The not-immortal Blacksmith

Aeglazan, Dutchy of Oldwell.

31st of Arah, Second month of Snow;

2125 years since the new gods came.

I met with the Archdean today, and “signed up for classes”. A strange way of doing apprenticeships. New student orientation. Another strange thing. Oh well. Moving into my room on the third floor of Murphy's Hall was a bit of a pain, and the driver who took me here was untalkative. I liked him.

All of my things have been moved in and are stored in the proper places. I have added a lock to the door, as it did not come with one. I have noticed that all of the walls have been inscribed with runes of protection, that are geared to ward off explosions. Strange.

*-*-*

Earlier that day...

“Ah, Mr. Smithson! A pleasure to meet you!” The Archdean, a Mr. Dorset, said.

“Thank you sir.” Max said, “But please, call me Max.”

“Very well Max. Your letter of recommendation was...very interesting, and from very far up the in the church. Would you care to elaborate?” Mr. Dorset asked.

“Well, I have always gotten along well with the church back home in Garthia,” Max lied, “And my family runs a well established blacksmithing school there, with the full support of the church.”

“Ah, so you are from that Smithson family.” Mr. Dorset beamed. “Hmm. Perhaps you could do a lecture or two on your family's business for our students?”

“I don't know how well I would do on that subject, but I could try?” Max responded, realizing the trap too late.

“Of course, of course.” Mr. Dorset continued to smile, “So, what brings you to our little slice of heaven? Hmm?”

“I have decided to explore the world of candlestick making.” Max said.

“Oh! How interesting. I'm sure you have made them before in your family's school, so I must ask, why study here?” Mr. Dorset asked.

“Glass blowing. I have seen the results, but have never tried it. As I'm sure you can imagine, my family doesn't preform that kind of art.” Max responded.

“Ah. An excellent point.” Mr. Dorset said. “Well, I have absolutely no objections to that. Broadening your horizons and all that. Cary on good sir. I will be following your progress here with much interest.” He stood, as did Max. They shook hands and Max departed.

Once Dorset was sure Max was out of hearing range, he summoned his secretary, “I want him working as a teacher as soon as we can possibly arrange it. The church says he will be hard to catch, but what he knows...It could change everything. See to it.”

*-*-*

Max headed downstairs to the administration center of the building. He took the stairs two at a time, in an attempt to beat the elevating platform he had barely missed, to the bottom. He lost. Upon reaching the ground floor, ten stories down, he stood in line to register for classes. While he waited for the line to move, he read through the 'Information Packet” he had been issued upon the acceptance of his application earlier today. Ten years to finish all of the required course work, and finish the apprenticeship. Not bad. ¾ of each year are spent learning and practicing, and the last quarter you are allowed to go home, or take more classes. I could get used to this kind of thing.

At last he reached the board looking counter attendant. “Good afternoon, madam,” He said, looking the middle aged woman over, “I need to register for the first quarter of the glassblowing program. My proposed 'Major' is Candlestick Making.”

She looked down her nose at him, “Majors aren't declaired until after the basic courses are completed. She slid a sheet of paper across the counter to him, “Sign here, here, and here.” Max did as instructed.

“Good, good. Oh, Mister Smithson? Oh! You are listed as already tested out of the required courses! My apologies!” The woman took another look at Max. “Let me tear those up.” She did so. “Again, my apologies. If you go down two doors on your left, there, you will see the counter for returning students. Inform them of your name, and they will direct you.” She beamed at Max as he stepped away from the counter.

*-*-*

Several hours passed in the blink of an eye, as Max was passed from person to person, handed books, tools, implements, packets of information, and other such items. What amazed him the most was that he hadn't had to spend a single coin on anything. When the whirlwind of activity had finally died down, he found himself sitting on bench next to a large pile of items. Only a few of which did he actually know how to use. He smiled.

A few minutes later a self propelled wagon rolled up, and a few students stepped off, and he packed his things into the back. “I am supposed to take all of this to my dorm” He told the driver.

“Which dorm?” The driver replied, looking for all the world like he didn't actually care.

“Oh, um, Murphy's Hall.” Max replied after a moment of searching through his paperwork.

“Ah! A fine old establishment!” The driver replied with what looked like a smirk on hes face. “We will be there in just a few minutes.” He shook a pair of reins that were attached to nothing, and the wagon started off.

An uncomfortable ten minute ride later and Max was standing in front of his new home for the foreseeable future. Murphy's Hall.

Murphy's Hall was a large three story edifice of dark stone, with frosted glass windows interspersed across the front and sides. The driver had left almost as soon as Max had unloaded his things from the back. Now I just have to figure out how to carry this load of stuff up to my room.

*-*-*

32nd of Arah,

Orientation was boring. Very boring. If any of my masters had lectured on like that, I think I would have slapped them. Thankfully it is over. Classes start in two weeks, I have my list of locations, teachers names, and items to bring. I will spend the next few days learning the city, and meeting my neighbors.

35th of Arah,

The city is bustling with activity. There are many sights to see. Tomorrow I will be taking a temple tour with several of my “Hall Mates”. The dorms are mixed sexes. Most of my fellow students here in the hall are poor. Apparently “better” accommodation can be had closer to class if you have the money, but I will not “look a gift horse in the mouth” as Tristan would say.

36th of Arah,

The tour was splendid. The temples were some of the best I have seen. I did skip out on the temples belonging to Bjorn and the Idiot. No need to call attention to myself. Heard a snippet of gossip, apparently Murphy's Hall is haunted. Meh.

37th of Arah,

The 51st can't come fast enough. My hall mates are starting to get on my nerves. There is a D'Kin mage down the hall who thinks that calling rodents into the hall is a funny trick; young Gnoll woman keeps sniffing everyone she walks by; and the elf boy across the hall runs away every time he sees me.

40th of Arah,

The idiots priest was here today to bless the hall. I stayed away from him for the most part, but he did eventually seek me out. I was polite, but refused to visit their chapel. Idiots. I'm not stupid enough to enter into one of her places of power. Anymore.

44th of Arah,

I was invited to play a game today: Humans and Highrises. I sat in on the game, but declined to play. Turns out not to be my cup of tea. They did have some nice math rocks though.

50th of Arah,

Classes start in the morning. I don't know how busy I will be. Perhaps to busy to keep this journal up to date, but I will try.

TTFN