"Minus the registration, room, board, clothes, the knife and compass you lost, the new knife and compass, and a map of the city, your reward for the basilisk hunt comes out to two hundred and seventy-five dinal." The receptionist counted out the coins as she handed over the allotted items.

Clay pulled the shirt on over his head and gathered up his belongings.

"I'll show you to your room so you can get yourself better situated."

He was led up the stairs to his room, and the heat from the penetrating eyes of his dining hall audience bore into his back the whole way.

"My name's Mindy," she said with a smile.

"Thanks, Mindy."

Clay closed the door.

He changed his pants and shoes. The tattered remnants had barely survived the journey back to Jaskar.

Tucking the papers and money into his shirt pocket, Clay lay down on the bed. He wasn't tired, despite the tumultuous encounter he had just been through. But, he wanted to take some time to relax.

As he thought back on the swarming lizards, Clay realized that if he had been human he would have died at the beginning. He'd been careless.

Still, he wasn't human.

Next time he would be prepared. The knife he'd brought wasn't meant for combat. The same was true of the replacement knife he'd been given. It was meant for harvesting from his kills. He needed to purchase a sword.

It struck the golem as odd how comfortable with the violence he was. He recalled the first basilisk he had killed. It had felt so natural.

With a newfound sense of energy, Clay stood up and made his way to the door. As he approached the door he heard the hurried shuffling of footsteps retreating down the hall. Opening the door, he scanned the hallway. Whoever had been out there had disappeared into one of the rooms.

Checking to see that he had all of his belongings, Clay stepped out of the room and descended the stairs to the front desk.

"Mindy, I was wondering if there was a place nearby where I could buy a sword," Clay inquired of the young woman.

"Oh, yes. Quite a number of them. I can show you on your map." She smiled.

Clay pulled out the map of Jaskar City and laid it out on the desk.

"So, we're here. And, the closest blacksmith is here. Though, if you had more money you could go straight to the blacksmithing guild to commission a weapon," she said, helpfully.

The notion sounded intriguing. But, for now, Clay was content to find a standard sword. "Thanks, Mindy. I'll keep it in mind."

Clay folded up the map and tucked it into his shirt pocket. With a nod to the receptionist, he left the hunter's guild. His eyes set towards the blacksmith. It didn't take him long to find his destination.

Above the building's door, a sign swung from a pair of chains, reading 'Blacksmith.'

Entering the building, Clay saw the flash of steel immediately. Every wall was lined with weapons and armor. Most of the items had the telltale silvery shine of steel. But, several pieces were formed of black metal. Some even looked to be made of gold.

The golem walked amongst the equipment, marveling at the variety. His eyes were drawn to the swords. The weapons had varying lengths. Some the length of his arm, others almost as long as he was tall.

A middle-aged man, wearing an apron stood behind a counter. "Good day, friend. How may I be of service?"

Clay looked at the man. A human, with a solid build. His neck stood out with coiled muscles merging down into his barrel chest. The man wore a welcoming smile.

"Hello," Clay responded. "I was hoping to purchase a sword."

The man's smile widened, "You've come to the right place. What's your price range?"

Clay thought about the money he'd earned from the basilisk hunt. "I've got two hundred and seventy-five dinal."

The man's smile faltered slightly. But, he quickly recovered. "This way, sir."

The man moved out from behind his counter. And, led the golem to a bin with sword handles jutting out.

"Try this one on for size." The man pulled out a sword that ran the length from Clay's waist to the top of his head.

Taking the sword in his hand, Clay felt comforted by the presence of steel at his fingertips.

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"That's if you want to spend all your money in one go." The blacksmith said, taking the weapon back. "Unless you already have some defensive equipment, I'd recommend one of the cheaper swords and some armor. Perhaps, you'd also like a shield?"

The man pulled out another sword, this one was notably of lower quality. Whereas the previous sword had been of steel, this sword was forged of iron. The ruddy texture of the blade subdued the comfort the golem had taken in holding the steel sword.

"Only one hundred dinal for this one. And, you can pick up some mail armor to boot."

While he did like the idea of having a superior sword, Clay couldn't help but recall what had happened to his shirt when he was swarmed by the basilisks. He didn't want to lose his paperwork again and have to rely on a guard escort to get back into the city.

"Do you have anything for the chest?" He asked.

"Right this way."

They came to a stack of chain mail. The gear was layered, one on top of the other. To the side, he saw a mannequin fitted with plate mail armor. The flattened slabs of steel were woven together to create an impenetrable facade.

"Try this one on for size." The blacksmith picked up a chain mail piece, the circular rivets bore the ruddy glint of iron.

Fitting his head under the hem of the chainmail shirt, the golem worked his way through the clinking metal until he could once again see the man beside him. His arms pushed through the sleeves, towards their release.

"Good, good. What do you say, customer?"

Clay thought about it. He did feel much more secure with the armor in addition to the sword. "I like it."

"Good deal," the blacksmith said with enthusiasm.

"All that's left now is a shield." The man began to move on to the next agenda.

"Wait," Clay said, his eyes drawn to something.

The blacksmith followed his gaze until he saw it. "Ah. Sir, would you like to see our gauntlets?"

"Yes." The golem responded, not taking his eyes off of what he saw.

As they moved closer he saw the gleam of steel. His eyes appreciated the shine.

"With seventy-five dinal left over, I'm afraid you will only be able to afford one of our iron gauntlets" The man observed Clay's longing gaze towards the glittering steel.

Dawn back to reality, and Clay nodded.

The blacksmith picked up a left-handed gauntlet and passed it to Clay. While the golem fitted the glove to his hand, he handed the sword over to the blacksmith.

"Looks like a perfect fit." The man said as he walked over to his counter. "Alright, good sir. Your fee comes out to two hundred and fifty dinal."

Walking over to the man, Clay struggled to reach under his chainmail vest. Pulling out the money, he counted out the currency.

His equipment purchased, Clay nodded to the blacksmith and headed for the door.

"Thank you for your patronage. And, please do come again." The cheerful blacksmith called as his customer left.

In the streets of Jaskar, Clay palmed the hilt of the sword at his waist. The sword had come with a scabbard, and the sword hung loosely from his hip.

He only had twenty-five dinal left after his purchases. He'd need to go on another hunting mission. But, the golem felt confident after his first successful hunt. And, now he had a real sword. Not just a flimsy knife. He looked forward to his next mission.

Back at the hunter's guild things had quieted down. Mindy had been replaced by a dwarf female, who merely nodded in his direction as he entered. The dining hall had been cleared out for the most part. A few stragglers remained, quietly eating their meals and paying no attention to the newcomer.

Clay sat down at a table near the wall of posters. As he stared at the images on the wall, the barmaid came up to him with a mug of something foul-smelling.

"On the house," the woman said with a wink. "I'll be back with something for you to eat."

Clay watched the woman walk away. Taking the mug in his hand, the golem sniffed the container. It was beer. He wasn't sure how he knew it was beer. But, he'd grown accustomed to knowing things that he hadn't had experience with.

He sipped the frothy concoction and continued to stare at the wall. Having completed the E-rank basilisk mission, Clay figured he should next choose a D-rank mission. The rewards listed for those missions ranged between one hundred seventy-five and two hundred and fifty dinal.

Clay figured that if he wanted to upgrade his equipment to steel quality, he'd need to do a few of the missions. Other than upgrading his equipment, the golem wasn't sure what else he needed money for. He was set up with the hunter's guild for the next week, and he didn't have anywhere that he needed to be.

Pondering what he should do next he sipped his beer in silence.

What about Roland?

The thought struck him. Roland was in a different world. He recalled how Marcel had told him about the firmament that divided the worlds. How was he supposed to get back up to Purgamous?

Clay didn't have any of the answers, and he had no idea who did. Caught in his thoughts he didn't notice the barmaid come up behind him.

"Courtesy of the guild." The woman said as she laid down a large plate with a hunk of meat on the bone. Besides the meat, an assortment of baked tubers lay across the plate.

"Thank you." While Clay wasn't particularly hungry, he'd grown to appreciate the taste of the food he'd been served since he'd come to Jaskar.

As the woman turned to return to her business, Clay picked up the hunk of meat by the bone. It was a new experience for the golem, eating a shank of grilled meat while sipping a refreshing beer. He didn't find the meal to be necessary, hunger didn't seem to affect him. But, he could sense the taste of the meal and he did appreciate it.

Looking back at the wall he saw a flier that sparked his interest. Pygmy trolls. Something about the name struck him as amusing. The image on the poster showed a creature with long tusks jutting out from under its curved nose. Shaggy hair swept down across its hunched-over shoulders. Exotic face paint colored the troll's face. This mission was a C-class assignment, and Clay was unsure whether or not he should pursue it next.

Finishing his meal, the golem stood up and made his way to the stairs. Whatever quest he chose next could wait. He felt tired. The sensation was unfamiliar to the golem.

Climbing the stairs, Clay found himself holding tight to the railing. He thought about the beer that he had drunk. Can stone get drunk? He wondered. It seemed peculiar, but the number of things the golem didn't understand were stacking up.

Entering his room, he closed the door. He set the sword on the small table and sat down in the chair. With some effort, he slipped the gauntlet from his left hand and laid it next to the sword. After the gauntlet, he stripped the chainmail vest from his body. The iron had an orange luster that soured Clay's mood.

He wanted steel. The shine of all the steel equipment in the blacksmith's store had excited him. But, he'd settled for the cheaper gear. Despite the number of creatures he'd slain off the North road, the reward hadn't been that much. He had chosen one of the easiest missions after all.

Looking over the spoils of his labors, he figured he'd done pretty well for a first-timer. He stood up from his chair and lay down on the bed. Shutting his eyes he relaxed into the soft blankets that cushioned his stone physique.