Bjorn entered the second town ring where the workshops, forges and refineries burned with pulsing heat. Bjorn was led up one of the side passages and not the main thoroughfares. Drakes were the common pack animal in the high temperatures of the second ring. Unlike in the stables where a started drake can be captured and calmed quickly out here things could get deadly fast.
During the day there was an urgency to everything but not at the same pace as hectic nights when the endless swarms of monsters were being mined. Night was charged with an electric tension of danger while the day had passion on full display. Artisans worked tirelessly within their shops making wonders that would be considered miracles in any other kingdom.
Bjorn was brought to one of the workshops with a large smoke stack that rose hundreds of feet into the air over the city. Black smoke poured from it into the air like black ink into a vast sea. He could taste but burning metal, the sharp tang of sweat, the hard focus of mana and material energies focused into auras.
He was stepping into a workshop but it felt more like a cathedral. Not because they were praying or dedicating work to a True, no, instead it was because purpose so clear was usually reserved for faith.
There was a cacophony of sounds as monster crystals they had been refined into ingots were machined on assembly lines. Each dwarf hammered, twisted, bent or worked the material in perfect tandem. Heat bent space but did not slow the men at work as crystal and metal alloyed into new shapes stronger together than either material on its own.
"Oi Blackforge," Flintbeard called out. "Where's mah welcome mat?"
Bjorn nearly flinched at the sudden voice. He was so engrossed that he nearly forgot the dwarf was beside him.
The sound of pounding hammers and industrial machines slowly quieted as dwarves turned to the entrance. Eyes first drew to Flintbeard but quickly came to rest on Bjorn. There was a moment of stillness before they erupted from their positions all rushing over to admire the hydra in their presence.
"How many heads—"
"Is it true the venom ignites—"
"Those scales natural or reinforced—"
"Can he shed 'em—"
Questions flowed from each of them so fast Bjorn could not keep up. Someone pushed closer than the others. A dwarf squinted at his flank, leaned back, then without warning swung a forging hammer into one of Bjorn's scales.
Crack!
The wooden handle shattered instantly. The iron head ricocheted backward like a launched stone. The offending dwarf ducked on instinct. The man behind him was not so lucky.
The hammerhead struck him square in the face with a heavy thunk! He dropped like a felled log. The floor again when silent this time out of trepidation. Eyes turned back to Bjorn wondering what the hydra was going to do.
Bjorn felt the original impact only as a faint vibration. Not pain. Not even discomfort. It barely registered as if someone was tapping a shield to test its temper.
He stared down at the broken handle still clutched in the first dwarf's hands. It had been a full-force swing and it had accomplished nothing.
For so long, Bjorn's world had been shaped by things that could hurt him, monsters with corrosive fangs, siege constructs powered by aetheric cores, beings whose spells cracked mountains. He had measured himself against threats that demanded everything he had to survive encountering.
He had forgotten what he was compared to ordinary people. He never thought about how much more powerful he was than any of the dwarves here. Without magic buffing his scales or flesh he was likely the most durable thing in the entire workshop. He was more powerful than most beings would ever reach in their lifetime.
Even if every dwarf present took a turn swinging at him, the result would be the same.
His thoughts drifted, unbidden, to Thyra, the now deceased Left Hand of Ingrid. A blood mage skirmisher feared across battlefields. Level eighty-three. He had once watched her punch an Isi warrior, level thirty, into a red mist with a single blow. He was stronger than her now, he had been for a while.
Somehow, it took a random blacksmith accidentally knocking his coworker unconscious with a rebounding hammerhead for that realization to settle in. The absurdity of it struck him all at once.
Five hissing laughs burst from him suddenly. It echoed across the workshop that was still waiting for his reaction. There was no malice in the sound. But the dwarves didn't know that. They didn't know if their friend's sudden strike might cause retaliation.
"What are ya doin', ya idjit?" Flintbeard roared, face flushing red as he shoved through the crowd. "How about I take that hammer and hit you in the back?!"
The dwarf with the broken handle blinked down at it, then up at Bjorn's unmarked scales.
"I was just testin'—"
"Testin'?" Flintbeard snapped. "On a hydra! Ya ain't right in the head."
Behind him, someone was hauling the unfortunate bystander upright, blood trickling from his nose.
"Don't worry I am not upset." Bjorn said as his heads fanned out and looked over the crowd. "I am surprised and a little proud that that my scales are so durable they caused collateral damage."
The workshop fell silent again. Then, somewhere in the back, a dwarf let out a bark of laughter.
"Well I'll be damned," another broke the silence. "It talks polite."
"Blackforge, finally you say somethin'." Flintbeard said.
"Flintbeard," he called out gruffly from near the central anvil, "I am assumin' that the fire-breather ye dragged into my cathedral? "
The crowd parted. At the far end of the workshop stood a broad-shouldered dwarf. His hair snow white only darkened by the soot. A long braided beard hung over a leather apron etched with the scars of long use. We walked forward through the open crowd and reached out his hand.
"Please forgive my worker there." He said apologetically. "Names Blackforge nice to meetcha."
Bjorn offered him a paw, careful not to cut the man with his sharp claws or squeeze the offered hand into the past.
Blackforge dismissed his men back to work. He led Bjorn and Flintbeard around the shop, at least the places he could fit without issue. The forge was divided into two main sections. The hand forge and the machine steam hammer sides. This was one of the main hearts of the forge town so testing the viability of his flames to use in craft would open the door for financial security for his team as they traveled through Isopike.
"And this is the forge that started it all." Blackforge said as he came to a stop.
The forge was almost out of place tucked in a corner of the otherwise modern facility. It was a traditional forge with no connection to the central steam mechanism that powered the entirety of the town.
"My father started this forge centuries ago, and here is where we might see a new evolution." He continued as he ran his hand across the work area. "Pardon my sentimentality, lets get started. Use ya fire there, in the firepot there."
"My fire is very dangerous." Bjorn said.
"Don't worry about it, I have been handlin' more types of fires than ya have even heard of." Blackforge said with a chuckle.
Bjorn did as he said and lowered on head to breath out a stream of primana fueled Plague Fire. Blackforge's eyes nearly popped out of his sockets as he sensed the chaotic and monster-like feeling primana always had. It took a while for Tanisha to get used to Aurelius's aura because it felt like the same mana as monsters. It wasn't, the monster had a corrupted mana. Primana was the source of mana it was unsure if it wanted to be mana, aether, maya, or any other various magic types there are. But that made it adaptable and while Bjorn could have just used mana instead he wanted to see what Blackforge could really do when he was faced with the power of possibilities.
"What is that flame?" Blackforge said as the forge came to life. "It feels like mana, and also prana, and ki and everything."
"It is still toxic, be careful with it," Bjorn said.
Blackforge laughed hardily and rolled up his sleeves.
"I was skeptical at first but this? Wait there."
Without preamble he rushed forward with the bellows and began stoking the fire. Preparing metal and monster crystal and beginning his forging experiment. A wide smile on his face the entire time.
Bjorn sat down watching the master work in wrapped attention. The forge, the anvil, the hammer, the walls and floor all glowed with the faintest runework that pushed the primana into shape. It was the striking process of taking the essences of his toxic flame along with the spellwork that made it and turned it into creation. Each hammer blow, each rang out as shape slowly began to form.
Bjorn wanted to continue to watch but something wrong cut through the scents in the air. He tasted mana unlike anything else he recognized in the city. Then came the sharp unmistakable taste of ozone. The mana in the air soured and Bjorn knew exactly what was going on. He ran to the door of the shop leaving everyone behind as they had not yet noticed the wrongness of the ambient mana.
"Bjorn, where are you going? You can't venture around by yourself!" Flintbeard called out.
"Stay here!" Bjorn yelled. "Danger!"
He stepped out of the forge where things appeared normal only for a moment. Then a crackle of lightning struck the central core of the city, the massive boiler that powered everything. The flash dissipated but not the lightning. It sat there like a branching tree reaching up into the heavens.
Mana flooded outward from the scar in reality, then primana then finally maya. The infernal energy was black and thick, like spoiled blood from a wound.
It was a fragment of the Rift. There was a roar that rattled the town then monsters started running out of the tear in reality. Bjorn looked around, and most of the dwarves in the city were knocked out. Those that were under level fifteen couldn't handle the pressure of mana in the air. Anyone that looked at the rift directly passed out immediately if their level was too low.
It would be a slaughter if no one protected the town.
Bjorn heard steps behind him so he quickly closed the door to the forge so none of the workers would fall victim to the power outside. He then looked at the monsters below and ran towards danger.