Sleeping Player (Project Chrysalis Book 3) by John Gold (novel24 TXT) 📕

But the more he watched, the more he doubted that he would be able to make his dream become a reality. Warriors who preferred two-handed weapons needed armor that wouldn’t hinder their mobility. Shield-bearers needed strong armor, while the speediest of the attackers needed to maximize their maneuverability. You also had to take into account the person’s figure, not to mention their physical attributes, their abilities, their techniques, and, most importantly, their fighting mastery.

Isaac had neither practice creating armor nor a deep understanding of it.

He spent the next week going around the city, stopping at armor shops and smithies. His fingers felt their way around the armor there to understand its weight and durability. Then, he would think about comfort and the class it was best for.

The traders thought he was a thief at first. But when he didn’t react to their yells, they assumed he was a customer who’d lost his armor. It was only when Isaac demonstrated how good his eye was that they recognized him as a master and let him go in peace.

Rumors of an itinerant master blacksmith made their way around the city. People claimed his approving nod meant that the item he was looking over was high-quality, while it was better to stay away from shops he walked out of without saying a word. Some even said he could tell the quality of a piece of armor without identifying it or trying it on—all he needed to do was hold it.

He would trail the tips of his fingers along pieces, feeling their defects, weaknesses, and hidden cracks. When he reached for leather straps, the salespeople couldn’t breathe. The straps were the first to break down, no matter the armor, as their durability dropped even when the armor wasn’t being used. And what if the itinerant master said it was poor-quality work? But Isaac was only ever checking to see how the straps were attached, so their worries were unfounded.

Isaac made the rounds of hundreds of workshops, spending hours watching the craftsmen at work. At one of them, the owner offered to teach him the blacksmith profession if he chipped in.

The shop was in an old crafting quarter that had been hit by a fire. The first floor was set up as a workshop; the second, for selling the goods made there. In the next building over, the blacksmith’s family lived. An elderly alchemist named Gvalt had his shop above them.

The old blacksmith was a gray-bearded, powerfully-built dwarf. His steel muscles were never quite concealed by his shirt, which was always too tight. It was worn carefully tucked into a black leather apron.

Masters always recognize each other. That’s how it was with Isaac, who needed no more than to glance at the pieces in the shop to be amazed at the mastery of their creator. They were all pieces of armor, varying in size and material, and nestled on the blacksmith’s shelves. The blacksmith himself noticed Isaac’s look.

“What do you think? I found them on an island in the Sea of Darkness.”

“Oh, you didn’t make them yourself? They’re perfect! It’s all kinds of different pieces of armor combined to create a single, comfortable set.”

The dwarf narrowed his eyes and scratched his gray beard.

“Tell me this, boy… What do you see in those pieces?”

“Yes-s-s…” Isaac gasped, unable to express his awe. The dwarf knew! “These are pieces of chainmail with a different ring type. See? Here, they’re smaller, offering better protection against arrows. But in this spot, the ring shape changes to attach to the light plate armor. This piece is for the sleeve—these moveable plates and the chainmail under them work to compensate for the movement. Hm, the chainmail rings may even change shape before returning to what they were before.” The old blacksmith raised an eyebrow, as that thought hadn’t crossed his mind. “I’m not sure what’s going on here. I’d have to guess that it’s part of the chestplate, protecting the collarbone.”

In Isaac’s head, all the different fragments melded into a three-dimensional picture. His inquisitive mind combined them in dozens of different ways, though each one felt incomplete. It wasn’t the metal or the pieces of armor. No, everything was much more complicated. The idea itself was so complicated it was of an order beyond anything he’d ever seen. In fact, it was a good ten times as technologically advanced. Still, the picture was incomplete.

“Sir, is something missing? I can’t figure it out…”

The dwarf gestured to a chair, himself sitting down across from Isaac.

“I found those fragments more than a hundred years ago when my clan and I were out traveling. Back then, I was a young warrior, but seeing them was enough for me to switch my class and become a blacksmith. Ever since, I’ve been trying to make something similar, though I can’t even come up with a model.”

“That’s no surprise. You need two precise models, and then a fitting. This is a completely different level of technology. It’s like the instructor of the world’s ten greatest grandmasters sat down to make something,” Isaac replied, pausing to think. A wrinkle appeared on his forehead to give him an angry expression. “Although, no, even that wouldn’t be good enough. This is something more than just armor.”

The dwarf laughed into his beard. As he did, his shirt tore at the seams, baring his powerful shoulders.

“Son, do you think I’m some kind of beginner? Of course, I wasn’t able to come up with a model because I can’t understand what’s at the heart of this armor.”

And that was the first of hundreds of conversations between the blacksmith and his apprentice. The dwarf’s name was Habald, and the alchemist living above his house was called Gvalt. The latter turned out to be his brother.

Isaac picked up the blacksmith class and worked day after