Rise of the Living Forge

Achievement: [Core Skills] has been earned.

[Core Skills] – Awarded for forging 2 cores in one day. Quite the go-getter, aren’t you? Effects: One skill in your next Skill Selection has been upgraded. This achievement will be consumed upon choosing your next skill.

Arwin stared at the golden words humming in the air before him. He wasn’t so sure his eyes were processing the information before them. It took everything he had just to keep his eyes open.

For the last few hours, he’d thrown every scrap of strength and determination he had left into completing the armor for Olive and the members of Phoenix Circle. There hadn’t been time for him to dally longer, and he’d known exactly what he wanted to make.

Making three sets of armor in the time he had should have been impossible to do in a single day. It was a monumental task. One that he never even would have considered a few weeks ago, much less when he’d just started scripting.

But things had changed since then — and he’d taken a few slight creative liberties in the project. The faintest of grins pulled at his lips. That alone should have been an impressive feat. Smiling took a surprising amount of energy when there was nothing left to spare.

He suspected that Olive, Reya, Elias, and Maeve would be able to vouch for that come morning. The four of them all laid on the ground of the smithy around him, fast asleep.

Reya was spread out like a starfish and Olive’s head rested against her shoulder. Her wooden arm occasionally twitched and her lips fluttered as she muttered something in her sleep, but the other girl was passed out cold and didn’t notice.

Elias and Maeve’s backs were braced against other for support in a position that was somewhere between lying down and slumped over each other. Everyone was completely spent. Arwin had dragged every scrap of energy that he could wrest free of them.

But finish he did.

Lined up along the ground — in what felt like a slightly disrespectful mess — were pieces of armor. Custom made equipment for all three of the prospective tournament-goers. Each piece was made in conjunction, and Arwin’s seal was embossed in the very center of every chestpiece. Even though he no longer had a mask, as it had been confiscated for the sake of his still-sleeping [Soul Guardian], it was still his maker’s mark. It would be another way for the Menagerie to continue to grow their name through the tournament.

Arwin dragged his gaze up to the huge suit of armor watching over all of them from the back of the armory. It still had yet to budge from his spot, but something about it made him feel inexplicably comforted. As if they were safe.

I hope I don’t have to find out if that’s just a placebo effect or not.

Repressing the urge to heave a sigh, Arwin pushed his tired body forward. As badly as he wanted to just flop down next to the others and sleep, he couldn’t. There was still a little more to be done with the night.

He scooped the sleeping adventurers up one after the other, slinging them over his weary shoulders in pairs of two before dragging himself out of the Infernal Armory and heading across the street to the Devil’s Den, one ponderous step at a time.

His surroundings were little more than a muted blur as he dropped Reya and Olive off in their room before depositing Elias and Maeve in theirs. Even more strength flooded from his body the moment the last door was closed, but he still made his way back down to the common room.

I’m not going to sleep in the hallway when Lillia is probably waiting for me in our room. I’m so close. Soon, I’ll be able to —n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

Arwin ground to a halt at the bottom of the stairs. He’d completely missed them the first time he’d walked through the room, but Lillia and a rather raggedy man that Arwin had never seen sat at a table near the center of the room. ℟

Huh? What’s going on? Why is there someone up this late? It’s the middle of the night.

Arwin made his way over to join them, silencing his muscles and weary minds’ complaints.

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The ragged man flinched like a wild viper as he arrived beside them. He spun toward Arwin and almost lurched out of his chair. The man had deep bags under his sunken eyes and looked about half a step away from joining Elias in the ranks of the undead.

“Arwin!” The smile that pulled across Lillia’s features ground the weariness in Arwin’s bones to dust.

At least, it did for a moment.

“Sorry I’m late,” Arwin said with the best nod he could muster. “What’s going on? Why are you all up so late?”

“I was just saying you were probably busy. This is—”

“Kien,” the man said, extending a hand toward Arwin.

He took it, and the two of them shook. Then Arwin flopped down in the chair beside Lillia. Kien had spoken as if his name was meant to mean something… but he hadn’t the slightest idea about what.

Have we met before? I don’t think I’ve seen him. He certainly doesn’t look familiar. Doesn’t sound familiar either.

“Pleasure to meet you,” Arwin said. “I take it by the way you’re eyeing me that there’s something you want?”

“Yes,” Kien said. He grabbed Arwin by the wrist with surprising speed — and strength. The man looked disheveled, but his grip was as strong as forged metal. “I have come in search of you. You are the Smith, yes?”

“I am,” Arwin said warily.

Lillia would have sent this guy off if he was just some random person looking to get something made. If he was sick, I’d have assumed Anna would have looked at him already… but she isn’t here. What does he want, then?

“I am dying,” Kien said. “As best as I can tell, you are the only person that can fix me.”

“What? I think you might have skipped over a few things. I’m not a healer. If you were looking for healing, maybe Lillia hasn’t had a chance to introduce you to Anna. She’s our guilds—”

“Your healer,” Kien said. He coughed into his fist, then shook his head, causing his long hair to flop around his head like strands of seaweed. “No. A healer cannot fix what is not already broken. I have already spoken with the Innkeeper of this.”

“It’s his heart, apparently,” Lillia said. She hesitated for a moment. “Arwin, he’s got no magical energy. None at all. Try to use the Mesh and look at him. He isn’t wearing any items to conceal his status.”

Arwin blinked. He did as she said. It wasn’t the most polite thing to try, but Kien didn’t make any moves to ask him to stop.

And Lillia was right.

There was no status or information about Kien. That would have been fine if he just didn’t have a class, but he clearly had the look of an adventurer. His eyes told the story of a man who had seen death… and men like those did not often find themselves in want of a class.

Arwin didn’t have the advanced analysis abilities that Lillia did when they were inside the Devil’s Den, so if she said there was something wrong with him, then there was.

“I’m not sure I can do anything to fix that,” Arwin said with a frown. “I’m not really a healer, per-say. The rumors just went wild about me. I’m a smith. The only thing I can do—”

“You can make body parts.” Kien stared into Arwin’s eyes like he was trying to dig the information out with his gaze. “That rumor is true, yes?”

“It is,” Arwin allowed. He pinched the bridge of his nose between two fingers. He wasn’t against helping the man, but he was far too tired to deal with the problem at an hour like this. “But you don’t appear to be missing any limbs.”

“I am not missing a limb. I have a faulty organ,” Kien said. “I want you to replace it.”

If word gets out that I’ve gotten into the business of replacing organs that don’t quite work, I fear all the noble women are going to send their impotent, sedentary husbands my way.

Arwin shuddered at the thought, but it would have been rude to refuse the man outright… and at this point, he was curios enough to at least want the beginnings of an answer.

“What organ?” Arwin asked, then hurriedly amended his statement. “And, just in case, no showing.”

The corner of Kien’s lip twitched. The man did not smile. “I could not show you if I wanted to. I want you to replace my heart.”

Right. He’s got a death wish, then.

“Your heart? That… even if I could do that, there’s a ridiculously high chance that it goes wrong and you end up dead.”

“I don’t care if I die, so long as I get a few good weeks of the heart first.” Fervor dripped from the man’s words and his gaze burned into Arwin’s. “Can you do it?”

“Why?”

“You will not believe me, but I do not care. This is the truth. The Adventurer’s Guild stole my magic,” Kien said, clenching a hand into a fist and driving it down onto the table beside him with a loud bang. “They left me to die, smith. After a lifetime of servitude, they drained me dry and tossed me aside like a dirty rag. I’m going to make them pay.”

Arwin’s ears rang. He stared at the man sitting before him for a long second, unable to believe the words he was hearing. There was far too much pain and anger within them for it to be some sort of trick.

We weren’t the only ones? How many people has the Guild betrayed?

Arwin swallowed. His weariness was gone, now. It would come back when he was ready for it — but it would wait its turn.

“You’d be surprised to find just what I’d be willing to believe.” Arwin said slowly. “Is your heart dying? Or have you just lost your magic?”

“I… live. It is a tortured existence, but I believe it functions properly.”

“Then let’s not jump ahead too quickly with replacing hearts. There might just be something else I can do for you.”