— Keira —
With much of the residual tension bled from their interactions, Keir rather enjoyed talking to Marsaili as they strolled through the city. Alasdair had joined them when they left the castle but not for long. Shortly after entering the city proper he’d split off to deal with his own tasks both personal and official.
As they’d walked and chatted the city gradually woke up; the streets filling as the crystals lighting the cavern grew brighter and transitioned from a reddish purple to the pale almost white blue of the day. With the growing crowds it was clear that while the city was not entirely made up of dwarves they were the majority by a wide margin.
Despite their relatively sparse numbers the non dwarves were hard to miss. Unlike most races dwarves had very little variance in height. Almost every dwarf walking the city stood within two inches either way of five feet tall. Even the few outliers were only another inch or so off from the rest. The occasional gnome or kobold might be short enough to be hidden but most races stood at least head and shoulder above the surrounding crowd.
Keir moved out of the path of a cyclops carrying a minecart sized crate on one shoulder and said “Do you know if there’s an adventurer’s guild branch in the city?”
Marsaili was quiet for a few steps, clearly thinking before responding “If i’m nay misrememberin’ there’s two actual guild buildings. They may ‘ave a quest board an’ someone ta turn em in ta at the main miners guild hall. Ya got a quest ta turn in?”
Keir did her best to focus on what needed to be done rather than the reason it was needed as she said “Sort of, the quest will have been listed as failed years ago. Mostly I need to check in and update my current status.” She shifted her pack on her back and was reminded of something. “For obvious reasons I’m a bit out of touch with the current market. Do you know anyone who’d pay more for a giant viper fang than the current guild bounty?”
“nay, Some’a my troops likely could’ve told ya. I was nay seeking a prize when I sought permission ta clear out Still-Leaf. I was thinkin’ ‘bout such things e’en less when I was told the snakes’re dead an’ people claimed the village.”
While she wanted to get the best price for her loot, Keir wasn’t particularly surprised that a high ranking general didn’t know off hand the price of a low tier monster part. “Fair enough. On a more pertinent note what can you tell about the pair you’re ta..?” The last of her sentence was cut off by sudden din of industry as they stepped over a thin line of runes carved across the road. Marsaili looked over to Keir so Keir spoke louder to be heard over the sounds of hammers ringing on metal and stone “What can you tell me about the pair we are going to meet?”
Marsaili gestured to the workshops, many of which were clearly blacksmiths, and said “Ya can probably guess tha’ smithin’ and engineerin’ ‘re popular professions in a city run by a high tier smith. They’re also a mighty hard way ta make a name fer ya’self.”
Keir thought about it for a second and said “you mean because the market is oversaturated?”
Marsaili shrugged and answered “Tha’ an’ Its hard ta convince customers ta take a chance on yer forge tha’s only be open a decade o’er the smithy their family’s used fer generations.”
Keir wasn’t entirely sure where Marsaili was going with that but she nodded her understanding and Marsaili continued “I met Aleka when I was lookin’ fer a dagger as a gift. She’s nay a master smith yet but she’s mighty skilled fer her tier. O’er tha years I’ve got ta know ‘er pretty well. From wha’ she’s said she’s gettin’ frustrated with tryin’ ta make a name ‘ere. She also shares a smithy with ‘er partner Emrik, who’s a skilled engineer a tha same tier.”
As she spoke Marsaili led her down a side street and then down some stairs on a path barely wide enough for them both to walk side by side. The path was mostly lined with bare stone walls with the occasional solid metal unmarked doors. Keir was torn between a faint suspicion she might be walking into an ambush and thinking it was no wonder the smith was having a hard time getting noticed.
Just as Keir was genuinely getting a bit suspicious she saw an anvil and hammer carved into a heavy gear hanging from a rusty metal post that almost touched the opposite wall. The light of a forge shining on the path and opposite wall and the clear sound of hammering on metal made it clear the sign was indicating an active smithy. The pristine sign hanging from a poorly maintained support was somewhat odd, but Keir didn’t dwell on it for more than a moment.
As Keir followed Marsaili into the wide arch leading to the smithy she saw an orcish woman hammering away at a chunk of steel. Rather than interrupt her work Keir walked over to stand beside Marsaili to watch the orc.
Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.
The smith was dressed in sturdy leather straps and patches that preserved her modesty but not much more showing powerful muscles rippling beneath dark green skin. Droplets of dark red ran down her bare skin and tried in vain to stain her clothes before dripping onto the floor. If Keir wasn't familiar with orcs she might have thought the woman just switched from bashing a bloody corpse to hammering steel. Instead it was a clear sign of how hard the orc was working. Blood sweat, as it was colloquially called, was a liquid, the color and consistency of most red blooded creatures’ blood, that orcs secreted while hard at work or in the thick of battle. It acted as a coagulant and antibiotic, among some orc tribes it also slightly increased their rate of healing.
After a few seconds Keir pulled her eyes from the orcs body to her face and smiled to herself. Like many orc tribes the woman’s hair was pulled back in a complicated braid. She was also gently biting her upper lip from concentration showing an oddly endearing tusk. While the presence of blood sweat showed she was working hard the expression on her face showed she was enjoying every moment of it.
Keir and Marsaili continued watching as the steel began taking on the rough shape of a stone ax. That went on for a few minutes before some sign Keir couldn’t identify made the smith return the steel to the forge fire.
— Aleka —
After ensuring the portion of the stone ax blade she’d be working on next was heating properly Aleka turned to face the pair who’d arrived while she was hammering. She’d noticed when they arrived and half expected to need to stop early, but when she recognized the dwarf she’d been fairly confident the pair would wait. The steel alloy she was working was slow to heat up so she gave the pair her almost undivided attention.
As soon as she got a good look at the pair it was clear why General Stonefury, no she was supposed to call her Marsaili, why Marsaili had brought the elven woman to her smithy. The elf’s leather armor and breastplate were in decent shape. Aleka was fairly sure they were enchanted by either the system or mana infusion. The rest of her armor, especially her gauntlets and greaves, were practically falling apart. If they didn’t seem to fit so well Aleka might have thought she’d taken them off an old corpse. It was only when Aleka looked into the abyssal depth of the woman’s eyes that she realized that maybe the armor was still on the corpse that wore it in life.
Aleka’s focus on the likely undead nature of her customer didn’t hold her focus long after she noticed the large two handed blade the elven woman carried. She wondered if the elf would let her examine the blade. Not only was the sword a mastercraft weapon it was forged from the mana infused steel only found in the Steel Coast Archipelago.
As she was considering whether she should ask about examining the sword She realized she’d just been silently staring at the woman’s gear for an uncomfortably long time. She hurried to speak up, doing her best to salvage the situation, “Marsaili, It’s gud ta see ya back in my smithy. Ya bring yer friend fer some armor repairs er replacements? I need ta finish that stone ax. Orichalcum steel alloy is, eh, temperamental. Ya heat it too many times an the powdered orichalcum separates inta pockets in da steel. Not much left ta do though, ye can place yer order now an I’ll ge started round lunch time.”
Aleka held in the urge to sigh or rub her face as she finished talking. She definitely over-corrected and talked far too much. She really needed any sale she could get, but she was feeling like any chance of that was rapidly slipping away. Steeling herself she looked at the faces of the two women. General, no Marsaili was looking at her with fond exasperation and the elf whose name Aleka forgot to ask looked amused.
Marsaili let out a small chuckle and said “Nay lass, I dinay bring’r fer armor. Is Emrik ‘ere? I brought Keir here cause she’s got a big job I think ya both’ll be interested in.”
Aleka was feeling cautiously optimistic. She trusted Marsaili and if the elf, Keir apparently, offered up a big job for both of them it would probably cover at least a month's rent for the smithy, maybe even a couple. It would also offer a decent chunk of experience and valuable practice. Before she could get lost thinking about what to do with the rewards of a job that hadn’t actually been explained let alone offered she nodded and said “Aye, they're probably tinkerin wit tha crossbow a her’s. Tha ax’ll take most’a an hour ta heat ta a workable temperature. Come on in an’ ya can tell us about this big job.”
Aleka led the way to the door in the back of the smithy and hesitated fo just a moment before opening it. The elf, no not the elf Keir, seemed to notice her hesitation and stepped a bit closer before speaking in surprisingly clear orcish “If you’re not comfortable inviting a stranger into your home that’s fine. I take no offense and the job isn’t so secret we can’t speak of it out here.”
Up close and a bit away from the forge Aleka could smell sea spray and freshly spilled blood clinging to Keir and her voice was the sort of deep slightly husky that reminded her of the sailors along the Wandering Sea. For a moment Aleka was lost in thoughts of home before shaking it off to answer, also in orcish “It’s not that. Any friend of Marsaili is a friend of ours. The living area is just a bit, well you’ll see.” and opened the door.
The living area door opened onto a small room with an area to wash off the grime of the forge before moving on. A stone basin could be filled with water and stone shelves and pegs could hold gear while it was cleaned and dried. All of that was provided by the dwarf they were renting the smithy from and frankly were rarely used. Sitting on the edge of the basin was something Aleka had brought from her tribe. She walked over and picked up the fist sized lump of rune etched sea salt. With a pulse of mana the soot and blood sweat were cleaned away in an instant.
With that done Aleka led the way into the small living and dining area beyond the entryway. While the space was clean it was also small and showed its age. The stone walls and floor were worn smooth and uneven from the many previous tenants. The furniture was fairly well cared for and clean but it was also clear that none of it actually matched. A small ancient dwarven stone table with the carvings worn almost smooth was flanked by a pair of collapsible chairs made from salt glazed driftwood and brine boar leather. A small granite and iron wood couch was draped with a colorful green blue and purple woven Harpy blanket.
Aleka gestured towards the couch and speaking once more in common trade speak she said “Ya can take a seat if ya like. I’ll go an fetch Emric.” and slipped through the curtained off door to her workshop.