Rise of the Living Forge - Chapter 59 (Patreon)
Content
“Whoa,” Reya said. “That’s one nasty dagger. Who’d make something like this?”
“I can think of a lot of people,” Rodrick muttered, looking over Arwin’s shoulder at the bone dagger. “Still, that’s a magical weapon. Not the prettiest, but magic is magic. Could probably sell for around a hundred gold, maybe more. If it wasn’t limited uses, it would go for a lot more.”
“Anyone want this?” Arwin asked. “I have a possible use for it, but I don’t know how it’ll turn out.”
“Not me,” Reya said hurriedly. “I want my dagger back, not this one.”
Arwin wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh or feel flattered by how much Reya liked the dagger he’d given her. It had definitely been quite the weapon, but he was pretty sure he could always make another one.
Not sure if she wants another one, though. I suppose I’ll have to hope the magic was enough to keep it safe in the Wyrm. With any luck, we’ll be able to get it back after the Wyrm leaves – or dies.
“Daggers aren’t of any use to me,” Rodrick said. “I don’t know how to use them. Anna?”
“I prefer to heal, not kill.” Anna’s lips pressed thin in distaste as she shook her head. “And this dagger is meant for killing people. Not for me.”
“Can’t cook with it. It’ll get bone in the food,” Lillia said with a shrug. “All yours.”
Arwin wasn’t surprised. The dagger hadn’t been something that he thought any of the team would have wanted, but it was still good to check. And, if anything, their refusal to take it was a reassurance.
He’d known far too many people that would have gone for the weapon just so they could sell it. Money was a powerful lure, even when people had everything. A group that only took what they needed and nothing more was a group that would be able to work together for a long time.
Arwin carefully placed the dagger in his bag, making sure to keep it as far from the metal ingots as possible. He closed the bag and straightened back up, nodding to the others.
“Right. Shall we continue on, then? We can take on one more room before calling it for the day and heading back to celebrate our victories.”
***
The next room wasn’t anything of particular interest to anyone other than Lillia. It contained a large, fuzzy monster that the Mesh only identified as a Wiggler. It was really more of a furry cylinder than anything else. Arwin hadn’t even been able to figure out which end of the Wiggler had been its head, but it had gone down before it had a proper chance to fight back.
None of them got any Achievements from killing it, a fact which Arwin was somewhat thankful for. If the Mesh was going around handing out Achievements for killing moldy turds, the world would have probably been headed for disaster.
Unfortunately for everyone, the Wiggler had turned out to have a rather fleshy interior that very strongly resembled normal meat. Lillia carved the monster up, then stuffed her arms – and the rest of Arwin’s bag – full of its meat. Considering it was the only thing that she was going to take from the dungeon, Arwin didn’t complain too much.
The group didn’t push their luck any further, not wanting to press so deep into the dungeon that they ran into something they couldn’t handle yet. They retraced their steps and made their way back to Milten. Before they returned, Arwin pulled his Ifrit mask back on to hide him from any prying eyes. He dismissed his armor and hammer as well.
As usual, Rodrick and Anna split off once they were inside the city, promising to meet back up with everyone after a few days. The remaining three headed over to Lillia’s tavern, only to find that something had changed.
“What in the Nine Underlands?” Lillia asked, nearly tripping over her own feet as she entered the tavern. She managed to catch herself at the last second and Arwin grabbed a piece of Wiggler steak as it fell from her arms to prevent it from falling to the ground.
Not that falling on the ground would have been much of an issue anymore. Someone had gone through the entire tavern and made it spotless. It had been relatively clean before, but now it was polished.
Sure, the majority of the building was old and dilapidated, but the worst of the cracked stones had been replaced and repaired. The floor had been swept and the last remnants of dust that had been in the corners was gone.
It was still dark, but the tavern looked… fresh. Ready. Lillia hurried into the kitchen, only to find that it had received a similar treatment. Everything had been wiped off and dusted, and the damaged parts of the walls had been replaced.
“Whoa,” Reya said from behind them. “It’s almost shiny in here.”
Lillia set the pile of steaks in her arms down and turned in a circle. Even in the darkness, Arwin could see the delight on her features.
“What happened?” Lillia breathed, running a hand along the counter. “It’s so clean!”
Arwin took the steaks out of his own bag and stacked them beside the pile Lillia had made. He then crouched and squinted at the grout that had been used to patch the walls over. It was the very same one that he’d used to patch over the smithy, and the stones that had been put into the tavern in place of the damaged ones were identical to the ones he’d bought as well.
“I think Zeke has been busy while we were out,” Arwin said, rising back to his feet. He headed out of the kitchen and headed up the rickety staircase to check out the second floor. It was identical to the last time he’d seen it, which only made sense.
There was only so much time in a day, and it would have been impossible for Zeke to singlehandedly repair every single part of the tavern in the hours they were gone. Still, it was a pretty impressive feat.
He must have been working ever since we left to pull this off.
Arwin headed back downstairs, where Lillia was walking around the common room. It was devoid of any tables and still painfully dark, but Arwin could almost picture what it would look like in a few more weeks.
“Zeke did a damn good job,” Arwin said.
“He did,” Lillia agreed, pulling her gaze away from the walls to look at Arwin. “Where’d he go?”
“Probably the smithy,” Arwin replied, picking at the hole in his armor. “Which is where I’m going to head as well. I’ve got some new toys to play with and new gear to make.”
“Let Zeke know I’ve got a few meals with his name on them, would you?” Lillia asked. “I’ll thank him personally whenever he swings around the tavern again. Maybe I’ll work on patching up one of those second-floor rooms sooner than I’d planned so he can have a room to himself.”
“I suspect he’d appreciate that. You might want to focus a large ice box first, though,” Arwin suggested, glancing at the large stack of meat on the countertop. “Because most of that is going to go bad way before you can use it.”
Lillia paled and nodded. “Yeah, good point. I’ll get on that.”
“I’ll come with you,” Reya volunteered. “I’ve got a little gold, so some shopping would be fun.”
The three all headed out of the tavern, splitting off in their respective directions. Arwin checked the door of the smithy when he got to it. It was locked, but he could hear clangs coming from within it.
Arwin slid the key into the lock and stepped inside, letting the door swing shut behind him. Zeke stood at the anvil, hammering away at a rough sword. The hearth flickered with faint light behind him, not nearly as hot as it should have been.
“Having fun there?” Arwin asked with a wry smile.
Zeke glanced up at him, his cheeks coloring. “I’m not using your metal. It’s just scrap I found on the streets.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Arwin said, walking over to join Zeke and depositing his bag in a corner of the room. He studied the sword, tilting his head to the side. Even though it was still rough, it was surprisingly decent looking. Better than his first few attempts at a sword had been.
Beyond that, there were waves in the metal where it looked like two different pieces had been layered over each other. It was far from perfect, and the metal was separating at the seams instead of melding together.
“What were you going for with the kinds of metal you used?” Arwin asked. “Was it just that you couldn’t find enough of the same kind?”
“No. I was trying to layer them,” Zeke said wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of a hand. “My dad would always say layering metal was the best way to make a sword. You use metals of different kinds so you get the best bits of each one, you know? Cuz some metal is springy and other metal is really stiff. So, if you mix them, you can get a balance.”
“Huh,” Arwin said. “Interesting. I’ve seen smiths fold metal together, but I just thought folding it was a way to work it into shape, not to mix different metals to get a better result. I guess it’s almost like cooking.”
Zeke stared at Arwin with doubt in his eyes. “I don’t really think it is.”
Arwin burst into laughter and slapped Zeke on the shoulder. “Perhaps not. I’m flying by the seat of my pants here. You’re doing great, though.”
“Not really,” Zeke grumbled, sending a glance over his shoulder at the hearth. “That’s not hot enough, and we don’t have any oil to quench the stuff we make.”
Oh, crud. Forgot about that bit. Whoops. I better not let Zeke on to just how new I am at this.
“Resources have been tight up until recently,” Arwin said with a sheepish grin. “That will come in time. And getting the hearth hotter is a pretty simple task.”
“I already used the bellows,” Zeke said, crossing his arms. “But it’s way too windy, even with all the repairs. Also, your wood supply is almost entirely gone. How was that thing hot enough to do anything?”
“If you can keep a secret, I’ll show you.”
Zeke’s eyes widened and he nodded without missing a beat.
“Lillia says thank you for all the work you put into the tavern, by the way,” Arwin said as he approached the forge.
“It wasn’t much,” Zeke said, glancing away as his cheeks reddened. “I just wanted to help out a little more. I didn’t have anything better to do with my day anyway.”
“Well, we’ll get that changed soon enough,” Arwin promised. He held his hand up and summoned a ball of [Soul Flame] to it, tossing it into the hearth. The fire roared up, instantly tripling in size.
Zeke’s eyes widened and he rushed forward – though he made sure to keep enough space between himself and the crackling flame to avoid getting burnt.
“Whoa,” Zeke breathed. “You can throw fire?”
“It’s one of the abilities my Smith class got,” Arwin said. “No sharing that, though. I don’t think it’s a big deal, but I don’t want the extra attention, you know?”
“Oh, yeah. I won’t say a word,” Zeke promised. He fidgeted in place, and Arwin could tell he was resisting the urge to look back at his sword.
“Go on,” Arwin said with a chuckle. “Get your sword. Let’s finish it, shall we?”
Zeke didn’t need to be told twice. He grabbed the blade, then carefully edged forward and stuck the first half of the blade into the fire. Arwin took the unfinished piece between two fingers and lifted it into the fire, ignoring Zeke’s yelp of warning.
“It’s my fire,” Arwin said. “It won’t burn me. You’re a different case, though.”
Zeke, who had been moments from sticking his hand into the fire, quickly yanked it back and cleared his throat. “Oh. Yeah, that makes sense. I’ll work the bellows.”
He ran over to the other side of the forge and started to pump air into the fire, causing it to roar even higher. It wasn’t long before the sword had turned a mixture of bright orange and cherry red.
As tempting as it is to whip out Verdant Blaze, I don’t think this is the right spot for it. This is Zeke’s sword, and he can’t use my magic hammer safely. He’ll have to settle for the normal one.
“Go ahead and grab the hammer,” Arwin said. “I trust you can swing it considering you’ve already got this much of the sword made.”
Zeke picked up the black hammer and hoisted it over his shoulder with a grunt, giving Arwin a sharp nod. “I can hold it.”
“Good. Don’t hit my fingers,” Arwin said, bringing the heated sword over to the anvil. “I’ll hold it in place. Get to swinging.”
Zeke grinned, and then the two of them got to work.