Authors: Aleron Kong
Tags: #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #science fiction, #adventure, #Cyberpunk
“Hmmmm,” Richter said, “So if we could figure out a different way to make the potion out of common ingredients…”
“Then we not only could use the potions for the village, but we could also sell them and break the guild’s monopoly. It would make you a fortune.”
Richter nodded in new appreciation of the Philosopher’s Cauldron.
Beyan continued, “Of course, the transmutation properties are why many truly covet such an item?”
Richter looked at him confused again.
Giving a long suffering sigh, Beyan said loudly and slowly, “TRANS-MU-TAY-TION. It means turning one substance into another. Often, a given area may be rich in one resource and poor in another. A Philosopher’s Cauldron fixes that. If you were lacking in say, powdered crystal, a certain amount of another resource could be used to make it.”
Richter closed his eyes and did his silent mantra, ‘Dooo NOT slap the annoying little man. Dooo NOT slap the annoying little man.’ It took so long this time that Krom said, “Uhhhh, milord. You are just standing there.”
Taking one final deep breath, Richter opened his eyes at look at his smith, “Thanks man. Yeah, I went somewhere for a moment. Okay, Beyan. Can the Philosopher’s Cauldron do anything else?”
“I’m sure it can, but I have never seen one before. I suppose now I never will.” Beyan looked around at the Forge again, then gave a
pfft
of dismissal and walked out. Richter looked after the irritating man, shaking his head.
Richter was conflicted because the gnome actually made a strong argument for building the Cauldron. Right now though, Beyan was the highest level Alchemist in the village, and Richter just didn’t trust or like him. While another Legendary Object that could solve supply issues sounded great, it would still just be an object. He would need someone to run it and as of now, the prickly gnome was not someone he would trust with that power. Krom was LISTED as being a loyal person. Richter didn’t know exactly how much faith he could put into the fact that Krom was now quote unquote ‘loyal,’ but he also got a good feeling from the dwarf. He shook his head again, maybe he would learn more about the gnome once they had battled together. He put it out of his mind. Besides, he thought with a grin, he had some crazy kool stuff to do!
Richter looked at Krom, “Okay let’s try learning an enchantment? How do we proceed?”
“THIS I do know,” the dwarf said excitedly. “Every smith worth the name dreams of using a Magic Forge. It is as simple as making weapons or armor on the forge. The higher the quality of arms or armor made the greater the chance of learning an enchantment. That’s one of the problems with paying to use a Magic Forge. One day is barely sufficient to forge a higher level sword or cuirass. That will not be a problem here though!”
“That’s it?” Richter asked.
“Well, that, and you would need to give me permission, milord.”
Richter stared for a moment, “So, you can only use it if I allow it?”
Krom nodded, “That’s right, yer Lordship. I don’t know how permission is given, but an old master smith once told me about the time that he used a Magic Forge. It was in Rione. He had been given a boon by the King and was allowed to use the Inferno Forge. He told me the owner of the Forge just held his hand, and they both placed their other hands on the anvil.”
Cocking his head to the side and shrugging, Richter reached out towards Krom. The dwarf stared at it for a second, then with a slight twist to his face took the offered hand. Some of the other dwarves oooohed and aaaahed in the background and Richter was pretty sure one said, “Does he smell pretty Krom?”
The village’s official smith glared back at his compatriots. Richter looked at the gruff dwarf with a smile on his face. With a slightly effeminate tone of voice he said, “Eh, just ignore them Kromy.” Krom turned his glare towards Richter, but in light of the fact that he was about to achieve one of his life’s desires, he decided to let the teasing go. When Richter tried to interlace their fingers together though, the smith issued a roar of indignation. He decided to quit torturing Krom and instead just put a hand on the anvil and
waited
for Krom to do the same. Once they had completed the circuit, a prompt appeared.
As creator of the Forge of Heavens, you have sole discretion as to who can access the properties of your Legendary Object. Would you like to allow,
Krom,
the ability to learn enchantments from the Forge of Heavens? Yes or No?
Richter selected, “Yes.” Another prompt then asked for the duration of Krom’s access. Richter shrugged and thought to himself, I don’t know. I guess as long as he stays loyal.
Surprisingly, that was enough.
Krom, the Smith of the Mist Village,
is given access to the Forge of Heavens as long as his relationship to you is loyal or better.
Krom had apparently been given a similar prompt because he turned to Richter, letting go of his hand. He then bowed his head and placed a closed fist over his heart. He said the same words he had spoken when he had pledged fealty to Richter, “If ye maintain faith with me, I shall never break faith with you. Thank you for granting me this honor, my Lord.”
Richter was once again taken aback by the commitment he heard in the dwarf’s voice. The idea that he would have men and women not only follow him, but pledge their loyalty to him was insane in some ways. Less than a few months ago, all he had thought about was getting laid, passing his classes and getting some epic gaming done. He shook off the remembrances of the past though, and looked at Krom with the same gravity, “I again accept your fealty. Serve me well and I swear that as I rise, you will rise as well.” The dwarf picked his head up and thanked him again.
Richter couldn’t resist one last dig though, “I liked your soft hands, boo.”
Rather than getting all riled up again like Richter expected, Krom instead gave him an evil little smile, “I seem to remember ye have a soft skull. Would ye like to head butt again?”
Richter coughed and took a step back, “Ahhh, no. That won’t be necessary.” The last time he had tried that, two things had happened. Krom had laughed his head off and he had suffered a concussion. Best not to repeat that particular series of events. Having your ass beat regularly in front of your own villagers really didn’t go with the overall vibe of being a badass Master of ancient powers.
The question was, what to do about the Elixir of Luck? Richter really wanted to put more enchantments into the Forge, but he didn’t have that many enchanted items, and they probably cost a mint. His arrowheads alone had cost him a precious gem. He needed to maximize his chances of the enchantments being absorbed. That meant using the elixir, unless he could learn another way to increase the Forge’s retention rate. On the other hand, if Beyan was right, he didn’t want to waste the chance to make more of the high level alchemical concoction.
Richter sighed. He had decided to at least try and learn more about the elixir. Like the man said, ‘Teach a man to fish, and he will eat for a day, but stop teaching grown men to fish. They sound lazy and should have learned this when they were kids. Also, real men eat beef.’ With that little nugget of wisdom guiding his way, he put the elixir back into his Bag.
He turned to Krom, “That’s it for now.” Krom looked a bit disappointed, which was actually a bit disconcerting to see on the face of a man built like a short Conan the Barbarian. Richter pressed on anyway, “I know how annoying you must find Beyan, because he irritates me too, but he might be right. Work on these enchantments for now and see if you can learn them. Let me know if you have any luck.”
Krom nodded, “I understand, milord. I got carried away with wanting as many enchantments as ye could give. Just the chance to work on a Magic Forge now, though,” the dwarf’s smile was ear to ear, “well that’s enough to give any dwarf a tingle in his dingle!”
Richter just looked at him, “That’s great Krom. Thanks for sharing.”
Krom kept up his manic grin while he nodded again. Then he walked over to grab an ingot of high steel and a hammer, eager to forge his first weapon.
The other dwarves walked over and one spoke up, “What about us, milord? Will we be given leave to learn the enchantments?” They all looked at Richter with hopeful and expectant gazes.
Richter had thought about this and had decided to take a firm line. “Sir dwarves, I appreciate your time and help, but currently all we have is a contractual arrangement. You are paid for your work and time. I also provide food and shelter. I truly hope that at the end of the year you decide to stay in the Mist Village, but until you show me more than just the loyalty of an employee, you will not be given access to the Forge’s powers.” Krom had walked back over and was standing by him. Richter clapped him on the shoulder and the dwarf stood taller, “Krom has made a choice and pledged his fealty. I
know
that he is loyal. Follow his example, and you will find yourself able to learn the enchantments. Until then, make sure you follow his instructions. Where the Forge of Heavens is concerned, after me, Krom’s word is law.”
One of the dwarves took a half step forward, anger evident on his face. In response, Krom took a full step forward, the hammer held purposefully in his hand. The other dwarves stood back to see how things would play out. Richter stood in place as well, albeit with one hand on his dagger and a spell at the ready with the other. He had just drawn a line in the sand. If Krom was going to maintain order on his behalf, the dwarf needed to be able to handle issues like this.
“Ye have something to say Ardrim?” Krom asked in a low voice.
The angry dwarf stood up to his full height, but didn’t close any more of the distance between himself and Krom, “We should all be able to use the Forge. Who are you to keep us from it?”
Krom smiled with no real mirth, “I am the Smith of the Mist Village. I am the one who Lord Richter has put his trust in. I am in charge here, and I am the one who will pound those facts into your head if your ears aren’t working.”
The two dwarves stared at each other for a while longer, but Ardrim backed down and gave a short angry bow of his head.
“I don’t want to have to talk about this again,” Krom said. “Now go help the others in the mines. I’ve seen enough of you today!”
Ardrim walked off muttering angrily to himself in the direction of the iron mine. Now that the battle of wills had concluded, the other dwarves walked over and expressed their acquiescence to Richter’s terms. They expressed their happiness to be in the village making it clear that Ardrim had spoken only for himself. They went back to their previous tasks.
“What was that all about,” Richter asked his smith. “I didn’t think they would be happy with my decision, but that seemed like an extreme reaction.”
“Bah,” Krom said. He hawked some spit in his mouth before looking around and realizing that it would almost be sacrilege to mar the floor of the Forge of Heavens. He walked over to the edge of the black stone floor and spit outside before continuing. “That bastard always has something to say. Some complaint about this or that. It’s no surprise really, considering he’s from the Bone Crusher clan.”
Richter looked at him with a questioning expression.
“Ah, ye wouldn’t be knowing about the way things work in the mountains. Under the mountains are a few large dwarf kingdoms, but above ground, the dwarves live in mostly tribes and clans. We will fight together against a common threat and some will trade, but that be as far the clans normally get along. It not be unheard of for blood feuds and small skirmishes to pop up. The Bone Crusher clan be one of the worst in that way. If ye ask me, the blood of the duergar runs deep through their veins.”
Richter felt completely vindicated about his decision after Ardrim’s reaction. “Do you need me to do anything about this,” he asked Krom.
The burly dwarf gave a laugh, “Naw, I can handle a Bone Crusher. I be a Red Stone, and there is no dwarf above or below the mountain tougher than us!”
Richter laughed back, “That’s what I want to hear!”
Krom looked Richter over, “I hope you don’t mind me saying, yer Lordship, but some of your arms and armor are looking the worse for wear,”
Richter had been about to ask Krom more about the dwarf culture. Hisako had been clear that he needed to enlist their aid. Perhaps now was not the best time though, he did have other things to do. Richter looked down at his armor and couldn’t deny the dwarf’s words. “I know. That dungeon was not easy. I’ll have to talk to Hisako about repairing the armor when she comes back.”
“Or you could just give it to me now,” Krom said in an offhand manner.
Richter looked at him confused, “I thought you couldn’t repair this type of armor.”
Krom laughed again, “That was then! We have the Forge of Heavens now! Do ye really think that some little woodsfolk could do more with armor than a dwarf with a Magic Forge?! Leave the armor with me and I’ll have it back good as new.”
Well that’s certainly convenient, Richter thought. He had Krom help him while he removed his armor, and stood in just his clothes for the first time in what felt like forever. Taking off the green sprite armor seemed to free all of the accumulated funk that had been percolating underneath. Even Krom wrinkled his nose.
“That bad, huh?” Richter asked.
“Well the good news is, we could use that stink to burn some warts off the pigs.”
“Har-de-har-har,” Richter said. A bath was now on his list of errands now though. He handed over his high steel longsword along with the armor.
Krom took the sword, but shook his head when Richter asked about repairing the glass dagger. Apparently the secret for working that material was closely guarded by islanders who lived south of the forest, and the Forge, though wondrous, could not teach Krom new smelting techniques. Richter looked at the dagger in regret. It had served him well and the high durability had come in handy. After all the wear and tear though, it had barely half its original damage potential. He would need a replacement.