by Aleron Kong
“Whoa! What’s with all hubbub bub?” The dwarves stopped fighting and looked at him confused. Richter sighed. Damn colloquialisms. He tried again, “Why for art thou fighting?”
Krom immediately started talking again. Why the hell did that work, Richter thought. “These short sighted fools want to just shove the Core into any ol’ anvil!”
Richter just looked at him. When the dwarves started arguing again, in dwarvish this time, Richter held up his hand again, “Hey! Somebody tell me what the problem is.” He pointed randomly at one of the dwarves, “You, what’s the argument about?”
“Well your lordship, the Core can be combined with any anvil to make a Magic Forge. But it will combine with the highest quality metal it is touching and change the entire anvil into that metal. Thereafter, any weapons or armor made will have special traits based on the metal the Forge is made out of.”
Richter had to take a second to process that, “So you are saying that if you put gold next to the Magic Core, then you could turn an entire anvil into gold?”
“Yes, my Lord, but gold would make a horrible anvil,” one of the dwarves responded.
This guy didn’t get it. “And we can do this over and over,” he asked. Richter was already dreaming of a factory churning out gold anvils by the dozens. He was going to invent both the car and grey poupon, just so he could drive around handing it out!
“The Core can be taken out of the Magic Forge, but the anvil would return to its former metal.”
Richter sighed, he guessed that would have been too easy.
“We would also lose any levels or spells that the Forge had learned,” the dwarf continued.
“Yes,” Krom spat, “and that’s why we need to do this right. The material that is used in the anvil will convey certain properties to the weapons we make! Right now we only have common metals, and these blockheads want to waste a MAGIC CORE when we don’t have anything stronger than high steel! Even orichalum would be a better choice, but I would sooner make love to ant hill in winter than use the metal of those accursed bastards!”
“Wait,” Richter said raising a hand to hold off any more of Krom’s tirade, “what do you mean levels. The Forge could get stronger?”
Another dwarf spoke up, “That is the other reason Magic Forges are so valued. They will absorb the skill of those who work upon them. Each weapon that is made upon them and each weapon that is deconstructed on it will add to the experience of the Forge. When it has enough experience it will level,” the dwarf smiled, “and that is when the really amazing things start to happen. You see, my Lord-”
Richter held up his hand for the umpteenth time. He was too tired to get a lesson in smithing right now. He turned back to Krom, “What metals are there, and which one should we use?”
Krom’s face lost much of its animosity as he started thinking of a topic near and dear to his heart, “Well iron and steel of course. Bronze or its base metal copper is also possible, but only a blockhead or back woods tribesman would make weapons out of bronze these days. High steel can be made by combining molten steel and xanthite. Glass is stronger, but only those crazy islanders know how to forge it. Moonstone will make you a nice light armor. Quicksilver will give you something even better, though whoever could find enough quantities to make even a decent dagger is someone I would like to meet. Cobalt will make you a fine piece of medium or heavy armor, and ebony will protect you from almost anything, though you will need to be as strong as a bear and probably hung like one to if you want to move around in it. My pappy used to talk about red duranium, but I’ve only seen it once. Of course, mithril is the dream of every smith, but you might as well wish for a great dragon’s scales or adamant while you are at it.”
Richter was shocked that such a long winded and thoughtful discourse had come from the hot-tempered dwarf. It was clear that there was more to Krom than just the barroom brawler persona that the smith initially exuded. Krom wasn’t done, though.
“So if I had my wish, it would be duranium or ebony. I suppose in a pinch, quicksilver or moonstone would do, though. That’s why,” Krom’s voice regained its previous levels of derision and annoyance, “I’ll not hear about wasting the Core on high steel!”
From what Richter had heard, he agreed with his new vassal. Even though he was eager to have the Forge made and to start constructing weapons, he had always been a measure twice and cut once kind of guy. (Previous girlfriends might point out that certain Ikea desks or tables had been left a bit wobbly because he had refused to read the directions first, but that’s not the point!) Richter had a question to ask before he made his decision.
“How much metal will we need?”
Krom answered, “Well I have never done this before. The only information we have is based on fables the oldsters would tell us, but I remember is my mam telling me a story about Frederico the Axesmith.”
“Holding one globe of silver mithril,
and one sphere of red and white,
he brought the two brother orbs together,
and unleashed his hammer’s might.
The Magic Forge was created,
to manifest the Axesmith’s will,
he swore to forge to save his people,
and never just to kill.
Educational dialogue and now poetry? Richter smiled at seeing the softer side of the cantankerous dwarf. “So it needs to be the same size as the Core then,” he asked. The clockwork sphere was about the size of a large grapefruit.
“We think so, my Lord. The problem is even if you could find someone selling that much precious metal, an ingot of pure quicksilver would cost near two gold coins. Ebony at least five times as much. Also, to be completely honest, the Kingdom of Yves regulates the purchase of higher level metals. All known mines that produce them are either owned by the Kingdom, the nobles, or one of the mining guilds that wouldn’t risk breaking the law just to sell to us. Some could be bought on the black market, but you would need a high skill level tradesman just to find one.”
Metal costs that much, Richter thought incredulously. He supposed it made sense. In medieval times on Earth, it was only the upper crust that could afford to wear armor. A knight clad in full plate was literally wearing a fortune. The kingdom’s stanglehold on metal also meant only their soldiers would have access to the best gear.
One of the other dwarves piped in loudly, “That is why we should not wait around for something that we will probably never find!”
“Quit flapping your sausage wrappers,” Krom shouted back. Turning back to Richter, he asked in a respectful tone, “Can you get us a high quality metal, my Lord?”
You have been offered a Quest: The Right Tool for the Job. Your smiths are arguing over which base metal to use when making the Magic Forge. You have been put on the spot to solve the problem for the fractious dwarves. Weapons and armor made on the forge will have special properties based on the type of metal that is used. The benefit of gaining a better forge must be weighed against the difficulty of finding a higher metal and delaying the production of arms to defend your village in a dangerous world. Failing this quest will lower the regard the smiths have for you. Reward: A Magic Forge that gives better traits. Do you accept? Yes or No?
Richter thought about it for a moment, and ultimately based his decision on the boon of the Quickening. The level 2 bonus provided a 25% greater chance of finding rare resources. There was a real chance that they could find a high-quality metal in the surrounding lands. Richter knew he would always kick himself if he just took the easy path that was right in front of him, to get a quick result. If he only applied himself, he could get something so much better. It was the same reason he never paid for sex. It wasn’t really so much about being moral, as it was about believing in himself… and having good fiscal sense.
“I agree with Krom. There is a good chance that we might find what we need around here. Search the iron mine. We might discover a previously unseen vein of precious metal. Also, caref
ully go through the armory Krom. There might be weapons made of what we need. If we don’t find anything after a time, we will reach out to our trader friend in Yves and see if he can help.” Richter quailed at thinking about how much the tubby, but shrewd, trader Hafiz would charge. It didn’t’ matter. The Magic Forge was worth investing it. It had to be invested in.
The dwarves seemed comfortable with that decision, and they walked off still good-naturedly grumbling amongst themselves. Richter stared after them. Now he was getting quests from his own villagers? That possibility hadn’t really occurred to him before. In some ways, he had just viewed the village and the people now living here as macro extensions of himself, like an arm or a leg. Even though he knew that this wasn’t a game, his thinking had unknowingly shifted back to those thought patterns. He supposed it would be good to remember that each new member of his community was an individual, real and distinct.
Richter resumed his jog over to where everyone had gathered to eat. A large bonfire had been made from the wooden remnants of the longhouse, and the villagers circled it. The overall demeanor was not joyous, but neither was it depressed. The people ate and spoke quietly. Richter was pleased that he saw a few smiles here and there. He was pleasantly met by his people who made room for him to sit. He begged off, saying there was no rest for the wicked, which earned a few good-natured laughs. He piled some food on a wooden plate and made his way up to the Great Seal.
Sumiko and Gloran were sitting in a small room that had also had a table set into it. They seemed to be laughing about something, but both rose quickly at Richter’s approach. He waved them back down, futilely tell them again that things like that weren’t necessary, and then came to the reason he asked to see them. Sumiko readily agreed to teach him the spell Soul Trap.
Congratulations! You have learned the spell: Soul Trap! Binds the soul of the target to this plane, preventing passage to the beyond at the time of death. They will instead be pulled into any nearby empty soul stone you possess of appropriate size. This is a spell of Life Magic. Cost: 30 mana. Duration: 2 minutes. Range 10 feet. Cast time: 1 second. Cool down: N/A.
Richter was thankful for the new spell, but the short duration and range were not ideal. Sumiko told him that there were other spells like Soul Trap with increased stats, but his level in Life Magic was still too low to learn them. She further told him that the basic Soul Trap spell only lasted sixty seconds if learned in another school of magic besides Life and Death. Richter thanked her again and spoke to Gloran.
The high elf had already prepared several dozen low level soul stones using pieces of the marbled quartz he had found near the cliffs. Apparently it served as a better template than he had thought it would. Gloran explained that there were multiple levels of soul stones: Weak, Basic, Common, Higher, Special, Resplendant, and Absolute. The marbled quartz had made ‘basic’ soul stones when he had only been expecting ‘weak’. Each level captured higher level souls. Gloran couldn’t give him a specific breakdown of which monsters went into which category, but he did tell him that ‘resplendent’ level stones were required to capture high level angels or demons, and ‘absolute’ could capture anything.
When Richter asked if an absolute gem could capture a human or elf, Sumiko’s face tightened. She said in a scolding tone that only the most perverted magic could be used to make a gem like that. Richter took the rebuke easily, but he still thought about it. Call him cold, but he knew that at some point he would face other Chaos Seeds. If he needed to put one down, Richter wanted him to stay down.
Richter took the basic soul stones from Gloran and looked at them. None were overly large, and Richter could fit several in one hand. He had expected them to look like the original stones they were created from, but none resembled the white stone of the cliffs. Each was the color of amber and formed a perfect six sided gem. Holding them made his hand tingle. Richter pulled some gems from his Bag that he had put aside earlier. He had taken Shivona’s reaction to heart, and wouldn’t be flashing the contents of his whole chest again… not that he expected Gloran to start whispering sweet nothings into his ear and make a move, but better safe than sore. He put several jaspers, a turquoise, a topaz, and a few opals on the table. He also placed one ruby, sapphire, emerald and diamond on the table with the other gems. “What can you make these into?”
Gloran’s eyes had widened at seeing so much wealth so casually strewn in front of him, “Are you sure that you want to use all of these, my Lord?”
“Wealth should serve a purpose,” Richter told him. “The primary purpose of my wealth is to make us safer and stronger. So what can you do with the gems?”
Gloran pushed the diamond, emerald and ruby back towards Richter, “My old master told me that these can be turned into resplendent soul stones, but my skill level in enchanting is too low to make them. I can turn the sapphire into a special soul stone, and the other gems into common or higher level stones.”
“Can you have it done by the morning,” Richter asked.
“I can do it now, my Lord. It is a simple spell of Light magic. It just also has the requirement of possessing the enchanting skill.” Gloran placed his hands over the gems and murmured a few words. A green glow shone down from his palms, and the image of each gem wavered, like air over a hot desert. Each gem grew a bit larger and when the glow vanished, more amber jewels sat in their place. Gloran identified the largest as the special stone, the slightly smaller gems were higher level soul stones and the common gems were smaller still. Easy enough to figure out which was which.
“A soul will go into the smallest appropriate soul stone available. Be careful not to run out of low-level gems or a weak soul will use up a valuable higher level gem,” Gloran cautioned. Richter asked if he could turn more quartz into soul stones by the morning. The enchanter bowed his head in agreement.
Richter had one more question, “I want you to look at something else.” He reached into his Bag and pulled out the depleted Wand of Dark Bolts. He placed it in front of Gloran, and said, “I found this on one of the attackers. It doesn’t have any charges left, can you fix that?”
Gloran picked up the wand, examining it, “The procedure to recharge the wand is fairly simple. Just place a filled soul stone next to it, and will the wand to be replenished. This wand, though, is not completely empty, my Lord.”
Richter frowned and took the wand back from the enchanter. When he examined it, he saw that Gloran was right.
You have found: Wand of Dark Bolts. Attack 4-6. Durability 17/17. Item class: Uncommon. Quality: Superb. Weight 0.2 kg. Casts spell Dark Bolts. Charge 2/50.
“I don’t understand,” Richter said. “I was sure that it had zero charges when I examined it earlier.”
Gloran nodded in understanding, “The enchantment that made this wand was a ‘charged’ enchantment, my Lord. That means that unlike your armor which gives a constant bonus, the wand has a limited number of uses. After that, it just becomes a stick with a weak attack. The charges can be restored by using filled soul stones as we discussed, but it will also slowly recharge over time.”
“So if I just wait, then my enchanted items will replenish?” Gloran nodded again but warned that it could take a long, long time.
Richter thanked them and said goodnight. His muscles had started locking up from his sparring session, and he wanted nothing more than to fall asleep.
CHAPTER 15
Richter’s dreams were full of shouts of sword forms, and the pain of Yoshi correcting him when he made a mistake:
‘Forest Wind! No, left leg back!’
Crack!
‘Argh, you bastard!’
‘Cat Swatting at Mouse. I told you to find your center!’
Crack!
‘Son, of, a, Bitch!’
Richter blinked the dreams away, waking in the barracks. He thanked god for the improved healing of The Land. When he had finally laid down for the night, his body was wracked with pain from the numerous bruises he ha
d suffered while sparring. This morning though, he barely felt stiff. The villagers filled the other bunks, most still sleeping. A few spoke softly to one another, but no one had left their beds yet. At the start of the tunnel leading outside, there were three large bundles and a cloth bag. Checking the bundles, he saw the arrows he had asked Hisako to create. The sprite arrows were still the best projectiles he had encountered since coming to The Land with their +1 to damage and accuracy. The bag was full of basic soul stones. He slid the three bundles of arrows and poured the soul stones into his Bag of Holding, and then walked outside and greeted the day.
Alma had swooped down from the arches above the Great Seal and settled on his shoulders in what was becoming her customary perch. The darkness of night had just fled, and the clouds above were lit with peach and orange hues. The forest was waking up around the village, and distant animal calls could be heard. He had always enjoyed the stillness of mornings. He just stood there with his familiar and watched the sky lighten over the tree tops.
After a time, he saw three figures walking from the meadow north of the village, and the forms resolved into Sion, Yoshi and Daniella. It was time to go. Richter was wondering how to find Futen when the remnant floated along.
“How do you always seem to appear when I want you,” Richter asked.
“Because you will it, my Lord. I can sense your desire.”
Well that’s not at all creepy, Richter thought, but still, good to know.
“Take us to the quest site,” he said.
“Yes, my Lord.”
Alma rose into the air as the four adventurers started following the remnant out of the village. They went east following the foothills of the mountain above. The path was initially the same as that which Richter had taken to unlock his first power, but after an hour, Futen began to move in a more southeasterly direction. They walked in relative silence. One of the things that Richter shared with the sprites was an appreciation of nature and its beauty. After fighting a pitched battle barely a day ago, the forest’s sounds and scents were a form of spiritual healing.
