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Post by tallshiips on Jan 11, 2017 14:14:31 GMT -6
Cormac & Rune
Early Spring, Year 1700 There are just under six months until the events of Chapter 3, and Cormac needs to refurbish his daggers after a winter of gathering dust. As such, he searches up Rune, the smith recommended by Ansgar, to see what she can do.
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Post by tallshiips on Jan 11, 2017 15:25:49 GMT -6
Cormac
Bloody Flank Raider  The stallion shook his thick mane, throwing off the veil of sleep as he hauled his body up the steep stairs from his cabin to the deck of his ship. Murmuring a hasty 'good morning[' to her, he stretched as he paced the deck, eating up the length with his long stride until he reached the point on her hull where it was safe to jump to the shingle below. Landing with a muffled grunt of exertion, he turned towards the ocean and closed his eyes in a silent prayer to the sea goddess, Cascade.
Once his supplication had finished, he opened his eyes once more and was greeted by the sight of the sun rising to the east, painting the horizon with all hues of blue and pink. But he forced himself away from the beauty of the spectacle and instead turned his mind to the task at hand. His daggers needed refurbishing, that was fair to say: they'd been by his side for many years now and the leather bindings that held everything together were beginning to rot; the obsidian hilts and decorative opals were scratched and battered, and the steel blades were looking a little worse for wear - perhaps reaching the end of their lifespan. And yet he'd delayed through the winter months, focussing his attentions elsewhere, on other tasks that needed doing.
But he could put it off no longer, not since the announcement by of a possible land raid on some poorly-guarded herding villages, and so he'd been driven to Rune. He could, arguably, have travelled to Skeldr or even further afield, but he was confident in the education she had received. Although Vidar and Astrid had a visit planned to the town at the base of the mountain, he was confident that he didn't want to tag along with them on their journey. And anyway, he told himself, he wanted to support the growth and independence of his clan, and that involved visiting their own artists whenever he could.
As such, within a few minutes, he found himself on the doorstep of a small house within the main village, hoof raised and ready to strike the heavy wood of the door. He shook his head of his doubts, reassured himself that they were unfounded, and knocked - two sharp raps - all in an instant, so he wouldn't have the chance to persuade himself otherwise.
399 words || post 1
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Post by thorinoakenshield24 on Jan 11, 2017 21:20:28 GMT -6
Rune- Bloody Flanks- Raider
In most cases, Rune was not exactly an early riser as truth be told there was no need for her to be p with that of the sun, not after the bulk of her raider training had since been concluded. But it seemed that morning Rune forced herself out of bed to resume her constant tinkering with the cursed crossbow design. So far Rune had suceeded in tearing apart her grandfather's old crossbow, hoping to be able to piece it back together and get it to fire once more. However as Rune averted her gaze towards the various scraps of parchment that were nailed to her home's walls, the unicorn frowned as she swore she studied her notes to the point she should have figured out some better firing mechanism by now. But even with her constant study, Rune felt she was getting nowhere and often she figured she may as well work on something else. Other then crossbows, daggers were just as familiar and such a distraction would be good. However as she went to grab another roll of parchment from her desk, her ears swerved hearing two quick, sharp raps on her door. A strained snort left Rune as she assumed it to be her grandfather or father as they really were the only ones she could imagine to be knocking on her door this early in the morning. Of course she told them that she was not to be disrupted till late morning but it seemed they needed a reminder. Opening the door a bit forceful, Rune's words left her mouth rather quickly, as if the silver bay mare had rehearsed them for quite some time. "I thought we discussed I'm not available till before noon? Whatever you need can wait till then as your...-" Her words cut off rather quickly as Rune's crimson gaze fell on the larger stallion that was most currently not any family member of hers. Clearing her throat rather awkwardly, Rune seemed to gather herself once more before she faced the stallion, her gaze sweeping over him befire she finally spoke. "Forgive me, I thought you were someone else. How can I help you?" Hopefully she didn't make a complete fool out of herself as from the looks of the stallion before her, she could bet he was one of the clan leaders sons though she hadn't been face to face with this stallion before. Word Count: 403 Post #1 |
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Post by tallshiips on Jan 14, 2017 6:01:58 GMT -6
Cormac
Bloody Flank Raider Cormac's jaw dropped as he came face to face with the silver brown unicorn for the first time, and instead of politely introducing herself or asking who he was, she promptly let loose a string of angry words. Confused, the stallion swivelled his ears away from her words and took a tentative step back, believing to have found the wrong household. But as he took in the mare stood in front of him, he could not see how she could be anyone but the smith he'd been recommended by his brother. He shook his head and considered just walking away, journeying to Skeldr undercover to find someone to smith them properly. This mare didn't seem in quite the right mind frame to craft the blades that would hold his life in the balance.
But then her demeanour changed, from offensive to apologetic, and she took him in with a cursory glance of her eyes. She thought he'd been someone else. He shrugged - it was an easy enough mistake to make if you didn't often get visitors - but he couldn't help wondering that a Raider, even a novice such as herself, should've been trained a little more in the ways of self-control and observation.
"Are you Rune?" He asked bluntly, not wanting to stick to the polite formalities now that she hadn't made the best of first impressions upon him. But he knew little of her life, so he grudgingly accepted her apology and offered her a second and final chance to prove her skill with an anvil. "Ansgar recommended that I seek you out to refurbish my daggers." He spoke flatly, with little emotion, for as much as it'd be nice to support one of the clan's own smiths, there were plenty more in Onea who wouldn't turn down his payment and might to a better job than the apprentice. But his brother had assured him that it would be fine, that she was skilled but also a breath of fresh air to the smithing trade, and he trusted Ansgar's judgement. He just hoped that his faith in her hadn't been misplaced.
352 words || post 2
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Post by thorinoakenshield24 on Jan 20, 2017 21:10:08 GMT -6
Rune - Bloody Flanks - Raider Way to go...you sure made a imprecation Rune... The internal voice of her scowled as she noticed the stallion's own expression not to mention the rather blunt and straight to the point tone in his voice. Seems Rune would have to do the very thing she hated, was to swallow that pride and try to make up for her initial tone. However it was the stallion's offer that snapped her attention from inside her head back towards the older stallion. "Uh...yes. Yes I can. Please come in." Rune replied with a eager nod before she stepped aside as to let the older stallion through. Even if her initial response was not the best, Rune knew her manners and it was better to invite a guest in to discuss matters then leave him on her doorstep. Once inside, Rune closed the door before striding over to her work table, quickly pushing things aside as to make room. Various bits and pieces of her crossbow scattered towards the end of the table to make room for her hopefully new project. Out of habit, Rune snatched one of the various worn pieces of parchment nailed to her wall before placing it on the table. Her ears swerved back towards the stallion. "Pay no mind to the mess. I wasn't really expecting guests." The silver bay mare quickly apologized. "And as for the earlier outburst, I thought you were either my father or grandfather as they are only brave souls I know that come to my door so early." At her last remark, Rune cracked a grin, as to try and ease her own tension and perhaps her guest as well. "Though who are you? Seeing I spoiled introductions. And what daggers do you need worked on?" Word Count: 295 Post: #2 |
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Post by tallshiips on Jan 29, 2017 14:59:48 GMT -6
Cormac
Bloody Flank Raider He grudgingly accepted her offer to enter her shack, dipping his head in thanks as he wandered past her into her house. As poor as her first impressions had been, her workspace looked busy and that could only say good things about the quality of her products. His ears flicked back as he heard the door close behind him, before Rune emerged from the shadows behind him and hastily began to clear a space on her desk for this new project.
"I apologise for disturbing you, then, if that's the case," As hard as he tried, he could not keep the slight note of disapproval from entering his voice at the thought of an apprentice raider taking a dislike to the early mornings. But he was not there to judge her merits as a fighter, but as a smith, so he reluctantly pushed his misgivings aside. "Cormac," he started bluntly, "Ansgar's brother." He hated having to explain himself to the mare by association with Ansgar, even though he'd already established that she wasn't the most perceptive of horses.
Pulling the three daggers from their sheaths with the soft red glow of his telekinesis, he laid them out on the desk for her to see, the opals in their hilts glowing softly in the shaft of sunlight that illuminated the desk. The blades were worn and blunted by frequent use, and the hilts, though mainly decorative, were beginning to fray and unravel. Although he could sharpen them easily enough himself, the metal was beginning to thin with a lifetime of blunting and sharpening, and one of the three blades had a jagged edge where the tip had snapped clean off in the body of a target practice mannequin.
"They need the blades replacing, and the hilts need to be cleaned and restrung with leather. I trust you can do this?" He saw no reason to beat around the bush, and made no great effort to hide the displeasure from his voice. "I'm here on my brother's recommendation," he reminded her as gently as he could manage.
"How long do you need?"
350 words || post 3
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