4E 201, Shor's Stone
Gerron Ironbreaker
How does one explain sight to a blind man?
The answer is, you can't. You can put it into words, but they will never be aningful to the person who can never understand it.
That was what it was like for Gerron Ironbreaker. He was just an ordinary nord trying his best to make it through life. He was an ordinary blacksmith in the simple town of Shor's Stone, where most of the things he needed to work on were the miners' pickaxes or the horseshoes of the local travelers.
When the Civil War kicked up, that routine changed and he now had to fulfill a weekly quota of weapons and armor for the stormcloaks fighting in the frontlines. He was fine with that.
But when the local mine closed down after frostbite spiders suddenly infested it, the town quickly started struggling. The Redbelly mine was Shor's Stone's only point of interest, as they had little else to trade.
While they had so able-bodied people who were good with hamrs and axes, it was nowhere near enough to handle the spiders that sprouted to over a hundred in number overnight.
They sent a runner down to Riften to request Jarl Laila to send troops in to clear it. They waited over a week, but the runner never returned. They suspected he died on the way. With the war in full force, many of the roads of Skyrim had beco littered with bandits—deserters turned criminals, refugees fleeing their Holds, and forr landowners displaced by war. The runner most likely t an unfortunate fate at their hands.
Filnjar, the only other blacksmith in town and the person everyone saw as the sort of leader, wanted to call on the Companions or even request help from one of the many Stormcloak patrols that regularly arrived in town for supplies, but until now, they heard nothing back.
Gerron himself was growing frustrated. The mine was the town's lifeblood, and without it, their entire economy was collapsing. That was always bad for business.
So, he did what he always did in tis of hardship—he prayed.
Kneeling before the modest shrine of Zenithar in the basent of his ho, Gerron clasped his hands and bowed his head. "Divines, hear . I do not ask for riches, nor do I seek power. I only ask that the hard work of this town be repaid in kind. That our labors not be in vain. Please… help us."
That night, he dread of a blue star. A vast and endless sky stretched before him, shimring with constellations he had never seen before. A presence filled the void—a warm, yet unfathomably powerful force. Before him stood a man draped in golden robes, his beard long and silver, his hands calloused from a lifeti of toil. His eyes, deep as the cosmos, held wisdom beyond mortal comprehension.
"Your prayers have been heard, child of Skyrim," the figure intoned. "You have labored with diligence and faith, and for that, the Divines grant you a gift. May you forge not only with hamr and anvil, but with the very essence of creation itself."
A burning light engulfed him, searing into his mind and soul. The pain was unbearable, but it carried with it knowledge—vast, endless, divine.
Then he woke up.
Strange symbols of light hovered before him, forming words in a language he sohow understood.
[Artificer System Online]
You are an artificer, a master of invention and ingenuity. Through magic and craftsmanship, you shall create wonders unseen in this age. Alchemy, forging, enchanting—all shall be at your fingertips. The world is your anvil, and reality itself is the tal to be shaped.
Artificer? System? Magic? What in Oblivion is this?
[The Alchemist]
You are an alchemist, an expert at combining reagents to produce mystical effects. Alchemists use their creations to give life and to leech it away. Alchemy is the oldest of artificer traditions, and its versatility has long been valued during tis of war and peace.
[The Battle Smith]
You are a battle smith, an expert at creating and repairing both weapons and armor. Battle Smiths are considered to be a combination of a smith and a warrior, using your own creations for protection and destruction amongst the battlefield.
Gerron's head pounded as more information poured into him. Blueprints, formulas, diagrams—each more complex than the last. Knowledge of how to brew elixirs that could make or break the world. Blueprints of weapons and armor, from simple tools to the most powerful artifacts.
Knowledge of combat was also installed into his mind, ways to utilize his own creations to wreak havoc amongst his foes.
His mind reeled as he clutched at his skull, feeling as though molten steel had been poured into his brain. He grit his teeth, enduring what felt like an eternity of agony before the pain finally subsided.
He gasped for air, his body drenched in sweat.
It felt like hours till he could move again. Slowly, he sat up. His body was marred with sweat, his hands trembled as he ran them through his hair.
But he ignored all of it, for there was sothing that he needed to do, sothing within him that had changed. His gaze flickered to his forge outside.
Without hesitation, he rose to his feet and strode out into the cool night air. The forge stood silent, waiting. The hamr lay where he had left it, a blue light shining just above the anvil.
Picking up the hamr, he let himself be guided by instinct, soft clanging of tal on tal echoed through the night. It was a good thing that his house was located on the edge of Shor's Stone, closer to the mine. None but the slumbering miners were disturbed by his nightly activities.
Imdiately, he realized that this entire ti, he had been living life blind. The swords and shields he was once proud of now looked to be creations of an amateur. As he hamred into the steel, He could see imperfections in the tal, weaknesses in its design. He had worked with steel for years, but never before had he seen it like this. It was as if a veil had been lifted from his eyes.
Every strike, every motion felt guided by sothing beyond him. He worked tirelessly, as if possessed. By the ti he was done, he held in his hands a one-handed maul and a wide, round shield—both sleek, both masterfully crafted.
And yet… sothing was missing.
He ran his fingers over the tal, frowning. They were strong, sturdy—better than anything he had ever forged before—but they were still incomplete. He could feel it in his very bones. It didn't take long for him to figure it out.
'They are flawed'.
As of right now, the maul and shield were rely finely crafted arms, nothing like what he knew he was capable of building. Even now, he could tell these things were still of worse quality than Skyforge Steel, the things Eorlund Gray-Mane could create in his smith.
He needed better quality materials. He also needed a source, sothing to imbue magic into his creations. There was only one thing in the whole of skyrim capable of doing sothing like that. Soul Gems.
Even then, he had totally run out of supplies entirely. It took all the iron and steel ingots he had to make these both. He needed more materials, and not only smithing tools, but also raw ingredients for the alchemical formulas he had running through his head.
Fortunately, he was in close proximity to a whole mine that was currently infested with spiders. He turned to the Redbelly Mine, its dark entrance looming in the distance.
A grin crept onto his face as he tightened his grip on his hamr and shield.
"Ti to put this steel to the test."
…
Kiera Fendalyn
"Hey you, you're finally awake…"
A set of amber yellow eyes opened into a land of snow.
…
AN: Here goes my new Skyrim fic. I got back to playing Skyrim again after accidentally watching a youtube video and got the muse to write my own story for it. This'll be my first sort of system fic so I hope I do it right.
The Artificer system will be a very passive, non hand holding system. There will be no missions or stats, but rely perks and recipes that he would use.
Gerron Ironbreaker (Gerron aning guardian and Ironbreaker aning sothing that is strong and resilient) is the main character. He's a regular dude born in the world of Skyrim, not a transmigration or anything like that.
The pic of Gerron is the one on the display picture. I'll post another one here just in case.
There will be no harem and romance will be a very subtle thing. It won't be a focus like my Fairy Tail fic.
Again, English isn't my first language since I'm from Indonesia, so bear whatever grammar or spelling mistakes you find.
Hope you enjoyed the chapter.
Cheers lads!
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