Blacksmith Pay Novels & Stories

As they waited, Sethlzaar found himself wondering what his mates were doing back at the seminary and how Soartin was. The Blacksmith spoke little, using his words to give the briefest of instruction that Sethlzaar would at times find himself having to work his brain to understand. When the blacksmith considered the forge hot enough he plunged a metal into the forge, holding it with a pair of iron tongs, watching as it took on a similar glow as the coal. Then he placed it on the anvil and struck it countless times with a hammer, bending it to shape as he pleased. By the life of Sethlzaar, he watched as the blacksmith hammered and flipped the metal in different ways, and understood nothing of

My whole armor cost me exactly 1 pound sterling at the smithy. No, it’s no bargain. You have to keep in mind that here in the Dark Ages, 1 pound is a whole lot of moolah. It’s actually equivalent to approximately 60 days of grinding for me. To those of you who don’t know game-speak, let me explain. Grinding is the cycle of defeating monster bosses, collecting silver and items, and buying gear.

"Your ingenuity is remarkable, young sir. This dagger, so cleverly designed, looks ordinary but is practically a hidden weapon." His praise, though gratifying, made me uncomfortable. I wasn't accustomed to admiration. "You flatter me," I demurred. "It's just something for self-defense." The blacksmith nodded, then got straight to the point. He held up one hand, five fingers splayed. "Our owner is willing to offer this much for your blueprint, young sir. Are you agreeable?" My heart leaped – five hundred dollars? That seemed like a lot for a simple drawing! Before I could respond, the blacksmith added, "If five thousand dollars is still not satisfactory, we can negotiate further."

It was widely acknowledged that blacksmiths residing near the borders were among the finest, second only to those in the capital city. As soon as I entered the blacksmiths' workshop, all of them halted their work and converged around me, wearing welcoming smiles and displaying flattery in their demeanor. Their eager eyes gleamed with anticipation, almost as if they could see gold coins flashing before them, presuming I was a significant customer. They proudly presented their best weapons and armors, handling them delicately and appraising them as though they were priceless treasures. However, despite their enthusiasm, I couldn't help feeling disappointed.

“Forging in itself is not a difficult thing. That can be easily done.” Phoebe kept shaking her head, and she said, “It’s not as easy as you think. This volcanic metal isn’t normal metal, so it’s difficult to forge it. If you’re not careful, you’ll break it. Only an excellent swordsmith can do it well. Based on what I know, there’s a swordsmith like that in this area, and he’s the only capable one. His name is Brighton Cook.” Thomas remembered the name “Brighton Cook” deeply.

He didn’t seem to notice. “I got up before the sun and was at work well after it got dark. Then I had to walk home. I was lucky to get a single break after arriving at the shop. The master blacksmith training me, Henrik, was well sought after. Our shop flourished, but we had more work than he could keep up with. It also meant my work was never-ending.” “But you learned a lot, right?” Blake scoffed. “Well, you got big and strong.” She teased, squeezing his arm muscles.

"I only have 50 silver coins to offer you, Eva, as I said at the start." Eva looked a little confused for a second before she remembered he had told her his budget was 50 silvers. "That's right... I'm such an airhead." She said as she bumped herself on the noggin. "I'm sorry. Let's call it 50 silvers then, as long as you promise to always use me as your blacksmith." She suddenly said giving him a thumbs up and a wink. Xolvion smiled and nodded. "That's a deal." He said looking into her blue eyes.

A while later, under Quincey’s guidance, Andrius found a shop. “You want to rent a forge?” The owner glanced at Andrius and said, “A hundred silvers a day, or sixty for half a day.” Silvers... Andrius was stumped. He did not have any silver on him

The daggers were smooth and sharp, it was cold and carried a lethal aura. "We'll take three of the daggers, twenty arrows and two bows, and this sword." The blacksmith nodded and placed the ordered items from the rest. "Three daggers:thirty gold coins, twenty arrows....: fifty silver, Two bows: twenty five sliver, One black grade sword: twenty five gold coins." The blacksmith list the prices of the weapons. Madeline frowned she had all but sliver coins, she had given all of them to Theodora and Fredrick.

he scratched his head, “We need someone to do the heavy lifting around here and you seem to have some muscles or maybe fat in there.” Was I just insulted? “Oh! I thought as much,” I looked at my hand. In my real life, I wouldn’t have much problem with working hard. Avri has such soft baby hands that I don’t think she had ever done any hard lifting all her life. I guess her best bet would be her bulky body. “How much would I get paid?” I questioned raising my hopes a little. “Hundred bucks per week.” “Are you kidding! Is that some kind of modern day slavery?”