After dropping my new clothes off in my room, I counted my money. I found I had five hundred thirty gold, thirteen silver, and fifteen copper coins. I then went downstairs and approached the receptionist, Bridget, and asked for food. She took a moment to understand my gestures, and once she did, she brought me to the dining room, where I waited patiently for breakfast or lunch … whatever time it was for food. Twenty minutes later, she returned with a plate of food. It smelled of freshly cooked ham and salted eggs.

She put a fork and knife in my hand and then told me to get some water to wash it down with. I was impressed by the level of service she showed me, and as I ate, I felt a need to thank her for the best I could. Bridget wasn’t a maid that worked for me, but she worked hard nonetheless. Once I finished eating, I walked over to her and got her attention.

“Oh, hello, Miss Rose. Was the food to your liking?” Bridget asked.

I patted my belly and gave her a thumbs-up.

“Well, that’s good to hear. Do you need something else?”

I nodded and motioned to write something down.

Interpreting that gesture, she grabbed the clipboard with the sign-in sheets. She took off one sheet and flipped it over, handing me the quill and ink before saying, “Please use as little ink as possible. It’s rather expensive right now.”

I nodded and wrote with as little ink as possible, “Blacksmith, armorer, or weapons dealer. Where?”

“Oh, you’re looking for a shop that sells weapons and armor, correct?”

I nodded.

“Walking out this door, turn left and just follow the street until you hear someone hammering on metal. He’s the best forger in the city. His name is Morgan Stormfallen. You can’t miss him or his temper,” Bridget said, and I nodded in thanks, leaving a few copper coins on the counter. She looked at them quizically, “What are these for?”

Writing one more thing on the paper before me, I wrote, “Thank you.” Then turned to leave.

“Oh, you are most welcome, Miss Rose!” Bridget called after me as I left the building. The streets were full of people now, and I had trouble seeing everything happening with that many people in the street. But I did see a few kids picking pockets of people passing too close to them. I’ll have to keep my senses open for them. I put my hands over my three bags of coins to ensure nobody stole them as I walked into the crowd and up the street.

As I walked, I blocked out the senses of the people talking around me and focused on looking for the sound of metal against metal. After a few minutes of walking, the streets slowly cleared, and I could hear it. Off in the distance, the sound of someone hammering metal with mighty swings. Walking faster toward the sound, I soon found the shop.

It was small, with a large forge in the back full of tools. I could see a short, bearded, and muscular man in the back, hammering away at the chunk of metal in his tongs. I walked into the shop, where various weapons and armor were displayed. On the right-hand side of the shop were racks of armor, on the left were shields and spears, while in the center were displays, on the right-hand side were swords of various shapes and sizes, and on the left were knives. At the back of the shop was a counter with a safe and a few other tools in drawers.

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Walking through the racks, I perused the weapons. None of them suited me, though, and they were too heavy. Then I went to the armor, none of which fit me. Which means I would need custom stuff explicitly made for me. As I continued to peruse the shop, the short man put his hunk of metal into a furnace and walked into the shop from the back door. He didn’t surprise me as he saw me and said, “Ay feckin’ coorse, there’s a customer noo. Whit dae ye want?!”

I turned to face him and waved before signing, “I need a-r-m-o-r.”

“Wa th’ feck ur ye hand-talkin’?! Whit ur ye deaf!”

I covered my ears at his loud volume, shook my head, and then pointed at my throat.

“Whit? Ye can’t talk?”

I nodded.

The man humphed and said, “Huir uv a weel ‘en. I’m Morgan Stormfallen. Whit ur ye lookin’ fur?”

I pointed to the armor and weapons next to me.

“Armur an’ weapons. Fur ye? Aw Ah got is tay big an’ heavy fur ye. Wa dae ye need it?”

“Adventure,” I signed, knowing he wouldn’t understand.

“Travel ur adventure? Is ‘at whit ye signed?”

Surprised that he understood me, I nodded happily.

A guffaw escaped Morgan’s lips as he laughed at me. He laughed right at my face. “HAHAHA!! Ye tryin’ tay be an adventurer! Hahaha! Gang haem an’ suckle ye mother’s teats some mair, lassie! Hahaha!!” Then he turned to leave.

I channeled my air mana to pick up a small knife from a rack and hurled it at his head. The blade whizzed past his nose and embedded itself in the wooden wall beside him. He froze and slowly turned to face me. I glowered at him and used my mana to pick up another knife, menacingly making it hover over my right shoulder.

Morgan crossed his burly arms and said, “Sae, ye a mage. An’ ye want a weapon an’ sit ay armur?”

I nod, still levitating the knife.

Morgan ran his fingers through his long beard and thought for a moment. “Huir uv a weel ‘en. Ah migh’ ‘av somethin’ fur ye,” he said, walking out the door he came in. I watched as he grabbed a small set of armor from the back and something that looked black and squishy to my senses. The squishy thing was the size of his hand and shaped like a sphere. He returned with the orb and armor a moment later, setting it on the counter with a soft thunk.

I put the knife down and walked up to it, giving Morgan a questioning look.

He gestured to it, “Thes haur is a lecht armor. It’ll cover ye torso, but nah much else. An’ tha’s livin’ met’l. Send mana through it, an’ it’ll f’rm whatever weapon ye want. An’ Ah bet yoo’ll make th’ best use out av it.”

I poked the slime. It felt soft and malleable. I looked at Morgan questioningly again and rubbed my fingers together.

Morgan smiled, “Tha’ll be three-hundred gauld.”

He seemed confident that I didn’t have that much money. But I pulled out one of my bags of coins with two hundred and fifty gold and put it on the counter. Then, I pulled out my second bag of gold coins and counted out fifty more.

Looking dismayed, Morgan looked at the pile of gold and sighed. “Aw reit. Send mana through it, an’ it’s yoors.”

I smiled and placed my hand on the squishy orb. I concentrated and sent my mana flowing into it. The orb exploded into a mass of goop, wrapped around my hand, and turned into a large formless blob. I jumped back in surprise as it quickly transformed, and I would have dropped it if it hadn’t wrapped around my hand.

Morgon laughed at my surprise and said, “Ye won’t last a week.”

I took a few deep breaths and concentrated on the shapeless mass of darkness. I imagined the living metal shrinking and changing into a short sword. I immediately felt the metal shrink and transform into my imagined short sword.

Once I was finished, I glowered at Morgan, who shrugged, “Whit? It’s noo mah faut if ye kill yerself wi’ th’ weapons an’ armur ah provide ye.”

I shook my head, grabbed my light armor with exasperation, and left the shop, upsettingly satisfied with my purchases.

***