As we walked through the campus I checked my money pouch. I was only left with a large copper. Considering how much the rest cost, I doubted this would be enough for the rest… With a heavy heart I opened my heart to speak.

  “Magnar… I think I’m in trouble… The last things needed to start forging are an anvil and grind stones… I don’t think I can afford them…”

  “Oh, that’s no problem. Here, this will be enough, right?” He pulls out a gold coin from the pocket of his vest and throws it over at me.

  I scramble and catch it, holding it carefully. I look at the coin dumbfounded, then looked back at Magnar.

  “Are you nuts? This is way too much… What do you expect me to do with this?”

  “Hm? That’s the smallest coin I have on hand…” Magnar looked confused and pulled out from an inner pocket a big pouch. “Here, take a look.” He handed it to me.

  I opened it feeling apprehensive. As light entered the pouch, a golden radiance spread out. I looked inside and was even more dumbfounded. There were only full gold coins inside… not even a trace of half golds… Just the highest value coins in civil circulation…

  “Magnar… Do you know how many coins are here?”

  “Hm? I think fifty… That’s what I’ve been told anyway.”

  “Do you have any idea how much even one of these coins is worth?”

  “… No.”

  “How do you not know?”

  “In Vok’Tar we only exchange item for item. We do not use… coins…”

  “Well then… let me tell you, in such a way that you’ll understand… I spent on my forge, about a tenth of a coin. What you have here… is enough to make my forge five hundred times over.”

  “Well, it’s not like I have a smaller coin anyway… Just take one and let’s go. I doubt you won’t be able to pay it back. You’ve been taught by Fjorn, I think your skills will be up to par.”

  “I guess so… Actually, how much do you know about master Fjorn? That old man always seemed a little bit strange to me… He clearly knows stuff that no normal dwarf should… His feel for materials and their properties is way too complete to be just a blacksmith…”

  “Hm… Not much… Khazmodan isn’t really welcoming… Those dwarfs supply us with weapons, we provide them with whatever materials we find, and they request. A simple relationship. But Father has a battleaxe forged by Fjorn. The only weapon that survived his hands to this day. It’s too damaged for him to use, but in good enough condition to keep as a trophy… One of his most prized possessions…”

  “I only know he’s an elder of the dwarfs… Not sure if that only means he’s like… really old, or if he’s a respected important person.”

  “As far as I know it’s the second. What even made you think otherwise?”

  “I mean, he’s old and grumpy…”

  “All dwarfs are grumpy…”

  We sunk into silence looking at each other.

  “How was I supposed to know that?”

  “You know now.” Answered Magnar, shaking his head. “You know, sometimes I’m surprised by how little common knowledge you have compared to technical knowledge…” He paused, his eyes going big. “You’re like a dwarf!”

  I reinforced my hand and punched him in the side below his ribs.

  “Bwah! What was that for?” He asked breathlessly, his voice sounding like a whisper forced at the last breath.

  “Never call me dwarf again. Also… Stop making a scene. I did not hit that hard.”

  “Still hard enough for me to feel the shock to the other side of my waist… You’re brutal…”

  “… Sorry…”

  Magnar picked up his pouch and I also pocketed his investment. With a gold coin I could directly build a smeltery too. It would be needed if I were to build a strong weapon for Magnar, after all, I basically received advanced payment.

  We made our way to the market. I walked with Magnar towards the higher end shops. We entered a masonry shop called Dragon’s Scale in the end. I looked around a bit, getting strange looks from the shopkeeper, but he didn’t intervene since Magnar was there as well, his golden thread shining in the afternoon sun.

  “Mister, do you have any grindstones here?” I asked the shopkeeper seeing that there were none on display in the shop.

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  “We make them on command. It’s not something usually bought. Were you sent to order some?”

  “No, I’m buying for myself. Is it fine if I go around to pick the rocks I want used?”

  Once again the shopkeeper threw an eye to Magnar. The beastman simply shrugged, and to prevent the shopkeeper from staring at him for answers he explained.

  “I’m only here to help carry stuff. He’s the craftsman… Don’t look at his age, he built a forge by himself. Just give him what he wants, and we’ll be out of here…”

  “Alright then…” His voice came out slowly as he looked down at me… “Would you like to hear what we are usually asked for?”

  “No, thank you, I’ll just pick them myself.”

  I went around again, looking at the samples. I approached them and quickly identified the first one. A reddish-brown sandstone. It sparkled with tiny dark red crystals. I ran my finger over the surface. It should be at around 80 grit… enough to quickly bite metal and give a preliminary sharp edge. I couldn’t be sure, but the crystals seemed to be garnet which is harder than steel.

  I looked around for the next stone, whilst keeping an eye out for other better materials. After going through more samples, I decided on the next material. It was a bluish rock. By running my fingers over it I felt it’s dense structure. I applied some force to it and it did not crumble. I ran my fingers over forcefully and despite the dust left behind no deep grooving was left.

  I picked the dust between my fingers and rubbed it. This was the perfect candidate for the second polish, that would remove any jagged marks and would define the final shape. After a longer search I found the ideal next stone. It was crystalline in appearance but hard and nonporous. Light could almost pass through this stone but was in the end too opaque.

  I used aether to make some scratches on the side of the sample. Then I deeply inhaled, pulling the dust resulted from the scratches in my nostrils. I felt it hit me in the back of my throat and started coughing. It broke in very fine particles. Too fine for my fingers to detect…

  So, I used this method to feel them. They stuck to the back of my throat like silt, carrying a certain sharpness that made me uncomfortable. Using aether it removed the dust and brought it on my tongue, ready to spit it out as soon as we left the shop. This stone… Although not used to such methods, I guessed it would have a grit of three thousand.

  “Oi kid, are you snorting my samples?” Asked the shopkeeper looking incredulous at my actions.

  I ignored him and looked around some more for a last stone, one that would have even higher grit. I found no such stone, despite verifying the entire shop… ‘Probably because that sort of dense small grain stones are too soft and crack easily…’

  I went to the shopkeeper bringing the samples I settled on with me.

  “These would be the ones.”

  “That red stone you chose… It’s used for banquet hall ceilings for their glitter, the blue ones are highly sought in statuary… are you sure about these?”

  “Yes, and here’s the last one.”

  “That’s stone used in temples! You want to make a grindstone out of temple materials!?”

  “I don’t care if it’s temple or tremble or my ass, I need this so I’m buying it.”

  “Alright, but… it will cost you, are you sure you can afford these? They are not exactly your run of the mill rocks… I at least never used any of them to make… grinding stones.”

  “Don’t be so long winded. How much is it?” I asked, impatient from his long talk that told me nothing.

  “No respect…” He grumbled. “A silver in total for the first two, two silver for the last one. Is this all?”

  I pulled out the gold coin that Magnar gave me and placed it on the table. The shopkeepers eyes bulged a bit as he looked up and down from me to the coin. Then he took it and bit into it a bit. Confirming it was real this way, he gave me back seven silvers.

  “For now, yes. I’ll go look somewhere else for the last thing I need. I will come back later if I find it.”

  “Alright. These will be done in about two hours.”

  “Very well.”

  I left the shop together with Magnar. I contemplated my choices, then a brilliant idea popped in my head and I knew I had to try. We left the area of hardworks and materials and approached the artisan part of the market. We went from shop to shop until we found what I was looking for. A small paint shop, the only one around apparently, that specialized in stone paints.

  We entered the shop and were greeted by a bored shopkeeper. His clothes were stained with ink and wore countless spots of color. I looked around and checked each of the stones on display, then settled on one.

  It was slippery to the touch, yet it felt dry. This was the kind of sensation high grit stones would have. I tested the side of the rock with my finger again after getting a bit of my spit on it. The rocks surface turned oily to the touch, while my efforts to rub a hole in it were denied.

  “Hey, do you have bigger pieces of this?” I asked the shopkeeper.

  “Yes. How much do you want? I can grind it into ink for you now.”

  “No need, no need. I just want a big block of it.”

  “How big exactly?”

  “About half my height… I think…”

  “Eh… that’s really big. You’re lucky I didn’t get to portion the last delivery.”

  “How much for the block?”

  “Well… five large coppers.”

  “How about I give you four and I’ll bring back all the residues left from making what I need out of it?”

  “Give me five now, I’ll judge how much I’ll give you back based on how intact it is and how much it is.”

  “Fine.”

  I took out a silver and took the rest. Me and Magnar then followed the shopkeeper in the back of the shop and brought the block out together. We carefully hurried with it back to the masonry shop. For the processing of this last grindstone, I had to pay two large coppers.

  In three hours, me and Magnar were on the way back to the Academy. Each one of us carried two grindstones. Magnar picked the heavier ones. The blue and white kept in his arms. I had black and red.

  In the end I did get my large copper back from the paint shop. Other than that, during this long wait I procured some leather straps, some rope, and eight wooden axles based on the dimensions given by the Mason.

  Actually, that solved a long-standing problem of mine perfectly. ‘I now know one of the standard measuring units of this world, the mark, which is about three centimeters long, by my guess.’ Four of the axles were smooth, the same size as the center bores on the grindstone wheels while the other four had thicknesses ranging between half the bore diameter to triple the bore diameter, in four steps so that the speed of the rotation could be changed.

  After we reached the tower, we set them up. I built stands out of the rest of my wooden planks. Using nails, I fixed the grind stones on their respective axles. Looping the leather straps around the axles and tightening it I ensured transmission of power.

  Using grease and rounded thin wood bits I created rudimentary bearings to avoid wear and tear of the grindstone’s axles. Using a simple pottery wheel system I was going to power the grindstones.

  With this four set up, I had everything needed to start forging. About time to let money roll in and the hammer fall!