Astrid barely heard Olafson describe the items he was giving the other mbers of the party. Felix got an axe that could create a spectral hook to sink into his opponent to pull it towards him, Benedict a pair of boots that, instead of just boosting his Alacrity, could be provided with mana to make him faster. Finally, Skandr received a staff, blackened and cracked at the top that Astrid didn’t listen to the explanation of.
Throughout it all, Astrid was, to say it frankly, playing with her new hamr. When she swung it, a strange echo followed after it, though Astrid figured that wasn’t the right word. It wasn’t a sound, it was a physical thing, and even gently, when she smacked the hamr into her own hand, she could feel the impact twice. The second hit wasn’t quite the sa strength as the first, maybe sowhere between half and three quarters as strong, which was more than she’d expected. She swung it again and again and never felt any draw from her own mana, stamina, or anything else.
Once the others had all received their items along with an explanation, Astrid walked back up to Olafson and asked, “So how long can I continue to use the hamr like this and it continues to echo? Like, does it have so reservoir of mana inside of it that will eventually be exhausted? Or does it need to give it ti to recover? There’s gotta be a limit to this.”
“Yes, there is a limit,” Olafson answered. “I think that this one will hold up to maybe a hundred hits before it needs to have its internal mana stores refreshed.”
“I’ve swung it way more than a hundred tis,” Astrid said, disbelieving, “so you an actual hits? The mana in the hamr isn’t at all exhausted by test swings, movent, or even misses, only strikes that make contact?”
“What you’re seeing is not really the effect,” Olafson shrugged. “It’s just an optical remnant of the stone itself. It doesn’t cost its mana or anything to look that way. It’s like asking how exhausting it is to just wear your armor. You only get tired when you start getting hit and dodging. In that sa way, the echo stone isn’t exhausted just by being moved, it’s just when it’s hit or hits sothing.”
“Duchess above,” Astrid breathed as she looked at the dark stone again. It wasn’t too large, maybe a touch larger than her two fists pressed together. Even so, it weighed so much, especially in combination with the manasteel haft. “And how do I replenish the stone’s natural stores? Do I need to leave it out in the Dungeon or anything?”
“Ordinarily, yes,” Olafson said, bringing Astrid’s attention right back to that qualifier. He continued, “That’s the brilliant part of this weapon’s design, if you ask . I took the liberty of making this a peak Steel tier weapon. What that ans is that the rest of your equipnt might be slightly lower quality than what everybody else can manage to sustain in the long term without suffering from mana toxicity. In exchange, your weapon is going to be really good, even into Mithril tier.”
“Okay, that’s really great,” Astrid said, trying to hold down her excitent, “but you didn’t say how I actually refill it.”
“Echo stone is typically only a Mithril tier and above material,” he explained without imdiately giving her the information that she wanted. “It’s very rare, only cos from parts of the Dungeon that are heavily infused with mana. It can draw mana from the air, but it grows best on pure veins of any mana-dense tal while taking on a small bit of an aspect of that tal. If it’s on top of mithril, it will be more mana-conductive. On top of Dungeon Gold? It might propagate itself. And on top of manasteel, it grows much tougher.
“The haft of this hamr is made of the manasteel that the echo stone was initially growing on,” Olafson’s voice dropped as he said it, gravity accompanying his every word. “Not only is this echo stone unusually well suited to be a weapon, all that you need to do to keep its mana stores full is to push unaligned mana into your hand as you hold it. It will naturally travel up into the stone without any further effort from you, and it’s very efficient on top of that.”
Astrid’s eyebrows raised as he explained it, and as she caught his enthusiasm, he nodded and said, “I’m really proud of it. If you don’t love it, bring it back, I’ll keep it around just to show off.”
Without thinking, she held it close to her chest and turned away, keeping her body between herself and the Craftsman. “No, I’m good. I love it. No touchy.”
He laughed and waved his hand at her. “Now, can I see the rest of the irregular wyvern’s materials? I haven’t been able to see much so far, and I’d like to think I’ve been pretty patient.”
Astrid imdiately handed over her spatial pouch, the rest of the party following suit as Olafson carried the pouches into the back of his trading post, and the sound of heavy thumps on the ground echoed through the building. A part of Astrid could hear him talking to himself, evaluating the materials, but she didn’t care. Instead, she got more and more excited about this weapon. No other weapon she’d had was particularly exciting until now, and, in truth, none of her equipnt had been anything beyond very high quality. The closest thing to interesting enchantnts she had were the ones on her greaves to keep her rooted on the ground or her helt to keep her mind clear, then the ammunition from Skandr, but that wasn’t really equipnt, just sothing she could use.
This hamr, though, was brilliant, and she couldn’t wait to use it. Without thinking further about it, she ntally cut off her connection to her regular, dense hamr and placed it on the counter while she pulled over a stool, settled herself on it, and started binding the hamr into her equipnt Skill. Ordinarily, it took about five minutes, and she wasn’t going to take any longer than she absolutely needed to before. This was her new companion. After all, there were still months until she could even conceivably cross the watershed of the first part of Steel, and this would hold value for years for her.
By the ti she finished, Olafson appeared, and Astrid asked, not thinking, “Since I had an extraordinary rarity Iron and now Steel Class, how limited are my other equipnt options going to be?”
Without saying anything, Olafson blinked three tis, each one slower than the last. Finally, he cleared his throat and asked, “You said extraordinary… at Iron?”
Astrid felt her face screw up in consternation. With nothing to do but tell the truth now, she nodded. Olafson took a long, slow breath and then another. Finally, he said, “I guess I can give you a bit of an explanation on how these different designations are decided, because if that’s true, you’re going to find it pretty difficult to find things that fit you perfectly.”
Astrid nodded, and Olafson gestured for everyone else to co close and listen.
“As a general rule,” he started straight off, “the equipnt you wear can’t provide more than fifty percent of your total attributes. At that point, you’re going to almost imdiately suffer from mana burns, which obviously nobody wants. However, you’ll also get mana burns from things that, in total, provide about forty percent of your total attributes after about fifteen to twenty minutes. If you’re pushing it, thirty percent of your total attributes being given to you by the equipnt is about the most that you can expect to use for maybe a couple hours. That percentage will also vary depending on the strength of the enchantnts that are also a part of the equipnt. So, sothing simple like the enchantnts on this hamr you’ve got aren’t going to do much. Sothing like that staff I gave Skandr, though, that’ll count for a lot.
“Thus, as you gain levels, your body is more acclimatized to higher mana density, and mana-dense materials aren’t going to harm you as easily. Does that make sense?”
Astrid nodded, but a thought crossed her mind as she tried to think of what her own attributes had looked like when she first evolved to Iron. “I think that the equipnt we got from the Guild when we evolved was higher quality than that. We should’ve gotten mana burns, then.”
“Exactly,” the Simian Kin nodded. “Each ti you evolve, you basically get about a shadow one hundred added to your attributes in terms of ability to use mana-dense equipnt without getting hurt. At least, at the common rarity, you get about one hundred. That goes up by about one hundred more for each rarity it goes up. In your case, that would an about five hundred extra attributes that could be provided through your equipnt due to the rarity of your Class when you evolve. Thus, if you get an extraordinary tier Class when you evolve into Iron, it basically doubles your capacity to expose yourself to mana-dense materials for extended periods of ti.”
“And that snowballs from there,” Astrid breathed, thinking what all of this ant. “Because in Iron, I got… over seven hundred more attribute points than sobody who got a common rarity Class.”
“Which then allowed you to get an extraordinary rarity Class a second ti in Steel,” he confird. “That ans, at the peak of Steel tier, you’ll have a total of, at the very least, four thousand, seven hundred and forty total attribute points, plus another thousand from your two Class evolutions, and you can see why that might be hard for you to estimate what kind of equipnt you can equip for a long period of ti without getting yourself into trouble.”
“It’ll be impossible to tell just what kind of stuff we can deal with without digging into it at higher tiers,” Skandr agreed.
“In general, peak Steel tier equipnt is considered a full set that would provide about thirty percent to sobody whose total attribute points, including the bonuses from evolutions, are around four thousand five hundred,” Olafson explained. “Mithril tier is then considered equipnt starting for sobody at about a thousand more than that, five thousand total attributes across everything, since people who are able to evolve that high aren’t people who are getting common and uncommon Iron and Steel tier Classes.”
“Which ans that I’ll be able to equip Mithril tier equipnt when I’m in the final watershed of Steel,” Astrid nodded. “Thanks for the information.”
“Of course,” Olafson offered. “If you have any other questions, shoot them my way, but I’ll be trying to figure out what I can do for your equipnt like this. That’s so exciting, I didn’t expect you to be able to reach these heights, it makes things a lot more flexible for .”
The Wanderers gave him their goodbyes and walked out of the trading post to move toward the inn where they would stay for the night.
“Discounting Miss ‘double extraordinary’ over here,” Benedict said, his steps moving him from side to side in a movent disconcertingly like lightning striking, “this ans that we’ll all have trouble finding equipnt that actually suits us.”
“We’ll basically all be in Mithril tier equipnt not long after we cross the final watershed of Steel,” Astrid agreed. “What I didn’t ask him about was how we could go into a Steel tier Dungeon but only for a few hours when we should have been able to use so Steel tier equipnt as high Irons.”
“I’d imagine that we were only able to spend as long as we could because of our evolutions and attribute levels,” Skandr disagreed. “But there’s so much we don’t understand about how mana affects us that we can’t really do anything other than guess.”
Astrid nodded, and the rest of the party followed her path into the inn, whose doors remained open, just as Michel had said. As soon as they walked through the doorway, a gorgeous sll crashed into Astrid, and she stopped, taking a deep breath of it.
“Ah, you are finished,” the Golem Artisan welcod them. Astrid only noticed at that point that there was, on the far wall, a large window cut that allowed access into the kitchen. The well-kept man stood there and nodded a welco to them. “Am I right in assuming that you are now ready to take your al?”
Astrid looked at the others, all of whom nodded their agreent. “That slls good enough that I don’t think that I would be able to do sothing else now even if I wanted to.”
Michel’s face cracked open in a wide smile at that, and he said, “Well, I must thank you for that great complint. Now, please, take a seat. The food is always best enjoyed fresh.”
The party didn’t question it, taking their seats around the nearest table as the sa servant as before, what Astrid had to assu was a golem, began collecting plates from the service window and placing them on the table.
A fine spread of roasted vegetables, stewed at, a fruit platter, a thick slice of cheese, rolls, and wine was quickly set in front of each person, and nobody even tried to hold back from tearing into it.
Astrid found herself moaning in involuntary pleasure as she took the first bite. The potato that she’d bitten into was soft, almost lting in her mouth, with a thick pat of butter, and the taste of the gravy that was poured over it as well served to overwhelm her. Then, the faint trickle of mana from her stomach suffused her with an indescribable comfort that she couldn’t help but lean into. She barely opened her eyes before she cut a single bite from the at and placed it in her mouth. It felt and tasted mostly like beef, but there was sothing else about it, and the rich mana filled her belly and chest as she lost herself in eating the al.
She had thoughts of asking Michel about the cost of the stay and the al, but everything was washed away under the inevitable tide of the al. Every bit had so mana infused into it, though how much or even how, she didn’t know. By the ti she finished her plate and allowed herself to bite into the fruit, she was surprisingly full, even though the serving wasn’t as large as she typically had to eat to make sure she was satiated.
Just as she realized her plates were empty and her glass had only the smallest drops left, the butler golem ca out and placed a small bowl in front of her. It had a single, small scoop of what she slowly recognized was ice cream. It was a treat she’d only had a couple tis before, and with a dainty spoon, she scooped it up and placed the smallest tidbit directly onto her tongue. The chill was beautiful, and she swirled the sweet treat on her tongue, just enjoying this decadent al for the first ti in a year. A year of trail rations and crudely cooked at on campfires was washed away, and once she was done, Astrid sat back against her chair and basked in the pleasant sensation of being full of a true, overwhelmingly delicious al.
Around her, the others did much the sa, any conversation long since forgotten in the wake of Michel’s food. Finally, after several minutes had passed, Astrid opened her eyes and saw the golem artisan standing nearby, a pleased smile on his face.
“Did you enjoy it?”
“I don’t have words for how wonderful that was,” Astrid laughed. “That was beautiful. I’m only afraid that we won’t be able to repay you for it.”
He waved his hand dismissively in front of her, saying, “This is a bed-and-breakfast. You are given two als a day, complentary, along with the price of the stay.”
Astrid, now confronted with the cost, could barely manage to force herself to ask, “And how much is the daily cost for the five of us?”
“Call it seven silver,” he laughed. “If you begin to abuse my sincerity, then we will have problems, but so long as you maintain yourselves as polite guests, that is a satisfactory price for .”
“Michel,” Astrid gasped out. “This is obviously worth much more than that.”
“If I was looking to make a profit, I would’ve returned to delving or golem creation in Ginnastadt,” he said gently, reaching out and patting the back of her hand. “I have made more than enough for one man, and your reactions are worth more than any gold I have earned through other work. Now, let show you to your rooms.”
He didn’t say anything more as he led the way away from the table and up the stairs. There, a small hallway with three doors on each side lay, and Michel explained, “Each of these rooms is yours, whichever one you would like. My rooms are downstairs. If any of you find yourself in need of , there is a small rope you can pull in your room, which is connected to a bell in my room. A golem will co to assist you in the event that you do pull the rope and ring the bell. Otherwise, enjoy your stay, and I’ll see you in the morning with your breakfast.”
At that, he turned and walked back down the stairs, leaving the Wanderers to select their rooms. Benedict was the first to speak, saying, “I’m getting my sleep, and I don’t care what ti you all wake up. I’m not getting up until I want to, so don’t co banging on my door.”
He said nothing more as he stepped into a room, closed it, and the sound of a deadbolt slamming ho sounded out. Astrid laughed, looked at the rest, and shrugged.
“I think I’m gonna do what he did. After all, I want to get so sleep, but tomorrow, I’ve got a new weapon to try out.”
In her room, there was a large bed, the mattress stuffed with down and probably the softest thing she’d ever laid on. She barely managed to get herself changed into her sleepwear before she lay down, and sleep imdiately embraced her.
User Comments
0 comments from readers