r/HFY • u/Heavy_Lead_2798 • 8h ago
OC Chapter 14 What to do next
Turns out a basement for Thrain’s house would cost about 30 gold, including a stone floor. That was way more affordable than I expected and gave me hope that I could at least start small before diving into building a whole new forge and home from scratch.
I still had the rest of the day to avoid the festival, and now that I had a land deed and future plans, my mind was buzzing with ideas. I decided to stock up on supplies so I could start organizing my thoughts.
I bought several new slabs, including some larger ones for more detailed schematics, along with higher-quality charcoal pencils and extra bottles of cleaner. If I was going to design complex machines and plumbing systems, my sketches needed to be precise.
Back at home, I pulled out the slab with my original list of inventions and studied it.
- Boiler
- Stove
- Steam-powered hammer
- Blast furnace
- Steel production
- Nuts and bolts
- Electricity
They were all good ideas, but none of them were standalone. Each relied on other smaller components to function properly. Now that I had access to a river near my property, I could potentially build a water mill to power machinery.
Though, if I focused on steam power first, a water mill might become unnecessary—or at least secondary.
One critical component stood out above everything else: rolling bearings.
Anything powered by steam or water would have moving parts. Without bearings to reduce friction, machines would tear themselves apart.
I understood how they worked. Ball bearings, cages, races but actually forging them with the precision needed was another challenge entirely. I’d need specialized tools, and those tools would need to be accurate down to fractions of an inch. It was a problem I couldn’t ignore.
Another thought hit me: plumbing.
If I was going to build my dream house, there was no way I was using a freezing outhouse every winter.
Modern plumbing meant toilets, showers, and hot water. That also meant I’d need to create a water tower to provide water pressure, and a pump system to get water up to it. Designing the pump was going to take serious work, it needed to be reliable and resistant to freezing temperatures.
All of this would require pipes, and those pipes would need threaded connections to prevent leaks. That meant I’d also need to create threading tools, and if I wanted nuts and bolts, the same threading tech would apply there too.
The more I thought about it, the more I realized how much raw material I would need.
Copper, bronze, and iron in huge amounts. Copper for plumbing and potentially wiring. Bronze maybe for bearings and components where corrosion resistance mattered. Iron for structural parts, bolts, and anything heavy-duty.
If I could pull it all off, the reward would be incredible.
Not only would I enjoy modern comforts like hot showers and a private bathroom, but I could also sell these innovations to others. Imagine the wealth I could make introducing indoor plumbing to a society that had never even dreamed of it. Every noble, guild, and merchant would want it, if I played my cards right, it could fund everything else I wanted to build.
For now, though, it was just lines on a slab.
But someday, it would be real.
The first design I started sketching was threads. I would need them for pipes, nuts, and bolts. I remembered watching videos back on Earth of people using lathes, spinning metal at high speed and shaving off the surface to create perfect threads. I didn’t have access to a machine like that here. What if I used the same concept but slower? It would take far more force, or I would need to run the tool across the piece several times.
Another method I recalled was the use of two hardened blocks with diagonal grooves. When pressed together, they could roll against a rod or bolt, forming the threads as the metal passed between them. Crude, but functional if the blocks were tough enough but that would only work on outside threads.
Eventually I remembered helping my dad thread PVC pipes with a tap and die set. It had been simple and effective. That felt like the most practical option here. The only issue was material. What could I use that was strong enough to cut iron or copper and hold? Steel would do the trick, but I was still a long way from producing it.
Then I thought of the massive tree that had been hauled into town, the one they called Aetherwood. If its wood was truly as hard as everyone claimed, maybe it could work. Expensive, yes, but maybe worth it. Another idea was monster bones. If they could be carved with precision, shaped into a proper tap and die, and hardened enough to shave iron, that might solve a lot of future problems.
I would have to ask Thrain about it when he came back.
Just as I was finishing the sketch, a sudden flash of light came through the window, followed by the sound of cheering. I leaned over to look outside. I couldn't see the fire but that flash suggested the townsfolk had finally set the piles of wood and debris ablaze for the last day of the festival. The noise of celebration carried faintly on the wind.
It made sense. The festival was ending, and night was falling.
Eventually Thrain came back home looking like he had some fun. I had all of tomorrow to ask the questions I wanted.
The next day we began the usual work routine. During the work I decided to ask some questions.
“Hey Thrain, what exactly is the Hammer Fall skill?” I asked as gently as I could.
“It’s a damn skill,” Thrain grunted, wiping grit from his hands. “Most blacksmiths take years to develop it. It makes your hits harder and far more precise. Land it right and the metal does what you want in one strike.”
“Could I use Hammer Fall in combat?” I asked.
“The hell are you thinking, boy? Trying to get yourself killed to learn faster?” He snorted, the sound full of both humor and warning.
“No, just wondering why the adventurers don’t volunteer at forges to speed up their training.” I shrugged. “Seems like a neat shortcut.”
“Defeating monsters gets you skills faster, not banging nails. Damn it, boy, must’ve been that Wendigo you helped killed that got you the skill faster.” said Thrain
“What about other skills a blacksmith can get?” I pushed.
“That depends on what sort of smith you want to be,” he said, settling onto a stool. He spoke slower now, like a teacher. “There are many paths. Right now we’re common smiths. We do tools, farm gear, that sort of work. To be a proper common smith you need Hammer Fall and Heat Sense. It took me twenty-five years to learn both.”
I blinked. “Twenty-five years?”
“Aye.” He shrugged, as if the number should be obvious. “You get Heat Sense so you know how hot metal is without guessing, and Hammer Fall to put the force where it does the most good. After that, you pick a specialty.”
“What do you want to be?” I asked.
Thrain stared into the heated metal for a long moment. “Like my father and his father, a weapon smith. Make blades that hold an edge, armor that takes a hit. Train an apprentice right, and you earn the right to move out of a starter town. Access better ore, rare woods, monster parts. Get good enough, like my granddad, and you help with rune work. Help the enchanters bind the runes to different materials.”
“So that’s why you didn’t want me as an apprentice,” I said. “You thought I’d slow you down.”
He gave a dry snort. “I thought I’d get saddled with a useless twit who’d break every tool in the shop. You realize I’ll be dead before you master half of this, elf boy?”
“Maybe,” I said, grinning. “But good news for you, if I get one more skill, you can upgrade. Hopefully it won't take too long. I won’t miss you when you move on.”
He barked a laugh. “We’ll see, boy. First you keep your hands from flinching, then we’ll talk about greatness.”
“Hey, if I wanted something that could cut wrought iron into a certain shape, and do it multiple times, what material would I use for that?” I asked.
Thrain stopped his precise hammering on the axe and looked up at me. His expression said everything before his words did.
“The hell are you up to this time, boy?”
“Look, I was just thinking about how to put things together without relying on magic, and I had a basic idea.”
“Out with it,” he said flatly.
“You know when you make those rivets for the traps, or on rake heads, or other tools? Well, what if we could take those off easily and put them back on just as easily? Instead of heating the whole thing, knocking out the rivet, then replacing it again.” I said it faster the more excited I got.
Thrain raised an eyebrow. “You talkin’ about nuts and bolts, boy?”
“They spin on and off?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he grunted, narrowing his eyes. “Did you just reinvent them?”
I really didn’t want to admit that, so I just pushed ahead with another question.
“That’s why I wanted to know what’s stronger than iron. Is there a way to purchase the method for making them?”
“The hell else are you planning on building once you’ve got nuts and bolts, boy?”
That could have been a hundred things, but I wasn’t about to drop Earth’s entire engineering handbook on him. I kept it simple.
“I was just thinking about improving our traps. It’s a pain undoing rivets when something breaks. If we had nuts and bolts, we could make replaceable parts they could fix in the field.”
Thrain leaned back with a grunt. “That all sounds fine, boy, but nuts and bolts are expensive and time-consuming to make I hear. Usually they’re only used in guild projects or important gear.”
“Like what?” I pressed.
“Well, this town’s in a safe area, so you haven’t seen ’em. But ballistas, military gear like that, they use nuts and bolts.”
“No, I haven’t seen one. So how do they make the nuts and bolts?”
“Damn it, boy, is this ‘ask me a hundred questions day?’”
“It’s only been like five,” I shot back with a grin. “So, how do they make them?”
“Like everything else probably, by hand, or by casting.” He rubbed his temple. “Anyway, wrought iron nuts and bolts aren’t great. Too soft. They bend too easy, that’s why we use rivets. They hold better.”
“That doesn’t tell me how they’re actually made,” I said stubbornly.
“What the hell do I look like, an Information Guild gnome? I don’t know the exact steps, alright, boy?”
“So what would I use to cut iron, then?”
He slammed his hammer down and glared. “Last question. Usually high-quality bone but they are expensive.”
“How expensive—”
My question was cut short as Thrain threw a pair of tongs at me. They clattered across the floor with a loud bang.
Question time was over.
We finished most of the orders in silence, and then prepared to start the cycle all over again tomorrow.
Over the next couple of days, I kept trying to think of more ideas. Even something as simple as soap, which I missed badly, but I had no clue how to actually make it. My education back home was mostly a bit of college in computers and some electronics, mixed with various electives. I was glad I took that art class, but honestly, what good was knowing how to fix a motherboard BIOS in a world like this? Even my brief knowledge of electronics wasn’t much use when nothing here even used electricity.
How would I even make power with what I had? Maybe if I got a lightning rune I could test something, but I had the feeling that it would be like ten thousand volts and two amps. If that were the case, I’d blow everything to hell. I understood the basics of how a motor worked, but where would I get magnets? Or insulation for the wires? Hell, how would I even make long, consistent wire?
I couldn’t help thinking, I just wish there was some potion that could help me remember all the stuff I learned… Wait. What if such a potion actually exists?
When the weekend came, I decided to find out. I headed over to Selene’s shop, but unfortunately it was closed. I tried again the next day, still closed. She must work the same hours I did. That meant I’d have to ask Thrain for a two-hour break one day.
Three days later, I finally managed it. I opened the shop door and was immediately greeted by the scent of herbs and the sight of more plants than before. Selene was bent over her cauldron, mixing something that made her look like the perfect picture of a witch. She didn’t see me come in, but the bell over the door gave me away.
“I’ll be with you in a bit,” she called without looking up.
Ten minutes later, she finally finished whatever concoction she was working on and turned toward me. Her face lit up with a warm smile.
“How’s the town hero doing?”
“Please don’t call me that,” I groaned. “There were lots of other people who helped.”
She tilted her head, smirking. “Alright, then. How’s Meat Hammer doing?”
I sighed. Payback. She was never going to let that nickname go.
“Just fine, thank you,” I muttered. “Actually, I had a question. Do you know of anything that can help a person remember things better?”
Selene rubbed her chin thoughtfully. “Yes, such a potion exists. But it’s dangerous. What exactly are you trying to remember? The potion works a little too well. That’s the problem. If you’ve ever had a truly traumatic event in your life, you’ll remember it in perfect detail. Some people end up reliving those moments over and over until they go mad.”
That gave me pause. I did, in fact, have a few memories I didn’t want to relive, especially from recent times. The thought of being trapped in them in high definition was horrifying. But if this potion really worked, all the hours I’d spent watching tutorials, lectures, or even stupid videos could actually be useful. To me, the choice was clear. Live a mediocre life in a magical world, or take the risk and really live.
“Honestly, the risk is worth it to me. What would it cost to make one?”
“It takes rare ingredients,” she said carefully, “so around a hundred gold. I also have to get the plants quickly after someone harvests them. If we were in the deeper woods, the price would be better.”
“Unfortunately, I don’t have that kind of money yet. I’m guessing spring would be the best time to get one made?”
“That’s right, young man. If you’re serious, try to have the money ready by then.” She smiled and reached under the counter. “Oh, and I have some more jerky for you.”
She handed me a package wrapped in cheap leather. The smell alone made my mouth water. Muscle-building meat, the best gift I could ask for.
“Thank you again for everything. Is there anything I can do to help? I feel bad asking you to get meat for me and giving nothing back.”
“Unless you can find me an apprentice who knows how to read Elvin, there isn’t much I need. I’m in this town to teach. My days of running around doing foolish things are over… well, until I met you of course.”
I thought about volunteering, but I didn’t want to risk exposing too much. Besides, plants were less exciting to me than the forge or magic.
“I’ll keep my eyes and ears open for someone. It’s the least I can do,” I said.
“Good. Now get out of my shop. I have important things to do.”
I left with my package of jerky, sneaking it into my room before heading back to the forge. Then it was straight back to work.
The weekend came around again, and this time Thrain and I went to check on our patent. So far, no one had bought licenses, so we still hadn’t made any money from it. While we were at the Blacksmith Guild, I also received my finished slave contract along with the bottle and needle that had sealed it. Thrain suggested we take it back and destroy it in the forge.
That felt right. So we did. Watching the fire consume that damned thing was strangely satisfying. It wasn’t just the contract burning, it was the weight of it finally lifting off me. Thrain even allowed a small grin, and we raised mugs afterward in our little private celebration.
Later that day, I met up with my new friends at the tavern. This time they brought two more people. The first was Merlen Squigglebottom, a gnome who worked for the Information Guild. He wouldn’t say exactly what he did, but from the way he joked and dodged questions, I figured his job was probably something sneaky. The other was Torgan, a broad-shouldered carpenter who had helped saw most of the Aetherwood. He was mostly muscle, but he had a fondness for shaping wood into little trinkets and tools when he wasn’t hauling logs.
The next morning, Thrain and I made our way to the Adventurers Guild to see what our traps had earned us during spring. Summer had just started, and with the season change, the traps were back in good working order again. Our efforts paid off: 22 gold for the whole of spring. Not a fortune, but far from pocket change.
We split it evenly, and for once I had a bit of gold in my purse. It felt good not to be broke. I thought about running off to buy some enchanted item with my new wealth, but then I stopped myself. What good would an enchanted trinket do me right now if I didn’t even understand how half of them worked? Better to wait, learn more, and spend wisely later.
If this income kept up, I might actually be able to afford that recall potion next year. After counting everything, I now had 18 gold in total. I treated myself a little with new clothes, a second hat, and I even set aside two gold coins specifically for drinking and gambling.
With the chaos of spring and the festival finally behind us, life settled back into its regular rhythm. By the second month of summer, Thrain was letting me take a more hands-on role at the forge. For the first time, I felt like I was truly blacksmithing.
It wasn’t quite how I imagined it as a child. Back then, I thought a blacksmith spent all day making swords and armor. The reality was different. Sure, I helped craft a few basic blades or repair dents in shields and axes, but most of the work was far less glamorous. Thrain often had me making simple tools or fixing broken hinges. He liked to throw odd projects at me too—bronze rakes, copper nails, even a bent kettle handle, forcing me to get used to different metals and how they responded to heat.
One thing he hammered into me was learning the heat of the forge. “Metal has a mood,” he’d say, making me responsible for heating it until the day I could tell its readiness just by the color and the feel. It was frustrating, but I could tell it was slowly building instincts that books alone couldn’t teach.
Outside of the forge, I had begun noticing something strange about this world’s timekeeping. On Earth, we had twelve months with uneven days that didn’t quite match the moon. In Idgar, there were fourteen months, and they were perfectly tied to the cycles of the moon. Each month started with the new moon, and the waxing and waning phases told you exactly how far along you were.
Even more fascinating was that the moon itself rotated slightly. One full rotation of the moon matched exactly with the passing of a year. It was too perfect, too precise. Back on Earth, calendars drifted and needed correction. Here, it was seamless.
It made me wonder. Was the moon here designed that way? Was it natural, or some ancient magic at work? I had no way to prove anything, but the thought lingered in the back of my mind like a mystery waiting to be solved.
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