Chapter 9

.

.

A Lone Blacksmith

.

Blaidd, once again, had a habit of underselling things. 'A little on the large side'? Those words did not quite do the blacksmith justice.

While he would have usually gone to Hewg for reinforcing weapons and repairing his armor, the Tarnished was trying to steer clear from the Roundtable Hold for a while following his confrontation with Sir Gideon. Thus, following the half wolf's advice, he had made his way north from Raya Lucaria to find the venerable blacksmith who, according to Blaidd's word, would lend a hand in his future endeavors. Luckily, given his size, the blacksmith was not exactly difficult to spot from a distance.

Blaidd's friend was mountain troll who was large, even by his species' standards. However, unlike his brethren, however, he did not seem the lumbering mindless sort. Rather, the troll sat behind his enormous anvil thoughtfully reading an enormous book, seemingly unaware or uninterested in his surroundings. It was an odd sight to be sure and the troll's strange demeanor made the Tarnished slightly wary. However, Blaidd was a good, honest man and so the Tarnished guessed that he likely wouldn't associate himself with someone that he needed to worry about.

He had set himself up in an odd place, just by the road leading up to a castle not too far away. The Tarnished was slightly interested in what might lie within the castle, but reminded himself of his more pertinent priorities. Whatever lay in that castle could wait until after he dealt with Rennala and certainly until after he fixed up his armor. Thus, he ignored his curiosity and approached the blacksmith.

Waving one hand in a friendly gesture, the Tarnished greeted the troll. "Hello there, blacksmith!"

The troll raised his head from his tome and nodded back. "A tarnished warrior, hrm? What might you be doing so far from the academy? If you are searching for a glintstone key, unfortunately I have none. Or, perhaps, you are curious about the castle over yonder? I can't imagine you came all this way just to speak with me."

The Tarnished shook his head. "In truth, I arrived here specifically looking for you. I'm seeking the services of a trained blacksmith."

"Smithing eh? That is quite surprising to hear," the blacksmith responded, "I can't say a Tarnished has approached me in a long while requesting my services. I have been quietly plying on my trade for some time now. When was it last time I raised this rusty hammer for another tarnished, though… perhaps that dragon knight with his lovely finger maiden?"

Dragon knight? The Tarnished had not heard of someone fitting such a description before. However, he supposed there were hundreds of tarnished of little renown, similar to himself, running around the Lands Between. "A half wolf by the name of Blaidd suggested I seek you out. Said if I mentioned his name you might be willing to lend me a hand."

Upon hearing Blaidd's name, the troll placed his enormous book by his side and leaned forward, now seemingly more interested in the Tarnished's request. "Blaidd actually did that, did he?"

"I helped him find and dispose of a traitorous knight by the name of Darriwil," the Tarnished explained, "After the battle he said that, should I find myself in Lirunia, I should seek out a blacksmith who might be able to aid me in my quest."

The troll scratched his chin and mulled over the Tarnished's story, likely assessing its truthfulness. Then, he spoke, "Apologies, Tarnished, if I sounded skeptical. Blaidd is a guarded soul, so it is simply surprising to hear that he opened up in such a manner. However, you know of Darriwill and, now that I look closely, you wield his very sword there in your hand, so your words must be true. At any rate, if you are friendly with Blaidd, then I would be more than happy to give you a demonstration of my skills. Please, let me see that sword of yours, and the armor as well."

The Tarnished obliged, placing his blade on the anvil in front of him before removing and doing the same with the more damaged portions of his armor. Once everything was before the blacksmith, he told the Tarnished, "You may want to back up a few steps. If you come too close, I'm apt to cause you harm."

"Apologies, sir blacksmith. If my presence would distract you from your work, I can wait by the ruins down the path," the Tarnished suggested, stepping away from the anvil.

The blacksmith shook his head and chuckled. "No, nothing like that," he said "I simply mean to say that I am terribly large compared to you, Tarnished, and it is difficult not to break anything while I work. So long as you leave some room between the two of us, however, you may stay with me while I forge. In fact, some company and good conversation as I hammer away would be a welcome change."

"Alright then." The Tarnished took a seat in the grass a safe distance away from the blacksmith, but just close enough to hold a conversation. "What is your name, sir blacksmith?"

"I am Iji," the blacksmith answered as he began his work, "I am a blacksmith who once served the Carian royals, though I no longer hold such a prestigious title. And what shall I call you?"

"Just Tarnished is fine," he told Iji, "I don't hide my name out of any suspicion or distrust, but rather because I do not know it myself."

"Memory loss hm? I am sorry to hear that," Iji responded, "Tarnished, then. Say, I have heard whispers from spirits roaming the lake that Godrick the Grafted has finally fallen. Might that be your doing?"

With the fall of a demigod, the Tarnished supposed word travels fast. He couldn't help but feel a bit of pride that his accomplishment had been recognized outside of Limgrave already. "You are correct, though I did have some help."

"Then, I am sure you are in possession of the demigod's great rune?"

The Tarnished was not sure whether or not he should be sharing the fact that he was now a rune bearer. However, he had already let it slip that he slew Godrick, so trying to hide that he took the great rune as well seemed pointless now. "I did claim his great rune, though I ask you not spread that information with too many. I have yet to figure out how to awaken it, though, so I fear its power is of little benefit to me for now." He had meant to ask Sir Gideon about the matter, but after the incident with the Albinaurics he was hoping to find his answer elsewhere.

Iji pulled the bloodhound greatsword from the burning coals beside him and placed the red-hot blade on his anvil. Raising his hammer, he began working on its edge with surprising care for his size. As he tempered the sword, he said, "If you wish to reawaken the great rune, you need only seek the divine tower. Lucky for you, Godrick's divine tower is accessible fairly nearby, across the bridge from Stormveil Castle."

This fellow was turning out far more helpful than the Tarnished ever imagined. He would have to thank Blaidd later for referring him. "Just by Stormveil? I was curious what purpose the tower served. I'll be sure to pay it a visit before I seek the next great rune."

Iji paused after hearing the Tarnished's words, his hammer held steady mid swing. "Iji, is something the matter?" the Tarnished asked, curious why the Blacksmith had stopped.

With a tinge of melancholy, Iji asked, "I, suppose then, you are now after Queen Rennala's great rune?"

"Ah…" The Tarnished berated himself for his own absent mindedness. The giant had said himself that he once served the Carian royals and Rennala was their queen. Even if she remained locked away in the academy, the old blacksmith likely held at least some loyalty to his former mistress.

"Do not fret, Tarnished," Iji reassured him, "I do not intend to leave this job unfinished, nor will I try and hinder your quest."

"I appreciate your understanding," the Tarnished said, relieved he would be getting his weapons and armor back intact.

"Think nothing of it Tarnished. While I lament Lady Rennala's current state, I do not wish to see your kind suffer unnecessarily. The Greater Will has already shouldered you with the cruelest burden, after all." Iji soon resumed his work. He brought his hammer down with a clang, putting the finishing his work on the sword before submerging it in the trough of water to his right, causing the blade to hiss as water turned to steam.

The Tarnished was surprised by the distaste with which Iji spoke of the Greater Will, but he decided not to question it. Already he had met several others, such as Varre, who thought little of the Greater Will and its blessings. Certainly, Iji's beliefs could not be worse than the white mask's bloody ideology. "The task before us is rather daunting, there is no doubt," the Tarnished said, "though I suppose it is better than lying dead beyond the fog."

"Perhaps," the blacksmith said, seemingly unconvinced. As Iji moved the Tarnished's armor to the anvil next, he said, "I should warn you, however, that others here in Lirunia may not be as accommodating as I. Powerful forces still guard lady Rennala. Though she is captive in the academy, she remains the venerable mother of three demigods."

Though the Tarnished doubted any demigods would come to her rescue, he supposed that any remaining Carian Knights may remain loyal to their queen. The Tarnished looked up the road leading to the castle to the north. He asked Iji, "the Carian Knights… is that their stronghold up ahead?"

Reluctantly, Iji answered, "Yes, that is the manor of the Carian Royal family. Though, if you value your life, I would not venture further beyond this point."

While his current state of immortality did skew the value of his own life, death was still incredibly painful and he had no desire to rush headfirst into it. After all, he did not know how long he would retain his grace, making each new death potentially his last. Still curious about the manor, though, he pressed on with his questioning. "What awaits that is so dangerous?"

Iji took a minute to fix an especially stubborn dent in his armor before answering. "Long ago, when the academy turned against the Carians, the Knights of the Cuckoo descended this tract. After leveling it, they carried on to the manor. The Carians, however, repelled the knights through an enchanted snare, one that remains potent to this day."

An enchanted snare? The threat sounded quite vague and the Tarnished wondered if such a thing even existed. "This snare… what is its nature?"

"That, I will not answer," Iji told him frankly. "I offer this warning not to assist you in reaching the manor, but so that you are not unwittingly harmed by its many perils. I ask that you leave the Carian Manor be and allow those within it to rest undisturbed."

The Tarnished wanted to object, as the conversation had only fed his desire to explore ahead. However, he decided not to pursue the topic any further. Iji had been more than generous already, sharing how to reawaken his great rune and reinforcing his weapon, despite the fact that it may be the very sword to slay his former queen. It was only right for the Tarnished to return such generosity in kind.

"Very well," he said with a sigh, "I'll leave the manor be, as you wish."

"Thank you, Tarnished." After thanking him, Iji held up the Tarnished's armor, examining it carefully. He muttered to himself for a bit as he rotated each peace, ensuring that they were to his liking. Then, he placed it down on the anvil, along with the Tarnished's great sword, and said, "yes, these should be done. Please, try them out."

The Tarnished re-equipped the armor and checked all the previously damaged spots, finding them perfectly mended. He then held up his sword, giving it a couple test swings before refastening it to his back. Turning back to Iji, he said, "Thank you for your help. I only know of one blacksmith who could rival your skill."

"Oh, a blacksmith that rivals my talent. That doesn't surprise me. I noticed as I was working that your sword had been expertly handled before. What is this smith's name, if I may ask?"

"A misbegotten blacksmith named Hewg," the Tarnished answered. "Grumpy old man, but good at heart. I doubt you would know him, though. I don't think he has left the Roundtable Hold in a long while."

"Perhaps it is our fate to stay shackled to our forge," Iji mused as he picked up his book once more. "Master Hewg… Hm, I can't say I have heard of him. Though not many of us blacksmiths are renowned throughout the lands. Well, I suppose Lord Radagon may be an exception."

"Lord Radagon was a blacksmith?" From what the Tarnished had heard, the Second Lord had come from humble, unknown origins. However, he had not realized that the golden champion was also a blacksmith.

"Yes, Lord Radagon was an accomplished smith. He had a natural skill, as if God given, especially when it came to enchanted armaments. If I am to be honest, I was once quite jealous of his abilities," Iji chuckled as he reminisced. "That man was truly blessed by the Greater Will."

What an interesting piece of history. Radagon, despite his importance, was a figure that the Tarnished had heard shockingly little about. Perhaps the man wasn't very popular, especially after taking the place of the beloved First Elden Lord.

The Tarnished wanted to ask more, but knew that he should soon be on his way. He still had a glintstone key to claim and slaying the dragon guarding it would likely prove to be… time consuming. So, after giving his thanks once more, he bid the blacksmith farewell. Then, he summoned Torrent and turned back from the manor's path back towards the lake, continuing on his quest.

.

A Drink Between Friends

.

The Tarnished felt a shiver of satisfaction as he sipped from the tiny cup. The warm liquid was soothing as it went down his throat and finished with the perfect amount of bite. It was an interesting drink, to be sure, unlike much he had tasted in the Lands Between.

"What is this called again?" he asked Yura as he held out the cup, ready for another drink.

"Sake," Yura answered as he poured the Tarnished another drink of the clear alcohol. "It's a drink brewed from rice, common in the Land of Reeds. I brought it as a keepsake when I first crossed the fog on my journey. Originally, I planned to celebrate with it if I ever achieved the title of Elden Lord. Alas, having lost sight of Grace, I doubt such an occasion will ever come to pass."

"No time like the present, I suppose," The Tarnished said, raising his cup.

Yura nodded, raising his cup in kind. "Celebrate every victory as if it were your last. Especially with foes as unrelenting as the bloody fingers." The two clinked the cups together before both taking a sip in unison.

The Tarnished held the drink in his mouth and savored its warmth. Sharing a drink with a companion after battle was truly one of life's virtues. He eyed the corpse of the bloody finger not too far away. The Ravenmount Assassin had certainly put up a fight, using his formidable speed and sharp claws to his advantage. The bloody finger even seemed like he had the ronin on the ropes when the Tarnished first encountered the two. Luckily, however, once the Tarnished joined in, lending his sword to Yura, the fight quickly became one sided. After the two disposed of their foe, Yura had offered a drink to the Tarnished as thanks. Not one to turn down good liquor, especially before the fighting his way through Raya Lucaria, the Tarnished happily accepted.

"I have to ask, the Tarnished said, taking another sip, "what led you to throw in against this lot?"

"They are vicious, indiscriminate killers," Yura answered Do I need a reason to hunt these wretched worms?"

The Tarnished guessed he had a good point. Anyone with any sense of justice would want to end the trail of bodies left in their wake. However, still, he felt that the answer was not quite satisfying. "I agree that the world is better off without the sick cult. But your hunt for them seems far more determined, more relentless than someone just looking to enact justice."

Yura sighed. "You have a keen eye, Tarnished. Yes, my hunt for the bloody fingers is motivated by personal reasons."

Not trying to be insensitive, but still curious, the Tarnished asked, "If you don't mind telling me, what did they do to you?"

At first, Yura did not answer, holding his tongue as he took a pensive sip of sake. Then, after some consideration, the bloody finger hunter decided to impart some of his tale. "When I first arrived in the Lands Between, I did not come alone. Rather, alongside me, traveled a woman named Eleonora. She and I were raised together, trained together, and fought many battles side by side. What was more, we were both of tarnished blood, with each our grandmothers hailing from the Lands Between. Thus naturally, when the Greater Will issued its call to long lost grace to the tarnished and their lineage, the two of us set off together."

The tarnished and their lineage? The Tarnished had always assumed that those who flocked to the Lands Between following the call of long-lost grace had been at one point banished themselves. He never considered that one could be tarnished from birth. He pushed his questions aside, however, and continued to listen to Yura's story.

"As I'm sure you're aware, the quest for the Elden Ring a near impossible task," Yura continued, "Before long, we felt the light of grace begin to slip from our grasp. We truly struggled with all our might, but we could not even reach the capital, Leyndell. In the end, I succumbed to the hopelessness of it all. After all, I was not even born of these lands, so how could I ever rule them as Elden Lord?"

The Tarnished understood the sentiment. Fighting against despair and hopelessness was sometimes a more difficult feat than cutting down the hoards of enemies opposing you. He could not fault Yura for letting go of his ambition, nor did he believe such a choice spoke ill of his character. If it were not for Melina's companionship, he likely would have lost sight of grace long ago.

"Perhaps my heart was not in it to begin with. Eleonora, however, was always a woman driven by optimism and ambition. She never lost hope, even in the direst of times, such was the beauty of her conviction. Despite losing the golden hue in her eyes, she was nonetheless determined to find a way into the capital and reach the base of the Erdtree." Yura's expression became somber as he polished off his drink and placed the small cup beside him. "The two of us argued viciously about the best path forward. I wanted to be done with the quest, to abandon the Lands Between try to live peacefully, maybe even return to our homeland. In the end, we went our separate ways, unable to reconcile our differences. That is when she met with that damned mad samurai, Okina."

The bitterness and hatred with which he said the name was palpable. The unfettered contempt he held for her was written all over his face. "The mad dog approached her under the guise of friendship and manipulated her determination, offering her a path to new strength and even an unclaimed great rune."

"And she believed him?" The Tarnished supposed he had followed his fair share of tenuous leads, but even so such a vague offer sounded dubious at best.

Yura nodded, "She had made little progress on her quest and, with the golden light all but gone, she was desperate. Okina took advantage of her desperation and dragged her down into the dark pits where all those bloody savages crawl out of. I meant to return, to apologize and help her achieve her dreams, even if I could not see them myself. However, I was too late. To my shame, I was not there for my friend when she needed me most, and that is a failure I must bear forever more."

The Tarnished could understand the ronin's regret over what happened. He could tell that Yura cared deeply for the woman, perhaps even loved her. However, even still, if Yura continued waging this one-man war against the bloody fingers, the Tarnished was sure it would end in his death. He could already see it in the last battle, the unending nature of the conflict was catching up to the man. The Tarnished had to at least try to convince him to lay down his sword, for his own sake. "What happened to your friend was tragic, but in the end, Eleonora bears responsibility for her own actions. If this campaign is some punishment you've inflicted on yourself due to a misguided sense of guilt, I ask that you reconsider before it takes your life."

However, the Tarnished could tell his words had not reached the bloody finger. Even if the golden flame of ambition was gone, an unrelenting determination to save the one thing that mattered to him in the Lands Between remained. His body was haggard and the cracks were showing, but Yura's spirit was still unbroken.

Yura let out a hollow chuckle and said, "I thank you for your concern. Even if a bloody reckless fool at times, you're a good man. However, even if I were to stop searching, those cessblood zealots would never leave me be. I am afraid the only way this hunt ends is if I kill all the bloody fingers or they kill me. And even putting aside the others, I refuse to abandon Eleonora once again."

The Tarnished finished off his sake and sighed. Yura was determined, there would be no getting through to him. The Tarnished didn't know if he could change the ronin's fate, but the man still had some fight and some hope left in him. Yura silently gathered the ceramic cups and placed them back in his bag, along with his flask of sake. "I should be going now," he told the Tarnished as he stood up, slinging the bag over his shoulder. "As should you, I imagine. Unlike Eleonora and I, you truly could be the one to claim the Elden Ring and end this damn struggle for all of our kind."

The Tarnished was thankful for the faith Yura placed in him. Especially with all that had happened recently, his encouragement was a much-needed boost to the Tarnished's confidence. "I can't promise you I'll make it so far. But I can promise you that I won't give up so long as there's even a spark left in me."

Before he left through the academy gates, Yura turned back and called out to the Tarnished, "If Eleonora comes for you during your travels, do not think twice. You must flee and not look back. Though grace's blessing remains with you, she is unyielding once challenged and will hunt you over and over until death is all you know. There is no shame in self-preservation."

Then, with that parting warning, the ronin stepped through the magical barrier and disappeared from sight.

AN: After forgetting to announce this for the last couple chapters I finally remembered to let you all know that I have also posted this on AO3, as per some suggestions. So if you like using that site more, it's up there as well (though might sometimes be a chapter behind). Thank you for all the kind comments and I hope you all continue to enjoy the story!