In the Furnace of the Forge Lord
With a grunt, a red-coated kirin heaved himself up to a sitting position upon his luxurious four poster bed. He tiredly rubbed his eyes with a foreleg to clear his bleary vision and turned his gaze towards a wall-mounted clock on the wall to his side.
"Half past... five AM..."
Forge Lord Crucible Spark let out a small sigh as he wondered about the day's upcoming activities. Slowly, with the grace of a bear waking up from hibernation, he got on to his hooves and began his daily routine.
The kirin stepped up to one of the elaborately engineered metallic doors within his personal chamber. He then went up to a small blue crystal that jutted out from a small port on the side its frame and enveloped it in his magic.
The crystal absorbed his yellow aura for a fraction of a moment before it glowed on its own. Not long after, the ornate gears upon the door's surface started to turn, which eventually pulled sections of the door itself apart into multiple different pieces back into its own frame. The muffled sound of turning gears and released steam could be heard from inside the walls.
After the door had opened fully, Crucible stepped through into his dedicated personal care room proper and hoped that he hadn't forgotten to turn on the heating again.
Finally done with grooming himself, Crucible continued on through a hallway decorated by complex brass piping along one of its walls as well as its ceiling, only occasionally interrupted by the odd lamp or furnishing.
As he walked, he looked through the long window that made up the other side of the hall. Crucible took in the sight of the sprawling industrial complex with a sense of satisfaction. The billowing smog from the towering smokestacks along with flashes of flames and sparks among the interconnected mechanical structures meant that everything was running smoothly and at peak efficiency.
With a flash of his horn, he opened the door to the main dining room of his mountain-sized Forge Base, idly thinking about what he should eat for breakfast.
As he sat down on a chair located at the head of a massive table, a forgeling drone with a bow tie—which looked rather odd compared to her overlapping bright red carapace—approached him with a menu levitating in her magic.
The drone bowed her head, "Good morning, Lord Spark. I take it you had good rest last night?"
Crucible turned to her with a small smirk.
"Good morning to you too, Calcite. And yes, I did. Now how about that menu, hm?"
The forgeling, Calcite, nodded and floated said menu over to the kirin.
Crucible flipped through a few pages, only occasionally stopping to consider his options. So many dishes to choose from, with such high quality too... he should really give the chef a raise someday.
Not within the near future exactly, but perhaps one day.
"I'll have that buffalo steak. Medium rare. Something simple to start the day."
Nothing too fancy today, he thought. Culling a number of slaves would help save some resources as well.
Calcite took the menu from his magic and bowed her head again before she made her way to the kitchen.
While he waited, Crucible tried to recall if he had anything important to attend to today. As far as he remembered, he still needed to examine the new patents some of the Warsmiths submitted.
"I can do that later." he murmured.
The Forge Lord didn't need to wait long for his meal to arrive, as Calcite had returned from the kitchen with a clean golden cloche floating in her magic. The forgeling silently placed it down in front of him and opened it with a flourish.
"Bon appétit, milord."
Crucible picked up the fork and knife in his magic before giving her a nod.
"Thank you, Calcite. And send my compliments to Chef Pie, if you could."
With a clean coat and full belly, Crucible moved on to the central smithy of his forge. He would need to meet up with his assistant to get a proper rundown on what the day entailed.
The kirin marched on, trotting along a cable-suspended walkway that overlooked the cavernous expanse of the central smithy. Below him, various forgeling classes, centaurs, and novice kirin smiths worked tirelessly on their respective workspaces. Some were busy shaping out pieces of components with powerful steam hammers, others were dutifully working out small kinks on the more delicate pieces upon enchanted anvils, and the rest were going around dividing newly shipped materials on winding conveyor belt systems.
All in all, a pretty average day in the Forge Base.
The walkway he was on eventually lead to a larger, more solid platform that protruded from a massive wall that, in turn, was connected to a row of house-sized furnaces. A forgeling praetorian, Crucible's personal assistant and bodyguard, gave him a sharp salute when he noticed his superior approaching.
"G'morning. I see you're already going through the list." the Forge Lord greeted.
The praetorian lowered his foreleg and straightened his stance as he levitated a clipboard in front of himself.
"Always better to start as early as you can, my Lord."
Crucible walked over to the railing and rested a hoof on it, "I suppose so, Kevin."
The kirin then looked back to his assistant, "What's the agenda for today?"
Kevin flipped over a sheet on his clipboard. He read through his notes for a moment before looking back to Crucible.
"You have a meeting with a representative from the Niflheim rebel alliance at nine, your apprentice's test will begin at ten-thirty, you have another meeting with the Master Smiths of each sector at three, and finally, another meeting with Mayor Glimmer at four."
He looked up from his list as he flipped back a page.
"And nothing more for the rest of the day, Lord."
Crucible mulled over the information he was given. All in all, a pretty average day in Muspelheim. Nothing too special except for the test, really.
The kirin nodded lightly, "Very well. We'll meet the representative later then. You may continue with your day now."
Kevin gave him another salute before opening his elytra and taking off to another part of the smithy.
Crucible turned his gaze from the quickly disappearing praetorian back to his... 'employees'.
"Quite an interesting day indeed..."
The clock finally struck nine, and Crucible, along with Kevin at his side waited for the rebel representative to arrive in front of a large, metallic storage container located near the northernmost border between Muspelheim and Niflheim.
Said container held various kinds of devices and special 'toys' that the alliance had commissioned from one of Crucible's own representatives in the City of Blizzards. Which were definitely not just lightly tweaked versions of the weapons that they already sold en masse for their oppressors, the frost leopards, to perpetuate their now multiple decades-long war.
Nope. These were totally different weapons entirely.
Crucible, in his tusked and armored nirik form, took a glance at Kevin, not turning his head from the barren wasteland between permafrost and pollution as he waited for an airship to arrive.
"My, my... they're taking their sweet time, aren't they?"
Kevin looked up towards the thick clouds that blanketed over the two opposite realms.
"It is quite difficult to navigate around the borders, my Lord. With the demon gales and such. Their ships aren't as well fitted as ours, after all."
The Forge Lord nodded, "Ah. I suppose so."
Thankfully for the two of them, they didn't have to wait any longer. From amongst the thick, dark clouds of ice, fire, and smog, an airship emerged. It was a small one, likely a corvette of some sort. Its framed envelope decorated with an image of the crystal shield and snowflake that represented the auroricorns and crystal ponies respectively.
Crucible smiled, revealing his pointed teeth. He always loved this part of the job.
Not long after it broke through the clouds, the small airship began its descent. Slowly turning in place to direct its loading ramp towards the container.
Once the ramp touched land, an auroricorn mare clad in blue-white fatigues made her way down to speak to the Forge Lord.
The auroricorn stiffly approached Crucible and Kevin. The nirik noticed the disturbed and uneasy look in her eyes, and revelled in it. There was just something so entertaining seeing how outsiders react to his burning form. Particularly when said reactions were of fear and confusion.
The representative cleared her throat before she spoke.
"Greetings, mighty Forge Lord. We've come t-to pick up our order..." she said with absolute confidence.
Crucible pretended not to notice her slight stammering and smiled. This only caused the poor auroricorn to flinch. He couldn't help but chuckle.
"Now, now. There's no reason to be so frightened. I'm not the kind of supplier to attack my own clients."
"That would be something only changelings do." Kevin added. Completely disregarding his origins.
The auroricorn looked at the two intimidating creatures wearily for a moment, before letting out breath she didn't know she had been holding.
"Y-yes. Right..."
The Forge Lord stepped closer towards the container and tapped a hoof on it.
"Now, how about that payment, hm?"
She gave him a nod and gestured to a crystal pony stallion who was standing atop the airship's ramp. He returned the nod and pulled out a large metal chest.
The stallion then proceeded to push it down the ramp, letting it slide towards Crucible.
The Forge Lord caught it with a flaming hoof, stopping its trajectory abruptly. Both of his clients seemed surprised by how easily he had stopped it.
The auroricorn straightened her posture, "A hundred thousand Asgardian bits. Will that be enough?"
With a flare of his horn, Crucible melted the steel locks into molten slag and opened the lid. Sure enough, it was filled to the brim with the intricately designed golden coins used by the snooty nobles and aristocrats of Asgard.
The Forge Lord nodded his head towards Kevin.
"Test them."
The praetorian then stepped up to the chest with his horn lit. His orange aura encompassing every piece of currency within it.
After a moment, he powered down his magic and looked back to his superior.
"Clear. Battle-damaged, interestingly enough. But still clear."
The auroricorn lightly waved a hoof, "Uh, we had a bit of trouble getting it..."
Crucible chuckled. Truly, the lengths that his clients will go to just so they can acquire his products was quite endearing.
And greatly amusing as well.
Another flash from his horn, and the chest closed itself before disappearing in a column of blue-red flames.
"Payment is sufficient. A slight disclaimer though, this container might be a little bit too heavy for your airship there."
The auroricorn shook her head, "Oh! N-no, no, it's fine. We can handle this one."
If Crucible's eyes weren't glowing then, he would have given the mare a look. He glanced between the relatively small airship—which had positioned itself atop its prize—and the multi-ton container. A few crew members, entirely consisting of crystal ponies and auroricorns, lower the cables of several winches, with the auroricorns directing the hooks to the container with their magic.
Crucible then looked towards Kevin, who gave a shrug and a small shake of his head.
The representative lit her horn, likely preparing a teleportation spell to get back to her transport.
Once the hooks were secured and the winches locked, the airship began to carefully ascend.
All three landborne creatures suddenly snapped their attention towards the flying transport when they heard the distinct sound of groaning metal coming from the airship itself. The pilot likely noticed this and put the propellers into full throttle. The sound of hissing steam from the ship's turbines was loud enough to rival its creaking frames.
The representative let out an awkward laugh, "Everything's fine! Just a little hefty, that's-"
SNAP!
THUMP!
As it turs out, everything was not fine. The container proved to be too heavy for the small corvette to handle, and caused the winch attachments to snap off like twigs, letting go of the massive package back down to the ground with an earth-shaking crash.
Thankfully, anything manufactured for active use by Muspelheim and its industries were highly reinforced and enchanted with protective measures to weather the abuse they suffer from traversing the Nine Shards. The same could not be said for the rebels' airship, which had chunks of its hull and railings ripped off when the winches finally gave out.
"Ah... that... is a problem." the auroricorn muttered.
Crucible sighed, letting a small plume of flames flow through his nostrils.
"Kevin, please call in a freighter..."
Crucible sent a silent thanks to the Shimmering Goddess that he was able to sort out the logistics problem with the rebels swiftly. It wasn't that he disliked spending time to help a loyal customer per se; after all, it was also a good way to maintain the façade of amicable relations between each of his clients.
It's just that all of that time interacting with others could be used for much more important matters that needed his full attention. It wouldn't be very efficient of him to pause his work every time a client requested an audience with him, that was why he had others who took care of it on his behalf.
But of course, since the Niflheim Rebel Alliance was a relatively new faction among a slew of others among the Shards, with the alliance only having been founded about a year ago, it didn't hurt to show them that he—at the very least—cared enough about their cause to show up personally.
It'll only be a matter of time before they become entirely dependent on Muspelheim to supply their forces, just as every other faction and group of the city-realms that had come before them.
All in the name of perpetuating the constant division wars between the Shards to please the Shimmering Goddess, so that she may gift the Clan with her mighty blessings for Project Ragnarok
Moving on to the next big task of the day, the Forge Lord had decided to use his personal Hearth Gate network to arrive at his apprentice's personal lodgings early. The place was close to a smelting facility within the Forge Base, fortunately.
Once, at the end of every month, she would be given a test to see how much she had learned under Crucible's tutelage. Typically, the test would involve forging a weapon or device of some kind, along with binding the forged item with the essence of a creature made of pure magic.
Thus far, his apprentice had been able to—with a few tolerable casualties—successfully trap a fully-grown umbrum inside of an industrial grade drill, allowing it to dig through magic-cancelling blackstone with ease. It had been made into standard-issue mining equipment within the following week.
The—relative to her race—young mare was learning fast. Crucible had to step up his game, it seemed.
And it just so happened that Crucible had recently discovered quite an interesting creature to use for the today's test. He whistled happily as a small metallic box, decorated with glowing centaur runes, jittered in his magic while he made his way through a sub-dimensional corridor made up of nirik-fire.
Once he reached the correct portal, the Forge Lord jumped through with a small burst of flames from his hooves.
On the other side, an antlered centaur was curiously checking the progress of his batch of ores. He glanced at a temperature gauge of the personnel-class blast furnace he was working with to see if it had reached the sufficient temperatures for his materials to start melting.
"Almost there..."
Without any warning whatsoever, a large puff of red-blue flames burst out of its slag funnel and coalesced into the vague form of a kirin. Not a minute passed before the flames faded, revealing the Forge Lord with an odd cube floating beside him.
The centaur snapped into attention and quickly bowed his head, "Forge Lord!"
Crucible, only having noticed the smith from his exclamation, simply replied with nod and smirk.
"Carry on, my good stag! Only passing by." he told the centaur before continuing his way to his apprentice's chambers.
It didn't take long for him to arrive. Once he was right in front of the large double doors that made up the room's entrance, Crucible went up to a small intercom unit attached to the side.
The kirin extended a hoof to one of its buttons, and called out to his apprentice.
"Test today, my dear apprentice! I do believe you'll quite enjoy what I've got prepared for you today!"
He then took a few steps back, not wanting to repeat a past occurrence.
Crucible didn't need to wait for long as he caught the sounds of frantically clopping hooves and whirring mechanisms from beyond the doors.
As the doors parted, a turquoise-coated, orange-maned unicorn of taller than average height peeked through with a bewildered look on her face. Her long, curved horn lightly scraped the top of the door frame due to her height. She was also significantly taller than Crucible himself.
"Test day? Why didn't you tell me, sensei?!"
Crucible levitated the box between them and sniffed, "As you already know, my duties as the Forge Lord tends to get rather... hectic, Cracker. I am thankful that Kevin had reminded me of it earlier today."
He paused and gave the unicorn his—to her—iconic false smile, "And I'm sorry for forgetting as well. I know you like to be absolutely prepared for them, but I assure you, today's test won't be anything odd or unusual."
His apprentice, Cracker, could only rub her muzzle and sigh.
"Fine, fine. Let's just get this over with..."
With an agreeing nod, the two set out to a specially designed private smithy made specifically for Cracker to use.
As they made their way, Crucible thought back to her progress under his tutelage.
Cracker, commonly known throughout Muspelheim as Firecracker Burst or the Forge Disciple, was a unicorn of Alfheim origin. A sub-tribe of the more recognizable unicorns of Innangard.
Just like the rest of her tribe, she was quite a fair bit taller than the other equine races that inhabit the Shards. Her long, curved horn, iconic to the Alfheim unicorns, was able to channel a greater amount of magical energy compared to other magically-inclined species, only rivaled by the qilin of Vanaheim and ibex of Jotunheim.
And just like any sapient species that lived in close proximity to Vanaheim, the unicorns of Alfheim were incredibly long-lived. With Cracker herself apparently being well over seven hundred years old. This makes her an 'young adult' by the standards of her people
The unicorn was supposedly an outlier within her society. About a decade ago, she had decided to leave Alfheim for good after realizing that the lifestyle and culture of her people were preventing her from progressing her experiments with pyromancy. The unicorns of Alfheim practically revered the natural order of the world, and her obsession with pyrotechnics along with machinery pretty much goes against everything they stood for.
Beyond that, Crucible didn't know much else. Cracker never really talked about her time before the Forge Lord had discovered her sneaking into one of the Forge Base's warehouses to steal some nitroglycerin. Really, one of the only things she has ever talked about were those of her end goal, in which she would use everything that she had learned under his guidance to help advance the Shards and its city-realms to a brighter, more unified future with the help of technology. It was why she had quite the affinity to work with Muspelhiem's machinery.
A noble cause, the Forge Lord thought. And incredibly ambitious as well. Getting her under the influence of the Shimmering Goddess was a piece of cake because of it.
Crucible shook his head to clear his mind. The two of them had arrived to the private smithy for Cracker's test.
The kirin threw the door open and marched inside with his apprentice in tow. The room was quite small for a smithy of its type, though that was only because every other smithy—barring Crucible's own—in Muspelheim were built to accommodate multiple creatures.
Crucible placed the box on an anvil set beside a traditional coal forge and turned back to his apprentice.
"Today's test is rather simple, and it's a task you're already very familiar with." he tapped a hoof on the small box, "You are to bind this magical creature to a tool or device of your own making. Said tool or device should, at the very least, have some use within the industries of Muspelheim.
"Other than that, you are free to follow wherever your imagination guides you. Your deadline is within a week as per usual."
Cracker nodded in understanding, "Okay... alright. Good. I can work with that."
The unicorn walked up to the anvil where the box had been placed and ran a hoof along its carved runes before looking back to her teacher curiously.
"If I may ask, sensei. What sort of creature am I going to be working with?"
Just then, the faint sound of a shrieking whinny came out from within the box. It jittered in place as the sound faded away. If one looked closely, they would able to see a thin layer of ice forming on the anvil's surface.
Cracker's jaw fell, "W-was that..."
Crucible smiled, "Ah yes, I nearly forgot. For this month's test, you will be working with a windigo."
The apprentice nodded halfheartedly, her eyes still locked on to the box they contained a spirit that feasted on hate and fury.
A devious, almost cruel smile suddenly spread across her face. She chuckled and rubbed her forehooves together sinisterly.
"Oh, you have no idea how long I've waited for this!"
Crucible shook his head and let out his own chuckle. That poor windigo...
They day had reached three o'clock in the afternoon, and it was time for Crucible to have a meeting with the Master Smiths. He never enjoyed these meetings, admittedly, mostly because they tend to end up in an endless verbal battle for his approval the longer each Master were in close proximity to each other.
Not that he'd ever say it out loud, of course. Considering that they were sitting right in front of his office's desk, venomously glaring at each other.
All four Master Smiths were accounted for. Each oversaw the four outer sectors of Muspelheim that surrounded the Forge Base, along with the specific products that each sector produces.
On the leftmost seat was the current leader figure of the forgelings, Ecdysis. She was a tall, lanky individual with a luscious bright yellow—almost golden—mane, befitting of her role of the Queen within the Infernal Hive. Though she was queen in title only, as even a royals were ranked lower than the Forge Lord, as decreed by the Shimmering Goddess and one of Her forty-nine commandments.
Even if she didn't have as much power as the Forge Lord, Ecdysis still had control over every native forgeling in Muspelheim and beyond. Her power among them is such that even the most strong-willed of forgelings bends to her very will. Any forgeling that originated from other 'ling species, however, are fully capable of countering her influence.
One might think that, with so much power under her control, Ecdysis' loyalty would be rather questionable. 'Lings are known to be incredibly greedy and power-hungry, after all.
If Ecdysis were to have heard such a claim, she would have had whoever came up with it swiftly executed for indulging in heretical thoughts. Forgelings, specifically those who were hatched and raised in Muspelheim, are taught to revere and worship the belief of the Shimmering Goddess. They are a society of zealots, and their queen was no exception. if the Goddess had chosen an individual beyond their own kind to enact Her mighty plan, then so be it. They would pledge all allegiance to said individual with no questions asked.
Unfortunately, this devout—if rather blind—faith in their patron deity tends to put them at odds with another native species of Muspelheim.
Seated on the rightmost chair in front of Crucible's desk was the current Overseer of the centaurs, Sabnok. Parts of his body that were not covered by his admittedly dapper suit appeared to be mechanized, with tubes and gears emerging between the mechanical components and metal plating of some of his limbs.
The centaurs were known by the natives of Muspelheim to be rather... pragmatic, when it comes to their interpretation of the Shimmering Goddess. While they are aware of Her existence and power as a cosmic entity, they think of her more akin to a manager of bureaucratic superior. They didn't revere Her nor did they worship Her like a deity, which only infuriated the zealous forgelings.
Before the unification of Muspelheim, the two races—being the only two species within the Shard with proper civilizations at the time—had gotten into numerous wars over their disagreement. The schism between the two races were only halted with the arrival of Clan Spark from Nidavellir, along with the news of the Shimmering Goddess' mighty plan, now known as Project Ragnarok.
In recent times, both the forgelings and centaurs have began to form kinder relations, mostly thanks to efforts of the Clan's incessant need to make everything within the realm of primordial flames 'orderly'.
The next Master Smith sat on the center-left seat. She was a plum-coated kirin mare with a horn that resembled the blade of a Somnambulan colt-pesh. Lady Pyre, the second highest ranking member of Clan Spark and Arch-Priestess of the Shimmering Cult was just as elusive to the rest of the Shards as the Forge Lord himself.
Crucible found her insight on enchanting items to be invaluable to his industries, which indirectly gave her the most amount of power out of the four Head Smiths. Fortunately, her loyalty to the Clan and the Goddess meant that any abuse of power was highly unlikely.
The last of the Master Smiths didn't sit on his own chair, nor was he actually in the room himself.
To the center-right was the fourth Master, Razer, also known as the current Dragon Lord of Muspelheim. Due to his immense size, he was never able to be physically present for every meeting. Opting to communicate via a Draconic far-speaker, a bowl filled with liquid dragon fire doused with molten slag taken from a nirik furnace, creating a small tear in space that allows two far-speakers to view and talk to each other.
It was a far more effective, if a little dangerous, iteration of the speak-bowls used by the storm beasts in Jotunheim. With less connection issues and generally just easier to use.
Crucible finally snapped out of his short reverie and cleared his throat loudly.
He gave his subordinates a light—and visibly strained—smile, "Thank you all for coming today. I think we've all settled down since the last meeting's, ah... 'incident', yes?"
A chorus of begrudgingly affirming grunts was good enough for him.
The Forge Lord clapped his forehooces together, "Wonderful! Now, on to today's agenda..."
He grabbed a stack of file folders that had been set aside on his desk with his magic and began to skim through them. Each one encircled him for a moment before turning to each of the Master Smiths except for one, which floated back into one of the desk's drawers.
"These are the resumes and portfolios of certain individuals that our recruiters have stated to possess great potential, and I would like discuss with you all on how they could be of use to the industries of Muspelheim."
Each Master reached out to their respective folders and began to read. Crucible levitated Razer's in front of the flaming 'screen' for the dragon to read properly.
After a moment, Sabnok lowered his folder and looked back up at his superior.
"Hm... yes... I can see why this one's been chosen. Miss Sparks here would be a good fit with the engineers. These thaum-tek devices she's created are quite impressive for a single pony."
Pyre sniffed in amusement, "Quite the coincidence, that name. Maybe we could induct her into the Clan if she can prove her worth."
Ecdysis, who seemed quite intrigued, decided chime in.
"While we are in no shortage of medical experts, this... Doctor Hemolymph's knowledge could prove useful to make higher quality medical devices. Even if he is a treacherous changeling."
Crucible nodded, "We could give those with better quality a higher price tag, then. Perhaps separately sell them as the 'default' and tag the old ones as a 'budget' variant."
His subordinates nodded in agreement.
A deep rumbling came from Razer's far-speaker, signifying the Dragon Lord's intent to speak.
"A longma, eh? Don't see them around much this last century." he commented. His voice slightly warped by the far-speaker's magic.
Crucible shrugged, "Supposedly, they moved over to Nidavellir in recent years. Most still despise us as expected, but there are those who are less... let's say, 'delusional'."
The Forge Lord leaned back on his leather chair, "Still, if you do accept Mister Lóng as a high-ranking guard, I would advise you to keep an eye on him."
He then turned to his fellow Clan member in the room.
"Anything you wish to add, Lady Pyre?"
The arch-priestess placed her folder back on Crucible's desk. She held a curious look on her face.
"You should commend your current recruiters, my Lord. These applicants seem to be fairly talented individuals, it must've been difficult to get a hold of them."
The Forge Lord nodded, "Noted. But I was referring to your thoughts on your applicant."
Pyre chuckled, which intrigued her fellow Heads. This usually meant she was up to something.
"Ah yes, the perpetual nirik."
She rubbed a hoof on her chin, "They seem to already have a decent handle on their flames, as evident by the uncharred resume, so it wouldn't be too difficult to guide them in their faith of the Goddess."
A silent moment passed as everyone waited for another to speak up again.
In that time, Crucible smiled inwardly. It appears that the prospect of new employees and 'fresh meat' always works in bringing them together.
"I do believe I've got the best applicant out of us." Ecdysis stated smugly.
Even if only for a few minutes...
As the clock struck four o'clock, Crucible cleared out his office from the mess left behind by the bickering Master Smiths. In the end, he had to kick them out—metaphorically, in Razer's case—once they ran out of time like usual.
The Forge Lord haphazardly threw himself back on his leather chair and breathed a sigh of relief. Dealing with the Master Smiths always gave him a killer headache, Goddess-blessed immortality be damned.
And of course, there were still two more activities to deal with before he can truly relax for the day.
"When I inherited this position from you, father, I always imagined I'd be secluding myself in my workshop to forge in the name of the Shimmering Goddess. Not... babysitting..."
His ears swiveled when he heard the sound of knocking on his door followed by a muffled voice calling out to him.
"My sincerest apologies for disturbing you, milord. I simply wish to tell you that Mayor Glimmer has arrived."
Crucible noted the usage of 'milord' by the speaker. Must have been a natural forgeling, he idly thought.
With a flash from his horn, the entire room was enveloped by a nirik-fire proofing spell. After making sure that he hadn't missed a spot, the Forge Lord transformed into his nirik form in a column of flames.
"Send her in!" he replied.
Not long after, the sound of a light click! came from the door before it carefully crept open.
Not a moment passed before a light lilac-coated unicorn wearing a white button-up shirt topped by a black waistcoat with pinstripes and a black tie. Starlight Glimmer, mayor of a small developing city-realm located not too far from the outer northern borders of Midgard, strode confidently into the Forge Lord's office.
Though Crucible still noted the familiar look of trepidation in her eyes, only masked by the smile on her face.
The mayor bowed her head once she reached her designated seat, "It is an honor to be in your presence, mighty Forge Lord."
Crucible gave her his own smile and chuckled, showing more of his long tusks.
"Oh come now, mayor, no need for formalities! We've known each other for what? Three, four years now? Please, take a seat."
Starlight sniffed, "Aw, you're no fun."
The Forge Lord rested a flaming hoof on his desk, "Dealing with the Master Smiths can be rather... overbearing. So I do apologize for my lack of joviality." he amended.
The mayor nodded, "Ah, right. Those four can never agree on much, can they? Yet another reason why putting everybody on equal standing with each would be a blessing for the Shards."
Crucible gave his own nod. Mayor Glimmer would often go on lengthy tangents about the odd ideology that she preached around back in her city-realm, and has tried on numerous occasions to convert the locals and workers of Muspelheim that she would meet on her way to the Forge Base.
This, of course, has yet to result in anyone fully becoming a follower of equality. The unwavering faith and reverence that the citizens of Muspelheim have for the Shimmering Goddess was unbreakable, and the Forge Lord highly doubted that she would ever succeed in convincing even the least religious of centaurs, let alone your average forgeling.
Crucible adjusted his position and leaned towards the mayor, "Indeed." he cleared his throat, "Now, if I may ask, what can I help you with, today? Another order of construction equipment? Perhaps an upgrade for your town's security system?"
Starlight pulled herself out of her thoughts and turned back to the nirik in front of her.
"Hm? Oh! Yes, security. I come to you today to order one of your, what's the name again? 'Militia Packs'?"
The Forge Lord raised a flaming eyebrow, "Already preparing to expand, are you?" he then proceeded to pull out a small, fire-proofed pamflet and set it on the desk, "Very well. One of our most affordable and best-selling packs can arm up to five hundred individuals with both magic and limb-manipulated weaponry. You simply need to specify what kinds of equipment you'd require based on the available options."
The mayor picked up the pamflet and read through its catalogue. She skimmed through most of the packs listed and tapped on one of the images.
She looked back up to Crucible, "I'd like to order one Uprising Pack, please."
Crucible smiled as he retrieved the pamflet and placed it back in its drawer.
He then opened up another drawer and pulled out a stack of paper alongside a ballpoint pen.
"Now, on to the specifics!"
It seemed like today was looking up for him.
Crucible whistled happily as he wont down a hallway in through the Forge Base. The meeting with Mayor Glimmer had proven to be fairly profitable.
It seemed like the mare was preparing to expand her city-realm's limits. Very wise to ensure you had the upper hoof before you start, he thought.
The kirin breathed a sigh of relief when he finally reached his destination. Really, if he didn't have to deal with the Master Smiths he wouldn't have to deal with the raging headache he was holding back.
Crucible stood in front of a massive pair of intricately designed doors. At the center of it was a proportionately large emblem of a dual-toned, six-flared sun with its vertical and horizontal flares being larger than the diagonals.
The mark of the Shimmering Goddess, the deity who had allowed him and his clan get this far after their exile from Nidavellir.
With his magic, the Forge Lord pushed the doors apart just wise enough to let himself through. After he did so, Crucible closed them with a muffled thunk!
He proceeded to trot along a long walkway made of dark grey stone, illuminated by cyan glowing sigils carved into it. All around him and said walkway was a cavern so large that the glow from the sigils wasn't even able to pierce through the darkness.
Crucible trotted for... quite some time. As he continued, the walkway developed an increasingly steep incline, and eventually shifted from a flat surface to a staircase, which then led to a circular platform that was adorned with even more of the odd sigils that decorated the walkway. On one side, was what appeared to be the back end of the massive cavern.
Protruding from the cavern's back wall was a gigantic brass statue that resembled the front half of the fabled alicorn. Based on its position, it seemed like it was rearing on its hind legs, with its feathery wings flared out to the side.
If one looked closely, they would notice the red streaks along its long, wavy mane.
Crucible stepped up to the center of the platform and the sun-shaped sigil and bowed low.
"Oh powerful Shimmering Goddess, your faithful servant has come to you once again with information of our progress."
There was a tense moment of silence before the eyes of the statue glowed a bright cyan.
"Speak." the Goddess bellowed.
Crucible raised himself back to his hooves, "The division wars have only gotten more extreme these last few weeks and our clients have started to order more destructive weapons with each passing day. None have discovered our true intentions, and we have taken drastic measures to ensure it. The Great Plan is working as intended, and soon, we will be able to begin the first step of Project Ragnarok."
The cavern rumbled as the Goddess spoke again.
"Good. Continue. Do Not Disappoint Me."
And with that, Crucible gave his Goddess a bow once again before he made his way back to his personal smithy. All he needed to do was to wait for the other factions to whittle each other down bit by bit. It might take him decades, centuries even, but he wouldn't need to worry about it. He had all the time in the world.
Patience is a virtue, after all.
Author's Note
Meet the real Crucible Spark, the Forge Lord of Muspelheim!
This AU is probably one of my more detailed ones, if you want to see more of this world, perhaps even a look at the other Shards and City-Realms, do consider commenting about it!
After this, I'll be continuing work on Fire Horse, so look out for new chapters after this!
Corrections and criticisms are more than welcome, I can't improve without those now, can I?
Have a good existence!
:)
"Remembered forever, the land of Equestria"
