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Gaheris

BLACKSMITHS - MoonHammer Forge

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Proprietor & Blacksmith - Alma 'MoonHammer' Luminare
Blacksmith Specialty: Alma Luminare is known for: Crafting magically enchanted items with both weight reduction and elemental magic through mastery of smithing.

 

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About MoonHammer Forge:

MoonHammer Forge is open to everyone in need of unique, customisable items and equipment, ranging from: personalised weapons, armour, shields, tunics, riding equipment (saddles etc), furniture and jewellry. Note: personal requests may be granted, just speak with Alma Luminare.
• Depending on the level of item/s requested, Alma Luminare may present the customer with a quest of equal skill, in order to (a) acquire the necessary materials/gemstones/magical artifacts desired for an items creation and (b) test the skills/abilities of the requesting user, to ensure items of certain powers do not fall into the hands of those too weak to wield them.
• Further testing via various means, may also be conducted by Alma Luminare in order to garner a better psychological understanding of a customer, to ensure these items of power do not fall into the wrong hands.

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• To the rear of MoonHammer Forge, is the Training Yard. This area may be used for the various means: Testing pre-requisite by Alma Luminare prior to receiving items of powers. Elemental Magical Combat training in solo/pairs/groups, by any member of the public. General social/drinking hang out spot for any member of the public (Note: Barrels of Ale available to all paying customers).

 

 


WELCOME!  


 

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Michelee flipped her dark brown hair over her shoulder as she stood outside the quaint building that was deceptively plain looking.  Such places always looked plain and simple when there was usually power hidden somewhere inside.  Michelee had travelled enough not to underestimate such places.  She pulled her elbow gloves a little farther up her arms, a habit that she could not break and wasn't even aware of anymore.  Her cerulean eyes twinkled with interest as she stepped over the threshold.  The place was dark compared to the brightness of outside.  Even with her tiger eyes, she needed a moment for them to adjust to the darkened interior.  She looked around at the metal items, smelled the scent of burned copper, sensed the magic in the air.  She walked slowly, carefully deeper into the building.  Her eyes wandered around for a living soul, but none could be seen as of yet.  She sensed someone nearby though, and her senses were on high alert. 

She readjusted the bag over her shoulder.  Not because it was heavy to her, but because she was nervous and didn't know what to expect.  She'd come here for a purpose, looking for a job to sustain her just a little bit longer on her journeys.  She is a healer.  And it was rumored that adventurers come here to take on different quests that could be fraught with danger.  She didn't want a quest herself, needing nothing that anyone could just give her.  She came to give aid for a little bit of money.  If she was not needed, she would leave.... but she needed to see if she was needed first.

She walked through the building to the back of it, hearing noises and the sound of revelry.  She could see that there were spirits served to the public, as they watched competitors fight against each other in a replication of a battle.  She sat in a chair, away from the rest of the crowd and watched.  Soon she was approached by a barmaid, asking her if she would like something to drink.  Water was her response, unable to afford anything else.  She received the cool water in quick order, and sipped it gratefully.  She kept her eye on the crowd, waiting to see if she could be needed.  She planned to stay for just a while, but if there seemed to be no work she would move on.  This was her life, and she was used to this way of life now. 

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Benjamin was walking around looking for adventure when he heard his bow drop off his back. He took off his pack when he realized it was broken. He shoved it in his backpack harshly and almost broke it. He looked up and saw a young teenager that looked about eighteen. He was looked for adventure, so he decided to talk to her. He walked up as soon as she walked off. She looked like she was sneaking, so he sneaked after her. Even though he knew she didn't see him, he felt like he was being watched.

He followed her for a while, and found this battle arena. The crowd was massive and ear piercing. He didn't know if he should be seen. The fighting was entertaining though. Benjamin sat down behind the girl and waited to see if she would react. Benjamin saw that the girl didn't react, so he started watching the fight. He just know started to notice the building they were in. It was way too plain to hold something like this inside. Maybe it was meant to be a secret. Maybe if they see him they will kick him out. After he thought of that he kept his head down.

The fighting was intense. So intense it made him wince every time one person was hit. They were amazing to watch. It made him want to go down there and fight himself. He knew he would get beat, so he decided it would not be a good idea to do it. Maybe some other day. A barmaid walked over and Benjamin ducked behind his seat. Benjamin was afraid she would kick him out. The girl ordered water and the barmaid went off with the order. Benjamin sat back up in his seat. Maybe this girl could give him the adventure he needed. Benjamin sat in his chair and pulled out his broken bow strap. It was snapped in two. Benjamin sat back trying to fiddle with it as much as he could. Benjamin was going to wait until something juicy happened.

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Limping with great effort, utilizing a sheathed sword as a cane, Sétanta edges into the bar, thrusting his legs out, and resting on his cane, before falling into a seat, and makes an exhausted demand for water, and, when it is brought to him, watches the fight, wheezing and downing water between gasps for air.

What can be picked out of his predicament is not that his legs are crippled, but that his ability to breathe correctly, and also his strength, has been robbed. And, to make things worse, he owns two shoulders, but one left arm.

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Apart from a few splints stabbing into her if she moved, her straw bed was perfectly warm and adequate for the drunken little smith to crash on come bedtime, which just so happened to be whenever her tiny body had had its fill of any alcoholic beverage. She began to shuffle and murmur in her sleep, hugging an empty bottle as if it were a teddy bear.. that was until her arms loosened and the bottle rolled off her rotund little tummy and onto the cobbled floor beside her... ***SMASH*** ...the sound of the bottle shattering could have been mistaken for a starting pistol commonly fired at the start of a race, as Alma shot up into a seated position instantly whilst simultaneously blurting out in a loud inaudible noise "Bluehggh". Somewhat startled, Alma semi-consciously looked around and rubbed her eyes with her forearm, then stood up. With a yawn she began to stumble her way out from behind the anvil next to her forge and made her way into the yard, briefly pausing to stop and admire with a mild smirk and a scratch of her bum, the continued popularity of her newly opened establishment with the ever growing crowd of people fighting, getting drunk and choosing to simply hang out here.

Her tiny frame waddled from side to side as still relatively drunk, she floated up onto a table top before picking up another customers tankard and taking a swig. She immediately spat the substance out swiftly followed by her gag reflex, for whatever the substance was in the cup, it was one hundred percent definitely not drinkable. Alma poured away the rest of the liquid and floated gracefully back down to the floor and over to the nearest barrel of ale, filling her newly acquired tankard up to the brim, before turning and beginning to make haste back to her straw bed of lumber inside. On route, she had one last look around her yard before she made eye contact with a female that she did not recognise, with the nerve to sit in her yard whilst drinking water. WATER! Alma ever so gently snarled at the thought, though right before her snarl could physically manifest, she let out an incredibly loud belch that completely caught her off guard with its sudden lack of wanting to be kept in. Regardless of her uncontrolled bodily functions, Alma refused to lose eye contact with this water drinking broad.. not wanting to be the first to look away, she stopped in her tracks, continued to stare for a few more moments before reacting in her usual passive-aggressive manor...

"The shit you looking at princess?" an unimpressed scowl shaping her purple furred face.

Edited by Gaheris

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Michelee could see the small purple creature waddling through the chaotic crowd.  She gave a jump of surprise when the creature floated on her table and took a drink of her water.  Apparently it was not to her liking, and Michelee could guess why.  The scents from the mixed crowd made it hard to differentiate one creature from another, so Michelee didn't even try to sort through the smells.  But she had no trouble smelling the alcohol that clung to the little purple furred creature standing on her table.  It was rather rude of her to snatch Michelee's water, but since it was a free drink Michelee wouldn't protest.  Finding the water abhorrent, the female floated.... yes, floated..... to the nearest alcoholic libation and proceeded to overflow the tankard.  Liquid sloshed over the side, though not as much as Michelee would have imagined, as the creature waddled back the way she had come.

She stopped in front of Michelee, doing her best to make eye contact while it was obvious she was having trouble focusing.  Her loud belch didn't phase her, as she continued to stare.

On ‎9‎/‎19‎/‎2017 at 4:13 PM, Gaheris said:

"The shit you looking at princess?" an unimpressed scowl shaping her purple furred face.

It got quiet for a moment, as a few of the patrons close by noticed this interlude.  Michelee sensed from those close by that the tiny female was of some importance in this place.  Her attention being drawn to Michelee was unfortunate, because Michelee didn't want to draw any negative attention.  The phrasing worried her too, because she felt this must be a case of mistaken identity.

"I'm sorry.  You must have me mistaken for someone else.  I am no princess."  There was a pregnant pause of quiet, then the listening patrons began to guffaw.  Michelee didn't know what the joke was, because she had been totally serious.  She gave a nervous smile that didn't quite stay on her face.  Confusion was there as well, as she looked around at the surrounding crowd.  Her helpless countenance could be seen by all, as she looked around for a way out of her awkward predicament. 

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Sétanta, the poor crippled boy spoke up.

"You flat chested shrew. Quit bullying patrons, you weak livered woman."

Okay, very mouthy and pseudo-articulate crippled boy.

His legs cross and his one fist curls out its index finger to point as menacingly as an amputee teenager can at a drunk buff blacksmith, a blacksmith with as much fur as fury.

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Benjamin shot up out of his seat. Ran over to the pink creature. "If you want to pick on someone, pick on me," Benjamin said as he put up his fists. Benjamin was just going to intimidate her of course. He wasn't actually going to hit her. Benjamin attacked a table just to intimidate He flipped it, and it almost landed on the girl he was trying to protect. 

Benjamin looked up at the person that also confronted the pink creature. He didn't look like he could fight the creature. It's good that Benjamin went to help him.

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