It was fascinating, and he hoped this was a legitimate offer. Maybe he could learn how it all worked and apply it to The Labyrinth.
“No matter what happens, we should leave after this,” Adriana said. “Hopefully we will have what we came here for, but another fight will draw unwanted attention.”
“Normally I would suggest you stay and kill the dungeon lord — or lady, in this case,” Cassia said, “but so long as we get something out of this, we can always come back later.”
“Why would I even kill the dungeon lady to begin with?” he asked. “She’s treating her minions like shit, sure, but if we take them with us, we’re at least thwarting her plans.”
“Do you really think she cannot just hatch out more snakekin?” Cassia asked. “If she is having the males attend to her often enough, she probably has a clutch ready to go already.”
Keaton blanched at that. “So she’s their… mother?”
“It is possible,” Adriana said. “Dungeon lords have few moral scruples, and it does not sound like she cares whether her children are worked to the bone or not.”
A full-body shudder overcame him. It was bad enough when he thought they were just minions brought in from elsewhere. To think of her treating her own children like this was revolting. Especially if some of the males were—
Yeah, okay. Just not going to think about it.
He was saved even from the possibility as the sound of hard scales scraping over the grates grew closer. Keaton’s fingers closed tightly around the hilt of his newly acquired scimitar, yet the snakekin appeared as promised.
Unarmed. All three of them. Two males, and the female who’d led them here. Keaton’s grip on his sword eased, even if Cassia still had her halberd in a death grip.
“Vrishta sssspeaks the truth, masssster,” one of them said, ducking his head low. He seemed much older than the other two. “We wish to be free of thisss place. Pleassse, name your price and we will pay it.”
“I’m not keeping you here,” Keaton said. “You’re free to go, so long as you don’t hurt me or any of the people with me.”
“You do not undersssstand,” the younger male said. “We wish to join you. To become memberssss of your dungeon and sssserve you.”
“Why would you—” He caught Adriana’s look out of the corner of his eyes and stopped himself. “Ah. The crystal.”
“We cannot ssssurvive without it.”
“Well, we came here looking for more help,” Keaton reasoned. “Are you two blacksmiths?”
“Yesss,” the older male said. “My sssson specializesss in weapons, and I ssspecialize in armor.”
A father and son blacksmithing team sounded especially handy. Keaton looked to Cassia, Adriana, and Orbon, though.
“What do you all think?” he asked.
“They would be able to make much better weapons and armor than what The Labyrinth can currently supply,” Adriana said. “And they will be very loyal if you rescue them from this place.”
“Give goblins chance to do something else. We not made for smithing.”
He was beginning to think goblins weren’t made for much of anything, since they’d protested building, too. Then again, Orbon had made a pretty impressive stew.
“Cassia?” he asked, looking to her.
She was looking past him, at the snakekin. “I cannot deny it would be useful to have better arms, but if they step out of line…”
“Then I’m sure you’ll deal with it,” he told her, offering a nod.
She nodded back. “I will.” That didn’t seem to satisfy her fully, though. She added, “Let’s see this forge first, as well. I want to see if their work is as good as they claim.”
“We will gladly show you,” the older snakekin said. “Pleassse, come with us.”
Keaton followed, confident in the fact that his minions could take care of any danger. He didn’t have the innate sense of his days being numbered, though. And when he stepped into the forge, the only thing he felt was that sweltering heat that seemed to distort his vision so bad he viewed everything through wavy lines.
“If you would like to hold a few itemsss, massster,” the son said, offering a scimitar to him.
Keaton held out his hand on instinct and accepted the blade before realizing he was meant to do more than just look at it. He concentrated, running the fingers of his gauntlet around it. Slowly — more slowly than he was happy with — he could feel the information being drawn into his mind.
Source of Anima: Iron.
An understanding of “Iron Scimitar” is now available to all forges.
He repeated the process with a flail and a ritual dagger, learning how to make both of them respectively. As his mind worked over the problem, he took some time to look at his surroundings.
The forge was massive, with heat definitely seeming to draw up from the ground to help the process. There were three workstations with two separate anvils, and a rack that rotated of its own volition, likely giving the items placed upon it a chance to cool and harden without such a drastic shift from superheated metal to cold bath.
It gave him plenty of ideas, and to his surprise, Keaton received a third message scrawled inside his mind:
An understanding of “Iron Flail” is now available to all forges.
An understanding of “Iron Dagger” is now available to all forges.
The blueprint for “Advanced Forge” is available in The Labyrinth.
“Huh,” he mused aloud. “That’s handy. I just had an idea for how we can build the same kind of forge at The Labyrinth.”
And he was eager to try it out, but they were still keen on showing him things, apparently. The father approached, holding up that diamond patterned scale armor. That Keaton definitely was interested in.
“Thisss is the pride of our kind. Only we can make it,” he said with a smile, the flat of his hand smoothing over the shimmering scales. “I have ssstudied a lifetime and ssstill I am perfecting it. Pleassse. Try it on.”
He held out the scale shirt eagerly, and Keaton was all too happy to accept. It was a bit awkward to slip on over his current armor — he’d have to exchange it back at the dungeon — but it still conformed snugly to him, offering a layer of protection he’d never felt before. Tight enough to feel like it would deflect blades and arrows, but still able to move as he did. He tested out that theory, moving his arms, puffing his chest out and relaxing it again.
“This stuff is amazing,” he said, voice filled with awe. “And you can make more of this?”
“Only I can, yesss.”
Keaton met the older male’s gaze. As deferential as he’d been, there was a cunning there. This one was smart, and definitely wise enough to know what he needed to do to save his own skin.
Pulling off the scale shirt — a lot more difficult than putting it on — he held it in his hands and concentrated. Nothing happened.
“Is that why I can’t understand its essence?”
He already knew the answer, but the snakekin nodded.
“I will make armor for your armiesss, massster. I will supply you with scalesss from my own flesh if you wish it. But I refussse to see my sssson subjected to the whimsss of our mistresss.”
His tone had changed. Before, he seemed almost frail. Just an old craftsman trying to get by. Now, it was clear to Keaton there was a strength in him — at least as far as protecting his son was concerned. It was something he could respect, and though he had no children of his own, he imagined he would have felt the same.
“Then you two will come back to The Labyrinth with us and help us build a forge, then you’ll get to work on weapons and armor. I’ll keep you fed, give you a place to sleep, and I’ll pay you as soon as I can. Deal?”