Apollyon entered the familiar but dimly lit interior of the smithy, the clang of hammer striking metal echoed through the air. The workshop was quieter than during his previous visit. The late hour more than likely drew most of the smiths to the end of their work for the day. He saw the smouldering forge fires still casting a warm, orange glow, creating long shadows that danced on the soot-stained walls.

At the heart of the smithy, he spotted the lead smith and his two proteges. The lead smith, a weathered figure with a salt-and-pepper beard, was engrossed in his work, meticulously shaping a blade that sparkled with the promise of exceptional craftsmanship. His concentration was unwavering, his hands moving with the precision of a seasoned artisan.

To his right stood the younger man, the lead smith's first protege. He was carefully inspecting a sword hilt, his face etched with a seriousness that came from hard earned lessons. His fingers traced the intricate engravings on the hilt, a testament to his mastery of detail.

On the lead smith's left was the woman with fiery eyes, the second protege. She was in the process of quenching a newly forged blade, the sizzle and steam filling the air as the red-hot metal met the cold liquid. Her face still caked with soot, her pained efforts evident in the way she handled the process, her expression one of quiet patience.

Apollyon approached them, his footsteps muffled by the scattered shavings and tools that littered the workshop's wooden floor. He cleared his throat, drawing the attention of the lead smith and his proteges.

The lead smith, with a grizzled look that spoke of both wisdom and years of labor, turned toward Apollyon. His eyes met Apollyon's with a knowing gaze, recognizing the young blacksmith who had impressed him on a previous occasion.

"Tiro," he said with a nod of acknowledgment, setting down the blade he had been working on. "You've returned. What brings you back this late in the day? I don’t believe there is any tasks left to be done.”

Apollyon squared his shoulders, holding out the omnisphere's that he had been entrusted to deliver. "Decurion James sent me," he replied respectfully. "He asked that I deliver the contents within my omnisphere to you."

The lead smith furrowed his brows before accepting the package, his fingers deftly wrapping around the omnisphere, tossing it into the air and catching it in a repeated manner as if checking the weight of the object. His proteges watched with curiosity, their expressions a mix of interest and intrigue.

“James huh?...” the lead smith inwardly criticized Apollyon for a brief moment, “You’re more than meets the eye it seems” he remarked.

Apollyon simply remained silent at his observing comments, he understood the lead smith’s underlying criticism about his relationship with James but he didn’t bother explaining himself; he didn’t feel the need to do so.

The lead smith snorted in impatience, “Alright, I wont pry.” With a flick of his wrist, he tossed the omnisphere into the air, and it began to spin, radiating a faint, ethereal light.

The smithy's dimly lit interior seemed to come alive with the otherworldly glow of the spinning omnisphere. It hung suspended in the air for a moment, a beacon of curiosity that drew the attention of everyone present.

Then, with a soft hum, the omnisphere released its contents. They spilled forth in a mesmerizing display of materialization, like treasures conjured from the depths of another realm. The smiths and proteges watched in awe as a set of materials emerged, scattered across the relatively empty space within the smithy.

There were sharp bone-like objects, resembling the menacing teeth of a fearsome shark. Talons and claws glistened in the dim light, their wicked edges hinting at the power and ferocity of the creatures they had once belonged to. But what drew the most attention was the large, skinned hide that unfolded before them, its texture and markings unmistakable.

"This…this is a dreadscale croclith's hide," the lead smith exclaimed, his eyes wide with a mixture of astonishment and excitement. "An exceptional find, indeed." He bent down beside the hide and examined its quality particularly in the way it was skinned, he looked slightly impressed.

“This should indeed be the handiwork of that bastard, James”, the lead smith chuckled to himself before retrieving the omnisphere on the ground and tossing it back to Apollyon.

The proteges exchanged glances, their expressions reflecting a blend of respect for the lead smith's knowledge and curiosity about the potential of these rare materials. The dreadscale croclith was a creature of legend to mortals, known for its formidable hide and deadly scales. Crafting with such parts was a task that required both skill and reverence for the creature's strength.

Apollyon, too, was captivated by the sight before him albeit with less enthusiasm since he was already aware of the croclith’s hide, however, he was surprised that there were other materials present within the omnisphere. To be honest, he felt slightly dejected that he hadn’t thought of checking what was inside beforehand. The other materials were unlike anything he had seen before, and he couldn't help but compare them to the creatures back on Earth.

He looked at the set of teeth in particular, although they looked to be similar to that of sharks; he could tell that they were practically different in terms of scale, they were far larger than your average shark teeth, almost comparable to that of an adult’s hand.

“Helvar, come, grab that side gently”, the lead smith instructed his male apprentice. “Iana, grab the rest and set them aside” he added towards his other apprentice.

Apollyon watched the two men carefully move the heavy looking hide towards a crafting bench before shifting his eyes at ‘Iana’ who crouched down silently and began picking out the scattered materials with her bare hands. Apollyon felt awkward standing there so he decided to help by also picking up the materials.

This selfless action garnered Iana’s attention who gave him a knowing glance and a quick nod before returning to her silent tranquility.

‘What a strange girl’ he inwardly commented, he silently observed her rather outlandish appearance and demeanour and he couldn’t help but notice how she looked rather out of place. He wondered just why a person of an opposite gender would bother taking on a job predominantly run by hardened males especially one that required laborious efforts. However, he wasn’t one to judge discriminately; he just felt it was rather unconventional to say the least. But he quickly shook his meaningless thoughts away, ‘Right this isn’t Earth, perhaps women here chase after different aspirations.’

The duo finished packing the rest of the materials away in complete silence before joining the other two who seemed to be discussing on what to make out of the croclith hide.

..

"Helvar," the lead smith began, his voice a measured rumble, "what do you think we should create with this remarkable hide?"

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Helvar, who had been studying the hide with a discerning eye, straightened with a sense of both eagerness and thoughtfulness. "Well, Master Orin," he started, "the dreadscale croclith's hide is known for its incredible durability and resistance to damage. It's scaly material could create exceptional armour, offering protection that few natural metals can match."

Orin nodded, his gaze steady. "And what kind of armour do you envision?"

Helvar's brows furrowed slightly as he considered the possibilities. "I would suggest crafting a set of reinforced armour," he replied, his voice gaining confidence as he spoke. "Given the materials weight, the dreadscale croclith's hide could be used as the core, offering unmatched protection, while incorporating other materials for flexibility and maneuverability. This way, the wearer would have a balance of both defense and mobility."

Orin nodded again, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips. "A balanced approach, Helvar, good. I appreciate your consideration of both protection and mobility. It's a solid idea. But what else could we create with this hide? Armor is a worthy choice, but there are other possibilities."

Helvar took a moment to ponder Orin's question, his eyes never leaving the magnificent hide. "Well," he began slowly, "we could also consider crafting a shield. A scaly shield would be virtually impervious to most forms of ranged attacks especially arrows. It would offer a solid defence for those who rely on shields in combat."

Orin's eyes gleamed with approval. "A shield, yes. A wise choice. And what about offensive weapons? Could the hide be utilized to create something that strikes fear into the hearts of our enemies?"

Helvar frowned as he contemplated the prospect of offence, clearly, he was struggling to answer this question. "The hide's durability could be harnessed to craft a formidable blade through alloys. A sword, perhaps. Such a weapon would not only be deadly but also highly resistant to damage, ensuring that it remains a reliable tool in battle."

Orin's nod was decisive. "A fine suggestion, Helvar. However, a sword is a no go for such a material, do you understand why?” he retorted.

Helvar thought for a moment before shaking his head, “No…I do not” he muttered admittingly.

Orin turned his head towards Iana who looked equally puzzled by the question, “What do you think?” he asked her.

“I-I..don’t know” she ushered silently.

Orin simply nodded before observing Apollyon with a slight sense of curiosity, “What about you kid?” he asked once more, “Why would croclith’s scales not produce a sword?”.

Apollyon, who had been listening to them intently, looked towards the croclith’s hide, visually observing the mottled scales that gleamed with a sense of smoothness and a high degree of hardness before addressing the question. ‘Well, isn’t it obvious?’ he thought convincingly.

“Creating a sword from those scales would be a difficult task because of the materials properties. Its simply not a type of metal. I would argue that smaller weapons are much better options such as a dagger, arrow tips or as throwing weapons; perhaps even a whip can be made from such a material” he said solemnly.

‘The main problem is the material’s overall composition; it’s an organic material that is obviously different from your typical blade materials, its simply not malleable enough to form a sword. It would more than likely decompose in the process of forging as well. And even if it was fire resistant; I would suspect the end-product to be brittle and obsolete. Its simply an impossible task’ Apollyon calculated inwardly. ‘However, an alloy is an interesting concept that may work but, how is the question.’

Orin flashed a faint smile, “Indeed, swords are too lengthy for such a material and is not suitable for such a task. I agree with your other examples especially with throwing weapons” he nodded.

“However,” he paused cocking his head to the side in contemplation, "A whip, you say? Please, explain your idea."

“Sure thing,” deliberated Apollyon. "Imagine a flailing weapon composed of individual croclith scales, each one linked to the next by a sturdy chain or flexible leather. The scales would be layered to create a flexible, elastic yet formidable length. This whip could serve both as a weapon and as a tool for various purposes."

He paused for a moment, allowing his vision to take shape in the minds of those present. "The whip could be wielded with precision and speed, striking enemies from a distance. Its serrated edges, made from the dreadscale croclith's scales, would inflict severe injuries upon contact. But it wouldn't be limited to combat alone."

Apollyon's gaze sparkled with thoughtfulness. "The whip could also serve as a versatile tool for climbing, securing objects, or even as a makeshift belt when not in use. It would be a weapon of both offense and utility, adaptable to a variety of situations" he concluded.

Orin regarded Apollyon with a look of fascination. "A whip," he mused, "It's indeed an inventive idea, a combination of both offence and utility, I can see the potential in such a creation, good."

He thought for a moment before deciding to give him an opportunity, "Very well, kid. Let us explore this idea further. I’m interested in your idea; sketch out your design and plans. We shall consider it alongside the others.”

“I’ll reward you with contribution points if you do well” Orin added, “What do you say Tiro?”

Apollyon did not have to think twice about his proposition, “Of course, I accept!” he replied respectfully.

However, as he did so, he couldn't help but sense an undercurrent of hostility emanating from Helvar, Orin’s first protege.

The feeling was almost imperceptible, like a shadow passing in the periphery of his senses. Yet, Apollyon was naturally attuned to the subtleties of human interaction, and he couldn't dismiss it. He pondered over this unexpected hostility as he considered his next steps.

‘Was it jealousy?’ he thought.

Apollyon couldn't be certain, but he couldn't think of any other reason for Helvar to harbor ill will toward him. After all, he was a newcomer to the smithy, still finding his place among the talented artisans. Perhaps his proposal for the croclith-scale whip had stirred something in Helvar.

‘Is it a sense of competition? a threat to his status as the lead apprentice, or perhaps a fear that my ideas would outshine his own?’

…

‘How childish of him’ he laughed mentally.

As he continued to analyze the situation internally, Apollyon couldn't help but highlight the underlying reality of a competitive environment within the smithy. In such a place, he was well aware of the skill and innovation required to succeed therefore, he found that it was natural for tensions to arise. ‘Each artisan, each protege, and each newcomer seeks recognition for their abilities and contributions it would seem’.

Apollyon understood that he had stepped into a world where craftsmanship was not only a passion but a way of life. It was a realm where respect was earned through dedication and skill, and where every idea could be seen as a challenge to established traditions and relationships.

With this understanding, Apollyon decided to approach the situation with tact and diplomacy, however, he also regarded Helvar with a sense of guarded skepticism. ‘If that’s how you want to play then by all means; do try me little Helvar’ he silently mocked the young man, ‘I’m interested in what you have in store for me.’

Ding!

Ding!

Ding!

‘Huh? Three consecutive Dings? What’s up with that?’ Apollyon thought whilst eagerly checking upon his system’s quest tab.

{Delivery: Successfully completed quest. Rewarded +20 experience points.}

..

{Congratulations!}

{Special Quests unlocked}

..

{Creation (Special): Provide the smithy with a detailed sketch of a croclith inspired whip.}

{Rewards: Hidden}

Apollyon's first reaction was one of wonder. His eyes widened as he gazed at the unfamiliar "Special Quest" entry, his mind racing with questions about its purpose and significance. ‘What made this quest so "special"? Why had it appeared now, and what was its connection to the rest of the system?’ he asked internally.

‘Were there specific conditions or triggers that led to the appearance of "Special Quests," or was it entirely random?’ he added.

As usual, Apollyon began to analyze the situation. He reviewed the quests he had undertaken in the past, searching for patterns or clues that might explain the emergence of this new quest category. He meticulously read the quest's description, parsing every word for hints or hidden meanings.

‘Creation? Such a bold word, perhaps this description is the catalyst for the generation of this so called “Special Quest”…’

He noted any keywords or phrases that stood out, trying to discern if there were any clues about the nature of these quests.

‘Strange…hidden’ he ruminated with a puzzled look, ‘Just why is the rewards concealed?’

As his mind raced, Apollyon began to form various hypotheses. He considered an array of scenarios, from the possibility that "Special Quests" were linked to his unique conversations with the lead smith or his past actions. He reasoned that the best way to understand this new addition was through direct experience and observation.

However, despite his eagerness, Apollyon remained cautious. He meticulously prepared himself, gathering any relevant resources or knowledge that might be needed for the quest. He knew that approaching this new challenge with a well-thought-out plan would maximize his chances of success.