Mature Content Warning: Not much at all to be warned about.

Author's Note: This section of the chapter is now ready. A little of blackthorne's somewhat remembered knowledge about creating chainmail items is made apparent, and he prepares for the next arc of the story.

Chapter 5.2: Grassland Armorer

The town of Argent was a lively place, somewhat small compared to many towns on Earth, and filled with all manner of people. He did not see too many non-human faces but there was an occasion short guy who might be a dwarf and a few others who could be something else.

Blackthorne did not care much for the different races at the moment. What he was considered with was finding the armorer and having a chat. He had eaten lunch and was restored to full health, and his equipment was clean enough not to make people stare at him and pull their children away. That was a drastic change from the last time he had wandered the streets. He did not count the time that he walked out the front gate recently, as he had made no detours.

The armorer’s shop had no name, like most businesses might. Instead it had a large wooden sign out front with a crudely drawn painting of an anvil on it. Whether the dream world worked mostly on iconography or many people did not know how to read, he could not tell. Either way, he had been here before so he knew the purpose of the place. Patrolman Greene had been surly, but he had escorted him around without fail.

He walked inside the front entrance and immediately took notice of the room. Unlike the ramshackle appearance that a true medieval business might portray, the armorer’s shop was exceptionally tidy. He walked by glass covered display cases, a definite anachronism in his point of view, and saw various numbers light up. The windows displayed information for the items that resided inside the cases.

Blackthorne was not here to buy any equipment today, sadly. He did not think that he could afford much, and what he could afford was probably not much better than something he could make out of blades of grass.

He passed a small group of people who stood in admiration of a suit of quilted armor. The light blue ensemble would keep the wearer warm and aid in resisting the ever present call of death.

There were perhaps a dozen people in the store that he could see. Each of them went about their business in search of one item or another. In many ways it was like walking through a modern store instead of a medieval armor shop.

Blackthorne arrived at the front counter and immediately struck up a conversation with the young man behind the counter. “Excuse me. I am new in town. Do you know of any place that I can purchase wire or rings that you might use to craft items with?”

The man blinked at Blackthorne then nodded. “Well, we mostly make our own and use them. I suppose we could sell you a bit of the surplus. What do you need?”

The mage showed the man the grassmaile bracelet. “I want to try and make a few of these out of copper, iron, or silver. Do you have either of those?”

“Well, we have a bit of copper and iron wire. You would have to pre-order the silver and wait for it to be drawn and gauged.”

Blackthorne rubbed his chin. The silver could wait. The iron was something he was a bit more interested in at the moment. It would make better equipment for a heavy armor user. “How much for the iron wire?”

“Depends on the gauge and hardness, I guess.”

“I’m not sure if you use the same measurements I do. I am from a good distance away and recently lost my tools. What gauge would you say you use for small ringed chainmail?”

“Right, hmm... Light or heavy?”

“Heavy...” said Blackthorne. He was a little surprised by the question. He had never been able to make a chainmail shirt of his own that did not look like rough garbage, but he did know that the size of the ring diameter had a lot more to do with the weight of the armor than the gauge of the wire. Though, it did play a part.

“It’d depend on the size of the ring you plan to make, but I’d suggest at least sixteen gauge wire if not fourteen. I wouldn’t go lower than a twenty gauge, though.” said the shop keeper.

Blackthorne’s eyes lit up. That sounded familiar, and the armorer had answered one of his unvoiced questions. “I use measurements known as diameter and inch when it comes to the size of rings. Is that the same here in Argent?”

“Well, that’s what we call out measurements too, around here. If you’d gone up to say Addlebrock, you’d start finding people who use something they call centimeters.” said the man.

That was entirely too convenient and made Blackthorne wonder at the nature of the dream world again. He would no argue about it, however. The world was obviously connected to Earth in some way otherwise the dreaming populace would not come here in the first place.

“Do you happen to have any mandrels or tools for sale? Mine were lost.”

“Aye, I suppose we do... Say, do you have any skill with making maile?”

“Just simple designs like this, and even then only with accessories like bracelets.” said Blackthorne.

The shop keeper eyed the grassmaile bracelet once more then rubbed his chin. “Tell you what... I am forever low on iron. If you’re willing to do some work for me, I can get you all the iron wire and tools you need.”

“Sounds like something I’d be interested in... Go on.” said Blackthorne.

“Well, I don’t have the time that I used to have when it comes to preparing and foraging my materials. If you’re willing to go scrounge up some iron for me at the mine to the north and bring enough ore back to fill my ore bin, I’ll get you some tools and make ten percent of it into wire for you.”

“I don’t know anything about mining...” said Blackthorne carefully.

“It’s not hard man, just take a pickaxe and slam it into some rocks. You’re bound to find some iron eventually, just don’t go too deep into the mine area.”

“How much ore would that take?” asked the mage.

“Bought six thousand units or so. If you don’t know what an ore unit is, it’s a chunk of iron about the size of a chicken egg.”

Blackthorne thought about that for a moment. He was no master blacksmith, but six thousand units of iron would be able to make a lot of iron equipment. “So, how much sixteen gauge wire would I get out of that?”

The shop keeper grinned at him. “Well, I am an accomplished level forty-six armorer. My smelting skill just reached one hundred thirty-six. What does that tell you?”

“It tells me that I wish I knew more about blacksmithing.” replied Blackthorne lightly.

The armorer laughed loudly then nodded. “Good answer. Tell you what. I’m skilled enough that I can usually turn one unit of iron into roughly eighty feet of wire at that gauge. I’ll add a little to it and make it an even five thousand feet.”

Blackthorne blinked. He was not certain that there was even enough iron in that many units to make that much wire. This world really was a fantasy. The armorer’s skills obviously bolstered production levels. “That much wire, I just did the math... I could possibly make an entire hauberk and then some with that...If I had any idea what I was doing.”

He had loved fantasy literature when he was younger and had often woven grass and other things into jewelry and he had even tried to make a chain shirt in the past. It could easily take ten thousand rings or more to make a shirt that would cover him properly. Five thousand feet of wire, with a quarter of an inch diameter would be about right, with a good bit left over.

The shop owner nodded. “Yes, but there would be wasted rings and other things. Besides, accessories will earn you more money.”

“Hmm? Well, I suppose I could make a lot more bracelets with that much wire.”

“That’s the spirit! If they are worth a damn, I’ll buy em.” said the armorer. He glanced down at the grassmaile bracelet that Blackthorne wore.

“Really?” asked Blackthorne. He was more than happy to train his skills and offload his stuff for profit.

“Yeah, say... Is that bracelet really made of grass?” asked the man.

“Yes, I did not have anything else to work with.” replied Blackthorne. He took it off and let the armorer check it out.

He looked it over then made a face before he handed it back with a nod. “Not bad. There really is only so much you can do with a material like that, but you could probably sell them for a Jerin each. You’d do more with iron, or better yet, steel.”

“Well, I’ll get right on that.” said Blackthorne. He offered the armorer a smile and the man smiled back. No money had changed hands but they would both get something that they needed in the coming days.

They talked about the mine’s location for a moment then parted ways. A few people wanted to make purchases and Blackthorne wanted to head to the general store. He had a few items to purchase before he headed out to punish the earth and steal its metal children for fun and profit.

***