Chapter 2: The not-immortal Blacksmith – The Collected Chapters 1-4 Tinker, Taylor, Soldier, Spy and other pertaining chapters

A/N I collected these as one post/chapter because they are all very short, and are in the process of being rewritten. Please enjoy!

 

 

The not-immortal Blacksmith - Chapter 1 - The Immortal Blacksmith

I've been traveling the continent of my birth for around 40 years or so. It is the Year of the Wyvern, year 28 of the rule of King Ganglia the third. His great grandfather King Ganglia the 2nd was in charge when I was off killing the Demon lord with my friend Tristan. I still miss that man. I hope he did well when he returned to his own land of Murika.

I have seen every garden, landmark, temple, museum, art gallery, and villa of note. At some I made donations, at others I stole from the till. I'm not above petty revenge for stupidity. About three weeks ago I met a Dwarf, male or female I can not say, as they all have beards and wear armor. Now the Dwarf in question, one Bjorn Stoneaxe, is a master smith. Not just household items either, he (all Dwarves are HE; until you art told otherwise; NEVER assume; It is a majorly bad idea) also made armor, and weapons. Being a deft hand at the craft myself, I asked about an apprenticeship.

"Well, young lad, I don't know if ye are up to me standards." Said Bjorn.

"I tell you what, give me a week, and let me show you what I can do." Said I. Bjorn didn't take the bait, so I sweetened the pot. "I will even pay the appropriate cost for using your smithy."

"Oh, well why din'cha start with that, lad?" Bjorn replied.

*-*-*

I've now been with Bjorn for 49 years. I have learned so very much from him, and he from me. He turns 350 tomorrow. We are going out to celebrate after work.

King Ganglia the 3rd died last week. Prince Wilhelm Carbuncle will be crowned next week. I plan to keep on ignoring politics.

*-*-*

Bad news. Very bad news. I'm not even talking about the Goddess of Tranquility appearing to me in the toilet, telling me that I need to seek out the newly summoned "Chosen One from Another World!" I told her to "piss off, I'm leaving a shit here!" and she wouldn't relent! "The new Demon Lord has appeared in the far east! You must help!" To which I replied, "Been there, done that, got the shirt made out of a T. Find someone else to do your dirty work. I'm out." She disappeared. I may have mooned her too...

No, the Very bad news is that Bjorn has been covering for me for 30 years! Shit! Apparently he has been telling people that I am "Just an odd, overly tall Dwarf." I need to leave. I have spent too much time here. I have decided to leave tonight, and will leave a letter for Bjorn.

In the words of Tristan, TTFN.

*-*-*

The Not-Immortal Blacksmith Chapter 2 - Tinker

I've been living in the small village of Heckles for 10 years. The king hasn't changed so it is the 10th year of the rule of King Wilhelm Carbuncle.

Over the last 10 years all of the available ladies have, at one point or another, paraded themselves past me in an attempt at marriage. And before you say anything, I was informed by the matchmaker that the ladies were doing it. I'm planning to leave soon.

*-*-*

Good news! A group of tinkers has stopped in town! A group of mostly Gnomes, and some humans. I have been talking to their leader, Garm, about joining them when they leave at the end of the week. I hope I can were him down.

*-*-*

I got Garm to say yes! We will be leaving at dawn!

*-*-*

The travel has been fun, I have missed being on the road. I am learning so much about the mechanics of intricate devices like music boxes and watches work. Occasionally we stop at a larger farm hold in the size of 50-60 people and help with the farming equipment. These are the places where my smithing comes to the forefront.

*-*-*

Our merry band of tinkers is splitting up. At 327, Garm has decided to retire and return to his home in the hills of the deep south. The rest of the gnomes have decided to follow him, and I have had a good thirty years of travel. I've decided to open a smithy in the nearby town of Greens Willow. It has a fairly sizable population in the low 3000s. I think I can fit in for about 20 years before I move again.

*-*-*

King Wilhelm Carbuncle is celebrating his 65th birthday in a month or so. The ladies in town are all abuzz due to the new fashions coming out of the capital. I've been here at "The Naked Eagle Blacksmith Shop" for almost 4 years. Life is good.

Except for the fact that the demon front is now closer than I like. Turns out I didn't look too closely at the map as the tinkers were making their way. We had gone about 140 miles east. Poop.

There are groups of adventurers wandering around town on most days now. I hope I don't have to deal with any of the Goddesses chosen ones. She's lost 4 of them so far.

TTFN

*-*-*

The not-immortal Blacksmith - Interlude - The Adventurers 1

Kai, a young man of 15 years, and his companions, Yuri (14, female), and Shiro (15, Male), had just made it to level 8! As they cleaned their weapons and equipment from slaughtering the marauding Orc band near the town of Greens Willow, the Goddess spoke to them in her sweet and melodic voice, "Go to Greens Willow, and search out the odd blacksmith. He will help you on your quest."

"Well that's it then. She hasn't steered us wrong before. Lets go find this guy and get our first NPC party member!" Shiro said with a smile.

"Do you think its that old immortal blacksmith who served with the great hero Tristan?" Yuri asked.

"Naw. The rumors said he disappeared years ago, and anyway, those are just rumors. Humans don't live past 50 around here." Kai replied.

They traveled to the village of Greens Willow.

*-*-*

A day in town saw the adventurers ensconced at one of the inns and looking for the "odd smith". There were three smithies in town, a general blacksmith, a weapons smith, and an armor smith. They spent several hours checking out the weapons and armor, but found nothing of note that would suggest any great skill that would help on their adventurers.

"Should we bother with the other guy?" Yuri asked.

"May as well. What do we have to loose?" Says Shiro.

"Okay. Lets go." Kai replied.

*-*-*

A short while later the party arrives at the outskirts of the village, and see an old fashioned outdoor smithy with a small dwelling/shop behind it. Above the smithy a sign proclaims "The Naked Eagle Blacksmith Shop". Hanging from the forge itself is another smaller sign, in runes the locals can't decipher.

"You see that little sign hanging on the forge?" Kai asked.

"Yeah. I don't know what it says, it's in English." Shiro responds.

"It says 'Naked Eagle Blacksmith Shop'. Why?" Yuri responds a heartbeat later.

The three adventurers look at each other for a moment before, in unison saying, "ENGLISH???"

"Kai, check him out using your Sight power." Shiro says.

"You got it." Kai replies, then "Power of Sight show me all." His eyes narrow as he stares at the young smith. "Okay. Here goes," and he reads aloud,

" 'SLINGER; LEVEL: UNKNOWN.

BLACK SMITH; LEVEL: UNKNOWN.

WEAPON SMITH; LEVEL: UNKNOWN.

ARMOR SMITH; LEVEL: UNKNOWN.

TINKER; LEVEL: UNKNOWN.

ADVENTURER SUPPORT; LEVEL: UNKNOWN.

MAGIC ITEMS: UNKNOWN, UNKNOWN, UNKNOWN, UNKNOWN, UNKNOWN, UNKNOWN, UNKNOWN.

GENERIC CRAFTSMANS CLOTHING."

Kai takes a deep breath. "Alright. so he is at least 10 levels above us, or I would be able to reads his levels. I have seen several people around here that have job titles, but no readable levels. But six jobs? I've never seen that many. Even the great sage only had 2."

"Well, lets go talk to him." Says Shiro.

Yuri nods.

The party approaches the smith. "Good afternoon, blacksmith! Could you perhaps help us?" Asks Shiro.

"I'm always willing to help out the good people of the village. You, are not from the village." the smith responds, without looking up.

"Um, yeah, so anyway, what do you have for sale?" Shiro continues, only slightly put off by the smith's manner.

Still not looking up from where he is pounding out nails on the anvil, the smith points to the display of pots and pans hanging form a rack nearby. "That's what I currently have on hand. Got some commissions I'm waiting on handles for. Otherwise not much. If I dig around in the shop, I might find a couple of old daggers I could sell you."

Kai raises an eyebrow, "I could use a new pair of daggers, mine aren't doing so well after that Ooze last week."

The smith looks up for a moment. "Show me."

Kai obliges, as the smith puts down his hammer and iron, taking a step over.

"Inferior steel. Bad grip. Should have twisted wire over leather, not heavy cloth." the smith mumbles, mostly to himself, then louder, "You got ripped off. Joshua has a new set that is much better, and at a decent price. You know where his shop is?"

Yuri pipes up, "Yes. We were there earlier, but nothing caught our eye."

"Alright. I'll be back in just a tick." The smith says and walks to his abode.

Quietly, Kai asks, "A tick? Isn't that a clock reference? How would he know that word? We haven't even seen a clock in this world."

A few minutes later, and with many curse words, the smith returns with an old, but well built chest. "I haven't looked in here for a few, but the daggers should be inside." He unlocks it with a key from his belt and opens it. "Ah, here you go lad." He withdraws a matching pair of plain daggers that just seem to ooze malice. "250 for the pair."

"Silver or gold?" Kai asks.

"Gold. Magic items ain't cheap. Even if you make them yourself." The smith responds.

The three adventurers huddle together for a few moments.

"That's a good chunk of money, but..." Shiro says.

"Kai, use your power and check them out?" Yuri asks.

"Will do. Power of Sight identify item," Kai says, and narrows his eyes at the daggers. "Okay...

DAGGERS OF DEATH; LEVEL 50; MATCHED PAIR; WHEN USED SINGELY THE DAGGERS DO +100% DAMAGE AND INFLICT 'BLEEDING'. WHEN USED AS A PAIR THE DAGGERS DO +300% DAMAGE AND INFLICT 'MASSIVE BLEED OUT'."

The party looks at each other for a time before the smith interrupts them, "Doing that without asking permission is kinda rude, you know."

"Um, I'm sorry?" Kai says.

"Good enough. So, 250 golds. Yes, or no?" The smith asks.

Shiro quickly responds, "Yes. We'll take them." and hands over the money.

"A pleasure doing business with you. Now skedaddle. I have work to do." The smith tosses the gold, without counting it, into the chest, then closes and locks it before he heads back to his anvil. "Stupid metal went cold. Oh well."

"Um, sir smith? Could we take a bit more of your time?" Yuri asks.

Placing the metal bar into the forge and turning the blower handle a few times to heat it up again, the smith turns back, "What now?"

"The Goddess told us to search you out. She said you would help us on our quest to slay the Demon King." Says Yuri.

"No." The smith says in a flat voice. "Not happening. Your 'goddess' is an idiot."

Thunder booms across the village.

Stepping out from the forge, the smith looks up at the sky. "Oh, didn't like that, you little trollop?" He places his right hand under his shirt, in the small of his back. "You want to come down here and make something of it?"

Kai heard a quiet, but audible to his ears, Ka-Klick sound from behind the smith's back. The sound made him shudder, but he was unsure why.

A quieter boom of thunder growls across the sky.

"I didn't think so. Now tell your 'chosen ones' to get lost. I have work to do, you idiot!" The smith yells at the sky.

The party of adventurers look at the smith, then at the sky, then back at the smith. Thunder quietly booms in the distance as a bolt of lightning strikes a tall unassuming tree.

Behind his anvil, the blacksmith looked at the party, "Scat, before I become your Huckleberry."

The party ran.

*-*-*

Back at the inn, the party has gathered at one of the tables in the common room.

After taking a swig of what passed for ale, Shiro asks, "Does anyone know what that was about?"

"I think, that may have been the legendary immortal smith arguing with the goddess." Yuri says.

"Did anyone else hear that Ka-Klick sound from behind the smiths back?" Asks Kai, still shaking a bit.

The other two look at him. "Was it a metallic 'ka-klick'?" Shiro asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes. Definitely." Kai answers.

"Like the sound of a revolver in the old American 'western' movies my dad used to always watch?" Shiro prods.

"Yes. Exactly like that." Kai nods his head. "What could he possibly have that would make that sound?"

Shiro shakes his head, mildly twitching in fear. "In the words of Sherlock Holmes 'When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth'. I think the Goddess almost got shot..."

*-*-*

The Not-Immortal Blacksmith Chapter 3 - Tailor

Stupid 'chosen ones' showed up at the shop today. Sold them an old pair of knives I made back when I was with Bjorn. Fun days.

The idiot goddess tried to make a scene when I said "No" to going along with them. If she had actually showed up in person, I would have shot her in the foot. Again. She decided to behave and ran off to throw a temper tantrum in the woods. I feel sorry for the trees.

*-*-*

It's whatever year. King Wilhelm Carbuncle is on his deathbed. I kinda envy him for that. He is 73 years old and has a bunch of legitimate and illegitimate children. Why couldn't he keep it in his pants? The succession is going to be a pain.

Looks like the kids did it. The Demon king is dead. Too bad it took so long. There are a bunch of wannabe demon lords wandering around now.

*-*-*

I've been here approaching 20 years. The village has grown to be a real town. The council has tried to make me move my shop on three different occasions. Not happening. On the other hand, I've been looking at leaving and giving the shop to my apprentice. A good lass. Been here for almost ten years. Sandy should be fine.

*-*-*

I'm on the road again. Too many adventurers. Too many 'chosen ones' roaming around. You could hardly take a piss without hitting one. I'm done. I think I'll go and look for a job in the capital as a tailor. I've been trying my hand at sewing and mending my own clothes for the last few years. So far so good, I've gotten no complaints. Hahaha

*-*-*

The capital of Garthia, that's our nations name, is Garthax. It is located on the great western ocean. The city is a metropolis! Soaring building, great houses, temples to all of the gods, even a temple to the 'small gods'. I haven't been here in what, a couple centuries? I forgot how much fun this place is.

I have achieved a job working for a large mercantile house, cutting patterns. In a few years I may get into the actual sewing of garments.

*-*-*

I've been in the capital for three years now. I have a set tradesman schedule and hours. I am content. I have been promoted to third assistant tailor! A slight raise in wages, and better hours.

*-*-*

King Gregory Yuri Bartholas is in his 3rd year as king. Yes, that adventurer married into the royal family after she and her merry band of misfits helped Gregory's father win the crown. I have seen her in the streets a few times, but have always turned the other way. Royals. Bah.

I have gotten a few promotions over the years. I'm now head tailor at the Mercantile. Our best customers are of the nobility, and I give them my best designs. When I have been asked my age, I tell them I am a very young 40. We all laugh at the joke. I have confided in the owner that I was cursed to look young until I die. He believed me. Apparently that has happened to people before.

*-*-*

One of my dresses attracted the eye of the queen mother. I'm stuck now. I plan on resigning after she is properly fitted. I don't want that kind of attention. I should have quit years ago.

*-*-*

The fitting is done. She did remember me. I got a severe tongue lashing for not going along on their quest. I politely told her the she and her 'idiot goddess' could piss right off. That went over not so well, but she relented after I yelled out the window at the thunder storm.

*-*-*

I'm on my way back east. I should be able to make a living in any of the small villages as long as I stay at least 100 miles from the capital. Maybe one of the northern ones that border the old demon kingdom.

TTFN

*-*-*

The not-immortal Blacksmith - Interlude - Queen Yuri (F you brother dear!)

--Excerpts from Queen Yuri's diary pertaining to "the Blacksmith"--

My husband has abdicated the thrown to our son! Happy retirement! My son is now king! No worries now about the succession.

*-*-*

I saw the Heathen blacksmith in town today. How is he still alive? I was sure the goddess would have killed him by now.

*-*-*

I saw him again today. I directed the spymaster to have someone find him. The blasted man disappeared. No one can seem find him.

*-*-*

At tonight's midsummer ball I saw the most exquisite gown! Lady Chastity's husband looked truly gorgeous as well. Apparently the newly promoted head tailor at the Gwenneth Mercantile house is a marvel, perfect to work with and not free with his hands at all! I assumed he just doesn't like women, but Lord Chastity claimed he was the same way with him. Very interesting. Maybe he is what we used to call an 'Ace' back on earth?

*-*-*

It's him! The heretic blacksmith is a tailor now!! I cannot believe it! My fitting is in 2 days. Who in this world can do a gown in 2 days?!?

*-*-*

My fitting was today. It was perfect. I truly cannot believe what this man can do. The Goddess really did bless him. Why does he refuse to help her?

I spoke to him at length about it today. He did not take it well. He called the Goddess and I "Idiots"! Then when the Goddess showed her displeasure over that, he yelled at her out the window! The nerve of the man! I will send the guard to fetch him in a few days. He can answer to my son for his unkind words.

*-*-*

He is gone. He apparently resigned the day after my fitting. On the other hand, he did leave several dozen new and easily altered patters for the Gwenneth Mercantile house as a parting gift. They will be making money hand over fist for decades on those patterns alone. He also left a bevy of excellently trained apprentices in his wake.

I am somewhat saddened that I will never see that heretic again.

*-*-*

The Not-Immortal Blacksmith Chapter 4 - Soldier

"Naked Eagle Tailors" is doing well. I've been here for almost a dozen years. I have three excellent apprentices. We specialize in high quality peasant clothing at a reasonable price, and concealed armor versions of the same.

After turning down several attempts at marriage, I have had a few "eccentric" men attempt to court me. I politely have made it clear that I am not interested, and have been left alone. One of the gentlemen, Adam, has found his way into the shop as one of my apprentices. I believe he has good taste, but that is mostly because when he came to interview, he was wearing one of my old designs. He did confide that his aunt found it in a second hand shop in the capital a few years back and sent it to him.

*-*-*

The god of war came to my shop today. He demanded that I make him a new sword and plate armor. I told him "No. I don't do that anymore." He ranted on and on and on. Then he accosted several of my customers and my lead journeyman Mary.

I ended up stepping out from behind the sales counter and backhanding him across the mouth. That didn't end well. I have a duel tomorrow.

*-*-*

I am unhappy to announce that I survived the duel.

I showed up at the secluded meadow (that wasn't there yesterday) promptly at a few ticks before dawn, with Mary as my second, sword and shield in hand. We waited for almost an hour before the god arrived with his second...the goddess.

She looked at me, then war, then back to me. "You know War, I don't fancy your odds." She then disappeared in a crack of thunder.

We faced off, then at the sign from Mary, we crossed swords. He was fast. Very very fast. I did my best to block and repose, but to little effect. He got several "paper cuts", I got grievous injuries. He stabbed me in the chest, pushed my corpse off of his blade, and said "that was pathetic."

A moment later, from the ground, I replied "Is that the best you can do? Monsters hit harder than that."

The look on his face was priceless!

He killed me 14 times. Each time I got up again. He took my head off, and I still got up, my head somehow being reattached. He finally gave a grunt of approval after his lightning repeatedly struck me, burning me to ash. And I got up. Again.

"Fine. I now see why The Goddess loves you so much. You don't even submit to the gods. I will keep my eye on you." And he disappeared in a flash of light.

Just what I don't need. Another god looking at me.

*-*-*

War is brewing. The demon kingdom has "solidified" behind four separate leaders, and is moving to attack. I plan on moving my operation wholesale a few hundred miles to the south so we can be safe.

*-*-*

"Recruiters" for the army are moving through the area, bringing all of the "worthwhile" men to the capital for "training". They are nothing more than slavers as far as I'm concerned. They captured Adam yesterday, but let him go. I'm not surprised, he is a bit too flamboyant to fit into military life.

*-*-*

Moving day was supposed to be yesterday. The Recruiters found me. I signed the papers for them, and sent the shop south. They should do fine. I guess I'm a soldier now.

*-*-*

The "basic training" is a joke. But I have kept me mouth shut. I think Mary could have taken most of these recruits with one hand behind her back. Then again, I think Mary had some Orc blood in her several generations back.

*-*-*

Basic training is over. I have been assigned to the 4th Army, 3rd Infantry division, blah blah blah. Military life, now that training is over, is actually fairly simple. We will be heading north in a couple weeks to support the western (not the far western) lines. We will probably be the first into the breach. Something Tristan would have called The Forlorn Hope.

*-*-*

The fighting has been furious, bloody, and very deadly. Most of my training platoon is dead. There are 14 of us left out of the original 80. I have asked permission to use my own weapons, as opposed to those I was issued. The answer from on high was "sure". I'm a sergeant now, as we are divest of proper officers and non-coms. I have issued weapons from my personal chest to my fellows. Good old Bjorn was right when he told me it would be a good idea to stock up.

*-*-*

Corporal Wallace only lost his arm today, instead of his life when the demons blade cut through it. The armor I loaned him stopped the blade from cutting him in half. It has been 6 months since I assigned the new armor and weapons, and we are starting to get a reputation for survival. There are some rumors that the officers are going to seize our equipment and give it to the nobles. I won't stand for that.

*-*-*

They tried to seize the equipment today. I challenged the noble in charge to a duel over them, winner take all. He accepted. Idiot.

*-*-*

I am now the Baron of Coxnia. Apparently "winner takes all" includes noble titles, land, houses, etc. Stupid laws. If it wasn't for my men, I would desert.

*-*-*

It has been a full year for us on the front lines. We are officially know as "The Forlorn Hope", as before it was just a nickname. There are now 20 of us. I have equipped all of us with the best gear I have. Even the secret "Chosen One". He was easy to pick out. Thrice dammed goddess told him to seek me out.

Max (the god of war) showed up at my tent today to wish me good luck in my coming battles. I shot him in the foot.

*-*-*

I am sure now that the general is trying to kill us off. We are being used as the spearhead of "operation piper down". I plan on wearing both boom-sticks (I find it to be a more apt name than 'Revolver') that Tristan left me.

The demon lord is expected to take the field tomorrow.

*-*-*

Have I mentioned how much it hurts to get stabbed? It hurts a lot. We almost engaged the head demon today. I will refuse to call that piece of baby filth "The Demon Lord". These people don't know what a Demon Lord actually is. Idiots.

I will give him this though, his guards were almost up to snuff. A good word I got from Tristan.

*-*-*

The head demon is dead. Our chosen one, Einar from the Land of Ice, faced him one on one, and killed him. He screamed "Die you Commie Pig!" before taking his head off with a heavy sweeping blow from his (my) sword. I don't know what that breed of pig is.

I expect him to disappear from this world soon. I hope I get my things back before he goes.

*-*-*

It turns out that Einar isn't going back. He is "Reincarnated", apparently he died back home and came here. It also turns out that he was recruited by “Maximilian, god of war”. Interesting. I have decided to abdicate my Barony to him. We will be heading there in a few weeks to take care of things.

TTFN

*-*-*

You are reading story The not-immortal Blacksmith at novel35.com

The not-immortal Blacksmith - Interlude - Einar

Excerpts from the personal journal of Baron Einar Ólafsson

My name is Einar Ólafsson, and I am from Reykjavík Iceland, in the year 1953. I died in a traffic accident that involved a "Troll Rock", and the God of War of this new world asked if I wanted to be reincarnated as a hero. Obviously, I said yes.

My mentor, and dare I say friend, Maxwell, a local to this world, has suggested that I keep a journal. After seeing his journals, I am convinced that it is a good idea.

After killing the "demon lord" as the army is calling him, I/we have been discharged from military service, and we traveled to Maxwell's new home. I was surprised when we got there that he turned to me and said, "Here you go kid, this place is yours now. I have no use for the nobility." He assisted me with the transfer of lands and title.

I begged him to stay for a while and assist me in my new role as Baron. He acquiesced.

*-*-*

It has been 3 months, and the work has been hard. The last baron was not a just ruler. He robbed the people blind, stole their women, and ruined the local economy. I have been working without a break from sun up to past sundown.

The Duchy is about 17 square miles, mostly rolling hills. Our major exports include wood (we have an enormous forest) and farm goods. We import mostly textiles and luxury goods. We have a small copper/iron/tin mine, but only enough is produced for local consumption, not export.

I am making inroads with the locals, first by firing all of the tax collectors, then by prosecuting them for breaking the kings law. The people were shocked to say the least. I am planning to implement a new tax code in the spring.

*-*-*

"Winter" here is much more mild than I am used to. I find myself liking it more than my homeland. The population has been coming around more to my way of things after the "Sheriff" incident last month. I didn't want to, but he "needed killing" as Max said. I will not recite his crimes against humanity, but they would have made the Nazis proud.

*-*-*

It is now spring, and I unveiled the new iron plows to the farmers today. They had been using the ancient wooden ones that don't work very well. The shock and awe on the farmers faces was nice to see. When they found out they were a free gift from me to them there wasn't a dry eye in the crowd. I plan on using this as a stepping stone for my new taxation policy. The old money won't like it, but they will come around when they see the return on their investment.

*-*-*

It is midsummer. The old money has eaten their words. The populace is chafing at the bit for more ideas and inventions. The money is coming in nicely. There are 2 more windmills in the works, one for sawing logs, the other for grinding grain. It seems that we will have a bumper crop this year. I'm planning to help fund more storehouses for the villages.

*-*-*

My second fall approaches, and the people are starting to worry about an heir. They expect me to get married. I have no idea how to go about it here. There is a ball next week for me to meet prospective wives. Maxwell has shown another side of himself and made a most handsome suit for me to wear. It is the rival of anything you could find in the capital.

Speaking of the capital, The Queen Mother has taken ill, and has refused treatment. Apparently, much as myself, she also came here from our world when she died, and has decided that it has been long enough. I was able to attend her for a while and told her of my friend Maxwell. She seemed very interested. I wish her well in her afterlife.

*-*-*

As predicted, the better plows made better fields, and in turn made a bountiful crop. I have, almost literally, vegetables of all sorts coming out of my ears. The granaries were barely finished in time to hold the crops. The current sales estimates will keep the Duchy solvent for several years to come, and no one will be going hungry this winter.

Speaking of winter, I have made schooling compulsory. Everyone, regardless of station or age, will be learning to read, write and do basic sums. I believe this will take most of the adults no more than a few years. The young will of course take longer. I have set up a fairly simple and straightforward mandatory test that will be held here in the palace for graduation. No one seems to like the idea, but no one has any real objections either.

*-*-*

School for the people has had a few hiccups. The nobility doesn't like their children being exposed to the masses. I told them that they could pay for their own tutors for their children. They looked at the extra expense that would incur, as they would still have to pay the "Education Tax" and pass the exam, and they folded. There are also some problems with them expecting preferential treatment from the teachers. I had to nip that problem. My response was along the lines of, "If your children are better because of the station they were born to, they should be able to prove it by not needing the extra help in class." Maybe not the best way to solve things, but I am too busy to deal with shenanigans.

*-*-*

Spring has come again, and the rains are worse than normal. There has been some excessive flooding, and several roads and a bridge have been washed out. I wish I had paid more attention in class when bridges were discussed.

*-*-*

Maxwell has informed me that he will be departing next spring. He has been feeling his wanderlust, I fear.

I'm set to marry a nice young woman a summer fair. We have been seeing each other for several months, and she seems to be completely smitten with me. We met at the ball last year and have been keeping in touch. It is not quite an arranged marriage, but close enough that I am a bit uncomfortable with it. Maxwell has said he will look into it for me.

*-*-*

It has been 3 weeks, and Maxwell has returned. The news is both good and bad. Lady Margaret is indeed smitten. But not with me. She is smitten by the money, prestige, and power that will be hers upon the marriage. Apparently there is also worry that she, or more likely her parents, are behind the recent bandit raids that have been happening on our eastern border. The border we happen to share.

I am disheartened by this, as I had found myself looking forward to the marriage.

*-*-*

Due to the bandit raids, I have been forced to take up steel again. My guards and I, with the assistance of Maxwell, have dealt them a blow. On the morrow we will raid their encampment.

*-*-*

The raid is over. I say with a heavy heart that my bride to be and her family were there, enjoying a delicious meal when we attacked. The surviving bandits and the family that sponsored them are in chains, awaiting the kings judgment.

*-*-*

The Kings Judge put them to death. Man, women, and children. All of them. Never before have I had it rubbed in my face that this is truly a new and different world. I cried for the children.

*-*-*

Maxwell is an ass.

The children are now in my care, as is their lady maid. I will keep them safe, and in a few years reveal them to the king. By the point in time of the revelation, things should be changed enough that all will be forgiven.

As the "victim" of the crime, I have been awarded half of the neighboring duchy. It is not nearly as bad off as mine when I first arrived, but still in need of support. I will bring them into the fold as gently as I can.

Maxwell is still an ass.

*-*-*

I have been set up. Maxwell it thrice an ass. He has played matchmaker, and I have fallen into his trap. There will be a wedding this summer fair, and it will still be mine. Lady Beatrice, the former ladies maid and I have been "running into" each other on numerous occasions not of our choosing. It ended up being some kind of mating dance set up by the children and Maxwell. Stumbling into a room accidentally where one or the other of us is changing, switching signs and hours on the bath, mismatched meals, all sorts of things. Most of them fairly embarrassing.

I will maintain to the day I die, that Maxwell, is an ass.

*-*-*

The wedding is tomorrow. Maxwell has outdone himself this time. Not only do I have the finest suit I have ever seen, but I have been told that Lady Beatrice's gown would have made the Queen Mother cry. I am so nervous that I can barely sleep.

*-*-*

Yesterdays wedding was fantastic! The king himself sent a representative. Also in attendance were my old companions in arms, and a few individuals that looked hauntingly familiar. The Priest of the Goddess was the officiate for the occasion, and for some reason, was very flustered for the entire service.

The reception was a wonder, Maxwell pulled out all the stops. He didn't even threaten to shoot anyone. He did seem to be a bit upset with a familiar looking young lady and her male escort. He did introduce me to an old friend of his, a Dwarf named Bjorn. Excellent story teller that one. Several amusing tales about Maxwell in his youth... That has lead me to question how old Maxwell actually is, as it seemed the stories took place many years ago...

*-*-*

Winter is upon us again, and Maxwell will be leaving in the spring. I am melancholy about this. In the way of good news, my wife is pregnant with our first (of many I hope) child! I hope that I can talk Maxwell into being the godfather. I doubt he will agree, seeing as to his dislike of religion.

Otherwise all is well here.

*-*-*

It is late spring. Maxwell did agree to be the godfather of my daughter. On the condition that she, not "The idiot she's going to marry" inherit my lands and title. I obviously agreed, who wouldn't want the Immortal Blacksmith on their side after all?

*-*-*

Maxwell left during the night. Not even a note. But I am sure he will return one day. Farewell my friend.

*-*-*

The not-immortal Blacksmith - Interlude - The Adventurers 2

"Alright Cody, I believe that's our target." Herald said.

"I told you to call me 'Gandalf' you N00B!" Cody responded.

"And I told you to pick a proper name, not steal one from ancient history." Herald said, sighing.

They were hidden in a small grove of trees, where the underbrush was very overgrown, and looking at their newest target for the king. The target in question was wearing fairly nondescript brown homespun peasant garb (even though he was the guest of the duke), complete with sturdy boots and a wide brimmed straw hat. He could have been anyone in a crown, so they had to make sure.

Herald took a deep breath, "Fine, 'Gandalf', pull up that guys character sheet, and lets see if it really is him."

"Just a second." Gandalf/Cody took a deep breath, then intoned, "Show me your sheet!"

After another moment Gandalf/Cody read out loud, "NAME: MAXWELL SMITHSON

HUMAN

EXPERIENCE POINTS: ERROR

CLASS: NPC: SMITH ERROR

CLASS: NPC: TINKER ERROR

CLASS: NPC: TAYOL ERROR

CLASS: NPC: WARRIOR ERROR

CLASS: CLERIC 1

CLASS: NPC: NOBLE 1

CLASS: NPC: ENCHANTER ERROR

CLASS: THIEF 3

CLASS: MAGIC USER 3

CLASS: ARTIFICER ERROR

CLASS: NPC: ERROR

CLASS: NPC: ERROR

HP: 33*

AC: -7...17*... ERROR

THAC0: 1

STRENGTH: 15, +2

DEXTERITY: 13, +1

CONSTITUTION: 12, +1

INTELIGENCE: ERROR, ERROR

WISDON: ERROR, ERROR

CHARISMA: 13, +1

Save vs. Parallelization, Poison, and Death Magic: 8*

Save vs. Rod, Staff, or Wand: 10*

Save vs. Petrification or Polymorph: 10*

Save vs. Breath Weapon: 10*

Save vs. Spell: 10*

Will: ERROR

Strength: +/- 8*

PROFICIENCY BONUS: 3.14159*

OTHER PROFICIENCIES AND LANGUAGES: COMMON, DWARVEN, TOOLS (ERROR*); WEAPONS: (ERROR), (ERROR), (ERROR), GREATER WEAPONS MASTER*

m;libezsw5renoi;sebroi;j zS,.JK IDIOT"

"This is way too weird. I don't get this at all. WTF is THAC0? How do you get an AC of -7?" Gandalf/Cody shook his head, frowning. "And 'Thief' or Magic User'? What kind of classes are those?"

Herald, shaking his head as if to clear it, said, "What? THAC0? That's way old. Like older than both of us put together. Something about this is weird. Maybe we should go back?"

A gruff voice behind them spoke up, "Go back to where, boys?"

*-*-*

The not-immortal Blacksmith - Interlude - The Abbot of Coxnia

A correspondence between The Abbot of Coxnia and the Archbishop of the Goddess of Tranquility

Dearest Archbishop of our Goddess of Tranquility,

I find myself in need of informing you of the recent events here in the Duchy of Coxnia. I, as the local priest in charge of such things, was asked to be the officiate at the wedding of Sir Einar of the Land of Ice, and his fiance Lady Beatrice.

The wedding itself was a wonderful affair, but, the Goddess herself was in attendance, and as her escort was Maximilian, God of War! As a side note, as I don't find it too import, Bjorn was also in attendance.

The most stressful thing of the whole wedding was the Heretic Blacksmith was there! I do not understand why the Goddess would let such a man exist, let alone come to a wedding in which he was involved.

I also don't understand why the Goddess would wink at me like that. My heart has not yet fully recovered.

Yours in Tranquility,

Abbot Cecil

*-*-*

Dearest Abbot Cecil of Coxnia,

I would never dare to guess our Goddesses intentions. You have been graced by her presence now, and should be grateful of it. The fact of her escort being the god of war is an interesting tidbit, but do not bandy it about, as it may have dire consequences down the road. As for Bjorn, I have no idea as to why he was there.

Thank you for reporting on the deeds of the Heretic, it is much appreciated. I will attempt to speak to the king on the subject of the Heretic again, as such a person should not be walking this land.

Be well, and keep Tranquility in your heart,

Dhocdir, Archbishop of Tranquility

*-*-*

The Not-Immortal Blacksmith Chapter 5 - Spy

Einar and I arrived at "my" new lands today. The place is awful. I informed Einar that it was his problem now. He begged me to help. I acquiesced.

*-*-*

We cleaned out the rest of the bad seed today. The old monies people didn't like it, but too bad for them.

*-*-*

Einar is making headway. Good for him. He is supposed to get married soon. There are bandits on the border with one of the neighbors. Wonder why they haven't taken care of it.

*-*-*

Went and did some looking the last few weeks. Turns out Einar's wife to be is a "bad apple" as Tristan would say. When I told Einar about it, he was upset. We will be raiding the bandits camp soon.

*-*-*

Raid went well. Caught the nobles red handed. The king's judge will be around to make the decision at some point.

*-*-*

Well, the judge did as I expected. All of the bandits and all of the nobles were sentenced to death. Including the children. I may have to do something about that.

*-*-*

Did something about it. The children's maid is kinda cute, and keeps making moon eyes at Einar. Hmmm...

*-*-*

Einar is marrying the lady's maid. Good. Plan worked. The Goddesses head priest is set to do the deed. Idiot.

*-*-*

Bjorn made it to the wedding! So did some unsavory individuals. I did good, no one was shot. Why did that idiot and her consort (the other idiot) show up with Bjorn? Apparently they met up on the road. All in all, I had a good day.

*-*-*

I am leaving in a few weeks. It's almost been 3 years. Einar has a daughter, and I was surprised when I was asked to be the godfather. I accepted. Guess I'm stuck to this family now too. Maybe I should look up my own kin again? It has been a few years since I last saw any of them.

*-*-*

A couple of "Chosen Ones" were skulking in the bushes today. When I surprised them, they let it slip that the king wanted me to visit, by hook or by crook. I decided not to hurt them too much, they are just doing their jobs.

*-*-*

I snuck out last night. Surprised the kids in their secret camp. We leave for the king in the morning.

*-*-*

King Gregory Yuri Bartholas isn't a complete idiot, as he lacks his mothers complete devotion to the goddess.

Apparently my looking into the neighbors did not go unnoticed. Greg wants me to go have a lookey loo at the neighboring kingdom of Deeplefallsia and see what I can find out. I know he isn't telling me everything. I am willing to bet that the goddess is up to something, again. Also, there are way too many adventurers wandering around the capital these days. Idiots

*-*-*

I have taken the "Kings Highway"; a 1800 mile long, heavily traveled road, that runs from our capital of Garthax to the Deeplefallsia capital Flagondburn; and have stopped for a while to test the waters in the city Lostcairn. It is near enough to the border to get a lot of trade and information, without being to close.

*-*-*

After 6 months of rumors, information, and bad ale, I have learned enough to continue my journey. The accents change a bit from what I am used to, but nothing significant. I'm off in the morning to continue my journey.

*-*-*

I have stopped on the other side of the border. A nice business town named Curside. If I wasn't traveling on "Business" I would set up shop here for a while. I plan on staying for about 6 weeks in order to set up a business. "Naked Eagle Traveling Tinker and Smithing" will be my new cover. As I have never been in this country, I should be able to use my old name again.

*-*-*

It has only taken 2 weeks for the bureaucracy to get back to me, and I now have my travel permits and business license. The demonic incursion of a while ago really hasn't abated much, and so trade and travel have become somewhat restricted. It is recommended to not venture from the roads without a party of 3 or more. I think I will be fine as long as I stick to the highway.

*-*-*

The goddess approached me in the street, without all of her "Bells and Whistles", and politely asked me to meet with someone in a nearby cafe. I was in a good mood, so I agreed. The individual in question was Aslikale, the god of Chastity. Apparently I haven't been whoring enough as he asked if he could become my "Patron Deity". I didn't shoot either of them.

Honestly I was too shocked by their stupidity. "If the idiots ever left me alone, I might actually settle down and get married again." I told them. Well, actually, I have no intention of any such thing, but they don't need to know that.

*-*-*

Papers in hand, tinkers wagon loaded, I have left Curside.

*-*-*

And. Bandits.

Too bad. For them. They weren't fireproof.

*-*-*

Delivering messages and reports to blind drop points is tedious and boring.

*-*-*

I have been slowly traveling the highway for over a year now. I stop at each town for between two weeks and a month. The major towns average about 100 miles apart, with smaller villages, walled inns, or holdings every fifteen to twenty miles. The distance between stops really varies by the terrain the highway runs through. The people are mostly pleasant, especially to working travelers such as myself. I have been contracted a few times to carry letters to towns that are on my way. I wonder if a "Mail" system, such as Tristan talked about, would be a good idea...

*-*-*

Three separate groups of bandits on the road today. One bandit claimed he was a "wanted man in 5 kingdoms". I replied that I didn't want him. They are all dead. The next travelers can pillage the corpses.

*-*-*

I have spent the last three years traveling the kings road through Deeplefallsia. I'm going to attempt to travel into the demon controlled territory. I have been told it's very risky, but I've gotten bored of the same road, day in, day out.

*-*-*

I have arrived at my starting point, the village of Bearnefalls. It is small, and supports a keep as well as walls. My wagon and I will start our journey tomorrow.

*-*-*

Not more than 3 miles into the no-mans-land of the border, and I have run into a demon patrol. When they approached my wagon, I attempted to sell them some of my wares. When the leader and I locked eyes, he visibly twitched and ordered his men to "Leave this one alone. Warn the other patrols."

Their loss.

*-*-*

I have only seen demon patrols at a distance, and when they notice me notice them, they disappear. Something isn't right around here.

*-*-*

I found my first village, well I found my first road anyway. The remains of the village I found were very old and burned. I buried the few bodies that I found. Even the demon ones. Leaving bodies out to rot can cause disease. Don't people know that?

*-*-*

I have decided to chase a patrol. I want answers, and haven't found any settlements that still have inhabitants.

*-*-*

I have been following the same patrol for three days. They seem frightened. They are slowing down and getting sloppy. I should catch them tomorrow.

*-*-*

I drove into there camp just after dawn. They scattered. I chased down the best equipped of them. It gave me some information before attacking me. It seemed desperate. I think the quality of demon troops is dropping. Tomorrow I will follow up on what it told me.

*-*-*

The walled village of Bumush is small, just over 3000 people of all races. The guards are rail thin and iron hard. Finally some answers.

*-*-*

I have sold a good amount of wares and weapons, collected a small amount of information, and have moved on. The road is the same one I found before, but in slightly better condition. No bandits, the demons don't like the competition. No demons either. I'm heading north.

*-*-*

The demon patrols are still avoiding me. I should reach the walled town of Gilip in the morning.

*-*-*

Gilip is surrounded by demon troops. I have decided to just drive my wagon to the gate and request entry.

*-*-*

That was interesting. The demon hoard parted for me, making a nice little road. They even stopped assaulting the front gate. The townsfolk were hesitant at first, but did let me in. The demons seem to have stopped the assault for now.

*-*-*

I have been in Gilip for 2 weeks now. The people are nice enough, and starting to relax a bit. The demons haven't tried an assault since I arrived. The Knight General in charge of the city has asked me to accompany him to a meeting with the demon who claims to "own" the area. I have accepted.

*-*-*

The Demon Gexra, "lord of all he surveys", wasn't happy to see me. He may have looked a bit familiar? Anyway, a peace of sorts has been established. No more demon raids, low tax structure, no more "sacrifices", blah, blah, blah.

Looks like I will be traveling again soon. At a prompt from the Knight General, I did say something like "Would be a shame if I had to come back here." to Gexra, before the signing of the accord.

*-*-*

One more dead drop and I think I'm done being a spy. It's been 3 years? I think I'm going to tour this country properly, and then head down the coast to the Elven lands.

TTFN

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