Chapter 8: Dæmon Armor

Thaddeus and Brax rode into Ironwood just as the sky was starting to catch fire with the hues of sunset. When the prairie animals saw two Bearmen they were quickly paralyzed in fear. Only when they heard the loud screeching of fleeing birds did they awake and scamper away. Below Thaddeus heard the birds above cawing warning signs to unsuspecting animals. Yet, he ignored them, his only thoughts concerned forging his dæmon.

Soon they arrived at Ironwood. The dwarven gatekeepers were surprised when two Bearmen Warriors approached. If not for Vakdraen having briefed his soldiers beforehand, the soldiers would have taken their arrival as an act of aggression. Instead, the soldiers quickly granted the Bearkin entry and Thaddeus was escorted to a private dressing room to change. Only after the dwarven shield bearers saw Thaddeus in human form did they relax.

As they walked to the village, Thaddeus briefed Brax on his second settlement. "Ironwood is known for its vast mineral resources. The mine is rich in ore, mana stones, and precious gems."

"Never in all my life, have I seen a mine as grand as this one," Brax complimented.

As they trotted through the cobblestone streets, they passed by the miners coming back from their shifts, their faces smudged with dirt but glowing with the satisfaction of hard work. Ironwood was a rough but honest town; the labor was backbreaking, but it yielded rewards both tangible and intangible.

Hours later, they reached the town square, where a sizable crowd had gathered to witness their arrival. In front of the crowd, Thaddeus noticed Mayor Vakdraen was waiting to receive them. Thaddeus noticed Vakdraen's thick beard was woven with thick golden rings.

"Baron Brown, and Marshall Brax, welcome to Ironwood," Vakdraen greeted in his thick Scottish accent. "What can we do for you. ?"

Brax, extending a hand to the Mayor. "Thank you, Mayor Vakdraen. He's come to craft his dæmon."

"Armor, aye. That makes sense. Baron Brown, you're a Toolsmith. So, you came to learn Armorsmithing?" Vakdraen said rubbing his chin.

Thaddeus nodded.

Shouting to his citizens, Vakdraen shouted. "Baron Brown came here to learn dwarven Armorsmithing. He honors us by choosing our artisans for such a venerable task."

As a gesture of respect, I'll teach him myself."

The crowd clapped and cheered at the news. The dwarves were proud, their liege learned smithing from a dwarf. Now, they were proud Baron Brown came to them again to advance his smithing. To dwarves smithing was sacred. It was an honored tradition, and the best smiths were held in high status. For this reason, among others, the dwarves respected Thaddeus.

"Follow me to my smithy," Vakdraen said, leading the way.

Thaddeus followed Vakdraen through tunnels until he finally came to a castle. The subterranean castle was large and majestic.

"Is this the mayor's house?" Brax said in wonder.

"Vakdraen is a prince. This was his family's kingdom," Thaddeus explained.

"The day we fled, was a great shame to my family. If not for Thaddeus, my family would still have to live with that shame. I swore fealty to return to my home and rid my line of shame," Vakdraen explained.

As Vakdraen led them to his forge, Thaddeus marveled at the inside of the castle. He could tell the castle was once an ornate palace. The floors were marble, with gold and mithril adornments. But now there were broken columns, crumbling walls, and fallen ceiling tiles.

Eventually, they came to the smithy and Thaddeus gazed in amazement. Behind the smith, cascaded a lava waterfall.

"A magic forge?" Brax said in wonder.

"Aye, you have a good eye," Vakdraen praised.

"What's a magic forge?" Thaddeus asked.

"A magic forge can increase a user's affinities. The stronger a person's affinities, the stronger the item they can craft, imbuing that item with powers," Vakdraen lectured.

"Enchanting items?" Thaddeus said in amazement.

"Aye. The anvil gets imbued too as smiths craft different items. This was my family's anvil for generations. This ancient anvil is the oldest in the fallen kingdom. I can tell you that its enchanting ability is the strongest I've seen. It is an honor, for you, my friend, and liege to craft your dæmon armor on my family's forge," Vakdraen said, the sincerity evident in his voice.

"Thank you Vakdraen, I won't take this privilege for granted," Thaddeus said respectfully.

Soon the air in Ironwood was tinged with the scents of molten lava and burning metal. Thaddeus stood with a newfound excitement, ready to delve into the intricacies of dwarven armorsmithing. Vakdraen, with his years of experience, had an air of wisdom about him, and he began the lesson with a simple statement: "Making armor is not just about protection, Thaddeus. It's an art, a dance between the smith and the metal.

First things first, lad," Vakdraen began, pulling out parchment and a charcoal pencil. "We need to draft a design. Every warrior is unique, and so must be their armor." Thaddeus stood still as Vakdraen took meticulous measurements, ensuring that each piece would fit perfectly. He jotted down numbers and sketched out the basic design, explaining, "This is the blueprint of your protection, Baron. Every inch, every curve must be accounted for."

Thaddeus noted the similarities between measuring leather and armor. Unlike leather armor which measured for a snug fit, metal armor typically was looser around the chest but tighter around the neck and waist.

Next, Vakdraen led Thaddeus to a chamber filled with various metals. "For this lesson, steel is our choice for today. When you craft your dæmon armor, I suggest you use mithril. It is lighter and offers more resilience and malleability than steel," Vakdraen noted.

At the forge, Vakdraen heated the steel until it glowed a fiery red. "The soul of the armor is shaped here," he said, motioning Thaddeus to hammer the hot metal over a mold. The rhythmic pounding echoed in the smithy as Thaddeus, under Vakdraen's guidance, began to see the armor take shape. "But don't forget, strength comes from within," Vakdraen mused, preparing the quenching bath. After reheating the shaped pieces, he showed Thaddeus the magic of quenching, transforming the soft, malleable metal into a hardened protective shell.

Laying out the shaped pieces, Vakdraen explained the importance of joints and overlaps. "Your mobility is crucial. You must be protected but never restricted." With practiced hands, they began riveting the pieces together, ensuring each joint moved smoothly. Vakdraen handed Thaddeus a cloth and polishing compound. "A warrior's pride reflects in his armor's shine," he said with a grin.

Hours passed as Thaddeus buffed and polished each piece, bringing out a mirror-like finish. When he tried on the armor, he felt the weight and protection it offered. But he was happiest of all when he unlocked the armormithing skill.

Vakdraen observed, making small tweaks and adjustments. "Remember to pay extra attention to the joints as they are the most vulnerable. The last thing you want in battle is to be fumbling with loose armor," Vakdraen said, testing each strap's strength.

System Message

New Active Skill: Armorsmithing. At higher levels can forge mythical armor.

Stat Increase: +1 STR, +100 EXP

Level 1: Novice Level 1

Effect: Increased speed and accuracy of smithing

Cost: 10 STR/second

"The armor looks for a human, but a Bearkin warrior could tear through it with one swipe. Crafting your dæmon armor is not like forging a regular piece of armor. It is an act of co-creation between the wearer and the smith," Brax explained.

"Well, at least I picked up the skill. Now, I can craft my own," Thaddeus smiled. But before he could get started, he received another system message.

System Message:

Congratulations you earn a meta-skill: Toolsmith and Armorsmithing -----> Metalsmithing. Reward: +SP

"Hey Vakdraen, my Toolsmith and Armorsmithing skills merged into Metalsmithing. Was that supposed to happen?" Thaddeus asked, surprised.

Vakdraen smiled. "Of course, lad, what else did you think would happen? You're already a Toolsmith. Toolsmiths can smith just about anything except weapons. Before the other crafts arrived, you forged locks for the houses you built. You also forge horseshoes for your horses. To pick up Metalsmith, all you need to do is learn Toolsmith and Weaponsmith or Armorsmith.

"I thought you had to learn Coinsmith and Jewler to become a Metalsmith?" Thaddeus asked.

"Coinsmith and Jewelers are niche skills, so they really don't count towards earning Metalsmith."

"Oh, good to know."

Brax, who had been quietly observing the conversation, "Enough chitchatting, get started. To make your dæmon you need to polymorph. You'll need all your strength to make your armor."

Morphing into a bear, Thaddeus grabbed the hammer and inhaled. The air was tinged with the scent of molten lava and burning metal. He could smell roaring furnaces as he grabbed an ingot of mithril. The shine of mithril caught every ray of light before it entered the furnace.

At once, Thaddeus was immersed in the process of forging his armor. He felt every strike of the hammer as if it were beating against his chest, syncing with his heartbeat.

His plan for the plate armor was a layer of mithril reinforced by mithril chainmail underneath. He also planned to cover his elbow and knees with chainmail to increase flexibility, but his legs and forearms would be covered in plate armor. He planned to forge the best of both worlds. Ultimately, his dæmon would be a bodysuit. There would be a seamless transition of armor from his neck to the tail. This way the enchantment would synergize completely with his dæmon. However, that was easier said than done. much.

Despite his earlier success, crafting mithril armor in his Bearkin form proved to be challenging. The feel of the hammer felt off-balanced, and the rhythm of the hammering felt off-beat. His first attempt to craft armor was a complete disaster.

System Message:

You have failed to forge Mithril Armor! Your Armorsmithing has increased to 2. Reward: +1 SP

Yet, he persisted. Each time, he became more accustomed to the feeling of the hammer in his paws and the rhythm of his strikes. As a Bearman, his hammer strikes were stronger and more forceful, which caused him to be more detailed and considerate with each hit.

System Message:

You have failed to forge Mithril Armor! Your Armorsmithing has increased to 5. Reward: +3 SP

On and on the error messages, each skill level increased slowed the progression. Thaddeus continued to work until the world around him became a blur. In trance, Thaddeus heated, pounded, and quenched in routine. With every exhale he pounded the metal until it took shape. His heartbeat synced with each strike.

System Message:

You have failed to forge Mithril Armor! Your Armorsmithing has increased to 49. Reward: +1 SP

He continued until he reached Level 50. Thaddeus only awakened from his trance when he achieved his goal. Seeing the congratulatory message, Thaddeus looked around for the first time and noticed there was a crowd of spectators.

"Aye, congratulations," Vakdrean praised. "It's been centuries since I saw someone in a Soul Trance."

"Where did everyone come from? I thought it was just the three of us?" Thaddeus inquired.

Brax looked at Thaddeus proudly and smiled. "It's been five days."

"You've stood there without moving, eating, drinking. The Soul Trance is a religious experience, most dwarves have only heard in legends and history. To witness it is a treasure. Every dwarf here would offer you their hoard of gold, including me, to learn Soul Trance," Vakdraen explained.

"I guess I was lucky," Thaddeus guessed.

"Lucky? Lad, you must be blessed by a god to enter such a trance. I've seen dwarfs try their entire lives to enter a Soul Trance and never succeed. To a Soul Trance, is the greatest accomplishment of a dwarf's life," Vakdraen said astonished.

"It was all thanks to your mentorship Vakdraen," Thaddeus thanked graciously.

"Enough of that, tell us the stats!" Brax said excitedly.

Thaddeus quickly opened the notification and rattled off the armor's stats.

System Message:

Congratulations you have forged Enchanted Rare Mithril Bearkin Armor! Your Armorsmithing has increased to 55. Reward: +5 SP.

 Rare Mithril Dæmon

Level 50

+20 CON and HP Bonus (Last 1 hour/ Cool Down 5 hours)

Durability 50/50

"The level isn't high, but the constitution and healing bonuses are exceptional. Any warrior would benefit from a larger health pool and more stamina," congratulated Vakdraen.

"An hour is just long enough to end most battles too. But you'll need to be mindful of the cool down," Brax added.

Unlike active skills which cost attributes when you use them, enchanted weapons had cooldowns. After a certain time, enchantments would wear off, and could not be used again until the cool-down expired.

"Hurry lad, try it one!" Vakdraen encouraged.

As he donned his dæmon for the first time, Thaddeus felt an inexplicable surge of energy coursing through him. Every mold and curve of the armor felt like an extension of himself, an external manifestation of himself. It was as if he were encased not just in metal, but in an aura of impenetrable spiritual force.

'What do you think?' Thaddeus asked Brax and Vakdraen.

"The armor looks very fitting on you, but it's missing something" suggested Vakdraen.

"I planned to craft the helmet next," Thaddeus explained.

"No…I think you're missing a weapon. Here try this on for size," Vakdraen said handing Thaddeus an oversized mithril axe with dwarven runes.

"When did you make this?" Thaddeus asked in amazement. The axe was the most impressive craftsmanship he'd ever seen.

"This is Warden's Wraith.

Thaddeus felt grateful, not just for the armor that now clung to him like a second skin, but for the journey it represented—a journey toward self-discovery and a deeper connection with the world around him.

"As the Petty Lord of Woodhaerst and Ironwood," Thaddeus began, gripping the hilt of his sword over the newly forged armor, "I vow to honor this dæmon and the traditions it embodies. I shall carry its essence into every decision, every battle, and every act of governance."

With those words, he knew he had taken another step in the eternal journey of growth and understanding. And for the first time, he felt completely prepared for whatever challenges lay ahead.

As he donned the armor, a sudden rush of energy surged through him. The armor seemed to be alive, its essence intertwining with his. He felt an unprecedented bond with the natural elements around him, a connection deeper than anything he had ever felt. The ground beneath him seemed to pulse in rhythm with his heart, the air around him vibrating with energy.

Brax, watching in silent reverence, spoke, "Thaddeus, you wear the armor of a warrior, but you also carry the essence of the primal elements. You've become something more. A guardian, a protector."

Thaddeus looked at the reflection of himself in a polished shield. The armor fit him as if it were a second skin, molding every contour of his body. He then shifted his gaze to the newly forged "Warden's Wraith" lying beside him. Its edge, sharp and gleaming, promised protection and fury in equal measure.

He gripped the axe, feeling its weight perfectly balanced in his hand. It was then that he felt it—a pull, a beckoning from deep within. A voice, soft yet insistent, whispered, "*Warden*."

His vision blurred, and for a moment, he was transported to a realm where the earth, air, fire, and water converged. Elemental spirits circled him, their voices a chorus of ancient wisdom. They recognized him as one of their own, a bridge between their world and the mortal realm.

Returning from his phase, Thaddeus found himself kneeling, the weight of the revelation heavy on his shoulders. He was no longer just a warrior or a homesteader. He was a Warden, chosen by the primal elements themselves.

Mayor Vakdraen approached him, a look of respect evident in his eyes. "It's rare for someone to be chosen as a Warden. Ironwood hasn't seen one in generations. With this title comes great responsibility, Thaddeus. The elements have entrusted you with their power."

Brax placed a reassuring hand on Thaddeus's shoulder, "And we trust you to wield that power with honor. Together, we'll defend Ironwood and Woodhaerst from any threat."

Thaddeus rose, determination shining in his eyes. "I won't let you down," he declared, tightening his grip on "Warden's Wraith." As he stepped outside, the wind danced around him, leaves rustling in acknowledgment of the Warden's ascent.

The townsfolk of Ironwood gathered, cheering. Amidst the celebration, Thaddeus realized that this was just the beginning of his journey. With newfound power and purpose, he was ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead in the vast world of Heaven's Gate.