《Smith-Knight》City Of Gorz Arc, Chapter 20: A Crafty One Is A Betting One
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Inner City of Gorz
"Ug, I hate this place so much..." Blake groaned, once again back in the hustle and bustle of Gorz, which unfortunately meant that he had no idea where in the name of the Goddess on high he was going. "Hey, Bread, you live here? Know the way to the Crafting District?" He turned to Bread who was riding on Nash along with Mari and Os.
"Dunno? I hang around the outer city parts like Troville; the big city has way too many guards for what I used to do." Bread muttered with a shrug of his shoulders. "Closest I ever got to this place was that bird dragging me here."
"That so, huh? You're useless then..." Blake turned back around just as Bread glared at him while pulling at his left eye. "...doubt you'd be able to help me, Risabeel?" He asked the Demon walking alongside him.
"Sadly, you are quite right in your words, Sir Blake. I can not begin to understand the pathways of this place." Risabeel hummed in answer while keeping an eye out for either a guard or at least someone who looked like they knew their way around.
"Well, look who I found out of the blue?" A familiar voice came from an alleyway, making the group stop and turn to it. "Yo." Leaning against a wall with a grin on his face was that thief the party met and got involved in a chase with after he robbed someplace. "Looks like you guys could use some hel-AGUHH!" He was about to push off from his wall when a fist was smashed into the side of his face and sent him to the ground.
"Yo," Blake muttered after greeting the thief with a sucker punch while Risabeel was slowly moving behind him.
"Fucking hell! That hurt you know!?!" The thief quickly got back to his feet with a red mark left on the right side of his face. "What was that for jackass!? I was being nice!" He yelled at Blake with a hand pressed to his cheek.
"I said; I was going to punch you in the face for that shit you pulled last time, didn't I?" Blake asked in return, cracking his knuckle as he stepped up to the thief. "But lucky you, you're more durable than I thought, I was planning on knocking you out with that one." He grinned, wanting to take a few more swings at this guy for fun.
"Hah! If I couldn't take a beating, then what's the point of messing with the City Watch?" The thief grinned right back at Blake, then held up his hands. "Don't take me for a push-over, friend?"
"Challenge accepted!" Blake was all ready to go at it with this pretty boy thief.
"Stop this at once!" Risabeel's raised voice stopped the both of them in their tracks, allowing her to step between them with her arms outstretched. "Is there any good reason for either of you to be bashing each other with your fists even after our conflict has be settled?" She asked mostly towards Blake.
"Ugh, not really?" Blake answered her as he let his hand drop to his sides and looked at the thief doing the same. "And the guards aren't after us anymore." He explained, rubbing the back of his head. "Sorry about that, Risabeel."
"Of course, they wouldn't be! They were after me first, and you guys just got brought along for the fun, hah!" The thief laughed it off as an everyday event for him until Risabeel slowly turned to him with a blank gaze. "...Sorry as well...Uhm? Risabeel, was it?"
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"Yes, it is, and you are?" Risabeel asked after bowing her head to the thief.
The thief grinned widely before doing a backflip into a bow. "Citywide pain in the ass! Mordecai, The Honest Thief! At your disservice!" He finished his flashy introduction by tossing the knife strapped to his chest at a sack that was being hung up above him, putting a hole in it that an apple fell out of and into his open hand. "A gift for the young maiden?" He offered it to Risabeel right as the knife stabbed into it on its way down.
But Risabeel turned her head away from Mordecai. "Amusing as you are I do not accept stolen goods, thank you very much..."
"Well, suit yourself?" Mordecai shrugged at Risabeel and cut a piece of apple for himself. "Huh?" As he was about to take a bite something moved under Risabeel's hood and outshot a long sticky tongue that took the rest of the apple out of his hand and pulled it under the shadows of Risabeel's hood. "Uhmm, what?"
"Ah! Vas, how could you!?" Risabeel tried looking up as Vas until the Devil Frog poked out from under her hood with the apple in his mouth which after a low croak was gone. "It might have tasted good to you, but it was not your own, please do not take food from strangers."
"Stranger, huh?" Mordecai muttered while eating his apple slice then looked Blake up and down. "Guess that explains why she calls you of all people 'Sir,' eh?"
"Well, if you don't want to get all formal with me, then you can call me, Blake," Blake said to Mordecai, eyeing him the same way he did a moment ago.
"Then, Blake, it is!" Mordecai smiled, seeing as Blake was partly coming around to him as far as he could tell. "And what about you two?" He looked at Mari and Bread riding on Nash.
"Hi! I'm Mari!" Mari cheered from Nash's back then padded the horse's head. "And this is Nash!"
"Name's Nob-I mean...Bread." Bread gave out his name reluctantly, going for his real name at first until Blake and Mari stared at him for a second. "One's going to beat me up, and the other likes the name..."
"Rrrright?" Mordecai just let that one go for now since he had better things to do than ask 'Why Bread?' and turned to Blake. "Now, like I was saying before you punched me, it looks like you guys need some help right? Care to take it from me?"
"Why would we want help from a thief? Especially one that goes by 'honest'?" Blake asked in return, keeping the right distance from Mordecai that he could either get away or run after this happy go lucky thief.
"It's to ensure that my services are the best!" Mordecai declared with his chest pushed out and his hands resting on his swords. "If I say I can do it, then I can do it!"
"That's nice and all, but I don't think you'd be much help to us, come on, guys." Blake declined the offer with a wave of his hand and moved out of the alley along with the others.
"Heh! If you're headed for the Crafting District, better hook the next right, Mr. Smith!" Mordecai called out to Blake with an ever-growing smile on his face as Blake came to a stop and wheeled around to him. "Was I on the mark?"
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"Have you been following us?" Blake asked in a warning tone as he glared at Mordecai's smiling face and was starting to find it a bit weird that he ran into this thief again so quickly.
"Maybe?" Was Mordecai's answer with a hand doing 'so-so.' "I mean? Other than stealing what's not mine for the laughs, I'm pretty good at getting info on people I like, which is your little group at the moment." He pointed at Blake, causing the smith to look back at him a little confused.
"Us? Why? What's so interesting about a blacksmith and the bunch of people following him?" Blake asked with a raised brow.
"You guys were able to handle my level of fun. I was really surprised by it! I was expecting to use you guys as bait for the guards, but it turned out we all got away in style! With that in mind I feel as a fellow fun-loving misfit that I should in some way help you with your problems," Mordecai explained his reasoning to Blake, but a slick smile and his hands rubbing together fiendishly meant he had something working in the background.
"He's planning something, and he needs me for it?" Blake took notice of that, but instead of questioning Mordecai, he turned to Risabeel for her insight. "Hey, Risabeel? I don't how okay you are with taking this guy's help, and I have a feeling he wants something from us, but...we don't really have options here." He whispered while taking back glances at Mordecai to make sure he wasn't going anywhere.
"As much as I would not like to rely on a lawbreaker..." Risabeel paused to shot a glance at Mordecai as well. "...I do not feel any ill will in his words to the best of my senses, and as wondrous as it is to see the sights around the city as we were moments ago, I do wish that we would compete what we came here for."
"Agreed..." Blake muttered as he pulled away from Risabeel and walked up to Mordecai. "Alright, I'll deal with whatever favor you got in that head of yours once you get us to the Crafting District."
"Hehe!" Mordecai just sneakered at Blake's agreement with childish glee. "Favor? What favor? I wasn't thinking about that at allllll...but? Now that you mention it that would be nice, you know? Cause nothing's free in the world, right?" He motioned for the group to follow him as he walked out of the alley. "Then again, what can you do for me, anyhow?"
"You already know that I'm a blacksmith, so how about a freebie you just bring the Ore, and I'll make something that even a thief can't get their hands on." Blake offered/boasted to Mordecai with a hand going to his hammer at his side.
"Hmm? I didn't know you were a registered blacksmith of Gorz? I thought you were new?" Mordecai asked, turning to Blake to confirm it for him.
"Huh?" But said smith only had question marks around his head as he had no idea what Mordecai was going on about. "Can't I just pick a spot and open shop?"
"..." Mordecai stopped in his tracks and stared Blake in the face. "...Yep, I knew it you have no idea how things work here." He muttered then started padding around himself for something.
"Still didn't answer my question, thief." Blake crossed his arms as he and the others waited for Mordecai to find what he was looking for.
"Ah! Here it is! Turn to page 70 and read it, you country bum!" Mordecai produced a red booklet from his cloak that read; 'City Of Gorz Handbook' in gold letters above that was a golden Phoneix.
"Hey! All this used to the countryside too, you know!?" Blake shot back Mordecai as he ripped the handbook out of his hands and flipped through the pages. "What in this thing could stop me from doing my job, huh?" He thought as he came to the page he was told to read. "Huh?"
"What is it, Sir Blake?" Risabeel asked as she moved a little bit closer to him to read the book as well. "Oh, my? 'Anyone who wishes to take part in any type of business within the walls of Gorz must be pre-approved by one of the heads of the labor forces below..." Was what she read from the page and sure enough, there was a list of job types with blacksmith being under 'Crafting.' "...Anyone who attempts to start a business without the approval of a labor force head will have their business taken away and forced to leave the city with permanent banishment placed on them for work and city entry."
"Why did you have to read that out loud Risabeel..." Blake groaned as he read over the page again even if it said that he could get approved to work here that would cost money which he was planning on making by working. But that ship has a hole in it right now not to mention if this head of crafting person would let someone from a far-off town like Fairmaw work here. "Thanks for the insight, thief."
"No problem, man! Just making sure you're not tossed out before you could pay me back." Mordecai jabbed his elbow into Blake's chest. "Even if you got kicked out, I'd find a way to sneak you back in somehow."
"Which would mean more flavors I'm guessing?" Blake muttered as he shut the handbook and handed it back to Mordecai.
"What?! I never thought about that, better write it down! Thanks, Blake! You know me so well!" Mordecai faked writing in his handbook for a moment. "Hey, by the way, what's up with the jar of eyes?" He stopped joking around to point at an orange Os inside of its jar that was looking around at everything with the eyes of all our dear party members.
"Oh? That's my pet, Slime Os!" Mari reached around her back and pulled Os in front of herself then popped off the lid. "Say hi! Os!"
"Ooo!" Os came out of its jar to stare around some more. "Ooo?" It turned to Mordecai and reached out to him a little.
"A pet Slime that's rare!" Mordecai walked up to Nash to get a better look at Os with it moving towards him as well turning from orange to red. (Oh my)
"Careful that thing gets grabby," Blake warned, knowing full well what Os could do to someone it got a hold of.
"Yea," Bread agreed with Blake, he wanted to jump off of Nash to get away when Os turned to him at the sound of his voice. "Nope! You are not getting me again!"
"Whatever!" Mordecai just waved a hand at Blake as he kept looking at Os with it moving around him. "Like this little guy cou-Let go! Let go! LET GOOO-MMMMHHHH!" In the next instant, his shoulders and head were covered by Os.
"Ooo!" And the Slime was working its way down from there.
"OS! Stop it! Let hi-Shit! Shit! Shit!" Blake made the mistake of trying to rip Os off Mordecai and end up getting caught himself. "Mari! Control your Slime!" He yelled as he and Mordecai were getting covered by Os with that, oh so pleasant feeling coming to them as Os worked its magic.
"Hurry! Ooooh!" They both moaned now on the ground as a series of wet and wild pops, slurps, and squishes were made by Os sliding itself up and down the two young men, gaining quite the crowd of red-faced onlookers.
"Bad! Os! Behave!" Mari yelled at Os, making it freeze in place then it made an eye to look at her turning from red to green. "Back in the jar...now." She ordered getting off Nash and held Os' jar out to it.
"Oooo..." Os let out a sad moan as it slid off Blake and Mordecai then back into its jar, turning a darker blue than usual.
"A-a-ah, I-I-I feel so violated..." Both Blake and Mordecai groaned as they got back to their feet after that...that...
"We don't talk about this?" Blake asked Mordecai, and the thief nodded quietly.
"Aww! It was getting good?" A random person nagged as they and the rest of the crowd broke apart but oddly and worryingly some coins were left behind at Blake's and Mordecai's feet.
30 minutes later Crafting District
After that strange and 'rewarding?' ordeal, the group was moving through the Crafting District and as the name goes crafting was the trade here; carpentry, pottery, clothing, lumber, steel, glass, and many more materials were collected, refined, and made into something else by masters of creativity.
"This is quite different from the rest of the city." Risabeel mused as the group was moving on by with little trouble due to how well organized the carts and workers were moving about. It was as if everything was set on clockwork never a moment skipped or wasted even with a small group of people who were clearly out of place passing through, in fact, everything seems to work around them as if they were always a part of the routine.
"You can say that again," Blake muttered ahead of the others along with Mordecai. "Whoa!" But instead of keeping an eye on the thief leading the way his eyes gazed over to a large group of blacksmiths all bashing their hammers in time as they all forged items that were packed into crates and loaded into a cart then sent off somewhere.
"Alright! 50 more from all of you!" Someone at the head of blacksmith yelled out, and they all started up again.
"Impressed?" Mordecai asked with a poke of an elbow to Blake's side.
"I guess? My old man and I would take a month and a half to match those guys," Blake admitted while closely watching the smiths work if he had a pen and paper on him he might've have taken some notes down. "...Still makes me wonder why we got orders from here all the time?"
"Huh? Really? I guess you guys did custom jobs right? You know? Some people dig the whole personal touch thing, yeah?" Mordecai asked as he tapped on his swords a little. "Like these two babies right here! They're from a smith up north that might have been made from someone else, heh!" He winked at Blake. "Ugh?" But all that got him was a suspicious set of stares from everyone else even Nash and Os. "Hey, I am a thief?"
"Yeah, but most don't have a month like yours." Blake waved him off playfully, now leaving behind the workforce of smiths but still heard each slam of the hammers they used. "But to what you asked about, yeah, we get customs jobs, but most of the stuff that goes to Gorz is for the army, so it's weird is all."
"The army?" Mordecai had to stop and turn to Blake on that one which was good since a group of workers was moving some wooden beams went by. "...That's really weird? The only time the army should take in items not made in the city is if they're gearing up for war, but I haven't heard anything...?" He trailed off as he scratched his head with a worried look.
"Eh? Well, Reiner, did say that they're upping the orders but then again he's always been working on stuff for the army so I wouldn't be worried, man." Blake answered after thinking back on the times he used to work with Reiner, and it never seemed like the orders were a matter of life and death. "Hell, most of the time he'd put'em off for a few days just to fuck with them."
"Ah, Sir Blake, that is such an unwise way of running a business, yes? I hope you do not repeat such actions," Risabeel commented on despite what little she knew about running a business, it was easy for her to tell that letting work build up to amuse one's self was very unproductive.
"Yeah, yeah, sure thing and don't worry, I'm not going be a workhorse like those guys," Blake promised with a bit of a sigh then looked at Nash. "No offense, bud." He got a light headbutt from the house in thanks.
"Yea! If you work all the time like that, then you wouldn't have time for me!" Mari nagged with puffed out cheeks followed by Os making a copy of herself inside of its jar doing the same thing.
"And that's why I have a work monkey now, right Bread?" Blake looked at Bread, but he wasn't asking a question and was making sure the boy wasn't going to go back on his word.
"It's you or cell, right?" Bread asked in return and didn't need Blake to say anything or do anything to know the answer.
"Not like you/I have a choice," They both thought at the same time.
"Is that allowed?" Mordecai asked not knowing a thing about blacksmith work ethics...or any kind of ethics for that matter.
"Well, I am a master blacksmith since I beat out my old master's best work, so...? Yeah, I can take a stund-!" Blake caught himself and looked at Bread again. "...a work monkey under my wing."
"Huh? Well, by the look of him, you got a monkey for a while." Mordecai nodded up at Bread, making the boy pulled at his eye for him. "Cute!" He just turned right around and continued leading the way.
"Asshole..." Bread whispered at Mordecai's back.
"Now, now, Lad Nobel, despite how he may view you there is no need for such words." Risabeel was now walking along with the kids as Mordecai was pointing things out to Blake with the smith correcting him on things every now and again being the one who knew about crafting items. "...And it appears Sir Blake is beginning to become friendly towards him."
10 Minutes later
"And here we are! The Crafting District's main office!" Mordecai declared cheerfully like a tour guild and did a playful bow for the group.
Behind him was a tall stone building that looked more like a warehouse/factory than an office as the doors to the place were two large steel gates. Large chimneys pumped out thick columns of smokes into the air lucky no one lived too close for that to be a problem, and of course, the sound of work was echoing from it more than any other place around the area.
"That will be 1 gold piece per person, animal, and a Slime, my kind, sir." Mordecai joked as he came up from his bow with a hand held out at Blake.
"How about a fist?" Blake joked back, shaking a fist in Mordecai's face.
To which Mordecai stepped back with his hands up. "Maybe later, I've got something else to take care of...for you guys."
"For us? What are you on about now, thief?" Blake asked with a raised brow as Mordecai was making his way away from the group.
"You'll understand in like 10 minutes!" Mordecai yelled back as he disappeared into a sea of workers.
"Well? That was about the weirdest thing he's done so far" Blake muttered, and with a shrug, he walked up to one of the gates and rattled his fist on it a few times.
"..." After a few moments, a peephole opened up, but oddly enough it was at Blake's knees. "Grr!" A short and high-pitched groan was let out as the peephole was slammed shut followed by another one opening up at Blake's chest on.
"Little higher," Blake told whoever was behind the gate followed by another groan as the peephole closed again and now it sounded like something was get slacked on something else. "There we go!" Blake cheered when a peephole close to his eye level opened up, and a pair of small yellow glossy glass marble-like eyes looked him up and down. "Yo."
"What'd ya want?" A small yet firm high-pitched voice asked.
"Uh, I'm a new blacksmith in town, and I wanted to get registered," Blake told the eyes as nicely as he could get.
"One of ya, huh? Well, ya're in luck the Craftsmaster Deller's in today, hold on a tic." The eyes answered and quickly shut the peephole then came the sound of some gears moving and slowly the gate Blake was at started to slid into the wall. The inside of Crafting District's main office wasn't a lovely lobby with fancy chairs and a good looking secretary but a full-on production floor. It went from the ground floor and into the upper floors of the building with all manner of things being put together from the paint of a child's toy to the finish touches of a carriage's roof.
"..." Safe to say the group was taken aback by it all, Blake got the biggest effect since he actually understood what, how, why, and where everything needed to be for all of it to work without a problem.
"Yea, yea, it's all nice and lovely but stops fucking gawking!" That same high-pitched voice from earlier yelled out, and they all turned to find a stone statue maybe two feet tall at best of a tiny person dressed in leather pants, brown shirt and left their feet bare. On its back was a bag of tools just as big as they were.
Risabeel immediately walked up to this tiny person with curiosity in her eyes. "Oh, my? What a lov-"
"Oi! Girly in the hood! I get it! I'm fucking adorable! But only my beautiful and lovely wife that does not have the voice of a Sea Hag smoking a pipe for ten years gets to say those words to me! So shut yer little hole and let the men speak!" The statue snapped at the moment she got to talking with his eyes turning a fiery red and made Risabeel back up a little.
Risabeel composed herself after that then went up to the statue again. "Ah, but I was simply going to as-"
"What the fuck did I just fucking tell ya!?! I'm a Gnome by the name of Bearytorats! There!" Bearytorats yelled his name out at Risabeel again, making her reel back. "Now! Get this through that tiny brain of yours as best ya can! Shut. Yer. Little. Hole. AND LET THE MEN SPEAK!" His entire body shot up into the air as he screamed as hard as he could.
Earth Dwelling Monster, Gnome: Small in size and voice, these monsters are tiny embodiments of the earth. Who usually take the form of diminutive humanoids or animals made out of minerals within the ground as the 'children of the earth.'
Many of them have some level of ability to control earth with ease and are usually the cause for naturally borne Golems that people mistakenly think are the ones that made Gnomes, however despite the power to move the earth we walk on they are quite frail and often chose to run away over fighting.
Items forged out this monster's Ore are earth empowered tools for crafting such hammers, chisels, and gloves.
"..." Risabeel just slowly moved behind Blake and rested her head on his shoulder in sadness.
"Right? So where's that Deller guy?" Blake asked Bearytorats while acting like nothing happened a moment ago.
Bearytorats pulled out a nail from his tool bag and pointed at an upside-down glass dome at the top of the production floor. "Should be up there. Got some stairs over there, and there, and there, not there, over there..." He muttered as he pointed at some stairs around that weren't in the way of anyone working. "Acting like a god as he watches over all of us ants working our asses off! When you get up there, tell 'im, 'Fuck you!' for me!" He ordered then pointed at Nash outside. "And don't worry about the giant mass of glue out there. I'll watch 'im for ya!"
Blake nodded then waved for Mari and Bread to follow him and Risabeel. "Thanks! Come on, guys, let's leave Mr. Torats alone."
"Don't fucking call me that! Only my boss calls me that and you don't pay me! Now get! I like being alone!" Bearytorats yelled at Blake as he and the others left him to himself. "Nice people." He added with a nod then got back to working on something next to him while shooting Nash a look to make sure he wasn't playing with anything.
And so after going up and switching stairs at different points, the group was now making their way towards the door of Craftsmaster Deller's office via a catwalk set up above everything. The entrance to the office was a door made of a dark almost black type of wood with the emblem of a pair of hammers held by a Phoenix carved into it.
"Let's hope the boss isn't like that Beary guy." Blake hoped as he was about to knock on the door when a nail almost went through his hand and stabbed into the door. ''..." Looking down at the ground floor all he saw was Nash looking back up at him with something small moving around his feet.
"I hope so as well, Sir Blake..." Risabeel whispered quietly.
"Well, he's probably a Dwarf, or maybe an Elf and those guys are nice most of the time," Blake reassured her as he held up his hand to knock again then wait for an answer.
"Huh? Come in..." A low and gruff man's voice answered as a 'click' was heard from behind the door.
"Greetings..." Blake stepped inside first and was greeted with the sight of a rather dull looking office it even though it was inside an upside-down glass dome.
All it had to it was a large desk lined with slacks of papers tall and random Ores of different colors with an equally as large leather armchair behind it while a small steel chair was in front of it. On the right side of the office was a wall display case, showing all kind of tools, gadgets, and blueprints. On the left was charts and graph showing the city's current production output on about...everything? From Blake's best guess.
"Ah..." That same gruff voice came from a tall and bulky figure standing next to the desk as he was looking over everything that was going on below his office. He was dressed in a pair of brown boots, black pants, and a long dark red coat jacket with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.
"Hmm?" Taking a closer look at the figure Black noted green skin, slightly pointed ears and that his left arm from the elbow down was metallic like he was wearing a gauntlet.
"Welcome, I am Craftsmaster Deller." Deller turned around to show a blocky face that bore a pair of tusks sticking out his mouth and thick black eyebrows above his honey orange eyes with a pair of small glasses resting in his wart-covered nose. His coat jacket was partly unbuttoned to show a bit of his large and powerful chest. "Hmm?" He took notice of the stares of the group, mostly Risabeel then pushed his glasses over his eyes. "Is it the fact that I am an Orc..." He held up his left arm, which was made out of iron and gears. "...the arm, or both?"
Humanoid Monster, Orc: One of the more civilized races of monsters in the world. Orcs are large, powerful, and usually aggressive to a fault, often coming in different skin colors such as green, red, blue, white, brown, etc. with each one giving a bit of insight on how that type of Orc acts.
Other races often view them as simple-minded folk who only know of war and combat. However, they are actually quite knowledgeable when it comes nature even rivaling the smarts of Elves in some areas and are also good at crafting as many centuries of mastering the art of war has made them always thinking of how to make something faster, better, and easier anyone of their kind.
Items forged out of this monster's Ore are warhammer, claymore, clubs with a bit of added power behind them.
"A bit of both, Craftsmaster Deller," Risabeel answered, stepping away from Blake a bit with Deller still towering over them at about 7 feet tall. "I have never seen one such as yourself in person and only knew of your kind from books."
"Really, now? You've never seen an Orc? That's a new one, hah!" Deller let out a quick laugh from his throat sounding like a low growl. "Alright, then so what can I do for you all? Most people don't come up here unless it's important."
"Oh? I'm here looking to get register as an official blacksmith." Blake stepped up to answer then heard something like glass breaking. "Huh?" When he looked around both he and Deller were staring at a nail that was shot at the dome. "Oh? Uh, hmm?" Blake was trying to explain what that was about while Deller was pushing his glasses down to rub his eyes.
"Mr. Torats told you to tell me; 'Fuck you' right?" Deller asked with his fingers pulling at his face. "Don't mind him... no wait, do mind him. The last time he got someone in the eye with one of those things..." He shook his head then went over to his desk and a random looking paper from the stacks there. "...Let's get this over with shall we? It's always good to see new blood in the business makes the others do better." He smiled as he motioned Blake over to come closer while twisting the pointer finger of his iron hand, turning it into a finger pen. "First off, name."
"Blake, no last name," Blake answered as he and the others came up to Deller's desk, he did bother taking the seat there.
"Right, that's normal; don't see many high born in this business." Deller nodded as he took that down. "Are you planning on working for yourself or under a company contract? If the latter? Please tell me the name of the said company, and I shall provide you with all the benefits you would gain from them."
"Freelance, mostly custom jobs," Blake lightly explained what he was planning on doing in terms of blacksmith jobs then followed up with where he was going to be working from, the name of his smithy and how he wasn't a citizen of Gorz.
"Out of city, huh? Where're you from, kid?" Deller muttered, paying a little less attention to Blake as he was getting Blake's papers ready, making sure everything was in place for him. "...Aww, the usual big dreamer type, eh? I wonder how long it'll take before he's working for me?"
"Oh? Just a little town down south called Fairmaw..." Blake answered but the moment the name Fairmaw left his lips Deller stabbed his finger pen into his desk with an unnerving grinding sound coming from the gears in his metal arm. "...Ugh? Is there a problem?"
"Depends...? Do you know a blacksmith by the name of...Reiner?" Deller's already intimidating voice was now full of quick growls and snorts as if he could jump at someone of any given reason.
"Y-y-yeah, he's my old man and master," Blake reluctantly answered while watching this formerly calm and quiet Orc slowly raise from his desk with Blake's almost finished registration form roughly gripped in his hands. "I've got a bad feeling about this."
"Grr-! Well, then..." Deller growled at first then switched back to his refined tone just before he tore apart the form and tossed it into a fireplace he had in his office. "...I refuse to let you work. Now get out..." He muttered after wiping his hands clean before lowing himself back down on his desk.
"What the hell!?!" Blake yelled as he slammed his hands down on Deller's desk. "What's your deal!?"
"My reasons are my own, boy," Deller answered as he fixed his desk back in order after Blake knocked some of his things around, then brought his hands together to look at Blake. "Either wait until I get replaced in about ten years or work in some other city."
"What!? I'm not doing either of those! I've trained and worked my ass off for most of my life! And Gorz is the place I picked to start things! So you're going to do this!" Blake leaned into Deller's face as he shouted at the craftsmaster.
"Hmm...?" Who was simply listening to Blake, and once the enraged teen was done, Deller just pushed his glasses up. "If you're going to be so rude about my decision to refuse a useless excuse for a smith like you especially one trained by that Reiner then get out."
"What's so bad about my old man?" Blake asked hands still firmly press on Deller's desk and his face glaring at the bespectacled Orc in front of him.
"Indeed, craftsmaster Deller, you say that you shall not allow Sir Blake to work and it appears Sir Reiner is the main cause yet you have not told us a thing on the matter." Risabeel pointed out staying where she was not as quick to take action as Blake was, even though she wanted to walk up to him and pull him back.
"Hmph, I'd rather not remember what that man did to me..." Deller muttered, rubbing his mechanical arm a few times as he stared out of his dome.
"Hah! As far as I can tell, that's an improvement!" Blake spat at Deller not giving a damn about the Orc's missing limb or any emotional problems bringing it up might have on him due to the simple fact that this asshole is trying to shut down his dreams.
"Sir Blake, that was unneeded!" Risabeel lectured from the background, but she already knew once Blake got mad enough, nothing would stop him. "I'm sorry for my friend's words, craftsmaster." She did a low bow of her head in apologize.
"This wasn't Reiner doing?" Deller held up his iron arm to the two of them and along with Mari and Bread got confused. "This was from your mother if she's still with Reiner...I had an unarmed fight with her once and...this was the result..." He explained solemnly as he started off again.
"..." A deathly and collective silence came over the office as no one inside wanted to even ask about how in what way possible that Blake's mother was capable of taking off someone's arm from the elbow down without the need of weapon with Deller being an Orc making it even more unbelievable.
Except for Bread who leaned over to Mari and whispered. "Your mom beat an Orc?"
"Yep! She's super strong from fighting bears." Mari answered with a hand smacking her small biceps as she pumped her right arm up, which only left more questions for the boy that he didn't want to ask right now.
Finally, after letting Deller take his time to remember or more likely to forget about how he lost his arm, Blake mustered up the willingness to speak. "...Alright, fine, not gonna ask about that one, but why do you hate my old man so much? What the fuck did he do to you?"
"Grrr! You're just as stubborn as him...so I'll talk to get you out of here..." Deller muttered as he turned back to Blake. "...back before I was made craftsmaster of Gorz, in fact, before Gorz was really called Gorz still being built up by the Founding Houses. Reiner and I used to be part of a guild, a damn good one at that...long story short the both of us had perry good reputations at in the crafting business. Me as a tinker and him as a blacksmith, so when it came time to appoint someone in charge of production inside Gorz. The two of us were looked at, and neither of us wanted to work with the other...our personalities didn't agree that much, and we came up with a competition between ourselves, 'Whoever makes the best item gets to be craftsmaster'..." He paused to look over at his wall display of tools and mechanical gadgets, putting a smile on his face.
"I am sorry to interrupt you, craftsmaster, but as far as I can see you are the current holder of the title of the competition's winner between yourself and Sir Reiner which would only mean that you won...?" Risabeel pointed out but the moment Deller snapped to look at her with his tusks fully showed she went quiet.
"If that were the case, then we wouldn't be having this talk now, would we?" Deller asked as he pulled back his tusks so that he wouldn't growl at her anymore. "Now, back to it...the both of us made the best Goddess damn thing we could think of then, we put them to the test...GRRR!" Again Deller's tusk showed between his lips to let out a low bestial growl that made even Blake back up. "I...I lost, and that bastard! Just looked at me and said; 'I did it for fun so you can be craftsmaster, Dell!'"
"Yep, that sounds like the old man/dad.," Both Blake and Mari thought at the same time as Deller went into a set of low growls and snorts as if he wanted to rip a certain someone in half.
"...I do not understand why you would consider that a wrong done to you, Craftsmaster Deller?" Risabeel asked quite confused by Deller's rage towards Reiner.
"..." After coming out his small fit of anger, Deller looked at Risabeel. "...I put my everything into what I made it was by far my masterpiece! And it got outdone by Reiner's work...but instead honoring our competition...he treated it like a game as if he already knew the outcome and was simply playing with me, but understand this! I may not be like many of my brethren, but when it comes to our pride at whatever we do, we keep it close to our hearts...Grrrr! And he dealt the hardest blow to my pride that anyone has ever been able to do."
"...Working your ass for something and not achieving it is one thing, but after failing and having it tossed to your feet like a pity prize is another thing, right?" Blake stated as he crossed his arms after thinking about Deller's story with the Orc nodding back to him. "But just because I understand why you're doing this doesn't mean I am going to let you..." He moved back to the front of Deller's desk, getting narrowed eyes and sharp tusks pointed at him. "...a competition's what started this so let's settle it with another one, eh?"
"Bah! That's funny, boy! You really think you can beat me just because Reiner trained you!? Gahahah!" Deller laughed his head off at Blake's offer and slammed his hands down the next moment. "...You don't even have the stones to compete with me!"
Blake laughed right back at Deller. "Hah! I didn't mean you, green ma! I meant me against your best man since I'm Reiner's best (and only) student should be a good fight, right?" He explained, throwing a hand down on Deller's desk to lean in on him.
"Hmm?" Deller was silent for a moment then rose up to quickly stared down at Blake and cast the young man in his shadow. "My best man against you?" He asked while rubbing his normal hand to his chin with a tusk bearing grin coming to his face as Blake nodded. "Interesting? You still don't have a Goblin's ass of chance in winning though, and I don't really see what I get out of watching you lose like a fool."
"Well, what better way of showing everyone in Gorz that you're better than Reiner than having your most well-trained guy beating someone who learned everything they know about crafting from the one who beat you all those years ago, eh?" Blake pointed out, watching Deller mull over it, but he didn't look like he was any more interested in the bet then sat down again and started doing what looked like to Blake simple paperwork. "Hey! Don't just ignore me! I don't care what it is I have to do! You're making me an official blacksmith! Orc!"
"..." However, Deller seemed to have blocked Blake out as he wrote something down and rolled it up with a seal similar to the emblem had on his door stamped into it then stood up once he was done. "You do custom jobs, right?" He asked as he handed Blake a rolled up scroll.
"Ugh? Y-y-yeah?" Blake mumbled over his word taken for a loop at Deller's behavior as he walked over to his display rack.
"Hmm?" Deller picked and poked at some of his creations, making sure they in the right place and in working order. "No, that wouldn't work for this in that case..." After changing up where he had some of his things, he turned to Blake. "I'd like to see some of your skill, so go out and make something."
"What? That's not what I told you? I want to go up against your best guy and beat him!" Blake yelled at Deller, feeling as if this Orc wasn't taking him or his offer seriously. "And isn't it a bit unfair for you to judge my work!?"
"No, no, you have me wrong, kid?" Deller shook his head with a hand held up. "I'm not the one who's going to see if your skill is up to Gorz's standards that's going to be the honor of some of the blacksmith heads that I'm in charge of, if they approve of you, I'd gladly let you come up short against Anthony."
"So that your best man? Anthony, huh? Sounds like he's your favorite if you think he can beat me even after I get done with part 1 of this bet of ours." Blake grinned since he got his one and only chance to show up this Orc tinker.
"Gah! I'm talking about my replacement as craftsmaster here and just to be nice! I'll give you a week to make sure you get as much time as possible if you get by, then I'll let you decide how you want to take on, Anthony!" Deller declared, matching Blake's grin with one of his own. "Good luck!" Once everything was in place, Deller held out his iron hand to Blake.
"You're on!" Blake roughly took Deller's hand in his feeling the cold streel and shook, beginning their bet for Blake's dreams and Deller's pride. "Hope you're ready to lose, Orc!" He taunted the craftsmaster of Gorz as he and the others left Deller's office.
"Hmph! Just like you that one," Deller muttered to himself as he went back to his desk. "But this time, things are different, Reiner!"
Outside of Crafting District Main office
"So? How did things go in there?" Mordecai asked while resting on a wall as Blake and co came out along with Nash. "And when did he get those?" He pointed at Nash's brand new set of horseshoes.
"On? A Gnome with a bad mouth gave Nash those after I told his boss to fuck off." Blake explained, leaving Mordecai with a confused look and was about to ask about that when Blake shook his head. "Do not ask me why it just happened...and I ran into a bit of a problem in there. The guy in charge has some history with my old man, and he almost shot me down, but I convinced him to make a bet with me; if I win then I can work, if I lose, then I'm leaving for another city."
"Shit...that's rough, what's the bet?" Mordecai asked, after listening to Blake.
"First, I've got to make an item that'll impress the top blacksmiths here then I can go up against his beat man in about a week, hmm? Now, what to make and with what?" Blake answered then thought about which Ore and what kind of item to make. "I've got that Pound Trapper, Fiend Gargoyle, Steel Golem, and a lot of Bomber Golem Ore on me. I should be able to make something good with one of those."
"Damn, then what do I do with this?" While Blake was thinking to himself, Mordecai pulled out a rolled up scroll.
"Hmm? What's that?" Blake took notice to it, bringing him out his brainstorming.
"Well? Since you're a blacksmith and we're friends..." Mordecai started, but Blake raised an eyebrow at 'friends' making him stop. "...acquaintances...?" Now Blake was crossing his arms and shrug his shoulders. "...Okay fine! I am trying to use you here, but it's for the benefit of both of us! Now read!" The thief admitted then unrolled the scroll and pushed it into Blake's face.
"Huh?" In Blake's face was quest post of some kind.
Stomping out embers
Quest Giver: Seth, reeve of Randale.
Info: There is a group of Willo-Wisp currently lighting the farming fields of Randale on fire usually at dusk and dawn. The Quest Giver would like someone to come deal with them before they start targeting homes.
Time limit: None.
Reward: 10 slivers per Willo-Wisp.
"You're going after fireflies now? I thought you were a thief, not an exterminator," Blake dryly muttered as he finished reading through it skipping over the part about the directions and pushed the quest back at Mordecai.
"Which is why you're going to do it!" Mordecai declared as he grabbed Blake's hands and forced the quest into his hand.
"And who says I gonna do that!" Blake yelled back at Mordecai pushing the quest back to him.
"Aww, come on! I'm being nice here! And wouldn't you like to help a bunch of people before something bad happens to them?" Mordecai insisted, but his words weren't meant for Blake to hear.
"Not re-" Blake was about to decline the thief again, but a small delicate hand came into view and took the quest from him. "Dammit!"
"Sir Blake! How could you deny the offer to help people in need!?" Risabeel, the owner of the hand, lectured Blake with the quest now rolled up and used to point harshly at him. "Not only would it put you in the good light of the people, but it is also a perfect chance to get Ore, for your upcoming dual, correct?"
"But Risabeel that's not really my pro-! Ow!" Blake tried to protest, but Risabeel hit him with the rolled quest. "Fine! We'll do it! Okay!" He blurted out when Risabeel got ready from another swing reminding Blake of himself when he fights. "Huh? Guess she picks up on stuff being a sword sometimes." He thought as she lowered her arm.
"Good to hear! Be safe, you guys!" Mordecai cheered as he turned to leave the group and go on his way. "AH!" Until a firm hand grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back. "Hey! What gives?!"
"Where are you off to after roping me into this?" Blake questioned, pointing at the quest in Risabeel's hand while narrowing his eyes at Mordecai.
"This!" Mordecai brought out another rolled up quest scroll. "While you're doing that, I'm doing this, got it?" He explained then wiggled out of Blake's hold on. "Don't worry. I'll come back here in a week to cheer you on in your bet, thief's honor!"
"That's not reassuring coming from a thief but fine, I kind of getting how you work," Blake muttered, already knowing by the way this guy acts that he'd find some way of making Blake okay with anything that came out of his mouth. "And I bet you'll want another favor after I win, right?"
"I never said that?" Mordecai grinned from ear to ear at the sound of that. "But if you do win you? Then I've got something exciting to talk with you about...laters!" After saying that he disappeared into the crowd around them.
"What have I gotten myself into now?" Blake asked himself as he took the quest from Risabeel to see where Randale was in Gorz.
Chapter End
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Slices of life
This is not a continuous story, this is just me writing everyday scenes based on three random words I use to prompt whatever comes to mind. It might converge somehow. Mostly this is practise, but I hope you enjoy the little scenes and places I manage to go
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It was said that reading takes a person to another world.. When I heard this for the first time, I considered it just one of the old women's exaggerations.. I did not imagine that it might actually happen!
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It had been five years since the game Royalroad first appeared. A new expansion had been released and one person was assigned by his company to review it. That was the beginning of the story of a lazy, unheroic character who would meet others just as lacking in the heroism department as he was. Still life (or virtual life) throws you curve balls and you never know what will happen.
8 245Echoes of Ruin
Ruthven is a soldier that works under the Defense Squadron of Carlisle. One day when he encounters a demon upon beating it realizes his wounds were fatal and will kill him. Faced with the choice to live and accept a curse or die and leave everything behind, he decides to live. Once the curse is afflicted, however, there is no turning back. This is a tale of Ruthven, a normal man, through his own desperation becomes The King Of Ruin.
8 118The Assignment Of a Demon
Lena Firth is being stalked by some strange, creepy figure and she suspects that he has connection with the crimes that happened in the past, involving the murder of a family and a missing child. After the Oswalt family massacre she meets the deputy who shares the information with her and agrees to help. Little does she know what she will have to deal with after these events...
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