The not-immortal Blacksmith

In a forgotten cavern somewhere deep under mountains just north of the Demon Lands, a dark shadow rolled over in her millennia old slumber.

*-*-*

The Ocean between Garthia and Oldwell.

25th of Arah, Second month of Snow;

2125 years since the new gods came. Late morning.

“Master Smithson, I have a question?” Captain Wilson said, still a little shaky from the pirates.

“What can I do for you, Cap?” Max answered, coiling one of the larger ropes.

“How did you make them explode?”

Hmmm...Why not tell the truth? Max thought, then he answered, “Oh. Long story short, I accidentally left a sealed pot of water on the fire one time and it exploded; almost killed me actually; anyway, after many days of study and experimenting, I realized that I could use 'forge magic' to Superheat the blood in a body, and cause the body to explode. I've been practicing it on demons and bandits ever since.”

Captain Wilson shuddered. “Thank you...for the information.” He turned and retreated from Max. There is more to him than I ever expected. I may even want to refund his passage fare...

*-*-*

26th of Arah,

We dock later tonight. I'm off duty. One day of sailing is not nearly enough, but it was fun while it lasted. The crew...everyone has been giving me a lot of space since the fight. I wonder why that is.

*-*-*

27th of Arah, Morning,

“Master Smithson, It has been a pleasure.” Captain Wilson held out his hand, and Max shook it.

“Perhaps I will travel with you again, someday.” Max replied, smiling.

“Perhaps. Gods speed to you, and fare thee well on your journey!” Wilson said, then turned to the next passenger in line to continue the ritual.

The Mercy of the Waves would be in port for at least a week before it could properly sail again; damage needed to be properly repaired, and crew hired. Max walked down the gangplank towards his new home, and hopefully his new profession.

*-*-*

27th of Arah,

I have arrived! Tomorrow I will start looking for an apprenticeship. The inn I have selected is on the far side of the city from the docks, and should serve me well for now.

28th of Arah,

No one wants an “untrained apprentice”. There is apparently a school farther inland for apprentices to get “proper” training. The D'Kin are a strange people. I will search for more information about the school in the morning.

*-*-*

29th of Arah, Morning,

“So, I need to apply at the school, pay a minimum 'donation', and then I need to wait to see if I have been accepted?” Max asked the Candle Maker, one eyebrow raised.

“Yes.” the shopkeeper replied. He'll never make the donation fee. Not without a patron. “And don't forget the letter of recommendation.”

“Okay. That isn't that bad. Learning from the elves was much worse.” Max replied.

The shop keepers mouth dropped, “You...You learned from the elves?!?”

“Yes. A short course on trees. It was very interesting. I never had time to practice...” Max trailed off, then smiled about his last interaction with the elven god.

He didn't seem to be lying. Maybe this man might have what it takes after all? “I wish you good luck, Mr. Smithson.” The shopkeeper said, then headed towards a young couple who had just come in.

“Thank you.” Max said with a smile. This will be interesting.

*-*-*

29th of Arah,

So, I need to get things in order. Letter of recommendation? May be a problem. Donation? Easy. Application? Shouldn't be too hard.

I will be heading out to the school in the morning.

*-*-*

30th of Arah, Morning,

The walk from town to the school took only an hour, and Max enjoyed the scenery on the well used road. He crested a small rise and stared. Below him was a valley filled with a town; a beautiful town built from stone and glass; with the largest building in the center. The city was almost completely round, with streets in a series of concentric circles shrinking as they approached the middle. The buildings on the outskirts seemed to be workshops, bunk houses, and farms; whereas the closer in to the center were restaurants, inns, parks, and...Schools. There were a few churches and temples mixed in, but they didn't interest Max in the slightest.

As he wandered down the widening lane towards the beautiful town, a young Dwarf dressed in the robes of an acolyte of the god of crafting, stood up from a log on the side of the lane. “Master Smithson, I presume?” He asked.

“You presume correctly. What can I do your you, Priest?”

“I have been directed by my Abbot to give you these.” The acolyte held out a pair of letters, both sealed with wax, and bearing the Crafter's seal. “The one with blue wax is to be read first, sir.”

Max took the letters and broke the seal, and read the letter.

“Dear Master Maxwell Smithson, Heretic to the Gods, Patron of Demonia, and God friend of Bjorn the Crafter,”

Max growled and almost crushed the letters in his hand.

“May this letter find you hale and hearty. I bid thee welcome to the city school of Aeglazan. The accompanying letter is both a letter of introduction to the Archdean of Aeglazan, but also serves as a letter of recommendation to the same. I hope to meet you while you are here.

Abbot Cozentine.”

“Thank you priest.” Max said in a tight voice. “Please tell your Abbot that I appreciate the letter.”

“Very good sir.” The acolyte bowed. “May I lead you to the Archdean's office?”

“Thank you. I would appreciate that.” Max replied. “So, how is Bjorn doing? I havent talked to him for a while.”

“One can always talk to Bjorn. He listens quite well.” The acolyte responded.

“Last time I spoke to him was at my apprentices wedding. He seemed fine then. The company he kept at the time? Not so much.” Max said, completely deadpan.

The acolyte stopped, eyes wide, and mouth agape. “You...You mean it's true? You have met my Lord face to face?”

“Well yes?” Max cocked his head to the side. “Several times over the years. He is an excellent drinking buddy, and he only cheats when you are having an axe throwing competition.”

The acolytes eyes widened even farther. “B...Bu...But...” He sputtered. “But how?”

“Easy. He bent the air currents after throwing it, but before it hit the target. He only beat me by one point.” Max said. “I suppose I could have done the same, but it's still cheating. I lost...50 pieces of gold?”

The acolyte fainted.

*-*-*

Aeglazan really is a nice place. Max thought, as he carried the acolyte over his shoulder through the city. He looked around and called to a passerby, “Where it the temple of the Crafter?”

The woman looked up from dumping a wash basin into the street, “Two blocks down, and take a right. You can't miss it.”

“Thank you.” Max replied, and continued on his way.

The walk was short, and pleasant. The stone and glass building were well made, well decorated with carvings, and finely decorated. He whistled as he walked to his destination

The Temple of the Crafter was huge complex of buildings. As Max approached with his “package”, several people gave him sidelong glances, but no one stopped him. Not until he reached the main building. He was greeted there by a pair of smartly uniformed guards and a priest.

“Excuse me, my good man, but what happened to acolyte Pierce?” The priest asked, as Max set down the acolyte.

“Well, we met on the road, and during the course of our conversation he fainted.” Max said. “We were discussing a bet I made with a drinking buddy of mine.”

The priest raised a eyebrow, “Must have been and interesting conversation?”

“I suppose. But then again, Bjorn is just a person.”

The priest almost skipped a beat,“...I take it you are The Blacksmith that Abbot Cozentine spoke of earlier today?” The guards picked up the acolyte, and started carrying him inside.

“Probably? Maxwell Smithson.” Max held out his hand to the priest.

“Reverend Crage.” The priest shook the proffered hand. “Welcome to the temple of Bjorn, The God of Crafting.”

“I...don't really do temples, or churches any more, but thank you.” Max replied, “But if you see Bjorn walking around here, tell him I want a rematch?” He turned around and departed.

Crage looked at Max's back as he departed, “Well, he's an interesting individual. I wonder what it would take to get him to come to worship?”

A quiet voice from behind him answered, “More than you are willing to pay.”

Crage's eyes bulged as he turned around to see the ghostly phantom of a dwarf dissipate before him.

*-*-*

30th of Arah,

Aeglazan is a beautiful city made of stone and glass. Met an acolyte on the way in and received a letter of recommendation from Bjorn's local temple. Even visited the temple to drop off the acolyte. Tonight I stay at one of the “visitors only” inns. I will set off to find the Archdean in the morning.

TTFN