Irwin's Journey - The Cardsmith

Chapter 77: Cutthroat



"So many cards… gone," Lamia muttered disheartedly as she walked beside Irwin.

Irwin couldn't hold back his grin, and he patted her shoulder. Although it was cold and the short day was ending already, he felt great.

A shiver ran through him as a cold blast of air blew in from a narrow alley.

Well, he felt really good, at least.

"Don't worry, Lamia. I'm sure you will learn how to do it soon."

"And waste another dozen or more cards," the burly girl declared as she slapped her hand on her leg as if to chastise herself.

"I don't understand… how come he succeeded?" she muttered, staring at Trimdir, who was walking a few feet ahead, together with Daubutim.

Irwin shrugged, not sure about that either and equally curious. Trimdir had brought some of his own common cards, and after Irwin had succeeded another time, the master smith had tried his hand at reforging. The first two cards had exploded, but Trimdir had been relentless, continuing on with great focus and dedication. The third card had shaken and jolted a bit before merely splitting in two instead of exploding. Undeterred, Trimdir had continued, and to the sounds of Bron's uncharacteristic whoops of joy, the fourth time he had managed to reforge the card successfully.

Irwin still felt a wave of surprise when he thought of the moment the smith had roared in joy, looking at the card as if it was the most precious thing in the world.

Perhaps he should be the one going to the Smith's Guild, Irwin thought, staring at the overly muscled smith's back.

Deep in thought, they continued in silence through the city's empty streets, their footsteps echoing softly while the dim light of flickering torches illuminated their surroundings.

When they reached the smithy, Lamia reluctantly left, saying she had to talk with her uncle but would return the next day.

As the others entered, Trimdir stopped in the center of the smithy and turned to Irwin.

"I'm going to head out and attempt to trade these for more common cards," he said as he raised the cards he and Irwin had reforged. "Stay here. I'll bring back food."

Irwin watched him leave in wonder. Why had he even come here if he was going to leave right away? Was he afraid Daubutim and he might have come across trouble? Galub assassins?

Before he could ask, Trimdir pulled open the door and left into the rapidly encroaching darkness.

Irwin was about to ask Daubutim how he thought it had gone when a rustling movement came to from his pocket.

"You are a monster! And so is that old guy," Ambraz snapped, remaining inside his pocket but moving around, seemingly agitated. "Both of you have to be blessed by some ancient smithing deity!"

Irwin grinned at Ambraz's obvious exaggeration and shook his head, part of him wondering if there actually were smithing deities.

"How is it possible that Trimdir managed to reforge a card so fast?" he asked.

"What? Do you suddenly feel bad?" Ambraz snorted. "Don't. I'm not lying. You are the biggest monster I've ever rea- Ah, never mind. Trimdir? He has had far more time to bond with his cards and has far more metal-purifying experience than you."

Irwin agreed with Ambraz, but he frowned due to the odd sound the anvil had made before stopping. He saw Daubutim cock his head and frown as he gazed at where Ambraz was grumbling in his pocket.

He keeps saying half things… What was he going to say? Does he still not trust me?

He'd noticed it before but usually didn't have the time or forgot. Now, still buzzing from the thrill of reforging his cards, he decided to press on and discover the truth. Pondering how to broach the topic tactfully, he wracked his brain for a smooth approach but ultimately blurted out the question without ceremony, unable to contain his curiosity any longer.

"Why are you still holding so much back?"

There was a moment of silence, and he found that Daubutim was looking at him, seeming surprised by his outburst.

"Who? Me?" came Ambraz' surprised mutter. "What are you talking about? I've shared more with you than most people in this world probably even know!"

Irwin sniffed. "Yes, but you keep saying things like 'never mind' or 'that doesn't matter' before quickly changing the subject. Just like right now. What were you going to say? Something that you had read about something involving me being a monster?"

Ambraz was quiet, and Irwin was about to prompt again when he heard a soft scraping coming from the door. If there hadn't been a moment of silence, he'd never have noticed it, but when he looked up, he saw Daubutim was staring at the door. A flash of light came from his hand, and his massive greatsword appeared.

What is going on?

The sound came again, and this time Irwin saw something thin and dark moving up between the side of the door and touching the inner metal handle that held the door closed.

A knife? No… a claw….

Irwin tapped his pocket to keep Ambraz quiet when he realized the anvil hadn't said anything. For a moment, he thought it was because Ambraz was unwilling to answer his question, then he frowned. Ambraz had a knack for detecting things... had he noticed it? If so, why hadn't he warned them?

Whatever was happening, it wasn't normal, and with a tiny flicker of light, his hammer appeared as he also prepared to enable Coperion Body.

There was a soft screech as the dark claw cut through the metal before pulling back.

Irwin licked his lips as he leaned forward, preparing for-

A tiny scuffle was all the warning he had to trigger his Coperion Body before something slammed into him from the side. The sound of metal against metal came as he felt sharp, cold metal slice across his throat while dark, horribly familiar tendril darkness rippled around him.

Slaughter Demon! Irwin thought as he summoned his flame, wrapping it around his arm and then pulling it further. He'd never tried so before, but with the surge of adrenaline, his full-hand-powered flame wrapped around his torso with ease, covering him in a burning armor of flame.

There was a startled scream as the solidified thing he saw from the corner of his eye rippled away.

"Demon," Daubutim roared, and Irwin heard him run forward.

His mind was reeling, his vision blurry as he followed the movements of shadowy tendrils as they headed towards a darker part of the smithy. Daubutim was running after it, slashing his massive sword forward just as the shadow reached the corner and curled around the back of a junk-metal-filled crate.

Irwin shook his head which was rapidly clearing, raising his hand at his throat. There was a sensation of wetness, and as he raised his fingers, he saw they were tinted by a red gleam. Seeing the red and feeling the pain, his anger flared up. What did that demon think, just attacking him out of the blue like that?

A dull thud sounded out as Daubutim struck behind the crate before looking up in worry.

"It's gone! Look out. It's using the shadows to move around!"

Irwin nodded angrily, his eyes burning as he called up Eyes of Blaze. For a moment, he didn't see anything, but then he noticed a tiny glimmer moving along the side of a thick stone beam keeping up the ceiling. Without holding back, he jumped forward, enlarged his flame like a spear, and jabbed at the spot.

Bright light burned away the shadowy darkness, and a hate-filled scream came as a cloud of darkness billowed out and to the side.

"Don't let it flee away," Daubutim shouted as he ran to a nearby forge and pulled the bellows with his full weight.

A strong airflow blew into the dimly glowing coals, which instantly ignited. Another pull and the forge began gaining steam while Irwin reached the door. His flame was out in full power, but he quickly curtailed its power as he smelled burning wood. The dark, shadowy being bolted to the furthest side of the smithy reached the door that led to the storage room and, like the smoke it resembled, moved through the narrow gaps, disappearing from sight.

Daubutim ran to another forge, working the bellows till it was lit.

"Help me turn them all on so that thing can't reach the door!"

Irwin nodded as he ran to a forge and, ignoring the bellows, jabbed his flame in the middle. The pile of coals flared to life, fire roaring around them. Within half a minute, they had lit most of the forges, the room bathing in fiery light as the temperature rose rapidly.

"Should we get it?" Irwin asked as he glared at the door. His fingers still touched the thin wound on his neck, and he knew that if he had been a few moments later with his Coperion Body, he would have been badly hurt or worse.

"No, that's far too dangerous. Stay here, keep your flame up and I'll go and get Basil," Daubutim whispered as he ran to the door.

"Alright, hurry."

The door slammed shut behind Daubutim, and Irwin looked at the door leading to the storage area. His flame was as hot as he dared make it.

Time slowly ticked by, and he heard nothing from the storage room. There was no sight of the shadowy tendrils, and slowly he wondered if there was some way for it to escape.

When the smithy's main door finally slammed open, Irwin had calmed down considerably.

"Where is it?" Basil growled as he stomped inside, followed by Daubutim and three guards Irwin didn't recognize, but that oozed confidence.

"Still in the storage room," Irwin said, pointing at the door.

"Alright, follow me and keep your flame ready."

Irwin blinked in surprise. He'd somehow imagined Basil to storm in without help. As the guard captain passed him, he followed, keeping his flame ready.

"I've dealt with two of these before," Basil muttered. "And each time, we lost a lot of good people. It will try to hide in the shadows and jump on us. Its claws are incredibly sharp, but I can see from your neck you already found that out the hard way."

Irwin touched the thin wound, nodding stupidly.

They were two steps from the door when Basil's body flashed, and he grew now wearing his gleaming armor, his sword in hand. Before, he had just been a little taller than Irwin. Now Basil was a full head taller. With a quick shove, the golden warrior pushed open the door with such force that Irwin heard the wood complain. Then it slammed into the wall, splinters spraying around as a portion of it shattered.

Nothing happened, and Basil slowly inched inside.

"Keep the light high and bright. Daubutim, stay with the others and make sure it doesn't sneak around us."

"Yes."

Irwin's nerves grew tense as he followed Basil into the familiar, cluttered, and crate-filled room. The tough-looking guards stayed outside with weapons raised. As he followed after the gleaming warrior, Irwin kept his eyes swirling around, looking for any sign of the demon. His flame was flickering tall above his hand, causing the room to be well-lit, but as they moved around, there were no pained screams or shouts.

Is it hiding? he thought, afraid of getting jumped again.

As they reached the back of the room, there was still no sight of the shadowy tendrils. They continued to search through the jam-packed room for a while until Basil finally stopped and frowned as he turned to Irwin.

"Make your flame as bright as you can for a short moment," he whispered.

Irwin nodded, raised his hand, and released all of his limits on the fire. It roared up and sideways, lighting up the room as if it was the middle of the day. When there was no response, but he began to smell burning wood, Irwin retracted the flame back to more manageable levels.

"Perhaps it's in one of the crates?" he whispered.

Basil frowned and moved to a nearby crate, pulling the top off, sword raised. When nothing happened, he moved to the next, continuing until every crate was open.

Irwin looked around, trying to figure out where the demon was hiding.

After a while, he saw that Basil was glaring at the ceiling. Following the other's gaze, he fully expected to find the shadow, but instead, he saw a fist-wide tube that led outside.

"It left through the air vents?" he whispered.

Basil grunted and grabbed a burlap sack from one of the crates. Then he climbed atop another and stuffed into the hole before jumping off and stalking outside.

"It's out in the city somewhere," he said as he looked at the guards. "Stick together and head back to the tower. Alert the others and send out hunting parties."

The guards nodded, then turned and sprinted away while Basil let out an annoyed sigh.

"Great. First Galub assassins, and now this. Like we needed a Slaughter Demon with all that's going on."

The guards-captains body flashed, his armor and weapons vanishing as he shrunk down to his normal, still large stature.

"Alright. I'll stay here with you until Trimdir returns."

Irwin stared at the other in surprise.

"What? Don't give me that look! Bron told me to make sure nothing happens to you, and although nobody seems to want to tell me what's going on, I'm going to make sure I do. Now, how about you fill me in on what happened in that portal and how you got back here?" Basil said as he walked to one of the anvils and hopped on as if it was a chair.

--

Irwin groaned as he stretched himself. A soft snore told him Daubutim was still sleeping, but as he wearily pushed himself up and looked around, he saw Trimdir sitting on a chair beside one of the crates that served as a table. The forges were all burning, causing the room to be warm and brightly lit.

"Did you even sleep?" Irwin asked as he rose and looked around for the nearest flagon of water.

"No. If I slept, who would warn us if that demon returned?" Trimdir said softly as he put the book he'd been reading on the crate.

Irwin felt a slight pinch of guilt as he realized he'd never even offered to take a watch. Somehow, even with what had happened, being in the smithy felt like it should be safe.

"Bron came by not too long ago," Trimdir said, causing Irwin to look up in surprise.

"He brought another stack of cards, but he warned us to stay away from the merchants from now on. He-" Trimdir's frown deepened, and he shook his head before continuing. "He suspects our dear Merchants Guild might know more about what is going on or work for someone that does."

"They what?" Irwin snapped, his voice far too loud.

Daubutim grunted as he shot up and looked around with sandy eyes. "Wu-?"

"Sorry," Irwin said. "Nothing is wrong. I just made too much noise."

Daubutim grunted as he slumped back on the ground, stretching and muttering something.

"It doesn't matter right now," Trimdir said as he rose. "Now both of you are awake, and the sun is out, it's about time we talk about what to do next. After that, it's time to eat."

The smith waited until Irwin and Daubutim had joined him on the other stools before putting down two stacks of cards. Even with all the cards he had seen so far, Irwin couldn't help but suck in a breath.

There have to be over a hundred, he thought as he licked his lips.

"These are the only cards we can get from now on," Trimdir said slowly. "There are no more. Bron has taken all of the common cards the merchants had by force, causing a massive backlash."

A stunned silence filled the room as Irwin and Daubutim gazed at Trimdir in equal means of confusion and disbelief.

“But… wont the merchant guild…” Irwin began, stopping as Trimdir stared at him with his usually calm face.

"Yes. The merchant guild is going to act up," Trimdir said as he nodded.

"But, because Bron assumes they know more of what is going on, he believes they won't act. Instead, he thinks there is a big chance most of the powerful figures in the Merchant's guild have already retreated to one of those hub worlds. Besides, with how dangerous the situation is, he believes that antagonizing does not outweigh us learning how to reforge common cards to increase our likelihood of survival."

Irwin looked at the table and the stacks, finding he agreed with Lord Bron's way of thinking. If the merchants guild was no more than a normal guild of this world, they would eventually benefit from this. If they were actually from a hubworld, they were part of the problem. Probably.

"So, here is what we are going to do. You are going to help me increase my skill at reforging until I can safely reforge four out of five cards. At the same time, Lamia will be learning with us. Then, I will attempt to teach another master smith. If I manage, and if you are still willing, Hutch and a squad of guards and rangers will accompany you, Daubutim, and Lamia to Esterdon."

Another smith, Irwin thought, realizing he should have thought of that. If he taught Trimdir, yet he proved unable to teach someone else…

But he already succeeded once! Shouldn't it just be more practice? As he looked at Trimdir, he noticed the slight smile and a bit of sadness in the other's eyes. He probably wouldn't have noticed if he hadn't been around Trimdir as much as he had over the past few months. It took him a few moments to understand what was going on.

He already knows. He is just trying to give me more time to get to grips with having to go to the hubworld…

As the thought came, Irwin leaned back and stared at the table again, feeling both joy and sadness. Joy at someone willing to go this far to help him, and sadness knowing that he would have to leave and might not see the other again. Just like his mother and brother. Was that what his life was going to be like? Leave people behind as he continued on and on?

For a moment he wondered if he should ask Trimdir to come along after they had taught more smiths. Then he shook his head. He was being selfish. Trimdir could do far more good here, while he had to go and learn what was happening beyond the portal.

"Alright," he said as he looked at Trimdir. "After what you showed yesterday, you should be able to do that by the end of tomorrow."

Trimdir didn't respond for a moment, then nodded.

"You're a good kid, Orwin," he said as he rose and took the stacks of cards. "Let's see if your belief in me is not misplaced."


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