First, the layer of dyed blue silk; second, the protective layer of adamantine; third, the final layer of dyed silk, and lastly to seal the layers together with a bit of heat and string. These were the steps that Azura had perfected over the course of the three months that he was in this place.
Many robes were made, and many more were discarded. As Azura had feared, the robe as a whole needed to be perfect. Not a single imperfection must be in any seams. The first and last part of the robe, the cloth and embroidery, but creating the robe itself, styling it, and fitting it to his body. He normally sells his well-made cloth with the embroideries to tailors instead of making a final piece himself, but for once he was the one making the robe, and he is stuck.
Steam emanated from the bath, and an opening on the ceiling near one of the walls poured newly created hot water into the never-ending bath below. Creating a mini-waterfall of rejuvenation. Azura watched the water fell, and ponder upon his next actions. He could bang his head again and again trying to make a it work or what? There was nothing else Azura could feasibly think of doing.
He scanned the room for what feels like the hundredth time, trying to find inspiration, but his eyes always landed back on the tiny waterfall. It was small and deceptively simple to make. It was just a hole in the ceiling, and undoubtedly, some kind of water-creating mana stone was likely above it.
“Simple, eh?” He said while reaching his hand in to the bath and splashing the water.
At this point in time, Azura had started to speak his thoughts out loud. If only to hear a voice of any kind. Since the only sound in this forsaken room was the sound of the waterfall. The task set for him wasn’t some monstrously unfeasible task, but just one of his own making and folly. Thinking back to that dwarf, who he hadn’t even gotten the name of.
“What did he look like again? I have almost forgotten, oh he had this magnificent beard.” Azura pantomimed the dwarf’s mane. If he had not been stuck in this place for so long, he would’ve laughed at himself just now.
“And he wore… a pair of pants and tunic.” Azura scratched at his neck spines as he said this.
“Wait, that’s it!” He stood up and raced back to the living room, which was in a state of disarray.
Several of the pillows had been completely disassembled from his frustration. Even the rug was not saved from this, with a huge gash in its surface from Azura’s wicked claws.
Giddily, he pulled out the threads of pre-dyed silk and adamantite from one of the discarded piles. Once more, he began to weave. The silk slowly formed into a sheet in the blink of an eye, but this was because he had not blinked in an hour, for he was concentrating hard on his task. The threads carefully interlock together to form a cohesive whole, and in the span of three hours, a large sheet of beautifully crafted cloth was produced.
Azura only stopped to admire his work for but a second as he started to get out some measuring tapes made from cloth. These were however not ordinary measuring tools, but expansive enchanted magical tapes, that costed a pretty sum. They function like flying swords but are much more precise and slower. The useful thing about them is that they make a vague temporary model of a person’s figure.
Using these, Azura quickly measured out his torso and had the tapes float in the air like a pseudo mannequin. Mapping where to stitch and cut the piece took hours, as a cut in the wrong place would ruin his progress. As the piece had adamantine in it, it was tricky to cut, as adamantine was virtually invulnerable to his precise wind cuts. So in the end, he had to work hard to cut it with his sword, but even then, the task took way too long.
After he finished putting together the tunic, he repeated this process again on the pants, and no issue there either expect for the time it had taken. When he was finished with the second task, he finally admired the articles of clothing. They were a shade deep azure and had no flaws inside or on the outside.
He sighed in relief, for he had done it, but he couldn’t celebrate just yet. He still has to embroider the design and runes on it first. Throughout the three months that he was trapped in, he had burned through hundreds of crowns worth of material. Crowns are the second highest denomination of currency in this world, and are gold-alloyed coins.
The last was, albeit the easiest of the three, embroidery. Taking the gold threads and slowly stitching the runes on the inside of the clothing. They range from simple stain prevention and self-mending runes to higher tier ones like resistances to possible damage and, finally the most complicated one, alteration.
Aside from the runes, he also made some nice stylized depictions of dragons flying through some clouds on the outside of the tunic and pants.
Just like that, he was finished and of course, had to try it on. He went into the baths and marveled at the reflection in the water. Although the tunic and pants didn’t fit him, the design of the clothing did. Then, he look pass the clothing, his eyes were bloodshot from the lack of sleep, and weeks of dead scales clung to him.
His hygiene was down the rabbit hole. Bits of meat that he hadn’t noticed stuck between his teeth. He had been subsisting off of nothing but conjured raw meat for three months. He also has been sub-consciously repressing the smell, and just now realize he really really needed a bath.
After a bath that involved intense scrubbing and cleaning magics, he was in a more satisfactory condition again; Azura stared at the reflection for a solid three minutes before snapping back to reality by a series of silver letters announcing his new achieving.
Level Increased: [Wind Weaver] 56
Level Increased: [Wind Weaver] 57
Level Increased: [Wind Weaver] 58
Level Increased: [Wind Weaver] 59
A whole three levels! It had been a while since he gained a level in one of his main classes. No new skills, but that was to be expected as he was closing up one his next threshold. Now, to leave this place.
Azura searched around the rooms for a clue, then he remembered the token that brought him inside and went to the "table" to try and create a new token. The token was created, after picking it up a transferring mana into it, he felt the famlier tugging sensation as he was transported back into the main room.
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***
The trial chamber was mostly empty except for some of the dwarven smiths who had undoubtedly finished quite early. Now, it was just a waiting game. Azura paced around while he waited, and suddenly, a voice startled him.
“Damn, it feels good to be out of that place.”
Azura turned and saw the dwarf he was waiting for appear from thin air. The dwarf looked terrible, it looked like he hadn’t even taken a bath before he got out.
“Took you long enough.”
“Ugh, It’s you again. Of course, the first face I see is your ugly mug.” The dwarf scowled half-heartedly.
“Wait—” Azura was about to open his mouth but was stopped when the dwarf interrupted him while holding up one soot covered finger.
“I have considered your offer, and I have one question for you, why a smith? Wouldn’t you be better off working with a tailor?”
Azura paused and pondered about the best way to answer his question.
“It is true it would be better for me to work with a tailor, but the business I am hopeing to fund would be tailored to a more lucrative type of customer.”
The dwarf recoiled slightly by the pun, but cut on to what he was saying.
“Adventurers.”
“Correct. I hope to have a business that can supply the adventurers with most of their armor and clothing.”
“That sounds quite interesting, but how would that work?”
“Well—”
***
The negotiations were a success, while they waited for the other artisans to come back to the chamber. To sum it up, they agreed on a fifty-fifty split in taxes for the shared building and will be mostly working separately. Throughout the negotiations, he also finds out that the dwarf is called Dawen Thunderhelm. Also he was already living in Ichorow for a while now, so it would be simple to start their plans.
“Dawen, what masterpiece did you create?” They were getting along fine now and were able to talk about more things than the business.
“You tell yours first, then I will tell mine.”
“Fine.” Azura gestured to his clothing proudly.
“Fine indeed.” The dwarf stroke his beard.
“It is masterwork seven at least.”
“Only seven?” Azura asked incredulously.
“I will admit the craftsmanship is indeed superb, but—”
“But?”
“Why is your great treasure a set of simple tunic and pants?”
“It’s like that because–-” Thankfully, he was prevented from admitting it was a lack of skill by the flash of light that was the messenger reappearing.
“Congratulations on the completion of your trial. The system has acknowledged your achievements. You can now leave the trial by activating the token.”
And like that, the trial was over. All in all, it was a simple affair. As he activated his token, he told the Dawen where he could find him. He nodded and disappeared. The other artisan also started to disappear, but he was still there. He found that he was unable to activate his token. He tried futilely as the messenger slowly started to drift over.
“The purpose of the Artisan Trial is not just to reward the talents of the world.”
“Have I offended you in some way, great messenger of the system?” Azura’s mind was going into overdrive as he tried to figure out why the system had prevented him from exiting the trial. Did I break some unspoken things in the trial, or was it mad that I trashed the living room in the token?
“On the contrary, you have caught the eye of the system.”
Azura waited for the messenger to elaborate.
“The trial serves as a way for the system to find suitable candidates for the position of Ambassador of the system.”
Ambassador? Isn’t that like something like the person that different races send to appease peace of something?
“What does being an Ambassador entail?”
“Those details can only be revealed upon accepting the position.”
Of course, but at least I am not in any sort of trouble right now.
“So, does accepting this role cause any adverse changes?” The messengers of the system are like a more intelligent version of a golem, or so that is what Telos told me.
“None that will be caused by accepting the role.”
“I see… but what are the benefits of becoming this Ambassador?” Aside from being related to the system without being a chosen?
“The benefits of the role include granting one wish from yourself and a boon if you manage to defeat this messenger in a duel of your choosing.”
“I accept!” Azura immediately replies without a second of thought. A wish from the system, let alone the prospect of a boon? This was the stuff of legends! There were stories where a chosen of Navours was granted a wish that gave them powerful artifacts, boons, and even sometimes aid from the system, although the last ones were usually more indirect. However, this sounds way too fishy, but if it is true. Whatever consequences must be worth it.
“Then, I hereby offer you the position of [Ambassador of Navorus].”
Azura realized too late that in his excitement, he forgot to even ask for what an [Ambassador of Navorus] even do.
Suddenly, the room they were in shifted. The marble room changed to a smaller room that was equally empty. But instead of marble, the walls and ceiling are now made of pieces of the night sky. The floor remained relatively unchanged. It was still marble but now with a new shine of polish.
“So about those boons you speak of.” Azura smiled mischievously, he wouldn’t say no to free things.
Azura thought the messenger sighed in resignation before straightening even more and speaking to him.
“What wish do you want.”
It was a direct question, as the system usually was, and Azura had only one single thing in mind.
“Improve my bloodline.” It was the wish of every dragoonian child to become a dragon, and improving his bloodline was the first step towards that goal. It is said that dragoons were formed from the blood of dragons, and he heard that from a very credible source.
“Very well it is done.” The messenger nodded as if it was a simple matter.
Azura waited for some grand feeling of power flowing through but felt, well… nothing.
“Improving a bloodline is not an instant affair, it will take time for your body to see some changes.”
The messenger waited for Azura to collect himself before continuing.
“In order to receive the boon, you will need to win one duel of your choosing out of three. Take as much time as you need.”
So there was a catch: dueling against a messenger of Navorus, the very being that created the worlds. This was likely just a test of his wits rather really a chance to gain a boon. Scratching an itch at the base of his throat, he realized something.
“How about a duel of dragon’s fire?”