BOOK 5. CHAPTER 5

Meaty's smithy was another tent, though this was a very nice one. Value Sense warned Brin that it was expensive, and [Inspect] told him it was waterproof, fireproof, enchanted for temperature control and warded against sound. Meaty could work comfortably in there without being bothered by the random noises of camp, though Brin wondered if he really needed some of the enchantments. Someone as high-leveled as the [Snow-Blessed Armorer] shouldn't be bothered by the heat or cold.

When they opened the flap to the tent, there was a loud bang that would've deafened a normal human. Brin’s instincts screamed that he was under attack, but then he noticed Meaty raise his hammer and bring it back down, making the same loud banging sound. He struck three more times, not even looking like he was really straining his muscles. These were methodical, careful strikes.

Brin understood. This tent wasn't enchanted to protect Meaty from the elements. It was to protect the elements from him. Or more specifically, so that people within a half-mile radius would still be able to sleep.

Meaty set the hammer down, inspected his work for a moment, and then looked up and smiled as if he'd just now noticed the two. "Oh, it's you. Good! Come in."

Brin entered further into the tent. Unlike his workroom in the previous headquarters, the tent wasn’t packed to the brim with all different pieces of armor. There were a few chests, a couple armor stands, a worktable, a forge and an anvil. There was no bed or any sort of living accommodations, which meant that Meaty slept somewhere else.

"I heard my mother's money came in," said Brin.

"That it did. Let me get your size," said Meaty.

Brin expected Meaty to pull out measuring tape or something, but the older man just walked around Brin in a circle looking him up and down. "Eh, I think I got it. You're about done growing, I think, but I'll put in two or three inches of give." It was strange, because Brin's instinct was still to think that he was too short and hope he'd keep growing, but actually, he was taller than Meaty now.

Meaty didn't seem to expect an answer, but mumbled to himself as he made his way to the work table and jotted down a bunch of numbers into a notebook. Finally, he looked up and said, "Do you want the same style as last time, or something more standard?"

"I like my current armor, but I don't have strong opinions about style. I just need to be able to move around in it well. I rely more on speed and stealth than a lot of other knights," said Brin.

“Hm. Ok, tell me what you think of this,” he handed Brin a gauntlet which he tried on. It was nicer than his old gauntlet, with dozens of smaller interlocking pieces so that he could move freely. He didn’t really know how to evaluate it, so he just told Meaty it was fine.

Meaty wasn’t satisfied with that and handed Brin three more metal gloves, but Brin couldn’t really figure out how he was supposed to evaluate them.

“They don’t need to be quite that heavy,” Cid said finally. “He uses a spear so it’s not common for someone to chop his hands. Not more common than any other body part.”

Meaty snapped and pointed at Cid. “Now we’re getting somewhere. Show me how you work your spear.”

Brin did, running through a form with his Bog Standard spear that Hogg had taught him. He had to move slowly and be careful not to hit the walls of the tent, but apparently that gave Meaty what he was looking for because he moved onto shoes. Brin was able to give more instruction on what he was looking for here; he could say if they were comfortable or not at least.

“How do you feel about a lot of ornamentation? Designs and patterns like your old armor, I mean,” Meaty asked.

“It made me feel kind of cool,” said Brin.

“All snow-blessed armor will be self-cooling. It comes with anything I work on,” Meaty said proudly.

“He means that it made him feel admirable,” said Cid.

“But I’m not sure if I want to go that route again. No one else in the Lance wanted any kind of ornamentation,” said Brin.

“Just get the armor you want,” said Cid.

“Fine then, yes. Just like my old armor,” said Brin.

"I noticed how you filled in all the grooves with glass before. I’ll start from the beginning with that in mind. As for designs, we'll do a big icon of the Order right in the middle, that's non-negotiable, but I have some leeway with everything else. Some [Knights] like to have etchings of the battles they’ve won."

"I want dragons," said Brin. "Oh, right, where's Marksi, by the way? I figured he would be here waiting for me."

Cid said, "Asleep. But he might not have been here either way. He spends a lot of time with the [Beast Masters]. They caught him messing with their warbeasts so they put him to work."

"Seriously? Doing what?" asked Brin.

"Maybe now isn't the time," Cid said, nodding towards Meaty.

Brin gave the [Armorer] an apologetic wince. "Right. Sorry, sir."

"Just Meaty will do."

"Have you seen Marksi yet, Meaty? Because I think it would be really neat if--"

"I have, and I'm way ahead of you. I'll draw up some sketches that will really flatter the little drake. That brings us to the matter of price."

Brin paused. "I thought Lumina..."

Meaty held up a hand as if to soothe him. "She did. She sent a lot, more than I could rightfully use, but it's still up to you how to spend that money. If you want me to trim back a few features, you can keep a bigger portion of the pile for yourself."

Brin let out a breath in relief. "Oh, that's fine. I want the best you can make. Don't short yourself, but at the same time I'd like to keep the change if there's anything left over."

Meaty grinned in delight. "Perfect. Not often I get a 'money is no issue' type order, but they're always the most fun. So let's talk about features."

Brin didn't embarrass himself by making any suggestions, instead he listened to the expert talk about what he thought best. Meaty had plenty of ideas. Protection was a given; Brin's new armor would resist spells and swords alike. It wouldn't rust, it wouldn't corrode with acid or weaken with age. Brin still remembered how frustrating it had been to try to break through Hedrek's armor and now his would be just as good; most foes would just be grass under his feet, completely unable to harm him.

There were also combat improvements. Brin would be stronger and faster wearing the armor. Since Meaty would be creating it with glass in mind, it would resonate with his magic better and actually integrate the glass he attached to it rather than just tolerating it.

"Let's move onto the helm," said Meaty. "Vision enhancements are standard, and communication spells. The rest of your Lance are next in line after you, so I can give you all a closed line where you'll be able to speak to and hear each other with sound magic."

Brin winced, suddenly conflicted. There was no reason he couldn’t let Meaty imbue his armor with illusion magic. In fact that’s what he should do; if he had the same enchantments as everyone else, no one could use that to figure out he was an [Illusionist].

“Will you do the enchantment, or do you have an [Illusionist] on staff?” asked Brin.

“We have several [Enchantresses] on contract. Some things I can do myself, some things I hire out,” said Meaty.

“Can people see what features the armor has with [Inspect]?” asked Brin.

“No normal [Inspect]. But I could shore it up in that department if it’s a worry,” said Meaty. “But first, you want the communication spells, right?”

Brin bit his lip, thinking. Even just telling Meaty that he was more worried about being [Inspected] than the average person would already say too much. Meaty wasn’t dumb; he could guess what kind of secrets a [Glasser] might have.

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Brin didn’t need to say anything. He could just keep quiet here and it would be fine; none would be the wiser.

On the other hand, the more Meaty knew about what he could do, the more he could adjust Brin’s armor to make it a perfect match for his abilities. He was already integrating Brin’s glass magic, but integrating his illusions was arguably more valuable.

This was a test. Practicality against caution. Him against his Class. The problem was, he wasn’t sure how to figure out what the right answer was. Protecting his Class was a valid concern. How much of his reticence was his Class’s personality pollution, and how much of it was reasonable caution.

He looked at Cid, asking with his eyes what he should do.

Cid's stare told him that he knew what he should do, so he should do it already.

Meaty snorted in amusement. "I'll take your silence as a yes."

"No," said Brin. "I mean, put it in if it's cheap and standard, but I don't actually need it."

Meaty looked down at the worktable. "What are you saying?"

"I don't want to say it outright, so that if anyone asks you can truthfully say you don't know for sure." That was as close as Brin could get right now, but he was still proud of himself. He figured resisting his Class was like a muscle; it would get easier the more he exercised it. "But the vision and sound stuff is optional. I want the armor to be warded against [Inspect] as much as possible so that no one will know so much as my name if I don't want them to. I also want stealth. Particularly, it would be nice if it could hide me from all the senses of a [Rogue], the things they can detect outside light and sound."

Meaty gazed up at him. "I won't betray the Order for you. You realize that whether you say it outright or not, I’m still going to report it."

"Please confirm it with Galan. He already knows, and so does my Lance," said Brin.

Meaty looked at Cid, who nodded.

He shrugged and said, "Fine with me then. This'll be interesting! Give me some time to tinker up some ideas, but off the top of my head... electric sense is no problem. Smell will be more trouble than it's worth; you're better off buying disposables for that. As for heat, I already planned to put in a solution for that, since my snow-blessed armor cools itself. Can you heat up your glass?"

"I can."

"Then I can have the armor match you against the background temperature. It'll make you invisible to a lot of undead as well. A nice little bonus." Meaty started pacing, tapping his chin. “You know, since you’re a bit more of a caster than you let on, that’ll change the project from the ground up. There’s a lot I can do for someone with a big Mana pool. I’m thinking this is going to be less like [Knight] armor and more like [Mage] armor. Think of it as a mobile Mana battery that will cast your favorite spells for you once you’ve run out. Yeah, and back to the glass… that means..”

Meaty’s eyes glazed over as the ideas came faster than he could put into words.

Brin thought of something. He pulled the laser out of a pocket. "Oh, would it be worth it to integrate this?"

“What’s it do?”

“It shoots a fire beam. It’s proprietary, though. I’m the only one who knows how to make it,” said Brin.

“I’ll be discreet. Ok. Here. Show me how it works.” Meaty held up a flat piece of metal, indicating that Brin should shoot it.

Brin pumped in a moderate amount of Mana and shone the laser on the metal plate. It didn’t burn straight through, of course, but he bet that it was getting pretty warm.

“Hm. Not as powerful as I’d have hoped,” said Meaty.

“It’s fast. Instantaneous, actually. And it’s stronger if I push more Mana into it,” said Brin, defensively.

“Well, leave it here and I’ll see what can be done.’

Brin handed it over and Meaty sat down at his desk, turned to a new page in his notebook, and started scribbling. Apparently, they were done for now.

Cid and Brin turned to leave, but Meaty said, "Go see Kartof next."

Brin didn't hate that idea, but the time in Meaty's tent had woken up his appetite and he was really feeling the fact that he hadn't eaten in two days. He felt lightheaded, and just standing and talking to Meaty had felt like a worse endurance workout than anything he'd ever done with a kettlebell.

He said, "We'll see Kartof. Right after–"

"Go now," said Meaty.

"Right. We'll go now," said Brin, resigned.

Kartof's tent really was a warehouse, exactly like his space in the old fortress had been. He didn't give them time to gawk at all the treasure. As soon as they entered, Kartof looked up from a report he was working on and groaned in impatience.

“Sorry, sir. We’ll come back,” said Brin.

“No, it’s fine. I didn't make you a weapon. Your existing spear is good enough. I do have something for you, though. Just there."

Brin looked down at a crate that Kartof was pointing at.

"No, not that one. The one... no! There!"

Brin found the correct crate and opened it. A beautiful translucent shield lay nested on top of a bed of straw. It was free of a single scratch, and looked like it couldn't even be dirtied by the straw. The faint candlelight made it shimmer in faint, mesmerizing patterns.

"I didn't make that shield, either. The Order of the Broken Stone sent it over when I communicated the need, a rare example of our allies acting like actual allies, to tell the truth. It's not enchanted with any direct abilities, instead all of the focus is on improving the material. It should be highly reactive to glass magic, resistant to all other magics, and nigh-unbreakable. If it does break you'll be able to repair it as good as new. The lack of active enchantments means there will be no problem with taking it apart and putting it back together as you please."

This was really for him? Even from here, he could feel the glass with his magic, but rather than just having a vague feeling that it was there, this glass practically screamed to his senses. Brin bent down slowly, hesitating to touch it in case this was all a dream and it was going to disappear.

"Take it and go," Kartof said, shooing Brin as if he were a fly. The dark bags under his eyes told Brin it was probably stress rather than anything to do with Brin personally.

He took the shield, still waiting for the catch, but when they left the tent it was still in his hands. They really were going to let him walk away with it.

He pushed a little bit of glass Mana into it, and the shield practically sang. It was like the chandelier glass times ten, ready and eager to go wherever he wanted or become whatever he could imagine.

"Being in an Order has perks," said Brin.

"You're just realizing that now? Well, I suppose with the time we've had, I don't blame you."

"Food now?" Brin asked.

"The Order's kitchens are closed, but if you're alright with a little walk we can head over to the civilian section."

Brin tried to decide whether a walk and food sounded better, or if he just wanted to collapse into his bedroll. Sleep sounded better, but if he didn't eat he'd just be more tired in the morning.

"Oh!" He remembered something. "Have you heard anything about Sion? Was he in Talra when it--"

"He wasn't there when the attack came," said Cid.

"Oh, thank Solia."

"Actually, if you want to see him we'll be going to the same place," said Cid.

"Good. Let's do that then. He was responsible for those potions in Canibri, you know. He's going to try to play it down, but I know what he did and he's not getting away with it."

Cid grinned. "The way you say that sounds like you're out for revenge here."

Brin nodded and growled, "It's payback time."