I wish I had known that I was going to start a minor arms race when I apprenticed under those two. I would have thought twice about it…
Nah, it was worth it. No matter the consequences.
- Excerpt from my journal.
-------
“So, what are your levels in [Enchanter] and [Staffmaker]?” Elnil Mastercarver asked.
“Level 1, unfortunately,” I replied. Which was technically the truth as I quickly picked those up.
The look he gave me could have curdled milk.
“I assumed you would at least have a bit of experience,” he grumbled. He pulled a small stick out of his inventory and tossed it to me. “Here, make this into a wand. Increase your [Staffmaker] level. I don’t care how you do it.”
I almost nodded in reply, but something about his tone and the situation seemed off.
I realized it after just another second.
The class is [Staffmaker]. That sounds incredibly specific so… I am a [Wandmaker]?
System: Wandmaker subclass has been set
And that clinched it.
“Did you mean… To work on my [Wandmaker] class?” I asked.
“And?” he prompted.
When I just gave him a confused look, he sighed. “Half points. Yes, [Wandmaker] and [Staffmaker] are related, but different. However, you don’t even have the [Carver] class, do you?”
“Uhh, no,” I replied.
“Then get started on that. I won’t have you wasting our time carving runes until I can be sure you’re able to carve a stick.”
I assumed that would be a quick win. However, he didn’t just want me to carve a stick. He wanted me to carve it in a way he was satisfied with.
… I went through dozens of sticks and twigs that day, but the only thing he had for me was critiques.
He eventually kicked me out late at night, and I returned to my inn. Despite everything, I felt I had made good progress that day… except for a tiny problem.
How am I going to deal with Thorgrala? I asked myself.
I didn’t come up with a good answer, so I eventually decided just to apologize… and lie. I told her I was sorry about offending her (I wasn’t), and that I needed the other days of the week to earn money to pay my living expenses (yeah, right).
Fortunately, that, and the dragon scales, were enough to let me back in to work as her apprentice.
This will be good. I thought. Three days a week to work on smithing, and three days a week to work on enchanting and staff making. That will even leave one day out of the week to establish Syndicate presence here.
At least… that’s what I naively thought as I started my training regime.
“If I’m only going to have you three days a week, you should probably get here even sooner,” Thorgrala told me. “I’ll only have so much time to cram my knowledge into that thick skull of yours.”
“Oh, uh, of course,” I replied. I figured that would be a bit of an adjustment, but not too bad.
Then there was Elnil.
“If I’m only going to have you here three days a week, I’m going to need you to stay later if you want to make any meaningful progress,” he told me the next day. “I assume that won’t be a problem?”
“No,” I lied through grit teeth.
In other words, I now had differing times to wake up, and I didn’t get much sleep on the nights when I got back from Elnil’s training. It made me curse my need for sleep that life all the more, and when I finally got to my day off, I mostly just slept in and listened to music.
I just have to get used to it, and it will be fine. I told myself.
Unfortunately, that was also a lie.
“Terrible, but good enough to start learning about runes,” Elnil said during the next session. Then, he threw a small book at me. “Memorize all of these,” he said.
I started flipping through it. “Aren’t there skills to help with this or something?” I asked.
He scowled. “Any [Enchanter] who needs to rely on skills to identify a rune will never be the best. And when did I say that you should read that here? Get back to carving!”
Great. I have homework. I grumbled to myself. Fortunately, soon after that he started to teach me actual enchanting. Or at least he had me start working on it.
“Your first goal is to make a lesser wand of mana capacity,” he said. “It will be your first one, so take any stick you’ve made into a wand and mark it with this rune.” As he said that, he took one of the sticks I had to practice on, whittled it into a passable wand in about 5 seconds, and then marked it with the rune of mana capacity.
Except, something was off.
I took the wand and furrowed my brows as I examined it. “Isn’t this rune upside down?” I asked. I only knew that because the rune of mana capacity was the very first one I memorized. It was the one I was the most interested in, after all.
I was expecting a gruff acknowledgment or for him to tell me why I was missing something obvious, but the old dwarf broke into a full-on grin. He clapped me on the back, which was a bit of an upward reach for him, and then said, “Full marks!” he said. “Now, any wager as to what this wand will actually do?”
It still is the mana capacity rune, even if it’s inverted, so…
“If it gets activated, it will reduce the wielder’s mana capacity?” I asked.
He clapped. “Well done, my boy!” he said. “And, last question, how do you know it’s inverted? If I flip the wand like this-“ he turned it upside down so that I was holding it closer to the tip. “-isn’t the rune right side up again?”
I frowned. “No,” I replied hesitantly. “And if I had to guess why… You mentioned mana conductance when I brought out the dragon bone, so it probably has to do with that? Maybe the mana is flowing from the bottom of the wand to the top, so that orientation is what determines right-side up?”
He nodded and gave me another grin. “We may just make an [Enchanter] out of you yet, my boy!”
From there, it didn’t take me much time to complete my very first wand. I took one of my sticks that I had carved the best, etched the rune into it, and then supplied it with 10 mana before the rune activated.
It was a wand of lesser mana capacity. It only added 1 mana point to someone’s pool. It was certainly nowhere near as impressive as either of the wands I had habitually used up to that point.
And none of that mattered because I couldn’t wipe the stupid grin off my face.
It feels like programming. I thought. All I’m doing is combining a basic set of instructions to achieve a specific goal.
“Already succeeded, have we?” Elnil asked. He took the wand from me and seemed to be comparing his status. “1 mana, just about what you would expect from something crafted with this poor of material. Well done, my boy!” He gave me another pat on the back.
“Now, we get to the real enchanting,” he said.
“I can’t wait,” I replied. I mean, how hard can this be compared to programming? I asked myself.
The answer was very. It turned out that while enchanting only had about 100 known runes (which I equated to 100 different programming operations available), that wasn’t the part that made it difficult. No, what made it difficult was their interactions.
“As soon as you get two or more runes on an enchanted item, there are three things you have to remember aside from what rune you’re placing,” Elnil stated. “First, the size of the rune you carve. The larger you make it, the more powerful it will be. Second, the depth of the carving. The deeper you make it, the more stable it will be. Third, the placement of the runes in relation to each other. And unbalancing any of the three, or using incompatible runes, can destabilize the entire enchant.”
To keep up the programming analogy, Elnil had just told me that in this programming language, whitespace, font size, and font color all mattered.
That sounded like a headache and a half, and I was right. I made a dozen wands that exploded when I put mana into them before I finally made one that a beginning adventurer would call passable.
The good news was that I had managed to make it onto Elnil’s good side. He encouraged me throughout the process and told me I was doing better than most apprentices.
We also chatted a bit more, and I finally had to ask the question.
“So, how did you and Thorgrala end up with the names ‘MasterSmith’ and ‘MasterCarver?’” I asked. “That seems like a bit of a coincidence.”
Elnil gave me a funny look before he nodded in recognition. “Ah, I sometimes forget you weren’t raised in Pumil.” He chuckled. “MasterCarver isn’t my family name. MasterCarver is my profession name.” He took my quizzical look as the unspoken question it was and continued. “When dwarves turn 18, we choose a name related to our profession. We still have our family name as well, but that’s much less important.”
“But that means you declared yourself a master carver at 18,” I stated.
He nodded. “Correct. I wasn’t about to lose to that stubborn mule who declared herself a master smith just a month before me.” He finished that statement with a scowl.
Huh. That means they’ve been rivals for decades. I gave the aged [Enchanter] another look. Or even longer if they have [Long-Lived] like Garrik did.
I was curious but not enough to ask outright how old he was. Instead, I took the slightly tangential approach.
“How long have you been practicing [Enchanting]?” I asked.
He furrowed his brow. “What year is it? 294?” He shook his head. “That would make it about 87 years if you don’t include my apprenticeship.” He gave me a flat look before continuing. “Yes, I’m [Long-Lived]. Yes, I’m a level 9 [Enchanter], [Carver], and [Staffmaker]. And yes, you better be [Long-Lived] as well if you want to make it up to the same level.”
I whistled in appreciation. “Dang. Almost at level 10, then. What kind of gear can you make at level 9?”
“Masterwork,” he stated without a moment’s hesitation. “Or at least I have the skill, but there’s some hidden variable I’m missing because the best I’ve ever made is greater.” He drummed his fingers for a moment before shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter. By Pumil’s beard, I will beat that stubborn old mule to making a masterwork item if it kills me.”
Then, as if finally realizing we had both stopped working, he scowled at me. “Now, back to work! That wood won’t carve itself!”
------
Years passed during my apprenticeship, but it was well worth it. I earned several levels in those crafting classes across the board, and eventually, I was useful for the two master artisans to have around.
Though that wasn’t to say it was an easy time, far from it. I received conflicting advice every other day.
“Be gentle! The wood knows the way that it wants to be shaped!” from Elnil was contrasted by Thorgrala’s “Don’t baby the metal! You have to pound it into the shape you want.”
However, the one thing they at least agreed on was, “You have to pay attention to every detail, no matter how small, if you want to be the best!”
I reached the point where I was level 3 in all the crafting classes and could appraise just about any item, but… I decided to stick around anyway. I could have made do with any of the greater staffs that Elnil was making or any of the greater sets of mithril armor that Thorgrala hammered together, but I was far too greedy for that. Now that I knew of its existence, I wasn’t going to settle for anything less than masterwork, and I had plenty of time to wait.
At least, that was my initial assumption. I was sure that they would get over the hump and finally make a masterwork item as soon as they used the dragon parts. Unfortunately, that didn’t work out. Thorgrala made a beautiful armor set covered by a layer of interlocking dragon scales… still greater. Elnil managed to carve a staff out of dragon bone and inset a large gem as the focus… only major.
The only difference was that at least Elnil knew the problem. While dragon bone was a superior staff component, it was complicated to carve runes into. It tended to crumble slightly wherever it was etched and degrade the runes, resulting in a grumpy [Enchanter] and a much worse staff.
The failed results left the two master artisans gun-shy. The dragon parts were in short supply, and they wouldn’t waste them on anything less than masterwork.
That was a catch-22 if I ever saw one. I was positive they needed the dragon parts to make a masterwork item, but they weren’t willing to use them until they were sure that they could make a masterwork item.
Fortunately, I realized the last thing that was missing for making one, and I just needed to give Elnil a nudge in the right direction.
------
February 12th, 303 AA - Almost 9 years after arriving in Jenkins
“Say, master,” I said to Elnil one day after my preparations were complete. “Do you and Thorgrala have any bet going on for who will make a masterwork item first?
“Yes,” he replied. “First one to make a masterwork can make one demand of the other. And when I win, I’ll finally show that shrew of a woman that ‘stick carving’ is worthwhile!”
That simplified things for me quite a bit. I was worried I would have to get them to set the challenge up.
“Then, I think it’s finally time to use dragon bone again,” I replied.
He replied with a shake of his head and a sigh. “I still haven’t figured out a way to carve it that won’t degrade.”
“I’ve figured that out too, master,” I replied. I pulled out several pieces of paper diagramming the craft. “We just need a mithril coat for the staff.” I pointed up at the top. “And then, we use a magicite sphere as the focus protected by a mithril cage, and then the entire thing just needs to be enchanted for mana draw to even out the innate absorption of the magicite.”
“That would be a balancing act and a half,” he muttered. “But the mithril has low magic interference. That would be a solid coating for the shaft. And as long as we have the runes balanced perfectly, that would be the highest mana capacity of any design I’ve seen.” He paused. “You were planning a mana capacity staff for this, were you not?”
I nodded vigorously. “Yes, any mage could use extra mana, so I figured that a general-purpose staff would be an excellent first thing to masterwork.”
“What about the mithril? We’ll need at least 99% pure for this to work.”
Since I knew a [Blacksmith] who was upset if her end product was anything less than 99.7%, I quickly nodded. “Won’t be a problem.”
He sighed. “I can see you’ve thought this out. Alright, we’ll do it your way.”
I managed to hide my fist pump. The next part was the trickier. Convincing Thorgrala.
“You want me to help one of those stick carvers?” she asked incredulously.
“Come on!” I begged. “They’ll pay you for your work. Can’t you help another craftsman out?”
She shook her head. “I’m not going to waste my time on this.”
I deflated a bit.
“However, if my apprentice happened to work on it and happened to use my mithril, I wouldn’t be upset so long as I got paid.”
I looked back at her as she gave me a quick wink.
“I’ll check up on your work. Make sure that you don’t shame my brand.”
Mission successful. I thought.
However, what was still left was the hard part. Crafting the dang staff.
It took weeks of carving, making molds for the staff’s shell, and evading my perceptive masters.
“That almost looks like one of Elnil’s designs,” Thorgrala muttered when the staff was finally ready for me to coat it in mithril.
I rolled my eyes. “It probably was, originally. You think that other [Staffmakers] aren’t going to steal from the best?” I asked.
That got her off my case, but that wasn’t the end. I still had to take the completed staff back to Elnil’s for enchanting.
“That mithril,” he said. “It looks incredible. The only one I know of who could make mithril that pure is-“
I shook my head. “Just because she’s the best at it doesn’t mean she’s the only one who can make mithril,” I stated. “Besides, you think I could even get the time of day from her?”
“True,” he murmured.
And soon enough, that was out of mind as he focused solely on the work of carving the runes into the staff.
It was a thing of beauty. A shining mithril-white staff covered in runes everywhere except for the mithril handle in the middle, and on top a mithril cage that protected a large orb of magicite.
I could tell it was the one, even before appraising… or getting the achievements.
System: New Achievement. Master Apprentice. Class Perk Points Gained 2
System: New Achievement. First Master Apprentice. Class Perk Points Gained 2
What kinda name is that? I asked. I was about to flip open my status and take a look when I was stopped by Elnil, who started shaking my hand.
“We did, my boy!” he shouted. “Your design was daring and unique, but it worked! Now all that’s left is to break the news to that stubborn old mule.” He rubbed his hands together in anticipation, but I put a hand on his shoulder.
“Wait, master,” I said. “The next auction is just in two days. Why don’t you wait until after it’s sold?”
“Why, by Pumil’s beard, should I do that?” he asked. “I’ve finally won! I should go over to her right now and-“
“Don’t you think you need to break it to her more gently?” I asked. “She’s a proud woman. Going and rubbing it in her face will just make her hate you more. Instead, why not… break the news over dinner?” I asked, and Elnil furrowed his brow in reply. “Take her someplace nice. Show her that you’re a gracious winner.”
It’s also a better way to handle your obvious feelings for her. Was a thought I didn’t air.
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
He slowly nodded. “Yes… That will work. And I don’t need the staff there since I have the achievement, and I’ll also have the slip from the auction house.” He gave one more resolute nod. “Good plan, my boy! I’ll break the news to her the day after the auction! Now, quick, go and reserve us a table at a restaurant… No, go and reserve the whole thing!”
I rolled my eyes but did as I was told. Then, I also made sure to ask for the auction day off. I couldn’t have someone else buy the staff after all.
The more complicated part was convincing Thorgrala that she should go to the meetup after she threw away Elnil’s letter.
“What’s the matter?” I asked. “Afraid of meeting up with a stick carver?” I taunted.
“Of course not!” she harumphed in reply.
“Then why not go?”
She paused for several seconds before mumbling something.
“What was that?” I asked.
“I don’t have anything to wear to someplace that nice,” she mumbled.
“Oh,” I said lamely. “Uhh… We could go shopping?” I asked. And that was how I ended up shopping for a dress with a geriatric dwarf and belatedly realizing that I should also get some fancy attire of my own for the auction the next day.
That turned out to be the right call.
-----
“Sorry, you ain’t on the list, so you don’t go in,” the [Guard]… or maybe [Bouncer] said as I stood in front of the auction house.
“Look,” I replied. “I won’t cause any trouble, and I’m willing to spend a lot of gold here.”
“How much gold?” he asked.
I looked around me, then beckoned the man closer. Then, I pulled up my status and flicked over my gold balance to him.
His eyes went round. I couldn’t blame him. 860,184 gold was a lot for the common man.
I pulled out a 100-gold coin.
“And this is for you if you get my name on the list,” I said.
He took the coin and straightened back up.
“It seems that Mr. Silverleaf was accidentally removed from the list,” the [Bouncer] called inside. “Could someone please get the manager?”
It was a bit more convoluted getting in than I expected. Most people had registered accounts with the Merchant’s Guild, and I had to start up my very own right there. However, the fact that I was carrying just a bit under a million gold spoke louder than any words I could have said.
I was soon escorted inside, given a paddle with the number 87 on it, and then got to watch the show.
There were a lot of fantastic items on display that night. However, none of them grabbed my attention. I think that’s just the consequence of working with two people who churned out the items that were the cream of the crop.
I could also tell that I was making the management nervous. They had broken protocol to let me in, but I wasn’t bidding on anything. Fortunately for them, the best item was up next.
“And next up, we have a unique piece from the famous [Enchanter], Elnil Mastercarver!” the auctioneer stated as the staff was revealed. “A staff of mana capacity…” there were some confused murmurs at that. “Masterwork quality.”
The auction house erupted into chaos, but the auctioneer called for quiet, and eventually, people listened.
“Now, bidding will start at 250,000 with increments of 25,000. Do I hear 250,000?”
About 2 dozen paddles shot up.
“300,000!” one voice called out.
“I have 300,000. Do I hear 325,000?”
“400,000!”
“450!”
“500,000!”
The rapid-speaking auctioneer couldn’t even get a word in edgewise, and we were rapidly approaching the end of my budget.
“525!” I called.
The auctioneer pointed in my direction but didn’t even get the words out before there was another call.
“600,000!”
Fortunately, it seemed that just as we were approaching the end of my budget, other people were also failing their wallet-check.
“We have 600. Do I hear 650?”
I raised my paddle.
“We have 650. Do I hear 700?”
So much for increments of 25,000. I thought sourly.
Another paddle was raised. But I needed to come away with that staff.
I could always steal it. I thought. However, security was tight, and that would compromise my cover identity of Filarion.
I raised my paddle for 750.
I can’t lose this here. I can’t let someone else get their hands on it!
The moment someone else raised their paddle for 800, I immediately raised mine for 850.
That got a brief second of hesitation from the entire crowd. And then, to my chagrin, someone raised their paddle for 900.
“900, going once!” the auctioneer said.
Frick. What can I do? I don’t have that much money!
“900, going twice!”
I looked around at the wealthy patrons. Or do I? I thought. There’s no way they’re carrying that much around, either!
“Sol-
“1 million!” I shouted as I raised my paddle.
“Sold to Mr. Silverleaf!” the auctioneer called after a moment’s pause. “For 1 million gold!”
There was a smattering of grudging clapping from the other patrons as I went backstage to claim my prize.
Or, more specifically, as I went backstage and asked them how I could defer payment for about 150,000 gold.
The answer to that was more straightforward than I expected. The Merchant’s Guild had branches worldwide, and I simply needed to have some of my cult members- I mean, business associates- put money into an account under my name. Once payment was confirmed to be received on their end, I was good to go.
In other words, with just a few quick [Messages] and a bit of a wait as my cult members dropped everything to deposit some gold, I stepped out of there with my brand-new staff that was yet to be named and still about 50,000 gold in my pocket.
What to call you? I mentally asked the staff that was sitting in my inventory. You give… 850 mana. That’s like a black hole of mana. Mana Hole? I grimaced. “That’s bad even by my standards,” I said aloud. Infinity Capacitor. Infinity Staff. I snapped my fingers as it finally came to me. “I dub thee, Singularity!”
So focused was I on my naming debate that I didn’t notice the group of men that had decided to stand in my way until I practically ran into them.
“Excuse me, gentlemen,” I said as I took in the thugs. I turned around and noticed that there were also men blocking my way back. “Oh. We’re doing that trope again.”
“Trope? What’s he mean by trope?” one of them asked.
“It doesn’t matter,” their leader said as he strode forward. He was a head taller than the rest there, and his brown eyes gave me a calculated stare. “No hired bodyguards after throwing around a million gold. An unknown at the auction. And completely relaxed when outnumbered 12 to 1.” He paused. “He’s either an idiot… Or dangerous.”
I pulled Singularity out of my inventory. “Would you care to find out which?” I asked as I pointed the staff up at him.
He shook his head. “Must be the first. Grab him.” He gave the second command off-handedly, giving me a little less than a second to react to the men that had closed the distance behind me.
I immediately [Flash Stepped] backward out of their encirclement.
I could make a break for it… I couldn’t help the grin that split my face. Or give this new staff a spin.
“[Fire Bolt]!” I cast without doing the whole chant.
Or at least, I tried to. The spell failed, and a lick of flame appeared at the end of my staff briefly before sputtering out.
I guess it has been decades… No, more than a century since I last did that. I thought.
“He’s just faking it! Get him!” the leader shouted.
Fortunately, their brief hesitation was enough for me to shake the cobwebs out of my head.
“[Fire Bolt], [Ice Bolt], [Earth Bolt], [Air Bolt],” I cast in quick succession. It was a supreme waste of mana since those 4 spells cost me 100 mana total… but that meant I could do it 7 more times if I truly wanted to.
And I wasn’t about to use [Hell Blaze] and blow my cover.
I’d aimed each bolt at a different thug, which was a mistake. That simply encouraged the leader more.
“We’ve got more health than he has mana! Get him!” he shouted.
In response to his proclamation, I lobbed the next four spells in his direction. “[Fire Bolt], [Ice Bolt], [Earth Bolt], [Air Bolt].”
Only half landed. He dodged the others.
He moves pretty well for a tall guy… and he certainly seems to have his head on his shoulders. Guess I’ll get to start up the Syndicate here after all.
Unfortunately, my time for introspection was over. The thugs were upon me.
I put Singularity back into my inventory and then decked the first man in the face with a [Fire Strike]. I went non-lethal, which was wise as the man didn’t get back up.
That stopped them up short.
“Definitely dangerous,” the leader muttered. “Scatter!” he shouted right after.
I was impressed. The thugs scattered in different directions and even remembered to pick up their downed member. The leader also followed suit, but unfortunately for him, I had my eyes on him.
I chased him down and followed him into an alley. He broke eye contact for only a second, but that was enough for him to enter [Sneak]… and for me to catch him immediately with [Detect].
I made as if I was going to walk past him only to turn at the last second and [Fire Strike] him in the gut. A couple more follow-up attacks knocked him out as well.
I planted my foot on the [Rogue’s] chest and then cast. “[Heal].”
He sputtered indignantly as he came back to the land of the conscious, but I cut him off before he could speak.
“I have some good news for you!” I said as I ground my foot in. “You work for me, now.”
He spat on my boot. “I would rather die than work for a pointy-eared freak like you,” he said.
I shrugged. “Fine with me,” I replied. I reached up toward my ears and ran a hand over them. At the same time, I changed the illusion covering my ears from pointy to normal.
He stared at me in shock, so I just chuckled.
“As you may have guessed, I’m not an elf. Nor is my name Filarion,” I stated. I followed that up with a grin. “You can just call me the Boss. Welcome to the Syndicate.”
-----
Fortunately, I remembered to redo the ear part of the illusion before returning to my inn, or that would have been awkward.
Then, there wasn’t much left to do but get a good night’s sleep and wait for the next phase of my plan… which was outside the restaurant that Elnil had reserved. I just had to wait for the right moment.
It was easy to tell. It was when the shouting started.
All going according to plan. I thought as I strode in. The great part about being the one who made the reservation was that the restaurant staff didn’t even stop me. I waltzed right up to the table where Elnil and Thorgrala were having a shouting match.
“Greetings, master,” I called out.
That got both of their attention, and they pivoted in my direction. Thorgrala was a bit more confused, so Elnil beat her to talking.
“Filarion, my boy, could you please come and confirm to this obstinate mule that the staff I made was indeed masterwork?” he asked. “She’s refusing to admit that I’m the better craftsman because she claims I must be faking it.”
Thorgrala seemed like she was initially going to confront me, but Elnil set her off. “You have to be! There’s no way a stick carver like you managed to make a masterwork item before me!”
“Calm down a second, both of you,” I replied. “Elnil, you demanded that she admit you’re the better craftsman?” I asked.
“Yes, I-“
I cut him off with a shake of my head. “Bad move,” I replied. “Because while the staff was masterwork, you weren’t the only one who had a hand in crafting it.” I pulled Singularity out and continued. “Recognize this mithril, Thorgrala?”
Her eyes went wide with recognition, but that was quickly followed by them scrunching in fury.
“You went behind my back and worked with that stick carver!?” she shouted.
“You went to that stubborn mule for the mithril!?” Elnil shouted at the same time and with a hint of horror.
“Yes, and yes,” I replied. “Now, if you’re both done acting like children, I would like to explain.”
They glared at me, glared at each other, and then mercifully both decided to shut up.
“One of the first things I learned from both of you is that the best works require the collaboration of multiple classes,” I started. “The best armor needs both a [Blacksmith] and an [Armorsmith],” I said as I nodded towards Thorgrala. “And the best staves need the best [Carver], [Enchanter], and [Staffmaker],” I said as I nodded towards Elnil.
Then, I leaned forward. “The thing that you both missed is that masterwork doesn’t just need those classes. Masterwork means you need the best of everything!” I held the staff out. “This was a masterwork because we added Thorgrala’s masterwork-level mithril to the carving and enchanting done by Elnil.” I looked over at Thorgrala. “And I believe I’ve figured out the missing component for masterwork armor. You’re leaving enchantments as an afterthought. All you need is a design that works with the enchantments, and for a masterwork level [Enchanter] to be a part of the process!”
“I would rather die than work with that stick carver,” Thorgrala said in a huff.
“But… you already have, and the proof’s right here,” I replied. Then I paused as if I was thinking for a moment. “Actually, doesn’t that mean you were also the first to craft a masterwork item since this was a collaborative effort? Shouldn’t that mean she gets to make one demand as well?”
The logic was a bit of a stretch, but given the way the color drained from Elnil’s face, it seemed that he bought it.
“Ha!” Thorgrala said. “In that case, I’ll have you admit I’m the better craftsman!”
Things are going smoothly. Now time for part 3… Couples counseling. I paused briefly after that thought. I wish my plan didn’t boil down to couples counseling, but here we are.
“Why are you both so intent on having the other admit that you’re better than them?” I asked. “You both are the pinnacle of your respective fields. Why do you need to be better than each other?”
“To get this noble-born stick carver to stop looking down on me,” Thorgrala grumbled first.
Elnil gave her an incredulous look. “When have I ever looked down on you?”
“Don’t give me that!” she snapped. “You kept pitying me when I was getting started! I don’t need your pity!”
“You mean…” Elnil nodded slowly. “I tried to pay for your materials and equipment when you were an apprentice.”
“Exactly! I didn’t need a noble-born’s help! I was perfectly fine with what they gave me!”
“But-“
“But what?” she sneered.
“It wasn’t fair!” Elnil interjected.
She rolled her eyes. “Oh, now he gets that being a noble-born wasn’t fair. Only took him-“
“No, not that!” he paused. “Well, that too, but how you were treated wasn’t fair!” That brought Thorgrala up short, and he continued. “I saw how they treated you just because you weren’t from a good family. I watched as they gave you the worst tools and equipment to work with and how the most tedious work always fell to you.” Elnil’s eyes practically burned. “Even though none of them deserved to set foot in the same forge as you!”
Thorgrala was taken aback. “That’s what you thought?”
“By the bulwark of Pumil, yes! I could tell that none of them held a candle to your drive, your attention to detail, or your mastery of the craft! Even when you were just starting!”
This is going better than I guessed it would. I thought as I watched the pair recover a moment.
Thorgrala continued after a slight delay. “And how could you tell all of that?”
“I have eyes, don’t I?” Elnil said. However, he was turning a bit red, and it was obvious to both Thorgrala and me how much you would have to be watching someone to figure that out… especially since blacksmithing was not Elnil’s area of expertise.
“What about you?” I asked Elnil to change the subject and save the embarrassed old dwarf. “Why are you so deadset on having her say that you’re the better craftsman?”
The old [Enchanter] clammed up.
I sighed. I’m too old for this BS.
“Because you love her and want to show that you could provide for her, but you’re also stupidly competitive, and it got out of hand?” I prodded.
“I never said I loved her!” Elnil immediately protested.
“Please,” I said dryly. “Every other sentence out of your mouth is about ‘that stubborn mule.’ You’re obsessed with her.” I pivoted over to Thorgrala, who looked a bit smug. “And don’t think you’re off the hook. You’re just as obsessed with ‘that stick carver Elnil.’”
They both started shouting and arguing, but I just shook my head.
“Look, I don’t care. You two can sort out your potential love life on your own time. The more important thing is that I also assisted in creating this staff, which I believe means I get one demand from both of you.”
Two matching scowls greeted me. “And what do you want?” Thorgrala asked. “You’ve already been both of our apprentices behind our backs, so what more could you possibly want?”
“Armor,” I stated plainly. “I want the first set of masterwork armor made by the two peak artisans of the world. A full set.”
“You expect me to make it for free?” Thorgrala snorted. “You aren’t worth-“
Elnil stopped her. “No, I have a better idea.” He gave me a shrewd grin. “We only have to complete the craft. Why don’t we have the boy show us what he’s learned?”
Uh oh.
Thorgrala smiled along. “Why, that’s a great idea, Elnil! He can do all the work, and we’ll be the ones who finish the craft. You’ll also be paying for your own materials, of course.”
As Elnil nodded, I just accepted my fate.
“Fine,” I said with a sigh. “But you also have to provide any critiques as I’m going, or I’ll never be able to make a masterwork set.”
The two promptly agreed.
-----
It took a month just to get the blueprint for the armor set ready. There was a ton of butting heads between the resident [Armorsmith] and [Enchanter], and I had to eventually settle on the design that would disappoint them equally.
And then I had to craft the dang thing.
It did not succeed on the first go… Or the second… Or the third.
It turned out that attempting to make a masterwork item as someone who hadn’t been crafting for a century was rather difficult.
However, it was probably a good thing that I didn’t succeed the first go. It turned out there were a few more things I had to learn.
------
“Good morning, master,” I greeted Thorgrala as always. However, she was at a furnace that I had pretty much never seen her use.
“Morning,” she grumbled in my direction.
She was busy forming gold into bars… except it wasn’t gold. It was something even shinier? And it was at the wrong furnace?
“[Identify],” I cast quietly.
The System displayed “Molten Paladium.”
“Palladium?” I asked incredulously.
“Pal uh dee um,” Thorgrala corrected immediately.
Oh. It does only have 1 L. That’s-
“Perhaps the most useless metal out there,” she continued, utterly ignorant that she was interrupting my thoughts. “Can’t even be enchanted as much as gold, but people still pay top dollar for it because it’s shiny.” She shook her head and grumbled. “Waste of perfectly good magicite and gold if you ask me.”
“Oh, so that’s what you get when you combine magicite and gold,” I stated. “Huh. Are there any other good alloys like that?”
She snorted. “You mean any other useless alloys? Take your pick. Copper and magicite will give you conductinum. It’s just as useless as copper but ten times as expensive.”
I wonder if that works well with electric magic. I briefly thought as she continued.
“Then there’s iron and magicite. It gives you a material that looks almost exactly like adamantium and even shows up that way to the [Identify] spell.” She shook her head. “It’s useless. Weaker than copper. ‘Fool’s Adamantium’ is what it’s called.”
She started pouring the next mold, so I prompted her. “And what about adamantium and magicite?”
She laughed. “Adamantium and magicite gives you… adamantium and magicite. The two don’t mix at all. You’re just shoveling money into the furnace.”
She’s right. Those all sound terrible. Then I had a thought. “And what about silver?” I asked as I thoughtlessly picked up a bar of paladium.
The burning pain that shot through my hand caused me to drop it.
“Careful!” she chided. “I’m stuck making this useless metal because someone is hogging my mithril furnace, and I won’t have you ruining my income from this as well!”
“Of course,” I replied as I grit my teeth and moved the bar of paladium back onto the stack. Note to self, paladium hurts.
I coughed and repeated my question. “And what about silver?”
“Silver gives you vitalium,” she stated. “It’s best used for weapons, specifically ones for undead killing.” She laughed. “Not my area of expertise and not in high demand unless someone’s planning a major expedition into the deathlands.”
I nodded along, and then she snorted. “Now, get back to work, or I’ll start charging you for every minute you’re wasting my mithril furnace!”
I quickly returned to work and started making my next batch of mithril for my fourth attempt.
Fourth time’s the charm. I sarcastically thought as I poured in the silver, gold, and magicite.
There was only one problem. The mixture only turned partially white.
I groaned. Not enough mana! Really? Thorgrala will never let me live this down, and I’ll have to clean the furnace too!
I paused.
“Unless it doesn’t fail,” I muttered. I looked over and saw that Thorgrala was zoned out, which was enough for me. I pulled Singularity out, put my hand into the molten metal, and dumped almost 1000 mana into the alloy.
The mixture turned black.
I recoiled in surprise, and a bit of the unknown molten metal splashed onto Singularity.
I watched in a mix of shock and horror as the mithril-white staff slowly turned black, and even the blue magicite gem at the top turned to a menacing red.
“Filarion, is everything all right over there?” Thorgrala asked. “You didn’t ruin my furnace, did you?”
I could practically hear the scowl in her voice. Panicking, I quickly stuffed Singularity back into my inventory.
“By Pumil’s beard, what is that!?” she shouted as she finally saw the metal sitting in her furnace.
“Uhh, black mithril?” I half-said, half-asked.
And apparently, the System was just waiting for me to name it because that earned me an achievement.
System: New Achievement. Material Scientist. Class Perk Points Gained 5
“Whatever it is, I’m dumping it out right now!” she stated. “And you owe me a new furnace!”
“Wait, wait, wait!” I said in reply. “I think this is it. This is the batch. I’ll be able to make masterwork out of this. I know it!”
I was confident about that for one reason only. I had been worried about Singularity, so I’d opened my status and checked on it.
The mana gain was now up to 1000. Whatever the material was, it was better than regular mithril.
And possibly cursed. But I think I was a bit past caring about that at that point.
She gave me a look but sighed. “This is your last try. And you better not ruin any future batches of mithril because of this stunt!”
I breathed a sigh of relief, and only then did her curiosity show up.
“And how did you make this alloy, anyway?” she asked. “I’ve never seen it before.”
“No idea,” I lied. “It might have been something different with the magicite or the ore?”
“Well, try to figure it out. My classes tell me that this is a strong material.” She paused. “But that it might have something wrong with it. Be careful, all right?”
----
The good news was that was when I succeeded… or at least got far enough to get to the enchanting phase.
That required Elnil’s help more than ever, and he ended up staying over fairly often at Thorgrala’s.
That almost ended their relationship before it started. While Elnil could handle talking every once in a while, he wasn’t a big fan of hearing hammering at all times of the day.
Thankfully, I managed to save their budding relationship by enchanting him a pair of noise-canceling headphones… which was simpler than it sounds. It was basically just a single inverted rune.
The simplicity of that craft was heavily contrasted by the process of making the armor. I had to etch runes into every single plate and scale I was putting into the final armor set, all while Elnil watched with a judgmental eye.
It was well worth it. I could tell the finished suit was masterwork, even before I caught the knowing grins of the two artisans who made it possible.
Then it was finally time to try it on.
-----
“You sure I should try it on here?” I asked.
“Yes,” Thorgrala replied as she pulled out her war hammer. “And if it’s half as good as I think it should be, then you won’t feel a thing.”
I sighed and looked back over the suit of armor laid out in front of me. I was proud of it. It was a ton of work, and a product of two of the best crafters Placeholder would ever see.
It was also all black mithril and red dragon scales, and I couldn’t help but cringe.
Why’d I let myself make something so edgy? I asked as I started donning my armor.
The only saving grace was that I didn’t add unnecessary spikes or something like that.
I got the chest piece, greaves, boots, and gauntlets on with no problems. That just left the helmet.
I’m glad I checked how equipment resize works with horns. I thought. It turned out that Placeholder was very lenient with extra horns or ears when it came to helmets. The helmet would either resize to let them rest inside or, if the extra pieces of anatomy were big enough, would create holes that let them stick out. All without reducing the armor values that the System actually cared about.
That also meant I could make a masterwork helmet that didn’t obscure my face. Since a face shot would mean as much damage as a hit anywhere else, I didn’t see the need to make a visor and cut down on my peripheral vision.
“Stop going off to lala land and put the helmet on!” Thorgrala said impatiently.
“Right,” I replied. “Sorry.”
She prepared her hammer swing as I shuffled the helmet into place… and then she gaped in terror as my back burst into black flame.
Frick. I thought as the two stood speechless.
“Filarion… you…” Thorgrala spoke first. “Oh, System preserve us. You’re him!”
She swung the hammer with all her might, but it bounced off me harmlessly, just as she had guessed.
“I should have known when you were able to stand the forge fires without the [Blacksmith] class!” she said as she backed away from me a step. “Or when you made that evil-looking alloy!”
“Don’t try to fight him!” Elnil said. “Run!” He grabbed her hand, and the two took off running.
I [Flash Stepped] in front of them.
“Look,” I said as Thorgrala hit me with another useless swing. “Can we talk about this?”
For the third hit, I grabbed her hammer. Then, I took off my helmet and stuffed it into my inventory. The flames immediately died down.
“I would rather not kill you,” I stated. “So, if you swear to the System not to tell anyone about anything you have learned about Filarion or me, I think it’ll be fine to leave you alone.”
It took a bit more convincing and an oath on my part not to harm them if they did take the oath, but they eventually swore with the exact words I fed them.
With that, my apprenticeship was officially over. I even had the gear that I had come to Jenkins for in the first place.
The only question was what to do next.
It might finally be time to get some levels again. I thought as I made some quick modifications to my illusion to hide my armor and headed back to my inn.
------
“What have we done?” Thorgrala asked. “I wanted to make armor to protect people. And now I’ve made armor for that… that… monster!” She buried her head in her hands.
Elnil wrapped an arm around her. “He fooled me too. He seemed like a sincere young lad that just wanted to learn enchanting.” He shook his head. “And now I’ve armed the [Demon Lord] with a masterwork staff.”
The two commiserated for a moment before Elnil spoke again.
“I have an idea,” he stated. “Come with me.”
She asked where they were going, but it quickly became apparent that they were headed to the city center. More specifically, they were going to the obelisk.
There was a bit of a line, but given their age and renown, people ended up letting them through.
They went through the routine checks under truth stone about not being there as an enemy of the state trying to claim the obelisk, and then they stood in front of it together, hand in hand.
“System,” Elnil said softly, barely loud enough for Thorgrala to hear. “We have made a terrible mistake. We have armed the enemy of Placeholder with the greatest of tools imaginable. We humbly ask you. Please, give us the power to atone for what we’ve done!”
Elnil pressed their hands up to the obelisk, and they intoned the word together.
“Upgrade.”
There was a brief pause before Elnil burst out in tears of relief.
“Did you get the same thing?” he asked.
Thorgrala looked at her class upgrade notification and the single unique skill she was given. “Yes,” she replied. “Yes, I did. The [Demon Lord] may have fooled us, but he will not have our greatest work.”
Thorgrala could feel the information flooding into her. The one specific craft that would surpass any other.
“This might take years,” she muttered.
“Then we best get started now,” Elnil replied.
The two strode back to her house hand in hand and began drawing out the blueprints given to them by the world’s first joint skill.
[Combination Craft: The Hero’s Regalia].