Path of Dragons

“Does he look different to you?” asked Carmen, her eyes trained on the multi-colored creature flying through the sky. “He looks different.”

“Looks terrifyin’ is what he looks,” said Carissa with a shiver. “How you spend so much time with ‘im, I’ll never know. I’d be ‘fraid he’d eat me.”

“He doesn’t eat people,” Carmen sighed. “You know that. He’s saved this town twice now.”

“And I ‘preciate it. I really do. But that don’t mean I want to hang out with ‘im,” the dwarven woman responded. “You heard what he did, right? About Ramik?”

Carmen had. She wasn’t sure what exactly a Seal of Authority did, but according to Carissa, it had the capacity to change everything about Ironshore. Everyone’s lives stood to improve, and all because Elijah had given Ramik a nearly priceless treasure. What’s more, Carmen knew where he’d gotten it, too. So, her feelings about the whole situation were complicated by the fact that it had once belonged to a man she hated more than any other. That Roman was dead didn’t really do anything to assuage her enmity, and she wanted nothing more than to simply move on and never think of him again.

Most of the time, she was successful, but Carmen wasn’t sure if she’d ever truly reach that lofty goal.

She nodded, saying, “I hope it works out. From what I understand, it could be really helpful.”

“That’s an understatement,” Carissa stated definitively. “With it, Ironshore could be one of the most important cities on this planet.”

“Those are high expectations.”

Carmen shrugged, saying, “If you say so.” She glanced back at the restaurant she’d reserved for her meeting. It wasn’t her favorite place, but it was run by a dwarven woman who specialized in their particular brand of food. Heavy in meats, starches, and spicy sauces, it was like a mixture of her mother’s cooking and American country cuisine. She liked it well enough, but it was Carissa’s – and most of the dwarves in Ironshore – favorite dining spot. By comparison, goblins preferred places like the Stuck Pig, with what could only be described as barbecue, while the gnomish and human residents of the city sampled all of the options. In any case, she expected that everyone had arrived, which meant that it was time to head inside. “You ready?”

“You’re the one doin’ all the talkin’,” Carissa stated with a slight smile. “I just get to eat. You are payin’ right? That’s what I told everyone.”

Carmen sighed again. “That’s the deal,” she answered. Indeed, that was the only way she could get everyone to show up. Even among alien races, the promise of a free meal was all it took attract a crowd. “Come on.”

Carmen then led Carissa inside. The interior of the building had been designed according to the preferred dwarven aesthetic, which meant that it featured lots of hard edges and stone. Those were softened slightly by the paintings hanging on the wall, most of which depicted scenes of various underground caverns. The landscapes were fantastic, with glowing plants, thick rivers of glittering ore cutting through the walls, and tall mushrooms that resembled trees. They evoked the same sense of awe Carmen might have felt when looking at paintings created by human masters.

More importantly, they manifested a certain aura that, apparently, could be traced back to the fact that they had been created by people with Painter classes. Since starting the Great Forge project, Carmen had been paying close attention to such things, and because of that, she had begun to notice just how much ethera inundated even the mundane in a place like Ironshore.

The paintings on the wall weren’t powerful enough to have truly magical effects, but they did promote a sense of calm and happiness that reminded Carmen of what she might feel after treating herself to a spa day. Not something she’d felt since the apocalypse came, but she and Alyssa had enjoyed that kind of thing every couple of months back before everything had changed.

But what would change if those pieces of art had been created by a higher-level Painter? Or in more applicable terms, how would a true Sculptor affect the Great Forge? Carmen had started the project wanting to emulate the temple back in Argos, though with a theme of creation instead of healing. However, she had lately begun to realize just how narrow-minded she had become.

That was why she had invited the city’s most revered crafters and professionals to this meeting.

The restaurant was empty except for a single table, at which sat a group of people. Some, like Biggle, she knew reasonably well. But there were some she’d only met in passing. And finally, there were a couple she’d never seen before. Regardless of her familiarity with them, they were the best Ironshore had to offer.

Biggle, with his wild hair and singed mustache, sat at the head of the table. Next to him was Gavina, wringing her hands and casting furtive glances all around, as if she was trying to look everywhere at once. Carissa took her seat at the other end of the table, and Carmen didn’t miss the disappointed expression Donagal – the city’s head Builder – adopted when she didn’t sit next him. There was a goblin Jeweler named Eskeki, Mari the Tailor, as well as a human Engineer Carmen had only met a single time. Finally, there were a few others she didn’t know at all, but each one held themselves with a certain confidence that only came from reasonably high attributes.

Clearly, everyone present possessed decent levels, which meant that they were experienced, dedicated crafters.

Carmen knew from experience that gaining levels as a Tradesman was very different than it was for most combat classes. At its core, it functioned on the same principles. However, instead of going out and hunting monsters, a crafter gained experience by practicing their trade. And while it was steady, it was no quick process. While someone like Elijah could go out and slaughter a few hundred beasts and gain a level, Carmen would need to craft for weeks to get the same benefits. The tradeoff was that she didn’t have to risk her life for her levels.

Slow but safe and steady was the crafter’s mantra. Carmen had earned plenty of experience in the other way, but she hoped that her fighting days were far behind her. Most of the time, at least. Sometimes, she wanted nothing more than to head out into the wilderness and pummel a monster to death, though.

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She took a deep breath, then said, “Thank you all for coming. It means a lot that you took time out of your busy schedules to –”

“Why’re we ‘ere?” asked Donagal, his accent thicker than it was with most dwarves. Carmen didn’t know what that meant – societally or culturally – but it was definitely noticeable.

“Let ‘er talk, Donny. Ain’t nobody like gettin’ interrupted,” Carissa admonished.

“Don’t call me Donny. That ain’t my name, wench.”

“Use ta like it when I called ya Donny, eh? Especially when I was tuggin’ yer beard.”

Donagal went red in the face, though Carmen wasn’t certain if it was embarrassment or anger coloring his expression. Regardless, she knew she needed to step in before things got rowdy. Culturally speaking, dwarves weren’t exactly quick to anger, but once they got going, it was hard to stop them.

“Carissa.”

“What? He –”

“Leave it alone. Please. We’re all friends here.”

Carissa sighed, then agreed. As Carmen sat in an empty chair, a dwarven server approached and set the meal upon the table. The dwarven manner of dining was extremely informal, with everyone picking food from the same platters. Carmen didn’t particularly like that part of it, largely because it seemed unhygienic to her, but she figured that playing by their rules would probably make the meeting go a little better.

The food itself was exactly what she’d expected, featuring huge platters of roasted meats, bread, and potatoes. Everyone was given bowls of sauces into which they were intended to dip the various meats. Carmen thought she recognized venison in there, but there were a few types she couldn’t identify. However, even as she dug in, she couldn’t deny how tasty everything was.

Her favorite was a tangy orange sauce that reminded her of Carolina barbecue sauce, but with a little extra kick to it. There were also sweet sauces, bitter sauces, and a bunch that combined a variety of tastes. More importantly, it had all clearly been prepared by a passable Cook, so there was plenty of ethera laced through the entire meal.

Carmen also had to admit that the meal was a pleasant experience. She spent so much time sequestered in her smithy that she rarely had a chance to just commune with other people. And even if she’d never been a social butterfly, she was still human. And that meant that she needed connection to other people as much as anyone else. So, even if it wasn’t the point of the meeting, just hanging out with like-minded people was something she’d sorely needed.

“We should do this more,” said Eskeki, echoing Carmen’s thoughts. “I get so focused on my work that I often forget there is an entire world outside my shop.”

“I was just thinking the same thing,” Carmen admitted, licking some of that delectable orange sauce from her fingers. At the other end of the table, Biggle had just told an off-color joke about a gnomish man and an ogre paramour, eliciting a guffaw from Donagal and a blush from Mari. The rest of the meeting’s attendees were deep in their own conversations. “This is nice, right?”

Eskeki nodded, her huge ears flapping slightly at the motion. “Most non-Tradesmen don’t understand us,” she stated. “They just see the product. They never think about the countless hours of work necessary to even reach the point where you can attempt something worthwhile. But we all know that feeling when you truly tap into your materials’ potential.”

“I remember the first time I made something I thought was special,” Carmen stated. “My wife…it was spear for her. Given what I can do now, it wasn’t really powerful. I could hammer something like that out in an hour. But…but it still meant so much back then. It was proof that I could help the people I love, that I hadn’t chosen the wrong path.”

“Is that what drives you? Helping people?”

“Isn’t that why we all do what we do?” Carmen asked.

Eskeki shrugged. “Not really. For my own part, I am far more concerned with the process itself. Donagal over there cares more about the final product. Mari just likes seeing people in pretty dresses. And Biggle…well, he’s just a little crazy. In a good way, mind you, but that gnome has no sense of danger. My point is that we’re all here for different reasons, and that’s okay.”

Carmen nodded. It made sense, even if she had never acknowledged it before. Sure, she felt all of those things to a certain extent. Every crafter did. However, some felt different aspects more keenly than others, and that seemed like an important distinction, though she wasn’t sure how.

After that, the conversation shifted to less esoteric matters. Eskeki described some of her current projects, while Carmen explained how she’d created the armor that had protected most of city’s fighters during the second Battle of Ironshore. Eventually, the meal wound down, and the conversation began to peter out.

That was a sign that Carmen’s time to reveal the purpose of the meeting had finally come.

She cleared her throat and pushed herself upright. Carissa told everyone to quiet down, then added, “Floor’s yours.”

“’Bout time,” Donagal muttered to himself, clearly annoyed that his previous question had been ignored in favor of the meal. It hadn’t kept him from eating his weight in tasty food, but he seemed like a grumpy sort.

Carmen had never been much for public speaking. It didn’t leave her shaking in fear or anything, but she definitely wasn’t comfortable with it. Her anxiety made her thoughts that much more difficult to grasp. Still, she’d been going over everything in her mind for the past couple of days, so after taking another deep breath, she launched into it.

“Thank you all for coming,” she said. “As many of you know, I’ve been working on building a special forge. Donagal and his Builders have helped immensely with that endeavor.”

“Would’ve already been done if you’d let us build it,” he said, puffing out his chest. “But you’ve been doin’ a fair job of it all the same.”

“Right. So, of late, I’ve been thinking that my plans are too small. Too short-sighted,” she revealed. “As such, I’ve adjusted my vision. Instead of just building a forge, I want to build a complex that can cater to every sort of crafter. I intend to use all the best materials. Dragonstone. Blood tin. Sun rubies. Whatever we can find that’s powerful. But more than that, I want to make it a place of power.

“In Argos, we built a temple not that long ago, and even though we didn’t put quite the level of effort into it as what I’m talking about, it’s already starting to have an effect on the city. From what I’ve seen in the messages I’ve received lately, it has developed an aura of healing. It’s not strong, but it’s still growing more powerful,” she explained. “I want that for us. Not with healing, but with crafting. I want to build a temple dedicated to creation.”

“And what do you want from us?” asked one of the humans she didn’t recognize. “I’m a Woodworker, not a Builder. I don’t know anything about construction.”

“Right now? I need money. Support. Guidance for your spaces. Tell me how you would set up your ideal workspace,” she answered. “Help me plan it, and when the time comes, you would need to participate in the creation of your particular section. When it all comes together, I think it will create an aura of creation that will make everything we do that much better. Together, we can make Ironshore a powerhouse of crafting. We have access to some of the best materials in the world. The mine is rich, there’s a quarry for dragonstone nearby, and we have better ethereal density than anywhere on Earth. We have everything we need to be this world’s leader in crafting. We just have to give it a little push.”

For a moment, everyone remained silent, but then, Biggle said, “I’m in. So long as I get to specify the features of the lab in this crafting chimera of a facility, I’ll give you what you need. And I expect everyone else’ll do the same.”

As it turned out, almost everyone loved the idea. At least outwardly. There were a few that were less enthusiastic than the others, but they came around when Carmen revealed that she’d already negotiated the project’s subsidization by the city. That brought the detractors around, even if they still seemed a little skeptical.

In the end, though, they all came to an agreement, and they even started planning for the project.

“And just like that, it begins,” said Eskeki as the various crafters discussed their plans. “I have a good feeling about this.”

“Me too,” Carmen admitted.

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