4E 201, Shor's Stone
Gerron Ironbreaker
Redbelly Mine was named appropriately due to the red mist that always clung to the bottom of the dig. The mist was a mystical thing, for no one truly knew the how and why of its existence.
But after realizing that the mist itself was neither poisonous nor toxic, the people of Shor's Stone merely chalked it up to another magical phenomenon and ignored it. Gerron used to be the same way, for all Nords were always wary of anything magical.
But he was a different man now, and it didn't take him long to realize the origins of the seemingly magical mist. Just west of the mine was a place called Redwater Spring, a place said to be rich in many ingredients for alchemy. There were rumors about the place being a secret hangout for skooma addicts, others saying it was a hideout for the Thieves Guild. The spring contained much of the same red mist, and the mist itself easily went through the natural cracks in the stone and ended up in Redbelly Mine.
Aside from that, Gerron was ready to enter the mine. Clad in the maul and shield, he opted to wear a set of heavy armor he had previously created for the Stormcloaks. It wasn't his best work, as all his craft for the Stormcloaks were all done in a rush job, but it should be enough.
He was good with a hammer, and two decades of working in the smith gave him muscles any Nord would be proud of. He was just shy of seven feet tall, with long braided blonde hair and blue eyes, Gerron was no stranger to physical labor.
There was a part of him that knew running headfirst into a nest of Frostbite Spiders alone was the epitome of foolishness, but another part of him relished in the challenge.
It was still late into the night, putting on the horned iron helmet, he cracked his neck and went forth.
…
The moment he entered the mine, a damp chill washed over him. The walls were slick with condensation, and the air carried the heavy scent of damp earth mixed with spider musk.
Any torches here had long since gone out, only the rays of moonlight giving him any sense of sight from the cracks of the stone above him, revealing the wooden beams that supported the tunnels.
The skittering of legs and the faint sound of chittering echoed through the tunnels. His grip tightened on the hammer.
The first section of the mine was straightforward. The wooden path sloped downward to the left, leading to a sturdy wooden bridge spanning a large circular pit. Looking down from the bridge, Gerron spotted several Frostbite Spiders, their grotesque, bulbous forms twitching as they skittered across the floor.
"Divines watch over me. Time to get to work."
He didn't bother with stealth. He clanged his hammer on his shield repeatedly, the sound catching the spider's attention. It didn't take long for waves of them to climb on the walls and charge him.
The first few were simple, their fangs meeting the strong steel of his shield as he crushed them beneath his hammer. Another lunged without warning, mandibles clicking as it tried to sink its fangs into his shoulder.
Gerron raised his shield in time, but was caught slightly off guard by the force of the impact that nearly knocked him off balance. He shoved back hard, sending the creature sprawling, and brought his hammer down on its bulbous head. A sickening crunch signaled its demise.
He continued deeper, descending down the rocky walls as the spider's numbers grew and grew. The confined tunnels became a battlefield where the spiders had the advantage, darting from cracks in the walls, lunging at him from above.
Gerron gritted his teeth as one of them managed to climb onto his back and sink its fangs in, only for his armor to hold. He swung wildly, crushing the creature's body against the wall.
From the shadows, another two skittered toward him. He took a step back, putting his shield up, but a third spider suddenly dropped down from above. He cursed and rolled to the side just as it landed where he had stood, its fangs sinking into the dirt instead of his flesh.
A dozen spiders surrounded him in the deeper chambers. Gerron could feel his breath quicken. His shield arm was beginning to ache, but the thrill of the fight set his blood aflame.
He stood his ground, refusing to retreat. He slammed his hammer into a wooden support beam, sending a cascade of loose rock and dust down onto the spiders, forcing them back. He tilted over a wheelbarrow, using it as a makeshift barricade to funnel them toward him one by one.
He continued fighting, slowly moving back step by step until he reached the bridge once more. He stood in the middle of it, making use of the narrow passage to prevent them from overwhelming him.
But then, as he bashed another spider aside, he heard it—a deep, splintering crack. The bridge. One of the massive support beams groaned as another spider lunged, forcing Gerron to stumble back.
His foot caught on the edge of a loose plank, and before he could regain his footing, the entire bridge beneath him shuddered violently. With a thunderous snap, the wood gave way.
Gerron barely had time to react before the structure collapsed, sending him and several of the spiders tumbling into the depths below. He crashed hard onto the lower level, rolling with the impact as the remains of the bridge rained down around him.
Dust and debris filled the air, and the sickening screeches of the fallen spiders echoed through the cavern. His head pounded, but he forced himself up, shield raised, hammer at the ready. More of the creatures skittered toward him from the darkness, undeterred by the collapse.
Gerron spat out a mouthful of dust and grinned. "Well come on then!"
Facing overwhelming odds such as this, he laughed—a deep, hearty laugh that echoed throughout the mine.
His ancestors had been warriors. He had always been a smith, content with the heat of the forge. But this? This was what had been missing.
A deep chuckle rumbled in his chest as he strode forward, hammer raised high.
The spiders surged.
He met them with steel and fury, laughter on his lips.
The forge had shaped him. Now the battlefield would temper him.
And he welcomed it.
…
How long has it been? Hours, perhaps?
As he crushed the last spider with a mighty swing, he stood back up with heavy breaths. He was in the last part of the mine, with one last area where the infestation was at its worst.
He looked like a man that had gone through a battlefield, covered as he was in green spider blood. His armor was worse for wear, having been dented in several places while the chain shirt beneath was torn.
However, the hammer and shield were still in perfect condition. As he lifted both to examine them, he detected none of the supposed breakage that any weaponry should have after a fight such as that.
He grinned. This, this is what he was looking for.
That was when he noticed something odd. He gazed at an unassuming section of the rock wall. There were dark veins that ran through the stone, it went deeper than he could see, but something at the back of his mind tingled at the sight of it.
He stepped closer, reaching out with a hand.
[Ebony Ore]
A rare, black, glass-like ore, considered to be one of the strongest materials found in all of Tamriel.
The strange letters appeared once more, and his heart pounded in his chest. "Ebony... here?" The words left his lips in disbelief.
The Redbelly Mine had always been an iron mine. A struggling one at that. Grogmar gro-Burzag, the older orcish miner, had mentioned more than once that the mine was rapidly drying. Before the whole spider infestation, the miners barely met their weekly quotas. There were even days where they spent the entire day mining and would come up with nothing.
Filnjar was the only one who didn't believe it. The man was optimistic to his very bone. The mine was drying up. Or so they thought.
Gerron felt his hands tighten into fists. With this... with this, everything could change. His work, his craft—it could surpass even the finest Skyforge steel. He could surpass Eorlund Gray-Mane and be known by all as the greatest blacksmith to walk the lands of Skyrim.
A grin split his face as he grabbed a pickaxe from a nearby tool rack. He swung, striking the vein with precision, guided by an instinct he didn't fully understand but welcomed nonetheless. Chunks of ebony ore fell into his hands. He had the means. He had the knowledge. Now, he had the material.
But there was more mine left to clear, and Gerron had no intention of stopping now. Putting all the ore into a sack, he swung it across his shoulder and tied it there.
With his newfound strength, he pressed forward into the darkest depths of the mine, where the infestation was at its worst. The skittering of countless legs echoed in the tunnels ahead. He relished the thought.
Tonight, he would claim this mine in full, and tomorrow, all of Shor's Stone would know what had been lying beneath their feet all along.
…
Filnjar
Filnjar woke up to a cacophony of noise. It was barely dusk, with the sun not even risen yet.
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Stumbling out of his house, he gazed at the numerous people gathered outside Redbelly Mine. Spotting Sylgja, he approached.
"What in oblivion is going on?! What is with all this noise?"
The Nord girl replied, clutching a pickaxe in one hand. "Grogmar woke us up, said that he spotted Gerron walking in the mine fully armored."
Filnjar was shocked. "What?! By the divines, that's suicide! What is that boy thinking?!"
She shrugged. "Gerron always did see himself as more of a warrior than any of us. Saw him practice swinging swords or axes in the field whenever he finished a job for the Stormcloaks late in the night."
"It takes more than swinging swords to be a good warrior, lass," he grunted. "And why is everyone just standing here? Did no one think to help the lad?"
"We tried, Filnjar. But the bridge was broken when we got there. We were worried for him, but then we heard a laugh coming from inside. It was Gerron." she said.
Filnjar asked incredulously. "He…laughed?"
She shrugged. "That's what he heard."
Filnjar frowned as he gazed at the dark entrance of the mine. He didn't know what Gerron was thinking. The lad was a capable blacksmith, much more than Filnjar, but he never knew the boy was a warrior.
Filnjar knew Gerron's parents well, he even promised to look after him when they both went and joined the war while promising to send letters by courier whenever they could.
That was back when Gerron was still only a wee lad of eleven. By the time the lad was thirteen, the letters stopped coming. It wasn't hard to realize what happened to them. Filnjar decided to take him in as an apprentice in his smith, and that was when they learned the boy had talent for it.
Thirteen years later and Gerron had long surpassed Filnjar. Filnjar always knew that Gerron had large dreams in his head. Always said that he wanted his name to be known all across Skyrim.
Filnjar had laughed then. He wasn't laughing now.
Gerron had always loudly exclaimed his frustrations with the current situation with the mine. Especially considering his trade relied heavily on the iron that the miners could procure by the day. When the spiders appeared, he was forced to halt most of his personal projects due to the lack of resources.
Filnjar never knew those frustrations would lead him to do this.
He didn't know when he started to see the boy as his own. But with him deep in the mine, led by what could only be youthful vigor and foolishness, he hoped by all the divines that he would be alright.
That was when they heard it. The soft pats of iron boots meeting the ground. They all looked up to see a sight none there would ever expect.
Gerron walked out of the mine covered in spider blood, looking like he had gone through a battlefield and walked away alive. A round steel shield was on one hand while the other was a one-handed hammer, spotless as if it had been cleaned just minutes ago. He wore an open-faced, horned iron helmet, revealing the large grin on his face that relieved Filnjar's worries.
He dragged a wheelbarrow with him, filled with a strange black ore. The people of Shor's Stone gazed at him in stunned silence. Filnjar was the first to step forward, his face twisted in disbelief and relief.
"You're alive," the blacksmith breathed.
Grogmar let out a low whistle, arms crossed. "I'll be damned. Thought for sure you'd be spider food."
Sylgja scoffed, arms folded. "You mean to tell me you went in there alone and came back in one piece? Either you're the luckiest bastard in Skyrim, or you've been holding out on us."
Gerron only grinned at their words. His eyes met Filnjar's then. "Filnjar! You'll never guess what I found in the mines!" He shouted, tossing a chunk of ore to Filnjar. The older blacksmith caught it instinctively, his eyes widening as he recognized the unmistakable black sheen.
"Ebony," Filnjar whispered. "Incredible."
Grogmar took a step closer, mouth slightly open. "That's impossible. The mine was dried up. I've been working it for years, we barely scraped by before the spiders came. There was never any ebony here."
Sylgja whistled, shaking her head. "Gerron, are you saying the mine is full of this?"
Gerron nodded, still grinning. "Aye. Not just a little either. The deeper I went, the more veins I found. It was hidden, layered beneath the old iron veins. I wouldn't have even noticed it if I didn't hit the wall accidentally with my hammer."
"And the spiders?" asked Filnjar.
Gerron smirked. "Dead. Every last one of them."
Filnjar looked at Gerron, truly looked at him. The boy he had raised was no longer a boy. He had become a man—both a warrior and a smith. And though the sight of him bloodied and grinning like a madman sent a shiver of worry down his spine, he could not deny the pride that swelled within him.
"Well, lad," Filnjar sighed, shaking his head with a small smile. "I suppose we have some work to do."
…
AN: There goes the second chapter! I'm having a lot of fun writing this fic.
The Artificer System grants a bunch of different abilities. The ones already included are a special vision to detect any raw materials in his vicinity, knowledge of a bunch of different artifacts, another special vision to detect impurities and imperfections in his creations, as well as perfecting his actions whenever he does artificer things (smithing, mining, etc.)
There are a bunch of other things he was given, but those will be revealed later.
Hope you guys enjoyed the chapter! Cheers!