Test tubes of dodge elixir in hand I went hunting for my fellow dwarves. I found the two I was looking for in the smithy on the edge of the parade ground. The heat of the forge felt good after the cold of the outside.

Walking in I went to the fire to warm my hands. “If you’re gonna take up space, you have to help. Pump those bellows. That will warm you up!” Hera cried, hammer in hand. She went back to beating on a piece of armor.

The crash of hammer on anvil was as loud as you would expect. It’s weird that no fantasy stories ever talk about hearing loss in smiths. There wasn’t any hearing protection anywhere. I guess the Occupational Safety and Health Administration didn’t exactly have jurisdiction here.

Looking around, I found the bellows. The big leather sacks had a top handle I’d push towards the ground to blow air into the forge and heat it up. I took a firm grip on the wooden handle and started pumping. Bringing the handle all the way down was a quick process, but did require a lot of steady strength.

Long dwarven arms were made for this! Up, down, up, down. It went on for what seemed like forever. Up, down, up, down. The draw and wheeze of the bellows sounded like a great monster.

Sweat was dripping into my gemstone eyes. The whole world was pump, pump, pump. I turned around and saw El Tar and Hera sitting down, just looking at me.

They both burst into laughter. The bastards! “I was wondering how long you’d keep that up.” Hera giggled.

“Ugh, move woman. I need to sit down.” I staggered over to her chair. She scooted over, making room. “How long were you watching me?”

“After we finished? Probably about half an hour.” El Tar grinned.

“You two just watched me having a heart attack?” I groaned.

“I mean, you were doing great. We kept expecting you to stop, but you just kept pumping away.” Hera shook her head.

“You better have gear for me after all my work!” I said, laying back a bit.

“I believe we were talking about a trade?” Hera said as she got up. The dwarf went over to a wooden counter and rustled around for a moment. “Do you have your part of the trade?”

“Oh yeah! I’m the alchemy master.” I pumped one hand in the air, the rest of my body lying bonelessly on Hera’s chair. “I learned a recipe. It’s a dodge elixir. You drink it and for a while you’ll avoid harm.”

“That,” El Tar said, pointing a thick finger my way, “isn’t what you promised. You said there would be something we could splash on an enemy. What about dwarven physiology makes you think we’d be good at dodging?” He got up and broke down, short legs pumping as he ran in place like a receiver in football. He then pirouettes like a ballerina, except it looked a lot like an elephant trying to tap dance.

Hera and I both laughed, hard. She snorted, and that got us laughing harder. “Okay Baryshnikov, we get it.” I told him.

“What did you call me?” El Tar’s brow furrowed.

“Baryshnikov. You know, he was that ballet dancer that defected from The Soviet Union in the 70’s.” I held my hands out, baffled he wouldn’t know something that obvious.

“The 70’s? Like, the 1970’s? That’s something like thirty years before I was born. I’m in high school back in our world. I play wide receiver, can you tell?” He jogged in place again, miming a Heisman pose.

“Ugh, I’m surrounded by children.” I put my face in my hands.

Looking up, I said, “Just because we’re not great at dodging doesn’t mean we can’t do it. Besides, it’s the only recipe I have at the moment. I’ll learn more. We’re going to do the trade, right?”

Hera handed me a bronze oval. One side was highly shined, though I could see the impact marks her hammer had made. The other side was covered in a deep brown leather and had a handle. The sewing looked like someone used tennis shoe laces. “Oh, this is a good mirror. Thank you.”

“You know Conan, the ogre from fourth squad?” Hera asked. I nodded. “He had a couple of skill points he hadn’t used. He took up the craft of tanning/leatherworking.”

“Ah, so this is the result…” I held up the leather side.

“Yup, that’s what it looks like when an ogre puts two points to a craft and has a -2 to Acumen.” She nodded.

“All things considered, it looks really good.” I grinned.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“All things considered, you’re right.” She chuckled. “You should have seen him trying to sew. Those huge ogre fingers putting thread through the eye of the needle.” She closed one eye and mimed sticking a thread through a needle with her tongue sticking out of a clenched jaw. We all got a chuckle out of that.

“We really shouldn’t make fun.” El Tar said.

“Why not? He’s a turd.” I told them.

“You know back in the world, he’s like ten, right?” The male gold dwarf told us.

“Wow, really? I thought he was immature. I had no idea he was that immature.” I said quietly. “He did contribute. The handle is a nice touch. I have three extra elixirs and Bron hasn’t made us a bow or anything. I guess it can go to Conan.”

El Tar slapped me on the back. “Good. That’ll make him feel like part of the team. With everyone else being so much older, he’s struggled fitting in.”

“That’s crazy. He’s just a child. What is he doing here?” I shook my head. “What are any of us doing here?”

“Right? I should be leading my team to an undefeated season, not stuck in a forge beating on metal.” El Tar mimed catching a football.

“I was in nursing school.” Hera said quietly. “Supposed to graduate next semester. First one in my family to finish college. Not now I guess.”

There was a long pause in conversation before I said, “El Tar, show me what you’ve got!” with lots of false enthusiasm. I clapped my hands, which made a much lower booming noise than it would when I was a human. Weird.

El Tar went over to a different table. This one was covered with partially made knives, daggers without hilts and things of that nature. There were a few sacks about the size of a double fist on it and he grabbed one. “Check it out!”

He came over and got me to hold out my hands. I did. He dumped a bag full of sharpened jacks into my outspread hands.

-1 hp

“Aaaaah!” I yelled and moved my hands, spilling caltrops everywhere. “What the hell, man? Those are sharp!” I started pacing around the room and instantly stepped on caltrops.

-1 hp – 1/3rd movement rate for five minutes

I stood still, jaws clenched. Hera said from the other side of the room, “That looked like it sucked.”

“Yes, it did.” I said in a too calm voice.

“Man, I’m so sorry.” El Tar said, kneeling down to pick up all the caltrops. “I… My bad.”

“Okay, successful field test. The caltrops do work.” I gingerly went over to the chair and sat down, pulling the several caltrops out of my boots. Only one had penetrated all the way into my foot, but one was enough.

While El Tar was gathering up all the spilled caltrops, I waited out the timer for my slowed movement rate. I did grab one of the spiky little things. They did look like jacks, but much bigger. Each one was made of three nails forged together in the middle. All six tips were sharp. There was a dark material, sort of like tar on them. “What’s this?” I scraped a bit off with my fingernail to show the gold dwarves.

“Ah, bootblack!” El Tar said enthusiastically. “I got some from one of the guards. The caltrops were a little shiny and that could give them away if you’re using it on an intelligent foe. So I put the bootblack all over them. There won’t be a sheen that way.” He finally gathered all the caltrops he could find and put them back in the bag.

I noticed the sack containing them was pretty thick and badly sewn. More of the huge, thick threads went down the side. There was a pull string around the top though, which was cleverly done. “Is this more of Conan’s work?” I asked.

El Tar nodded, “Yeah, you can tell he’s already gotten better and he really does want to help.”

“The leather is better formed and tanned than the mirror. His sewing is weak.” I looked over the bag closely.

Hera said, “He’s going to have problems with delicate work. His fingers are just so big. I think he’ll do well with the containers and armor part of leatherwork, though.”

“Okay, here are your elixirs.” I pulled out two clay vials and handed one to each of them. “Thanks so much for these.” I said, holding up the mirror with one hand and two bags of caltrops with the other.

“How long will these last?” El Tar asked, taking the cork out and sniffing.

“I don’t know, dude. Once we all get back from our next priority test we’ll need to compare notes.” I told him. They both nodded.

I strolled out, waving to both of them goodbye. In the parade ground, a bunch of the combat focused guys were paying something that looked a lot like rugby. It was with a round leather ball and you could either kick the ball or run with it. I’m not sure what the rules were but the tackling was extreme. Marko the ogre brutalized Tomaz the human, leaving him laying the ground groaning while everyone scrambled for the ball.

Spotting Conan, I called out to him. He jogged over, bleeding slightly from his left shoulder. “Hey Mike, what’s up?”

“I just wanted to thank you for the leatherwork on the mirror.” I held up the mirror, holding it by the handle on the back he’d sewn on. “Also, the bags for the caltrops. Those are really good work. It would suck to try and use them without it.”

The ogre beamed. His smile went almost ear to ear, exposing his actual teeth and not just his tusks. He looked away, rubbing a hand through his hair. “Yeah man, you know. I’m just trying to contribute.”

“Well, you did a great job. So here is your elixir.” I held up the clay jar. “This is single use. When you’re in combat, you drink this down. It will help you dodge attacks for the next little bit. We aren’t sure how long it lasts, so only use it when you need it.”

“Hey, I want an elixir.” Marko said, coming over.

Conan turned to him, “And what’s your craft? We’re trading. He makes the elixir and I made the leather goods he’s holding.” The ogre shook his big head, long hair waving. “You can’t expect us crafters to just give away what we’ve worked for. Either come up with money or learn to make stuff for yourself.”

“Yeah,” I clapped the big guy on the back. Not the shoulder, I’d have had to stretch for that, but somewhere around his shoulder blade. “Like Conan here. He learned leather work so he could take part. I know alchemy.”

“Ah, that leatherwork sucks. Look at the fat stitches.” Marko giggled, an incongruous sound coming from so big a guy.

“Could you do better?” I asked.

“How do I get an elixir like that?” Tomaz asked, getting up painfully.

“Learn a craft, like Conan here did. He heard us dwarves were trading and picked up leatherwork.” I shrugged.

“Yeah, I had the skill points available and learned it.” Conan snapped his fingers. “Just like that, so I can take part in the trades.”

I left the pseudo rugby players to their game. Conversation had turned to crafting with Conan right in the middle of it, answering questions. It was good to see him involved with the group.