Rurik hurried down the stairs, his mind racing, eager to see John and repay the debt he owed.
The other customers, seeing the Master Blacksmith himself emerge from his office, tried to approach him, their voices a clamor of requests and demands. But the guards, loyal to the Guild and even more loyal to coins, held them back. Even the nobles of Sagespire who were used to getting their way, having doors opened for them, and being treated with reverence were forced to wait their turn. After all, a weapon forged by Rurik, by the Guildmaster himself could elevate a family's status, increase their power, and secure their position in the hierarchy of the city.
"Master Rurik! A word, if you please!"
"I have a commission for you, Master Dwarf! A sword! Fit for a king!"
"Master Rurik, my lord requires a new set of armor! And he's willing to pay handsomely!"
But Rurik ignored them all as his gaze fixed on the two figures standing near the counter, the young man Joh and the woman beside him. The moment he saw her, he sensed something about her. She didn't radiate any godly aura. But, the intensity in her eyes and a quiet power made the hairs on his neck stand on end.
"John," He approached them, forcing a casual smile onto his face, and greeted Michael with a respectful.
"Master Rurik," Michael nodded, his gaze meeting Rurik's. "Perhaps... we could talk... in private?"
"Of course, of course," Rurik stammered, gesturing towards the staircase. "Right this way."
As they followed him, the other customers, their curiosity piqued, exchanged whispers.
"Who are those two?" a noble asked, his voice laced with a hint of suspicion.
"They look important, those two," a merchant murmured, his gaze lingering on Gaya's form. "And that woman, she's stunning. "
"Never seen them before," another noble remarked, shrugging. "But that young man seems familiar somehow."
One particularly bold noble even approached the receptionist, who'd just returned to her post with her brow furrowed in thought.n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om
"Who are those two?" he demanded, his voice a haughty drawl. "And why did Master Rurik ignore me? I've been waiting for hours!"
The receptionist, her eyes wide, simply shrugged.
"I... I don't know, my lord," she stammered. "They just asked to see him. And he just went with them."
Once inside Rurik's office, the door closed and locked, the dwarf let out a heavy sigh of relief.
"Your... your grace, your majesty... your..." he stammered, his gaze darting between Michael and Gaya as his mind struggled to find the appropriate title for a god.
"We've been over this, Rurik, I told you John is fine. No need for big words, I told you before, words don't impress me," Michael chuckled.
"Right... John," Rurik mumbled, still slightly unnerved. Thus, he poured himself a mug of ale, his hands trembling slightly, and took a long swig, hoping the alcohol would calm his nerves. He had never been this damn close to not one, but two gods at the same time. He glanced at Gaya, who was watching him with an amused smirk on her lips.
"The God of Chaos? You... you killed Agra?"
His ale mug slipped from his grasp and clattered to the floor.
"We drowned the bastard," Gaya chimed in, grinning. "And then we took care of his little fan club. I personally burned those bastards to ashes, slow and painful, just like roasting bad fucking turkeys,." She relished the look of disgust and fear that flickered across Rurik's face as she described the festivities.
"You're a sick puppy, Gaya," Michael chuckled, shaking his head.
But Rurik wasn't laughing. He was still trying to process the fact that gods could be... killed. He hadn't even come to terms with Rainar's death yet and now Michael just dropped another bomb on him. Another god? Gone? And Agra, no less? The self-proclaimed God of Chaos, a being whose reputation preceded him like a bad smell.
"I need a drink or two or a damn fucking barrell," he muttered, pouring himself another mug of ale, his hand shaking so badly that he almost spilled it. He downed the ale in one gulp, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
"So let me get this straight," he said, setting the mug down with a heavy thud. "You fought Agra. And won? And killed him?"
"Not fought, exactly," Gaya said with a smirk. "More like he beat the ever-loving shit out of Agra. Then we drowned him in a pond,"
"Right..." Rurik said slowly, still trying to process the information. Then he sighed, shaking his head.
"Well, I can't say I'm heartbroken. I'd heard things. About Agra and his followers. Even Seshat's domain isn't immune to their influence. It's good riddance if you ask me." He looked at Michael, a newfound respect dawning in his eyes. And it made him proud, somehow, to be associated with a god-killer. It proved those smug bastards weren't invincible and they could bleed and die.
"I can... fix your armor, John," he said, turning back to Michael. "Maybe even make a few improvements. But what about hers? You said upgrades?"
Michael nodded, gesturing towards Gaya.
"Show him your stealth suit, darling."
Gaya closed her eyes, focusing her will, and her stealth armor, a sleek, form-fitting suit of silver metal, materialized on the armor stand beside Michael's. It wasn't as imposing as Michael's Dark Armor. Instead, it was almost delicate and its surface was etched with countless tiny runes, shimmered with a faint, ethereal light.
Rurik approached the armor, his gaze sweeping over its intricate design, his brow furrowed in thought.
"Nice craftsmanship," he murmured, his fingers tracing the outline of one of the runes. "Let me guess, this turns you invisible?"
"Hmm," Michael nodded.
"It was made for a mortal. But Gaya, she's a goddess now. And well, let's just say her godly glow kinda clashes with the invisibility thing. We need you to adjust it and make it compatible,"
Rurik rubbed his beard thoughtfully, his gaze fixed on the armor.
"The energy flow of mortals and gods, it's different, John. Customizing this to suit a goddess will be a challenge. But..." he grinned, a spark of excitement in his eyes.
"I'm up for it. Give me three days. I'll turn this into a masterpiece. Fit for a goddess,"