Rick glanced around, checking the street signs. Half a block on the right. He recounted the directions he’d received, taking his time to turn the corner lest he run into someone.
All of the potion bottles at Olwell’s Chemical Formulations on display had been works of art.
A potion was colorful liquid and these low grade potions were the simplest. They didn’t have the mana reactions or alterations you would find in the higher-level creations.
While the liquid was interesting, putting them in potion bottles and containers that drew a nobles eye were a great tactic.
Looking all pretty and delicate as shit! Just how in the hell was a fighter supposed to use these in the field. He’d have to wrap them up in socks and underwear to protect them. I’ll have to find some cheap and hardy glass vials to hold them.
Thankfully the ones that Melody had thrown into the bag after his fellow student’s ‘donations’ had been simple in design made of thicker glass.
People watched him navigate through the streets carefully and take wide berths from people walking the sidewalks, turning heads.
You’d be going wide too if you had eleven gold protected by a paper bag and fancy ass glass!
He looked through the small glass windows of his target. A globe speared on a pole hung above the door.
He stepped through the door into a building of polished wood and fine maps.
“Hello sir, can I help you?” A woman turned at the sound of the door’s bell. “Looking for a map of the forests and Stained Mountain Range to the north. Also a map of the world if you have it.” There were fine globes of all kinds, maps with incredible detail. “I’m looking for maps with the greatest amount of accuracy, if they’re waxed or waterproofed that would be for the best.”
“Very well,” She moved between counters covered in glass, showing various maps beneath.
She opened large drawers to the side, revealing maps inside.
“Do you have compasses? Again something more general use and hardy.” Rick asked as he looked over the maps. They had great detail on them, some of the northern half of Plynthia, many on parts of the Stained Mountain Range with claims marked out among the heights.
He quickly moved through the drawers she’d opened.
The terrain and world changes so much. There were familiar features in parts, but it was hard to match what would come and what was the state of the world now.
The colors weren’t as rich and instead of flowing hands the names were stamped in place. No additional images either.
He took out several maps and laid them on a nearby counter, getting doubles of everything. The lady had put out several compasses as well.
Rick picked them up, checking the metal they were made from. He went with two simple ones of metal with a cover that flipped over to protect the needles. “Would you have a waterproof carrying case?”
“Just a few,” She opened up and closet and pulled out stiff treated hide tubes with a strap. Straps holding the lid closed and a hole at the bottom to drain water if any got in.
“Perfect, two of those too then. How much do I owe you?” He waved at everything.
She flipped through the maps on the table, then looked over everything. “That will be fifty seven silver and forty coppers.”
“Right,” Rick put his damned alchemy bag off to the side and put down the coins.
She started counting them as Rick took one of each map, organized them from those that were the most detailed about the forests and mountain range, to those that went further out to the world map.
That way I just reach in and the first map should be the one that is the most useful.
He glanced at the world map. “Do you have a pencil as well?”
“We have normal pencils and wax pencils.” She said.
“Couple of each?” Rick asked.
“Fourteen copper.”
He added more coins to the pile she hadn’t gone through.
She moved around the store, pulling out several colored wax pencils and regular pencils, handing them to Rick.
“Oh, uhh could I get that as well? Don’t need it as ornate,” He pointed to a geometry set, including, ruler, drawing compass, protractor and other tools.
“That will be thirty three coppers,” She said.
Rick nodded. It was specialized and abnormal compared to most tools. He handed over more coins, checking around. Think that’s everything!
She brought over a set for him.
Rick nodded in thanks and took one of the pencils, using the tools he started marking up the world map, showing where mountain ranges would fall, others would rise, phenomena settled. Deserts sprouted and oasis’ cropped up.
Dungeons, tears as well. There were some islands here right? Guess the land there fell away.
The woman that had been serving him finished her counting. “That’s everything sir, do you need anything else?”
“No, that should be good. I’ll be a few minutes if that’s okay?” Rick didn’t look up from his markings and drawing.
“Of course, take the time you need.” She’d earned a good profit why would she chase him out? She cleaned up the store as he worked feverishly.
He used his body between her and him, picking up two more pencils with his will and guiding them over the map, working even faster.
He had to use less pencils, waiting for his mana to recover before he could control them once more.
Rick stood up after a couple of minutes, checking the new map infront of him. That looks more like what I remember.
He turned the map over and started writing on the back, adding in information that had cropped up as he’d been working on the map.
Finally with his brain wrung out on the page Rick put his pencils away and blinked the low grade headache.
He tucked the maps and all of his newly bought items away, closing up his map tubes before slinging them over one shoulder.
“Thank you!” He said, turning, grabbing his potion bag on his way out.
“No problem!”
He stepped outside, he’d already checked his newly bought maps finding a nearby smithy.
Just have to get there without breaking this crap.
Rick grumbled as he began his weaving through foot traffic.
***
Rick checked the street and crossed over, heading to a smithy, careful of his alchemy filled paper bag.
The door opened, Rick weaving around them and through the doorway into the office at the front of the smithy.
The working guts of the shop lay through a door behind the counter.
The smell of metal and coal was thick in the air, heat blasting through the door as it was jostled by a worked passing through it.
Nails of all kinds were on display, various types of railing, horseshoes, and banding for cart wheels Copper pipe and various other building materials covered the walls.
“Can I help you?” The man at the counter asked.
“Do you rent out time in your smithy?” Rick asked.
“Uhh, we’re not looking for employees right now,” The man said.
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“Not looking to get employed, just looking to make some things,” Rick said.
“Uhh I don’t know.” The man said. “How long are you thinking?”
“Say two days?”
“Okay, let me just ask my boss.” He went through the door, letting out the heat. Leaving Rick with another employee filing down a horseshoe.
The man returned a few minutes later with an older man his beard streaked with grey the bulkier build of a smith and the soot and marks of someone who worked for a living.
My guy.
The smith looked at Rick, his eyes latching onto the Veloria Academy crest and studying Rick overall. "Timothy here says that you want to rent space in my smithy.”
"That's right," Rick replied. "I'm Rick, just want to make a few things. What's your name?"
"Darnell." He studied Rick for a moment before continuing. "Do you have tools or understanding of smithing?"
"I'm going to need a full set of tools. I'm thinking long tongs, medium tongs, as well as a few hammers and chisels. I'm going to need a hearth and anvil. Do you have any steel or leather I could buy from you?"
"You've smithed before?" Darnell asked, sounding doubtful.
Rick chuckled. "I've been smithing for,” Rick grimaced. I'm in the body of a damn kid. This is so frustrating. “Well, it feels like a long time.”
Darnell frowned at his words. "You know, it can be quite dangerous. There's a lot of potential for injuries. If you know what you want to have made, I'll do it personally.”
Rick put himself in Darnell's shoes. He could understand the skepticism. Some kid from Valoria Academy, coming down here, asking to rent a space in his smithy.
Rick let out a sigh. “Look I understand what you’re saying, some jumped up kid that’s coming down here to play blacksmith. I get you. How about this. I get you a gold coin as deposit incase I mess something up or get in your way when you’re working and screw up your productivity. I’ll even do a contract laying it all out so I can’t use ‘I’m a fucking noble there’s no way I’d scam you bullshit’.”
“Not a normal noble’s son,” Darnell said.
Rick chuckled. “Nah, not much of a noble. So we got a deal?” He reached out his hand.
Darnell hesitated for a second and then shook Rick’s hand. His eyebrows went up feeling the strength in Rick’s grip.
“You let me know if you need anything. Got balls kid.”
“Well I’ve already got one thing on the rest of them nobles,” Rick grinned and winked.
Darnell let out a surprised laugh, the lad filing the horsehoe trying to hide his grin. Timothy scratched the back of his head at the whole thing.
"So what tools are you looking to get?" Darnell asked, waving over to the wall where a selection was pinned or placed on counters.
Rick glided over to the display, his fingers itching as he started grabbing different things off the walls. "Ah, steel tools. Been a while. Good quality," he said as he put them on the counter closest to Timothy and Darnell.
Darnell looked over them nodding silently in approval.
Rick got the most basic tools, he didn’t need anything crazy and he could only bring a few with him on the expedition. “Pig iron or steel stock. How much for a kilo?”
Darnell frowned. “Cost you thirty-three coppers for getting iron here. Be ninety-one for the same weight in steel. Prices getting higher everyday with the mines up north closed down and the railroads spreading across the kingdom.” He opened his mouth to stay more but closed it instead.
Hunter’s Bureau was charging fifty. Really are scumbags. Darnell was probably increasing his price too, but everyone had to make a little bit else they starve.
The matter that Darnell had probably closed his mouth over was how it was becoming harder to mine iron and coke needed to turn it into steel. Rumors of beasts and all kinds of creatures. The workers said it, but the nobles were deaf to their complaints.
And I’m about as noble looking as they come. Being a noble had never done anything to help him in his last life. Shedding his titles had been one of the most freeing experiences. Though he had never been able to assuage the guilt of turning his back on the Isendia name that his grandmother and grandfather had worked so hard to build.
"How much are you looking to buy?" Darnell asked.
Rick considered for a moment. He'd need 10 kilos for each set of armor. He was going to go for the basics: bracers for the legs and arms, a chest plate and back plate, and a helmet.
Then another kilo or two for the swords and general items.
He quickly moved over to the chisels again, picking up a couple, knowing the style that Len preferred to use.
Rick moved over to the knives that were located along the wall, he tapped on a few, testing them for their flaws. He picked out one, turning it around. Should work well.
He added the new pile to the counter.
"I'd say twenty-two kilos in total. Of steel," Rick said.
Darnell, looked over at Timothy.
The man stepped up to the counter quickly. "Okay, so all of this works out to... fourteen silvers. And seventeen copper.”
“Twenty-four for the two days in the smithy,” Darnell said.
“Fair enough.” Rick took out his coins and put them on the counter.
"Reg, grab that crate over there for Rick's gear," Darnell instructed. The lad who'd been filing the horseshoe grabbed a crate next to where he'd been working and began loading it up with items. Timothy counted the coins and put them away.
"Thank you kindly," Rick said, grabbing the crate in one hand and the paper bag in the other.
"All right, this way," Darnell said, lifting the partition in the counter and allowing Rick through. "Reg, grab him the steel and take it over to the second forge."
Rick held the door open with his foot for Reg, who was coming through behind him.
"Got it, boss," Reg replied. Darnell led Rick through to the smithy. They passed a storage room filled with finished items and raw metal. Reg walked into the storage room, checking markings on crates.
Past the storage room; five forges lined the left wall, a straight path moving down the right wall from office door to receiving door open at the rear.
Only three of the forges were lit. Two at the very end nearest the open door. Then the one closest to the storage room.
He could smell and taste the tang of iron the choking smoke of coal. He started to relax with the familiar smells.
"That's you over there," Darnell pointed to the second forge. It was cold. "I can get Reg to light it for you," Darnell said.
"No worries, I got it," Rick said. Darnell looked over and shrugged. "Alrighty. Coal is down near the fifth forge. Have to buy it if you want to use it."
“Works,”
Reg headed off towards a storage room behind the office. Coal, steel, iron, and products filled the space. Coal was held in a large hopper at the back right of the space. Darnell led Reg over to the unlit forge.
"Anything else you need?" Darnell asked.
"No, this should do me just fine," Rick said, putting his crate of goodies on a workbench to the left side. The forge was set up simply. There were two workbenches on either side, with the hearth in the back, and a chimney extending upwards. In the middle of the space was an anvil. The other side was completely open, leading to a large open space that ran from the door behind the counter to a large barn door at the other end for deliveries.
"Okay, well, if you need anything, just holler. I'll be right next to you," Darnell said, heading out of the forge.
Rick put his paper bag in a safe space, making sure it wasn't close to any flames or something that could break it.
He unslung the map cases and put them next to it.
The hearth was cold, but the coal and fire starter had already been positioned, ready for someone to light it.
Rick glanced around, moving towards the hearth. He drew in the ambient heat in the air. It was abundant, gathering with ease, cooling his skin as a flame appeared between his fingers. He empowered it with mana and flung it towards the hearth, igniting the fire starter.
Drawing upon the element of air, he guided it through the space into the hearth, spreading the fire and fueling it.
He reached up, altering the shutter above the hearth, containing the heat within.
Damn, this is draining my mana already. Rick reached out for the old bellows. Got to do it the old-fashioned way.
He pressed down on it, feeding more air into the hearth, spreading the flames throughout the coal within.
"First load," Reggie said, lifting a crate with a grunt, dropping it on the workbench opposite where Rick had dropped off his tools and bag. The rough steel ingot clinked against one another and the box.
"About 10 kilos in that one." Reg patted the crate.
"Perfect," Rick said.
"Do you want all of them right now?" Reg asked.
"Yeah, that'd be best, I think." Rick turned his gaze back towards the hearth. Reg, headed back towards the storage room.
Rick held his hand out the hearth, understanding the heat of the coals, he used tongs to shift it around, creating a white-red bed of heat.
He put the tongs to the side, before picking out a steel ingot, he gathered the little mana stored in his channels and core. Though it would take a few days to temper his body and cultivate his core. Which was something best done away from prying eyes.
He’d created a technique of his own Resonating Strike.
Mana could be used in many ways, Rick regularly injected his mana through his hammer into the material he was working on. Higher grade materials required a mix of heat and mana in order to be formed.
Used right and one could increase the grade of a material and final product as well as decrease the time it took to create such gear.
Mana had the power to alter the world, to transmute and alter rules that held before the apocalypse.
With one’s will they were able to command mana within their body and beyond. The stronger one’s will the finer their control over mana.
Rick’s issue was that he couldn’t command that much mana with such a small core.
There was a time when I had no mana. Rick snorted, gathering his mana and flicking the steel ingot.
Threads of mana resonated through the steel, revealing the natural folds, inner structure and impurities of the steel.
He took out several other ingots, organizing them in groups. Based on the impurities and natural form they’d be better for different pieces of gear. Taking less time to hammer into shape.
“Those’ll work nicely.” Rick picked up his tongs, putting the ingot into the coal bed he’d made.
Reg returned with another crate, dropping it on the work bench.
“Here’s the last of it,” Reg said.
“Thanks,” Rick nodded to him.
Reg looked past him into the hearth, shrugged and headed back to the office.
Rick finished organizing his ingots, then laid out his tools. He pulled out the first ingot with his tongs drawing a hammer.
He held the steel to the anvil, drawing his mana up with his will he struck the iron, the resonating strike running through.
It smoothed out the steel and guided it into the form he desired, flaking out impurities he didn’t want.
He cast a heat spell into the steel instead of wasting it heating air. Using his tools and anvil he began hammering an ingot into a thick sheet. He put it to the side to cool as his mana drew low.
First piece done. He’d rounded the thick sheet into a forearm bracer. He wiped his brow, looking into the flames.
He caught Darnell’s eye as the man passed. He gave Rick a tight nod, glancing over at the bracer in disappointment.
It was well made and smooth, but it was much thicker than normal armor. Someone wearing it would quickly lose their stamina.
Not going to be able to use much mana to aid me. He grimaced, with his resonating strike he could have hit fifty kilos of hot metal and it would have snapped out into a perfectly square and straight sheet.
He had the strength of a young man and the energy, damn it felt good! Though he didn’t have his cultivation. Stronger than average, but weaker than the weakest cultivator. That was why he’d made the bracer’s thick.
With his core formed and his body tempered, a thick bracer wouldn’t weight much at all. The thinner stuff would barely turn a mana-mutated beast’s teeth.
Rick used his tongs to take out a second piece of steel.
The world faded back away from him, seeing all the swords Len had used in his life, the ones he’d been the best with and the ones he’d sucked.
Humming to himself he tapped his hammer on the anvil, to reset, then brought it down on the steel.
He brought it back and smacked the ingot, driving his muscles forward and mana through his channels, that ran through his hand, his hammer and into the metal. Doing three times the work with the same hammer blow.
His hammer rang out with strikes, Rick fell into an age-old rhythm. His face a mask of concentration as his heart sung. Damn feels good to be in the forge again.