Dawn broke over Woodhaven with predictable beauty. Soft golden light spilled across thatched rooftops, illuminating morning dew that clung to every surface. The village stirred slowly—shopkeepers opening windows, farmers leading livestock to pasture, guards changing shifts at the wooden palisade that surrounded the settlement.

Cain awoke to the familiar sound of his father stoking the forge. Rising quickly, he splashed cold water on his face from the basin by his bed and dressed in his work clothes—a simple linen shirt, sturdy pants worn smooth at the knees, and the leather apron that protected him from sparks and heat. Every movement was practiced, efficient, the routine of his life as unquestioning as the sunrise.

"The Herald announced a large group today," Edric remarked as Cain joined him at the forge. His father was already sweating, muscled arms glistening in the firelight as he pumped the bellows. "The shrine will be busy."

The Adventurer's Shrine stood at the center of Woodhaven's main square—a circular stone platform inscribed with runes that glowed faintly blue. It was there that new Adventurers first appeared in this world, materializing in flashes of light that villagers had long since learned to ignore. Veterans called it "crossing over," one of many strange terms they used.

"I'll start on the sword hilts," Cain offered, moving to his workstation while Edric nodded approvingly.

They worked in comfortable silence as the morning progressed, the familiar rhythm of the forge a meditation of sorts. Hammer and anvil, heat and metal, creation through repetition. By midday, they had assembled a respectable inventory of beginner weapons: shortswords, daggers, simple maces, and a few low-quality bows for those inclined toward ranged combat.

The bell above the shop door chimed, signaling the official opening of business. They didn't have to wait long for customers.

"It's starting," Edric observed, looking through the open door toward the village square. Flashes of blue light pulsed from the shrine, each one depositing a disoriented newcomer into Woodhaven.

The new arrivals appeared in waves of five or six at a time. They stumbled from the shrine platform, wide-eyed and unsteady, like newborn foals learning to walk. Some spun in circles, staring at their own hands in wonder. Others immediately began running and jumping, testing the physics of this world with childish abandon.

"Why do they always do that?" Cain asked, watching a new Adventurer repeatedly jump in place, as if testing how high he could go.

Edric shrugged. "Not our concern. They'll settle once the guides walk them through the basics."

Right on cue, Cain's mother Lydia approached the group, along with other designated guides. With gentle gestures, they began directing the newcomers, explaining customs and basic interactions. Most Adventurers listened attentively. Some, however, simply ran past, eager to explore on their own terms.

The first customers entered the forge within the hour—a young woman with short black hair and a name floating above her head: "ShadowWhisper." She was accompanied by two others: "TankMaster" and "HexHunter." All bore the telltale level 1 indicator of fresh arrivals.

"Welcome to Edric's Forge," Cain's father intoned. "Best weapons in Woodhaven for new Adventurers. How may I assist you today?"

"Hi!" ShadowWhisper responded with enthusiasm. "We need weapons. I'm going rogue, he's a warrior, and she's a mage—though she'll probably just need a staff for now."

Edric nodded. "I have exactly what you need." He gestured to the weapon racks. "Daggers for the rogue, a one-handed sword or mace for the warrior, and yes, a simple staff for the mage. All priced affordably for beginners."

The three Adventurers approached the display, examining the weapons with interest. TankMaster lifted a shortsword, testing its weight with exaggerated swings that made Cain step back to avoid being hit.

"Sorry," the Adventurer said with a sheepish grin. "Still getting used to controlling my movements."

"No harm done," Cain replied, the standard response for minor mishaps.

As they browsed, more customers filtered in, creating a steady stream of business. Cain assisted where needed, demonstrating weapon features and explaining the basic attributes of each piece. Most interactions were pleasant enough, with new Adventurers treating him with the respect one might afford a helpful salesperson.

Not all visitors were so courteous.

Around midday, the shop door burst open with such force that it slammed against the wall. A group of Adventurers stormed in, laughing raucously. Unlike the newcomers, their levels ranged from 10 to 15—still low by the standards of the wider world, but veterans of the surrounding forests. Their names glowed with custom colors: "BloodFist" in aggressive red, "SlayerKing" in menacing black, "ToxicQueen" in poisonous green.

"Check this place out," BloodFist announced loudly. "Man, I haven't been back to the starter village since I began. Everything looks so... basic." He snorted. "And the locals are so dumb."

SlayerKing approached the counter where Edric stood, expression unchanged. "Hit me with your sales pitch, blacksmith."

"Welcome to Edric's Forge," Cain's father responded without variation. "Best weapons in Woodhaven for new Adventurers. How may I assist you today?"

The group erupted in laughter. "Classic," ToxicQueen said, wiping an imaginary tear. "They really are just like talking statues."

Cain continued working quietly at his station, trying to focus on fitting a leather grip to a dagger handle. The mockery was nothing new, but it still created an uncomfortable sensation in his chest.

"What's the forge brat doing over there?" BloodFist asked, pointing at Cain.

"My son assists me in crafting and selling weapons," Edric explained mechanically. "He is apprenticing to become a blacksmith."

"Hey kid!" SlayerKing called out. "What's the saddest thing that ever happened to you?"

The question caught Cain off-guard. There was no standard response for this. "I... don't understand the question," he answered truthfully.

"See? Nothing in there," SlayerKing tapped his own temple. "Just empty. Watch this." He drew his sword—a flashy blue blade that hummed with enchantment—and suddenly swung it directly at Cain's workbench, sending tools scattering across the floor.

Cain jumped back, surprised. "Please be careful with the equipment," he said, the closest appropriate response from his limited options.

"Please be careful with the equipment," ToxicQueen mimicked in a monotonous voice, sending her companions into another fit of laughter.

"You know what would be fun?" BloodFist mused, picking up one of Cain's hammers from the floor. "Seeing if we could get these villagers to react differently. Like, what happens if I just do this—"

He raised the hammer as if to strike Cain, but before he could complete the motion, another voice cut through the shop.

"Is there a problem here?"

A tall figure stood in the doorway—level 42, with the name "VanguardProtector" floating above him in dignified blue letters. His armor was elegant but practical, and a gleaming shield was strapped to his back.

BloodFist lowered the hammer immediately. "Just having some fun with the locals, man. No harm done."

"The village is a safe zone," VanguardProtector replied coolly. "That extends to all its inhabitants as well. They may be simple folk, but they're here to enhance the experience for everyone, not serve as your personal entertainment."

"Whatever," SlayerKing muttered. "We were just leaving anyway. This gear is trash compared to what we've got now."

The group filed out, shoving past a few startled newcomers who were entering the shop. VanguardProtector watched them go, then approached the counter.

"I apologize for their behavior," he said to Edric, then glanced at Cain. "Some Adventurers forget that treating Natives with respect is part of the proper way."

"No apology necessary," Edric responded with his usual implacability. "How may I assist you today?"

VanguardProtector smiled slightly. "Actually, I'm just here to check on the new arrivals. I lead a beginners' guild that helps fresh Adventurers get started on the right foot." He looked around the shop appreciatively. "Your forge is always their first stop for equipment."

"Thank you for your patronage," Edric replied.

The high-level Adventurer nodded and exited, leaving Cain to clean up the scattered tools. As he worked, the shop continued to fill with new Adventurers, all eager to purchase their first weapons before venturing into the world beyond Woodhaven's gates.