|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Wed Sep 17, 2008 7:12 pm
A medium sized fishing town, the people living here are mostly fishermen who fish of a large lake next to the town. The town was prosperous for there was a certain fish that could not be found anywhere except in that lake and the ones surrounding it. The town is up north so the temperature is mostly cold, but during the spring and summer months it will warm up freeing the lakes of ice and allowing the men to fish.
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Sep 17, 2008 7:42 pm
The hammer clanged down on the glowing metal. Sparks leaped off the anvil platform in a fiery arc, then died into the dimness of the stone chamber. The heavy hammer swung again and again, guided effortlessly by a muscled arm.
The smith wore only a pair of pants and a leather apron tied about his waist in the small, hot chamber. Black lines of soot had settled in the muscular grooves across his broad shoulders and chest, and he glistened with sweat in the orange glow of the forge. His movements where marked by such rhythmic, tireless ease that they seemed almost preternatural, as though he were the god who had forged the world in the days before mortal man.
He slammed his hammer against the iron, flattening its incredibly hard head more and more into the semblance of a blade. He held the blade in front of him, feeling its balance he gave a satisfied grin then dipped the blade into the bitter water. Steam filled the room, but quickly died down.
A man clad in silver armour entered the shop, his armour was heavy but he made not a sound as he walked, and kneeled in front of the blacksmith. “My master I have acquired what you wish.” The figure said raising and setting a large piece of mithral on the anvil in front of the blacksmith.
The blacksmith ran his fingers along the ore envisioning what it will soon become. “Thank you, I have a new mission for you. “ The blacksmith spoke his words silent; he walked over and placed his hand on the armoured man shoulder.
“I understand I shall leave at once.” The man bowed low and turned to leave.
The Blacksmith reached into the frosty water and drew out the scimitar he had just been mending and through it at the armoured man. He quickly yet gracefully turned and caught the weapon. “Try to not to break it this time.” The figure bowed and exited.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Oct 06, 2008 2:46 pm
The blacksmith was breathing heavily; he had put a lot of strain on his body these past 10 days. His body was drenched in sweat, soot lining the grooves of his muscles; he slowly set his hammer down on the anvil and turned towards his companion. A large red dragon lay around him; the two were in a great cave deep in the mountains near Horizons.
“Damn its bitter, you know how much I hate the cold.” The Dragon complained turning his head.
The blacksmith set the newly born sword into a barrel of cold water.
“You complain a lot.” The Blacksmith chuckled as he made his way and grabbed the remaining half of the Mithral he had brought with him.
The dragon gave a low growl, “I just dislike being separated from my treasure you know that.”
The blacksmith made his way back and set the Mithral on the anvil and picked up his hammer, “This is it once where finished this blade we are done. It shall take another ten days or more, but this is where I need your help the most.” He ran his hand along the ore, and then tightened the cloth around his eyes. Well where his eyes used to be now there where only empty sockets, a strange blue glow radiated from the sockets which seethed through the cloth giving the impression that he had some sort of supernatural vision. Which was true indeed this man had spectral vision and saw through energy patterns he saw things in greater clarity. His sight was far greater than anyone’s.
The dragon growled again, having to stay here another couple weeks was something he’d rather not to do. “Alright let us get this over with.” The dragon lowered his head and inhaled his lungs began to glow bright and he exhaled a fiery blast into the large forge.
The blacksmith chuckled, nearly passing out from the heat. “Thank you my friend, this weapon shall be my finest creation”
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Jan 20, 2009 6:23 am
Whitefire was without words staring at the new scimitars that his master had just given him. Beautifully crafted flawless in their design, he could feel their magical properties tingling his fingers. He set them down and drew out his old weapons and replaced them with his new. “Thank you Master.” He finally spoke kneeling down on one knee.
“No need you deserve them, you have done very well these past 4 years.” The blacksmith smiled patting the youth on the shoulder. “Now let us be on our way.” He spoke walking over to the corner of the room, there leaning against the wall was his weapon. A blade that hadn’t seen us in many years, he smiled he could sense the magic returning to the blade finally after all the years. He grasped the weapon. “Are you ready old friend?”
The gummi ship disappeared from sight in the darkness of space.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Reply
