Very toy-friendly marketing.

"I can't believe Misses Hush would let her come... It almost makes me hope Pops doesn't let me go so she'll stay put."

These were the words Ashes whispered to me once we were alone at the Inn; the others having gone to find a table.

Confused, as per usual, I asked. "Why wouldn't you want your friend with you?"

The antsy Artisan wiggles back and forth, finding her words, then saying. "Zana has a... condition. It's why she's so scared all the time; scared of it acting up. I guess if Misses Hush thinks she's well enough for travel, than it must have gotten better recently... but still."

"An illness perhaps? Prehaps Cilla would know of a curative we could use." Logic suggests.

Urge rebukes Logic, saying. "You heard Madness; it's probably something mental..."

I don't trust Madness right now. Sidenote, where the hell have you two been, by the way?! Madness was running amok up here in our skull, whispering sweet nothings to me, and you two were mostly silent. As for Zana, whatever is going on with her appears physical to me, since she seem to not eat well.

"Hey, Ashes is staring." Urge points out.

"She'll have you watching her. She'll be fine." I say off-handedly, trying to get back in my head to figure out what the hell is going on.

Logic tries to ease me. "It's nothing, Monster. We are just sorting through the old memories, seeing what is safe to pull from, as it might help us find Her."

Ashes, meanwhile, seems to be thinking on my words, as the other three members of our misfit gang return, bringing us to seats in the corner of the bottom floor of the Inn. I see Soot sitting there as well; someone I'll need to describe so Logic doesn't start whining.

"Hey!" Aforementioned whiner whines in a whiny whine.

Soot is a pale, dark haired, green eyed young man. His height is slightly shorter than even Cilla, but his build is wider and even more built than Slag; prehaps he's half dwarf? On his face is what I can only describe as an 'Asshole Beard', which is trimmed short and thin, outlining his jawline, and wraps up around his mouth; on second thought, he might not be part dwarf, that beard is an embarresment. Despite his cursed facial hair, I'd say he's decently good looking. His civilian clothes seemed to be exactly the same as Slag and Ashes; which suggests to me that this grey attire is a form of offduty 'Uniform' to differentiate between untrained civilians, and offduty trained warriors, in the case of an emergency or invasion.

I take a seat next to Cilla at the corner of the table, next to the wall. I begin picking through those diagrams again; still trying to decide between the two variants of the hooks.

Soot, watching me, asking. "Oh, Ashes Pops is making you something?"

I nod; damn it! I was trying to stop doing that.

Popping up from his seat, the stout man walks to my back, peaking between my and Cilla's shoulders.

He says. "I'd go with the bulkier one if I were you. Your build is more suited to that kind of 'brute ****' weapon. I should know, I'm the same way."

While going back to his seat, I question him, saying. "But I'm an Assassin Class, shouldn't that mean a more nimble weapon makes more sense?"

Shaking his head, Soot says. "Class doesn't work like that. Imagine a tiny gnome whose born a Barbarian. Do you think that little fella is going to start swinging about a full sized battleaxe? No, he's gonna go get a mace, and use it like a warhammer. Whatever you are, you've got massive muscles on yah. Yokong style weapons like that are human sized, delicate, and meant to be used carefully. You'd break that thing if you swung it at monster with a thick hide, or armor; hell, they might have both! The big, thick hook with the meaty shortsword look like they can actually handle your strength; what with essentially being slabs of metal."

"I have to agree with his summary." Cilla adds. "You won't be able to get much in the way of proper training with a more elegant, skill based weapon in the short time we're staying here. Better to go for the brutish, easier to use, forceful kind instead."

I soak on the input, looking to the others who hadn't spoken to see if they had any input.

Ashes, seeing this, decides to speak up, saying. "To be honest, I think my Pops might be testing you. Seeing if you'll pick the one that'll actually fit you, which in my opinion as an Artisan, is the original design."

I nod; abandoning all pretense of being able to stop doing so, saying "Ok. The original it is... now all I need to how to practice with it..."

Ashes responds to my last comment, saying. "Oh, Popa has an old guide or manual on just about any weapon he makes. I've read the ones on those hooks; apparently they became really popular with martial artists and eccentrics after their first deployment by the Dark. Usually happens with weird weapons like that; and those guys tend to write their findings on how to use their wacky weapons. After all, there's always been lots of money to be made in teaching people how to fight properly."

Makes sense enough, I suppose. A world with a never-ending war probably would value know-how on making war with anything at their disposal.

The group then starts conversing between each other once we order some food, with me remaining silent; simply listening and trying to soak in information. I make a few observations that could be useful later while everyone is chatting it up; doing so out of both boredom, and as practice for when such observations may be useful for any coming conflicts.

Firstly, I notice that Soot; who is sitting at the corner of the table closest to the front door, keeps darting his eyes, seemingly by instinct, towards the nearby windows and what looks like a back exit. I take this to mean that, like myself, his class must be Assassin; that, or is he expecting trouble of some sort? As well, I get confirmation from a conversation about his homelife with Ashes that he is indeed half human, half dwarf; his mother being the dwarf, and his father being the human.

Gabriella appears to be left handed; information that is of little use to me now, but may be useful at some point. During the talk of home life between Ashes and Soot, she seemed to zone out entirely; now that I think of it, I've never heard of Her and Ariel's parents.

Zana offered to pay for the food we had ordered, meaning poverty Induced malnutrition wasn't the cause of her smaller frame; in fact, she ate more than anyone else. Maybe it's an overactive metabolism, due to her 'condition', whatever that may be?

With Ashes, I had learned of her Mother being an Artisan of some sort as well, but there were little to no details beyond that. She spoke of her mother in high regard though, much like her how she speaks of her father.

Speaking of, Cilla subtly flinches whenever the word 'Father' is used; further confirming to me that I had assumed correctly; it must be that Maxwell, or at least, whatever he had become.

Quicker than I thought, Night falls over Saltmoore, and we say farewell to Soot as he heads off, presumably towards his home. As well, Zana returns to the library. While we return to Ashes house, I hear the distinct ringing of a hammer on hot metal. Once we reach the workshop, I see Pyre, making the chains of the hook; the part that was the same between both designs.

"So, what have you chosen." The old man asks coyly. "The right one, or the wrong one?"

Ashes was right then, a test; I answer. "The original."

"The right one, then. I've got it mostly ready. I'll have finished it by morning." He says; standing up to walk over to a table, which seems to have a cup of tea; away from the heat of the forge.

Ashes groans. "The morning? So, I'll be making supper."

"Not quite!" Pyre replies. "We have another guest, the one who made me this fine cup of tea. He'll be using the one last guest room."

Another guest? I have a bad feeling about this...

"Five... Five... Five..." It says from the cage, rattling the bars in my mind.

We walk up the stairs, and open the door to the second floor, as I turn the corner into the main room; I see him; different than before, but there's no mistaking that sinister smile.

"Hello, Old Chum..."

The new, yet familiar voice of Sarmenti Hoffman greets us home.