Harry Potter and the Berserker

Chapter 47

Disclaimer- Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling and Berserk is owned by Kentaro Miura. I own nothing.

Shortly after arriving in Falconia and securing a room at an inn for both he and Erica, Rickert set out in search of blacksmithing work. Erica was convinced that he would be able to apprentice for any smith willing to have him, he did serve under her father for over two years after all. Rickert considered it good providence that he had taken some of his tinker inventions along to show some of the smiths in order to better impress them.

They included a miniaturized repeating crossbow similar to the one Guts possessed currently, a design for new wagon wheels, and maybe his favorite out of the bunch; a hose. It seemed simple but the meaning and value behind it had much greater value. The hose came attached to a wooden chamber and pump and when filled with water could spray out the end to douse out of control flames. It had been something Godo had been working on as he was always worried that living above a forge his home would one day be set ablaze from the sparks and embers below. With a paranoid mind and the will to keep Erica safe, the two of them had got to work on making the first of its kind.

"Did you make all this stuff yourself, lad?" one blacksmith asked him as Rickert traveled the clean streets of the city.

"Mostly," Rickert answered modestly. "I had the designs for a lot of other inventions as well, but I was only able to gather so much before monsters started showing up all over the land."

"Monsters? Ain't that the truth. I remember a time when this world wasn't so complicated; all I had to worry about then was the threat of real humans during the Hundred-Year War, now it's like everything has been turned up on its head. We got people from Chuder flocking in here, people who were rich and poor, and even Kushan. Funny how a common threat will bring people together like that. Thank God for Grifith."

"Yeah. He must be something." Is this really Griffith? Rickert wondered. The last he saw of his former leader he had ridden off on Zodd after Guts and Harry tried attacking him. They had both been very secretive, only mentioning that Griffith was the reason all the rest of the Hawk's had perished that day.

The blacksmith slid a piece of parchment over to Rickert. "Tell you what, you got me interested in some of these designs, they're not what you see in everyday surroundings; but Falconia isn't like any other city, now, is it? Can you write your name?"

"Sure I can," Rickert said, trying not to seem insulted by the question. He knew many people from his social standing usually couldn't read.

"Why don't you go and put your name down, I'll be sure to send it in." he handed Rickert a quill as well.

"Oh, are you not the blacksmith?" Rickert asked, confused as to why he was being asked to do so.

"Of course I'm the blacksmith here!" he gave a hearty laugh. "This is just to send up to the officials in the palace."

"Huh?"

"Hm? Oh, right, you're new. You see, it's a way of keeping a head count of the population, right. Anyone who arrives and seeks out work, a home or anything has to send their name in. If they know how many people are here, they know how much food they'll need to grow. The land just outside the city walls is fertile that farmers have already begun plowing the fields. You probably saw when you came in, but those giant glowing rocks out there, they keep the monsters away; just something about them that helps keep us all safe."

"Right, that makes sense, I suppose." Rickert dipped the quill in ink and wrote out his name.

"Much appreciated, lad." The blacksmith gave him a nod of his head. "I'll send this up soon as I finish up work today. I expect to see you back here tomorrow morning before the sun rises, and that is a 'yes' to the apprenticeship."