Chapter Two: Of Exploration and the Forge

A young man woke up, his eyes opening slowly and not reacting to his sense being briefly being overwhelmed by light or sound. Voices and calls from a distant location filled his head, the wind and echos of a living world, the rush of his blood, the sounds of his gut, the creak of his bones...

"Life is loud." Corwyn noted with a small chuckle. "Limbo was so quiet. Only the storms of dust were present, and even then those were rare events." Corwyn stood up, brushing off his simple mossy green tunic and brown workman pants. He kicked his boots against a stone wall, getting feeling into his feet and stretched his body as to get used to having nerves again.

"Living again, how wonderful, how strange." Corwyn noted to himself, feeling his tongue and mouth, tasting the air as he spoke.

He felt a distant buzz in the back of his mind and felt his Friend's gift and boon well up inside his soul. He felt the small charges buzz around inside his being, and gave a soft sigh.

He ignored it for now, caring more for the simpler needs of life than those more magnificent and supernatural.

He walked out of the shadowy ally he'd woken up inside of, moving and joining foot traffic of what was undoubtedly a fantasy world. His eyes were greeted with the sight of many new races moving too and fro, from the rare elves, normal humans, small burly men, and strangely children that acted as adults.

'Halflings.' Corwyn figured as he watched one slap a scantily clad woman's ass. It'd be too weird to consider the other option. His feet carried him on his journey through the large city he didn't have a name for. He found towering wall on the edges of the city, all circling around the center of the city; a massive tower that reached towards the heavens.

Corwyn's journey through the city wasn't unproductive. Acting like a tourist, the young man of nineteen years of age talked to many of the locals, finding the name of the city was Orario, the massive tower was called Babel and was placed over something called 'The Dungeon'. He entered bars and inns, ordering a glass of water and asking if they knew of anyone that was needed work.

He washed the dishes for a quick and simple meal, he entered a small book store and read simple books in languages that he just understood the second his eyes laid on them until he was kicked out. He ventured to the Entertainment District, eyes following seductive woman moving about the bright noon as they prepared for their late working hours. He ventured to the northern district and found himself walking around the industrial district and watching smiths hammer metal into blades and armor.

It was fascinating work, all told.

"Lad! You just gonna stand there and watch, or are you going to buy something?" One old man yelled with a frown on his face.

Corwyn looked over and smiled, "Ain't got a coin to my name, old man. So for now, I'll just watch."

The man huffed, "Hmm, alright then. If you're going to do that, then jump on the bellows! Get some muscle on your skinny arms, brat."

Corwyn snorted, but pushed himself off the wall he was resting at and moved to the bellow and started pushing.

A few hours passed and Corwyn found himself quickly adapting to the flow of the smithy. He never once touched a hammer, but ran to the back several times to grab tools or materials from rushing smiths, heated up forges, polished finished work under threat of death if he scuffed them up, took inventory and measurements of various materials for the smiths. His work was a feat of constant adaptation, but none of it was found exactly 'difficult' or needing great skill.

Corwyn found himself somewhat confused by just how...smooth he was going through his work. His memories of his past never placed him as someone who could work himself to the bone, follow vague orders, and flow just as well as he had today. He figured it might have been his final request to his Friend, granting him a 'refined' body and mind. He didn't see himself complaining if being quick to the uptake was what that brought him.

He joined the smiths for their 'second lunch break', finding himself greeted to a hearty meal of soup placed before him and engaged in asking questions about the practice of smithing.

"Lad, you looking to be a smith?" One of the smiths ask, a lean middle-aged man asked as he put away some beer.

"Rinok! Step off, brats got too sharp of a mind for your work." Another smith laughed as Rinok frowned.

"I was being serious, Nov. Brat might not have the build, but a few trips to the inn and some hard work will fix that quick. No, he knows his numbers, he can read, quick on the uptake -hell quicker than I was- and by the smile on his face, likes smithing." Rinok bit back at the short and old dwarf.

There was a lull between the smithing group, Corwyn himself surprised by the offer. "I appreciate the offer, but I'm worse than a novice. I'd be a blank sheet."

The smiths snorted. "Brat, you haven't a clue just how rare of a thing you just said was. You want to be a smith, but most who come to Orario seek to join a smithing familia, level up, and quickly retire to some country or noble willing to pay out the ass for their work. Being a smith is easy retirement, and Orario attracts all sorts of fools willing to throw their lives in the grinder for a chance. Most come down from Zolingham, city of swords, they call it." The smiths all snorted or chuckled. "The city of dreamers, more like."

"Tell me kid, what are you doing in Orario? You're obviously not a native, you've got that wide-eyed look that new-blood has." Nov, the Dwarf asked.

Corwyn hummed, "Not really sure, in all honesty. I came here by chance, really. I guess if you want an answer, I'm here to find what I want."

"Good answer. What's your name, kid?" Rinok asked.

"Corwyn Hallows, sir."

"Well, welcome to the Goibniu level two and one smithery. The house of defeated dreamers."

Corwyn smiled, "Well, thanks for having me."

"Haha! Lunch break is over lads, get to work!" Rinok shouted.

"Hooo!" The smiths cheered.