Strangely, Seras was looking forward to speaking with Hed. After her training as both a police officer and an agent of Hellsing, she felt odd without the weight of a weapon in her hand. Was that bad? To want a fight? When did she become so aggressive? Regardless, this place was definitely not where she wanted to caught exposed.
The matron had told her to look on the west side, outside the walls of the city, where a thick river of lava cut through the cavern. There, on a granite island amidst the rushing liquid magma, was a small workshop. Its only connection to the opposite side of the gorge was an old creaking bridge. The workshop was shaped from the very stone it stood on, almost forming a mushroom cap atop the huge pillar. Several smaller chimneys ringed a large central spout which constantly spewed a thick plume of smoke. Here and there, she could see cannons aiming in all directions, a potent deterrent against aggressors.
Gingerly taking her first steps onto the bridge, Seras tested the old wood. It shook, but held. Making her way across, she tried not to look down at the raging river of molten rock below. A huge bubble of gasses popped, and the rush of hot air made her yelp in fear and run full speed to the other side. She practically kissed the ground, and the Mentor could only laugh at her hysterics.
"What's wrong Keeper? Fear of heights?" Seras pulled down an eyelid and blew a loud raspberry at the apparition.
The workshop had seemed small from a distance, but up close, Seras could see how large it actually was. The thick pillar that held it above the running lava was not just support; it was part of the building itself. The walls may have looked like stone, but she could see the intricate details hiding numerous reinforcements and traps, both mundane and magical.
A shrill alarm blared, and dozens of potent cannons swiveled in her direction. Without warning, over twenty cannons fired simultaneously in her direction. The first salvo left a blistering crater in the ground, but she had already disappeared from view. Left and right, backward and forward, she danced in and out of the line of fire like a mirage.
"Don't nobody read the signs? NO VISITORS!"
The specter he seemed to be enjoying the show. Cannon balls repeated phased through his spectral body, but left not a trace of their passing. He pointed to a single door of reinforced steel. That was her way in. Now to get past this damned barrage.
"I'll blast ye straight to the Abyss!"
It was at times like this that Seras appreciated the perks of vampirism. Her unnatural speed, agility and reflexes let her easily stay ahead of the sentry fire. But this was a real obstacle. If she stayed put for even a second, those cannons would blow her to pieces. Those balls weren't just iron either; she could feel them humming with magic as they passed. Hell, even retreat wasn't an option. She knew from her own experience using the Harkonnen that guns like these had a very long reach, and these in particular moved with a singular purpose. It was as if there was a consciousness directing their fire.
All right. This would take perfect timing on her part, and a considerable amount of luck.
..........
The old troll was nervous. Something that hadn't happened in a long time. His automated sentry cannon system was the impassable hazard that prevented trespassers from reaching his workshop. How had this girl gotten past his defenses? The alert wards detected life from quite a distance away, yet she'd walked right passed them without so much as a blip of a warning. The human certainly didn't look like one of the undead. Where was the rot? The decay? She moved with the grace of a dancer, at a speed that would have torn a normal human's body apart in moments. Magic? Wards weren't picking any of that up either. Just what in the blasted hells was she? To his shame, his cannons hadn't even grazed her. He had been forced to take manual control, and even then, his old eyes couldn't keep up with her. He couldn't keep this up much longer. His rapid-reload mechanism was meant to allow the cannons to blast away whole packs of looters and thieves, not waste valuable ammunition on a single whelp. At this rate, he'd burn through his entire reserve in the next two minutes.
Then, it happened. He hadn't even seen her slip up. But in a split second, hell rained down on her position like the wrath of the dark gods. A cloud of smoke and shattered stone followed, and he saw tattered scraps of cloth drift on the breeze. He wanted to jump and whoop with joy, but he knew better than to relax his guard.
Unshackling himself from the awkward harness, he grabbed his trusty shillelagh and opened the thick steel door to his home. His 'yard' was a mess. Pits and craters were everywhere, and the perfectly smooth stone was riddled with small cracks and covered in a layer of gravel. There, just ahead, was the smoldering pit where the intruder had met her end. Stepping forward, the old troll began to sift through the broken stone for any remains. No blood? He would have at least expected some burnt giblets. Then, a flash of blue caught his eye. Pulling the fabric free, he inspected the torn uniform. There was an insignia, a red and black checkered shield with a gold tower and some sort of phrase. Above it was a name.
A pair of furry brows pushed together. "Who in a devil's burnt arse is Hellsing?"
A crack appeared beneath his feet and the old troll had only a second's warning before a gloved hand punched through the stone and grabbed him by the beard. Bright red eyes and a fanged smile gleamed in the dark, and the troll cursed under his breath. His club swung down in an arc, but the girl caught it in her free hand without any effort.
DAMN! He'd enchanted that shillelagh with a kinetic multiplication spell! It would have had the power of a giant's fist, and she took that with an open palm?
"Hello. My name is Seras Victoria. And I'd really appreciate it if you stopped shooting at me."
...........
After the old troll got done with his heart attack, he led the innocent-looking girl with eyes of hellfire into his humble abode. Not like he could have stopped her if he wanted to. She briefly stopped at the entrance, one foot raised, as if she wasn't sure of herself. She gently toed the floor before deciding it was safe to enter.
"What you tip-toein' for? I ain't got any traps like that set up in here. Only wind up hurtin' meself. Learned that one from experience." The old troll waggled a foot, showing off a couple missing toes. The room they were in seemed to be some kind of miniature guard center, with a number of thick cords leading into an odd harness hanging from the ceiling. It had a huge helmet with an eye carved into the face. Beneath that was another one of those odd magic mouths attached to a copper pipe. A black door with odd inscriptions led elsewhere.
"Manual targeting and fire control for the cannons?" The old troll had to do a double take. Most Underworlders didn't know or care how any of his contraptions worked, but this slip of a girl did? "They're a bit too heavy to be effective on a single target, at least one that can move like me. The space between shots was too quick for a loading team. An automated system?" The troll hesitantly nodded, and the ghost wore a surprised grin. "I'd aim for the space where the target would land, rather than try to follow it constantly. And it was voice activated?" The troll nodded once more. "Nice work." She held out her hand expectantly and smiled. "Master Hed, I presume?"
The old troll took her slender hand in his own gnarled paw, and felt an incredibly strong grip that shouldn't belong to such a small human. "Ain't nobody called me 'Master' before. Where'd you learn the craft?"
She giggled and waved her hands. "Oh no. I'm don't know how to make any of this. I was a weapons specialist before I came to the Underworld. I used to work with ranged weapons all the time."
"Must've been some serious work." His eyes wandered over to the ghost, who'd been eyeing a fabulously inscribed breastplate. "You. Your the Mentor, aren't you?"
The ghost floated forward and made a curt bow. "I am. This talented young woman is Keeper Victoria, my charge. She is in need of your considerable skills. Pay is no issue."
"Ugh. Another Keeper. Great." Hed pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "Follow me." The troll pressed his hand against the black door, and a pale crystal at the top of the frame glowed green. An internal lock mechanism popped open, and the door swung open.
Fingerprint scanner? Since she'd gotten here, she'd observed very little in the form of technological advancement. Hed's work was the most progressive she'd seen, and even his relied on magic. Looks like I have a lot to learn, Seras bemoaned.
The next room appeared to be his living space, with a large bookcase, thick fur rugs on the floors, and heavy cask of beer in the corner. Walking past her, Hed settled himself in a large chair fashioned from some form of mushroom and covered in furs. Immediately it reclined, allowing the grumpy smith to rest his feet, and she noticed some odd switches and levers next to his fungal throne.
"I don't typically do business like this. If you wanted somethin' made, you shoulda just made an order."
"We apologize, Master Hed, but my charge was unaware of your purchasing policies, and is in need of your fine works."
"Coulda fooled me. Anyone who can dodge enchanted cannon shot should have no problem stayin' outta danger. But whatever, pick out what you like and we'll talk." He idly flipped a switch, and one of the walls opened to reveal a show room containing an abundance of master-crafted ar or and weapons.
She was floored by how beautiful it all was. Hed chuckled at her astounded expression, "Like I said, I don't do walk-ins. These are the orders that never got picked up due to a bad case of dead." Weapons of all shapes and sizes, forged from all manner of metals. Armor of all sizes and style, from plate and chain to leather and even glass! Many had grim or intimidating ornamentation like spikes and skulls, but they were all incredible.
"From your acrobatics out front, I get the impression you'd like something that'll let you run and breathe. I got plenty of that. Ain't no metal that I can't shape, no weapon I can't perfect."
Seras had wandered over to marvel at the incredible displays. She stopped at a splint-mail suit with a breast plate shaped like a dragons head. "I imagine your light armor is a popular choice for customers with slim figures."
"Aye. Splint mail is a favorite of the more martially inclined elves, capable of protectin' their vital regions without sacrificing movement or agility. That one's high-tempered steel, enchanted with fire immunity and speed. You could wade through a sea of lava in that, and not even break a sweat."
He gestured to another suit of steel chain and black leather with a bat motif. "That there has an enchantment makin' the wearer as silent as the grave." He wagged a finger at a fine suit of what looked to be scale mail that shimmered a violet hue. "Magestone, enchanted to be as light and comfy as silk undies, and strong enough to survive a dragons jaws. Damn fool never came to collect. Probably ended up in something ugly's stomach. At least I got paid up front."
Seras stopped in front of a strange suit of black glass, its surface occasionally flickering with hues of red, green and blue. "Doesn't it seem a little counter-intuitive to make a suit of armor out of glass?"
"Ah! You'd think, but with the proper preparation and magic, obsidian can be as tough as dragonscale and half the weight. Needed to call in a favor with the Black Circle to finish that beauty. Tricky work. Blessed by the Dark Gods to stop any kind of magical assault, and tough enough to wear on the front lines of any battle. A shame really. The poor sod that commissioned it apparently failed a task from his god. Didn't end well for him."
"Ranged weapons?" While Seras was certainly capable of fighting up close, she was more comfortable keeping her foes at a distance. She also wondered if there was anything that she wouldn't accidentally break. She'd tried to use a normal rifle during training at the Hellsing estate, and the thing had snapped in half.
"Plenty. Short bows, longbows, dual and heavy crossbows, arbalests, javelins and even slings. All enchanted, and with modified ammunition." He flicked another switch, and a wall panel with a rack of exotic blades swung round to reveal several examples. "The redwood short bow is enchanted to fire exploding arrows, and the engraved silver crossbow is strong enough to pierce enchanted plate. That greenish-blue one? Enchanted to fire acid and punch through magic barriers."
Seras looked over them all, salivating at the beautiful weaponry. They looked like they belonged in an art show, but she didn't doubt for a second their lethality. "These are amazing! Why would anybody not want to buy these?"
The old troll only shrugged. "Not a lot of people can afford my prices, and anybody who can tends to be on the picky side."
The Mentor was also examining the collection of arms and armor, nodding his head as Seras and Hed bantered. His work was more than just an potent means of protecting oneself or crushing your enemies. Anything bearing the master smith's maker's mark was a status symbol, as only the very best and most wealthy of Keepers could afford his almost insane prices.
"May I?" Seras pointed to the largest and most threatening of Hed's bows, and longbow designed to take down giants and dragons. Hed nodded, and she lifted it from its resting place. With hardly any effort, she drew back the string and playfully took aim at the ghost, who simply scowled. Hed himself was utterly flabbergasted. No human could perform such a feat, even with the assistance of magic. The commissioner, a rather smug devil, had requested it be enchanted so that no mortal could so much as strum the string. The girl, whatever she was, released it and smiled.
"Very nice. I don't really have any experience with one of these, so I'll have to go with a crossbow." She looked back to the Mentor and he simply nodded. "And that!" The blonde pointed at a heavy maul shaped like the head of a dragon. She giggled, the ghost started mumbling about pay, and Hed could only fall back into his chair with a huff.
...........
By the end of their visit, Seras had successfully set up a commission for two suits of armor (obsidian splint mail enchanted against lightning and holy energy and studded leather enchanted against fire and acid) and a heavy crossbow with a monstrous draw requirement. Hed had required her to show how quickly and accurately she could load and fire the weapon, and the poor crossbow she first tried with had snapped under the strain. That alone had cost a small fortune.
That small setback had made little impact on Seras' jolly mood. She was currently skipping down the trail back to the portal, her new warhammer easily hefted over her shoulder with one lazy hand. She originally hated carting around the massive Harkonnen cannon, but something about an unassuming girl like herself swinging a giant maul like a baton made her laugh. Alas, like all good things, her good mood had to come to an end.
"Keeper?" The Mentor had been staring at her in his crude fashion.
"What is it?" Somehow, Seras knew what he was going to ask.
"..What happened to your clothes?" The young vampire's uniform was far more fitting than it had been before. He could see curves in all the right places.
"UGH." Seras let her face fall into her hands. Why did the unkillable one have to be a perv? Her chest was much more pronounced, showed much more cleavage, and the girls fought against their confines. Her skirt had somehow managed to get even shorter, and she could feel a breeze. Seras was DEFINITELY not going to do any acrobatics in these.
"I tore my uniform trying to dodge those cannons, and I had my imps sew a back-up outfit beforehand in case of an emergency! They apparently got the measurements wrong! Satisfied?!"
"Very."
"Prick."
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(Posted Tue, 16 Dec 2014 14:27)
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