Dwarves and the Workshop (4)
The workshop's exterior could be generously described as a massive digital industrial complex, or less kindly as a jumble of electronics markets crammed together. From the densely packed spaces came a cacophony of diverse, noisy sounds. There were the crisp, explosive clashes of metal on metal, the dull thuds of hammers on wood, and the resonant hum of grinding gems.
Because of it, the kids who had entered grinning ear to ear now plugged their ears and wore sullen expressions. Eileen didn't cover her ears, but the dizzying surroundings made her dizzy; she kept darting her gaze around before grabbing Asha's skirt.
"Ain, workshops are noisier and more chaotic than I thought."
"This whole area's dedicated to making stuff, so it's unavoidable. You'll probably get used to it after a few days."
"Mm, yeah. If you say so, Ain."
At least it was a relief that everyone here was a master craftsman in their field—no aggressive hawking. They were too focused on their work to notice passersby unless they stepped into their shops, at which point they'd give a rough explanation.
They showed zero interest otherwise. So, after wandering the long corridors for a while, I turned to my trailing companions and spoke up.
"Uh... nothing seems dangerous, so you can all go look for what you want. What do you think?"
"But the money's all with you, kid."
"We can just browse today and buy later before we leave, or set a time to meet up again."
Rushing into purchases in one day didn't seem wise anyway. Custom orders could take days, especially if it wasn't off-the-shelf.
Horn nodded at my words and gently placed his hands on the heads of the two kids clutching their ears.
"Then I'll take these runts around. The quack can handle the noble lady."
"Yeah, new carriage and cushy mattress make a good combo."
"My main goal's a billiard table, though."
"...Sigh."
Anyway. Horn grinned and trudged off in another direction with the kids in tow. No matter how you looked at their receding figures—similar heights and all—they didn't quite resemble triplets. I kept that mean thought to myself.
"Th-then I'll go l-look around with Miss Eileen..."
"Mm! I'm checking out noble stuff first!"
"Haha, go ahead. See you later, Ain... Urk...!"
"Hehehe! Let's gooo!!"
Aberly, too, was suddenly yanked away by Eileen, who seemed to have snapped out of her daze, vanishing into the distance. With one word, everyone was gone, leaving just Asha and me.
"Heehee, shall we go too, Ain?"
"Yeah, let's. Anything you want to buy?"
Asha beamed and sidled up, linking her arm with mine. Fresh from a shower at the inn before coming, her sweet scent wafted over.
"Mm... I don't have anything specific in mind, so I'll let you know if I see something I like while browsing."
"Then let's drop off the mana analyzer first and wander."
"Okay, Ain."
Asha nodded and stepped forward. I hesitated, then spoke up.
"...And could you loosen the arm link a bit?"
"Huh...? Why...? Does linking arms with me bother you, Ain...?"
"No, it's not that."
"But... we've done it a lot since we were little."
True, we'd done it often as kids, but things had changed since then. No matter what, having soft, massive sticky rice cake enveloping my entire arm in a tight squeeze was... a bit much for me.
"Let's hold hands instead."
I scratched my head awkwardly and tried redirecting, but...
"I wanna link arms today..."
"...Fine. Can't be helped."
Asha pouted up at me, and I couldn't bring myself to refuse. She'd shift from mature woman to spoiled child in these moments, melting my resolve with that single pout.
So, whatever. I'd just try not to think about it and focus on browsing the workshops.
People strolled along, entering appealing shops to chat with engrossed artisans and inspect wares. We did the same, wandering the endless corridors, but hadn't spotted a suitable place for the mana analyzer yet.
The huge complex was divided by specialties to some extent, but finding one equipped for ancient mana analyzers was tricky.
We just kept glancing around, passing workshops, when Asha's soft voice piped up.
"Ain, should we ask at that smithy-looking place first? If not, they can recommend someone who can."
"Oh... yeah."
"Hee, good idea, right? Pet my head, Ain."
Unlike my aimless gawking, it was a smart, practical suggestion. Mages really needed brains too, huh. Eh, who knows.
I just stroked her head and headed for a nearby smithy.
Anyway. We stepped into one of the smaller workshops. The artisan was hammering red-hot metal from the forge. Sparks flew with each clash. Kaang—kang— The metal slowly took shape amid the ringing. The forge's heat—or the smith's passion—manifested as steaming sweat.
It resembled that first visit to Horn's smithy, save for the plain human elder instead of a dwarf.
I watched the rhythmic hammering in silence, not wanting to interrupt. I'd probably have stood there until it finished if the smith hadn't spoken first.
"Hup! Hoo... What brings you here, hup...!"
Kang—kaang— The hammering continued, but his question slipped through. I'd kept quiet to avoid disturbing him, but it still bugged him, apparently.
I got straight to the point.
"Came to get a broken device fixed."
The steady hammering ended with a long kaaaang— at my words.
"Hoo... Show me the item."
"Here."
I pulled out the ancient mana analyzer and handed it over. He frowned deeply, staring it down, then returned it.
"Hmm... Looks ancient from the engravings and material... Unfortunately, I don't handle magical devices. If it was just bent or damaged, sure, but this is internal. Plus, few artisans can properly work on ancient relics."
As expected, no luck. But he continued helpfully.
"For this, try sectors F, G, and J. Magic enchanters, repair specialists, and antique dealers gather there."
He even answered my unasked questions, bowed slightly, and resumed hammering with kaang—kang—.
"Thanks."
"Yeah, gotta focus now. Hup...!"
I bowed back and left the small smithy.
Back in the corridor, the clear metal clashes continued.
"Nice smith."
"Yeah. Horn's the unfriendly type, though."
Hm? Thinking about it, that young smith in the workshop earlier had sized up my item at a glance. Horn, an ancient dwarf smith who'd lived who-knows-how-long, hadn't said a word.
Was he just lazy?
"...The more I think, the ruder he seems."
"He's kinda cute, though."
"Cute how? Creepy."
Damn old geezer.