{ === + === }
Some ten minutes later.
…Hoo boy, this has turned into something fierce. Ok.
We're out by the shop's smelter with Adrianne and Idolaf.
"Idolaf isn't one for frills." Adrianne instructs me. "And he won't take anything that's not good Imperial Steel." She snaps her fingers.
War-Bear brings around a trolley of…rocks.
I'm guessing that's ore.
Adrianne has a small smirk playing on her face. "We're going to have you start from scratch." She glances at Idolaf. "To be honest, 1000 gold isn't enough for a good sword, especially if I have to teach you how to make it on top of that."
How sly.
Idolaf shrugs. "If the end product is good, I don't mind covering the difference."
Huh. Does that mean he's here just to see what I can do?
Or else he's taking the cost as headhunting.
That's true too…if I live up to his expectations then I get to be indicted into clan Battle-Born, or something.
Well…for the time being, let's focus on doing my job right.
Adrianne escorts us to the smelter in earnest. It's very hot.
…so we really do have to start from the very beginning.
Alright then, let's do this.
She shows us how to work the smelter. Most of it requires getting the smelter to be hot and continue to be hot.
It's…um…very not-involved. I feel like there may be a little magic involved with the smelter, but since I know nothing about Earth Smelting I probably shouldn't judge. Still…we can rig the system with our Skill Points, so let's totally do that and have zero shame in developing hitherto undiscovered talents.
We burn our skill point to take Refining Mastery.
The perk increases the amount of ingots we get from refining as well as the quality. I think this perk also passively makes the smelter hotter, too.
Fuckin' Fire Salts, man.
I think Adrianne was a little confused when we ended up with one more Iron Ingot than she had expected.
She confiscated it after we got it.
Sad, really.
Anyhoo, after following Adrianne's instructions for an hour and then working on our own for two and a half more (because she still needs to run a business), we come out with around 20 Iron Ingots and 30 Steel Ingots for a total of 55.
We're going to use Iron to learn to forge a sword, and then almost all of the steel to learn to work with steel. In effect, we get 2 chances at making the actual sword.
55?
5 of the ingots are "Refined Steel" ingots, and they're earmarked for the final crafting process. I may be shooting myself in the foot with using different materials before practicing with it, but the steel is about 90% similar so it should be fine.
There is absolutely no basis for us believing that the steel is 90% similar. How did we get this 'refined steel' anyway?
As it turns out, the Replacement perk could be used during smelting as well. In this case, it lets me re-forge an ingot and exchange it for a definitely superior result…so long as I clearly define what I want the result to be (and actively work towards it). In the case of 'replacing' steel, I replaced impurities within the steel with carbon.
Now, I don't have the type of bullshit vision to tell that the atomic makeup of the steel has changed, but I can tell that the refined steel feels better in my hands than the non-refined one. Based on that, I assume mission success.
Now, the hard part.
…Actually not quite the hard part, since Adrianne has some other duties to attend to. So I'll be coming back tomorrow. She's reserving the forge all day for the teaching/training job.
So I have to find something else to do for the few hours until nighttime.
…Let's learn us some alchemy!
We go looking for an alchemy shop.
In order to dodge the handful of people tailing us because they were curious, we find a back alley shop that looks reasonably upstanding (read: no blood) and slips inside.
...well.
We take stock of the place.
This place is frightfully bare. There exists no counter, the amount of materials in here is practically nonexistent (based on what I can see at a glance), and…
We stoop to give the ground a better look.
…this place has been abandoned for some time. No footsteps on the ground besides ours.
There is a stairway going upwards, so let's go that way and have a look-see.
We go upstairs.
The upstairs is basically just an attic…makes sense, this building was pretty small from the outside. There's a bed, cabinet, and chest…and no privacy whatsoever.
Also there are no people here.
Next…
We look around some more.
…ah ha, there's a trap door downwards.
So we go down.
Mm…I miss conveniently lit torches. I really do.
We keep the trap door open for some light.
The basement is small and short. It's probably smaller than the house's floor area. It, like the above level, is also dreadfully barren. There are a few boxes littered here and there, but that's about it.
…so…am I squatting? Is that what's gonna happen? Are we gonna pull a Morrowind and just take over an abandoned dwelling?
We climb out of the basement and return to the main floor.
The basement isn't even that deep either. If the ladder wasn't there I could just pull myself out of it, no problem.
We're about six feet tall. The basement is five feet deep.
Not a very large storage spot, that's for sure.
Anyhoo…let's take stock and see what we can use in here.
We scurry around for twenty minutes.
…It's very difficult to get a feel of what's in here when everything looks like some kind of grass. I need someone to teach me.
We hear the doorway of the shop open.
Huh.
We stand in plain view of whoever is entering and make absolutely no effort to defend ourselves.
And then we die like a dumbass.
…What? I'm totally dead. Like, super, duper, this commentary is just in your
Joke's gone stale.
Bah.
The entrant is likely the owner of...the…shop…?
…Did Aria get her hair dyed? And get shorter?
The (likely) shop owner who has entered the scene is carrying a basket of herbs and flowers and such. Upon seeing us standing in the middle of the store, she stops, frowns at us, and then shuts the door behind her with her foot.
"Who are you?" She asks, confused.
"A probable customer." I reply, also confused. "Do you run this place?"
S…the fuck is she doing
She seems to take special relish in the idea that she actually runs this place. Judging by the look on her face, she's gone off somewhere into her imaginations.
Once more with feeling: the fuck? "Oy." I say rudely.
She 'sees' us again, draws herself to her full height, and with the most confident and self-assured tone in her voice, declares that "Yes, I do run this place."
Her full height is, at best, five feet tall.
As far as other physical characteristics go…slightly-mane-y red hair that goes to her neck…it looks very fluffy from here. Dirty working clothes (heavy full length dress), she's been out in the field, no surprises there…not much visible muscle mass to speak of, and a very Aria-like presence.
'Aria-like' in the sense that she looks like a doll. Judging by her previous reaction, I'm going to go on a limb and guess that she's quite new at all of this.
"This shop doesn't seem like it's very…popular." I say slowly.
"It's because I only recently moved in." The girl replies in a huff, obviously offended. She wears her heart on her sleeve it seems. "I'll make it huge in two weeks." She says firmly.
Hmm. "Recently? How recently?"
"Well, like…erm." Her eyes dart around. "Like a week ago." She…lies. Very badly at that.
…let's let that slide, shall we? "Are you an alchemist?" I ask politely.
She puffs up again. If her hand were free I would bet money they'd be perched confidently on her hips. Like…full bravado pose, or something.
She's incredibly easy to read. I feel sorry now.
She then puffs down again. "Kind of." She admits. "I only recently learned how."
…how old are you?
We ask that.
"I'm sixteen. Why?" She glares at me.
Huh. "You have your own shop at sixteen? I'm impressed." I'm genuinely surprised.
…in the same vein, how old are we?
Ash is 25, Jake is 28, and Aria is 20.
Cool.
Upon us being surprised at this girl's proprietary prowess, she gets a prideful look on her face again.
"B-of course!" She puffs up again, too. "I'm a prodigy, after all!"
…so I can't learn from her, basically. Well, having a friend around isn't bad. "Nice. So what do you make?"
"Mostly drinks." She puffs down again. "I can make potions too!" She says in a whiny tone.
Drinks, huh? "Cool. What kind of potions?"
"Erm." She starts to lie again. "Good ones."
We blink and sigh at the terrible and completely unnecessary lie.
…oh my lord. I want out of this conversation. "You seem nice. I'll visit again some time." I have zero faith in my ability to remember this place on the map.
"Sure, sure." She sets down her basket of herbs and begins to sort them. "Come spend some money some time."
She sounds a bit hurt.
…well now I feel guilty. "Are you willing to part with some of your herbs?"
We spent about ten gold on some fluffy cotton.
She tried so hard to talk up the cotton that I couldn't refuse.
So basically her haggling was so bad it spun right around and became good again?
Yeah, basically.
…now the big question. On the scale of "Vanilla Skyrim" to "Modded (Female) Character", where is she?
She falls heavily into the modded spectrum, which…I guess isn't all that weird.
Hang on.
We take the rest of our daylight hours lollygagging around the temple district.
If I went into the Cloud District and just wandered around, I would be detained, so we're not doing that.
Still, it seems that my suspicions were confirmed.
As a general rule of thumb, the rich tend to be more 'Modded In', while the poor tend to be more 'Skyrim Vanilla'. Of the people that I've seen from the Cloud District and the richer quarters, all of them tend to be very well dressed, and many of them have physical features that imply a life of relative comfort…generally to the tune of a little fairer skin.
Life in Skyrim is still pretty rough, so the whole Fat Nobility thing is nonexistent…but I think we can be pretty sure that, if you're pretty, you're rich.
…I feel very sad now.
Either way, this means that the girl and Aria came from reasonably wealthy families, or at least had lives in places where things were not so harsh.
Aria can be excused as being, y'know, the Dragonborn.
So what's That Girl's story?
You never got her name?
…no, not really.
As expected of us, really…so what of her other traits?
Unusually large bust size for her height, very pretty eyes…and, going by our previous exchange, probably more than just a little too optimistic when it comes to life.
…though I get the feeling any lady raised in wealth is probably not as shockingly optimistic as she was.
Is that just a polite way of saying 'air-headed'?
…yes.
Anyway, we spent our time people-watching (and woodcarving) so it's dark now.
After meeting the pretty girl I didn't really have the heart to sew. Every time I tried her chest popped up in my head and it just felt really dirty.
So we're rubbing our wood instead.
…
Ok you know what fuck you inner self
ANYWAY I figured learning carpentry would help when we invariably make the switch to stealth archer and need to make our own kickass bows.
So I'm learning by vigorously rubbing small wood before moving onto bigger ones.
Har har it's another penis joke
I've spent my time so far whittling down branches to see just how thin I can get it before it breaks. I'm not very good at this, so they break relatively early. Still, I earned enough experience for one more skill point.
Which, of course, I'm holding onto for tomorrow.
So with that, we buy some food at the same place we frequented last night.
…?
It's the girl from before. Was she here last night? Her hair is really noticeable.
She was, though the active mind never noticed since he was too busy playing with his status screen.
…judging by the way people move around her, she has a reputation but is not particularly popular.
Hmm.
"Yo, Gramps." We ask the old man (Nord) sitting at our table (uninvited). "Who's the redhead?"
He follows our line of sight to see who we're talking about. "Oh, Meek?"
The fuck kind of name is Meek? "Meek?"
"Yeah." The old Nord smirks. "Just look."
We watch the poor girl get pushed around a bit by a group of drunk folk.
Meek in the sense that she's basically backed down on every confrontation so far…yeah, sure, I guess. "But why the nickname?"
"Because she'll do anything if you push her for it." The Old Nord says with visible distaste. "Damn girl has no backbone."
…worrying. Also not really my problem.
Plus, I know I've seen brothels littered around Whiterun. If the patrons around here really wanted to get laid…they'd just go there. Less odds of getting your ass kicked by the barkeep, too.
'Meek' gets pushed into singing a tune. She can't really carry a tune. Not "wild dogs invade Whiterun" kind of incompetent, mind, just a little below average.
"Hmph." Old Nord doesn't approve.
He catches our frown.
"It is unbecoming of a resident of Skyrim to simply do as someone else asks." Old Nord explains with just a little bit of derisiveness. "Especially for a woman."
I guess. I haven't been here long enough to pick up on their customs or whatever.
…though I do agree that the sight of this girl doing as she's told is quite distasteful. Also I think I see where the Stormcloak spirit came from.
We watch her badly sing some more tunes.
I should note: she's basically bending to the will of a group of maybe five people, tops. They seem to make it their business to humiliate the poor girl for their own amusement, to the immense displeasure of everybody else. The room temperature dropped when they started.
But the reason why people are turning a blind eye? She's getting paid.
So…yeah. It sucks, but technically she is roping herself into this, which is why though everybody's annoyed, nobody's stepping up.
…Hmm.
We go into our status window.
…
…ah ha.
I'll be blowing my skill point for "melee foresight." An actual combat perk.
It feels a little cowardly to take a perk and then pick a fight.
Victory above all else.
The girl gets roped into playing an instrument. But before she can start…
"I think that's far enough." I say clearly and loudly. Her warbling did manage to keep the entire place quiet, so that's a plus. "You're killing the mood in here, gentlemen."
"Go back to your sewing." The lead of the men waves me off, to the laughter of his compatriots.
I wasn't sewing.
It's more about your appearance than your job.
Oh right. "I would, but the lot of you are ruining the peace and quiet." I have no business trying to intimidate, since I don't have the voice for it. "Why don't you go roll with the dogs and pretend to be the big men you think you are." So we default to 'taunt'.
"Oh really?" Asshole Leader smirks. "Who's going to make us?"
Hmm…
We pick up a piece of meat from our plate and toss it at him. It lands halfway between our tables with a wet-sounding slap that seems to resound through the now silent room.
I smile. "Run along now."
I have basically just picked a fight.
The asshole party stands up and walks menacingly towards our table.
No drawing swords, this is a barfight.
We stand.
…ooh, here it comes.
We feel, rather than see, the punch coming towards our face.
I think I'm about half a second ahead.
We duck and counter with a palm strike at the man's chin.
Good to see my human world skills carry over a little.
Our hit is far too shallow, and he only staggers back.
With an extremely loud yell that feels like it shouldn't come from someone as weedy as we are, we slam our fist into Asshole Leader's abdomen along with a strong step onto the ground.
He's pretty tough. My hand hurts. I think I hurt my hand more than I hurt his sternum. Ow.
"You shithead!" Asshole Leader snarls from three paces back. "Get him!"
"Uh-uh-uh." Old Nord interrupts. "Fights are one-on-one." He smirks. "If you want to brawl, though…" He gestures to the rest of the inn. They are kind of sick of their shit™ so…y'know.
Asshole leader grits his teeth and rushes us.
Let's make this one stick.
We cross counter his charge with the strongest punch to his chin that we can manage.
He goes down like a sack of terrible potatoes. It really helps when the other side is only good at brawling.
I grin. "Next." Have to make a good first impression!
We get into a stance and do the whole "beckoning with hand" thing, too.
…not keen to spend their time fighting, the rest of the asshole brigade hauls their leader to his feet and they make themselves scarce.
For our troubles, our bed for the night is free.
Yay…though the girl is suddenly nowhere to be seen.
Oh well.
…
[Next morning]
…
Our breakfast was free too. Neat!
With our hurried breakfast, we go to Warmaiden's to get our training in.
"About time." Adrianne smirks upon our arrival. "I thought the Forge was going to freeze."
We take the ribbing in good humor and get to business.
.
[Morning to Noon]
.
We manage to craft two swords in five attempts.
Three obviously were failures, in such spectacular ways that Adrianne was impressed. In the same way that you're impressed that a garbage fire can glow green, but impressed nonetheless.
We do recycle failures back to raw material, though the recovery rate is less than half.
As long as it's not zero I'm happy.
The two trainee works—Iron swords, both of them—were deemed good enough to finish, so we did.
Thoughts?
Mm…they feel shoddy. Like, really shoddy. I can't quite explain it yet.
We break for lunch and then continue onwards.
.
[Noon to Dusk]
.
Five successes out of seven, and I'm out of Iron.
Three are 'bad' works, and two are 'decent' works.
We've put edges on all of them, and War-Bear gives them a whack on some wooden training dummies.
…ooh. Ew.
The three bad works practically shatter on impact. The two shoddy works (from the morning batch) dig into the dummies but lose their edge almost immediately. We can see sparks of iron flaking off of the blade…yikes.
The two decent works do fine for a few hits, but quickly bends and becomes unusable.
"Good progress." Adrianne remarks. "At least they held for a few hits."
We smelt down the failed products to more Iron ingots (taking care to Replace them with higher concentrations of iron).
Mm…still, not a good showing for the first day.
We retire to our inn for the night to plan for the next day.
While making those swords, I felt as if the benefit being given by the Perk was being actively counteracted by…something. I don't really know what it was, but every time it flared up I'm sure the end process suffered.
Putting that aside, I'm sure we made tremendous progress for someone who's never crafted a sword before.
I got 4 skill points! That's as many as four ones!
And…that's…terrible?
That's a very dated joke, no? Anyways, we're taking…uh…
Steelworking (for better steel working), Swordcraft Mastery (for making better swords), Weaponsmithing Mastery (for better weapon making)…and we're keeping the last point free again.
I'm obviously trying to improve my chances of making fine swords here. I hope it…
We hear a knock on our door. We're currently resting in our room in the inn.
…helps…who is it? Oh. Right. "Who is it?"
We get up from our bed and grab our sword just in case.
"A visitor." We hear…oh, it's red-hair.
We open the door a little to peer out.
…she looks like she's fully expecting to sleep over, what with the pillow and all. "Can I help you?"
"Hi!" She whispers…in the happiest way I think I've ever heard someone whisper. "I'm staying over!"
…
Note how it was a statement of fact. "I'm sorry?"
"I got evicted, so I'm staying over." She says like it's the most natural thing in the world.
Also. "Evicted?"
"Merchant license violation." She mumbles. "Something about it being too dirty to be an apothecary."
…huh.
"Ok, but why this room specifically?" I don't own the place.
She grins brightly at us. "Because the innkeeper said I could stay in this room for free!"
…
Ok, you know what? I'm not going to question it.
"Yeah, knock yourself out." I sigh and pack my stuff (of which I don't really have a lot of in the first place).
I realize that this is probably meant to be...a nice thing? A shipping thing? From the innkeeper (who really is a nice woman) but I'm just not interested at the moment.
Also note: she treats our vacating of the room as if it was a given, and joyously flops onto the bed before immediately going to sleep.
I envy that kind of sleep speed.
We gently shut the door behind us and leave the resting quarters.
"Ah, you're up early." The innkeeper says upon sighting us. "Is there something I can help you with?"
We haven't gone to bed yet, if it isn't yet obvious.
I approach the counter to whisper/hiss. "Why did you send that…I actually don't know her name. Why did you send her to my room?" I demand, non-sequitur, and demand again.
"The lass's Mellow." The innkeeper smirks. "And I need to get her out of my hair."
Is that her name? Also, what?
"What do you mean?" I demand.
She pulls us closer in a somewhat menacing way. "Do you see the types she attracts? If she stays around here for one more night she'll bring my shop under."
Ok, but still. "Why me specifically?"
Her smirk turns…diabolical. "Because she likes you."
I…find that excessively difficult to believe. I find it easier to believe if I discount the possibility of, y'know, romantic attraction.
…ominous.
You find the idea of a pretty girl showing interest of any kind in you
Ominous, yes, pay attention
The inn matron turns serious. "I want you to take her off my hands, I don't care how."
I don't like this. "Or else?"
"Or else, pay up." She has a very…smug…expression on her face. So much for free room and board.
…fine.
We pay the 'debt' of 30 gold and leave.
…
So…now what?
…now we do the sensible thing.
We find a different inn and pay 10 gold for a room.
Funny how these things work out when you don't just have a single place to shop, no?
.
[Morning]
.
Was her name seriously Mellow? Like who the fuck names their kid Mellow?
Are we in any position to criticize?
…No, I guess not.
Anyhoo, time to go to work.
.
[Morning to Noon]
.
I make five swords, four of which were abject failures. Not as bad as Green Dumpster Fire, but still pretty bad.
Adrianne gave us free use of the forge for the morning, which allowed us to experiment. As the failures implied, the experimentation had some pretty high costs.
On the plus side, the last sword came out great.
"This is almost good enough to sell in my shop." Adrianne says approvingly. "I see those failures weren't in vain."
I wanted to try and do progressively dumber shit in order to make spiffier swords, so this batch of five is using a similar method to the Japanese method of 'folding'. Note that I know absolutely nothing about the actual technique of folding, so the similarity basically ends with the name and intention.
Now, I do know that the actual technique existed for the sake of making poor Japanese steel better. Beyond that though…
GLORIOUS NIPPON STEEL FOLDED 9000 TIMES
…Yeah. That's as much as I know.
In my case, I replace impurities in the sword with…uh…some mixture of Iron, Carbon, and Oxygen, during the heating process. As the failures can attest, it's not exactly something I can reliably do yet. The Perk abuse isn't really something that I can define through just experience, so…yeah. A bit of a trial-and-error thing, and all weird n'shit.
Also, it's notable that I'm doing more work to create a piece that's inferior to just straight up smithing.
For now, anyway.
For now.
.
[Noon to Dusk]
.
Ok, cool. We made seven swords, five of them were busts.
Three were made with folding (one survived), and four were made with infusing.
I also got two more skill points.
So…
Right. Infusing is the art of me sacrificing an ingot in exchange for having a sword with more durability. Apparently I can do more than just make it more durable, but one step at a time and all that.
Also worth noting: infusing the steel makes it unsalvageable for the purposes of sword-making, so we've recycled the four infused swords (for two ingots in total) and made some nails out of what we got out of it.
Why nails?
Why not nails?
It's worth noting that the recycled infused steel was of an astonishingly low quality, to the point where the nails crumbled shortly after I finished making them. I'm not entirely sure why yet, but I get the feeling it's because there's magic involved™ somehow.
.
[Next Day, Morning to Afternoon]
.
I've burned the rest of my steel for three more swords (two normal, one infused). One normal method sword failed, so that got turned into materials for the infused sword.
Otherwise, the two pieces came out just fine.
The normal sword is perfectly able to hold an edge and is otherwise indistinguishable from Adrianne's work.
The infused one is flat out superior in every way except weight, which makes it more of a blunt weapon than a sword, but eh…
I also got one more skill point for a total of 4 unspent, which I will do so…now.
Lessee…
…
I'll take Replacement 2, Deconstruction, and Fine Eye.
Replacement 2's pretty explanatory; it's just a straight upgrade to Replacement.
Deconstruction looked interesting. It lets me break down material to its base components easier. How much easier I have no idea, but we're gonna find out.
Fine Eye became available after Replacement 2 was taken, and it…basically lets me be a clockmaker? I tried it out a little and in general the perk seems to make jobs like inserting small rubies into rings easier.
I guess this means I can go into accessory crafting if I really wanted the money, or something.
I should go pay that bandit camp outside Whiterun a visit and get my hands on that Transmutation spellbook.
Nevermind that you can't cast spells yet.
Yeah, that's fallen by the wayside right now, hasn't it?
Anyhoo, I have five bars of Refined Steel and one Ruby I purchased from Adrianne. Let's fucking do this.
Where did you get the money for a ruby?
The pieces that passed Adrianne's inspection were put up for sale (fairly cheaply), and they made me a little bit of coin. No complaints so far, so I'm assuming the quality of the weapons have at least held up to some use.
…
Whew.
Ok.
…
[Forging the First Sword]
…
This is the trial piece.
We're putting in everything we're experimenting together, and…it comes out alright. A few errors here and there detracted from the sword's everything, but on the whole it's strong, serviceable, and doesn't look out of place when you swing it.
It also has strings of steel encrusted into the blade for a little extra polish. Not bad for a few hours of work, if I do say so myself.
…Ok.
[Forging the Second Sword]
…
When did he get here?
Before we realized, Idolaf had arrived to watch us work.
Y'know dude if you could tell me what you wanted this would go a lot smoother
…no? You're just gonna stand there with your arms folded?
Not gonna say anything?
Just watch?
Fine then.
Along with Idolaf, a small group of people have come to watch as well. Some of them are a part of Idolaf's retinue and carry materials for making a sheath.
Mm…still, looking at sir Battle-Born…he's not exactly young. I think he'll do good with a sword that helps keep him alive for a few more years. Maybe against an errant arrow, or whatever. I should convince him to carry like a shield or something?
Ok, let's get started.
…actually, hang on a second.
Perk tree, pick perk: fire mastery. Make us better with fire (somehow).
Why?
I vaguely remember something about the heat of the flames being responsible for metals melting incompletely or whatever. If we can heat our forge without doing any real work (not to mention make the fire hotter), then that's a definite plus.
I'm out of skill points now, so let's really get started.
…
…
…
We are completely focused on our work, with absolutely zero regard for curious onlookers. By the time we finish, it's an hour after dusk.
…
Whew.
…when did the sun die?
Um…
Right-o.
I've finished it.
I have a good feeling about this.
I'm also really tired.
Like…really, really tired. Brain-dead, really.
We hand the finished sword to Idolaf, and collapse against the wooden beam in front of the shop.
So tried. Tried. Tired. I meant tired.
.
[3rd Person Camera]
.
Idolaf examines the sword given to him with a faint feeling of disappointment.
It didn't carry that same feeling as the piece from earlier…if anything, this one feels too common. It was certainly forged from fine steel, with lines of engravings running down both sides of the blade and a small ruby encrusted in the hilt. There was a slightly tint of gold if he turned the sword at certain angles, but that was due to the torchlight.
But otherwise, it was quite normal. If he hadn't watched the young man toil away at the forge, he would have had trouble believing that it was a piece from him. Upon reflection, that, if anything, was a testament to how much he's improved over a period of a few days.
So the man is talented. Idolaf sighs inwardly. But the Battle-Borns are not short of talent…just those who can put the talent to use. He taps the sword's point on the cobblestone path. Still…it's a solid piece of work. He concedes.
"Would you like to advertise this to me?" He asks the very much so tired Ash, curious to know what the maker would say of it.
"It's strong, durable, and will hold an edge like a motherfucker." Ash slurs, slumped against a beam and very much so more tired than he should be.
Idolaf waits for him to finish his sentence, then, five seconds later, realizes with a start that the sentence has finished. He frowns in disappointment.
Idolaf then clears his throat. "Well, this isn't half bad." He says awkwardly, keeping his disappointment at bay. "You've certainly done well." He hands Ash a purse of 200 gold. The contract was to make a sword, and this one fulfills that marker quite well. Pity the other thousand was spent for nothing, though.
"And a small ruby." Adrianne amends. Idolaf gives him a little extra money for a ruby. "Pleasure doing business with you."
Idolaf walks away with a decent sword and a brief mental exercise in identifying the term "motherfucker" as a compliment.
"Funny." Adrianne chuckles as Idolaf rounds the corner and leaves her line of sight. "And here I thought he would writhe on the ground due to your craftsmanship."
"I'm tired." Was Ash's only exclamation from his seat on the ground.
"Yes, yes…" Adrianne laughs lightly, lifting him up by his left arm. "Let's get you inside."
Ash crashes at Warmaiden's for a night.
…
[The Next Day]
…
Oh my lord I don't know why I was so tired.
…well, ok, I think I can guess why I was so tired, but I don't know why.
What a useless pair of sentences.
Shush.
"Good morning." War-Bear greets us as we stumble out of the makeshift pelt/leather bed they made for us. Apparently we slept in the store armory. "How was the night?"
I yawn. "Best sleep I've ever gotten." Not a joke either. Sleep after being dead tired is the best.
"That's nice." Adrianne tosses over an apron. "Put that on, we have work to do."
Adrianne takes us under her wing for another week, teaching us how to forge every weapon except bows.
Bows are carpentry based skills.
Comparatively speaking, we do worse than we did when being employed by Idolaf. Our stuff is still decent—Adrianne puts them on sale and gives us a cut when they sell—but they're by no means nearly as good as the "masterwork" I smoothed.
Still, my stuff is pretty good. Warmaiden's made more money with us around, largely because we're, y'know, an extra set of hands.
We gained 12 skill points for our week of work.
I decided to take 4 ranks of Tailoring Mastery (better sewing), 4 ranks of Fine Eye (detail work is easier), 3 ranks of Weaponsmithing Mastery (better weapon making), and one rank of Steelworking (steel's easier to work with).
I also got the chance to get a second…I'm going to call it a 'major' Perk, with the other ones being minor ones. So I got the chance to pick something that was as powerful as Combat Support (double crafting exp, half all other exp gains).
Again, the tree's fucking huge, but this time I had the chance to sit down and examine each option in detail. After a day of deliberation, we picked…"Infusion", which lets us create equipment with an inherent magical power. This magical power stacks with Enchanting, so I'll be able to make some absurd gear once I learn to enchant/disenchant.
Anyhoo, after the week is up, we quit our job with Adrianne's blessing. I make a 20% commission on the pieces sold through Warmaiden's. I now have a wallet of 2000 gold. This is a significant amount of gold to make in a week as an apprentice.
…though it's worth noting that we're not being headhunted because 1: Grey-Manes won't take what Battle-Borns didn't take and 2: if Idolaf didn't headhunt, nobody else will.
…and 3: Warmaiden's is one of those 'sweet spot' shops that was big enough to use extra hands but small enough to get by without hiring more. Shops smaller than they don't need an apprentice and bigger shops have some already.
…So…
…What next? Should I get to work and learn to enchant stuff?
Or should I finally learn to use magic for some offensive capability?
…Decisions, decisions…
…mm…
…First things first, I need a more permanent place to live. Maybe a business of my own too, so I can avoid starving to death.
…2000 gold is a lot, but it's also very little if we want to live in Whiterun. I feel like a college student again.
…I guess that means we're moving into the poor quarters, huh?
So we do. We make our way towards the low incoming district.
Though I'm calling it the poor quarters, it's by no means destitute. The (arguably) most populated part of the city, the poor quarter is home to basically all the unskilled labor of Whiterun. Farmers, miners, Belethor's assistant…they all live here. And as is the norm for non-industrialized societies, unskilled labor is the biggest labor.
Unskilled is such a stupid name.
Stupid names aside, it's a pretty pleasant place to live (for a poor person). The guards don't shirk their duty to patrol down here, so it's pretty safe…even though the guards are running a bit thin nowadays. I blame the war.
We look around for real estate in the poor quarter until we find something that really fits our bill.
It's an abandoned Smithy. It's small—the house is easily a quarter the size of Warmaiden's and is only one floor—and the attached smithy needs to be rebuilt. But there's a smelter too, though we need fuel for that as well…
…but the property is only 200 gold, and buying it would ensure that I will always have a forge for my own use.
Fuckin' sold.
We buy it and feel buyer's remorse a moment later.
There's a lot of remodeling that needs to be done.
It'll be fun, I think.
…
[Later That Day, 3rd Person Camera]
…
Lars Battle-Born, the youngest child of the Battle-Born family, has found a shiny new toy. Technically, he would tell you that he isn't the youngest in the family, because there are others younger than him, but he's the youngest of the true Battle-Born bloodline, so nobody listens to his complaints.
For today, it doesn't really matter, because he has a shiny new toy…er, sword. His father would tan his hide if he called a sword a toy. The sword was a little big for him, because Grandfather Battle-Born had it specially made for himself. Lars didn't know what the fuss was about, especially since that one sword, the one carried home in silk like the most valuable newborn, could sing if you swung it.
This one wasn't that weird—it didn't sound like anything when he swung it—but if he turned it against the sun juuuust right, the blade glowed with this golden hue that looked really cool. The glowing ruby was pretty neat, too.
He feels a little bad taking it from its display case, but it's not like anybody's going to miss it for a few minutes. Plus, he had permission from his grandmother…though he really could have done without her happiness at him showing interest in fighting for once.
Either way, Lars happily walks from the rich section of the neighborhood to the market section, intent on showing off a little to Mila Valentia, his best friend. Hopefully he wouldn't run into Braith on the way there. He struts down the street with the sword strapped to his back (it's a tad big to wear around his waist) and he enjoys the looks he gets as the passersby turn to stare a little.
Soon enough, sadly, his steps falter. There was Braith, the little fireball of a girl, playing around with some flowers before him. No doubt she plucked those from some poor, unoffending flowerpot on her way here.
She bought them from a small shop, blushing furiously when the shopkeeper asked for whom the flowers were for.
Lars tried his best to walk past her as if he didn't know she was there. He was, sadly, not a good actor.
"Hey!" Braith accuses him after he's walked barely five paces past her. "Lars Battle-Born!"
Lars dearly wished that he could just ignore her and not get kicked in the shins for it. "Yes, Braith?"
She was deeply offended by him ignoring her, but her attention was immediately drawn to the real-looking sword on his back. "What's that?" She asks, more curious than angry right now.
"This is, uh…a sword." Lars says hesitantly. "It belongs to my family."
"So why do you have it?" Braith doesn't really know how to be anything but hostile while talking to him, much to her own embarrassment. "Did you steal it?"
"No!" Lars flinches at the accusation. "I'm just going to show it to Mila."
"Oh." Braith…was more interested in seeing the sword than jealous that he's going to see Mila Valentia. "I'm coming too!"
Lars knows the battle was lost before it began, and just sighs.
…
Braith accompanies Lars on his trip to the market district, much to his annoyance. After some time (much more than Lars would have liked), they find the Valentia fruit stand in the center of the market. As usual, it was surrounded by a small gaggle of patrons interested in both the fruit and the pretty widowed mother, Carlotta. Little attention is paid to her daughter, Mila, as she puts fruits into the baskets of the shoppers who purchased them.
"Hi Lars. Hi Braith." Mila greets him as she sees him through the crowd. "What do you have there?" She stares at the hilt protruding from behind Lar's back.
A few heads to turn and look, because people are curious.
"Grandfather had this sword made for him." Lars says, unclipping the sheath from his back with some difficulty and showing it to Mila. "I thought it looked cool." He said a little lamely.
"Aye, it's a good sword, lad." One patron says cheerily. "It's a wee bit big for ye." He adds to the general chuckling of all in attendance.
"I just thought it looked cool." Lars smiles sheepishly.
"Can you draw it?" Another patron asks.
Lars puts the sheath down and pulls…with no results. He, in his haste, did not notice the two straps of leather locking the blade in place. The straps exist so the blade wouldn't accidently unsheathe outside of combat unless you gave it a reasonably strong, "time to throw down" pull. Lars is like, ten, so of course he didn't know that, nor did he have the arm strength for it.
His attempts earned him a few laughs and a few cheers, but it didn't do much to soothe his embarrassment.
"It still looks nice." Mila said as a consolation as Lars shamefacedly puts the sword back on his back.
"Made you look stupid." Braith added, attempting to console but doing pretty much the total opposite.
She wanted to call the sword stupid.
Lars hung his head.
"Now, now." Jon Battle-Born, Lar's clan-brother and elder, claps him on the shoulder. "Nothing wrong with a sword that only draws in a fight." He chuckles. "So you said Idolaf had this sword made, eh?" He adds, to get Lars to focus on something else.
"Yeah." Lars says, going into what he knows about the sword…but mostly talking about the singing one instead. Most if not all of the listeners around either dismiss him as a child over-embellishing a nice little story, or else go back to their shopping.
Jon, who has both held and swung said singing sword, listens with polite interest, egging on Lars every now and then with a well-placed word to keep the boy talking. He had himself considered getting a special piece made, but since Idolaf returned with the disappointment currently resting on Lar's back, he held back.
After a good ten minutes, Lars finishes his rambling in much higher spirits than before.
Mila, who had to go back to work, heard about half of it. Braith, on the other hand, was staring at him with stars in her eyes. Lars then looked at her weird and the stars were gone.
"Erm, Brother Jon." Lars asks nervously after a fashion. "Can you teach me how to swing a sword?"
Jon, who never expected the bookworm-y Lars to ask such a question, was momentarily surprised. "Of course." The surprise was clear in his voice. "Though that one might be a touch big for you."
"I'm just playing around." Lars says in a rather self-deprecating way. "So it'll be fine."
Jon chuckles and steers him out of the market crowd, where the two of them could have a little more space to swing. By chance, they end up underneath the awning of Belethor's General Goods. Braith follows them and plops herself down on a nearby crate to watch. Everyone who knew her thought she was looking for a chance to insult Lars some more. Everyone who really knew how she felt about him stifled their 'aww that's so cute' smiles.
"Ok, now this is what you do." Jon says to Lars as he removes the leather safeties for the sword. He takes the boy through some basic exercises, and has him practice against a tough-looking leather bag filled with rocks.
"Hey!" Belethor calls out to them after Lars practices a few swings. "Are you gonna pay for the bag!?"
"We will, Belethor, don't you worry." Jon replies with a hearty laugh.
"Yeah, yeah…" Belethor sighs. Jon never really pays up, and he certainly didn't expect him to do so, anyway. As he turns, his glance passes over one of his windows and he stops short.
Belethor's eyes widen and he turns fast to Jon again. "Jon! Get down!"
Jon had only begun to react to the shouted warning when the sound of something heavy striking wood silenced the market square. The patrons looked around confusedly for the source.
"WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING?!" Belethor booms to the origin of the sound.
"S-sorry…!" A young aspiring hunter calls out sheepishly, standing on a hill a little distance away from the market. He had just purchased a bow and, in his excitement, set a targeting dummy (as opposed to an easier-to-hit bullseye) directly between him and the market. Normally, you set the thing designed to attract arrows away from crowds of people, and this goes double when you're just learning to shoot.
As such, the hunter had fired an arrow before the bowmaker could catch and stop him. The arrow of course missed the dummy without even a grazing hit, zoomed towards the market stalls, and by sheer luck struck the wooden beam of Belethor's shop, not a foot away from the back of Lar's head.
"By the gods that was a close one." Jon breathes out, his adrenaline turning him into a total mess. "Are you alright, Lars?"
"Ye-yes?" Lars looks around confusedly, not knowing exactly what the fuss is about. He sees the arrow that nearly killed him, but he doesn't have the danger sense to realize just how closely he came to dying.
The aspiring hunter gets his ass handed to him by the bowmaker.
"Run along home now." Jon breathes out. "Before you give me another heart attack."
"R-right." Lars agrees nervously, picking up on the local mood but still a bit confused. He sheathes the sword and quietly bids Mila farewell. Braith was too busy having a mini-heart attack for his sake and thus did not get indignant at him for ignoring her.
"Good thing that beam was there, eh?" Belethor says with a nervous chuckle. "Or else little Lars would be in trouble right now." He follows the boy with his eyes until he's sure the kid is safe.
"Yeah." Jon nods, idly examining the arrow, feeling like there's something off…he blinks quickly as he has a sudden insight. He gives the arrow a closer look, taking the time to examine it from all angles.
It's all wrong. He notes.
The arrow had lodged in a way that didn't make a lot of sense. If its angle was correct, it would have had to have come from a clearly opposite direction, like…the middle of the road leading up to the wealthy district…and then the arrow would have needed to make a sharp right turn before it made impact. In other words, from the position of the hunter, the arrow would have made a near-half circle in order to lodge itself in the beam.
Alternatively, the arrow could have been fired from in front of Lars and only barely missed his head. However, for this to happen, the arrow would have needed to come from a position where Jon could see the shooter, and more importantly the arrow would have travelled directly through Jon's body to end up where it was. Jon wasn't sure on the property of steel, but he was reasonably certain that if an arrow passed through his body he would have felt it.
So basically Lars is facing North, the arrow is shot from basically the South (so its tip would be North) but the arrow tip lodged in the beam is still facing the South.
Jon stared at the arrow on the beam a little longer and thought about retrieving it before a guard ushered him away ("No lollygagging"). He files the issue away for later examination, but for now chalks it up to dumb luck.
Some of the people in the market district would walk away with a little worry in their eyes and scan the city for any more idiots with bows. A large majority would scratch their heads at the arrow's strange flight. A very tiny minority would also scratch their heads at the wispy transparent light that seemed to flash in the corner of their eyes an instant before they heard the arrow strike the beam.
…
[1st Person Camera, Next Day]
…
So I just spent the past few days doing repair work on my new shack.
I think it's looking pretty good.
The fact that it's a shack with a leaky roof has not changed.
Small steps at a time. Most of my time was spent getting the forge and smelter up and running, so…yeah. Small steps.
I should add at this point that I'm not the only smith in the "clover district", as this place is called. There are multiple, and a few of them have forges larger than this one. Most, though, just use a small furnace with an anvil, and they—from my limited observations—focus primarily on tool repair jobs.
So that's probably going to be my main business for…until someone comes looking for the Dragonstone.
And that would be…
Right now, actually.
"Hey man!" Jake's voice comes from behind me. "How's the new business?"
"I'm just setting it up." I reply and turn to…oh.
There's Jake. He's obviously had an upgrade over his starter Sack Shirt—he's now in some strong but coarse-looking white miner shirt. He has pieces of leather armor over it, kinda like Fallout's so badly underutilized customizable armor system. It's patchwork, but it covers the parts where we care about the most–the ribcage and all of the soft meaty bits underneath. Sticking out over his head is the hilt of a great sword, and on his waist is a short sword.
Aria…looks the same, I think? Still stunningly mod-pretty. She has a short, dark blue dress cut to her knees, pants, iron greaves, iron heavy armor…I think I know who's the tank here. She's armed with a short sword and what appears to be a hunting bow and a quiver of arrows. So…midrange? It's not uncommon for the Dragonborn to start off with heavy armor and then go into range and then use magic and then learn to make potions while sneaking around and pickpocketing.
…So the 'oh' is because they have a third person along, and it's…
'Mellow'. Or whatever her name is. She's still short, still pretty, still well-boobed…and is wearing a pristine set of leather armor along with an apothecary's satchel. She also has a Steel axe and shield, and like the armor, none of it seems to have seen any kind of action.
Hmm…well. "So business is a little slow." I finish with an obviously unfriendly change in my tone.
"She led us here." Jake explains. "Do you two know each other?" He sounds like he's worried he just stepped in something. How did she know we got this place?
But if we were being honest, nothing happened between the two of us beyond a little bit of inconvenience. "In some ways." I shrug. "What's your name and how do you spell it?" I ask 'Mellow'.
The girl puffs up again. "I am Mellow. M-e-l-o."
…Ok. Also for how pretty and kept she looks I kind of expected a last name. Y'know, like how everybody who's upper class has a last name. Battle-Born, Grey-Mane…Aver-something.
Something that the active mind missed: Melo seemed to bite off a word after stating her first name.
"It's a very 'you' thing to have met a girl and not have asked her name." Jake grins.
"Yeah, yeah…" I eyeroll. "So what's up?" I sit next to my forge, which I need to find heat for at some point. The three of them find places to lean against.
"Apologies to the two of you." Jake says first to the girls. "So we went up to the Barrow." He opens without preamble.
"Ah." Yeah. "How was the undead?"
"Wait, what?" Melo—the name is stupid— says, surprised. "Undead?"
"We met plenty of Spiders and Skeevers, but no Draugur." Aria says. "We were stopped by a sealed door."
Ooooh.
Our comprehension shows on our face.
Also, we didn't seal the door. Did it auto close?
"Yeah." Jake nods at us. "Without what's-his-face to give the Claw to us we had to backtrack to Riverwood. The shopkeep guy said you had left with some weird-ass stone."
I had fetched the weird-ass stone when I bought this property, and it's lying next to the shack. In plain view of everybody.
"That's the stone I'm looking for." Aria says suddenly. "So you did have it."
"To nobody's surprise." Jake grins. "How was the fight?"
"Party of ten with four fatalities."
Jake's grin fades. "Shit, man."
"I know. At least I got an old cold axe to show for it." It's lying next to the Dragonstone. The ground beneath its blade is a little bit frosted.
"Four people died?!" Melo stares between the two of us. "What in the hells happened with that barrow?" I don't think she knows what the barrow is.
Jake gives us a small shake of his head and his "nah, she doesn't know" face.
"It's best that you don't ask about it." I laugh. "So, Aria. You're free to take the stone if you want."
"Done." Aria nabs up the stone. Her arms are way stronger than me, by the look of things.
We used to carry the stone around like a turtle shell with rope. Aria's using the rope to sling it over her shoulder like a shield.
Come to think of it. "What've you been doing? It's like three days to Riverwood, no?"
"We hired a carriage." Jake says. "So it's three days to go back and forth. I saw you smith, man. You looked good for once."
Melo giggles at "for once".
"Fuck you." I laugh. "I did damn good for a week. What did you do before you got the quest?"
"I went with Aria to the Companions." Jake explains. "I got some good practice and learned to actually use a sword." He grins. "That way, if I go into another Barrow, I would know what to do."
Going by his impression 'not knowing what to do' seemed to have been his course of action in the Barrow. Not that I can talk, since I wasn't all that different…so much for taking the more careful approach, eh?
"I'm going to turn this in." Aria says and begins to make her way towards Dragonsreach…and she still bounces like nuts. I mean, she's wearing armor, sure, but she's keeping it a little looser than it has to be, based on the straps and the give the armor seems to have. Either way, the armor may be solid, but she's, uh, not.
The two of us (Jake, Ash) watch her bounce away, a little bit transfixed. Melo is a little (rightfully) offended.
"You have no idea how distracting that is when you're trying to learn to handle a sword." Jake mutters with a bit of a chuckle.
Can't help it. "You unconsciously rubbed your sword in the process, huh?"
"Vigorously." Jake laughs. "I lost a hundred coins on the" he sees Melo "um." His tone drops off the cliff.
So he paid for lady favors, no? "How much was it per trip?"
Melo is lost by our conversation.
"Twenty-five." Jake sighs.
Really. "I'm surprised you didn't make it a daily trip."
He laughs. "I tried not to. Dude, you have no idea how hard it was."
Heh. "I bet."
"Fuck you." Jake laughs. "I walked right into that one." He admits.
"The two of you are old friends." Meloh says, a bit lost.
"The best." Jake puts his arm around me. "Thanks, Mellow."
"Uh-huh." Melo…I guess she tries to out-bounce Aria with how she walks?
She's pacing around a little and is very noticeably bouncing on the balls of her feet.
…oh, that's a good point.
We snap our fingers upon seeing Melo's breasts rebel against physics despite the leather armor.
I bought a tailor's tape measure yesterday. "Melo, can you come here for a second?"
She takes this as an excuse to flouncily bounce towards us. Going by the look of pain on her face this is an act she's quickly regretting.
"Are we waiting for Aria?" I ask as I take out some leftover iron crumbs and some cloth (a bolt of heavy type and a bolt of soft type).
"What are you doing?" Jake asks, curious. "Also, yeah. We have a job out in Rorikstead."
"Mell, stretch your arms out like this-" I make a T-pose with my arms "-I'm going to reach around if you're fine with it. Why Rorikstead?"
Melo does as she's told with some confusion. We get our tape measure ready.
"Oh I see." Jake gets what I'm trying to do. "Apparently there's like a cave nearby that's roosting bandits, and there's a bounty of a hundred gold per head. Plus we have an escort job for two hundred. You want in?"
Hells yeah. "Sounds like fun." I reach around Melo's chest with the tape measure and take her chest measurements. She squirms at the intrusion to her personal space. "Sorry about that." I say with zero shame and get my materials ready.
We get to work tailoring a bra.
I'm not a woman, and if I were I wouldn't be a big-boobed woman, but I've heard enough complaints on how much they hurt when you exercise to know that Melo (and by extension Aria) probably don't like being all that active.
I mean, yeah, the bounce is good for the charm bonus, but imagine going into a full sprint like that. Hurts like a bitch, no doubt. Plus I'm damn sure the armor isn't padded on the inside, so imagine your nipples rubbing up against coarse fabric plus actual metal. Yuck.
With our amazing Perk abilities the bra begins to take shape at a remarkable pace.
"I'm surprised you know how to make one." Jake notes. "What with not having a girlfriend and all."
"I'm winging it a little." I admit. "Unless Melo would like to take off her clothes so I can have a frame of reference."
"No." Melo replies confusedly. "That sounds like a really stupid idea."
Aye. So we're winging it. Good thing her bust size can be kinda sorta determined through her clothes. I might want to err a little on the larger side just to be sure, since the default clothing in Skyrim tends to be bulky and layered to fight against the cold. Are bras more comfortable when they're a little snug or when they're a little loose?
We need to ask an actual woman for that answer.
No kidding…but first I need to work with metal. "Jake, can you get me some fire salts? There's an apothecary two blocks that way."
"Yeah, sure." Jake hops to his feet, spins on his heels, and gets going.
"Why fire salts?" Melo asks curiously.
"Because the forge knows the difference." Jake and I say at the same time, much to Melo's confusion.
He comes back in about ten minutes with a packet of fire salts. Trailing him is a courtier carrying large cords of firewood.
I should have told him to get firewood, so Jake's a dear for thinking ahead.
"300 gold." Jake says after the two of them unload everything into the forge. I assume this means he paid the courtier already.
I count out the gold and fork it over.
Must be tough.
Not really. I store my gold in pouches of 100, then pouches of 1000. Fuck counting it out by hand, man.
…Alright.
We mix the fire salts into the wood as Adrianne taught us and toss it into the Forge.
One of these days I'll learn Flames and make everything go a lot smoother, but for now…
We strike flint and ignite the forge.
The good thing about fire salts is that, after this entire thing is lit, you can keep it on a low-burning state for a solid week before you need more fuel. I can keep it going longer since I have fire-based perks, but the fire salt is the big MVP of smithing. I use about a tenth of a stack to light this forge this time.
Thank you Balimund for issuing a fetch quest in game for ten stacks of salts. I never finished the quest though, takes too much time to gather.
I wonder, how do you get it in this Skyrim? Can we run a Fire Salt ring with elemental summons? I should learn elemental summons…but first I need to learn magic.
As we're idly wandering in our mind, getting our stuff together, Jake and Melo chat idly.
Hard workers, every last one of 'em. That reminds me. I need to make/buy some chairs. And furniture.
Is there an Ikea in Skyrim? It's Nordic enough, no?
…Forge is now hot. Alright.
We take two iron ingots and infuse them together, and then beat the end result into flat pieces.
I love having bullshit perks that translate into something resembling mind-exploding talent. Fun fact: the iron plate's density, despite being the infusion of two iron bars, is actually less than a single bar of iron.
As we get to work, Jake sits next to us to catch up.
"So what's the story between you and the hot redhead?" Jake asks.
"No story." I reply. "Just stupid weeabo bullshit."
"Ah." Jake grimaces. "How many perks do you have now?"
"Arguably not enough; how about you?"
Jake laughs. "Same. We need to spend some time mapping out our perk chart."
Yeah. "No kidding."
So we do. Jake has less varied perks than I do but has more of them, so he's on a higher level and is way the fuck more specialized than me.
…
Aria is gone for around thirty minutes in total. When she returns, we have crafted a brassiere of a relatively nice quality and have gotten our bearings in terms of our perks. Still, the bra gets all the attention.
"Man, for someone who has never seen one up close you did a damn good job." Jake laughs.
"In the future, please provide valuable input during the crafting process." I sigh. If memory serves Jake used to work in a Lingerie store for a while, so having a little bit of (quasi)professional input would have been nice.
Either way…
"Here, put this on." I pass the result over to Melo. She examines it with a lot of confusion and a little bit of disdain.
The bra is built mostly out of the coarse but very strong cloth, with an outer layer of the softer, nicer cloth (especially the part that actually hugs the body). The supporting cloth has also been reinforced with the iron plates, which I Replaced into the cloth. In other words, it's strong, it supports, and because I fucking love frills it also looks pretty nice.
The Replaced Plates are miniscule, to the point where it would be near impossible to make it with just a hammer and anvil.
Once again I would like to thank the perks for giving me bullshit abilities that pass as talent.
One of these days I'll get my hands on some dye and I'll make stuff that also looks amazing. Or else nylon. I don't know.
We're apparently very bored.
Yes.
Melo figures out where the piece of equipment is meant to go, turns into a tomato, and then goes into my forge shack to actually try it out…I should never call it a forge shack again. She goes in at roughly the same time Aria actually comes back.
"What was that all about?" Aria asks, curious.
"Ash made underwear." Jake says with total deadpan.
"Huh." Aria muses and goes into our currently unfurnished house.
"I fully expect them to come out and just kick your ass." Jake says. I don't reply, because that's what I think will happen too.
The two of us sit and wait patiently for a minute.
The two girls come out after that minute. Aria bounces, but the comparatively bigger Melo does not. I call that a win. Amendment, there is minor bouncing, but it's unnoticeable. No, it's noticeable, but only if I'm staring. Also I'm staring so I should stop.
"Ash, can you make me one?" Aria asks almost immediately after stepping out of the door. "I'd love to not have people stare at me everywhere I go."
The two of us look away in embarrassment.
"And an extra set for me!" Melo amends cheerily. "My back feels a lot better." She's actually a little bit taller now.
That's kind of sad, in a way. "Yeah, I'll get right on it. Don't we have a job though?"
"The caravan leaves in like an hour." Jake says, then snaps his fingers. "Oh, that's right. You can do smithing now, right? I want you to put our swords to the grindstone before we leave." He unclips his great and short swords and hands them over, sheathe and all.
"I can do that." I take the swords over to the grindstone. "I imagine this is what I'll be doing on the road, too."
Jake agrees with me. "Probably, though from what I heard having a traveling smith or armorer isn't really unusual."
That's unusual to me. "Really?"
"It depends on the size of the party." Aria explains. "Solo travelers don't care about stuff like this, nor are they armed well enough for it to matter. Teams of two to four tend to have one person who can do field upkeep on gear. Larger groups and military companies will usually have dedicated alchemists and smiths to keep their equipment combat ready."
…Sounds like I won't have a problem with employment if I don't mind joining a faction or so.
"In that regard, having you along would be understandable for the job." Aria says. "Since you seem to be gifted with both blacksmithing and tailoring skills."
I grin. I also finish putting the edge on Jake's swords.
"Wow that's fast." Jake marvels and regains his swords. "Mind if I give it a test?"
"Sure." I grab a piece of firewood and set it on a stool. "You break it, you buy it." I gesture to the stool.
Jake laughs, puts his foot underneath the piece of firewood, and pulls it into the air. I say 'pull' because he's not, y'know, kicking it. He's just giving it a little tap with his foot and ok the point is the wood is airborne
Jake makes a sweeping cut with his short sword, cutting the firewood horizontally into two. He then follows his momentum, twists, and then makes an uppercut with his greatsword, cutting the firewood into four.
The four wood pieces fly up a little longer and then fall back to the ground. I'm satisfied.
Melo claps politely.
"Fucking hell." Jake whispers. "Dude, how sharp are these things?" He asks me.
Um. "Is there something wrong with them?"
"There was no reaction from the cut." Aria breathes. "The way that target flew."
…I…don't understand what she means.
"Look." Jake brings over the four pieces of firewood to me. "See here?" He proves to me that the four pieces of firewood are of (relatively) equal size.
I shake my head. "I don't know what I'm looking at."
"If I'm doing this exercise right, normally the firewood is not equal sized." Jake says. "Like, there's friction between the blade and the target, right, so the first swing would displace the wood and the second one would not hit dead center."
Yay physics. "Oh, so the blade is hella sharp."
"And of course he's blasé about it." Jake laughs. "Dude, I don't want to oversell how important this is, but weapons maintenance is a big deal here." He glances over to Aria. "Like, weapons lose a shitton of their power if they're not maintained right."
Reality. "I don't doubt that maintenance is huge, but I do think you're overselling it."
"Refine mine as well." Aria offers up her blade.
We put an edge onto it.
Aria gives it a test. It doesn't cut as cleanly as Jake's, but according to her it's still "exceptional". With that, we're a bit short on time, so Jake helps us collect some of our materials and we set off for the caravan rally point.
With Melo in tow, because she wants to come along and technically we can't stop her.
.
.
.
{ === + === }
Author Notes: It would be too convenient if every piece that came out of the AshForge was conspicuously amazing.
For reference:
Ash – Lv 24
Major Perks: Combat Support (Double crafting xp, half other xp), Infusion (Can create inherently magical equipment)
Minor Perks:
Tailor Reinforcement (Make clothing stronger), Replacement 2 (Replace item part with other parts), Refining Mastery (Refining goes better), Melee Foresight (Increased Evasion), Steelworking 2 (Working with steel is easier), Swordcraft Mastery (better results when making swords), Weaponsmith mastery 4 (better results when making swords), Deconstruction (salvaging items is easier), Fine Eye 5 (Jobs involving small items is easier), Fire Mastery (can burn better), Tailor Mastery 4 (better results when making clothes).
Jake – Lv 41
Major Perks: Great Weapons Master (double fighting xp, half other xp), Greater Weapons Master (double fighting xp, half other xp, weapons 50% more effective), Greatest Weapons Master (double fighting xp, half other xp, weapons twice as effective).
So Jake's getting x8 normal combat xp and his weapons hit three times as hard, in exchange of basically getting no xp anywhere else.
Minor Perks: 1hand sword mastery 10 (one-handed swords work better), 2handed sword mastery 10 (two-handed swords work better), shield mastery 10 (shields work better), counter 5 (counterattacks are better), overwhelm 5 (bonus damage to weaker targets)
So…yes, Jake's specializing into strict sword combat.
Apologies for the layout, I didn't want to take up more lines.