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Avvercus

Sand, Iron, and Honey

32 posts in this topic

The howling wind was as blistering as it was loud even as the mighty sandstorm was dying. For more than two hours now the visibility was almost zero and the use of a face-wrap was necessary to keep the roaring sand from pelting ones eyes and face. The winds gently faded and the airborne grains finally settled, opening up the distant horizon sitting atop rolling dunes for all to see. A lone man sat on the padded driver's bench of his willand, the word for the large mobile homes the Gallias people spent their lives in. They were powered by a simple crystal enchantment engine. While the crystals were extremely common in his home world, the Valucre foreigner was having a difficult time coming across them here, and he would be completely out in two months time if he didn't find more. Luckily, he'd heard they were plentiful in Draco South and was headed to Horizon City to earn enough funds for the trip. But first, he was going to stop in the local Oasis to stock up on water.

Cresting the dune he was currently climbing, Kal'to Kilnseeker put on a concerned face beneath the white swath of cloth covering everything but his eyes. At the bottom of the hill was a figure sprawled face first on the desert floor. Kal hastened his home's speed by pressing forward on the throttle lever sticking up from the floor, and guided the willand so it went around the side of the helpless individual laying there. He pulled on a second lever that deployed tiny magic circles on the willands axels and a large one at its bow that absorbed the vehicles kinetic energy, quickly slowing it to a stop and returning that inertial energy back to the crystals. The man hopped down six feet to the ground, absorbing his impact in the soft sand, and ran around to check on the wayward soul.

At first, Kal thought it was human. But closer inspection as he picked the person up made him rethink that evaluation. While checking to make sure they were still breathing, he saw jet black skin, dark in a way no normal flesh could replicate. Picking them up, Kal found them to be incredibly light despite being covered in armor. As Kal quickly rushed his unconscious patient inside, he assumed she was a woman. Her face was elegant, and the flowing ebony hair tied behind her head was healthy and taken care of like a woman's. He cradled her in his thick arms as he pulled the door to his home down that doubled as a set of of stairs.

The inside was much cooler than the desert air, the walls lined with a persistent fire and ice enchantment that kept it at a constant temperature. Kal Brought the woman to his room, which was rather small but large enough to fit a bed and some personal belongings. Carefully he laid her on his sheets and gently pried the spear she clutched from her fingers. The skin was unexpectedly soft, causing Kal to blush at the thought mixed with the feeling. Setting the spear on the floor by the bed, he began removing her armor. It took him little time to accomplish this, despite the strange mechanisms by which it was bound to her. He averted his eyes at first, seeing she wore no padding or small clothes beneath the armor, but noticed from the corner of his eye that she didn't have any private areas exposed. Thinking she had on a skin tight bodysuit of some kind, Kal checked for a seam but could find nothing. It became apparent this truly was her skin, and his face turned a shade of crimson as he pulled it away from her collarbone where he had been inspecting.

The young blacksmith propped the unknown girl up by the shoulders, and attempted to get some water in her with one of his spare waterskins. Greedily, her unconscious mouth accepted the liquid and she gulped it up quickly. While she didn't seem to be exhibiting any signs of heat cramps, Kal soaked a rag and laid it across her forehead anyway. Satisfied she was stable, he left her and began driving again. In this moment, he prayed and gave thanks to his god Yasai, for already he was met with adventure and random encounters. Who was this women? What was she? Excitement glimmered in Kal's skyblue eyes as he made for Oasis. It shouldn't be two more days until their arrival. Hopefully the girl awoke by then, or there was definitely something seriously wrong with her health. 

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Chrysillia's luck was running out, and it didn't seem to be getting any better. The heat beating down on her was intense, more intense than anything she could recall experiencing in her lifetime, which, admittedly, didn't say much. The lone insectoid trudged up a sand dune slowly, doing her utmost to keep her eyes focused upon the tumbling gold sands before her. Her armor shifted nearly silently with each step, and the rusted blade resting against her back felt monumentally heavier now, as if both spear and armor conspired against their bearer. Still, she neared the top of the hill despite them, looking forward to whatever lay just beyond the dune.

In retrospect, she still couldn't see how she'd gotten so lost. She'd started quite strong, filing past the small colony she'd wound up in after escaping from her latest foes, the dreaded pie-rats. She'd escaped unscathed, thankfully, but not without great loss. For one thing, her former partner, her living weapon 'Zander' had ceased to be. She didn't know why, nor did she know how, but his voice faded entirely. Worse still, the blade, that she'd sworn herself to via blood pact had apparently lost it's strength. Not once in their battles had she felt her enemies' blood surge through her, as the weapon had promised. Perhaps she was immune to such a contract, perhaps the weapon never had any strength to begin with. Either way, she'd deposited the Sanguine Edge in the middle of the sea to rust. Should she actually be attached to the thing, she could have come back for it at any time. Instead, she'd looked for her trusted weapon, her long bladed spear, finely crafted from an unknown alloy and bestowed upon her before disembarking on her quest. It was nowhere to be found. Brokenhearted, but still willing to go on, Chrysillia scooped up the nearest polearm; a rusted harpoon, for impaling fish and the like. It was far from elegant, a beastly, weighted object that lacked much of her former weapons' grace, and she abhorred it. No hero, in all her shining armor and valiant heart, should have to suffer with such a tedious replacement.

Needless to say, she made her way to the nearest colony, hoping to find a replacement. It hadn't been hard finding the man who would assist her; she's simply showed the spear to anyone who would cross her, and politely explain that she needed a new one. The results were positive, to say the least, and she'd found the man 'Smith' in a manner of hours. However, he had been less than cooperative. Her description of her beloved stinger was not enough for the craftsman, and even when his finest efforts had failed to procure something she could be satisfied with, he'd grown tired of her.

"Listen, lady, I don't care how important your spear was! Without blueprints, or a reference, or something, you aren't getting shit out of me!"

Chrysillia blinked. She didn't want shit from him, she merely wanted her spear. 

"But Smith, is it not your job as craftsman to provide heroes like myself with the means to dispatch evil?" She was desperate to get her blade back, so that she could resume her noble crusade.

Smith rolled his eyes. The Hero noted he was quite good at that. He must have been proud of it, too; he'd been practicing the entire time she'd been talking with him.

"Listen, sweetheart, if you really want a full-length spear with a full metal shaft and a tempered sword's blade, maybe you should just wander back to the desert and root around for one." 

And so she had set out, in earnest. In retrospect, she was astonished that she hadn't considered this angle previously. She was born of the desert, it only made sense that some other, forgotten colony had existed there before she arrived. Chrysillia stepped through the soft, golden sands with earnest, looking forward to the journey. She'd find the colony of this world, make their acquaintance and explain her quest. Perhaps they would have a spear for her as well. The thought tickled her, and the mere image of her glorious stinger inspired her to press on.

However, this was not her homeworld. The sun here was oh so hot, and the sand baked her feet within her armor. It took little time for her to grow uncomfortable and heavy, her gait grinding to the slow, deliberate march that took her over the dune now. Where she was from, Chrysillia recalled that the sands were rarely so warm; they were comfortably, at the very least. She couldn't understand the shift in temperature; perhaps the sun was the truest evil, all along. She squinted in the heat, up at the flaming ball. 

Stupid evil sun. It was totally destroyed the moment she got her spear.

The top of the dune was followed by a grand sight; she was presented with the sight of...sand. Sand, sand and more sand. She shook her head, confused. Certainly she must have been mistaken. How had she not come across the colony by now? Surely this was the prime place to put it, right? She must have been so tired, so exhausted from all this walking that she'd misplaced it in her mind. Was it even real? Was she lied to? The hero sunk to her knees, unsure of what else to do. The heat stung her legs, so she helped spread out the hurt by laying, facedown in the sand. She was so very tired, and so very sick of being lost. With a sigh, she drifted off to sleep.

---

Chrysillia stirred in her sleep, her breathing hitching shortly after something cool and wet trickled down her throat. It wasn't much, but it was certainly something. In her head, murky visions began to swim about. Yet, they were still too far away. She thrashed about in her dreams, doing her utmost to banish the inky mist around her. The dark liquid bubbled and swirled at her touch, cooling her still hot flesh as she fought her way towards her unseen visions. It was slow going, but they resurfaced, and the Hero finally caught a glimpse of those flickering memories.

She saw her home, the broad desert of an unknown world. The sands were gold, and fine, interrupted only by the occasional jut of sandstone from the earth. She smiled, and unfurled in the sands, basking in the pleasant sun. At least, at home, things made sense. The sun was the sun, and not an evil entity bent on draining her of water. Here, the sun almost felt static, like part of a backdrop. Of course, it was only a dream, yet she felt certain that she'd never felt the harshness of that son beating down on her, in this form, or the last. One thing was undeniable, however, and that was that she was still very thirsty, and there was naught to drink in this dream. She looked around, and, after getting her bearings, kicked away from the dream, back into the murky darkness.

---

The Hero surfaced with a pant, sitting up quickly, her body breaking into chills. She took a deep breath, then another as her heart rate normalized, then she looked around. Her surroundings were cooler, and dimly lit, a welcome reprieve from the harsh desert. Curiously enough, it also appeared to be moving. For a minute, she feared that she was on a boat once more, captured again by sinister pirates. Yet she trusted that couldn't be the case; the sound of water, not to mention birds, could not be heard. Slowly, she crept from her resting place, flinching as her bare feet touched the ground. It was cold, where were her greaves? She took a look around her, looking for some trace of her gear. The small room was cozy and inviting, but too small to store her armor in. Someone must have moved it. She rose from her bed and exited the room, peeking her head out the door. 

"Hello?" She called, scanning the walls. While she was grateful for the save, she really needed to keep moving. Her spear awaited her!

Edited by Jotnotes
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The hours rolled by, and the sun refused to relent. Kal'to had spent his life by a forge, and so the heat didn't bother him. However, the unchanging landscape began to wear on his focus. He could pound steel for hours on end, but at lease he had a sense of progress. With the unending knolls of yellow-white that stretched on and on, he felt no such comfort. Only the magic compass built into his driving wheel kept the blacksmith from losing faith he was going in the right direction, rather than simply riding in circles. He was still excited to find out more about his guest, but he had long exhausted the amusement that could be drawn musing on her origins with what little information he had. Thinking it was about time to check on her again, he gently brought the Willand to a stop.

Kal lowered his face wrap as he walked back inside and almost immediately heard a faint voice say "hello?". She's awake! he thought in excitement, and put on a smile as he walked his way to his room. Kal'to's boots were loud on the floor as he approached, giving his guest plenty of warning he was coming. Rounding the corner, he saw her, looking about curiously. "Hel-" Kal stopped and blushed, seeing she was standing there stark naked still, not even attempting to cover herself up. Shit...I forgot to leave her something to wear!. "H-hold on a minute!" he stuttered, looking away from the girl as his cheeks turned pink. He entered another room down the hall and emerged with a long white undershirt meant to be paired with a tunic. He held the shirt out to her while looking away. "Please put this on for now. I'll get you more to wear soon" he requested.

Kal realized there was a torrent of things that needed to be said and asked, and that he needed to quickly make it clear why she was naked without armor or her spear in his bedroom. "I found you unconscious in the sands, so I brought you along with me. You were over heating, so I r-removed your armor to cool you down and get some water in you. S-sorry for doing that without permission, but you weren't awake...ah! As for your armor, I've got it in my forge. If you don't mind, i'll repair it for you, free of charge. Um...if you are still thirsty, let me know." the young blacksmith quickly tried to explain, but was a bit flustered and under pressure. He didn't want to seem like he was trying to take advantage of her. He hadn't realized until just now how he could be seen as a criminal in this situation.

"Also, my name is Kal'to Kilnseeker. You can call me Kal, if you'd like" he added, giving her a smile before remembering he shouldn't be looking yet. I...am definitely terrible with women. Not good....not good at all

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Chrysillia found her surroundings to be quite alien. She'd never been in such environs before, both in her previous life and the current one. All the same, she found them quite cozy. The walls were sturdy, and decorated with all sorts of little bits and details that she failed to identify, yet they served to give the room an air of comfort. It was quite similar to seeing a bird's nest, filled with random bits designed to make the nest look fancier through clutter. She stepped around carefully, examining everything as she walked around. The ceilings were quite low, and it was somewhat hard to stand fully erect, so she stooped a bit, bent at the knees and back, to move around easily. She found the little pieces and baubles fascinating, as if she were observing the interior of someone's mind. That someone had yet to present themselves, however.

One noticable thing that she could not find, however, both here and in the halls, was her armor. It seemed to have vanished, leaving her without any gear to speak of. She frowned. Without a spear, she was defenseless, and without her armor, even a decent spear would be of no use to her. She was far from indestructible, and she decided that finding her armor would be the best course of action. She turned around to head back into the room, only halt at the sound of boots rushing down the hall.

36 minutes ago, Avvercus said:

Kal lowered his face wrap as he walked back inside and almost immediately heard a faint voice say "hello?". She's awake! he thought in excitement, and put on a smile as he walked his way to his room. Kal'to's boots were loud on the floor as he approached, giving his guest plenty of warning he was coming. Rounding the corner, he saw her, looking about curiously. "Hel-" Kal stopped and blushed, seeing she was standing there stark naked still, not even attempting to cover herself up. Shit...I forgot to leave her something to wear!. "H-hold on a minute!" he stuttered, looking away from the girl as his cheeks turned pink. He entered another room down the hall and emerged with a long white undershirt meant to be paired with a tunic. He held the shirt out to her while looking away. "Please put this on for now. I'll get you more to wear soon" he requested.

Kal realized there was a torrent of things that needed to be said and asked, and that he needed to quickly make it clear why she was naked without armor or her spear in his bedroom. "I found you unconscious in the sands, so I brought you along with me. You were over heating, so I r-removed your armor to cool you down and get some water in you. S-sorry for doing that without permission, but you weren't awake...ah! As for your armor, I've got it in my forge. If you don't mind, i'll repair it for you, free of charge. Um...if you are still thirsty, let me know." the young blacksmith quickly tried to explain, but was a bit flustered and under pressure. He didn't want to seem like he was trying to take advantage of her. He hadn't realized until just now how he could be seen as a criminal in this situation.

"Also, my name is Kal'to Kilnseeker. You can call me Kal, if you'd like" he added, giving her a smile before remembering he shouldn't be looking yet. I...am definitely terrible with women. Not good....not good at all

Chrysillia accepted the offering with some confusion, feeling the fabric between her hands. It was soft, but light. Hardly armor fitting of a warrior. Nevertheless, she slipped it on as her new host continued speaking. It went on easily, though it was somewhat small for her, coming up to just above her waist, barely covering her arms. She ignored the discomfort as she listened to his prattling. Oddly enough, he told her all that she needed to hear quite quickly. Her armor was safe, then, he'd rescued her from that damned sun, and, perhaps most importantly, he had a forge. She raised an arm halfway in greeting.

"It is good to meet you, Kal, of the Kilnseeker colony. I am Chrysillia, of the..." She racked her brain, only to realize her colony had no name. She shrugged halfheartedly before continuing. "I am the emissary of my people in this land, here to purge evil, wherever it may lurk." She raised her head with pride, arms at her hips. She took great honor from this role, the task she was given was immense in her own regard. Chrysillia took another look at her savior, tilting her head to the side. He looked...somewhat unlike other humanoids she'd encountered so far. Granted, she knew now that the inhabitants of this world obeyed no colonial law of color or size, of course. but he looked out of place. It wasn't unpleasantly so, yet noticeable in her eyes. She disregarded that, however, and chose to move on to more pressing matters. 

"Master Kal'to, I have journeyed these sands tirelessly in search of a new weapon to call my own, to replace my own spear, the great weapon Stinger." She explained, her voice still somewhat regal, proud and strong. "I thank you for your kind assistance, but I must gather my belongings and be on my way. I will not rest until I have achieved my goal. Would you be so kind as to show me to my armor?" 

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When his guest began speaking, Kal looked at her. The shirt was small and tight on her tall frame. She towered above him, now that he saw her standing. It was strange. There were few females he had met of this size, and most were Dragonkin or Orcs. Chrysilla was her name, an odd sounding one to his ears, though that was to be expected as he had absolutely no idea what her race could possibly be. She looked mostly human, but with the strange black skin and completely lacking in any secondary sexual traits. Could she perhaps be a homunculus? He'd met them before, some were androgynous and lacked sexual organs. But most appeared white, with white hair, this woman's opposite. Whatever the case, giving her that shirt had the opposite effect, and she somehow seemed even more indecent than she did stark naked. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Lady Chrysilla. Now um...please wait another moment."

Kal ran back into his storage room. After a minute and some loud banging noises and the shuffling of feet, he emerged with a piece of clothing. A huge robe one of his old neighbors had left behind. It surely would fit her, or at the very least cover her up properly so he could look her in the eye normally. He thrust it into her hands and asked her to wear that as well. "Um, for now, please follow me." Kal'to said absentmindedly as he led her to his 'living room'. She had referred to him as master. Was that customary where she came from, to refer to strangers as such? He had called her Lady Chrysilla in response, as was proper in some high societies. From what she told him, she sounded like...well, a hero. And she sought a new weapon. This could be a great opportunity to serve a genuine hero!

They immediately entered a lounge of sorts. It was an open area with a soft black leather couch, a small table with a few cushioned wooden chairs for eating and playing cards, a kitchen with a mana stove, and a small bar with an assortment of alcohols. Kal'to had never been much of a drinker, but his father insisted. "You're a man now, and a proper man aught to have his own bar. How else do you plan to be a good host?"Kal'to continued past this area through a thick door. On the other side was his personal forge. 

The room was half the size of the previous one, very spacious for a mobile forge. It had a dark steel gray motif to it, a perfect backdrop for the flashes of heat produced by his hammer's strikes. His prized possession dominated the center of the space. A huge Oblivion ore Anvil stood tall and strong. Oblivion ore was one of the most expensive materials on Vulaer, and not because it was rare. No, the price was high because of the difficulty in obtaining it. The ore was the hardest substance on the planet, and had the special property of completely repelling all forms of magic, including ambient mana in the air. Black, rough, and heavy, the stuff was almost exclusively obtained by killing and skinning Oblivion Rhynoids. Huge creatures that are a cross between bear and rhinoceros. They feed on softer ores, and grow oblivion ore as their natural armor. Only the strongest and most skilled of physical monster hunters could hope to bring one down. How he had gotten this anvil was a story for another time.

The walls were lined with meticulously organized and well taken care of tools. Each was hand forged, hardened, and tempered by Kal. A grizzled old chest of holding sat in one corner, a family heirloom said to be passed down through the family since before the time of Elarulia's war with the terrible Overlord. In it was stored all the ore and other materials Kal would need to make most anything from scratch that didn't require something special or unusual. Against another wall sat Kal'to's kiln and bellows. The Kiln was huge, able to fit large pieces, such as Chrysilla's armor, in it with ease. Directly next to it was a quenching vat, full of a special mix of oils and sealed at the moment while the Willand was ready to move. The final wall had a work bench set against it, with magnifying glasses and precision instruments meant for detailing, as well as smaller scale projects. Sitting on the anvil was Kal'to's grandfather's favorite forging hammer. A reliable quality tool that had seen enough equipment pass beneath it's worn surface to arm half the world. Chysilla's armor sat on the work bench, cleaned and free of sand already in preparation to be repaired.

"This is my forge. I am a blacksmith, Lady Chrysilla. If you would trust me, I will arm you to the best of my ability. Even if you refuse, I would implore you to at least stay with me until we get to the Oasis" Kal explained with a bit of passion. He really, really wanted to make a spear for her. The way she had worded herself sounded like a challenge to him. Make a spear that could match this ' great weapon Stinger '. He wasn't in excitement mode just yet, but if she would put him to the challenge...

Edited by Avvercus
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Kal'to's moving colony was very impressive, she noticed as she followed him through its halls.  Right away, they passed through a comfortably sized room, furnished with all matter of familiar interior goods. In fact, with every minute that passed, his home felt less and less alien. She inspected his belongings carefully as she passed. The couch in particular caught her eye. It was shiny and smooth-looking, reminiscient of her own physique. The leather loveseat seemed almost out of place next to those padded chairs, as if it were some unknown cultural element she wasn't aware of. It looked comfy enough, though. She could see herself resting on one, perhaps. Among other things, they also passed a small stove, a table and...a bar. Chrysillia frowned, eyeing the bottles warily. She hadn't suspected that Kal might have been a poisoner, like her former ally had turned out to be. She remained silent, however, and followed him out the door.

"Smith would certainly be ashamed!" She declared, soaking up the sight of his forge with wide, honey-colored eyes. It was certainly something to admire. True to her claim, her host's forge dwarfed that of the humble Smith's with the additional bonus of being mobile. She admired his vast array of tools, taking time to pick up a piece or two. They were sturdy, well worn pieces, signs of a seasoned worker. And there, amidst the forge, was her armor. She nearly bounded over to it in excitement, awestruck by its sheen. It was so finely polished, so well kept, that it almost looked new! However, she did notice the odd scratch and dent in its surface, affirming that it was still hers, and not a well-made fake. Unless those marks were recently made, in which case, Chrysillia would be too impressed with the effort to mind much. 

"My armor looks divine."  She gushed, picking up her breastplate, examining it carefully. 

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"I cleaned it for you. If you don't mind, I also want to make some repairs on it before you put it back on." Kal said with a smile, walking up behind Chrysilla and pointing at the various places where the armor had been damaged. He moved away from the strange women and knelt to reach into the chest in the corner of the room. After a bit of rummaging, and reaching his arm father down into it than should have been possible, he withdrew a roll of parchment and a strange looking pen. Kal'to set both down on the bench next to Chrysilla and gestured towards it. "Can you draw the weapon you want me to make? A description would be useful too. I can definitely make something you'll be happy with" Kal said with some enthusiasm. He was getting fired up at the thought of trying to please this lady with a quality weapon, almost impatiently so.

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Chrysillia studied the parchment with curiosity. She knew what he requested of her; it was simply foreign to her, the thought that one might need to actually depict such an object. After all, a spear may have been meant to be drawn in battle, but never in this sense! 

She picked up the pen curiously. It was roughly the size of a large feather, but with an odd, chisel shaped tip. She rubbed it curiously, but nothing appeared on her blackened skin. Perhaps it was faulty? Regardless, she took the pen and parchment, setting them on the floor carefully. The table was just a small bit too small for it to be comfortable, and the forge was large enough for her to sprawl out on the floor without knocking into the walls or knocking anything down. Chrysillia lay down before her parchment and thought hard about her blade. It was easy to conceptualize, certainly, but in practice, it was much harder to achieve. She pressed the tip of the pen to the parchment and drew a flat line. Followed by another line, and another, until the shape of a tuning fork was drawn on the paper.

Chrysillia was confounded. It was clearly not what the stinger looked like. She picked up the parchment, frowning at it as if it would change the design through sheer unhappiness. It didn't work, and she flipped it over, thinking hard. 

"It's...how do I explain it? It had two prongs, and a shaft like..." She tried drawing it again. Carefully, she did her best to draw the hilt, using the flat of the pen to mark the outline of the shaft. Though it wasn't perfect, it was much better of an outline, and Chrysillia even drew some of the markings off to the side, explaining where they were placed. Lastly, she drew the prongs. Twin, jagged prongs that resembled the jaws of a scarab beetle. Thin, razor sharp and serrated on the inside, the prongs seemed vicious, yet their color and ornate design, much like her armor, gave off an air of elegance, excellence. She set the parchment down, thrilled with her drawing.

"Yes! This is it! This is Stinger!" She shouted in triumph!

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Kal couldn't help but snicker watching the giant of a women plop down on the floor like a child with a coloring book. While she drew, he rummaged through his chest, counting his material and making estimates on how much he would need to properly restock. Of course, none of the money he had brought from Vulaer was accepted here, and so he had needed to start from scratch. The economy here was much more simple than his homeland. Everyone used the same currency, no matter the region. However, he gave up his musings, realizing he had absolutely no grasp on how much materials would cost him in Horizon City, though he figured the cost would likely be cheaper on the port city than somewhere in the middle of the land, where the ores would need to be transported over land.

He went back to watching Chyrsilla and smiled at her simple joy. He picked up the drawing she had made and studied it for a moment before needing to suppress another outburst. The rendering was fairly childish, most definitely drawn by an unpracticed hand, though with much enthusiasm. Still, it would do. The important details there all there, except for one thing. Kal'to set the drawing back down on his work bench and found a large measuring rope, with a knot tied into it every foot. He placed it on the floor next to the prone women and stretched it out to find out her height. Six knots, nearly seven. Kal'to picked it back up, unperturbed as he put the thing back from whence it came. The, it hit him. "Chrysilla! You're really tall!" he exclaimed, pointing out the obvious. After a few awkward seconds, he scratched the back of his head and tried to divert the conversation away from the weird atmosphere he just created. "So...um...do you have any money? Will you be able to pay for this weapon if I make it?"

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Chrysillia's furrowed her brow. She was asked, more than once now, to give something in exchange for services. It was surreal. In her former home, you simply took what you needed. It was there for that reason, of course, there was excess and every drone in the hive had access to what they wanted, when they wanted it. This realm, however, seemed perverse. Some places demanded colossal amounts of money for something simple. Other places offered odd deals on those same items, proffering a surplus of a shoddily crafted item. Yet through all her travels, the Hero had yet to figure out exactly what they wanted from her.

"Money is...an object." She confessed, glancing ruefully at her armor. She felt a twinge of shame realizing that she lacked the material to pay her savior, seeing firsthand the kind of work he could do. Unlike her previous encounters with the rude man Smith, Kal had been nothing but kind to her, even going so far to save her from the heated desert. It was an effort worth rewarding, yet Chrysillia couldn't find the means to give him what he desired.

She sighed, lifting a hand up to brush away a few stands of hair. 

"I'm sorry Kal, but I do not think I deserve your efforts. My resources are lean, and without that blade, my chances of providing you recompense are leaner, indeed. Perhaps it would be best if I just left. I'm sure there's a spear within this desert somewhere, that I may use."

She sounded unconvinced, and she hated it. In truth, clearing that dune had exposed Chrysillia to one critical error she'd made. This planet, unlike her former one, had no pheromone trails to speak of. Nowhere in that desert had she encountered the markings, nowhere had she seen, nor smelt any sign of hive-life anywhere in what should have been prime space. Her assumptions about finding a replacement weapon there were falsehoods, and nothing but. Yet, she could not afford Kal or his technique, and would be loathe to accept a free service. She'd be unable to repay him, she was certain, and even if she did, dishonor would still mar her name.

Chrysillia made for the door, stepping back into the lounge carefully. The roof here was somewhat taller, and she could stand straight both in the forge and the resting area. She cast a glance back at Kal and added, somewhat formally.

"However, if you would be so inclined, I would happily accept my armor once you are through with it."

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Not surprised, Kal'to tried to give Chrysilla some good news, but she put on a sigh and dreary face before he got the chance. Her dejected expression pulled on his heartstrings, and he had the sudden urge to protect and encourage her. She was taller than he, but less knowledgeable and wise. In a way, he felt he needed to teach her the ways of the world, though he was still learning them himself. He struggled to put a name to this, and settled on her being something like a pet or younger sibling. No, that didn't sound right. One wasn't conscious about their pet or little sister, nor did being near them bring heat to your cheeks or butterflies in your stomach. Kal felt very awkward around Chrysilla, and was glad she had put some space between them by leaving the forge. Being so close to her in the relatively small room was making him feel...strange.

He frowned and put his large, toughened hands on his hips, looking into the eyes she cast over her shoulder. As she began to walk off, he reached out his hand and shouted "wait!", taking a step forward. Somehow, the blacksmith managed to trip on nothing and stumbled forward, falling right on top of the warrior women. Somehow, when they came to rest, Kal had managed to turn her around and had stopped less than an inch from running his face into hers. The sweet scent of honey wafted from her ebony locks, and Kal reeled his face back after staring into her soft eyes for a few seconds. He then realized his hand was on her fest, and his knee between her legs and pressing into her groin. The young man's face turned a bright crimson and he threw himself back, scrambling to the wall and quickly getting to his feet. "I-I-I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to do that, I swear!" he stuttered, quickly trying to stop a misunderstanding from happening.

After a few moments, he regained his composure, and quickly tried to change the subject. "Hmm...Well, I can't say I didn't assume you lacked the means to pay for my services. Despite that, I did do some work on your armor you know. Do you really think I would leave a women defenseless in the middle of a desert with no food, water, or transportation? I will make a deal with you. Work as my assistant and bodyguard until you pay off the costs. How does that sound. I mean...everyone deserves a good weapon at their side." He offered with a smile, spreading his arms open, welcoming her to take up his offer. Besides that, the only thing on his mind at the moment was the talk he was going to need to have with her about what money was. Well, that and the sweet scent of her hair that still lingered in the back of his head. It made a light blush persist on his cheeks. Yeah, he definitely didn't think of her as a pet or a younger sibling.

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1 hour ago, Avvercus said:

As she began to walk off, he reached out his hand and shouted "Wait!", taking a step forward.

Chrysillia turned around in time to watch Kal stumble. Naturally, she stepped forward to catch him, only to reel back as he toppled into her, the duo collapsing on the floor in a heap.

She saw stars for a moment disoriented by the fall, but thankfully unharmed, and when she came to, did her best to free herself. The gentleman had landed on top of her, inches from her face. She wriggled a bit as he eventually pulled away, but couldn't find the means to move as his large, tough hands pinned her chest to the floor, one knee hitched up between her legs. It didn't last, however, and he jumped back in surprise, face turning bright red. Chrysillia made a note of that as she stood up. It wasn't the first time she'd seen a human do that, but she had yet to learn the meaning behind it. Ultimately, however she chose to wave it off, instead turning her attention to him as he babbled out an apology.

1 hour ago, Avvercus said:

I-I-I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to do that, I swear!" he stuttered, quickly trying to stop a misunderstanding from happening.

"Your kind is very intimidated by touch." She noted. "I can respect the need for space, but a mistake is a mistake, yes?" She went on to explain her reasoning after he gave her a puzzled look. "We come from different ways of thinking, and proper etiquette cannot be guaranteed in such a scenario. Don't think of it as an overstepping; think of it as a learning experience." Touch was quite common where she was from. In her previous life, Chrysillia experienced all matter of stimulus through touch alone; her species' sensitive little feelers lined the exposed flesh of their craniums, and everything from the touch of a wall, to a stay windcurrent, to even impact with another drone could be determined that way. Here, however, there was some sort of stigma. Personal space was private, and people did well to keep it. She'd made the error of standing too near other humans before, though it had been them that felt embarrassed, much like Kal here.

1 hour ago, Avvercus said:

After a few moments, he regained his composure, and quickly tried to change the subject. "Hmm...Well, I can't say I didn't assume you lacked the means to pay for my services. Despite that, I did do some work on your armor you know. Do you really think I would leave a women defenseless in the middle of a desert with no food, water, or transportation? I will make a deal with you. Work as my assistant and bodyguard until you pay off the costs. How does that sound. I mean...everyone deserves a good weapon at their side." He offered with a smile, spreading his arms open, welcoming her to take up his offer.

Chrysillia once again furrowed her brow, thinking briefly on the offer. She could see this offer being nothing short of a hassle for her quest. To be bound to this man until her debt was repaid would certainly not aid her in her quest to drive evil from the world, yet it was far from the worst available option. She did have some concerns about just how long he willed her to protect him; perhaps the expense of the spear would be best paid in gold, not blood, after all. Yet, she did owe him a life-debt. Without his interloping, the sands would have been her demise, her carcass bleaching in the sand as a shining reminder that the world's hero had fallen. The Hero sighed, and stepped towards him, dropping to one knee. With her free hand, she reached out and touched his shoulder, and, with a little effort, tried her best to assume a hero's oath. Her mind opened, the faltering lines of her hivemind strained towards his, and for a brief second, they were one and the same.

A brilliantly shining empire of golden sand pillars and impossibly complex tunnels emerged from the desert of Kal's mind. Billions of unseen voiced cried out for justice, all demanding the same thing from the same being. Chrysillia, in all her regalia, drew her blade and plunged it into the sands. In a voice like the droning of a swarm, she muttered an oath to the sands.

"The hive as my witness, my debt will be repaid. My life is to yours as the sun is to the sand."

Chrysillia stood after a minute longer, and regarded her charge beneath lidded eyes. The heat of being outside for so long was beginning to return to her, and sleep was winning the battle for her attention.

"It is done," She said simply. "Forge me my weapon, Kal. I shall use it in your name, until we part ways."

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Despite the reassurances that she wasn't angry or offended, Kal continued to brace for an angry outburst and for his guest to storm into the desert naked and defenseless. To allow such a thing was the ultimate blow to the pride of a Gallias. It meant he had failed as a host and tarnished his community's reputation, something not taken lightly by his fellow nomads. He relaxed and nodded his head when told to think of it as a learning experience. Her words spurred the blacksmith to think of her in a more mature light. She may be naive, but she had a good head on her shoulders and an understanding heart. What Kal'to didn't realize is he was described in much the same way by many people.

She did some obvious thinking before kneeling before Kal. Despite this, her eye level still nearly came up to his chest. She weighed little, but the women still made Kal'to feel dwarfed. Moments after the strange girl's hand came to rest on the blacksmith's shoulder, he felt himself slip. His mind touched something foreign, and he fought it for the briefest of seconds before realizing it was Chrysilla. Strangely, he felt it was ok and stopped struggling. They merged, joining into one and Kal'to was given access to the humanoids inner sanctum.

The comfort of being one amongst countless millions, each working for one another. None were alone, none struggled without a brother or sister at their side. And somewhere, lurked the magnificent one that joined them all together. It was much like Kal'to's own life back on Vulaer, and he grew accustomed to these new sensations quickly. Chrysilla's golden armor was even more grossly incandescent than the sands upon which they held this rite. The celebrant truly looked like a hero in Kal's eyes at that moment. Powerful, glorious, mature, determined. Had this oath not been directed towards him, Kal would have genuflected on instinct. Instead, he met her eyes as the blade plunged in the sand, determined to match her resolve.

The vision faded and Kal fell to one knee breathing heavily. What had just transpired was intense. He took a deep breath and steadied his lungs before standing back up. He put his hand on her shoulder and let his gaze pierce hers with a set brow. "Lord Yasai as my witness, I shall make you a weapon befitting a hero." He swore with a heavy tone. He lingered on his charge a moment longer before leaving for his forge with excitement boiling beneath the skin.

A white cloth was wrapped around his head, covering his hair to keep it from contaminating his work and keeping the sweat from his eyes. Crossing the room, Kal approached a small oriental style shrine that sat on a shelf so that it could observe all that happened within the room. Reaching inside, Kal grasped the handle of an old 5lbs hammer. This too had belonged to his grandfather, and his grandfather before him. It was ornate, a religious thing that was still functional. It was said Lord Yasai favored a certain 5lbs hammer and so all who forged beneath his banner kept one to pay homage to their deity. Kal'to went to his chest and reached inside, grasping two large bars of metal and bringing them to his Oblivion anvil. He grasped a pair of tongs hanging off the side of the anvil and used them to grip the metal bars while raising the hammer over his shoulder.

"Lord Yasai, father of weapons, hear my prayer. I stand humble before you, that you might impart even a drop of the ocean that is your wisdom into my spirit. Let me learn from this experience, let my skill and knowledge lengthen and bring me closer to standing amongst the legendary craftsmen of ages past. I ask that you bless my hammer, my arm, my eyes, and the material which I work, that I might create something worthy of the hero that is to wield it. In your name, I forge." Kal'to prayed in a soft voice that was almost solemn. The hammer fell and a sweet bell-like tone rang around the room. The hammer and metals glowed with a fire-like ambiance; Yasai's response. He left the hammer atop the material with the handle sticking in the air before bringing his hands together and bowing towards the shrine at a ninety-degree angle. The hammer was set aside on a tray Kal rolled over, one that held the other tools he would need for this process.

 Kal'to's heartbeat soared and a grin split his face in two. It was time to shape metal and create some art! The forge was lit and the bar of Kal's custom made titanium alloy, as well as the high carbon steel, were set within. Kal worked the bellows, pumping them with one foot while concentrating. He could feel the air within. He never knew how he did it, but he caused the air to compress beneath the metal with his natural wind affinity, swirling beneath the materials and quickly and evenly heating them to forging temperature. Within 10 minutes of this, the process was down. Kal opened the door and felt the swelter as he removed the glowering bar of near molten alloy from the kiln. He grasped his Grandfather's forging hammer and struck the first blow. Heat, sparks, vibrations, it all showered Kal in a burst of sensations as he began to draw the titanium alloy bar out, pounding one side flat before flipping it and pounding the other until he had a long narrow bar 7 knots long.

Kal pounded the edges in, slowly but carefully turning the bar into a perfectly round pole of lava colored metal. He set the forging hammer down and grabbed a wedge hammer, using it to cut off the last knot of the bar before returning it to the kiln and retrieve the bar of steel. A clear image was in his mind now of what Chrysilla's weapon should look like. Her heart had shared it perfectly. He split the remaining metal in half and quickly lengthened each out into symmetrical bars, doing the same with the steel so that he know had 4 bars of roughly foot long metal, two of titanium alloy and two of carbon steel. He set them apart in pairs before folding them in on one another countless times, brushing the slag of impurities that formed on the surface during the process onto the floor before gently curve and cutting them. What Kal'to ended up with was two blades that mimicked that of a stag beetle's horns. They were set back into the forge to heat back up while he set up another tray to hold one end of the pole when it was next set at the anvil to be worked.

 

The materials, softened back to forging temperatures, were ready to be merged. Kal formed the tip of the handle, cutting a deep ridge into the middle before fitting the blades into it. He pounded it all together until the pieces were fused. While the metal cooled and hardened, Kal went about readying some of the details for the weapon. He measured out lengths of black leather strips and cut them, as well as setting out an epoxy. Detailing tools were set out as well. In time, the half forged bident spear was cooled and hardened to the point Kal could touch it with his bare hands. He picked it up, tested it, and frowned. The weight wasn't quite right. Back to kiln!

Kal enlarged the pommel slightly, redistributed the weight, and tested the balanced. Satisfied, Kal reheated it once more. Immediately, he brought the spear to his quenching vat and submerged the entire thing at once. The mixture hissed and steamed, churning slightly before settling down. Kal waited 10 seconds after the surface stilled and removed his work before dumping it into a second vat that had nothing but water in it. He shook the spear gently, cleaning off the quenching oils and pulled it out.

Kal sat with the bident and hand sharpened the blades, as well as polishing them and the entire handle. He hummed a song his father was fond of while he did so, thrilled to be working on this piece. He could feel it. This would turn out to be the finest thing he had ever created. Once the blades were sharp and the metal gleaming polished, he filled yet another vat with dyes and mixed it properly before taking the spear to his bench. There he etched something near the bladed end and applied a black dye to the etching, covering it carefully with tape before taking the weapon to the dye vat and submerging it.


Kal left it then and went to check on Chrysilla and get a snack. He had been in the forge for a while and a short break would be fine while he waited. The hero-to-be sat on his couch, snoozing with her legs slightly spread apart, completely defenseless. Her face was gentle and absolutely adorable while she slept, and he felt his heart flutter just a little at the sight. Carefully he lifted her, cradling the taller being in his powerful arms. her hair draped over his shoulder as her face came to rest on his shoulder, and he suddenly felt her slender arms snake around him in a hug. The unconscious girl smiled as she snuggled into his hold, and Kal'to could do nothing but stare at her with a blush on his face. Cute. So very cute. He brought her to the guest bedroom and gently tucked her in. A hero, eh? Well, she had the potential. That much at least was true.

After eating some dried meat for a quick snack and getting a glass of water, Kal'to went back to it. The spear was removed from the vat, the tape was removed from it, and the whole thing cleaned off in water once again. The metal was now a golden bronze color, just like her armor. Finally, Kal wrapped the handle in black leather strips which he fixed to the metal with the epoxy. A few final touch ups with a soft pad it was done. The Bident spear was taller than Kal'to, but was exactly Chrysilla's height. He felt a sudden grogginess overtake him, but shrugged it off. He was far too happy to sleep right now. He had to show the hero her new spear.

Chrysilla was already there when he returned to the living room. An understanding somehow passed between them wordlessly, and Chrysilla took a knee, bowing her head. Kal'to approached her an held the spear horizontally above her head. "Chrysilla the hero, in accordance with our contract, I have forged Sting, a weapon worthy of a hero. Take it, and by your hand, prove to me you are worthy of it."

Kal'to's words were heavy, ceremonial, but optimistic. She would prove herself! Where this unending confidence in the girl came from he knew not, but he was convinced she wouldn't disappoint. The bident was lowered into her waiting hands, and Kal'to took a step back as she rose to inspect it. Eteched near the tip, it had his name. On the other side, it said:

Sting
Of  Chrysilla
The Hero

The jaws of the bident had a few ripples where the differences in the metals that made them up contrasted and showed through the dye. They were durable, stiff, and would hold that edge indefinitely if take care of properly. The handle had been made of a light and flexible alloy, and the entire thing was perfectly balanced to Chrysilla's preference. Truly, a weapon made just for her.

"Does my work satisfy you?"

Edited by Avvercus
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On 12/4/2016 at 8:59 PM, Avvercus said:

The vision faded and Kal fell to one knee breathing heavily. What had just transpired was intense. He took a deep breath and steadied his lungs before standing back up. He put his hand on her shoulder and let his gaze pierce hers with a set brow. "Lord Yasai as my witness, I shall make you a weapon befitting a hero." He swore with a heavy tone. He lingered on his charge a moment longer before leaving for his forge with excitement boiling beneath the skin.

Though she was tired, painfully so, she shrugged it off for the thinnest of moments. She couldn't help but be enthusiastic; it was plain as day that Kal knew what he was doing. The dogged determination in his stare, the way that he'd accepted her oath with solemn dignity, even the way she noticed the hairs on his neck stand on end were all telltale signs that her newfound charge was head over heels at the prospect of building her a blade worth wielding. The effect was passed along to her, through her fragile hive-mind links. They were united, now, one and the same, and it was, as always, simultaneously invasive and intimate for the both of them. She didn't do it often, but the experience was worth the while. That brief moment of wonder as he joined the collective was forever engraved into her mind, for at that moment, he was able to see the way she could. He was the closest person on this planet that she had.

She walked out of the room, and only then realized that the pain had returned; a crippling cramp in her abdomen that forced her to double over. She winced, but refused to call out for aid. Instead, she gripped the edge of the bar and used it as a support, hobbling carefully across the room. Such a debilitating pain was unknown to her. What was it? Why did she feel so crippled? She was alright, she hadn't exerted herself and she'd just been asleep. The only thing she hadn't attended to in a while was eating, and being a part of the hivemind meant that she didn't have to eat so often.

Her stomach growled its disapproval, and she sighed. The greatest flaw in this body had to be its almost human limits. Were she still a drone, she suspected she'd face much less obstacles. With that thought, she set on a quest for food, which wasn't too hard to find. Kal'to's kitchen was small, and mercifully easy to navigate. She stooped a bit, peering into his cupboards curiously. Small tins and bags filled some of the cupboards, smelling of fresh, well-kept spices. She pulled out a bag, and opened it up, taking a curious sniff. It was quite spicy-smelling, and she put it back quickly. Certainly not the sickly sweet smell of the Queen's Pheromones, she thought with a frown. She pulled another bag, and took a sniff, then another, and another.

The tins were quite interesting, of course. Quite a few held naught but air, and the few that did were of varying sizes and shapes. She took a larger tin, and gave it a quick shake before opening it. Inside were curious rolls of some sweet-spicy ingredient. She experimentally snapped a piece off, sampling it with curiosity. Almost immediately, she took it back out, making a face. Yuck. The stick was far too spicy to be tasty, and although the spiciness was somewhat offset by the odd sweetness that permeated it, it was simply too distasteful to eat alone. She put the spice-sticks back, and picked up another tin. This one was more flat than the other, but with a much larger diameter as well. She pried the top off with ease and glanced in. Within, small, multi-shaped treats sat in neat little paper liners. Some were glazed with some sort of red topping, others with large pieces of what appeared to be sugar. Others still were smooth and plain, like miniature sand dunes. She reached in, and carefully retrieved one. It was circular, but had an odd ripple shape to it. Moreover, the center of the cookie was replaced with a shallow divet, within which was a dried red jam of sorts. She took a delicate nibble.

Her eyes widened with delight, and she quickly gobbled down the rest of the biscuit, chewing it quickly. She'd never eaten something so good! Chrysilla reached for another, and another, finding each new biscuit to be a new and rare treat. They were eaten through quickly, and eventually she set the tin down, noting the mess she'd left behind. Well, she was no longer cramped, and her stomach felt nice and full. Moreover, she felt cozy and happy, excited at the prospect of getting a new, and potentially greater spear. She put all of the papers back into the tin, and put it back where she found it. That taken care of, she roamed across the lounge area, back to an area of interest; the couch.

She still couldn't understand what she was looking at, really. It was a seat, of course, but the shiny black surface looked far from comfortable. It seemed like, at least to her, that it was definitely not made for sitting. It had to serve some other purpose, even if that purpose was just to look pretty. Regardless, she sat upon it, curious. Well, it seemed that she was right; the surface was far from comfortable, and even looked somewhat grotesque with her on it. It was, however, a well-cushioned seat. She sat straight upon it, glancing around her surroundings curiously. She hadn't considered it, but it promised to be a long wait; the Hero needed to distract herself. With that in mind, she quickly crossed her legs, assuming a lotus position as she endeavored to meditate. It had been a very long time since she'd last had a chance to reflect upon her encounters and trials, and the free time she had now seemed like the perfect opportunity. She took a deep breath, then another deep breath, thinking back to her actions from the past few days. Yes, just breathing softly, reflecting idly while on a full stomach, in a comfy robe. She was alert as ever, not sleepy in the slightest. Not...at...

On 12/4/2016 at 8:59 PM, Avvercus said:

Kal left it then and went to check on Chrysilla and get a snack. He had been in the forge for a while and a short break would be fine while he waited. The hero-to-be sat on his couch, snoozing with her legs slightly spread apart, completely defenseless. Her face was gentle and absolutely adorable while she slept, and he felt his heart flutter just a little at the sight. Carefully he lifted her, cradling the taller being in his powerful arms. her hair draped over his shoulder as her face came to rest on his shoulder, and he suddenly felt her slender arms snake around him in a hug. The unconscious girl smiled as she snuggled into his hold, and Kal'to could do nothing but stare at her with a blush on his face. Cute. So very cute. He brought her to the guest bedroom and gently tucked her in. A hero, eh? Well, she had the potential. That much at least was true.

Chrysilla's dreams were easygoing and inviting. She'd dreamt that another her, far taller and stronger, had saved her and the other drones from destruction. In fact, the Hero had saved her, personally, and flew off with her in tow. She smiled as her savior pulled her from danger, holding her aloft in its arms, and she wrapped her own arms around its neck, cuddling into it for safety. She was so glad, so estatic, that something stronger than her had come to her rescue! It was a dream come true, a great time for her people. It was--

A dream. 

Chrysilla woke gently, and slowly rose from the lull of sleep, glancing around blearily. How had she gotten into the bed? She wasn't quite sure, but it was intriguing. Had the Hero brought her here? No, no, that was crazy. She was the Hero, after all. She couldn't bring herself here, if she was her! Yet, it could easily have been a product of her hivemind. How queer, that the thought of herself as a hero still felt alien from the perspective of another drone. Was her quest really so outlandish, that even she found it odd? Perhaps, but as she looked at her body, wrapped in the cozy robe Kal had given her, she only felt determination. She *was* a hero, sent on a most holiest of missions to face evil head-on, with her trusted spear!

Her spear! Chrysilla leapt from the bed in excitement. She'd completely forgotten about Kal, and his forge. Had he finished the blade for her already? She had to check. She exited the room swiftly, and embarked down the hall. With each step, she could swear she'd heard a hammer ring. With each swishing of her legs, a vat hissed and leather hummed as it glided against metal. With each step, her heartbeat quickened, and it wasn't alone. She could feel Kal's heartbeat, as though he were pressed against her even then. The heart of that merciful, masterful man with the forge, working tirelessly to build her a blade worth wielding.

On 12/4/2016 at 8:59 PM, Avvercus said:

Chrysilla was already there when he returned to the living room. An understanding somehow passed between them wordlessly, and Chrysilla took a knee, bowing her head. Kal'to approached her an held the spear horizontally above her head. "Chrysilla the hero, in accordance with our contract, I have forged Sting, a weapon worthy of a hero. Take it, and by your hand, prove to me you are worthy of it."

Kal'to's words were heavy, ceremonial, but optimistic. She would prove herself! Where this unending confidence in the girl came from he knew not, but he was convinced she wouldn't disappoint. The bident was lowered into her waiting hands, and Kal'to took a step back as she rose to inspect it. Eteched near the tip, it had his name. On the other side, it said:

Wordlessly, she fell into position, as if expecting to be knighted for the first time. She couldn't help it; it felt right, especially upon seeing him wield the spear. That spear was beyond what she wanted. It was without flaws, without imperfection. It was the true weapon of a hero, and with steady hands she took it, although just beneath the skin she trembled with anticipation. She lowered the blade slowly, looking it over. The masterwork was unlike her other spear, naturally, but that was far from a bad thing. From tip to butt, it was a brilliant bronze, that glinted dangerously in the lighting. She let her eyes travel down its length, admiring the way the twin tips were accentuated by the violent, almost barbaric-looking barbs that touched the blades here and there as it neared the shaft of the spear. From there, it was an exquisite piece of craftsmanship, with the blackened leather grips standing out against the ornate, carefully cleaned and polished metal. However, she could ignore all of that, because something glinted off the blades. She peered closely.

On 12/4/2016 at 8:59 PM, Avvercus said:

Sting
Of  Chrysilla
The Hero

Well, it was awfully nice of him to put some interesting engravings on the blade. She had no idea what they said, of course. Her time spent here hadn't been enough to discern the native language, but she was determined to learn what it said, eventually.

She took a minute to examine the craftsmanship, tuning it over in her hands as she slowly rose to her feet.

On 12/4/2016 at 8:59 PM, Avvercus said:

The jaws of the bident had a few ripples where the differences in the metals that made them up contrasted and showed through the dye. They were durable, stiff, and would hold that edge indefinitely if take care of properly. The handle had been made of a light and flexible alloy, and the entire thing was perfectly balanced to Chrysilla's preference. Truly, a weapon made just for her.

"Does my work satisfy you?"

The weight was good. It was balanced, and it had a little heft to it, which made it excellent for thrusting. Moreover, she could easily move it around, and the responses came naturally to her. She took a step to the side, away from her charge, and let the blade drop to her side. Her grip on the center of the shaft was firm, and as the spear fell to her side, she twisted her wrist ever so slightly, causing the spear to flash dangerously, at the ready. She narrowed her eyes, took a step forward, bring the blade upward. With a flick of her wrist, she let the spear go, following through with the next step, kicking up as the spear sailed out of her reach. Just before it flew away from her, however, she grabbed it by the end, and surged forward. Due to her light weight, she was far from unmovable, and the momentum behind the jab was enough to force her forward, almost as if she were dashing forward. She stuck the landing, and thrust forward on the landing, twisting her wrist yet again. The result, the momentum carrying the spear forward was given another jolt of speed, and the spear sang for but a moment as it pierced the air in front of her. Her free hand rested loosly at her side, her entire body taut at the action. She stared forward, imagining the blow that would have pierced armor and bone alike, striking at the impure heart of her foe. Then, she relaxed, letting the spear fall to her side.

"It's perfect." She told Kal, giving him a gentle bow. Her cheeks were flushed with excitement, and she had trouble hiding a broad smile as she rose again. "Thank you, Kal. With this, I will be able to prove to you just why the Hive chose me as their Hero!"

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Kal gave an exhausted grin watching his new...what would be a good word for their contract? Bodyguard didn't seem quite right. Servant perhaps? Something seemed off about that, but it was as close as he could get. Watching his new servant test her weapon was immensely satisfying, as was the look on her face. He would never grow tire of that look from the people that received his wares. But then, she gave him the most wonderous smile he had ever beheld. Again, his heart skipped a beat seeing it, and an unexplainable warmth blossomed in his chest. Kal reached out to the crouched warrior and patted her head. "I'm so very glad you like it."

Kal quickly cooked them dinner. A simple soup with sandwiches; a meal able to be made quickly. Kal was very tired and could feel his lids straining to close on him as he struggled in vain, nodding off a few times during the meal. He failed to notice Chrysilla wasn't quite able to finish her meal, having eaten all of his cookies earlier. Without instructing the girl where she could or should sleep, he made for his bedroom after offering her a good night, stripping down to his underwear and slipping beneath the sheets. When morning came, he planned on getting them moving again. The Oasis wasn't far now. With these thoughts, as well as ones of Chrysilla, he drifted off to a silent and tranquil sleep.

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