Battleborne Book 2: Wrack and Ruin

by Dave Willmarth

  “Ah, gotcha. See, it’s the little things like that where I rely so heavily on your judgement, Redmane. Thank you.” Max got to his feet and stepped up the two steps of the dais before taking a seat on the throne.

  The last of the tables was being set near a side wall when Teeglin arrived through the main doors with six minotaurs walking behind her. “Here they are!” She called out happily, causing Redmane to sigh and shake his head in resignation. Max just pretended not to notice the lack of protocol.

  Redmane took over, motioning for the girl to stand behind him at the bottom of the dais. “Your Majesty, may I present Barlon, Elder of the Thunderhoof Clan, who has requested an audience.”

  Max smiled without showing his fangs. “Welcome, Elder Barlon and members of the Thunderhoof Clan. I hope your stay here in Stormhaven has been a comfortable one?”

  Barlon bowed at the waist, immediately followed by his followers. “It has indeed, Your Majesty. And thank you for taking the time to meet with us. It is an honor.”

  “Of course. You are, in fact, my first official visitors! Now, what was it you wished to discuss?”

  “My clan and I request your permission to join your kingdom, become citizens of Stormhaven, Majesty.” The elder bowed again, just his head this time. “Our home has become… inhospitable, of late. We seek to settle in new lands, and have heard that you welcome all races here.”

  “Inhospitable?” Max was curious as to what might drive away an entire clan of minotaurs.

  “We lived in the mountains, not far from here. Three days’ walk overland. Our village has stood for nearly four hundred years, and though we are not a prosperous clan, we were comfortable. Until recently, that is. We have been… invaded, Majesty. Undead creatures have attacked our village, slaughtered our livestock. Those things we can handle. But they have also fouled our water supply, a stream that runs down the mountain from above. They have piled corpses in the water upstream of the village, contaminating it. We tried several times to clear it, removing the corpses and burning them, but more appear in other places within a day or two. Many of my people were sickened by the fouled water, and three of our children died, only to have their corpses rise as undead.”

  Alarms went off in Max’s head. Everything he knew of undead was based either on Earth movies and TV, or the fight he’d had with the necromancer in the orc arena. That fight had showed him that zombies were basically unthinking drudges that moved as commanded, not intelligent creatures that might band together to repeatedly foul a water supply. Which meant that someone was likely controlling them.

  “That sounds like odd behavior for a bunch of zombies.” Max looked to Redmane, who nodded. “And I don’t like the idea of a pack of undead wandering about so near our home. This bears investigating, as soon as possible.” He looked at the elder minotaur. Would one of your people be willing to guide me back there in the near future?”

  “I’ll take you there myself, Majesty.” Barlon agreed.

  “Thank you. In the meantime, you and your clan are absolutely welcome to join us. Were you thinking of a particular place you’d like to settle? And how many of you are there?”

  “There are sixty of us, including children, Majesty. And we were hoping to settle in the lands near the base of the mountains. Some of us have family and friends in other settlements within the mountains, and would like to be close enough to visit them occasionally.”

  “Are you… farmers? Crafters? What kind of land would best suit you?”

  “We do have a few farmers among us. I myself am an enchanter. We have hunters, miners, crafters of most trades, and of course all of us train as warriors, a tradition of our people.”

  Max nodded, thinking furiously. Having several dozen massive warriors wanting to live in the buffer zone between his city and the orcs was a real opportunity. “I can think of several appropriate places in my newly acquired lands south of the ridge line. There is a way station already constructed not five miles from a mine we captured from the orcs. There are several newly established farms nearby. Your people could take up residence there while you scout locations. There’s also a temple ruins that we are repairing using stone from a nearby quarry, if you have masons in need of temporary work. Or you’re welcome to remain here in the city if you prefer.”

  “Thank you, Majesty. My clan is camped in a nearby cavern for now. This way station sounds like an improvement, and a chance to get back out under the open sky. How many days’ walk is it from here?”

  Max grinned. “Less than one! Once you’ve gathered your people here and taken the oath that Redmane will administer, he’ll send you through a portal that’ll drop you at the temple. From there it is a six mile walk to the way station. You may even be able to borrow a wagon or two at the mine to help you transport gear and your little ones. I must warn you, the existence of that temple is not to be shared with anyone. Also, I am at war with An’zalor and his orc army. That way station, the mine, and the temple may come under attack at any time. Please consider that before you choose. There are areas of forest further north that would be safer for your clan.”

  Chapter 14

  For the next several days, Max remained in Stormhaven City. Part of each day was spent being a king, handling the day to day issues that his councilors brought to his attention. They handled the vast majority of decisions themselves, but a few were passed up to Max for his review. He would then either make a decision himself, or pass it back down for them to use their best judgement. Max didn’t pretend to know how things should be run, or that he knew as much as the professionals that had been loaned to him by Ironhand and the other clan leaders. Instead, he did his best to learn from them.

  The rest of his time he spent crafting. Dalia’s father visited Max in his new fully equipped lab within the palace. The old dwarf bowed his head when Max entered the lab. “Yer Majesty, it be an honor to meet ya. I be Norin, Dalia’s papa.”

  “The pleasure is mine, Norin.” Max grinned at the dwarf. “Your daughter has saved my life more times than I can count. And not just with her magic. The alchemy skills she learned from you have worked miracles for us and our people. I would be honored if you would share some of your knowledge with me, as well.”

  “Ha! From the way she tells it, ye saved her behind just as many times. And the rare quality ingredients ye brought us… well, in just three days at me own shop I’ve managed to increase me Alchemist skill level twice! Fer that alone, I’d happily teach ye.”

  The two of them got to work, chatting about Dalia and Max’s adventures as the elder dwarf showed Max the proper way to use all of his new equipment. Max soon discovered that what Dalia had claimed out in the wilds was true. Working in a full lab with proper equipment, using a stable and easily adjustable heat source, taking the time to properly prepare all of your ingredients, all of it made for much more potent results. His very first batch of healing potions using standard quality ingredients were his best by far. They healed two hundred and fifty points immediately, and another four hundred over thirty seconds.

  To demonstrate the power of the Brightwood enhanced ingredients, Norin followed the same procedure he’d just shown Max, using the very same equipment, same herbs, only at the rare quality. The end result was a brightly glowing purple potion that granted one thousand health points instantly, and another one thousand over thirty seconds. In addition, while Max’s batch had produced six vials of potion, the same quantity of the rare quality herbs produced eight.

  When Norin held up the first vial for Max to Examine, he said “Each of these would sell in my shop for twenty gold. King Ironhand’s quartermasters would buy ‘em for fifteen gold each, in lots of one hundred. If I were to use all the rare quality herbs me daughter brought me, I could produce nearly one thousand o’ these potions. That’d earn me enough gold to retire with just a week’s work, even sellin’ em at the king’s discount.”

  Max was beginning to fully realize the value of the Brightwood and its surrounding land. If just a d
ay’s worth of harvesting one small area’s herbs could produce such a fortune… And the herbs that Norin was speaking of were just Dalia’s one third portion of what they had gathered. Max remembered something just then. “Master Norin, if you can earn that much from the herbs you have, what would you pay for an equal amount of the same herbs? I am still holding Battleaxe’s share of what we gathered, as well as my own. I’ll be holding onto my share, but if you’d be willing to purchase his…”

  Norin’s face, which had be alight a few seconds earlier at the prospect of more herbs, fell. “Aye, Battleaxe. He were a friend o’ mine, yaknow. And me girl told me how he sacrificed his own life to save hers, and yours.” He shook his head. “I owe me old friend a great debt. To answer yer question, under normal circumstances, assuming I had the funds, I’d pay ye maybe three thousand gold fer those herbs.” Max nodded, thinking that sounded like a fair price.

  “But… seein’ as it be fer Battleaxe, and since I don’t yet have such funds, especially after openin’ a shop here in Stormhaven, I have a different offer.” This got Max’s attention. “I know ye give’d his family a bag o’ gold from yer arena winnings. That were right kind of ye. And another three thousand gold would certainly be appreciated by his family.” The old dwarf began to grin as he spoke. “But I’m thinkin’ I can help all three of us at the same time. I’ll keep me daughter’s share o’ the ingredients, use em to level up me own skill, rather than waste ‘em on health potions. We’ll take Battleaxe’s share, and I’ll help ya level yer skill, until we can turn it all into these potions. Sell most o’ those to the quartermasters, to help heal the old scout’s fellow soldiers. The rest I’ll sell in me own shop at the higher price. It’ll take some time, but the five thousand ye already give’d them will hold them for years. When we’re done, you’ll have grown yer Alchemist level, as will I. We’ll use our time to turn the three thousand gold worth of ingredients into ten thousand gold fer Battleaxe’s family, and I’ll earn enough to leave some gold fer me girl when I go.”

  “You have a deal!” Max shook the old dwarf’s hand, being careful not to squeeze it too hard in his excitement. He was still getting used to the economy of this world, and a lot of his recent transactions had been on a kingdom level of spending, but he was pretty sure that ten thousand gold, in addition to the five thousand he’d already given them, would secure Battleaxe’s family for a generation or two.

  “Alright.” Norin rubbed his hands together, then checked the inventory of ingredients arrayed before them. “With what we have here o’ the common ingredients, ye can work for a full day or so. With me here watchin’ over ye, it should get ye a dozen or so skill points before yer done. In the meantime, I’ll send Dalia out to gather more ingredients near Brightwood. Not the rare quality, but uncommon ones that’ll help ye level up even more. In the meantime, I’ll cook up some batches of the good stuff!”

  Max cooked batch after batch of health potions using the common ingredients, the quality of his results slowly but steadily increasing under the master’s supervision. He got pointers on better ways to grind the herbs in the mortar, Norin tweaking his wrist movements while holding the pestle. He learned to judge the heat of the flame by its color, and how to make the small adjustments that would make the ingredients heat more evenly, thus improving the process.

  Unlike out in the wilds, where he often poured out his experiments to free up vials for the next batch, every potion Max made went into the kingdom’s storage. Even the early versions were good enough to help save lives during a battle. And by the time he finished early the following morning, his healing potions had maxed out at five hundred instant health points, and five hundred over thirty seconds. The system still classified them as common healing potions, but they were right on the edge of reaching uncommon.

  Leaving Norin to continue cooking up the good stuff, Max went to the small dining hall to grab some breakfast. Master Oakstone was due to arrive, and it was time for him to work on his smithing. It would be another couple days before Dalia returned with the intermediate quality herbs, and hopefully more of the rare ones as well. He’d sent Smitty along as escort, and Picklet had volunteered as well. The battlefield was on his way home, after all. The dworc had spent his gold wisely, with the help of one of Max’s merchant councilors, and was ready to head back to his valley with the goods. Max had sold him one of Stormhaven’s orc wagons for the princely sum of one gold, and made sure that he was taking back several one hundred slot storage rings. Max saw signs that the dwarfess and the dworc were developing more than a casual friendship, and he found himself hoping that would play a part in convincing the dworcs to join him.

  Entering the small dining hall, he found Oakstone sitting there with Redmane and Steelbender. “Ah, Max!” Oakstone called out, raising a hand in greeting. “Ready to begin working with iron?”

  “Ready, and excited!” Max grinned at the dwarves as he swung by the side table to grab a plate and dish up some food. “Master Steelbender, are you here to watch and laugh at a poor novice?”

  “Ha! As amusing as that might be, I’m here on business. Yer scale armor be nearly complete, and yer swords be ready.” The master smith pulled out a beautiful two handed sword as Max approached their table. Max immediately set down his plate and reached for the weapon. It was longer than the blade Steelbender had loaned him, with a single wide fuller down the center from the hilt to about eight inches short of the point. Inside the fuller were several engraved runes, and it glowed faintly when Max held it. Below the wickedly curved and pointed guard, the crimson leather grip was long enough for two hands, and wider than normal to fit Max’s hands. The pommel was round, with a smoky onyx mounted in the center, and a steel knob at the bottom for cracking skulls. As Max hefted it, it felt light in his hands. Max Examined the blade.

  Storm Reaver

  Item Quality: Unique, Epic

  Attributes: Intelligence +5; Wisdom +5; Agility +4

  Enchantment: Sovereign’s Stand

  This blade was crafted for King Maximilian Storm by the Dwarven Master Steelbender, to protect his life, the lives of his people, and to instill fear in the hearts of his enemies.

  Sovereign’s Stand: When wielding Storm Reaver, King Storm can activate this enchantment, boosting the strength, constitution, and health regeneration of his people by 10%. At the same time, enemies will suffer a hit to morale, and a 10% strength debuff. Effect will last 1 hour. Cooldown: 24hrs; Area of effect:500ft radius.

  “Master Steelbender, this is…” Max was at a loss for words. “This is incredible. I cannot thank you enough.”

  “Aye, that be quite the powerful enchantment.” Oakstone agreed, sounding a little jealous as he inspected the sword himself. “Not one I recall ever hearin’ about before.”

  Steelbender grinned. “Ye might say inspiration struck me. I had planned a simple sharpness enchantment that would cause yer foes to bleed a good bit when ye sliced ‘em. The center o’ the blade be dwarven steel, but the outer layers be mithril, which holds enchantments well. The night before I planned to enchant the blade, Regin came to me in a dream. He slapped the back o’ me head and said “What master worth his salt would waste a mithril blade on a sharpness enchantment?” He shook his head, rubbing the back of it with one hand. “Knocked some sense into me, then suggested this enchantment. When I finished the blade, it leveled up me Enchanting skill by five points!”

  Now it was Oakstone’s turn to shake his head. “A gift directly from Regin himself. Bein’ a friend o’ yours has its benefits, Max.” Max was barely paying attention, busy adoring his new weapon.

  “I brought Battleborne Smitty’s blade too.” Steelbender said, looking toward the door as if expecting Smitty.

  “I’m sorry, he’s out helping Dalia gather some herbs.” Max apologized. He pulled three of his best health potions from his inventory and handed one to each of the dwarves. “I’m working on leveling up my alchemy skill. Just finished these a little while ago.” The three dwarves made app
roving noises over the quality of the potions. “We’ll be making a thousand potions for Ironhand’s army, each with a total of two thousand points of healing. The proceeds from that sale will go to Battleaxe’s family.” He paused to look at Steelbender. “I can deliver the sword when he returns, if you like. Though it might be more fun for you to present it personally.”

  “Aye, both of ye come to visit when ye have time. I should have yer chest pieces ready in a few more days. Ye can try them on so we can make any needed adjustments.” With that, the old dwarf nodded his head, grabbed a couple pastries from the side table, and headed out.

  Max and Oakstone followed Redmane to the private smithy, Max having never been there himself. They took a moment to familiarize themselves with the surroundings, then got to work. As Oakstone had promised, he began instructing Max on how to forge with iron.

  They didn’t make weapons out of iron, because it was both heavier and softer than steel. But lots of tools and everyday items, from horse and boar shoes to fireplace pokers to door hinges were forged from iron. As with copper, Max learned the proper temperature to heat the metal to make it most workable, how far and how fast he could bend it without it breaking, and how much stress it could take once it cooled. He learned how to add elements that Oakstone showed him in order to prevent the iron from rusting for a thousand years or more. A secret the dwarves had discovered that humans on Earth never had.

  By the end of the long day, Max had increased his Blacksmithing skill level by four points. He’d created hundreds of nails, a dozen hinges with the pins and the screws to go with them, and for his final test, an ornate door knocker that had required him to twist, bend, fold, and chisel the iron to match the drawing Oakstone provided.

  Oakstone examined the knocker, turning it over and running a thumb across a few decorative details. “It be fit to hang on a woodshed door, mebbe a goblin’s quarters, I suppose.” He glanced sideways at Max, a grin forming under his beard. “It’ll do. Next lesson, I’ll teach ye how to make iron into steel.”