Lord of the Mysteries: The Omnipresent Force

Elliot walked through the bustling old market square, his steps quick but measured. The streets were crowded, filled with merchants peddling their wares and townsfolk going about their day. The scent of fresh bread and roasting meats filled the air, but Elliot's mind was elsewhere. The abandoned hospital—his next destination—loomed in his thoughts, though it was still a good distance away. He could already feel the weight of the unknown danger that awaited him, and he knew he couldn't afford to face it unprepared.

The hospital is still far, but I need to prepare. Armor and a weapon. I'll need both.

His destination today was not a haunted building, but a humble smithy. A place that, in this strange new world, was far from rare. Here, weapons and armor were crafted daily, shaping the lives of bounty hunters, soldiers, and common folk alike. Back on Earth, smithies were relics of the past, reserved for historical reenactments or isolated villages. But here, they were essential—perhaps even vital.

This world is full of things that never existed in mine. I'll need to get used to it. This smithy looks like it can give me what I need.

Elliot had already made his decision: he needed to be equipped. And the smithy, with its noisy forge and crowded displays of blades and shields, was his first stop.

As he approached the large, wooden building, a sign caught his attention: Black Iron Smithy. The bold letters were hand-carved, their edges darkened by years of exposure to the elements, but still legible. Inside, the rhythmic sound of hammer striking metal rang out, deep and powerful.

The moment Elliot stepped through the door, the heat of the forge struck him, nearly overwhelming his senses. The glow of the fire flickered against the dim light of the shop, and he could smell the mingling scents of burning coal and molten metal. It was like stepping into a world far removed from his own.

Behind the counter stood an elderly man, his thick, weathered hands caked in soot. His features were sharp, his eyes sharp as well, and there was a look in them that suggested he had spent a lifetime dealing with people who had underestimated him. There was no warmth in his greeting, only a blunt appraisal.

"You looking for something?" the old man asked gruffly, his voice rough from years of use.

"I need some armor and weapons," Elliot replied, trying to mask the nerves he felt creeping into his chest.

No need to show hesitation. Focus, stay calm. You don't want to give off the wrong vibe here.

The blacksmith's gaze moved over Elliot, sizing him up. He was thin, no doubt about it, with the build of someone who relied on agility rather than raw strength. But the smith's eyes lingered on Elliot's face, as if searching for something deeper.

"You sure about that? You've got the build for speed, not for heavy armor," the old man said, giving him a once-over.

Elliot nodded, understanding exactly what the smith meant. "I'm not looking for anything heavy. I need something I can move in. Something discreet."

The old man grunted, turning to a large rack behind him. "I've got something for you then." He pulled out a set of flexible, lightweight armor made of woven metal mesh. It wasn't as solid as traditional chainmail, but the interlocking rings of steel gave it a sturdy appearance. He held it up, letting Elliot take a look.

Light, flexible. I can see how it'd work. Still, it's not quite the level of protection I want. But it's a good balance between agility and defense.

"This is light armor. You can wear it under your clothes, won't weigh you down too much. Not as good as full plate, but it'll keep you from being skewered too easily." The smith eyed Elliot again, noting the slight unease in his posture. "But you'll still feel a blade if it hits you hard."

Elliot ran his hand over the armor, feeling the smooth, flexible material. It was exactly what he had in mind—light, discreet, and strong enough to absorb a glancing blow. He nodded. "How much?"

The old man grunted again. "Forty-five pounds."

Elliot raised an eyebrow. "A bit steep, don't you think?"

"I know what I'm selling, lad," the smith shot back, his tone firm. "You won't find better for the same price."

It's a good offer, but forty-five pounds for something like this? It's not full protection, but it might be enough. I'll see if I can get him to lower it a bit.

Elliot held his ground. "I'm just saying, it's not a full suit of armor. I'd expect something a bit cheaper."

The smith met his gaze, sizing him up once more. After a long moment, he shrugged and set the armor down. "Fair enough. Forty pounds, then."

Elliot didn't want to spend that much, especially when he still needed a weapon. "Thirty," he countered, folding his arms across his chest. "That's all I can give."

The old man narrowed his eyes. "You're a tough one, eh? Alright, alright. I'll take thirty-five for the armor."

Elliot nodded, satisfied with the progress but unwilling to give in too easily. "I'll take a look at the weapons."

The blacksmith gestured to a table behind him, where a variety of weapons lay scattered. Elliot's eyes swept over each one, his mind applying his [Observation] skill. He let his focus sharpen, inspecting each weapon in turn. There were several blades—long ones, curved ones, and straight-edged ones—along with a few daggers and even a couple of firearms. Each weapon was practical, functional, nothing extraordinary.

He picked up a large, two-handed sword first. Its weight was substantial, the blade broad and sharp, but the hilt was unwieldy for his smaller frame. As his gaze focused, the skill activated again.

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Ordinary Item: Two-Handed Broadsword

Description: A large sword designed for powerful, sweeping strikes. Ideal for someone with great strength but unwieldy for smaller fighters. Offers superior cutting power but sacrifices speed and precision.

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This isn't right for me. It's heavy and too slow. My speed would be completely wasted with something like this.

Next, he turned to a smaller longsword. It had a more balanced design, but the blade was still too long and the weight not quite suited to his needs. He inspected it closely, triggering his observation skill once again.

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Ordinary Item: Longsword

Description: A standard sword. Offers a good balance of cutting power and reach, but the hilt design makes it slightly cumbersome for precise movements. A versatile weapon but better suited for a strong, well-armored fighter.

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Too cumbersome. It's versatile, but it won't complement my style. I need something quicker, something that fits my build.

He continued along the table, running his hand over a sleek, curved scimitar. Its blade was light and sharp, designed for fast slashing. He activated his observation skill once again.

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Ordinary Item: Curved Scimitar

Description: A curved sword designed for slashing attacks. Light and fast but difficult to control in tight spaces. Best suited for fighters who prefer sweeping strikes over thrusts.

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This could work for speed, but it's too awkward in tight spaces. I need something with better versatility.

Next, Elliot's eyes fell on a few pistols scattered across the table. They were heavy, sleek, and modern, their black steel reflecting the light. He examined one, triggering his [Observation] skill once more.

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Ordinary Item: Revolver

Description: A powerful firearm. Compact, with decent stopping power but limited range and accuracy. Requires steady aim, and not suited for fast movement in combat.

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Tempting, but I have never fired a gun before. I doubt I have the aim to use this properly in combat.

Elliot glanced over the remaining blades, each one seemingly more conventional than the last. None stood out. The blacksmith, who had been quietly watching him, finally spoke up, sensing Elliot's growing frustration.

"Well, lad," the blacksmith said with a knowing smile, "you've been eyeing everything, but nothing seems to suit you, does it?"

Elliot nodded, not sure how to put it into words. "None of these feel right. I need something that matches my speed and agility, not just another heavy blade. And a gun won't work because I don't have the necessary training to use it."

The old man studied Elliot for a moment, then chuckled, as if recalling something. "Aye, I figured you'd say that. Look at you—you've got the lean build of a quick fighter, not someone who's meant to swing around heavy swords. But removing guns from the table only leaves you with a few options." He waved his hand toward the various blades. 

Elliot shook his head. "I need something quick. Something that won't slow me down."

The blacksmith grinned, clearly having anticipated the answer. "Well then, lad, daggers are what you want. They're quick, nimble, and can be used in tight spots—perfect for someone with your build."

Elliot raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Daggers, huh?"

The blacksmith nodded sagely. "Aye. They may not look like much, but with the right speed, you'll be a blur in combat. You won't need heavy weapons weighing you down. A dagger's all you need for something light and precise."

Elliot glanced at the array of daggers on the table, his eyes once again applying his [Observation] skill.

What followed was a detailed inspection of the daggers, their various designs, and their potential uses, as Elliot's focus honed in on the weapons before him. Some were long, others were curved, some had straight edges, and a few looked almost too decorative to be practical.

Finally, his gaze landed on a pair of daggers that stood out not because of their design or sharpness but because of their peculiar hilt. As he activated his [Observation] skill, the details unfolded:

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Ordinary Item: Dual Dagger Set

Description: A pair of daggers with an unusual design, perfect for conducting electrical energy. They are designed for quick strikes and are made with conductive materials all the way down to the hilt.

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These… These are perfect. Not the most traditional for close combat, but they're ideal for my abilities. I could use these to channel electrical energy, give myself an edge in combat. This is what I've been searching for.

The smith, noticing where Elliot's eyes were drawn, snorted. "Those?" He pointed toward the pair of daggers. "I don't know why you'd pick those. They're a failure, really. Designed with a unique idea in mind, but no one seems to want them. Too odd, too different. People like their daggers simple, not… whatever that is."

Elliot smiled slightly, his curiosity growing. There was something compelling about these daggers. He could feel it deep within.

No one else seems to see it, but these are made for me. If I'm going to survive what's coming, I'll need something like this.

"I'll take them," Elliot said, his voice steady and decisive.

The smith raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised. "You sure? They're not much to look at, and they're harder to sell than a broken sword. They're too unique for the average person."

Elliot didn't hesitate. "I'm sure. The design's perfect for what I need."

The smith let out a long sigh, clearly resigned to the transaction. "Fifteen pounds for the pair, then. It's all I can do. But don't come crying to me if they don't work out."

Elliot handed over the coins without a second thought, placing the fifty pounds down with a firm decision. The armor and daggers were a good fit for him, and the price was right.

Elliot took the items from the smith's hands and placed them in his inventory. The armor was exactly what he needed for the road ahead, and the daggers… well, they were more than just weapons. They would be tools, extensions of his will. Tools that could keep him alive long enough to discover what lay in the darkened halls of the abandoned hospital.

This world has a lot more to offer than I first thought. I'll need everything I can get to survive here. But at least now, I'm ready.