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Post by Sir Lighter of Elsewhere on Jun 12, 2009 19:59:30 GMT -5
Sturm stood idly on the barren wasteland, looking out over the miles and miles over frozen terrain. He stood upright, watching the horizon for the smith that he had hired. He held the shattered pieces of Cool Fire, his magical katana, hoping that the smith could repair his weapon. He knew that the only way to recover its icy abilities was to have it repaired here, in the Ice Temple, where it was forged so long ago. The bastard Black had destroyed it back in Razortooth, during his battle with Darklighter and the Nightmare God. He had spent several weeks looking for a smith brave enough to venture out to the old, dangerous Ice Temple. A master swordsman, as well as a blacksmith. Sturm thought it to be a strange combination of professions, but remained happy that someone could fix his weapon. |
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Post by steinerman on Jun 12, 2009 20:24:51 GMT -5
Michael checked the the scrap of map attached to the windshield of his vehicle. He glared at the scrap for a moment before realizing that the massive structure looming out of the snow flurry must be his destination.
He was driving a modified military Humvee, painted in snow camouflage and missing the turret for which the vehicle was known. It's rear compartment was devoid of seating, instead having been converted into a cargo compartment. This compartment was stuffed with equipment, including his armor, sword, and the pieces of Heaven's Forge he would need to fix a blade.
He'd been given no specifications as to the blade he was intended to repair, but was confident of his ability to fix even the most damaged of weapons with the forge pieces that were snugly fit into the back of the vehicle. His only qualm was his employer, about whom he knew almost nothing, not even the name.
He squinted through the snow and saw the outline of a figure standing near the base of the structure that must be the ice temple, he gunned the engine slightly and headed carefully for his presumed employer. Weather permitting, he would reach the man within two minutes.
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Post by Sir Lighter of Elsewhere on Jun 12, 2009 21:03:41 GMT -5
Sturm watched as the Humvee roared across the ice covered field, kicking up snow as it went. Finally, the Humvee reached the Temple. A young man sat in the driver's seat, looking at the ragged map that Sturm had sent.
"Mr. Saint, I presume? I am Sturm, your employer. Normally, I would hide, and make you play a cat and mouse game while I find out everything about your character, but right now, I don't have the time. Just money, and broken blade. If you could step out, I'll show you..."
Sturm unwrapped the blanket that wrapped Cool Fire, revealing the decimated sword. About fifteen separate pieces of blue steel lay on the blanket.
"I hope you can fix this... We must go inside. I can help you bring any tools you need inside the temple. But the blade needs to be repaierd inside the ice Temple, or else it will lose its abilities. And this sword is too valuable to lose." Sturm rewrapped the broken sword, giving it to Michael. "Now, what should I carry? Right now, I can carry just about anything. The cold, it's wonderful." |
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Post by steinerman on Jun 12, 2009 21:58:53 GMT -5
Michael nodded cordially to his temporary employer, though the comment about cat and mouse did make him pause slightly. But then again, he'd worked for odd and eccentric employers before, this man was no different, (he hoped).
He looked carefully at the shattered pieces of Katana lying in the blanket. He smiled, "Katana's are hard to reforge, especially in this environment. But not impossible. Mr. Sturm, you have yourself a blacksmith." He reverently held the wrapped sword-pieces in their blanket, then carefully set it into one of the pouches in his workbelt.
Now that the job was settled, Michael moved quickly, heading to the back of the humvee and retrieving the gear he would need. He hefted most of it, then asked, "perhaps you could carry that furnace? It's a portable version of my main one, but still fairly heavy. It'll save me a trip back out if you could carry it."
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Post by Sir Lighter of Elsewhere on Jun 13, 2009 12:58:19 GMT -5
Effortlessly, Sturm lifted the furnace, and then strolled off in front of the smith. "Follow me please. Oh, yes, and there are some smithing tools here. I left them after I forged Cool Fire. I would fix it myself, but it's been too long since I've last touched a hammer. And Cool Fire is one of a kind. Well now, a few more minute, and we'll be there."
Sturm walked in silence for a few minutes, before reaching the forge. The air was cool, but not nearly as cold as the air outside. A few tools were spread about the room. They were covered in a light layer of snow. Sturm set the furnace down, and turned around. "Here we are. Now, are you ready to start?"
Sturm stood back and waited as the smith prepared to start. |
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Post by steinerman on Jun 13, 2009 20:45:10 GMT -5
Michael walked carefully along behind Sturm, quietly assessing the man. He wasn't sure if he liked this thin malnourished looking man, "but then again," he thought to himself, "he has a good blade. And it's always a pleasure working on a good blade." For the moment, that reasoning seemed good enough to him.
When they reached the forge room, Michael quickly went to work. Carefully turning on the furnace and heating the tools he'd need. The room around began to warm quickly. Behind him, Sturm asked if he was ready to start. Michael stripped off his heavy outer shirt and nodded, "yes, once the furnace heats properly it will get quite warm in here. Not excessively so, but if you don't like the heat then I suggest you wait in another room. It will take me several hours to reforge your blade." With that he turned and carefully unfolded the wrapped pieces, assessing which one's he'd need to work on first.
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Post by Sir Lighter of Elsewhere on Jun 13, 2009 22:06:41 GMT -5
Sturm groaned at the thought of heat, but he stayed in the room. "I'll stay." Sturm leaned against the wall, and removed his trench coat. "Carry on." Sturm watched the smith intently, observing him work. "Are you a fighter, or just a smith?" |
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Post by steinerman on Jun 14, 2009 17:25:55 GMT -5
Without looking up, Michael answered calmly, unsurprised by the question. "I fight when the need calls for it. Technically I'm a mercenary, though I rarely work for money, most of my income is from my forge, though I don't work for just anyone. I actually wasn't going to do this job for you as it was a long way to travel. But then it turned out that I had to be in the area anyways, so it worked out quite nicely, a true honor to work on such a fine blade."
He continued his slow work, piecing together the shards, and hoped that his answer would satisfy Sturm. Though I didn't exactly answer his real question, he thought to himself.
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Post by Sir Lighter of Elsewhere on Jun 14, 2009 19:57:32 GMT -5
Fancies himself a wordsmith as well, dancing around my questions. He's a bright one. Sturm thought to himself. He wiped the sweat off his forehead, groaning slightly. "I'm guessing that you are a swordsman? Most smiths I have seen often think of swords just as tools, and nothing more... I knew the to my question before hand. I did my homework before hiring you. This isn't any regular blade, and I needed the best smith I could find. And you are the best that would come out here. Plus, you know your way around a sword. Tell me, who is that woman you travel with? Do not be alarmed, I am a spy. I know everything. I also know that some bad people are interested in you. What do you know of The Order of the Silver Star? Mr. Black? How about Mr. Lighter? Oh, yes, and if I were you, I'd start carrying a flash light. It might save your life some day." Sturm groaned at the heat, before waking over to look at his sword. "How's it coming?" |
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Post by steinerman on Jun 15, 2009 21:42:13 GMT -5
Michael froze, how did this man know about Jill?. He took a slow breath and went back to work, contemplating his next move. He decided honesty was the best policy for know, and spoke accordingly. "The woman I normally travel with is another player, she and I are starting a guild. But I haven't seen her in several weeks. I came to this continent on a tip that didn't pan out. Since I was in the area, I decided to take your job."
He glanced down at the shards, which were starting to resemble a Katana once more. Then he looked up curiously, "The order of the Silver star? I've heard bits and pieces, very little in truth. Why do you ask?"
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Post by Sir Lighter of Elsewhere on Jun 15, 2009 22:16:02 GMT -5
Sturm smiled as he saw his blade come together. "Jill, eh? Nice name. And a guild you say? I'd beware. The Angels don't take kindly to guilds. Like the Order of the Silver Star. They are a large, nasty group of assassins. Don't cross them. They don't like heroes. People with big swords and bigger hearts, people that will never stop to end injustice. And you are a hero, with your guild and all. And if you get in their way, they will stomp you. They can blow you sky-high, or just leave you in a ditch somewhere. Be careful. I'd hate to see a swordsman die." Sturm bent down and picked up some snow, then rubbed over his forehead. Tired from the heat, he sat down and started to clean his fingernails with one of his many throwing knives. After reaching a suitable level of cleanliness, Sturm began to polish his Desert Eagle. "So, you never really answered my first question. Do you fight?" |
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Post by steinerman on Jun 20, 2009 12:49:59 GMT -5
Michael shook his head, "Though the Angels won't like us, hopefully they'll not bother us either. I have a few friends in their ranks, I believe they respect me enough to not try and destroy my guild, not at first anyways." He ended with a wry smile.
He glanced back down the the blade, noticed a small imperfection, and quickly tapped it out before the area could cool. "As to your first question," he continued, "Yes, I fight. Quite a lot actually, I regularly do sweeps of the Highways and city slums. Do what little good I can. Why do you ask?"
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Post by Sir Lighter of Elsewhere on Jun 21, 2009 22:15:01 GMT -5
Sturm grinned slightly at the question, happy with the man's honesty. "Oh, well, I am a bit out of practice, and a nice, friendly, not bloody duel would be nice. If you're up to it, I mean." As a sign of good faith, Sturm removed his trench coat, and removed his Desert Eagle and throwing knives. Sturm then wrapped the coat around him, and started to go through the motions for several sword strikes. |
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Post by steinerman on Jun 23, 2009 13:31:24 GMT -5
Michael was slightly taken aback by the odd request, but then again, practice is usually a good thing he thought. He nodded to his employer, "Intriguing idea. Would you like to use your sword? I'm almost finished with it."
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Post by Sir Lighter of Elsewhere on Jun 28, 2009 21:51:28 GMT -5
"Of course." Sturm waited a few minutes for Michael to finish up the blade.
"Ah... feels just like I remember. Nice, cold, and perfectly balanced. Now, are you an honest, noble swordsman, or am I just going to screw with some ax fighter? I hate axes with a passion... old vengeance. Now, let's do this thing." Sturm readied his blade, holding the grip with with both hands. He stood with his feet shoulder with apart, the left foot in front slightly.
"Need a sword, or do you have your own?" |
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