Chapitre 278: Smith Bonds
It's been three days since Michael had 'sealed' the Ebony Blade in the Book of Heroes, and things had returned to relative normality. He continued his membership with the Companions, the group interrogated him over what'd happened to the Matron and quickly came to an understanding about why he'd had to act so.
A few were a bit wary of him at the revelation of his talent with magic, but the most surprising reaction to it all was Aela... It was not of shock, suspicion, or even pity... It was of anger, anger at the fact that he'd been handicapping himself while fighting her.
As soon as he entered the training grounds behind Jorrvasker she challenged him to a fight and demanded he use his magic against her... Needless to say, even with the various resistances provided to her by her status as a Werewolf, she didn't stand a chance.
She might be stronger than him and almost as fast without his Gandalfr runes, but there wasn't much someone could do when your opponent teleported around you like a fly with epilepsy. His Shackles weren't able to hold her for long, and even when he refused to use any truly harmful spells, he won with a fair amount of ease.
It seemed that Aela had never truly been challenged this much before, as once he was done thrashing her, she delved into training like a madwoman... After her defeat at his hand, whenever he came back to Jorrvaskr, he'd always find her either shooting arrows at a far off target or slashing dummies and people unfortunate enough to get dragged into a spar.
Disregarding the training-maniac called Aela, the other Companions now held a greater amount of respect for him, his actions in putting down the Matron and saving civilians putting him in a better light.
Of course, many of the townsfolk didn't see it like that, particular the Battle-Born clan who felt he should be thrown in jail for killing the possessed Matron, regardless if she would have harmed more people... The law is the law, and the only reason they hadn't taken their thoughts further was because the Jarl had already made his decision.
Speaking of the Jarl... Farengar had become a common sight at the Bannered Mare, specifically, badgering Michael to let him have another look at the Book of Heroes. The Court Mage was usually never seen outside of his workshop, so to see him in the tavern was a big surprise to the citizens of Whiterun.
Michael also took advantage of this, allowing Farengar to take timed looks at the Book of Hero if he tutored Tiffania, Charlotte, and Illococoo. Of course, the man was still busy, so these lessons were usually only half an hour or so long... But still, they'd helped the girls progress further than they would have in their studies.
They were now able to cast some basic Tamrielic spells. Candlelight, Flames, Sparks, Frostbite, and finally, Lesser Ward. This of course left Michael falling behind them in his studies, but he felt he could catch up once they reached Winterhold College.
Lastly, Michael had made the acquaintance of Eorlund Grey-Mane, he'd found the man where he usually was, hammering away atop the Skyforge which sat next to Jorrvaskr. He'd been in the process of making a Skyforge Steel Sword for a new member of the Companions... Which turned out to be for Michael, a gift from Vilkas apparently.
He'd been forced to wait an hour for the man to finish, having already been snarled at for trying to interrupt him. Once it was done and the sword was being quenched, Michael was finally able to talk to the man, and instantly caught his attention when he spoke of the ebony he had.
Eorlund Grey-Mane, despite his prestigious talents, almost never had the opportunity to work with ebony. The reason for this was because ebony wasn't really native to Skyrim, even if you did stumble across a vein of it, the amount would be so little that it would barely be worth the effort to extract it. This is the main reason that most smiths able to work Ebony were over in Morrowind... Fortunately, Eorlund had managed to learn the art, so a trip over to Morrowind wasn't necessary.
The man had gaped when Michael had pulled the two sets of ebony armour out, along with the ebony weapons he didn't intend to use. In truth, the amount of ebony he had right now was probably more than double what anyone in Skyrim had in their possession.
"So, can you work it?" Michael asks, ignoring the fact that Eorlund was almost salivating at the sight of the ebony. He face remained neutral, but he could see the glint in his eye.
"I-er, yes. Yes, I think I could, lad. But first I need to know what you want made, with this amount of material I could probably armour a giant... Or make them a club or two..."
"Huh, to be honest, I hadn't really thought about it. I don't really care about the weight, but it needs to allow a wide range of movements." he says, knowing he could probably learn to silence the sounds his armour would make with magic.
...
Eorlund rakes his hand through his large white beard, "Maybe some... Mail then?" he asks questioningly, "Still leaves a lot left to be used..."
Michael crosses his arms and leans his head backwards in thought, "Is scale mail a thing here?"
Eorlund nods, "Aye, but the most I've seen is iron and steel. Never ebony..."
"Well, why not make the first set of ebony scale mail then? I'll pay you for it of course, but it seems like an interesting project even without the gold involved, right?"
Eorlund grins, "Now you're talking my language. Alright, let me take your measurements and I'll get to work on it. No idea how long it'll take, but making the individual scales'll take time. I'll let you know when you next get back."
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