As much as the crafter wanted to leap into further work, to practice each and every new pattern she'd learned to tease out all of the little morsels of information that could only be learned through application, she knew she couldn't. She was the first Blacksmith to reach the rank four Skill and therefore the first to unlock the new Skill specialisations, which meant she had certain obligations to the Colony.
She packed away her tools and shut down her workstation before stepping into the tunnel and hunting down the organiser. The ant turned to her with a quizzical tilt to her antennae.
"I didn't expect to see you out of your room. I suppose you must have ranked up Blacksmithing?"
The crafter nodded.
"I did," she confirmed, "and I have a few new Skill options to report."
"Excellent news. I'll fetch the brood tenders."
She scurried off, leaving the crafter to wait. Thankfully, it wasn't long before she returned with a pair of eager brood tenders who took over the moment they entered the chamber.
"Is this the crafter? How wonderful! Well done, sibling, we're very proud of you! The very first in the Colony to unlock these new Skills, a truly meaningful contribution."
"And new Skill unlocks as well! We'll have to go through your status in detail to ensure we can pinpoint the conditions. We have a lot of work to do!"
The crafter sighed as the two brood tenders fussed over her as if she were a new hatchling. It was only natural that the tenders took responsibility within the Colony for studying and documenting the System, since they were the ones most involved in teaching it, but their mothering nature slowed the process down significantly. It was several hours later before the crafter, near her limits, was finally able to return to her workshop, exhausted, but brimming with excitement. She threw herself into her work, determined to unravel the secrets of her new Skills and push them into the next tier.
For three whole days she forged without rest, her fire burned unending and the ring of clanging metal sounded again and again as she worked in a fever. Her mad spree was only brought to an end when a team of five workers forced their way into her workshop (she'd barred the door) and dragged her away as she cackled with mad delirium.
After a full day of observed rest, during which she was restrained by an earth mage, the crafter was allowed to return to her workshop to inspect the fruits of her labours. The last day and a bit was little more than a blur in her memory, so she was quite surprised to see the sheer volume of different patterns and pieces she'd produced. Her two new Skills had even made it to the second rank! Something was beginning to synthesise in her mind and she couldn't wait to get started!
Except there was something standing in her way.
"You're running out of time," the supervisor told her.
"What?" the crafter was shocked, "I'm closer than I've ever been before!"
"And the amount of resources you're consuming has increased, with nothing to show for it."
With a flick of her mandibles, the supervisor indicated the sheer amount of armour bits and pieces that littered the small workshop.
"It's becoming harder and harder for me to source materials for you. If you want to continue this project, then you need something to show for it, and soon. The voices of those who are displeased by the waste are growing louder by the day. Inefficiency isn't something the Colony is willing to tolerate."
"But how are we supposed to develop something new without experimentation and failure? How am I supposed to push my Skills forward without practice?"
It was generally accepted in the Colony that to develop Skills and uncover new branches of knowledge it was necessary to test, test and test again. Hundreds of ants had been committed to sub-optimal Skill and mutation builds in an attempt to unearth new fusions or combinations. Yet, they accused her of waste?!
"Your case is somewhat unique," the organiser told her, "because the products you produce in your practice have no value to the Colony, yet to mine and refine the metal you use costs a huge investment of energy. Furthermore, many are convinced that what you are trying to make is something with fundamentally no value. I've heard several say that the most talented blacksmith in the Colony is wasting her talent. Only results will still their voices."
With that stark warning, she left the crafter alone to consider her path. In the mind of the crafter, there was pressure, concern, and not a little anger at the short-sightedness of her fellow crafters, but not a single iota of doubt. She knew, KNEW, that what she sought to build was close to being within her grasp. The ant armour would be realised! She would forge it right here, with her own mandibles!
Burning with conviction, the crafter cleaned her workspace, and began to plan. As she lifted different pieces of armour, each forged with their own unique methods, an image began to take shape in her mind's eye. A powerful soldier ant, covered in gleaming metal that thrummed with enchantments. An iron juggernaut of unstoppable might. The Steel insect!
Yes! She could use moulded plates over a layer of mail for the head. And scale would be used in the joints and to cover the petiole. The abdomen would need to be flexible, of course, but also thick. The thickest plates would need to be around the thorax. She had to consider how it would attach to the carapace itself. Where to strap it? And how would the armour interact with the carapace? There had to be a way to maximise the benefit of both carapace and steel…
In her head, the full suit slowly began to take shape as she considered processes, pieces and techniques, discarding this one, modifying that one. And between the carapace and armour, an entire new layer began to take shape. One that would allow the armour to flex, yet be braced against the unyielding exo-skeleton beneath. As she filled in the details, the more her understanding of enchantment played into the design. If she modified these materials, the enchantment effect would be stronger. If she connected this section to that, the magical effect wouldn't be diluted by the incompatibility of the metals.
Eyes ablaze and antennae twitching with insane energy, she fired up the forge and shoved in a mandible load of ingots. Today, she would complete a prototype that would prove the entire Colony wrong!
