{ === + === }
So the trip to Whiterun took us four days.
If memory serves, Alvor said the trip would be three days on foot.
We're on a cart.
So we should've gotten there faster.
What happened?
Well.
Wolves.
So many goddamned wolves man I swear to god if I see another lupine creature I will skin the fuck out of it
Every day, morning to night, we were stalked by multiple packs of wolves as we traveled the windy path down the hill towards Whiterun. Like the game, the path is windy and filled with blind spots like cliffs. Unlike the game, the path is unpaved in most places fuckin' looong.
And the forest wasn't sparse either, I mean…I got the feeling that if we went off the cobblestone path we very easily could have gotten lost. Makes me think that the linear distance from Whiterun to Riverwood is probably not that long, but what can you do.
Anyhoo, wolves.
We spent the first day crawling through the forest because the wolves just would not leave us alone. Eventually they attacked and we had to fight them off, which we did. Minor injuries all around except for the horse drawing the wagon, which got bit rather bad. We spent a day letting it rest so it'll heal properly.
"I can patch up its leg." Sven had said after a round of Lay on Hands. "But if it puts its weight into its legs it'll break, and I'm not skilled enough to heal that."
Losing the horse would suck, hence, day of rest and more healing hands. In a related note, skinning wolves for pelts was rather fun, if morbid.
Also in a related note, not sure if I like the taste of wolf meat. I feel, as a Chinese man, that I should avoid eating lupine products out of a sense of, y'know, not contributing to stereotype.
In total we scored twenty extra wolf pelts to sell in the market, and the extra wolf meat (which Faendal and the SS brothers cooked and smoked) were bonus rations.
I also kept the bones and teeth, because I think I can probably craft something out of them somehow.
So anyways, on day three we got underway again.
On Day three and a half we…erm.
So you know how wolves in game are basically fodder, until you get ice wolves, and then they'd kick your ass surprisingly hard?
Well here the monster list is a lot more…full.
Point being we saw what must've been a dire wolf, because it was easily as big as the horse hauling our wagon and it was pissed off for some reason or other.
May be because of the skinned wolves, I dunno how fucking giant magic wolves operate.
The SS brothers rushed the thing and sent it away after a short scuffle (I don't think it was interested in a fight) and we came out of the woods constantly looking over our shoulders.
And then we walked into a Stormcloak/Imperial Legion skirmish, which was annoying.
There were about eight guys on each side and they were fighting over a farmhouse. I'm not sure what the logistics of this happen to be, since Whiterun is neutral and therefore the farmhouse would have been too, but it was a thing that happened. There wasn't anything like leadership in that scuffle, which…y'know, means it was probably a non-military skirmish.
In the end it was about even. Stormcloaks had 2 KIA and 3 wounded, and the Imperials had 3 KIA, 2 wounded. The Whiterun guard—mounted, all of them—charged down here and scattered the tussle.
They bade us good day and we went into Whiterun without further issues afterwards.
Why did we just blow through that?
Because those random encounters had nothing to offer. We couldn't loot the dead Stormcloaks or Imperials with everybody judging us.
Anyhoo.
.
[Whiterun]
.
So…Whiterun.
It's a lot bigger than in-game. As expected, really.
It's too big for me to guess the population size, but if I had to ballpark, I'd say that 30,000 would be a good estimate.
Its defensive status is the same as the game: the walls are a bit under-maintained and low in some places, and the drawbridge leading into the city was erected over a river that is actually quite substantial. Falling into said river would hurt, and all that.
The land around Whiterun is covered in agriculture pursuits (farms, pastures, etc). Most of them have a house attached, suggesting small farmer ownership…farmers who live outside the town borders, anyways. By my best guess, the furthest farm from Whiterun's walls is about a two hour walk.
A few of the farms next to the walls were quite expansive and had no attached (large) living space, which makes me think that these farms are the ones that get marked on your map in-game. I don't remember their names because hoo-boy did I not care for them.
Um…
Right. The actual city.
Since we arrived much later than Aria, there was no guard to stop us from entering the city.
By all appearances the city seems to have resumed normal operation, assuming that they took special measures against a dragon to begin with.
The city itself though…
Um, how do I describe this…
Picture a phone's number pad, where 1 starts on the top left corner and ends at 9 on the bottom right in a three by three grid. Zero's beneath 8, and all that.
One would be the main entrance to the city. There are smaller entrances but we don't care about those at the present. It's very open, and is probably the mustering ground for when the levy needs to be raised.
Zero would be Dragonsreach.
Four and seven are the areas with the shops you see in-game.
Five is the area with the Big Tree (and What's-His-Face preaching constantly).
Six is rich people housing, basically.
Eight is the Cloud District.
Nine is the Companions and other guild services.
Now obviously I'm only marking down the parts I recognize. I've glazed over the other shops, residences, and services that exist in each of those zones for the sake of expediency. Also, obviously, the zones aren't that cleanly divided, but this is a good place to start.
You seem to have missed two numbers.
Two and three are rather poor sectors. Like…actual, slummy, this-is-where-poor-people-live poor.
So, in a way, 2-3 are the low wealth areas, 4-7 are medium wealth areas, and 8-9-0 are high wealth areas, with 1 and 5 being neutral (makes sense, since one's military and the other's religious). And of course the entire area slopes upward towards Dragonsreach.
I'm gonna get a lot of cardio traveling this place, I can just tell.
After entering the town, we unload our stuff and visit a few general goods traders.
We pawn off everything we don't want (we as in the group in general) and we're all a little lighter of foot and heavier of wallet for it.
For me personally, I made about 200 gold after pawning everything I wanted to sell. Not a bad haul if I do say so myself.
I then promptly spent that gold on getting that spellbook identified…and on renting a spot in a warehouse for the large stone tablet.
The large warehouse is divided into smaller compartments, so it's not like we just chucked it in a spot in the corner or whatever.
It's waay too conspicuous to carry around, so I'll fetch it later when I have to. If it gets stolen…I'll still fetch it later, just with more blood involved.
The book, though.
It is a frostbite spellbook. Like, the ice version of Flames. That one. The one that's definitely not worth the 100 gold it took to identify it.
On the plus side it's not cursed or anything, so yay. I'll read it when I have time.
Following the shopping trip, we go our separate ways. The SS brothers made enough gold to pay off their bounty with a little maneuvering, and Team Riverwood is going to spend a day in Whiterun to party it up.
We respectfully decline because we're poor and need to look around the city.
For the time being, we limited our movement range within sectors 4 and 7 so as to save time. 2 and 3 are also too dangerous to just poke around, and we're not rich enough to Go To The Cloud District Very Often.
Anyhow, since I'm not sure how long I'll be in Whiterun, having a source of income would be nice.
Also I want to learn and abuse my crafting shenanigans.
…
After an hour of looking around and getting our bearings, we find Warmaiden's.
It's a little harder to find compared to the game, where it was pretty much the first thing you saw on the way in…but it's still pretty easy to find. Whiterun is just Fucking Huge™ at the moment.
I also found the Drunken Huntsman (the bow shop directly opposite of Warmaiden's).
How long did that take you?
More than I care to admit, though to be fair there are more houses between the two shops than in game, where there were…uh, zero.
Anyway.
The shop is…probably a bit bigger than it is in game, I can't really make the comparison. She has all of her amenities outdoors (forge, smelter, grindstone, armor beating table) and is, indeed, talking with a man dressed in Imperial armor.
Unfortunately, since the roads are full of nonessential memory gobbling civilians, we don't hear their conversation. Though we could guess from the smith lady's body language that what was being asked of her was likely not to her liking.
We wait for the man in armor to go out of earshot before engaging.
I really wish I remembered her name. "Excuse me." I say politely.
"Yeah?" She's a bit less polite. "If you're looking to buy something, go inside." She says curtly and turns to her…um…wow that's a lot of swords.
Chance…except not. "I'm looking for someone to teach me a little smithing." Let's be honest about this. "And it looks like you can use an extra pair of hands."
"You're not wrong about that." Smith lady sighs in exasperation. "What's Battle-Born thinking, ordering that many swords on short notice?"
The door to Warmaiden's opens and a big bear of a man comes out. I know who this is, and I also don't know who this is.
"We're not the only ones he's ordering from." Smith Lady's husband says and sees us. He offers a friendly handshake. "Ulfberth War-Bear, nice to meet you; and this is my wife and better half, Adrianne Avenicci."
I take the handshake. "Ash; pleased to meet you both."
Avenicci…Adrianne, immediately asks the obvious. "So you have no experience working with steel, and yet want to start by helping me on an order?" Also, she's gonna be Adrianne since 'Avenicci' is her Father and the Steward In Dragonsreach.
I nod. "I feel like as long as I'm not doing the actual sword crafting I should do just fine."
"And I feel like you're not good at thinking things through." Adrianne folds her arms and leans against one of her shop's wooden pillars.
"Who knows, maybe he'll do fine." Ulf…ok, no. War-Bear chuckles. "I think that kind of spirit should get a try, at least."
"Mhm." Adrianne grabs a…unbladed shortsword? It's just a sheet of steel. She tosses it my way. "Get your ass on the grindstone, let's see if you can follow orders." She says with a smirk.
Success! Thank you, someone else's marriage. "Aye aye."
…
With Adrianne's teaching, we put our labor into putting the edge into three short swords.
Sword one was a horrific failure. I put too much stress on it (or something) and it snapped in half.
"Good thing that was a failed piece." Adrianne says after some time dressing us down. "Or else I'd be charging you."
Sword two was…ok. I don't think I put enough pressure on it so the blade ended up not holding much of an edge.
"Good enough to cut butter, if you had a year to spend on such a strenuous task." Adrianne had commented.
Sword three was juuust right. I'll call it Goldilocks.
"Not bad." Adrianne gave her assessment after our thirty minutes of instruction-following. "Good, now do the rest of them." She gestures to a pile of edgeless swords.
It…I thought it was a pile of scrap metal just lying next to the shop.
Huh.
"Have fun." War-Bear says with a grinning smirk and I'm now very sure the only reason he supported me was to foist off this work on me.
As if to hammer the point home, he raises a mug to our endeavors and slink back into the store.
Son of a bitch. Thank you for getting my foot through the door, but son of a bitch all the same.
"He's a sly one." Adrianne smirks at her shop's closed door. "Now get to it."
…
…
…
We spend the rest of the day sharpening swords.
Adrianne sometimes sharpens, sometimes crafts. She has the harder job by far.
Still, I think I got pretty decent after the tenth sword or so. I can't really describe the methodology since it feels more…innate, rather than learned.
Yay for the perk, I guess?
Either way, according to what the Imperial army's armament requires, they want their swords to have slightly broader edges in favor of a stabbier point.
Broader edges and finer point compared to a stock "Nord" steel sword.
As for the crafting itself, once in a while I'd feel really good about a sword, and I think the resulting weapon would have a better finish than normal. Again, putting this down to the crafting perk's effect.
…the sword itself didn't look any different, and I can't just look at it and go "yep, this one's (Superior), good work" which is a bit sad. Hopefully I'm not full of shit and the swords are actually good.
Anyhoo…
We're getting paid for this tomorrow, if the swords are of an acceptable quality and the shipment gets accepted.
Shouldn't we be getting paid for our time spent?
You'd think so, but if the shipment is considered too low quality she'd have to spend time fixing the mistakes, which would be bad, and cut into her profits. Also she's basically doing us a favor, so I didn't want to push the issue too hard.
Either way, experience…experience…
We find our way into an inn, order some food, and take a table in the corner of the room.
Ok. Status.
Poof. We study as we eat.
Mm…skills in the body tree (the one with breathing, walking, etc.) all changed in some ways.
Crafting though…sewing, tailoring, small-object-making (cloth)…
…this is a very finely divided down tree. Wow.
…Ah ha.
"Imperial Short Sword Upgrading", with an illegible hex graph. ISSU.
…but this means that I've only trained the ability to upgrade that specific weapon.
Yikes, does that mean I only get better making dragon armor if I make multiple suits of dragon armor?
…no, no, not quite.
It looks like the short sword upgrading skill bled into other forms of short sword upgrading. To a lesser extent it also bled into short sword crafting (and even less into other forms of weapon crafting).
I can't read by how much, but by virtue of there being a smaller hex compared to ISSU, which has a bigger hex, I assume there has been experience spillover. Fuck this UI.
The steel used in imperial swords is considered "Imperial Steel" and also bleeds into working with steel, other materials, so on, so forth…my fucking god this tree is dense.
What else?
…? I have…3 skill points.
So I levelled? Does level exist? Can I see my vitals?
…no? Have I tried this before?
Oh well.
Still…three skill points, huh? Hmm…
So…do I wanna be a crafting munchkin, or do I want actual combat performance?
…or do I go for leadership and run parties of companions rather than do the hard work myself?
I mean, given how Skyrim works getting into fights is basically going to be a given, and if I keep spelunking or something I'm going to need something to fall back on.
…or I can go full America Mode and have the best equipment available.
Decisions, decisions…
…Well, for starters, I need to eat and a place to live, so I need money. In that respect, I should hone what I'm good at, which is crafting.
Let's see then…
We sift through skills related to tailoring, smithing, and carpentry. And maybe alchemy.
After some time…
Ok, I've decided on two skills. I'll leave the last point free for the time being.
First is: Reinforcement (Tailor). Like the name suggests, it's a tailoring skill that "makes items crafted through tailoring stronger". Given the lack of specifics I assume the bonus is somewhat random and (maybe) scales with my skill level, whatever that may be.
Second is: Replacement. It's basically Fallout's repair mechanic, where you can sacrifice weapons of the same type to make another weapon more workable. It's also a bit like Fallout 4's weapon customization mechanic, where you can swap weapon parts to make them different. In my case, it means I can retrofit equipment with better material…which in itself isn't really a feat or anything. As far as I can tell, this skill just makes it so that I will never fail a replacement job…within limits, I think. I don't know what those limits currently are.
Disclaimer: we don't actually know how it works and are thus guessing to the best of our ability.
I wish I had more detail on these two skills, but for now they seem like good picks.
I think we can safely assume that we picked two durability-extending skills.
I mean…I'm poor, and poor people make do with what they have, which generally involves repairing rather than creating.
I'm totally going to reinforce a wallet so hard it'll stand up to dragon breath, though.
Like "hey I know you're a firebreathing badass and all that but look at how much rule screwing my money can do"
And then you can happily burn to a crisp afterwards.
Yep. I might wanna seriously examine the feasibility of making all my stuff fireproof, though.
…Well, that comes later.
We finish our meal, buy a bed, and go to sleep.
…
[Next Day, Third Person Camera]
Note: for the purposes of this story Skyrim smithing time is not as long as real life smithing time, though it's definitely more than 'instant'. We blame the Fire Salts.
The person requisitioning swords from Adrianne, Idolaf Battle-Born, went to pick up his shipment from Warmaiden's on the morning.
He had placed the order more than a month ago, and had become a little…agitated, waiting for the finished goods. The Battle-Borns were not making this delivery as a donation; they had a contact with the Imperial Legion that had hinted at arms shortages in the southern legion near Markarth, and were requisitioning gear from anywhere they can.
Hence, Idolaf figured he could capitalize on the issue, support the cause he believed in, and make a decent penny from it, too. He placed orders within all smiths in Whiterun (except for the ones controlled by house Gray-Mane) for a grand total of 1000 swords. If that order wasn't fulfilled fast enough, the chance to deliver would disappear, and he'd be stuck with boxes of swords and no way to turn a profit on them.
Giving 200 to Adrianne might have been too much, but it never hurt to show favoritism towards the daughter of the city's Steward. The smith in question might not have called it favoritism, but Idolaf doesn't sweat those kinds of details.
Regardless, she finished her job with distinction, and now Idolaf was going to collect with a bit of a spring in his step.
He arrives at Warmaiden's with a team of twenty men in tow, all carrying baskets of wood, leathers, and straps. They attracted a few stares on their jaunt through the town, and some of them were now curiously peering after the entourage through the shop's windows.
"Hello, Adrianne. Ulfberth." He greets the couple upon entering their shop. "Fine day for business."
"Hello, Idolaf." Ulfberth replies politely and brings up four crates of naked swords from behind the store counter. He sets them on the counter with a light 'oof'. "Fine day for business." He chuckles.
"I have your swords right here." Adrianne taps the crates. "But the Empire will have to sheathe them itself."
"That's fine." Idolaf had no issues with Adrianne keeping her name from being recognized as an imperial supplier—though her skill makes herself known in her work anyway. "Do you mind if I check them?"
"Go right ahead." Adrianne says without any care.
Idolaf doesn't doubt her skill, but he has been working with the lesser known smiths, and…well, they're not all that good. He picks a sword from one of the crates and gives it a test swing. It feels strong and supple, the distinguished mark of Adrianne's handiwork.
Some of the onlookers, a pair of small children (6 years old or so) gasp and giggle and mimic his action with twigs of their own.
Idolaf nods in satisfaction and hands the sword over to one of his men. The young man sets down his carried materials, measures the sword, and gets to work crafting a simple sheath out of wood and leather.
"I really wish you wouldn't do that inside our shop." Ulfberth says with a light laugh. He does, however, go to the back room and take out little stools for the team of workers, so they can sit and focus on their work without worrying about bruising their rears on the stone floor.
With a nod of thanks, Idolaf continues to pass swords from the crates to his workers. He takes test swings with the occasional piece, until he clears the first and second crates.
Some of the onlookers, definitely curious, have wandered into the shop. A few crafters overlook the young men building sheaths and give them a few tips here and there. Others leave, having to attend to their own duties.
Idolaf's hand reaches into the third crate and stops short.
Ulfberth notes the frown on his brow. "Something wrong?" He asks.
Idolaf shakes his head slightly and picks the sword out from the rest. The blade presents a strange feeling that he couldn't identify, and, holding it up close, he examines it with a much keener eye.
"We had some outside help with these swords." Ulfberth explains. "Some of these may be from the well-meaning greenhorn. He put the edges on them."
"Is that so?" Idolaf says distractedly, his attention still focused on the strange sword. He gives himself a little more space to swing the weapon, squares his shoulders, and gives the sword a proper Battle-Born swing.
Whatever that may be.
He definitely felt something. He gives the sword a second swing, then a third…but he doesn't feel it anymore.
"There's something…strange, about this weapon." Idolaf says cautiously and passes it onto a worker. "Give it special care." He orders. The worker nods and sets about building the sheath while also taking out some strand silver to adorn the sheathe when it is complete.
"I don't believe that sword was finished by a greenhorn." Idolaf explains with a slight quiver of joy in his voice. "You've outdone yourself, Warmaiden Adrianne."
The peanut gallery gasps softly, with a little bit of polite, "I don't want to be in the way" clapping.
"Thank you for the compliment, but I do believe that the honors go to the greenhorn." Adrianne says warmly, but firmly. "My works are sturdy and rugged, with no tricks behind them."
Idolaf doesn't really care. Since the person who put the edge on the blade was a novice working under Adrianne, and Adrianne has no apprentices at the moment, it follows that he was new, unskilled, and worked entirely within the bounds of the advice she gave.
Which was indeed the case.
Thus, if the blade was finished in such a way that he can't discern the difference between master and student, isn't that a reflection on the skills of the master? On how well the master can instruct her students? And, of course, a master who readily gives away accolades to its earner instead of greedily taking it for herself is to be respected as a woman of strong morals, and stronger ethics.
But god damn that was a good feeling sword.
Now, rather eagerly, Idolaf gave each sword a test swing. Once in a while, he'd get that strange feeling in his hands, and the sword that caused it was given the preferential treatment of a better-looking sheath.
The peanut gallery, now visibly charged, followed Idolaf's expression with a slight titter every time he found one such sword.
Ulfberth made a mental note to see if he can keep this greenhorn—whoever he was—around for a bit longer. Unusual skill like that is good for business, and better he than his competitors, right?
With the discovery of these 'special weapons', the entire process of sheathing the swords became something more than just a task. Subtly, the workers competed with each other to make the best sheaths, so when one such specialties appeared, they would be the one to receive and put their mark upon it in the form of signing the sheathes in some rather conspicuous places.
Though most people agreed that Idolaf was probably overreacting; the workers themselves didn't feel anything odd from putting their hands on the weapons.
Soon, Idolaf ran low on the amount of swords. Feeling like the specials were finally over (he hasn't gotten one in, like, twenty swords), he rather lazily picked up the second to last sword in the box. He closes his hand around the hilt, and he takes a sharp draw of breath.
Ulfberth, hearing this, looks up to see beads of sweat forming on Idolaf's forehead. As he watches, Idolaf picks up the completely nondescript sword with an almost reverential air.
This sword…it felt different. It didn't feel like it had been done the same way as the others. It felt…
Idolaf, while never exactly a devout follower of the eight, paid his respects to the gods. He knew—but never believed—that disturbing their sacred areas would lead to punishment. With this sword in his hand, he had the distinct feeling that he was now able to truly describe the idea of sacrilege.
Just holding this sword feels wrong for some reason. Like…it was made for someone, and he was not that someone. And the divines would smite the shit out of him for having the gall to lay his hands on this blade.
Shaking off the (admittedly absurd) feeling, he swallows, squares his shoulders, and gives the sword a swing.
Everyone in the room, who had stopped their work to observe Idolaf getting yet another sword boner (9th one so far), distinctly heard the soft, otherworldly hum that seemed to come from the blade.
Various mutations of "holy fucking shit" were uttered in hushed tones.
In the silence, Idolaf clears some room, readies the weapon, and enters into a Battle-Born weapon training routine. He makes clear, wide swings, short thrusts, defensive parries, countering swings against an imaginary enemy. He acts with practice and experience, each move going exactly as far as it should and no further, holding each stance for as long as he should, and no longer.
And each time his weapon moved, it emitted that same, ringing hum.
When Idolaf finished his dance, the silence was changed somehow, as if everyone in attendance was entranced.
"I…I can't take this weapon." Idolaf says with a cracking voice, surprised at how loud he sounded. He coughs and tries again. "I can't take this weapon."
"What's wrong with it?" Adrianne asks in faux-steadiness. She had a pretty good guess given his performance.
"This sword…this was meant for someone, or something." Idolaf replies in a tone that was almost reverential. "And I'm not that person. Georg."
One of the younger workers shoots up to his feet. "Yes, sir?"
"Alert Alena and tell her to get the workshop ready." Idolaf orders him. "And bring the finest silk we have on your way back."
Alena is a master craftswoman of a carpentry/jewelry variety. She is also a retainer of House Battle-Born, and is specifically consulted for jobs of an extremely important nature. Reason being: she has her own workshop and takes orders just like any other craftsperson (albeit with a high asking price), and even if the asker is the head of the Battle-Born, they better have a damn good reason to tell her to clear her place.
Thus it is perfectly understandable that Georg walked out of her shop (The Silver Hammer) with a bruised forehead. He silently accepts that it could have been worse than the incomplete jewelry box she tossed at his head.
She must've been surprised at the order too, he thinks, and goes home to the mansion for some silk.
…
[1st Person Camera]
…
It's now noon.
I spent the morning looking around the city to get my bearings a little better, and…
I don't think I fully understood how…widespread, the Battle-Born and Grey-Mane family influences were in Whiterun. There are entire blocks of the city cordoned off entirely for just them, and judging by the look of foot traffic, simply being endorsed by either of the two families will get you a shitton of money.
…Of course, the traffic is exclusively tied to one section of the city (either the BB or GM side), and there are increased odds of problems occurring if they're together, but eh…
We think this as we watch a young Battle-Born and a young Grey-Mane duke it out in front of a tavern. It's less "Romeo against Tybalt" and more "Capulet Extra A versus Montague Hired Hand Number 26".
…but overall it's probably worth it if you know how to spin their rivalry to your advantage. Hmm.
So with that establishing information out of the way, I found my way into a general goods store (The "Happy Merchant") and bought some more cloth, and got to do a little more sewing.
I just realized that I now have the power to add lacy fucking frills on everything I put my hands on.
…I just need a pretty woman who has enough unwavering trust in me to put on the lace-poisoned article of clothing.
Good luck with that.
No kidding. If the companions you can mod into Skyrim knew what the players were doing to them they'd kill the Dragonborn on sight.
…or is it just me that uses those kinds of mods?
Anyways, the cloth is a bit coarse but it's durable, and I'm pretty tired of wearing this stupid sack-like tunic.
So let's make something I can wear.
An hour later…
I…
I think this is a scarf?
Maybe?
If I turn my head?
We turned some of our cloth into a longer piece of cloth.
…Silver lining, the stitching work to meld the strips of cloth together is impeccable. It's too bad the entire thing doesn't do anything.
Onwards!
Two hours later.
…well I learned to make laces. I guess.
We turn our handiwork over, examine it in detail, and frown.
This is a lacy…wrist…band? I think? I salvaged the materials I just wasted, so it's like a triple layer wristband. It's very…coarse.
…Can I learn skills to refine clothing? Because I would love to have a nice, thick cotton shirt for when we invariably go up to Windhelm or something.
Hmm.
Onwards!
Three hours later.
Ooh ok this is a pair of lacy panties we are not showing this to anyone ever
Three hours and five minutes later
I should note that I was trying to make a glove.
In some ways, you succeeded. Three hours and ten minutes later.
And it wasn't even silky negligee either. Like…it's shitty fabric beaten into the form of seductive underwear. It's probably waay too uncomfortable to wear. Like if you wore paper towels around your privates.
…I need to hire a young woman.
Sketchy-as-fuck comment of the day.
No kidding.
Four hours later.
Ok! This is not bad.
My finished product is pretty bad, but the past four hours have taught me a lot.
First: never trust my instincts. Going by the look of this travesty of a learning experience, if I try to make a piece through the use of the perk (so without any input of my own) I will quickly veer off and attempt to create a random item that I can make with the materials I am currently using.
So, for example, if I were to try and make a piece of clothing with two pieces of leather, trying to do it by perk means I make two items out of one piece of leather each. Which isn't all that useful, all things considered.
Thus, if I want to make something specific, I need to apply myself to it, get to…about the 60 percent mark? And then let the perk take over for small sections at a time.
Or else make small changes as the work goes on. Either way, I can't just let my bullshit perk powers handle the workload for me.
Also, I got another skill point!
I'll hold on to it for the time being because I don't have any pressing needs. I'm not much of the "I have a build from the start" type of person. Except when it comes to Stealth Archer.
…I should go Stealth Archer.
Have you no shame, sir? Also, what is your finished product?
Right. My finished product is a simple collarless long-sleeve shirt. No frills, no extras…not very good either, but it's better than this ragged piece of burlap sack I'm wearing.
We change in the middle of the street.
Oooh my god this feels so much better. I feel so much richer, too.
…though I can't say I'm very fond of the drab olive coloring.
…It's the afternoon now, so maybe we should go check and see if we're gonna get paid today.
We collect our stuff, collect our bearings, and find our way into Warmaiden's.
…? Who's the kid?
We catch Georg just as he returns with his thing of silk. He barges his way past a gaggle of people gathered around the shop's front door.
…did…I'm at the right place, right?
Now I'm feeling a little confused, so let's stick around for a little bit longer to see what happens.
So we do. After a few minutes, Georg comes back out with something wrapped around in silk.
I think it's a sword. Is this common?
Some of the civilians walking the streets had stopped and stared when Georg showed up with silk, because it's not exactly a common thing to be walking the streets with. Their staring didn't decrease any when he walked out with the sword. Some of them tailed him for a few steps until he went upstairs into the rich people section.
Hmm. So what was that all about?
We knock politely and step into Warmaiden's premises.
Uh…huh.
There are nineteen guys sitting on stools, making sheaths for swords. Is this normal?
Uldbear is—wow it's been less than 24 hours and I've already forgotten his name—Uldbear War Bear is manning the counter, with Adrianne and the old guy in Imperial Armor standing around…is the old guy crying?
Did I walk in on something?
"There he is." Uldbear grins upon seeing us. "Idolaf, this is Ash. Ash, this is Idolaf Battle-Born, the man you were working for." He introduces.
Ok… "Nice to meet you." I bow slightly. "What…uh…what was that all about?" I gesture to the open door.
"It seems that Idolaf here took a liking to the piece you finished." Adrianne says lightly. "He's taking possession of it."
Idolaf is…appraising me. Going by his eyebrows, he doesn't like what he sees.
"You seem to be far too young to have created such a skilled piece." He says after a fashion. "I'm surprised."
I think he's talking about the one that came out really well. "I was surprised too. That was a happy accident, I think."
"Hm." Idolaf hums. He's thinking of something. "I'm interested." He says after a few seconds of confused silence. "I'm going to commission a sword for myself." He stares us straight in the eyes. "And you're going to make it."
Ahahahaha "Sir that is a terrible idea." I say quickly. "I have yet to handle making a sword."
"Now you have a chance." Idolaf says lightly. "Adrianne, I'll buy 1000 gold worth of materials. Give it to Young Ash here and teach him how to craft a good sword."
Um. "Well, if you're paying for my privilege, I'll do my best." I bow. "Do you have any specific requirements?"
"Give me something that suits me." He says with finality.
Ok, but the entire point of me asking was because I wanted to know what would suit you.
.
.
.
{ === + === }
Author Notes:
And thus starts the non-combat section.