Rise of the Living Forge

And thus, Arwin found himself back in Lillia’s tavern. The rest of the Menagerie had vacated the immediate area, but they were all positioned close enough that they could return within seconds if a fight broke out.

Reya and Olive were both just at the top of the stairs, whose creaking gave their positions away rather effectively. Anna had taken to helping the imps clean some of the other tables while Rodrick stood outside discussing funds with Madiv, who had returned from whatever it was he had been doing with Esmerelda.

Wallace didn’t seem to care. He leaned his hammer, now devoid of its glow and nothing more than a plain weapon, against the edge of the counter as he drummed his fingers impatiently in wait. The chair was more than a little too short for him, leaving only his head visible above the counter.

“Sorry,” Lillia said apologetically as she set two tankards down before them. She took a bottle from the wall behind her and started to pour Wallace a drink. “We haven’t really had dwarves pass through before.”

“Most places aren’t worth passing through,” Wallace replied with a grunt. “We can do better than what you can. I’m here for the story, not human tavern food.”

There was no insult carried in his words. Wallace just seemed to be stating a fact. That didn’t stop the flicker of irritation from passing over Lillia’s features. She finished pouring the drink and pushed it over to Wallace before pouring one for Arwin and herself and sitting down at the counter beside them.

I think he’ll change his tune soon enough. I don’t care what kind of stuff dwarves normally get to eat. I’ve never had anything that matches up to what Lillia can do.

“There isn’t much of a story to give,” Arwin warned as he lifted the tankard to his mouth. “I got a class through a set of extenuating circumstances that I doubt can be repeated. I’ve been learning to be a smith ever since.”

He took a sip of the drink and nearly choked in surprise. It tasted like biting into a fresh apple — Bright and sweet, without even a hint of bitterness. It somehow managed to encapsulate the feeling of a warm hug beside a fireplace in the crisp winter. Even though he’d only had a small amount, the flavor filled his entire mouth and threatened to flood his senses. There was more than a little magic in the drink. Warmth spread through Ariwn’s body and filled him with energy.

“That’s hardly an explanation. I’m not going to be satisfied with a half-answer,” Wallace said. He brushed his beard down and tipped the mug back. His back and shoulders stiffened in surprise. A proud grin pulled across Arwin’s lips as Wallace leaned back, draining every last drop in the tankard before slamming it down to the counter, his ruddy eyes wide with shock. “What in the Nine Underlands is this? Where did you get it?”

“I made it,” Lillia replied. She didn’t bother hiding the smugness in her tone.

“You made it?” Wallace asked, aghast. “Have you taken me for a wander? A normal tavern has something like this?”

“Does this look like a normal tavern?” Lillia asked, casting her gaze around the Devil’s Den. Wallace followed it, then gave a half-shrug in response.

“Tastes are tastes. I’ve seen odder. I figured you just liked demons a bit too much. It doesn’t explain why you’ve got something like that just lying around. I’ve never tasted anything like that in a human tavern before. Haven’t had it in half the dwarf taverns I’ve been through either, and I’ve been through a fair number of ‘em. Tell me true now — did you really make that?”

Wow. We didn’t even have to lie about Lillia’s past. He just assumed it entirely on his own. That makes things easier.

“I can show you if need be, but it’ll cost you extra,” Lillia said.

Wallace studied her for a second. Then he looked back into his empty tankard. Lillia smirked and grabbed the bottle, refilling the rest of his drink while Arwin took a sip of his own and watched on in amused silence.

“Are you married?” Wallace asked.

Arwin nearly spat his drink out.

“Betrothed,” Lillia said smoothly.

Wallace followed her gaze over to Arwin. Then he grunted. “Damn. Stone’s toss too slow. You could make a shiny one selling this in the caverns. I’ve never tasted anything like it.”

“A possible business venture at some point in the future,” Lillia allowed, her smile growing. “I’m glad to hear you like it, though.”

Wallace downed the rest of his tankard again, then shot Arwin a sharp glance. “What are you doing, letting it sit? Trying to offend your lass, are you? Drink.”

Arwin didn’t have to be told twice. He drained the rest of the tankard before setting it down on the counter with considerably more care than the dwarf had used.

“Now we can get to business,” Wallace said. “How’d you get dwarf magic? I’ve never seen a human with it that hasn’t been taught — and you haven’t been taught.”

“How do you know?” Arwin asked, blinking.

Wallace sent him a flat stare. “I see your equipment, boy. Cobbled and squeezed together, it is. Not a single speck of proper heat in it. You’ve not worked with lava. What did you do, use [Soul Flame] as the heat for a hearth?”

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The dwarf laughed at the question, but his laughter quickly trailed off when he spotted Arwin start to nod.

“Yeah. I didn’t realize it was that obvious,” Arwin said. “I don’t know how to use [Molten Novice]. Nobody taught me. I’ve been flying a bit blind.”

“I believe you, if only because no self-respecting dwarven smith would ever let their student hobble around making this songless shite,” Wallace said, thrusting a finger into Arwin’s chest. A small frown passed over his features. “But you’ve done a surprisingly good job for cold metal. I saw those gloves of yours. Got more than a lick of magic in them. A fair bit more. Not bad for a blind whelp. You really just figured it out yourself?”

“Just about.”

“Then how’d you get that portal into my workshop? You definitely didn’t craft it.”

“Mostly on accident. As I said before, we got the key off some adventurers in a dungeon. It led into an old, abandoned workshop. An item I was working on ended up gathering a bunch of fire and opening a portal that looked quite similar to the first door the key opened, so we tried it out.”

“You’re telling me an item you made opened a portal past my defenses on accident?” Wallace asked, arching a bushy eyebrow. He looked down at his tankard and let out a regretful sigh. Lillia filled it again.

“Yes,” Arwin said.

Wallace drained the drink, then slammed it back down on the counter. He hopped down from the stool and nodded to the door. “Come on, then. Let me have a look at it. I’ll set aside the rest of my grievances if you’re telling the truth.”

“I think you’ll set them aside if Lillia gives you another tankard,” Arwin pointed out.

“Do I look easily bribable to you?” Wallace scooped his hammer up and rested it on his shoulder.

“Yes.”

A wry smile crawled across the Dwarf’s features. “Damn right I am. That’s why I’m choosing to leave now. Are you going to let me have a look or not?”

Arwin exchanged a glance with Lillia. Then he shrugged. He wouldn’t have said that he trusted Wallace, but the dwarf had seen his equipment and barely even flinched. Unlike everyone else in Milten, Wallace saw magical armor as something to be expected.

That means he’s almost certainly stronger than us by a fair margin. I wish I knew what Tier he was, but for the time being, he hasn’t really done anything that I can complain about. I’d have asked everything he has if someone opened a portal into Lillia’s tavern.

“Don’t know how much you’ll be able to see,” Arwin replied as he and Lillia both rose to their feet. “But so long as you don’t go sharing everything with everyone you meet, I don’t think we can object.”

Wallace tilted his head to the side. “You’re makin’ demands? Of me? What leverage do you think you’ve got?”

“Good luck getting a drink like the one you just had anywhere else in the world,” Arwin replied with a smirk. “Lillia’s one of a kind, and the only thing better than her drinks is her food. If you don’t ever want to get a taste of either again, feel free to do what you want.”

Wallace stared at Arwin. Then he snorted. “You bargain like a dwarf. Come on, then. Let’s see it.”

They headed out of the tavern and back to the back room of the Infernal Armory. Arwin gestured vaguely around them.

“Here. It’s the whole building. The stats are disguised, so you’re not going to find much just by looking.”

“You made an enchanted building? The whole thing?” Wallace’s tone shifted, gaining a slight measure of interest. “Without song in your hammer?”

That’s the second time he’s mentioned something about song in a hammer. What is he talking about? I’m not sure if I want to go sharing how Lillia and I worked together. I don’t know how widely spread that technique is.

“No idea what that means, but I did it without any tutelage,” Arwin said, choosing his words carefully to avoid flat out lying. He hadn’t had tutelage — but he’d had a lot of help from Lillia.

Wallace rubbed his chin thoughtfully as he studied the maw-hearth. The Infernal Armory didn’t seem to mind the scrutiny because it remained perfectly still.

“What is this?” Wallace muttered, running a hand along the black veins on the ground.

His eyes lifted to the protrusion at the back of the room and his wide narrowed. The dwarf rose to his feet and walked over to it. “What’s in here? The veins lead to it.”

“A monster heart I used as a basis for the building. I just wanted it to power the bellows, but it ended up kind of taking over my smithy a bit. It was not entirely intentional.”

Wallace spun away from the wall to face Arwin. “A monster heart? You used soft flesh? Not stone and metal?”

“Yeah,” Arwin said with a slow nod, not seeing any reason to lie. He still had absolutely no idea why or how his building had opened a portal into Wallace’s smithy. If the dwarf had some way to find out, it would help the both of them. “Is that a problem?”

“You’re tugging my stones,” Wallace snapped. “That’s impossible. You can’t forge flesh. It’s impossible.”

“Well, it would be if you hit it with a hammer. I just kind of made a cage for the heart,” Arwin said with a small shrug. “It was a pain in the ass, but it isn’t that hard. Maybe you can’t forge it because you use lava?”

Wallace’s eyes bore into Arwin. “I’ve been smithing for longer than you’ve been alive, boy. I know how to do more than just sling lava around. You can’t forge the living. It’s impossible.”

“Why would I lie about something like this?”

“A ruddy good question,” Wallace agreed. “Which makes me inclined to believe you. Let’s say I pretend you’ve found a way to do what centuries of dwarven smiths couldn’t. What kind of heart did you use? How did you make a building that has the ability to open dwarven portals when you yourself can’t?”

“I don’t really know exactly what it was from. I got it from a flesh golem,” Arwin replied. “The Mesh didn’t have a description for it. It was just a giant beating heart. Kind of creepy. I doubt you’ve heard of…”

Arwin trailed off as Wallace’s eyes widened and his lips parted in disbelief.

“Dungeon heart,” Wallace breathed. “You found a dungeon heart and forged it into your own smithy?”

“I’ve got no idea what a dungeon heart is,” Arwin admitted. “Perhaps you can enlighten me?”

Wallace muttered something under his breath in a language that Arwin didn’t understand, but the tone told him that it was almost certainly a curse.

“No idea what it is,” Wallace mimicked, shaking his head. “Now it all makes sense. My master always told me that the only thing more capable and dangerous than a master of his craft was a fool in it. It seems he was right.”

“I’d say I’m not following, but I think that would just make me play into the whole fool bit even more,” Arwin said dryly. “Care to enlighten me as to what it is that I’ve mistakenly done?”

“I’m going to have to do a whole lot more than that. You’re a loose cannon that has managed something that a no dwarf has,” Wallace said, tapping the haft on his hammer on his shoulder as he locked his gaze with Arwin’s. “And it’s my duty as a smith to determine if you can be trained — or if you have to be destroyed.”