The rhythmic clanging of hammer against the anvil resounded down Velira's roads as Rivyn made his way toward the newly bought workshop. Other blacksmiths were already hard at work: the forges afire, teeming with life. It was a ringing of worked metals that Rivyn had never heard so up close before. He was no longer an observer but part of the symphony.
He paused at the edge of the narrow street, where his shop was resident, still early, with the air cool and crisp; though Rivyn already felt the heat that he knew would come seeping out from the forge inside. He longed for it to begin, but he knew there was a great deal left to do before he could open up the forge and get back to his crafting. His fingers itched.
His workshop was structurally good, but it was next to far from what could be called ready. Much more than cleaning, the building needed reinforcement. Velira in no way resembled the tranquil village he had left. In this place, theft, sabotage, and ruthless competition thrived. For a reason, The System had given him a quest.
[Task Progress: Reinforce the Workshop – 0% Completed.]
Rivyn threw a glance at the notice and took a deep breath. He had two weeks to complete the task, but thinking of all the dangers of this city, he did not want to waste any time. First of all, his task was to provide for the building-reinforcing the doors and windows, securing the walls and fitting reliable locks. Without these procedures everything else was in vain.
He kicked the door open and stepped inside. There was still the faint scent of dust and metal in the air. The tools he had brought with him were still nicely packed inside crates, as if he were coming by to visit them. The forge itself was old, though still ready to take fire again. Rivyn could almost see it: fires roaring high, the repetitive clanging of metal, the hissing of steam from quenching his crafts. First, though, he needed materials.
The city's markets were known for selling everything, from rare ores to finely finished tools, and in finding the workshop, Rivyn had passed a great number of metal sellers. He made a mental note to go see what was available. He'd need thick iron bars, solid hinges, and sheets of steel for the door to secure the shop.
His fingers drummed against the surface of the workbench as his head swam with possibilities. There was something fresh and rejuvenating about a new beginning, even as one considered the difficulties such an undertaking implied. He felt in equal measure terrified by it: Velira was big and new, and he still was very much an outsider. This wasn't just other blacksmiths he competed against here, but craftsmen with years to their name—years with reputations formed.
But that was just why he had come: to be above it all.
Rivyn pushed his way afoot again into Ironworks Market—a great swath of Velira given over to metalworkers and artisans. As often seemed to be the case with shopping streets, this one was filled with people haggling at stalls full of whatever wares fit the respective bill. There was a reek in the air, thick with hot metal and smoke; the noise was utterly overwhelming: hammer on hammer, a constant backbeat.
Rivyn made his way through the bustle, attentive eyes on the alert for anything that would give him a hand in his endeavor. He stopped first at a stand hawking blacksmith supplies, where the portly owner's hands were soot-stained and greasy.
"Looking for something?" the man asked; the grit in his voice cut through the fray of the market.
"I need iron bars and steel plating for reinforcement work. Got anything that'll hold up to some thieves?"
The man chuckled softly as he retrieved a crate from behind the counter. "You're new around here, aren't you?"
"Is that so obvious?" Rivyn asked, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips.
The blacksmith shrugged, answering the look in his eye. "You look freshly from the outskirts. Never you mind; you'll be up to your earholes in Velira before you know it." He levered up the topmost of the slats, revealing a crate packed to the brim with thick iron bars-planted solid and stable. "These'll do for the windows. I've steel plating in the back-thick enough to keep out the usual sort of troublemakers. But if you have enemies, then best get some enchanted."
Rivyn ran his hand along the bars of solid iron; well-fashioned, thick and sturdy enough to reinforce the weaker points of his workshop. "This will do nicely. What's the price?"
The blacksmith leaned on the counter with both hands. "For you? Eighty silver for the lot."
Rivyn raised an eyebrow, fully aware that time was not on his side. Yet, he understood the importance of not overspending. "Seventy. And I'll pay now," he declared firmly.
The man grunted but nodded. "Seventy it is. You're lucky, I'm feeling generous today."
Rivyn handed over the coins, feeling the burden on his dwindling pouch lighten a little more. It wasn't cheap to do so, but he couldn't afford otherwise. The workshop's safety was paramount. The System had been quite keen in that regard.
While the blacksmith was busy getting Rivyn's order ready, his eyes fell on the other market stalls full of all kinds and manner of goods. Some really rare enchanted tools and materials were visible; he couldn't afford them just yet, but working with such magical elements was sure to send a new stream of ideas into his head.
Velira was a city of magic and metal, and his destiny in it far outreached the ordinary crafting of arms and armor. The System had already nudged him into devising new inventions: skill books, potions, accessories. He would have to face up to creating enchanted items as a practical reality sometime in the not-so-near future.
He worked his way back, hauling a wagon filled with iron bars and plates of steel. "Good with the shop," he nodded. "If you need anything more, you know where to find me."
Rivyn said his thanks and began the slow work of heading back to his workshop, leading the cart down through the winding roads. The weight was heavy upon him; his arms ached from it. Deep satisfaction washed over him, for he knew he was on route—closer to the System's request and closer to finding a home here in Velira.
By the time Rivyn was pushing the cart back to his workshop, the sun had gone high in the afternoon. Rivyn unlocked the door and rattled the cart through and inside; the iron bars fell noisily to the floor in the echoing vastness of the large space.
Rivyn spent the rest of the day working. First he barred the windows, fitting the iron bars securely in place with slow, sure hammer-blows that left him confident they were set good and after that he simply laid the steel plates he'd obtained over the door on top of the wood and screwed them in with great bolts.
Sweat was running down his face, the heat of the forge combining with exertion—though Rivyn was used to it. This was his element. He took a little solace in it, in the rhythmic ringing of his hammer and the feel of iron and steel against his skin. His weariness spoke in volumes; there were a hundred different ways one struggled finding his way in a new city, but then, this was his calling.
[Task Progress: Reinforce the Workshop – 40% Completed.]
The notification flashed once, briefly, into his vision; it did not leave him. It is not yet over.
Late into the night, Rivyn only ever stopped when absolutely needed. His shop was starting to take on a life of its own, and with every little touch, it seemed more and more like his home. The forge now stood most precisely cleaned and readied, prepared to be fired again. The walls that had once cracked and fatigued were fixed and strengthened, the windows and doors firmly closed. It wasn't perfect, but it would do, and above all else, it was safe-.
By nightfall, he had completed the labor of bracing up the weakest points in the shop, and no longer rang hammer or anvil out into the nearly-deserted streets. Rivyn stopped in the middle of the workshop to mop his forehead against his arm, and he surveyed the space he had changed so laboriously. That wasn't much, but it was his. Rivyn reached the door, closing it behind him and taking a second to gather himself. That day, he'd done far more than some physical chore; in truth, he'd just taken that first real step to leave his mark upon this world of Velira. The System had led him to this place, and now it told him: Go ahead with the next step.
[Task Progress: Reinforce the Workshop – 80% Completed.]
The chime of the System gradually died as Rivyn reached the forge and for the first time, alighted it. Licks of fire leapt to life there, painting dancing shadows on the walls as a warmth began to suffuse throughout the room, filling it with that now well-felt glow of a living forge. Rivyn released his breath, the burden of the day's toil settling in around him.