Garrett kept his expression neutral, showing no hint of his discovery.
"These things of yours, any stick I picked up from the roadside would be more useful than them."
He looked at the pile of refuse on the ground, visibly troubled.
For a mont, Bill couldn't argue. He simply picked up a sword and swung it a few tis, saying, "Co now, sir, they've got so use at least, haven't they?"
Garrett was sowhat surprised, not by Bill's shalessness, but by the fact that his sword movents actually showed so form and technique. Not bad at all.
"You'll definitely find use for them."
"You seem quite confident."
"That's the instinct of a salvage trader, sir," Bill replied with an ingratiating smile.
Fascinating. It seed this world truly did have so extraordinary individuals, like the wizards. But it wasn't just the five Istari who possessed mysterious powers. There were still many gifted folk scattered across Middle-earth.
Bill blinked, and saw a small, antique-looking piece of jewelry appear seemingly from nowhere in Garrett's hand. It was exquisitely crafted. It was the smallest item he could extract from his collection of barrow-loot.
"I don't carry much coin on . How about I pay with this?"
Bill examined it carefully. That trinket... didn't look ordinary at all.
"You're offering to trade this, sir? Well, it's certainly more than enough for these 'wares.'"
He cautiously accepted the ornant, studied it briefly, and his pupils dilated slightly. This wasn't just simple craftwork, it was an antique, and a rare one at that. Certain wealthy collectors would pay handsoly for such a piece.
Not a bad transaction. A small item, perhaps, but quite profitable nonetheless.
Wait a mont...
He suddenly stared at the trinket in his palm, examining it for a long ti.
That style... If he wasn't mistaken... He suddenly looked up at Garrett, sensing that this man now carried a different aura entirely.
He had slain one of them!
This was taken from one of the undead!
A barrow-wight, and not just any ordinary one, an ancient barrow-wight!
By the Valar, that wasn't sothing a common person could even approach and live.
And looking at Garrett, he showed no signs of being cursed or corrupted. That ant... destroying barrow-wights might not even be particularly challenging for him.
Bill's expression grew tense. Blast it all, he'd been treating soone he absolutely shouldn't have trifled with.
Garrett didn't pay much attention to Bill's reactions, but judging from his expression, the trinket he'd offered was probably quite valuable, certainly enough to trade for this mountain of so-called "equipnt."
He continued, "Pack all this up for ."
Packaged junk would count as single items, which would help conserve inventory space.
Bill, now sowhat stunned, nodded repeatedly and began tying the scraps together with rope.
So ti later, as Garrett looked at the neatly organized row of "bundled salvage" in his inventory, he nodded with satisfaction.
Bill didn't ask where all the refuse had disappeared to. For soone who could slay a barrow-wight, an accursed creature born of dark sorcery, having so unusual abilities was only to be expected.
Once everything was secured, Garrett planned to depart and find a suitable place to craft a Salvage Slter. To construct one, he needed an iron ingot, but he had no iron yet.
No matter. He could first slt so using a regular furnace, then craft the advanced slter. Using a standard furnace to process gear was terribly inefficient, throw in a whole iron sword, and you'd only recover a single iron nugget. But the Salvage Slter could yield 1 to 2 full iron ingots.
He had been prepared to throw mountains of junk into a furnace just to squeeze out a few ingots. Who would have thought that scavenging refuse would unlock the "Salvage Slting" recipe?
Now that was an unexpected boon.
Just as Garrett was about to take his leave, Bill called out to stop him.
"Wait a mont, sir."
He quickly approached and drew a long, cloth-wrapped item from his belt.
"This is for you."
Garrett accepted it, unwrapped the cloth, and was imdiately intrigued by what he found.
[Iron Dagger: Attack Power 3, Attack Speed 50%]
[Special Property: Keen Edge - Attack 1]
[Crafting Recipe Unlocked: Dagger (Variant)]
"How much?"
He was prepared to purchase it if it proved worthwhile.
"No charge."
"Oh?"
Bill said earnestly, "I hope this might serve as a token of friendship between us."
"You want to be friends with ?"
"Indeed."
Garrett didn't respond directly. He only said, "Fine blade. I'll take it."
His friendship wasn't quite so easily bought.
At most, because this fellow had helped him unlock a recipe, he might assist with so minor favor in the future, if it proved convenient.
Bill didn't seem disappointed, rely smiled. A salvage trader might not have wealth, but he absolutely required sound judgnt. Even if he couldn't befriend soone of that caliber, it was still worthwhile to know him.
---
Garrett didn't linger in Bree much longer. After returning to the inn and purchasing a substantial quantity of provisions, he continued traveling eastward.
Wearing simple cloth garnts and apparently carrying no visible weapons for protection, he calmly walked through the east gate. The mont he departed, several rough, unkempt n gathered in an alley near the gate. They exchanged aningful glances. Everyone understood what was being contemplated.
Easy prey.
Smack.
A hand landed on one of their shoulders.
The man wasn't startled. He simply turned and peered into the shadows. "Bill? What, joining the hunt too?"
"No. I ca to warn you, you'd better not lay a finger on him. That fellow's not soone you can handle."
The group fell silent, considering. As old rogues who had survived this long, each of them had their own thods of staying alive. They dispersed and returned to their haunts.
Salvage traders were never well-regarded folk. They lived in the gray spaces between law and lawlessness.
---
After leaving Bree, Garrett found a secluded spot well away from any roads. He set up his crafting table and furnace, patiently slting refuse until he had collected nine iron nuggets, enough to forge a single iron ingot.
Then, he used it to craft a Salvage Slter. He fed it charcoal and more junk, keeping the flas burning steadily.
When the first piece of scrap armor yielded three iron ingots, he knew, he wouldn't be short on iron for quite so ti. He constructed three additional Salvage Slters. By the ti he'd processed all the bundled refuse in his inventory, half the day had elapsed.
He looked at the 13 iron ingots in his pack with satisfaction.
He imdiately crafted a complete set of iron armor, a full complent of iron tools, and a sturdy wooden shield. Then he examined the newly unlocked dagger recipe, a wooden handle plus one iron ingot could forge an iron dagger. The crafted dagger retained the 3 attack power and 50% attack speed, just without the "Keen Edge" property.
No matter.
Once he managed to craft an Enchanting Table, he could aim for "Sharpness V," even superior to the original. He just wasn't certain yet whether enchantnts and special properties could stack. If they could, then he'd really need to study how these traits functioned...
After donning the iron armor, he felt only a slight increase in weight, but it didn't impair his movent or agility whatsoever.
[Achievent Unlocked: "Properly Equipped"]
The iron armor's appearance conveyed one clear impression: pristine.
Silvery-bright and smooth. Unlike the blocky appearance it had in gas, the real, materialized version looked elegant and protective. The iron sword in his hand shared the sa refined design as the stone and wooden versions, slender, sturdy, and razor-sharp.
He gripped a large wooden shield in his left hand. It provided a reassuring sense of security. But he didn't intend to wear it constantly, it might alarm people. He could store it in his inventory when not needed. And since gear crafted at a workbench could be equipped instantly, there was no concern about response ti. With everything prepared, he cleaned up the traces of his work and resud his journey.
---
One day later, after departing from the Forsaken Inn, the last settlent before the wild lands, Garrett traveled sowhat farther, pausing at the edge of Bree-land's borders. Looking out across the vast wilderness, he felt a touch of anticipation.
From here on, it was all untad country. He probably wouldn't encounter another soul for quite so ti. Except, perhaps, for certain ill-intentioned individuals.
"Co out."
He spoke aloud to the empty landscape.
No response.
He frowned slightly. That gaze, it was far too obvious.
Back when he'd visited Bill's to conduct business, he had already sensed soone observing him. Initially, he'd assud it was rely so local ruffians or curious folk taking note of a stranger, so he hadn't been particularly concerned. But all the way to the Forsaken Inn, the sensation had persisted.
Following him this far, this was no re curiosity. Truly, wealth should never be displayed openly. Within Bree-land's jurisdiction, no one had dared make a move.
Similarly, he couldn't act rashly within civilized borders either. But now, he was beyond the boundaries. No laws held sway here anymore.
It was ti to settle matters.
Rustle.
The undergrowth stirred.
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