The Nekromancer - 107. Chapter 107

Six hundred gold. That’s what a forge went for in Absalom. It seemed expensive, but the building was larger than his shop back in Anuli. And it came complete with tools to work with. He would be making his own tools, as all good smiths did, but for now, they would do.

Amnor Sen had to admit he was surprised at his fortune. The second shop he had gone to had been for sale, the owner trying to flee Absalom after giving a priest a shoddy weapon. She seemed insistent that someone was going to come after her, and had parted with the store easily when Amnor Sen had mentioned he was looking for a place to settle down.

To his joy, the forge even had a small loft on the second floor, a place where he could rest his head when he wasn’t working. The metal that littered the floors was all scrap, bronze plated trash that couldn’t be melted down for use, but when he picked through what was left after cleaning the place out, Amnor Sen found a few swords of poor quality that could be melted down, the steel reused. There was even enough charcoal to last him at least a week of work, if he was careful.

By mid morning, the elf was kneeling in the center of a cleaned forge, praying quietly as he dedicated the shop and all things within to Shelyn. He planned to have a cleric officially consecrate the shop when he could afford it, but for now, Amnor Sen would accept the meager blessings his words might bring, knowing that he had no real power to bless the forge.

Rising, the elf headed upstairs, preparing the living quarters next. If he could bring Krem here to live, it would surely go a long way toward protecting the child. Eventually, he would take the half-drow to his mother’s shrine, explain what she had done. But that day was a long way off. For now, Amnor Sen worked on making the shop a place where a child might survive, if not quite thrive immediately.

He needed to find someone who knew about kids, who could teach him how to raise one. A life of smithing and prayer did not necessarily make for a good father, regardless of his intentions. Amnor Sen was set on this course of action. The Trial of the Starstone had claimed far too many lives already, and he would not let it take another innocent. Krem would have a good life, as good of a life as the elf could give him.

Stepping outside, Amnor Sen looked over in the direction of the Ascendant Court, the lights in the sky muted in the light of day, but still ever present. Jakun was still fighting, still holding on, and the elf had to admit that it made him a little angry. How had the amurrun survived when Jeremy died? He couldn’t help remembering the catfolk’s claws reaching for the cleric after they met, the murderous intent in the amurrun’s eyes, and Amnor Sen prayed that Jakun hadn’t killed Jeremy.

No, though he couldn’t quite call Jakun a friend, Amnor Sen couldn’t believe that the amurrun would kill Jeremy. The cleric had to have fallen to some monster. Amnor Sen had always warned Jeremy he would meet his match one day, and now it had happened.

As the rainbows danced in the sky, the paladin set his feet toward the temples once more, seeking answers from his faith. He would find someone to bless his new forge, and to help him with Krem. Amnor Sen had found new purpose to his life, and though he was slightly concerned that this was the wrong direction, the elf would stick to his decision, and see what he could make of himself in this new place. A family would be good for him, someone to care for now that Jeremy was gone. He had always said being in love with the cleric was like raising a child. Maybe he could pull this off.

Approaching the museum once again, he found a cleric awaiting him.

“Welcome back Amnor Sen,” the woman said. “What can we help you with today?”

“I have decided to stay in Absalom, and make my home here. I was hoping I could get someone to bless my forge, and consecrate it in Shelyn’s name. I also plan to adopt an orphan, and need help.”

“I would advise against anything to do with adoption for some time,” the cleric frowned. “You are distraught, and not thinking clearly. Give yourself a chance to settle down, and then make your decisions. However, we can have certainly bring your forge under Shelyn’s loving gaze.”

“I feel as though my forge would be a better home for someone than an orphanage.”

“This is not necessarily true. An orphanage has experience in raising children, a smith less so. I am not saying you would be a poor parent, but your mental stability is lacking. Work on making your home a safe place for a child. Look inward and ask, is this what you truly want? What would be best for the child? They need a loving, nurturing home, and you cannot provide this yet.”

Amnor Sen sighed deeply, slowly nodding.

“You… you’re right. It isn’t time yet,” he said reluctantly. “I want to make his life better, but the forge isn’t even working yet, and I do not have a way to support myself, let alone a son.”

“Your excitement is natural. The desire to do good is natural. But often a brushstroke made in passion can be wrong, and mar an entire work. Set yourself up first, and then let your heart guide you in a position of power. That isn’t to say you couldn’t avail yourself of an orphanage, and be a part of the children’s lives, even if you are not their parent. And doing so will help you learn the art of parenting, a skill I am not sure an adventurer would know,” the cleric smiled slightly.

Amnor Sen let out a pained smile in return.

“I do not possess that skill,” he admitted. “I will take what you said to heart. Thank you.”

“Of course. Now, shall we see about your forge?”