Inheritor Of Magic: The Magi King

The sound of hammers on anvils caught the attention of King Petros as they approached the forges. He knew that Wolfe could make quite a few items simply by layering magic, but that definitely sounded like a proper forge working.

“The raw materials are made with magic, but it needs a complex process to blend them and create a true masterpiece of a weapon, and not just a mundane item with a spell slapped on it like a label.” Wolfe explained as they walked into the forges and the Demons returned with one large and one smaller keg.

“Oh, a keg for now and one for later?” Petros asked.

“Nope. One of whisky and one of ale. Which do you prefer? Dwarven liquors are incredibly tasty, and we’ve become a little addicted since we got here. You can’t get anything this good in the Demon Realms.” Risa joked.

They had lots of good liquor in the Demon Realms, and the Wrath Demons usually preferred spiced liquors, heavy on the cinnamon, but she had taken a fancy to the Dwarven ale, and drank it in quantities that made the actual Dwarves in town proud.

“Shorty, where are you at? We brought ale.” Risa called as they walked in. Sᴇaʀch* Thᴇ N0vᴇlFirᴇ.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of nøvels early and in the highest quality.

“In the back, I’ve got visitors from another world.” A hoarse voice replied from the back room.

Thorin’s apprentices were there, along with a Fae tour guide, who had convinced the old Dwarf to show off some of his skills for them.

The Dwarf’s smile got impossibly larger as he saw them walking in with the two kegs, and he set aside the piece he was working on to come over and greet them.

“You’re just in time, this work is thirsty, and I neglected to restock while I was finishing up my latest attempt. I tell you, this one’s a beauty, and I’m pretty certain the council will pass it.” He announced, before extending his hand to Wolfe.

“Shebbediah Stoneforge, but you can call me Shorty. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Patriarch Noxus.”

Wolfe shook his hand. “I believe you know the others already, and this is King Petros of the Fallen.”

Risa poured out a round of ales using the Dwarf’s mugs from the wall of the forge, and the visitors looked cautiously into the foamy liquid.

“It’s Ale, you have it in your world as well, but this is the good stuff.” Wolfe explained.

He took a deep swill of it, draining half the mug, and Shorty smiled. “I might have just arrived in the city, but I think we will get along just fine, Patriarch.”

Wolfe laughed. “You say that now, but you might not when our wives come to wake us up tomorrow morning.”

The humans looked shocked at the pair, who were already pouring themselves another pint of beer.

“Drink up, it tastes better if you don’t wait for it to go flat.” Wolfe suggested.

They cautiously sipped at the brew, confident that it wasn’t a Fae poison now that they had seen Wolfe drink so much of it.

Petros sighed in pleasure. “Oh, that is premium. I must say, it’s almost a shame to come from an entirely human world when this exists.”

Shorty laughed. “Aye, and you haven’t even tried the whisky yet.”

“Do we have shot glasses here? Perhaps we could try a little.” King Petros agreed, earning himself a strange look from the Dwarf.

Wolfe laughed. “He doesn’t know. But humans can’t drink like that anyhow, they would literally die.”

Shorty grumbled, then pointed to a cabinet on the far wall.

“Risa dear, would you mind going and getting some sample glasses from the cabinet?” He asked.

Wolfe turned to Petros with a smile. “Dwarves drink hard liquor from the same mugs as their ale. Think of it as the difference between casually sipping and heavy drinking.”

Petros gave the Dwarf an impressed look. “Dwarves can drink whisky by the pint?”

Shorty just shrugged. “That’s how it is. You’ll like it, we’re the finest brew masters in any known world, even if we do have our opinions on how slowly some species drink.”

Risa brought the glasses, and Wolfe created a bucket of ice.

“This is how the humans like it. Chilled in a glass so they can appreciate the flavour.” He explained, knowing that the Dwarf had just come from Faerie, and had very little experience with the species yet.

Shorty looked intrigued, and used a pair of clean tongs from his workspace to throw a half dozen cubes into his mug before filling it with liquor.

“Sometimes other species have good ideas. I still don’t trust chilled ale, though.”

Drinks were poured, and Wolfe realized that none of Thorin’s apprentices had any experience with drinking. Their pace with the ale was fine, but they nearly choked when they tried to drink the whisky like water.

“You’ll get the hang of it soon enough. Would Your Highness care to see my latest work? It’ll be up for sale once the council comes to appraise it in the morning. I’m going for my Rank Six Master Smith certification, you see.” Shorty asked.

Petros was intrigued. “There are Ranks to Mastery of your craft among the Dwarves?” He asked.

Shorty nodded. “The Dwarves take forge craft very seriously. At every Rank, you need to test to prove that what you can do is in the top five percent of what others your Rank can do, if you want to be called a proper Dwarven Master. I was a Rank Five Master, and then I advanced, so now I’m trying to convince them to grant me my Rank Six Mastery.

It’s been thirty years now, but I’m close, I can feel it, and this hammer is glorious.”

He went to a locked safe and brought out a Dwarven Mythril hammer, intricately inlaid with gems, Dwarven Runes, spell arrays modified from Wolfe’s work, and finally, a delicate wire hand wrap that was carefully wound to create the emblem of Forest Grove.

Not with dyes, but by actually changing the alloy of the wire at set intervals, so it naturally formed the logo once the wire was wrapped.

With the mana sight of a King Rank mage, Petros admired the hammer, and all the different layers that were used to create it, including gem arrays, as his people used in their items. It wasn’t quite the same, as they were layered with Fae Magic, but the concept was the same.

“Whether or not they name that your masterpiece, I would like to purchase that from you.” King Petros announced once he had inspected it.

“Wonderful, we can settle on a price after the Masters determine its worth. Now, let’s celebrate.” Shorty laughed as he poured a mug full of liquor on top of fresh ice.

“Oh, whisky on ice is good. I’ll have to talk to the girls about getting me an ice array.”

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