The Legacy of Galryth Winterborn

RP-related board archives from Act V forums.
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Galryth Winterborn
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Character: Galryth Winterborn

The Legacy of Galryth Winterborn

Post by Galryth Winterborn » February 11th, 2019, 8:07 pm

Index:
Intro: The Mother
I. The Father
II. The Craft
III. The Mission
IV. A Home
V. The Maiden
VI. The Mare
VII. The Lantern
VIII. A Father's Fury
IX. Of Emeralds
X. Of Serpents
XI. Fang - (this and under, in progress)
XII. Talon
XIII. Of Unity
XIV. The Room



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Re: The Legacy of Galryth Winterborn

Post by Galryth Winterborn » February 11th, 2019, 9:21 pm

Intro: The Mother


Born the son of a tavern keeper in the midlands, Galryth grew up being raised by his single mother. She was always busy with the running of the tavern, and never had a suitor for long enough to step into the role of fatherhood. Stephen was his favorite of her suitors over the years. He was a smith, and something about watching him turn raw materials into usable objects, captivated him. Bringing your hard work to take shape into functionality...a tool that properly maintained would last longer than the purchaser of it...it was thrilling. Even after his mother and Stephen ended their, brief as usual, relationship; Galryth kept in contact with Stephen, often going to his smithy to watch him work with metals and carry things around for the man. Eventually, Stephen let him do more than carry things, slowly teaching the young man his art. When his mother fell ill, he gave up his apprenticeship and looked after her, and the inn to the best of his ability, which wasn't saying much. He didn't have a good handle on running a business. The staff knew that and took advantage of his naivety in the absence of his much shrewder mother. It started small...it always does...not paying for their food..."forgetting" to charge patrons for services for drink refills in hopes of better tips...and quickly progressed in Galryth's absence until the place was losing substantial coin. He didn't care...all he wanted was to get his mother well again.

But it was not to be...and before the fever took her, they had one last conversation...

"I know that you don't want to continue my business once this is done..." She snorted, mustering the strength for a wry grin before coughing up a slew of phlegm. "You need to follow your own path...you are more him than me...sometimes I wonder if you got any part of me in your blood...you look just like him...and are every bit as hard headed."

Galryth weakly tried to smile, to hide the melancholy in his heart as her time wound down before his eyes...
"You never really talk about him Mother...why? What was so important to leave you behind? Especially with child?"

She was silent for a moment, contemplating the question. "As I said...you're just like him...he had to follow his own path as well...when we were together, he was just starting a journey that would take him to the end of the world...back when this whole mess we are in was thought to perhaps be fixable..."

Stopping for a moment, she looked up at the ceiling with the biggest smile her frail frame could muster. "You have his eyes...and his hair. Silver and black streaked even at a young age then. Some women wouldn't fancy that, but I thought he looked distinguished...even regal. Oh he was a loving man...full of vigor and-"

"I...don't really need to know that part mother..." Galryth interjected, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "What was so important at the End of the World to leave his pregnant partner behind?"

"Well...he had no knowledge of you my boy," She looked away from the ceiling and into her son's blue eyes. "I didn't want to distract him from his course or have him stay out of some notion of honor...which he damn well probably would've...hardheaded fool."

She laughed.

"No...his place was there...as mine was here...we cannot change what the fates have in store for us I'm afraid..."

Galryth nodded slowly, helping his mother turn to the side to release another volley of "lung butter".

"I see...and did he ever accomplish whatever it was they were sent there to do?" He continued the conversation, only marginally interested in the answers, far more concern being placed on her.

"Well that depends on how you look at it..." She coughed once more, trying to hide the bit of blood that came up with that one. "Everything is always a matter of perspective boy...always remember that. Nothing went as it should of there...but I dare say it would've been worse without him...many lives were saved...and many lost...from his actions...but he got out of there before the end...and many with him."


"How do you know? How on Eden could you've kept track of his doings from that far away?" Galryth retorted, almost scoffingly.


"Oh when you own a tavern...you hear lots of things boy..." She looked down, her face slumping. "Lots of things..."


She shook her head, as if shaking a thought away and gathered what little she had left of her strength to grab his shirt collar and pull him in closely.

"After the End of the World he went to Tor...we both know what happened there and my ears heard nothing more of him after that...but if he did get away...and he's too fuckin' stubborn to die...the old goat...he'll be at the First Province...go there...whether he is alive or not your place is there..."

She lost the strength to hold his collar any longer more so than dropped it, closing her eyes and slumping further into her bed.

"I have to stay and hel-"

"Help what?" Her voice cut shrill and deep. "You are not a tavern keeper..." Her eyes remained closed as she interrupted. "We both know that...and I'm not going to be leaving this bed...we both know that as well."

Tears streamed down his face and he snorted the mucus running down his nose and into his silver mustache back into its nostril of orgin.

"Ho..how would I even know him?"

She managed one last laugh before the last of her life force faded from her...

"You'll know him...everyone does...just look for an older version of you doing something incredibly stupid for "the greater good" or any other such nonsense...you look just like him...I hope I'm right and you are more him than I..."
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Re: The Legacy of Galryth Winterborn

Post by Galryth Winterborn » February 11th, 2019, 9:29 pm

I. The Father


The wind blew cold as Galryth's boots slashed in the muddy road of the fort, squishing down into it and making the effort to pull them out more difficult with each step. Rain pelted him in the face, drowning his silverish goatee and laminated long curly hair to his head. It had been a long, wet journey down from rumbling pass and he needed to get inside and warm up soon. His stomach growled, angry at its lack of attention, protesting the day's lack of food. As he stumbled into the tavern, shutting the door against the onslaught of wind, he looked around at the large interior of the building before finding a seat near the bar.

Galryth scanned the faces of those present, most seemed rather intoxicated already, even though the sun had barely crest its zenith. So many faces, so many that looked nothing like him. Dark hair, red, brown, the occasional blond. None of these people looked anything like him...his mother had told Galryth that he looked just like a young version of his father. He rang out the silver hair adorning his head, birthing small puddles on the dirty wooden floor beneath his feet. It mixed with the fresh mud of his boots and would later dry to make new layers of filth for the establishment.

When the man, who he would learn was named Vance turned to face him, his heart sank a bit. This man had silver hair but did not really look like him, or his mothers memory had been off some. Galryth introduced himself, and they shook hands, exchanging stories and talking of the past. Seems this Vance fellow was never at the End of the World, and so could not be his father. He did, however, help the young man start to find a place in the fort...and a mission.
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Re: The Legacy of Galryth Winterborn

Post by Galryth Winterborn » February 11th, 2019, 9:44 pm

II. The Craft



After his meeting with Vance, and their agreement struck, coin for future resources, Galryth was able to buy a packhorse and rent some storage space in the local building which had guards watching to keep thieves a little more at bay. The mare he bought was a brown maned mare, with a lot of energy and personality. She would neigh and rear up on her hind legs whenever he tried to get her to go through water, and so he had to take long ways around everywhere they went. Exploring the vast caverns underneath the land became their sole purpose. Just the two of them, and hundreds of pickaxes with miles upon miles of caverns to explore. He would spend most of his first weeks down there, mapping and mining, mining and mapping.


Haplo, the name he gave to his trusty companion, would help him bring the ore back to town where he would slowly smelt it, growing better at it as he went. Eventually turning those ingots into...things. That's probably the best way to put it, they were useless wastes of material really, but each grotesque piece brought him more lessons and greater knowledge of the art. Before long, he was making things that almost had a use. You looked at it...and thought that maybe it could be used for something...you weren't positive but it looked kind've like a pickaxe or small blade.


Weeks of this grew into actual pickaxes and usable blades. He studied every morning, all of the schematics he could find. Every book on metallurgy there was available, learning their secrets. The rest of the day he spent, clinking away at the rocks below...finding their secrets as well. He remembered a lot of what Stephen had taught him...and learned even more on his own.


His proudest day finally came, after assembling his very first suit of armor. He went out and promptly squared off against a wild boar. Unfortunately for him, being able to make weapons and armor...didnt mean you could use them. After being dragged to safety by Vance, he spent three days recovering from the boar's thrashing...he was bruised and bloody, but his armor and weapon had held up.


It was certainly a long road ahead for him, but this was a start...a start to his craft to come...
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Re: The Legacy of Galryth Winterborn

Post by Galryth Winterborn » February 12th, 2019, 12:16 pm

III. The Misson


"So what do you think?" Vance inquired, pulling the helm from his head and looking over to Galryth in the clearing. "This is where it will be eventually, in case of an outbreak."

The Cog turned in his head once more, as it usually did, ideas flooding through relentlessly. He could see it, the walls...the houses...the training pits and gathering spots...all of it, as perfectly as everyone else saw the land they were on. The vision was all too clear to him and Galryth smiled to himself, looking over the potential. It was a perfect spot, clearly, and he wanted to be a part of it.

Since arriving at the fort, he had struggled to find a place, struggled to find a purpose. Sent to find a father he had little information about, and little care to learn more of at that, it had been an empty and lonely life thus far. He could only envision what it was like to have people around you that appreciated you and what you could do. Truth is, this man was more of a father to him than anyone since Stephen...and he hadn't seen his mother's old lover and the man he apprenticed for in years now.

"I have a proposal," Galryth stated, still surveying the land with piercing blue eyes of clarity. "Why wait? Build it now, I can help you...I will help you. Tell me what you want and I will build it if you allow me to build a mineshaft in this location as well. You want your fort, I want my mineshaft, we are already working together anyway. Wadda you say?"

Vance smiled, without hesitation, and extended his hand to Galryth and with that handshake, the foundations of more than just buildings would begin. Gripping Haplo's reigns, he headed for the nearest mountain, quarrying the stone blocks and shaping them into even squares, loading them up carefully on his trusty friend, the mare Haplo...his first friend...and brought them back to the site, a few at a time. After leveling the ground and checking to make sure the hole dug was square with twine and spyglass, he used a stone and an oversized wooden mallet to tamper them into place flat.

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Once all 64 stones had been placed, a precise mixture of sand, crushed limestone, and water was added between the cracks, and he took Haplo off to the forests while waiting on the mixture to properly set up.

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The rest of the day was spent chopping trees and cutting boards until the framing of the building was complete. Getting them all the same dimensions was easy once the "story board" was made, a board to serve as a master guide, to which all other boards would be measured against and shaved down to match, ensuring the continuity of sizing. The cladding was easier once it began, and this wasn't the first roof he had built, and so within four days and nights, the small home was built.

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Wiping the sweat from his brow, he looked over the home and nodded in satisfaction, taking a bite from the apple he had, and looking to Haplo as she neighed in protest, demanding her own. He laughed, patting the horse's neck and rubbing her mane, feeding the rest of the apple to her, and another for good measure.

"Things are getting better girl...we're gonna be happy here."
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Re: The Legacy of Galryth Winterborn

Post by Galryth Winterborn » February 12th, 2019, 12:47 pm

IV. A Home


"No no no...this cannot be." Galryth half muttered half yelled as he paced the forest south of the clearing for the First Torian Regiment's fort, a device outstretched in one hand, a rough cavern mapping in the other. "FUCK!"

He dropped the diving rod to the ground, kicking it once for good measure and grasped the map with both hands, eyes darting around the area they were in to see where he had made a mistake. There wasn't room...somewhere...somehow he had miscalculated. A hand, covered in chilling metal touched his shoulder as Vance clasped down and tried to turn him around.

"What's the matter?" He asked, concern evident. "Everything alright "son"?" Even during the serious inquisition, the slight smirk of the ever-evolving and entertaining joke showed their effect.

"There's no room..." Galryth muttered, still looking down at his map and rebuking the man's attempt to turn him to face him. "I can't build a shaft here, there's too much shit in the way and the caverns are further south than I anticipated...I will have to relocate."

His heart raced a bit, a strange fear beginning to creep up, as he realized he was not going to be able to set up camp with them here...that he hadn't accomplished anything he had set out to do yet. A voice echoed in the recesses of his young mind..."You'll never get it...you'll never be good enough for it...you don't deserve it..."

He blinked hard, shoving them back into the abyss that spawned them, gritting his teeth and turning to hear Vance mid-speech. How long had Vance been speaking? He must've gotten lost in his own thoughts.

"...find you a new place, don't worry." Vance finished, patting his shoulder with that hand before removing it. "The deal stands regardless, I will arrange to buy you a claim stake and we will set it up where you need it."

He nodded with uncertainty. He hadn't prepared a backup plan for this contingency, didn't anticipate that there was a chance it wouldn't fit. He would have to find a new location...and fast.

After a week of prospecting different areas, some lacking the resources needed, some not with suitable land to build on, he found something. Something interesting. An old mine shaft built into the mountainside near the cannibal caves, but not so near that it would pose a problem. Right by its entrance, a perfectly flat lay of land the correct size for a small home. Too perfect.

He nodded to himself with satisfaction and ruffled Haplo's mane before unloading her of the stone blocks, she was already familiar with this process from the last house he had built and she walked around to feed on the grasses while waiting for him to be done moving the blocks into place.

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"Don't you wander off now girl, I need you." He scolded, sticking an accusing finger at the horse, who he spoke to like a person far too often he sometimes thought. "Wouldn't want anything to happen to you."

He could almost understand the defiant neigh that came out of the horse. "Yea yea yea..." It was funny how the body language of animals could suggest their vocalizations meaning to you more than anything, as she threw her head up, whipping it around and turned her back to him, heading to the water to drink.

Already having the wood trimmed and ready to go, it didn't take more than a few days to finish the building and he began furnishing it, creating a little workshop and drawing the schematics for the rest of the plans, a little pen with a transplanted apple tree for Haplo, a rain collection barrel rigged to a hose with a floater to allow for automated refilling of her trough, a palisade wall to run to the sides of the mountain, ensuring no wild animals or cannibals could slip in behind them and catch them off guard in the mines.


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"It's not done yet girl...but it's a home."
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Re: The Legacy of Galryth Winterborn

Post by Galryth Winterborn » February 12th, 2019, 1:22 pm

V. The Maiden


"Wanna go explore?!" His voice was high and excited as he rubbed his hands together and looked to the man in plate. "It'll be fuuuuun."

Silver hair fell in curls to the now steel colored plate that was once golden and Vance looked him over quizzically for a few moments. "You sure you're ready?"

"OH YEA!" He blurted out like an excited child trapped in a young man's body. "Been practicin' for weeks!"

And he had been, he was able to take down a doe, and an eagle, with his new boomerang that he had fashioned himself. Not too shabby if he did say so himself.

Vance laughed heartily, "Alright son, let's go. Where to?" The second word becoming less a joke as the weeks went on.

"Do you know of any cavern entrances?" Galryth leaned in, putting his mapping of the caverns on the table in front of Vance. "And also...where this is..." He pointed to the rough area he believed to be the spot he had seen in the mines.

And so they're journey began, passing over the different areas around the Fort, making their way to whatever cavern entrances Vance knew of, and one that he was most excited about. In his own mining by his new house, there was a small underground river he had come to, and at its other bank, he saw a stone stairway in the darkness, another entrance! A way to another side of the river. What potential ore would be there? He had to know...he had been mapping every vein and every turn of the caverns he had encountered, and already the map was promising to be his greatest work...these rivers created problems though, impassable, and stopping his progress. This was to be a great leap forward in that endeavor.

He was excited, almost giddy, the thoughts of exploring places he'd yet to be, to delve into caverns he hadn't touched yet. To boldly go...where many (but not him) had gone before...

Strange creatures were at this forest that, according to his calculations, was around where the shaft should be. Things he had never seen before...trees that moved! Trees that could actually attack, their limbs making horrific creaking noises as if in a terrible wind, as it brought its long branches to bare against them. Huge monstrosities, twice as tall as a building and fast, tried to stop their advance, but they were able to make their way below, where Galryth thirstily took to the rock formation with his pickaxe.

So consumed by his obsession with mapping the ore veins that he didn't hear half of what happened next. It wasn't until the fourth time Vance yelled for him that he finally stopped, hearing a strange sound before walking over to join him at the river...was that...was that a flute?

There, across the river, where he had stood a few days ago, there was a woman. A beautiful woman, with long black hair and eyes that glistened despite the low light, they're color as mysterious to him as the ore veins he so sought. She was pale as the moon and didn't seem to notice them at first, happily playing a "little diddy" on her flute, dancing around. Oh...and she was completely naked. His heart bounced as did her assets. It was only the second time he had seen a nude woman, the first was more of a blanket of fat than a woman, and there was no figure to her...no dimensions other than girth. He honestly didn't know woman's bodies could be so..curvy.

Upon noticing them, almost like a startled rabbit, she disappeared into the darkness of the cavern, and they were left standing there, looking after where the visage had gone.

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{Insert dirty Vance "dad-joke" here}

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The rest of the journey...he couldn't even remember. Like a blur, or a moment in time that his brain just didn't care to recall. All he could see in his mind's eye was that hauntingly lovely figure...and all he could hear was a strangely intoxicating melody...one he couldn't shake.

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Re: The Legacy of Galryth Winterborn

Post by Galryth Winterborn » February 12th, 2019, 1:33 pm

VI. The Mare
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The sun had just begun to set, still the same day Vance and he had seen the strange women below the Ancient Forest, as Galryth and Haplo headed into the mines. He was in high spirits, going along his favorite stretch of the mines, humming to himself without even being aware of it. The sound of his work is all he could hear, the loud clank of metal meeting rock, and the similar noise of Haplo's metal shoed hooves on the hard stone floor.

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Rounding the last corner of his favorite vein, he knocked down the last of the stone and chipped away the valuable pieces before leading Haplo into the small opening he knew was just ahead. They would stop there and take a rest for a while before maybe going in deeper along the left corridor that he had yet to explore. The air in the chamber was different though...off...as if something were making weigh more. Suddenly the weight doubled, then again, and again, until he could hardly stand.

Out of the rock cavern, a horrid creature emerged, an old woman-like thing, but obviously not human. It was haunched over and decrepit. The very definition of disgusting. Before he could even begin to understand what was happening or have any chance of defending himself, the creature turned towards him, an arm extended and then something happened...something he would never forget for the rest of his life ....(Be that long or short, we don't really know yet)

It came from the very stone above their heads, crackling down through to stone below their feet, straight through whatever was in it's way...and that happened to be Haplo. The horse screamed as the lightning shot through its body and down into the shoes on it's hooves...the backup lantern oil Galryth kept on her immediately ignited, the horse catching fire... It bucked and reared, kicking its legs and making the most horrid guttural cries.

That's when it hit him....the smell...

Part of it smelled wonderful, like a freshly browned steak, whose flesh had crisped and would hold in the moisture for a delicious meal...mixed with the terrible stench of oil and hair combustion, the leather from the bridle, and the packs Haplo had on her. It assaulted him like a wave as the burning horse struggled and the pickaxe fell from his hand.

It clanged onto the stone floor as time seemed to come to a halt around him...that smell...a burning horse...clung to his clothes as he turned away from it....that sight...a burning friend...stung his eyes as he gathered speed towards the exit...that feeling... utter fear...thrust it's way into his heart as his legs pumped, carrying him away as fast as he could go...that taste...of thick air choked with the smoke of his abandonment...and that sound...the last thing he heard...a final cry...from the friend he left behind...the animal he left to die...


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Re: The Legacy of Galryth Winterborn

Post by Galryth Winterborn » February 13th, 2019, 9:21 am

VII. The Lantern (And The Asshole)

The events in the mines only a few days behind him. His friends in the First Torian Regiment tried to comfort him, make him feel better...well most of them. Margaret, though not an actual member, offered to supply logs for him to rebuild his house elsewhere, Vance offered to put up the coin to buy a new packhorse, though you really can't purchase a new friend...a new animal yes...but it wouldn't be the same. Gryhun offered to let him use his packhorse Grabin while he got back on his feet to buy his own. He was happy to have such wonderful people around him and all the generous offers of aid.

He was reluctant to take the aid, but did, with a firm nod to himself that he would be paying these people back...once he was better at his art, it wouldn't be long now...he'd pay them all back 3 fold for their help. He had just finished a long mining trip, as usual, and was exhausted, headed back to the craft hall before planning for bed, when he heard it...a voice. Disembodied and queer...coming from...a lantern?

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He stared off...wondering whether it was the thing from the caverns...or if he was truly mad now...as footsteps approached.

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Gryhun's face was covered, hiding any facial expressions. Galryth lowered his voice to speak to him...

"How long do those mushrooms you gave me yesterday last...? Cause I think I'm freakin' out a little..." He looked around slowly, expecting some other inanimate object to speak, or maybe dance around a little. Wood grains were always fun to look at. They'd dance and swirl...hours of fun.

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Gryhun...and the lantern...suggested they get a drink at the bar. Honestly, he knew that was either going to be the best idea for the current issue or the worst. Only going would determine which was which. The fear in his heart was actually more than it was the thing from the caverns speaking to him through that...it'd be better to be going mad he thought.

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The voice returned...a woman's voice...raspy and harsh from behind him..."buy them drinks..." and so he did...his heart beginning to race....it was her...it was..."Have Rikard bless the round...", it instructed and he obeyed. He rubbed his face as he handed the ale out, asking Rikard to bless it just as the voice said...he wondered what it could possibly want...why was it doing this?

"By the way Galryth...your horse was delicious"

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His response...he didn't expect...he didn't even think about, it just happened...like lightning...fury raged up in him at the words and he spun in his stool instantly unleashing the words.

"Fuck you". The words felt like fire on his lips as his anger seethed over, drowning the fear and anxiety of before. Covering in a hot exhilaration. "Haplo was mine!"

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"Haplo was a good horse! Why did you do that?!" He belted.

"I was hungry..."the voice responded...sounding...different....almost muffled...almost interrupted...what could it be...he couldnt put a finger on it...

He looked between them...Gryhun was shaking a little bit...rhythmically...

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"Powerful Champion..." the voice ended it already in a half laugh, it having lost the faked affeminate tones halfway through the words, and Gryhun was doubled over in laughter already. "I can throw my voice man, it's me...I'm just messin' with you," Gryhun said, as he could through the small breaks in hysterics.

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Re: The Legacy of Galryth Winterborn

Post by Galryth Winterborn » March 6th, 2019, 8:04 pm

VIII. A Father's Rage

Another day spent in the mines...*TINK...TINK...TINK*...another night spent in the smithy, working the bellows and hammering the steel...*THUD....THUD...THUD....HISSSSSSSSSSSSS*...another pile of worthless junk...

This was his life...this was what he had done since arriving at Fort Praesidium. Take wonderful raw materials he had painstakingly gathered...and turned them into absolute garbage. With each swing of the hammer and each subsequent pile of refuse, he had created, however, his knowledge and experience of metalworking grew...until finally, wiping the sweat from his brow and streaking it with dirt in the process. He has finally figured out the correct way to temper and work a blade made of iron to near perfection.

He knew what his first project would be, and to whom it would be for, and he began work on it immediately. It was only fitting that the first blade he could forge of any decency go this person and it excited him just to think of the reaction he would have. Finally, a small thing to repay all of the kindness this person had showed him, and the help he had offered the young man in getting himself to the point where he could even accomplish a work of this magnitude.

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The iron sung as he struck it with the hammer, giving it shape...giving it strength...giving it form...giving it purpose. Giving it a reason to exist outside it's home in the rocks beneath the land. The blade itself, he made longer than what he would consider being a normal one-handed blade, tapering it to a finer edge at the tip to both allow for better thrusting, if needed, and to cut down the weight and properly balance it in compensation for the additional length. The hilt, of beaten brass, he had forged into what looked like a cross (once the blade was inserted at least), with 3 giant warhammers, their head's all facing outward. On the face of each Warhammer, he had spent a week alone, hand chiseling depictions of the virtues on each one. The most massive warhammer, which served as the handle and pommel, he put what he thought were the 2 most prevelant to the weilder of the blade and one additional symbol...a pair of shaking hands...

The hands meant the most to him...they signfied a lot. First, a representation of their "deal" when he had first arrived. One that he had every intention of fulfilling as soon as he could...one which this blade would mark a major step towards completing...they were also a signifier of Vance's goals...ones he attributed to an old friend of his that Vance had spoken of a few times...and finally....it was a promise...a promise that he would always be there to help...for he was given help when he had nothing, and he would never forget that. The shaking hands represented one thing...unity.

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There was a tear in the man's eye as he handed him the sword, sheathed in a fine maple handle and wrapped in a fine cloth, and explained to him the meaning of it all, pointing out the intricate scroll work, and the different sigils on the blade. "I'm proud of you "son"..." He said, the emotion in his voice all too evident even from under the hood...

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If he was proud of this accomplishment...Galryth smirked to himself...just wait....
Last edited by Galryth Winterborn on March 8th, 2019, 3:57 am, edited 5 times in total.

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