Copper has a rich history of symbolism, none of which I can remember without bringing up the books I memorized before coming out here. I know it only as a good conductor of electricity, but here it's better known for spiritual connections.

Basalt comes up to my table. "You going to meditate on the concept of copper now? Or do you plan on doing something with that?"

I smirk and put down the chunk of native copper. "I don't actually have any skills for working metal yet. Do you?"

"Yeah," Basalt says, nodding. "We got a good amount of copper, too."

"I suppose it's no wonder Hebron spawned so many copper bowls and utensils when I asked it to restore the kitchen I'm going to hold onto some of what I dug out myself for my own project."

"I wonder how long the copper takes to respawn," Basalt says. "Anyway, I'm going to go work some metal like a proper dwarf. Do you want to just keep staring at that shiny rock or come with me to the workshop?"

"Right, yeah. I'll just stash this one in my room for now."

I leave my lump of core on my bed and follow Basalt to the workshop. Hebron's small workshop contains a versatile variety of crafting stations in a fairly compact area, with hallways leading off toward the common area, the spawner, and various storage areas that are currently mostly empty.

One thing it notably lacks, however, is a forge. Did I just not select it to spawn when I was setting things up? Maybe I was trying to save on essence and planned to only worry about it once we needed to forge metal. I open up the dungeon's system interface and scroll through the options.

[Forge enhancement unavailable. To unlock, construct a forge.]

"We have to build a forge to spawn a forge?" I say. "Did the ancient Hebrons never actually build a forge?"

[They did not,] Hebron's voice pipes up in my mind.

"So no bronze or iron?" Basalt says. "If all they had to defend themselves with were rocks and copper, it's no wonder they didn't survive."

"The forge can be a project for next year," I say. "The source of tin the orcs were using will need to be found, too. They were definitely using bronze weapons, not copper."

"Well, let's see what we can do with this stuff for now. Can you light the brazier?"

I pull out my lighter and flick it on the charcoal we'd loaded up the brazier with when we arrived. It catches quickly enough, and I yank back my hand before it does more than singe me.

"Stupid tower gave me a cigarette lighter and not a barbecue lighter," I grumble as the tiny burn quickly heals.

"You have stolen fire from the gods and made it your own," Basalt says cheekily. "It is the noble birthright of all humanity. You haven't meditated on the concept of fire or whatever yet? Would holding a piece of burning charcoal be good skill training or something?"

Anise wanders into the room and sees me standing by the brazier. "Drake, have you been playing with lighters? Did you set something on fire and burn yourself?"

"Sure did, Mom," I say brightly.

Anise comes over and hugs me. "Oh, I am so proud of you! I knew I'd make a pyromaniac of you yet!"

"This is not encouraging, Mom…"

We spend the next several days playing around with our copper. Anise joins in, as she has nothing better to do and this involves setting things on fire. When we run out of charcoal, we can just use the Sorcerer to melt our copper.

Skill increased: Maintenance (Organization) Skill acquired: Crafting (Metalworking) Description: The ability to shape and craft items from metal through techniques like forging, casting, and welding.

"How do you never seem to run out of Inspiration?" Basalt wonders. "I can't keep up even [Stone Sense] for very long."

"Enhanced Senses (Fiery Inspiration)," Anise says. "That's my biggest cheat skill. I get Inspiration back by watching fire. Including fire that I just made myself."

"That's mildly terrifying and I'm glad you're on our side."

"I had that skill for ten years before I could actually set anything on fire with my mind," Anise says. "I was a lot less motivated than you boys are. But look at me. 32 years old and I just unlocked [Metalworking]. It has been quite a while since I last unlocked a skill."

Anise holds up a glob of copper and starts shaping it with just her fingers as though it were clay.

"This is fun," Anise says.

"Most of us need hammers and tongs for that…" Basalt grumbles.

A messenger from Splott shows up at the staircase one day to inform us that they're putting the finishing touches on the new bridge and would be honored if we'd attend their commemoration ceremony. Except he's a goblin, so he doesn't say "commemoration".

"Come for bridge party!" says the goblin.

"I suppose it's time to cut short our explorations," Uncle Falcon says. "We're two weeks out from swarm season, so we'd best be getting home once we've gone to your bridge party."

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We gather up everything we're taking with us, loading up people's packs and inventories with supplies and materials, and leave our garbage in the core room to be recycled. Basalt's coming with us to spend the swarm season in Corwen, not wanting to be stuck in Hebron by himself for three months. The dungeon itself will be fine in the meantime.

When we reach the bridge site, we discover that there are far more people here than I'd expected, and they're not all here to attend the celebration. We go over to greet a group of unhappy humans.

"Goblins wearing clothes and building bridges," grumbles an old man. (He looks about 80 and is only Elite, so I'm not very impressed.) "It's not natural, I tell you."

"Of course it's not natural," Anise says cheerfully. "Isn't it fantastic? I'm going to get drunk with goblins instead of setting them on fire. These goblins are fun."

"Madness," the old man mutters. "You'll forgive me if I wait for someone else to see if this heap of rocks falls down."

I go up and touch the bridge and read through its aspects with [Psychometry]. It's stamped with the concepts of friendship, cooperation, and connection. On a spiritual level, the bridge looks a lot nicer than a misshapen pile of stones.

Skills increased: Clairvoyance (Psychometry), Crafting (Appraisal)

The "goblin bridge party" seems to involve cramming as many people on the bridge as you can and jumping and dancing around. I suppose if it's going to fall down from that, they'd prefer to find out immediately, although I'm sure there are less goblin ways of testing that.

The bridge holds firm, but all the noise has attracted the attention of something else. The river surges and a sudden wave strikes the bridge and washes several goblins into the water. A Heroic aura comes into view.

Before anyone even sees what they're being attacked by, Basics scramble for higher ground as Elites and Heroics bring weapons or fire to hand.

A massive scaly paw reaches onto the bank, then another. A monster like a crocodile pushes itself out of the water. With a swift lunge, its jaws latch onto a nearby goblin and swallow him whole.

Spells and weapons pepper the creature's hide. It turns aside and lifts a broad beaver-like tail, then brings it down in a powerful slap onto the surface of the water. Waves crash in every direction, soaking the bridge again and casting another couple goblins adrift.

After a fierce battle I stay well out of, the Heroic lizard-beaver has been reduced to just a corpse to be turned into crafting materials. And the bridge is still standing.

People with healing skills make sure the survivors are alright, and the goblins who had wound up in the water swim back to shore to dry off. Splotts are competent swimmers and not even slightly intimidated by water or the monsters that dwell in it, even if the occasional goblin gets eaten.

If nothing else, the sudden appearance of a Heroic monster made the doubters decide that it's time to go home.

Once the party winds down, we escort Rowan back to Talgarth and then cross the new bridge to head back to Corwen. It'll shave a good half a day off the trip to not have to go around into the hills to avoid getting wet.

We get back to Corwen in mid-September, arriving a few days before Burdock's naming day. I have not made him a gift yet, so I'd best get to that. He's about to go off to school, so I'd best make this one special somehow. And not just a copper spoon.

While Hebron's workshop is quaint, it's nice to be back at home with its larger work spaces and better equipment. More importantly, I'm able to see the sky from here. I haven't gotten to the point of my narrative fractal being able to do more than mostly pay for itself, and while I'm sure my efforts (or the efforts of my starving Bard past life, at least) will eventually bear fruit, that doesn't help me now.

I get to work on carving a stone mold to start off with, drafting up a plan ahead of time and carefully marking it out. A three-armed cross with a circle at the top, and nothing fancy beyond that. I mess up on two of them, chipping off more than intended, but the third is adequate.

When I go to melt my copper, I can feel the eyes of a well-meaning uncle or two upon me. Previously, I wasn't even allowed to start learning [Metalworking]. We didn't have a lot to spare for children to play around with, but this is my copper. (And Basalt's, but he's not fussed about that as we can probably just get all the copper we want.)

It takes a few more attempts to get it right, between uneven pours, cracked molds, and spills. (Anise doesn't even wait for the spilled copper to fully cool before scooping it up with her bare hands, because she's insane and nearly immune to ordinary heat.)

Finally, success brings a welcome system notification.

You have crafted a Fair quality artwork Skills increased: Crafting (Metalworking, Drafting, Stoneworking), Enhanced Hands (Labor of Love), Enhanced Senses (Celestial Inspiration)

I hold up the gleaming copper ankh with a satisfied smile. I finish it off with stringing a strand of black devil-goat wool through it to make a necklace.

Come the 19th, the hearth is decorated with a banner that reads Apprentice Witch, along with colored pencil drawings of Burdock's monstrous cat familiar from one or more of the younger members of the family.

"Happy naming day," I say, handing him the small box with my gift in it.

He opens it up and pulls out the necklace. "Nice! What is it?"

"It's an ankh," I say. "A symbol of life."

Burdock thanks me and pulls it over his head, then moves on to the next family member eager to wish him a happy naming day and offer presents.

"So, Burdock, are you eager to go to this Crux Academy?" Basalt asks.

We're sitting in the school house looking out the window at the village green, now covered in orange leaves underneath the orange sky. School isn't in session at the moment as it is Saturday, so we're just reading and playing board games.

"Oh, yes," Burdock says. "This will be so much fun. I'm going to learn so many new skills. And I'll make new friends and maybe even get an adventuring party of my own. Not that adventuring with family hasn't been fun and all, but, you know."

"Of course," Basalt says with a chuckle. "I take it kids have to be 14 to go there?"

"They have to have an apprentice class, specifically," Aunt Rosemary puts in. "That will be at a different age for each race. For a dwarf, that would be 34 years old."

"I spawned as an adult, though," Basalt says. "My character screen says that I'm 51 years old. Are there magic schools for Elite adults, once I reach Elite?"

"Yes, of course," Aunt Rosemary says. "Crux Academy is a well-renowned center of learning for apprentices, but it's hardly the only one even in Tiganna. For adults, there's the Crystal College, located on the topside of Zenith, the Arundel Institute in Flux, and Wight University in Hush."

"Good to know. So what's so great about going to one of these schools instead of just running dungeons and such?"

"The schools themselves are dungeons. Extremely dangerous dungeons, in fact, although they try to keep the higher level threats away from the lower level students. They often include traps, puzzles, and riddles, shifting mazes of corridors and stairs, as well as potential for monster encounters between classes."

"Cool, cool," Basalt says. "Well, I'm probably a long way off from Elite still. Is there some way to see how far you are along?"

Aunt Rosemary shakes her head. "I'm afraid not. Rank-ups are difficult to predict. And each successive rank-up takes more effort and greater Deeds."

"Info dumping is boring," Griffin complains, chucking a block at a wall. "I want to fight more monsters."

"Swarm season is almost upon us," Aunt Rosemary replies. "Whatever monsters come out this year, we will try to capture some of the lower level ones for practice."

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