Yula and I made plans to meet the following morning to construct an earthen wall to her specifications. I’d never seen earthwork fortifications aside from pictures of Yorktown in a history book. But America had built Yorktown during the age of gunpowder. If orcs could climb like goblins could jump, I needed to know what kind of wall to create.

  After the meeting with Yula and Jourdain, I made my way across the plank wood maze spanning the mud to Fin’s smithy, our original forge. The familiar ring of hammer against anvil cheered me as I approached. It felt good to know not everything in Hawkhurst had changed.

  Fin’s eyes widened when I entered the smithy. “Bless me britches. It’s been a donkey’s since I last saw ye. How’s goes it, Guv?”

  “It goes well. How are things?” I smacked a wooden post that held up the roof. “It’s good to see you haven’t let the old place fall to ruin.”

  “Been cracking on arms for the longest time. Have you seen the Verdant Watch’s bonnie green duds?”

  “Yes, I have, and it’s quite the trendsetter. Your work?”

  “Some of it. I know hee-haw about leather, but every armor set needs fittings. Me lads and I fashioned them in bulk to Earna’s specs.”

  “Who’s Earna?”

  “She’s a tanner from Jarva. She and her guildies look to set up shop here. She came here for dino skins, saying they’re pure valuable back East—the nobles there like the feel of ‘em.”

  “Are they tough?”

  “Nay. They’re soft but durable. But she’d done wonders with worm hide.”

  I grunted, having reached the extent of my interest in fashion.

  Fin pulled out a wooden box filled with canvas wraps. “I’d wager you’re here to see our shiny new arsenal. Ye want to see how the cores shook out?”

  “You know me well, Fin.”

  “We had 233 white cores. I assumed ye didn’t need common equipment, so I gave a bunch to the leatherworkers for the worm armor. Others went to basic helmets, shields, bows, and spears. We had a dozen green cores, but they went to helms for the Verdant Watch.” Fin looked at me to see if I objected.

  I didn’t mind and shrugged to show it. Everyone knew I donated the cores toward the town’s defense, and it reassured me to know that Yula had already distributed them.

  Fin held a palm to his lips as if passing a secret. “I’ve kept the goodies under wraps in more ways than one, figuring you had first dibs on the best stuff. The truth is, I’m dying to show anyone what I’ve accomplished. Powerful monsters begat potent items. Here’s one I know you’ll like.”

  This made for an ideal head slot item for anyone in The Great RPG Contest. Plus, I had no combat gear for my head slot. Already, Fin had created a must-have item. The core came from the Gargasaurus that Yula and I fought while collecting gum for her canoe. She had a claim to the item, but with her wilderness skills, I didn’t think backstabbing presented as much of a threat.

  “Oh, Fin. This is wonderful. I’m swiping this one right now. But I know you’ve got more.”

  “I do at that.” He reached beneath a bench and pulled out a bundle of 10-foot-long spears.

  Fin held a pike, as did I. My agility and damage increased by 10.

  “They stack!” I counted seven identical weapons whose cores obviously came from the hydra that Yula and I slew. Access to new weapons geeked me up more than visiting a magic shop. Not only did these items come free for the taking, but they instilled closure from years of playing The Book of Dungeons. And since we forged them in Hawkhurst, I needn’t worry about other players claim-jumping them.

  The Alliance Pikes gave a force multiplier in the hands of seven warriors, giving +35 damage and a squad with 35 agility conjured images of a ninja attack force that could attack and evade with impunity—what would high agility combat even look like? My agility stood only 32, but I planned to stick with Gladius. Being anchored to six NPCs during combat wouldn’t enhance my cool. I preferred the self-appointed role of a free-roaming agent of mayhem. I wanted independence more than mobility.

  This should go to Yula or her top warriors on the watch.

  The monster bonus sturdy gave me a moment’s pause before remembering the porcine sludgemonger in the Underworks. The orange-rated threat nearly killed me. If anyone could claim it, it was Fabulosa who’d saved my life in the fight. But she wasn’t here.

  I wouldn’t trade Gladius Cognitus for a level 26 weapon, but I couldn’t dismiss this spear’s intriguing counter to crazy-good weapons. If other players wielded weapons with game-changing mechanics, the Spear of Breaking offered a way to destroy them. I appreciated the difficulty involved in destroying items possessed by opponents. The potency of the spear hadn’t evaded my imagination. Unfortunately, it only worked on weapons. It wouldn’t matter against Emperor Veegor and his relic.

  Fin’s forehead furrowed when he presented a hammer.

  “Rory and I used Crater to make the other weapons. It’s pure power in our mits. Blades wrought with Crater don’t break or lose sharpness. The adage ‘steel sharpens steel’ couldn’t be more untrue. In combat, steel dulls steel—but I suppose the smithy’s hammer also sharpens it, so it’s true, in a fashion.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “Crater could serve ye well in combat, but ye cannot deny its place lies in a forge.”

  I couldn’t bear to make him beg. With the Undersea Trident, I needed nothing for structural damage, and +8 strength for a blunt weapon wasn’t enough to make me greedy. “Then, at a forge, it shall remain. Tell me, do you or Rory know how to fight?”

  Fin’s expression went from thankful to indignant. “You’re off your head if’n ye think I don’t. I’d fight with me own toes if I weren’t outnumbered.”

  I held up my hands to surrender. “Okay, okay. Just as long as we can count on seeing you in action if the orcs breach the walls.”

  Fin proudly placed Crater onto his workbench. His demeanor brightened after he unwrapped the next weapon—a black dagger.

  My lip curled at this weapon. The ability to hide bodies made an excellent cutthroat mechanic for infiltrating an installation. The dagger also abetted ninja looting. It didn’t surprise me that such a sinister blade came from the core we’d taken from the death druid.

  Aside from the damage bonus, its role on a battlefield offered the quick clearance of bodies, a utility I wouldn’t have considered valuable until our last fight against the goblins. Cleaning up a battlefield was a distasteful chore. If my plan panned out, we’d need to do so again.

  I put the dagger down and inspected the next weapon.

  The Hardwood Girdle offered an instant upgrade to my mithril chest plate. The extra armor would help mitigate damage sustained from physical attacks, although I couldn’t calculate by how much. Armor effectiveness for this game required too much computation to decode, but the higher armor rating I had, the more damage I resisted. This girdle and helm nearly doubling my armor had to be good. I exchanged the girdle with the mithril, vowing to give it to Yula tomorrow.

  I stepped outside on a flagstone patio surrounding the smithy to test it. Would it only work on dirt? I needed to know. Though the description did not mention a restriction, I couldn’t believe the roots would shatter masonry to take root.

  Instead of sprouting roots through the flagstones, they fanned out, and I keeled over like a log—my rootwork dangled where my toes should be.

  Fin laughed at me from inside the smithy. After canceling the effect, I stood and wiped off mud from my robe.

  Fin winked and tossed a metal hoop to me. “And last but not least, this little number made me think of you.”

  I caught the headband and chuckled while turning it over. “Vain, huh?” Courtesy of Odum, blessed be his name, the Heady Headband perfectly suited our situation. Fin’s cheeky comment was a jest, but it suited my situation more than he knew. Willpower had saved me from mind control spells against the anomalocaris, and I couldn’t help but think even more willpower would protect me from enemy players.

  This head item could raise my willpower to 61. Perhaps high willpower mitigated incoming primal damage—something that might be a factor against the emperor.

  But I couldn’t wear the Heady Headband and Helm of Peripheral Vision simultaneously. And one could never know when backstabs presented a danger. But since I’d sent my letter to Uproar, the emperor’s spells weren’t my only danger. A willpower of 61 was admirable, but it wasn’t immunity. I took the helm.

  Besides, giving this to Yula or Jourdain activated the headband’s more important bonus—the morale effects. Orcs would suffer the same penalty regardless of who wore the headband.

  “Fin, I must confess, this has been the most pleasant welcome back.”

  “Wait! You can’t leave now. You haven’t told me about your trip!”

  “I’m afraid I have another meeting with Ida this afternoon. But don’t worry, I’m eating in the town hall tonight. Save me a spot at the fun table, and I’ll give everyone a full account of my adventures.”

  Fin didn’t look too disappointed. “Thar’s a square deal. I’ve dawdled long enough, I reckon. I’m a wee bit backlogged on orders anyway.”

  “But I’m happy to show you the bounty of my trip.” I produced the purple core.

  “Necrolith, eh?” Fin squinted as he studied the facets of the crystal.

  I nodded. “I had a lot of time to think about what to make with it. Fab suggested another cape, but we’re out of steel wool, and it stands to reason that exotic materials make epic items.”

  Fin nodded. “Stands a wee bit more to an absolute fact. Brill mats make fine weapons.”

  “Rory made Gladius, so I figured this one could be our little secret.” I produced the purple pearl I found outside the temple in a giant clam. “It being purple already matches the core. Since losing the Charm of Rescue to Iremont, I’ve had two empty trinket slots. And since we’ve found no other trinkets, it’s unlikely I’ll ever want to replace whatever this makes.”

  Fin held up the core and pearl, which almost matched in size. “I’ve a wee spot of mithril from the arc weaver. Not enough to make a weapon, but enough to fashion a braw setting for yer bonny pearl. Am I assuming this latest priority cuts to the front of the line of other priorities?”

  “Like I said, you know me well.”

  “Good. I’d rather have an excuse to dally on me orders. I’ll let ye know what I come up with.”

  “Right on, pal. I’ll see you tonight at the town hall. And if you see Rory, give him my thanks.”

  Fin waved and returned to his work.