Arwin pushed through the crowd in the direction of his cart. It hadn’t fully started to disperse yet, but he needed to get back before anyone else made it there. That had the added effect of drawing even more gazes to him as he squeezed through the sea of people. It wasn’t exactly the kind of attention he’d been hoping for, but attention was attention. Once he broke free of the crowds, he set a brisk pace through the streets and back through the market. Arwin resisted the urge to glance over his shoulder. Nearby conversation marked the edges of the crowd as it broke, but he was trying to set the appearance of a confident smith, not someone worried about if anyone would listen to him. He strode right back up to the cart, where Reya was sitting on the counter with her hood pulled low over her head and kicking her legs in boredom. She glanced up as Arwin approached, her face still concealed. “How’d it go?” Reya asked as Arwin drew up beside her and hopped onto the cart. “I’m not sure. I may have just yelled at a crowd of people that they should come shop at my cart.” “That’s a bold strategy. Get any fruit thrown at you?” “No. Why would someone throw fruit at me?” “Sounds like you didn’t do too badly then,” Reya said. “And I don’t know. Throwing fruit is such a waste. Who would toss perfectly good food when they could just eat it? They should throw shit instead.” “Are you advocating for people to pelt me with shit?” She blinked, the wind taken from her sails. Then she gave him a small shrug. “Fair enough. Before I go wasting time trying stuff on, how much are we talking for the lot?” The trio of adventurers exchanged a look and the woman turned back to Arwin. “Fair enough. Let me try it on.” Arwin lowered one of the chestpieces into her hands and she set about putting it on. In the meantime, the two men studied the other items around the cart. One of them nodded to a helmet and raised an eyebrow. “You want to try it on?” Arwin asked, taking a guess from his body language. “Go ahead. No pun intended.” The man smirked and picked the helm up, putting it on. He adjusted it and shook his head, testing the fit. After a second, he stopped to reach up and touch the small horn nubs jutting out of its front. They were small enough that they amounted to nothing but decoration. The nubs served no real purpose, but Arwin couldn’t bring himself to make a helmet without at least some form of horns on it. The man touched the horns and raised his eyebrow again. “Just a maker’s mark,” Arwin said. “All my helms have horns. It fits the theme, doesn’t it?” “He can’t answer,” the woman said as she finished tying her armor on. It was definitely a bit too big, but that didn’t stop her from twisting to check the fit anyway. “Tanner is mute.” “I reckon he can answer just fine. Just not with words,” Arwin corrected. “His body speaks just fine.” A grin split Tanner’s face and he took the helm off, setting it back on the counter. He raised a coin pouch and tapped it, giving Arwin another eyebrow raise. Reya nudged Arwin in the side before he could say the price for the helm. “Just the helm?” Arwin asked. “Or did you want to try on the whole set?” Tanner scratched the side of his neck. Then he shrugged and beckoned to the other pieces. Reya gave Arwin a smug look from beneath her hood as he took down another set and handed it over to the man. “And how about you?” Arwin asked the woman. “The fit isn’t proper, of course, but did you want to try on the greaves as well?” “Suppose I might as well,” the woman said as she set about removing the chestpiece. “And you were right. It didn’t fit. How long would a modification take? We’re hoping to head into the dungeon today. Every minute out here is a minute that someone else could be taking the best loot from us.” I don’t think anyone’s doing that. The best loot is going to be at the bottom of the dungeon, and nobody can get there. Then again, for smaller adventuring groups, even the top floors of a new dungeon could hold some pretty worthwhile rewards. “I can handle it in an hour if you bring it back to my smithy on the haunted street.” Arwin handed her the greaves and took the chestpiece back. “But you’d have to wait until I wrap up my sales here.” “How long are you going to stay here?” Arwin looked over her shoulder. A small crowd had gathered at the edge of the street and were steadily edging closer to get a better look at the gear hanging from his cart. He grinned to himself, but his grin fell away as he spotted someone familiar in the crowd. Taylor, the smith he’d been buying all his supplies from, stood amongst them. His eyes were narrowed in displeasure. After a second, the man turned and strode off. Arwin repressed a curse. Something tells me I’m going to need to get a new supplier. I don’t think he’s going to be selling me anything else anytime soon. “Not too long, I’d say,” Arwin replied. “I’m only planning to sell a few pieces here. The rest are going to be exclusive to the Infernal Armory.” Tanner plopped down a pouch of gold, then held up three fingers. Arwin lifted it, then smiled. Another 300 gold, just like that. “Pleasure doing business with you,” Arwin said as he handed the pouch to Reya for safekeeping. “Are the three of you a party? Or are you in a guild?” “We’re Oddjob,” the woman said, a proud grin crossing her lips. When Arwin didn’t react, she let out a sigh. “The name hasn’t quite gotten around yet. It will, though. We’re a guild.” “Just the three of you?” Reya asked. “Yes. There a problem with that?” “Nope. I was just curious,” Reya said. “What kind of odd jobs?” Arwin asked, still watching the spot where Taylor had been standing. “Just about anything related to dungeons. Nothing past Journeyman, though. Why?” So they’re just a normal adventuring group. Literally every normal group of adventurers does anything related to dungeons. They’re mercenaries for hire. But waste not, want not. “You know how to swing a pickaxe?” Arwin asked. The woman’s brow furrowed. “Not really. Why?” “I’m in the market for a metal supplier,” Arwin said. “No matter. You want me to hold onto your set of armor and resize it when you swing by?” “That would be great,” the woman said. She exchanged a look with the brothers. “And we can’t really help much with your sourcing issue… but I do happen to know a merchant we’ve worked together with before. They can be a bit difficult, but they’re good at their job.”