Chapter 6

  A Miner affair

  The streets of Oakhollow bustled with early evening activity as Thorin strode through the marketplace, Vorn nestled unseen beneath his hooded cloak. The warm glow of lanterns flickered against timber-framed buildings, the scent of roasting meat and fresh bread filling the air. A good sign—where there was food, there was an inn.

  "So, we're looking for a place with a decent bed, a meal that won’t poison you, and hopefully someone dumb enough to hire you," Vorn muttered.

  Thorin smirked. "You’re awfully invested for someone who said I’d be dead in a week."

  "Yeah, well, you've exceeded expectations. It’s like watching a one-legged man at a butt kicking contest, no one knows why, and they can't turn away."

  "I don't get it..."

  "Of course, YOU don't"

  Thorin kept his eyes peeled for a promising establishment.

  A wooden sign ahead creaked in the breeze, bearing an engraved ale mug and the words "The Stumble Inn." The sound of laughter and clinking tankards drifted from within.

  "Oh, I like this place already. The name suggests patrons with poor decision-making skills—our kind of people."

  "Let’s see if they have a room before you start planning to fleece drunks," Thorin muttered, pushing open the heavy oak door.

  Inside, the tavern was lively, a broad-shouldered barkeep was filling mugs behind the counter, a serving girl wove between tables with practiced ease, and a few patrons huddled in corners whispering over maps and contracts.

  Thorin’s lips curled into a small grin.

  Thorin strode up to the bar, his boots scuffing against the well-worn floorboards, as he adjusted his cloak to keep Vorn hidden. The broad-shouldered barkeep, a middle-aged man, glanced his way before stepping over.

  "Ale," Thorin said, fishing out a few tin coins. "And a room with meals."

  The barkeep nodded, grabbing a wooden tankard and filling it from a cask behind him. "That'll be 5 coppers for the room and board, 3 tin for the drink."

  Thorin slid the payment across the counter as the barkeep set the ale in front of him.

  "Careful, big guy, that’s most of your fortune right there," Vorn whispered from beneath the cloak.

  Thorin said. “What’s on the menu?”

  "Stew, and bread, It’s decent, not fancy.

  He took a long drink, letting the slight burn settle before speaking again. "Any work to be had in town? Something that pays."

  The barkeep wiped his hands on a rag. "If you've got a strong back, the blacksmith over on Hammer Lane has been looking for extra hands. Always needs help or low skill workers." He leaned against the counter, eyeing Thorin with curiosity. "Name's Orlan, by the way. I run the Stumble Inn."

  Thorin set his mug down and gave a nod. "Thorin Blackwood."

  "Oh good, now you’re on a first-name basis with the help," Vorn muttered. "Truly, you’re moving up in the world."

  Thorin took another drink, ignoring him. He had a room, a meal, and a possible job lead. Not bad.

  Orlan soon returned, setting a steaming bowl of thick stew in front of Thorin, along with a hefty chunk of fresh bread. The rich aroma of slow-cooked meat, root vegetables, and herbs filled the air.

  "Here you go," Orlan said gruffly. "It's not fancy, but it'll keep you on your feet."

  Thorin gave a nod and dug in, tearing off a piece of bread to sop up the broth. The stew was hearty, well-seasoned, and exactly what he needed after the long day. As he scraped the last remnants from the bowl, Orlan placed another ale beside him.

  "On the house," the barkeep said with a smirk. "You look like you work hard enough to enjoy a second one."

  "See? The humans have already begun offering tribute," Vorn mused. "At this rate, you might actually pass for useful."

  Thorin just grunted, lifting the tankard for another long drink.

  As he set it down, a voice, smooth and teasing, cut through the tavern noise. "You drink like a man who’s had a rough day."

  Thorin turned slightly as a young woman approached, the barmaid with auburn curls and bright green eyes. She leaned on the counter with a smile, her gaze flicking over him with open interest.

  "You could say that" Thorin replied.

  She smirked. "Then I’d say you’ve earned another drink… but Orlan already beat me to it."

  Orlan snorted from behind the bar. "I don’t pay you to flirt, Laina."

  Laina rolled her eyes. "And yet, here I am, doing it for free." She turned her attention back to Thorin, twirling a loose curl around her finger. "So, what brings a man like you to Oakhollow? Just passing through, or looking to stick around?"

  Thorin met her gaze, debating how much to say.

  "Oh, do tell her," Vorn whispered with amusement. "Maybe she’ll be impressed by your unparalleled skill at pissing off squirrels."

  Thorin ignored him, giving Laina a half-smirk. "Depends. Might be work for me here."

  Laina leaned in slightly. "Well, if you do stick around, I wouldn’t mind seeing more of you. Oakhollow’s got a way of being a little… dull." Her smile turned playful. "Might be nice to have a fresh face around."

  Thorin raised a brow. "That so?"

  "Oh, this is painful to watch," Vorn muttered. "You do know how to flirt back, don’t you?"

  Laina chuckled, seemingly enjoying herself. "It is. And now, I suppose I should get back to work before Orlan starts grumbling again."

  She tapped the bar twice before sauntering off to tend to another table, throwing a quick glance over her shoulder before disappearing into the crowd.

  Thorin exhaled, shaking his head as he finished off his drink.

  "I’m giving you a three out of ten," Vorn mused. "You didn’t embarrass yourself completely, but let’s be honest—you were as smooth as a corn cob."

  Thorin stretched his shoulders as he stood from the bar, rolling out the tension in his muscles. He tossed a glance toward Orlan. "Room key?"

  Orlan nodded, reaching under the counter for a simple iron key. "Top of the stairs, third door on the left. Try not to break the furniture."

  Thorin grunted in acknowledgment, taking the key and making his way upstairs. The room was modest and clean—wooden floors, a sturdy bed with a thick woolen blanket, and a small washbasin. It was nothing fancy, but it would do.

  After locking the door, he shrugged off his cloak, letting Vorn settle onto the bed while he moved to the open space near the window.

  "Finally, privacy," Vorn muttered, stretching his serpentine body. "Now, what? Staring at the ceiling until morning?"

  Thorin ignored him. Instead, he dropped to the floor and began a regimented exercise routine—pushups, sit-ups, sprinting in place, and dynamic stretches. He focused on controlled movements, pushing his limits to develop both strength and endurance.

  His muscles burned as he powered through set after set, his breathing deep and steady. Sweat formed on his brow, but he didn't stop until his arms trembled slightly from the effort.

  After finishing his last sprint, he exhaled sharply, standing upright as a familiar rush of progression flooded through his body.

  Skill & Stat Gains:

  "Strength and stamina increased, Advanced Mobility improved."

  "You call that training?" Vorn snorted from the bed. "I’ve seen hatchlings squirm harder than that."

  Thorin wiped sweat from his brow, smirking slightly. "Then maybe you should try it."

  Vorn flicked his tail dismissively. "I’d rather nap."

  Thorin sat up on the bed, stretching his shoulders with a quiet pop. The last DHS attempt had been a windfall—Vorn was still smug about it. But if there were more abandoned hoards out there, they’d be fools not to try again.

  “We should take another dive,” Thorin said, glancing at Vorn.

  The young Wyrm lifted his head from where he had coiled on the bed. His slitted eyes gleamed with immediate greed. "Finally, you’re speaking my language."

  With an eager nod, Vorn lifted his head, his body glowing faintly as he whispered the incantation. The space in front of them, twisted before unraveling into a green portal.

  Thorin moved quickly, tying one end of a sturdy rope to the bedpost—which was nailed down securely—and fastening the other to his spear. With a final pull to test the knot, he inhaled deeply and stepped forward, crossing into the tethered bubble.

  Inside, the whiteness outside the bubble stretched infinitely, a vast nothingness beyond its edges. The bubble itself was well-organized, with neat, orderly rows of stacked items—crates, chests, and expensive-looking materials lined up as if awaiting retrieval.

  "Quit navel-gazing and get to work!" Vorn’s voice rang out from the other side. "We’re here to loot, not admire the decor!"

  Thorin rolled his eyes but obeyed, gripping his spear. This time, he aimed directly beneath him, targeting what looked like a small speck.

  He threw the spear down.

  The weapon pierced through the bubble's edge, its tip vanishing into the endless white void. Then he gently tugged the rope back, the speared bubble was slowly pulled into contact with Vorn’s DHS bubble.

  The edges warped and folded until—with a quiet pop—a circular opening formed between the two hoards.

  A new room-sized space had connected, and Thorin wasted no time climbing inside.

  He scanned the area quickly. Containers and expensive-looking materials filled the space—crates of unknown goods, boxes, and stacks of rare-looking metals.

  "Jackpot," Thorin muttered.

  He worked fast, grabbing anything that looked promising and tossing it back through the opening into Vorn’s bubble.

  Inlaid chests.

  Stacks of polished ingots—some silver, some a shimmering violet metal he didn’t recognize.

  Several crates, their contents unknown.

  Item after item flew through the opening as Thorin worked at a steady, efficient pace.

  Vorn’s excited chuffing could be heard from the other side. "Yes, yes—keep it coming!"

  Thorin kept going until he had taken all he felt was worthwhile, then double-checked the space to make sure he wasn’t missing something obvious.

  Finally, satisfied, he grabbed the rope and climbed back up, hauling himself out of both bubbles and landing back in his room.

  Vorn’s eyes gleamed greedily. "Now that… was a proper haul."

  Vorn’s eyes glinted as he inspected the loot that Thorin had retrieved, his tail flicking with impatience. After a moment of grumbling, he spoke up in his clipped manner.

  "Alright, here's what we've got, and what we should do with it. Listen up, because I’m not repeating myself!"

  Vorn's Loot Breakdown and Recommendations:

  Ornate Inlaid Chests

  Chest 1 (Luxury fabrics, trinkets, and wax seal set): "You’re not selling this junk. But these silks? We can find a tailor in town. Maybe someone could use that seal too—probably someone fancy with too much time on their hands. You could always try haggling with it."

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  Chest 2 (Coins, ring, blue liquid): "The ring’s decent. Get it appraised; maybe it’s enchanted or worth a bit more. The bottle? No idea. It’s better off in your hands than mine, but I'd say don't drink it unless you're feeling reckless."

  Crates of Goods

  Crate 1 (Exotic spices, herbs): "This might be worth some coin to someone who knows what to do with it. We’re not chefs, so find a merchant or someone who makes potions. You’d be surprised how much these things are worth to the right people."

  Crate 2 (Leather goods): "These could fetch a fair price. Or, if you’re feeling crafty, try turning them into something more useful, like armor or bags. I know you’re not exactly fashion forward, but you could give it a shot."

  Crate 3 (Crafting tools): "These could come in handy. I’m sure there’s a blacksmith in town who’ll be thrilled to buy them or even trade for something more useful. Maybe you should have a word with him."

  Polished Ingots

  10 Silver Ingots: "Nothing special. These are pretty standard. You can sell them off or melt them down for something more profitable."

  4 Violet Ingots: "These are mine, obviously. Don’t touch them. I’ll get them properly looked at later—there’s definitely something magical about these. Keep your hands off my treasures!"

  Gemstone Pouch (Pouch of assorted gems): "Look, these are low-grade gems, no real use for them unless you plan on making jewelry. They're worth something if you sell them to the right buyer, but nothing too fancy. No need to hoard them, just get them out of your hands."

  Bronze Scroll Case (Locked): "Open it later, if you want, but you’re not keeping it. That lock doesn’t look like it’s for amateurs. If you can’t open it, then maybe a locksmith can. I’d be more concerned about what’s inside."

  Wooden Boxes (Map and wax):

  Box 1 (Candles and oils): "Keep this if you want. Or use it to bribe someone who smells bad. Not that you’re any fragrance expert, but it could be useful."

  Box 2 (Map): "Now, this is interesting. I’ve had enough of wandering aimlessly. Find someone who can read it, and see if it leads to anything important. If it’s another treasure map or a quest, then we’re in business."

  Other Notes

  "The second bubble drifted away again. We’ve lost it, for now." Vorn shrugged. "It wasn’t exactly a permanent tether, so don’t worry about it. But be mindful—next time, we might get a bigger haul."

  "And don’t forget," Vorn added with a smirk, "We’ve still got that job to do in Oakhollow. You better not waste time with this!"

  Strength increased to 31.20

  Stamina increased to 33.20

  Advanced Mobility increased to 36

  After securing their newly gained goods, Vorn greedily tucked away his precious violet ingots, hissing at Thorin when he so much as glanced at them. With the haul safely stored within the DHS, they both settled in for the night.

  Morning Routine

  Thorin woke early, stretching out the stiffness from the previous night's exertions. The inn’s morning air smelled of fresh bread and roasting meat, drawing him downstairs. Vorn, still concealed under the hood, muttered irritably about the hour.

  Over breakfast—thick porridge, bread with honey, and a slab of ham—Thorin mentally planned out the day. He needed skill gains, and manual labor at the forge would offer just that.

  The Blacksmith’s Forge

  The forge was already hot when they arrived. The blacksmith, a burly man named Garrek, wasted no time putting Thorin to work.

  Hammering heated metal strengthened his arms and endurance.

  Carrying heavy ore crates taxed his stamina and mobility.

  Shaping basic fittings improved his dexterity.

  The heat and precise work developed his overall strength.

  Crafting Job Learned: Smithing

  Gathering Job Skill Learned: Identify Ore

  The work was repetitive but rewarding. Sweat poured off Thorin as he spent hours at the anvil, hammering, lifting, and refining raw metal into usable forms.

  After a full shift, Garrek grunted approval and tossed him a few copper coins—not much, but the real gain was increased stats, skills, and a job.

  [System Notification] Detected Inspect subcategory skill Identify Ore, adding to Inspect. Adjusting skill level to (7)

  Skill & Stat Gains:

  Strength: +.10 (Now 31.30)

  Dexterity: +1 (Now 28.85)

  Stamina: +.10 (Now 33.30)

  Advanced Mobility: +.50 (Now 36.50)

  As they left the forge, Vorn smirked. “You look like you got kicked by a mule.”

  Thorin wiped the sweat from his brow and rolled his shoulders. “Yeah, but I’m stronger for it. Besides, I actually earned something today.”

  Vorn gave a mocking chuckle. “Oh yes, a grand fortune. What will you buy first? A half-eaten loaf of bread?”

  Thorin shook his head with a wry grin, feeling the steady progress in his body. Now, it was time to decide their next move.

  Thorin pushed open the inn’s door, stepping inside with the crate balanced against his hip. The rich aroma of spices and dried herbs wafted into the air as he set it down on the counter. Orlan, the innkeeper, leaned forward, nostrils flaring as he took in the scents.

  “Damn,” Orlan muttered, lifting the lid. “This is good stuff.” He picked up a pinch of something green and rubbed it between his fingers. “Sage, thyme… even saffron? Where in the hells did you get this?”

  “Let’s just say it fell into my lap,” Thorin replied vaguely, folding his arms. “Figure your cook could make use of it.”

  Orlan let out a low whistle. “That she could. Problem is, I don’t have the coin to buy it outright. But I’ll make you an offer—month of room and board, plus a little coin on top.”

  Thorin considered it for a moment. A solid deal. He wouldn’t have to worry about lodging for a while, and the extra copper didn’t hurt either. “Done.”

  They shook on it, and Orlan slid five coppers across the counter before calling for the cook. As the crate was hauled away, the innkeeper smirked. “You’ve got good instincts, Blackwood. Better food means better business, and better business means I can afford to restock this kind of stuff in the future.”

  “Glad to help. Now, I’ve got some work to do.”

  Thorin stood in an open clearing just outside town, rolling his shoulders as he planted his feet firmly in the dirt. Vorn, still hidden beneath the cloak, let out an exaggerated yawn.

  "Oh great, another round of ‘watch the big idiot stab the air.’ My favorite pastime."

  “Keep talking, I’ll start practicing throws instead.”

  "You wound me," Vorn deadpanned. "Oh wait, you’d actually have to land a hit first."

  Ignoring him, Thorin set to work. He moved through spear thrusts, sweeps, parries, and spinning maneuvers, honing his footwork alongside each strike. The weapon became an extension of his body, his muscles remembering movements faster than his mind.

  Then came the fire.

  He focused, summoning the heat deep in his core, willing it into the blade. A flickering orange glow traveled down the spear's length, licking at the air. Every movement left behind a faint, smoldering trail. He kept the imbued flame active through slashes and thrusts, pushing his stamina and focus to maintain control.

  "Not bad," Vorn admitted begrudgingly. "At least you’re slightly less pathetic now."

  “Glad to have your approval.”

  Between sets, he pulled out his Appraisal skill—focusing on everything in sight. Rocks, trees, even an old, rusted horseshoe he found half-buried in the dirt. Then he turned his attention to the loot they pulled from the last hoard dive.

  One by one, he identified each chest, crate, and item.

  After using Appraisal on each individual item, Thorin gained the following details:

  Chest 1 – Luxury Fabrics & Trinkets

  Silken Garments (Good Quality) – Soft, embroidered robes and tunics, likely from a merchant's wardrobe.

  Velvet & Satin Rolls – Uncut bolts of fine fabric, deep reds, blues, and purples. Could be worth decent coin to a tailor.

  Silver Hairpins & Brooches – Delicate, decorative, and set with small gemstones.

  Wax Seal Set (Unmarked) – A silver seal stamp with four sticks of high-grade sealing wax (red, blue, black, and gold). The seal itself is blank, ready to be carved.

  Chest 2 – Coins, Ring, & Blue Liquid

  Coins: A mix of silver and copper, totaling 6 Silver, 14 Copper in value.

  Silver Ring (Enchanted, Minor Protection) – A simple band, but reinforced with minor defensive magic. It slightly dampens incoming damage.

  Vial of Azure Essence (Unstable) – Magical alchemical solution. Unknown effects, but it pulses with latent mana. Could be useful for crafting or spell enhancement.

  Crate 2 – Leather Goods

  Tanned Leather Rolls (Good Quality) – Smooth and durable, excellent for armor, boots, or bags.

  Finished Leather Gloves (Reinforced Palms) – Sturdy work gloves, likely for smithing or crafting.

  Aged Leather Satchel (Hidden Pockets) – A well-crafted shoulder bag with concealed compartments sewn inside.

  Crate 3 – Crafting Tools

  Precision Carving Kit (Engraving & Jewelry Work) – Tools designed for fine detail work, including etching and gemstone setting.

  Blacksmith’s Hammers & Tongs (Well-Worn but Serviceable) – Standard forging tools, showing use but still in good condition.

  Miner's Pick and Shovel (Good Quality) – Would be highly valued by a Miner.

  "Not bad, not bad. The silver ring is mine, obviously. The magic is faint, but still better suited for my hoard,

  I’ll graciously hold the coins for you… for now. As for that blue liquid? Well, if you grow an extra limb after handling it, don’t come crying to me."

  “I’ll be sure to test that blue liquid on you first.”

  "Oh, now you’re getting creative. I’m so proud."

  Inspect has increased to 7.50, Dexterity to 28.85,

  Agility to 29, Imbue Fire to 3.75, Advanced Mobility to 36.75, Spear to 6.00

  After hours of training, Thorin’s muscles burned, his limbs ached, and his stomach growled. There was no way in hell he was walking back into the inn covered in soot and sweat.

  At the bathhouse, he scrubbed away the grime of the day while Vorn made sarcastic commentary from his hiding spot.

  "It’s a miracle, the beast learns hygiene."

  Back at the inn, the meal was noticeably better. The cook had already put the spices to use, and the stew actually had flavor this time. As Thorin dug in, Orlan gave him a knowing look.

  “Told you it’d be a good trade,” the innkeeper said, leaning on the counter. “This is just the start.”

  Thorin just nodded, focused on his food. One month of room and board secured. Another day of training done.

  As the morning sun stretched across the horizon, Thorin left the inn and made his way into the countryside, intent on testing his new Identify Ore skill. He scanned the rocky terrain, occasionally pausing to inspect stones along the path. After several attempts, his skill triggered on a shiny, embedded mineral.

  "Looks like tin," he muttered, tightening his grip on the miner's pick. He donned his leather gloves, braced himself, and struck the stone. A few solid swings later, a small chunk of tin ore broke free.

  [Acquired Tin Ore]

  [New Gathering Job Acquired: Miner]

  "Well, look at that! Congratulations, pebble-puncher," Vorn quipped from under Thorin’s hood.

  Ignoring the wyrm's commentary, Thorin pressed on, following the terrain for more deposits. His patience paid off when he came across a small bedrock mound, rich with the same shiny metal. He ran his hands along the exposed ore vein, nodding in satisfaction.

  "Now we're talking."

  Thorin adjusted his grip on the miner’s pick and struck the vein with steady, measured swings. Each impact sent vibrations up his arms, but he powered through, chipping away at the bedrock and exposing more of the tin ore. The rhythmic clang of metal on stone echoed through the countryside as he worked.

  "At this rate, you'll have a proper hole to live in, like the filthy pebble-puncher you are," Vorn remarked dryly.

  Thorin grunted, wiping sweat from his brow. “Least I’ll have resources. You want a hoard or not?”

  Vorn gave a slow, exaggerated nod. "Fair point. Mine faster, then."

  As Thorin continued mining, the tin vein led deeper into the bedrock mound. He followed it, breaking through layers of rock and unearthing larger chunks of ore. Each successful extraction solidified his skill, making the process smoother.

  The deeper he went, the richer the vein seemed. “This could be a decent haul,” he muttered, tossing another tin chunk into his growing pile.

  "Oh yes, a mighty hoard of… base metal," Vorn said with mock reverence. "Truly, we are destined for greatness."

  Thorin smirked and kept mining.

  Thorin steadied himself as he continued his work, DHS active to throw the waste granite stones, and the ores into. He’d carved a steep shaft—now 4 feet down along the vein—each precise swing of his miner's pick echoing in the confined space.

  "Not too shabby, for a roughneck," Vorn quipped from his hidden perch, the familiar edge in his voice laced with reluctant approval.

  Thorin paused to wipe the sweat from his brow and took a quick mental inventory. "Mining is up by 2 points, and my Inspects skill jumped by 3.20 points.

  He adjusted his grip on the pick, feeling the improvements in his skill with each strike along the tin vein. The surrounding rock firm in place, allowing him to focus solely on his task.

  With each careful, controlled hit, Thorin made steady progress down the steep shaft, his determination as unyielding as the rock itself.

  Thorin's pick rang out steadily as he chipped away another four feet into the bedrock. The familiar tin vein soon veered sharply to the right, its course turning to a shallower descent. As he followed this new angle, his keen eye—enhanced by his improved Identify Ore skill—spotted something different: a glimmer of dark, metallic Wolframite intermingled with patches of copper embedded in the stone.

  "Looks like the vein's got company now," Thorin murmured to himself, carefully swinging his pick. The combination of minerals hinted at a richer deposit. For another four feet, he worked diligently along this branching path, extracting chunks of Tin, Wolframite, and copper ore, each hit a rhythmic echo in the still underground chamber.

  As the sky above began to darken with the late afternoon, Thorin decided it was time to call it a day. He packed up his newly gathered ores and started his ascent back to the surface.

  On the winding road back to town, as the last light of day faded, Thorin adjusted his grip on his pack. Vorn, coiled lazily on Thorin’s shoulder, broke the silence.

  "Not bad for a day's work, eh? You’ve really dug deep today." Vorn said with his characteristic sardonic tone.

  Thorin smiled, rubbing his calloused hands together. "Yeah, the ore identification's sharper now figured out deposits I’d never have noticed before. And I’m feeling it in my muscles, too."

  Vorn raised an eyebrow. "You mean aside from your usual brawn? How much of a difference are we talking about?"

  "Not much, maybe a tenth of a point," Thorin replied, checking his internal logs. "Strength's up by 0.20, Stamina by 0.20, and even my Dexterity got a little boost—another 0.20. It’s incremental, but it’s progress."

  Vorn snorted lightly. "Tiny gains, but at least you're not just flailing around. Every little bit counts if you’re planning on turning into something more than a glorified mount."

  "Exactly," Thorin agreed, today proved there's more than tin in these rocks—and a bit of hard work always pays off."

  With the conversation winding down, Thorin quickened his pace toward the town, the promise of a warm bath and a hearty meal at the inn spurring him on as the last rays of sunlight faded into the evening.

  End of Chapter Stats – Thorin Blackwood

  Level: 6 (50/500 XP)

  Coin: 6 Silver, 26 Copper, 5 Tin

  Stats:

  Constitution: 9.25 (462Health)

  Strength: 31.40

  Dexterity: 30.05

  Agility: 29

  Stamina: 33.40

  Mana (MP): 233

  Intelligence: 5.10

  Skills & Abilities:

  Inspect: 22

  Imbue Fire: 4.25

  Cure Minor Wounds: 2

  Mining: 10

  Advanced Mobility: 36.75

  Armor Piercing: 2.80

  Throwing Skill: 30.15

  Spear Combat: 6.50

  Appraisal: 4.50

  Polyglot: 2

  Gathered Materials:

  Tin Ore: 48

  Copper Ore: 16

  Wolframite Ore: 16