“That’s a lovely tale, Hephy,” she paused, “What about... Zinnia?”
Hephaestus grew silent, sighing loudly—more a grumble than anything—before he said “She did her best for me and the kids, and now, well, I feel her with me every day at the forge.”
“I see,” said the woman, “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” the smith replied, “sore topic, you know what it’s like. Now, should we return to the forge? Got a few things to make.”
“Sure thing, Hephy,” she said watching him as he stood up and began walking away. “Sure thing.”
***
Back at the forge, Hephaestus set himself straight into working. The first thing he did was head towards the spectrometer at the end of the workshop, ready to analyze the composition of both verdium, and mithril. “Same procedure as with azuraneum?” he asked.
“Of course; you stick metal into the machine, run it, and it should tell you its components.”
“Great, thank you.” Hephaestus took a verdium ingot first, placing it into the chamber of the spectrometer, and firing the machine. As it whirred into life, he said “Altara?”
“Hm?”
“I... Sorry I left that way. Zinnia is my sore topic, you understand?”
Altara sighed, placing her fists on her hips, “’Course I do, you big dolt. Ain’t easy talkin’ ‘bout that, eh?”
“No, not at all. It’s been a few, well, decades, yet it’s still difficult.”
“Well Hephy,” she said gently, “all in time. For now, look, results are in.”
Hephaestus turned towards the spectrometer, confirming that it had, in fact, finished its analysis:
Verdium
-crafting component-
Steel-Copper rust-Nickel
“Hmm, should’ve seen it coming,” the blacksmith said.
“How so?”
“Well, patinas take a greenish hue due to the oxidation of the outer layer of metal. If you were to scrape the rust off of it, with enough of it, it should stain the metal into an interesting green shine. The game suggests copper, and I guess it makes sense, as it’s a pure metal, but it’s not the only metal which grows a patina. Bronze, brass, and the like also get them.”
“You really know your stuff, don’t you?”
“A blacksmith must be a bit of a chemist, and physicist too. Lots of interesting, important properties depending on the type of metal.”
“You’re the expert,” she said with a shrug, “what about mithril?”
“Well, let’s find out.”
Hephaestus took a mithril ingot, sticking it into the spectroscope’s chamber. After he closed it, the machine whirred into life once more, the crystals within the chamber releasing their laser-like beams, before showing the results:
Mithril
-crafting component-
Steel-Aluminum-Nickel
“Huh, now I didn’t expect that.”
“That you would use aluminum for mithril?” Altara asked.
“Precisely. I guess it makes sense, however, as mixing aluminum and nickel makes for a lightweight, yet durable material.”
“It does make sense!” she cried, “Mithril is best for armor since it’s quite light, but damn hard to break through.”
“Indeed, and that gives me an idea for the woman... what was her name?”
“Eldin.”
“Eldin, yes. A chainmail undershirt in her armor would make her nearly impervious to damage, seeing as the weakest points of an armor are its joints. Defending them further should give her increased damage reduction, yes?”
“Mhm.”
“In that case,” the blacksmith said, donning his apron and gloves, “Gotta get to work.”
Given the higher complexity of Eldin’s request, compared to Gareth’s, Hephaestus decided to start with the weapon, so he could later focus on her armor. Gareth had requested a longsword and, Hephaestus assumed remembering the shape of his current weapon, that he wanted something with an interesting shape; not only that, the basic structure of the weapon could help him maintain the velocity of his swings by compensating for the weapon’s weight. An idea came, then, to Hephaestus mind: An Egyptian khopesh as the base design, its curved, sickle-like blade forming a counterpoint to a more traditional crossguard-and-basket hilt, mixed with yet another piece from mankind’s history. Hephaestus decided to use the ringed build of a Chinese dao to provide a gyroscope effect, making the weapon easy to swing and control, while keeping its forward chopping power.
He set himself down to sketching his idea, as he wanted a visual representation of what he wanted to make. He started by drawing the basic shape of a khopesh—a one-handed grip, close to twelve centimeters in length, without a crossguard, reaching into a blade body extending vertically five centimeters before curving outwards into a wicked, cutting edge, bending upwards, forming a question-mark like shape. Hephaestus then added details to make the weapon his own: He drew in a crossguard with upward facing quillons; since the blade was meant to face a single direction, the blacksmith drew a basket guard for the grip facing the same direction as the cutting surface. Along the spine of the blade, he added six rings which, when rotating, would stabilize the movement of the weapon, using its own momentum to increase its velocity without taxing the wielder.
When he deemed the sketch ready, and the idea was fresh in his mind, he willed himself to work on the metal. He placed one of the verdium ingots into the forge, knowing that its melting point would be lower than pure steel due to the nickel and copper it contained; he reduced the fire in the furnace to compensate, checking the metal every so often. When the metal was red-hot, he took it out of the fire and to the power-hammer, bending it into itself, forming yet another ingot. He repeated the process multiple times, evenly heating and hammering the metal, as he wanted the weapon to be not only deadly, but beautiful: The multiple foldings would confer the metal a gorgeous Damascus pattern, exacerbated by the green hue of verdium.
Heating the metal once more, he used a cutting tool to chop off a piece for the blade and tang, drawing it out into a fifty-centimeter long bar. He followed by hammering the upper end of the metal, flattening it into a palm-wide extension, hammering the lower portion into a rougher, quadrilateral shape before drawing it down into the tang for the grip. As the cutting surface of the weapon was on the top, Hephaestus decided to draw the mid-section slightly further, to place a ricasso on it—should Gareth wish to use the weapon two-handed.
When the basic shape was ready, he heated it up once again, taking it to an anvil at the forge. The following process, he knew, couldn’t be done with a power-hammer, as a single wrong swing of the hammer could break the metal; instead, he took a manual hammer, placing the edge of the weapon against the horn of the anvil, and he began hammering at it, slowly giving it the necessary curvature; he heated the metal evenly on multiple occasions, taking it back to the anvil, until he gave it the intended shape: a sickle-like half-moon, the outer edge of which he would sharpen later on. First, he decided on a differential heat treatment to keep the spine of the weapon supple, and the edge hard for cutting.
He took the shape of the blade back to the workbench to sketch the positions for the rings; once they were marked, he took the weapon into a drill to perforate six two-centimeter wide holes along the spine of the blade, spacing them one centimeter from each other. He then deemed the blade ready for tempering; before taking it back to the forge, he placed a thin layer of insulating clay along the spine of the weapon, placing it into the furnace once he was finished. When the blade reached the proper temperature, he took it out, quenching it in a vat of oil; when the fumes cleared, he removed the blade before using a small hammer to flake the clay off. He was pleased to see the effects of the heat treatment: The cutting surface was hard, capable of rending through anything, while the spine remained flexible.
Hephaestus nodded, eager to reveal the Damascus pattern in the metal. That would have to wait, h
owever, as first he got to work on the hilt; he cut off another piece of verdium, heating it into a thin metal bar, twisting its ends upwards, before removing another piece to form the pommel and basket. To shape the handguard of the weapon, he took the piece of metal into the power hammer, and using a spheroid mold, he began shaping it into a hemisphere able to wrap around the wielder’s knuckles. At the lower end of the basket, he made bifurcating prongs so it would slot into the grip, right above the pommel, while the upper end would slot beneath the crossguard. He continued the construction by shaping the pommel, hammering a piece of metal into a neat, metallic green circle which would slot into the tang.
The smith began working on the rings, taking a piece of metal into the wire drawing die, setting the machine to draw a one-centimeter wide wire; he didn’t need a lot of it, as he would only make six pieces; so considering he had enough, he began working on shaping the rings. He cut each piece using the cutting tool and power hammer, forming six half-closed rings he proceeded to thread through the holes in the weapon. When they were through, he used a blowtorch to heat-weld them together, using a file to polish them into seamlessness. The rings fit perfectly into the slots, leaving enough room for them to move and twirl uninterrupted.
Work on the grip continued as Hephaestus took a piece of yew wood, shaving it off into a comfortable ovoid shape; he decided to form finger grooves along its shape, aligned with the cutting surface of the weapon. The next step, for him, involved cutting a couple of leather strips he would place on the weapon’s ricasso, along the blade. Before that, however, he decided to assemble the weapon.
He drilled the pertinent slots for the crossguard, grip, and pommel, before inserting the crossguard into the tang beneath the blade, followed by slotting in the upper piece of the basket, hammering it shut into place; he followed by inserting the wooden grip and slotting the lower piece of the basket, hammering it as well, before inserting the metallic, circular pommel. He used metal rivets to piece everything together, swinging it to confirm it was tightly set.
Satisfied, he began wrapping the leather along the lower section of the blade, using glue to set it into place, before riveting it shut. The final part of the process had Hephaestus applying a light coat of acid onto the cutting edge of the weapon (he decided leaving the spine a comparatively opaque hue to form a line of contrast.) After he wiped the acid, the Damascus pattern was revealed along the cutting edge, showing a beautiful, intricate pattern of twirling, twisting metal veins, glinting in dark and light hues of green, courtesy of verdium, while the spine remained opaque while still showing hints of the pattern; the differential treating caused a straight, even line to neatly separate the spine from the edge, accentuating the contrast between finishes.
Hephaestus proceeded to grind the edge at a grindstone, making it razor sharp, before placing the weapon on the workbench; he took an engraving chisel and hammer, engraving his signature Celtic-pattern bear into the circular pommel. Once it was ready, Hephaestus lifted the weapon, twirling it in his hand; though the weapon was top-heavy, the rings began to circle along the spine of the weapon, as intended, allowing Hephaestus a tremendous amount of control over its direction and velocity without making his hand feel tired.
He placed his left hand on the ricasso, using the weapon two-handed, feeling the extra force he was able to put into the weapon. He was pleased to see that he could easily shift between one-handed and two-handed grips, favoring either speed, or raw striking power. Letting out a deep breath of satisfaction, he pronounced the weapon complete:
Viridaline (golden hue)
-unique-
Bonus: Life Steal 30%
Bonus: Damage +40
Bonus: Ignore Armor 35%
Bonus: Strength +50
Value: 245,000 GP
Description: A blade designed for slicing and dicing, delivering the full power of a battle axe, with the finesse and comfort of a longsword.
Crafted by Hephaestus
“Seems to me,” Altara said when she saw Hephaestus naming the weapon, “that you get better with every weapon you make.”
“Hm,” the smith stashed the weapon away, before saying “practice makes perfect, or so they say.”
“True enough. You’ve had a lifetime o’ practice, too.”
“In the outside world, perhaps. Here, well, I’m just trying to do what I know, the best I know how to.”
“Well, it’s workin’ alright.”
“Right. Let me get to making the armor so—”
Hephaestus was interrupted by the sound of two voices in heated conversation. Two familiar sounding voices, he realized, as he recognized Gareth and Eldin arguing over something. “Well,” Hephaestus grumbled, “seems like trouble.”
“You don’t say, Hephy.”
“Hm, whatever it is, well, I figure it must involve our... handiwork.”
“Right.” She paused, thinking. “You think that bastard, Liberath has anythin’ to do with it?”
Hephaestus shrugged. “Don’t know, don’t care. All I see is two angry customers and, as such, it’s my duty to put their worries at ease.” Saying that, he departed towards the door, ready to meet the two quarreling people and assuage whatever misgivings they might have had. Whether Liberath had anything to do with it was none of his concern. Only his customers were.
Chapter XIV: Word of Mouth
“We do our best to work with our supported developers, as well as our in-house team, to provide the best, richest experiences to anyone who opts to use Imperium Games’ virtual spaces. Word of mouth does wonders for any enterprise – would you believe it if I told you we spend next to nothing in publicity? People, satisfied customers do it for us and, well, a satisfied customer is the best publicity anyone could hope for.”
-Jolier Vazquez, in “Virtual Business Practices – Reviews and Rumors.”
Self-satisfied prick, Ilmer thought as he watched Liberath laughing at his own “ingenuity.” Perhaps the boy had occasional sparks of intellect, he had to give him that—one such, he admitted grudgingly, was the plan he had set into motion. Yet, they were easily marred whenever he gloated about them. And boy, OH BOY he enjoyed gloating!
“I tell you, Ilmer, it’ll be wonderful! Can you imagine that... sweaty monkey groveling for a place at one of my guilds? Hah! I tell you Ilmer, his face, god I can already imagine it, his face when I say ‘you had your chance!’”
Ilmer sighed, swallowing his disdain for Liberath as he said “Ingenious indeed, sire. Though I must say, isn’t it a bit of a... well, to put it bluntly, a dick move?”
“Oh, is it?”
“Well, ah, Hephaestus’ efforts will be stillborn, if things go as you plan.”
Liberath shrugged, plucking a grape from the bowl close to him, and biting gently into it. Juice trickled down his chin as he replied “Well, he asked for it, didn’t he?”
“Sire?”
“Tell me, Ilmer,” said the lord, standing up. “Was I not magnanimous in offering him a place in one of our guilds?”
“Certainly, lord.”
Liberath nodded, starting towards the balcony door in his suite, hands behind his back. “Was I not kind in letting him know of our rules?”
“You were, sire.”
“Was I not being nice, kind even, by thinking of his needs?”
“Yes, sire, the epitome of altruism.”
“Then,” spat Liberath, “he asked for it! Now, well, he’ll be unequivocally associated with that hacker, Baratus, with no one standing up to disprove the claim.”
“Hmm, but sire—”
“But!?” Liberath exclaimed.
“Sire?”
“Did you just dare question me?”
Damn this fucking brat, thought Ilmer before saying “My apologies, sire. You need to understand, however, that some people—Rothmund specifically—has put in a good word for Hephaestus’ endeavors, in a public place, no less. I’m certain others may follow in his footsteps
.”
Liberath shrugged indolently, waving his hand in the air. “It doesn’t matter,” he said, “what a single person said. Our little network has spread so much ill about that man that quite literally nobody will even consider requesting any items from him, instead leading them towards one of our guilds.”
“Fair enough, sire. Then again, wouldn’t it be convenient to... incentivize other players to commission items at our guilds?”
“How so, Ilmer?”
“Well, perhaps a short-lived promotion? Lower the costs of a single unique item to, say, five million, rather than ten?”
“Five million? HAH! Ilmer, I’m a magnanimous man, not a damn charity!”
Liberath kept laughing as he walked out into the balcony, leaving Ilmer behind to seethe in his vexation. God, why, just WHY did mister Vazquez have to have such an insufferable prick for a nephew? He sighed once again, trailing after his “lord,” wondering whether that blacksmith, Hephaestus, would manage to come out of the rumor-mill unscathed? He shrugged. He could only wonder.
***
“I want to cancel my commission. Eldin?”
“Me too.”
“Now, now,” said Hephaestus calmly, “what seems to be the problem, my friends?”
“It’s just, ah... well.”
Eldin rolled her eyes, stepping forward. “We heard you’re involved with that hacker, Baratus, and his girlfriend!”
“Y-yea!” yelled Gareth, “We knew you were working at his old forge, but we didn’t know you were doing the same shenanigans!”
“Truly?” Hephaestus asked, “And what kind of shenanigans are those?”
“I, uh... Eldin?”
“Using a trainer to make you good at crafting!”
“Well,” said Hephaestus, “I must admit, I don’t know what a trainer is, care to explain, please?”
True Smithing: A Crafting LitRPG Series Page 18
