Chapter 8 Orin’s smiting proses 

Orin and I walked to the main campus of the Smiths' Guild. The campus was divided by craft—leather workers in one part, woodworkers and wheelwrights in another, and some magical trades I didn't recognize. We made our way to the toolwrights' area.

"What do you need here?" I asked Orin.

"Well, I'll need a new anvil plate—that's why I had you put it into your storage space. I also need a new magical quench tank, and what's called whispering bellows. But since you provided a lesser flame spirit, the bellows will need a slight modification that I won't be able to do myself. Along with some other tools, but those are nothing special—expensive, but not special."

"Orin, what can I do for you?" a man behind the counter asked.

"Well John, I'm going to take the test for masterwork qualification. So I need all the tools that entails."

"Well, good for you, Orin. That will be 1,500 copper pieces. Do you have your anvil with you, or do you want me to send someone to your shop to make the modifications there?"

"My friend has it in his storage space. Where should he put it?" Orin said.

"Just put it on the floor there," John said.

Orin placed the thirty silver coins I had given him on the counter.

"Wow, how did you put thirty silver coins together? You know what—I don't want to know."

John called some workers from the back of the building, and they carried off the anvil. He then said, "Everything that needs to be crafted will be delivered to your shop. But we do have the tongs, hammer, and the master's edge calipers in stock. Do you want me to send word to the blacksmith who will be administering your test, or will you inform them yourself?"

"I'll be informing them myself," Orin said.

Orin submitted a formal application to the blacksmiths of the Smiths' Guild. We waited for a week. On day three, the tools Orin had purchased were delivered. On the fifth day, Nil stopped by and told me that the council would take longer than expected and that I should go collect my stipend, since neither of us were allowed to leave town. I was given 175 copper pieces for the week.

"Orin, we're with the Smiths' Guild. My name is Jerry, and my partner is Tom. We'll be administering your test for the right to market and sell masterwork-quality items. You have all the proper tools, a chunk of magical steel, and will be assisted by a lesser flame spirit. You'll also be observed by the half-elf who captured the flame spirit. Is that correct?" Jerry asked.

"Yes, that's all correct. Shall we begin?" Orin said, tying a bandana over his bald head.

"Of course," Jerry replied.

I sat on a wooden stool, and for the next thirty-six hours, I watched Orin hammer the magical steel into the recognizable shape of a longsword. There was a strange gap where the handguard should have been.

The lesser flame spirit kept the forge hot, and through my elven lineage, I could feel it growing stronger every moment. I felt Orin reach out and form a familiar bond—and I felt the flame spirit accept, evolving into a Forgeheart Ember. It was a beautiful thing to behold.

After quenching the blade in magical ichor, Orin attached a cage over the gap in the guard. He then handed the blade to me.

"Since this will be your blade, are there any changes you want before I put the edge on it?" Orin asked.

I looked over the blade. There was nothing wrong—not a single flaw or random hammer mark.

"No, Orin. It's perfect."

Orin took the blade back and brought it to the grinding wheel. The runes on the side of the wheel glowed as he placed the blade against it, and it began to spin on its own. The best part of the grinding wheel was that it placed a minor blessing on the blade—meaning the edge would never dull.

Orin placed the completed sword in front of Jerry and Tom. They pulled out tools and began to examine it. They looked over the weapon for nearly twenty minutes.

Tom finally spoke. "Orin, this is a beautiful blade. The material has been worked phenomenally. I know very few blacksmiths who could do better. I'll grant my blessing for you to be promoted to masterwork-quality smith. I'll even put in a request that you receive a monthly stipend if you produce a to-be-determined number of blades each month."

"I too will give my blessing for you to be promoted to masterwork-quality smith," Jerry added.

"And I'll recommend the same stipend arrangement to the guild."

"Orin, you'll need to present yourself at the Smiths' Guild campus to receive your official promotion, but for now, this is your temporary guild ID. It will allow you to sell masterwork-quality items at any reputable trade hall or out of your shop," Tom said.

Tom and Jerry left. I hugged Orin.

"Congratulations, brother."

"Thanks for giving me the push," Orin replied.

We both went to sleep after thirty-six straight hours of being awake.

Author's note

A lesser flame spirit has a few choices in life willingly give up a mortal form to go back to the spirit realm but someone has a familiar try to evolve on its own.