With his recent promotion to being a C-rank wizard, Seika was finding himself swamped with a bit more work than usual fare. This wasn't to say he was complaining about the influx of jobs that were coming his way, nor was it to say that the quality of the jobs were waning, but... and there was always a but, he missed finding the random requests. The few he had done in Baska were a refreshing change of pace from his usual fare of meeting some shady dude and doing something even shadier. Man, maybe being in Oak for this long was getting to him.

Shaking his head of idle thoughts, he moved to the quest board. Glancing over the few quests there, he was almost discouraged by the severe lack of quests slated towards Light Guilds that were within his rank range. He actively ignored the fact that was in an area ran by a Dark Guild, such a fact not meaning much to him since Dark Guilds weren't supported by Era and thus weren't to be acknowledged by him. Frowning however, he noticed one quest that was stitched to the board that he could see, half way covered by another quest that was asking for someone to stitch their neighbor's cat up by the balls.

Plucking the parchment from the wall, he read over the request quickly, frowning a bit but accepting the fact that this was indeed the best he was going to get in this location before pocketing the piece of paper. Turning and heading towards the trade district, he began his search of the local blacksmith, one 'Old Man Rander' as it were. Locating the man's shop off the edge of the main street, he would step inside to greet the old geezer, eager to get this job over with already.

311/1000

Old man Rander's shop wasn't too hard to find in the grand scheme of things. A paltry shop just off the main avenue with a smithy sign over head and a steady plume of smoke being belched into the sky. A forgery was definitely one of the few locations Seika actually found comfort in visiting, the constant heat and the sound of fire warming his soul with memories of Great Sol. He would inquire with the older gentlemen about his request, the old geezer wheezing on and on about some vandals and the fact that he was definitely too old for this shit. Face as impassive as ever, Seika gently nudged the elder man into finally getting on with why he was asked to come here today before finally being informed that the old man would be leaving the shop so that he could attend a drinking contest. Frowning at the thought of the gentleman indulging in such hedonistic rituals, the young man nevertheless agreed to his request. Feeling his shop was in good hands, the old giant lumbered out of his shop with little fanfare after that, leaving Seika alone to watch the shop.

The first few hours were quite quiet fi you asked him. Aside from a few passerby's who had peeked their heads in to see if the old giant was around, Seika had been left to his own devices for the most part. Of course this meant playing with the smithy's furnace, but he would never admit to anyone that he was playing with anything, and should they press the issue well... the furnace did look like it could use a refueling.

591/1000

It was the subsequent hours that were the biggest issues for Seika, the monotonous hiss of the steam valve releasing pressure every thirty seconds on the dot, every. single. time. It was actually becoming a bit maddening if he was to be completely honest. He didn't even know how he had ignored the sound the first hour or so because it was just so damn loud. The loud hiss brought him from his thoughts as he turned towards the aforementioned machine, the incessant rattling caused by the machinery hissing back and forth. It was only by the grace of Sol that something finally caught his attention. A small bit of laughter and the clatter of footsteps heading away from the shop letting him know that something was amiss.

Getting up from his place by the furnace, he'd tap on the workers desk before walking out into the foyer. The subtle change in heat was not missed by him as the room got steadily cooler the further away from the furnace he walked. While the heat never truly affected him too much, he could tell that just by stepping near the flap that lead into the main room, he had entered a location that was far more bearable for most normal people to be in.

Pushing his way through the flap, he would spot the graffiti that the delinquents had left behind and frowned. It seemed that the goof balls hadn't known he was there to begin with and had decided to trash the place knowing the old geezer couldn't do much about it. Well that wouldn't do. Resigning himself to the fact he'd have to teach these kids a lesson, he would post himself up by the front, waiting patiently since he knew the fools would come back to muck about again.

His wait wouldn't be long either, only an hour had passed when the sounds of cheering and whooping graced his ears. The eight thugs would walk through the door with a bit of swagger, their faces all glowing with the excitement of trashing the old man's hovel. With a cough, that swagger almost died instantly. All eight of them turning to face the man who sat behind them calmly. They hadn't even noticed him when they walked through the door. The room grew quiet, the only sound being made were the outside ambience and the sounds of the steam vent hissing in the back. A small grin would cross his face as he stared all eight down like a predator, flames already licking about his person as he stood up and walked over to the door. Locking up the shop and lowering the only way to see inside, the eight teens could only feel a shiver go down their spines as the man turned back to them. The heat in the room grew as more and more fire seemed to emanate from the man before a magic seal appeared underneath all of them. They never stood a chance.

The old geezer returned hours later to the sight of eight severely burned but still breathing delinquents. A small note was pinned near one of their heads that read something along the lines of, 'they shouldn't be a nuisance anymore Sir'. With a chuckle, the old drunk bastard would walk further in the shop, leaving the teens to roast in their own foolishness.

[Exit]

1063/1000