Scales of the Smith – Part 3

This is the conclusion to Clever’s short story, Scales of the Smith. Make sure to read Part 1 and Part 2 before continuing.

…

The next morning, the band of heroes converged on Viggo’s smithy. He was exhausted from a sleepless night, but had reached a decision by dawn. He greeted the men heartily. It was clear they did not recognize him as the man at the stables the day before. They treated him respectfully, even if their orders were phrased more as demands than requests.

“I’ll have one of those enchanted swords I’ve heard tale of, the ones of unparalleled strength that can vanquish any foe,” Sigurd told him.

“This armor belonged to my grandfather, and doesn’t fit as well as it could. Resize it, touch up the nicks, and give it a good polish. I only trust one such as yourself with enchanted armor.” Thidrek handed him a golden suit of armor. “It is impenetrable,” he added proudly.

The third hero, he had heard called Gunther, demanded a shield that would protect him from any blow. 

Viggo examined the armor and pondered their requests. “I can do the jobs, but three enchanted items, even if one is just a repair, will take time. A fortnight, likely.”

“Pah, surely it can be done faster,” Sigurd said.

Viggo looked him in the eye. “If you do not believe me, you may go ask another blacksmith who is familiar with making magical weapons.” They both knew the only others with this skill were dwarves, and they would have to travel great lengths and still likely be refused such a request. The dwarves were notoriously picky about bestowing their gifts on humans. 

Without another word, the men handed over their payments, mounted their horses and galloped away. 

…

Sweat dripped down Viggo’s face and his arms were sore. This was the hardest he had ever worked in the forge. The only time he saw his wife was when she brought his meals to the smithy, and when he kissed her goodnight before falling into bed. He did nothing but work, eat, and sleep, to ensure he met his deadline. It was crucial that every item was perfect. 

He pounded dents out of Thidrek’s armor and polished it to a gleam. He flattened and quenched the sword for Sigurd. He grinded and welded a formidable shield for Gunther. He admired each of the items sadly; such beauty and strength was wasted on these men that called themselves heroes. 

But he wasn’t done yet. He shaped scales, linked chains, and added leather straps. He tested every bit of his work before heading toward the mountains. All that was left was the runes. 

Fafnir obligingly taught him the necessary runes and fired the metals for him, once he revealed his plan. 

“Go on, see if it fits,” Fafnir said.

“I’ll need to climb on your back,” Viggo warned him.

“Yes, yes fine,” he said with a sigh.

Viggo strapped on the massive scaled breastplate as carefully as he could, adjusting as the dragon informed him of where it felt tight or loose. At last, Fafnir seemed comfortable.

“How do I look?” Fafnir asked a little self-consciously.

Viggo laughed. “Quite striking, and very fierce.”

The dragon stretched himself tall. “It seems I am prepared then, but are you?”

“I’d not let them kill you, no matter the cost.”

Fafnir nodded, and then turned to rummage through his mound of treasure. He scooped up a claw full of treasure and deposited it in front of Viggo. They both looked at it, and before Viggo could respond the dragon added a sizable ruby to the pile.

“Your payment, for a job well done.”

Viggo blinked. “I didn’t need payment, and this is far too much.”

“A small price to pay for my life.”

…

After presenting the heroes with their weapons and armor, for which he received no thanks, except a satisfied nod of the head after they had tested the items, Viggo returned to Fafnir’s cave. They would now await the attack. 

At midday they heard boots stomping through the forest, no attempt made to disguise the steps. Fafnir snorted at the arrogance of this so-called hero. Sigurd swaggered into the cave, sword raised, before stopping short at the sight of Viggo.

“Have you dared to try and beat me to the beast’s treasure?” Sigurd spat. “Clearly you have failed, and are now taken prisoner. Despite your deception, I shall still rescue you. That is what heroes do, after all.”

Sigurd raised his sword again, bracing for attack, and then frowned. He scanned the dragon’s armor, trying to puzzle out how to defeat the creature now.

“I will allow you one chance to flee this cave,” Fafnir boomed out, “before I eat you.”

Viggo’s mouth twitched. The dragon didn’t eat humans, but Sigurd didn’t know that.

Sigurd gulped. He slowly lowered his sword, taking a step back. Then, he charged at the dragon, hoping to catch him off guard. 

Fafnir roared and swiped the hero aside, knocking him into the cave wall. Sigurd stood and came at him again, jumping the next claw that came at him. Sigurd slashed with his blade, but it only bounced off the armor, barely leaving a scratch. He rolled, as Fafnir blasted fire where he had just stood. 

Jumping to his feet, he stabbed his sword between scales on the dragon’s side, above the armor. He was able to get the tip of the sword in, but the overlap of the scales prevented it from going in further at that angle. The armor had done its job, and Sigurd was unable to stab anywhere he could have done significant damage. Fafnir roared and raked his claws across Sigurd’s armor, leaving huge dents, but not piercing through. However, the impact knocked him down and wrenched the sword free. 

Fafnir let out a breath of flame across the lower half of the hero’s body, turning his armor glowing orange, like it had just come out of the forge. Sigurd screamed and rolled away. The dragon paused his assault, and Sigurd lay on the ground panting. 

“Those burns can be healed. Go now, before I do worse,” Fafnir rumbled.

“Fine, I shall just go…and find another d-dragon that doesn’t have that…ridiculous armor,” Sigurd said between winces of pain. He managed to stand and drag himself out.

“You know,” Fafnir said. “I quite like this armor, and I shall spread the word. I believe you may have just found a new clientele, one with substantially more wealth.” He nudged his mountain of treasure.

Viggo smiled before replying, “And a more honorable one, at that.”

…

What did you think of this story? Who would you have chosen, the heroes or the dragon? Let us know in the comments!

Thanks so much for reading!

-Clever & WTF