Weaponsmith - Chapter 33 (Patreon)

Hineni sits at the table, his hands folded in front of himself as he stares downward. A small, tawny owl is sitting behind him on the back-rest of the bench, affectionately pulling on the strands of his hair and flapping her wings as she tries to keep her balance.

Both Obscura and Rhine are okay.

It turns out that during his checking of the heating system, Rhine had fallen down a shaft, lured in by the fairy who was mimicking Hineni’s voice to draw him towards a drop.

Obscura, having noticed something was amiss, had flown in after him and grabbed him right as the fairy sprung its trap, apparently interested in keeping them frozen there forever, essentially. So that the people in this house, the sources of the house’s regrowing ambient magic which keeps the fairy alive, would never vanish again.

The thing that was blocking the shaft was ice, growing up from the ice-cellar.

“- That’s why your idea is stupid,” says Hineni, getting right to the point. The jar in front of him shakes and rattles, an invisible creature hammering against the glass. “They would have lasted a few days at best,” says Hineni. “Before they froze to death or starved.”

“It’s magical ice!” argues the sharp voice from the jar. “It would have kept them as is!”

Sockel sits across from him, her chin resting on the table as she stares at the vague blob of moving air in the glass and stares in fascination. Rhine too, but from the open side of the table.

“Sockel,” says Hineni. “What am I supposed to do with this?” he asks.

“Hmm…” She ponders for a moment. “Why not make a deal?” she asks. “Having ice in the cellar would be great for business,” says the elf, her ear twitching. “Especially if we go down the restaurant route.”

“You can’t have my magic!” yells the fairy.

“It tried to kill us,” says Hineni, shaking his head. He’s killed four frogs already. Perhaps if he had done so the first time he was captured, the second time would have never come to pass? Perhaps this is a problem that just… needs to be dealt with now? Right from the start.

Something pulls on his hair and hoots.

Sockel rolls her eyes, though he isn’t sure at who. “You licked it. It’ll behave now,” she says, poking the jar. Something strikes against it. “As much as a fairy can, at least. Besides -” The elf leans down, pressing her face to the glass. “The more that it helps us, the more people will come here regularly. It’s a win-win. A deal.”

Hineni looks at the elf, not really understanding. Obscura pulls on his hair again and he turns to her. “Little fairies are like big Obscura,” she says. “Many followers, mighty Obscura. Few followers…” She stops for a moment, thinking. “- Mighty Obscura!”

“Don’t you mean ‘few followers, weak Obscura’?” asks Rhine.

“WHO~!” she hoots at him, flapping her wings angrily. Rhine yelps fearfully and ducks away.

Hineni sighs and thinks for a moment. Apparently fairies work on the same basis as deities. Gods are dependent on their worshipers or on people giving them their magic by using their crafted equipment. Fairies are literally kept alive by the ambient magic in a place and more of that is present, the more people, especially powerful people, have gathered.

Assuming one isn’t in a natural, wild-magic area, like much of the south is.

“How did it do the voices thing?” asks Hineni.

Sockel shrugs. “Like I told you, fairies are natural trouble-makers.” She presses a finger against the jar. “They’re all jerks and they’re all unusually gifted at being jerks.”

“Huh…” Hineni stares for a while. “So what’s the licking thing about?”

Sockel shrugs. “Imagine if some big orc came up to you and just licked your face. You’d be scared too.”

Hineni sighs. He had assumed that this was some weird, magical act that somehow makes sense in the context of the species. Turns out he’s just a weirdo who licks fairies against their will now too. One more thing for the list.

The man ponders for a while, staring around at the people around him, before his gaze falls back to the jar. “You’re allowed to stay in the ice-cellar,” he says. A finger of his taps against the table. “On the conditions that we get to use your ice when we need it.” His finger taps against the table again. “That you don’t try anything like that again.” His finger taps against the table a third time. “And that you keep your ice out of the heating system.”

“No!” argue the fairy. “Just get frozen and deal with it!” it argues. Ice grows around the inside of the jar, the glass starting to crack. The jar shatters. Hineni’s hand shoots out, grabbing the thing before it can escape and he pulls down his scarf, licking it again. “EUGH!” it cries in disgust. He can feel it shaking its arms off.

Hineni stares at the odd blob. “Next time, I’m biting,” he says.

“You wouldn’t!”

“You’re probably crunchier than a frog,” notes Hineni, considering it for a moment. He turns to Obscura. She nods. “Well?” asks the man, looking back to the fairy.

“Fine!” it relents. “I accept. Sheesh!”

Hineni nods to it, setting it down onto the table. “I look forward to working with you.” He extends his hand out. Though he isn’t quite sure how the fairy is supposed to react to his offer of a handshake, given its size.

“Stay out of my cellar!” yells the fairy, swiping his finger away. The odd blob rises up into the air.

“It’s my house,” replies Hineni, shaking his head. “We’ve just been over this.”

“It’s my basement!”

The man sighs. “It really isn’t.”

All he hears in response is an indignant ‘hmpf’ as the fairy apparently lifts its nose and flies off. The hatch to the ice-cellar slams shut a moment later.

“Well… that happened,” says Rhine. The room is quiet for a moment. “How come it didn’t have a body?” asks the boy, thinking.

Sockel gets up too. “Oh, it did. They look like small people. We just can’t see it,” she explains. “Only people with special eyes can see fairies.”

Hineni looks at her for a moment, before turning back to the kitchen.

Something nuzzles itself against his cheek and his sight is blocked by the fluff of an owl.

_______________________________________________________________

“Iron?” asks Rhine.

“Seventeen,” says Hineni. Rhine nods, running after him with a notepad and a pen in hand, scribbling something down.

Hineni walks over to his stack of copper bars, counting how many are left. “Six.”

Rhine nods, scribbling down.

“Aluminum…” Hineni lifts up an old, empty sack. “We’re out.”

“Steel?” asks Rhine.

Hineni shakes his head. “None. We only had the one bar you brought me.”

“Wood?” asks Rhine.

Hineni looks over to the pile. “About two days worth if we keep heating like this.” He thinks for a moment. They don’t have much choice though. Now that the heat is uniformly spreading throughout the building, the temperature in general across  the entire house has dropped since the fire has to heat up the whole building at once now. Add to that the broken window in the restaurant that is just leaking heat and it’s a losing battle. The window is problem number one.

“Why not use charcoal?” asks Rhine. “It burns hotter than fresh wood and it’ll last longer.

Hineni blinks. Charcoal…? The man lowers his head, thinking for a moment. “That’s a good idea, Rhine,” he says, looking at the boy. Given his background, he’s likely been to a very high-ranking school. The boy is probably clever, despite his pride and lack of foresight, it might be worth listening to him. The education at the orphanage was minimal, to put in mildly. “But I don’t know where to get any. Besides, we’re broke.”

Rhine nods. “I think I saw a book in the library on it,” he mentions. “We can make it ourselves, I think?” ponders the boy. “Should I look into it?”

Hineni blinks, somewhat surprised at Rhine. The boy always has some very good ideas that honestly, he’s a little ashamed of for not having thought of himself. But maybe that’s what having a team is about, you fill in the gaps that the others leave open.

“I’m glad to have you here, Rhine,” nods Hineni, nodding to the boy who sets aglow at the praise, standing a little taller.

“Gold?” asks Rhine, going over the next item on the list.

“I wish,” sighs Hineni, shaking his head as they continue their inventory.

_______________________________________________________________

Hineni pushes a sheet of plywood up, covering the broken glass of the window with it. It’s ugly and certainly not ideal, but it’ll have to do until they get another five-hundred Obols together to hire the glass-worker again to fix it.

Hineni rubs his forehead in the inside of his elbow before he starts fastening to the board to the wall with some nails.

Once this is done, his next task is to make some daggers. He still has iron and daggers are easy to sell and cheap to make. He might not have Beni, but he can still hawk them to the adventurers outside of the dungeon by himself.

This is something he isn’t looking forward to doing, in all honesty. His deal with the frog, Beni, was comfortable. He didn’t have to talk to anyone, he didn’t have to do anything, to challenge himself.

Hineni stands there, staring at the sealed up window as that last thought goes through his head.

It was a frog-deception.

The deal Beni offered him was too good, too comfortable. It was like it was tailored to the odd, socially anxious mess that he was. It lulled him into a sense of security. It kept him from growing.

Hineni nods to himself. Today, he’s going to make three daggers and he’s going to go outside and sell them himself to adventurers in the street.

He needs to grow more. He needs to keep the frogs on their toes.

_______________________________________________________________

Obscura hoots into his ear as he works in the forge, hammering away. “Hineni has worked hard for Obscura, yes?” she asks, standing on his head in the form of a small owl. “She feels new power. Many hands hold Obscura’s gifts, many talons grow from Obscura’s feet!” she hoots.

Hineni blinks, lifting a hand to feel the normal amount of talons on his head. He assumes that was just a metaphor for her growing power. While she was gone, he had made a not-insignificant amount of weapons and given them away for free. That had given her a boost of power, he isn’t sure how much exactly, but it had to be something.

After all, she was able to use a spell against Beni that she clearly couldn’t use before.

“Her Hineni is strong! Hard-worker, yes? Yes!” hoots the owl, very pleased. “Hineni is strong, good husband! They will have many mighty, powerful young.”

Hineni clears his throat, trying to focus on his work. “They will be wise and majestic like Ob~ scu~ ra!” she hoots. “And diligent like Hineni!”

The thought, while flattering in a way that he can’t really express in coherent thoughts, is a happy one. But at the same time, terrifying.

Kids?

Sure, they’re getting married one day and sure, they’ve already ‘spoken’ about it, for a lack of a cleaner word. But the thought of that terrifies him. He already has so many mouths to feed, so many bodies to keep warm and dry. They’re barely hanging on as is.

But it sounds like a future he wants nonetheless. So maybe, he’ll just have to work harder, to get to a place where such a thing is not only feasible, but also realistic.

The hammer strikes against the blade of the iron again.

“Left,” hoots Obscura.

Hineni makes an adjust, hitting a small spot on the left of the blade that he didn’t see before.

_______________________________________________________________

“One-hundred twenty-three Obols,” says Hineni, holding the dagger out to the adventuring party he had stopped on their way to the dungeon. They’re a familiar group, they don’t know him, but he knows them. It’s one of the groups of people he had watched walking past his window every day for months. He knows the way they walk, the way they talk, he knows a lot about them. Perhaps more than is socially healthy for a stranger to do.

The dark-elf whistles. “That’s a lot…” she says, looking at the rest of her group who seems to be thinking about it too.

“It’s a good upgrade though,” notes the party-leader of the group. A man with Hineni’s height and build, wearing a suit of low-level metal armor that is barely holding together. Hineni nods, understanding their dilemma. But he has a sale to make. “You’d have some backup elemental damage when you’re out of soul-points,” he says, looking at the pair of awkwardly laughing casters of the group. He happens to know that those two like to burn through their soul-points early and fast, meaning this group has trouble getting deeper into the dungeon because of their bad habits. They’re a healer and a sorceress of some kind.

He lifts the dagger up, tapping the stat. “Plus with the owl-god’s own stat, you’ll have a better chance of finding new items while remaining undetected,” he explains, showing the status window for ‘obscurantism’ to them. “It’s a perfect weapon for a stealth-type in a loot-hungry group.”

He doesn’t know if that last part is true. It might be a lie, honestly. But since the stat allows one to see things that others don’t better, he feels like it’s a fair assumption to make that one might have better luck in finding odd trinkets and baubles that others miss.

“I dunno…” says the party-leader.

Hineni nods. The man is the leader of the party, but he’s also a bit of a tight-wad. Which is fair, considering the neighborhood and everyone’s situation. One-hundred twenty-three Obols is a lot of money to ask for from a group like this. Perhaps it’s even their entire reserve of money. He points at the man’s loose armor. “Come by the guild and I’ll throw in an emergency repair for that armor too,” says Hineni.

The man is sold immediately. Hineni is sure that he thinks that it’s a steal. But in reality, he is the one who has pulled one over on them. The man’s armor is iron and the damage isn’t as dramatic as it looks. It just needs a few straps tightened and one iron bar in materials and it’ll be good as new. It’s an hour of work. Even with it included ‘for free’ Hineni is still making more money off of this sale than he would have with Beni.

(Hineni) has sold [Iron Dagger]{Gift of the Owl-God}(Normal) for [{123} Obols] !

Hineni smiles to himself, heading off to the next group of people with well over a hundred new Obols in his pocket that weren’t there before. Maybe all of that people watching is going to pay off after all?

“Hey!” he calls, waving over to an orc he has seen a hundred times before. “You interested in a new weapon?” he asks.

He happens to know that she breaks hers a lot.

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33 is a good chapter. Who~ (°V°)

You'll be getting two extra chapters tomorrow!