2-25 Veiled sword
The morning of Quinteburg brought a disparate feeling to that of Green Scar. In Green Scar, Erin could feel the eagerness of the town’s folk at dawn of every new day. People greeted each other when they walked by, but in Quinteburg, Erin saw none of those. Under so of those smiles she had seen among the festivity, there was despair and lancholy. The morning here was too brimming with life and it was certainly loud but that was the extent of it. On the surface this town was a place filled with promises but at a narrow glance, those promises ca at great costs and so of those promises never even bore fruit.
The recent aberrant happenings weren’t the reason but it did worsened the veiled gloomy mood of the town. Erin was surprised to learn of the food’s prices when they were having their supper at a random eatery. It was doubled the price in Green Scar. Everything was more expensive here but the quality wasn’t that much different. In fact, so were even inferior to Green Scar. There was a lot of demand for everything but not every business was able to et the demand, giving rise to the cause of the high prices. Even the inn they were currently staying at was nothing of exorbitant. The cost for one night could last them three days in Green Scar’s Verdant Inn.
After having so light al of pure vegetable sandwich for breakfast, Erin decided to scour the town alone. Lyra and Celia had proposed to tag along but in her better judgent, Erin insisted on going alone as it would be less conspicuous. To further be less conspicuous, she cast Twilight Veil on herself. It was the second ti she had used it and the first ti Lyra had witnessed it. Short black hair without the tails and ears. Her eyes beca dark brown. Lyra was drooling at the “new” Erin but Celia hid behind Lyra’s legs. Lyra instantly proposed to Erin to keep this appearance for their nightly activities but Erin knocked her head as an answer.
In her disguised appearance, Erin strode through the town while keeping vigilance towards any unruly individuals. Erin’s intent was to familiarize herself with the town and at the sa ti, find out what she could about the Corvas Twins. Iris had promised to help but in a town where her sources were limited to a relatively modest amount, it would take a day at least for any related information to surface.
Erin and Lyra had gone back to the Guild yesterday after their supper to turn in their escort quest. They received their reward from the Guild, which was a heap of gold. Although the gold was given to them by the Guild, it was technically paid out of Iris’ pocket. The amount was clearly more than what she had told the pair. Erin wasn’t that good with numbers and neither was Lyra, so the two didn’t pursue the matter further. As the expenses were higher in Maven’s Creek, Erin didn’t think the gold was too much. As they were leaving, the kind Guild receptionist had given them so information regarding the town in a form of a list on a paper.
With the paper in hand, Erin was currently walking through a street scattered with stalls. These stalls weren’t of the rchants but the locals. Apparently, it was currently the harvest season for this town and it was purely coincidental that the rchant caravans arrived at such an impeccable ti, or so she was told. Due to the rchant caravans on the other end of the town, the crowd wasn’t too packed in this area. The stalls mainly sold vegetables, poultries, liquors, and such. There was nothing unique about all those products displayed. As Erin passed by a few more similar stalls, she ca to the conclusion that this town was one that valued quantity over quality. Even so, the town could not keep up with the demand with that mindset.
One aspect Erin could applaud Quinteburgh for was its security. There were guard patrols at every corner but at the sa ti, the Ruvan Paladins could also be found everywhere although not at the numbers of the town guards. Erin roughly guessed for every ten guards, there was one Ruvan Paladin lurking about. Since she was in disguise, she didn’t draw much attention to herself. Still, she did garnered quite a lot of curious gazes from the passersby. She managed to hide her true race but her beauty was still plain in view.
“What a sinful woman I am,” Erin praised herself but regretted it in the next second. She was soone with pride but not soone egoistical.
As she turned into a corner of the street, she was greeted by rows of blacksmith shops. There were at least half a dozen smithies in this street alone. From the information given to her by the Guild, there was a district, known as the Gold District, where only the richest wandered in. In that district, there was a blacksmith who could forge arms of high quality. But looking at the quality of these common smiths alone, Erin didn’t have much expectation for the blacksmith in the Gold District. Although she did think her standards were dulled by Sven’s adept craftsmanship.
Looking at the price of a single steel sword, Erin fought down the urge to make her complaint. Her silver-steel saber cost as much as a single steel sword here and the quality wasn’t that much better. It really deepened Erin’s perception of just how dire the situation the town was actually in. Asking around the blacksmiths, the recent anomalies had cause the adventurers and their suppliers to demand for a higher price in retrieving the tal ores from the wilderness, sothing the blacksmiths couldn’t just nod their heads to.
Erin had half a mind to purchase another sword as a contingency but knowing the quality, she had so reservations. What surprised her even more was that none of the blacksmiths here knew how to slt silver and steel into one kind. They all told her the sa answer, it was ridiculous and impossible to achieve for blacksmiths of their level. Erin then rembered how Geron had been a blacksmith before taking on the role of the Guild Master. He was taught by Elven masters in the way of the smith, which he then passed on the knowledge to his sons.
“Sven is really sothing else huh...”
Only now, Erin realized how fortunate she had been as Green Scar’s town was the first settlent she ca by. No doubt she would hold a more unpleasant view towards this world had she been reincarnated near Maven’s Creek.
Just as she was thinking about leaving this disappointing street that stung her soul every ti she laid her eyes upon the poor quality of these swords, a familiar scent tingled her nose and reeled her attention. She turned to her back and found the two Wolf-kin siblings of the Blackwood Tribe, bargaining with a blacksmith regarding so purchase.
“Oh right, Siv did lose her sword back then.”
It didn’t look like it was going well since the male sibling, Wrev was pulling on the collar of the blacksmith while casting an intense glare
Erin didn’t intend to interfere, as she was in disguise, until Wrev raised his fist. Erin hastened her movents with Fleet Foot and covered the short distance between them in seconds. She grabbed hold of Wrev’s arm and yanked him back.
Erin underestimated Wrev. He was quick to react and he turned her hold against her. He twisted his body around and turned his fist to her. Erin dodged his punch but he was already winding up another. But before he could throw that punch, Siv landed a straight kick to his side that sent him sprawling across the ground.
“Thank you,” Siv thanked Erin before turning to the blacksmith. “Forgive us about that, Master Smith. My brother is still unversed towards the rules and ethics of humans,” Siv apologized with grace that contrasted her brother’s deanor completely.
“I don’t care about all that,” the smith responded with a scoff. “You’re either buying or you get the hell out of my shop. His threat ain’t the first I receive and I don’t expect it to be the last. Now, sixty silver, take it or leave it. No more bargaining. I got other work to do, be quick about it.”
Siv was still hesitating but Erin tossed a pouch of silver to the blacksmith. “We’ll take it.”
The blacksmith received the pouch without a word. He weighted the pouch in his palm before handing the steel sword to Siv and disappeared to the back.
“Lady Erinthea, you don’t have to—”
“Treat this as my gratitude, Siv. You helped a lot and you were quite… good in bed,” Erin said with a warm smile but her smile quickly faded. “Wait… how did you know it was ?” She touched her hair and where her ears were supposed to be; her hair was still short and she couldn’t feel her ears.
Siv tittered. “Your scent, milady. After that night, I could never forget your scent,” said Siv without a shred of embarrassnt present on her expression.
“That Fae?” Wrev groaned as he slowly got himself off the ground.
“Wrev, mind your words and manners before you eat dirt again.”
“This Fae is the one you gave your virtue to? What were you thinking, Siv?”
Siv glared at her brother. “She has earned my respect, Wrev. You are to show her yours too. You are to address her as Lady Erinthea.”
“Don’t let your guard down, Siv. They may act sophisticated but the mont you give them your trust, they’ll— pfft!” Before Wrev could finish his sentence, Siv drove a straight into his belly.
Erin ignored the now whimpering Wrev. “Why did you buy a sword from a local smith? I’m sure one of your employer’s peers would have a sword worthy of your skill and affordable for your budget.”
“Those swords are excessive for a person of my level. A weapon must be on par with its wielder, only then could one determine their true strength.”
“That creed again...” Wrev muttered in between his groans. He was still clutching his belly. “Siv, we’re on our own now. No use following the creed.”
Like Erin, Siv too ignored her brother’s rambling. “Well then, Lady Erinthea. I must bid you farewell for now. We have a titable to adhere to.”
“Then I won’t delay you further. Till we et again, Siv.”
“It’s always an honor to be in your presence, Lady Erinthea. Should you feel lonely at night, I will always be available to you,” Siv said and walked down the street along with her Wrev.
“W-what? I thought night was your shift?” Erin heard Wrev complain as the sibling disappeared into a corner but she paid it no heed.
Erin resud her walk along the streets lined with smithies. Out of the seven smithies on this street, only one of them had a Dwarrow at the forge. It went without saying the Dwarrow’s craft was significantly better than other blacksmiths. However, the Dwarrow’s smithy was also the one with the least custors. In fact, Erin saw none approach the Dwarrow’s shop ever since she strode into this street.
The Dwarrow’s smithy was the smallest among the seven. On closer inspection, it couldn’t even be called a shop. It was more like a booth. The Dwarrow had his forge to the open air unlike the other smithies which kept their forge hidden in the shop.
As Erin approached the Dwarrow’s smithy, she noticed a rack of swords which could only be described as disorderly. The swords were randomly leaned against the rack instead of being properly placed. All of the swords there were used and rusty. Among these swords, one stood out to her. It looked just like any other sword without any interesting features to note. However, Erin could feel the history it had and all the blood it shed. The forr wielder had taken great care of this sword. She used her Spirit Sight on instinct and found Spirits were latching on that sword, covering the entirety of the sword’s body. Upon Appraisal, she discovered the sword was under the effect of Twilight Veil.
Her interest was instantly piqued.
“Pardon , master smith,” Erin called out to the Dwarrow.
The Dwarrow was working the forge and he spared only a sidelong glance at Erin. “Whatcha want, lassie? Ya looking for a weapon, taking a gander at my— ooh, that’s a fine sword ya got there, lassie. Welp, ya be disappointed, lassie. My swords won’t be better than the one ya already have.”
“I want to ask about this sword,” she said and took the sword into her hand from the rack.
“Oh those swords? They’re used and old. Slting them back to materials ain’t worth the ti and gold. Might as well sell them off for a small profit.”
“People will buy these?”
“Greenhorns will. They often don’t have enough for a proper sword. These swords will serve them just fine until they get enough silver to get a proper sword.”
“What about this sword in particular?” Erin did a few practice swings with the sword.
“Oh that? Got it from a passing rchant. He got it from the original owner. It’s a family heirloom but as you can see, the sword’s care is neglected by the family.”
“Was the rchant so sort of collector?”
“Nah, just so plain rchant.”
“The original owner sold his heirloom off to so random rchant?”
“Ah, he didn’t sell it. The original owner killed himself with this sword, running from gambling debts apparently, ran straight into his own sword, heh. The sword’s a fine craft, no question, but can’t sell it for its real worth now. The steel’s rusted and the blades chipped more than a highwayman’s serrated dagger. Fucking sods have no respect for swords.”
“Curious...” Erin muttered. “I’ll take it. How much?”
“You will? I’m sure you can afford a better sword, lassie. Ya certainly no greenhorn and with how fair yer skin is, I’m sure you have enough silver to spend for a proper sword.”
“That won’t be necessary. This sword is just what I need, if I can just dispel the Twilight Veil cast on it sohow.”
“Well, if ya say so. That will be a silver. Everything’s a silver from that rack.”
“Only a silver? I know it’s rusted and chipped but it’s such a fine craft though.”
“Lass, I’m no collector and certainly ain’t no posh appraiser. I judge a sword’s value by how fine of a cut it could leave. That sword, I doubt it will leave a cut at all. But I reckon ya can still beat so fool with it and it’ll hurt. A silver, unless you’re willing to pay more, lassie.”
Erin said nothing more and paid a silver to the Dwarrow. She sheathed the rusted sword into the scabbard of the broadsword she lost to the Razor Grizzly.
“I’ll make that Necromancer pay for that. For now, let’s figure out how to dispel this spell, if I can.”
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