Dean stood in front of that smithy, sighing slightly.
'It isn't like The Forger.' That was the only thing he could think of when looking at the facade of that place.
He was trying not to be arrogant there. Actually, Dean's father and mother taught him to appreciate humbleness and to be humble every second of his life. He always tried to follow their tips because always when he did so, everything would go well.
Nonetheless, that refuge was being a test for him. He couldn't accept that something so poor existed. In his world, every refuge out there would have the same wealth as Refuge Sarah, Will, and Owen.
'I wonder why no Ascendant appeared here and helped to make this place get better... Isn't that their duty? Owen, Sarah, and Will struggled to raise society again. So it's natural that the other Ascendants mobilize themselves to do the same! But... well, thinking about it, some Ascendants deserted on my refuge. Maybe there are people like this out there.'
Dean noticed that he was thinking too deeply on that matter and decided to focus again. Once he got to know someone on that refuge, he would surely ask a lot of questions, but it wasn't good to keep asking himself questions that he couldn't answer alone. It was a waste of time.
Feeling somewhat awkward, but confident that things would work out, Dean entered that smithy.
Differently from The Forge, that place didn't have doors. Dean wondered if someone robbed the items there, but he wasn't even sure if robbery was something that often happened in that place.
Once inside there, Dean felt the familiar sensation of a hot and steamy environment. The yellowish light of the furnace's fire replaced any kind of alternative illumination. The sound of metal hitting metal could be heard echoing.
In a corner of that smithy, a big anvil was placed, which probably costed more than that entire building. Some leather straps, pieces of metal, unfinished works, sheets, and all sorts of materials were hanging on supports or spread on the ground.
Dean's dream was to get out of the walls after he Ascended and explore the world, but he had just one place that he could call home, and it was the smithy. After all, even though his dream was totally different from it, that was his main office for a long time. Dean couldn't find himself doing anything else other than smithy.
"Finally in a place where I find familiar. That's good, hehe." He murmured.
In front of the anvil, holding a black hammer and looking critically toward a tool that seemed like a pickaxe, was a corpulent and short man. His head was hairless, some remnants were still on the sides, but that was all. He wasn't a man with a good physique, nonetheless. Although his arms were pretty strong, he had a fat belly.
'Well, that's a standard for a lot of blacksmiths I saw before.' Dean shrugged.
He approached the man, who didn't seem to notice his arrival, or so Dean thought.
"What are you doing here?" He bruskly asked, without even glancing at the boy. His eyes never let go of the pickaxe.
"I would like to forge a sword!"
The man stopped to breathe for a second, his thick eyebrow raised.
"You mean that you want ME to forge it, right? If you did like to have something forged by myself just for you, then the price is higher."
"No, I meant it. I myself will forge it if you let me." Dean pointed to himself, smiling.
The smithy finally turned to him. His serious face didn't intimidate Dean. He was used to the frowning way that most blacksmiths had.
First of all, the man analyzed his arms, then his face, lastly he pondered in his words.
"Where did you learn to forge?"
"I learned in the place I was born. A refuge in the northern region of Saphyr." The boy didn't say where he came from in detail. If everyone had the same disgust of the Three Greatest as his group had, then it would be troublesome for him.
"I see..." He let go of the black hammer, turning completely his body to Dean while stroking his chin.
"That's the first time I see a blacksmith other than my father, who was my master before he died. It's quite interesting. But I won't do anything for free, and you don't look like you have any money or items to exchange except your short sword."
Dean denied with his head.
"No. I don't intend to pay you with money or barter. Instead, if you let me use your anvil, I will get my own resources. Also, I will show you some northern techniques that I learned. What about it?"
The smithy again raised one of his brows in surprise.
"So, you know how to bargain, brat? That's quite impressive."
"I passed a good part of my childhood learning how to scam blacksmiths, especially my uncle."
Both of them burst out laughing. The smithy found the joke funny, but Dean just followed him not to let him know that he was talking utterly serious.
"Ok, ok, brat. You seem like a funny person so I will make it easier for you. I want your techniques in exchange for the Anvil. But to use the hammer, you will need to take part of the resources for me as well." He crossed his arms, showing that he wasn't open to more bargains.
'Hmm, selfish and opportunist. Complicated guy. But that's kind of fair.'
Dean offered a handshake to him.
"I have three days to finish this weapon, so I will need the anvil for a lot of time every single day." He warned.
"Give me the proper payment, so I will let you even sleep here if you want to pass the night working on your project. By the way, my name is Frederick." The man accepted the handshake, and so their deal was done.
"I am Dean. I hope we get along well."