The gilt light of the noontide sun stretched out over the sprawl of Velira's streets and set the cobblestones reeling under Rivyn's boots as he wandered the city. The air was alive with the cacophony of merchants clamoring to draw attention to their stalls, adventurers haggling with traders, and the loud buzz of the teeming marketplace district. It was overwhelming in its enormity. He had spent less than a day in Velira, and already he felt the pulsating energy of the city swallow him up, so contrary to the feeling in the quiet little village he had left.
His cart, except for a few personal things and his toolkit, was left in a stable down at the south gate. Rivyn had, for the first time in years, the real sense of freedom—no workshop, no clients to please, vast streets of Velira, with a job ahead that he just could not seem to overcome. He needed to find himself a new workshop.
Not just any shop would do; he needed one that would allow him to make a reputation. Where the adventurers come to seek armor, weapons, and the new tricks of the trade he was learning. Finding the proper location in a city this size proved harder than he'd thought, unfortunately.
He raked his hand through his hair, pushing the sweat from his brow, as he worked his way through the bustling market district. He had come with an idea of a budget, coins enough to get a modest shop saved from his commissions in the village, yet even that was proving just how hopeful he'd been.
New Task Purchase a Workshop and Reinforce It.
[Time Remaining: 14 Days.]
[Reward: 5 System Points.]
In a matter of moments after his arrival in Velira, the System had put out an assignment. Inside two weeks' time, find someplace and make it his own. Rivyn had hoped that would go easily but by the noon of one whole morning, it became quite clear it wasn't going to.
Those first shops he had inquired about had been located in good areas, right in the middle of the principal market area for that matter, with a steady stream of customers; the owners had let him go rather curtly once they had understood the constraints of his budget. Shops in that quarter of Velira were so very costly, much too costly for Rivyn to even think about. Grinding his teeth, he pressed on.
Hours later, he found himself wandering south, where the cacophony of the market grew gradually subdued. The southern district of Velira was decidedly quiet, with narrower streets and a general lack of characteristic polish that several of the richer districts boasted. Still within the city, it was far enough removed from the pulsating heart that prices were more reasonable. Rivyn paused in front of a small tavern and leaned back against the stone wall, catching his breath. His legs ached from hours of walking, and the weight of his pack felt heavier with each step he took. He had not anticipated that this search would take so long, and frustration began to wear on him. The task set by the System loomed over him, its deadline a constant reminder that he didn't have any time to waste.
He couldn't afford to spend weeks idling around town. What he needed was a workshop, and that quick.
Rivyn rubbed his temples, trying to push back the headache that was building. He had enough saved for some modest place or another, but Velira's real estate was considerably pricier than he would have liked. Every shop he visited seemed to be either overpriced, too small, or too rundown, desperately in need of repairs he couldn't afford.
Of course, then there was location. He needed something that would attract customers, yet he couldn't be out in the middle of nowhere; he needed foot traffic on a consistent basis.
A moment later, he shoved off of the wall and moved on, scanning structures as he pressed deeper into the district. This part of town seemed to cater more to the local adventurers and traders who found themselves living just far enough from the heart of Velira so that its lifeblood's hum wasn't as constant as a summer cicada. Shops here were softer, lacking the savage sheen of the glittering storefronts of the main market.
But also means they were less expensive.
As he walked, his mind strayed back to the village he had left. For years, it had been his everything: a haven of rhythmic clanging of steels, acid smell of coal burning, and the warm glow of forged metal. But the village was too little for his swelling ambitions, and sure as anything, the System spelled out Velira as the next stop on his path.
It was so much harder to leave it all behind than he thought, though. So set was he in the quiet, in the familiarity of the same faces day after day. Rivyn felt like a drop in an endless ocean in this sprawling city. The excitement he felt upon arrival slowly grasped onto doubt.
Would he ever find a shop within his price range, and if he did, would he ever really stand a chance among the blacksmiths that already occupied Velira?
A rumble of clouds miles away broke Rivyn from his reverie. The sky darkened, and a cool breeze meandered through narrow streets with a fresh smell of impending rain. He realized that he was going to have to find a place to take cover soon.
It was as if his silent wish had been answered, for Rivyn's eyes came to rest on a small sign, weathered, hanging over a door nearby. The words, though faded, were distinctly readable: "Blacksmith Shop for Rent". The building was inconspicuous between two larger ones and could have gone without his notice. Yet, something in it drew Rivyn's attention.
He stepped forward a little, squinting up at the facade. The stonework walls stood solid if pocked by time, and the door looked sturdy. A small window next to it allowed a brief look inside at the shop—there sat the forge and anvil, quiet and dusty, waiting. It might be a little small, but it seemed serviceable.
Rivyn stood a moment outside the door, a heartbeat of time, before turning and opening it. A creak of the wooden floor beneath his boots announced his entry. The air was musty in his nostrils; the room was dark. Yet something here in the workshop seemed hopeful. It was an older forge-older, yet workable; there was space enough for his tools and stock.
It was far from perfect, but it was much better than some of the other places he had seen.
"Can I help you?" The rough voice echoed from the back of the store.
Rivyn turned to find an older man stepping out from a side door, hands marred with soot and grease. As he drew closer, he wiped his hands on a rag, eyes narrowing as he regarded Rivyn. "You here about the shop?"
Rivyn nodded thoughtfully. "I noticed the sign outside. I'm in search of a place to establish my forge."
The old man grunted, folding his arms. "You a blacksmith, then?
"That is right," Rivyn's voice was firm. "I have been working in a village south of here, but want to move my business to Velira."
The old man eyed him for a second before shrugging. "Well, that shop's available for rent if that piques your interest. It's not luxurious, but it sure is functional."
He turned to take a final look around the room. The forge was in good repair, and there was plenty of room for his needs. It was not right in the heart of the city but near enough that it was close to both adventurer's guilds and trade roads from which to attract customers.
"For how much?" Rivyn asked at last, turning back to him.
This made him stroke his chin for a moment, before answering, "Two hundred silver per month. First two months up front,.
Rivyn's gut clenched. It was more than he had been hoping to pay, but it wasn't an entirely unreasonable price. He could swing it for now, but it would bite deeply into the funds he was setting aside to stock up on materials and bolster the shop. Still, it was one of the better offers he'd received that day.
"I shall take it," said Rivyn, digging into his coin pouch. He counted out the silver pieces and extended his hand to the blacksmith, who nodded slightly in acknowledgment and took the money.
"Good, the old man grunted, pocketing the coins. "All yours, then. Keys are over with the forge. Just clean up after yourself.
With that, he turned and was gone through the door, leaving Rivyn to his own devices in the darkly lit workshop. The quiet wrapped around him like a heavy blanket.
It was finished. He had found his shop. Rivyn let out a deep breath, his shoulders finally relaxed from the burdens of the day's search. He approached the forge, his fingers tracing over the aged stone and metal. Sure, it needed some care, cleaning, repair, and reinforcement, but it was promising. And it was his now.
He found the keys, hanging near the forge; he tucked them into his pocket. Outside, it had begun to rain; a soft tattoo of raindrops played against the window. The city was still noisy, full of life - utterly unimpressed by the downpour - and Rivyn realized he hardly had time for this.
He still had one last deed to perform.
Rivyn dove into the morning's work, cleaning the shop. The floors were to be swept free of dust, the walls scrubbed clean, so that only the faintest remnants of soot remained, and the forge was given a careful going-over. It was heavy work, but the exercise proved balm to his mind. By morning, his doubts and fears blew away little by little, as leaves in the autumn wind, with the simple rhythm of preparation that soothed him.
By the time night fell, the shop was in far better shape. It wasn't perfect but would be a start. Rivyn rubbed his hand across his brow, leaned back against the forge, and took in the place. He could picture it now: the shelves full of equipment, the fire roaring in the forge, and the people coming in and ordering their weapons and armor. Yet one more step remained to be taken. He had made it clear with the System: the shop needed some reinforcing.
Velira was a city of opportunities, indeed, but not devoid of its risks either. He knew that to keep his tools safe, he would have to keep his craft safe and, ultimately, himself; the shop had to be secure. He cast a fleeting glance at the door, observing the frail hinges and the fissures snaking through the wood. The windows, though small, represented yet another point of weakness. Anyone sufficiently resolute could easily gain entry. "Iron for the doors," Rivyn murmured to himself and started to list mentally what he would need. "Steel for the windows. And locks-strong ones." In any case, he would need several days to collect his materials and make the changes that would be involved, so he didn't have much option.
The system had allowed him two weeks to complete the work and Rivyn was not one to delay over anything so long as the shop was safe and sound. With the night bearing heavier, Rivyn locked up the shop and headed towards the inn where he had taken a small room for himself. Rain stopped; the street was slick and glazed in moonlight. Night market in Velira was alive with action; shouting of merchants, rattling of carts on the streets called out through the air. A sense of resolution washed over Rivyn as he walked the city. He'd found his workshop; now it was time he made it his own.