John Miller
Stories
5
Chapters
3,439
Words
4.3 M
Comments
0
Reading
15 d, 0 h
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“Okay, lower the crucible.” “Aye, let’s do this!” A large container filled with molten hot metal was slowly tipped over with the help of clawed grippers. They were connected to a large golemic exoskeletal construct with a rather happy Bernir inside. The prosthetic hand moved as if it were his own, allowing him to control this runic machine with ease and precision. The molten metal poured into a large container, and the room was filled with the sharp tang of heated steel and the soft hum of…-
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“Master, Master Brylvia… MASTER!” “WHATTTTTTTT YE WANT?” A rather annoyed-looking female dwarf glared at one of her apprentices, who had continuously shouted in her direction while she was trying to peacefully examine some ridiculous-looking schematics. The human runesmith had returned to the city, and with him came a flood of strange plans and runic devices. Whenever he ordered something from her, she could be assured it would be mind-boggling and strange. However, it was always an opportunity…
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“It’s very similar. Could there be a connection, or is this model just something standard in this world? What do you think, Sebastian? Does this look familiar?” On top of a workbench lay an unassuming dark bracelet with a raven symbol on it. It hadn’t been long since the spy was apprehended, and this little black trinket had been used to sneak into the city. It hovered above a rounded plate filled with runes and was being examined by a floating orb of light. “Analyzing composition… The item…
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“My Lord.” “... Enter.” A man wearing a butler uniform stepped into the opulent office of Theodore Valerian. The room was adorned with rich, dark wood paneling and deep, crimson drapes that framed tall, narrow windows. The air was thick with the scent of aged books and polished leather. Theodore sat behind a grand mahogany desk, cluttered with various documents and arcane artifacts. The butler slowly approached the desk with measured steps, carrying a silver tray with a lone letter on…
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“ARghhhhhhh” “Ughhhhhhh….” “N-noooo…” “...” “That doesn’t sound like a goblin or a hobgoblin…” Roland, together with a maid who had orange cat ears, walked through a darkened corridor. In the distance, he could hear strange shouts indicating someone in a lot of distress. The woman next to him clearly knew what was happening but didn’t seem perturbed by the screams. The shouts grew louder as they progressed, and eventually, the maid, Mary, spoke out. “Since your return,…
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‘I suppose having friends in high places has its merits.’ Two craftsmen were attaching some heavy cables to a large platform. One was quite tall with a height of one hundred ninety-three, something he had achieved after his tier 3 rank trial. It was a phenomenon known as post-ascension growth and sometimes occurred to accommodate drastic changes to one's body. Luckily this growth had already stopped and now Roland could focus on the task at hand. “What’s that boss?” “What do you think it…
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“Quite the interesting gift you’ve brought me.” “I apologize, but there wasn’t really another facility to use at short notice, Lord Arthur.” “It’s fine, and you can call me Arthur down here.” “I’m not sure I should…” Roland remarked while glancing at a certain angry-looking cat-eared maid. The three of them were watching a group of soldiers transporting goblins and hobgoblins into holding cells. This place was created to hold tier 3 undead monsters from the dungeon, so…
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"Are you sure about this? Have you tested it properly?" Rastix nodded vigorously at the question, almost dropping his prized new creation. Roland raised an eyebrow at the concoction as he was unable to confirm the short man's claim. The gnome looked unusually enthusiastic, a lot different to his usual demeanor since most of his previous experiments had failed. "Yes, yes! Well, as much as I could before the explosion. But the preliminary tests were very promising. Here, let me show you, just let me use…
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“The geothermal generators seem to be running fine, the power storage is almost full. Glad I told them to create that power plant earlier. My workshop won’t be able to handle all this magical energy, at least not until I finish this project…” There was a geothermal power plant being created and assembled by both the Dwarven Union and the Builders' Guild. The dungeon was filled with free heated energy that they could easily harness. This level of power generation was far beyond what the small…
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"Alright, this is the moment of truth" Roland said, his voice tinged with both anticipation and concern as he held up the newly forged prosthetic arm. The intricate runes glowed faintly, casting a soft blue light in the dimly lit workshop. Bernir sat nearby, wearing a strange bowl-shaped helmet over his head. Cables attached to the chair gave the setup an eerie resemblance to the electric chairs used for executions. Additionally, a panel with some writing was to the side with what looked to be a…
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