Stuck As A Dungeon Mob

Having successfully created a hammer, even if its durability was still up to question, Ed decided to go mine some more iron.

'I should make at least a single pickaxe first' Realistically many of these things should have been lying around considering that the sacred tribe orcs were used to doing this labor but for some reason, they were nowhere to be seen.

'Did something happen?' The rundown smithy had seen some use but its condition also suggested that it was only being used by a couple of people. Ed could only assume that the sacred tribe smithing community had died down significantly. It had dwindled to a couple and the tools of the trade had been mostly lost or destroyed by the test of time.

'There is also the chance that they are well hidden among the mess and rubble' It was very well possible that Ed would have to give the nearly abandoned smithy a second look.

Since he was already on the way to the mine, it didn't pose much of a problem. Once Ed reached the locale, he basically turned it upside down. Nevertheless, he only managed to find a couple of useful tools such as a pair of tongs and some worn chisels.

Still, that was more than he had so he naturally pocketed them before making a new earthen pickaxe and beginning to mine a lot more iron. He spent enough time filling a whole cart which he did by creating a new one from scratch.

'By the time I'm done with this floor the ground will be below sea level.' There was no sea so there wasn't a sea level but with how many things Ed had formed out of the dirt there would definitely be some sinking. Though this implied that he as a single person could actually make that large a difference, which reality would prove otherwise.

Ed returned to the smithy and began the forging process anew. He didn't really know the reasons as to why he did certain things but it was bound to come eventually come to him with experience.

Once he got the orc iron, Ed moved on to the actual forming of tools. As far as Ed could tell, it basically boiled down to casting it into a rough shape and then smoothening things out with tools like chisels and hammers.

So that was exactly what Ed did. He entered the melted iron into a cast and once it began to solidify he moved it out of the cast and heated the edges to the best of his ability. From there, he started to smack said edges with his crappy hammer.

Pangs immediately rang out, these could be heard by curious passersby as the sound of metal clashing against metal, but there weren't any battles happening nearby. This caused some of them to peer into the poorly lit workshop where they could catch sight of Ed working hard on a tool head.

"Hey E-" One of these curious orcs was about to ask what it was he was doing but another quickly blocked his mouth. Ed's solemn expression suggested total concentration and that certainly meant he wasn't to be disturbed.

Under the scrutiny of an increasingly larger amount of orcs, Ed finished the pick head. It was somewhat hefty as Ed didn't know what would be best for such a tool. Luckily most orcs were quite strong so it wouldn't really be a problem and had a chance to instead be preferred by most.

Ed then moved on to making the handle, the easy part. Or at least what should have been the easy part…

Following all of the hammering and chiseling, his previous handle felt insufficiently hefty. That implied he would have to size it down but sizing it down would mean that the original hole he created to insert the pick would be too large.

​ 'I guess I can just slim down most of it and leave the rest as is' Ed didn't intend to half-ass the solution but there really wasn't much else he could do apart from starting over. Which he would when he made a new one.

For tools like picks and hammers which were subjected to a lot of blunt force, it was necessary to firmly attach their components. Otherwise, even if you were using the strongest and most refined of metals you would find that your tool can be broken at a critical moment. ...at least as critical as mining could get.

Ed's own hammer was likely not going to last very long. Although he had made it basically entirely out of the cast, it was ultimately nothing more than iron shaped like a hammer. He could grab any sturdy or heavy object and it would fulfill its same role to a certain lesser degree.

'Hm?' Ed finally noticed a crowd outside of his smithy, he had been too focused.

"What is that?" One orc asked pointing at the tool head and the handle Ed held in both hands.

"This? It's a pickaxe. You use it to mine ore" Ed told the orc before settling back down to return to work on the handle disregarding the fact that the orcs still had no idea what he was talking about.  He returned to work and soon found out that slimming the handle down was nothing but a dream for him.

'It's so… uneven…' It looked like someone pecked at the handle repeatedly and made it lose its firm cylindrical shape. Ed was certain that it would be completely uncomfortable to use the tool alongside such a handle. This meant that... In the end, the handle had to be reforged.

Of course, making a wooden handle would be far easier and effective but for the time being Ed was insistent on improving his forging skills. By this point, some orcs also seemed to have realized that Ed was practicing or messing around. Many of them stopped looking at whatever it was Ed was doing.

The rhythmic beat that came from hammering metal had attracted them but it was gone now. Most of all, watching Ed work was actually kind of boring.

But those that had stuck around for another hour were eventually welcomed by the sight of success.

[Orc Iron Pickaxe]

A hefty Orc Iron pickaxe crafted by a beginner smith. The tool will serve its purpose.

The assessment was somewhat disheartening as Ed thought he had employed enough means to improve the standard assessment of his pickaxe but he once more found consolation in the latter sentence.

'Since these are my first tools it's ok if they don't last' Making sure to carve this message into his head, Ed continued to make the other pickaxes. As more and more time progressed, Ed was forced to assimilate something impromptu.

By that time he had already made many pickaxes so he simply settled for a decently sized chunk of iron. He received two constitution points for this which was, in fact, lesser than when he had assimilated a chunk of metal as a skeleton. This caused Ed to notice that there might really be a limit to the skill but that it could differ from body to body.

'That's curious' Nonetheless it wasn't set in stone. It would need further observation.

As time continued to pass, night had swiftly come for the busy Ed. It reminded him that there were things to be done aside from hammering metal all day.

'In fact, I should probably return to my skeleton body' Previously, Ed would practice at night but… wouldn't returning to his skeleton body be much wiser?

No one would get suspicious since it was normal to sleep at night and he also couldn't wake up the orcs to tell to work at the mine so it was a good way to create a work-rest balance between bodies. Although his mind wouldn't feel the same way.

As for whether or not that mattered… Ed didn't think it did but there was still a chance that it could affect things like his health recovery. The previous attack from the dungeon was bound to be still showing its after-effects.

With all of this in mind, Ed created a hard bed of rock and went right to sleep. It didn't really matter since he wasn't going to be in the body.

'Dungeon! Beam me up!' Ed pretended for a moment that the process was cool and was left disappointed when there was a very much delayed response.

'You are making me look bad here…' Ed chastised inwardly before receiving a message.

[Summoning Dungeon Champion]

'Dungeon-! F*ck it's too lat-!' Ed's childish thoughts were interrupted as his consciousness wavered and was pulled out of his body. He collapsed on his stone bed onto a weird position that would cause some to question whether or not he cared for comfort.

But it mattered no longer, Ed was heading back into the crypts.

***

The life of a skeleton was hard. You had to work day and day out without rest. Always listening to orders from your superiors without any opportunity for fun. But none of them complained as they were already dead.

The main slave drivers were as follows:

Iron as the only death knight had become a sort of the second leader. Trench as the chosen one chosen by Ed would surprisingly take the third spot.

Ever since the first attack by a small party and the cleaning up of a larger punitive force with the assistance of Ed, the skeletons were kept busy. Smaller parties of varying strength had forced them into skirmishes of all sorts.

Under these circumstances, the strong Iron had taken the spotlight. The likes of Pioneer and Prairie who were also part of the first batch of skeletons couldn't really compete. There was some like Scavenger that also simply didn't intend to.

This meant that the skeletons and their society had been developing steadily, even if their form of communication and their interactions were bare and archaic.

SHIFTS

This was the sign for a change of shifts. Practicing couldn't be done excessively and some skeletons had to be designated as lookouts to guard against the human threat.

In the end, the shift change was interrupted as the skeletons in the midst of climbing down, caught sight of new interlopers.. They rattled with both excitement and anger as they were prepared to attack another party.

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