True Smithing: A Crafting LitRPG Series

by Jared Mandani

  He walked to one of the counters; as he arrived, the woman tending it said “Bjornson and Baratus Arms and Armor, how may we be of assistance?”

  “Uh... yes, er... may I ask... Who is the manager of the place?”

  “I’m sorry sir, that information is confidential. Say, you look like you could be a good blacksmith – would you like to sign up for the Forgemasters’ Program?”

  “The Forgemasters’ Program?”

  “Yes, sir! You can rent out one of our forges – all tools and permits included, and craft your items at a low cost! Plus, if you create any unique items, you can keep the total of the proceedings!”

  “I see... right. Yes, please, I would like to use a forge.”

  “Awesome! Let’s see here... We have forge number six currently available; would you like to take it?”

  “Yes,” Hephaestus wheezed, “yes I would.”

  “Right sir, over the hall, to the right, you can’t miss it!”

  Hephaestus nodded, and followed the indications. He noticed the hall lined by doors leading into fully equipped, self-contained forges. He couldn’t help but marvel at the sheer scale of the place, and the cost such an endeavor must have taken! He had no time to think about it, as he reached the forge he was assigned. He entered gingerly, marveling at the equipment he saw inside – much as he had marveled at Baratus’ old forge, he now marveled at the top quality of every item and apparatus within the forge. Hephaestus took a new pair of blacksmith’s gloves, and an apron, a hammer, and a steel ingot.

  Well, he thought, might well do something to kill time. He heated the steel and took it to the anvil, manually hammering into shape. Which shape? He didn’t know. He only wanted to distract his mind away from admitting an unequivocal truth he wanted to avoid: Altara was gone.

  He had been too late in returning, he had missed their meeting entirely. She had said that now that she had Baratus’ ring, she had no idea what she would do – and what was she doing? What was she thinking? Did she think he had actually been banned, killing himself after being unable to cope? Had she found something better to do with her life, now that her business in Alterwelt was concluded? Every strike of the hammer against the hot metal posed a similar, equally as threatening doubt to the blacksmith, doubts which could not be dispelled by simply shaping metal.

  “Still workin’ on fuckin’ steel, of all things?” called a voice from the entrance of the forge. Hephaestus turned around, his face beaming when he saw the person leaning against the entrance of the smithy. “’Ello, Hephy!

  Long time no see!”

  Epilogue

  The new Bjornson and Baratus Guildhall in Baldera was an impressive sight to behold, especially since it had been commissioned on one of the famous floating islands of the region. The cost had been exorbitant, sure enough, but it had been worth it: The place was visible over kilometers as it hovered languidly above the city. It served both as a beacon and a beckoning call to any aspiring craftsman or blacksmith who wanted to learn, improve, perfect, or peddle their trade.

  Hephaestus walked towards the figure leaning against an ornate handrail, her hair streaming in the wind, framing her silhouette. He shook his head – he knew she enjoyed the dramatic way her hair moved. He said nothing as he leaned next to her, looking towards the horizon, contemplating the view as granted by the Guildhall’s island. “A sight to behold,” he said finally.

  “Mhm. They say it’s even better when the moons are in the sky, though.”

  “Oh, truly? Well, gotta see it sometime. It might be inspiring for newcomers, after all.”

  “Pah, like any newcomers need any more inspirin’, Hephy.”

  Hephaestus shrugged, still contemplating the scenery. “The world needs inspiring, Altara, one way or another. If we can lure kids into learning how to make stuff – hell, even make a living out of it, well,” he shrugged once more, “I guess it’s a good argument for virtual spaces, isn’t it?”

  “Of course it is,” the woman said sullenly.

  “Oh come on, Altara, quit your moping! Everything will be alright, you’ll see!”

  “It’s not... I’m not worried about that, Hephaestus – I know things will be alright, only, I don’t know how much longer that will last.”

  “What do you mean?” he asked, turning towards her.

  “I mean,” she said, stepping away from the handrail, “the debate’s gettin’ more heated, you know? More and more people are sayin’ that Imperium Games corrupts the youth, and whatnot.” She scoffed, “They always try to pin responsibility on somethin’ else, don’t they?”

  Hephaestus shrunk his shoulders, “Easier for people to find a boogeyman than accept they are shitty parents. It’s always that way.”

  “Oh really?” asked Altara.

  “Mhm. When I was your age, quite literally, people were scared that videogames would make kids violent, and you know what happened?”

  “Enlighten me.”

  “Well, you had a whole generation spending their times at home, playing with virtual legos!”

  “No shit?”

  “None. It’s always that way, it’ll pass. Maybe there will be a few more regulations, maybe some branches of the government will get involved, who knows? Who cares, really?”

  “I care,” the woman said.

  “Why?”

  “Because,” Altara continued, “I don’t want ‘em closin’ up these virtual spaces on some wannabe morality mumbo-jumbo, Hephy! I don’t care if kids can get into porn, or murder spaces – they shouldn’t have neuro-virtual rigs in the first place!”

  The blacksmith shook his head, “True, they shouldn’t. But that’s their parents’ fault for thinking these are simple toys, don’t you think?”

  “Make the nutty moms see as much!”

  “I can try,” he said, “Might fail miserably, but I can tray.”

  “Oh shut up, Hephy.” She returned to the handrail, staring into nothingness before she said “It’s been a crazy couple months, huh?”

  “They have, yes. Didn’t think people would go so crazy about Imperium Games, you know?”

  “Well,” the woman said, “that’s what you get when niche gadgets become popular. Everyone and their aunties jump on the bandwagon, for better,” she shrugged, “or for worse.”

  “Hm. Religious nuts?”

  “’Oh and the heaven doth shall be created by men and not the gods!’” said Altara in an exaggerated voice. “Give me a break – people can program literally anything they want, and the only thing they can think of is some sort of wish fulfillment?”

  “Everyone’s entitled to their beliefs.”

  “I know, Hephy, I know. It’s just, it ain’t fair we get the short end o’ the stick when they want to shove it in!”

  Hephaestus shrugged, “Nothing’s going to happen, you’ll see. Raging over virtual spaces is just a fad.”

  “Whatever,” Altara said finally.

  Hephaestus sighed, shaking his head. The conversation was grim, and its implications more so. Trying to change the topic, he asked “How are Bjornson and Baratus’ operations going?”

  “They’re goin’ peachy. Our top workers are at full capacity, the schools take in new people every day, and this ‘ere Guildhall has become a wonder to behold,” she sighed, “couldn’t be better.”

  “If that’s so,” said Hephaestus, “Why the long face?”

  Altara sighed once more, “You really ain’t in the know, Hephy, are you?”

  “Assume me ignorant.”

  She took a deep breath. “Saw an article this mornin’, ‘bout one of the leaders of the Moralization movement.”

  “Really?”

  “Mhm. Guess who’s one of the bastards tryin’ to cash in on the fad?”

  Hephaestus racked his thoughts trying to find an answer. When he finally admitted his defeat, he said “Beats me.”

  She shook her head, “One Lionel Vazquez.”

  H
ephaestus’ eyebrows shot as far as his scalp when he said “You’re kidding me! He’s involved in all this?”

  “Mhm. Worse, seems like he’s pushin’ a sort of... moderation, brought by them of course, into virtual spaces. An Inquisition, he calls it.”

  “Clever, naming your treehouse club something that strikes fear into people.”

  “That’s not the problem, Hephy! How long until he tries to strike at Alterwelt? How long ‘til he tries to strike at us?” She shook her head. “I don’t want to go through the same crap again.”

  The blacksmith sighed. “We won’t, Altara. I promise.”

  She scoffed, “Easy sayin’ that, bein’ an admin.”

  “You forget,” he said, crossing his arms, “you’re an admin too.”

  “Yea,” she chuckled, “I forget.” She stared at the landscape beyond the Guildhall. “Been a crazy ride, hm?” She sighed once more, “Truly, I don’t want it to end. Worse, I don’t want you sacked from Alterwelt.”

  “Well, Altara, whatever happens, it’ll be in a long, long time. By then, well, look at everything we’ve accomplished! The crafting guilds have unified, everyone can learn how to be a blacksmith, everyone can use forges. If you ask me, Alterwelt doesn’t foster immorality, vagrancy, or the like. It fosters imagination, creativity, good things, and those Moralizers need to see it.

  Besides,” he continued, “By the time their movement grows large enough to do anything of importance,” he shrugged dramatically, “I’d have likely kicked the bucket already!”

  “You shut your mouth, Hephaestus! You’ll do no such thin’! In fact, you’re goin’ to live a long, fulfillin’ life out there and in ‘ere, you hear me!”

  “But Altara,” said the blacksmith, laughing loudly. “I already have!”