The sun rises and falls, the moon wanes and waxes, the seasons come and go. A volcano spews a bit of soot, which lands into a river that winds around. The village at the foot of the volcano is teeming with life, between fishers, merchants, citizens and more. Below it all, deep underground, is an old forge. The fire has been stoked since the place was built, and the air is turning stale.
“Oof. Dang pipes must be getting clogged again.” I have been working down here for the past 3 decades, but the ancient pipes leading to the surface slowly get clogged with soot from the volcano. “It’s time to take a break and clean the place again. Where did that mirror go?” I searched through the pile of scraps and rejected projects, muttering to myself.
At the top of the pile is a sword stuck in a stone. “The immovable sword. A fun gimmick, but anyone who knows the trick can pull it out.” Further in the pile, there is a lamp. “The lamp of scents. You just had to rub it to make the oil stored inside to effuse into the air. Unfortunately, it was also a breathing hazard.” Near the bottom of the pile, is a full length mirror. “Ah, there it is. A full length mirror that shows you at the best angles. Others didn’t like the fact that even their best angles weren’t flattering.” I laugh a bit, causing dust to fly into the air.
As I get a good look at the mirror, I can’t help but notice the reflection within. There stands a man who is middle aged and clean shaven. He is dressed in blacksmith’s garbs along with an apron of the best leather I can get my hands on: Ashen Bats. The figure in the mirror is also a bit short among humans. I’d be disappointed, but dwarfs are rarely as tall as humans anyways.
I prop up the mirror next to the door, and check the reflection. The room looks pretty bad, even with its powers. All it reflects is a simple rectangular room filled with piles of random materials and objects. Along the ceiling run some lamps, giving the place a decent amount of light. In the mirror, I can also see the light of the forge glow a bit brighter than it does in reality. The anvil in the background can barely be made out, underneath all the scrap lying around.
“Ugh, I hate dealing with the other dwarves. Man, when's the last time I even talked to someone.” I count on my fingers for a bit before I remember. “Oh yeah, 4 years. Best time of my life, besides being a child.” I pry open the metal door leading out of the forge. It squeaks worse than the ashen bats, and dang are those noisy. Damned things wouldn’t shut up when I was hunting some for my apron.
Beyond the doorway, is a stairway leading up to a small house. I don’t spend much time here, except to pick up the regularly scheduled deliveries of food. The Chefs around here are a real blessing to the community. There’s also a stack of newspapers that are delivered once a year. I’ve never been one to pay much attention to news, so they usually end up in my forge, to give the fire a treat. I trundle my way through the house, which looks to be barely lived in if I put it nicely.
The front door has a slot for the food deliveries and newspaper, both of which are lying there. It’s a little early, but one of the chefs must have had a new idea. I open the box with the food, and find myself with a halibut that has been smoked whole but still looks plump and full. There’s a note along with the fish about how it is stuffed with herbs to promote long term health. I eat the thing in a couple bites, my powerful jaws having no trouble with the bones left in it. Tastes pretty good, although all the soot I’ve been inhaling dulls the flavor a bit.
I push open the door, looking out into the cavernous hallway. It’s a straight path, with a slight incline which leads to the surface. Doors dot the sides of a carved out cave. A river runs down the center of the cave, with stone bridges every 20 meters or so. I spotted one of my neighbors and only friends outside after a minute of looking around.
I wave to another stout man with a glorious beard. “Howdy Carpenter Ben. How's it been recently?” He looks around quickly before answering. “Haven’t you heard Magic Smith Beardless?” “Heard what?” “The other side is stirring. People are getting ready for war.” “Oh my! Weren’t we supposed to be informed at the first sign of war?” Carpenter Ben awkwardly coughs. “Well, we were. You know how the Artisans view you Beardless. They think you’re crazy as is, and weren’t worth informing. We were only told about it yesterday, and I was going to let you know in a sec, I promise. I just had to drop some stuff off at my house first.” Carpenter Ben shows him some bags filled with bits of wood that radiate mana.
I knew that while Carpenter Ben could craft a magnificent keel, he couldn’t craft himself a spine. “Mhm. When’s the recruitment start?” “The gates are opening again, in just a couple days. I hear that there’s already a massive crowd of humans, and even a few elves and beastman.” Good timing. Maybe I can trick some fools into cleaning my forge for me. Before I leave to get a new anvil though, I should ask the most important thing.
“Who’s the Chef in charge of today's meal?” “The hero is- wait, I thought you were going to ask about who the hero is.” I retort,” I don’t really care.” “You’re such a spoilsport. I think Chef Cecil is in charge today.” “Thanks. His meal was really good, you should try it if you haven’t already.” “Oh then I should get going. Good luck on the recruitment Magic Smith Beardless!” “You too Carpenter Ben.”
I headed down the tunnel to the anvil shop. They didn’t sell much, but they were the only ones to make and sell normal anvils. The shop has an elegant painting on their doorway, depicting an amber devil core anvil. I’d buy one, except it costs more than 100 normal anvils, and I only go through a normal anvil every 5 years. I push open the door, which feels amazingly soft despite the hard appearance, and walk in. Carpenter Ben really outdid himself with this door.
“Welcome to my shop Magic Smith Beardless. Is it time for another anvil already?” The shop keeper, a young woman of a dwarf, greets me. Her hair weaves around her neck like a beard, as is the fashion. I nod. “We’ve got a sale going if you’re interested. Any anvils you buy after the first one are 50% off. Only applies to anvils of the same type.” I had to deliberate a bit. I only came for one anvil, and I didn’t really want to buy any extra since it would take more space and time to maintain them. But, maybe I should buy a few if someone is crazy enough to work for me.
“I’ll go with 5 basic anvils. The details will be determined later, once I’ve recruited some people.” She taps the table in thought. “I’ll need a deposit of 10% in order to hold the anvils for you. It’s a busy time you know?” She raises her finely manicured eyebrow. “Yeah yeah. How about this, I’ll go grab my old mana stained anvil and sell it as well.” “Well, I could sell it for a couple of silvers. You’ve got a deal, Magic Smith Beardless.”
I hurried back home to grab my anvil. It was fairly heavy, but nothing a healthy adult dwarf couldn’t lift with one hand. This one was made out of wrought iron. There were small dings here and there, but nothing major. It would be suitable for a 2nd hand anvil, and slightly better for smiths in their experimental stage.
Basic anvils were popular among smiths, especially those who needed to save their money for other materials. But a worked Anvil was worth much more. One used by a sword smith could result in stronger swords, or a hammer smith, in heavier hammers. Unfortunately, as a Magic Smith, or in simpler terms, a blacksmith who makes a variety of magic items, I need a fresh anvil or else the imbued mana would interfere with my works.
The next few days passed, and I left my home along with the sword in the stone. I could see all the other Artisans getting set up in front of their homes as well. Some had laid out shelves of their works, others had decided to forge in public, and a few had set tests for potential recruits. I put my sword in the stone on the ground, got a chair from Carpenter Ben, and a couple of cold drinks to pass the time.
The gates wouldn’t open for another hour, but already a few finely dressed people were wandering the street. I would guess that they were nobles, or at the very least, had connections. A couple were even talking to Carpenter Ben, getting a feel for his works. If they got recruited by Ben, it could go one of two ways. They could be customers, in which case they would frequently visit so that Ben could learn more about them and make sure that his works would be perfect. Or, they could become his apprentice, following his craft. I didn’t really care which one the people I recruited turned out to be. As long as there was potential, that was all that mattered.
A finely dressed young man with a knight accompanying them came to my area, and started checking out the sword in the stone. “Feel free to try and pull it out,” I said. The knight gave a polite salute, and started pulling. After a quick attempt, he repositioned himself to get a better stance. Another attempt, and another failure. While the knight kept trying to pull it out, the noble next to him walked up to me and started talking. “I’ll pay you 30 gold if you’re willing to make something for me.” I just pointed at the sword in the stone.
Now that I got a closer look at the man, he was younger than I realized. He was somewhere in the 10-30 years range. The noble continued speaking, after flipping their blonde hair. “I can tell by your lack of a beard that you’re a young dwarf. It’s simple, I pay you for goods and services, and you accept.” I shake my head. This Error possessed troublemaker was in for it.
I had to get out of my wonderful chair, rising to my full height of 4 foot 8 inches. I tilted my head up to look him in the eye. “I don’t know who you are, but there are rules that we artisans follow. First of all, we decide who we work for. If we wanted gold, we could get tons of it in an instant. Instead, we seek out worthy customers for our creations and inspirations.” I took a step forward. I noticed the knight had stopped trying to pull out the sword, and was approaching, but kept their hands off their sword. “Secondly, you are trying to scam a young dwarf. Clearly, you’re not from around here, because I am known as Magic Smith Beardless, Master rank. In case that can’t get through your skull, the ranks are Recruit, Apprentice, Aid, Seeker, Smith, Master, and Grand Master.”
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
I take another step closer while the noble stammers. The knight seems to be better at reading the room, and backs off slightly. I continued,“I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” “I am Barry Allen, son of Count Allen, and first in line. I could have you arre-.” The knight behind Barry grabs him and shuts him up. He bows,” So sorry for the behavior of my master, I will make sure he doesn’t come back here.” The knight muttered something else, but I was barely able to catch it. “Truly fitting of his title: the fastest man alive, at getting into trouble.” As the knight dragged the fool away, I left them with one last message. “I’m also 99.”
I would need to send a message to the gate about Barry Allen, so that he’s not allowed back in here. I waited a bit, until I saw a messenger dwarf pass by. I got his attention, and had him deliver a simple letter, sealed with a small piece of glowing iron. As I watched the youngling scamper off, I saw a crowd of people heading the other way. The gates must have opened. I settled back into my chair, and cracked open another bottle. This was going to be a long week.
The first day passed without incident. I noticed some of my neighbors managed to recruit a couple people. It’s a shame no one was able to pull the sword out of the stone yet. Many a few tried, especially those who were traveling as couples. I ended up spending my time scanning the crowd. It was all humans who appeared to be on the richer side. Perhaps tomorrow will be more interesting.
I heard a bit of commotion after I went back to my house. Probably some fools trying to hide in the hallway and steal things. Little did they know, we had a horde of Ashen Bats pass through every night. Nasty creatures they were. They were 6 feet tall, but had impeccable hearing and dropped ash all over the place. If anything invisible was outlined by the ash, they would pick them up and try to drown them in ash in an attempt to kill their prey. Dwarves were their natural enemy though, being too heavy to lift and excellent at breathing in ash. Anything else though would struggle quite a bit.
The next day, all the Artisans got prepared once more. The gates opened, and a new crowd entered the hallway. They looked like adventurers, and a couple of rich folk from farther lands. Much more variety too. I spotted Elves, Frelves, Beastfolk, and even a few young dwarfs. Even more interesting, one of the human adventurers managed to pull out the sword. They were a human woman of 12-36 years old if I saw right. I approached her when I saw what she had done. “Greetings, I am Magic Smith Beardless, Master rank. You are?” She jumped a little, and had a wide grin on her face. “Oh my god, I can’t believe I managed to pull the sword out! What happens now? Do I get to keep the sword?” Cough. “Oh right, I’m Elisa.” She stretched her hand out to me. I just raised an eyebrow at it.
“Congratulations on passing the test Elisa. I am willing to recruit you for a single craft of mine. Or you may become my apprentice if you’re interested. I’ll need that sword for future tests though.” I reach out my hand. Elisa shakes it while pouting. “Ah man, I thought this was one of those fairy tale swords that chooses you. I’ve got to be a hero, so I can’t apprentice under you. Not enough time before the war starts.” I’m confused by the hand shaking, and still waiting for the sword. “You’re a hero?” She proudly puffs up her chest. “I got 4th place in the hero tournament.” Then she deflates and hands the sword back. “Unfortunately no one cares about 4th place, so I came here to get my own stuff.”
I nod. “I’m sure we can work something out. Do you have a place to stay? If not, you can live here until the item is built.” She deflates even more. “4th place only got me 10 gold. If Inns weren’t so expensive here, I could rent one out for a year. I’d like to take you up on your offer.” She smiles once more, as if it had never left her face. We get the details sorted out after I put the sword back in the stone. She left to prepare for the move at the end of the week, and I had to clear out a storage room so someone could live in it.
I even found some items I thought I had lost a long time ago. There was a pair of dusty boots, which would create a cloud of dust if someone stomped while wearing them. I found my hungry broom nearby, which had grown a bit since I last remembered. Once I crafted something that made a mess, I needed to craft something to deal with the mess. Can’t remember why I tossed them in here, but I moved them into the pile of scrap in my forge.
The next day, another person managed to pull out the sword. They really caught me off guard, considering they were an elf. It wasn’t uncommon to have elves visit to compare our works, but they rarely sought to be recruited by us. He started introducing himself while I was still stunned in my chair. “Hello dwarf. I am Alvin, a lorekeeper. I’m seeking your services to make a storage device.” I got a good look at them. He was around 7 feet tall, skinny as a staff, and white as an aspen tree. His eyes were large, almost bulbous, and his ears were narrow and long, each one as long as his head was wide. He also had long green hair, which reminded me of a weeping willow tree.
“Uh greetings. I am Magic Smith Beardless, Master rank. You’re sure you want something made by a dwarf?” Alvin confirms,” I need this item built and I understand how skilled dwarves are.” I just shrugged, although my face turned a little red. Not the first time I cursed my beardless-ness. We got the details worked out on whether or not he wanted to stay in the house for the duration. He agreed, and left to get prepared, just like Elisa.
I spent that night clearing another storage room. At this rate, it seemed like I would have to clear out all the rooms, so I went ahead and moved everything to the scrap pile. Maybe I would get a use out of all the anvils I had ordered. I also worked to expand the room and halls a bit, so that Alvin would be able to work comfortably. My hammer of expansion was made just for that.
The third day, I heard a commotion had occurred at the gate. Some fool had tried to run past the guards, but they spectacularly failed and were jailed. There were a lot less people today, and no one was in the mood to recruit. I did spot Cecil walking by, and made sure to let him know what I thought of his food. He also had a couple humans following him. They were hounding him for recipes.
On the fourth day, I spotted a group surrounding some powerful looking adventurers. They didn’t seem interested in taking my test, and seemed to be seeking a swordsmith instead. One the fifth day, I spotted something new. There was a large green fellow with ram-like horns sprouting from their forehead. They tried to pull out my sword, but failed and moved on. I talked to my neighbors after, and they told me that the person was an orc. Apparently, they live near the border and no one knew much about them besides some rumors.
As the 6th day rolled around, the orc came by again and failed. Their green skin seemed to turn red briefly, but maybe I had been drinking too much. A couple others also tried, but none came even close. I also spoke with Elisa again, and she asked if I could advise her on what should be built, which I agreed to. I would have to see her current equipment first, and figure out what kind of adventurer she was though.
As the last day came, the dwarves visited. All the younglings and those who chose to pursue the art of battle would come and seek new items, or shift paths to become an Artisan. There were also dwarves from farther reaches, who visited since the Volcano had the best forges. Every time a dwarf struggled with the sword, I couldn’t help but feel satisfied. The orc also came by, but they just sat and stared at the sword in the stone for a while.
It wasn’t until a rare dwarf mage attempted to pull out the sword that someone succeeded. We were able to cut the chit chat since we were both dwarves, and they decided to go to another dwarf to be recruited. They wanted to learn how to craft a very specific item to help their spell casting, so I directed them towards the highest skilled jeweler. As I put the sword back in place, the orc came up and tried to pull it out again. This time I was sober, since the end of the day is when the first lesson would start.
They got into position, wiped their hands, and took a few deep breaths. I could see their muscles expand, and they pulled with everything they had. Their skin turned maroon, and green tattoos became visible with the contrast. They were sweating like crazy, but interestingly their hands stayed dry. They kept pulling on the sword, and with a click, the sword was launched into the ceiling of the cave. A couple of small rocks tumbled down onto them, but they just bounced off. All the dwarves nearby who had tried started clapping, and a few had pulled out some cold beers from who knows where.
“I’ve never seen someone so dedicated to my little test before. What is it that you wish to have crafted? Or do you wish to learn the art of a Magic Smith?” It took them a few moments to catch their breath, but they responded in a deep voice,” I want perfect weapon.” I smiled a bit on the inside. “A hard task indeed. But, nothing I can’t handle. Are you going to be living here or do you have arrangements nearby?” They sat down tired from the exertion, bringing them to my eye level. “Inns all full. I sleep outside.” I rolled my eyes a bit. “What is your name?” “Don’t have name. Not yet. Not enough achievements.” That threw me for a loop. I had to think for a bit. “I don’t mean to be rude, but are you a man or a woman?”
I looked at the green humanoid, twice my height and width, but I couldn’t see the long hair or beard that defined dwarves. They slowly got up, reaching their full height of nearly 8 feet. With their horns, they came closer to 9 feet. “I am woman. Warrior.” “Are you ok with the name Chloe for now? It will be hard to communicate without one.” “Ok.” “Do you need to get anything before you live here?” “Everything I have is here,” Chloe pointed at herself. She was wearing some simple garments, had a small pack of presumably food or money, and a couple of large bones tied to her belt.
“Alright, give me a bit of time to expand the place, and it will be ready for you.” I picked up my stone, and threw it at the sword stuck in the ceiling. The stone hit the sword, knocking it loose but not falling quite yet. I caught the stone on the way down, turned it right side up, and let the sword fall from the ceiling back into the stone. I then brought the item back into my house and left it in the scrap pile before getting to the house itself. A couple whacks with the expansion hammer, and the place was suitable for an orc. The engineers really knew how to build a place. All the walls and ceilings were made to slide around, allowing for a smaller house with more rooms or a larger house with less. It’s a shame the last storage room had to be removed, but I couldn’t really teach them if they couldn’t even stand up straight.
I went back outside and waved at Chloe. “Place is all ready. Once everyone arrives, I’ll go through the ground rules. Anyways, I’ve got a couple things to deal with. Feel free to take an empty room for yourself, and don’t go past the metal door just yet.” I sent a message to the Chefs about the new inhabitants, and went to the anvil smith to get the anvils setup. “Hey Anvil Smith Pam, I’ve decided on how I want the anvils modified.” The Artisan looked up from their desk. “Sure Magic Smith Beardless. I’m a bit backed up, but you did order early. What are you doing for your four anvils?”
“I’ll get one anvil sized for a human, one for an elf, and one for an orc.” “An orc? That has to be double the regular size!” “Consider the extra anvil to be part of the orc’s.” I tried to give Pamela a wink. Due to a lack of experience, it looked more like I had some metal shavings in my eye. “Ugh fine. You’re a consistent customer, which is more than I can say about most of the Artisans. They’ll be ready tomorrow, Magic Smith Beardless.” “Thanks Pam.” I flash her a smile, which was actually filled with metal shavings.