“All three, yes. My master dispatched the ones I couldn’t handle.”
I suppose it would be difficult for her to tell stories about how I trained her in pottery when I’d never done so. Instead it was a mostly accurate retelling of our more combative encounters on the road. Her village had a lackluster clerical presence, so her affinity for martial prowess couldn’t just be written off as cultural.
Without so much a peep about Rea, or even a complaint about the mathematics or singing lessons, like I only taught her to fight. Between agreeing that she did well at the time, Daron caught me making vexed expressions. He thought it funny, but refrained from revealing my concern.
“Impressive work for a little potter. I think you two are a good sign. People are eager to leave stagnant pools. They leave little villages looking for opportunity in Medean, they leave the saturated Medean looking for vacancies in the outskirts.” With a tired exhale, he looked up past the decorated cross beams. “I guess that means we’ll have time to talk in the future, so I should get to work. We can’t be pointlessly delaying things. Aldrich, I recommend you talk to Josef, the smith down Dressen’s Street.”
He looked over at Tagalong Girl, before deciding against actually saying anything further.
“A good innkeep is good at reading people.”
“I’ll take it as a compliment.”
“We’ll see.”
Both of us rose from our chairs, with Lucy following quickly after. She gave a slight bow— something Theodore said was a strange custom, but since this was our first long term deception I wouldn’t go overboard and let the paper-thin guise stand— to the man who already had his back to us, heading for the cellar stair.
Ria had fallen asleep on a cushioned chair(quite the luxury suite) with a spool of thread partially unwound rolling away from her. Quickly winding it back up and setting it atop the embroidery hoop, a
As my apprentice followed, I wondered how much she considered Ria’s situation. I would have if there had been a need to wonder. Being blatantly pensive was her signature move.
Chatting with Daron took up less than an hour, so the town square was no longer vacant. Two peddlers from neighboring villages brought in what looked to be a few sizable barrels of pitch, along with some smaller jugs they were trying to hawk to a black-haired local. Two women were also chattering in front of the well, bucket bobbing down in the water as a tepid weaver’s apprentice refused to interrupt them, shifting her weight back and forth, fiddling with a tiny sheath at her hip.
As I unhitched Sparky, and ‘fed’ him a carrot, I rhetorically asked,
“Would you like to introduce yourself now?”
“No.”
“Remember Lucy, we’re settling down here. Let’s see what’s so interesting about Josef first.”
She cast a bold glance at each person present from my shadow, metaphorically speaking, since Dressen’s Street ran north-northwest. Only the nervous girl noticed; a shame, her anxiety ruled out the possibility of befriending ‘Lucy’ barring unforeseen scenarios. Hopefully Daron pointed us towards the smith with something in mind.
After a quick walk down the road, a delightfully strong metallic scent breached my nose. And from Lucy’s scrunching face, an acrid compound must have been floating about. The cooler autumn temperature was subsumed as we approached an open forge, the only building on the street with a stone base.
A big man, almost to my chin and half again as wide as I, skimmed the top of a crucible with a ridged rod rather resembling rebar. Slag coagulated quickly, and he dunked it into a barrel of water for a quick second, withdrawing it and smacking it against an anvil, letting dull shards shatter into a pile half a foot high that showed this was not a one time process. Then, he added a fist of grey powder into the mix, stirring them in with a smoother implement.
Through familiarity, his successor needed no signal. A girl that shared her father’s slightly wavy brown hair increased the intensity with which she operated the bellows. Her eyes took notice of us, but since we remained silent, she stayed focused(is it really staying focused though if you’re distracted and fully process the interruption?). Tagalong Girl was at most three years her junior. With a familiar seriousness, I praised Daron in my mind.
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He’s a good innkeeper for sure.
The fire greedily sucked up tempestuous winds, crackling between each grand woosh. Josef set charcoal onto flames’ edge with a shovel after scooping old ash. Embers pulsed hotter with each gust, glowing frantically. Tagalong Girl was not concerned with the judgement of others, stepping behind me to shield her from the worst of the radiating heat. Even the blacksmith, stripped down to his trousers sweat so profusely he angled himself not to constantly drip into the alloy. The girl’s shirt was torn at the shoulders, revealing a few burn scars of overeagerness, and what truly had my apprentice locked in, defined forearms of a good size(for a tween).
Oh no, in my pursuit of pragmatism, have I turned you into a muscle maniac? But what about all the elegance and wit in the styles I’ve shown you! The dexterity training, the calisthenics, I’ve avoided using brute force in all your combat drills!
Rival or friend, this one was much more promising.
Another blast of hot air tossed my ponytail around and fussed up my hair. I’d let go of my spurious
With that, he tipped over the crucible casting a dozen ingots. The girl rushed over to begin one final skimming of molten impurities. Josef observed her technique for a few moments before speaking, without turning to look at us.
“We won’t repair your weapons here. Head a village east of here if you just need a new spear.”
“Lucy?”
Not to hide, she lightly hopped forward to my side.. Keeping down ‘ums’ and ‘ahs’, she looked across the workshop. However, Josef would grow impatient if I left her at it too long.
“You’re overthinking it, look at that pile of arrowheads. Bodkins, broadheads, and comparatively few dedicated to hunting. Those blades look more like a *podao* than clearing underbrush. Most obviously… just about everyone here has a weapon on them at all times. Even if they don’t see much use, they need more care than just being kept sharp.” This analysis had the blacksmith turn towards us.
“I said we won’t repair your weapons here. Traveler, we have enough local work to keep us in business.”
“I purchased Fredrick’s old home. We are locals now. Nor do we require repairs right now. I’m simply seeking out those that might require my goods.”
Working with metal and extreme heat changes meant a lot of chances for subpar pottery to break. With Fredrick not making jars precisely to Daron’s specifications meant either lacking ability, or a profiteer mindset that could give out intentionally poor quality goods to sell replacements later.
And I was starting to get their attention. The girl was now listening in to our conversation instead of moving to a new task, while Josef furrowed his sweaty brow. Trying to look casual, he slowly panned between myself and Tagalong Girl, a difficult task given our height difference.
“Don’t try to get smart with me, boy.” Pops, you’re 40 at most. “Dressen’s going to keel over seeing whatever you are. This place is changing too fast for him.”
“Ullool, a place of change? Daron called it stagnant.” Aldrich, not one for keeping what you said private. Referencing someone who stood at the center of the village— geographically at least— wore away his roughest edges at least.
“Of course he would. Probably half the people he sees are as abnormal as you. Gustave meets with him every morning and likely dismisses anything not money related as trivial. Daron does not understand the true state of Ullool, no matter how much he gossips.”
I wanted to press the issue, but held a strong suspicion I wouldn’t be getting much more today. Grabbing tongs to pull up some bars instead of continuing to talk was my biggest clue. Still glowing he set one on an anvil, shooting a glance towards his daughter, who brought over a smith’s hammer.
Rhythmically he began pounding out the impurities. Several rounds of chemical leaching, followed by mechanically removing contaminants. Going through this effort for an alloy meant iron was scarce here.
“The name is Aldrich, and my apprentice is Lucy.”
“By the honor of the Patriarch or whatever. I’m Josef, that’s my daughter Diale. It’s not like I’m going to refuse to buy from you. But we’re busy.”
“I’ll likely see you in the tavern at some point then.”
With a harrumph, Josef turned his attention away and remained silent. Wordlessly Diale handed tools over as needed, and now could try to evaluate us on her own. From there, we backed off.
“Frederick’s house is to the north. Odds are we’ll be passing by the forge every day.” I remarked. “After throwing at least one pot a day. Did you see how focused Diale was? There’s no doubt that you will reach a similar level after applying yourself, Lucy.”
‘You need to focus on the core of your deception.’ in other words. For the two to interact properly, Tagalong Girl was going to need to show some actual skill in pottery. Enough to fool those unfamiliar. She had a week at most— time for us to move in and locate a good source of clay. After that, delays could risk indicating incompetence.
We couldn’t head out for a quick open house just yet. While I could leave Ria in reliable albeit incorporeal hands, with Sparky in manual mode, that would result in our horse vanishing into thin air.
Also, there was still a little more information to collect regarding the power dynamics in town. A vague sketch was appearing, with gaps that direct supporters of Gustave or Balduin would fill. Preferably Balduin, who I’d not yet met.
Consider, Balduin was part of an old family of wainwrights, so his deepest ties were with tradesmen that sold goods to other villages or perhaps a devoted peddler. If Gustave pressured other members of Ullool to keep prices low with his general store, a peddler likely made a tidy profit. From Daron describing an almost thoughtlessly aggressive nature, Gustave would drive out a merchant not affiliated with his business.
We should find a local industry producing a surplus. Other than that, we needed to find an ‘event’ that let us interact in a more meaningful way than just chatter. Since Daron opened his tavern to sell common meals just before noon, returning to the inn itself was of little use.
“We’ll wait near the well for a while.”
Tagalong Girl silently followed as we marched back the way we came. A few more faces were on the road, but I wasn’t being friendly enough to proactively introduce myself to new neighbors. Instead, it was a toss-up between either suspicion or ambivalence, although both came with a displeased undercurrent.
Not many villages had reacted this way. Despite an unnatural height, with magic and unnatural beasts being established fact, it was no more than an unusual sight. Instead one could feel the minor rift between townsfolk in polarized behavior. Balduin acted in a strangely egalitarian stance, so long as they benefit Ullool, which led to strange characters starting to gather.
His supporters would deal with us, so long as we did prove ourselves useful, but more orthodox followers of the Church were no doubt being pushed farther bit by bit.
Yes, unfortunately I was being lumped in with several elves that lived in Ullool.
Tagalong Girl hardly paid casual passers by enough attention to discern that it was more than just curiosity towards a visitor that drew their gaze. So, to make her a more active participant, and provoke a reaction, I had her start practicing her letters in the village center.
Standing back along the southwest street next to our cart, it was once again time to be patient and wait for a moment to act.