Rise of the Living Forge - Chapters 125-126 (Patreon)

With the key secured, the group made their way out of the dungeon. There were no more incidents and the rest of their trip went without hassle. The guards standing at the entrance barely even noticed them as they passed by and headed toward Milten.

Their passage back through Milten’s gates was just as uncontested as their way out of it. They looked the part of a guild and didn’t even get so much as a second look from the men manning the entrance.

Arwin fought the urge to shake his head in annoyance as they passed. He got the feeling it would be quite some time before the first guard’s words ever left his ears.

Don’t have beggers my ass. You’ve got a crock of murderers and monsters instead. Suppose those are better for business, though.

“If I’ll be running with you lot for the near future, is there lodging that you’ll be providing?” Olive asked. “I haven’t really worked in a guild before, but–”

“You can stay in the inn with us,” Reya told Olive. “We just put in some new rooms.”

“Would that inn happen to be the same one we got food in?”

“Yes,” Lillia said, sending a glance over her shoulder at the shorter woman. “Why? Is there a problem?”

“No. No problem at all,” Olive said meekly. “I might need a lantern, though. It’s a bit… dark.”

“Won’t help much. The ones we’ve got already kind of give as much light as you’re going to get. The key is getting used to the dark,” Reya advised. “It’s fine. Everything will be a lot more lively soon. We just need more customers so Lillia spends the energy to make her shadow monsters again.”

Olive tilted her head to the side, which was a somewhat difficult feat to do whilst someone was walking. “Shadow monsters?”

“It’s a monster themed inn,” Lillia said. “I haven’t quite come up with a name yet, so don’t ask. I’ve got almost everything else set up, though. Including, well, the theme.”

“If you’d told me that from the start, it would made a lot of sense,” Olive said. “I can kind of see it. Explains the makeup. I kind of thought you were just… uh, oddly into monsters. Like, a bit too much. Not that I’m judging. Everyone’s got their thing.”

“I think I might be setting myself up to get that a lot,” Lillia said with a weary laugh. “It’s fine. As far as things go, there are worse problems to have. I don’t care what people think as long as they enjoy their stay and come back.”

“Which we have,” Rodrick put in. “Great place. Love the ambiance.”

“Rodrick, she’s already staying in the inn. You don’t need to sell her on it,” Arwin said.

“It was practice,” Rodrick replied with a shrug. “Got to get ready for when you run into random people that are just waiting for an inn recommendation.”

“Does that happen a lot?” Olive asked.

“No,” Rodrick said. “But you never know.”

“It’s appreciated nonetheless,” Lillia said. “We didn’t exactly pick the best spot to set up, but at least it fits the mood. Nobody shows up on that street expecting a boring experience.”

“I’m still surprised it isn’t haunted. With all the rumors I heard about it, I fully expected to find a ghost hanging by its neck when I walked into your tavern, blood dripping from its eyes and its insides inverted. Or something like that.”

Everyone stopped walking to turn and look at Olive.

“What?” Olive asked defensively.

“You have a great imagination,” Arwin said.

“And that was very detailed,” Reya said with a suspicious look. “Have you seen something we haven’t?”

“No. I was just making up an example. Do you think I’d be this calm if I’d actually seen a ghost standing in front of me?”

“Honestly?” Arwin asked under his breath. “It’s a tossup.”

Olive grunted, and they all walked the rest of the way in silence. It only took a few more minutes before they arrived at the supposedly haunted street. The only motion in sight was Ripely, still working away at building the smithy.

He’d continue to make good progress and the building was now well over a quarter of the way built. Arwin could practically see it coming together in real time.

Technically, I suppose I am literally seeing it come together in real time, but it feels faster than it is. Oh, what’s the point. Who am I justifying myself to? Myself?

They all walked up to the inn’s door and stopped while Lillia unlocked it. She stopped to dump the bag on the ground and pulled out the materials she’d gathered for Arwin, handing them over to him. He gave her an appreciative nod.

“So, what now?” Olive asked. “Are we going out again soon?”

“I’ve got some crafting to do,” Arwin said. “Armor to make. Weapons to forge. You’re welcome to do what you want – I don’t think we’ll be heading out again until the end of the week.”

“Is something happening then?”

Lillia pulled the tavern door open and stepped inside, holding it open behind her for the others to start funneling in.

“We’re killing some Wyrms,” Arwin replied.

Olive whipped her head around to look at him, nearly tripping over her own feet in her surprise. “We’re what?”

“The others can fill you in,” Arwin said. “I’ll be in the shitty building across the street if anyone needs me, but make sure it’s important. I like to work uninterrupted whenever possible.”

He turned and headed off while Olive gawked at his back.

“Come on,” Reya said. “I’ll show you your room. We’ve got some new ones, so you can choose. We can get to the Wyrm stuff later, but don’t worry too much. The last time we fought the Wyrm, Arwin chipped its knee.”

“That’s it?”

“That was the last time. He’s got a bigger hammer now and we’re all way stronger. Also, we’ve got you and your new sword. That’s got to count for something.”

“Yeah. A toothpick,” Olive said, their voices fading behind Arwin as he stepped into his temporary smithy, a small grin on his face. It sounded like Olive was going to fit in with the others pretty well.

She wasn’t wrong, though. They weren’t ready to fight Wyrms. Not yet. They were definitely getting much closer, but just as Titles and Achievements made massive differences for humans, they did the same for monsters.

That thing was no mere Journeyman monster. Even if we’ve taken out a fair number of pretty strong Journeyman enemies in the dungeons, assuming a Wyrm will fall just as easily is a great way for us to all get killed. We need more power.

Arwin set the materials that Lillia had given him down on the anvil. They smelled slightly of spider guts, but compared to the uncleaned Maristeel that was still stinking his forge up more than he would have cared to admit, it wasn’t bad.

Some spider webbing. Plates from a spider and a centipede. Enough to make a few pieces of armor if he didn’t waste too much of it. On top of that, he had his Maristeel and Brightsteel left to work with – not to mention just about 140 gold if he didn’t count the 100 he still owed Ripley.

I think I’ll start with greaves. They’re the most logical option for something that fits into the Ivory Executioner set, and I’m now missing them. After those can come gauntlets and then boots, in that order.

Hmm. I don’t have any more of that ivory-colored metal that I used for the helm and chest piece, though.

Arwin rubbed his chin, then picked up the spider silk, running it between his fingers. He also didn’t know the faintest thing about weaving or properly preparing a string for a bow. It looked like he was going to have to take a quick visit into town. Finding a tailor to help with the silk and someone that could recognize the metal probably wouldn’t be too hard, but he wasn’t going to get his hopes up too early.

***

“Oh, sure I can! That’s a simple enough,” the elderly tailor said with a kindly smile. She rubbed the strands of webbing between her fingers and nodded to Arwin. “It shouldn’t take long at all. You just want this woven into a single thread?”

“As strong as you can get it,” Arwin confirmed. “I need a big bowstring, but for a bow made for a giant. A very short, relatively human sized giant.”

“Why don’t you just say it’s for someone strong?” The old woman cackled at the look on Arwin’s face and patted him on the top of the head before sweeping into the back room in such a smooth motion that he could do nothing but watch.

That was… odd. At least she can help, though. That’s all that matters. The faster, the be–

The tailer burst out from behind the door, a glistening silver strand in her hands. “Done!”

Arwin nearly choked on his own saliva. “What? Already?”

“I’m a tailor by Class and trade, son,” the woman said with a bark of laughter. “If I couldn’t weave together a few strands of spider poo, then I don’t think I’d be particularly good at either. How old do you think I am?”

“I couldn’t say. I know enough not to try to guess at a woman’s age.”

The tailor’s eyes crinkled in delight. “Good one you are. Wise choice. Either way, twenty gold for the work.”

Twenty gold? Just to weave a bunch of threads when it took you less than a minute? Are you charging more for every year you live?

He didn’t voice any of his complaints. The price was painfully steep, but it was wrong to complain about a service being done fast. All that mattered was that it turned out good – and judging by the faint shimmer in the thread between the woman’s fingers, that it had.

Arwin handed over the gold and she deposited the string into his palm in a coil. He tucked it safely into a pocket with a nod.

“Thank you. I appreciate the prompt service.”

“Anytime, son. Come back soon.”

The tailor flashed Arwin a grin as he headed out the door, running the strand between his own fingers. He couldn’t wait to put it onto his bow and see how it worked – but he’d need an arrow before he could do that.

And, before he could get an arrow, he needed to get his hands on the ivory metal. Arwin set course for the only other smith he knew of in town. It had been a little while since he’d last spoken to Taylor, but with any luck the other man would have the material he needed.

Arwin’s fingers were itching to get back into the smithy and start working. The only thing that kept him from heading straight back to start on a different project were the benefits he’d earn when he finally finished the Ivory Executioner Armor.

I hope Taylor has the metal I need. It would be a pain if I have to go out in hopes that the System gives more of it to me in an achievement.

I’ve much to do, and I can’t wait to see my bow and this set come together.

This is going to be good.

Chapter 126

Arwin had to wait in a short line to meet Taylor. It looked like business had been good for the other smith, because he made something around six hundred gold in the time Arwin was standing around. He drummed his fingers against the back of his armor impatiently. He’d summoned it before coming into the store to avoid revealing any of [Arsenal]’s abilities for no reason, but now it was getting a little awkward to just keep holding. It was also rather heavy and unwieldy.

The group of adventurers that had been there before him filtered out the door and left the two of them alone in the room. Taylor hurriedly wrote something down on a piece of paper at his desk before turning his gaze to Arwin.

“What can I – oh. You again. Still trying to get into the smithing business?”

“As nothing more than an amateur,” Arwin replied with a small shrug. He walked up to the table to stand across from the other smith. “It’s been fun. I suppose that’s all I can say. I’m flying blind a bit.”

“Not the way to go about smithing, I’d say. You should probably go find someone willing to teach you if you ever want to sell anything.”

“You definitely aren’t wrong. It’s on the cards in the future.” It was good advice. If Arwin didn’t have other responsibilities right now, it was advice he’d be taking on the spot. Fortunately, the Mesh’s guidance was enough to patch over his lack of a proper teacher for the time being. “I was hoping you could identify something, though.”

Arwin set the armor on the countertop, then tapped a streak of the ivory metal running through it. “This metal right here. Do you know what it is?”

Taylor’s gaze sharpened. He reached down to pick the helmet up, but Arwin kept his hand on its top, not letting it off the table.

“Mind letting go so I can take a closer look?”

“It’s got personal significance to me. I’m clingy,” Arwin said. He held the helmet up for Taylor. “I’d like to hold onto it.”

Taylor shrugged. He squinted at the metal, then tapped a fingernail against it. The smith studied it for a few more moments, muttering under his breath as the interest in his expression grew.

“Where’d you get this?”

“It was a gift from a friend. Do you recognize the ivory metal?”

“I do,” Taylor said. He sent one last look at the helm before letting out a small whistle. “That’s a fancy piece. It’s… odd, actually. Some parts of it seem expertly forged, but others are… unique, I suppose. I can’t tell if this is an art piece or a deadly weapon. If I saw it in a dungeon, I’d assume it were magical.”

Oh, it is. I’m just not telling you that. I like its stats nice and hidden.

“Could you tell me what the metal is, then? I’m trying to get more of it.”

“That’s no surprise. Anyone who’s worked with it always wants more. This is Ivorin. It’s not a common metal to work with, but it’s tough. Good stuff.”

“I don’t suppose you’ve got any you’d be willing to part with?” Arwin tried. It was nice to have a name to put to the metal. He needed as much of it as he could get – between his greaves, gauntlets, and boots, there was a chance he’d need up to a dozen bars depending on how poorly his efforts went.

“I have some. It’s not cheap, though,” Taylor warned. “I’ll give you a bar for fifty gold. If you’re just starting to learn the basics of smithing, I’d probably stick with something cheaper. Roughsteel goes for one gold a bar – or maybe just scrap, for that matter. Wasting that much gold on metal isn’t a good idea when you’re not going to get a return.”

“I appreciate the concern,” Arwin said with a smile. He took the armor off the table and tucked it back under his arm with a grunt. With his other hand, he dug through his pockets and took fifty gold out. “But it’s okay. I’m a fast learner. Do you have more Ivorin you’d be willing to sell?”

“Hey, it’s your money.” Taylor swept the gold off the counter. “And I’ll check the back to see what I’ve got.”

He headed off. Arwin waited by the counter for a few minutes until Taylor returned, a bar of ivory metal in his hands. Taylor thunked it down on the counter and pushed it over.

“That’s all you’ve got, I take it?” Arwin guessed.

“Yeah, afraid so. It’s a good metal, but it isn’t irreplicable and it’s a bit rare. Not worth me keeping a lot of it around. The only reason I’m selling it is that I’ve got others that fit my projects better and I hate to see good material go to waste. I suppose this one will just find its purpose in training.”

Arwin tried not to laugh at Taylor’s complete lack of confidence in him. He wasn’t particularly bothered by it. Taylor had seen him functionally begging for scrap metal just a short while ago. All he needed was for the smith to sell him what he needed.

I do need to look into getting a proper supplier at some point soon if I want specific stuff that I’m not just finding in dungeons. I’ll have to keep an eye out. If I remember correctly, I think Reya managed to find someone else to buy stuff from. Maybe they’d be of use. And, if not, a merchant that visits larger cities that can buy stuff for me in proxy.

“I appreciate it nonetheless,” Arwin said. He picked the bar up and inclined his head. “Thanks for the help.”

“No problem.” Taylor raised a hand in farewell as Arwin headed out of the smithy and down the street.

He returned to his street without delay, using [Arsenal] to banish his armor as soon as he was into an alleyway. It was far too unwieldy to just waddle around carrying it under an arm, and it was going to end up drawing too much attention.

Arwin made it back to his makeshift smithy and set his new Ivorin bar down on his anvil. He tossed a ball of [Soul Flame] into the hearth and pulled out his Brightsteel. There was enough metal between them to make his greaves.

There wasn’t any reason to wait any longer, so he got started. Arwin brought the Brightsteel and Ivorin over to the flames to heat them, then summoned Verdant Blaze and tapped his fingers on its haft as he waited for the metal to get up to temperature.

I can’t wait until I have my real smithy up and running again. It’s not even like [Soul Flame] takes all that long to warm stuff as it is, but having a bellows would go a long way in making things even faster.

Unfortunately, that was still a few days in the future at the absolute minimum. Arwin was forced to suffer the torture of waiting a few more minutes until his metal was a ruddy orange and ready for him to get started.

He began by hammering the Brightsteel out into a plate. Flame rolled off every strike that Verdant Blaze drove into the metal, making short work of it. It wasn’t long until hammerscale was flaking off the metal.

Arwin used [Soul Flame] and [Scourge] to split the plate into several sections once it got thin enough, then set everything to the side and repeated the process with the Ivorin. It unsurprisingly took nearly double the time to get the ivory metal worked out.

Eventually, Arwin had everything he needed. He put several pieces back into the flames and cleared the surface of his anvil of any remaining black hammerscale. Once the pieces were hot enough, he set them down on the hammer and started folding them over each other.

The metal came together slowly, the [Soul Flame] pouring out of Verdant Blaze’s head forcing it to merge with every blow. Arwin folded the metal over and over again, working to make sure that it was completely integrated.

As before, he repeated the process for every workable piece he’d set aside. Time slipped through his fingers like grains of sand, but he was too focused on his work to so much as notice. The only thing that lived in his mind was the ring of his hammer.

When every piece had been prepared, Arwin set about the most embarrassing part – holding each one up and trying to figure out if it actually wanted to be part of a set of greaves. He had enough of the melded metal that he didn’t need all of it to play along, but if too much was against the idea, he’d be in trouble.

Fortunately, the first few pieces were all aligned. The Ivorin had been sitting around in Taylor’s shop for a while and was eager to be used for just about anything, and the Brightsteel seemed roughly indifferent to anything he did.

He set the largest parts that were willing to work with him aside. With them secured and the intent appropriate, the only thing he still needed was the metal to make the finishing touches – the clasps, bolts, and any other small components that he had to pin together.

That proved to be slightly more difficult.

“Being a horseshoe is a complete waste,” Arwin informed the small piece he’d picked up and had been talking to for the past few minutes. “That’s a noble use, sure. But there are no horses here. Nobody would use you.”

The metal was faltering. That was the only reason he was still working at it. If it had wanted to be anything he could have conceivably needed in the near future, he would have been fine to set it to the side.

A horeshoe was not one of those things.

“Come on. Think about how fun it would be to be a nail,” Ariwn said. “You’d pin everything together. The armor wouldn’t be complete if you weren’t there to hold it together. What would life be without the pins that hold everything together?”

A flicker of acceptance came from the metal – or perhaps it had just been exasperation. Whatever the reason, it had given in enough for Arwin to be confident that it would probably play along when it came time to add it to the armor.

Thank god it wasn’t actually magical. If it was, I don’t think there’s any way I would have won the argument… especially after that new [Awaken] ability I got.

Arwin set the piece to the side looked over all the metal he’d prepared. All of it lay in wait for him. Everything was set up and there was no more prep work to be done. Even though the sun was starting to set outside, he couldn’t help but smile.

It was time to give his best shot at making the next item in the Ivory Executioner set.