She stared at me and I noticed the blood rushed to her face as she became embarrassed. I was proud of my ability to recognize basic human emotions. This… blushing, I think it was called? Human expressions always looked pink to me. Maybe it was simply because they spent so much of their life being embarrassed.

  Finally, she sputtered out an answer. “I’m sorry, Nico. My father handled all the money. I was never allowed to touch any of it. The one time I tried to make a stack of his copper coins… well, it didn’t end well.”

  I felt the pain of her memories through our connection. The hair on the back my neck stood up and my hands clenched into fists. An image of her sire filled my mind and all I wanted to do was tear him in half.

  She put her hand on my arm and squeezed. “Thank you.”

  Now I was confused. “For what?” The light pressure on my arm made it tingle. I wondered if she hadn’t accidentally squeezed one of those nerve clusters my monk class knowledge said were critical to disable an opponent.

  “I feel what you feel, too, dummy.” Her hand on my arm squeezed down a little tighter.

  My arm tingled, and it felt like a score of scorpions started dancing in my gut. I felt almost uncomfortably warm all of a sudden. If I didn’t feel that surge of tangled emotions across our connection and know beyond a shadow of a doubt that she meant me the exact opposite of ill will, I’d have thought I was being attacked.

  “I’m glad you care,” Cami continued. “I know you try to hide it, but I feel it across our connection. My life was… what it was.” She squared her shoulder, chin held high. “I want to think about the future.”

  “Your sire should just be grateful that he’s not here in front of me,” I growled.

  She giggled as we walked back out into the market, complete with several new bags of equipment. Before, I hadn’t appreciated it quite so much, but that moment of anger and her bad memory seemed to have bonded us even more closely. There were no notifications of DKPs or other perks, though—it was just a feeling. Oddly enough, I was okay with that.

  At the moment, I appreciated the world in a new way. The warm morning air of the open-air market felt good on my soft human skin. Everywhere you looked, there were vendors selling all kinds of goods, from exotic spices to colorful clothes. Some carts were interspersed amongst more permanent stores, and more than once I saw a shop keeper yell at a cart owner to move their ‘trash heap.’

  The smells of freshly cooked food wafted up from makeshift stands dotted throughout the area and music filled the air from a pair of musicians playing nearby.

  I nodded to two people with instruments in their hands and asked Cami, “What are those two doing?”

  “Playing music, silly.” She seemed confused by my question.

  I growled a bit at being called silly again. I knew she didn’t mean it in a bad way because she was smiling—well, that… and I felt nothing but an oddly warm emotion coming from her across our connection.

  She shook her head. “Sorry, I’m not making fun of you. I just forget sometimes that as lost as I am, this is even more of a new experience for you.”

  “Why would you be lost?” I frowned. “Aren’t these humans just like you?”

  She grinned. “Yes, of course, but humans are different all over. The people in a city like this live very differently than those in Cloverdale, where I was from. And even there, the townsfolk lived differently than I did on the farm.”

  “So it’s almost like they’re a different breed of humans? Sort of like how reds are lazy, greens are conniving, whites are stupid with their frozen brains, and blues are the most noble of all dragons?”

  She put her hand to her mouth, like she was holding something inside. It took her a moment before she could answer, but she finally nodded. “I suppose you could say it is something like that.”

  I shrugged. “Okay. It seems we’ll just have to learn about this city together, then. I’d thought you’d know more about coins and things like that, though.”

  Cami bumped my arm with her shoulder. I guess she couldn’t help it that her agility was so low it made her a bit clumsy.

  She glared up at me. “Well, I do know that one hundred coppers equal a silver, and one hundred silvers equal a gold. My da used to say that a silver was worth a full day of labor from a skilled craftsman. Of course, he was always complaining about how little farming paid, so I can’t say for sure if that is accurate or just him pressing sour grapes.”

  We were just talking about coins and money. And I thought her sire raised tasty cattle, not grapes. How did wine making fit into this?

  After enjoying ourselves for what felt like hours, I realized it was time for us to get serious about finding some armor or weapons before we needed to return to the inn. The sun was already well on its way to evening and soon the light would begin to fade.

  A couple of the weapons shops we tried to enter said they only accepted customers from established houses. When Cami showed her coin purse to one of those shops, they accused her of being a thief and threatened to call the town guard. I started to tell them to call those weaklings, but Cami cut me off.

  Once we were back outside, she explained, “Humans don’t fight over everything. Sometimes you just have to move on and find another way.”

  I nodded. I wanted to learn about them, but human ways were stupid. Dragons simply fought and got it out of the way—which made life far simpler. Maybe these humans just needed me to teach them a better way. I’d have to think on that for a bit.

  Eventually, we stumbled across an older man working in a forge near the far side of the market. His shop was mostly open to the air, and he was working his craft right out in front of anyone who wanted to watch. He was shorter and stockier than most humans I’d seen, and his arms were very thick.

  My first thought was that he must be a dwarf, but as I looked through the memories of the dragon dream regarding that treacherous race, I found he was too tall and too narrow to be a dwarf.

  I still whispered to Cami, “Is that a dwarf?”

  The clanging of his hammer against metal stopped, and the man called out, “Come and say that to my face.”

  I was baffled, as I couldn’t see how he could have heard me, yet thrilled by the idea of confrontation.

  Cami placed her hand on my chest as she started to apologize, “My friend doesn’t mean anything by it. We’ve never been to a city this size.”

  The smith broke out into a wide grin. “Ah, I was just playing with ya. Ya need anything?”

  Cami and I walked right up to his anvil while I looked around. He had everything from daggers to battle axes to spears on the wall behind him. I was hardly an expert in human weapons, but I recognized quality when I saw it. It was just one of those dragon things—we know well worked metal when we see it.

  I cast Identify on a spear.

  Masterwork Cold Steel Spear

  Weight: 4 lbs.

  Damage: 1-10 + 3 piercing

  Enhancements:

  Additional damage against summoned beings + 2-8 piercing.

  Durability +100%

  Sharpness +50%

  Increased Critical Strike +5%

  This was definitely one of those moments to make use of our bond. I pushed my thoughts towards Cami, “That spear is much higher quality than what I’ve seen around here… higher than anything but what the adventurers are carrying.”

  “Oh? Why is his shop so poor compared to the others, then?”

  I didn’t know the answer and, if I’d been a human, I likely would have found some way to subtly engage the smith in conversation till I drew out his secrets. Dragons could be quite clever when they need to be, but it just felt like a waste of time.

  I’d played nice this trip—well, at least since I’d stolen the meat pie. Now was the time for a more direct approach. I was beginning to think that his appearance wasn’t a random chance. Perhaps he had more in common with dirty dwarves than he cared to openly admit.

  I walked right up till I loomed over the stocky man. To his credit, he didn’t back down. I glared at him and tried to push out an intimidating aura. Suddenly, to my surprise, I got a notification.

  You are attempting to exude Dragon Fear while not in your natural form.

  Do you wish to buy this ability?

  Cost: 1 DKP.

  Note: When not in dragon form, your fear aura will be directed in a 120 degree arc in the direction you are facing, with a 15 foot maximum range. The effect will only be 75% of your base Dragon Fear. This ability may be upgraded.

  Without a second thought, I spent the DKP I’d received from Cami upgrading our bond. It felt like a piece of me slid back into place, sort of like a joint had been out of its socket and then popped back in. The effect was immediate as his eyes widened and he stumbled backwards.

  “What are you?” he gasped.

  I followed him, stalking forward at the pace he was stumbling backwards. I never closed the distance between us to less than an arm’s length, but I also didn’t let him get out of range of my aura.

  “I’m someone looking to find good quality weapons and armor for a bargain. I think there’s more to you than you’re letting on. I should probably ask you this in a polite manner, but a day of being nice has left a bad taste in my mouth.”

  Instinctively, I flashed my teeth at him before realizing it would have been far more intimidating in my dragon form. “Speak up before I grow tired of this conversation. Start with how you heard me whisper to my friend from fifteen feet away, even as you were hammering a piece of steel.”

  He wrung his hands and shivered, but I could see him starting to shake off the effect. “You’re a mage, aren’t you?”

  “What makes you say that?” Now I was curious.

  “I haven’t been an adventurer for near forty years, but I still know what a debuff notification looks like. Can’t say as I’ve ever seen that one before… but it must be some kind of fear or intimidation effect. Pretty strong, too, because I’m no wilting flower.”

  He was definitely regaining his composure, but then his eyes shot open so wide that they might as well have been those saucers I’d seen Serius and Lisella using with tiny cups of tea.

  “Dragon fear?! … how is that possible? That’s some kinda crazy spell.”

  I grinned. If there was one thing I felt comfortable with, it was a little intimidation. “That should convince you that I’m no one to be trifled with.”

  “Fine, it’s just a skill I picked up back when I was an adventurer. That was before I became a smith and gave up that crazy life of danger. The imperial city didn’t mind my heritage—much—but then, I… uhh… well let’s just say that I made a certain noble woman’s husband angry and it seemed like a change of scenery would be for the best. If I’d known what a crap hole Taleia was, I never would have come here.”

  “What, because they don’t like your dwarven heritage?” I asked.

  He nodded while looking at the floor. “The gods blighted, narrow-minded iggets wouldn’t know quality if it smacked ‘em between their beady little eyes. The guild leaders were all jealous of my skill, and so won’t issue me a license as an official blacksmith. I had to use all my savings just to build this little place, and now I barely break even when an out of towner buys some of my stuff.”

  “Iggets?” I asked, the confusion clear in my voice.

  He laughed then and I knew the effect of my fear had faded, though it had done its job.

  “Yeah, half idiot, half widget. It’s a word of me own making and if you don’t like it, then you can stuff it up yer arse.”

  I was about to step into his face again when Cami said, “I think we got off on the wrong foot, kind smith. I’m Cami, and my friend here is Nico. We’re students on our way to the Imperial University in Urgoi. We came out shopping to buy some better gear, as we’ve found the road to be rather dangerous.”

  “Well, you won’t find any better gear in this town, but I don’t know that you can afford my prices. I can’t just go giving this stuff away.”

  A large grin stole across my face as an idea occurred to me. “Maybe we can work something out.”

  Chapter 32 - Unlikely Alliances

  The demi-dwarf stared at me, thoughtfully stroking his beard. “The names Daggin, lad. My grandpappy’s people had a saying about ‘never make a deal with a dragon,’ but I suppose I can manage a deal with two student mages.”

  There was something about making a deal which got my blood pumping. I looked to Cami, “Are you up for this?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

  “Just trust me, then.” The expression on her face was a little odd, but our bond assured me that she was willing to give me some room to work.

  I looked back at Daggin. “I need to know a few things before I make my proposal.”

  When the demi-dwarf didn’t respond, I continued. “What makes cold steel different from ordinary steel?”

  “What do I look like,” he demanded, “some professor at yer fancy university? Now ya be wantin’ a lesson on metallurgy?”

  “No, just a simple question to make sure I’ve got it right.”

  He shook his head in clear annoyance, but something about the situation had him more curious than annoyed. “Cold steel is just the term we have for a different type of metal we find. Steel is actually made from iron, but to simplify things, we have to add coal to it and properly treat the metal. Cold steel, on the other hand, comes out of the ground as an altogether different ore. The biggest problem with it is the same as with mithril, elementium, adamantium, or any of the other rare ores.”

  I nodded. “Purity.”

  He squinted up at me. “Okay, so maybe you aren’t just some cocky student who thinks their special cause they're going to a university.”

  “Haven’t been there yet, but I do know a thing or two about metal. It is just knowledge, though, not any actual experience working with it. But if purity is the problem, then I think I have a solution.”

  “Well, don’t leave me hanging,” Daggin said. “I’m all ears.”

  I blinked twice. His expression caught me off guard. What was left hanging? And his ears were actually rather on the small side. But then I realized it must just be something that humans say.

  “It will be easier to show you than to tell you. Do you have any cold steel ore I can work with?”

  “I’m not about to let you touch any of the good stuff,” Daggin grumbled, “but I have some cast offs from the smelter which I wasn’t able to use. The process only recovers about ninety percent of the cold steel, and the rest of it is just too contaminated with other materials.”

  “Great, show me your cast offs, then.”

  He nodded and led me around to the back of his small shop, grumbling the entire time. He pointed at a large barrel that was filled nearly waist high with metal and rock. It had obviously been heated and then allowed to solidify again.

  “When I came here,” he explained, “I had an entire wagon full of ore. Now, I’ve used most of it up trying to make a name for myself. Pretty much all I have left to work with these days is regular iron. Ain’t good for much, really, other than mundane items or weapons for the town guard.”

  He glared at the distant city wall and spit to the side. “As if they’d buy from an unlicensed black-smith.”

  I ignored him. Like all humans, demi-dwarf or not, he talked too much. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that all those words were crammed into their tiny heads and had to escape before the pressure got too great. I smiled at the idea of their heads just randomly exploding.

  I thought about how much more Lisella spoke than some of the others and wondered if the length of their hair had something to do with it. She could talk more than anyone I’d ever met. Thinking back on it, I realized that human females spoke at least two orders of magnitude more than their male counterparts. Then again, my experience with different humans was fairly limited.

  I put my hand on the barrel of smelted waste product and willed this to work as I intended. As I cast Fabricate, I pictured ingots of pure cold steel. The spell seemed to struggle for a moment, but I didn’t relent. My will was firm, and I forced the magic to siphon the remains of cold steel—and only cold steel—out of the barrel.

  Little by little, the particles of cold steel pulled themselves out from the tailings and dross. Fabricate could make just about anything I could imagine—as long as it was non-organic and within the size constraints of the spell. This shouldn’t be any different. It was just that I was trying to force absolute purity.

  One ingot formed in the air before falling to the ground.

  Daggin muttered into his beard, “Holy Hepha, goddess of crafts.”