05 — Legendary Craftsmen

05 — Legendary Craftsmen

We reached the smithy and a multitude of employees came out and bowed. Not to me, but to Grand and Trett. The arrival of such distinguished figures had sent the local workshop into a bit of a frenzy. These men were no mere artisans in their craft—they were straight-up superstars.

I turned to Catherine. “They’re that famous?”

They didn’t seem like anything more than a regular old dwarf and a weird fox-man to me, but I’d never met any others, to be fair. I lacked any points of comparison to confirm my biases.

“Did you think I was joking?” she asked. “They’re extremely famous. Grand’s the master of the Commerce Guild in Rockford, a little haven for craftsmen and artisans, and he’s one of the greatest blacksmiths you’ll ever find.”

And one of the most handsy, I thought. “Why is someone like that personally making my gear?”

“You can thank Her Holiness for that. Grand’s awfully fond of you now for proving that his work can take a healer through a labyrinth.”

“I can’t be the first one to have done that.” Either I was the first healer to ever use his equipment or Grand had a memory problem.

Catherine grinned and nodded to the dwarf. “Ask him yourself. Now, about Trett, he’s not just an expert artificer, his entire family comes from a line of master tailors. He’s one of the only five people in the world who can make that angel’s pillow you have.”

“Seriously?! He makes those? I don’t think I’ll ever be able to sleep without one anymore! Oh, uh, my bad. I should dial it back a bit.”

Unfortunately for Grand, Trett had just won me over. I wondered what other fanciful sleeping aides he was able to weave.

“I understand the feeling. I use one myself. Works wonders, doesn’t it?”

“It sure does. Don’t tell me he’s got more than that up his sleeve.”

“I hear he has a diverse skill set, but good luck to most people with finding an appointment given how many clients he has around the world. You’re one lucky guy, Luciel.”

It was all Monsieur Luck’s doing. Anything and everything seemed to go my way, thanks to him. I’d begun to doubt his presence lately, but now I knew that was probably just tough love. I couldn’t rely on the good Monsieur for everything or else my luck just might come back to bite me one of these days.

“Man, there are so many talented people everywhere I go.”

“You’re one of them, you know. Have some confidence in yourself.”

I shivered at the thought. Undead monsters I could handle. People? Not so much. Catherine gave me way too much credit. Somehow, that put my mind at ease.

“You know, I’m still terrified of fighting. I’m just an average guy with a knack for holy magic,” I said. “Nothing special.”

“I’m not sure an average guy could conquer a labyrinth.”

“All I want is to lead a peaceful life. Please. That’s it.”

“You do that.” Catherine smiled. My wish couldn’t have been that unfeasible.

“I will.”

The fuss over Grand and Trett finally died down, and the two immediately got to taking my measurements.

“Bring the sword down slow,” Grand instructed, “like you always do.”

“Like this?”

“Stop. Hold it there.”

Grand took some measurements while I held the pose, then studied my range of motion to get me fitted just right. Next, we had to determine where to weave the magic circle for maximum effect, and once that was done, they put me through some tests and adjusted their notes accordingly. All things considered, the process went smoothly. Silly me for assuming it meant I’d be out of there quickly, though.

I repeated their instructed movements over and over as they checked and double-checked for errors to the point where I was starting to feel like a mindless golem. Only when I’d reached the end of my rope was I finally released. I’d never have managed to see the whole thing through if it hadn’t been for the sincerity in their eyes, which spoke of the passion they put into even the most trivial aspects of their work.

“Welcome back,” Catherine said. “You were starting to look a little vacant there after a while, but you made it through.”

“It sure feels nice being able to move however I want again,” I joked. “Whoa, it’s already dark out. I should really get going.”

I wasn’t worried about a curfew, and I was an adult who could wander the night as I pleased, but I’d left my team for longer than I had planned. They could have very well been sitting around waiting to hear back from me.

However, the dwarf craftsman, who had just finished his work, had something different in mind.

“Now, don’t be a killjoy. We’re goin’ for drinks, and you’re gonna tell me all about what kinda weapons you like.”

“Oh-ho, there’s an idea,” Trett added. “You young men are always such dreamers, and I’d love to hear your ideas. Join us, won’t you, Cattleya?”

“Who, me? Oh, all right. Just for a bit, though,” she replied with (poorly) feigned reluctance.

Off we went into the night, the two old men flanking me with iron grips once more.

We came to a small, folksy kind of bar-restaurant.

“Wow, it’s so cozy here,” I commented.

“Damn right.” Grand beamed. “You’re sittin’ in the only place in the whole city you’ll ever find me having a drink.”

I wouldn’t have gone that far. The blacksmith must have had some history with the place.

“Something special about it?”

“Special? This here’s where I became a craftsman.”

“You weren’t always one? What was your first goal, to be a chef?”

He guffawed. “Nah, no ovens for me. Least not cookin’ ones. Back in those days, I was just a greenhorn smith, could barely hold a hammer. Barely made enough coin to eat. But the old guy used to run this place kept buyin’ my knives, those cruddy old things.”

“Sounds like an eccentric person.”

“That he was. Kept on buyin’ and buyin’ my shoddy work like it were his favorite thing to do. So I asked him why, and you know what he tells me?”

For the future of the art? Because they were still usable? “Not a clue.”

“‘Why, I have the privilege of using knives made by the hands of the future greatest blacksmith in the world. Still, I’d love to feast my eyes on work you’re truly passionate about,’ he said. Couldn’t look ’im in the eye, I was so embarrassed. The way he smiled at me. That’s when I swore to him I’d never let a single half-assed piece o’ metal outta my forge again.”

I could see why Grand felt so indebted to this man. It took someone special to push you to be not only the best but the best that you, specifically, could be.

“That’s amazing. What about you caught his eye?”

“’Cause I never hid how shit my knives were. I consider myself lucky I got to meet the guy.”

Grand’s honesty struck a chord with me. Whether my meeting with these two weirdos was a good or bad thing was entirely up to me and depended on what I did with it. It just might have been something special, but I kept those thoughts to myself.

“I’m looking forward to seeing what new gear you two can whip up.”

“You’d better! We’re gonna hammer out stuff worthy o’ legends with those materials. Where’s your glass? We gotta toast!”

“Oh, I’m sorry, but I actually promised my master that my first drink would be with him. He’s the guildmaster of the Adventurer’s Guild in Merratoni.”

Grand stared hard at me for a few seconds, then burst out laughing. “Sharin’ a pint with your master in this day and age? I like you, kid! Right, you have that drink with him, then it’s my turn. We’ll do it next time you need your gear fixed up.”

“Goodness, care to share some of that fun you’re having?” Trett whined.

“I’d love to join, if there’s room,” Catherine added.

With the addition of a sober (yet no less rambunctious) Trett and Catherine, our nice, cozy atmosphere went right out the door. Their sobriety didn’t last for long, and the drunks excitedly pounded my back all through the night. There would be many casts of Heal that evening.