What is the deal with Weskalderna? I mean, our protagonists could have been summoned anywhere! The next biggest city of Dunnit Haol is constantly under siege, and they praise the Beloved Developers for it every day. Surely that is where the action is? King Jayne has well over a hundred daughters, and he’s still somehow survived all the trouble they drag him into. He really could use some help! We haven’t even met any non-or-not-entirly-human people! So what makes this particular starting point so special?

  That’s a good point, actually. Why don’t we head into the city and find out?

  Oak and Roy were shopping, as all proper boys do. But it wasn’t going as smoothly as either of them had planned. Don’t be too disappointed. Weskalderna isn’t the easiest place to find what one needs. Or navigate. Or operate in…

  Okay. Fine. You caught me! Weskalderna—my pure, perfect baby—is a flaming, hot, mess! The buildings are jammed up next to each other, and not a single one even has the decency to follow a blueprint. Walls end in odd places, only to stick into roofs, or curve into floors. They jut in and out of the street with overbites you wouldn’t believe. Homes invade other homes. Shops crawl over each other, and don’t get me started on the ‘streets!’

  And that’s the view from the outside. I don’t know if I have the strength to take you through the confusion of the labyrinth hiding in the belly of this mountain of a town.

  I… I have to be honest. I didn’t want to show you earlier because… Well, it’s kinda embarrassing. I love this little place but… It was like Weskalderna had, for its whole life, been drinking milk from an ugly cow. Now, I’m pretty sure your mother tried her darnedest, but she didn’t do this town any favors.

  That was probably why—OUCH! Dude! Okay, okay I’m sorry I didn’t mean that bit about your ma—OOH—she’s the rock of the family, and deserves more respect… Ahem.

  That was probably why Oak and Roy did not find an arsenal waiting for them with open arms; It twas hiding, instead. With the chaos of the architecture, it was so very difficult to parse whether that door led to a shoppe, or this door was the entrance to a home! And with the steady flow of people going about their business, Roy and Oak couldn't linger anywhere long.

  So, Roy took a chance. Pulling his friend by a shoulder, he strode through a door that caught his eye.

  “Thief!” The owner shouted. Oak froze, but the old man scurried over to him with a bowed back. “You’re thieves right? Please tell me it’s true!”

  “Um..” Oak began.

  “—My home is absolutely filled with…” The man glowered. “Things. Take them, take as much as you can—I want it all gone!”

  There was indeed a large assortment of items—organized neatly—on the shelves. Oak wasn’t sure how it was possible, considering that almost every item was unique to some extent. Utensils, mechanical looking thingamadoos, finely made clothing, there was even a plow hanging on the wall, gleaming with oil, and polish.

  It was a thrift shop… of sorts.

  Oak, enchanted, was lured to the apparel . He marveled at the colors, and felt at the stitching with his mouth agape.

  “Pardon,” Roy said, “but you said you wanted us to acquire all this? I don’t believe we could afford more than one or two items.”

  “No!” The man shook his head, and scuttled back to a large rug on the floor, and sat down with a grunt. He picked up a needle and thread, and returned to his work. “Mmph. Keep your coin. Take whatever you like. I need this place to be free, and I can’t do that with things taking up space!” He jabbed a needle at the nearest bucket.

  Oak returned with a silken shirt with a gleam in his eyes.

  “This is amazing. Roy, we need to buy this. As many as we can!”

  “That looks rather flashy. Are there more mundane options?”

  “Ooh, something more debonair then? Great idea, I’ll go look!” Oak dashed away with a childlike grin.

  Roy walked up to a shelf, and picked up a metal stake. He eyed its perfect gleam, as he spoke.

  “Considering your stated predisposition, there’s a reason you don’t just throw all this out. Money isn’t vital, so what is it, if you don’t mind the inquiry?”

  “WHAT!? Of course I wouldn’t throw this all—what are you, a mongrel? No, no, no. There’s nothing worse than tossing a perfectly good thing away, when all it takes is a bit of elbow grease to polish it up. I’d say there’s something wrong with your generation but even that ol’ bag Filmner has that filthy idea stuck in her head too.” This time, he pointed the needle at Roy as he wheezed. “It’s a scourge! A scourge no doubt infecting your minds. Everything has its place.”

  Roy eyed all the miscellaneous things around, then nodded.

  “I understand... Your establishment is rather organized.”

  “IT’S TERRIBLE!” The old man exploded.

  Roy furrowed his brow.

  “I don’t understand anymore.”

  “Every little thing has a place.” He blustered. “Somewhere else!”

  Oak returned with an astonishingly well put-together suit. One that might even fit Roy’s tall frame. Roy took the garments appreciatively, and looked them over.

  “Sorry we didn’t ask,” Oak said, turning to the old man on the rug. “What’s your name?”

  “Doesn’t matter. I’m old now, names don’t have any real bite to them anymore. Those fools who drop by call me Wrinkleigh, and that fits as good as anything else does.” Wrinkleigh pulled a string taught, then bit down on it to hold the tension as he formed a knot. “For every holy Artisan, please tell me you're going to take some of this off my hands?”

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  “Oh, I hope so!” Oak said. “Your clothing is seriously top notch. I honestly haven’t seen anything like it since I visited France. I caught a bit about your conversation—and how is it possible that these are all refurbished? They look brand new!”

  “Phranss must be a pretty backwater place then—Even more-so than Weskalderna, if this is the best you’ve seen. My [Skills] aren’t even up to thirty stars, not that that is any of your business. I just do what I can to get this all out of my hair.”

  “This is low effort?” Oak said incredulously.

  “What are you trying to say!?”

  “Sorry! I meant that as a compliment.”

  “Tch. Hard to tell these days.” Wrinkleigh tied a final knot, then heaved himself off the floor. He waddled over to one of the clothing racks, and sorted through it, looking for the right spot.

  Oak followed him. “You know, Wrinkleigh I think I like you.” He said. “No, no I’m sure I do.”

  “Congratulations.”

  Oak beamed at the man.

  “Great. Another one.”

  “Heh, you must be popular!”

  “Too popular. What’s it gotta take for a creaking rocking chair like me to whittle my last days away in peace? With space!” He turned to Oak with a glare. “What’d you come in here for in the first place? I’m sure it wasn’t to harass the elderly. Though you wouldn’t be the first—nor the last to regret it.”

  “Oh! That’s right. I’m so sorry we totally got sidetracked.” Oak said, and gestured to Roy. “We’ve just started exploring dungeons, and we got our first pay this morning. We’re looking for weapons first and foremost. Armor if you got it, I guess? Roy, is there anything else we need?”

  “We’ll return for more when our budget allows.”

  “Okay. Yeah, so do you have… swords or something?”

  “Adventurers huh? Which one are you?” Wrinkleigh said.

  “Which… one?”

  “Which construction gang. Unless you’re under one of the association’s lot?”

  “We’re ah, new to Weskalderna. So… I don’t think we have a gang? Roy?”

  Roy shook his head and shrugged.

  “Lady Tegan’s our employer.” Roy said.

  “Who?” The old man cocked his head.

  “Tegan Scowle.” Oak said. “She owns the Manor outside the city?”

  “Hmph. I thought that useless place was abandoned. Scowle, you say? Haven’t heard of them since, oh, the flame riots. That was… Hmph, a long time ago. Meddal never came back, and for good reason, too. I was sure he didn’t care for women, and now he has a daughter here to lay a claim?” He scratched at the remains of his silver hair. “Tricky.”

  “I assume because governance has changed?” Roy asked.

  “You’d be right. This place has been going on just fine without a King. For the most part. The construction gangs are always trying to claim that title but it never sticks. Here, hold this,” Wrinkleigh grabbed the bucket off the floor and handed it to Oak. “If your Lady is looking to reclaim the glory days she has an uphill battle in front of her. This place has grown since her father’s time. But…” The old man began pulling things off the shelf, and neatly packing them into the bucket.

  “I don’t know how much she’s going to get involved. Maybe none of this prattling will do anything for you. It might be that you’ll quietly collect resources like the Livers do. Now… Weapons…”

  “What would you recommend?”

  “It depends on what [Skills] you got?”

  “Oh… When I said we were new. Um. Well we’re very new. Roy only just learned [Dodge] two days ago.”

  Wrinkleigh stopped adjusting the knives he put into the bucket, and stared at Oak in surprise.

  “You’re from a DLC? I haven’t met one of you in years!” He gave Oak the stink eye. “Don’t cause trouble you hear?”

  “No. I mean—of course we won’t!”

  “Hmm.” He grumbled. “Not knowing any [Skills] makes this difficult. Anything drawing your eyes so far?”

  Roy spoke up. “Actually, Wrinkleigh sir, I was hoping that you would direct me to something… Typical.”

  “Typical?”

  “What’s the most normal weapon you have? What any usual person would pick up and use to defend themself.”

  “Normal…” Wrinkleigh grumbled to himself. And threaded a rope net into the bucket. “Well, most folk would just pick up whatever’s near them. Why don’t you use—here, catch.”

  Something gleaming arced through the air. Roy caught it, unsurprisingly, and blinked twice. His hand shook for a moment, and unsheathed the weapon just a bit. He stared at the gleam.

  “I grew up using these, are—are you certain they’re normal?”

  “Heh? Of course it is boy, what are you even spouting off about? It’s a sword.”

  Oak hobbled over to Roy to get a good look…

  It was an eepe; Made for striking the entire body when fencing. It was also encrusted with gems, and shone with a ludicrous polish. Yup. A very typical sword found on the battlefield…

  “Don’t forget these. I don’t have a bow lying around but I’m sure you’ll find some use out of these.” He then dumped a pack full of arrows into the bucket. Oak winced, and was barely able to keep it up! Which he’s never had a problem before now, but maybe it was different outside the bedroom.

  Roy pulled out their spending money. “What will this cost?” he asked.

  “I’m glad you stopped by. “ Wrinkleigh said earnestly. “Do come see me again.” He pushed at Oak, urging him towards the door.

  “But we haven’t paid—“

  “It’s not even [Imprinted] so who cares? —Oh how clumsy of me I didn’t ask your names?”

  “But— I’m Oak and this is—”

  “Fascinating. Thank you for stopping by! I’ll see you again later.”

  And then the door opened, and revealed a hulking figure that stepped into ‘not-a-shop’ with an ear splitting grin.

  “Wrinkleigh!” The woman greeted happily. “I have another suit of armor for you.”

  Wrinkleigh instantly scowled.

  “Get out of here! I don’t need any more junk.”

  “But it’s not junk when you’re done with it.”

  “Of course it isn’t! Go on, get!”

  “I brought gold. Come on, take it, and the armor.”

  “No!” Wrinkleigh spat.

  “fifty gold.”

  “Zero.”

  “Forty-five”

  “Ten”

  “Come on Wrinkleigh, it’s a good suit. Forty-two”

  “I don’t want the blasted thing! Thirty! And not a piece more!”

  The woman grinned, then pulled the mangled suit off her back, and set it on the ground. As she counted out gold from their pouch, she eyed Roy and Oak.

  “New customers?”

  “Eh? Oh. New everything. They just got some of this crap to explore dungeons.”

  “Really.” She said. “That’s wonderful news. Hey boys, come to the Red Way tonight. I think we Mallet Sisters have a place for you.”

  “I apologize, but we already have an arrangement--”

  “Of course…” she purred. “No promises, no contracts, but come find us, and see what we have to offer. And before you ask, no, we’re not like the other construction companies.” She grinned sweetly “ You can say no, and we won’t even break your fingers.”