AbyssalRoadTrip
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Abyssal Road Trip - 111 - Hear me now
🕑 Added 2021-09-04 03:50:11 +0000 UTCThe passage to the Dwarven community was unchanged, and atop the wall the siege weaponry, with crews in place. Wrapped up in concealing spells, Amdirlain hoped their wards wouldn’t object. As she approached the stone gate, a hatch in a far smaller metal door to its right snapped open, and a black gaze fixed on her. Since they’d positioned it below chest height on her Wood Elf form, Amdirlain stopped a few paces away and studied them in return. Coal-black eyes peered at her from a face mostly hidden behind a bright-red beard that split to show whitish teeth. A broad nose sat above the hedge, though their helm’s nose guard mostly concealed it.
“State ya business,” asked the guard gruffly, as they looked her over.
She hadn’t expected an introduction, and at least this time the guard had actually spoken to her.
Analysis
[Name: Rinlac Axebeard
Species: Mountain Dwarf
Class: Fighter / Smith
Level: 24 / 29
Health: 1,532
Defence: 111
Melee Attack Power: 75
Combat Skills: Club [Ad](16), Hand Axe [Ad] (14), Long Axe [Ad] (14),
Details: Rinlac, son of Kirlac, is the youngest member of the Duskstone Holding militia at only thirty-seven. He also presently rated an apprentice Smith Apprentice in his Uncle Dirlan’s forge.
]
“I’ve crystals, metal ore, and alchemical reagents for trade,” Amdirlain replied politely as she considered the details. “I was also hoping to hire an Alchemist to refine some materials or purchase from their stock.”
“Ya not carrying any pack,” noted Rinlac suspiciously, as his glance went from her feet to face again.
“Dimensional baggage, lets me avoid items being damage,” offered Amdirlain casually.
“No weapons on your person,” Rinlac observed hesitantly, as his gaze narrowed further.
“I fight with my hands mostly, occasionally spells, but I prefer melee combat,” Amdirlain responded calmly.
The hatch closed with a snap and beyond, a muffled conversation was barely audible. When it opened as quickly, she wondered if the youngster had needed to double-check something or get instructions.
“Show us proof of your goods then,” declared Rinlac, his gruff voice steady again.
Amdirlain nodded and slowly extended a hand, letting a geode that had split during the purification appear. The Dwarf tilted his head back and sniffed before he said anything further, and that simply to repeat his observations.
“She’s showing me an adamantine geode, Captain. Smells like clean metallic crystals, no negative energies, or other foulness,” stated Rinlac, without taking his gaze from Amdirlain.
“Open it up then.”
The order came with a sharp rap of command, and Rinlac hurried to obey. The hatch snapped shut, and a short time later, the metal door swung open to allow Amdirlain through. Once inside, she was in a narrow stone corridor with no one in sight. The corridor led into the holding and had two metals doors along its length, one immediately to the left, the other at the end. Its low stone ceiling, perforated with murder holes, forced her to bend slightly before entering. Light spells shone from the holes, but True Sight provided her with a clear perspective of crossbows aimed at her with rune coated bolts.
“Take a step forward, then hold your position while you’re checked.”
Rinlac’s voice came through the left-hand door, and Amdirlain followed his instructions. The door behind clanged shut the moment she stopped. Divine wards crawled along the corridor for an instant and left a faint itch in their wake.
“All clear.”
Phew.
When the words came from above and the door at the far end opened.
“Walk straight through. The duty sergeant will brief you on the rules of the holding for visitors.” stated Rinlac, not muffled this time as a hatch in the left door had opened when the all-clear came from above. With her head tilted, she could barely make out the larger passageway beyond him.
“Appreciated, I hope your shift is good,” said Amdirlain. When she moved forward, she endeavoured to keep an unhurried pace, despite the closeness of the passage. The door’s hatch shut with yet another snap, and Amdirlain had to keep a straight face as she wondered if he had drill classes for it.
The echoing chamber she entered could easily hold three Olympic-sized swimming pools stacked atop each other. Though with the large grilled gate to her left, the chamber certainly wasn’t watertight. The space beyond the grill clearly ran back towards the main gate. Indentations on the stone floor were the only sign of wear in the chamber. The cause was obvious, with the giant mechanical crawler to her right, its sides overgrown with bladed ridges awash with runes. A cross between an armoured personal carrier and an army lorry, a ramp at its back showed the empty cargo space inside with benches along the sides. The floor between them was a series of metal rollers.
The rest of the chamber was nearly seamless stonework, the tight-fitting blocks showing no sign of mortar or even tool marks. Directly across the chamber, a squat desk sat on a raised stone walkway about thirty centimetres above ground level, running the length of the room. Behind it sat two heavily armoured Dwarves wearing plate armour. As she took in the chamber and the crawler, they kept a steady eye on her. With her Telepathy restrained in case the wards might look for it, she gave a polite nod before she approached. Besides the two entryways in, there wasn’t another exit visible, despite the crawler clearly intended for cargo.
“Name, traveller?”
Armoured as they were, it was hard to tell the Dwarves apart other than their beards. The first Dwarf had the longer beard between the two, also in a bright-red, while the other’s beard was auburn and barely extended past the edge of their helm.
“Amdirlain.”
I feel like I’m in an airport customs area.
With a glance at their surly expressions she could only just make out behind their helms, she quickly used Analysis on both.
[Name: Kirlac Axebeard
Species: Mountain Dwarf
Class: Fighter / Smith / Scout / Commander
Level: 57 / 56 / 34 / 34
Health: 5,180
Defence: 215
Melee Attack Power: 145
Combat Skills: Club [M](1), Crossbow [M] (5), Hand Axe [M] (3), Long Axe [M] (27)
Details: Kirlac, son of Lacrin, is one of ninety sergeants among the Duskstone Holding militia. A Master Smith Kirlac shares forge space with his wife as they alternate duty weeks on watch.
]
Name: Natsal Stonevoice
Species: Mountain Dwarf
Class: Fighter / Priest
Level: 27 / 32
Health: 1,175
Defence: 96
Magic: 52
Mana: 2,784
Melee Attack Power: 56
Combat Skills: Club [Ad](8), Hand Axe [Ad] (3), Long Axe [M] (2). Various Blessings.
Details: Natsal, daughter of Salolf, is a Junior Priestess of Moradin. Her mother Salolf, is a Senior Mine Supervisor in Stoneheart.
]
Female Dwarves have beards, gosh.
Stoneheart, is that the same place near the ten kingdoms? I might need to ask Torm how he knew about this place. We didn’t talk about it. Then again, they’re Dwarves. I wonder how many worlds have a location with a similar name.
“Reason for visit?” Kirlac asked, his gaze not leaving her as Amdirlain approached.
“Trade - metals and Alchemical reagents,” declared Amdirlain, as she wondered how many times she’d have to repeat herself. Given this was the duty sergeant, she hoped it wouldn’t go on ad nauseam.
“Present a sample of each if you would,” requested Kirlac, his businesslike tone unfussed.
“The reagents smell,” Amdirlain warned as she made the cracked geode appear.
“They always do,” Kirlac muttered resignedly, gesturing for her to hand over the geode. The other Dwarf set bronze merchant scales on the desk between them, and when Amdirlain passed the geode, he immediately put it on one side. Instead of dipping towards the geode’s side, it remained stable, and energy rippled across the other plate Natsal observing the colours, checked them against a journal.
“This metal comes from the Abyss,” Natsal stated warily, flipping back and forth between pages. “Pure adamantine crystals inside, outer crust originates from Ternòx. There aren’t any remaining Abyssal energies in the geode, but the purification process isn’t in the journal.”
“Are the rest of the materials also from the Abyss?” interjected Kirlac before Natsal could continue.
“The adamantine ore is, but the Alchemical Reagents aren’t as far as I know,” admitted Amdirlain, glancing between them as Natsal made some notes on some parchment between them.
“To your knowledge?” asked Kirlac, his bushie eyebrows disappearing under the helm’s edge.
“It was a reward for helping free some individuals from the Abyss. I picked up the geodes and ore while I was luring Demons to kill,” stated Amdirlain,
“How did you purify them?” enquired Natsal, pulling another quill and inkpot from a drawer.
“Alternated Order and Celestial Mana saturation once I got to this Plane,” Amdirlain replied. As soon as she finished explaining, Natsal wrote out rune marks Amdirlain hadn’t seen before on a fresh page of the journal. Kirlac just watched her as Natsal worked, and at the frown he gave when she went to speak, Amdirlain held her tongue.
“I recommend that High Crafter Malnix see them before they’re sold to anyone Sergeant,” Natsal stated, and a further frown from Kirlac had her quickly continue her explanation. “While the scales show they’re purified, the combination of energy exposures will make them useful for specific crafting.”
“That might be the case for the geodes and metals. I’d like to examine the reagents,” Kirlac replied, handing Amdirlain back the geode without apparent concern.
Amdirlain handed over a pouch without comment, and Kirlac took it unbothered by the odour and set it on the plate. When the pouch touched the surface, the other side didn’t ripple in colours; rather, the bronze shone white as if ready to melt. Natsal quickly snatched the pouch from the scales as the other plate continued to brighten. On her feet in a heartbeat, she extended her arm to return the pouch to Amdirlain even as she spoke.
“Sergeant, might I request permission to escort Amdirlain through to see the High Crafter?” Natsal asked quickly.
“You or the High Crafter will need to brief her on the rules for visitors if you go now,” advised Kirlac, his tone a low grumble.
“I’ll see to that, Sergeant,” Natsal reassured him as she collected a shield from beside the desk.
“Very well,” agreed Kirlac. He gestured towards the walkway on his immediate left. A few moments after he did so, a seam split partway along the walkway, as the rest of the walkway slowly lifted nearly to the ceiling.
Two massive hoists held the panel open, the shafts, pulleys, and chains etched in rune wreathed with Mana that Amdirlain could see in the runes etched over them. Natsal led the way through, apparently unbothered by the suspended weight, and Amdirlain, with a glance at the panel, followed her.
“Only the Faithful may venture inside Moradin’s Main Forge, but I’ll see if the High Crafter will receive you in a side area,” Natsal stated.
Oh! That could get me in trouble.
“I wouldn’t want to intrude on the Temple. I could wait at a tavern until they have time,” offered Amdirlain, hopefully.
“Do you have any of our currency on you?” Natsal asked sceptically. “Until the High Crafter has determined who I should direct you to for selling your goods, I can’t direct you to someone who will buy them.”
“No, while I respect Moradin, I don’t know enough to determine if it’s right for me to enter any of his Forges, or adjoining buildings. Could we meet the High Crafter somewhere else?” requested Amdirlain, unfazed by Natsal’s grumpy look.
“Fine, though your attitude is a concern,” counseled Natsal.
“I don’t wish to offend, but I’d rather be cautious than trespass where I shouldn’t,” Amdirlain apologised, giving the Natsal a polite bow.
“You’ve goods, so I’ll stand you a drink while you wait to see the High Crafter,” replied Natsal. “The owner is likely to insist you buy something to occupy a table but I don’t enjoy inflicting a debt on someone.”
Amdirlain just made the cracked geode appear along with a fist-sized clump of ore and offered it to her.
“Collateral, and advanced repayment for the drink. Just give me the difference when you sell it,” Amdirlain offered.
“The crystals alone are worth far more than a drink. You’d trust me with this?” enquired Natsal. Her gaze narrowed and beard twitched as she spoke.
“I was recently told that without trust, nothing else can stand,” Amdirlain replied, giving Natsal a smile. “Where is this tavern then?”
Natsal took the items hesitantly but nodded at Julia’s question and motioned for her to follow.
* * *
The place reminded her of an old English country pub, low ceilinged but noticeably minus the smoke-stained wood, as everything within was stone. Marble serving top, rough grey granite floor, polished amber granite tables, which were surrounded by veined marble benches and chairs, Dwarves took children of stone to the extreme.
Amdirlain took another sip of mead as she listened to the Dwarven Chanter, who played an arrangement of miniature shields. Each beat sounded like a strange steel drum-xylophone hybrid, but rather than high-pitched, it was a deep rumbling bass. The crowd stomped their feet and kept time with his chant and beat. It was a tale that had started before she got seated, supposedly the short version of a conflict between Ogrèmoch, an Evil Elemental Prince, and Queen Mortha of Stoneheart. Hours later, the tale still wove on, undoubtedly a familiar one, yet the patrons still groaned and cheered—their responses a credit to the Chanter’s skill and the Dwarven taste for rousing battle tales.
A highlight had been the glares tossed her way; the Elves in the tale having refused to come to the Dwarven city’s aid; completely her fault since the tale was supposedly over twelve thousand years old. When she booed and hissed with the other occupants of her table, they’d stood her a round. It was a pleasant surprise when the tale ended without someone valiantly sacrificing their life to end the conflict. Mortha’s eldest son and some allies found the grotto where the gate had opened. When they broke the natural rift’s attunement, though badly injured, the strike force all survived.
Shortly after it concluded, the workers finished their rounds and headed off, their departure a wave of sound that promised to leave a low tide of quiet in the establishment. It was a wave that parted around a figure in gleaming mithril plate armour that strode in through the crowd. When their course appeared fixed on her, she drained her mug and turned on the bench to meet them as they marched up. Runes in the armour radiated Mana, yet different from anything she’d seen previously. The metal showed no inscribing instead whatever had set them in place had sunk them within and the energy gleamed through the metal. Similar runes ran across their shield and the end of their weapon hafts barely visible with the way they were slung across their back. Only the black edges of his beard were visible under the helm that enveloped their face, hiding even their eyes.
Analysis
[Name: Trinax Forgeshield
Species: Mountain Dwarf
Class: Fighter / Templar
Level: 56 / 54
Health: 4,510
Defence: 216
Magic: 47
Mana: 972
Melee Attack Power: 269
Combat Skills: Long Axe [Ad] (50), War Hammer [Ad] (50), Heavy Crossbow [Ad] (50), Light Crossbow [Ad] (50), Truncheon [Ad](50), Short Blades [Ad](50), Various Blessings.
Details: Trinax, son of Naxlan, has served the Temple of Moradin, since he qualified as a Templar during his apprenticeship trials.
]
It makes my rating at that level look weak. Can I get Analysis to explain?
Analysis
[Defence: Value combines the entities’ natural ability with the strongest gear carried by them.]
Analysis
[Bulwark Mithril Half-Plate
Defence Rating: 120
Crafter: Master Artificer Norrax
Details: When fighting defensively applies the wearer’s melee attack power into their defence rating, this stacks with any class or skill effects. ]
Analysis
[Bulwark Helm of Truth
Crafter: Master Artificer Norrax
Details: Part of the Bulwark Mithril Half-Plate set, this helm has a constant effect of True Sight [Ad] (20) applied when it is worn. The helm’s enchantment also provides the wearer all-round vision, which takes a new wearer some time to adjust to possessing.]
Analysis
[War Axe of Baneful Sundering
Melee Attack Power: 130
Crafter: Warsmith Delrex
Details: Deliberately striking an opponent’s weapon has a greater chance to disarm foe, break weapon, or damage limb. The weapon’s attack power also reduces the foes defence rating by an equivalent value when attacking them directly. ]
[Analysis [S](12->13)
Maybe I should get some equipment, but I’d prefer to avoid counting on stuff that can get taken off me.
“Lady Amdirlain, Forge matters will keep the High Crafter another few bells, though he would like to meet. I’m to escort you to Master Artificer Norrax’s workshop and be your guide while you are in Duskstone. Priestess Stonevoice, said she only briefed you on the basic rules as you planned to wait here.”
“That’s my name, but I gave no rank,” Amdirlain replied, as she stayed seated to avoid looking down on them.
“That is the rank that the High Crafter told me to use,” declared Trinax, his tone unbothered. “My name is Trinax, son of Naxlan.”
“Thank you, if you’d show me the way,” Amdirlain replied. As she rose Trinax had already started for the exit.
Trinax led through the holding’s corridors that all stood taller than the Dwarves needed, with multi-level building fronts on each side of them. They’d carved each fronting in clean lines that showed the focus of the building’s use. The tavern’s door had sat inside a barrel’s plug hole - with the staves and bands showing in otherwise smooth rock. Others appeared as boot soles, cloth drapes, hide, cascading gemstones, various tools, or metal bars. Though it illustrated their shop type, each still had a sign above its door etched with the same sharp lettering as Natsal’s journal.
He passed them all at the same steady pace, returning many greetings from others as they worked their way through the holding. When their path led them to a blank stone wall, the stonework rose smoothly upwards after a few moments of silence.
“Don’t go wandering by yourself in here. The High Crafter has given you dispensation, but it will confuse the guards if you’re not accompanied, until word has spread,” Trinax instructed, before he ducked under the rising stone.
Amdirlain followed his motion, the hoist pylons that had raised the stone plate in the first room were nowhere to be seen. It wasn’t their absence, but the additions that promoted her to pause. Four giant humanoid constructs some four metres tall formed an arc around the entryway; their bodies crackled with constantly moving ordered crystal bands that overlaid their mithril bodies. The constructs were completely smooth, without a seam or a joint in sight. Featureless and weaponless, their arms ended at flat plates that resembled the business end of an industrial pile driver. Fine runes were constantly in motion beneath the metal’s surface; invisible, if not for True Sight showing her their mana patterns. The motions and patterns of the runes pulled cords of Mana through the forms.
Analysis
[Mithril Golem
Species: Epic Construct
Class: Epic Construct
Level: 105
Health: 42,000
Defence: 500
Melee Attack Power: 715
Combat Skills: Slam [M](100), Stomp [M] (100), Punch [M](100) - Self Repair [M](1)
Details: Weighing close to thirty tons, these constructs are the work of combined teams of Artificers, Priests, and War Smiths, Dwarven Holding, through various Planes deploy them as Guardians. ]
They’d arrayed the Golems between the bottleneck of the gate and a wider defence barricade. Amdirlain followed Trinax warily, but the Golems didn’t react to her presence as she passed between them. Their path took them up a steep ramp to another row of barricades, where living guards watched and nodded to Trinax as they passed.
Beyond the second defensive line, the buildings were similar in styling to the outer wards, though these their walls, additional wards threaded the stone. The stone crawled with thicker wards than protected the walls of Eyrarháls. Metal pillars reached to the ceiling, their store of elemental energy connected via threads of energy woven into the wards.
The inner wards’ corridors were just as busy, with Dwarven crafters, troops, and many combinations moving about. Trinax finally paused outside a building carved in the likeness of rune etched gears. The noise from inside didn’t sound like a fine smithing workshop, but a foundry. When they entered, she’d found herself in an open plan workshop furnished with different forges, workbenches, walls covered in racked tools, all with dense runes set within; and every work spot was in use.
The Priestess flicked a glance up at their entry, but as Trinax started in her direction, she returned to her observations. As she looked the place over, she spotted Natsal next to a seated Dwarf hunched over a workbench facing their direction. The other Dwarf didn’t even bestir his attention from a familiar geode in front of him. They’d tucked their thick black beard down inside the front of their leather apron as they worked away, scraping the tip of a tiny hook between the crystals inside.
[Name: Master Artificer Norrax
Species: Mountain Dwarf
Class: Artificer / Alchemist
Level: 72 / 68
Health: 2,520
Defence: 158
Magic: 160
Mana: 49,280
Melee Attack Power: 85
Combat Skills: War Hammer [M](4)- Various Blessings & Runic Items
Details: Norrax, the youngest son of Raxlen, is the black sheep of the family, having pursued the path of Artificer instead of serving in the Royal Army.
]
Trinax brought them within arm’s reach of the bench before Norrax even looked up. A thick bulbous nose protruded from the sea of whiskers that started at the edge of his scarred, lidless eye sockets filled with liquid silver orbs. Runic patterns she’d seen across Trinax’s helm wiggled around inside the orbs’ interiors. Instead of the bushy eyebrows that every other Dwarf seemed to possess, his face, from his scarred hollow to his hairline was a mass of scar tissue. Yet despite the damage his face had suffered, his beard and hair were perfectly fine. The biggest disruption to his beard was the crease caused by the thin, dental pick-like tool he held clamped lengthways between his teeth.
“Who do you have there, Trinax?” Norrax mumbled around the handle.
“It’s Lady Amdirlain,” stated Natsal, beating Trinax in replying. “I told you her name when I presented you the geode.”
“Hush you, I didn’t need her name until she showed up,” grumped Norrax, having spat the tool to the workbench so he could speak freely. “Why should I bother paying attention to it before now? Crystals in this cracked, you should have been more careful.”
“It was an experiment in purification. I have more,”
“Unpurified?” Norrax questioned suspiciously, pausing in his examination.
“No, I purified all of them together, and the ore,” stated Amdirlain, gesturing at a lump that appeared to be the one she’d given Natsal.
“It doesn’t matter if you have more of these. The nature of materials contributes to the result, not just the raw materials. It’s the metaphysical condition of it: a hundred flawed crystals versus a hundred perfect crystals might possess just as much material. However, being flawed before the processing begins brings the aspect of the flawed state in with them. That’s fine for lesser works, not what I need to advance my craft.”
“Most of them didn’t crack,” Amdirlain advised, and Norrax furrowed his brow at her.
“Even if the crust is intact doesn’t mean the crystals stayed in one piece. I’ll have to open each to evaluate them properly,” huffed Norrax as he pried at a crystal.
“I didn’t want to bring them to the holding in a polluted state,” explained Amdirlain.
“Lay them out,” Norrax grunted, with a tilt of his head towards his workbench.
“What would you use the flawed crystals for?” enquired Amdirlain curiously.
“You’re not an apprentice of mine, Elf!” exclaimed Norrax as he brought his fist down on the workbench.
“Master Norrax!” objected Natsal, going wide-eyed at his tone. “Won’t they still be useful for anything?”
Amdirlain had to bite her tongue to let Natsal play diplomat.
“Don’t be silly, we’re Dwarves we can make use of any metal. I already said they’d be fine for lesser works,” rebuffed Norrax, as he turned his glare on Natsal. “I’ll still buy them. My journeymen can make use of them, I just won’t know the right value until I check them all.”
“Natsal, I’d hate to inconvenience Master Norrax by providing him with supplies,” Amdirlain said, as she turned to go. “You can still sell him that sample since he’s studied it.”
“There isn’t anyone that could make better use of them than me,” retorted Norrax, with another thump.
“That’s not my concern,” Amdirlain replied, stopping for a moment, she glanced back with a mischievous smile. “Perhaps you can buy the materials off them after they’ve assessed them. I’m sure they wouldn’t mark them up too much. Trinax, there are buildings with the same motif further down this passage I’ll try those.”
“The High Crafter said to show them to Master Norrax,” Natsal said.
“He’s had a look at them, and he’s an arse. He doesn’t need to look further,” Amdirlain replied and stepped back outside and waited for Trinax to catch up.
When her escort caught up, he glanced between her and the passage.
“Master Norrax isn’t one to forgive an insult to his pride,” warned Trinax, his tone low.
“My apologies if I caught you in the middle, Trinax. You can blame it on the darn Elf,” suggested Amdirlain with a shrug. “So, if Master Norrax is the premium Artificer here, who is second best.”
“Oh Master Norrax isn’t the best, though he’s one of the better ones. Master Pimnal, is the best Artificer, but very select about projects now her beard’s turning white,” replied Trinax, keeping his voice low.
“Please forgive my ignorance, but what the importance of her beard turning white?” asked Amdirlain, moving down the corridor towards the next gear motif building front.
“Not dealt with Dwarves, have you?” Trinax asked, his tone lightening.
“No, I’ve not had much direct experience,” said Amdirlain.
“A Dwarf whose beard is turning white only has a decade of life left, perhaps a trace more,” Trinax explained.
“So, inner district, anyone here is among the more skilled?” Amdirlain asked, gesturing down the passageway.
“Or their clan has the money to afford a spot in here,” responded Trinax.
“We should work our way along till we find someone doesn’t have their head up their own arse,” suggested Amdirlain, surprised when Trinax barked a loud laugh.
When she was away from Norrax’s shop, she paused and looked at him.
“Do you know any polite Artificer in the holding?”
“My younger sister is an Artificer; she only recently gained a workshop,” suggested Trinax hesitantly. “Most Master Artificer will chew up anyone’s beard.”
“Why don’t we go see her in that case,” Amdirlain proposed with an amused smile.
“Her workshop is in the outer district,” Trinax cautioned as he halted in the middle of the corridor.
“Because of skill or funds?” asked Amdirlain, with a glance at a passerby who gawked at her as they stepped around.
“A bit of both. She’s just recently moved out of her Master’s workshop and is getting her feet under her,” Trinax admitted. When Amdirlain smiled, he added. “She’ll likely not have the coin for much of your goods.”
“Since I’m not supposed to be in this area, let’s make things easier on everyone?” suggested Amdirlain.
“The High Crafter-” protested Trinax, and Amdirlain motioned to cut off his protest.
“Isn’t the boss of me,” Amdirlain interjected before she spun to head back. “I might arrange something with your sister. Does the High Crafter know she’s an Artificer?”
“Of course he does,” Trinax affirmed as he moved ahead of her.
* * *
Amdirlain glanced over the shopfront Trinax had led her to off the main corridors. The gear motif was in place, but it looked worn as if carved centuries ago. It had a considerably smaller frontage through its open front window; she could see a single forge and a short workbench across the front of the workshop. A black-bearded Dwarf dressed in sturdy leathers and an apron was unpacking a crate and tucking items away. As they slid a rack of glass vials under the workbench, Amdirlain considered their black braided hair and used Analysis.
Analysis
[Name: Jaixar Forgeshield
Class: Artificer / Alchemist
Level: 34 / 37
Health: 852
Magic: 91
Mana: 5,538
Defence: 58
Melee Attack Power: 50
Combat Skills: War Hammer [Ad] (1)
Details: Jaixar, daughter of Xarpel, graduated as a Journeyman in both Artificer and Alchemist at the earliest age allowed by the respective guilds.
]
“Trinax, I thought you couldn’t come by when on duty?” Jaixar asked, her gaze narrowing at the sight of him.
“I brought you a traveller with materials,” Trinax stated.
Jaixar gave a sharp laugh and slapped the workbench for a moment before shaking her head.
“So how did you convince miss Elf there to play this game?” asked Jaixar sharply. “There is no way either the militia or the High Crafter would send anything my way.”
“Why is that?” Amdirlain interrupted, as Trinax tried to explain.
“I’m the newest Journeyman in the holding, everyone rates higher than me to have work directed to them,” replied Jaixar, amusement crinkling her gaze.
“I enjoy making my own choices and I didn’t like the Master they sent me to,” explained Amdirlain.
“Masters don’t have manners, they just have orders,” Jaixar stated with another sharp laugh.
“You’re an Alchemist and an Artificer?” Amdirlain asked bluntly, hoping to cut to the chase.
“Did Trinax go talking about me?” enquired Jaixar, glancing suspiciously at Trinax.
“I’m good at determining those details without hints. I have reagents and materials I need to sell,” stated Amdirlain.
Jaixar expression soured as she motioned to the disorganised workshop.
“I’ve got most of my coin tied up in this workshop and gear. Until I get paid work, I won’t be able to buy much but the most basic materials. If they directed you to a Master first, it’s doubtful whatever you’re looking to sell wil be usable by me, let alone something I can afford,” declared Jaixar, her amusement having vanished.
“What sort of materials could you make use of?” Amdirlain asked, without hesitation having considered her options on the way here.
“Some gemstones, metals from copper through to high steel, are what I’ve normally used. I know how to process mithril, and assess higher grade materials, but I’ve not worked with them,” answered Jaixar.
“How about I hire you to assess some adamantine and sort out selling it for me?”
Even as she asked, Amdirlain set a geode on the workbench, and Jaixar went quiet as she picked it up.
“It’s purified of energies using Order, and Celestial Mana, but it comes from the Abyss originally. Master Norrax was rather rude about having flawed too many crystals by purifying them.”
“He’s famous even in Stoneheart for taking the condition of deliveries personally,” dismissed Jaixar. “So, what sort of arrangement were you thinking of?”
“You get a twenty percent share of whatever you sell after you assess and separate them,” offered Amdirlain. “Just ensure you haggle with them hard, especially if Norrax tries to buy any.”
“This looks pretty roughly mined. Some crystals might have broken even before you purified it,” Jaixar suggested, as she turned the geode over, carefully examining it. “It looks like something just hammered away at the rock until it came free.”
“Perhaps you can give me some mining advice as part of the arrangement,” suggested Amdirlain as she suppressed the urge to rub her face.
“How many of these do you have?” Jaixar asked, holding it carefully.
“One hundred and eight, plus some ore,” replied Amdirlain causally a smile twitched across her lips when Jaixar went bugged eyed in shock.
“That’s going to take me ages to separate out the crystals,” cautioned Jaixar.
“Handle them one geode at a time, and sell them as you go,” proposed Amdirlain, setting some ore on the bench near where she’d placed the geode.
“Will you be staying around?” enquired Jaixar nervously, setting the geode back on the workbench. “I’m not sure I’d want to take that many at once. I don’t think I’d ever earn enough to repay you.”
Amdirlain considered her option as Jaixar picked up a chunk of ore and rolled it in her fingers.
“I could drop by each morning, provide how much you think you can handle that day,” suggested Amdirlain. She was about to ask Trinax about boarding rooms before a thought stopped her. “Does your workshop have a spare room for an apprentice to sleep? If so, I’ll hire it from you by gathering materials for your work. I’d appreciate somewhere quiet and secure to meditate. If I get on your nerves, I can find a boarding house instead.”
“Deal,” agreed Jaixar, and stuck out her hand so fast her brother couldn’t object before they sealed the deal.
Torm wanted me to take a break from the Abyss.
