Death Smith - Book 2 - Chapter 23

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An eye for change

Several hours later.

Late-April, 14 AR.

Ireland, Dublin, Inside the Foundry.

It hadn’t taken him long to arrive at the GRRO sanctioned location near Dublin. He had stopped once to fill up the tank of his van and another time when he had allowed Ash to steer the car. The result had been the van nearly crashing into the side of the road and Lance having taken several minutes to calm himself again.

The GRRO place he had stopped at had an official name, but most Rifters referred to it as ‘the Foundry’. Although there were others in Ireland, this one was the place where most Rifters went to sell and buy supplies, equipment, or form parties.

The Foundry was a bustling marketplace full of people and activity. Rifters of all shapes and sizes milled about, haggling, and bargaining over prices. The air was thick with the smell of weird odours, metal, and oil. Lanterns hung from the ceiling, casting a warm glow over the scene. Loud laughter and shouting filled the air as parties met up or formed on the spot.

The Workshop in London was far larger and more expansive, but Lance had taken a liking to the Foundry. Some ‘savant of structured architecture’ had designed the place in precise lines. Every shop had similar sizes and stood next to one another with a clear purpose. It lacked every bit of warmth that the Workshop had, but Lance had only walked around the place for a few minutes before he understood the complete layout and knew where to find everything. Thomas would have hated it, but to Lance’s introverted nature, all of this made sense.

Lance had first sold the stuff he harvested from the monsters back in his last Rift. Most of it were things like hides to make leather, or claws and teeth. He had stuffed his backpack full of those sorts of things until it had threatened to rip apart the seams. More fragile or squishy materials such as their monster eyes or their meat Lance had stored in his inventory, preferring not to carry it around him constantly because of the smell. As horrible as it seemed, a collector or Rifter with an Alchemist skill would pay quite a penny for it.

He had not brought his bulk goods back with him during his last Rift. He had wanted to stay light on his feet and had gone to that Rift purely to train and observe. Even with just his inventory and backpack, he had made a decent amount. He had sold most of his black-shards and the single Guardian-shard to get a little spending power. He had promised Ash that he would get him some decent gear, finally. It had surprised him just how much more a Guardian-shard was worth compared to a regular black-shard. A thousand times as valuable. It made sense, since they were rare, and the Rift-guardians were a tougher foe to kill. Beyond that, their shards could be used to breach into an unstable Rift at the cost of one shard per Rifter. The latter was something Rifters rarely did since the price of a Guardian-shard was usually too high to justify it.

The gear he had bought for Ash in the Foundry was basic steel and leather equipment that offered a lot of protection without hindering Ash’s mobility too much. It had felt strange how different he looked at Ash’s equipment compared to his own. For his own gear, he wanted as much protection near vital organs, but for Ash, it was mostly to prevent the loss of limbs and mobility. An arrow to Ash’s heart or lung was less damaging than Ash losing a hand. Overheating also was something that didn’t affect his companion.

Although it struck at his guilt and grief, he made sure he equipped Ash with equipment that was worthy of Thomas. The armour contained thick steel plates riveted with leather straps and additional leather padding. Lance had also bought boots, gauntlets, and leg armour for Ash, all made from thick steel plating and sturdy dark leather. Ash would now also have a proper helmet to cover the top and sides of his head. An adjustable sturdy leather neck and face-guard would allow Ash to cover most of his face, leaving just his eyes exposed.

The metal had a dark coating on it, preventing it from reflecting the light as much as possible, while also making the armour look more intimidating. Wearing it, Ash would look like a walking tank and worthy of Thomas’ approval. It had been a bit of guesswork to get all the right sizes, but the seller he had bought it from was used to people buying armour for other Rifters. No doubt in the eyes of the merchant, Lance was just another underling sent out on a task.

At other shops, he had replenished his food and water supplies, along with several steel throwing knives, a sturdy backpack for Ash, and a few longer cloaks. The knives and cloaks he had bought in bulk, hoping to destroy them and gain their template. Lance figured he could replace bone knives far more easily when he would learn to use his new skill. And with his ‘Death Smith’ class, he could pump out bone knives if he had the black-shards and the bone to do so. The cloaks he had purchased for a special project.

Lance had thought about joining a party that would tackle a level four Rift or accept a level one Rift on his own. The level four would offer far more experience and allow him to see how other Rifters dealt with a more dangerous Rift. A level one Rift would mean that every black-shard there would be his. Eventually he had decided not to pick either and instead focus on harvesting the monsters corpses he had still inside his inventory. That and getting some rest before he was to meet up with Iyas and Mira later that evening. ‘Experience or wealth?’ Lance thought as he made his way out of the Foundry and into the parking lot. Ash and the birds were still in his inventory, with Lance not wanting to chance someone looking inside and spotting them. ‘I’ll tackle that problem tomorrow.’

He placed the crates that contained the daggers, cloaks, and Ash’s new armour in the back of the van and was about to load up the food and water he had bought when his phone buzzed. Checking his phone, he noticed two messages from Iyas. One contained an address and basic instructions, while the other was a simple message.

“Not a word to Mira. And don’t let curiosity get the better of you. -Iyas.”

“Yes!” Lance said, slamming his fist against the side of his van because of his excitement. He still had to verify it all, but if the address was legit, it meant that he now was one step closer to finding the black market. If it all worked out, it meant that he could unload even more monster parts without the GRRO or anyone else getting suspicious about how a single Rifter could carry so many individual hides, bones, claws, and other parts from a single Rift each time.

He quickly texted Iyas back to let him know he was grateful for the help and that the first drinks were on him before Lance loaded up his van and eagerly made the trip back to his base of operations.

* * * * *

Several hours had passed since Lance had returned from the Foundry. And although he had showered since he had gotten out of the Rift that morning, already a fresh coat of blood and filth covered his body. To his side stood Ash, equally filthy, as the two of them carefully removed the black and shadowy skin of a Rift-guardian. The skin was tough and leathery, and it took a lot of effort to peel it away from the underlying flesh. The smell of blood and death was overpowering, and Lance had to take breaks to gag and catch his breath. Not even the filtering properties of the kaffiyeh wrapped around his face seemed to help. Luckily, Ash didn’t seem to mind and had done most of the work.

They had just finished with the second Rift-guardian’s skin, letting it drape over several chairs. Even now, peeled off their former bodies, the black material continued to distort the very air, as if a dark smoke continuously formed and dissipated. “It is like looking at the world through a funhouse mirror. Everything looks twisted.” He let his hand run over the skin, feeling the warmth of the skin and how it made his hand seem warped. ‘I was lucky to have gotten my hands on two of these Guardians.

“Ash, cut up the rest of the guardian and put those freeloaders to work,” Lance said as he handed Ash a sharp knife. As ordered, he noticed his companion point at bits of meat and removed organs, marking the separate piles whilst grunting verbal commands. It still sounded horrible and demonic, but the birds understood Ash fine. It was a bloody task, but Lance’s companions did not flinch or hesitate when faced with the savagery of this world or those worlds within a Rift.

Lance rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger, feeling the grit of sleep and the sting of exhaustion. Although it was still midday, it felt like he had already been awake for much longer. Long days of brutal combat, rough living and constantly harvesting monsters had taken a toll on him. His sleeping bag in the room's corner had tempted him several times. Still, the desire to finish his special project was far more tempting.

Lance picked up another cloak he had purchased in the Foundry and grabbed a knife as he carefully made alterations to the cloak. He cut the edges and bottom to give it a tattered look, while making arm slits at the side to allow him to wear it like either a cloak or an improvised coat of sorts. “I am just throwing away money here,” Lance said as he inspected the finished project one last time. He had done the same with four other cloaks already, destroying each of them, hoping to get their template. “Lady luck, don’t fail me now.”

[Unknown template. Base 13% chance of discovery when destroying this item.]

[Do you wish to destroy this item?]

[Yes] [No]

He paused as he noticed the increased chance of discovery. It had started out as a mere five percent, but it had increased during the last few attempts. ‘At least my familiarity with the item has increased. But I am running out of cloaks.’ He chose yes as he continued to hold on to the cloak, seeing a countdown appear near the item. He spent the time he had to wait by observing Ash and the birds.

The pale man had made substantial progress already on the second Rift-guardian, and Beta and Alpha were working in unison to drag a large piece of meat towards the meat pile. Icarus was in the back, struggling with a Rift-glider eyeball that had gotten lodged in the back of its beak. “Icarus, if you break it, you’ll have to buy it,” Lance commented, enjoying the bewildered look the creature was giving him. Even Ash gave Lance a confused stare.

[Success]

The item disintegrated in his hands, but the process had been a success. He could see the status screen mark the addition of another template that Lance had learned. His eyes immediately lit up as he rushed towards the chairs that contained the black and shadowy skin, quickly storing them one by one before he activated his Death Forge ability. It took him a few minutes to figure it all out and to double check it once more. Upon accepting the forging process, his status screen notified him of the cost of it all. The process had used up a single Rift-guardian’s skin and a chunk of his black-shards.

“Good?” Ash asked as he made his way over towards Lance, still covered in yellowish blood.

“Yes, it is. Amazing even.”

Ash nodded at that, doing his best to share in Lance’s excitement, but lacking the knowledge and ability to join him. And so, minutes passed as the two men waited patiently as the timer slowly ran out.

[You have finished forging an item]

Within a second, Lance had retrieved the item from his inventory, as it appeared in his hands. The tattered cloak looked like something out of a horror movie, as the black smoke distorted the air. He wove it around a few times to see the strange effect it had. It was hard on the eyes to follow, but he found he got used to it after a little while. It felt even stranger as he draped the cloak around his shoulders. “I look like everyone’s childhood nightmare combined into one. This is perfect,” Lance said as he waved his hands a few times before he retrieved three throwing knives. “Everyone, think fast.”

‘Ricochet’ ‘Ricochet’ ‘Ricochet’

[You have used Ricochet lvl 1 3x at the cost of 75 Stamina]

[Current Stamina 231/500]

The steel throwing knives left Lance’s hand as they flew towards the nearby wall. Instead of losing speed or sticking into the wall, the knives increased in velocity as they bounced off it. A single knife hit one of the monster corpses that Lance had piled on the floor. The other two flew wildly towards Icarus. The peregrine falcon flew to the side quickly, dodging the knives, but accidentally swallowing the eye it had previously held within its beak.

“Sorry about that,” Lance said as he held up his hands as if to apologize. He felt bad about doing it, but also ecstatic at how cool his new cloak and knives worked with one another. He could already imagine the fear and confusion he’d force upon monsters as he entered the next Rift like the bloody reaper himself. “Let’s see if you need repairing, alright?” He made his way over towards the startled Icarus and picked it up, nearly dropping it again afterwards.

[Do you wish to reforge this item?]

[Yes] [No]

He let his fancy new cloak fall from his shoulders as he stared at Icarus and the notification that was hovering above him. None of it made any sense until it finally did. It was as if all his experimentation earlier with the javelins and other upgradable items had prepared him for this moment. “This… this was the missing thing,” Lance said as he carefully opened Icarus’s mouth and confirmed that it had indeed swallowed the Rift-glider’s eye. “They have to eat the flesh of the fallen.”

[Yes]

He noticed more black-shards get removed from his inventory while Icarus trembled for a moment, as if feeling something happening to it. Although he had seen the notification and had accepted it, it was still baffling to see the timer appear above the bird’s head. “This will change everything,” Lance said as he heard Ash move up towards him. ‘I have three upgradable slots. That means that I can upgrade each bird with an appropriate item. I still don’t know if this is even a good thing. But if it is…’

His mind went numb at the dozens of potential outcomes, both good and bad. The process could simply not work, it could damage Icarus, or it could do exactly what he wanted it to do. If it proved to be good, it would mean that he’d need more black-shards. Like with the javelins, the first upgrade was ten black-shards, while the next one being a hundred and the third one a thousand. ‘If this works, I am going to need a lot more black-shards. I’ll never want to sell them again.’

Slowly, the seconds went by as Icarus continued to tremble, as if going through some change. It finally went limp in Lance’s hands as if asleep. ‘Please don’t break’, Lance pleaded with whatever force or deity that might hear him at that moment. Finally, the timer ran out and Icarus stirred again, slowly stretching its wings as it stared back at Lance not with dull grey gaze. Instead, Icarus stared at Lance with bright blue eyes.

[Item upgraded]

“Ash, harvest as much as you can. Quickly!” Lance shouted with joy as he kissed Icarus on the beak before making a mad dash towards the crates and plastic bags used for storing the harvested monster bits. And in that moment, he felt anything but tired as he began storing and retrieving monster parts in his inventory before sealing them in plastic bags. He did so to get rid of any bits of gore or tissue that would have otherwise remained attached to the harvested parts.

The only thing on Lance’s mind in that moment was the desire to gain more black-shards and the address of the black market that Iyas had texted him.

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Author: Osirium

Copyright: 2022 OsiriumWrites

Released: 2022