The day I met her was a normal day, for the most part.
I walked out of my wooden, two room home. It was built on a small hill and had been expanded at some point when the previous owners wanted privacy from their children. Because the expansion was unplanned, they had just built a small set of stairs that cut off the living room from a small, cramped bedroom, barely big enough for the bed I kept there.
I walked outside and started down the compacted dirt road. I passed through town on my way. Homes and the storefronts were built far apart, so that the farmers could get their carts through easily. Almost all of the buildings were wooden, like my house. Settlers had carved out a small portion of a forest well south of the capitol a few generations ago and widely, we were left alone.
A middle-aged woman named Ruth with salt-and-pepper hair greeted me as I walked past her, as she was setting up a small stand for the vegetables her husband had grown. They were just giving them away, as they had too many. I smiled to myself, knowing that most of them wouldn't get eaten. I passed a portly, balding man; Bill was the tavern keeper and he nodded to me, looking tired. It was one of the few buildings that was made of any stone at all. It had a cobblestone foundation, because it had burnt down a decade or so back. Bill had wanted to make the entire thing out of stone, but there wasn't a good quarry nearby and he couldn't afford to go to the capitol to petition anyone for help.
I passed a few small houses and the Church of Pelor. I didn't attend myself, except during holidays; even then, that was mostly for the feast. Sister Lily, a young redheaded woman smiled and waved at me. She was pretty and most of the men and a couple of women were upset when she took the vows of celibacy, which weren't strictly necessary, as I understood it. Truth be told, I think she just wanted them to stop chasing her around. I waved back and she started gathering the children for her lessons. It was thanks to the church that everyone in the village was literate.
Daniel was talking to his wife, grinning at her like a madman. He was a thick, tall man, with a bushy black beard, just starting to get its gray. His cackling wife was tall and lanky, almost matching his height. Trying to catch her breath from whatever absurd joke he had just told, she hung off of him. It was hard not to smile at them. Behind him was his purely stone building. The only thing made of wood was the sign hanging over the door and the door itself. He was the village's weaponsmith. Folk could make their own bows and arrows, but he specialized in anything more complicated than that. He made a decent enough living off it. Adventurers would come, buying and selling anything not nailed down. He nodded to me and I returned it. Occasionally, some of the youth saved up whatever they could and bought some of what he had available to go on adventuring themselves. Most of them came back a few months later. They were generally the lucky ones.
Walking down the road, I passed a dark skinned man wearing a gray long sleeve tunic in the middle of the summer's heat. He was driving a cart with a large horse. I smiled up at him, He slowed to a stop when I called up to him, "Ahmed! It's good to see you."
"Johann, my friend." His face broke into a broad smile. " It has been too long."
"Yeah, it has. Are you just getting in?" I asked, peering past him to his cart, trying to gauge what all he had. Everything was wrapped up and tied down.
"Yes. I'm planning on setting up outside of Bill's." He said, gesturing to his bundled wares behind him.
"Good. Did you get any books?" I asked, eagerly.
"Of course, my friend." His smile returned even wider this time. I'd spent most of any extra funds I had on whatever books any merchants brought through. He continued. " I knew I was coming to this part of the world. How is your library coming? Surely it must rival that of Bayfield."
"Maybe. They couldn't have more than ten books in the city, could they?" I asked, grinning back at him.
"Come to the inn tonight. I'll save them for you, my friend." I stepped out of the way as he ushered his horse forward.
At the edge of town, I finally arrived at the second and last fully stone building in the village. Like Daniel's weapon smithy, this was also a forge. Abovehead was a sign with a pot and fork painted on it. James' smithy was cluttered and small, but I knew where everything was. It smelled of coal and was warm until I got to work, then it became sweltering.
Work was slow, but I managed to get a few projects done. The Jenkins came in and asked me to make some new horseshoes for them. The Stephansons came back and complained about the nails they had bought. When I asked them to show me the nails, they refused, but that's normal for Skyler and his brother. Just trying to get a little more for nothing.
Stella came by again to visit her husband's old forge. She was an older woman with steel gray hair and had been a little portly even just last year. But she'd thinned out a lot since James' passing. The older woman cried and I held her for a while. She thanked me afterwards. Thanked me for making sure her husband's forge got used. I gave her a sack of coins, half my earnings for the week.
"Oh, Johann, I can't accept this." The woman who had spent the last ten years bringing in lunches for me and her husband insisted, trying to push the coins back. I put my hand in the way.
"Stella, it's a rental fee," I countered. She frowned at the sack. It wasn't even a lot of coins. The whole of it wouldn't even equal half a gold. And I knew she'd need it. "Business is good. And there wouldn't be any business if you didn't let me use James' Forge."
"I'm just glad it's still getting used." She paused for a moment. "Hearing the hammer... It's almost like he's still here." After another moment she took the bag of coins and tied it to her belt. "I'll bring some food next week. To... to earn this."
"Like I said, a rental fee." I shrugged, noncommittally.
"Of course, Johann," she replied indulgently. "But you need some home cooked meals."
"I cook for myself every night," I mumbled a little defensively.
"You do, but until you find yourself a wife, it won't hurt for me to cook for you." I shifted a little bit, before shaking my head. I'd had a few dalliances with a merchant's daughter or barmaid here and there, but none of them felt right. And at this point, I was in my thirtieth year and had mostly reconciled my bachelorhood. There just weren't a lot of options here who could hold my interest. Stella'd always lamented this, figuring I needed to settle down. So, I decided to change the subject before the conversation went to its inevitable conclusion.
"Alright, alright," I replied, putting on a smile. " I'm smart enough to know when I can't talk a tough customer out of their ridiculous ideas."
"James taught you well," she replied easily, returning my smile, hers a little sadder than mine. She left a little after that, the coins clinking merrily to her steps.
Today was a good day, I thought as I started to close the door to the forge. Just as I was getting ready to walk out the door and lock up, someone wearing a dark, heavy cloak walked past the threshold and peered around.
"Excuse me, sir. I'm closing shop now. I need you to leave." The figure in the cloak walked around to one of the pieces I had been working on. It was a butter knife. A part of a set I had been working on. I walked up to the man and gripped the cloak where his shoulder was and pulled them around. "I told you, I'm clos-"
I cut off. It was not a man standing in front of me, but a woman. She had large, bright green eyes and a pale face. She was about my height, which was to say, not all that tall. She looked at me defiantly, almost daring me to continue.
"Oh. I'm sorry, ma'am." I said sheepishly. "I didn't realize. But you still need to le-"
"I need a sword," She interrupted me. Her voice was calm, but final. She left no room for argument.
"Um, well... I don't make swords," I replied, trying to get my footing back. Occasionally, mostly adventurers, would come around and demand something like this from me. She didn't respond immediately, so I filled the silence a little more, speaking too quickly. "Terribly sorry about that. You can always get a sword from Daniel. He's a weapon-smith down the road. Does good work." Even as I finished the last sentence, she was shaking her head.
"No, it can't be him." She met my eyes again and spoke directly, pointing at me with a thin finger, its nail painted in a deep, rich purple. "You. You will make me a sword."
"Lady, I can't!" I protested. "I make tools. Scythes and pitchforks and forks and meat knives. I don't know how to make a sword. If Daniel can't make you one, maybe you can buy from a merchant. I think the one that is staying at the inn has so-"
"No," She said, shaking her head again, her slender finger poking me in the chest. "It will be you. You will make me a sword."
"And why would I do that?" I wasn't able to keep the heat out of my voice. I didn't care to yell at most customers, but this was a little different. My voice raised, as I continued on. "You burst into my shop at the end of the day and demand I do something that I don't know how to do! I don't think I take kindly to you or your demand."
"You'll do it because I need it done and I will pay you well enough." She stalked past me. "I'll be back to check on your progress."
I watched her walk out of my shop. After the door closed, I muttered to myself, "I need a drink."
