“You want to buy these?” Arwin asked, trying not to sound surprised. Sure, he’d fully planned to find someone to sell his work to, but Rodrick almost felt like he didn’t count. He’d met the other man already and they’d worked together, so it was different. The woman at the table – at least as far as Arwin was aware – was someone he’d never seen before. A small part of him was mildly surprised that someone he didn’t know would want to buy some of his work. “That’s what you’re aiming for, isn’t it?” she asked, holding a hand out. “I’m Tix.” “Arwin.” He shook her hand. “Pleasure, Arwin. Mind letting me take a closer look at those fancy little things?” Arwin shrugged and handed over the greaves. Tix ran her hands over the scales, checking the inside of the armor out. Her expression was unreadable, but Arwin could tell she was interested by how much time she spent staring at the way he’d woven the metal through the scales. He derived no little amount of pride from that. It had been a huge pain to weave metal and scale together, and even though it wasn’t a style he had any interest in making a lot more gear in once he found a better way or material to work with, it had still been a lot of work. “This is quite the piece,” Tix mused. “What was the name of the smith that made these? They’re not from around Milten.” “He’s a little reclusive,” Arwin said. There was no need to throw caution to the wind quite yet. “How’d you know he’s not from the area, though?” “In more ways than one.” Rodrick tapped his nose pointedly, then smirked. “We can’t all be perfect, though. I’ve dealt with some nasty bastards in my time, and I know Anna has seen worse. Some adventurers wouldn’t know what a brick of soap was unless it had a Title associated with it.” Arwin coughed into his fist as Rodrick chuckled and waved farewell, heading back up the stairs to his room. He left the inn, his pockets fifty gold heavier. It had been a long time since Arwin had done any proper shopping, so he wasn’t exactly certain how far fifty gold would actually take him, but based on what the smith had sold him for ten, he was pretty sure it would be enough. His first task wasn’t getting more materials, though. As tempting as that was, he had a basic level of hygiene that he still had to keep, and Arwin didn’t want to think about how long it had been since he’d last properly cleaned himself. He stopped by a tailor, buying three sets of clothing that he was pretty sure would fit him. He went with one of the cheapest options they had, opting to pay just two gold for the lot. None of it was worth writing home about, but it was better than what he was currently wearing. Arwin then set a course for the nearest bathhouse and lightened his purse by a gold, getting nine silver back in return. That in its entirety took about two hours – Arwin barely wanted to leave the bath once he got in, but he eventually dragged himself out and changed into his new clothes before setting off to handle the real task for the day. Priority number 1 is a hammer, one made entirely from metal rather than one with a wood handle. After that, I can split the gold between materials and things I can use to repair the smithy a bit. It really does need some patching up. A proper bed would be good too – I don’t want to sleep on a wolf pelt. It’ll be a great rug, though. Arwin meandered his way across town and to the market square. He wasn’t sure where to get most things in Milten, but he did know the location of a blacksmith. This time, though, he’d just be a normal customer. Taylor’s smithy had a few people milling about in it when Arwin arrived, which was just fine with him. He didn’t need the extra attention right now. His eyes scanned the room and quickly landed on a plain metal hammer made from rough black metal at the back of the store. Picking the hammer up, Arwin tested its weight in his hands. It felt good. Not too heavy, but definitely heavier than the previous one. It had a sturdiness to it that sat right in Arwin’s grip. Solid. This should suit my needs perfectly for the time being. Wonder why the previous smith didn’t have one of these. Arwin spent a little time looking around the rest of the store, taking in the weapons and armor hanging from the walls. The majority of Taylor’s goods looked to go for between ten and one hundred gold, depending on their detail and size. A few of them, such as an ornate breastplate, were a much heftier four or five hundred gold, but none of it caught Arwin’s eye. All the items were mundane. The more I think about it, the more I wonder how rare magical items actually are. When I was the Hero, everyone had them. But I suppose those were the best of the best – is it difficult to get magic weapons as a random adventurer? I’ll have to be really careful with how much I share if that’s the case. I don’t want some crazed guild to try to kidnap me or someone to beat down the doors of my smithy begging for an item. Arwin brought the hammer up to the front desk and laid it down before Taylor. “Ten gold,” Taylor said, glancing at the hammer whilst in mid conversation with another customer. Arwin didn’t say anything – he just quietly dug the gold out, set it on the counter, and departed the shop with his new hammer in tow. Perfect. Now, some things to make that damn place a little more livable. First off, it needs a door. A door and two beds. The other stuff can come later. Who sells beds, though? Arwin looked around the market for a few minutes, not particularly optimistic about his chances. A carpenter would definitely be somewhere in the general area, but there was no way Milten had enough demand for beds that there would be an entire store for – There was an entire store for it. Arwin squinted at the wooden building in a mixture of shock and disbelief. Faded paint across the arch above its door identified the building as Sleepy John’s. And, through the dirt-covered windows, Arwin could just barely make out rows upon rows of beds within the store. Barely able to believe it, Arwin stepped through the door and was instantly greeted by the strong smell of dust and cobwebs. A small bell rung, announcing his arrival, and a tired looking man at the back of the store raised his head from where it rested at a desk. “Oh. Welcome in,” the man said through a yawn. “Can I do something for you?” “I – uh, how much is a bed?” Arwin asked, looking around the surprisingly large store. It was hard to believe that it made anywhere near enough money to be this large. He was the only customer in sight. “Depends on the bed. You looking for something fancy?” “Something relatively easy to move and not too expensive. I need two of them, so being on the smaller would actually be nice as well. Have anything for ten gold or less?” “I’ve got an eight-gold option. Comes with a frame and a feather mattress. Just don’t ask me what the feathers come from. I don’t know, and you don’t want to know. It’s eight gold.” Arwin snorted. He looked around the store again, but there wasn’t a single part of him that wanted to spend more time in here than he had to. “Two of those, then. Do you have a cart I can use to carry them?” Bullshit. You can’t sell more than one bed a week. How do you possibly afford to not only have a store but also deliver stuff to your customers? He glanced around to see if there were bandits hiding in the rows of beds to ambush him, but that would have required someone else to have been in the store. Finally, Arwin shrugged. As suspicious as it was, he doubted Milten would allow a business to blatantly rob people in broad daylight. That was the job of Milten’s government, not the stores. “Sixteen gold, then?” “Plus four for delivery.” Ah. That makes a little more sense. Four gold for delivery seems really damn steep, but I don’t want to lug two beds across town. “Fine,” Arwin said, pulling twenty gold out and walking across the store to hand it to the employee. In turn, the man handed him a small wooden badge. Arwin felt the Mesh tingling within it as it rested in his hand.