The Land: Forging (Chaos Seeds Book 2) (25 page)

Richter nodded and stood up. Together, the two men walked to put their fellow villagers to rest. The funeral went smoothly. There were tears to go around, but the villagers pulled together in support. Hisako and the other sprites were present as well. Sumiko had cast a spell on the fallen sprites. It left their bodies wrapped in golden threads like a mummy. Richter was told that it would halt decay until they could be returned home to be buried in the custom of the wood sprites. The Hearth Mother recited a small speech in the language of her people at the end of the ceremony.

No one felt like saying much after that. They all went in separate directions to retire for the night. More than a few walked to the Quickening to sleep under its canopy. Richter couldn’t blame them. The sense of wellbeing that exuded from the tree was palpable.

Richter walked up to the Hearth Mother. She was surrounded by Yoshi, Sion and the other sprites, “I am leaving tomorrow morning. I need to finish my quest,” he said.

“Will my son be accompanying you,” she asked. Richter looked at
Sion, who seemed confused by the question as well.

“Yes,” Richter replied. “Do you not want him to?”

“I am not saying that, but I well remember how dangerous my own quests to unlock my powers were. My son must follow his own path, and it will be as the Forest wills. I have a request, however.”

“Anything,” he said immediately.

“I would like you to take Yoshi with you.”

Both Richter and Yoshi began to argue against that at once, but she raised a hand to stop them. “I am quite safe here behind the enchantments now, and I have recovered fully from the battle. We will be working and fighting together quite a bit in the future. It will be to our advantage if two peoples are familiar with each other’s weakness and strengths. There is no better way to accomplish this than working together to complete a quest.”

Yoshi waited for her to finish speaking, then immediately said, “I cannot leave you alone Hearth Mother. These mists are not full proof as you well know! Anything-”

“Enough Yoshi,” she said sharply. She seemed to immediately regret her tone because then her voice softened, “I know you worry
for
me, but we must all take chances in the coming days. There have been more incursions into the Forest by those with evil in their hearts than
any time in recent memory. Do not forget, if not for the efforts of Sion and Lord Richter, where we now stand could have been the heart of a goblin stronghold. Instead,” she sighed and looked at the Quickening with satisfaction, “we are sitting in the presence of a celestial tree. Most importantly, the other half of our souls has been returned to us. Instead of new enemies, we have new friends.” She patted Richter on the shoulder with a smile.

She looked at Yoshi again, “Please be ready to leave with Lord Richter in the morning. Help him accomplish his quest.”

The sword adept bent his head in acquiescence, “As you wish, Hearth Mother.”

“Daniella, will you go as well? This quest could benefit from someone with brains,” Hisako said with a wry smile.

“Of course, Hearth Mother,” the cute sprite said with a smile of her own. Sion gave a faint groan.

“Then we leave in the morning,” Richter said. “Sion, finish preparing the potions. Yoshi, let’s do some sword practice.”

The look on the sword adept’s face was
almost
worth the pain that followed.

Yoshi decided that this time, practice
would consist of multiple sparring sessions. Richter first sparred Sion, both of them holding stout sticks. The sprite soundly trounced him up and down the meadow. His Companion was, of course, trash talking the entire time.

Unexpectedly, Yoshi had saved him by saying that Sion needed to work on his own forms and they faced off against each other. It was Richter’s turn to be amused as Sion was
whacked in the backside more than once. Then entered Daniella. With a cheery
smile
she asked if Richter would like to spar. He made a mental promise not to hurt the small woman. He soon found out that his promise wasn’t necessary because apparently she had already resolved to beat him like he owed her money.

It wasn’t the
most
humbling experience in two lives to be beaten soundly by a three and a half foot tall
woman, but it was up there! She moved like a ghost. Her two blade style was strongly reminiscent of the
sword adept’s
fight with the bugbear raider, leaving no doubt who had trained her. He
face planted at
least
five times! At one point he was pretty sure he shouted at her, ‘Stop laughing at me!’ That may have been a hallucination, though. Richter was relieved when she finally stepped
back
and thanked him for the exercise. That relief only lasted until he saw the other sprites standing in a line, patiently waiting for their turn to ‘spar’ with the Master of the Mist Village.

Richter was nearing the end of his patience as he sparred with the last sprite in line. Yoshi had been watching his practice silently. When he started his fight with the last
sprite,
however, he started ordering Richter to use certain forms. The names came faster and faster, and Richter’s training allowed him to follow. Before he knew
it,
he was standing over his sparring partner with his stick pointing at the sprites chest. A cheer rose up from the other warriors and even his vanquished ‘foe’ smiled ruefully before excepting Richter’s help to stand again. They shook hands and parted with no animosity. Yoshi just walked up and said, “That was less horrible.” Then he walked off.

Richter’s mouth dropped open in shock. He spread his arms wide and looked around as if to say, ‘Yeah
boyyyyy
!’ Sion just shook his head and turned away with a laugh. Daniella followed close behind him, already restarting her constant
monologue on the sprite’s many faults and how he could improve if only he would listen.

Laughing quietly as his friend’s stoic demeanor, Richter walked over to Hisako. He made a quick request to which she readily agreed. Thanking her, he decided to keep moving before the heat left his muscles. Prior training sessions had taught him that as soon as he slowed, his muscles would cool down, and then the aches would begin. He collected his map from the
sprites,
and then began to jog down to the village. While he was moving he saw a minimized unread prompt, he had advanced his sword skill by a level! Pleased with his progression, he made his way down to the village. The sun was going down and he wanted to speak with Sumiko and Gloran quickly before passing out. Luckily, Futen showed up while he was jogging, and Richter sent him to gather the high elf and the Life master to await him at the Great Seal.

When he got closer to the soon to be site
of the rebuilt smithy, he heard raised voices and arguing. Sighing to himself, he jogged over. Krom and four other dwarves were shouting at each other. Every word uttered got louder and brought the arguers closer together. Anyone could see this was about to come to blows. In fact, judging by the lack of other people around, Richter was the only dummy running
towards
this conflict.

“Whoa
! What’s with all hubbub bub?” The dwarves stopped fighting and looked at him confused. Richter sighed. Damn colloquialisms. He tried again, “Why for art thou fighting?”

Krom immediately started talking again. Why the hell did that work, Richter thought. “These short sighted fools want to just shove the Core into any
ol’ anvil!”

Richter just looked at him. When the dwarves started arguing again, in dwarvish this time, Richter held up his hand again, “Hey! Somebody tell me what the problem is.” He pointed randomly at one of the dwarves, “You, what’s the argument about?”

“Well your lordship, the Core can be combined with any anvil to make a Magic Forge. But it will combine with the highest quality metal it is
touching
and change the entire anvil into that metal. Thereafter, any weapons or armor made will have special traits based on the metal the Forge is made out of.”

Richter had to take a second to process that, “So you are saying that if you put gold next to the Magic Core, then you could turn an entire anvil into gold?”

“Yes, my Lord, but gold would make a horrible anvil,” one of the dwarves responded.

This guy didn’t get it. “And we can do this over and over,” he asked. Richter was already dreaming of a factory churning out gold anvils by the dozens. He was going to invent both the car and
grey poupon, just so he could drive around handing it out!

“The Core can be taken out of the Magic Forge, but the anvil would return to its former metal.”

Richter sighed, he guessed that would have been too easy.

“We would also lose any levels or spells that the Forge had learned,” the dwarf continued.

“Yes,” Krom spat, “and that’s why we need to do this right. The material that is used in the anvil will convey certain properties to the weapons we make! Right now we only have common metals, and these blockheads want to waste a MAGIC CORE when we don’t have anything stronger than high steel! Even
orichalum would be a better choice, but I would sooner make love to ant hill in winter than use the metal of those accursed bastards!”

“Wait,” Richter said raising a hand to hold off any more of Krom’s tirade, “what do you mean levels. The Forge could get stronger?”

Another dwarf spoke up, “That is the other reason Magic Forges are so valued. They will absorb the skill of those who work
upon
them. Each weapon that is made upon
them
and each weapon that is deconstructed on it will add to the experience of the Forge. When it has enough experience it will level,” the dwarf smiled, “and that is when the really amazing things start to happen. You see, my Lord-”

Richter held up his hand for the umpteenth time. He was too tired to get a lesson in smithing right now. He turned back to Krom, “What metals are there, and which one should we use?”

Krom’s face lost much of its animosity as he started thinking of
a topic near and dear to his heart, “Well iron and steel of course. Bronze or its base metal copper is also possible, but only a blockhead or
back woods
tribesman would make weapons out of bronze these days. High steel can be made by combining molten steel and
xanthite
. Glass is stronger, but only those crazy islanders know how to forge it. Moonstone will make you a nice light armor. Quicksilver will give you something even better, though whoever could find enough quantities
to make even a decent dagger is someone I would like to meet. Cobalt will make you a fine piece of medium or heavy armor, and ebony will protect you from almost
anything,
though you will need to be as strong as a bear and probably hung like one to if you want to move around in it. My pappy used to talk about red
duranium
, but I’ve only seen it once.
Of course, mithril is the dream of every smith, but you might as well wish for a great dragon’s scales or adamant while you are at it.”

Richter was shocked that such a long winded and thoughtful discourse had come from the hot-tempered
dwarf. It was clear that there was more to Krom than just the barroom brawler persona that the smith initially exuded. Krom wasn’t
done, though.

“So if I had my wish, it would be duranium
or ebony. I suppose in a pinch, quicksilver or moonstone would do, though. That’s why,” Krom’s voice regained its previous levels of derision and annoyance, “I’ll not hear about wasting the Core on high steel!”

From what Richter had heard, he agreed with his new vassal. Even though he was eager to have the Forge made and to start constructing weapons, he had always been a measure twice and cut once kind of guy. (Previous girlfriends might point out that certain Ikea desks or tables had been left a bit wobbly because he had refused to read the directions first, but that’s not the point!) Richter had a question to ask before he made his decision.

“How much metal will we need?”

Krom answered, “Well I have never done this before. The only information we have is based on fables the oldsters would tell us, but I remember is my
mam telling me a story about Frederico the Axesmith.”

“Holding one globe of silver mithril,
and one sphere of red and white,
he brought the two brother orbs together,
and unleashed his hammer’s might.
The Magic Forge was created,
to manifest the Axesmith’s will,
he swore to forge to save his people,
and never just to kill.

Educational dialogue and now poetry? Richter smiled at seeing the softer side of the cantankerous dwarf. “So it needs to be the same size as the Core then,” he asked. The clockwork sphere was about the size of a large grapefruit.

“We think so, my Lord. The problem is even if you could find someone selling that much precious metal, an ingot of pure quicksilver would cost near two gold coins.
Ebony at
least
five times as much. Also, to be completely honest, the Kingdom of Yves regulates the purchase of higher level metals. All known mines that produce them are either owned by the Kingdom, the nobles, or one of the mining guilds that wouldn’t risk breaking the law just to sell to us. Some could be bought on the black market, but you would need a high skill level tradesman just to find one.”

Metal costs that much, Richter thought incredulously. He supposed it made
sense.
In medieval times on
Earth,
it was only the upper crust that could afford to wear armor. A knight
clad in full
plate was literally wearing a fortune. The kingdom’s
stanglehold on metal also meant only their soldiers would have access to the best gear.