Chapter 10: Exploring The Wayward Haven
The morning light seeped through the small window of their room at The Broken Crown, casting a pale glow across the simple furnishings. Isla rubbed her eyes and stretched, her muscles sore from the long journey and the tense night. She looked over at Auren, who was already up, standing by the window, watching the street below.
"You didn't wake me," Isla said, her voice still thick with sleep.
Auren glanced back at her, his expression unreadable. "You needed the rest. Besides, nothing happened. It was quiet."
Isla sighed, pulling herself out of bed. She couldn't argue with that. "Alright, what's the plan? We still need supplies, and we need to find out more about that old city the barkeep mentioned."
Auren nodded, turning away from the window. "We'll start by seeing what this town has to offer. Keep your guard up, Isla. The people here are as unpredictable as the mana beasts out there."
The Marketplace
The streets were already bustling when they stepped outside. Vendors shouted their wares, children ran through the narrow alleys, and the occasional mercenary, in battered armor, moved through the crowd with an air of casual menace. The market was a chaotic blend of colors, scents, and sounds, and Isla felt her senses almost overwhelmed by it all.
They moved through the narrow paths between stalls, passing tables piled high with trinkets and old world relics—everything from rusted machinery to small, glittering gemstones that seemed to hum with latent mana. Isla's eyes caught sight of a stall lined with books and scrolls, and she tugged Auren's sleeve, nodding towards it.
"Books. Maybe there's something about the old temples," she said, her eyes bright with curiosity.
Auren nodded, and they approached the stall. The merchant, an older man with a thick mustache and a keen glint in his eye, greeted them with a smile that was missing more than a few teeth.
"Welcome, welcome! You have an eye for the valuable, I see," he said, gesturing to the scrolls and tomes spread out before him. "What are you looking for? Stories? Histories? Or perhaps something a bit more... arcane?"
Isla exchanged a glance with Auren. "We're looking for information on the old world. Temples, ruins—anything connected to the gods."
The merchant's eyes widened slightly, and his smile became more calculating. "Ah, the old world, is it? Not many come here looking for knowledge. Most want things they can trade or use to survive." He leaned forward, lowering his voice. "I do have something, though it's not cheap. Information about the temples is dangerous, you know."
Auren's eyes narrowed. "How much?"
The merchant held up his hands, chuckling. "Easy, easy. I like to barter. Perhaps you have something interesting to trade? Coins are good, but I prefer relics. Artifacts from before the Surge." His gaze flicked to Isla's wrist, where the faint glow of her warding bracelet was visible beneath her sleeve.
Isla shifted, pulling her sleeve down to cover the bracelet. "We don't have much to trade, but we have some coins."
The merchant frowned, looking disappointed but not entirely dissuaded. "Well, let's see what you've got, then."
Auren pulled a few of the golden coins from his pocket, the ones they had taken from the temple. The merchant's eyes widened as he inspected them, his fingers running over the intricate designs. He nodded slowly. "Alright, alright. I can tell you something useful for these. There's an old tale—people say that to the north, there's a ruin where the gods once walked. A city, built in their honor, where their secrets were kept hidden from mortals. It's dangerous, though. Haunted, they say. The dead walk there."
Isla felt a chill run down her spine. "The same city the barkeep mentioned?"
The merchant nodded. "Aye, the same. Most who go looking for it don't come back. But if it's secrets you want, that's the place to start."
Auren handed over the coins, his expression unreadable. "Thank you."
The merchant pocketed the coins quickly, glancing around as if to make sure no one else had seen the exchange. "Be careful, travelers. Not everyone here is as friendly as me."
Auren gave a curt nod, turning away from the stall, and Isla followed, her mind racing. "A haunted city," she muttered. "That's where we're headed, isn't it?"
"It seems that way," Auren replied. "But first, we need to make sure we're prepared. There are supplies we need, and I'd like to know more about this town before we move on."
The Blacksmith - Orin's Forge
As they moved away from the marketplace, Isla spotted a sign depicting a hammer striking an anvil. The clang of metal on metal echoed through the air, and she nudged Auren. "Look, a blacksmith. If we're going into a place like that, we need to make sure we're well-equipped."
The blacksmith's shop was small, with a covered forge set up outside and racks of weapons and armor lining the walls. A burly man stood by the forge, his face streaked with soot, his arms thick with muscle. He looked up as they approached, his eyes narrowing appraisingly.
"Need something forged? Or just browsing?" he asked, his voice a low rumble.
Auren glanced at Isla before speaking. "We need something practical. Armor, perhaps a weapon for her," he said, nodding towards Isla.
The blacksmith, Orin, grunted and gestured to the racks. "Armor's there. As for weapons, I've got swords, daggers, and a few enchanted pieces if you've got the coin for it." He eyed them both, his gaze lingering on Isla. "You look like you could use something light. A dagger, maybe?"
Isla stepped forward, her eyes scanning the weapons. She picked up a small dagger, its blade glinting in the firelight. It felt well-balanced, the handle fitting comfortably in her hand. "How much for this?"
Orin scratched his beard, his eyes thoughtful. "For that one, five silver. It's a good blade, won't break on you. And if you've got anything to trade, I might be willing to knock the price down."
Isla glanced at Auren, who nodded. She handed over the coins, and Orin took them, tucking them into a pouch at his waist. "Good choice," he said. "If you're heading north, you'll need something reliable. Word is, there are all kinds of nasties up that way."
Auren nodded. "That's what we've heard. Any advice on what else we might need?"
Orin paused, then gestured to a rack of leather armor. "If you're not used to fighting, you'll want something to protect you. That leather there is tough, treated with mana to resist cuts and claws. It won't stop a sword, but it'll keep you alive if something gets too close."
Isla ran her hand over the leather, feeling the reinforced seams. It was light, flexible—something she could move in without feeling weighed down. "How much?"
Orin eyed her for a moment, then nodded. "Ten silver. And I'll throw in a pair of gloves. No charge."
Auren handed over the coins without hesitation, and Orin fetched the armor, helping Isla adjust the straps until it fit snugly. He stepped back, nodding approvingly. "There. That should keep you safe. Just remember—armor's only as good as the person wearing it. Stay alert, and don't take any chances."
Isla smiled, adjusting the gloves he'd given her. "Thanks, Orin. We appreciate it."
The blacksmith grunted, turning back to his forge. "Just don't go dying out there. Makes my work look bad."