Atronach Forge Novels & Stories

The forge smelled right. Coal. Hot iron. Oil. Honest work. I leaned against the heavy workbench, arms crossed, watching the gym floor through the open doorway that connected the forge to the training area. Quiet night. Good night. Snow scraped lightly against the outside stone walls, but inside the place was warm and still. Bastian had mentioned the girl earlier before he left. “Cantari girl might come by.” I grunted. He kept talking anyway. “She’s got metal magic.”

"And I am here to negotiate the final liquidation of the Thorne-Vance name." The leader of the Foundrymen, a massive man with a bionic eye and a soot-stained coat, looked down at me. "The name is worth nothing here, lady. We’re melting down the statues to make plowshares." "Then let me help you melt them," I said. "I have the codes to every automated forge in this city. I have the location of the deep-soil geothermal taps. And I have the only child who knows how to talk to the machines that are still sleeping under your feet."