necariin
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Chapter 427
🕑 Added 2022-04-22 12:00:06 +0000 UTCEnjoy!
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"Harn!"
A solid kick bashed open the stout, metal-clad door, sending it crashing into the wall. A slight figure lurched out of the gathering gloom, her grunts of effort barely heard over the roar of the storm. Stepping into the dim light of the smithy, Evie held tight to a length of crimson cloth she'd bundled over her shoulder. "Harn, get your ass out here and help me!"
"Mfah," said the battered stack of metal plates connected to the red cloth—a cloak. "Mmrah!"
Evie kicked backward with easy grace, catching the concussed warrior in the temple. "Go back to sleep." The cloak dragged even harder at her shoulder, but at least it was still. A rhythmic ringing sounded from further within—the sound of a hammer on an anvil. "Harn? You there?"
The smithy on the old bald bastard's estate wasn't small, but still not so large that finding it had been easy. The grounds of the former Grandmaster's former home were easily of a size with the Temple of Elemental Fire, and that place had been a damned maze. She'd found the forge in the sideways rain while dragging a bleeding Paladin behind her, and all because the stupid idiot had gone and started bleeding out...and Evie had run out of Healing Potions.
"Harn? You have any spare potions? This murdering dolt wouldn't stop with his fire sword, so I had to perforate his lungs a bit. Dunno if he'll last the trip to Isla." Evie dropped the cloak, and the Paladin's armored legs hit the ground with a dull thunk. "Stop foolin' around and come out here—"
Evie's foot hit something hard, and it slid across the floor. A mace? The entrance to the smithy was a showroom, housing a number of weapons mounted on the walls between the dim Mana lamps—but those were all fancy pieces. Jewels and inscriptions covered them, and more than a few were in warded glass cases. But the floor and low furniture in the showroom, where folks would expect to have a sit or laydown as they tried out their purchases, those were covered in weapons. Swords and maces and spears of all size and shapes were leaned against walls and couches and counters, each of them hammered out of what appeared to be standard steel.
"Where is everyone? And why are the lights out?" Evie picked her way over the weapons. All of them were unfinished, without leather or wood or bone strapped to their handles or hilts. As if Harn had smithed them all and just...tossed them to the ground. The hammering kept going, uninterrupted.
Beyond the circular expanse of the showroom was a thick counter where clerks would no doubt have stood to take her measurements and orders. Now it was empty and dark, like a drunk's smile. Most of the staff had fled the Grandmaster's estate, barely grabbing what they needed and fleeing into the city. Apparently a great many were Oathbound to serve, and that compulsion faded with the gray mage's death—it was part of how they knew the bald fuck had perished before Pit and that Minotaur had come to confirm it. Now the smithy and lots of other parts of the estate were empty...but a flickering light and steady hammering emanated from the back rooms.
Evie slid over the counter with perfect, feline grace. Her Body had grown by leaps and bounds since Felix and his...whatever he'd done. Fighting felt easier than ever. So much so that she'd been chasing down the feeling for almost two days, getting her chain soaked in crimson zealot. She hadn't thought of Harn, of the dangers he might face here when she'd been out.
The back of the counter was a wall filled with more of those special weapons, even a suit of full on platemail decked out in gold filigree. At the center, where the firelight ebbed and flowed, was a thick door. Wide open. Evie stepped through, hand at her waist, and ice Mana almost boiling out of her palms. C'mon Harn. What's goin' on here?
Through the door was a short passage, barely thirty strides long by eight wide, yet it too was filled with unfinished blades, hammers, and axes. A lot of axes, actually. There were three doors, one to the right and at the very end, but those were closed. It was the one on the left, the extra wide threshold that glowed with yellow-orange light, as if the Highest Flame had come again. Through it, Evie could feel an incredible wash of heat and noise, that steady hammering louder than ever. Through it, she could see Harn.
"Noctis' tits."
The man stood over a massive anvil made of dark brown crystal, silhouetted by the blazing forge behind him. Implements and tools hung from every available surface, including racks above and around him, and more weapons littered the edges of the chamber. Harn was bringing a dark metal hammer down atop a piece of glowing steel, sparks and bits of char flying as it impacted. It was a...shovel? No. No, Evie recognized it from all the near-identical versions around her. It was an axe.
"Harn, if you wanted me not to interrupt, you could've hung a sign or somethin'," she said over the din. The man didn't look up, didn't react to her voice. He just kept turning and flipping the steel, his hammer falling steady as a heartbeat. With every strike a pulse of bright silvery Mana surged from Harn's tool and into the unfinished axe. Slam and press. Strike and fold. Mana massaged into the metal itself, but also...something else. An earthy scent lingered around Harn, but it was something Evie could hear. A deep noise that sounded like old water and heated dust, the smelled of violence and a baffling weariness. Harn's body was slick with sweat, his tunic stained, and his dark hair dripped over his vacant eyes. He hunched and brought down the hammer, rotating, flipping, working the metal. Never stopping.
"You're scaring me, you ugly bastard. Stop it!" Evie had finally crossed the distance—she was done with this spooky shit. She reached out a hand for his shoulder...but another pale hand grabbed her wrist. "Hey!"
"Don't." The owner of the hand stepped clear of some debris that had blocked Evie's sight, fully illuminated by the forge light. She was a short woman, Human but built almost like a Dwarf; all curves and thick arms. It was Palin, the tavernkeep, and her grip was as steely as her gaze. "He's almost broken through."
Evie's eyes widened in realization, and in doing so she finally parsed the heavy, basso song that thrummed across her friend's broad shoulders. It rose in peaks and dropped into valleys in time with each shaping blow, caused by or perhaps causing the intense, mindless focus that had consumed the man. "He's Tempering?"
Palin nodded, and for some reason she looked proud. And tired, covered in grease and several bandages herself. "Into Adept at last."
Evie was more than strong enough to contest the tavernkeep, but she let herself be led out of the forge. They crossed the corridor and entered the chamber on the right-hand side, which turned out to be a set of living quarters. Presumably for the prior, Oathbound smith. It was a homey little set up and, once the door shut behind them, far quieter. The remnants of the previous occupants were obvious, with supplies and personal effects scattered all around. Some effort had been made to clean it all up, but there was such an abundance of stuff that it made little difference. A smallish bed was there, tucked against the back of the utilitarian space, and a finely crafted table and chairs stood in a dining area off from a small but functional kitchen...but most of the open chamber was overflowing with crafting materials. Stacks of ore gleamed in the lamplight, beside sealed barrels filled with unknown substances. Evie shoved at one, letting the four foot cask wobble and slosh. Something liquid. Mabye oil? Smiths use oil, right?
"Excuse the mess. We've only been here a day, and most of that has been dealing with Harn's...issues," Palin said. She busied herself clearing off one of the handsomely crafted wooden chairs, lifting stacks of bone and Mana crystal in both hands. "My muar and tuar were helping me earlier, but they're all of them Untempered, and it's been a long day."
"Moo'er and too'er? What's that?" Evie asked, eyeing the proffered chair but not sitting. "And where are those Dwarves you work with?"
Palin smirked. "Muar and tuar is Dwarvish for, well, the closest approximation in the common tongue is 'uncle' and 'aunt.' They are my Dwarven workers, but they're also family."
"Oh," Evie said, feeling a little foolish. That had never stopped her before, though. "You look Dwarvish. That makes sense."
This time the woman laughed, but it was a little bitter. "Ask my Dwarven relatives that. They say I'm too Human."
Evie wasn't so dumb as to chase that conversation down. So instead she focused on easier topics. "They're stayin' nearby? Your aunts and uncles."
"Close enough to help, but far enough to stay out of the way. After all the excitement, being held prisoner, almost being sacrificed, they've had their fill of adventure for quite a while." Palin shook her head. "None of them ever had a head for this lifestyle, only my muar Tevuk even left to become an adventurer. Said he joined the Protector's Guild and everything, up in Hekail."
Evie frown at the mention of the Guild. Another topic she'd rather not linger on. "How long's Harn been like that? And why's he makin' things?"
Palin sat in the cleared chair with a soft groan and massaged her thighs. "I don't know. Never heard of a Tempering like his, but he just said 'I need the forge,' and 'give me metal.' That's all before he sucked down those Essence Draughts and started hammering away. Since then I've been making sure he has metal to hand, and also clearing out the weapons he keeps churning out. It's been an exhausting day."
"He always liked smithin', I guess," Evie said after a moment.
"More than likes it. The man won't shut up about it. Only thing he talked about more than smithing was, well, you," Palin said.
Evie grunted in surprise. "Me? What for?"
The tavernkeep looked at her like she was daft. "He—you can't be surprised to know that he loves you like his own, right? The whole trip across the desert he kept going on about your accomplishments. About how you fought some monster named DuFont and saved him from some sort of living armor? Honestly some of it seemed quite far-fetched, but then that's why I'm no adventurer."
"Huh," Evie said, turning the idea of it over in her Mind. "He said all that to you?"
Palin smiled, wide and soft, like she was remembering something. "He say a lot." The tavernkeep's smile faded when Evie grunted again. "What?"
"So you two...you're a thing now, eh?" Evie asked. She narrowed her eyes at the tavernkeep, watching her as the woman's face sagged open in surprise. "Oh don't bother denyin' it. Harn doesn't talk to people. Like ever. Maybe, if he likes you and thinks you might be useful, he'll give some advice or tell you if a boulder is gonna crush your head. But 'chat'?" Evie laughed. "No."
Palin stuttered a second longer before she focused on smoothing her skirts around her crossed knees. "Well, he intended on telling you himself. After. But yes. We have been...I suppose courting is the closest word. There isn't truly a phrase for 'spending time while fleeing from an undead army' is there?"
Evie snorted. "No, don't suppose there is." She stepped closer to the tavernkeep. "I'm happy for you, whatever you want to call it."
"Thank yo—" Palin started to say, but cut off as a span-length spike of ice pressed a finger-breadth away from her eye.
Evie stared down at her and held the Ice Spike close. "If you hurt him, I will bring such terror onto you that your Dwarvish ancestors will pull their mountains down on themselves, just to get away from me." She leaned her face down, until only the Ice Spike separated their gazes. "Understand me?"
The tavernkeep, though, she gave glare for glare. "I don't plan on it, girlie. But if you put that in my face ever again, I'll box your fool ears."
Palin held Evie's gaze for several long heartbeats...until Evie dropped her Ice Spike completely. With a laugh, she slapped the tavernkeep hard on the back. Palin winced in pain. "Glad to see Harn's lady has some spine!"
"Was," Palin stammered, suddenly confused. "Was that a...test?"
Evie waggled her hand back and forth. "Eh. I wanted to see what you'd do. High pressure situations reveal a warriors measure, ya know? Harn taught me that."
"Really," Palin said, unable to stop her hand from touching her cheek.
Evie supposed it still felt cold from her magic, but could only shrug. With a luxurious stretch, Evie straightened her back and grunted in relief as something popped and cracked. "Now, how about you help me with this Paladin I left dying in your shop?"
Palin started. "Come again?"
