120 Chapter One Hundred and Twenty – The Rockborn (1/2)
It had been two weeks since we'd last seen the Rockborn. Many things had changed.
Ten days, used properly, meant ten Levels. Ten Levels meant depth.
They hadn't seen Briggs in his armor, and a fair number of polished eyeballs nearly fell into thick beards when they saw him in skinplate and wielding a QL 35 Named Hammer with a mean streak for Warped blood.
Briggs could have reached Seven by now, but there was no need. He was grimly building his foundation, collecting the Secondary Class Levels he'd skipped by and Masteries he knew he'd need as he calmly gathered new Levels and Masteries. Yeah, he was paying Five prices for them, but the way his killing was taking off, it wasn't an issue at the moment. He was especially happy to smash a path through Lesser Demons and pound into the True ones when they were brought in. Nobody expected to take a 70-point hit from a pre-teen Neanderthal, after all, even high-Karma targets like that...
And I, of course, had something of a reputation explosion.
I knew there were multiple factors behind the fact. First, the dwarves had all seen me fight. Yeah, I'd been holding back, and even if they didn't want to believe the stories they were hearing, they knew I was dangerous.
Second, I was Admirable, because I was a Smith, and a damn good one. They'd watched us make Endure out of scrap metal, at breathtaking speed... and it was now one nasty piece of work, and getting nastier. Dwarves respected those who could work stone and metal.
Third, I was the Sage of Swords, and a Grandmaster of Swords. Those were not Titles which could be faked, and it only took a single line of Divine inquiry to confirm they were totally true.
Learning Briggs was a Grandmaster of the Hammer had no doubt shaken them. While the dwarves here were in no way wedded to the hammer like Tolkien's bunch, they'd also seen he was a very skilled smith, and watched him go Jotun-crushing with energy and zeal... and now everyone was talking about how he was ripping through lines of Warped like a Champion born.
Fourth, the Divine were talking about me. Regardless of race, the Powers of Heaven might be competitive, but when it came to Evil rearing its head, They'd share info through all sorts of channels to smash it back down. It was what Good people did. I'd started a big mess, I was making a bigger one, and They were passing whispers down to their clergy about me, even if They couldn't see me. Gods have influence.
Fifth, I had a Charisma of 30. Even if I didn't browbeat or hog the spotlight, I had Presence. +10 to Social rolls is no joke. I was perfectly aware I commanded attention wherever I went... and having 10 Ranks in Intimidation and Diplomacy gives one a certain carrot-and-stick air. Psychic pressure combined with body language, Gentle Giant and Brutal Aura combining to give my Strength bonus to both Skills, and Undaunted driving my Resolve bonus towards any warrior-type... which all these dwarves were. Combine with Skill Focus and the Mastery/5, plus Commanding Presence, and yeah, I had a walk-around +47 on the roll. Hoary old longbeards talked down to me exactly once, I blinked lazily at them, and after realizing they were about to take a head-first run through the nearest tree, their tones changed swiftly.
Sixth, I was Famous. The elves were talking about me. The Borderguard was talking about me. And very, very importantly, the Brotherhood of the Void was talking about me. The Mountain and the Hammer had come out, talked to his Brothers, and was making no secret of his opinion of me after that. He found me the day before we met up with the Rockborn, got himself Marked, and watched for himself what I was doing.
He left bearing a Hammer that looked rather similar to Endure, only more brutal and bigger. He went right to the dwarven leadership, stated his recommendations, and walked away.
Seventh, I had Leadership. It was a powerful Feat, because it made you a Leader of Men. There was no shirking, no retiring from the spotlight. I was a Leader, everyone could see it, and being a Human/3 made me an exemplar of my species, even if they didn't know it. On a purely instinctual level, they knew I was a powerful member of the human race, and they could not take me lightly.
Lastly, I was a Marshal with a personal leadership cap of four thousand. That was a totally Legendary limit, a Great Marshal washing over them with the iron and thunder of literally thousands of battles. When Tremble's Courageous kicked up and those Morale Bonuses hit +5, there was only thunder and fire in the soul, and no doubting my commands at all.
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The efficient dwarves had two hundred volunteers waiting for me when I arrived. They efficiently got their core officers and sergeants Marked up before they went out to fight, and watched the difference in timing and coordination with their own eyes, analyzing everything, recording decisions made as they followed my orders and watched the group of Warped taurs and anthros get butchered, Tremble's Song roaring through them like the music of the Gods. Two of their Chanters could only gape at the force of my commands carried on that Song, and picture what it could do for all their troops.
They gazed at The Map and the massiveness of the world around them, and suddenly, dwarves actually felt small.
They didn't have to beg their leaders to overcome their reservations. The consensus after the fight resolved with merciless precision was that it would have been even easier if more of their soldiers were Marked.
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Briggs slaughtered his way through three Warp Spawn, Estemar soloed one, and Rockborn officers butchered the rest as they appeared. The stag-horned, wolf-headed Shaman who Summoned them in was run over by dwarven ram-riders, used as a pinball, and then impaled from six directions at once when he refused to die, so one of the riders could reach over and swipe off his head with a glaive.
For eight hours I put on Marks, nearly a hundred more Rockborn receiving them, most of them from an elite, veteran spear company. What such elite troops could do with that level of a Marshal's Aura on them was going to rock the Warped hard.
Then Briggs and I forged out some sample kukris and falcatas made for dwarves. The power of the design at chopping motions, and the wicked ability of its drawcut, definitely got their attention, combining some of the best features of knife and axe. I got very deep into discussion with some smiths over the heft, balance, angle of cut and arc of blades, and then went through a full set of katas with several experienced infighters. Their large hands were perfect for manipulating the weapon, and when they saw how efficiently it disemboweled and could take off a head, yet could be used to parry easily against the forearm, I had some adventurous sorts willing to 'gather data' with the new weapons.
Of course, they almost fell over themselves when they saw Fall and Reach at work.
Ranged fire, rapid RoF, wheels and gears and mechanical power catering to Might instead of Power, and it scaled all the way up to ballista size in applicability.
The fact an autobow required magic to be better then a bow was a non-issue, as crafting magic Weapons was what Rockborn did better then anyone else. When I drew out the design schematics in holo and one of their Elders Captured it in a gem for later transferal to a proper medium, their crossbow captain was This Close to crying out in joy for the coming carnage. His whole company spent hours testing out Reach, racking the action, and mumbling into their beards about the rate of fire possible with the thing.
Discussions of rare metals that Briggs and I needed to actually make some truly decent Gear moved ahead smoothly at that point. Also, deep discussions about the possibility of establishing a hyn homeland between the elven and dwarven lands got some heavy discussion late into the night... between elves and dwarves hundreds of miles apart, fighting the same foes and having inklings that something bad was coming from the south.