The next morning I woke up at the usual time, but when I attempted to get started on my usual chores, father stopped me with a gesture. "Don't worry about that, Kvalinn. Today you will be accompanying Zikruk to socialize." Father almost gagged in disgust and revulsion on the word socialize. Apparently he was no fonder of the act of socialization then I was. "Wash yourself up and prepare gifts in case you meet anyone you need to make a good impression on."
"Gifts?" I asked. "What type of gifts should I give?"
"Depending on the person, either something small and token, or something more substantial. Customers get the former, and Elders get the latter." Father then began working on the chores I normally did. Pointedly refusing to elaborate.
I began thinking of what gifts I could feasibly give. I didn't have any money, and most of my practice weapons that I had made up until now had been scrapped so that the materials wouldn't be wasted.
Maybe I could bake something? In my previous life I had been a relatively good amateur baker. So after washing up, I went to the pantry to hunt for ingredients. Unfortunately, the results were extremely disappointing. There was no baking powder, baking soda, sugar, and barely any flour. Eventually though, I was able to cobble together a rather tasty oatmeal cookie recipe and bake it over the forge fire.
"Father, will I be able to use these as gifts?" I passed a couple cookies over to him to gauge his reaction. From the crunching sounds, the cookies were likely a bit harder than they should have, but compared to the hard bread we had every day they were much easier on the teeth.
"Hmm" Father didn't say anything, but he ate the other cookie so it at least wasn't terrible to dwarven palates. "Not bad, probably would go better with beer though. Give those to your friends, save weapons for potential customers and the Elders."
I nodded quickly and put all the cookies I had made in the lunch tin that was my only successful attempt at creating 21st century tech. It was a small tin box with a tight fitting lid, but it was better than just a cloth bag for food storage. I also packed the few daggers that had passed my father's inspection and were deemed sellable, as well as the dagger I was going to finish at the youth center.
Just after we finished eating breakfast, Aundarord showed up with his son in tow. Instead of giving his normal relaxed greeting that he usually gave my father, he stopped just inside the door and turned to his son.
"Alright, Zikruk. I'm going to demonstrate the formal greeting a merchant gives to a goods producer when meeting for the first time, watch closely and then give it to Kvalinn." Aundarord then took his hammer and held it out horizontally to the ground towards my father, and gave a well practiced greeting.
"Greetings, Master Smith Ekgor. I am Aundarord Silverbasher of the merchant clan. May the ancestors see fit that our future collaborations bring profit and honor to both our clans." Father took his hammer and repeated the gesture, and while the greeting he gave was slightly less practiced, it was no less formal.
"Greetings, Aundarord Silverbasher of the merchant clan. The teachings of the ancestors run through my veins to craft the finest weapons for you to sell. May the ancestors ensure that we act with honor in our future endeavors."
Both fathers then looked to their offspring to repeat the greeting that they had demonstrated. Since Zikruk was from the merchant clan, he went first. He was just a bit shorter than me, with neatly trimmed brown hair and brown eyes that looked at me as if going over a check list for future profits. Holding out his brand new and purely decorative hammer, he began in a nervous tone.
"G-greetings, Master Smith Kvalinn. I am Zikruk Aundarordsson of the merchant clan. M-may the ancestors see fit that our future collaborations bring… Profit and honor to both our clans." Zikruk's greeting was a bit awkward, and he stumbled over some of it. But his father patted him on the back in affirmation anyway. I held up my well worn hammer smithing hammer and returned his greeting.
"Greetings, Zikruk Aundarordsson of the Merchant clan. The teachings of the ancestors run through my veins to craft the finest weapons for you to sell. May the ancestors ensure that we act with honor in our future endeavors." The last line was basically a warning to both parties that crafting sub standard weapons, or ripping off the crafter with unfair prices, would be seen as a grave offense with both clans and the offender would receive punishment from the clans.
"Well done, both of you." Aundarord smiled at me and Zikruk proudly. "Now that you have gone through the formal introductions, you can be a little less stiff when interacting. You can even develop a friendship if you get along well. Just be wary of letting your friendship interfere with business."
"Yes, father."
"Yes, sir."
"Zikruk, would you mind leading Kvalinn to the youth center? As I told you on the way here, he's devoted himself entirely to learning his father's craft and hasn't even been outside his house yet."
It struck me that I indeed hadn't left my house for the five years of my life so far. I'd been kept so busy every day with work, studies, or my attempts at creating tech, that any thoughts of leaving the house hadn't occurred to me. Good thing I hadn't invented a car yet, otherwise its battery would have died years ago.
Freed from the restraints of formality, Zikruk looked at me like I was a fascinating and never seen before bug. "Seriously? You haven't even left the house to get food or bring in water?"
I could only shrug, slightly embarrassed. "No, father has someone bring in food and water for us so that we can focus on our work. He says that any time not spent working is time wasted."
Zikruk looked at me, then glanced at his father questioningly, before looking back at me as if asking if I was serious. Aundarord laughed in amusement at his son's befuddlement.
"It's not just you who thinks it's crazy, son. Ekgor has been like this for over a century, so it's no surprise that he'd train his offspring to follow his workaholic ways."
"Workaholic!?" Father shouted, his beard bristling in indignation.
"Ekgor, what else would you call someone who stays in his work area for 9/10ths of the day, and only leaves for a solitary mug of beer at the tavern before returning to work?" Aundarord asked with a smile that was equal parts amused and exasperated.
"I'd call that person a true dwarf dedicated to perfecting his craft! You know as well as I, that if other smiths in this town worked like I and Kvalinn do, then you'd have a lot better products to sell throughout the mountain! And that the Zaihanians to the north and the Empire to the south wouldn't pose a threat."
As father was beginning his tirade, Aundarord glanced over at Zikruk and gave him a stealthy wink. Zikruk seemed to understand and grabbed my wrist to start pulling me towards the door.
"C'mon." Zikruk said quietly. "That's the signal Father gives when he knows it's going to be a long negotiation. We should leave before our fathers get down to business and things get really boring."
Zikruk led me to the door where I hesitated for a moment. I had spent the last five years of my life in this house without ever bothering to think what was outside this door. Would I be alright in a world that might kill me if it discovered the secret of my runes? Would I be able to survive in a world that was roughly in the middle ages technology wise? Sadly, I was not given time to contemplate these questions because Zikruk abruptly pulled me out the door.
"Hurry up! We're gonna be late for the games!" Zikruk said as he rushed down the streets, half pulling me along to the youth center.
"Games?" I asked while struggling to keep up. My training thus far in this life had been entirely focused on the upper body so my running muscles were sorely neglected, fortunately dwarves are natural sprinters, very dangerous over short distances. "What games do they play at the youth center?"
"Mostly they play shield wall, but I've seen them play other games like dodgeball, and they have tournaments with practice weapons. The winner gets to eat a piece of candy imported from a human town!"
"Is the candy good?" I didn't want to win if the prize was a piece of black licorice or something equally nasty.
"I don't know." Zikruk responded. "I wasn't old enough to play when I watched the games before. But now that we are five, we can participate in the tournament and win the candy! Just think of how much we can sell it for!"
"Wait. So you'd sell it rather than eat it?"
"Of course! A merchant's duty in life is to bring what is wanted to those who want it all while lining your own pockets." Zikruk seemed to think that was the most obvious answer in the world. Evidently his father wasn't too far behind mine in training the next generation.
Eventually we arrived at the youth center. It was a rather plain building, but very large, I found out later that it had been a warehouse that was renovated for public use. And like every other building I'd seen in the city so far, it was made from solid stone, as if it were carved directly from the mountain.
An older teen boy stopped us at the entrance with a polite smile. "Welcome to the Vonur youth center. Is it your first ti- ah, it's you Zikruk. I guess you are finally old enough to train here. Who's your friend? Is he at least five winters old?"
Zikruk nodded confidently. "Yep! Kvalinn was born the same year as me so he's old enough to play too."
"Alright, since both of you are going to be first years in school. Go join that group over there and Elder Threrburk will explain the rules to all of you in a minute." The teen gestured towards a small group of kids who appeared to be five as well. After thanking him, we went to join the group.
In the group, we were greeted by several of Zikruk's playmates. He spent the next several minutes introducing me to his friends and telling them about how I hadn't left my house until today. Needless to say, they all reacted the same way he had and asked me lots of questions.
"Silence. Now!" A booming stentorian voice cut through our childish chatter and startled us into a dead silence. Looking towards the source of the shout, I saw an old dwarf whose white braided beard stretched down to his knees and was decorated with a few gold ornaments. After glaring at each of us in turn, daring us to make a sound, he introduced himself in a gruff voice.
"I am Elder Threrburk of the warrior clan. I have been appointed by Thane Throdhengrun to monitor this experimental youth center. Here I will train you in combat, warfare, and interacting with your peers. It is the hope of the Thane that this place will help develop you beardless youths into warriors that he can call upon when King Thralgrorlum sounds the war horns to defend the mountain."
Elder Threrburk noticed me in the middle of the group of kids. He pointed at me with his hammer and bellowed an order. "You! Come forward and introduce yourself. I have not seen you here before."
I found out later that the youth center had been open for about a year by now, and Elder Threrburk had seen every kid in the group visit aside from me. So he was more than a little suspicious of me showing up seemingly out of thin air.
Making my way through the rows of children to the front of the group, I mentally crossed my fingers and attempted to give the appropriate greeting for an Elder.
"Greedings, Elder Threrburk. I am Kvalinn Ekgorsson of the Weapon clan. May you see fit to impart the wisdom of my ancestors so that I might follow in their footsteps." I nervously held my breath, hoping that I hadn't messed up my introduction.
Calling someone an Elder here didn't just mean that they were old, it meant that they were at least two hundred and fifty years old and were recognized by the king as masters of their craft. Offending an Elder, even accidentally, could have dire consequences for the offender and their family.
After a few seconds of me waiting on pins, Elder Threrburk grunted in acknowledgement. "Well said, Kvalinn Ekgorsson. Your father at least taught you to keep a civil tongue. I understand now why I have not seen you before. Your father prefers to remain by his forge and has doubtless passed that habit to you. Hopefully you will not adhere to his strict lifestyle so rigorously."
The 'strict lifestyle' was definitely more my speed than going out to socialize, but sensing that saying so would be the incorrect answer I did my best to bluff. "No, Sir. I plan on coming here often to train under your supervision."
"Hmph, it should be interesting to see what Ekgor's offspring is capable of, Ekgor's weapons are always top notch." Elder Threreburk dismissed me with a nod and I faded back into the group. He then began giving us a tour of the youth center. Pointing at the various activities as he listed them.
"Over here we have a wide selection of weighted practice weapons. Do not use excessively weighted weapons just to impress friends or members of the opposite sex. Dealing with back injuries sustained in childhood for several centuries is a grim fate. Anyone caught wielding weapons unsafely will be forced to polish the weapons to a shine."
Looking at the area indicated, I could see a huge variety of medieval weapons of all shapes and sizes. There were also a couple of kids sitting in a corner, glumly polishing the weapons. Evidently they hadn't listened to Elder Threrburk's warning and were paying the price.
"In the corner over there," Elder Threburk continued, "we have a few refreshments. Be sure to pay attention to which barrel you take beer from. The stronger beers would be deadly for you at your age. And finally, we have a forge fire with several anvils you can use. As you are first years, do not attempt to use them unless a fifth year or higher is supervising you."
As soon as I saw the forge area, I knew where I'd be spending most of my time when I was forced to come here to socialize. Despite crafting weapons every day for work, I had absolutely no interest in learning how to fight with them. My attempt to sneak out of the tour to get a closer look at the forge was noticed by our guide.
"Kvalinn Ekgorsson!" Rumbled the angry voice of Elder Threrburke. "Where do you think you are going? I have not dismissed the first year students yet."
"I was just going over to the forges to finish a project?" I tried to give a confident answer and a grin, but the furrowed brow and glaring eyes of the indignant Elder forced my voice lower and lower until it was barely a whisper. Several seconds of silence passed, each one feeling like an hour under his gaze.
"So. You want to finish a project?" I silently nodded to the Elder's rhetorical question. "In that case, you can finish your project in a game of shieldwall." He then turned to the other first year students. "Everyone aside from Kvalinn, go retrieve a practice weapon and a shield, and gather in the corner over there."
Elder Threrburk then motioned to one of the older kids who seemed to be acting as his assistant. "Bifor, separate an anvil from the group for a game of shieldwall and gather some fifth year students to be their opponents."
A few minutes later, all of my fellow first year students returned holding various weapons and shields. Some of them looked comfortable and familiar with their weapons, while others were stuck desperately trying not to hurt themselves or others with theirs. When everyone was in a group again, Elder Threrburk began explaining the rules of the game.
"Shieldwall is a game that we in the warrior clan have played for centuries to prepare for the battlefield. The rules are simple. You will be arranged in a line with Kvalinn behind you. Your opponents will try to break through your line to get to Kvalinn. If your opponents manage to break through the line and reach Kvalinn before he finishes his 'project' then you lose. If you somehow manage to hold them off until Kvalinn finishes, then you win. Losers have to stay and clean after everyone leaves. Prepare yourselves to fight."
Threrburk then left us first years to prepare, while he went to talk to our opponents. I found out later that the actual rules of shield wall had you protect a person who would pretend to be the king or thane. Elder Threreburk just tacked on the condition that I had to finish my project before the other team won to teach me to never leave while an Elder is speaking.
Every single first year student, Zikruk included, were glaring at me in annoyance for netting them an almost certain punishment cleaning duty on their first day.
"Kvalinn, please tell me that the project you are working on won't take more than a few minutes. Otherwise we're toast." Zikruk looked at me with hopeful eyes. Unfortunately I wasn't able to give a good response.
"I still have at least an hour's worth of work complete, maybe a half hour if I rush several steps and settle for a subpar knife." My attempt at compromise was met with a firm refusal.
"No! Don't settle for subpar!" Zikruk grabbed my shoulders and started shaking me, or trying to at least. My three years in front of the forge had left my tiny body extremely well muscled. "It's bad enough that you negatively caught the attention of Elder Threrburk, but showing him anything less than your best would make it so much worse for your reputation! So don't make a subpar knife!"
"Ok! I got it! I won't make my work subpar!" I pried the desperate Zikruk off me and began mentally going over what I still needed to do for the knife.
While I was thinking, Elder Threrburk walked over to our group again and with a long and protracted sigh he began organizing us. "Didn't I tell you to prepare for battle!? Khuder, you are now the right flank. Thrigzeg, you are the left flank. Everyone else, get in a line between them. Kvalinn, take your place before the forge, but do not start until I say so."
Elder Threrburk spent the next ten minutes physically wrangling the kids into position. And as any childcare worker or mom can tell you, getting kids to do something specific is like herding cats. He'd give instructions to one kid on holding their weapon, move another kid's shield into position, scold another for messing around with their playmate, and dealt with all the usual petty complaints that children have.
Eventually, the line of weapon bearing kids was ready to play defense. Or at least as ready as they could be without training. Zikruk's estimate of them lasting five minutes was looking more and more like wishful thinking, as they struggled to even hold up their weapons and shields. Although the kids from the Warrior Clan, and one girl from the Shepherd Clan, looked moderately familiar with their weapons. Like T ball players swinging a baseball bat.
Stepping between the two teams, Elder Threrburk reiterated the rules for both teams of kids. "First years, you will be working together to stop your opponents from getting past you. But if you drop your weapons, or are dealt a blow that would normally be fatal, then you're out. The weapons are dulled but getting hit will still be painful. Fifth years, I want to see the new students in action so don't defeat them immediately, give them a half hour and then finish them."
Once he verified that all the students involved understood their roles, Elder Threrburk held up his hammer like a race flag for a moment before banging it down on a nearby anvil and bellowing. "Begin the game!"
The fifth years ambled over to the first year defenders and attacked them in a very relaxed manner. They seemed to be treating it like warm up exercises rather than a mock battle, while the first years fought with all their strength and tenacity. However, as five year old kids, their strength was laughable when compared to their ten year old opponents.
Sensing with all the instincts of a long-time strategy gamer that my defensive line was weaker than a cobweb, I decided to add just a bit of magic from my rune to rush the crafting. Over the past couple years I had learned how to adjust how much magic went into my rune of forging to create what I wanted. Back then it was the only way I could make an, admittedly non functional, lightbulb without it exploding.
A few minutes after I began working, Elder Threrburk yelled out an instruction to me. "Kvalinn! Sing a forge song. It will encourage your comrades and speed up your own work."
Forge songs were simple and repetitive chants that had a strong beat. Father often sung them while working on projects that took an extremely long time, or that required exact timing from his hammer blows.
Taking the Elder's advice, I quickly ran through the list of songs I knew so far and began singing. But instead of creating the encouraging effect that Elder Threrburk was hoping for, my song just caused everyone to laugh. Because the only one I knew by heart was about a dwarves' love of beer and hatred of all other beverages.
"Not exactly a traditional song sung during a battle, but since it's your first day I'll let it slide. Fifth year students, stop laughing and resume the attack!" Elder Thereburk seemed to be suppressing a laugh himself, but did his best to make sure the older kids kept up the attack.
Despite the fifth year students going easy on us first years, the defensive line protecting me was quickly dropping. Some were kicked from the game by being knocked out by the practice weapons, others ran out of strength and collapsed panting for breath, and one girl was pulled from the game for being too aggressive with her weapon. Needless to say, I was under a lot of pressure.
I hammered away at the hot metal while singing the forge song, but as I sang the last note in the song, I felt a sharp pain along my rune of forging. It was even more intense than what occurred when I was using magic to craft an otherworldly item or a weapon. Before my eyes, I saw rune lines carve themselves in the now finished dagger.
"Finished!" I yelled out in victory.
Looking around, I realized that I had finished just in time. The defenders were down to their last three students. One of them was the overly aggressive girl who had been pulled earlier, apparently she had challenged the Elder and had gotten put back in the game.
"Finished already?" Elder Threrburk raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Let me inspect it, and if I find you have either not finished it, or done a shoddy job, then you will be cleaning this place by yourself for a week."
With a respectful nod, I handed Elder Threrburk the dagger. He took it with experienced hands and began scrutinizing it with the eyes of a hardened warrior. Examining the heft, the balance, the grip, and finally the edge.
"Ancestors beard." He muttered to himself. "I don't know if it was luck, or the gods playing tricks, but the lad somehow managed to add a magic rune to his weapon in a half hour! Let's see, it appears to be the rune of… Beer?"
Elder Therburk cleared his throat and glared down at me with a mix of curiosity and distrust. "Kvalinn, I will need to hold onto this dagger for now. If I need to confiscate it then you will be compensated accordingly."
"Wait a minute! Did we win?" I asked in a panic. I didn't really care about the dagger but I definitely did not want to get all the first years mad at me by forcing them to clean this giant hall.
"Hm? Oh right, the game." Elder Threrburk had gotten lost in thought as he gazed at the dagger, and my question didn't really change that. "Yes, the first year students win, you don't have to clean the youth center, now go do whatever." The Elder then wandered off, his zoned out eyes indicated that he was deep in thought.
"You did it, Kvalinn! You won the game!" Zikruk excitedly patted me on the shoulder. He had been eliminated early in the game and had been forced to watch from the sidelines. "I don't think I've ever seen first years win a game of shieldwall against older opponents before! Watching you work was amazing!"
The other students came forward with their own congratulations and thanks, even our former opponents, the fifth years, congratulated me.
"Thanks for not getting us stuck with cleaning duty, Kvalinn"
"Awesome job!"
"Not bad for your first game, little one."
That last comment was a little unwarranted, since the kid who said it was only a foot taller than me. But since I was only two feet tall I couldn't complain too much.
To celebrate our victory, I opened my tin of cookies and shared it with the group. It was surprisingly popular, especially among the girls who enjoyed the sweetness, even though it was just made with honey instead of sugar. Most of them agreed with my father and said that they would go better with beer.
The girl from the Shepherd Clan who had been kicked out of the game earlier walked up to me when I had finished giving the recipe to someone from the baking clan. She had bright and eager eyes, with long chestnut hair that was arranged in a cute looking braid down her back.
"Hey, Kvalinn. Can you make me a weapon too? All I have in this town is my hammer." I was a little surprised that she didn't use any of the ceremonial greetings that I had been forced to memorize, but my yankee money making senses were yelling at me to ignore the slight and just make a deal.
Before I could proudly accept my first commission though, Elder Threrburk bellowed from across the hall at her. "Bekhi Mubrimssdottir! Even a surface dwarf such as yourself should know that informality of that level is only acceptable among humans and halflings! Zikruk, teach her the proper greetings before she offends someone irrevocably at school, and make sure Kvalinn doesn't sell her a weapon until I have finished examining this." He then moved to instruct some other kids in their training and left Zikruk to teach her the long greetings I had learned the other day.
Zikruk grimaced and looked like he was swallowing the urge to say something mean to the girl, but held his tongue as he followed the Elder's instruction. Taking out his hammer, he gave the formal introduction with the tone of voice that you would take teaching an extremely stupid person..
"Greetings, Bekhi Mubrimssdottir. I am Zikruk Aundarordsson of the Merchant clan. May the ancestors see fit that our endeavors together meet with honor and profit." Zikruk lowered his hammer and put it away with a sigh. "That's the correct way of giving a greeting to someone you don't know personally but know their name."
"Great!" Bekhi's face looked slightly hurt by Zikruk's tone, but reached for her hammer so that she could imitate the greeting. But since I didn't want to hear yet another long and boring greeting, I raised my hand to stop her.
"That won't be necessary. Thanks to Elder Threrburk I know your name, and you know mine. Now, let's talk weapons. I can only make daggers so far but they are of fairly decent quality." I would have continued my sales pitch but Zikruk hastily covered my mouth.
"Kvalinn stop!" He then glared at Bekhi. "Dwarves from craftsmen clans are not allowed to sell their work until they have been given permission from their clan."
"Aww! So I can't get Kvalinn to make me a weapon?"
"No. Not for another twenty five years at minimum!" Thirty was the age when a dwarf was considered an adult, and could conduct business deals.
The disappointment on Bekhi's face was palpable. Evidently she really wanted me to make her a weapon. Eventually I managed to pry Zikruks hand off my mouth to ask him a question.
"Hey, Zikruk. You said I wouldn't be able to sell my work until I had permission from my clan, but what about trading for it?"
Zikruk was caught off guard by my question, but once he recovered himself he began thinking it over. "Hmm, it's not strictly forbidden in the book of laws, so that orphaned dwarves can trade for food to survive. But it's also not exactly looked well upon. If you're serious about this Kvalinn, then I'd recommend an under the table deal. Facilitated of course by your future exclusive merchant." He gestured to himself with a flourish that looked severely out of place among five year old kids. But Neither Bekhi nor I laughed, I'd get to make my first weapon for commercial use, Bekhi was getting a weapon she wanted, and Zikruk would get a promise from me to sign with him to be my exclusive merchant. Everyone was happy with that deal. Although to be safe, we'd wait until Elder Threreburk finished examining the runed weapon I had made earlier. Disobeying an Elder was not a good idea.
"I have to head home to help with chores in a bit," Zikruk said, "but we can arrange the details of the deal at school next week."
"Ok! I'll look through what I brought from home and see what can be traded. Bye, Kvalinn!" With a cheerful smile and wave, Bekhi left the youth center and raced down the street.
Zikruk looked at me oddly as I returned the wave. "Kvalinn, you realize she's a surface dwarf, right? There's no need to be so polite. I'll bet she's just here to marry into a clan that her parents want connections to."
"Does it matter where she's from?" I said absentmindedly. "A sale is a sale. Besides, she seemed nice enough."
Not having anything to say to that, Zikruk gazed at me curiously for a few minutes before another game of shieldwall was announced and we joined in. This time I had to fight with my hammer and I realized very quickly that the TV and anime I had seen in my previous life were completely worthless as teaching aids.
We kept playing and practicing until lunch time. After lunch concluded though, all the fifth years and below were kicked from the youth hall. Apparently they didn't want parents complaining about kids not helping at home, and the training involved for the older students became substantially more dangerous in the afternoon and they didn't want the smaller kids getting hurt.
"Welcome back, Kvalinn. Hurry and get to your station, I need your help getting an order of knives ready for Aundarord by next week. Did you finish the one you brought to the youth center?"
At home, Father was busy working as usual at the forge, hammering away at the latest order. I put my bag in the corner and prepared to join him.
"It was a lot of fun out there, but unfortunately we can't use the dagger I was working on. The Elder in charge took it."
My comment caused my father's hammer to pause midswing, and his voice became dark and worried. "Why would an Elder take interest in a dagger forged by a beardless youth? Tell me you didn't show off your rune!"
"I didn't!" I almost shouted to protest my innocence. That seemed to assure father a little, so I took a deep breath and continued. "We played a game called shieldwall and the Elder gave me a half hour to finish my dagger before declaring the other kids winners. So I put just a little magic into the weapon to speed up the work. But instead of just creating the dagger I wanted, a rune appeared on the knife that I didn't carve."
"Ancestors' beard. This could mean trouble." Father gave a tired sigh and put down his hammer. "Did the Elder say what the rune was? If it turns out to be a major class, or, ancestors forbid, a disaster class rune, then our secret is as good as known."
"Umm, Elder Threrburk said it was the rune of beer. Is that important?" I had instinctively reached to cover my right hand, the one bearing the rune of forging. I didn't want to be homeless at five years old!
"The rune of beer?" Fathers voice had shifted from dark and ominous to surprised so quickly that it nearly gave me whiplash. "Is the rune that appeared?" He took a piece of wood and charcoal and sketched out the rune. It frankly looked like a mix of Japanese Kanji and Norse letters.
I quickly nodded when I saw it. "Yes, that's the rune."
"Interesting, I've never once had anyone ask to have this rune carved on their weapons, or encountered a magic weapon with this rune. So I have no idea what the effects of the rune would be. Here, use this and show me exactly what you did at the youth center."
Father set a small dagger that was around eighty percent finished on my station, then grabbed a shield that he used for testing purposes and braced himself behind it.
I attempted to follow the same exact steps I had done before, putting in a little magic from my rune and singing the silly beer song. It felt a bit odd working while father was behind a shield, but he had mentioned offhandedly before that rune crafting was extremely dangerous so he was probably just being cautious.
Just like at the youth center, when I sang the last note of the song, I felt my rune activate with a burning sensation and the rune of beer carved itself in the dagger.
"It's finished, father." I quenched the knife in water and put it on his station. "It should do the same thing as the other dagger I made."
"It's done? Where's the boom? The destructive explosion that legends say accompany the crafting of a rune." Father peeked out behind his shield to curiously look at the dagger sitting in front of him. "Interesting, it's definitely the rune of beer. Now what does it do?"
He swung the dagger experimentally a few times, tested it against the shield, and poked tonight's dinner meat with it. But it didn't seem to do anything out of the ordinary for a normal dagger. Finally, father tested the edge and cut himself with the weapon.
"Aah, so that's what it does." Father nodded in understanding before enlightening me. "It would seem that this rune has the power to make people feel drunk. It feels like I *hic* just drank from a cask of *hic* XXXX beer. Maybe even XXXXX beer. Straight from the *hic* king's cellar."
I reached for the dagger in awe. Was it really that powerful? Father instantly sobered and bellowed at me before I could touch it though.
"Stop! Don't touch that dagger! If you were to so much as scratch yourself then it would be a death sentence! You'd need to be at least a hundred, maybe two hundred, years old before you can safely consume beer that strong. I can see now why the Elder was so concerned about the weapon you crafted at the youth center."
Father grabbed an iron box that he normally used for lunch and shoved the dagger inside. "I'll talk to Aundarord about how to safely sell or dispose of this later. If we can sell it, then it will likely fetch a rather nice price. Runed weapons are rare, and usually very powerful, although I'm not sure how much people will pay for a dagger with the rune of beer."
Both of us looked at the box containing the dagger with uncertain expectations. If it sold for a lot, then father would likely spend the money on some high class beer for himself, and tasty food for me. Although we ended up keeping the dagger. The few pokes that father had given to tonight's dinner meat, which was a cheap cut of smoked beef, magically made the beef taste like it had been marinated in beer for a week, and made our future dinners very flavorful. Eventually, father shook himself from his daydreams.
"Alright, that's enough talk. Like I said earlier we need to get to work on the knives for the order. Get to work on shaping the daggers Kvalinn and I'll finish them. Make sure you do not add any runes, or use any magic. Actually, wait a minute." Just as I was about to start working on the daggers, Father pulled out a large box and plopped it beside me. "I had some time to kill while you were at the youth center so I made some crossbow bolt points for an open government contract. Practice controlling your magic on them, and maybe the Thane will pay better if they have magic."
I looked down at the large box containing the arrow heads. There must have been at least a thousand of them! And this was done in his 'time to kill'! I evidently had a long way to go before I reached his level of craftsmanship.
Picking up the first arrowhead, I began experimenting with the forge song and the amount of magic put into each one. Sometimes upping the pacing of the song, reducing and increasing the amount of magic, and hammering more or less at the metal. By the time I finished with the last one, I felt that I had a pretty good feel for how to keep my rune under control. I went to bed that night confident that I wouldn't cause any more incidents that would make me stand out or cause me to be exiled from the mountain.