The not-immortal Blacksmith

City state of Knutson, Western Wilds.

15th of Amsiel, Second month of Summer,

2136 years since the new gods came.

Instillation of the chandeliers is complete. The new mansion is gorgeous. As expected, the huge ballroom walls are tastefully painted in colors complimentary to the chandeliers. When the sun shines through the bank of north facing windows, the colored glass in the chandeliers sparkle. The floor is a well polished dark hardwood of local harvest, with neatly carved decorations along the outside edge. Beautiful place. I would never live there.

25th of Amsiel,

I may have let it slip to Brandywine today that my birthday is coming up. I hope she was too drunk to remember.

26th of Amsiel,

She remembered. Damn. It's not like I can hide from her. Maybe I'll take a few days off and go sailing? I do have a new sail to test out. That sounds like a good idea.

27th of Amsiel,

Plan failed.

47th of Amsiel,

My birthday is tomorrow. I will be having lunch with some friends. Then I get to go sailing...bugger it all.

*-*-*

48th of Amsiel,

In the small shrine to the god of crafting, an old, young, middle aged? Dwarf walked up to the young acolyte attending to the candles, looked him in the eyes, and asked, “Lad, do you know where the town is from here?”

“Y-Yes sir?” He took a deep breath. Something felt wrong, but also right. “If you head out that door, it's just over the hill to the north.”

“I bless you, my son.”

Somewhere, in the acolytes head? A silver chime sounded, and the Old? Dwarf walked away.

*-*-*

The small tavern wasn't full, not even close, as Maxwell celebrated his...'26th' birthday. Has it really been so long since I had a party? He was surprised as to how nice it felt. It's been so long. Not since I retired...I'm...479 years old?...400 years without my wife... He took a long drink of his wine. Across from him, on a pile of empty plates and bowls of her own Brandywine gave him a Look. He sighed.

Unnoticed by all but Brandy, who started smiling, a spry dwarf slunk up behind Max, and at the last moment yelled “BOO!”

The table jumped, and Max turned around, about to smash his wooden tankard into someones head, then stopped, “Bjorn! You old Bastard! How did you get here?”

“Well, obviously, I walked.” His eyes twinkled. “How else would I get here?”

Laughter echoed around the tavern. “You didn't think I would loose track of you, just because you moved out of the four...Five? Kingdoms?”

“Well... Maybe?” Max rolled his eyes, then laughed at his oldest friend.

“Still funny, or trying to be, anyway.” Bjorn smiled. “I have brought you a gift from Dwarf Home.” He pulled a large stone bottle from his bag, “Bottled in 1239, from my personal collection”, the whole tavern gasped, “I present the 'Dew of the Mountain'!” And he opened the bottle and began to poor.

*-*-*

51st of Amsiel,

I have been happily drunk for...several days. Bjorn can be a wonderful person. And an asshole. My bed is soaked in water...I have a vague memory of fighting pirates...Lighting some docks on fire...What is a depth charge? I woke up this morning clutching a silver crown. Not the type you actually see monarchs wearing for daily use, no, the ones you see on display, or in illustrated books. It weighs 13 pounds, is etched with gold and white gold filigree, and mounted with 7 gems of different colors. At least three of them are glowing. Oh, and it is sized for a halfling. Not those short fantasy things that the 'Heros' talk about, the ones that are half as tall as a true giant, the Real Halflings. Bjorn might remember where we got it...I doubt it.

*-*-*

52nd of Amsiel,

“Brandy? What did we do for my birthday?”

“Well, first we drank that wonderfully smooth booze, then we went sailing.”

“I remember that much...”

“Then...we drank more...hunted pirates?”

“The crown? Where did we get the crown?”

“Oh, that. I remember an underwater castle Bjorn said he saw sink a 'while' back. Umm... Something about 'half pint' giants? There was this vault...? You said a bunch of unpleasant words and punched the vault door...? Umm... … Then the armor tried to kill Bjorn. That didn't go well.”

“Okay. Anything else?”

“Blah, blah, stuff happened? And you got a magical crown! End of story!”

“...Thanks?”

*-*-*

52nd of Amsiel,

I have put the crown in brandy's bedroom for safe keeping. Shop opens again tomorrow.

3rd of Kusha, the month of harvest.

Re-opening was a bit sluggish, what with having to clean out the bedroom. And someone has been sleeping on the dinner table. Stupid dwarf god.

*-*-*

The central demon wastes. Sometime in the past...present?

What is time? Time is a mortal construct! Time is seconds. And thirds? No. just seconds that slip to minutes, to days, to years. Time. The time has yet to come. I search for more caches. They seem to be everywhere. The target moved. But not really. I think time will be soon.

No. Not time yet. Time. Time. Time. Time....ZZzzzzz

Hmm. I am awake, yet I still slumber. My name. My NamE. MY NAME! My name is... my name is... my name is?

What is a name? Will it smell as sweet as a rose? Will Juliet wake from her dream as well? No. The bard of avalon is a dick.

MY NAME IS JAMES!!!!!

Do I have a second name? Ohh! The puppies are back! I will pet them ALL.

The worgs looked at the human. He had actually sleep walked east for three hundred miles. How did they know? They checked to see if he was asleep, and/or dead. They waited for him to pet them all, and play catch with the pups, all 53 pups to be exact. Their number was now in the 400 worg range. And yet he still fed them all. When it was cold at night, they all piled on top of each other, and him. He provided for the pack, and they followed. Always followed. For he was the leader. The Alpha. And the Omega.

Bad puppy! No frothing at the mouth! I told you to avoid the diseased ones! BANG! The short barreled .45-70 went off, and the crazed worg went down. He popped a WP, and burned it to ash, then cried for the lost one. I hope they listen better next time. Poor puppy. I wish I had some of that magic stuff the others used to talk about. Then I could have saved her.

A while later, a flock of sheep descended from the hills, intending to eat the man and beasts. After half their number fell, they fled from the noise of the hounds, and the brimstone in the air. Mmmm. Sheeple taste sooo good.

*-*-*

The large rabbit sat very still as the bow hunters stalked down his trail. I don't feel like killing them today. They may have food to eat. Unlike that last group. They were Wrong. I wonder if another demon king is crawling out of the soil again? I Know. I know I am not as I was. I do not care. I am at peace. Here. In nature. I will not leave.