Diggy Diggy Hole Chapter 5 (Patreon)

Time passed as I worked under my master's heavy gaze. One day bleeding into the next week then a month with only my father going back and forth between home and his brewery marking the days as its not like I had ever seen the sun in this new life.

Snorlot was a grouchy, stubborn, jackass of a dwarf. Even with my 'supposed' blessing of Thungni. He was on my ass like white on rice when it came to the smallest of imperfections in my actual smithing.

As he didn't accept the thought of me crafting something mediocre and then enchanting them with three powerful enchantments. 

"So if I make an enchanted crossbow that makes infinite ammo, in conjured arrows. What if I make exploding arrows as the base for the enchanted crossbow to be able to send endlessly?"

Snorlot's mighty beard twitched as he considered the question and I saw how the thought rankled at his traditional beardly thoughts. And after a moment he slowly nodded with a scowl as he said. "Aye, it can be a good weapon to break the lines of the Grobi and Thaggoraki."

Either way, all this crafting was helping my crafting skills grow better... Though I wish I could enter the mines and kill the night goblins the clan was regularly finding in the old tunnels.

I smiled hearing that but he instantly reposted with a growl in his voice as he spoke. "It stinks of Umgi work, relying on explosives and unnatural things." 

Giving my master a dull look, I retorted. "And what about cannons then? Are they unnatural creations as well?"

And my master looked down at me with a scowl before nodding and saying bluntly. "Aye, a good dwarf walks into battle, axe in hand and with maybe a good handgun. Armor on the body and he only leaves when his beard is coated in the fluids of his clan's foes."

I just shook my head as that was just... Yeah, he was entirely too damned set in his ways. 

Though at least even if he clearly wasn't even fond of dwarf handguns, he still understood the value of such weapons that could save the lives of many a Dawi instead of sticking only to melee combat.

Either way, Snorlot snorted and took his hammer and continued speaking about the shield I was making for him. "Your bolts are unevenly spaced, the bottom seam of the metal isn't molded to the wood properly and metal wasn't forged into the right shape boy."

After looking at his words, I could tell he was very much right so I grunted in agreement while I had a thought strike me.

'I don't really like the pleated scale mail most dwarves wear for armor... Hell they don't really take enchantments that well either. But what if I made Skyrim Dwarven Armor?'

And the thought stuck to me... Hell, I couldn't get away from the thought of actually making Skyrim steam technology. I mean just the thought of a squad of Dwarven Centurion's mowing down a group of Orcs would be just fucking awesome!

But I had to shake away the thought as that was a project of the ages to say the least and would take me literally months if not years to make a process in which to make them and make a weapon that could host the control rod to the control the machine.

Either way, I got back to work on the shield and Snorlot always had a complaint, always sent me back to fix something with the shield until finally he took a good look at it and he said bluntly. "Ehh its passable for now. Now watch, I am going to engrave the runes of Iron, and the Rune of Shielding on this shield."

And so he did, and I watched as he took a container of molten iron and ever... Ever so carefully began pouring the molten metal down onto the still hot shield, and with his mastery, the molten metal did not splash, did not splatter. It was a precise painting of molten metal that formed the Rune of Iron upon its center.

I could feel the rune take hold within the shield as Snorlot then began gently beating, no almost massaging the rune into the shield to anchor it as his rune hammer glowed with power as it channeled the winds of magic.

With some wear in his voice, Snorlot continued to speak. "This shield is being sold to a visiting merchant clan who is bringing Umgi food, and some more varied Ale. This clan also has several Grudges with the Forrest Elgi... So the Rune of Shielding will protect them from arrows and foul magic." 

I kept silent as he worked, and after half an hour of anchoring the enchantment into the three-layer shield of gold on each side and a core of heavy oak, he began to work on the Shield Rune.

Which had him laying a ring of oak that was at least a century old onto the shield and then nailing the ring into the shield with his runic hammer then he used a rune-enhanced chisel to engrave the rune onto the ring of oak.

After he finished pounding the Shielding Rune, into the weapon he looked utterly exhausted as he spoke tiredly. "These inlays are but simple things. They are meant for the older dwarves who although respected haven't truly distinguished themselves... As these runes will only last a good few decades at most."

'And a masterwork will last millennia... Or just never dim at all.' I thought in agreement as I remembered the tales of the bullshit it took to inlay masterworks runes properly into a weapon, armor, banner, or machinery.

It was a work of a literal year at the very least to make such a master craft rune with the Runesmith having to do all kinds of crazy shit like quenching the rune engraved weapon in dragons blood, and sharpening it on a dragon's horn. Enlaying the rune with quicksilver from Karak Ungol's hold and then quenching it again in the waters of Varn.

Snorlot put down his hammer and with a groan, he walked over and collapsed into his large rocking chair with him taking out a flask of strong-smelling ale from under his forging smock to take a heavy gulp of it before shuddering at its very strong taste.

So seeing that I went over to the barrels of mead he had stocked up from my father and the few other clan brewmasters and got him a large tankard of my own father's mead as I could recognize the smell of his mead with my well-trained nose at this point.

"Here Master," I said respectfully handing over the mug of mead to Snorlot who gave a grunt of thanks and drank deep of tankard while I leaned up against one of the large standing anvils. 

After he drank and relaxed for a bit I decided to ask Snorlot something I was curious about. As my parents didn't really talk too much about the clan's issues around me. "Snorlot, who does Clan Barruk have the worst grudges with?" I asked curiously.

Snorlot paused as he raised up his tankard and his old eyes landed on me with a hint of a scowl before his eyes softened and his mighty beard twitched before he spoke slowly. "Clan Barruk has many minor grudges... Most with the Grobi for their misbegotten kind are never ending."

He took a smaller drink of his reinvigorating ale and I could see how he was staring past me as I spoke with repressed anger in his voice. "But Clan has two major Grudges in The Book of Grudges. One to the True Oathbreaker of the Elgram, and secondly to the Thaggoraki, Ikit Claw of Clan Skrye."

He shook his head saying darkly. "Both of them will have their grudges delivered in full... But that will require our clan to rebuild itself after Clan Skrye drowned our last Hold which is why we have an Everlasting Grudge with them." 

'Well besides them being the fucking Skaven who needs to die as a matter of principle... Damned ratmen are the most numerous out of all the races though.' I thought while wondering if there was anything that had happened with Malekith other than him being himself and causing the War of the Beards between the Elves and the Dwarves.

Snorlot gave me a long look before he toasted me with his tankard and said with a small smile. "Aye, but seeing a new Runesmith enter the clan fills this old Dawi with hope for better days, now... Go on and get back home lad, I imagine your mother is waiting for you."

I gave out a grunt of agreement and got off his anvil and simply said. "I will see you tomorrow master, enjoy your drink."

And he simply saluted me with the tankard making me chuckle as I left his forge and made sure to lock the mechanical door behind me.

-

Once I got back to my family home I saw my mother was busy knitting me a new pair of socks from some of the bundles of thread I won in beating that other beardless child.

And as I came in my mother gave me a once-over before chuckling and saying. "Supper is on the stove so go ahead and eat your fill. But get some rest after you are done eating, your father wants to speak with you after he is done working today." 

I nodded in understanding as being not even a decade old and doing forging work... I was well and truly exhausted to say the least so I quickly got some supper, ate it. And then after washing up a bit, I promptly threw myself into bed and my small room was filled with the roar of my snoring.

But not long afterwards I was awoken by my father shaking me awake by my shoulder and as I turned towards him. His beard turned up with the force of his grin as he chuckled and spoke. "Come on boy. Some human merchants are here to trade their meat, gold, and silver with the clan."

I blinked hearing that before nodding hurriedly as I got up and went towards my stash of hunting knives, and daggers I had made in my free time while in Snorlots forges over the last couple months of working under his gaze and bundled them up in a blanket that I planned to use as a marker for my area.

My father Urzak quickly brought me along towards the more heavily fortified front entrance of the Clan's Hold and I could smell the fresher air as we came closer to the entrace and the tunnels became ever larger so more dwarves could move around.

"The Umgi merchants have been directed to one of the meeting halls, so here is some silver if you wanna buy any gems or food. But they probably won't want to buy your craft with how young you are Kharn." He told me in warning making me nod with a small frown.

Which was fair... I was still beardless and the humans weren't stupid, why would they buy a child-forged weapon when there were smiths who had spent longer than they the humans were alive. All the while making masterwork weaponry that humans could only produce once every few decades across their race.

But I had a trick... I had enchanted my knives and blades with simple enchantments under my master's gaze and knowledge as he knew I wanted my own resources to continue my smithing. As most dwarf apprentices to a Runesmith were already accomplished smiths, and could acquire their own resources with the network of connections they had made over the half a century of life.

Each blade. No matter if it was a hunting knife or a dagger had the enchantments of Sharpness and Unbreaking to keep them at their best.

I didn't want to hide my status as the Runesmiths apprentice at all, and neither did my family or Snorlot himself even if the old codger grumbled about the clans smiths were undoubtedly going to give him shit for taking in a beardless child like myself as his apprentice over them.

But they couldn't make any of his runic hammers glow, they didn't have natural conduits for the Winds of Magic or magic itself running through their bodies to activate the runes so they actually literally didn't have anywhere to complain rightfully.

So I brought the ensembled blades with me and my father as he and my mother dragged out a couple of casks of my father's less impressive Ale to sell to the Manling's who would then in turn sell the dwarven ale to the local nobility of wherever they came from.