Rise Of Myth: Heir To Valor 42 A Caring Armorer

He got up and washed his face in a basin that had been brought by a maid, before getting dressed to head down for some food. Descending to the first floor, the tavern was not too busy, but was as lively as usual. Muninn was again snacking at the bar at Val's expense, and Boldir was up and about, busying himself with some doc.u.ments.

"Where'd Asha go off to?" Val asked.

"Hah, you should ask this one. Once you do, feel free to run some errands… elsewhere." Boldir grunted, not looking up from his doc.u.ments.

"Muninn?" Val stood arms crossed, raising an eyebrow to the bird.

Muninn had an innocent expression as she quickly recounted. "Asha and I delivered your jerkin to Joanne this morning, then she said she had something urgent to take care of and left."

*Oh… f.u.c.k me…*

As if on cue, the door to the tavern was violently flung open, a scarlet haired dwarf woman marched in.

"Where is that chicken-legged fool of a boy?!" Joanne shouted, startling at least half the tavern's patrons, a few recognized her and immediately huddled or turned away, clearing a path to the bar for her.

Boldir sighed, shaking his head in resignation. "At least I've replaced many of the plates with wood…"

In a moment of bravery or perhaps sheer stupidity, Val opted to stand his ground. "Hey, I'm not chicken-legged."

Joanne whirled in his direction, marching towards him with stomping feet. When she was mere moments from where he was standing, she stopped abruptly, looking him up and down.

"Seems you managed to remain in one piece, good." The angry dwarf suddenly jabbed him in the ribs with a knuckle, beginning to harshly reprimand and belittle him with insults to his intelligence. She repeatedly jabbed at his ribs and when he began s.h.i.+elding himself with his arms she began smacking him with a strong, calloused hand.

"Not even one day after I fit you!— You go and nearly get yourself killed! Ruining my work in the process! Despite your word to not tempt danger! As if to mock me you do not even have the b.a.l.l.s to bring it to me yourself!" Joanne was angrily berating him as she tried to smack him upside the head. Val retreated, knocking over some bar stools, and Boldir just sat behind the bar holding his forehead in his hand.

"I didn't even intend to bring it to—" Val started.

"You were simply going to hide it and run off?!" The dwarf delivered a swift kick to his s.h.i.+n, causing him to stoop over and fall within better reach of her furious onslaught.

"Christ, woman! I was going to do it myself just not now! I'm sorry!"

Joanne suddenly stopped, returning her fists to rest on her hips. "Hmph. So you know how to apologize, you might have done so in the first place and spared yourself."

*Bulls.h.i.+t, you would have beat me anyway…*

Seeing the momentary ceasefire, one of the waitstaff quietly snuck around, timidly retrieving toppled bar stools and moving them away from the pair.

"So? You want to explain what in the h.e.l.l you did to my work?"

Not wis.h.i.+ng to bring further punishment upon himself, Val quickly recounted the ordeal, placing emphasis on his inability to have known about the wendigo's regenerative capacity. But when he explained the characteristics of the creature, Joanne's expression darkened.

"You are lucky to be alive, or rather lucky to have had Alevriasha at your side. But that's concerning news, I know of that monster. They are extremely rare, do not survive very long, and only appear far to the Northeast… The emergence of civilized society significantly hampered the conditions required to produce them."

"Well, this one seems to be doing just fine for itself."

"Yes… If it is as large as described, that is highly unusual, they are typically not much larger than a man."

"Well, I intend to hunt it again—" Val paused as Joanne's lip twitched, her knuckles whitening.

"I know what it can do now and won't get caught by surprise again. But how much will it cost and how long to mend the armor?" Val added quickly.

"A thousand crowns."

Val balked. "A thousand?! I could almost buy a new one!"

"Maybe it will deter you from destroying it again."

Val relented, seeing he was not going to win this one. "…Fine, but I need it fixed today."

Joanne narrowed her eyes on him but did not rebuke him.

"Great, maybe in the future you can refrain from any business dealings on my property." Boldir dryly remarked.

"Don't you start with me. I ought to have your hide too for encouraging them on this crazy task." Joanne glared at the barkeep, but Boldir simply waived a dismissive hand.

"That aside… Boldir, you mentioned you'd introduce me to a runesmith right?" Val asked, taking a seat and a bowl of oatmeal. Lunch was already being prepared so there were not many options for breakfast food remaining.

"Yes, here, take this letter. You can find him down in the workshops, you're looking for Durimarr." Boldir handed him an envelope bearing a wax seal.

Joanne raised an eyebrow. "What business do you have with the old coot? Does he even take commissions anymore? I thought he resigned himself to teaching now."

Boldir shrugged, nodding to Val. "Boy wields a runeblade, wishes to have it looked at."

Joanne looked at Val suspiciously, but did not broach any questions. "His workshop is a couple blocks past mine. Stop by when you're done there, I should have your armor ready in the afternoon, simply need to replace the front panels." Looking to return to her work, Joanne left the tavern much more peacefully than she arrived, causing Boldir to sigh in relief.

Val ma.s.saged his ribs, having received several vicious jabs in the same spot. "Man, she is brutal."

"Aye, though she is fiercely dedicated to her work, so don't take it too badly. She just cares more than an armorer should, always has." Boldir spoke with a wistful tone, staring blankly at a doc.u.ment, apparently lost in thought or reminiscence.

After finis.h.i.+ng his breakfast, Val equipped himself and left for the workshops with Muninn perched on her usual spot.

The market was as busy as usual, though there was the addition of a collection of stalls resembling something of a farmer's market. The farmers affected by the recent events seemed to be liquidating their a.s.sets, selling produce and even livestock at discounted prices. It appeared some of them got together and decided to relocate elsewhere. Val struck up conversation with one, hoping to discover more news about his quarry. What he learned instead was these farmers had decided to move East, not satisfied with the general hands-off att.i.tude of Kar Lodihr's governing council. The taxes may be higher but the protections were more guaranteed in Aurulian lands.

Continuing down for a while, Val left the market and found himself again among streets lined with workshops on both sides. The sounds of instruction and industry roared all around. Val eventually found the location described, a couple minutes past Joanne's workshop stood a humble shop, surrounded by what appeared to be smithies. It was a small business, only big enough for maybe a dozen people. Some lamps housing familiar aetherite crystals inscribed with runes stood around the entrance. A row of carved stones that fit in the palm of a hand sat in the window, inscribed with runewords. There was a sign posted but Val had not yet familiarized himself with the language, but the ajar door seemed to indicate the shop was open.

After taking a minute to inspect the strange stones on display, Val stepped inside, greeted with warm light of similar lamp fixtures as outside. There were more runestones on display inside, but also a few armors and weapons decorated with runes. The gear did not seem to be for sale, but rather to just display the work that could be commissioned. Clinking and hammering sounds could be heard as a few dwarves worked near the back of the store.

One of the dwarves paused his work, looking up at the potential customer.

"Picking up or dropping off?" He asked.

"Neither, I'm here to see Durimarr." Val said, producing the letter Boldir had given him.

The dwarf had a stern look. "He's not in."

"When will he return?"

"Don't know, maybe soon, maybe later." The dwarf returned to his work, leaving Val to frown at the dismissive att.i.tude. Without much other option, Val found a chair nearby and took a seat. Muninn as she was typical to do, hopped off and scampered around, curiously inspecting various work on display.

After waiting for nearly a half hour minutes, Val was growing annoyed with the indifferent treatment. "Hey, do you know where Durimarr has gone off to? Perhaps I can go meet him there."

"Don't know." Grunted the dwarf.

"I was recommended here by Boldir."

The dwarf shrugged. "And?"

Val glared at the dwarf. "I'm looking for Durimarr to mend the runes on my sword."

"Durimarr doesn't take commissions anymore."

"I'd like him to make an exception then."

"Not likely. He hasn't taken work himself in over thirty years, no exceptions. If you'd like to commission work, fill out a form and leave it there, we'll get to it when we get to it." The dwarf replied with annoyance, gesturing briefly to a counter with some doc.u.ments before returning to his work.

"I'll fill out a form if you are willing to work on this sword."

"Hmph. Sword's a sword, we work on dozens of them every week."

"Not like this one." Tired of debating with the dwarf, Val channeled his magic and drew his blade, disrupting the other craftsmen as they looked up in alarm.

"Are you mad? The guard'll have your head—" The dwarf froze, Val had activated his magic, lighting up his eyes, but the dwarf was not meeting his gaze, instead fixated on the longsword in Val's hand. Without another word the dwarf ran off down some stairs leading into a bas.e.m.e.nt.

In a moment an elderly, balding dwarf with a gray beard extending halfway down his chest ascended the stairs, the rude apprentice in tow. Unlike the other apprentices, he was not at all afraid or alarmed by Val's figure. A stern, gray pair of eyes on his wizened face met Val's fiery gaze.

"Tyrfing in hand, the fires of valor in the eyes, and the brand of Tyr. I am Durimarr. Who are you?"

"Val, Boldir sent me to you. I want to restore this sword."
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"There are none left who can restore that sword, not here at least."

"I do not need it to be completely restored, even a little will do."

Durimarr's eyes narrowed. "Why?"

"The same reason it was originally forged, to put down evil and mete out justice."

"Many have taken up that sword for that reason, and many have fallen to corruption with its power. Men have weak definitions of 'justice'. It may be best to leave that blade as it is."

"Maybe, but you can see yourself that I am not just another man taking up this sword."

"How you carry the fires of valor I do not know, and I do not care. Those that came before me condemned that blade, and so do I. I will not risk the craft of my ancestor wielded against our own kind ever again, leave, if you have no other business."

"I will not leave until you help me restore it."

"Hmph, then you may wait there as I summon the guard to arrest you for trespa.s.sing and loitering on my premises."

Val resolutely stood his ground, neither returning his blade nor dimming his magic. Even as the rude dwarf exited to call for the guards.

Only a few minutes later, the dwarf returned with three armed guards, but to Val's surprise, he recognized one of them.

"Captain Durnham?" Val asked with raised eyebrows.

"Heh, I figured this would happen." Durnham returned an amused smile.

"This man is not welcome here, remove him immediately!" The rude apprentice protested.

"Aye, calm down, off you go." Durnham shooed the rude apprentice away.

"Durimarr, it is good to see you. I'll escort Val off the premises, but are you sure you won't even consider his request? You are the only one on this side of the world who is qualified to do so."

Durimarr raised an eyebrow. "Curious that you would support him, but no, even if you ask, I will not touch that sword."

The sudden, approaching sound of flapping wings caught everyone's attention.

"Then what if the All-Father asks it of you?"