Diggy Diggy Hole Chapter 13

The trip to the archery range went as well as it frankly could have. 

The crossbow I showed off did exactly what I said it would do. And my dwarven style crossbow was much... Much better than the crossbows these Umgi's used, and the armor they put on the stick mannequin to simulate a target was a true example of shoddy Umgi work.

So with that all done, Yang Xioloni said he was going to bring me to the 'lord' who would decide to sponsor me as my work was entirely beyond his scope of sponsoring. As he said it rather bluntly, that when the noble families heard about my treasures, they would pressure him to put me out on the street so they could make an attempt.

So who did Yang Xioloni take me to, that none of the dragon blooded generals or the up-jumped umgi nobles of the city of Nan-Gau could mess with? That was all too simple.

"Introducing Kharn of Clan Barruk, a prodigy Runesmith of his people seeking shelter under the gaze of the great Castellan of Nan-Gau!" The introducer spoke in Dawi for my sake even if I understood the common Umgi tongue.

Then the servant clearly in charge of introducing the dragon woman took a deep breath and spoke grandly. "Oh the Master of the Storm Winds! Guardian of the Great Bastion! Slayer of uncountable demons! Supreme Matriach of Nan-Gau! Ruler of the Northern Provinces! This dwarf wishes to bring his craft and with great skill to arm your troops in return for sponsorship!"

During all this grandstanding, Miao Ying, the Storm Dragon sat regally in her raised throne that allowed her to look down at me while she worked on some paperwork. Finally with the introducer done with his grand message and introduction. Miao Ying just waved her hand aside.

Her voice was aloof and cold, and she spoke in a zero-nonsense tone. "You are far from your land, young dwarf. Probably from a clan near the Empire of Man correct?"

At my silent nod she continued. "You have come far, then indeed. Tell me, why break your dwarven traditions that are ingrained in your bones to come here? Where are the Dawi so rare?" 

I took a deep breath and I spoke in no uncertain terms. "I am the most talented Runesmith in... Millennia, naught but in my teen years to the human's point of view. And I have surpassed smiths with dozens of years of experience to say nothing of my ability as a Runesmith which is a fading art to my people."

Miao Ying only raised an eyebrow as I continued. "If I went to another clan, they would happily accept me, and would undoubtedly respect me a great deal. But I have a blood debt with the Thaggoraki, the skaven who wiped out my clan. And the clan I join likely wouldn't go to war for my own blood debt when they likely have their own issues." 

There was a pause as Miao Ying stared at me before she raised an eyebrow and spoke blandly. "You would offer arms and armor for what? An army to slay the destroyer's of your people? We aren't even kin, why should I get involved?"

I stood stiff and I replied with tension in my voice.

"I do not want men of flesh and blood. My kin with bones of stone, and blood filled with fury fell to the unending hordes of the rat-men... Give me menial men so that I may work machines of war, men of iron to stomp and tear demons and monsters apart. And I will give you ninety percent of all I create in return for you supplying the land, men, and resources." 

My cheat was that I ran partly off some Minecraft logic in my crafting along with having a bare bones gamer system. So combined with my skills as a dwarven smith and knowing the animation and machine Runes. I was fully able to make the dwarven automatons of Skyrim and the Elder Scrolls universe.

I wasn't going to fuck with the Skaven... Watch as I recreate the Numidium. the Brass God, the Walking Tower. A thousand meter tall construct of alloyed brass that would be a magical black hole so that no foul magics nor demons could touch it.

To say nothing of the legions of Centurions and Colossi to say nothing of the lesser machines of war and production I can create.

The silence as I thought of the future was cut off as Miao Ying's cold countenance became a slight glare. "You promise much, young dwarf. What is your word worth when I have no clue as to how to control these machines of war? Nor would my men."

I nodded as that was a fair point and I spoke bluntly. "I will create control rods so that the rods will take the will of the user and relay the orders of the user to the legion assigned to that control rod." 

Miao Ying leaned back slightly in her throne with her pointed finger nails making clicking noises as she tapped on the arm of her throne's platinum arm rest.

Finally after a moment, she spoke bluntly. "You will need to earn my trust and favor, young dwarf... For your clear age makes me hesitant to trust you even with your skill. I will give you resources, I will lease a shop for you, and in turn you are commissioned to make twenty of those enchanted crossbows with each new moon."

She took a breath and then with a slightly more measured tone, she finished saying. "Prove your works mastery in the coming... four months, let's say. And by the deep winter of this year. I will triple the resources I give you, and we will properly negotiate your value to my never-ending war effort."

I was silent for a moment before I bowed my head uncaring of my dawi pride as right now... I needed a hand to get my workshop created. Then in but a couple of months I would have all the resources I could use when I show off a dozen dwarven Centurions.

"I agree to this deal," I said firmly with no regret and Miao Ying nodded, waving her hand to another servant who said.

"Send this dwarf to one of the guest inns back in the city." Then she looked at me and said. "In a couple of day's when a workshop is found, you will be escorted to it, and in that time. Write down anything you truly do need for your workshop that you cannot recreate." 

With that, the servant she pointed out that was off to the side, led me out of Miao Ying the legendary immortal storm dragon's office with the heavy doors behind me closing with a loud clatter.