The not-immortal Blacksmith

047 The Not-Immortal Blacksmith II – Vacation V – Bigger Boat, Bigger Gun



Maxwell

Necallhill, Ehelm Province, Kingdom of Garthia.

3rd of Kusha, the month of Harvest.

2290 Years since the New gods came.

Evening

I have taken the initiative to find a bigger boat on the island. The biggest I can actually find is still too small, as it’s a medium sized shipping galley. Also, the captain of the ship refused to have it used to hunt the Leviathan.

So, I have decided to take drastic measures. I have grown my own boat. I’m glad I still remember my training from the elves on quick growth houses; I just turned the sapling sideways in the ocean, and grew the important parts. Now I just need to find a bigger “gun”.

Ivan and the Greenman once told me of a “gun” made of steel that had a 12” bore…there is no way to make such a beast on the island. What I have on me isn’t near big enough to take down a behemoth of the size we saw today, and there is no way I would go searching for their “cave of wonders” where they got their tools of destruction.

I will have to think on it while I sleep…

-

4th of Kusha…

Max’s dreams were unhappy throughout the night. Thoughts of giant ballista mounted on the deck, but nothing and no one strong enough to pull it back. Hand launched harpoons that wouldn’t be able to penetrate the beasts’ scales. His ship and crew being drowned, with him the only survivor. He awoke covered in a cold sweat, and went down to the public bath to soak.

While steaming himself in the bath, a young man walked in, covered head to toe with tattoos of the sea. Beautifully illustrated pictures of sea life that appeared to move as he walked to the large tub, and lay down in it.

“You seem to be having a problem.” The man spoke with the voice of a seasoned sailor.

“I am.” Max replied, “I’ve got a ship. I’ve got a crew. I lack the armament.”

“Oh, really?” The man asked. “What are you hunting?”

“The giant water snake that has driven the fishing fleet to the docks.” Max said. “I can’t think of a way to drive it off, let alone kill it.”

“That is an interesting conundrum.” The man spoke after a pause. “Have you tried asking it to leave?”

“I doubt that would work, but it would be nice if it did.” Max sighed. “But if, or more likely when, it refuses, I will need Something to get rid of it.”

The young man smiled a bright smile. “Not all creatures of the sea are as stupid as most people think.” The man got up, not bothering to dry off, or even cover himself with a towel. “I wish you luck, Heretic.” The man patted Max on the head, and was gone.

It took a few moments for things to sink into Max’s sleepy brain, then, abandoning his towel and clothing, he ran full tilt for the harbor. “Stupid. Stupid. Stupid!”

-

The small boat, really more like a dingy with a mast, sped over the waves. Max adjusted the sail and rudder on the fly to squeeze every drop of wind from the sky. Several hours, and swells that would normally swamp such a small boat, later, he reached his destination: the last sighting of the Leviathan. He furled the sail, and slowed his breathing for a bit, then yelled. “AHOY DOWN THERE!”

He repeated the call twice more, with no result. He sighed, “Well, it was worth a try.” Then the ocean under him started to bubble and froth, as a dark form rose from the depths.

“Whatsss isss it that thou wantsss, godling?” A voice from behind him hissed.

Max whirled in his seat, only to find himself staring into the slit pupil of an eye as big as a wagon wheel. “…First off, “I” am NOT a godling! How would you like it if I called you a “Silly Snake”?”

The head that held the giant eye reared back, and now both eyes stared at Max. The mouth of the Leviathan opened, revealing row after row of giant teeth, and the creature laughed. “Me? A Silly Snake?” The head, and body behind it, shook with laughter. “Old gods on high! You have the intestines! They must be made of Star Metal!”

Max just gaped.

“Little godling, if you weren’t one, I would never have heard your shout.” The serpent chuckled again, nearly swamping the small boat. “Nore would you be able to Talk to me! That is of the power of gods. Even lesser ones such as yourself.” The serpent dropped its head so its nostrils were almost touching max. “Yet…yet you smell like others…many others, and perhaps…something else? You have been touched.”

Max took several deep breathes, and immediately regretted it, as the smell from the beast’s nostrils made him almost gag. “So…So what?” He finally gasped out. “I’ve talked with, and shaken hands with several of the…better young gods.”

“Well, that would explain it, wouldn’t it?” The serpent laughed again. “Now, what do you want? I have whales to catch, and fishing nets to destroy.”

Max finally recovered. “Well, that’s it, actually. The nets and the ships. Could I possibly persuade you to steer clear of them? And maybe this whole chain of islands?”

“And why would I do that, godling?” The serpent replied. “Why should I give up my new found favorite hunting spot?”

“Because there are people around here that depend on the sea to live?” Max suggested.

“So what?” The serpent responded. “I also need to eat.”

“…” Max stopped talking, Okay, don’t appeal to his (her? its?) humanity, he has none. Maybe a better place to hunt? “How about a…different place to hunt? Someplace with “Interesting” things to eat?”

The head, which had been tracking something on the horizon, snapped back to Max. “Interesting to eat?”

“Yes. Well, they may not be there any more, a lot of them got eaten by other things from the depths…but there might be some left, hiding near the shoreline?”

“What kind of things?” A now rather curious serpent asked, body going still in the water.

“About a hundred and a half years ago, there was an infestation on the northwest of the continent.” Max replied, trying to wind up for his sales pitch. “The area has been abandoned by boats and people ever since.”

“Yes, yes. I’ve heard of the place.” The serpent said, starting to lose interest. “They call it The Isle of Glass now.”

Eyes twinkling, Max asked, “Did you ever hear what the infestation was?”

“No.” The serpent replied. “I never looked into it.”

“Creatures from across the veil of reality.” Max said. “The same ones the Old gods are fighting.”

The gigantic serpent stopped, hanging motionless in the ocean. “You don’t sssay.” Its eyes grew slightly larger as it pondered his words. “You aren’t lying to me.” It cocked its head to one side, then the other. “I…I haven’t had their flesh for so long…” The serpent licked its “lips”. “Sssooo looong…”

Max looked at the Leviathan. “Is that good enough to get you to leave, and not come back?”

“It may be.” The leviathan shook itself. “If they are still there in numbers, I will owe you a boon. If not, well, I will call on you at some point in your short little life, godling.” The Leviathan gave a very snake like smile, “What is your name? So, I know to, or from, whom a dept is owed?”

“My name is Maxwell.” Max replied, “Maxwell Smithson. But most simply call me “The Heretic”.”

“Hmm…The Heretic…Oh, the one who shots the avatars of the little gods?” The serpent chuckled again. “I remember when most of them were suckling at their mothers’ teats…” It sighed. “Those were the good old days…”

“So, we have a deal then?” Max asked, interrupting the reminiscing serpent.

“Yes. Very well, Maxwell The Heretic.” The Leviathan said, some sort of power in its voice. “We have an accord. A Boon for a Boon.” And the serpent sank below the water. And somewhere in the aether, a silver bell rang.

-

Several hours later, an exhausted and still naked Max arrived at the docks of Necallhill. As he climbed from the small boat, letting his legs uncramp, a group of sailors and other individuals gathered around him, asking questions all at once. Above the noise from the crowd, one dock hand yelled. “What happened? The fish have returned!”

“Well… I … I had a chat with the Leviathan?” Max said, the entirety of the conversation echoing through his head. “He, he agreed to leave the area?”

The questions continued, but Max was finally able to escape when Brianna, carrying a pair of breaches, cut through the crowd with sharp elbows, and an even sharper tongue.


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