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Bloodsworn Ch. 2.35
🕑 Added 2025-05-03 22:51:41 +0000 UTC35.
“They’re going to get us all killed.” Sammus leaned against a doorframe as he looked out and over the marching group. Erak grunted as he looked over the mass of militia and couldn’t help but shake his head. Pomp floated above him and Nevia stood silently just a few feet behind them. They were standing in a small, temporary training office Erak had made for him and his officers. He had refused to let the militia members leave the field.
They camped here and trained, ate, and slept in the field and in their armor. He’d give them a twelve hour break before they left, but he needed every minute of training before they left back for the depot. Erak had to agree with Sammus’s thought, the undertrained militia was likely to get them all killed.
“Snowbeard is waiting for us, Erak,” Pomp reminded him and Erak just nodded. He turned to Nevia and shot her a questioning look.
“Easy day today. I want them fresh for tomorrow when we go to the depot. Food and water and plenty of rest,” Nevia said. Erak left them as Nevia marched onto the field and began to bark orders. Pomp flew with him as they headed toward the entrance of the dwarven stronghold. Every day the halls became more filled, humans, dwarves, elves, and even a few of the giant-blooded. There were other races Erak knew, but they didn’t often leave their ancestral homes.
Snowbeard’s forge was as hot as it always was, filling the space and causing Erak to break out in sweat. He was glad that this was going to be the final amount of forging needed for the foreseeable future. The forge was uncomfortably hot and he didn’t enjoy his time in here, regardless of the wonders that the dwarf produced.
“Erak! Good. We can finish!” Snowbeard bellowed from the corner as Erak walked in. Erak wasn’t needed so much as Pomp was and he used that reasoning to position himself as far from the forge as he could in the crowded room.
Snowbeard used a pair of tongs and pulled out the bar of glowing white coldforged iron and set it on his anvil and then went back in to pull out the heated sword. The dragonbone didn’t glow with heat like the iron did, but rather smoldered. Coldforged iron fought the heat, battling against it until it was overwhelmed. Dragonbone drank it in deeply and became malleable after it had surpassed its limits.
Erak wondered how hot that lake had become with him in it to warp his blade the way it had. His wounds had been life threatening and it had ruined a rare grade suit of armor, but to see the dragonbone blade hardly bothered by the forge’s heat made him rethink how much the armor had saved him.
He stood silently as the dwarf pounded the two together, all the time Essence poured off of him and into the two items. They wound around the items and slowly they started to merge under the rhythmic beat of the hammer. Sparks exploded off of it and sent a shower that landed just short of Erak’s boots.
“He seems younger,” Pomp whispered, snout only inches from Erak’s ear. The cold breath was a welcome from the suffocating heat. Erak nodded, the dwarf had raised another level, and more years seemed to have been shed. Snowbeard worked quickly and efficiently, every blow landing with enough power that Erak had no desire to stand in the dwarf's path.
“Levels have an anti-aging effect. Rutledge would know more,” Erak thought at his companion.
“I wonder if they’d eventually be able to heal your scars? Regain your voice.” Pomp stared at him with intensity the little spirit rarely showed.
“Don’t worry. I won’t replace you.”
“As if you could.” Pomp punctuated the statement with a blast of icy mist. They let the silence consume them as they watched the master smith. Twice he had to return to the forge and reheat the mass of metal and then pulled it back to slam it back to his anvil and continue to work it. Finally, Erak had noticed he’d stopped sweating a few minutes ago, the dwarf for Pomp. Pomp launched himself over the sword and launched his breath attack on the blade.
As before all the freezing cold Essence was sucked in by the coldforged iron, sucking it down like a bottomless hole. Erak sighed in relief as the room cooled down and waited for Snowbeard to finish his work. The dwarf sighed, exhaustion evident on his face.
“Another day for the finishing touches. I’ll have it finished before you leave for your mission.” Erak looked at the mess of blackened metal that roughly resembled a greatsword. He nodded to the old dwarf and left immediately, heading back to his room and for the canteen to get some water. Pomp, now incorporeal, floated through him to settle inside of his chest.
He reached his quarters, drank a canteen of water, changed, drank another canteen of water, and then left the room to head towards Victoria’s throne room. She kept her own private quarters isolated, but she had taken over a former cafeteria and used it to host her court.
Every day she would sit and hear from her subjects and issue her decrees. She had other rooms for planning with her closest allies, but this room was the gathering point. It still served its old purpose of serving meals for her subjects, though generally only Northerners sat in the room to eat.
It was largely deserted as he walked in, the queen not currently there, but there were a few of the guards stationed around. Including the ones who had been with Rutledge on the last mission. Erak steered his way over to them and sat down, the men looking at him with guarded eyes.
“Yes, Erak?” the leader of them asked. He was a man approaching middle age with crows feet around his eyes. His skin was pale and his green eyes shone as he looked over the table toward Erak.
“Rutledge. I want you to keep an eye on her. I don’t trust her.” Erak signed slowly and all the guards nodded slowly. The mention of Rutledge had made them nervous, but they quickly relaxed.
“The Queen has told us to guard her. And to bring back all the information retrieved directly here.” The man glanced around carefully to ensure no one was close enough to hear them. Only Northern warriors were in the hall and they were few and far in between.
“The Sage cares more for knowledge than safety. Bring back only paper and no experiments she may wish to bring. Or samples. We can not risk the Queen’s safety to satisfy the old woman’s curiosity.” Erak received another round of nods before he got up and fetched his own dinner and sat by himself. He ate slowly, mind consumed with thoughts and doubts.
The militia he had been cursed with. Rutledge’s curiosity and desire to see the dark knowledge the Empire had hoarded. The royals circled around right outside of Victoria’s orbit, ready to pounce. The missing Emperor and heir. The horde of monsters waiting in the woods outside of the depot. That last thought was the easiest for him to deal with. He would just smash them under his hammer. Not all problems could be solved with steel though.
“This is going to get complicated.”
