16th Day of Searing, 124th Year of the Age of Steel
Masagh stood suddenly, staring down at his own notes etched across the parchment in front of him. “Mistlords and demons, I’ve got it.” He croaked hoarsely.
It had been fifteen days since Arthur had thrown him out of the laboratory and given him the task of creating his own Runeforging project. Masagh had hated the prospect at first, but it had grown on him. Now, days and one perfectly crafted hilt infused with his own ichor later, he had finally figured out how to join the runes from the blade he had crafted to the hilt he had crafted. “I use a double set of convergences and a glyph to join them. I just need the head’s glyph and the hilt’s glyph to be mirror images.” He barked a laugh and pushed back from the desk in the Creth library at which he and Indira sat.
Initially he had begged Arthur to allow him to attempt to make a sword similar to Ghoulblade. The Bonecaster had laughed, saying he was not ready to commit that many resources to Masagh’s project. They had settled on a large two-handed axe. It did not use nearly as much aetherite and steel, and Arthur thought the design simple enough for the axe head that it would be salvageable if Masagh failed.
So he had spent the first five days, and restless nights, trying to design and forge an axehead whose glyphs worked with the necrotic source. Then he had spent three hours in an internal meltdown in the sparring ring while Indira watched him batter a dummy to kindling. Then it was back to productivity with the painstaking design of the hollow hilt of the thing, complete with ichor and bone interior and runes spiraling up the sides.
That had been another seven days of work. Finally, after three days in the library pouring over references on both Necromancy and Runeforging, he had found his method for connection.
Indira made a noice and raised her head from the blank book she had been copying necrotic rituals into. Her writing was neat and orderly. What was more, the mundane act of copying texts seemed to bring her great joy. She materialized only the hand that held the ink pen. When he spoke finally and stretched back she looked up.
“Really?” She set the ink pen down in its stand. “That’s great!” She stretched her pale white arms out to either side. “I’m nearly done with this page if you want to go work on it now.”
Masagh stood, eager to finally finish the project. “I’ll go see if Arthur can review my schematic. Enjoy your transcription. Don’t feel like you have to stop just to come watch me.” He gathered the papers he had strewn across the desk and tried to piece them back into order.
“Oh no, I’m going to come see this.” Indira said, waving a hand at him as he moved towards the exit. “But you go on ahead.”
Arthur was where he most often was these days, bent over his own workstation in the Runeforge side of the laboratory. Two other Bonecasters were assisting Masagh’s brother Cyran with a necrotic creation across the lab. Arthur was crafting the reinforced armor he had originally set Masagh to.
“Arthur.” Masagh said by way of greeting. “I’ve got the solution… I think.”
Arthur but down the chisel and mallet he was using to engrave runes on the inside of a gauntlet and blinked up at him. He cracked his knuckles and held out a had. “Let’s see it, then.”
Masagh handed over the pages and stepped forward. “Page four there. I can use a mirrored glyph of transference on both the axe head and hilt before attaching them together. This fixes both the transfer of power from the hilt to axe head, and the balancing issue of the necrotic cost.” Masagh watched Arthur for a reaction as he spoke, but the Bonecaster stared at the notes impassively.
He pressed on. “With mirrored glyphs I can connect them seamlessly.”
Arthur turned to the next page. “It is a weapon for use in melee combat. How do you ensure it the glyphs will not become dislodged and result in leakage or degradation of power?” Arthur asked, not looking up from Masagh’s notes. It had the weight of a test rather than doubt.
“Page two.” Masagh answered quickly, his excitement lifting. “I have a notch and corresponding groove build into the design of the axe head. When they sit flush there will be no movement. I can place the glyphs on the opposite side.”
A moment passed, then Arthur grunted in satisfaction. “Good. Do it.” He said, finally looking up at Masagh and handing the papers back. “I look forward to seeing how it goes. You’ve done well.”
He was already at his workbench with both the haft and head of the axe he was creating laid out by the time Indira entered. She drifted over with mild excitement. “Judging by the fact that you aren’t murdering a dummy right now I suppose Arthur liked it?” She teased.
“Yes, he said ‘good’.” Masagh told her, smiling at her jab. He laid out his fine detail chisels and began to clamp the axe head into the vice.
The projects initial idea had actually been Indira’s. She had asked him if he could make a sword that could hurt ghosts. He had responded by saying he could make ghost darts that did that. She had turned to him and said “What about people who are not necromancers?”
Thus, their idea of an axe of ghost striking had been born. Masagh had painstakingly mapped out the runes and glyphs needed for storing the ichor and converting it into the coating used in ghost darts. Although he didn’t see himself using the weapon, he was still proud of it.
“Good is…good I suppose.” Indira said, settling on her usual spot across from him.
The first glyph was to be situated at the center of the spine of the axehead. Masagh first took the time to continue the knotwork of runes from the head’s enchantment towards the spine. He remembered the need for even depth strokes and would often stop to check with the auraglass that they had an even spread of power flow. The sound of his rhythmic tapping on the metal tinkled through the otherwise mostly quiet lab around them.
Indira had turned to watch Cyran and the Bonecasters work, her arm materialized and her head leaning against her hand on the workbench. Masagh blinked down at his work. Now to carve the glyph of transference. He was careful to make it symmetrical and small enough to be flush with the hilt when connected. The marks turned into woven lines. The woven lines turned into interconnected runes. The runes evolved again into the finished glyph.
All under his careful hand, the final product began to take shape. He took a cloth and carefully brushed the fine metal dust from the etchings. Then he raised the auraglass to his eye to ensure the entire glyph was receiving the aether. It shimmered in the glass, a uniform depth and integrity. Masagh rolled his neck, satisfied.
“Now I just create the mirror inverse of the glyph on the hilt.” Masagh muttered to himself. He used a bit of chalk to create reference points on the hilt where it would line up with the axe head when fitted. Masagh cracked each and every joint in his gingers systematically before picking the chisel and mallet up again for the final glyph.
He could feel it building in his chest as he struck the first mark. Even and smooth. Mirror images. He let the curved of his first glyph and the chalky white points of reference on the axe’s hilt become his whole world. He watched as the chisel parted the metal shallowly, weaving the marks that would become his magic. The glyph came into being slowly. Methodically.
As Masagh finished the final strokes of the etching, the days of toiling fell away. He thought he cold remember every single mark he had made, every design element, just by looking at the pieces in front of him. When it was done he lifted the chisel and set it aside. The grooves of the glyph caught faintly against his thumb as he ran it over them.
Masagh slid the axe head into the hilt and heard the clink as the notch fit into the groove. Then he took the final piece and picked it up between his thumb and finger. The pin that would secure the head to the hilt forever more. Masagh grinned as he glanced at Indira. She was still watching Cyran’s working. Masagh slid the pin home and struck it one final time with the mallet.
He stood and hefted the long axe. He felt it hum with power in the moment of creation. He wasn’t sure if it was a success, but it had not exploded. Masagh once again raised the auraglass to his eye and looked at the finished product of the axe. The knotwork of intricate runes glowed and shimmered faintly in a pale blue of necrotic power.
“You finished it?” Arthur asked, coming up next to him, wringing his hand with a rag. Indira spun around at the voice.
“Oh, you finished it!” She exclaimed excitedly.
“I think so.” Masagh grinned and held the axe out for Arthur to hold. The big Bonecaster smiled faintly and shook his head.
“Your design, your test.” He said with a chuckle. A laugh and a smile from Arthur, thought Masagh. What next, flying pigs?
“Alright, Indira.” Masagh turned to the ghost. She looked apprehensively at the axe. “May I just try to cut a strand of your hair?” He assured her.
“Okay… but I don’t do bobs or bangs.” Indira pointed a finger at the axe, still looking hesitant.
Masagh laughed and held the axe out horizontally in front of him. “Here, I’ll just hold it here and you can test it yourself.”
The ghost walked around the workbench and glanced between him and Arthur. Then she stepped forward and rolled her hair forward. She took a pinch and ran it along the axe’s blade. The hair fell away and she yelped. “It really works!”
Masagh barked a laugh of victory and ran forward to throw an arm around her. He passed right through her and bounced off the workbench. He didn’t care, he ran to Arthur and hugged him too. “We did it, Indira!”
Arthur patted his shoulder and finally took the axe from him. The Bonecaster hefted it experimentally and squinted to examine the craftsmanship. “Not bad.” He said finally.
“Thank you for forcing me to do this, Arthur.” Masagh took the axe back from him when proffered it.
The Bonecaster turned to his pupil and placed both huge hands on his shoulders. “Sometimes we can only grow if we are forced to do things our own way.” He stared down at Masagh for a long moment before stepping back. “Congratulations, Masagh. That is a fine craft. I will make a copy of the schematic for the Creth records.” Then he was walking back to his own workbench, leaving Masagh staring after him.
“You know, I think he might be the smartest.” Indira said, sidling up next to him. He glanced at her. She was coaxing her hair to grow back.
Runeforged Item
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Ledger
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