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Dexter
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I sat up and stretched, swaying slightly in my hammock as a dull pounding reverberated through my skull. I rubbed my head as I dropped down and began nursing my hangover. “Note to self: beer here has a higher alcohol content.” I walked over to the ladder and climbed down as I started planning. “There are some givens that are an absolute necessity if I want to take Nione. I'll need an offensive weapon for the elves, defensive armor for the orcs; and above all else, I'll need to find a way to unite the tribes. Just taking the city with the strength of Gashur would bring the whole weight of Adympia down on it, regardless of how well I've done it.” I turned and spotted Amelia sitting at a table, a glowing orb floating just above her head. I walked over and glanced at the book she was reading. It was the spellbook that Brokil had left us. She glanced at me as I stopped beside her, looking over her shoulder at the spell she was reading. The pounding in my head made it difficult to distinguish the words. “Good morning.” She yawned. “How'd you sleep?”
I let out my own yawn as I rubbed my eyes. “Pretty good,” I admitted. “But my head is killing me right now.”
Amelia nodded as she turned the page. “You drank a lot last night. You barely got your sword off before you slumped into your hammock. You're probably really dehydrated right now. Drink some water and you should be fine.”
I nodded as I moved over to the table and poured myself a cup of water. “So, what are you reading?” I asked curiously, taking a sip.
Amelia waved nonchalantly as she ran her finger down the page. “Just some other spells. I'm still trying to figure out how the words and gestures connect to the effect.”
I shook my head as I swallowed a mouthful of water. “mm- There's no point. We'll eventually learn how to make spells anyway. There's not really a reason to connect the dots ourselves for that.”
Amelia nodded but kept reading. “You have a point. Still, I think it might be worth it to look for a pattern.”
I shrugged as I took another sip, feeling a cool relief flow through me as the water traveled down my throat. “Suit yourself. I'm going to go ahead and brainstorm some ideas for an attack.”
Amelia looked up at me curiously as I walked by. “You're not going to get back to the car?”
I shook my head as I picked up a binder and opened it to ensure there were clean papers in it. “It's centuries ahead of its time, literally. I'll probably slow myself down if I try and go for that right away. Plus, there are many machines I'd need to reverse engineer just to get the engine block made correctly. Shurkul is good with metal, but the cylinders need to be precisely cut otherwise the whole thing is busted.” I picked up a pen and moved over to an open table. “Plus, there's the issue with the fuel source. I'll need to start from the steam engine and work my way up if I want to make the electricity we need. The electric motor is useless without the electric part.”
Amelia nodded as she looked back down at her book. “Just don't forget about the magic. If your suspicion is right, there are also magical forces to contend with.”
I paused at the thought, then nodded as I sat down and opened the binder, staring at the blank page. “I'll come up with something,” I assured her. I started toying with the pen as I racked my brain for ideas.
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I had fewer ideas than I thought I had. At least, fewer ideas that I was willing to put on paper; I'm pretty sure a Zombie Dinosaur is a little bit beyond the realm of magic. I stared at the page after three hours of brainstorming. A rough diagram of a siege machine stared back; A cannon powered battering ram that I knew had no feasible way of working without an entire forest of wood. “It'll be flammable as shit too. Plus, one misplaced spark will cause the whole thing to go up anyway. I can't just cordon off the powder either. The troops need to access it to fire the cannon.” I let out a sigh as I flipped back through my previous ideas; robotic horses, an aqua-kinetic staff, armor made out of the bracelets' material. “That last one seems a little outside of the realm of possibility, at least with what the orcs. The orcs don't even know how to unlock the bracelets, let alone make another one. Plus, it probably took a bit of work to make it indestructible. I can't imagine how much it would take to do that to a whole suit of armor.” I let out a sigh as I leaned back and stared up at the ceiling. “Any luck?” I heard Amelia ask.
I shook my head as I rubbed my face and looked at her. “The things that I have come up with are either too technologically advanced or not advanced enough. Seriously, I have a laser gun and a bow that automatically ignite its arrows on the same page. I can probably enchant a bow to do that, but it's going to be useless against a city with cannons. The gun is leagues above the tech the orcs can scrounge up. And to top it all off I still need to find a way to unite the tribes and this hangover is not helping in the slightest.” I let out an angered sigh as the pounding in my head grew worse.
Amelia stood from her seat and walked over, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Maybe you should take a break,” she suggested. “You might be able to come up with something if you walk around a bit.”
I thought about it for a minute, then nodded as I stood and stretched. “Might as well. I need some fresh air anyway. I'll head down and see what Shurkul is doing. I still have to thank him for the sword.” Amelia nodded as I walked past her and picked up the blade, wrapping the leather around my waist as I moved towards the door. “I'll stop by the Institute as well, see if they'll let us borrow some more advanced books.”
I looked back and I saw her waving at me encouragingly. “Good luck.” She called out as I pulled the door open.
I waved back and gave her an encouraging smile as I stepped into the light. “You too.” I pulled the door closed and started making my down the hill and toward the forge, noonday sun keeping me warm in contrast to the cool air. “What about some sort of solar beam? A concentrated blast of pure solar radiation could potentially work, the only problem is the energy necessary, and it's fucking useless against a hunk of metal traveling at the speed of sound. Anything inorganic is equally unaffected, meaning it's pointless to use it as a siege spell.” I let out another sigh as I rubbed my hands together, fighting the chill of the air as I walked past the buildings. A few orcs smiled wide and waved my way as I passed. I waved back as I walked by and took note of the buildings under construction. Some of them had their walls in place. While others were just finishing building the frame. I stretched as I continued to come up with ideas. “What about that railgun thing? That's probably the easiest thing to do. Then again if that's the case I'll need to make a counter to that. A kind of armor that'll absorb the projectile without hurting the wearer beneath. Plus there's the effort necessary to consider.” I rubbed my head as I realized I was thinking in circles. “Just get to the forge. You don't have enough information to know what's possible with magic. For now, you can see how well the steel milling is going.” I looked back up as I finally arrived at the forge, bloodstain now gone and gash covered by an odd board. I blew into my fist to warm it up before pushing the door open and stepping into the forge.
I looked around as I entered, looking for Skurkul. I realized how empty it was as I noticed how little material was left from the last time I was here. Only a few orcs were hammering away at weapons and armor and Shurkul was nowhere to be seen. A lot of weapons were missing and a few of the bins were noticeably lighter than before. I was about to ask the apprentices about where Skurkul was but was stopped when I heard shouting from the courtyard out back. I rushed out and saw the completed Bessemer machine. A large black metal cauldron, just big enough for me to sit in, was turning in place as Shurkul shouted orders. “Keep the bellows going. The last mold had too much coal in it.” I turned and saw a pair of orcs running on a makeshift treadmill, powering a series of bellows that fed into the machine. Urog was crouching beside the treadmills, a container in her hand as she watched the mechanisms whir from the speed. She would occasionally tilt the container to pour its contents onto one of the connected gears, covering it in a viscous slime.
I saw four other orcs gripping two sets of looping chains that led to gears on the bottom and side of the chamber. I looked up at the lip of the monstrosity as I saw sparks fly out from the interior. The orcs kept panting as they ran and Shurkul held up his hand. He suddenly lowered it, signaling one of the pairs to pull on their chain and tilt the chamber forward. They complied and poured the liquid metal down a small trow and into a series of molds, connected as one long strip of metal carried by four other orcs. They stared intently at the pouring metal disappearing into the small circular entrance along the mold. After a minute they signaled to the others, causing them to pull the other way and tilt the chamber back up. The ones carrying the mold then moved it forward to let the next one rest beneath the chamber. They worked in tandem to pour a total of six molds, the chamber practically empty when the last drop of liquid fell into the mold. I grinned as I saw them finally place the long strip of metal down, chamber letting out one final drip of liquid steel, and let out a sigh. Shurkul raised his hand and signaled everyone to stop. Urog let out a sigh and wiped her forehead as the apparatus between the treadmill and the bellows finally slowed.
I walked over as the orcs on the treadmill let out a sigh of relief and collapsed on the spot. “Good afternoon Shurkul.” I voiced, stepping beside him.
Shurkul looked over and grinned. “Welcome, Outsider. I did not expect you for a while. Have you already come up with an idea for a weapon?”
I shook my head as I gestured at the Bessemer Chamber. “I haven't yet. I thought I'd look around to see if something comes to mind. By the way, nice work on the chamber. That was, what, a hundred pounds of steel?”
Shurkul looked over at the mold as the apprentices panted and waited for further instructions. “Fifty.” He corrected. “It fills half a dozen molds. We cannot fill the contraption up too much, lest the metal not properly mix. Your transcript is surprisingly detailed. I only struggled with a single batch before I corrected the error. At present, I can make three batches a day.”
I nodded as I glanced at the mold then at the forge behind me. “How much have you made so far? I noticed a lot of your bins were emptier than before.”
Shurkul waved me inside as he explained. “A great quantity of metal was needed to repair what was lost as well as make replacements for unsalvageable items. As for this outsider metal, given that the merchants are expected to return from Varthug soon, I have decided to convert a quarter of my metals into steel.” He suddenly stopped beside one of his bins and lifted the lid, revealing a pile of shiny steel ingots within. “I plan to trade some of these for more material. I can then turn that into more steel with the coal Gashur pulls from the mines.”
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
I nodded as I looked at the metal. It was nearly imperceptible, but I swore there was a different gleam to these ingots. I turned back as a thought occurred. “You're not worried about the other tribes figuring out how you made it?”
Shurkul shook his head. “This is unquestionably a complex process, only possible after decades of time and effort spent refining old methods. At most, they will discover that this metal is far superior to mere iron, as you claim. Thus far you have been correct in your claims.” He pointed at a pair of mannequins in the corner. They wore identical plates of armor, save for the noticeable gleam on one of them. A gash could be seen on the one without the gleam while the one that did only had a noticeable dent. “Besides, I can control how much is released. For every ingot I trade, I can have twenty more waiting in my forge.”
I nodded as Shurkul finally lowered the lid. “Good point. Plus, the steel rusts slower than iron.” I added, recalling a tidbit I learned ages ago. “You still have to be careful around water, but it's not as prone to rusting.”
Shurkul raised an eyebrow at that. “This is the first time I have heard of this.” He remarked.
I nodded as I placed a hand on my sword. “Something about the carbon makes it harder for oxygen to bond with the iron,” I explained. “It's not much, but it's useful in certain circumstances. It takes special treatment for metal to be completely rustproof. At that point, we were building gigantic ships out of metal.”
Shurkul grinned as he stared at me. “Ships out of metal?” He asked, half laughing. “Surely that is impossible.”
I grinned as I nodded. “Oh, they’re possible. Massive ones at that. You could probably fit one of your ships inside it, easily. Maybe even a good twenty.”
Shurkul's eyebrow rose. “That must be a magnificent sight.” He proclaimed. “I cannot imagine creating enough steel for a ship that big.”
I nodded as I gestured towards the door. “Us humans probably produce enough metal in a year to rival the entire hill outside. Some of it resists rusting, others not so much. Steel is basically our go-to metal for a durable material. The sword you made me probably doesn't need as much care and maintenance as an iron sword.”
Shurkul nodded as he reached into his apron and pulled out a piece of parchment. He began reading through it as the other orcs finally entered, wiping sweat from their brow and making for the pitchers of water on a nearby table. “I assume that is what this refers to when it mentions corrosion resistance.”
I nodded as Shurkul returned the parchment and I unsheathed my sword. “Anyway, I wanted to thank you for this. I'm not knowledgeable on blacksmithing, but I know a good sword when I see one.”
Shurkul nodded as he held out his hand. I obliged and handed him the sword. Shurkul began swinging the blade experimentally as he stared at it closely. “A tad heavier at the handle than normal,” He remarked. “Must be from the lighter weight. I could work around that and give my blades a broader tip. That could give the wielder a small advantage. Of course, each warrior has a preference when it comes to balancing.”
He looked at me as he handed the blade back. “What do you think? Does it suit you?” I gently swung the sword around as I got a feel for the blade, grinning to myself as it dawned on me what I was holding. “My own motherfucking sword. This is every guy's wildest dream.”
I turned back to Shurkul as I sheathed the blade again. “I'm not experienced enough to give an informed opinion, but I think this is pretty good for me, at least until I train up a bit and find a better groove. That, and come up with a useful outsider weapon.”
Shurkul nodded as he looked around at the still panting orcs. “I suppose you still have to come up with such an item.” He suggested.
I nodded as I rubbed my head and looked around. “It's a lot harder than I thought. Sure, I can look around at your methods and see how to improve it, but when it comes to weapons from my world, I'm stumbling blindly.”
Shurkul nodded as he gestured at a rack of weapons. “Many of our blades took decades to develop. It requires many years to appreciate the subtle differences between each blade and how to forge them. Your outsider magic would likely follow a similar pattern.”
I nodded as I looked at the various shapes and sizes of the blades. It was almost dizzying how many ways metal could be shaped to kill. I let out a sigh as I stretched, finally feeling the soreness from the Arena yesterday. “I'm not coming up with anything in here.” I groaned. “I should have expected that. There are only so many ways these can be improved. Nothing that I know right now would give the staggering advantage we’d want over the elves. I think I'll just head down to the Institute and see if that stirs up some creativity.”
Shurkul nodded as he gestured at the bin. “Then the best I can do is wish you luck in your endeavors and congratulate you on your achievements thus far, Champion.”
I grinned and nodded as I looked towards the door. “Thanks, I'll be sure to keep you up to date on anything I come up with.”
Shurkul nodded as I moved back towards the door. “I look forward to it.” He called as I left the forge. I grinned to myself again as I made my way down the street and towards the Institute. “Maybe exploring some magical areas will be more stimulating. Lord knows I need something extremely creative to counteract actual cannons. Speaking of, maybe I should head over to the Eastern Barracks while I'm out. The cannons won't give me any new ideas, but looking at what they took from the elves might be helpful.” I let out another sigh as I looked down at my forearm and stared at the scar. “Either way, I need to prioritize magical spells, healing specifically. I don't want to constantly have to carry a potion into battle.” I looked back up as I continued walking, greeting orcs as I passed, and slowly made my way towards the Institute.
The smiles slowly turned into wariness as I walked through the districts. They eyed me suspiciously as I strolled by. I tried to keep a neutral expression as I neared the institute. “I guess Bulak was right about that. They don't exactly believe what happened.” I kept my hand on my sword as I continued to walk through the streets.
After ages of walking, I arrived at the archway leading up to the building and quickly approached the door. I pushed it open and stepped into the entrance hall. I looked around at the objects laid out on the tables. Even from here, I could tell these items were enchanted. I grinned to myself as I walked around and stared at the objects. “This should give me some ideas.” I wandered about the room and gazed at each object as I pondered their use; a necklace with a strange eye pendant, a staff with a blue glowing orb, a basin filled with a reflective liquid that seemed to ripple without being prompted to. I carefully examined the artifacts as I tried to think of a weapon. My enthusiasm slowly devolved into frustration as I stared at all the objects. “Shit, this is going to be harder than I thought. I have no idea what these things do or how to improve them. At least my hangover isn't as bad now.” I turned towards a doorway as an orc suddenly walked through, carrying a black cauldron that rattled with each step. He stared at me as he set the cauldron down. “Can I help you?” He asked.
I nodded as I approached and pointed back at the tables. “I'm going to assume you know who I am; so I'll get straight to the point. I'm poking around hoping I find some inspiration to come up with something against Adympia. What can you tell me about these artifacts?”
The orc paused for a moment then nodded as he looked around and gestured at each table. “Some of these I am not knowledgeable on, but of those I am; that is an eagle eye necklace, that is barrier staff, and that is a chronographic pendant; the eagle eye pendant allows for the sight of long distances, the barrier staff allows the channeling of better barriers, and the chronographic pendant allows the user to keep careful note of the solar cycles.” I nodded as he listed each item. “They sound very useful on their own. However, there are other ways to accomplish these goals. If I were to name items, a telescope, a shield, and a clock would do the trick. So they’re great, things that could easily be substituted with human tech. Nothing useful as a weapon.”
I looked down into the cauldron as my prospects for the items diminished. Inside the container was a pile of pale stone, the stones at the bottom barely visible through the ones on top.”What are these?” I asked, picking up one of the partially opaque rocks and examining it.
The mage gestured at the cauldron below him. “Quartz crystals.” He explained. “At least, crystals that are deemed adequate to trade with the merchants. The mines use some of our tools, so they give the Institute a portion of the minerals they dig up.”
I nodded as I thumbed the crystal and looked into the cauldron. Similar milky crystals sat within, filling the pot halfway up. “It must be pretty barren if these are the only crystals they could dig up,” I noted, thinking back on all the other crystals I’d seen.
The orc shook his head as he pointed to the door he had entered from. “These are only the ones we've deemed adequate. We are not even finished sorting through the stones we received in the last year.” I looked at him skeptically, thoughts slowly piecing together an idea.
I finally dropped the crystal back in with the others. “Show me.” I requested. The orc nodded as he gestured behind him and lead me through a series of doorways. We finally emerged into what I can only call a processing room for crystals. Tables were lined up and piled with an assortment of crystals. About a dozen orcs meticulously sorted them into two boxes. Most were dropped into the nearly full box on their sorter’s right. Tiny pieces or opaque crystals were automatically dropped in there. The rest were carefully scrutinized and either dropped in with the others or placed in a small box to their left. The boxes on their left were noticeably barren, save for one or two stones. I looked around at the dozen or so tables of sorters, bewildered. “All this to sort some rocks?” I inquired.
The orc nodded again as he looked at one such empty box. “We have no control over the crystals they pull out or send us. For the most part, we can use any quartz for mana stones, but there are also stones of abysmal quality hidden within. We trade the few excellent crystals we receive for foreign ingredients, exotic gemstones, and some arcane materials that we wouldn't receive otherwise. Garahk is currently devising a spell that may allow us to transmute these lesser crystals into ones of greater quality.”
I walked over to one of the full boxes and pulled out a stone, examining the pure milk-white rock as the idea started to solidify. “Does the quality affect how good of a manastone it makes?”
The orc nodded as he watched me. “It is very rare to find a quartz crystal without faults. They make the most effective stones. That is why Garahk is exploring possibilities of transmutation. Doing so would heighten our research in enchanting and spell crafting.”
I nodded as I continued to stare at the bin. “How much do you usually receive in total per year?” I asked curiously.
The orc scratched his chin thoughtfully, clearly curious about my line of questioning. “We can receive anywhere from a hundred pounds to three hundred pounds of quartz in a given year. This year the mine gave us about a hundred and fifty pounds. Still, we have a supply of quartz from prior years. We have yet to sort through some years. I hear a few students wish to create a spell that would allow swift sorting of these rocks.”
I turned back to the orc as I dropped the stone back in with the others. “Do you really use that much?”
The orc nodded as he raised his hand, showing me a bracer studded with stones. “Many enchanted objects require some form of mana storage to function. Quartz is the simplest and easiest material to use. We can make enchanted stoves, manastones, some of the larger stones may even be made into staffs. But those stones are rare and difficult to find, at least ones of adequate quality are.” I nodded as I looked back at the box, brain whirring with possibility. The orcish mage stepped closer, interested in my thoughts. “Why are you so curious about this?” The orc asked. “Surely you outsiders have no way of aiding us here.”
It was my turn to rub a chin as I continued to stare at the bin. I turned to the mage as a prior statement of his echoed in my mind. “The enchanted stove is just a stove that runs on mana, right?”
The orc gave me a quizzical look then nodded. “It can perform any task a fire stove can.” I nodded as I turned back to the box of opaque rock. My idea gradually grew concrete as I finalized a plan, a conversation from years past surfacing as I decided on my idea.
I finally turned to him as I began listing on my fingers. “If I were to ask you for one of those enchanted stoves, a very large cauldron with a lid, a large amount of acid, a manastone that passively generates lightning, and a bin of your crappiest crystals, would you be able to get them for me?” The orc looked at me, confused. I noticed a few of the orcs sorting crystals were now staring as well, overhearing our conversation.
The orc finally started stroking his chin as he considered my list. “I suppose; the manastone would take some time to make, and Garahk would have to approve of the request, but what would possess you to ask for such things?”
I grinned as I looked back at the bin. “I think I know what to do with your 'useless' crystals.” “The only other thing I need is some rubber.”