Rise of the Living Forge

Stone rippled along the ground and the walls trembled with delight. A deep thrum rolled through the smithy like an ocean wave and slammed into Arwin. It was at such a low tone that Arwin couldn’t even tell if he’d heard anything, but his teeth rattled in his mouth at its intensity.

He couldn’t even so much as stagger back. The maw of the Infernal Armory still held his arm firmly in place, growing steadily warmer to the touch.

Black light flared from the veins spread throughout the Infernal Armory. Cracks and groans filled the entire smithy and a biting pain bit into Arwin’s trapped arm as something carved into it. Something sharp or strong enough to get through [Indomitable Bulwark].

A second thrum tore through the building. The floor beneath Arwin bucked as a ripple passed beneath it and carried all the way to Wallace, sending the dwarf several stumbling backward amidst a slew of shocked curses.

“What are you doing?” Wallace demanded, planting his feet to keep his balance and raising his hammer before him.

The extruding portion of the wall that held the heart at the back of the smithy split down the center. It pulled apart like the eye of a lizard, revealing a teeming pitch-black mass of thin, ropey strands beneath the stone. They’d wrapped around themselves like a ball of tangled worms.

Three black strands ripped themselves free of the ball and burst out, flashing across the room in a split instant and slamming into Arwin’s captured shoulder. They burrowed into his skin and pulsated, sending ripples of energy running down their length and back into the mass in the wall.

What the fuck?

Arwin yanked on his arm. It was stuck fast. He drew on [Scourge], preparing to rip it free from the maw regardless of the consequence, when the stone petals pulled apart of their own volition and released him.

The heart beat again. Another tremor shook Arwin and this time he stumbled, nearly losing his balance. His head pounded violently. Stars and darkness flashed before his eyes as he reached for the black veins that the Infernal Armory had pierced him with.

“Finally. You took so long,” a whisper caressed Arwin’s ears like the hiss of a boiling tea kettle. Strands of red mist swirled up from the ground, out from between the cracks in the stone walls, and dripped from the ceiling above.

The mist gathered around him. It rolled out, fleeing to form footsteps tracing the path of an invisible form that stalked through it. The mist coiled to outline flickers of a hand or a leg in passing, but never caught for long enough to give more than a glimpse.

Wallace hadn’t made any moves yet, but he looked one small nudge away from preparing to fight. He stared right past, not having reacted to its arrival in the slightest.

“He can’t see me, Arwin,” the voice said, coming from behind Arwin. A faint force tightened around his left wrist, as if something were holding it. “Don’t pull those out. After all, you did just ask for this. It took a lot of energy to heed your bidding.”

“Who — no. I know who. You’re the Infernal Armory?” Arwin asked, his eyes widening as his grip slackened on the vein. “What do you mean I asked for this? I most certainly did not ask to get stabbed.”

“You plunged your hand into my mouth,” the voice said, a wave of lilting laughter rolling through the building and coiling around Arwin’s head as if it were circling him at the speed of an irate wasp. “Would you have preferred I take your hand instead?”

“Most certainly not,” Arwin admitted. He turned to try to follow the voice but promptly gave up when it became apparent it didn’t have any plans of staying in one place for long. “You… came to help me craft, then? It worked?”

“Don’t sound so surprised. Gather yourself. You’re wasting my energy, and I already have precious little of it. You are the hands. You must act.”

Arwin shoved his confusion away. He could worry about why a damn building was speaking to him in plain words later. Wallace watched Arwin from the corner of the room but, curiously, the dwarf hadn’t said another word.

Maybe this is somewhat normal with dwarven smiths.

“Right. No time to waste. I need to forge Mithril,” Arwin said, grabbing the pieces of metal with his un-stabbed arm and holding them out. “I was thinking—”

“I know what you were thinking. We are connected for a reason. I cannot be your tool if we are of separate minds,” the voice said. The veins connecting to the wall pulsed and a prickling sensation spread through Arwin’s body. “But your goal limits yourself.”

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“It does? I rather like it.”

“It can be so much more.” Mist blew past Arwin’s head like it had been caught in a breeze. It coiled over his shoulders and formed a cape behind him before a hand passed through it, destroying its form. “Do what you do best, Arwin. I will be what you need, and you will do what you do best. The world will mold to our desires.”

Arwin opened his mouth to ask what the voice meant, but he caught himself, surprised to realize that he actually knew the answer. A smile pulled across his lips as a new idea struck him.

“Any desires?”

“I do not have enough power for that — but I could. I need more to work with. More food, and more material.”

“Damn,” Arwin said. “I can’t get any more help right now. It’s just us.”

“Us is enough,” the voice whispered. “Have you forgotten about the gift the Mesh gave you? Use the Crag Lizard. I will consume it.”

Arwin hadn’t quite forgotten about the Crag Lizard, but he hadn’t summoned it yet because Lillia still had Wyrmling meat to go through and they didn’t have nearly enough ice boxes to save all of the meat.

That didn’t mean he was keen on using it now. If he fed it to the Infernal Armory, then Lillia would get nothing from their hard work.

“That’s unfair. I’m holding onto it for both of us. I can’t waste it all here.”

“I will leave more than enough. I just need the material,” the voice insisted, a note of urgency entering it. “I will leave half of the meat. Lillia could not possibly cook all of the meat from the Crag Lizard, even if she were to put it into ice boxes.”

Arwin hesitated for a moment longer. Then he nodded and set the metal down on the ground. “Fine. Open up. And remember to leave half, or I’m going to be damn pissed. I’m sure Lillia is nearly out of Wyrmling meat at this point anyway.”

He held a hand over the mouth of the Infernal Armory and sent a mental request to the Mesh.

[Overly Generous] – Awarded for stepping back and letting an ally take the challenge of killing an Overloaded Monster out of desire to see their growth. Power is often found whilst guiding others to it. Effects: A single delivery. This achievement will be consumed upon your mental request.

Power flared around Arwin’s palm. The Infernal Armory’s maw shot up and closed around it, and a series of loud crunches filled the air. Energy raced down the black veins and the mass in the wall shuddered.

A hiss of pain slipped from Arwin’s lips as the veins connected to his body brightened as well. His skull throbbed and his ears pounded with his heartbeat. Magic poured into his body to fill every muscle to the brim. The red smoke dancing around him grew thicker, and knowledge of exactly what it could do flooded into Arwin’s mind as if he’d always known it.

“Yes. This is our power,” the voice wasn’t whispering anymore. Excitement dripped from its words like a rushing river. “The world will be unmade and reshaped in the image we desire.”

“Give me an anvil,” Arwin growled.

Red mist poured into the stone ground. A tremor shook it as a spike of gray metal jutted up from the ground, expanding as it rose. It folded itself down, transforming into an anvil nearly twice the size of the old, beaten up one he’d had before the smithy had eaten it.

“Scales,” Arwin said.

Two tendrils extended from the mass in the wall. A piece of stone to their side slid open to reveal a pile of huge Crag Lizard scale pieces. The tendrils wrapped around the scales and brought them to the anvil before Arwin. They were easily each several inches thick. The monster’s armor had been incredible. He never would have been able to forge anything like this. Not normally.

Arwin flexed his hand. Verdant Inferno formed in his hands and the veins connected to his shoulder pulsed, pushing even more magical energy into his body. He was practically brimming with it — but the power wasn’t his. He couldn’t feel or interact with the it any more than he could with the magic filling a random monster.

“I’ll go with your suggestion,” Arwin said as he drew deeply on [Scourge], sending the energy flooding into his arms. “I’ll do what I do best. Hit shit hard — but I’m going to need a bigger hammer.”

Stone cracked around Arwin’s feet. Strands of metal raced up his body and twisted around Verdant Inferno’s hilt, cementing themselves around both his hands and the weapon. Black veins leapt from the wall and slammed into the back of the hammer, connecting it with the smithy. It rapidly grew denser, becoming so heavy that he couldn’t have even lifted it without [Scourge].

The veins connected to the hammer lit with burning light as lava raced through them and pumped into the casing covering Verdant Inferno. More red mist sank into the ground and strands of metal rose up, slamming into Arwin’s back one by one to act as supports and counter the hammer’s immense mass.

Arwin bared his teeth in a mixture of a snarl and a grin. Then, with a roar, he heaved Verdant Blaze into motion. It rose laboriously into the air and hung at its apogee like it bore the weight of a mountain suspended in the sky. Then it pitched forward.

The hammer plummeted down with far more speed than Arwin ever could have mustered on his own. It slammed into the scales with a resounding crash and a shockwave ripped out from the anvil, dust swirling back and tiny pieces of rubble pattering into the walls.

Mist sank into the ground and stone pillars rose up. They moved with unerring fluidity, sliding to bracing against the front of the hammer and lifting it into the air in conjunction with Arwin. They then sank back down as if they’d never been there.

The scales had partially warped together. A haze of heat wavered and danced around them and the acrid scent of hot metal and stone filled the air.

Wallace let a murmured curse slip from his lips, taking a step back as he stared at Arwin with wide, disbelieving eyes, unable to manage a proper sentence.

“You’re not spent, are you?” the voice whispered. Black veins weaved in and out between the walls, snakes swimming through a sea of stone. “We can do so much more than that.”

“Oh, no.” Arwin’s grip on Verdant Inferno’s hilt tightened. “We’ve only gotten started.”