Chapter 47: Solid Equipment
TRISTAN
When Tristan emerged from the dungeon, he saw a familiar wagon parked right outside the cemetery. It wasn’t the same one that had driven him there, but that ended up being even better. In the driver's seat was Billy, the half-elf who had taken him to Garrow’s. It was enough to make Tristan actually grin despite the pain in his leg.
“Billy, I’m so glad it's you. Where's the nearest healer?”
“You look rough,” the driver said with a whistle. “How does The Agora sound? It's not actually the closest, but it's the one that's not Steelblood-aligned, so... Yeah. Though I guess we could also go to the Temple of the Embrace.”
“The Agora’s fine, if you trust it,” Tristan grunted as he pulled himself into the back of the wagon. It was full of grain for some reason, and Tristan struggled to shape the bags into a comfortable bed while minding his leg. “I thought The Agora was just a bar.”
Billy laughed deeply at that. “Not quite. The Agora is the kind of place that offers a little bit of everything, and then some.”
After a moment's silence in which the wagon began moving, the driver picked the conversation back up. “Did you tackle that dungeon all alone?”
“And got a variant, of all things,” Tristan confirmed.
Billy shook his head. “Damn. Guess the leg’s not nearly as bad as it could’ve been then. Should only be a few minutes to the healer... You going to be okay?”
Tristan grunted. “I walked out under my own power, didn't I?” But thinking better of his tone he tried again, “Sorry, yes, and I appreciate the concern. Seriously. It wasn't easy.”
The wagon jostled violently, perhaps from a pothole, and Tristan yelped. “Don't feel the need to rush!”
Chuckling, Billy nodded and the wagon's pace slowed. “Whatever you say, boss.”
Tristan nearly whited out from the pain, even as short as the ride to The Agora was. Billy apologized to him once they'd arrived. Tristan thanked him before slowly lowering himself to the ground. “I'll be back as quickly as I can.”
“Don't rush on my account,” Billy replied, pulling out a book and reclining on his bench seat.
Tristan limped into The Agora as another tall woman was walking out, and she all but walked through him, knocking him completely off balance. Tristan collided with the doorframe, sending another shock of pain up his leg. There were harsh guffaws from a table of four nearby, but Tristan chose to ignore them, seeing how tall the stack of empty cups was before them all. He wasn't sure the laughs were even aimed at him.
Still, his leg freaking hurt, and Tristan collapsed against the wall. It was all he could do not to howl in pain until one of the waitresses hurried over to him.
“Welcome to The Agora, sir! I couldn't help but notice that you seem to be in a rough state. Would you like me to summon one of our healers? I can personally attest to their excellent track records! And in the meantime, can I offer something for the pain?”
Tristan gasped as he nodded. “Yes, but, uh, just the healer! And quickly, even if it costs extra.” He coughed. “I mean, if it's within reason?”
The waitress gave a nervous nod.
“Can you just,” and he pointed toward a chair, which the waitress immediately pulled out for him.
“Yes of course, sir. I'll bring Phillip right away. You just stay there and try to rest.” She was gone before Tristan got settled properly in his chair.
No sooner had the waitress vanished into the back when a familiar voice called out, “Tristan? What are you doing he--oh gods, that leg looks bad!”
Tristan tried to smile, recognizing Sophie's voice. The smile won out over the grimace when he heard the upbeat “Meep. Meep meep!” of the fluffiest astral he knew.
“Yeah, it's not great,” he replied, “but the waitress is sending a healer...”
“Is it Phillip?” Sophie asked, her tone unreadable. “It probably is. He's not the best they've got on staff, but that's why he's usually available. He’ll also be the least expensive.”
“What does that mean, ‘least expensive’? How expensive are the others?” He hadn't actually considered before how spoiled he'd been by having Cleo practically on-call for months.
Sophie sat down across from him, thankfully not jostling the table. “I don't know; Phillip is reasonable? I should think that in your situation cost wouldn't be an issue. It's your leg after all. And he will probably be able to fully heal it.”
She must have seen the worry on Tristan’s face, because she moved the conversation to a different topic. “How are you doing otherwise?”
Tristan laughed, but that ended up hurting so badly that he instantly regretted it. “Great. Just great. I got to spend some quality time alone in a cemetery.”
“Rockmoor Cemetery?” Across from him, Sophie seemed to perk up even more. She hadn't taken a sip of her drink in a while. She was even ignoring that Poof was working her way out of another bow--a cerulean one, this time. “Get any good loot?”
“A few things,” Tristan admitted, “including some new toys I can't wait to experiment with.” He pulled out a [Signal Flare] to show her.
Sophie’s brow crinkled uncertainly, as Tristan recalled that she didn't have access to [Identify] yet. “That looks... interesting? At least a solo dungeon sounds like fun. I wish we could handle something like that, but maybe in three more levels.”
Only three? With a quick [Identify], Tristan's surprise was replaced by joy for his friend.
[Sophie, Human, level 7, Astralist]
“Hey, you gained another level! Congratulations!”
Sophie smiled but also sighed. “Thank you, but it still took finding another group to get there. We're just not quite self-reliant yet.” She patted Poof’s back gently. “Though it’s only a matter of time now.”
Tristan nodded. “Well, are you still up for some more help? I just finished another round of research, and I think we could do another dungeon in... I don't know. At least a couple of days. Maybe a week?”
“Phillip will handle your leg today, if that’s your concern.”
Tristan decided it was better not to tell her just how comfortable he’d grown with healers and near-death experiences. “No, or rather, not my only concern. I have a few more important lessons with Jamal, but maybe in a week.”
“How about in ten days?” Sophie offered. “I've got some family stuff to deal with, too, but I should be done by then.”
She didn’t offer to explain further, so he didn't ask. But boy did he want to. As far as he could remember, Sophie had never brought up her family before. Not even in passing.
“Okay,” he agreed. “Ten days from now, we'll run another dungeon. Do you want to come to Jamal's, or meet here again? I could also go to your--”
Sophie cut him off. “Sure, I can go to you for once. We don't have to keep meeting here, even if that is kind of it's whole purpose.”
Tristan raised an eyebrow. “If it’s more convenient, I was about to offer to meet at your place--"
“I said Jamal's was fine,” she said, standing up.
Tristan smiled. “You sure did.”
“Anyway, see you then. And good luck with Phillip.”
Tristan pulled out his coin purse and looked within. “Thanks.”
“Are you sure you're good?” Sophie asked.
When Tristan didn't respond immediately, she walked over to him and silently set two platinum pieces on the table beside his hands. She gave him a nod, and walked out without saying anything further.
Tristan stared at the two platinum coins for far too long. He'd never in his life seen that much wealth just casually handed out, even with Aaric. He swept them off the table and held them in his hand until Phillip himself came to relieve him of them.
He only got a couple gold in change, too. He’d have to remember to really thank Cleo next time he saw her.
- - - - -
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The first thing he did when he got time to craft again was fulfill the promise he’d made himself prior to using the [Crafter’s Blessing]: he upgraded his hammer to tier 2. Luckily he had a beautiful stash of white mithril, given to him by his own father. If anyone would appreciate Tristan’s love and attachment to his hammer, it would be his father.
There were no new affixes gained in the tier-up, but he could tell that his strikes would come easier and be more precise as the hammer naturally applied more guidance to each swing. For his part, Tristan also felt that he was growing closer to the hammer, like it was now a friend--or family.
With the newly-upgraded hammer in hand, he couldn’t wait to get to work. For Tristan, there were fewer things sweeter than the sound of this hammer striking and shaping metal while the heat of his own personal forge warmed his skin. For the next week, Tristan made time to experience it as much as he could.
In going back over his performance in the cemetery, he'd realized that several of his injuries and problems might have been lessened if he'd taken the time to finish upgrading his gear beforehand. He'd been tier 2 for a while now, but he still didn't have a full set of solid equipment. What would his father say?
He'd definitely scold me for not taking the time to properly prepare myself first, Tristan knew. And he'd be just as mad that it took me this long to realize it. His father had always sworn by his whole “lunch with a side of reflection” thing. Which, Tristan supposed, was why he never made the same mistake twice.
So Tristan made himself a list, and each day he worked to check off one item after another.
The first two days went to making pants. His father definitely would not have been impressed with what he ended up producing, and it was abundantly clear that Tristan hadn’t practiced that piece of armor nearly enough. But he ended up keeping a decent pair with the [Stalwart] property, since it added both health and armor.
The next item on his list was a pair of boots, since what he'd been wearing didn't offer any stats at all. He knew his lack of an upgrade was in part because anything remotely comfortable involved more leatherworking than he felt confident with. He didn’t get many of his usual bonuses when he wasn’t working with metal, for one thing. But he'd also been stalling because he hadn't wanted to buy leather--and he definitely didn't want to do any tanning himself. After seeing Sophie and setting the date for their next dungeon run, he decided to go out and buy some good, tier 2 leather. The salesman had tried to tell him what kind of cat monster it had come from, but Tristan hadn't really listened. It was good stuff, and his feet deserved it after what he’d put them through the last year and a half.
His very first attempt ended up taking eight hours, all told,and its result might have been a success... for someone other than Tristan.
[Evasive Boots (common)]: [Minor Evasion], Soulbound
The big problem was that Tristan didn't want dodge chance, and that was all the evasion property offered. His style of fighting would gain far more benefit from stacking parry or block. So he decided to unmake them and try again.
Seven hours later, right as the sun was starting to come up, he got the following notification:
Critical success! You have crafted a (Rare) item.
Bonus experience gained for all your crafting Classes.
Unfortunately, his ecstatic grin turned sour as soon as he used [Identify] on it.
[Evasive Boots (rare)]: [Major Evasion], Soulbound
It was practically the same item, just with a higher rarity, and thus a bit more dodge. Well, more than just a bit more. Still not enough that Tristan wanted it, but enough that he didn't unmake these boots for their materials. He should have enough left over anyway to make one more pair while keeping these, just in case these ended up being better.
Unfortunately, he had to disrupt his crafting flow and head to the arena, where his lack of sleep did not do him any favors. Jamal made sure he learned the difference between well-rested and tired reflexes.
When evening rolled around again, Tristan took dinner in his room and went back to work. He might have lost his flow from the night before, but that wasn't going to stop him. After six hours this time, he created his third pair of boots, which ended up being good enough:
[Sturdy Sabatons (uncommon)]: [Sturdy], Soulbound
When he saw that they gave him max health, he slid them onto his feet immediately, unmade all the other boots, and gladly moved on to the next project: a belt!
The entire rest of the night he devoted to what he'd incorrectly assumed would be a much quicker task. Technically, belts were easier and faster to make... But they all came with really weird and specialized affixes.
The first he'd ever made had been a simple [Leather Belt] without any properties at all. It was definitely time to replace it. His first new attempt produced something with [Clear-Headed] on it, a property he'd never even heard of before.
[Clear-Headed] While wearing this, gain resistance to the berserking, terrified, and confused status effects.
At least that one had a clear usefulness against anything on an affliction style Path. Technically it was an upgrade, since his current one did nothing, so Tristan equipped it. Still, He knew he could do better.
He made four more belts before he was out of leather, and each came with an equally interesting property.
[Lucky] While wearing this, increase the chance of finding items of higher rarity by 6%.
[Eager] While wearing this, reduce the cooldowns of all combat skills by 5%.
[Screaming] While wearing this, your attacks have a 12% chance (reduced by Will) of causing an enemy to flee in terror when hit.
[Unwashed] While wearing this, you emit a toxic odor that causes poison damage over time to nearby enemies.
Making that last belt had made Tristan want to stop crafting for the day. There was no way he was ever going to become a freaking ooze. And while the property might not say anything explicitly about oozes, he could read between the lines. What else stank so badly that it literally damaged those around them?
After composing himself, Tristan decided that he liked the [Eager] affix best, as it was clearly the most offensively oriented, though he could definitely see each of the others being useful. [Lucky] might even be the better pick overall, if he was thinking long term, so he stowed it in his backpack to ask about later, while putting the [Eager Belt (common)] around his waist. It didn’t matter to him that it would only affect a few of his skills currently. He knew that getting to use his most potent attacks even a little faster would provide a lot of benefit, especially over longer fights.
That just left a breastplate. He’d saved it for last because... well, because it reminded him of his father. Marrik Hammerson was renowned for his armorsmithing, and breastplates most of all. Tristan knew he wasn’t going to be able to compete with the man, but he still wanted to try to make something his father would be proud of.
He began by taking out the bars of tier 2 white mithril his father had sent him for his birthday. Once again, he admired how beautifully the metal had been worked. The mythril was known for being remarkably malleable while working it, though incredibly tough once finished. For a moment he considered whether he wanted to waste something so fine on a breastplate instead of a sword. But only for a moment. He still had ten bars of the stuff, and six billets left after his hammer upgrade. He shouldn’t need them all for this. When paired with his Core, Tristan figured a few of the bars would be plenty. That is, unless he ended up having to completely scrap several attempts, and what were the odds of that?
As it turned out, the odds were pretty high. He ended up totally ruining the first two bars he flattened out because he let them get too hard after the first annealing without realizing it. He kept on working it, creating stress pockets, until eventually he had to use too much strength to find the shape, and the plate cracked. It was probably fixable with enough time and effort, but rather than put that effort in now, he just took out two more bars (and offered a silent apology to his father) before moving on to the next attempt.
Before he started, he went back over all the steps his father had taught him. He even took out a notepad and wrote himself a checklist. He didn’t want to miss a single step and risk ruining more of that beautiful mythril.
He flattened the metal down as thin as he felt comfortable, and then he fashioned it into roughly the right size by using one of his shirts as a rough template. He was much more careful this time when annealing the metal, and once he was content that he hadn’t screwed up again, he lightly sketched a few guiding lines onto one side.
Then came the hours of pounding, mostly with his hammer’s dome face. With how thin it needed to be, he found that the metal kept trying to curl in on him, and he had to constantly stretch it back out, especially around what would eventually fit the upper part of the chest. He knew from countless hours of listening to his father that the work would just take time. Time and stamina and patience, and lots of all three. The material hardened beautifully under his hammer, strengthening until it grew stiff enough to need another annealing. Then the cycle continued, draining him both physically and mentally.
In the end, what he produced was a thing of beauty. It had crisp, clean lines, perfect musculature, and brilliant symmetry. What’s more, it felt far stronger than anything he’d ever made before. He’d noticed that his Core had been adding extra thickness to the plate as he worked it, but somehow that hadn’t required his hammer to work harder. It was just added defense without extra work, and Tristan was all for it.
With the metallic form done, all that remained was to turn one of the unwanted belts from earlier into straps that would hold everything in place. It was all going a little too smoothly, he had to admit. So he paused just before taking the final step, before everything was fully finished. He exhaled, slowly, as he double checked his work. Then he affixed the last strap.
[Enhance Craft] bonus! You have crafted a (Rare) item.
Bonus experience gained for all your crafting Classes.
Tristan barely remembered what that bonus even was. [Enhance Craft I] was a skill he’d earned all the way back at level 10! He quickly pulled it up just to make sure he wasn’t misremembering what it offered.
[Enhance Craft I] A passive skill that grants a minor increase to statistics, properties, and affixes of all items crafted by the user. After you craft an item, there is a 1% chance it will upgrade its current rarity, again (if applicable).
But sure enough, he’d somehow hit the 1% bonus effect. A one percent chance, Tristan thought, and it had to be on armor instead of a sword. He sighed. He shouldn’t look down upon such a great benefit, so instead he used [Identify] to see what, exactly, he’d made.
[Armorsmith’s Legacy (rare)]: [Armorsmith’s Boon], [Tempered Spirit (rank 2)], Soulbound
A breastplate crafted by the talented son of a devoted armorsmith.
[Armorsmith’s Boon] While wearing this armor, gain +7 armor and reduce the damage of critical hits by 50%.
[Tempered Spirit (rank 2)] While wearing this armor, every 30 seconds, reduce the damage of the next hit by 50%.
It was, to put it mildly, an amazing piece of equipment. It offered two strong defensive support affixes, even if they were both conditional. The [Armorsmith’s Boon] specifically felt insane, as it essentially made all critical hits against him into normal hits! He knew his father would be incredibly proud of this creation. Perhaps that was why it had been given its name: [Armorsmith’s Legacy]. Tristan could all but feel the presence of his old man when he looked at it.
And perhaps, if he was totally honest with himself, he could also see how it was inspired by the breastplate his father had been mending for the Brightshield. The same heroic form. The same color patterns. Just not nearly as fine or detailed.
Yet, he mentally added. He could already see places where embellishments could go. And for some reason, he kept imagining runes and enchantments going just here or there. What kinds of runes could a breastplate of this quality take? He’d love to ask Tempy, and possibly get her to help him do it.
As he cleaned up and put all his mats and crafts away, he kept envisioning lining his new breastplate with runes. And his sword. His mind raced with all the possibilities that kind of Path might hold.