AN: Heyo... so even after practically begging for it no one reviewed... *sigh* All right, well at least you all like it enough to keep reading it.

REVAN: All right, what do I do next?

ERU: Well, you have the Black Arrow, find a forge and melt it down. If you can't make Black Arrow-laced cannonballs, grapeshot should do fine.

REVAN: That's what I was thinking, 'cause carrying around a couple of cannonballs would be a little difficult.

ERU: Certainly.

REVAN: Hey, I don't remember Hanriel from the movies or the books. You wanna tell me something?

ERU: I had absolutely no part in that ;)

Revan sighed. "Great. God uses emoticons," she muttered.

Lake town stank. It absolutely reeked of mildew, dead fish, and a century of poverty and human refuse. It wasn't a very pleasant place to live. Looking up towards the sky, smeared with smoke and smog, she sighed.

"Now, where would I find ironworkers in a place like this?" she asked herself before starting off in a random direction.

REVAN: Any clues?

Unfortunately, Eru decided not to text her back. Seemed like she was on her own for this one. Following the flow of early-morning traffic, she made it to the Market area, a large circular pool with both merchant vessels and market stalls ringing the outside. People began hawking their wares, and Revan searched for any that sold jewelry or other metallic objects. It took her almost halfway around the circuit, but eventually she found someone.

"Good morning, Miss!" cried the hawker. "Looking for something to pretty yourself?"

"I'm actually looking for someone," Revan replied.

"Ah," the hawker replied. "Must be a very lucky man indeed."

Revan sighed. "No, I'm looking for a person. Who sold you these?" she asked, indicating the spread of jewelry.

The hawker paused for a moment, seeming to grow colder. "You wouldn't be looking to undercut my business, would you?" she asked, voice pitched low.

"Not in the slightest. I need something melted down," Revan assured. "An old heirloom."

"Well, my husband makes most of what you see here," the hawker replied, still wary, "but if you're looking to melt something down, you'd do best to find the smithy. North side of town."

"Many thanks," Revan replied, handing her a pair of golden coins. She was about to walk away when she saw a simple pair of earrings - fine-cut emeralds set in silver. She reached up to her own ear - the two studs she'd gotten from Elladan and Elrohir had been lost during their battle with the Orcs and she'd dearly missed them.

She picked up the two emerald studs, and then searched quickly for two more, a sapphire and amethyst, to replace the ones she'd lost. She quickly found them, and though they didn't match each other, nor did they look like the ones her brothers had given her, she held the four out to the old lady behind the stall, who was still gaping at the two golden coins.

"How much for these?" Revan asked.

The lady glanced up, scrutinizing. "If you want those two," she gestured to the unmatched studs, "you'll have to buy their mates," she said, gesturing at the two Revan had left behind on the counter.

Revan groaned, setting the two back on the counter in their places. "Fine. Just for these two," she snarled, her expression daring the hawker to overcharge her.

"Fifteen," the hawker replied.

"Seven," Revan countered.

"You'd drive me out of house and home!" the hawker near-shrieked. "Thirteen, no lower."

"Nine," Revan replied coolly.

"Eleven," the hawker replied. "One and one," she reiterated.

Pulling out one of her many coin purses from within her robe, Revan replied "Done. But I should've gotten a discount for the two crowns I gave you just for the information."

"I did!" cried the Hawker. "Those I would've sold for twenty-five, maybe more," the hawker cried.

"In your dreams," Revan laughed, slapping one golden and one silver coin down on the table. The hawker eagerly snatched them up, and then nibbled at the golden coin, glaring at Revan as she walked away, headed north.

It took long enough for Revan to find the Smithy that she'd gotten hungry. Food in lake town was scarce, and people that were willing to sell it even rarer. She managed to track down a vendor selling fish jerky, and nibbled on that while leaning against one of the Smithy's shed's support beams.

"I don't do work for free," the large man said with a thick Welsh accent.

"I have the money," Revan replied, biting off a particularly tasteless piece of the jerky.

The smithy worked, unspeaking for a minute, then plunged the piece he was working on into a barrel. He lifted it out, examined it, and then began hammering away.

"What do you need?" asked the smithy, still hammering away.

She pulled out the Black Arrow and walked over, shielding her face from the heat.

"I need this," she said, gesturing to the metal tip of the arrow, "turned into several small metal balls."

He paused, glancing over. "Fancy bit o' me'al, that is. Balls you say?"

"About yea big across," she said, holding her fingers a few centimetres apart.

"You won't get nowt out of that," he replied, plunging the piece into the quench again. "What you need it for?"

"Too hard to explain," she said. "Can you do it?"

"Aye," he replied, fishing the piece out again, inspecting it. Noting her gaze, he lifted an eyebrow before bringing the cooled metal over in her direction. "Thoughts?" he asked, before releasing it into her outstretched hands.

Considering Lake Town was a town… on a lake… Revan was significantly surprised when what she held turned out to be a helmet and not a part of a boat nor dock. She handed it back, wiping the quench oil off on her tatty robes. "Fair bit of work, that is," she replied, slipping into her own version of a Welsh accent. "Mind if I see your others?"

Raising an eyebrow, he gestured at the wall behind her. "See for yerself."

She turned around, lifting a steel axe from the rack. "Good quality." She thumbed the blade. "Sharp enough. Your work?" she asked.

"Aye."

She looked over the rest of the racks, then saw a misshapen lump on a back counter. Lifting it up, it looked to be a half-finished sword that seemed to be made poorly.

"I'd make use of that, but it's damn-near indestructible."

"Heat it up more. Fold it. A lot. Mix in some Chromium and Vanadium."

"You wot?"

She sighed. "There are two metals that you can mix in with steel to make it harder and stronger. If you can't get those, add manganese and tungsten. Folding it as well, as many as eight hundred times and it'll be harder and stronger than anything you've ever made."

He gave her a queer look, then glanced down at the malformed lump in her hands. He snatched it back, and turned back to the forge, giving it a few stokes. "Manganese?" he asked without turning.

"And tungsten," she replied, setting the arrow down on the counter.