„Ahh, forget 'bout that, lad." Roàn said, forking out some coins, tossing them over casually.
"That's a advance, work twice as hard tomorrow, today I explain most things."
Mikael caught the coins, two silver to be exact, and his eyes remained on the shimmering exterior for a moment, the next sliding them into his moneybag, making sure the hole is then closed up securely again.
"Thank you very much, Boss. I won't disappoint you."
Roàn just winked it away. "Let's see 'bout that. Come now, I show ya the smithy. I have one inside," he opened a door, showing a dark, open and wide room with a bigger furnace inside, and some smaller ones coated in a thick layer of a mixture looking like clay, but more solid.
A anvil with many scratches and a workbench in a corner. A wooden box contained many tools, but only the handles stuck out.
"Here I make simple, smaller orders. These small furnaces are off most the time tho since I got my hand on Fire Salt. Useful stuff, if not so damn expensive."
Mikael wondered what Fire Salt was, but new better than to ask his clearly tired Boss questions that surely will answer themselves in the near future.
"Then, my main focus is outside."
He opened another, more sturdy looking door leading to the outside. The light flooded inside, and the wide stone floored terrace seemed even more grand from this perspective.
"Over there to the left is my hell, so I call it. Fire Salt in there make wood burn hot enough to soften, even melt steel, without needing to isolate it as much. So much more easy to use than a common forge. Your task is mostly hitting the parts I advice ya to, or taking out stuff and this and that.
Barrel with water, tray with oil, normal stuff, mostly familiar for ya, no?"
"Yes, Father had similar setup, except that fire pit. And clearly not so many tools." He looked at a wall full with hammers of different sizes and materials, tongs and files. The sheer amount made him wonder what use all these tool could have, as he only ever used two or three different hammers.
"Yeah, my pride as a craftsman. Every one made myself." Roàn said, his hand stroking proudly his black beard.
"Sure, maybe excessive, but I had and will have a use for each one."
"Is there a reason that the smithy is so visible from the street?" Mikael wondered. Most craftsman liked to do work away the prying eye, as passerby could distract them, or hinder them otherwise.
"Not as hot like inside, when you work most the time you appreciate the fresh air. Also I improve my sales like that. My costumers see how I work, what I'm doing. Many come over to check how far I got, sure it can be annoying, but mostly a bit of chatting keeps the spirit up."
He walked over to the wall with the tools, took off a sharp looking knife and handed it, handle first, Mikael.
He weighted it in his hand, impressed by the weight it had and how smooth the wood felt. He did not asked, but his look showed that he waited for the order from his Boss.
"Today only something ya can do. Go to that rack, I'll span the hide, and your task is to remove all the fat and hair remaining, so it can dry properly. If ya are confident, ya may use fire, but don't dare to damage my wares."
"I will do my best." Mikael assured, wanting to work so he could prove his worth.
When Roàn prepared the hide, Mikael stole glances at the road, uneasy about the occasional looking people, but he quickly noticed many didn't stayed to observe, just casually glancing.
"All yours lad. I'll heat up some metal, so call me if ya need something."
He wandered over, taking a long piece and pushing it into the pit, pushing it around till it had a good position.
Mikael also began working, and when he started, the hours passed away faster than he noticed.
He used fire to carefully burn away the thick hair on one side, careful not to burn the skin, and used the knife to scrap down all the fat, catching it in a tray, so they could make candles or soap from it.
The smell was quite okay, not like pig or cow fat. So he worked for hours, finished when the sun stood up high, covered a bit by passing, white clouds.
"Hoho, looks good. Smells like burnt hair, but still." A heavy hand landed on Mikaels shoulder, waking him up from his work.
"That saved me some hours, thank you." He took that rag, putting it a fair distance away from the hell pit to dry.
"Let's go inside, I'm quite thirsty myself."
Mikael gladly accepted, and then after that worked the rest on another, bit bigger piece of hide.
"Let's call it a day." Roàn said, finishing another fold on his metal piece and quenching it in the barrel of water, afterwards putting it to cool in a sand box.
Mikael also extinguished the torch, finishing burning away the finest pieces of hair on the skin side.
"Okay Boss."
"Your pay is on the table, just take it after going, I still have something to do here."
The sun was already pretty deep, and only few hours of daylight was left.
Mikael was tired, only non-verbally responding. When he got inside the house, he saw 2 big coppers and some small ones on the table, and he gladly pocketed it, feeling he rightfully earned that.
Leaving the house, he straightly went towards the Guild building, wanting to try and meet the Healer Roàn spoke of.
When he arrived at the place before the Guild, he could make out a building with a red cross on it, a snake winding around it.
'Should be it.' he thought walking through the door. A bell signified his arrival, and a young voice welcomed him.
"Well, who came to that late hour? How can I be of service?" A red curly haired woman in her twenties said, just stocking her shelves with vials containing differently colored fluids.
"Was just about to close, you're lucky."
"Are you the healer? I was told you could fix my broken arm." he lifted his damaged arm a bit, showing it off so she better saw it.
"Don't know. When should it be done?"
"The earlier the better. I help over by the forge, and can support Boss better tomorrow then."
The woman came around her counter, the weak lights of the candles illuminating her hair, making it more red than it already was.
"Then you help out old Roàn, that adorable bear. Nice for him. Since his normal assistant got shot by a stray arrow, he lays in a fever. So your help is still needed for some time."
She gently held his arm, pocking some parts, and when Mikael let out a bit of air after she squeezed a bit on his wrist, she came to a conclusion.
"Looks like it was straightened after being broken, makes this easier. And some healing effect resides in your body, weak but still present. It aided your recovery, but isn't enough to repair it fully."
"All that from just a couple of touches?" he was baffled.
"No, not just that." she smiled sweetly, her big eyes looking at him like a older sister at a younger brother.
"But that is my working secret. Well, an open secret, but one nonetheless. Come, I heal you in my Chore room. Don't worry, it's only called that because I need to concentrate more for these tasks."
She put a sign on her counter, and took the lead.
'She seems nice.' he had the impression, as he only heard half of her words. He wandered after her, catching himself looking at her butt every so often in that short time frame.
When he noticed, he averted his eyes, but still got a bit red.
'What's going on lately with me.' He scolded himself.
He never really did that before, but lately it happened subconsciously.
'Whatever, doesn't hurt anyone. Mustn't look so obviously tho, seems not nice to stare like that.'
"Take a seat." She motioned him to walk into a room, in which she lighted a big oil lamp that could illuminate the whole place.
Only two chairs and a stretcher was inside, together with a table on which a tablet with clean, fine tool laid.
When she closed the door, the sound that were still present were swallowed, making it eerie silent.
"Obvious what that room is for. So," she put the tablet on the stretcher, putting the table between the chairs, "put your arm on here."
He did as instructed, and she held his hand with one hand and the other enclosed his arm.
The air surrounding her changed, at least Mikael had the impression it did.
A tickling feeling filled his arm, beginning from his elbow downwards to his hand, through his index finger.
She didn't utter a word, aside from something that slightly frightened him.
"That may hurt a bit, but please don't scream, else I might mess up. Should I have said that earlier? Well..."
He did not think that last part was for him, but he thought not about that after a moment. The tickling soon grew to a slight burning, and soon it felt like he had molten fire in his veins, and hot steel as bones.
"Shhhhhhh, Mother Earth, gnnnnn..." he tried to keep calm, relieving his pain by making strange noises, as not to distract her work.
'Is that really helping me?' he wondered, as the pain did not seem to subside.
"By the way, you can call me Jenny."
He could right now not care how she was called, nor what she did. All he wanted was for the pain to stop.
He tried to hold on, but soon the first loud groans escaped him. To his relieve, she also let go of his arm, and the energy that made him feel like a metal in Roàn hell pit left through his finger, as if sucked out.
It resembled a delusion, never to have been there, but a visible hand print of her was left on his arm.
Shocked by that experience, he asked:" What was that? It hurt like hell!"
"Roàn's hell pit you imagined, I bet." she joked. "Sorry, I'm not very proficient in healing magic, so that little treatment was all I could do."
"Healing magic? Something that hurts so much was supposed to help me?" he said wide eyed.
"Well, is your arm better or not." she replied a bit sour. "I know there are better healers, but i'm cheap, that's why you are here, no?"
'Right, my arm!' he totally forgot. His eyes grew even wider when he could hold up his left up to his eyes, nothing ever suggesting it was broken just days ago.
"Amazing!"