Rise of the Living Forge

Arwin studied the materials laid out before him. His back was sore from hunching over an anvil and his jaw hurt from being clenched in concentration. He’d spent the last three hours poring over everything he had to work with, trying to figure out what the best way to make the bracelet for Twelve would be.

He’d tested out every single type of metal that he still had pieces of, quizzing them mentally to run through their desires before eventually settling on Ivorin. While some of the other metals Esmerelda could have gotten him might have been stronger, Ivorin was so happy to be used for anything that it fit his needs perfectly.

The most important aspect for an item like this was ensuring it did exactly what he wanted. There was no room for failure or deviation from the plan.

Unfortunately, choosing the metal turned out to be the easy part.

The real struggle was figuring out what components Arwin would add to it. There were three main things the bracelet absolutely had to accomplish. It had to be functionally impossible to remove, it had to change its wearer’s appearance to a pre-set monster, and it had to change or warp their words to ensure Twelve couldn’t reveal anything during the fight.

There wasn’t a good way for Arwin to predict exactly what to put into the bracelet. He’d never made anything even remotely like this. There were so many separate pieces that had to work perfectly and in conjunction that he was tempted to rip his own hair out.

Every component of an item affected the other ones. The more different desires and magical desires there were within the bracelet, the harder it would be for him to ensure it acted the way he wanted it to.

Arwin held up several pieces of carapace that the Menagerie had collected over their time together. Pieces of spider, chunks of centipede, and a few extras that Rodrick had brought in from dungeon delves that Arwin hadn’t been on.

He set the pieces down beside a pile of wyrm parts — teeth, claws, fangs, bones. And it wasn’t just that. There were parts from dozens of different monsters. If anyone had walked into his smithy, they might have suspected him to be a madman hording trophies of his victims rather than a smith.

Arwin was still poring over his options when the door to his smithy swung open behind him. He glanced over his shoulder as Esmerelda and Lillia stepped into the room. The Infernal Armory slammed the door shut behind them with a resounding bang.

“Dramatic,” Lillia muttered under her breath.

“I like it,” Esmerelda said. “A flair for the dramatic is a core component of any true devil. We have much to study.”

Lillia sent Esmerelda a sidelong look. It struck Arwin that they still hadn’t told the elderly woman the truth about their identities. Something told him that Esmerelda might have ever so slightly misunderstood the situation — but at the moment, he couldn’t be bothered to rectify her misconceptions.

“I’ve never been more relieved to see people. I’ve hit my wits end. But how’s the Devil’s Den?” Arwin asked. “And are you feeling okay, Lillia?”

“I’m doing fine. I still feel a little weird, but the connection is established,” Lillia said. She shifted from foot to foot, then shook her head. “I can’t really describe it. It feels like I got an extra limb.”

“I’ve grown a few of those in my lifetime,” Esmerelda said, her eyes glazing over in reminiscence as a small smile played across her weathered features. “Ah, the good old days. I miss them every day. I used to have so much fun. People were so much more interesting back then. Now, everybody is a little penny pincher. I haven’t sold anything in months. Months! Where is everyone’s sense of adventure?”

“Could that be because you insist on selling Cursed items?” Arwin hedged. “It’s not a very good long-term business plan.”

“Nonsense. My stock is perfectly fine.” Esmerleda exclaimed loudly in an affronted tone. She glanced over her shoulder and then lowered her voice. “It’s definitely because I sell cursed items. But Lillia tells me that’s exactly why you need to call on my expertise. Is there something you need to purchase?”

Arwin winced. There was a note of desperation in the old woman’s tone. He was almost starting to feel bad about shooting Esmerelda’s attempts down.

“No. I need help making a Cursed item, not buying one.”

Esmerelda heaved a sigh. “Of course. My consultation fee is a toe.”

“A what now?” Arwin asked.

“A toe.” Esmerelda pointed at her foot. “Devil’s toe. Very useful. You’ll grow it back soon enough.”

Does… Esmerelda think I’m a devil?

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“I’m not giving you that,” Arwin said.

“I’ll settle for a toenail,” Esmerelda said. “It’s only fair. A fee—”

“Would obviously be waived, given that you’ve stated desire to be part of the Menagerie,” Lillia said smoothly. “And we don’t charge each other for advice.”

Esmerelda’s mouth snapped shut. She glared at Lillia for a second before her shoulders slumped and she let out a heavy sigh. “Oh, fine. Out with it, then. What do you need?”

Arwin briefly explained the bracelet to Esmerelda. She listened quietly until he had finished, then nodded thoughtfully as she rubbed at her chin. Several seconds of silence passed before a grin pulled across her lips.

“What a nefarious item. Positively vile. Forcibly warping someone’s form into that of a monster… only a real devil could come up with such an idea. I am honored to work in your presence,” Esmerelda said in delight.

Arwin repressed a wince.

Ouch. I… really didn’t need to hear that. This is far from an honorable fight — but Twelve trained and armed a murderous monster. I’m not going to play nice with somebody like that. Not when my guild’s lives are on the line.

“So?” Arwin asked through a weary sigh. “How can I do it? My problem is I’ve got too many competing desires. I can’t figure out how to get it all to come together without causing too many conflicts in desire. Have you ever run into a situation like that when you make potions?”

“Oh, all the time.” Esmerelda waved a hand dismissively. “There are countless ingredients for my work. Most of them are magic, and half of ‘em hate the other half. You have to find which ones don’t hate each other and make the potion one bit at a time. Combine the bits that work first, and when that mellows out, you have something new. It reacts differently than each of its components, which is why order is so important when brewing.”

“I see,” Arwin said, tapping a finger against his thigh in thought. “But how do you keep the different parts from competing with each other if you need a potion that does multiple complex things?”

Esmerelda reached into her pant pocket and rifled around in it for a moment before pulling out a large vial that definitely shouldn’t have fit in where she’d pulled it. The vial was empty and had a thin glass wall running down its center, splitting it in half.

“With this,” Esmerelda said. “Segmented vial.”

Arwin decided not to ask where she’d gotten the vial. “What’s it do?”

“Each half has a different potion,” Lillia guessed. “And when you fling it or drink it, they both activate at once.”

“Exactly,” Esmerelda said. “When you’ve got something too complex, you have to think outside the magic. Who needs the two potions to be the same one? Just throw the bottle harder and they’ll both activate at once. Good old fashioned logic works just as well.”

Arwin blinked.

Huh. Two different potions basically taped together? It sounds stupid, but it’s so simple it’s genius. But how can I do that with items?

They were all silent for several seconds.

Then Arwin’s eyes lit up. He spun back to his materials, searching through the components for a gemstone.

“Holy shit. Esmerelda, you’re a genius.”

“I know,” Esmerelda said. She hesitated for a second. “What did I do?”

“Gems,” Arwin said, plucking a clear crystal from the pile. “I normally use them like energy batteries in items.”

“Isn’t that still part of the item?” Lillia asked. “How will that make it any easier to make?”

“It won’t — but that’s only if I actually set the gemstone in the finished item,” Arwin said with a shake of his head. “Making a Set might help, but I don’t know how to control the set bonus, and that could ruin everything if it’s actually powerful or somehow helps Twelve in another way. But if I make two entirely separate items… a bracelet that shifts the wearer into the form of something set within it, and an item that contains the essence of a monster…”

“It’s much easier to make each of the pieces since they don’t need to influence each other. They exist independently and just work together when you choose to connect them,” Lillia finished, her eyes lighting up. “Can you do that?”

Arwin nodded. “Yes. That, I can do. I’m certain of it.”

“What about the monster you’re going to shift Twelve into?” Lillia asked. “Have you figured out what it will be? You’ll need a piece of it, I’d assume.”

He studied Lillia before slowly nodding. “Yes. I think I’ve got a pretty good idea of what might work. Would the two of you be willing to help me a little more?”

Esmerelda shrugged. “Sounds fun. I’m in.”

“You already know I am as well,” Lillia said. “I’ve finished the most important parts of my own preparation.”

“Perfect,” Arwin said. The Infernal Armory rumbled to life around them. Black veins pulsed with power along the floor and tendrils reached out, driving into his back and connecting him to the building. A determined smile pulling across his features. “Then let’s get to making this, shall we?”

***

Eight hours later, just as night started to set over the Menagerie’s street, the clang of metal within the Infernal Armory went silent.

Lillia and Esmerelda both leaned against the wall, exhaustion playing across their features and their bodies drained of magic.

Arwin wasn’t in much better shape. He leaned against his anvil, strength spent, breathing heavily and soaked with sweat. This was their third try, and Arwin didn’t think they had the strength for another in the time they had left. Two items — the results of all their efforts — sat within his hand.

The first was a bone white band. It was entirely plain and unadorned, aside from two fingers that twisted up from its top in preparation to hold onto something.

That something sat rested just beside the band in Arwin’s palm. A plain red gemstone trimmed on all sides with a band of Ivorin wrapped around it, sized perfectly to slot into the band.

With trembling fingers, Arwin plucked the gemstone from his palm and slipped it into the band. It snapped into place.

The results of all their efforts sat within his hand.

Arwin’s eyes traced through the words that shimmered to life in the air, visible only to him. He swallowed.

“Well?” Lillia asked in trepidation. “Did it work?”

Arwin’s fingers closed around the bracelet.

His gaze lowered to meet hers.

“It worked,” Arwin said quietly. Their preparations were finally over. The night was upon them, and they would all need their rest if they were to be prepared to survive what waited for them the following day. “Tomorrow, this all ends.”