by R. A. Mejia
Tognomey turned to me and said, “Repair, we’ve been waiting for you all day. We got an official reprimand from The Ultimate Research Warrior Competition Committee. They say that you were stealing magical spells from the Mages’ Guild, one of the other organizations in the competition.”
I recalled Harrison Freud’s promise to complain to his guild about me. I’d thought that the sudden lack of mage’s available to group with had been the result of that complaint. I hadn’t thought it would come back on the gnomes. I bowed my head in contrition. “I’m sorry, Tognomey. I didn’t mean to cause trouble for the Institute. I was just using my class skill Magic Spell Scanning. It was foolish of me to use the spell I’d copied in front of that mage. I should have waited till we were done with the dungeon for the day, but Greebo--I point to my goblin friend, who looked awkwardly at me--“was in trouble, and I had to get him out of a tough spot, or he might have died.”
Gnomerad stomped toward me. “Then you should have let him die. What’s one less dirty goblin compared to what you may have cost us in the competition? We can’t afford to be on the bad side of the competition committee. When you fail your test from the gnome council, I still need them to be on my side when I represent the Institute.”
It was not the first time that the gnome had said my friend should die but it was the last time I’d let him. I stepped forward and raised my fist ready to hit the arrogant gnome, but Tognomey stepped between me and Gnomerad.
“You watch what you say!’ I warned. “I’d never leave my friend to die for some stupid competition. He’s more important to me than all your research money.”
To my surprise, Tognomey turned and pushed Gnomerad, cutting him off. “Shut up, you arrogant gnome. Repair only did what he could in the situation. I’d have done the same. I’m sorry your research was stolen by a goblin, but you can’t take it out on all of them. Now, apologize.”
Gnomerad’s lips pressed together and he crossed his arms stubbornly. Tognomey poked him in the chest and said. “You apologize, or I’ll tell Professor Gnominsky that you’re threatening our best chance at winning the Competition.”
Gnomerad’s eyes widened, and he sneered at me and Greebo before he said, “I’ll never apologize to the machine or a dirty gob. I’m this Institute's best chance at winning the competition. The sooner you see that, the better off we’ll be.” Then Gnomerad turned and left the laboratory.
I shook my head at the gnome as he left, the urge to strike him still strong. But I forced myself to unclench my fist and said back to Tognomey, “Thanks for that.”
He shook his head. “No, what he said was uncalled for. No amount of coin is worth someone’s life--no matter what some of the other competitors might think. But, please, try to keep some of your abilities a secret. We don’t want to show off everything you can do before the competition.”
I nodded in agreement and he left without even bothering to ask if there were any new Metalman abilities that I discovered. I turned to see Greebo staring at me. He asked, “What was all that about?”
As I showed the goblin to my room, I explained about the gnomes finding my body and bringing me back to life and how I owed them a tremendous amount. I told him about the upcoming competition and the huge research grant that would be awarded to the winner and how, if I won the contest for the gnomes, they’d forgive my entire debt and get me papers for my citizenship.
Greebo dropped his pack on the floor of my room and whistled. “You owe them that much? No wonder you’re in a rush to make some coin. I don’t think I’d be able to earn that much in a hundred lifetimes.”
“Yeah, well, now you understand why I need to get to level 8 and explore that dungeon. I have to meet their challenge, or I’ll be stuck working off my debt for a hundred years.”
Greebo nodded and patted my arm, which was as high as he could reach when we were both standing next to each other. “Well, I’ll try to help you out as much as I can. We’re going to do good with our business, so that’ll be some coin to help out. Maybe we’ll buy you some new equipment and weapons so you can fight better in the dungeon? Or get you a trainer to learn some proper fighting skills?”
I liked both ideas but knew that combat would never be my strong suit. “No, I’d like to focus on crafting if you don’t mind. I need to clear some class quests, unlock more of my abilities, and learn some real trade skills. I also need some coin for a special project. It’ll be expensive to upgrade myself, but I think we’ll be good as long as we can keep up this mining.” I turned to the heavy bag Greebo dropped. “Just empty it out on the floor. I’ll deconstruct it all tonight and have it ready for you to pick up tomorrow morning. You go rest, you look tired.”
Greebo nodded and stretched his back before digging into his expanding bag and emptying it out. The chunky raw copper ore spilled out onto the floor, and I had to jump back or risk being buried in rocks. Greebo said goodnight before he left, and then I got to work on deconstructing the massive pile of copper ore and my planned crafting exploit for the night.
Chapter 14 - Blacksmithing
Surprisingly, it only took 5 hours and 16 minutes to deconstruct the 220 pounds of copper ore. It was more of a hassle to find space in my small room for the copper and stone cubes I had to dump out of my inventory every half hour so that it wouldn’t go over my carry limit. In the end, I ended up with 132 pounds of stone and 88 pounds of copper.
Greebo wasn’t showing up for another 6 hours, and I was determined to use that time to get some XP. I knew that crafting could cost us long term if I continued to use the copper we’d been mining, so I ran through the math in my head, surprised at how easy it was to keep the numbers straight now that I was a Metalman. With the increased speed of crafting from investing in dexterity and those class abilities, I should be able to make about 446 copper nails while burning through about 8 pounds of copper between fabrication and deconstruction losses which meant that I’d be losing 4 silver worth of material that I could otherwise sell each day. That didn’t sound like much, but over the course of a month, that added up to 1.2 gold that I’d be losing. That was a significant amount of money.
As I looked at the stacks of one-inch stone cubes, I wondered why I had to use the expensive copper to make a small item. Why couldn’t I use the stone? I looked through my schematics and didn’t find anything that was made of stone, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t make something. My room was really a supply and tool closet, and the gnomes kept old tools and spare materials there. I’d never minded, but right then, I was glad for it. I grabbed a metal file and a one-inch stone cube from the pile and filed down the edges and corners. It took me a bit of time, but in the end, I had a stone ball. I scanned it and got a new schematic.
Rough Stone Ball - Component: .091 lbs. stone
That was all that I needed to fabricate more, and it illustrated just why I needed to be able to craft and not just fabricate. I’d thought myself so clever for finding an exploit in the crafting system, yet I just made it more economical by creating something that fit my specific needs. Our big money maker was going to be the copper since stone was a much less valuable byproduct, so I adjusted my time accordingly. The ability to make new things and not just what someone else had designed was what was going to make my goals possible.
It took slightly longer to fabricate the larger stone ball than the copper nails, but I continued working until Greebo came knocking on my room’s door. It was not a particularly stimulating six hours, but it gave me time to prove mathematically that I’d made the right decision. While I’d lose four silver making nails each night, I’d only lose 30 copper each night using the much cheaper stone. Balls for the win!
By the time Greebo knocked on my door, a gnome guard behind him as an escort, I’d made 340 XP making poor stone balls. Which was less than what I’d make if I’d been making copper nails, but the trade-off in money made it worth it.
I let Greebo into my room, and we filled his pack with the copper and stone cubes. The walk
to the Merchant’s Guild was much more pleasant in the early morning with fewer people giving us odd looks, likely because there were more servants and factory workers running around, so Greebo and I just looked like another of them. We arrived at the Merchant’s Guild just as they were opening their doors and were the first to dump our load of materials for sale. We sold our 88 pounds of copper for 44 silver and the stone for 2 silver 60 copper. That was a massive increase in profits compared to the 13 to 16 silver that we’d made when we were mining our own copper ore.
Greebo and I just stared at the pile of silver coins for a full minute before the clerk coughed and broke our trance. It was a great bit of wealth to see all at once, and we quickly divided it between us and left to meet the goblin miners. The miners were already waiting for us by the fountain outside the dungeon. They had their picks, mining helmets, and big toothy smiles on their faces. The miners walked ahead of Greebo and me as we made our way towards the dungeon and I could hear them talk amongst themselves.
“Can you believe we sold that ore for so much?” Moe asked.
“Yeah, it was more than I made in a week washing dishes for that elf at her restaurant,” Meanie responded.
“Or me, running that cotton spinning machine in the factory,” Minnie added.
“Do you really think we’ll make this much every day?” asked Moe.
Innie shrugged. “I don’t know, but imagine what we can make when we get really good at our jobs. I hear there is gold and diamonds deeper in the dungeon.”
“But what about all the monsters?” Moe asked.
Meanie scoffed and said, “Ah, Greebo and that friend of his promised they’d take care of us.”
Innie nodded in agreement. “Yeah, they came through for us with the class stuff, and I think they’re gonna do just like they said and protects us from the monsters. After all, we’re making money for them too, ain’t we?”
Hearing the four miners talk, I nodded to myself. With the money they were making, they’d no doubt soon be able to pay back their debt to us. After that, they could go to another company to work, but I knew if they tried that, they’d find out just how sweet a deal they were getting with me and Greebo. I’d checked with a few of the miners on the third floor and found out that they were being paid an hourly or daily rate for their work. The goblins were getting a share of the ore, which meant they would profit more when productivity increased. I also planned on offering them my services to refine the ore, which would increase profitability even more. It was a win-win for all of us to continue to work together.
Clearing the monsters to the third-floor mine earned Greebo and me some minor XP gains, but once we were outside the mine entrance, I stopped and turned to Greebo. I said, “Hey, why don’t you go in with the miners. I need to start working on the next part of my plan. We can make some good coin just as we are, but the real money will come when we turn those raw resources into finished goods. To do that, I need to learn to craft. Then, after that, I can make better quality items and even some stuff no one’s seen yet to really increase how much XP we can earn in the dungeon.”
Greebo stopped and thought about it for a minute before he nodded. “You also got your class quests to do, yeah? I’ll be sure to keep our miners safe. Meet up with me at the fountain before it gets dark so that I give you the ore.”
I agreed and watched Greebo enter the mine with the other goblins. As I watched them walk away and down into the mine, I realized that this marked a shift in my endeavors. I wasn’t just grinding away at killing monsters for XP: I was laying a foundation for better future gains. I’d learn some crafting then make us some amazing equipment that would help me rake in the XP. I was going to learn the skills I needed to create new items, weapons, and armor and I’d make a fortune doing it.
With those determined thoughts in my mind, I marched out of the dungeon, through the center of the city, and directly to the Crafter’s District. I knew that I’d need training in order to get those crafters skills, and I could think of only one crafter that I would want to train under.
As I stepped into the Crafter’s District, all the sights and sounds became louder and brighter. I could almost imagine some weird musical using the banging of hammers, the flashes of stoked furnaces and ground glass, and the artistry of painters and sculptors as a backdrop to tell the story of a poor Metalman who wanted to craft. A song from The Music Man played in my head, and I did a little jig and jauntily walked down through the streets to Deanly the Blacksmith. In my mind, the music was playing when I sang out, “Trouble, oh we got trouble, Right here in River City! With a capital "T" That rhymes with "C" And that stands for Crafting.”
I’d gotten so distracted by my own made-up story that I didn’t realize that I’d arrived at my destination and that the doors to the smithy were wide open and that everyone inside could see and hear me. That is, until someone said, “I didn’t know golems could sing.”
And, just like that, my little fantasy about me opposing some conman causing trouble in the city with my amazing crafting popped. Instead, I was facing the blacksmith orc Deanly and his two apprentices, who were staring at me open-mouthed.
I put my arms down, which until that moment had been wide open as I belted out my song, and said, “Uh . . . yeah. We can sing. Well, I can, at least. Although, I don’t expect you to know that particular song.” The confused expression on Deanly’s face told me that I was only making him more befuddled, so I quickly changed subjects. “Sir Orc, I am here to request that you train me in the craft of Blacksmithing.”
The confusion cleared from the orc’s face as the conversation came to something he’d been expecting since we first talked on that quiet holiday. “Well, it’s about time. I knew you had an interest, though I wasn’t sure if your owners were going to let you learn something like Blacksmithing.”
His last sentence rubbed me the wrong way. I hated the idea that people thought I was a slave or someone’s property. Especially since I technically was. However, I didn’t think it would be wise to correct the orc that I hoped would do me a favor and train me in his craft. Instead, I said, “So, you’ll train me then?”
He nodded. “Yes, I pride myself in being able to see who will take well to smithing, and you seem to have the curiosity and patience to learn the trade. You’ll have to pay fifteen silver in trade fees or agree to work for me for two years, though.”
That little bit had been missing from Sandra’s information. Still, it made sense. Why would you train a potential competitor unless you were getting something out of it? For most people, the two years of work was probably the better deal since it would give them time to practice while learning from their teacher. For me, however, it was not going to be possible to work for someone else exclusively that long. So, I whispered the command for the money to be taken out of my internal inventory as I pretended to search through the backpack I’d taken to carrying with me everywhere. The money appeared in my hand, and I withdrew it from the pack and handed it to Deanly.
He looked at the silver coins in his hand strangely for a moment before looking up at me. “Not many can pay the fee outright.” He shrugged before pocketing the coins and continued, “But it’s all the same to me. Let’s get started.”
Deanly started with a tour of the smithy. He pointed out the forge which was a raised brick hearth outfitted with bellows that fed its soft-coal fire and a hood that carried away the smoke. By the forge, there were several water barrels and anvils raised on brick pedestals, and along the back wall, were wooden tables and racks with a variety of knives, rasps, files, hand drills, tongs, hammers, boxes of nails, vices, swages, cutters, and chisels. There was a whole section for measuring tools, which included wheels, rulers, and iron calipers. Deanly commented that it was usually more important that different parts fit together properly than that they have some specific measurement. After all, what does it matter if a poker was thirty-two or twenty-nine inches? There were also a variety of specialty tools without names that were cre
ated to make particular punch, curve, or cut for specific tools, weapons, or items.
We returned to the forge. “Most folks think that you just throw a bunch of wood or coal into the forge, light in on fire and then you can heat your metal enough to work it. But that’s not how things really work. There’s a whole range of fuels that can be used and each has its own peculiarities that you’ll have to learn about. Some smiths use wood at their forge,” he made a face and continued, “which is fine if you only need to do a little work as wood burns easy. But it takes a lot more of it to get hot enough to heat metal and if you’re working all day, you will use piles and piles of the stuff.
“Now, there are some smiths that swear by magical forms of fire to heat their metals. But it’s frankly a waste of gold if you ask me. You could build seven or eight smithies for what one of those mana fueled forges costs and you need a regular supply of mana or monster cores to keep it going. But they are also the only way to heat up some of the tougher metals like adamantine.”
He gestured to his brick forge. “Here we use coal, which is harder to get burning, but takes less fuel to keep going.”