I watched as Pa dissected the three gemmed Shardfang carcasses we'd brought back. He’d insisted on doing so before elaborating on any ‘goodies’ for us. Not like I minded,

  There was a certain comfort in watching him methodically slicing through the hide, allowing my head to spin and process what had just happened with Nabeeh. We’d screwed up with her, and I just hoped that I would get a chance to make things right again.

  Knut leaned against the wall nearby, arms crossed over his chest, and staring at Pa’s work with interest.

  "There we go," Pa murmured, his eyes lighting up as he extracted a beautiful jewel from somewhere inside the Shardfang’s chest. “Mind gem. First one."

  "Roq strikes again,” I said.

  "When have I ever steered you wrong about gems?” Roq said. “It’s what I’m best at. Aside from killing things. And being just plain awesome!”

  “That you are, buddy. Just hadn’t thought of us taking the carcasses with gems as stealing from the other adventurers.”

  Pa set the gem aside and continued, extracting three gems from the three carcasses.

  "And now for the main event!” he said, gesturing to the Platemaw carcass with a big smile, circling the huge beast and even rubbing his hand with anticipation. He was like a little kid presented with a birthday cake.

  "Beautiful specimen," he said, running his hands over the armored plates. "Even better than the last one. The armor's thicker here, see?" Then he tapped a section near its shoulder. "And these ridges are perfect for deflecting blows. Much better specimen than the first one you brought home. How interesting."

  "Glad you like it," I said, smiling at his enthusiasm.

  Pa then dug into the Platemaw, carefully rooting around inside, muttering to himself, until he pulled out another mind gem.

  "Would you look at that," he said, holding up the jewel. “I know they’re all supposed to be similar, but I swear this one’s especially gorgeous.”

  “Bigger monster, prettier gem?" Knut asked, stepping closer to examine it.

  Pa chuckled.

  “Not exactly. More like a bigger monster is more fun!”

  He handed all four gems to me, and I tucked them into my pouch.

  "Thanks, Pa."

  “Welcome. And thank you for bringing me so much great material to work with.”

  He ran a hand across the Platemaw’s forehead, and gave it a look that would have Ma insisting he’d store the carcass outside.

  “But!” Pa said, rubbing his hands together again. “I’ve had time to study all the carcasses you brought back from the dungeon. Let me show you something.”

  He’d already dissected them all when we returned, pulling out twenty-two mind gems from the carcasses Eryn, Knut, and I brought back, plus another two from the carcasses we got from Benedict.

  Pa pulled out the first monster from our dungeon run, and laid it out on his workbench.

  “The brambleback," he said, running his calloused hands over the four-legged, heavily plated monster with its distinctive hammer-like claws. “The plating on their front is nearly as tough as the Platemaw. See how it overlaps here, but interlocks there?" He tapped the plates, producing a sound like muted bells. "Could forge these into segmented pauldrons that’ll move with you instead of restricting motion."

  "What about the tensile strength?" I asked. “Wade shot a crossbow straight through one.”

  “Big crossbow,” Knut said.

  “True, but I’m not sure it’d pierce the Platemaw. Are you?”

  The northerner shrugged, acceding the point.

  Pa gave me that familiar look, the one that meant I was about to get a lesson.

  "Not if we temper them properly, son. Heat them slow before quenching in rendered troll fat. Keeps the flexibility while hardening the surface. The coating would do wonders. Trust me."

  "He's right about the tempering," Roq chimed in, "But tell him to add crushed dust from the Crystalkin to the troll fat. After it’s been rendered, obviously.”

  “Which Crystalkin?”

  “Any will do. But make sure its from their chest. Done right it should create a resonance to help disperses the impact."

  I relayed Roq's suggestion, earning a thoughtful stroke of Pa's beard.

  "Interesting theory. Never tried that. Might work, but might also be a waste of material." He shrugged. “Small scale test it is.”

  “Also hammer?” Knut asked, hefting one of the massive forelimbs. “Hits hard.”

  I smiled, remembering the hammering he’d taken at its hand, but Pa snorted.

  “Not after removing them from the muscle. As a standalone striking tool it’d shatter on first impact with the anvil."

  “With a Shardfang bone core?” Knut countered. “Northern smith use.”

  “But we’re not in the north, are we?” Pa said. “And they don’t have access to steelhusk. No, it won’t be worth the material. Too much work for too little reward. But these Tangle-Elk?” Pa continued, swapping carcasses and deliberately changing the subject. "These antlers are incredibly flexible and strong." He bent a prong on the edge of the table, putting nearly his entire weight on it. When he released, it sprang back. "Most bowyers would just cut these into strips for bow limbs, but it’d be a waste."

  “What would you do differently?" I asked. “And just how exactly do you know better than the bowyers?”

  “First, they should be sliced lengthwise and laminated with alternating grain in layers." Pa's hands moved as if already working on the monster parts. "Creates tension and compression forces that work together instead of fighting each other. Could make a bow that pulls twice the weight at half the size. And as to how I know, ye of little faith, you might not remember, considering you were but a pup, and still are, mind you, but I did a couple of projects with a travelling bowyer in Milltown.”

  Knut looked skeptical.

  “Travelling? Not good enough for shop?”

  “Wrong. He was the best. So good he could get any commission he wanted. But he didn’t want a shop and a stable life. No, he wanted to travel, see the world, and craft with the most unique monster materials there are.” Pa smiled to himself and sighed. “Invited me to come, but I’d met Ma by then and I wouldn’t trade no amount of new horizons for waking up to her every morning.”

  “Think we could get him to make a bow for Eryn?” I asked.

  Pa paused, frowning.

  “No idea where he is, but, maybe? If we have something he hasn’t forged before. He’d do it for free then. But if not, I doubt he’d make his way here, even if we offered a dozen mind gems.”

  “Arclight?” I said.

  “Are you crazy?” Pa hissed. “You think I’ll let some bowyer come here and work on such a unique monster?”

  “But you just said—”

  “I know what I said. Forget it. Not before I’ve dissected it. Then we can talk about getting in touch with him. Maybe.”

  I shrugged. Pa was proud if nothing else, and I couldn’t be bothered trying to convince him.

  “What’s next then?”

  “Gloomstalks. Feel this fur, Knut,” Pa said. “It's like touching the softest grass."

  “Looks to be enough for a pillow.”

  “You just got a satin one!”

  “Can never have too many cushions. Besides, this one would absorb sound, making it less noisy here when you move around with a lot of crap in your spatial storage.”

  Knut stepped forward, stroking the green fur.

  "Strange. Warm but… empty?”

  “Absorbs sound,” I said, relaying what Roq was telling me. “Could be good for stealth gear. If we ever decide to not have you walk around banging shield and weapon together.”

  “What exactly does it look like in the storage?”

  “You don’t want to know. Just get me more pillows. See if they stack.”

  “A pair of shoes with these would indeed be interesting for clandestine night time activities,” Pa said with a wink. "Not that I'd encourage such things."

  "The fur works better if you don't tan it conventionally," Roq advised. "Tell him to use cold-smoking instead."

  When I shared this, Pa scoffed.

  "Your hammer thinks it knows leatherworking now, too? Cold-smoking would preserve the sound-absorbing properties but make the leather brittle as old parchment."

  “Counteract it with oil from the Mossback boars. I can tell from their smell.”

  I relayed that, too.

  "And I say that would ruin the look and smell like a swamp," Pa retorted. “What’s the point of not being seen if everything and its grandma can smell you a mile away? Maybe I could use a light alum pickle if Victor has any. It might still break.”

  Knut chuckled at our back-and-forth.

  “Sound like brothers arguing how best roast direboar."

  Pa smiled and swiped away the gloomstalk, replacing it with one of the Mossback Boars.

  "Speaking of barbecue, these tusks can be carved into knife handles that never slip, even when wet." He ran his hand along the spiked moss growths. "And these aren't just plants. They're part of the creature, hardened like bone but flexible."

  "Could reinforce leather armor at key points," I suggested.

  “No. Better idea. Set in wooden shield," Knut offered. “Avoid shield shattering. Take many blows better.”

  Pa nodded appreciatively.

  "Good thinking. We could set them between layers of hardwood, create a shield that flexes instead of breaks."

  This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

  “Though I despise letting material out of our smithy, you could sell the growths to the alchemist. You don’t need it, as I’m better than any healer, magical or not, but the others?”

  "Roq says the moss has healing properties if prepared correctly," I said.

  "Indeed?" Pa's eyebrows shot up. “I’ll swear Victor to secrecy and trade him some.”

  We moved to the Moss Troll, which wouldn’t fit on the table, and Pa just plopped it onto the floor. It was missing a huge chunk of skin from its chest.

  "Look at the density of these muscles," Pa said, prodding an arm with his knife. "And the skin is already tough as tanned leather."

  “Excellent armor," Knut suggested, poking the tough hide with a finger.

  “I enjoyed bashing its skull in. Do you remember the color of its brains?”

  “Only too well.”

  “Delicious.”

  "Better than excellent," Pa agreed. "Trollhide is rare, but I’ve heard it is resistant to both acid, lightning, and cold. Fire’ll get through like nothing’s business, but that’s the tradeoff.”

  “Cure with saltpeter," Knut said. “Or regenerate. Stink like troll arse.”

  Pa looked affronted.

  "You think I don't know how to cure trollhide? Been doing it since before you were swinging wooden swords, boy."

  “Honest talk,” Knut raised his hands defensively, “Saw bad trollhide crawl off man's back mid battle."

  "That's because whoever made it was a hack," Pa muttered. "Proper trollhide needs three treatments—saltpeter, then alum, then smoke-curing over birch wood.”

  "What about the Ruptureborn?" I said, to get them moving.

  “Wasn’t quite done with the troll, but fine. I’m nothing if not flexible,” Pa said, storing the troll and swiping out the sinewy creature with scythe-like arms.

  “Big storage,” Knut said, nodding at Pa’s tattoo.

  “Both the missus and me upgraded to ten slots ages ago. Before Ash started working on becoming an adventurer.”

  “Investment,” Knut said.

  “Yup,” Pa replied, carefully extending one of the blade-like appendages. "These are sharper than a divorcee’s tongue, but brittle. Could be used for stabbing short swords, but…”

  "The edge geometry is all wrong for a sword," Roq said. "Better for slashing than a hacking weapon. A glaive, perhaps."

  When I shared this, Pa looked thoughtful.

  “Roq ain’t wrong. Would shatter against any decent plate, but mounted on a longer haft, and with the proper angle of attack--" He mimed a sweeping cut. "Could slice through chain links like butter."

  “Or, if folded and hammered together, it could work as an axe. Difficult, but possible.”

  “Let’s see.”

  “Beetle-things and creepy-crawlers?" Knut asked.

  "Rotmasks and Riftcrowns," I said, smiling, and the big man gave a demonstrative shiver.

  “Yuckies.”

  Pa put one of each out on the workbench, and pointed to the pig-sized beetle with a wolf-like head. “Rotmask carapace makes excellent armor inserts. They are lightweight but tough."

  “Cold cracks,” Knut said.

  “Because you northerners don't know how to treat it properly," Pa replied. “Need to boil it in resin first, then shape it while it's still pliable. Besides, ain’t exactly the coldest winter here.”

  “True,” Knut said.

  I nodded to the Riftcrown.

  “Eryn told me Victor’s looking to buy as many of these little buggers as he can. That little sac right there is supposedly useful.” I pointed at what passed for its neck.

  “About useful,” Knut said. “I love axes.” He crossed his arms and stared at us.

  “I knew he was a traitor! Bastard shows his true colors! Kick him in the shin, quick. Before the idea settles.”

  I shared a glance with Pa.

  “And?”

  “Hafts break.” Knut nodded.

  “That is an issue with axes,” Pa said, slowly.

  “Fix?” Knut asked.

  Pa nodded to himself, muttering a bit, before saying, “I understand.”

  “Understand what?” I asked.

  “Knut wants me to make him a battle-axe whose haft won’t break in battle.”

  “Impossible,” Knut said.

  “Bah,” Pa said. “Nothing’s impossible, except keeping Ma from fussing over you lot. She worries, is what she does."

  Knut looked at him doubtfully.

  "I'll make you a battleaxe with an unbreakable haft. It might dent and chip and bend, but if it breaks? I’ll… I'll shave my beard!"

  Knut's eyes widened at the stakes.

  “Beard? Very serious."

  He spit in his hand and held it out. Pa did likewise, and the bet was sealed.

  Roq sighed.

  “Damn. I can’t believe I have to forge an axe. It goes against everything I stand for.”

  “Why would you have to forge it?”

  “Unbreakable? Pa’s beard on the line? Hello? No way we’re putting our reputation on the line and using any old hammer to do the forging. This has me written all over it.”

  "I'm thinking," Pa said, already sketching in the air with his fingers, "Platemaw thigh bone for the core of the haft. It has natural flex but incredible strength. Then we wrap it in Shardfang sinew for shock absorption."

  “Sinew stretches," Knut said.

  “Stop second guessing me,” Pa mock growled, though I knew he relished the chance to show off his knowledge. “I’ll soak it in fat mixed with resin, then dry it slowly over a week. Creates a material harder than horn but with just enough give."

  "The bone core would work better if you hollow it and fill it with Ruptureborn marrow," Roq said, sighing dramatically, but I could hear the interest in his voice. He was tickled by the challenge, just as much as Pa was, despite his dislike for axes. "Creates internal dampening against vibration."

  When I shared this, Pa nodded.

  “Roq, you might have something there. I've used similar techniques with regular bone, but Ruptureborn marrow is new to me.” He paused. “How would he know if he hasn’t worked with the material yet?”

  “What does working with material have over striking it dead? I killed it, lapped up its blood, and gained the full understanding of its creative properties.”

  “Really? You never mentioned that before.”

  “Okay. Not full. But I get a pretty good idea of what can be done from absorbing its blood. Want to know what we could have made from Ivan’s body if you went out and dug it back up?”

  “No!”

  “Fine. But, it’s pretty—”

  “Stop. No forging with human materials. Just, don’t.”

  “Fine.”

  “What’s he saying?” Pa asked.

  “Don’t ask. Just… he knows stuff. Let’s leave it at that.”

  “Another order,” Knut said. “Two-handed sword. For chaos.”

  He flexed his arms and crossed them.

  “Tell Pa to do it. Quick. Before he gets started on the thrice cursed axe!”

  Pa nodded thoughtfully, then his face split into a wicked grin.

  "I've been wanting to do something with a certain slightly used and bent two-handed sword we got recently." He glanced at me meaningfully.

  I knew exactly which sword he meant—the one we'd taken from Ivan, the thug the Domitius family had sent to burn down our smithy. The very same Roq talked of digging up.

  "Poetic justice," I murmured, enjoying seeing Pa in his element. Dissecting monsters and discussing potential crafts made him seem half his age. Add a dash of revenge to it, and he looked young enough to take on the world.

  "Exactly," Pa agreed. "Nothing like turning an enemy's weapon into something better. The steel’s, well, decent. Typical Domitius quality. But the weapon is poorly balanced, and Roq made a mess of it.”

  “What we do?” Knut asked.

  Pa stroked his beard.

  "The balance could be fixed, especially if we reforged it with elemental infusion." He smiled. "I could trade some of those Shardfang carcasses to the staffmaker. She can sell them to the royal bank for reputation. No gems for the bastards, but she'll get her standing improved, and no skin off our backs.”

  “Elemental damage?” Knut looked intrigued. “Fire?”

  "Not sure," Pa said. "I'll have to work with her to see what's possible with the materials we have on hand. But with the monster parts you’ve brought me, and the amount of steel in the two-hander, I might be able to make something with a bit of extra oomph to it."

  "Want heavy," Knut said firmly. "More weight, more power. No dancing blade."

  "Single-edged or double-edged?" Pa asked, likely already mentally sketching the design.

  "One edge," Knut replied, making a chopping motion with his hand. "Single edge. Much heft as possible. Not for small moves. For smashing." He thumped his chest. "Want feel impact. Want enemy feel more."

  “A few of the Tangle-Elk tendons on the grip will make the steel rust before it’ll wear out.”

  I relayed his comment, and Knut scowled.

  “My weapons no rust,” Knut said. “Maintain. Every day.”

  “Still a good idea, Roq, but I'd take it further," Pa said, already swiping out the Gloomstalk Cat and running a hand across its fur. “I’ll overlay it with this. Absorbs sweat as well as it does sound, and won’t get slick."

  “But solid. No break when need most," Knut said with a grin.

  "Break?" Pa scoffed. "The only thing that'll break is whatever you swing it at. But… you know what?” He clapped his hands together. "I've been so caught up in what we can make that I forgot to show you what I've already made."

  “Oh?” I said.

  "Don't look so shocked. I’ve barely been able to sleep after your dungeon run. Too many ideas and too many materials to play with.” He glanced towards the shop. “I mean work very hard to make great gear with.”

  "About time," Roq grumbled. "Show me what you've actually managed to create without my direct guidance. I’m rather curious if I may say so myself."

  “Look,” Pa said, and made his way to a workbench covered in heavy cloth.

  Knut pushed off from the wall and followed.

  "Surprises. Good.”

  "Ready?" Pa asked, his hand on the cloth, grinning like he was about to reveal a feast.

  "Just show us already," I said, unable to contain my curiosity.

  Pa yanked the cloth away with a flourish worthy of a stage performer.

  Arranged on the rack were three outstanding pieces.

  “Lots of spikes. Not bad," Roq admitted grudgingly. "Your father has skill. Not as much as I would have brought to these projects, but... they are acceptable."

  "High praise coming from you.”

  "For Knut," Pa said, lifting a massive tower shield. One rivalling Edwin’s. "Made from the other Brambleback’s front plates, reinforced with Steelhusk. Notice the spikes on the front? I think you’ll find they make it easier to keep anything hitting you stay very angry.”

  Knut's face split into a wide grin as he lifted the shield.

  "Heavy," he said approvingly. "Strong. Like it." He handed it to me for a look.

  Name: Thornwall

  Type: Shield

  Rarity: Rare

  +2 Vitality

  +2 Strength

  Abilities:

  1. Thorns: Reflects damage when struck from the front.

  I hefted it, turning left and right, and imagined slamming it down on a monster’s neck.

  “Can’t wait to see you use this,” I said, handing it back to Knut. “If you’d had this when the Hive Mind attacked--”

  Knut nodded, and stored the shield.

  “Thank you, Pa.”

  “No. Thank you, for saving Ash’s life. Think I’d let your shield be destroyed to protect my son and not replace it with an upgrade?”

  Knut laughed.

  “If destroy, next epic?”

  “If it’s to save his life? By the First Forge and Final Flame, I’ll do my best. But let me make my new experimental hammer first!”

  “What’s the armor?” I asked, nodding at a leather torso armor.

  “For Eryn," Pa said. "Made from Shardfang leather. Light enough for her to run around, but will turn most claws and teeth. I’m working on a replacement with the stuff from the dungeon, but wanted her to have something for now.”

  I picked it up.

  Name: Toothbound Jerkin

  Type: Chest

  Rarity: Magical

  +2 Vitality

  "And for you, son," he said, handing me a pair of leggings. “Something to replace your Crabwalks. A combination of cured troll hide across the skin of the Mossback Boar.”

  “Brambleback plating?” I asked.

  “Yup. Used the shoulder parts. A good balance between mobility and protection."

  I picked them up and checked them out.

  Name: Trollspine Briarplates

  Type: Leggings

  Rarity: Rare

  +2 Vitality

  +3 Strength

  "Pa, these are amazing," I said, examining the craftsmanship. It was a massive upgrade from the plus one vitality my current pants gave.

  "Bah!" Roq scoffed in my mind. "They're adequate at best. Now, if I could just break through to the next level, I could show you REAL craftsmanship! I could guide your father to create items that would make kings weep with envy!"

  "You're already doing that, Roq. The items we've been making with your guidance are exceptional. And Pa is learning a lot with every suggestion. That’s how he’s been making magical and rare gear lately. So yeah, thanks."

  "I…umm…yes, I accept your thanks, but once I break through… everything will be legendary!” Roq said excitedly. “Blacksmiths will trek across the land for a chance to touch my striking surface. They will be turned away, of course, but it shall be seen as good fortune to have made the pilgrimage to our forge.”

  I was about to respond when the smithy door opened, and Eryn walked in. Her expression was tired but not as tense as when she'd left to find Nabeeh.

  "How'd it go?" I asked immediately.

  Eryn sighed, pushing a strand of golden hair behind her ear.

  "She's upset but cooling down. Says she'll meet us at home later to talk."

  "Good," I said, relieved. "I was worried she might just up and leave. And I wouldn’t blame her."

  "She considered it," Eryn admitted. "But I think she genuinely likes us, despite everything. And she needs a party."

  Pa cleared his throat.

  "While you're here, Eryn, I've got something for you." He showed her the leather armor he'd made.

  Eryn smiled as she ran her fingers over the material.

  "This is wonderful, Pa," she said and punched it. “Light and tough!"

  "Try it on," Pa encouraged. "Should fit perfectly over your tunic."

  As Eryn slipped the armor over her head, Ma entered from the shop, carrying a large basket.

  “I am sorry for causing trouble,” Ma said, setting the basket down. "I've packed enough for all of you, including your fire-y mage friend. Hopefully it’ll help smooth things over.”

  "Thanks, Ma," I said, giving her a quick hug. "You're the best. And don’t worry. I know it’s hard to keep all these secrets straight.”

  “I do hope you sort things out with her," Ma said firmly. "A party needs trust to survive out there."

  "I know," I nodded. "We will."

  We said our goodbyes for now, and then left the smithy. The walk back to our new home was quiet, each of us lost in thought. I had the food from Ma in my spatial storage, along with our new gear. Knut refused to store his shield, and carried it proudly in hand, as if marching to war and sporting a big grin on his face.

  "What will you say to her?" Eryn asked as we approached our house.

  "The truth," I replied. "Or at least, as much of it as I can."

  "Mages," Knut grumbled. "Too sensitive. But has point."

  "She does," Eryn agreed. "I'd be upset too in her position."

  As we rounded the corner onto our street, I spotted Nabeeh sitting on our doorstep, her staff across her knees. She stood as we approached, her expression carefully neutral.

  "Figured you'd be back soon," she said, her voice even.

  "Sorry to keep you waiting," I replied. "We were at the smithy."

  Nabeeh shrugged.

  "Not like I have a key or anything."

  "You didn't ask for one," Eryn pointed out, pulling out the set of keys and not offering one to Nabeeh as she unlocked the door.

  "True," Nabeeh acknowledged. "I'm not complaining. Just stating a fact."

  I caught the implication—whether she'd get a key depended on our conversation.

  "We need to talk," I said, gesturing for her to enter.

  "Obviously," she replied and made her way inside.

  Knut and Eryn exchanged glances before Eryn spoke up.

  "We'll leave you two to it. Call if you need us."

  They headed upstairs to their rooms, leaving Nabeeh and me alone in the empty main room. I swiped out the basket of food Ma had prepared and set it between us.

  "Hungry?" I asked.

  Nabeeh eyed the food warily before nodding.

  "Starving, actually."

  We sat on the floor across from each other, the basket between us. The silence stretched uncomfortably as we both waited for the other to speak first.