Arthur stood alone with the men now, who he stared down. "What do you want?" he asked coldly.
The one on the left, who had a scar running across his cheek from some old fight, stuttered first as he tried to find his voice under Arthur's unblinking gaze. "Rudge sent us," he said, the words tumbling out while he glanced at his companion for support. "To collect... what you owe for protection, like always."
Arthur gripped his sword tightly, the leather wrap creaking under his fingers as he took a step forward that made both men flinch. "I already paid for this month," he said angrily. "And next month, and the month after that... I gave your lot three silver moons just days ago."
The scarred man exchanged a look with the other, who had a thinner build and eyes that darted toward the door as if wondering if he should escape. They laughed nervously then, the sound forced and hollow while they tried to regain composure. "That was the old price," the thin one said, his words coming out with a slight tremble that he cleared his throat to hide.
"Old price?" Arthur repeated through gritted teeth, his knuckles whitening on the hilt as he advanced another step that forced them to retreat toward the wall.
The scarred man nodded quickly, his sword lowering slightly. "Rudge found out about you buying the building next door," he said, "and spending all that gold to furnish it and overhaul this place, he says it takes more effort to protect fancy buildings like that now, so the price has gone up to match the hard work."
Arthur did not react for a moment, standing motionless while the implication sank in that Rudge was simply attempting to scam him for gold he no longer possessed. He'd long since spent it on the building and improvements. Rage built within him then almost making him slaughter both men there and there, he walked toward them slowly. The men saw the change in his eyes and attacked in panic, the scarred one lunging with a thrust aimed at Arthur's chest while the thin one swung a horizontal cut from the side.
Arthur disarmed the scarred man first with a parry from Sunset that hooked the blade and twisted it free from his grip, sending the sword clattering across the room toward the hearth. At the same time, he caught the thin man's wrist with his left hand and used a grip to redirect the swing's momentum, pulling the arm forward while he stepped aside so the man overbalanced and fell to his knees with his weapon dropping from numb fingers.
The men lay on the ground then, scrambling back against the wall while fear widened their eyes. "Please," the scarred one begged, his hands raised in surrender. "Do not kill us we are just messengers, nothing more."
The thin one nodded frantically beside him. "Rudge made us come," he pleaded. "We didn't want any trouble."
Arthur growled at them, his sword point hovering near their throats. "Go back to Rudge," he said darkly, "and tell him he can shove those two gold up his arse where they belong."
The men nodded eagerly, relief flooding their faces as they realized he would not strike the final blow. "We will," the scarred one promised. "We swear it to the old gods and the new."
Arthur stepped back then, gesturing toward the door with his blade. "Fuck off and leave now," he ordered coldly, "before I change my mind."
The men scrambled up from the floor before they ran out the door and into the streets, their footsteps fading quickly as they fled down the alley.
Arthur sighed deeply once they had gone, sheathing Sunset with a click that echoed in the now-empty hall. He walked over to the main table and took a seat on one of the benches, his elbows resting on the wood while he stared at the grain in contemplative silence. Anger simmered within him at the intrusion, the way Rudge dared to send men into his home to threaten those he cared for after he had already paid what was demanded. Two gold a month amounted to extortion, a scam built on the knowledge of his spending, and Arthur knew he could not sustain it; the pouch from Willem was much lighter now.
He thought about how to deal with this situation, weighing options that ranged from paying the increased amount to seeking help from the Goldcloaks who rarely ventured deep into Flea Bottom's warrens.
None satisfied him
Payment would only invite more demands, and guards might not root out a gang leader, and if he was honest the gold cloaks likely received a cut from them. The conclusion settled over him gradually... he would have to kill Rudge, remove the source of the problem before it escalated into violence that endangered the children or the women.
At that moment, the door to the connecting corridor creaked open slightly, and Mira peered through to check if it was safe. Arthur heard the sound and lifted his head. "They are gone now," he called. "You can come back."
The girls entered then, Mira first with Cassie close behind, Alys following while she looked around with wide eyes at the empty hall. They gathered near the table where Arthur sat, concern etching their faces as they saw his expression. "What happened?" Mira asked, sitting beside him while she took his hand.
Arthur explained briefly, telling them how the men came from Rudge's gang to demand increased protection money based on the new home and improvements. "They wanted two gold a month," he said, still barely able to contain his anger.
Cassie leaned against the table on his other side. "What will happen now?" she asked, worry clear in her tone.
Alys crossed her arms. "We cannot pay that," she added. "It would ruin us."
Arthur looked at each of them in turn. "I will deal with it," he said firmly. "Rudge will not bother us again after I handle him."
Mira's grip tightened on his hand. "How?" she asked. "You mean kill him?"
Arthur nodded. "It is the only way to end this for good."
The revelation scared them, their faces paling as they processed the danger. Mira hugged his side tightly, her head resting on his shoulder. "Be careful," she whispered. "We just found each other, I cannot lose you."
Cassie pressed close on his other side, her arm linking through his. "Promise you will come back," she said.
Arthur wrapped his arms around both of them, pulling Alys into the circle with a gesture. "It will be okay," he assured them. "I have faced worse than a gang leader in Flea Bottom. I will make a plan and end this threat before it grows."
Alys nodded reluctantly. "You know where to find him?" she asked.
"No... but I will," Arthur replied, "I can ask around quietly, I'm sure someone has some information."
Mira suggested then, her voice hesitant. "We could tell Rhaella," she said. "She could set the Goldcloaks on them, have the whole gang rounded up."
Arthur shook his head. "I doubt the Goldcloaks would find them all," he explained. "Criminals like Rudge dig themselves in deep, with hiding spots and bribes that keep the guard away. It would only stir them up, make them come back harder."
The girls accepted his reasoning, though worry lingered in their eyes. Arthur comforted them further, hugging Mira and Cassie close while he spoke of how he had survived Willem's manse and the cliff climb to the Red Keep. "I will not take foolish risks," he promised. "We have too much to lose now."
"Keep the doors locked and the bars on the windows chained when I leave, and make sure to keep the crossbows I made in here, though make sure the children don't get their hands one them." The girls agreed, hugging him tightly once more before they stepped back.
"It will be okay," Arthur repeated, kissing Mira's forehead and then Cassie's. "Trust me."
"I'm going to the shed for a while, keep the children inside today and keep an eye out for anyone watching the orphanage," he told them as he stood up.
Mira and Cassie exchanged worried glances, but they nodded as he stood. Arthur leaned down and gave each a deep kiss before he left through the back door into the yard. He headed back to his shed, he needed to make some weapons that would help him deal with Rudge, the man probably had dozens of men under his command so Arthur had to find a way to even the odds.
The weapons he'd made before had come in useful when he had broken into Willem's estate months ago, however he had also nearly died last time from wounds he had, so he would need to make something better this time.
Stroking his face absently as he entered the shed and closed the door behind him, Arthur remembered that he actually had an Otherworld Token he had not used yet from the quest he completed for buying the house. He had been so busy as of late it had slipped his mind. 'Might as well see what it gives,' he thought to himself, focusing on the token in his inventory until it activated.
_____________________________
[Otherworld Token Consumed]
_____________________________
You have received: Small Ingot of Valyrian Steel
_____________________________
Arthur stared at the ingot that materialized on the bench in front of him, shock held him motionless for several long moments as he realized what he held. He knew how rare Valyrian steel was from stories that his father used to tell his brothers... about the ancient blades passed down through noble houses, weapons that never dulled and cut through armor like cloth, yet only a handful existed in all of Westeros—kind of similar to his own sword. Though when his shock wore off and he picked up the ingot to feel its weight in his hand, he realised how useless it actually was in his current situation since no normal smith could work Valyrian steel without ruining it.
He set it down carefully while annoyance built within him, understanding that smiths who could forge or reforge Valyrian steel lived mostly in Essos or hid their skills from the world, there was no way such a craftsman would be found in King's Landing. 'What good is this if I cannot even shape it into a blade?' he thought, frustration making him pace the narrow space between benches. Though if he was honest the ingot was too small to make a sword anyway.
Unless...
He remembered a certain chapter in the alchemy book he had acquired months ago that mentioned transmuting and shaping metals. Arthur grabbed the heavy tome from the shelf where it sat among his tools and slammed it down on the workbench, flipping through the pages until he got to the chapter about metal shaping that detailed the processes for altering forms without traditional forging.
'Shit... this is gonna be long...' he thought as he flipped through page after page.
He studied it for hours as he tried to figure out how to do it, sitting on a stool with the book open under the window's light while he read the instructions carefully and committed them to memory. The materials listed included one metal ingot as the base mass which he had in the Valyrian steel, silver dust in a thin pinch to act as a catalyst for clean signal flow, gold dust in a thin pinch to stabilize fine reconstruction, chalk or charcoal to draw the array, and a flat grounded surface like stone or packed earth. The goal focused on converting the ingot's shape into a blade form while keeping the mass the same, using silver for clarity and gold for stability as array catalysts, and including a dedicated shaping rune to control geometry.
The drawing of the array required one large outer circle with a second circle inside it, then a triangle pointing up within that, three small circles on the triangle's corners as nodes, and a small circle in the center as the core.
Four labeled runes followed: purify at the north top, bind at the west left, stabilize at the east right, and shape at the south bottom as the shaping rune. Connections linked every rune back into the inner circle with lines that formed one continuous circuit without gaps or breaks.
( PURIFY )
▲
( BIND ) --+-- ( STABILIZE )
▼
( SHAPE RUNE )
Placing the materials meant putting the ingot directly on the core node in the center, sprinkling silver dust in a thin ring on the left side between the core and bind, and gold dust in a thin ring on the right side between the core and stabilize, keeping the amounts small since they served as catalysts rather than additions to the blade.
Then you had to set the intent.
Setting the intent involved placing hands on the array edge and mentally locking three statements: what it is as one ingot of metal, what it becomes, and what must not change.
Activation required touching both palms to the array and focusing on the core node and shut down meant lifting hands off the array and not stepping through the circle until the glow faded, then brushing away the dust only after the reaction ended.
Arthur attempted all he could with what he had available, drawing the array on the flat stone floor of the shed with chalk from his pack and placing the Valyrian steel ingot on the core node in the center, but he did not have the gold dust or silver dust required as catalysts which left the setup incomplete.
"I guess I'm going out today..." he said to himself, as he decided to go visit a blacksmith in the city. It would be expensive given the value of even small amounts of precious metals, but he felt this expense was worth it if it meant forging the valyrian steel into a useable blade.
Arthur left the shed with his pack slung over his shoulder, locking the door behind him before he headed toward the gate.
____________________________________
Two men stumbled through the narrow door of a warehouse in the deepest part of Flea Bottom. The place reeked of damp stone and old ale, with crates stacked along the walls and a few lanterns hanging from hooks.
Sat at a table in the centre was none other than Rudge, counting coins from a small pouch while several of his gang lounged nearby on barrels or benches, sharpening knives or nursing drinks.
The scarred man entered first, limping slightly from where he had twisted his ankle in the flight, while the thin one trailed behind with his head down. A large enforcer named Grom stood near Rudge, his massive arms folded across his chest as he watched them approach. Rudge looked up slowly, his narrow eyes taking in their disheveled state. "Back already?" he said lazily. "And empty-handed from the look of you. What happened, did the old woman scare you off with a broom?"
The scarred man swallowed hard, glancing at Grom who cracked his knuckles. "Boss... listen," he started, his voice hosrse from running, "it did not go as planned. The boy... he was there. The one with the sword who killed our friend."
Rudge leaned back in his chair, fingers drumming on the table. "The boy," he repeated slowly. "And you two, grown men with steel in your hands, came back without the coin?"
The thin one stepped forward nervously. "He drew on us quick-like," he said, words tumbling out. "Fought like a proper knight, boss. Disarmed us both before we could land a blow. We barely got out with our skins."
Rudge stared at them for a long moment, then burst into laughter that echoed off the walls, harsh and mocking. "A knight?" he said between guffaws, slapping the table. "That whelp? You are telling me a boy fresh out his mother's cunt put the fear in you two?"
Grom laughed at the two with his boss.
The scarred man shifted uncomfortably. "He was fast, boss," he insisted. "And strong. Caught my blade and twisted it right out of my hand... and he grabbed Harlan's wrist and threw him down like nothing."
Rudge's laughter died abruptly, his face hardening as he leaned forward. "You are disgraces," he said coldly, rising from his chair. "You should have cut him down, taken the gold he is sitting on, and brought me his head."
The men flinched as Grom moved in, his huge fists swinging first into the scarred man's gut that doubled him over with a wheeze, then a backhand across the thin one's face that sent him sprawling. They apologized profusely between blows, curling on the floor while they begged for mercy. "Sorry, boss," the scarred one gasped. "We tried we swear it!!!"
Rudge watched the beating for a moment, his anger simmering as he thought about the reports his men had brought. The boy had been busy, buying the a whole buikding, spending dozens of gold on furnishings and repairs, overhauling the orphanage. All that coin, wasted on brats and charity when it could line Rudge's pockets and expand his hold on Flea Bottom. It infuriated him, the waste of it, the defiance in spending freely without paying proper respect.
"Enough," Rudge said finally, waving Grom off. The enforcer stepped back, breathing heavy while the two men groaned on the floor.
Rudge paced slowly, his mind turning. "This boy thinks he can play lord in my territory," he muttered. "Time to remind him who rules these streets."
He stopped and looked at Grom and several others who sat straighter at his attention. "Follow him," Rudge ordered. "Watch where he goes, who he meets. When he is away from that orphanage and alone, take him out."
Grom nodded respectfully, his massive head dipping. "As you say, boss."
(AN: So Arthur is going to do his first real bit of alchemy. While this is mainly full metal alchemist alchemy there is a bit of actual alchemy, so catalysts and reagents and shit. What kind of small weapon do you think he should have? I'm considering him using it for the hidden blade that he crafted, but if anyone has any better ideas I'm open.)
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