The Land: Predators

by Aleron Kong

Richter accessed the soul stuff in the gems and pushed. The amber gems crumbled into dust and the rainbow souls were released. They swirled around the blade, getting closer and closer until they sunk in. Everyone else in the smithy was watching but from at least a dozen yards away. The smartest were peeking out from behind large objects. Richter didn’t notice. He was holding a tempest at bay.

  The enchantment resistance hit him with a jolt. It wasn’t overly strong. More like a friend trying to slap a sandwich out of your hand. If you weren’t paying attention, your lunch would be gone and then retaliatory violence would have to ensue. If you were smart enough to understand that all true friends were assholes though, it was relatively easy to hold on to your food.

  The pressure increased. In a few seconds, it felt like Richter was holding the leash of a large dog straining to chase after a squirrel. Seconds after that, it increased to the strength of three people trying to push open a door that he was straining to keep closed. It wasn’t just the worsening pressure that made it difficult, it was the fact that he had to respond to the “changes in direction.” In the past, he had just needed to endure an increasing force that felt like it came from a single direction. Now, he was actively working to keep the soul stuff centered on the blade. The two enchantments battered against each other one moment and fled in opposite directions the next.

  Richter didn’t know it, but his hair had begun to stand up on end. Wisps of black curls rose into the air. A feeling of static filled the entire forge. The chaos seed’s face took on a stark aspect as he struggled to contain his enchantment. Ever so slowly, his lips peeled back in a snarl and his hands partially curled over the sword like he was pushing down on an invisible dome.

  The rainbow light spun faster and faster. Richter’s hair flew around his face, buffeted by gale-force winds from another reality, a storm that only he could feel. Still he barely noticed, his entire focus and will centered on the enchantment before him. It strained to be free, but he would not allow it. He was lord. He was Enchanter. He was Richter!

  It was done!

  Richter almost fell forward after the enchantment resistance suddenly vanished. The staticky feeling in the forge disappeared, and he came back to himself. The chaos seed’s heart thudded inside of his chest. He felt exhausted, but also triumphant.

  “Yar! Ay told ye he could do it!”

  That dwarven cry shattered the silence of the forge. Richter hadn’t realized just how quiet it was, but he quickly looked around. Every other single person had fled the Forge. Richter realized he couldn’t tell if a minute or an hour had passed. Based on the sunlight coming in from outside, it couldn’t have been too long. He looked at his people, amused as they meandered back in. His efforts had actually gathered quite a crowd of passersby.

  Richter was flattered… until he saw money changing hands. Some wagering had apparently taken place. That was fine, but it also meant that a good number of those bastards had bet against him! While he listened to one of the dwarves complain, he discovered it got worse. They’d put odds on his efforts, three-to-one against!

  “Everybody knows,” he raised his voice in mock anger and waved one finger at all of them, “that you always bet on black!”

  They, of course, had no earthly idea what he was talking about. Just seeing their confused faces was enough for him. With a smile, he looked at his new prompt and saw what he had wrought. It was good!

  You have enchanted:

  Dense Moonstone Longsword Blade of Shattering Ice

  Attack: 23-31

  Durability: 85/85

  Item Class: Unusual

  Quality: Superb

  Weight: 5.2 kg

  Traits:

  +10% Damage vs Spell Barriers

  +9-10 Earth Damage*

  7-8% chance to Disarm

  3% chance to Shatter

  +4-5 Water Damage **

  4% Chance to Freeze

  Charges: 468/468

  * +200% v Air, +300% v Crystalline

  ** +100% v Fire

  Before Richter could shout a “Hell yeah,” before he could even give a baby “woot,” a light appeared above him. The ceiling of the Forge of Heavens was no simple roof. It was an exact image of the heavens above. Day or night, stars, moons and even the occasional comet could be seen in the ceiling. The picture changed as The Land spun through the cosmos.

  Depending on the heavenly bodies above, and other factors that Richter had no idea how to predict, sometimes one of the Forge’s abilities activated. That was why he was so excited about the village’s current research. Soon they would know much more about how his Core building worked. It was a branch of research unique to the village. Even without it, sometimes they got lucky though. This was one of those times!

  Four stars that formed a perfect square lit up. Spirals of black light descended from the ceiling. The process was slow, and it took more than a minute for the ebony tendrils to reach the blade. When they finally touched the moonstone though, something miraculous happened. The white of the blade began to leach away. It was like the black tendrils were straws that were sucking up the color.

  The white moved faster and faster up the black spirals until they touched the ceiling. Then the four stars flared again. The now white corkscrews unraveled like a rope made of countless strands. Each strand then unraveled. The process repeated again and again until they disappeared from sight.

  Richter had been distracted by the process like everyone else. Once it was done, he quickly looked back down at the blade. To his surprise, it was now completely black! Not only that, but the sword looked thinner and sleeker than before. Even though it hadn’t been sharpened yet, it almost looked like it had developed an edge. Before he could access the prompt of the blade, Bowdin leaned over the blade with eyes as large as saucers.

  “Darkstone!” The smith’s voice was intense, but he whispered the word in reverence.

  The word was taken up by every other smith and they shouldered the other villagers out of the way. More than a few reached out to touch the blade, but then stopped, as if they had almost committed sacrilege. Richter thought about it for a moment. In a world without gods, special metals just might be holy to those with the Smithing skill. The chaos seed still didn’t know exactly why a color change would elicit such emotion though.

  Dwarves were boisterous when angry, loud when drinking and, according to Krom, titans in bed. “A man’s true height only be judged lying down, yer lordship!” If Richter had to hear his smith say that one more goddamn time… He shook his head free of the irritating remembrance. The point was, the chaos seed had only seen the dwarves reverent once before, and that was when the Forge of Heavens had been created.

  “Darkstone?” Richter asked, hoping someone would clue him in.

  Bowdin didn’t even look at his liege when he answered. His eyes stayed glued to the black metal. In his distraction, the dwarf’s brogue came through a bit more than normal, “It be a higher level of moonstone. Much harder, me lord. Much tougher. Ye normally only find it buried in the deepest and largest moonstone veins. Even then, ye will only find a wee bit.”

  “It’s rarer than moonstone?” Richter asked, suddenly interested. Call him what you want, but he was always on the lookout for new commerce and a good deal.

  His question finally pulled Bowdin’s eyes away from the black sword, “Do ye truly not know? The metal in this here blade would be enough for tribes to war over! In the mountains, only royal smiths or master smiths could even touch the stuff. Anything else would be against the law. This be a level two metal, yer lordship. Darkstone be a hundred times, a thousand times, rarer than moonstone. And this be smelted into a strong blade. The knack of working level two metal be closely guarded. Some say glass actually be a level two metal, which accounts for why it be harder than a diamond cock in winter. Even if we had ingots of pure darkstone we could na forge it without knowing the secret of its smithing. Not even with all the abilities of the Forge of Heavens could I have made such a blade. This b
e a miracle! Ay never thought I would actually see a darkstone weapon, and yet, I even had a hand in creating it. Once again you have shown me a wonder, Lord Richter. Ye truly are amazing, my lord.”

  The look in his eyes was almost adoring, and the chaos seed could see it mirrored in the faces of almost every other smith. A prompt appeared in Richter’s vision.

  Your enchanting has led to the transformation of a moonstone blade into its level two form, Darkstone. This, in addition to your creation of a Magic Forge, has greatly endeared you to the smiths of your village. Their Loyalty, Morale and relationship with you have all increased.

  Loyalty of smiths of the Mist Village increased by +50.

  Morale of smiths of the Mist Village increased by +100.

  You have gained +5000 Relationship Points with every smith of your village.

  Richter also received a cascade of prompts giving him the specific improvements in relationship with over twenty of his villagers, all with the Smithing skill. Bowdin’s relationship specifically became loyal. Once again, Richter was awed by the real world effects of the prompts he received when, one after another, the smiths went down on one knee. Human and dwarf alike began to swear their fealty to him. It even began a cascade of a few other villagers that had apparently been on the fence about accepting him as their liege lord, and soon there were nearly fifty villagers making the oath.

  Richter knew that his people were generally happy. They were even elated based on the overall Morale of the village. That didn’t mean they had all sworn fealty, however. In theory, everyone that had come to the settlement was his employee. While he didn’t like thinking about it, at the end of their one-year contract, they were all free to go. It was a potentially huge security risk, but Richter had already decided that he wouldn’t keep anyone against their will after they had fulfilled their obligation. Those that chose to swear fealty were different.

  Doing so meant that they had accepted him not only as the lord of the village, but also as their liege lord. They swore to follow his commands and to do their best to serve him. Most importantly, it was a lifelong pledge.

  Bowdin spoke first. The others followed after him in perfect sync a half-moment later, “I formally swear allegiance and loyalty to you, my Lord Richter. From now, unto my very death, I will protect you and your interests, to the best of my ability and without deceit.”

  Once again there was a moment of stillness in the smithy. The phrases they had spoken might not have been a spell, but it was clear that they were magic in some way shape or form. Every time someone swore fealty, they used almost exactly the same words. It was almost as if something were speaking through them, or perhaps they were harnessing an ancient power that demanded a specific ritual. Richter was reminded again and again that in The Land words had power. Swearing fealty created an actual bond between himself and the people kneeling before him.

  He responded with his own ritual words, “I accept your oath of fealty, and swear to honor your pledge with the same gravity in which it was given.”

  His people looked at him with happiness and love. The only sour note was one smith standing in the background with a disgruntled look on his face. Richter recognized him as Ardrim, a dwarven smith of the Bone Crusher clan. He had challenged Krom’s supremacy in the Forge several months before. It hadn’t come to anything, but Richter had kept his eye on the man ever since.

  A resounding cheer rang out as his new vassals celebrated each other and clapped one another on the back. Richter found himself smiling, caught up in the festivity of it all, and thoughts of Ardrim fled. He looked around and called out, “Terrod. Is Terrod here?”

  The captain answered from behind the crowd, “I am, my lord.”

  Richter had had a feeling that a collection of villagers would draw his Companion’s interest. With a broad smile on his face, he said, “Come up here, man. Make room! Let our Captain of the Guard come through!”

  The crowd started parting and Terrod made his way into the forge. There were dozens of people in the smithy at that point. Richter had a small laugh as he thought about how Krom would be cursing up a storm if he were here. The chaos seed was the lord of the village, but after him, Krom had near-absolute power in the Forge of Heavens. The salt-and-pepper dwarf was known to get a bit violent with anyone he saw as an interloper in his personal kingdom. The rest of the villagers were enjoying the newfound freedom the dwarf’s absence afforded.

  While Terrod walked closer, Richter examined the updated stats for the sword.

  You have found:

  Dense Darkstone Longsword of Shattering Ice

  Attack: 29-36

  Durability: 176/176

  Item Class: Scarce

  Quality: Superb

  Weight: 6.9 kg

  Traits:

  +10% Damage vs Spell Barriers

  +9-10 Earth Damage*

  7-8% chance to Disarm

  3% chance to Shatter

  +4-5 Water Damage**

  4% Chance to Freeze

  Wounds inflicted with Darkstone will fester and interfere with mana regeneration

  Charges: 468/468

  *+200% vs Air, +300% vs Crystalline

  **+100% vs Fire

  He couldn’t deny that the weapon was more impressive than before. The attack had gone up nearly 25%. The durability had also gotten a serious hike. The weight had gone up as well, but that was a small price to pay. There weren’t any new enchantments, but it seemed that a quality inherent in darkstone was that it interfered with mana regeneration. If an accomplished melee fighter ever closed with a mage it should generally be game over anyway, but this metal would assure it.

  Richter had always thought that the special ability of the Forge meant another enchantment might be added. The fact that it could change the very metal itself opened up a whole world of possibilities. Just what else could the Forge do?

  Terrod walked closer to him and Richter threw an arm around his shoulders before addressing the crowd, “You all know our Captain?” There were a chorus of cheers and his Companion raised an arm in acknowledgement. “This man,” Richter began again, “this man has laid his life on the line again and again for you, for me, for all of us!” More cheers rang out and Terrod began to get embarrassed. “He has suffered and fought, not for reward, but because he is a good man. He is someone who we can trust. Do you trust him?” The shouts of agreement were almost deafening that time. “Doesn’t such a man deserve a weapon to fit his bravery?” Richter shouted out.

  “YES! Cheers for Captain Terrod! Cheers for Lord Richter! Cheers for the Mist Village!” was the resounding response.

  Terrod was looking at the black blade and shaking his head, but Richter wouldn’t hear anything about it. The enchanted blade was apparently worth more than its weight in gold, but his friend and Companion was worth ten of them as far as he was concerned. The man deserved a better weapon, and Richter decided he would glue it to his hand if need be!

  The crowd continued to cheer, moved by their lord’s generosity and his obvious affection for his captain. If a noble could care about one commoner, then he might care about them as well. That was a miracle even greater than seeing the darkstone for most of them. Richter hadn’t planned for his gift to have such a positive PR effect, but he certainly planned to capitalize on it now that it was happening. He grabbed Terrod’s hand, and raised their clasped grip above their heads in a victory salute. They faced the crowd together and the cheering grew even louder somehow. Richter was grinning ear to ear. No matter what came in the future, nothing could ever steal the wonder of this one perfect moment.

  He looked over at Terrod and saw the uneasiness was still on the man’s face. Richter laughed at his friend’s humbleness, “Dude! Stop fighting it, you deserve this!”

  “It is not that,” the captain stated with chagrin.

  “Then what, man?”

  Terrod looked at the wildly cheering crowd then looked back at Richter before whispering, “It is too heavy. I do not meet the r
equirements for the sword and will not for at least another level.”

  Richter’s smile grew strained. If the crowd found out it would ruin the whole mood, and he would not have anything spoiling his party that night. Daddy needed to relax! He thought for a moment, and then just whispered back out of the side of his mouth, “Don’t let anyone else know. Keep playing along. I’ll make you another one.”

  The chaos seed broadened his grin and raised their clasped hands as if they were running for office. The crowd’s enthusiasm soared one more time. Under his breath though, he quietly expressed his true emotions, “Mother-fucker!”

  CHAPTER 34 – Day 142 – Kuborn 32, 0 AoC

  Once the tumult died down, Richter examined the blade again. Requirements usually never showed up in his item prompts unless there was something he didn’t meet. With his relatively high level, that didn’t happen overly often. It only took a mental tweak before the darkstone’s requirements appeared though.

  Requirements: 33 Strength, 23 Dexterity

  No wonder the captain couldn’t wield it. Bowdin adding those other ingots and the sword’s transformation into darkstone had turned the blade into a seriously heavy sumbitch! Richter’s stats were barely up to the task. Still, it was an amazingly powerful blade, and the enchantments were top-notch! Richter decided it was time for him to start using a longsword again.

  His own melee style focused on dual wielding blades. Until recently, that had precluded him from using a long blade in either hand before because of a serious penalty to accuracy. He had even fallen over walking once when he’d tried to use anything other than two small weapons at once. Now that he had ranked up from novice to initiate in Dual Wielding, he could use a normal sized weapon in one of his hands. He thought back to the fight with the tuskers in the dungeon and that cemented the idea. A bit more reach in battle would definitely be a good thing. He also couldn’t deny the excitement he was feeling. Richter couldn’t wait to absolutely wreck some fools with this new blade!