After my father left me alone with Snorlot after promising a beard bounded oath on giving him double ale rations which was a fuck load with his status as the clans Rune Smith, I was left alone with Snorlot.
The old cantankerous dwarf gave me a look before he said frankly. "Alright laddie, you go ahead and work on the forges down the hall so the noise doesn't interfere with my own work. You are allowed to bring any finished items to me once a day and I will tell you where you messed up but after that, I will smash your ears nice and swollen shut if you come to me like an unwanted night goblin going after a goat!"
He looked at me sternly and said. "Any questions boy?"
After a moment I asked respectfully. "May I use the common iron and such ores to do my smithing?"
The Runesmith raised an eyebrow before his beard visibly bounced as he quirked up his lips in amusement before saying. "Aye, this mountain is filled with low-quality iron and copper that we gather in mass as we hunt for the high-quality silver. Don't touch the silver or gold or I will break your hands but for the rest. You are free to do what ya want with. So git boy, I am going to bed tonight early with my belly filled with your pa's ale."
Grinning I ran off with a hearty chuckle with Snorlot scoffing at hearing my feet hitting the polished ground as I headed off into one of his side forges that the clan made for him with the hopes of the old bastard finally taking an apprentice to pass on his secrets too.
As dwarves had long known that the age of runesmiths were coming to end, not because magic itself was fading or something... No it was simply because runesmiths would zealously guard their secrets and would only pass down their craft to their apprentices and when they fucking died in battle or just of old age, their craft and secrets would be lost.
Coming to the forges in the back I took a deep breath, filling my lungs with the smoking scent of past glory and ashes as I took in the forge I decided to work with.
Being that this was a clan forge, it was of stone with foot bellows and stacks of wood and coal to fuel it. There was no great alchemy or runes embossed upon the forge to make things easier... For now at least.
As I did inherit crafting knowledge and subsets of Minecraft logic to my person while having a system. So Iwhile I considered if I could make a steam powered hammer or something that drew heat from the forge to power it I was already at work bringing the forge to life once more.
Flames born of a flint and steel caught some fat on fire to bring the wood to embrace the flames, and then I filled the forge with fresh coal so as the wood burned down the coals would burn and activate. 'Now what do I want to make?' I wondered as I considered my options.
For a moment I considered making an axe or even a pickaxe to begin mining... And boy would the dwarves be in for a surprise when they see me mining and they would probably think I was blessed by Grungni the Dwarven god of mining and other things.
But no... I was going to make a hammer. I was going to be a great fucking Runesmith even if Snorlot refused to teach me his secrets and after years of being a kid I was ready to stand out even if I was still a child. And in front of a Runesmith only dwarves older than fifty years old basically are worth any form of attention.
So in lieu of myself sitting with a thumb up my ass for half a century trying to get his attention as he was literally the only Runesmith I could get get the attention of with how we shared our Clan's bloodline going back millennia. I was going to throw caution to the winds.
It was time for me to use my inherited Minecraft knowledge of enchanting... Which had its own rune system.
Cracking my hands I got to work, as I began making the Minecraft furnace which could be fed coal on the bottom intake and ore at the top and once the metals were melted the furnace would leak out pure molten iron... Or steel once I introduced a high power foot powered blillow that used the Bessemer Process to turn Pig Iron into steel.
'Obsidian is here, along with some extra books... Also, there is shit gemstones but still gemstones mixed in with the ore so I can actually make an enchanting table!' I thought as I began working on that as I left the iron to smelt as I considered on making a Tinker's Construct Forge if my plan goes right.
Basically, my plan was simple. I had zero chance to become the Runesmiths disciple/apprentice, it wasn't that I didn't have potential, nor was it that I was an outsider or even I had low status. No, the simple reality was that Snorlot was an old cantankerous dwarf who was a fucking asshole to say the least.
So the plan was thus, if I couldn't become his disciple... Why can't just show off my inherited knowledge saying I saw the forging in my dreams as though Grungni and Thungni were teaching me?
I needed to have a safe place to forge to say nothing of how I simply needed materials as I couldn't go mining on my own with Skaven, Night Goblins and the Undead commonly being found in the underground tunnels the clan was breaking into as we mined into this mountain.
The Enchantment Table required a book focus to draw magical energy into, and the obsidian acted as a magical shield to contain the energy... And to keep tainted/controlled magical energy in the winds of magic from altering or contaminating the runes I would engrave upon my enchanted items.
"Now... What runes should I use, besides Unbreaking." I muttered before I looked into the enchantment book and swirling letters of runes that made my eyes burn and I picked out the last two runes I would grace this hammer with.
A hammer needed to do two things in its life. It smashes, and it smashes other things apart and down while it remains strong.
So with that piece of divine knowledge, I got to work. First in created the head of the hammer from the steel that had been smelted from the furnace, beating it into shape into a simple hammerhead.
The roar of the fires filled my ear amidst the sound of the sound of lesser hammer filling my hand clanging powerfully into the steel billet as I forged it into the shape I desired. 'Need to enchant some gloves with Fire Resistance.' I thought as the heat was harsh on my young body but I worked through the discomfort uncaring of my lungs burning, uncaring of my skin turning red as the high temperature gave me first-degree burns.
I was a dwarf on a fucking mission and I kept working long and hard without breaks except when I needed to reheat the metal to continue pounding it into the perfect shape. Then when I got the hammerhead finished. I dunked the dark cherry red hammerhead into a vat of oil to quench it and harden the metal.
'Now to make a nice wooden handle.' I thought as I grabbed some good hearty oak and using a foot-powered sander I began sanding and carving into the arm thick for me at least a piece of oak to turn it into the long handle for the hammer.
My hammer was going to have an interesting design, I was going to have a thinner point more towards the top where I could wield it comfortably at close range and use it for some smithing and maybe even some mining. While also having a thicker long rod so I could use it as a 'Warhammer' until I grew up more and could make a new Warhammer that would fit my older body better.
"In the depths of the earth, where shadows roam, Miners toil, with hammer and stone. Their sweat and toil, beneath the ground. Forging hammers, with rhythmic sound we build new homes." I sang to myself as I kept working and singing the song of clan Barruk.
"Forge the hammer, strong and true, from iron veins, we'll pull it through. In the cavern's heart, our song will ring, as we forge the hammer, let it sing!" I sang happily and I could feel the metal singing to me in turn as I ground down the imperfections on a foot-pedaled grind stone that made the hammer's head smooth to the touch and baring the silverly pure steel to the eye.
Then after I fitted the hammerhead atop the long handle and used a matching wooden wedge to fit the hammer's handle into the head and then cap the top with some welted wax to fill in the cracks I took the completed hammer to its last station.
The enchantment table.
"A hammer must strike hard." I whispered as I imbued the now glowing hammer with the enchantment of Power.
"A hammer must never break." I whispered as I imbued the gleaming hammer that was shown with multicolored light with the enchantment of Unbreaking.
Taking a breath even as my bodies strength was pulled oh so harshly from my body and into the hammer to fuel that hammer's enchantments. I spoke one last time. "Lastly... A hammer should still never fucking break." I said with my vision dulling as I lastly added the Mending Enchantment to the hammer before I slipped onto the ground and fell unconscious.
-
I awoke upon a soft chair and as I awoke I heard a deep sigh ring out before Snorlot's voice came out. "Boy... How?" He asked simply as I blearily opened my eyes but taking in Snorlots form my head hit the side of the chair with a loud donking noise as my hard head hit the wooden frame of the chair making Snorlot scoff as I fell back asleep.
-
Snorlot's old frame started towards the little brat but at hearing a deep snore ring out he couldn't help but snort in exasperation before he was silenced as he looked upon the rune-covered tiny warhammer and...
He felt disgusted! The handle was fucking ridiculous, it was shoddy as shit with Kharn flip-flopping like a damned elf jumping around as he couldn't decide if he wanted a forging hammer or just a Warhammer. The steel itself although of a good purity didn't go through a second heat-treating segment and had some internal weaknesses in the metal.
But... The hammer was enchanted. It was a rune weapon.
There was no denying that. He felt the blasted winds of magic being drawn into that obsidian and gemstone-encrusted table that was then used to inscribe the runes onto this hammer.
That left many... Many things up in the air. Where did Kharn learn to make these runes? What was that blasted table that evaded his studying, and most importantly... How much extra Dawi Ale could he wrench from Urzak for dealing with this shit.
And lastly... He was worried as the boy had bits of stone that he had to pick out of his skin from where excess magic had run through his dwarven body and had turned his body to stone as was the norm for any dawi who tried to touch upon the Winds of Magic.
But just as he was worried about needing to tell the clans most favored ale brewer whose reputation was only below his own honestly that his son got hurt in his forges. The boy stirred again after a slight bit of rest with the boy's unfocused eyes snapping open before he groaned with a hand going to his head making him chuckle deeply from the chest.
-
Ok... Maybe rushing to put three enchantments on a weapon when I was still a kid was a fucking terrible idea but it was awesome and totally worth it.
As I sat up properly and made out Snorlot who was standing in front of me with my hammer in his hands, he spoke bluntly. "How did you inscribe runes upon this boy?"
I shook my head and said tiredly. "I don't know how to explain... While I was drumming a song upon the metal with my hammer I could hear a voice speaking to me from the fire, the metal and hammer's chorus on what to do."
Taking a breath I continued. "The three voices, two male, one female spoke over one another so it was kinda hard to understand but as I worked they told me more clearly how to use these three runes I put upon the hammer."
The old Runesmith held out the hammer to me with both hands respectfully and I carefully took the hammer with him saying quietly. "Boy... Whispers in your head aren't a good thing. But I remember there was a bit of news when Lady Valaya's Hearth Fire smoke showed adnormally high acceptance towards ye."
With his free hands the old runesmith threaded his hands aggressively through his beard as though worried about something and then after a few moments of tense silence as he stared hard at me and the enchanted hammer he spoke.
"Boy..." He started and I beamed ready to accept praise for being the first fucking dwarf younger than a decade to make an enchanted weapon!
"That Warhammer is fucking disgusting to look at, I've seen greenskins put more effort and thought into their weapons. What the hell is this even, a Warhammer or a forging hammer boy!?"
I died a little inside as he roared these questions at me and I couldn't help but sink into place as he huffed and said. "Now boy, this... Abomination offends my senses and I am the proud Runesmith of Clan Barruk, if the Clan is going to have such a great smith such as yourself..." That sarcasm he used at calling me a great smith cut deep but he seemingly wasn't done as he leaned and continued.
"But for a whelp you got potential. So I will help polish that potential starting tomorrow, go on home and tell your father he owes me double the Ale... As you are now my apprentice and I will need more ale to keep my throat wet while I am screaming at your beardless arse." He finished and literally pushed me out of his workshop leaving me standing stunned outside his workshop with my enchanted hammer.
"Did I just get adopted by the clan's runesmith?" I wondered to myself before shaking my head and covering up the enchanted hammer in my clothes as I quickly made my way back home as quickly as I could.