Omen: 11, 20
‘Should I make a greater enchantment on my axe?’ Adam thought. He wasn’t sure how much time he had, but he wanted to make it a perfect weapon, and he needed a week. He was fairly certain he wouldn’t have enough time by the time Jurot returned and they’d need to go deal with Vonda’s request.
After exchanging his cold hard gold, he decided to spend seven hundred gold on his axe, a fairly decent chunk of gold for a basic weapon, though he wanted to make sure it was enhanced with certain features.
Mana: 18 -> 16
Enchanting Check
D20 + 7 = 24 (17)
Omen: 11, 20 -> 11
20 + 7 = 27
Adam plucked a Thread of Fate.
“Uncle Az, guest has come,” called the young boy, who was no more than seven years old.
The man placed down his book. “Ask your mother to make some tea,” he replied, strapping his sword to his side, before stepping out the cabin which he had built the previous year.
A fence had been built around the cabin, which sat atop a small hill, overlooking the small village nearby.
The guest who had arrived had come from Gryphon back, from far to the West, even beyond Aswadia. He wore a breastplate, a long cloak over his shoulders, and a sword at his side.
‘What a handsome guy,’ Azazel thought, staring at the guest. Even from here, he could feel the sense of the holy magics which permeated throughout the older man. The Gryphon also gave a great sense of holy magic.
Harold remained silent, staring at the man before him. His dreams had led him here, causing him to even leave his village during a Great Twilight.
“I wasn’t expecting a guest,” Azazel said.
“I am Sir Harold Merryweather,” the older man said.
“What does the previous King’s Sword want with me?” Even all these miles away, the name of the King’s Sword had travelled.
Harold remained quiet for a long while. There was something off about the man before him. It hadn’t taken long for him to understand why.
The man before him was a Demon.
‘Two Demons?’ Harold thought, wondering why they had seemingly returned.
“How rude,” Azazel said. He reached for his blade, and Harold reacted by reaching for his own, the pair almost drawing their weapon in the blink of an eye. It was in that moment, Azazel felt it again.
“Uncle Az,” called the boy, peeking his head through the window. “No milk.”
The pair of men remained standing, hands at their sides innocently, as though they hadn’t tried to cut down the other.
‘Again,’ Azazel thought. ‘Someone keeps playing with Fate.’
“I’ve come to speak with you,” the older man said.
“Sure,” Azazel replied. “I’ll go get the milk. Why don’t you sit inside?”
Harold stepped past him, entering the cabin. Azazel wondered if he should travel the thousands of miles to find the one who was playing with his fate, but decided against it.
Thus Fate was forever changed.
‘I really hope nothing bad is going to happen,’ Adam thought, guiltily. He was messing with Fate even for just a few points to make a greater weapon, but it would have been such a waste to not use it.
Adam continued to enchant and smith throughout the early days of dawnval.
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
Omen: 16, 17
Mana: 18 -> 16
Enchanting Check
D20 + 7 = 15 (8)
Omen: 16, 17 -> 16
17 + 7 = 24
Adam plucked a Thread of Fate.
“Hey, did you hear?” whispered a voice in the corner of the inn. “They say that some old monster’s awoken. Lord Stokkar or something.”
The old stranger with the tattooed forehead placed a hand at the table, towering over the small huddled group.
“Hey, whatcha doin’?” replied the dark skinned patron, narrowing his eyes at the tall stranger.
The stranger pulled his hand away from the table, revealing a small ring made of silver, easily worth a few silver pieces. “That story of yours, could you continue it?”
The fellow quickly scooped up the ring. “Of course! Take a seat, mister.”
The old man sat down at the table, and soon drinks were brought.
“They say some old monster awoke. Lord Stokkar. He can swim through the land like its water, and he’s nestled up in the mountains of Aldland.” The patron continued his tale, speaking of all the rumours he had heard from the sailors and travellers who passed by.
‘What a mess,’ the old man thought. ‘Stokmar’s awoken?’ Later that night he sent word back before cutting off contact once more. He had stated firmly he wouldn’t return for some time, and that he wouldn’t contact the councillors unless it was of extreme importance.
“East Scimitar, shouldn’t we take a break?” called the soldier, staring at the inn ahead.
“We will continue through the night,” East Scimitar replied, commandeering a fresh horse, before continuing on, narrowly missing a meeting with the old man.
Thus Fate was forever changed.
Omen: 2, 17
Mana: 18 -> 16
Enchanting Check
D20 + 7 = 20 (13)
Omen: 2, 17 -> 2
17 + 7 = 24
Adam plucked a Thread of Fate.
West Scimitar grunted as a wyvern fell to his scimitar, ducking under the sting of another, all the while the soldiers behind him hid behind their shields, slowly poking their own wyverns down, though as the seconds passed, there were fewer and fewer soldiers.
‘Damn it,’ he thought, catching a stinger with his blade, before rolling under the creature. There, he saw it, glinting from the corner of his eye.
A soldier cried in terror as a stinger went for his face, before the cry cut off. The soldier’s body whipped up towards the air, before the wyvern thrashed it about. The other soldiers, cold with fear, trembled and broke.
“No!” West Scimitar shouted. “To me! To me!” He had found the core of a wyvern, and not just any wyvern, but a greater wyvern. Such a core was invaluable, and would increase his abilities greatly if they could manage to take it.
If it was under any other circumstance, the soldiers would have broken. However, the wyvern’s stinger was stuck, and West Scimitar, who was battered and bruised, was still eager to fight. The soldiers threw away any sense of self preservation and charged forward, spears piercing through the wyvern’s body, before it fell to the ground.
With his soldiers rallied, West Scimitar slashed across the greater wyvern’s stomach, pushing forward to claim the core.
Thus Fate was forever changed.
[Would you like to spend XP to empower the weapon?]
‘500.’ Adam was glad he had rolled so well for the weapon, keeping the average above a 25.
XP: 7600 -> 7100
Axe
Requires Attunement
You gain a +1 bonus to attack and damage rolls made with this weapon.
Deals 2d6 slashing damage.
You may use this weapon as a component for spells which requires no item worth a monetary cost.
This weapon can transform into a ring at will.
[Would you like to name the weapon?]
‘Wizard’s Axe.’
Wizard’s Axe
Requires Attunement
You gain a +1 bonus to attack and damage rolls made with this weapon.
Deals 2d6 slashing damage.
You may use this weapon as a component for spells which requires no item worth a monetary cost.
This weapon can transform into a ring at will.
XP Gained: +400
XP: 7100 -> 7500
Great enchantment learnt!
XP Gained: +200
XP: 7500 -> 7700
Adam smiled. It wasn’t the best weapon he had made, but it was quite useful. He had half a mind to call it Utility Axe, but chose against it since it was so silly.
“Where is your axe?” Sonarot asked. She was certain he wasn’t going to sell it off since he had wanted to make his own axe.
“What do you mean?” Adam asked.
‘He did return late,’ Sonarot thought. “You should have finished the axe today. You did not spend enough to enchant a greater weapon, and you did not wish to sell it.”
“It’s right here.” Adam raised up his hand, and as he did, the ring shifted into an axe within his grip. He had spent an hour meditating with the weapon to attune to it, just so he could make the joke.
Sonarot raised her brows in surprise, but smiled. It was the same enchantment he had placed on Lucy’s Destroyer. “How amazing.”
“Right?” Adam said, offering her the axe. “It’s a little stronger than a normal axe, and the other features are more useful to me. I can use it to channel my spells, and it can turn to a ring at will.”
Sonarot swung the axe, cutting into some wood, finding the axe could cut through it like butter. “It is quite the axe.”
“Aren’t they all?”
Sonarot smiled. “Did you not wish to enchant the weapon with fire, or another?”
Adam glanced around, noting the other Iyrmen’s faces. He understood she was talking about a very specific damage type. “Even I can learn my lesson, Aunt.”
There was an awkwardness within the air. Adam had lost his greatest weapon due to the Great Elders, who did not trust him with it after he had defeated three of the Iyrmen before him, two of whom he had faced back to back on the same day.
Adam smiled and winked.