“Lady Amdirlain.”
The gruff voice disrupted her reading of the Code, which had turned out to be pragmatic rules that could have been titled ‘Don’t be an arse to your neighbour’. She hadn’t gotten into the craft appendices but wordlessly returned it to the Dwarf behind the counter. The Dwarf who’d spoken wore grubby clothing and a soot-stained apron that had specks of metal sticking to it.
Analysis
[Name: Jantar Forgehand
Race: Mountain Dwarf
Class: High Crafter / Fighter / Blessed Artificer / Forge Master
Level: 15 / 61 / 15 / 15
Health: 7,111
Defence: 580
Magic: 230
Mana: 49,224
Melee Attack Power: 280
Combat Skills: Club [M] (17), War Hammer [M] (25) - Various Blessings.
Details: Jantar, daughter of Liajan, is the High Crafter of Moradin in Duskstone. She gained the High Crafter Prestige Class at level 60 by combining the Priest and Artificer classes. Her mother is the secondary High Crafter currently serving in the Iceshield Stronghold.
]
[Blessed Artificer:
This improved base class is unlocked by the achievement of crafting a Relic and consistently furthering the cause of Moradin. ]
[Forge Master
This base class is a specialty Priest Class only available to a Priest of Moradin who has combined the Artificer and Priest classes. ]
Yet for all her work gear, True Sight showed the protective enchantments around her. She absently carried a smith’s hammer that didn’t look like a weapon, but the runic patterns were brilliant with power. Her hair and beard were restrained in braids, their deep red unmarked by any burn marks. Jantar considered Amdirlain steadily, but she was caught off balance when Amdirlain smiled widely.
“High Crafter, Jantar. I wasn’t expecting you to come meet me here,” said Amdirlain, giving the High Crafter a bow.
“Since there was some confusion last time, I thought I’d best come along myself,” Jantar replied, waving off Amdirlain’s bow. “How long will you be with us, Lady Amdirlain?”
“Not long, but I hope to find an Artificer who might resolve a problem I have,” answered Amdirlain.
“Come talk with me in Moradin’s Hall,” invited Jantar, already turning for the door. When her gaze settled on Natsal for a moment, she motioned her towards the entry. Natsal scampered away even before the gesture was complete.
“Your boss won’t object to my visiting?” Amdirlain asked cautiously.
“Moradin specifically told me to offer you the hospitality of his Hall,” responded Jantar. When Amdirlain moved alongside her, she continued speaking. “While they might feel odd to you, his Halls won’t reject you.”
“Odd?” queried Amdirlain.
“You have got a lot of Willpower—so I’m told—but Moradin also said you’re not the most orderly,” Jantar replied with a bark of laughter.
“There is that,” agreed Amdirlain. “I prefer helping people instead of enforcing the law on others.”
“We have lots to speak about,” Jantar said. Her sturdy gait would have set a fast pace for others, but Amdirlain still had to slow herself. “As long as you don’t break Duskstone’s Code, no one will bother you.”
“I’ll try to behave myself properly,” Amdirlain offered and earned another bark of laughter from Jantar.
Her entry into Moradin’s Hall was uneventful—visually at least—the energy settled over her as she crossed the threshold, the sensation like being bundled comfortingly with numerous heavy woollen blankets. While the power enfolded and weighed her down, it didn’t constrict or feel painful, and an unseen hand clasped her shoulder a moment in a firm welcome.
The Hall sounded like an industrial workhouse rather than any place of worship she’d encountered. Even from the doorway, she could see teams of strikers working with smiths to flatten metal plates and a half dozen forges busy crafting one weapon or another. She could see those within the central floor area, with other forges partly visible between pillars in adjoining regions that had more activity still.
Jantar threaded the way between forges, and they passed what seemed to be the main altar. A statue, not larger than life-size, but simply another Dwarf stood beside a cold forge, hammer raised to strike a metal bar that tongs held at the ready. True Sight showed nothing, but to Soul Sight, silvery coals were shining inside the forge, burning with more heat than all the busy forges in the Hall put together.
Jantar reached the back of the Hall and, without a word, perched on a bench at a worker’s lunch table. As the High Crafter sat her hammer on the table’s edge, Amdirlain slid onto the bench beside her.
“You didn’t even flinch crossing the threshold,” stated Jantar.
“Why should I?” asked Amdirlain. “I’d made a decision, and I followed it through, no point second-guessing the moment I’d take the step.”
The energy of the Hall didn’t mask the familiar power that approached them, and Amdirlain glanced over to see an armoured Celestial. As in the Gnarl stronghold, the barrel-shaped figure walked with an unstoppable surety that anything in their path would find itself pushed along ahead. The blast furnace of energy she’d sensed then was untroubled living on this Plane. On their way past a side table, they plucked up a pitcher and a stack of mugs without breaking stride. When they were across the table, they casually slid a mug over to each of them and claimed one for themselves before they sat.
Analysis
[Name: Lófnaríx
Species: Angel (Solar)
Details: Lófnaríx has served Moradin since the Dwarvish Gods reached the Titan’s Realm via a Gate opened by the Eldest Chorus of Anar. The Dwarven Pantheon’s entry into the Titan’s realm caused many Celestials to form from the raw energies in the planes they inhabited. Like many angels, Lófnaríx can change form at will, but like others, he habitually uses a single form for his duties. Mortals that cannot see his inner energies believe him to be a male dwarf unless he intentionally reveals his true nature.
]
“Good to see you again Amdirlain. Your name is better suited to you than the last you carried,” said Lófnaríx, as he poured a mug of mead for Amdirlain, Jantar, and then himself.
“It took me a while to decide what name to use, Lófnaríx,” Amdirlain said simply.
Lófnaríx froze for a moment before a smile appeared within his helm’s shadows. “You remembered.”
“No,” refuted Amdirlain, not expecting the sad gaze she received. “I’m sorry, I don’t have the memories of when you knew me. I have a talent for names now.”
“What matter did you seek an Artificer for Lady Amdirlain?” Jantar asked smoothly, interjecting before Lófnaríx could reply.
“There are Jungle Giants I need to locate. They fled when others let Demons overrun their world. The Gate they used ended up with them trapped in the Abyss. I’ve rescued some, but I need a device that can ideally point me toward the closest from hundreds of kilometres away.”
“Close to someone you’ve never met but know the race of,” Jantar murmured. “You could at least be trying to find a relative of someone.”
“Some Giants I rescued have relatives in other groups,” explained Amdirlain. “The more Clans I find, the more intermarried groups I’ll meet.”
“Simple enough in theory, but what sort of range are you talking about?” enquired Jantar.
“They’re spread out over a Plane as far as I know,” Amdirlain said. “I know roughly where to seek some groups at least, but the directions aren’t precise.”
“Blast, not so simple. Searching for someone in a mountain range is one thing,” grumbled Jantar. “The greater the distance and endurance you want, the rarer the materials required.”
Amdirlain glanced at Lófnaríx, trying to gauge his reaction, but his attention stayed fixed on Jantar. “What do you need?”
“For what you’re talking about, you’d need a relic grade item. That would require flawless gemstones from ancient Elementals and other expensive materials,” announced Jantar.
“Is anyone looking to work towards their High Crafter Prestige?” enquired Amdirlain absently.
“How did you know?” Jantar stammered after a moment, regarding her in surprise.
“By the way, tier five gives better results at level seventy, not to mention tier seven is possible,” said Amdirlain, lips twitching as she took in the pair.
“We’ve never had it confirmed,” confessed Jantar, directing a firm look at Lófnaríx.
“They might get High Crafter without doing so; however, your Blessed Artificer required you to have made one. I’d like to help other Artificers of Moradin get a better base Class option after their Prestige,” Amdirlain declared.
“Mortals need to find their limits on their own,” Lófnaríx grumbled.
“Oh dear, did I spill information I shouldn’t have? Tsk naughty me,” Amdirlain said brightly, and when Lófnaríx frowned, her smile broadened. “One thing I don’t do well is keeping secrets that might save someone’s life. I prefer letting people know the best results they can achieve, and then they can decide if they want to put in the work or not.”
“The accord states that Mortals need to discover such for themselves,” declared Lófnaríx, the frown not lessening.
“Technically, the agreement was neither the signatories nor their servants would reveal the secret to Mortals,” Amdirlain replied, her smile unfaded. “I’m neither.”
Lófnaríx’s booming laughter was an about-face from his frown, and Jantar looked between them.
“What’s so amusing?” Jantar asked,
“From his reaction, I’m pretty sure certain parties are glad I’m a loophole for spreading information,” Amdirlain responded cheerfully. “There are other things you should know. Do you have time to talk?”
I’ve still not learnt what group wanted the restriction set in place.
Jantar shrugged and motioned for her to continue, “Arrangements were made to cover my duties until further notice.”
“Fine, then let me tell you a few details about classes, imprints, and a few other things,” declared Amdirlain before she paused and directed her attention to Lófnaríx. “Is Moradin the type to restrict his Priests from gaining affinities?”
“He does not, though most Dwarves don’t go about acquiring many,” Lófnaríx stated and continued with only the slightest hesitation. “They tend towards construction magics Artificer or Alchemist classes rather than Wizard.
“That could extend this conversation.”
Taking a sip of the mead, Amdirlain considered what to start with first. A few moments with Analysis gave her an idea.
“Now, High Crafter Jantar Forgehand of Duskstone, daughter of Liajan Forgehand, second High Crafter of Iceshield Stronghold. . .”
If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.
As the lineage recital continued onwards for minutes without sign of slowing—or Amdirlain’s explanation beginning— Jantar’s gaze narrowed with suspicion.
* * *
“Will you need to teach affinities?” enquired Jantar, when the last lesson finished. “Or will they be able to teach others themselves?”
“I’m told my priestesses and priests can teach, but others that have tried haven’t managed it,” Amdirlain replied. “There are several of them in Eyrarháls, among other places. Those dropping by there and asking for help learning affinities aren’t likely to be rejected unless they’re rude.”
“I thank you for taking the time to meet today and assist those in our community looking to expand their capabilities,” Jantar said, motioning towards the gathered clergy of Moradin. “We’ll research options for your relic and let you know the materials that we don’t have; you won’t need to pay anything for its crafting.”
“I prefer to cover the costs as you can use those resources to help others,” insisted Amdirlain. “I have an idea that might appeal to Moradin’s, faithful and this could help start it.”
“What did you have in mind?” Jantar asked.
Amdirlain paused thoughtfully and considered how to present her proposal. “I’m told apprentice fees can cost a lot. Is that correct?”
“The time of a skilled Master is valuable, and when they’re teaching apprentices, they can’t do their work,” explained Jantar, as if she was expecting an argument.
“Then I’d like to set up a fund to sponsor youngsters with potential whose family can’t afford to pay those fees,” declared Amdirlain.
“How does anyone assess that? Who would manage it?” Jantar’s questions came quickly as if more from reflex than concern.
“Surely you can determine if someone would have a talent for certain crafts. The fund would pay their apprenticeship fee. Ideally, once they reach the master rank, they’d contribute back to the fund, but that doesn’t have to be an obligation for coin. It might involve them teaching another selected by the fund’s organisers. I’m sure we can work the details out later,” suggested Amdirlain.
“You have interesting ideas, Amdirlain,” Jantar said after a moment of consideration.
“Glad you eventually stopped with the Lady,” laughed Amdirlain. “That title does my head in.”
“After you started beating me over the head with my whole lineage every time you spoke, a retreat seemed wise,” grumbled Jantar and gave Amdirlain a frown. “How did you know thirty generations of my family’s accomplishments?”
“That’s my secret to know,” Amdirlain said. “Would you like me to recite more?”
Analysis, I love you so much.
“Would you be willing to talk to some High Priests and assist their clergy?” asked Jantar after a momentary pause.
“I’m always happy to help anyone genuinely helping others,” Amdirlain replied. “Who did you have in mind?”
“There are some in Duskstone that you’d like, Amdirlain,” Jantar said. “I’ll speak with them and sound them out.”
“I’ll let you have that fun then,” Amdirlain asked. “I’ve got to go catch up with Jaixar. Is it the day shift still?”
“For another two hours at least,” answered Jantar.
* * *
“No, lass, just toss it onto the pile with the others and rest,” Jaixar instructed, her voice clear through the closed shutters of the shop. “Give yourself plenty of space for each rune. If the rune’s Mana interferes with another, there is no salvaging it. Might want to sharpen the etching tip while you wait for your Mana; you certainly shouldn’t need to press so hard with copper.”
Amdirlain thumped on the door, and a few moments later, a young Dwarf pulled it open. Their gaze was at eye level for another Dwarf and confronted by her stomach, it jumped up to regard her. Surprise turned to recognition in an instant.
“Lady Amdirlain.”
Amdirlain hadn’t previously learnt the messenger’s name, but Analysis was almost a reflex.
Analysis
[Name: Salnox Greypeak
Species: Mountain Dwarf
Class: Scout
Level: 2
Health: 28
Defence: 14
Magic: 11
Mana: 9
Melee Attack Power: 15
Combat Skill: Short Blades [B] (4), Club [B] (2)
Details: Salnox, daughter of Naisal, initially studied for a position as a Scout with the Stoneheart militia until her family moved to Duskstone. She earned extra coin for her family as a messenger in Dusktstone until recently offered an Artificer apprenticeship position.]
“Please call me Amdirlain. Salnox, is it?” Amdirlain asked, holding out a hand. “I’m sure you’ll learn a lot from Jaixar.”
The young dwarf lass clasped her hand without hesitation and gave the same board grin Amdirlain remembered.
“Amdirlain, happy to meet you,” said Salnox. “I didn’t think Journeymen Jaixar could get in touch with you to pass news.”
“She has her ways of knowing things. Let her in, and let’s see what our patron has got for us today,” Jaixar said, her tone almost bursting with restrained laughter.
Salnox moved out of the doorway, and Amdirlain could see little had changed within except a new stone table against one wall.
“Business partner, not patron. Found someone to occupy the apprentice bedroom, did you?” teased Amdirlain. “Who knows what Elven riff-raff might have returned otherwise.”
“It was just sitting there empty in case someone bothered coming back,” Jaixar retorted in a mock huff. “It’s still yours if you want a spot to meditate. Salnox is living with her mother still to help with her baby brothers.”
“Prefer to be living here. They’re a pair of menaces at present; absolutely everything needs to go in the mouth,” grumbled Salnox as she moved around the workbench.
Jaixar chuckled and glanced at Amdirlain. “So, what marvels do you have to add to my workload?”
“Nothing too special. Copper and bronze bars for the Adventurers’ Guild work, plus some minor things,” Amdirlain replied deliberately casual.
“Minor things?” Jaixar asked suspiciously.
Amdirlain’s reply was to set a dinner plate section of Dragon scale on the bench next to the geode Jaixar had been examining. Jaixar gazed at it for a minute before her eyebrows tried to climb into her hairline. “No… you can’t be serious. How old was it?”
“Only a fraction over a century,” explained Amdirlain, amused at Jaixar’s reaction.
“The poor beast should have stayed in its lair,” moaned Jaixar dramatically and started laughing when Amdirlain rolled her eyes.
“Brat, it was at home,” squawked Amdirlain playfully.
Jaixar sniffed the material, delight lit her gaze, and her tone grew in excitement. “How many of those do you have?!”
“Not too much; some pieces are buckler sized, others are bigger than a militia guard’s full shield,” Amdirlain stated. “Along with an assortment of pieces that broke off about palm size or smaller.”
“Broke off? How long did you have to spend smashing them?” asked a baffled Jaixar before she began turning it over in her hands.
“When I was purifying it with Celestial Mana,” Amdirlain said.
“That figures,” said Jaixar with a nod towards the geode. “This Dragon from the same Plane?”
“Dragon?!” Salnox cried, her attention not having left the bantering.
“Yes,” stated Amdirlain with a laugh. “Relax, it’s dead, and the remains are on another Plane. It’s from the same region, not the same Plane.”
“So an equally unimpressive amount of copper and bronze, I take it?” asked Jaixar with mock snobbiness.
Amdirlain smiled and shrugged. “Only a thousand ingots each, plus nuggets that need smelting,”
“Only!”
“Fine, I thought the price was for a hundred. I ended up with more than I expected,” huffed Amdirlain and earned the laughter she’d hoped to gain from the pair.
“How long will you be staying?” Jaixar enquired, even as she extracted some crystal fragments from the geode.
“Not long,” replied Amdirlain. “Though the High Crafter wants me to meet with a few others in Duskstone.”
“Oh, I’m hurt; we weren’t your first stop,” proclaimed Jaixar clutching a hand to her chest.
“Bite me!” exclaimed Amdirlain, and Jaixar’s blurted response gained a laugh.
“Why?”
“Where do you want the ingots?” Amdirlain asked, ignoring the response her saying had elicited.
“In the back storeroom,” Jaixar stated, giving Amdirlain a confused head shake. “There is a strange tale going around about a large Human and an Elf staying in Duskstone; they hired on to protect mining crews. Going to see them?”
“They moved here?!” exclaimed Amdirlain considering the news while she settled the materials out the back.
“Well?” pursed Jaixar when she came back.
“Not this time around. I’ll let them get settled,” decided Amdirlain before she changed the subject. “Manticore body parts, anything useful to you?”
“Teeth, claws, or hide from adults are always good,” replied Jaixar. “Though their stingers and eyes have restrictions on dealing without explicit need.”
“Really?”
The surprise in Amdirlain’s voice earned a glance from Jaixar before she returned to the geode.
“When you can read the Code, the Alchemist section details dealing in poisonous materials,” replied Jaixar.
“How are eyes poisonous?” enquired Amdirlain.
“The fluid in them can cause bleeding in the brain even if ingested in small amounts,” replied Jaixar. “Though it’s good to mix into materials intended for objects to detect or protect from various poisons.”
“I noticed you’ve got nowhere to practice as an alchemist,” observed Amdirlain.
“When I get done with the geodes, I’ll use my share to set up a work area in the storeroom,” said Jaixar.
“There isn’t much floor space left. You’ll need to do something with the nuggets and bars,” said Amdirlain, waving absently toward the shop’s rear.
Jaixar started and looked up at her in disbelief. “You filled up my storeroom?”
“More cluttered it; you’ll need to step carefully to avoid tripping,” observed Amdirlain before she explained. “Nuggets don’t stack, and you might want Master Gildenshield to come to get any Dragon scales you don’t want.”
“Your crates have all sold, as have the geodes I’ve finished so far,” Jaixar offered, changing the subject with a badly faked forlorn sigh. “Master Pimnal won the bidding for the lot. She was hoping we’d be able to provide more.”
“It might be a while before I’m back there. I’ve got some appointments besides those in Duskstone,” responded Amdirlain.
Jaixar set the geode section she’d been examining down and paused with her hand on another. “Who are you meeting with?”
“A lot of dead Demons,” Amdirlain replied.
“Why would you want to meet with Demons, even dead ones?” muttered a confused Jaixar.
“They aren’t dead yet,” retorted Amdirlain.
Jaixar rolled her eyes and swivelled on her stool to glance back at the storeroom. “Dragon scales; so not ready for those, and too valuable to hold here. Salnox, could you take a message over to Gildenshield Headquarters, please?”
* * *
Duskstone’s gate closed behind her with a sharp click. Striding forward to get outside the limits of their wards, Amdirlain considered the notification she had received following meeting the High Priests again. The aid she’d given the Wizards in their communities was well received. It had proved a sufficient sweetener that their faiths were establishing a fund to help the young pursue options in life they’d otherwise missed out on.
[Your faithful’s standing with the Dwarven Pantheon overall has changed from respected to optimistic. ]
The sense of their Halls had been as welcoming as Moradin’s, but each very different. While the High Priestess of Sharindlar had given her some knowing looks, given her Goddess’ portfolio included love, Amdirlain hadn’t even asked. The maternal, homey sense of Berronar’s Hall had hit her with homesickness and longing but had been sweet all the same. Its main altar had looked as if it was part of a living space, with the Dwarves’ Mother welcoming her children home.
Once outside Duskstone’s wards, Planar Shift moved her. Standing amid erratic rock spires on the Plane of Portals, she morphed to the red-haired Succubus form. After a moment’s consideration, she was wearing the same style leathers the others had donned, complete with the emblem of bars and chained chords.
The region of the Plane wasn’t one Amdirlain recognised, but she didn’t orientate herself, instead, she teleported to Ternòx’s exit to follow Lorrella’s directions. She was thankful that her directions between portals were as precise as her directions for materials were vague. The descent into the Jinamizi’s Portal was a seamless transition. One moment she was dropping, the next she was standing on a cracked and parched landscape. An immense red sun shone down coldly and painted the Plane in shades of crimson.
The closest boundary marker of a ramshackle tent city was less than a kilometre away, signalled by eternally burning pillars covered in skulls facing outwards from the camp. Once inside their boundaries, the very nominal rules of neutrality would apply, but first, she had to get there.
Arm-deep cracks crisscrossed the drying earth as wisps of blood evaporated from soil and left reddish-black salt-crusted earth behind. The odour of copper and iron coated her nostrils, adding to a sharp, dead ocean stench. The sound of a thunderous cavalry charge resounded, and Amdirlain turned to regard the source. Scores of Demonic scorpions nearly the size of quarter-horses raced across the broken landscape. Visible between their claws, their bodies ended in flattened, eyeless human visages and barbed tongues tasted the air as they raced around the camp looking for scraps.
Their barely coherent thoughts turned her stomach. It wasn’t a combined attack; they were outracing each other to have her first. They could taste no Abyssal Heat from her, a trait they associated with easy prey for their mating urges. Lightning raced out to meet them, and when none even flinched away, she used Analysis on the closest as she considered another spell.
[Species: Kithangian
Class: Warrior
Level: 4 / 15
Health: 285
Defence: 40
Melee Attack Power: 39
Combat Skills: Bite [Ap] (9), Tongue [Ap](17), Trample [Ap] (1), Pincers [Ap](14) - Various Innate Powers
Details: Kithangian are only just above Bestial Demons. Few have enough self-awareness to claim a Use Name. They are always male, and on the Material Plane will cause an outbreak of fiendish offspring. If a Kithangian secures a target with both pincers, it will dig its barbed tongue into them in an attack that warps and twists the target’s self-identity.]
The Kithangian disappeared as their minds focused on reaching her first. They all tried to teleport to her. Not sure how they warranted Greater Teleport, the power ensured they didn’t appear inside each other as they appeared around her in a rush. A palm hand block shoved the first pincer snapping for her into the path of a stinger’s strike. Telepathy mapped arriving minds and noted those further away. Mentally, she slapped at the ones who hadn’t rushed her, provoking them to join the rest.
Their prey still within the churning bodies, her female presence taunting their lust. The last of the pack arrived at the circle’s edges, and Amdirlain transformed. A web bloomed instantly along the ground, and spikes erupted, piercing through bodies. The circles of death raced outwards, the spikes not even needing Ki to burst apart feeble armour. Protean consumed their bodies into itself, their mass added one by one into what it held folded away. The last body had vanished before the notification appeared.
[Combat Summary:
Kithangian x62
Total experience gained: 41,230
Fallen: +8,246
Scion: +8,246
Sora Master: +8,246
Psion: +8,246
Warrior Monk: +8,246
Protean [M](23->25)
]
Seriously, screw Dragon hunting, especially in a group.
Teleport placed her at the camp’s boundary, and she stepped across the wards there. The boundary wards keeping mindless beasts away were unresponsive, despite their inability to gauge her mind.