True Smithing: A Crafting LitRPG Series

by Jared Mandani

  A sly grin took over Hephaestus’ strong features. “Lady, I told you. I’ve seen enough.”

  “Oh?”

  “Get me the permits, I’ll get materials.”

  “Gotcha, chief! One thing though.”

  “Hm?”

  “How many permits do you need?”

  “Pardon?”

  “One temporary permit per item, that’s the rule.”

  “Damn those bloody rules! Fine, how many pieces can I handcraft?”

  “Hmm, well, you can equip a fair number of crap on you—helmet, pauldrons, breastplate, necklace, cape, gloves, greaves, and boots—as well as having your main and off hands, and a ring on each.”

  “Hm, so that makes it twelve slots.” He paused, thinking for a moment before saying “Can you get me eleven permits?”

  When he finished asking, she burst into laughter. “You must be kiddin’ man! At most I can get you five of the damn things!”

  Hephaestus sighed, reconsidering his calculations. Five permits meant five items. He had to decide wisely on what he would craft. After thinking on Rothmund’s fighting style, the weaknesses on his weapon and armor, and his own level of combat skill, he made his choice. He had one final question. “How do you add bonuses to handcrafted items? A smith called Angus told me you need to use magic.”

  “Ah,” she said, “well, that’s partly true, for legendary items, and below. Uniques are, well, unique on the fact that you get to choose their bonuses.”

  “No shit?”

  “Mhm. So better think about how you’re going to go about this business, Hephy.”

  “Altara?”

  “Yea?”

  “Stop calling me that. Besides, I told you, I’ve seen enough.”

  “Sure thing, Hephy!” she joked, “sure thing.”

  ***

  “Whose forge is this?” Hephaestus asked.

  “It doesn’t matter. I got you the permits, the forge, and the tools. You’ve got the materials?”

  “Mhm.” Hephaestus had gone into the marketplace, looking for the necessary ingredients to craft his weapons and armor. He had sold his unique dagger and every other piece of loot he had, as they would be more useful to him as money for purchasing materials. He found multiple metals he knew nothing about, things such as mithril, adamantinum, orichalcum, auricuprium, and other things he would, in time, come to learn about. For now, he focused on what he knew by heart: Solid steel.

  He had chosen to eschew the space’s automated system of using X iron ingots to make Y item, going instead for real-world metrics. According to the measurements the game offered, each iron ingot weighed ten kilograms. He chose to purchase five, as they were much more than enough for what he intended; Hephaestus also purchased coal dust, a one kilogram bag was twice as much as he needed. At a tannery, he purchased boiled elk leather, and twine.

  After hearing about his purchases—and sales—Altara’s anger flared impressively, “And just what the hell do you think you’re goin’ to do with all of that crap!? And sellin’ your dagger, no less! You damned daft, Hephy? Goin’ after steel, damn it, Rothmund’s crap’s bloody azuraneum. Leagues beyond common damn steel!”

  “Altara,” said Hephaestus trying to calm her down, “I know what I’m doing.”

  “You know what...” she sighed in defeat, taking her hands to her face. “You know what? Do whatever the hell you want. If you get screwed, fine, I only lose five k and a bit of hope. Just... Damn it Hephaestus, you don’t fucking give one hope before razin’ it down like that!”

  For some reason, Altara’s words stung Hephaestus. He took a deep, calming breath before saying “Altara, there’s nothing I want more in this life, or any other for that matter, than to have my own forge to make weapons and armor of every kind. That’s my passion, my drive, and I will do anything, and I mean anything to make that dream come true. If you think I will squander this chance so easily, then you, my dame, misjudge me sorely.”

  Altara shrugged. “Whatever. If you fail, you can still go out, hunt, and make money to put up your little shop of dreams. If I fail,” she shrugged again, “well, how much is just a lil’ bit more?” She turned around, leaving the forge, and Hephaestus, behind.

  “Alta—”

  “Do what you must, Hephy. We have a deal. You forge your stuff, I bet on you against Rothmund. If you win, that’s great, if you lose, well, I won’t say I’m disappointed.” Saying that, she left.

  Hephaestus felt hurt. Though he had known the woman for only a short time—and they weren’t close acquaintances per se—he could still feel the sting, and unfairness of her words. Then again, he reflected, there must have been a reason behind her defensiveness; besides, why had she jumped at an opportunity arising from a complete stranger? Why had she been so keen on teaming up with him the moment she realized he could handcraft items? More specifically, when she realized he was what she had called a “manual?” Whatever the case, he felt slighted—more the reason to prove that raw money and greater numbers could not equal actual skill.

  He took another deep breath to calm himself, settling onto the one thing that could take his mind off of all his woes: Working at the forge.

  Hephaestus surveyed the tools he had to work with. He was glad to see what he thought of as a fantasy-electricity generator: a blue crystal hovering above a receptacle, clearly powering a number of machines within the forge. He saw the tools at his disposal: a power hammer, an electric kiln, an electric oven, a grindstone, a belt sander, an arc welder, a precision scale, an oven…every tool he had at his actual forge was present within this supposedly abandoned smithy. A big smile appeared on his face as he thought, when I have the money, this is the kind of forge I want! Not wanting to lose any more time, he set himself to work.

  His first priority was to make a weapon strong enough to poke through Rothmund’s defenses. His little dagger had been sufficient to best the punk in the forest, no doubt, but Rothmund was over ten times a higher level than he was, so he needed a bladed weapon, there was no doubt in him about that, as a bludgeoning arm would be unable to dent Rothmund’s armor; a sword would be able to easily penetrate the many weak spots in the champion’s armor, as well as being resistant enough to parry any blows that came his way, while remaining lightweight enough to handle in combat. He decided on a mid-seventeenth century-styled Italian longsword. A simple, elegant weapon with a distally tapered blade, perfect for both thrusting and slashing; besides, he mused, as the weapon’s ideal weight was below one and a half kilograms, it would remain light enough to swing swiftly, and precisely. His mind made up, the blacksmith put on a boiled leather apron and gloves, and started working.

  Hephaestus’ mind raced with calculations on the materials he would need to make his sword; from the moment he had set into the marketplace to search for his working materials, he had decided on using high-carbon steel, set at one-percent coal proportions, determining that it would make his weapons and armor strong enough to withstand Rothmund’s massive damage, while remaining flexible enough not to become dented.

  Within the forge, he heated an iron ingot until its white-hot point, before cutting off what he surmised was little over a tenth of its mass; after taking the resulting chunk to the scales, he was satisfied to see that he had, in fact, cut off a mass of one point three kilograms—the perfect weight for his intended weapon. More calculations came to his mind, as he tried to determine the amount of coal he’d need to produce high-carbon steel. At one percent carbon concentration, he mused, he would need to set a hundred and thirty grams of coal together with the iron to produce enough high-carbon steel. Having made up his mind about the amounts, he weighed the precise amount of coal in the scale, setting it aside before placing the iron chunk into the forge.

  He heated up the iron until he judged its temperature was above a thousand degrees, before adding in coal dust; after some time, he took out the resulting metal to the power-hammer, pounding impurities away, before foldin
g it onto itself before returning it to the forge. He repeated the process a number of times, until he was satisfied with the purity of the high-carbon steel he had produced.

  When his material was ready, he heated it once more in the forge, taking it to the hammer to elongate it to its desired length: a hundred and thirty centimeters in total, where a hundred and ten belonged to the blade alone, and the rest to the crossguard, grip, and pommel. Working on a power-hammer was much easier—and less tiring—than using a regular hammer; Hephaestus didn’t see the use of machinery as going against his passion for relative historical accuracy, as he was using the same process the ancients used, except aided with modern tools.

  Once the piece of metal reached about half its total length, he heated it once more to begin working on its distal taper; he set the blade on its side, hammering it, before turning it to the other side, until the length of metal became elongated towards a thin point. The main body of the blade was ready. He used a cutting wedge to cut the tang for the hilt. The weapon was ready to be normalized; Hephaestus heated it evenly in the forge’s furnace, evenly spreading the heat along its entirety, before heating it once more, and taking it to a vat of oil. The oil sizzled and bubbled as he slowly lowered the body of his weapon into it to quench it, making it resistant, yet flexible.

  Satisfied with his work, Hephaestus used some leftover metal to produce its crossguard and pommel. He worked on both pieces separately, opting once more for a mildly unadorned build. The quillons of the crossguard, as was his affectation, were slightly curved upwards using a curving tool together with the power-hammer, while its central block remained straight and symmetrical. Once the pommel he shaped as a pentagonal piece of metal to sit at the bottom of his sword’s grip was ready, he set himself to working on the grip itself, using a nearby belt-sander to sand a piece of hickory into the proper shape.

  With the pieces of the grip ready, he began cleaning up the blade, using the grinder to shave metal off of it until it was perfectly polished, and its edges sharpened. He decided against having a fuller on the blade, as the weight distribution had been flawlessly executed. Hephaestus assembled the pieces of the sword together, drilling holes into the crossguard, grip, and pommel, before hammering in a number of copper studs.

  The last bit of work on the sword had him cutting a thin strip off of the elk leather he had purchased, before carefully gluing it into the hickory body of the grip. Once the grip was finished, and the glue had curated, Hephaestus examined his handiwork: The longsword was perfectly balanced, making it ideal to be wielded either one, or two handed; the leather was comfortable on the fingers, providing them with an easy, strong grip. The blacksmith took the sword above his shoulder, aiming the tip downwards, assuming a high-guard stance before slashing into thin air, feeling the weight distribution of his newly made weapon. The blade danced as easily as if it was an extension of himself, gracefully changing its motion whenever Hephaestus switched his feet and pose—he went from a high-guard, to a low-guard, slashing upwards and twirling back into a middle-guard before taking a step forward into a thrust. The weapon was perfect.

  When he finished the longsword, a message appeared in his field of view:

  Weapon (Longsword) Handcrafted – 1,000 EXP

  “Holy crap!” he exclaimed, as two LEVEL UP messages appeared one after another, along with the change in his statistics:

  HP +60

  MP +60

  After his advancement, yet another menu appeared, letting him know about the item he had created:

  Handcrafted Longsword (Unnamed – golden hue)

  -unique-

  Bonus: ?

  Bonus: ?

  Bonus: ?

  Bonus: ?

  Value: 10,000 GP

  Lore: ?

  Crafted by Hephaestus

  Hephaestus noticed almost immediately that a number of fields were empty. As he realized as much, another menu appeared, directing him to choose the bonuses he wished to apply to his newly made weapon.

  As he scrolled through the possible upgrades, the choice became easily apparent. He had four bonuses to select, so he would take the ones which offered him an edge against Rothmund; when he made his selection, the weapon’s description was modified to reflect the changes:

  Handcrafted Longsword (Unnamed – golden hue)

  -unique-

  Bonus: Ignore 15% Defense

  Bonus: Ignore 15% Defense

  Bonus: Ignore 15% Defense

  Bonus: Ignore 15% Defense

  Value: 10,000 GP

  Lore: ?

  Crafted by Hephaestus

  Though he wanted to finish the weapon, it wouldn’t allow him, instructing that two more aspects were required. A name for his sword, and a bit of lore.

  “Very well,” he said out loud, “let it be named... Anduril.”

  A message came into his view. SORRY! You can’t use that name because: COPYRIGHT VIOLATION.

  “Oh for fu... Fine! Hmm,” he brought his hand to his chin thinking about what name he would choose. Unexpectedly, it came to him. “Zinnia,” he said, smiling as the description changed once more. A prompt appeared, asking him to write a bit of lore. He said “A memory of the reason why I followed my life’s passion.” When he entered the last two bits, a new attribute appeared, telling the damage the weapon caused, and finalizing its description.

  Zinnia (Longsword – golden hue)

  -unique-

  Damage: 25-35

  Bonus: Ignore 15% Defense

  Bonus: Ignore 15% Defense

  Bonus: Ignore 15% Defense

  Bonus: Ignore 15% Defense

  Value: 10,000 GP

  Lore: A memory of the reason why I followed my life’s passion.

  Crafted by Hephaestus

  When the weapon was finalized, another message appeared, informing him that he had expended a forging permit. Hephaestus was satisfied with the sword he had made for himself, knowing he wouldn’t fail. He had no time to rest, however, as he still had to craft four more pieces of gear.

  His next decision pertained what kind of armor he would produce. He knew that Rothmund was slow, lumbering even, though he managed to cause massive damage with every impact. He needed a piece of armor which allowed him to remain nimble, while managing to distribute kinetic force along its surface, so his internals weren’t crushed; furthermore, insulation was necessary to negate Rothmund’s ice-based damage. After a moment’s thought, he ruled against a full-plate armor. Though it could compensate for damage, its full metal build would cause him frostbite in no time; he needed something lightweight, supple, yet protective. Though he wasn’t keen on taking artistic liberties, he decided on a modified brigandine armor: An elk leather studded gambeson, overlaid with pieces of chainmail on the joints, and covered with thick plates of steel on the chest and abdomen; Rothmund’s strategy was based on dealing heavy damage, not on finesse; he decided on half-pauldrons—he would keep the spaulders, but would neglect the hautes beneath, as they were not necessary.

  That would make two permits used. The other three would go towards a T-visored barbute helmet, to protect his head without impairing his vision; a pair of plated, quilted leather gauntlets to insulate his fingers from the coldness of Rothmund’s weapon, and a pair of half-pauldrons for some extra protection. In all, he expected his full kit to weigh no more than twenty kilograms. The brigandine itself he calculated at ten to twelve kilograms, taking into account the bits of chainmail and the metal plates for the quilt; the pauldrons should add one and a half kilograms each; he would aim for a half kilogram for each gauntlet, and half a kilogram for his helmet.

  Hephaestus’ plan of action was decided, and he set himself to work. He repeated the steel making process, using two iron ingots and two hundred grams of coal, with the intention of producing the amount of steel he needed. Before he set himself to working the metal pieces, however, he took a piece of leather; using a piece of chalk, he traced the pattern for t
he armor’s quilt, followed by the pattern for his gloves; he repeated the process once more to form four pieces, before he traced the pattern for the under-padding of his pauldrons, and helmet. Using a pair of shears, he cut the boiled elk leather, repeating the process with another sheet, until he had the necessary pieces to shape his intended pieces. He also cut a number of leather strips of varying lengths to make straps, belts, and cords to fix his armor in place, and to evenly distribute its weight.

  He rummaged through a few containers in the forge, feeling glad to find a barrel with scraps of various clothes; he took them, confident that whoever the owner was wouldn’t miss a few pieces of scrapped material. Though he knew a gambeson would normally be made with wool and linen, he decided to use leather, as it would also be the base for his brigandine. Hephaestus spread a number of scraps along one of the pieces of leather he cut for his armor before sewing it together with another of the pieces; he repeated the process with the other two cutouts, finishing the stuffed leather parts of the gambeson. Before he put both parts together, he took a small piece of steel into the furnace, heating it until he could work it into a number of rivets. Using a cutting tool and the hammer, he split smaller chunks of metal, which he then further hammered into their desired shape. Using the piece of chalk, he traced a criss-crossed pattern on two pieces of the leather, giving him an indication of where he would place the quilting stitches, and the metal studs.

  The twine Hephaestus purchased was easily threaded through a needle, before he perforated the stuffed pieces of leather, carefully sewing over the pattern he had traced. Time lost its meaning as Hephaestus concentrated on every single stitch he made, sewing together the pieces of leather and the scraps between; when he finished, he repeated the process on the other piece, making two sets of quilted leather, cut and measured to his own sizes. Hephaestus proceeded to sew together both pieces, being extremely careful to reinforce the seams at the joints; he left two openings on either side of the gambeson, corresponding with his hips, to provide him with further mobility. When he was satisfied with his needlework, he placed a small wooden block inside the shirt’s right sleeve; after taking a handful of metal studs, he began hammering them through the leather at every point where his quilting made a cross; he went along the sleeve, towards the torso, and through the other sleeve, before turning the gambeson over and repeating the process backwards; then he turned the entire build inside-out to hammer the studs from the other side, effectively locking them in place. He returned the gambeson to its proper shape, satisfied at seeing that every stud was a semi-perfect circle on every crossing point on the armor. As it was, the armor would be serviceable enough for any real-world combat situation—it could provide resistance to cuts and slashes, and a decent amount of protection against thrusting attacks.