“Very well then. You two have fun.
“Thanks dad!”
“You too!”
The siblings left the forge behind, talking among themselves, and occasionally turning back towards the place. Hephaestus shook his head fondly, saying “Kids eh? A father’s pride, to be sure.”
“I couldn’t know ‘bout that, Hephy,” replied Altara, “ain’t never had no kids.”
Hephaestus shrugged. “You may one day, who knows.”
“Indeed. So, you ready for some craftin’?” she asked, changing the topic.
Hephaestus noticed, opting not to press the topic. “Ready as I’ll ever be, only need a few customers, though.”
“All in time. You got plenty o’ exposure at the arena in Baldera, I’m sure customers will come in anytime. Meanwhile,” she said, procuring another chair, and sending it towards Hephaestus, “chill out.”
The smith nodded, sitting on the chair. Silence stretched until the blacksmith said “Fancy looking place, once you remove the ash and soot.”
“I know, right?” She paused. “It was Baratus’ pride, truth be told.”
“I can see why,” replied Hephaestus, “mighty well equipped, just as any good forge should be.”
“Mhm,” Altara nodded.
“Right.”
Hephaestus began twirling his thumbs, uncertain what to ask, or how. Though he was curious about Baratus, and his past with Altara, he also knew—more now than ever—that it was a personal topic for the woman, the kind of matter people don’t talk freely about. The blacksmith crossed his legs, then leaned backwards, then forwards. Altara chuckled at the display, prompting the smith to ask “What?”
“Nothin’, nothin’.” After some time, she asked “Ever showed you my necklace?”
“Your unique item? Yes, you did,” he paused. “For a second. You removed it before I could read it.”
“That I did. It’s a touchy thing, you might have noticed.”
“I have. Baratus made it.”
“That he did, one of the last remaining pieces o’ his, actually.”
“The other one?”
“A ring.”
“Hm, and where is it?”
She chuckled, “On an asshole lordlin’s finger.”
Hephaestus whistled, “No way!”
“You bet, Hephy. Bastard not only ruined Baratus, he also made sure to keep all o’ his pieces for ‘imself.”
“Why, though? Didn’t he claim Baratus to be a hacker?”
“Well, he wasn’t, and his stuffs, well, you know how when an artist dies, ‘is stuff skyrockets in price?”
“Mhm.”
“Well, Hephy,” she sighed, “same shit. People were willin’ to pay idiotic prices for everythin’ crafted by Baratus, no matter its rarity.”
“Ah,” Hephaestus scratched his head, thinking. “Let me guess: Liberath made bank with Baratus’ goods?”
“Now you get it, Hephy.”
“Hmm.” He paused, further thinking about the situation. Something clicked in his mind, “That right, is that why you want so much gold?”
“Clever today, are we?”
Hephaestus shrugged, “Clever is too large a word, I’m merely adding two plus two.”
“And you’re doing a good job at it. Yes, Liberath has the ring, the ‘last known piece of Hacker Baratus,’ psh, bastard don’t know nothin’ about the necklace.”
“Fair enough,” Hephaestus said, “better that way, if you ask me. He strikes me as the type of guy who would do anything to get what he wants.” He paused. “What the hell is he, anyways? Other than a shitlord, why would anyone care about him?”
“Hmm, well Hephy, you gotta understand that even Alterwelt has its own bureaucracy, and there’re some, well, people in charge o’ keepin’ it aloft.”
“And I assume he is one of them?”
“Mhm. He’s an administrator. Nothin’ as important as it sounds, he’s just considered to be an ‘exemplary player.’”
“Exemplary my arse.”
“Hah, couldn’t know, Hephy!”
Hephaestus could feel a light rush of heat into his face. “Right. What’s so exemplary ‘bout him anyways?”
“In theory, that he’s well-behaved and has a high charisma stat.”
“Uhuh, and in practice?”
“It means he has a rich uncle or somethin’ high up the ranks. A dev or somethin’ who let him become a lordlin’ and do whatever the hell ‘e pleases,” she shrugged, “told ya, nepotism works, no matter if you’re in the real world or a fake one.”
“Hmm, that just doesn’t seem right.”
“How so?”
“Well,” grumbled Hephaestus, “you’d figure that being here in a virtual space, you’d not be accosted by idiots in ill-gained positions of power.”
Altara chuckled mirthlessly, “Yea, well, welcome to the club o’ people in the wrong, Hephy. Turns out that the right idiot, in the wrong place, can really screw one’s life.”
“Hm.” Hephaestus said nothing more, reclining back on his lounger. It bothered him to see that the vices of the real world could percolate into a virtual one. Then again, he thought, people are just people. And there was nothing anyone could do about that: If something could go wrong, or be made wrong, it would be. Damn Murphy and his law.
“So you wanna see it?” Altara asked, leaning forward in her chair.
“What?”
“The pendant.”
“Ah,” Hephaestus hesitated momentarily, before replying, “of course.”
Altara nodded, and the trade prompt appeared. Hephaestus accepted, seeing as Altara placed the pendant in her trading inventory. Hephaestus had the opportunity now to see the pendant in full, taking in its details, its designs and intricacies and, most importantly, the inscription he hadn’t had an opportunity to read before:
Handcrafted Amulet of the Eternal Bond (golden hue)
-unique-
Bonus: Health Points +1500
Bonus: All Attributes +10
Bonus: Damage +30
Bonus: Defense +50
Value: 80,000 GP
Description: Alastara, let this be my final legacy to you, the culmination of my efforts before anything unsavory happens to me. Know that throughout this ordeal, there is no one I would have rather had by my side, other than you. Though I may not be long for either world, know that you will always find me in the fires of a furnace, and the din of a hammer.
Crafted by Baratus
Hephaestus finished reading, further understanding why Altara was reluctant to talk about Baratus. He admitted to himself that such talks were awkward to him to a degree. Working metal was a more or less exact science, a methodical procedure with little room for error; talking to someone about the things making them vulnerable, however, was a wholly different matter: There was ample room for saying something unwittingly idiotic, dealing a lot of damage. He sighed, dumbly asking “Alastara?”
She chuckled, “How observant, Hephy! Well, y’ see, I’m one of those people with a weird name; outside of here, that would be my name, closest thing I could get in ‘ere was ‘Altara.’ Baratus knew my name, though, as we met in the real world; he’s the only one in this space who knew about that.”
The underlying message wasn’t lost to him. The only one, until now, something he resolved to keep in mind. “I see, I take it then that he was important to you?”
“Bingo.”
“Hm. Well, in that case,” he said, standing up and stretching his muscles, “we’ve got to get you that ring back.”
“Oh?”
“It’s important to you, we’re in this together,” he shrugged, “thus, it’s important to me.”
Altara’s face lit up in a sly smile, as she replied “Smooth, Hephy.” She stood up as well, intently saying “Then let’s get that ring off of that bastard’s hands.”
Hephaestus nodded, “Gotta get some customers fi
rst, no?”
“Not gonna have to wait long,” she said looking at the forge’s door, “watch.”
Hephaestus turned towards the entrance, seeing a couple of people heading their way. One was clad in heavy plate armor, still oversized, but more reasonably built than the ones he had seen so far; the other figure wore a scale mail with a belt tied at the waist, with full pauldrons, couters, vambraces and gauntlets.
As they came closer, Hephaestus realized they were a man and a woman respectively, hesitantly walking towards the forge. The smith sighed, walking outside and greeting them as jovially as he could: “Good morning! How may I help you?”
The two looked at each other, and the woman decided to talk: “Is this, ah, the old forge of Baratus?”
“Yes,” Hephaestus replied, “it is. I’m Hephaestus, the new smith.”
“I heard,” she replied, “you made Rothmund’s weapons and armor. They were, ah, really cool.”
“Thank you.”
“I, ah... Well, Gareth,” she said pointing towards the man, “and I would like a few items made, if, uh, it’s possible?”
“Of course it is, but please, do come in.” Hephaestus ushered both of them in, pleased at hearing them appreciate his politeness. Walking after them, Hephaestus drew two chairs, a drawing board, and coal, and sat together with them.
The two were looking curiously around the forge, whispering about the machines and implements inside. Altara, sitting in a corner, nodded their way, saying “’Sup?” the moment they saw her. Hephaestus shrugged, turning back at the couple and saying “So, what kind of items would you like?”
“Well, ah,” said the man, “I’m looking for a better weapon than the one I have now, if, ah, possible.”
“Hm. May I see it?” the smith replied.
“Ah, sure!” The trade prompt appeared, and Hephaestus accepted it. As soon as he did, Gareth placed his current weapon into the screen for the blacksmith to check. It was classed as a longsword, yet it was anything but: The strange implement had, of all things, a spiked pommel and crossguard—hell’s with spikes, anyways!?—with a guard too small to be comfortably wielded with gauntlets. If the lower half of the weapon was unsavory to Hephaestus, then the blade was an insult to weapon design; he knew about historical seven-bladed swords which, though used mostly ritualistically, made in his opinion for a visually interesting weapon; Gareth’s sword however was dysfunctional to a fault. Whereas a seven-bladed sword had each blade parallel to its main blade, this one had two rows of blades perpendicular to the central one; it was made in a green-hued metal he had never seen before.
When he finished analyzing Gareth’s weapon, he asked “Right, what kind of weapon would you like?”
“A... a longsword, you know? Only with better stats, and a unique name.”
“Name and design?”
Gareth shrugged. “Up to you.”
“Right, hmmm,” Hephaestus brought his hand to his chin. “Would one-fifty be alright?”
“Hundred fifty thousand? Sure!”
“Wonderful. Bonuses?”
“Uh, life-steal, damage, and ignore armor.”
“You get four,” said Hephaestus.
“Awesome! Uh, right, hmm, well, how about extra strength?”
“You got it.” Hephaestus turned towards the woman, “and for you?”
“A full armor, to make me impervious to pretty much anything. I’ll leave the design to you, just as with Gareth, but I would like it to have bonus defense, health, endurance, and ignore damage. Per piece.”
“Sounds good, how many pieces do you want?”
“Ten.”
Hephaestus’ eyes widened, “TEN!?”
Gareth, too, was startled, asking “Ten? Eldin, are you sure?”
“I am. I want a full set of armor, as well as a cape, a necklace, and two rings.”
“Well then,” Hephaestus said, “that would make it... One and a half million.”
The woman shrugged. “Sounds good to me. A fair price for a fair work.”
“Mhm. Bonuses?”
“Strength, endurance, damage reduction, health.”
“Right on. So, to both of you, any material you want?”
“Verdium,” the man said. “Mithril,” answered the woman.
“Very well; I will contact you when they are ready.”
The two of them nodded, thanking him for his time, and expressing their eagerness over seeing their weapon and armor made. When they were gone, a giddy Hephaestus turned towards Altara, yelling “Holy CRAP Altara! Over one and a half million!”
“That’s amazin’ Hephy, told you you’d be hittin’ it big.” She smiled, “Remember that the first customer’s always the most difficult one, after that,” she shrugged, “they’ll be comin’ in on their own.”
“Right. In that case, hm, I guess I gotta learn how to work with uh... Verdium and mithril.”
“Doubt it’s gonna be difficult for you. Wanna go to the market, get some materials?”
“Mhm.”
“Alrighty then, right behind you.”
***
The market in Arken was as crowded as it had ever been; it teemed with life, as people went along, purchasing produce, foodstuffs, weapons, armor, materials—everything they needed to stay alive out in the wilderness.
Hephaestus and Altara went immediately towards the crafting and forging areas, as they had the items they needed; Hephaestus decided to use the spectroscope at the forge to try and make out the composition of both verdium and mithril, as it would give him a better grasp on how to properly work with them.
They waded about the various stalls selling crafting materials and components, comparing prices and trying to find the best deals. Hephaestus made a point to purchase steel, as he recalled the blue metal, azuraneum, having steel and nickel as bases; he also determined to purchase gold and silver, for the rings and pendant, as well as leather for the woman’s cape. He also purchased two ingots of verdium and five of mithril, as right after he ran them through the spectrometer, he wanted to get to work.
Once they had everything they needed, they decided to take a quick break by sitting by a fountain in the market. The breeze of the fountain’s flowing water was refreshing, as the day was sweltering hot. Despite wearing a light tunic and breeches, Hephaestus could feel the linen clinging to his skin.
“So,” said Altara, startling him, “hey, easy there, Hephy! I meant to ask, what’s your story?”
“Hm?”
“Yea, y’know, the reason why Angus Bjornson’s whilin’ his days away inside some videogame instead of bein’ out there, forgin’ stuff for rich people and whatnot.”
Hephaestus chuckled, “No big story there, just the great equalizer.”
“Meanin’?”
He shrugged, “I grew old, and brittle. Can’t lift a hammer if my life depended on it, my legs won’t support me, and if I get a whiff of soot, well, my lungs come out with it.” He grunted, closing his eyes. “Growing old’s quite something, no?”
“Well,” the woman said, “at least you got the opportunity to actually grow old, y’know?”
Hephaestus shrugged once more, “I guess so, yea. Out there, at least. In here, well, I am as you see me—that is to say, as I was at the prime of my life, my forties or so. Hm,” he grunted, “to be honest, this Alterwelt thing, well, it’s a wholly new opportunity for me, to do what I love most.”
“And what would that be?” she asked.
“Why, working at the forge, of course! It was my life’s passion, truth be told. And what would you know? I nearly didn’t pursue it at all.”
“Huh, truly?” Altara asked.
“Mhm. I got the right motivation, at the right time.”
“Is that so?” she asked, “so, what’s got Angus Bjornson into becomin’ a world-renowned blacksmith?”
“You’re gonna laugh.”
“Nah Hephy, one doesn’t laugh at those things.
”
“If you say so. Well, my wife did.”
“Hah, really!?”
“See? Told you you’d laugh!”
“No, no, I’m sorry, Hephy! Just, never woulda thought that it was your wife. How did that come ‘bout then?”
Hephaestus chuckled in turn, before answering “Well, we were young, early twenties and newlywed you see? Struggling for money, no kids on the way yet, fortunately. We weren’t precisely out on the street, however. My dad had passed away, gave me his old house with a workshop on the side, and that’s how things started, really.
“Zinnia, she had realized I spent quite some time at the workshop when I needed to unwind, making small things, mind you: Rings, earrings, armbands, you name it—small artisan’s work just to unwind. Well, there came a time when Zinny asked me, why didn’t I actually make something out of it? I could become a jeweler, or a craftsman, peddle my stuffs online and whatnot. So, that’s what I did.”
“And that’s how you got started?” asked Altara, leaning in, interested in the answer.
“Hah, I wish! Nah, that was just the beginning, and let me tell you, it didn’t go quite as expected.”
“Well that’s a bummer alright. What happened then?”
The blacksmith shrugged, before matter-of-factly stating “People don’t much care about artistry, craftsmanship or the like. They want pretty things, and they want them for free. But, well, Zinny kept telling me she’d rather we go poor, than I stopping from doing what I wanted. Of course, that’d always wring my heart—god bless that woman—but, well, I was lucky. You see, the kids who grew with videogames, and nerdy things left and right grew up, and wouldn’t you know it? They stayed nerds well into their later days, and they were willing to cough up quite a lot of dosh to see replicas of their favorite swords, weapons, maces, what have you.”
“And that’s how you really started?”
“And that’s how I really started gaining traction, yes. People wanted replica swords, historical swords, weapons, armor, everything. So as I satisfied more, and more customers, well, I got more commissions, a little bit of fame and now,” once again, he shrugged, a smile on his face, “that’s all my kids, really. Falcata and Talwar – Amelia and Jonas, they still work at the forge, and manage the brand.”
True Smithing: A Crafting LitRPG Series Page 17
