Weaponsmith - Chapter 38 (Patreon)

Hineni exhales, watching the vapors of his breath leave his mouth as he climbs down the ladder into the ice-cellar. There is a dull thunking as his boots strike against the ice-coated steps, the sound of which echoes around the frozen basement like a dying heartbeat.

(???) has start channeling [Fairy’s Chime]{Ice} (3 seconds)

Hineni sighs, staring at the combat menu that has appeared. He had expected as much to happen. The man lifts a hand, watching as a glow begins to collect in a bundle of ice, hanging from the ceiling. The magical aura of a spell being charged condenses into a needle-point at the tip of a small finger that he can’t see.

(Hineni) uses [Smolder]{Ash}

- Channeling [Fairy’s Chime]{Ice}disrupted

Something yelps, the condensing, icy aura dissipates in an instant as a small creature stops the door-frame of its ‘house’ from melting.

“Sorry about that,” says Hineni, looking at the swearing blur.

“Get out of my basement!” yells the fairy at him.

Hineni shakes his head, lifting his hands. “It’s my basement. I own this house,” says the man. “Just like my parents did before me.”

“You’re a fuck-up!” yells the fairy at him. “You can’t handle having a house. I’m not going to die because of you a second time!” it barks.

Hineni nods. That’s fair. He assumes that he would be mad too if someone had killed him before as well. He looks around the room, staring at the ice that fills the cellar. But it’s not just ice, there are all sorts of things stuck in it.

Old pieces of fruit, some berries, some meat, some bottles and all manner of sealed, glass containers, some of which have been opened. He assumes that this old, frozen food is what the fairy has been nourishing itself with, ever since its rebirth.

“Listen,” says Hineni. “Can I ask you something?”

“No! Go away!”

The man sighs and lifts his hands. “It’s not worth much, I know. But I’m sorry that you died because of me,” he apologizes. The blob stands in the door of the hanging ice, that is suspended above the room like an empty bee-hive. Then, a moment later, it moves inside and out of his sight. “I never knew that you were here.”

He stares for a while, not sure if he’s going to get a response. It doesn’t look like it.

“Anyways. I just wanted to bring you this,” he says, pulling out a small bundle full of sweets he had purchased, out of the sight of Rhine who he is sure would have tried to get a few of them if he had known of their existence. He had a question for the fairy, but it’s probably best to just forget it for now. “I read in the library that fairies like things like this.” He sets it down and then stares for a second around the dark room, nodding to himself.

Hineni supposes that that’s it already.

“Feel free to come up, if you ever want to,” says the man. “We’d like to get to know you.” With that, he turns around and goes back towards the ladder. Everything in its due time. Fairies are difficult creatures by nature, according to Sockel. They have slight tendencies towards aggression, rudeness and possessiveness.

“She was my friend, you know?” asks the voice from behind him. Hineni, with a hand on the ladder, turns his gaze around to stare at the empty doorway of the hive that nothing stands in.

The faintest waft of water-lily reaches him from some impossible draft, which is perhaps really only present in his own mind.

Hineni nods towards the hive. “She was mine too. I’m sorry,” is all that he has to reply with, as he sets a boot back onto the ladder.

*+~-__________________________________________________________-~+*

Hineni is up in his parents’ old bedroom, staring down through the trap-door, at the markings on the wall.

“Yeah, looks like it,” says Rhine. “See?” he notes, holding the book out towards Hineni. The man nods, reading over the page that Rhine is pointing to.

The markings there are fairy writing. There isn’t really a good way to translate it, as fairy markings are very much dependent on each specific region, but far more so than with humans. While the cultures of the ‘normal’ races have all been homogenized to a sense, given their habitation of larger stretches of land, fairies are all still very much tribal. There could in theory be dozens of different fairy tribes in one city, each of which having their own particular set of markings and scribbles.

But fairies are rare outside of the south, though they are becoming more and more commonly in the temples of the gods or places with high magical potencies even here. He never knew that they had one here, in his own home, however.

Though it makes sense. An adventurer’s guild like their old one had hundreds of people moving in and out of it all day. That’s a lot of flowing energy, it’s a perfect home for a fairy.

And then he figuratively burnt that down. It’s no wonder that the creature is mad at him. Ignoring the fact that it apparently knew his mother.

But what he doesn’t understand is his father’s reaction to his mother’s sighting of the fairy. If she could really see it, if they were really friends, like the fairy claimed. Then why did his mother have such fits and panic attacks about these creatures? Why would his father tell him that none of it was real? That his mother is just ill?

He had hoped to find some answers in these markings, but he can’t read them, so it’s a fool’s errand.

A growl of an empty stomach breaks the silence. Hineni turns towards Rhine who clears his throat and stands up a little straighter.

Hineni shuts the trap-door. Here he is, busy digging around in the past, when there is work to do for the present. There are empty wallets and stomachs here and now and most importantly, there is an empty guild downstairs that needs to be filled.

“Rhine. Let’s get to work,” says Hineni.

“What’re we making today?” asks Rhine, walking after him as they go back downstairs.

Hineni thinks for a while, not having an answer as they go towards the forge. They arrive downstairs, in the restaurant. “Sockel,” he asks, looking at the elf who is sitting at the table with Obscura. For some reason they’re having an arm-wrestling contest, but Hineni decides not to bother thinking about how they ended up like that. “Outside of daggers and wands, what’s in demand these days?”

“Uh…”

“Obscura!” hoots the owl-god, turning towards Hineni. “The people demand more Ob~ Scu~ Ra~!” Her arm budges as Sockel takes her chance. Obscura hoots angrily, hissing at the elf as she presses her arm back. They seem pretty decently matched, actually.

“Arrows,” says Sockel, turning her gaze back to the owl-goddess. “You got the close-combatants and the caster covered, but you’re missing stuff for the archers.”

Hineni hits his fist into his open palm, turning towards the forge to leave the two of them to their duel of fates. Of course, that’s a great idea! “Thanks, Sockel.”

Obscura hoots angrily, turning back and leaning out around the booth. “Hineni seeks the sock-elf’s wisdom, but not wise, beautiful Obscura’s!” she protests.

The man stands there for a second, considering her protest. It’s a fair point. She’s a literal god, after all. He really should try to get her insight on more things. He nods. “Okay, you’re right,” relents the man. “What do you think we should make?”

The two of them stare at each other for a moment. “WHO~!” she hoots and vanishes in an explosion of feathers.

Hineni blinks, staring at Sockel who is sitting there with an empty hand, a few feathers stuck to her face. The man shrugs. Arrows it is.

“Let’s get to work, Rhine.”

“Okay,” says the boy. “Is the owl-god going to be mad at us?”

Hineni shrugs and walks towards the forge. Who really knows what she’s thinking?

*+~-__________________________________________________________-~+*

Arrows, huh?

“I’ve never made arrows before,” says Hineni, looking around the forge. Rhine’s sketching work for the kiln is strewn out over the table. Arrowheads seem like small, finicky things to make well out of metal. Maybe this is a job for Rhine’s molds?

Hineni nods, turning to tell Rhine to get started on making molds for arrowheads.

But the boy is already on the other side of the forge, grabbing a handful of clay out of the barrel.

The man stands there, impressed. Hineni makes a note to pay him when they get some money. Actually, he has to pay Sockel too, soon.

He sighs, having people around is really expensive.

*+~-__________________________________________________________-~+*

The first arrowhead is going to be pretty simple in it’s design. Good, old-fashioned iron has never done him wrong. Hineni decides to make the first one out of that.

To start with, he breaks off a small cube of material from some left-over iron from a previous project. Then, he begins to file that per hand, getting rid of some of the excess. Nodding to himself, he sets it down onto the anvil and lifts his hands.

No point in mucking about with this all day.

(Hineni) uses: [Weaponsmith: Arrowhead]

The small chunk of metal starts to glow, rising off of the anvil and then, a moment later, it falls back down, shaped into a pretty decent arrowhead.

- [Iron Arrowhead] -

Quality

(Normal)

 Composition

• Iron: 89%
• Silicia: 2%
• Alumina: 5%
• Calcium: 2%
• Magnesium: 1%
• Impurities: 1%

Quality Effects: None

A small, but heavy arrowhead with a keen point and hooked barbs.

 ‘Made by Weaponsmith Hineni - Chosen of the Owl-God’

Weight: 0.35kg

Value: 000 Obols

Now there’s the matter of the shafts and the feathers. But one thing at a time. “Rhine,” asks Hineni. “How’s the mold?”

“Ready!” says Rhine proudly. “I just need the arrowhead,” he says, coming over to get it. Hineni nods, watching him work. It takes a few minutes, but eventually the mold, one large sheet of clay, is stamped with the arrowhead. “We can only make half and half like this, until we make the kiln,” says Rhine. “But we can just glue two halves together for now into one arrowhead.”

Hineni thinks about it and then nods.

He could just use his spell a few times to do so, but that’s a draining process and not an economical way to run a business. He’ll be out of energy by the time they finish one batch of arrows.

“Let’s melt the metal. We’ll go into town to find some feathers and some wood for shafts,” says Hineni.

“Okay!” says Rhine. “I bet we can find feathers by the river though,” he suggests, as if it were obvious. “There are a bunch of birds by the river, so there are feathers everywhere.”

“Even in winter?” asks Hineni.

“No, the birds are gone, but the feathers are still there.”

Hineni wants to sigh and shake his head and tell Rhine that’s stupid. But at this point, he knows that even if he does say anything, that he’ll be proven wrong by the universe. So he just agrees and decides to be glad that the boy is so useful. “Good idea, Rhine.”

*+~-__________________________________________________________-~+*

Hineni exhales, watching the vapors of his breath leave his mouth as he climbs down the ladder into the ice-cellar. There is a dull thunking as his boots strike against the ice-coated steps, the sound of which echoes around the frozen basement like dying heartbeat.

No spell comes his way this time and also no swears or curses.

The man steps down into the basement for the third time.

“Hey, are you here?” he asks, looking around the cold basement.

He receives no response. But given the buzz of what he assumes are wings, striking against ice, that the fairy is here. “I just wanted to give you a head’s up,” says Hineni. “We’re cleaning through the kitchen today. There’s some frog’s blood still. So it’s going to be loud for a while.”

No response.

Shrugging, he turns and heads back to the ladder, noticing that the bag of candy that he had left here is gone.

“Eilig,” says the voice. “My name is Eilig.”

Hineni looks over his shoulder, watching as a blob moves his way. It hovers there for a moment, before extending something out that he can only silently hope is hand. The man lifts his own, gently grasping its between his thumb and his finger.

“I’m looking forward to working with you, Eilig,” says Hineni.

The fairy grumbles. “Yeah. Just don’t make a mess in my basement, okay? It took me days to get rid of all that ash.”

Hineni nods. “I’ll do my best.”

[{5} Members]

[CULT(Mysterious)]{2}