Chapter 4-98: A Forging We Will Go... (1/2)

The other apprentices and journeymen showed up on time, sighing when they once again saw their master and Sama there before them, and bustled around opening things up for business. There were multiple things to work on at any given time, one thing being heated while another was being hammered, one thing poured into molds while other things were cooling fast or slow. The apprentices wasted no time, moving with practiced motion and ease in their morning tradition, calling out in their genetic tongue, confirming the work schedule for today once again, and placing things where they needed to be handy when it was time to shift from one item to the next.

While there was mass production around, nobody with any money wanted something stamped out in a factory. The magic of a craftsman was a thing that didn’t carry through on machinery. While ‘functional’ QL and technology level could be high for, say, a pot or pan people picked up at the store, from a magical standpoint such things were dross scrap and useless for enchanting.

QL was QL. Machines could make high QL stuff very easily, but none of it could be improved magically, limiting it to pure tech use. A craftsman who could make high QL stuff was making stuff at least as good as the machine, but suffused with the power of a maker; magic could then grab hold and make it perform beyond its means.

Few dwarves were actually spellcasters, as the only Tradition open to them was Divine Magic, and they didn’t all get Called to serve. Their natural resonance with Earth made them very resistant to magic and poison, but also made almost all other forms of magic impossible for them to wield.

That said, they took to Artificing with marvelous ease, and their Runecrafting basically set the standard for all other races. Doing with Crafting alone what the Powered did with spells, dwarves had no problems churning out things in metal and stone with magic minor and mighty, as their clients demanded.

“What are you working on today, Sama?” asked Mord Blakhamar, by far the biggest fellow in the place. He was a dhatun, a half-dwarf, and stood a head taller than the other apprentices, while being just as stout and burly. His beard was short, but black as ink, considered very fetching among the dwarves, and he was nearly as strong as Master Vrune, despite his youth.

His father had died in service to his country against a fey outbreak somewhere, and his mother was killed in a race riot when he was a child. He had been adopted by Hank Blakhamar, a builder and construction expert who was a pillar of the dwarven community here. Hank had opened his hearth and home to orphans of all the new races. Sama knew he had a dozen adoptees living around or with him right now, and at least another dozen in other places, in addition to having six kids of his own. Needless to say, he had a big house.

“A Katana, of all things.” The Japanese swords had much less mystique in this world than the former, as the martial traditions of the Seven Dragons tended to favor straight swords, and the Katana was just a modified saber that needed a new hilt design, in the end. Sama just shrugged, as the buyer had been very firm in what he wanted.

“One of those samurai swords?” Mord asked, fishing, and she handed over the commission slip before he could ask. His dark eyes devoured the technical terms for the request, visualizing the final product. The long list of terms in Denthek completely summarized the Sword’s design in everything from length and weight to curvature and coloration.

“He’s paying for a full Zvei?” Mord whistled softly, sneaking a glance over his shoulder.

“Shoo. Start on those bellows,” Sama replied. Chagrinned, Mord hurried off to start working the fires to the main forge, which would soon fill the center of the room with incandescent flame.

She noted they were refining at least nine ingots today, probably for other smiths living nearby who wanted the superior metal to work with. It looked like a long tree-saw, with adamantine teeth, was on the docket, too, and a couple of gleaming picks. There weren’t a lot of smiths around who could work in adamantine, but Master Vrune was one of them, and favored making tools over foppish commission jobs.

Sama turned back to her own Floating Forge and Anvil of Silent Thunder, set off in a corner and out of the way of the dwarves. The central forge in this room was also a Crafting Forge, and more powerful than her own... but it didn’t float around, either. The fact she had her own forging equipment and didn’t need to borrow his was a big reason why he agreed to let her smith out of his shop.

That, and her cranking out QL 26 to 33 Swords of all shapes and sizes as fast as any dwarf.

Crafting was immersive, calming, a therapeutic way to spend her time releasing violent impulses... and most importantly, every gp in crafting earned a point of Karma, so it was slow, steady progress towards her goal of Leveling.

It could make good money, too, if someone bought your stuff.

The Freemasons had set the standard for pricing magical items at approximately twice the amount of goldweight it took a Powered to make the thing, compensating the Powered for their time, investment, and the bit of their soul it took to bind the magic to an item.

Of course, that was only a guideline. There were Artificers who could produce magic items cheaper, and the dwarves certainly could do so with their Runecrafting, but that was the average price.

Anything above QL 33, and certainly anything with IV’s attached, could go for much, much more. The number of items put up for sale with V’s was non-existent... only a few rare halvyr had reached that level, and they didn’t spend time Crafting for money, to the dismay of many wealthy people. Anything they Crafted was for themselves or close associates... unless enough money was offered for them to make something specific, and they might accept.

In any event, such things never made it to the public, and because of the time commitment in making something permanent at that level, were likely to be consumables or low-use items, anyways. Even a 1/day Teleport item was nine days of Infusing, and who wanted to spend that for someone else very often? Take your nine goldweight of profit and live high on the hog for a while...

Or, you know, turn around and invest it into your own Gear.

The limitation on all this was naturally her own Crafting skill.