Accidental Champion Boxed Set

by Jamie Davis

  There was no way she could afford passage on a ship with what she had on her, and Cari was at a loss for what to do next. She didn’t know anyone in this town and had no resources at all to build upon in order to earn her passage to Tandon. She supposed she could try to make the passage overland, but she had no idea what that entailed or if she was equipped to make any sort of protracted overland journey.

  A thought popped into her head. Her previous supposition wasn’t entirely true. She did know one person in town. The question was, would Grandma Gerald help her out, and how would she even find her in a town of several thousand people?

  All she knew was Granny’s son-in-law owned a blacksmith shop near the Baron’s castle. The castle was easy enough to see, sitting on the opposite side of the harbor overlooking a point of land that jutted out and created the inlet sheltering the ships below. There couldn’t be that many smiths in a town the size of this one.

  Cari folded the message from Liam in half twice until it was small enough to fit in her belt pouch and slipped it inside. She looked up the hill at the castle and took a deep breath.

  “Alright, Cari. You’ve got no one but yourself to rely on here. It’s time to go and find a way to make this work. You’ve got to get to Tandon.”

  Cari started up the street towards the castle, navigating her way in its general direction. She had to make several twists and turns as she headed up the hill towards the far end of town. She was determined in her purpose. Cari would find Grandma Gerald again and, with the old woman’s help, work out a way to earn enough money to buy passage to Tandon.

  Quest accepted: Earn passage to Tandon.

  Chapter 20

  It took several tries and backtracking from two dead-end streets before Cari found the correct combination of roads that wound around the harbor inlet and led to the castle. By the time she located the right street and started looking for the blacksmith shop Granny had mentioned, it was beginning to get dark. Luckily for her, she didn’t have to look far.

  Cari soon heard the sound of pounding steel on steel off to her left as she walked along. Following the sound, she discovered an alley leading back to a large open building with a stone fire pit beneath a chimney jutting up through the roof. The open forge generated enough heat that she felt the temperature rise as soon as she was within thirty feet of the glowing bed of coals.

  A tall, broad-shouldered man stood with his back to her, swinging his hammer down at a bar of glowing metal lying on the anvil in front of him. A boy of about twelve stood nearby, holding a rope attached to a giant bellows affixed to the side of the fire pit. As the smith returned the bar of metal to the coals, he nodded at the boy, who pulled down on the rope, squeezing the opposing sides of the bellows together and blowing fresh air into the forge. The coals glowed white as the flow of oxygen fed the fire, superheating the metal bar under the blacksmith’s watchful eye.

  The boy tugged on the rope three more times until the smith nodded again and lifted the bar from the forge. He laid it back on his anvil. The metal now glowed with the same white heat of the forge’s coals, and he began pounding on it again in smooth measured strokes as he shaped the bar, stretching it out while he flattened it.

  It took her a moment before she realized he was crafting a sword. He returned what must be a high-quality carbon steel blade to the forge and looked up at the boy again. The child wasn’t paying attention to the smith, though. Distracted by her arrival, the apprentice was gazing at her, not his master.

  Seeking the distraction that had yanked his apprentice’s attention from his work, the smith turned around and spotted Cari standing behind him.

  “Excuse me, miss, I didn’t know you were standing there. Do you need something, perhaps a look at your blade’s edge? My son here is very good at sharpening fine blades on our wheel if you’d like.”

  Cari shook her head. Her hardened, special steel alloy blade rarely needed sharpening, even after the battle conditions she’d tested it with over the last two weeks.

  “I’m not here for sharpening services. I was looking for someone and hoped you could help me.”

  “I’ll try,” the smith said. He walked to a bucket, lifted a ladle to take a sip of water, and poured the remainder over his head to wash the sweat away. “Who are you looking for?”

  “Do you know Grandma Gerald by any chance?”

  “Yes, she’s my wife’s mother. Why? Is everything alright?”

  “Oh, yes, she’s fine. My name is Cari and we traveled together here to Morton Creek. She left me a few hours ago on her way to your home for a visit. I assume she’s already there.”

  “What can I do for you, then? Did you forget something in her buggy?”

  “This is a little embarrassing, but I am having some trouble and hoped Granny might be able to help me out. She’s the only person I know in town, and I really could use a friend right now.”

  Cari struggled not to cry. Heroes in the stories never cried, and she was determined not to be the first. She could imagine the way the bards would play that up fifty years from now if anyone ever wrote a tale about her as they had with her father. “The Tears of Crying Cari,” they’d call it.

  The thought of it actually made her chuckle and brought a smile to her face. It reminded her she wasn’t the sort to hold a pity party for herself.

  The smith must’ve noticed the war of emotions playing across her face because he waited until she met his eyes again before he spoke.

  “Don’t worry, Miss Cari. If you were kind enough to keep Granny company on her way here to visit us, then of course, we’ll try to help you. My son and I will be happy to take you there, only we are backed up on an order of swords for the Baron, and we have to finish two more blade blanks before tomorrow so we can have the full order done by the end of the week.”

  “I understand. I’m not a smith but I know my way around a sword. Is there something I can do to help you and your son?”

  “I’m Heath Fletcher, and this is my son Sterling. Let me think for a second and see if there’s something you might help with.”

  “We have hilts to assemble, father. Could she help with that?”

  Heath snapped his fingers. “An excellent idea, son. Cari, you look like you understand the heft of a blade and how balanced it must be. Would you be able to assemble the hilts and add lead shot to the pommel blanks until the balance for each blade is right? Then all I have to do is melt and pour the proper amount to fill them tomorrow and finish the hilts with leather wrapping for the grips.”

  Cari smiled. This was something she’d enjoy doing. She loved handling swords of all types. It looked as though they were making sabers, and she’d trained on them with her sword instructor at home.

  “I’d be happy to help out. If Sterling can get me started, I’m sure I’ll be able to get the job done for you.”

  “You heard her, boy. Show her how it’s done, and we might get out of here before midnight tonight.”

  Sterling smiled at the thought of finishing early, and Cari followed him to a table where he demonstrated how to fit the two wooden halves of the handle over the tang extending from the blade. Then he showed her various-sized lead rings to fit over the end and finally a hollow steel cap for the pommel that she could fill with small lead balls until the balance was right for the weight of the blade.

  “You try one while I watch,” Sterling said.

  Cari started assembling the pieces under the boy’s watchful eye, and soon she was holding out the blade, tilting the tip forward and side to side, testing the balance. The steel pommel cap wedged over the wooden grip tight enough not to fall off while she tested the counterweights inside. It felt just a little heavy in the hilt.

  She set the blade down and popped the cap free to remove a few ounces of the lead balls. She reassembled the hilt and pommel and hefted the sword again. It was perfect this time, and she smiled and handed it to Sterling.

  He stepped back and took a few practice swings. Even at twelve, he looked as
though he worked in a smithy. His young muscles managed the heavy saber well.

  “That is perfect, Cari. I think Father is right. You’ll be perfect for this job. Go ahead and do another. I’ll go back and help him at the forge so he can work faster.”

  Cari was happy to help, especially since she felt as if she was accomplishing something on a day full of disappointment.

  Skill acquired — Bladesmith.

  The acquisition of a new skill, along with the crafting of the hilts and pommels, took her mind off her troubles. Cari lost herself in the task until she’d completed balancing all thirty finished saber blades with their hilts and pommels. She had a huge grin on her face as she finished the job. This was satisfying work and helped center her mind.

  Heath ambled over from the forge as she laid the final blade on the table after testing it one last time. He picked up a few and tested the weight and heft of each in turn.

  “You’ve done well, Cari. And you’ve saved Sterling and me a great deal of work. Come, it’s time to go home. If you’d like, you can come back tomorrow and help some more. I can pay you, especially if it helps me get the swords completed early. The Baron will pay me a bonus for that.”

  “I’m not going anywhere anytime soon, Heath. I’d be happy to help. I like to work with swords, and it interests me to see how swords are made up close in this manner.”

  “Wonderful! It’s settled then. You can work for me until this order is finished, and if you like it, we’ll see about what you can do after that. For now, though, you’re coming home for a late supper.”

  “I’d like that very much.” Her stomach growled at the mention of food. She hadn’t eaten since the breakfast Granny had brought from the inn this morning.

  She helped them close the smithy, and then the three of them walked through the nighttime streets of Morton Creek until they reached the Fletchers’ home. It was a two-story stone cottage with a small fenced-in area containing a garden and chickens running loose. It lay only a few minutes’ walk from the smithy.

  Cari followed them through the gate, careful to close it behind her. They were just about to enter the cottage when the door opened and a woman about her mother’s age appeared, holding a toddler on her hip.

  “Oh, ho, did you bring another stray home with you, husband? Or do you think I’m the sort to let you take another wife?” Cari was about to take offense until she saw the broad grin on the woman’s face.

  Her husband had dropped to one knee. “My fair Becca, how could any woman take my heart when you already hold it close to your own where it truly belongs?”

  Becca laughed and reached out to rub her fingers through her husband’s sooty hair. “Get up, you fool, and come in here. I’ve been holding a pot warm just for you and Sterling. Tell me who your friend is?”

  “I’m Cari, Cari Dix, ma’am. I stopped by the smithy and —”

  “Cari, my dear?” Grandma Gerald must’ve heard Cari’s voice and pushed past her daughter to hug the newcomer. “What are you doing here, dear? Is everything alright?”

  “My friends had already left Morton Creek for their journey west, and I didn’t really know anyone else in town, so…”

  “Aren’t you a clever girl? Becca, this is the young lady who kept me company on the trip here.”

  “So I gather,” Becca said. “Well, come on in. There’s plenty of food and we can find room for you to sleep on the floor somewhere. I’ll not put a stranded traveler out on the street. Lord knows I wasn’t raised that way.”

  “No, you were not.” Grandma Gerald laughed. “It’s good to see your hospitality lessons took hold.”

  Cari followed everyone inside, and before long, she found herself feeling more like a long-lost family member than a guest in their home. After a dinner of roasted pork and fresh bread, they all sat by the fire, and Cari listened while Granny shared stories of Becca’s childhood. Eventually, she settled down on a pile of blankets on the floor near the fire.

  It wasn’t as soft as a real bed, but it was the closest she’d come to feeling at home since her unplanned arrival in Fantasma. Cari would never admit she missed her parents, but it soothed her to be fussed over by a mother figure. She closed her eyes and fell asleep without feeling alone in a strange world for the first time in almost two weeks.

  Chapter 21

  The sharpening wheel spun with a smooth continuous action as Cari’s foot worked the wooden pedal up and down. She held the saber’s blade at an angle on the rotating stone, running the edge across the abrasive wheel, honing it to razor sharpness.

  The work gave her a sense of satisfaction, and each new skill of sword making she’d learned over the last two weeks while laboring in the smithy added to her bladesmith level on her character stats. Cari had reached level four in that skill already, and sometimes, she’d noticed something unusual when working.

  It happened again while sharpening the current saber blade. An orange glow formed along the blade edge as it ran across the stone, darkening in color to a deep umber as she watched. The problem was, she had no idea what it meant.

  She’d asked Sterling if he could see anything unusual when it happened before. He’d stared at the blade she was enhancing and shook his head. She’d told him it was her imagination and went back to work.

  This time, instead of ignoring it, as she’d done before, Cari focused on it and tried thinking about a specific game menu while she sharpened the sword.

  Crafting Menu: Bladesmith

  Enhanced blade — damage

  Enhanced blade — speed

  Enhanced blade — durability

  Well, that was new. After selecting the speed option, Cari continued to hone the edge, paying attention to the areas highlighted by her new skill. Eventually, the entire blade adopted a slight green glow while she worked. The magic started happening before she knew it, as the steel itself transformed under the grinding wheel, thinning and elongating until a good deal of the weight had been removed.

  She had no idea where the excess metal had gone, but when she was finished, she needed to re-balance the grip and pommel. The resulting blade felt lightning-fast in her hand as she utilized it in a training routine.

  Focusing on the blade in her hand, Cari brought up its inventory listing.

  Saber of Speed — +1 to hit, +1 defense

  She smiled. If she could make magical swords like those in the stories, it would be totally awesome. Cari decided to try again with another of the pile of swords she had to hone.

  Again, she started her normal routine, working the edge of the blade with care. The orange glow returned and deepened as before. This time, she selected the “damage” option.

  The blade’s glow turned crimson, and Cari’s field of view where the blade met the spinning stone zoomed in. She could see the metal in much finer detail now, especially the beveled angle of the sharpened edge.

  There was a geometric pattern represented by various shades of red along the sword’s cutting edge. By focusing on each area in turn, Cari observed a change in the angle. Now she understood what she was seeing.

  A blade with a double bevel to it not only cut better, it stayed sharper longer between honing sessions. The glowing red showed the perfect angle for this particular piece of shaped steel. Cari set to work matching her grinding angle to the guidance given by her newfound ability.

  Once again, she created a higher-quality blade than originally planned. She checked the blade’s description in her inventory while holding it.

  Saber of Sharpness — +1 to hit, +2 damage

  A third try while activating the durability function in the new crafting menu caused the whole blade to glow blue. She used the brighter indicators as a guide once again, changing the shape and composition of the blade in subtle ways. This resulted in a much stronger blade, suitable for battering through even the toughest armor.

  Saber of Strength — +1 damage, +2 vs. armor

  Cari tried the swing and the balance of each blade again, making fine ad
justments to the grip and the pommel in light of the changes she’d wrought. When she was finished, she beamed with pride at what she’d accomplished.

  “Heath, could you come here for a second?”

  “What is it, Cari? Is there a problem with that blade?”

  Cari handed the smith the blade enhanced for speed. “Take a look at it and tell me what you think. I, uh, tried something new on it when I honed the edge.”

  Heath peered at the edge, running his thumb across it, a grin appearing on his face. The grin deepened when he took a few practice swings and then lunged forward with the saber.

  “This, this is amazing. How did you do this? It’s as if you created a new, lighter alloy from the steel I forged.”

  Cari didn’t know how to answer. She honestly didn’t understand what she’d done from a technical standpoint or how she could teach it to someone else unless…

  “I don’t know what I did, Heath. I saw something as I was sharpening it and tried to just go with the flow. Maybe if you sit down and sharpen while I watch, I can show you what I did while you do it yourself.”

  “Cari, if you can show me what you did, and I can replicate it, I’ll be able to do something no one else I know can do. This blade is like one of the swords from the legends the bards tell when they come to town.”

  “I’ll try. Sit down and pick up one of the fresh blades.”

  Heath sat on the bench in front of the sharpening wheel, picked up a saber blade from the pile next to him, and started working the pedal until the wheel spun at a steady, constant speed.

  He looked up at her, holding the blade edge just above the stone. This was the moment of truth. Either it would work a transformation like she’d been able to do or nothing would happen but the creation of a sharpened saber with normal qualities.

  “Lay the blade on the stone and kind of let your mind relax so you’re looking at it but past it at the same time. You need to find the zone.”