CC 11: Thunderplump ~ Two!

Sparks flew off of the glowing pool of aspects as Joe brought his ingot hammer down, shaping the raw energy into yet another Ebonsteel mug. A few careful hits later, the shining material solidified into a room temperature metal coffee mug studded with jewels. The Ritualist grunted as he tossed the finished product to the side, where it clattered into a haphazard pile of mugs exactly like it.

As he wiped his forehead, more out of reflex than anything, Joe looked around in disgruntlement. “He's late. Why’s everyone late these days? We live in a wasteland, where staying outside for any length of time means freezing into a block of ice. There's practically no luxuries at all, since Havoc won't let me make personal homes or even apartments yet. So why, oh why, does everyone still find a way to be late?”

Just as he finished grumbling, the Dwarven Expert smith Joe had managed to hire, Growmore, threw the door open; carefully walking in as if he’d fallen off a high place and landed squarely on his rear. He noticed Joe's stare and shook his head slightly, “Sorry I’m running behind, lad. It's the end of the quarter, if ya know what I mean.”

Joe took a deep breath, ready to explain that, in fact, he had no idea what the Dwarf was talking about. He paused as he noticed all of the other metalworkers looking at his teacher and wincing in sympathy. Instead of his planned biting retort, the Ritualist managed a simple question, “I actually don't know what you mean, would you mind… telling me?”

He’d trailed off somewhat during his sentence because of all of the jaws dropping and eyes widening, as everyone in the area looked at him completely aghast. Somehow, he’d broken a cultural taboo, and he had no idea how. The smith stared at him as well, before coughing into his hand and sending a meaningful glance around the room. Then he drew close to Joe, “You understand what it means to have high Characteristics, at least somewhat. Let's draw this out so you get to feel as awkward as I do right now. What does a very high Constitution do for you?”

“That’s… a lot of things. You can resist poisons better, you can go longer without eating, you don't get sick as often.” Joe paused, hoping he’d hit the nail on the head, but now the smith was grinning and motioned for him to go on. “I don't know, lots of that stuff?”

“Yeah, pretty much. An easier way to describe it would be to say that you’re able to put off a lot of your bodily functions for a long period of time.” The Dwarf raised a frizzled eyebrow, waiting to see the moment of realization dawn on the Ritualist. Slowly the grin faded, and he tried a different tactic. “You can put off lots of bodily functions. You’re resistant to poisons. That doesn't mean you can ignore those things. At least, not for longer than about three months, also known as a quarter.”

“Are you telling me that you haven't taken a poo-”

“Three months, yeah.” The smith clapped Joe on the shoulder as he walked past him to the forge. “We all appreciate the automatic destruction of that poison. Good job on your magical latrine, you're saving the environment and definitely doing the Celestials’ own work.”

It took a moment for Joe to comprehend what was being told to him, then his eyes narrowed. “It’s not a toilet! Do you mean to tell me that everyone has been using the Aspect tower-?”

“Do you want an answer to that, or do you want to learn better forging techniques?”

The Dwarf had a perfectly valid point, and Joe decided that he was done asking questions about anything unrelated to the craft… after just one last question. “Do you know what rank of materials that would be considered? Three months, so Uncommon at least?”

That had the entire smithy laughing, and Joe and his instructor dived into the work. Over the next several hours, they worked on various hammering techniques, folding metals, and the heat of the air that had to be held when working with higher-rarity materials. The air of the forge was thick with smoke, filled with the pungent scent of molten metal and burning materials. Every once in a while someone would break into a string of curses as the building forcefully reverted their finished product back into liquid, followed by a round of jeering from the others.

At the center of the building was Joe, his face illuminated by the intense light coming not only from the furnace, but his own particular crafting material. Beads of sweat were collecting on his shiny head, only to be swept away by his near-passive spells. Thanks to his magic keeping him comfortable as he worked, Joe was able to lend his full attention to every movement of his body.

Each strike was careful, purposeful, calculated, and often accompanied by a gruff instruction from Growmore. The deep-set eyes were staring at Joe’s project, less than an inch away from where the hammer landed multiple times a second. The Dwarf had witnessed countless failures and multitudes of finished products, and every minute of his time was extremely valuable. So, each time a ‘more force’, or ‘watch that angle’, or any other seemingly offhand comment tumbled from the bearded mouth, Joe tried to redouble his focus on the area that had been found lacking.

Today's efforts were particularly challenging, as Joe was working from a template that was right on the edge of both his skill level, and barely falling within the purview of Ritualistic Forging. An athame was one of the few blades that also had effects on rituals, and even if Joe didn’t need it for his personal crafts, it was something that would be extremely useful for the coven of Ritualists that he had made a sign-up sheet for and posted in the Town Hall.

Far too many rituals required various sacrifices—either of blood, materials, or creatures—depending on how dark or potent the final effect was. Every time he ran into one of the darker ones, Joe was reminded of how happy and pleased he was with his choice of specialization. The option to avoid the messy reagents that his class typically required was a massive boon on its own. Then there was the ability to perfectly add singular aspects at a time, allowing him a level of control and finesse that others could only dream of. Hence, his current project.

Some people are Reductionists. For everyone else, there was an athame.

If Joe understood the tool correctly, the small blade would allow for careful partitioning of all sorts of finicky materials, instant coup de gras for living sacrifices—even if the Ritualist using it didn’t hit a critical area—and could even be used as a weapon in a pinch. The major downside was the fact that creating the athame required a Student rank in Ritualistic Forging, or Journeyman rank in a general forging skill. That made low level Ritualists terribly dependent on outside classes; yet another barrier to entry for the extremely difficult-to-practice class.

Joe made a silent vow to give one of these to anyone who joined his coven as a present. Hopefully he’d be able to make it a tradition that inducting someone else into the class came with a gift like this. “Huh. You know, maybe that's where basic class gear originally came from.”

“If you have time to daydream, you have time to heat the metal there, and cool the air around it with this fan.” Growmore barked at the Ritualist, who snapped his mouth shut and started pounding harder.

Ritualistic Forging was proving to be an incredibly stubborn skill to improve, seemingly resisting him at every turn. The aspects would bend in ways he hadn't expected mid-strike, or simply refuse to take the shape he was attempting. Still, every failure only made him more determined to master this craft. At the very least, he needed a high-Journeyman level skill so that he could attempt to create Jotunheim Alloy. The alloy was the only Expert-ranked metal Joe had access to creating at the moment, but he was simply not skillful enough to actually create it.

“Gotta get my forging up to Journeyman, so I have a chance at making Expert metal, so that I can write out a ritual on it.” Joe let out an annoyed huff of air, “It's never just one thing I have to do, is it?”

As soon as the allotted time that Joe had paid for was up, several hours and a multitude of attempts later, Growmore snatched the most recently-completed blade out of Joe's hands and critically gazed at it, flipping it over and inspecting it from every angle. “It's a pile of feces, but at least you don't stink as bad at forging as you did at the start of the day. A few more decades of dedication, and you might even be good at this. Remember, it's not just about hitting your metal until it's in the right shape. It's about understanding it, feeling it respond to you, and reciprocating those feelings.”

“Intent matters.” Joe nodded in understanding, speaking aloud the phrase he was trying to use at least twice a day when crafting. “I could really feel it today; how it was messing with me. I think that once I'm past this bottleneck, I'll have a much easier time of it.”

“Mmm.” Growmore grunted at him, tossing the knife back and offering a rare word of encouragement. “Mastering a craft is just like going for a long, long run. You start out fast, gaining quick levels and advancing rapidly. This isn’t always a positive. Usually, it's actually setting you up for failure. Ninety percent of all metalworking aspirants reach the Beginner rank and fall off, deciding to go with a different profession for whatever reason. At the Beginner levels, all the way until you’re a Journeyman, continuing to learn is like running on a slow incline. It's difficult, and you can't see much progress.”

“But then you get to the top of the hill, look back and see how far you've really gone? You get motivated again?” Joe’s hopeful question made the instructor let out a bark of laughter.

“Don't put words in my mouth, Student Ritualistic Forger.” Growmore walked away without clarifying further, much to Joe’s annoyance.

Congratulations! Personal instruction under an Expert of the craft has taught you well! Ritualistic Forging (Student V → Student VII).

“Welp. Thanks for helping me grow more.” Joe grabbed the filthy towel the Dwarf whipped at him as retaliation, waited for his Neutrality Aura to clean it, then rubbed his face vigorously to try and scrub the tiredness from his eyes. He’d been in this furnace of a building for the last half of a day, at the minimum, and was ready for a change of pace. Tossing the towel back onto the rack, Joe stepped outside in preparation of going on a stroll and inspecting the defenses.

His ears twitched as the clanging of the forge was replaced by a gentle rustling sound. He turned and saw Daniella sitting at a small table just behind the entrance of the forge, her delicate features completely out of place in Joe’s mind after having been surrounded by hairy, grimy, cussing Dwarves for hours. He waved to get her attention, and she perked up, grabbed a roll of papers, and rushed toward him.

“Are you finished for the day? In there, at least? I can't bring these in, they’re too valuable, and I'm sure a hot coal would ‘accidentally’ land on one of them.” She pulled one of the scrolls open, giving Joe a glimpse of a type of structure he’d never seen before. “I have no idea why they don't even want access to Elven buildings. They'll be able to have all the benefits of their work, even without having to deal with any of the Theocrats!”

The Ritualist could only chuckle as she puffed out her cheeks and ranted, motioning for her to join him on his walk. At first, the icy evening air was refreshing, but it only took half a minute for the first chilled debuff to appear, and Joe started directing their meandering walk in the direction of the walls. “What’s on your mind, Daniella?”

“I want to petition the council for a workspace, so that we can start having proper ranged weapons out there.” She motioned in the direction they were walking, and Joe nodded for her to continue. “Almost everyone that has abandoned the Theocracy came here without their weapons, since they were confiscated by the Elves when they became prisoners of war. For everyone else that's trickling in just because they want a change of pace, there's nowhere to repair their weapons. This is a specialized Bowyer workshop, and using it will get us ranged weapons on par with Elven Warbows.”

Joe let out a low whistle, looking closer at the blueprint she was offering. “You’ve someone that can make them?”

“There's a couple.” She answered somewhat evasively, making Joe raise an eyebrow at her. “They would need special dispensation, since they’re out in the first suburb still.”

“That'll be a hard sell.” The Ritualist shrugged, knowing he could probably pull enough strings to make it happen. “What's the other one?”

With a twinkle in her eye, Daniella waved the other scroll at him, “Oh, this little thing? It's just an elemental playground. If built correctly, it’ll attract elementals, which all sorts of different magical classes can tame or bind.”

“Ambitious.” Although Joe's answer was short, it was due to his interest and thinking about how he could present these options to the council. “I'm guessing there’s a reason that the Dwarves don't have something like this already?”

Daniella nodded, her face serious but a smile playing around her lips. “The Bowyer requires a specific type of cleric treated wood, while the playground requires environments for each of the elementals you wish to entice. This should go without saying, but I'm betting there will be a ton of frost elementals available, and that they’ll be perfectly useless against the enemies here.”

She pulled the scroll away with a wry smile and an arched eyebrow, and only then did Joe realize that his fingers were closing on empty air. “My goal with all of this is to start getting some hefty contracts from the council. But I clearly know what to show off to get people interested enough to see what else I have to offer.”

He flushed slightly as he realized that he’d just tried to grab her scroll and start studying it without permission, then caught his breath as her final words made his heart race. “Ahem. Sorry about that. Yeah, let's give it a whirl. It might not work, but if it does, not only will we be able to use the Elves' specialties to make ourselves prosper, but it will be an interesting step forward in the variety of buildings our Town has. That can only be good, right?”

“My thoughts exactly. They’ll definitely go for it.”