The one copper armory

We found him leaning against a barrel near the back exit of the guildhall, chewing on a stalk of some suspiciously glowing herb like it was a toothpick.

He had a wild beard, eyes that sparkled with old mischief, and a cloak made entirely out of stitched-together mushroom caps.

“I’m guessing you’re… Old Man Velo?” I asked cautiously.

“That’s what they call me,” he said, not looking up. “But the mushrooms call me ‘The Collector.’”

Lyssa raised an eyebrow. “They… talk to you?”

“Oh no, not in words,” he said cheerfully. “But when you’ve been in Greystone Forest long enough, you learn to read the spore vibrations. Fungi gossip. Especially about adventurers who step on ‘em.”

I took a careful step back.

“Anyway,” he added, finally glancing at us. “You’re the ones assigned to my quest?”

I nodded. “Ren. This is Lyssa, and the tiny one is Luffy. He’s my familiar.”

Velo squinted at Luffy, who let out a bark and proudly struck a pose from my hoodie pouch. “A Shih Tzu, huh? Haven’t seen one of those since the Mushroom War of ’72.”

“…There was a war?” Lyssa asked, confused.

“In my dreams, yes.”

I was about to turn and leave when Velo took a slow, long breath—his smile fading for the first time.

Then he said something that made my skin crawl.

“You’re not normal,” he muttered.

I froze. “Excuse me?”

He stepped forward, the weird smile gone. “There’s something ancient wrapped around your spirit. Something bonded. Tied by soulthread. Dormant, but there.”

My hands clenched instinctively.

“And the dog,” he added, bending toward Luffy. “He’s not what he seems either. Not entirely.”

Luffy tilted his head like he understood.

Lyssa quickly stepped between us. “Okay! Thank you, sir! We’ll get those mushrooms for you before sunset. Right, Ren?”

“…Right.”

He chuckled and waved us off. “Just don’t die in the forest. It has a taste for rare things.”

I didn’t know whether that was advice or a warning.

Maybe both

If embarrassment could be weaponized, I’d be overpowered by now.

We walked into the blacksmith’s forge looking like a trio of broke lunatics. The place was warm—oppressively so. It smelled like sweat, metal, and the distinct aroma of bacon that had been left on the pan way too long. A hammer pounded rhythmically somewhere in the back, and every clang reminded me that we were out of our league.

Weapons hung along the walls like trophies—swords, spears, axes, all way too shiny, sharp, and confidence-inspiring. A few even glowed faintly, which I assumed meant “expensive” or “touch this and die.”

I gripped my last copper coin like it was a sacred relic. My wallet was lighter than my self-esteem.

“This is dumb,” I muttered.

Luffy barked and pranced ahead like he owned the place.

“I don’t even know why we’re here,” I continued. “You think this guy’s gonna trade us something for a coin and divine slippers?”

Lyssa held up her foot proudly. “They’re shock-absorbent, temperature-controlled, and probably older than your mortal calendar. Divine tech is underrated.”

“No, they’re fuzzy and smell like ramen and NEET”

“Ramen is a sacred scent.”

The forge master stood behind the counter—broad-shouldered, arms like tree trunks, wearing a red bandana and a beard that looked like it had forged its own identity over years of war and whiskey. His face was resting in the default expression of I’ve seen too much to care.

Then he saw Luffy.

“…Huh,” he grunted, squinting. “That a divine rat or some kind of bearded ferret?”

I sighed. “He’s a dog. And my familiar.”

The man leaned on the counter and stared. “Tracker? Healer? Explodes when mad, what’s his specialty?”

“…Fluffiness.”

A long silence.

“Useful,” he said flatly.

“Thanks,” I replied with equal deadpan.

The Copper Transaction

“So,” he said, finally, “you broke?”

I held up the coin. “Flatter than a dragon’s belly after a feast.”

Lyssa stepped up, suddenly radiant. She threw her hair over her shoulder like some kind of discount goddess-influencer and smiled.

“I happen to be a temporarily demoted divine being. You could consider this an… investment in cosmic karma. Maybe you could lend us some weapons?”

He looked her up and down. “That why you’re wearing pajamas and slippers in a weapons forge?”

“These are battle-ready slippers, thank you very much.”

Luffy hopped up, placing his tiny paws on the counter. The blacksmith blinked, mildly amused.

“…Your dog’s got more confidence than you do.”

“Yeah,” I muttered. “He always does.”

The blacksmith exhaled heavily through his nose. “Alright. I’m not enchanted charity. But you? You look like you need something light. Something you won’t drop the second a goblin sneezes.”

He disappeared behind the counter and rummaged for a moment. Something clanked. Then thunked. Then hissed?

Finally, he emerged with a short sword that looked like it had seen the rise and fall of at least three empires.

“This here’s steel,” he said. “Rusty, dull around the tip, and probably cursed with mediocrity—but it’ll hold an edge long enough to stab something small and mean.”

I took it carefully, like it was fragile despite looking like it could survive a meteor impact. “It’s… perfect.”

He turned to Lyssa next. “And for you, goddess of bad decisions…”

She perked up.

He handed her a thin staff with a chipped crystal orb on top. “No magic left in the core. But people might think it’s got power, and that’s worth something. You’ve got the look. Just wave it around and pretend to know some enchantments or spells, for now that’ll work good enough”

Lyssa twirled it experimentally. “Is this a walking stick or a wizard’s retirement plan?”

“Depends how hard you swing it.”

She grinned. “Oh, I like you.”

The man grunted. “Good. Take ’em. Just don’t die. Too many greenhorns bleed out before breakfast. Pay me back when you can.”

“Wait… seriously?” I blinked. “You’d just… give these to us?”

“Call it a hunch,” he said. “Also, I’ve got bills, and you smell like disappointment. I need someone to succeed in this dump.”

Outfitted and Broke

We left the forge a little more equipped and a little less hopeless.

The sword felt heavier than I expected—but good. Like I’d finally been given permission to try. Lyssa walked ahead, spinning her staff with enough flair to get glares from random villagers. Luffy, now re-positioned back into my hoodie pouch, peeked his head out like a battle chihuahua.

“So… we’ve got a sword, a staff, and a dog,” I said. “Almost a real party now.”

“Minus gear, gold, skills, common sense, and basic hygiene,” Lyssa added.

“We’ll get there.”

“Not if the Greystone Squirrels get us first.”

I stopped. “Okay. Are we… still joking about those?”

“Ren. The receptionist smiled when she mentioned them. No one smiles like that unless the thing you’re about to meet is a horror movie mascot.”

Luffy barked excitedly. He either didn’t care or was blissfully unaware of our chances of being mauled by woodland rodents.

I glanced at my sword. No enchantments. No buffs. Just steel and rust.

Still… it was something.

Greystone Forest Awaits

The village of Elderglen faded behind us as we followed the dirt path into the woods.

Greystone Forest loomed like a forgotten myth. The trees were tall and gnarled, their branches twisting like skeletal fingers overhead. Mushrooms the size of dinner plates clung to roots and tree trunks. The deeper we walked, the more the air felt still—like the forest was watching.

Our quest was simple on paper: find Old Man Velo, help him gather mushrooms, get five copper, and hopefully not die.

Too bad nothing ever goes that smooth.

I could already hear faint rustling in the brush.

Lyssa held her staff like a weapon of fate. I had my sword. Luffy had… fluff.

We stepped into the shadow of the forest, where the light dimmed and the trees whispered stories older than the kingdom we’d been kicked out of.

“Big dreams,” I said quietly.

Lyssa smirked. “Even bigger squirrels.”

And with that, our first adventure truly began.