Keelow LheiOohs's Logistical Nightmare

It was far from uncommon for Keelow LheiOohs to be found working tirelessly in his smithy. Everyone in Wyrmsboon was familiar of the sound of Keelow’s hammer clanging against his anvil. The Magma Krawk had lived in the village for longer than most could remember, and his smithy had been a fixture of the town for just as long. What was less common, however, was hearing Keelow work at such a frantic pace, hardly ever leaving his smithy. The villagers were concerned, but hardly surprised. What else could a blacksmith be expected to do when his kingdom was at war?

Keelow knew he could have prepared for this, that he should have prepared for this. When Meridell and Darigan Citadel went to war centuries ago, Keelow had heard tales of the Neopets from the future who were instrumental in Meridell’s victory. The couriers who picked up orders on behalf of the kingdom hardly spoke of anything else. On some level, Keelow always knew that with his draconic lifespan, he would inevitably catch up to the era those heroes were native to. However, the time bubble that mostly surrounded the kingdom did not enclose outlying villages like Wyrmsboon. It was all too easy for Keelow to follow the lead of the mortals he lived among and put the war in the past.

Keelow’s work was interrupted by a frantic knock at the door. Keelow extinguished his forge and made his way to the door. He barely turned the knob and the door swung open. One of the kingdom's couriers, a Blue Draik, came tumbling into the smithy. He quickly picked himself up off the floor and saluted Keelow.

“Sorry to interrupt you, sir!” said the Draik courier. “I’m here to pick up the orders from last week!”

“Of course!” said Keelow. “I’ll load them up on the wagon. You’re here for orders 73, 145, and 146, right?”

“O-order 73? It says on my sheet that you fulfilled that one already.”

The memories came flooding back. A furious guard. Missing invoices. Urgent orders that never got picked up. At the time, Keelow had figured the unusually-tight deadlines had caused him to lose track of what needed to be done. With the stress of the war distracting him, Keelow had not considered that the time bubble could still affect him all the same.

"Oh, my mistake," said Keelow. "Would you be interested in buying them at a discount? I know as well as anyone that the kingdom needs whatever it can get right now."

"Well, I would, but..." the Draik stammered. "I was only given the Neopoints for orders 145 and 146, and there’s little room on the wagon."

Keelow sighed and shook his head. "At least I only have to worry about carrying two crates of weapons right now." Keelow effortlessly picked up one of the crates. “The extras will simply have to serve as a head start on the next shipment His Highness needs.”

~~~

Keelow spent that evening scouring over records from three centuries ago. Orders that went unclaimed, customers coming in with receipts Keelow had no memory of writing, repeated order numbers... Dozens of book-keeping errors finally had an explanation, one that did little to ease Keelow’s worries. The people of Meridell needed his weapons to defend them, and the work of the other smiths of the land and his past self would not be enough. As Keelow rummaged through the papers, he set aside the records for orders that were never picked up. As he did so, one order in particular caught his eye. A fine set of plate armor that, according to the date on the paper, was supposed to have been picked up three days short of exactly 300 years ago. Naturally, the armor had been sold off as surplus centuries ago, along with the rest of the seemingly-forgotten orders. It, like all the others, needed to be replaced, and there was little time to spare.

Keelow ran back to his forge. Flames danced at his command, and the forge roared to life. Keelow poured liquid metal into the mold and carved in details with his claws. Thoughts of the lives on the line, the people relying on his handiwork, weighed heavily on Keelow’s mind. Meridell may not have been his birthplace, but it was his home, one that he would proudly do his part to protect.