Into the Light (Axe Druid Book 1)

by Christopher Johns

  The other two were hulking Wolf Beast-kin. They had grey fur and weapons on their sides, like they could be mercenaries. One held a cudgel, a club but made of metal with teeth on it. It looked pretty threatening to me, especially under the boy’s chin. Cudgel had his yellow eyes scanning his surroundings for passersby. His back was to the trees, and his friend was intent on the boy, so neither saw me behind a water barrel.

  “You’re too good to buy two starvin’ Beast-kin a meal with the coin you’re flashin’ about?” said Cudgel. “What’re you too good to associate with us? We not good enough for your charity?”

  “I told you—I only had enough to feed my little sister and me,” the boy tried to explain calmly. He was brave, that’s for sure. I wasn’t going to stand for this. The two wolves were only level 4, but the boy was level 2. I could do this.

  I snuck around the building behind them and into the bushes in front of me. Around the back of the houses, I noticed some storage crates stacked high enough for me to jump onto the roof. I leapt from my hiding spot to the boxes and made my way to the roof across from the boy. I shifted back to my normal form and waited until the boy saw me. His eyes widened a bit, but I shushed him with a finger to my lips and motioned for him to keep his eyes on them. They were saying something about paying a visit to his sister, and that was my queue to intervene.

  I changed into my panther form and dropped onto Cudgel’s back and hissed menacingly at the other wolf from my position. Cudgel’s health was down a quarter of the way. I guess I had gotten a good sneak attack.

  Yippee.

  I transformed again as the wolf beneath me started to grunt and call for help.

  “Hush, little wolf, or I’ll make you,” I said, dropping my voice a couple octaves and adopting a commanding tone. “I despise banditry in my village. Leave now, and you keep your lives. Stay or try anything—ANYTHING—near here or anywhere I can find you, and I will end you. Gruesomely.”

  I looked down at the wolf beneath my foot; the whole time he had been struggling fruitlessly to escape, but I kept him pinned.

  “Return the child’s money.” The wolf in front of me stepped back a bit. “Ah, ah. Don’t run. Return the money, then flee. Do anything stupid—I decide on how hungry I am and how into wolf stew I am. Do we have an understanding?”

  They mumbled, and it kind of pissed me off, so I stepped a little harder on Cudgel’s back. I heard some bones crack. The wolf in front of me tossed his coin purse at the boy and sprinted past me into the forest.

  “You too,” I said, leaning down to look into the wolf’s eyes. All I saw was fear and hatred. Good.

  He reached down and pulled his purse out, then placed it at the boy’s feet. I picked up his cudgel, tossed it into the woods, and heard a yelp. I let the wolf up, and he fled without looking back. I turned to the boy his eyes wet with tears.

  “You were very brave just now,” I said softly. I picked up the coin purses and counted out about fifty silver between the two. I handed it to him and patted his shoulder comfortingly.

  “But sir, they hadn’t taken anything from me yet,” he said, holding the bag back out.

  “Think of it as payment for emotional distress.” I grinned and pushed his hand back. “Come on now, let’s go get that food you ordered. I’m sure your sister is hungry.”

  We went into the inn across the street and got the food he ordered before he was tricked into going outside where those two asshats had almost robbed him. I took him back to his sister, who had begun to worry. She explained that I was a customer and that I had treated her well. The boy and girl thanked me heartily and tucked into their meal. It was good to see they were okay.

  I walked away with a smile and wandered toward the smithy. I walked in to see Rowland hammering something and heard his deep voice chanting in what could only be Dwarven. I could see light channeling from the forge into his hands and hammer, but I couldn’t see the product.

  “He’s channeling the heat of the forge to assist him in the production of your great axe,” whispered the lovely carpenter behind me. I jumped a bit, and she smiled. I hadn’t heard her because I was enraptured by the steady sound of the hammer shaping the metal.

  “Is he enchanting it?” I asked in wonder.

  “No, merely channeling,” she explained. “He is pulling the heat into his work and body to feed his muscles and stamina. It allows him to keep the metal heated properly and hammer it into shape without rest. He had been looking for an excuse to use it when you came along. He had just unlocked the ability, but I’ve not seen it used, only heard of it being done.”

  I nodded in appreciation and kept my eyes on him. He kept chanting and hammering.

  “It looks like he underestimated the time it might take,” she said after about ten minutes. “Why don’t you go look around. A great weapon is wonderful, but having a more compact alternative never hurts.”

  She was right. I hadn’t thought about all the books and games I had played with characters that had strong weapons who are brought low by the inability to use them in tight spaces.

  I went to look over some of the swords. The craftsmanship was flawless, of course. Rowland didn’t seem like the type to allow shoddy work to be seen, let alone sold here.

  I looked over the varying sizes of swords, and nothing caught my eye. I walked over the table with a myriad of small blades and daggers. I found a long dagger about the size of my forearm and almost as wide. It felt light in my hands, and the balance seemed great. The hilt of the dagger was a little lighter than the blade, and while I was no expert, I imagined that it would help if it was thrown.

  Great Dagger

  +3 to attacks

  Works well as a projectile by a practiced hand

  Weight: 5Ibs

  Made by Master Smith Rowland in Sunrise Village.

  This dagger alone was already better than my Beginner’s Axe. I wondered how much stronger my great axe would be, in comparison. I brought the weapon up to the counter, then sat down on the floor near the entryway to the forge area. The ringing of metal against metal was softer now but no less fervent. I closed my eyes for what seemed like a moment and drifted off.

  I awoke to a tap on my forehead by the carpenter—man, I really should learn her name. She motioned for me to follow her, and I got up and stretched. I was a little stiff, but my new body eased back into a feeling of normalcy rather quickly. I could get used to this, I thought.

  We moved to the forge area, and the heat seemed to be a living thing. It was fierce even though I could see the fires had died down significantly since I had last seen them. The dull glow from the forge and shuttered light from the windows gave off enough light that my dark vision didn’t activate, but I could still see. There was the forge in the center of the room and about fifteen feet of space to the walls on each side. The walls were lined with shelves of metal ingots and tools. At the back of the room, there looked to be bins for dark wood, coke, and coal with a quenching barrel in a sand pit in a far corner of the room.

  Rowland stood to the side with his hands on his hips and a smile on his Dwarven face.

  “Come see, lad,” he said, motioning to the table beside him. On it there was what could only be his latest work under a heavy sheet obscuring it from view.

  “I’m thinking that ye’ll like it,” he said with pride. He lifted the sheet, and all I could do was grin.

  The blade itself was a thing of deadly beauty, about a foot and a half from top to bottom on the bladed portion and tapered into the base of the head. Sharpened properly, not razor sharp like most say because it would make the blade brittle and break easily. On the other side of the head, a bladed pick came out. It looked like the pick portion of a pickaxe, but instead of four squared sides, the bottom portion had an edge to slash with, kind of like a scythe.

  I moved from the blade to the handle and was in just as much awe—dark wood almost red in hue with strips of ridged metal between dark leather grips. A small rounded pommel with a slight po
int to the bottom completed the piece.

  “Let me explain,” Rowland said excitedly. “The haft of the axe has an attached metal core to give it stability, and the Blood Tree heartwood panels are tapped into gaps around the metal core to soften the vibration ye might feel. Secured the head to them. From there, the wood is glued together and sanded down, then bound together further by the leather grips and the metal guard. At the bottom, ye’ll notice a piece that looks almost like the pommel of a sword. The head of a great axe is the beauty of the weapon, but in good hands, the haft and end can be just as deadly. Should you decide to brain an opponent with that, well, ye will find out yerself.”

  He chuckled to himself and took the weapon in his hands. All said and done, the weapon was almost up to my chest when resting on the ground. Rowland turned and walked out a door I hadn’t noticed into a fenced in backyard.

  Once there, I could truly see the splendor of the weapon. It was beautiful. The wood was blood red, and the black grips made it look formidable, to say the least.

  “Tiny, you go ahead and explain yer portion of the weapon.” The Dwarf smiled at the Carpenter behind me.

  “Sarah, Rowland. Call me Sarah,” she said as if she had explained it hundreds of times. She walked over to stand beside the Dwarf and pointed to the wood.

  “Blood Tree wood itself is rare in these parts, but luckily, I came into a small grove of the trees a few months back,” she explained. “The wood is fickle and difficult to work with in general; heartwood is almost impossible unless you have the skills that I do. You got lucky. The wood is hard, like rock, and very resistant to cutting and slashing. It will make an excellent handle, and also, thank you for giving me an excuse to test my own skills. I leveled up while working that wood today.”

  I congratulated her, and she muttered something about getting back to work, then stormed off.

  “Ah, that poor lass,” Rowland sighed and stared after the woman.

  “You know,” I started. “When you said ‘goofy looking’, I expected someone the complete opposite of Sarah.”

  “Aye, she is goofy looking,” he said confused. “She has not one bit of a Dwarven lady’s charm no matter how hard I tried when I was raising her. Did me best, I truly did, but she just kept growing taller and skinnier by the year. She’s scrawny and couldn’t tip the barrel of mead if she tried. Poor lass. Picked her own name, though! Said to me, she said, ‘Da am no’ Scrawny Arms, lass, Tiny, or even girl. I am Sarah. That’s me.’”

  He sighed at the memory. “Right proud of her I was. Weird name, but she’s stubborn as a mule. Gets that from me, I’m guessin’.”

  I couldn’t stop laughing long enough to breathe right, and I’m pretty sure I may have offended my new friend by the confusion on his face.

  “By human standards,” I gasped trying to catch my breath, “she is considered beautiful, or at least I think of her that way.”

  “Are ye daft, lad?” he asked cautiously. “Be ye teasing me now?

  I shook my head, smiling, and the brawny blacksmith’s eyes lit up. Then he bolted my way. He picked me up and crushed me as he danced around in circles whooping in joy. I had to duck and weave my head to keep from being impaled or cut by my own axe.

  “Glorious Radiance!” he called. “Me girl is a beauty! Hahahahaha!”

  We both laughed when he put me back on my feet. He handed me my weapon, and as soon as I touched it, the information screen popped up.

  Blood Great Axe

  +5 to attacks

  Perfectly balanced to deal death and destruction.

  Weight: 30Ibs

  Made by Master Smith Rowland and Journeyman Carpenter Sarah in Sunrise Village.

  “It’s beautiful, Rowland.” I admired the weapon in my hand. “Thank you.”

  He stepped back and indicated that I should give it a whirl. He had a block of wood ready, and I stepped up to chop it in half. I lifted the great axe and could feel the weight of it; it didn’t bother me much, but I knew increasing my strength and constitution would help to keep me from getting too tired mid-battle.

  The wood block didn’t stand a chance. The head of the monstrous axe whistled through the air, and the wood flew apart. Rowland grinned at my glee and asked if I wanted another go. He had more wood that needed chopping. I thanked him and begged off of that. We walked back inside, and he laid the axe gently on the counter.

  “How much do I owe you for all this?” I asked, pointing to the great axe and dagger. I held up a hand to stop him before he started. “A fair price. You worked hard on these, and I take care of my friends.”

  He thought for a moment, pulled out an abacus, and started to flick the little, multicolored beads back and forth. When he finally stopped, he looked at me with a shy look, and it looked like he didn’t want to say.

  “Tell me what I owe, Rowland,” I said calmly.

  “With everything entered in, materials and labor, it’ll run ye about five gold. I’ll split that with the lass, and since she leveled, she won’t charge as much. Now, if ye don’t ha–“

  “Done,” I said and reached into my inventory for the required amount. I pulled out an extra gold piece and put the five on the table. He stared at the money for a moment, then reached for it slowly. I grabbed his wrist and turned his palm over to give him the extra gold piece.

  “You took care of me today,” I said softly. “I appreciate that. You didn’t have to do what you did. You are an honorable and great craftsman. Thank you, brother.”

  He smacked the gold onto the table with a smile and rushed into the back. He came back out with a sheath for my dagger. It was sturdy, brown leather. Simple. I liked it.

  “When does yer questing begin?” he asked with a big grin shining through his beard.

  “We leave tomorrow for the castle ruins.”

  “Good. If yer staying with ol’ Sir at his Tavern, I’ll be by later with a gift of me own.”

  “I’ll see you in a bit then, Rowland.”

  I left the smithy after putting my great axe and dagger into my inventory. I walked down to Sarah’s shop and walked in. I heard sawing and called out to the woman. She popped around the corner with a scowl until she saw me, and then her scowl turned into a look of confusion.

  “I came to give you something,” I said. I’d already pulled two gold pieces from my funds. All said and done, today had put me down to four hundred ninety gold, ninety silver, and two copper. A lot better than I thought. I knew I still had my armor tomorrow to get, but that would be then. This was important.

  “My da’ will have taken my share of the fee when you paid ‘im,” she tried to explain, but I held up a hand.

  “Where I come from, you give extra when you particularly like a product and you feel it’s worth more than what the seller says.” I strode over and held out my closed fist with the coins inside.

  She slowly held her own hand out beneath mine. I dropped the two coins into hers, and she gasped.

  “I also believe in equal pay for equal work,” I said with a smile. “Leveling up is good and all, but if you told the truth about that wood, it was hard on you, too. Rowland has the other two gold for you. Thank you for your hard work.”

  She was still staring at the gold and nodding as I left. I made my way back through the square and waved at the little girl and her brother. They were safe, good. I walked leisurely back to the tavern and headed in. The others were still out, I supposed.

  Sir Dillon had opened the tavern once more as a way of wishing us all well, so some of the locals were there lounging and drinking, telling tales of their adventures in the forest, fish they caught and their daily lives. It was good to hear that they didn’t have the constant fear of being enslaved by some galactic asshole on their hearts. These were good folk. I wanted them to stay that way.

  My friends came back a little later. They all sported fresh clothes, and their gear was tucked away for tomorrow. Tonight was all about relaxation and being together with the community.

  Ther
e was a raucous roar outside the tavern, and I stood to get a better view from my spot at the back of the room. The door burst open, and all I saw was a barrel weaving through tables and people.

  “Where’s the traveler who thought me girl was a beauty?!” shouted Rowland.

  “Rowland!” I yelled back and shot over to him. My friends visibly relaxed and started to smile. They had probably expected a brawl.

  We clasped hands and patted shoulders. He patted his barrel and lifted it onto the bar.

  “Willem, my friend, if you would do the honors?” The blacksmith handed the knight bartender a tap, and the man smiled. He nodded, tapped the barrel, and poured a couple mugs. Then he poured some more. And more. Not one patron was without a mug of the Dwarven brew.

  Rowland raised his hand and began to speak. He thanked the community for their unity and perseverance. He praised the farmers and craftsmen for their hard work and sweat. Then he turned to the Gods for their continued blessings even as they battled for their people’s freedom.

  At last, he turned to my friends and me.

  “To our hope, do we raise our mugs and drink our fill,” he said as his voice took on a more sing-song quality. “To fight through good and through ill. They come to stand as sword and shield and heed our hopes, results they yield! Drink! Be merry! And get those bastards!”

  Everyone drank, well, except Yohsuke; he never did care for drinking. He waited until the Wolf Beast-kin next to him wasn’t paying attention then poured his mug into hers with a smile.

  Everyone drank and had a great time. Rowland kept calling me his brother and feeding me more of his home-brewed mead. He called it Forge Mead because the hops he used were heated in his forge and added a little of the wood used to heat the concoction to give it flavor. It was sweet with strawberries brushed to a pulp and fermented but had an earthy undertone on hops. I couldn’t quite put my finger on all the different tastes. So, in true Dwarven fashion, I drank until I couldn’t stand. Then drank some more. It was a great time.