When the first rays of the morning sun shine on Dorel, the people here start their day, and despite being a small town, Dorrell is not a backcountry on the border between the plains of Pono and the mountains of Tara, a popular destination for merchants and adventurers.

"You slackers, move faster, and if you delay delivery, I'll kick you in the ass one by one!" the owner of York's blacksmith called out to his apprentices and fellows in his characteristic loud voice, and opened the door of the blacksmith shop with his hands and feet.

A figure fell backwards with the open door, lying on the ground of the smithy.

"Damn it!" the smiling blacksmith shopkeeper was startled, and he cursed loudly as he bent down to examine the man who had fallen to the ground.

"He must have frozen," said old York, looking at the other man's blue, white face, "go and get some hot soup, and carry him to the fire," he cried out to the men gathered around, "Why don't you go!

As the hot soup traveled down his esophagus into Rhaegar's body, the geist's almost frozen body finally regained some consciousness, but even when his whole body was unable to move, he still maintained his awareness of everything around him.

When he entered the mage's body, Rhaegar didn't realize how amazing this series of breathing-like acts of breathing, according to the method he had memorized—forcibly taking over the bodies of the dead, converting other forms of energy into life energy, something that only vanished gods could do. After successfully blocking the senses of the undead realm, it took the geist about two hours to familiarize himself with and master his new body, and luckily for those two hours, except for a few curious birds, no beasts came.

But that was where his good fortune ended. When he was finally able to move freely, as night fell, a large number of predators appeared around him, and this geist finally escaped the pursuit of those predators and saved his body, and when Rhaegar realized the danger of the wild groping in the mountains for nearly three days, and finally entered the city of Dorel, his physical body began to show abnormalities again: first the weakness of his limbs, and then the weakening of his organs. Even though he had been infusing his body with life energy, by the time he insisted on sitting in the door of the inn, his entire body had almost stopped functioning.

It wasn't until the steaming liquid was poured into his mouth that the geist finally realized the root cause of his current situation: as a living being, his physical body needed not only life energy, but also food, water, air, sunlight, and even the right temperature to maintain the vitality of this physical body. This is common knowledge that almost all living beings know, but for an undead spirit, these things seem somewhat unfamiliar.

As sensations gradually returned to his body and his weakened organs began to function again, Rhaegar slowly opened his eyes. What appeared before him was a fleshy, thick, bearded face, and a little further away from the face, a stout boy with red hair stood holding a jar.

"So, you have nowhere else to go?" said old York, who habitually scratched his somewhat bald head after listening to the life story that Rhaegar had compiled for himself, "It's a troublesome thing, you're hurt, and you've forgotten everything you had in the past. He looked at Rhaegar, whose face was still a little pale, and said in a rough voice: "Listen, you can stay here for a while until you regain your memory, but you have to work, and I don't have the money to support an uncle here." ”

The boy standing behind Old York grimaced at Rhaeggar

Old York got up—and overturned the chair behind him—and walked out of the room, stopping again at the door.

"What's your name?" asked the owner of the smithy shop, turning around.

"Rhaegar. The geist said.

"It's strange," muttered Old York, "that these outlanders like to come up with strange names." He scratched his bald head, "Everyone here calls me Old York, you can call it that, that slacker is called Hann, if you need anything, you can ask him to help you get it, you can't walk on your own for the time being." ”

"I can't put into words how grateful I am...", Rhaegar was interrupted by the sound of the other man slamming the door.

"He doesn't like people to say thank you to him, and that makes him uncomfortable. The boy named Hann said.

In the time since, the owner of the smithy shop almost never stepped through his door, but Rhaegar could always hear his loud voice, which could be heard across the street, coming from outside the room, "Slacker, how is that guy?" "Slacker, give this thing to that guy, it's good for him!"—by the way, old York never called his name in front of his fellows and apprentices in his shop.

After a few days of recuperation, Rhaegar finally regained his health, and when he stepped out of the door for the first time to enjoy the fresh air outside, Old York finally appeared in front of him again.

"Looks like you're all right," he said, looking at Rhaeggar, "if you decide to stay, then from now on, you'll have to go to work." He threw the broom in his hand to the other man, "Now go and sweep the yard, go quickly!

This became Rhaegar's declaration of entry into the smithy, and since then, he, like everyone else, has never had his own name in the mouth of Old York.

"Rhaeggar, you slacker, if you wield the hammer like a pussy again, I'll kick your ass in half!" Old York's roar even drowned out the sound of hammering all kinds of iron.

Rhaegar had long been accustomed to the rudeness of the blacksmith shopkeeper, and in fact, this grumpy fellow was like that to anyone, and even the apprentices could find fault with one kind or another, no matter how hard they worked.

However, you have to admit that this guy is an excellent blacksmith. Throughout the Dorrell, and even in the plains of Bonor, the name of Old York was a loud sign, and his name spread even further afield through the adventurers, and every day he was asked to build various utensils for it, and it was even rumored that he had some dwarven blood, which was worth considering given his beard and violent temper.