The next four days passed by in a flash, not much happening aside from the preparations Kyran was making for his departure. After he had finished his conversation with Raynee, he had stopped by Neil’s house to say hello to his parents, who were much more comfortable with the idea of the two of them braving the wilderness. In addition, Kyran spent the next day making his rounds and letting those closer to him around the town know he was leaving.
After that, he’d intended to spend a lot of his time with his family, but both Raynee and his father seemed to be very busy at the shop. That couldn’t be helped, though. Smithies were notoriously busy every year after The Awakening, so getting a head start on forging armor and weapons for would-be adventurers and soldiers was probably a good idea.
With preparations completed and farewells given, the morning of their departure had come. They were yet again waiting at the train platform – this time having gone with their families. It was a little bit later in the morning than the first time they had left, and so the first train full of passengers had long since departed. With the early risers gone, the station was busy, but not overly crowded. The next train was still a few minutes from arriving, so the group had time to say their final goodbyes. Neil’s mother was the first to speak up.
“It’s just about time, kiddos.”
Kyan and Neil looked at each other and each raised an eyebrow. Kiddos?
She continued, “We’re not going to bore you with pleasantries or long goodbyes. We’ve had nearly a week for that, after all. You boys will soon be giving it your all, facing the unknown dangers of adventuring.”
Neil’s father picked up where she left off. “To that end, us parents have prepared some equipment for both of you.”
Ah, I guess that explains the chest Dad’s been lugging around.
His dad set the chest he was carrying down and opened the latches, then handed Neil’s parents a few items.
“We didn’t have time to make a full set,” Neil’s mother spoke while handing the pair some leather boots and gloves, “but we figured this much would be good for the time being. When you boys stop by on your way back through, we can get you outfitted with an armor set or anything else you’ll need.”
Much like how Kyran’s family were blacksmiths, Neil’s parents were also craftsmen in the form of leatherworkers, and skilled ones at that. A skill that Neil didn’t share whatsoever with them. His friend was so different from his parents in some ways that Kyran would’ve sworn Neil was adopted had his father not personally helped deliver him as a baby. Though Neil as an infant was probably still bigger than his both of his parents. Very fishy.
The gloves were of fine quality, durable, but not exactly gauntlets. They were designed more for casual wear and warmth than for any sort of protection. They were a simple glossy black with long cuffs that extended just past the wrists. The knee-high boots were of similar make, though Kyran could tell they were built to last in the toughest of conditions. Unlike the gloves, these would offer decent protection in a fight. They were dyed the same black, with two straps and buckles positioned at the ankle and shin to adjust the fit.
All in all, it was a good gift. While leather was usually regarded as a pretty basic material, leather products weren’t exactly cheap. Commissioning an experienced leatherworker for custom fit apparel was more expensive still.
“Thank you Mr. and Mrs. Prior, these are wonderful,” Kyran thanked them.
“Thanks Mom and Dad,” Neil added.
His mother answered back. “You’re both very welcome. But please, Kyran dear, call me Jeane. You’re like a second son to us, you don’t have to be so formal.”
That got a chuckle out of Kyran’s dad. “I wish I had that problem with him. Sometimes it feels like I can’t get any respect from that boy. I don’t know how you two do it.”
“You just have to be a better craftsman,” Neil’s father responded.
“Ha! I guess that’s the cue to reveal my gifts, then.”
He reached into the chest and pulled out some weapons. To Neil, he handed over a mace and a sword. The mace was flanged, with a menacing pear-shaped head with eight steel ribs. It shone a polished silver, the shaft a spiral screw pattern, with a bump in the steel separating the leather-wrapped handle. The mace was a blunt force weapon that could deal equally well with both armored and unarmored opponents, so it was a practical main weapon for someone like Neil, who would play the role of the party’s protector.
“I didn’t have the time this week, but when you come back through I can get you outfitted with a proper shield to go with the mace. In the meantime, you can probably buy a training shield to use for pretty cheap. Go ahead and check the sword too. You probably won’t be using it often, but anyone not carrying a simple short sword as a backup is asking to be a dead man.”
Neil drew the sword from its scabbard. It was a golden brown, about 2 feet and 10 inches in length, with a 28 inch blade. It was a simple double-edged arming sword with a horizontal guard just above the grip. Neil gave it a few test swings and nodded, finding the balance to his liking.
“Now hold on a second,” his mother butted in, “isn’t that bronze? If it’s for his survival, won’t that just be a liability? Even an iron sword will be more durable.”
“Normally that would be the case,” Kyran’s father responded, “but this bronze has a high tin content. Around 15 percent, which makes it harder than even wrought iron, and it can maintain its edge fairly well.”
This time Kyran spoke up. “If it’s high-tin bronze, wouldn’t that make it too brittle? It won’t bend or deform as easily, but it’s more at risk of suffering a break right?”
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His dad smiled at him. “Good observation, son. However, this is a binary sword. I’ve used high-tin bronze for the outer edges, and low-tin for a softer core. That way there shouldn’t be any problem with how brittle it is.”
Lamination, huh. He’s not a [Master Blacksmith] just for show, after all.
“And before you ask,” he continued, “steel is susceptible to rusting just like iron is. They react to water and air, and need diligent maintenance to keep them in good condition. Bronze, however, is much more resistant to corrosion. At worst it will develop a patina that can always be removed with a polish. For a sword that should only be used and maintained sparingly, I felt bronze would be the perfect choice.”
“They’re both wonderful,” Neil expressed his gratitude. “Thank you, Mr. Hall.”
His father smiled and nodded, and finally turned to Kyran. He handed him two weapons as well, a sword and a knife.
“The sword is just temporary. Raynee has something planned for you that should be ready by the time you visit again.”
Kyran nodded and inspected the weapons. The sword was a simple iron short sword, obviously just grabbed from one of the store’s displays. It wasn’t particularly special, but as a placeholder, it wasn’t meant to be.
The knife, on the other hand, was different. It was short, about 7.5 inches in length from end to end. It was inlaid between two pieces of dark oak, forming a wooden handle with grooves for his fingers and a steel ring at the end. He removed it from its sheath – a matching dark wood lined on the inside with linen, and a belt strap attached – and examined the blade. It was roughly 3.5 inches long, and was curved with a shape like the crescent moon. The material was carbon steel, but was dyed black at some point in the forging process. The edges, however, still had the iconic silver glow of steel. Kyran noted the blade had a sharpened edge on both sides, which was unusual for a curved blade. That meant it was versatile. The blade was smooth, with no fancy jagged designs or ribbed edges. The only embellishment was a small ‘KH’ engraved near the handle. It was simple and elegant in its design, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t deadly.
As Kyran was marveling at the design and construction, his dad spoke up.
“I call it the Tiger’s Claw. It’s designed to mimic the teeth and claws of wild animals and monsters, able to slash, hook, and rip. Obviously, it’s not as effective with stabbing but I have a feeling the first monster you’d have stabbed would run off with your knife still lodged in it,” he chuckled. “Better not to lose my gift so easily.”
“I’ll make sure to take good care of it, then.”
“I’m sure you will.”
For now, Kyran stored the sword in his inventory and looped the knife to his belt. Neil attached his own sword and would have done the same with his mace, until he realized that just slipping it under his belt didn’t exactly play nice with sitting on a train seat. So, the mace and leather gifts also ended up in Kyran’s dimensional space.
After receiving their send-off gifts, the pair said their final goodbyes as they waited for the train to arrive to the station. It didn’t take long, and after about four more minutes, the two of them stepped into the train car. They stepped over to a compartment door and opened it, for once not being the first ones inside. A pair of what looked to be high-level adventurers were already sitting and talking to each other.
The woman had medium length black hair, styled into a ponytail. Her face was calm but curious, and she wore a deep, dark green cloak that covered most of her other apparel. Kyran could tell she was a rogue or stealth user of some sort, as if he took his focus off of her for even a second, she’d seem to become hazy to his senses.
The man with her was much more impressive visually, donning a very detailed, ornate armor that practically glowed silver and gold light. The cuirass was patterned, depicting a golden sun in the center, spreading its rays towards the sides and shoulders, where waves of fiery silver ceded to its influence. The armor was a canvas, and the design was a story. A very, very, expensive story. He had a handsome face, personable and friendly, with short, golden-blonde hair and irises to match.
“Mind if we sit with you two?” Neil asked.
“Of course!” the man gave a bright smile. “Name’s Jack Gatling, and this is Eliza Warren,” he said, pointing his thumb towards the woman.
Neil reached out and shook the man’s hand. “Neil Prior, and the guy trying to figure out the techniques used to make your armor there is Kyran Hall.”
“You’re underestimating me, friend. It’s a simple embossing applied to the armor itself, followed by gilding and silvering the rest for color.”
Neil waved him off. “Yeah, yeah. I’ve heard enough blacksmith jargon for the day. I’m getting sick of it.”
Jack and Eliza chuckled at the two of them before Jack spoke up again. “So, are you two heading for the city as well?” he questioned.
“Yes, sir,” Neil answered as the two of them sat down, “we both just awakened, so we’re going to do our apprenticeships.”
“Greenies?” Eliza let out a small, excited squeal and clapped her hands together. “You two are so cuuuute!”
Kyan and Neil looked at each other again. Cute?
“What is going on today…?” Kyran muttered under his breath.
“Don’t mind her. She has a newbie fetish,” Jack assured them.
“I do not!” she retorted.
Jack turned his head to the side and gave her an accusing look. After a few seconds, Eliza let out a soft “hmph” and turned to the window. A little smug with his victory, Jack turned back to the pair and asked a follow-up question.
“That’s great! What do you guys have in mind for your apprenticeship?”
Kyran responded this time, “We’re planning to be adventurers.” Jack wasn’t surprised.
“Ah, I figured. I have an eye for this sort of thing. Although, I should point out that while your friend has a sword, you’re only carrying a knife. I don’t suppose you expect to protect yourself with just that?”
Kyran answered by holding out his palm and materializing the temporary sword his father had lent him.
“I see. An {Explorer}, then.”
“Yeah. Something like that,” Kyran smirked. He realized he’d been doing that a lot these past few days. Granted, it was warranted – Unique system and all.
Jack paused and gave the two a quick lookdown before pondering to himself. He quickly made up his mind, though, and smiled.
“I like you guys. I’ve got a hunch the two of you have a lot of potential. I’ll give you a bit of advice,” he started. “In the city, there’s a pretty exclusive trainer by the name of Marcus Tillman. He’s a retired adventurer, and he doesn’t look like much, but trust me; the man knows what he’s doing. He has a reputation among elite adventurers for being the best trainer on the continent, although it’s kept mostly on the down low. You’ll have to visit his place today and he’ll conduct a short interview. He’ll only accept those he deems to have the potential to be exceptional talents, but I have faith in my eye for people. You two should get in just fine.”
“Wow, that’s uh… thank you. I don’t know what we can do to repay you for this information,” Neil responded, a little dumbfounded.
“Oh no, it’s totally fine,” Jack waved him off. He thought about it for a second before adding, “Actually, tell you what. We’re heading back from a quick scouting mission the two of us took over in Ellis, and we’re regrouping with our team in Muller. We’ll be spending about two weeks there, so the first chance you can get away from that crazy bastard of a trainer, come join us for some drinks. You’ll probably get a little freedom a week in or so.”
Well that doesn’t sound ominous at all. Oh well, I’ll take a little overbearance in exchange for an excellent training opportunity. However strict this Marcus guy is, I’m sure we can handle it.
After setting a flag using his thoughts, Kyran thanked Jack for the information and switched the topic. If the two in front of him were high level adventurers, he wanted to hear some of their stories. They had about three and a half hours of train ride to kill, after all.