The Jade Mage: The Becoming: Volume 2

by William D. Latoria

  If Varnar had noticed any of it, he gave no sign. He was still inspecting the diamonds, and as far as Tartum could tell, it was the only thing that concerned him at the moment. He respected Varnar’s single mindedness when it came to his craft. He felt a kind of kinship towards the dwarf, as he compared his own devotion to his study of magic to Varnar’s obsession with his craft. Leaning back in the uncomfortable chair, Tartum waited for the dwarf to finish his inspection of the gems. After a few minutes, a grin appeared from beneath the old dwarf’s beard.

  “Ach! These gems will do fine for the work you wish me to do.” he said with a nod of satisfaction. Tartum got the distinct impression that the diamonds far exceeded the quality needed for such work, but since he wasn’t positive, he stayed quiet. As long as Varnar didn’t refuse to make the ring for him, he really didn’t care about the diamonds.

  A look of concern appeared on Varnar’s face as he readdressed Tartum about the job. “Lad, unioning is no small task you ask of me. Just how did you propose to pay for such exotic services?” he asked. This was a question Tartum had been prepared for since setting out on his journey. Removing his pack, Tartum found his bag of gemstones inside and dumped half the contents on the table. Rubies, emeralds, topaz, agates, opals, and various other less valuable gemstones poured out in a multicolored waterfall of payment. Some of the stones ran off the sides of the table and skittered across the floor. The reaction from Varnar and Oldrake was exactly what Tartum had hoped for. Both dwarves jumped out of their chairs, trying to stop the gems from falling off the table. Once they had pushed the stones into a pile in the center of the table, they moved as one tracking down each stone that had fallen. In a matter of minutes, they had recovered all of them and began sorting the pile into smaller ones organizing them by type. They moved with practiced efficiency, and soon they had sorted the gemstones into smaller piles each consisting of only one type of gem. After they were satisfied they had made no mistakes, they began sorting the smaller piles according to size, quality, and overall value. The entire time they worked, they were constantly prattling to each other in dwarven. The sound reminded Tartum of rocks being ground into dust, and after a few syllables, he gave up trying to interpret what they were saying. He assumed it had something to do with the gems they were now enraptured with.

  The speed and efficiency they worked with to sort and catalog the gems amazed him. Never had he seen such attention to detail, and to see it now made him feel ashamed for not devoting the same level of dedication to his magic. He resolved in that moment to emulate dwarven commitment to his own studies, and by doing so becoming as skilled with magic as they were with stone. His moment of resolution was cut short as Varnar cleared his throat. Looking at the table, Tartum saw the gems had been carefully arranged by size, type, quality, and value. Once again, Tartum was deeply impressed.

  “Aye, lad, this will do nicely for payment. Although, only just!” Varnar said with a grin. A thought seemed to occur to him as he gave Tartum an inquisitive look. “Tell me, Tartum, do you know what Unioning is?” he asked.

  Tartum shook his head, “I was hoping you would tell me.” he said.

  Taking a seat, Varnar seemed to consider whether or not to give him the information. After a moment, he nodded to himself and began to explain.

  “Unioning is one of the oldest and most difficult forms of crafting used by smiths today. It was originally used to make alloys, which is the process of taking two different metals and folding them into each other, creating one much more desireable metal for whatever task you require. How it works is through magic and a special technique that I will not go into the unioning process breaks the materials down into basic elements and through an infusion of magic binds those elements together in a very efficent way making the new material stronger, denser and highly sought after for the crafting of armor and weapons. However, it was soon discovered that by combining two samples of the same material through unioning, it would create an incredibly strong form of the original material. All the properties and characteristics would still be intact, but the unioned material would be ten times stronger than it was originally. It also becomes an extremely good medium for use in magical enchantments and spells, increasing the power of the enchantment or allowing powerful magics to be stored inside them that otherwise the material could not have handled. It is rare for a caster as young as you to make a request for such crafting.” Varnar said. He seemed to be appraising him now, as if this was the first time they’d met. Tartum sat in silence, trying to mimic Varnar’s stone expression when he was evaluating the diamonds. After a moment, Varnar chuckled into his beard and shook his head.

  “No where on the planet will you find ambition as potent as in the young and eager.” he said with a sigh. “I will make you your ring, mah friend. Just promise me you will be careful with whatever magics you plan to use it for. Magic be a fickle mistress that will make you feel like a God in one moment, and in the next, she’ll cut yer balls off and put them in her pocket as a trophy, leaving you alone and dying in her dust.” Varnar warned.

  Tartum couldn’t help but laugh at his analogy, “Thank you, my friend! I promise you the spell I wish to use this ring for is well within my ability.” Tartum said, trying to reassure his friend. He felt like the weight of the world had been lifted off his shoulders after Varnar agreed to craft the ring. He would have promised him anything at this point as elated as he was.

  Varnar nodded and grinned, “Now, lad, I believe there is one more thing you wished to ask me about before our business is concluded…” he said.

  His statement confused Tartum. He could tell Varnar was toying with him by the shrewd look in his eyes, but for the moment Tartum was at a loss. Shaking his head, Tartum shrugged.

  “I have no idea what you’re getting at, Varnar.” he said.

  Varnar laughed at his reply, holding out his hands, Varnar wiggled his fingers, causing the discolored skin on his hands to look like the flames were roaring along his wrists. “Are you sure about that, lad?” he asked.

  Embarrassed, Tartm stammered, “Uhh, I didn’t mean to stare, it’s just…I, I have never seen skin coloration like that. I apologize if I offened you.” he said. Tartum felt very foolish for his earlier behavior now that he knew Varnar had noticed.

  Varnar seemed to be enjoying his discomfort, and even Oldrake was smiling at the scene unfolding before him. They were both grinning at him now, as if they were both in on some kind of joke. Irritation began to push its way through his discomfort.

  Varnar laughed, “Well, lad, suffice it to say mah coloration has nothing to do with the fact I’m a dwarf. Well, not directly, anyway, it’s a side effect that occurs in those strong with runic magic. Much like the way your skin was tinted green until Thorn smashed you against the wall.” he explained. Tartum was about to explain the green tint to his skin, but before he could, Varnar held up a hand, stopping the words in their tracks.

  “I don’t know, and I don’t want to know. It is none of my business why your skin lost its hue after slamming into the wall, just like the color on the skin of my hands is none of yours! If you can get yer mind around that fact, then our friendship can continue. If not, well then our familiarity will end the moment I deliver your ring to you. What say you to that, lad?” Varnar asked. All humor had left him now, and Tartum knew he had just been delivered an ultimatium. It shocked him how quickly the dwarves could shift from one emotional extreme to another in the time it took to finish a sentence, but he had no time to dwell on it. Varnar was awaiting his response, and Tartum knew which one he must give.

  “I find that agreeable. I will not bring up the subject of your hands unless you bring it up first. I apologize again for offending you.” he said humbly.

  Varnar jumped down from his chair and clasped Tartum on the shoulder. “Fine, lad, consider it forgotten.” he said. His tone reminded him of Savall for a moment, and the memory pained him. He wondered if Savall had survived the raid on the guild, and if so, he wonde
red if he’d ever see him again. Varnar smiled at Tartum for a moment before shaking his head and giving him a shove.

  “Enough of this unmanly talk! Our business is concluded, and I have a ring to make! If I’m not mistaken, you have an interest in visiting Oldrake’s pub in the main district.” Varnar said, as he began sweeping the gems off the table and into the pockets of his apron. Tartum noticed he left a small pile of rubies on the table. He motioned to Oldrake as he headed back towards the doorway that led to the forge. “Take them, Oldrake. Consider it a finder’s fee.” he said. Without waiting for a reply, Varnar left the room, Tartum assumed, to begin working on his ring.

  Oldrake hesitated only for a moment before scooping up the rubies. While he was busy collecting his gems, Tartum walked over to the bag of coins Thorn had knocked away from him and placed them back into his pack. He decided he would try one more time to give the man his money. If he refused to accept them again, he would use the gold to fund his time with the dwarves and tell Dannurn that Thorn had accepted the payment gratefully.

  Calling Buddy to his side, once again the three of them made their way back to the wagon. Upon entering, Tartum found that the rest of the dwarves that had shared the wagon with him had left, and only one driver now remained. With a word, Oldrake dispatched the man back to his driver’s seat, and within moments, they were making their way back up the mountain. Taking a seat on the closest bench, Tartum leaned back and smiled. He felt terrific! Now that his meeting with Varnar had ended successfully, he felt like celebrating. Giving Buddy’s head a quick scratch, Tartum enjoyed the ride in silence as the wagon made its way towards the Bottom Barrel.

  CHAPTER 36

  Arriving at The Bottom Barrel, Tartum, Buddy, and Oldrake were greeted by a thunderous cheer as they exited the wagon. The unexpected explosion of sound startled Tartum and had Buddy growling at the screaming patrons outside the pub. Oldrake seemed to be expecting it as he walked confidently into the building, waving to everyone and calling out to his friends. As he got to the door, he looked back at Tartum and motioned for him to follow. Embarrassed, Tartum hastened to join his friend. What he discovered upon entering was the most literal working example of organized chaos he’d ever seen.

  Men, women, and beings from races that seemed to have no discernable gender were singing, dancing, and drinking to their heart’s content. The room practically shuddered with the merriment that thundered amongst its walls. At first Tartum thought it would be impossible to navigate past the swirling masses, but he soon discovered that all he needed to do was tap an individual on the shoulder, and they moved out of his way. He wasn’t sure if it they did it because of who he was with, how he looked, or if there was some sort of code of conduct at the pub he was unaware of, and he didn’t care. He was quickly becoming enamored with The Bottom Barrel.

  As Tartum followed Oldrake further into the pub, he did his best to take in everything. As with everything else he’d seen since his arrival, the entire pub was masterfully crafted out of stone. The tables and chairs that were scattered around the room were made of granite and quartz. They had been carved to look like various beasts, some of which he recognized, like monkeys and eagles that looked so lifelike, Tartum gave them a doubletake as he passed them. A few of the tables were in the shapes of creatures he had never even heard of before. One table in particular had been carved to look like a large bulbous monster that was spitting out jagged rock chairs for people to sit on. The artistry was amazing, but the creature depicted made his stomach turn in digust. Whatever it was, he hoped to never run into its live form.

  As they reached the back of the bar, Tartum noticed a long line of people standing in front of what looked like a huge waterfall flowing down the back wall of the building. As they got closer, he saw it was indeed a waterfall, but the liquid flowing from the wall wasn’t water, it was ale! Rich, golden ale poured from a slot along the top of the wall to come crashing down into a reservoir that had been crafted out of the stone floor to resemble the top of a large mug that emptied into a hole at the bottom of the pool. The effect was enhanced by balls of bright beetles and a series of magical decorations that perfectly simulated an enchanted waterfall one might find in the far reaches of the world.

  Tartum watched as the people waiting in line made their way towards the waterfall. The line moved relatively fast, and when it was the customer’s turn, they paid dwarves that stood near the waterfall a single gold coin. In return, the dwarves gave them a tankard that they held out into the flowing ale until their vessel was overflowing with the brew. At first, Tartum found the idea of drinking from the waterfall disgusting. He couldn’t help but imagine how many people had spit or thrown up into the waterfall at some point since its foundation. His concerns were quickly quelled, as he watched a particularly drunken dwarf purge the contents of his stomach all over the floor, very close to where the reservoir was. The people near the sick dwarf jumped out of the way, as two of the pub’s bouncers went over to the dwarf and ejected him from the building. Tartum watched as the puddle of bile began to run towards the waterfall, and he cringed just as it looked like it was about to plunge into the falls, contaminating the ale. At the last moment, a magical barrier sprang up around the falls, sending a bolt of pink energy into the vomit that caused it to immediately dissolve into a mist that the magic from the barrier transformed into a pink outline of a bird that tweeted a few times before flying outside and dissipating into nothingness. This resulted in boisterous applause, as people began to cheer for more of the waterfall’s magic. Laughing, Tartum shook his head in amusement; he was truly impressed by just how clever the dwarves were with their magic. Even if they wouldn’t teach him their runes, he found he was learning a lot on the applications of magic just by experiencing the dwarven society.

  Passing the waterfall, Oldrake led them to a metal door that was guarded by one of the largest and meanest dwarves Tartum had ever seen. All of the male dwarves Tartum had seen were short, well muscled, and friendly to varying degrees. The dwarf that stood before him now was about five feet tall, scowling, and was easily one hundred pounds heavier that any other dwarf he had encountered. The muscles rippling all over the dwarf’s shirtless form made him almost look ridiculous, and to accentuate the fact, he kept flexing his muscles randomly as if to intimidate him. Tartum hated to admit it was working, even Buddy was watching the large dwarf warily. The arrogance of this new dwarf knew no bounds as he began treating Oldrake with a disrespect Tartum thought was a bit much for a dwarf of such status as he.

  They began to speak in dwarven, and as far as Tartum could tell the big dwarf seemed to be bullying Oldrake. The thought got his dander up, and Tartum began debating whether or not to open himself to the magic, just in case he decided to teach this bigheaded dwarf some manners. The dwarf was huge to be certain, but Tartum had never known muscle to be strong enough to withstand his spells. As if the big dwarf could read his thoughts, the dwarf sneered at Tartum as he continued his arguement with Oldrake. Refusing to be intimidated by this thug, Tartum opened himself to the magic and allowed his anger to flow freely inside him. They began staring daggers at each other while the conversation went on. Eventually, even Buddy began to snarl at the dwarf.

  Just as Tartum was sure sparks were about to fly, the metal door behind the big dwarf swung open and a very old, very drunk looking dwarf came bursting out. He stumbled over to Oldrake and embraced him in a very warm hug. The old dwarf then spun around to face the large dwarf that stood guard at the door he had just come through. The big dwarf had lost all interest in Tartum and now seemed to be trying to explain himself to the older dwarf. Whatever he said must not have been smart, because the old dwarf puched the larger one so hard in the face that the big dwarf went sliding across the floor before slamming into a set of stone chairs. When he stopped, it was clear he was either unconscious or dead. Either was a possibility, given how still the dwarf now lay. Tartum couldn’t help but smirk as the old dwarf struck the over confident guard. As he
returned his attention to the old dwarf, he saw that the new arrival had fixed him with the same drunken stare he had given the guard before knocking him across the room. Buddy saw it too and was baring his teeth at the dwarf from behind him. Tartum wasn’t sure what was going on or who the old dwarf was, but he would be damned if he was going to let the old violent dwarf get close enough to hit him.

  He was reaching for his spell components when Oldrake’s voice cut through the stand off.

  “Bah! Both of ye stop, now! Tartum! This be me father, Quaray Bottombarrel. Father, I’d like ye to meet Tartum Fuin of Yucoke.” he said. Tartum could hear the uneasiness in Oldrake’s voice as he made the introductions. The drunken look of violence was still on his father’s face, which Tartum took to mean either his father didn’t understand what his son had just said, or he didn’t care. With all the stealth he had at his command, Tartum slipped his fingers into a pouch and pulled out a spider’s foot. He didn’t want to kill the old dwarf, it wouldn’t do to splatter the owner of the bar all over the walls, afterall, but he didn’t want to end up like the door guard either. They stood there staring at each other for a long time. The pub had gone quiet after Quaray punched the door guard across the room and now all eyes were on them. Everyone seemed to be interested in how this impasse was going to play out. With his senses heightened by the magic coursing through his veins, Tartum was the first to notice movement from nearby.