Private Tales Forging Friendships.

[Kyla Scathach]

“Now, my my my.” Kyla held up a dagger in the sunlight. A gorgeous thing. Light for its size and wicked sharp. It was apparent whomever forged this treated it like art and was a master craftsman.

Thus Kyla was surprised to see it in the hands of a group of scruffy bandits when they tried to rob her. She had the leader pinned to a tree with a few throwing knives and was now questioning him. As a fellow blacksmith she could tell the blade was of highest quality and high end blades meant master forgers.

She had learned from many and was hoping to learn more about the craftsman of this blade. The way it had been cast, the way the handle fit her grip perfectly even though it hadn’t been made for her. Truly someone she needed to know.

“Snooty elf smith. We came looking for someone to repair our weapons. She told us “She didn’t handle shit unless it’s her horses manure and that the manure form her horses was worth more than what we make in a decade cutting throats. Now get out before I break your arms collectively.” Something like that.” He said nervously.

“So we came back later in the night and took it.” He finished. His companions laid next to him in various states of dismemberment. She had literally laughed when they surrounded her. Even more so when Lenny has tried to stab her.

Poor guy.

She had continued to laugh as the blade had buried itself in her side before grabbing him by the top of his head and crushing it with her grip alone.

The fight had gone down hill from there. “Well well well, scared off by a woman? And an elf no less. What did she do? Sing you a threatening song? Maybe danced a gracefully menacing jig?” Kyla asked with a chuckle giving the pinned man a playful slap.

“She was no normal elf. She was a warrior like you.” He said somewhat defensively. “Ah I see, and we see how it turned out when you fought me..” Kyla said with an agreeing nod turning to leave. “Ah well. What’s one more stop eh? I’m sure she’ll be glad. High end blades like these are always custom orders. Might even give me some lodging, a meal, and maybe even a few tips if she isn’t busy.” She said hopefully walking away.

“So..That’s it? Your letting me go?” The bandit said with a hint of hope.

“Yes, yes, I already killed your friends and you’ve gone and pissed yourself. Fairs fairs. Live and let live.” Kyla said dismissively as the man began to try and pull one of the knives out.

“Mimi on the other hand...” Kyla said stopping thoughtfully as the sound of rushing wings and talons rending flesh, followed by a scream of pain that was quickly silenced.

“...holds grudges..” Kyla said turning with a shrug to see her terrorhawk eating the remains of the newly killed man.

“Oi yah feather bag. Let’s get moving shall we? Sooner we get there sooner we can get you cleaned and preened you smell like death and you look like a feather duster.” Kyla said with a wink as the terrorhawk let out a light kaw of offense being taken before she pulled off the poor bandits arm and took to the sky.

Lingering above her like a shadow.

.......................

“Ay that’s one of Miriel’s.” The barkeep said when Kyla showed him the blade.

“The Horse and Hammer be where you’ll find her. Give it a look.” He said with a soft grin at the thought of the elf.

“Straight shooter, real solid warrior like the old days. Don’t make em like her anymore. Real honorable. Works hard.” He said off the top of his head as Kyla nodded and paid for her drink along with a little extra for the information.

She hadn’t asked but information given freely was always appreciated so it didn’t trouble her to put a few extra coins down for him.

Finally she came to the place.

Quaint.

Nice looking place.

Mimi has been staying in the forest until Kyla found the forge.

She could take care of herself and having a massive killer hawk following her and giving every stranger the death glare wasn’t the kind of attention she wanted when in a nice town like this.

She would whistle for her once she was sure she had lodgings to accommodate her. So without further ado she knocked. Holding her breath and standing at attention subconsciously.

Her role as an old princess coming back to her as she stood with a regal, respectful posture not fitting her wild red, braided, dreadlocks, and tattoos. She’d be lucky to not get a door slammed into her face.

 

[Míriel Fëanorna]

Miriel had had a bad week.

The young girl she seemed to have adopted was working out well. It had been going fantastic, really, better than she had hoped for after the stories Valthar had told her. She had managed to get a rough grasp on basic forge making techniques and was now making arrows to a quality Miriel could sell them at, and she seemed to enjoy the work with the horses. It had been freeing up a lot of her time to spend on other things. That was until a woman from the girls past had appeared and trashed the place in her attempt to kill her. There were still a few odd bits broken around the place she hadn't got round to fixing or throwing out yet. She had taken a few nasty hits herself and it had slowed her work down.

But then, on top of that, someone had stolen one of the blades she had been working on as part of a commissioned set. A gruelling technique where the ore alone had taken three days in an earth furnace. Sleepless nights of watching a fire for nothing. She would have to restart the whole process again because they had to be from the same ore, brothers.

Miriel rubbed her temples and winced as she graze a bruise.

A knock at the door distracted her from her log book of orders she had been working through; trying to decide what to prioritise and what to push back. Slowly she stood, pushing her chair back with a scrape. Miri was in no mood for further fighting. The weapons on the racks hummed in anticipation as they woke to their Mistresses silent command, waiting for a single thought that would launch them into action should the need arise.

"Can I help you?" the smithy wrenched open the door and leaned against it with a look that said this better be good. Her hair was scruffy from a day in the forge and her eyes had bags under them. Against the blue of the tattoos upon her face they were less noticeable under one eye but more so under the other. Or perhaps that was the fading black eye. Her eyes ran casually down the other woman, assessing.

"If you're here for a weapon I open at 7am," she began to shut the door.

 

[Kyla Scathach]

Kyla started as the door was practically thrown open. The woman was tall and well built. Her eyes while haggard and one possibly black had a hard look to them.

She spoke with a serious voice that spoke of the stress she had been under.

“I uh..” Kyla said taken aback but surged forward catching the door as it was being closed.

“I’ve got something of yours!” She said with a slight note of urgency in her voice.

“Kind of got in a tussle with a few guys outside of town.” She said with a hopeful grin.

“S-sorry about the blood I hadn’t been able to clean it properly..they kind of stabbed me with it.” She said gesturing to the blood soaked spot Where the blade had punched right through her chest plate.

“I-I’m a smith myself, it’s a hell of a blade. I don’t want a reward. I just wanted to meet with the person that can forge a blade sharp enough to punch through one of my black steel breast plates..” She said quickly handing the blade to its rightful owner.

“But we’ve been traveling for days and my friend and I could use lodgings and a meal if you’d be so kind. I can sleep where ever you see fit or have room, and my friend can sleep outside on your roof..” She said almost pleading.

“And I could use a place to fix this breast plate..” She added.

“I didn’t bring it back to leverage you of course, but from one smith to another..” She said her voice gaining a hopeful tone as she fell off.

She did look beaten and tired blood and mud from all the sleeping rough, traveling far, and fighting every inch in some places could leave a person.

There were stray dogs in the street that looked better fed and rested than Kyla at this point.

 

[Míriel Fëanorna]

Miri narrow her eyes at the hand on her door keeping it from closing then pushing it open. One or two blades from the rack were silently snaking through the air towards their mistress. But then Miri heard what she said - something of hers? Curiosity had her allowing the door to open, the blades behind her shifting in their quiet movement to point upwards in a less offending gesture. Through the woman's stuttering her eyes roved her form to her hand and-

"Mirtya," as she named the blade it vibrated in the woman's hand, the blade glowing faintly before flying back to its mistresses hands like a lost lamb. Her eyes returned to the stranger, more interested in her words now. Another Smith? And stabbed with her own blade by a person who should never have touched it. If she had thought the blade good before she should have been glad it was not wielded by its rightful owner.

"Thank you, his brother has been missing him," screaming for him, truly, but mortals without the Touch would never hear her blades and understand truly what she meant. A soft sigh. She needed to stop taking in strays but still, she had brought her blade back to her and saved her another three sleepless nights. "Come in, I have enough room for you and your... friend?" Miri glanced beyond the girl but saw no person, curiosity lit her hazel gaze as she stepped aside to let the fellow blacksmith inside.

 

[Kyla Scathach]

Her eyes lit up.

“Really!?” Kyla said relief flooding her features.

“I mean..” She gathered herself. “Thank you.” She said with a slight bow. She then whistled over her shoulder. A short piercing whistle that cut through the night.

“She’ll be along.” Kyla said stepping inside and politely removing her mud caked boots, claymore, and bow and quiver by the door.

“Do you have a wash tub? She asked. “I could use a bath and my friend is worse than me.” She said already knowing she more than likely reeked of blood and sweat. A heavy weight landed on her roof and the flapping of wings and a screech of confusion would meet their ears before a light tap on the door.

“That’s her.” Kyla said opening the door to a massive black hawk.

“It’s ok you old feather bag. She said we can stay.” Kyla said with a grin. The hawk nodded and flapped her massive wings once to propel her into the house gently resting on the floor.

“You could’ve just walked in.” Kyla scoffed at the bird who nipped at her and cawed. “You do not look like a wobbly dwarf when you walk it’s graceful.” Kyla said with a snicker before remembering that Miriel was standing there.

“Oh this is my friend Milarami. Or Mimi for short.” She said. As the black terrorhawk cawed in response with a respectful nod.

The bird eyed the smith with respect. Seeming to take to her instantly she chirped approval after a moment of looking her up and down. “She likes the look of you.” Kyla said with a grin.

 

[Míriel Fëanorna]

Definitely need to stop taking in strays, Miriel pressed her lips into a thin line as she watched the other woman strip off her stuff by the forge door. Quietly, the elf drew the large wooden beam across it and locked it for the night. At least, she started to until there was a cry and a knock at the door. Opening it Miri raised an eyebrow as a hawk flew in. Not just a normal hawk though. A huge beast. She really hoped it hadn't flow across her fields or the horses would be going mental. Weary, she then finished her job of bolting the door.

"Animals and I tend to get along," a soft smile directed to the bird. It was the way of her people, their affinity with the Earth and its creatures. It made them feel safe that she smelt of home. "Come, I'll show you the way."

Miriel started up the steps that were in her forge to the space above it. Recently she had turned the second floor into a staff room come guest room. Piles of furs littered the floor along with comfy looking cushions and mattresses. When she didn't want to seek her own bed out of fear she would sleep for more than half an hour she passed out up here. There were a few sheets of paper and colouring pencils scattered in a corner that Mara had been playing with.

"You can sleep in here tonight," Miri motioned with a hand but she was still walking, her destination the door at the other end. Being above the forge the room would be warm and cosy for them at least. Opening the door Miriel led them into the house next door which was her actual house. This place felt like a home. They were on the mezzanine of the second floor and glancing down below it was clear Miriel had lived here for a long time. Plants grew amongst the rafters and beams, more furs line the good oak floors, and there were touched of a life lived everywhere.

"Please keep the noise down my..." Miriel paused. What on earth was Mara too her? "My apprentice is sleeping," she finished, pushing open the door to the bathroom for them, revealing a large tub. "I'll be in the kitchen downstairs when you are done."

 

[Kyla Scathach]

“Wow..” Kyla whistled at the expansive space and comfortable furs. Her host was already moving and Kyla snapped her fingers as Mimi followed closely.

“Oh my gods..” she said in awe of the large tub. The promise of a bath to come almost made her weak in the knees as she began filling it with hot water.

“I’m going first.” She said to the bird after a grateful nod of acknowledgement to Miri to remain quiet and find in the kitchen afterwards. Finally alone she allowed Mimi to enter before stripping down and sinking into the warm water with an audible groan. Her wounds and aching back relaxing in the soothing liquid. After washing it was then Mimis turn.

The bird protested half heartedly slipping into the tub and allowing Kyla to preen away all the bent and broken feathers she had incurred on their long journey and many adventures. The dried gore and blood on her beak and talons was stubborn but a good scrubbing had her right as rain soon enough.

Finally Kyla washed her clothes. The blood stains refusing to be coaxed off the white fabric of her chest wrap and leather pants as Kyla scrubbed with a will. The grime and dirt faired much worse in the sticking around department and fell away quickly to her vigorous efforts.

Soon she was pulling on wet clothes before stepping from the bathroom and going to her pack by the door. Returning with a clean set of under wear, chest wrap, and pants she pulled them on folding her clean wet ones and setting them aside for the time being.

Now in just her pants and chest wrap she would make her way to the kitchen while Mimi waited for her to leave before she shook herself dry a few times and exited as well.

“There that wasn’t so bad. Besides now you smell like lavender and not a blood soaked bog skunk that drowned in a river of old sweat.” She said with a wink as the bird gave her the evil eye. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m right and you know it.” She said with a chuckle at the birds ornery behavior.

“Besides Miriel might even pet you now.” She whispered with a nudge as they entered the kitchen.

“Fresh and clean.” Kyla said with another chuckle. The bath leaving her in good spirits as they looked around and took in the sights and smells of the kitchen. Her side wound was already closing up Looking like a wound she had revived days ago rather than hours ago.

Her tattoo glowing slightly as her body made repairs now that she was at rest. Having not thought about it for so long Kyla was at ease here. The woman was being kind and she had no reason to realize that while only wearing a chest wrap most of her body was on full display.

The tapestry of ghostly scars covered her body along with her red tattoo lacing from the top right side of her head to the very bottom right side of her foot, but that wasn’t what she should have been mindful of. On her back was another tattoo.

Taking up the entire space of her shoulders and usually covered by her chest plate sat a pack of wolves charging towards a chest full of gold surrounded by bloody corpses.

At the front of the pack was a large blood red wolf and next to it was a slightly smaller blue wolf. The wolves had been a nasty gang and word of who they were and what they did had spread around from Alliria to Elbion every member had the same tattoo on their back. Any who had an idea of the underworld knew them by that alone as well as their cold blooded leader. The red wolf.

“So whatcha cooking Miriel?” She asked giving a quick turn to take in the place and giving the master smith a chance to see her tattoos unknowingly.

Mimi cawed slightly.

“I have red meat for you. Go to the roof. Your too big for in here you know that.” Kyla said with a good natured gesture to shoo her away. The terror hawk looked miffed but took her leave with a nod. Hoping to the door and opening it with her talons before a massive whoosh told them she had taken to the roof of the forge.

“She is magnificent isn’t she.” Kyla said now that they were alone and the massive bird couldn’t get a swelled head listening to her compliments unaware of the danger she might have just put herself in. Her past misdeeds always lying in wait to ruin anything good she had going.

 

[Míriel Fëanorna]

Miriel yawned as she padded down the stairs twirling the blade over in her hands. It's voice was excited and it told her in a ramble about its adventures. If she were not so tired Miri might have found the whole thing amusing, especially knowing what the blades actual gifts were. If they had been the true intended owner the woman might not have been alive to bring it home. She glanced at her rum and then shook her head and made a beeline for the kettle instead, putting it on the stove to boil. Another yawn but a wince this time as her jaw moved over a bruise. Whilst it was boiling she ducked out and went through the movements of putting hay out for the horses, patted Thorlion as he came huffing over, before heading back inside.

The kettle was done and she poured herself a black coffee before looking into the pot she had left to boil all day. Silently Miri thanked her past self for starting the stew early that morning so she didn't have to think about cooking when she got home. Mara had done the typical thing and picked out most of the meat but vegetable stew didn't really bother her.

As she was spooning up two bowls and warming some bread in the oven the other woman came down. Miri glanced over once but her eyes didn't linger. She was more than used to fellow warriors walking around in such a manner back home. Scars were a source of pride as were tattoos. Though the one on her back did catch her curiosity.

"She is," Miri offered the woman a bowl of stew and crusty bread then motioned to the table in the middle of the U shape the counters made. She sat down and tucked into her own meal without much ceremony - Miri disliked pomp and circumstance. "I am afraid if she doesn't stay out of my horses way she might get a nasty kick though," she mused around her spoon. Thorlion liked to be the best looking animal around with wings.

 

[Kyla Scathach]

“Indeed.” Kyla said with a grin. “There’s been a few nights she come home limping biting off more than she can chew with a solid horse.” She said with a snort.

“She leaves them alone as a rule. She’s a smart bird though she knows they’re yours. I wouldn’t worry. A horse thief on the other hand might want to pick a night she isn’t staying. She will kill someone trying to steal. She sees it as an excuse to eat.” Kyla explained between mouthfuls. The only ceremony she gave to the meal was waiting for the host to start eating before diving in with a will.

Afterwards she wiped her mouth and let out a belch that she quickly silenced covering her mouth.

“My gods excuse me.” She said apologetically

“I haven’t had stew like that in ages. Must have scarfed it down too fast.” She said pulling out a small flask from her pants and taking a deep swig before offering it to Miriel “This is dragon fire rum. Weird tavern out in the spine They make it out of aged rum and cinnamon roots. some even say they distill it with real dragon fire in the kettle.” She said “That flask alone cost me 300 gold.” She said giving it a little enticing shake.

She wasn’t talking it up to impress the woman like many might believe but was instead trying to justify that she was offering something of value in return for the fantastic stew and bath.

Though by how badly her clothes had smelled before she had washed them...the bath was perhaps for everyone’s benefit and not hers alone.

“And I’d very much like to help you around the forge in the morning if you find that agreeable. My wound should close up by evening and we can be on our way..” She bit her lip looking around and at the smith before timidly continuing.

“Unless...you look like you have your hands full here. I saw the log book. Your taking on a lot of work. Let me help. I have heaps of gold already so don’t worry about payment. All I ask is for lodging and dinners. My breakfast and lunch I’ll take care of myself.” She said quickly. “I could stay a few days and help you put a dent in your log and give you some breathing room. In return I’ll see how you make these pieces of art. Which I see as more than fair compensation.” She said.

“I can be gone by morning of course if that is what you’d like but after your hospitality I would be remiss to not offer my service to a fellow smithy whom I could learn a lot from....and seems very taxed at the moment...” She added the last part pointedly glancing at the bags under her eyes. Her bruises, and the smattering of broken and obliterated objects and things that were scattered through the house.

 

[Míriel Fëanorna]

Miriel wasn't entirely sure who she was more concerned for, the bird of her horse if it got the wrong idea. She chewed her stew thoughtfully, listening with those elfish ears for any potential noise... but nothing came. Returning to her stew content in the knowledge that the animals at least were behaving, she instead turned her attention now to the woman opposite her.

Her lips quirked at the belch.

"Sounds... interesting," Miri took the flask and then a careful swig. She had been around the block a few centuries to know how to hold her liquor and also what she preferred. The rum burned but in a good way and sat nicely in her stomach. She made an appreciative noise and passed it back.

"You... want to help?" Miriel quirked an eyebrow. Not what she had been expecting from the gruff warrior opposite. It was rare those who wielded blades wanted to fix them too, no matter that the two professions seemed on paper to make the most sense together. "Where did you train? How far along in your training are you?" a tilt of the head. Despite her tiredness her curiosity pushed it away. It was rare that she got to speak to a smithy. If she was any good then taking her up on the offer would be an easy decision. Miri could need help and she didn't value her pride in such a way she would damage her own health in order to snub offered aid.

 

[Kyla Scathach]

“I started in my fathers forge in the spine when I was 10 name days old. I mostly work with black steel and iron in a pinch. Steel prices in the spine were an arm and a leg except for this.” She says taking back the flask with a wink.

They had shared food and drink around a table of her home. She was kin by her old tribes law. She left and returned with her claymore.

The old leather scabbard was worn and covered in notches in groups of five. Teeth and bones both human and otherwise dangled like charms around the wretched looking thing. She handed it to Miri with a nod.

“That is my best work. My father trusted me to make it after I was 16 name days old. He presented me with a bag. Ore from a star that fell from the sky and the bone of dead dragon found by the tribe long ago. The ore was strong but light. It took 7 days of massive amounts of heat before it was even workable. Even more so after I began the rest of the process. For another 7 days I swung my hammer taking hour breaks to rest.” She said with a hint of pride in her voice. “I used the dragon bone for the handle. Carved it myself.” She added with a smirk.

“I can cast quality blades, arrows, and armor. I trained with a smith by the name of Volthar for a small time to help hone my skills and better refine my process. I am actually returning home from visiting him.”
She said waiting for Miri to examine it and show either her disapproval or satisfaction with her work.

If she approved then she would understand that work done at 16 would more than likely improved. The blade had an almost rainbow glint to it like someone had spilled oil in a still lake. The blade was thick but much lighter than it appeared.

Runes to lighten the weight further were carved in the handle leaving the blade feeling more like a short saber than the two handed man cleaver it was. It hummed at Miri’s touch rattling in its sheathe.

“Um..It’s never done THAT before..” Kyla said her eyes widening with curiosity looking between her sword and the smithy.

 

[Míriel Fëanorna]

Miriel took the blade silently and turned it in her hands as she examined the work. It wasn't bad, some fine tuning and it would have been a very good blade but considering the girl had been only 16 she should indeed feel proud. Stars were an odd material to work with and many smithy's who trained all their lives struggled with the task of melting it back down. The notches in the sheath got a disapproving frown - Miriel's people didn't agree with marking kills and keeping a tally - but she returned her focus to the sword as she ran her finger over it.

"You must whetstone the blade more often," it wasn't said in an aggressive or patronising way, merely advice. "These burs could one day be the difference between a clean cut and a dead enemy or a jolted swipe and your own limbs."

The runes were also not too bad, though again a little rough perhaps. There were easier ways to make a blade lighter, smaller combinations of runes that would mean less chance of them being eroded away. But again, these things came with years and Miriel had over 200 under her belt. The girl would learn in time if she hadn't already. It was habit really to brush her mind against metal. She was expecting silence truthfully but was pleasantly surprised the blade woke at the feather light touch with a long yawn.

"It is because he has been asleep until now," Miri laughed softly. Its probing questions were muffled still with years of sleep.

You know it is very rude to become so blunted as you are, these notches are unseemly. The smith chided. Bashfully the blade shifted, seemed to stretch and then ironed itself out flat again. Grooves and cuts gone and the edge re-honed to a razor sharpness.

"It is a good blade," Miri gave her final verdict as she passed the blade back and let it fall back into sleep.

 

[Kyla Scathach]

The blade would tell her the name Kyla had given it as she brushed her mind over it. Ageis.

A name usually reserved for a shield.

A protector.

A supporter.

Something to be relied on and trusted.

“Asleep?” Kyla stared for a moment as the edge seemed to hone its self to a degree that suggested it was a band new blade fresh from the whet stone. What little light there was in the room reflected off of its deadly sharpness.

“How did you..” Kyla said her jaw dropping before she quickly regained her composure. Taking the blade back and immediately feeling it go dead in her hand.

“Is it um..Awake now? Or something?” Kyla said holding it carefully like a child she cared for. “Because it hasn’t vibrated like that since..” She blushed.

“This going to sound silly..but it was getting hard to keep a steady hand on the third day I swung the hammer. The metals will was far greater than my own. My muscles ached.. My back throbbed...Then my father told me my mother used to sing to the blades as he would form them. He used to always say “Any blade can have a razor edge, but a blade with ears is truly a blade above equal.” Whatever that means..” She said sheepishly.

“So on the third day I got tired and frustrated so..I..Um..I sang to it...Just stupid kids songs my mother would sing to me when I was younger. And songs of battle and kinship my father and the other men would sing after a well fought in a glorious battle. To celebrate victory and mourn those lost..” She said admitting to something wasn’t something Kyla did often but this woman seemed like someone to simply be honest and direct with.

“When I did, it would sort of..Hummed along and began to be easier to mold...I know that sounds crazy and I never felt nor saw it happen again until now..Is it cursed?” She asked with a slightly worried look between the blade and Miriel.

She beamed at her approval of the blade. Her heart nearly bursting from her chest with the acknowledgement of her pride not being misplaced but warranted.

The look quickly shifted as she asked about a curse. Turning to that of like a mother asking a doctor if her child was ill.

 

[Míriel Fëanorna]

"It won't stay awake unless I ask it too," Miriel scraped her chair back and returned to the stove where she piled more stew into her bowl and with a look queried if the girl also wanted a refill. If she indicated she did want more then she would fill the bowl before returning to the table and taking another spoonful. "I can talk to metal, bend it, hear it. Everything as a soul - your father was not far off," humans of course knew some mimicry of what Miriel and elves like her could do but it wasn't quite the same and could at times be dangerous. Having a blade awakened with an owner who had no awareness could result in a lot of deaths.

After another spoonful she continued. "Singing to blades is a very old Elvish tradition and humans know quite a few of them. Translated into your tongue they are not as strong and they sound like stories rather than a spell, it's what keeps them circulating. It sounds like you just know a few of those, it is probably what kept the metal in a light sleep. Some sword I have to spend longer talking to in order to wake them up." Another mouthful of stew. "Not all elves can hear the metal when they awaken it but they can feel it and they know about it enough to put the proper safety aspects in place to control it. Humans, it is harder still to feel it and control it. Once you wake it you make it its own thing, unless you bind it into doing a certain job then it can start to form its own ideas of its purpose which is deadly. That is often what humans mean when they call a thing cursed."

 

[Kyla Scathach]

“Well then why not ask it to stay awake then?” Kyla asked. She had always thought of her sword as a loyal friend.

It didn’t judge her actions or her. It obeyed her every request without fail and any failing was due to her part. But to realize there was a way to talk to it..To actually hear it speak.. It blew her mind. The fact a smithy that could literally speak and bend metal with an almost spiritual connection awed her.

The hope she would be possibly allowing Kyla to work with her was something Kyla couldn’t put into words how much she would enjoy gleaning wisdoms from this woman.

Her new friend standing to refill her bowl and silently asking if Kyla would like a refill. Kyla nodded gratefully tearing into the second bowl and listening to the woman speak of her skills and craft. Every word furthering her curiosity and respect for the woman.

However the further the woman spoke the more Kyla understood how childish her formally posed question was. Of course powerful magic would have consequences. But a question weighed on her mind and soul. One that had her offering her blade to the smithy once more. Noticeably handling the blade a touch more tenderly than she had before.

“This must seem childish..but if it’s possible I must ask you...” Her solid and steady hands. Worn from a lifetime of swing hammer and blade. A woman that had worked for every inch of what she had. Shook slightly with a true fear she held in her eyes and heart. “Could you ask what it thinks of me?” She said quietly. Unable to meet the smithy’s eyes.

 

[Míriel Fëanorna]

Miriel raised an eyebrow at the question. It was not the one most people wanted to hear from their weapons and the response was not always what a person wanted to hear. Metal was a fickle thing. It didn't want much in life but a purpose and to be looked after, told that it was literally the best thing since sliced bread. She took a spoonful of stew as her eyes turned gold, the only outward sign she was communicating with the blade. The sword in the girls hands would also glow in that moment and hum within her hands.

The gold faded from them both a few minutes later and Miri put another spoonful of stew into her mouth. She chewed for a moment, swallowed, then relayed the answer.

"He says you need to relax your grip on him a bit more, use him as an extension of your arm rather than an instrument. But... he seems content to stay in your service. He decided to keep the name you gave him though he has an older one," a light twitch of her lips as she explained. "All ores have a name before they are made into something. Sometimes you get blades with the same name because of this - like the blade you brought back to me.

He enjoys your adventures though."

 

[Kyla Scathach]

Kyla’s eye widened with slight surprise as Miriel raised an eyebrow at her question adding to the feeling that this was not a normal question.

The old Kyla would ha e asked what questions to ask to better the blade.

Make it a better tool to serve in her crusade for vengeance and wealth denied her. But if the blade had a sentience to it...Kyla wanted to understand what it thought of her to improve herself as she in turn improved and cared for the blade. A true combining of goals to try and strive for both parties happiness that was not gained by asking question with easy to hear answers.

“I see..” she said slowly at Miriels answer. Loosening the vice like grip in which she clutched her blade even now almost dropping it. “R..Really?” She asked nervously. A weight lifting from her shoulders.

It hadn’t been the answer she was suspecting to get, but as Miriel continued it slowly made sense. A blade wasn’t made to judge the action asked if it. A blade was made to preform a task asked of it. One did not make a blade and find uses for its design. One designed a blade to preform a task. She listened quietly taking in Miriels every word.

Each one adding and further revealing the revelation she was fast approaching. The mental acrobatics were halted as Miriel mentioned the blade enjoying and deciding to keep the name she chose for it.

Ageis.

It warmed her heart slightly that it comprehended the importance of the title and cherished it. So lost in thought and food with the new information Miriel had been shoving into her brain had left her to realize her host was still eating as she had quickly demolished her entire two bowls. Inhaling them like some great storm.

A slight blush played across her cheeks as she realized how much like an animal she must have been eating. Another belch threatening to pass her lips was silenced with a hand drawing to her face and a slight turning away.

“I was going to turn in soon..” She said clearing away her empty bowl and placing them were a single dirty dish also sat no doubt left behind by the other person she mentioned living her.

“I can help you clean up and turn in. My offer for aid still stands of course...If you’ll have me..” She said still somewhat nervously. As she had turned to get up the light that lit the room exposed her tattoo once more as she turned her back to the table and walked the counter holding the dirtied bowl.

It sat on her skin like a dark ominous cloud she was no longer aware of even if she still felt it’s rain. A mark of past misdeeds. Would this smithy let her past be her past? Or would her past rouse from its slumber and peak it’s filthy head from its hole .

 

[Míriel Fëanorna]

"Your help would be most welcome tomorrow, truly. Now I have spoken with your blade I am sure I can trust you with some of the work," a small smile but the smithy was exhausted. She pushed herself to her feet with her palms flat on the table as if to steady herself before looking up the stairs. She had plenty of questions but any answers would be on deaf ears tonight. Her eyes lingered on the tattoo a moment but then she was heading for the stairs. Who was she to judge another warrior. In her tribe her tattoos were probably the same, their meanings were just lost here.

"I will see you in the morning," the elf yawned as she made her way back up the stairs to find her bed.

* * *​

Miriel was up with the rising sun as usual. She left the horses for when Mara would wake and instead went straight to the forge. The first job was wrapping up the orders and sending them out with the morning delivery man who popped by as the elf was finishing. She passed them over and breathed a sigh of relief before ticking them off in her book and eyeing up the other orders. If the girl was serious about helping her then she would give her some of the smaller jobs that required a good hand but no enchantments. She wasn't entirely sure if she had any magical qualities after all.

Pushing open the doors to the Smithy was a sign for most in the street to get their own butts in gear. Miri always opened first. It started the steady flow of traffic through this part of town. She poked her head up to the roof to see if the bird had slept all night up there.

"You can come in if you want," she called in case she was there then disappeared back inside, leaving a bowl on the floor for the great winged beast with some fresh meat in it. Then she padded back to the fires. The most pressing enchanting weapon she had to make was a bow and a set of arrows. It would require a lot more thought and concentration for it was working with wood not metal and whilst they were in a way related as they were both from the Earth, they were as different as chalk and cheese.

She sat at one of the work benches and began to whittle.

 

[Kyla Scathach]

Kyla rose before dawn feeling refreshed. It was amazing what a little stew, a bed and sleep could do for a person.

She had been sharpening twiddling her thumbs with this new found energy. Using her whetstone though it need no such thing. She was lightly tending to the blade to simply get into the habit. In all honesty she hated the city. She wanted to hunt.

The morning mists and fair weather being a perfect day to do so. Thus leaving Mimi to snooze she left for the city gates as she heard Miriel wake. Arriving at the forge half covered in blood with a large stag. It’s massive crown of thick antlers most impressive.

“Look at the rack on this one eh? “ She said with a grin. Having made use of herself the hustle of the city didn’t seem to bother her as much as it only increased after Miriel had opened in her absence. The carcass was already field dressed when she pinned it to the wall by its neck with a large hunting knife after a quick glance around showed no meat hooks available.

“Sorry I just saw no meat in your stew last night thought I’d help out..”She said sheepishly as she realized she was covered in blood and Miriel had already started to whittle shafts in her absence.

“I’m sorry. I know you could buy more meat..but after being so well rested I woke early feeling restless so I..” She trailed off realizing she was rambling. “What I mean is..How can I help she said finally.

 

[Míriel Fëanorna]

Miriel raised her eyebrows as the girl came traipsing in with a stag, trailing spots of blood after it. Customers had come in in worse states though so she said nothing and glanced back down to her work, listening quietly to the girls ramblings. Once she came to a stop Miri also set down her tools and moved over to the book of orders.

"There was no meat because my apprentice believes I will not notice when she takes it all out," her lips twitched as she tried to hide a smile. "Your offering is appreciated though, venison is a rare treat. I'm not sure with the girl around it will make it into any kind of stew though," a soft laugh. Mara preferred her meat raw. She would be delighted to have a stag to devour as she would like.

"If you're still happy to help on some of these back orders, I have a set of six knives that desperately need doing. The details are all written down here - can you read?" another glance up. It wasn't a common skill so it wouldn't be a surprise if she couldn't.

 

[Kyla Scathach]

Kyla raised an eyebrow. “What kind of person eats just meat?” She said puzzled before pushing it aside.

It didn’t matter.

A question was posed to her and given her her rough and wild exterior she didn’t take the question harshly. Nodding with the air of someone being used to being asked it.

“Oh..yeah of course. Mother taught me. She was an elf.” She said with a slight smirk. “She was the one who sang to my fathers blades. My real mother died after giving birth to Ferelith. I remember very little of her.” She said taking a look at the order and the details of it.

“But she raised me like her own and honestly from how my dad speaks of how she treated my sister and I..I think it a blessing.” She said with a chuckle. “Her family had been quite disappointed in her marrying a warlord king and raising two human children like her own...” She pauses before grinning playfully and putting on a mock offended expression.

“ Your people can be quite..snobby sometimes..” Kyla said in perfect elvish as she ribbed her new friend playfully with a chuckle. “Now I’ve got some knives to make...” She said looking up from the order details. “They say they want bone handles...Think the stag horns might work? That’s bone.

I could carve and leather wrap it myself.” She said already moving to gather what she needed from around the forge.

The fact she was completely unfamiliar with the layout, and yet still found what she needed quickly was a testament to how neat and clean Miri kept her forge.

Kyla reminded herself to keep it that way not wanting to burn a bridge so early in its construction with the bad forge keeping habits she tended to have at times.

Steeling herself for the work she would begin taking into account Miris response to whether or not stag horn was acceptable as she started to heat her iron ingots to begin to shape the blade. The fact the blade was iron and not steel told her she was helping fill a bulk order of lower grade merchandise.

While knowing those orders always weighed heavily thus meaning she knew she was helping she couldn’t help but try and catch glimpses and Miri worked trying to learn as much as she could with stolen glances in times where she was waiting for the metal to heat or cool.

 

[Míriel Fëanorna]

Miri raised a brown slightly at her admission her mother was an elf and her eyes ran over her features again to try and see it - even half elves usually gave off a distinct... vibe to other elves but she wasn't getting that from the girl. Then, what she said next, made so much more sense. Along with how the woman had known about singing to blades. Perhaps she had been able to talk to metal like she had. It was a sad loss whenever one of their own died, their numbers were dwindling in the world but Miri busied herself with getting back to her arrows, content now that the girl could read what needed to be done and sort herself out. She wasn't typically a hand holder.

"Stag horn is fine," she nodded as she sat down again at her bench. "I will be one of the first to admit my kind are snobbish - it is hard not to be when you live such a long life. It can often get frustrating when you spend time on someone for their life to be over in a blink of an eye. I've been here for 60 years and that is considered nothing to my people, but here I have seen a whole generation grow and die. When you live in that kind of community it is like..." she struggled to think of the right words as she tended to the wood with the upmost care. "It's like you have to start over again. It can grow rather tiring."

Occasionally Miri would glance over to the woman's work to make sure she was doing things how she would but after the first hour she was satisfied enough to leave her pretty much alone and focused all of her attention on the bow and arrows. Once the general shape was done she began roughing it out and dealing with the knots of wood. After that came the actual work, the tillering. She strung the wood and then with some force, pulled it. The wood creaked. This was the stage that you turned a piece of wood into something a man could use after all. Once it was fully strung she then laid it on a device which would keep it strung so the wood could get used to it. It would take a good couple of days. Murmuring slightly she rubbed some oil over the wood and began etching some runes into it. For a moment they burned bright before fading and dulling.

Now it was time for the arrows.

 

[Kyla Scathach]

Finally the blades were ready to be quenched. Kyla has begun work on two other orders finding herself falling easily back j to the grove of working in the forge. It was a good feeling. “So what makes you not snobby then no offense but you don’t meet many elves..” Kyla looked the solid warrior up and down taking in her warrior beauty and rough, sturdy attitude. “Like you..” She said with a slight blush.

................

Mimi swooped in around midday as Kyla wiped her brow. Her hands blacked and sweat from swinging a hammer. “Been having a nice rest I see you old feather duster.” Kyla teased as the terror hawk nipped her ear. “She liked the meat. She thanks you and is off to go get something a little more fresh. Likes it’s warm and bloody isn’t that right.” Kyla said with a smirk setting down her hammer and stroking the bird before she took her leave exiting the forge before her wings spread and she took to the early midday sky.

She finished the iron swords she had been working on ready to quench them as well as she set about making the knife handles. They had been mostly silent and working as was the nature of the forge hard work and focus were rarely aided by needless chatter, but as she worked she watched Miri work. Her mind taking in every action she could.

 

[Míriel Fëanorna]

Miriel laughed softly at her question and then shrugged her shoulders.

"My people are from the Ixchel Wilds - it tends to mellow you out a bit when you are constantly thinking about your home killing you. I've also just lived in many different places in my life which is uncommon for elves - they tend to stay in their homes or near to it or wander alone. I prefer immersing myself into cultures if I can - you learn their techniques easier if you can understand them as a people," Miriel offered no more on the subject and went back to her job. The silence returned.

By the afternoon she had finished with the arrows and lined them up neatly with the bow. It would take a good day for the bow to bend into the desired shape so there was nothing else she could do for the order for now. Instead she moved on to a curved elvish blade order with the ability to not shatter. Her eyes flicked up to the great bird when it entered the forge and inclined her head with a small smile at her comment before lowering her gaze back to the blade. It was an intricate process to make an Elven blade. Whilst the first metal was hot a smithy had to pour in another metal and swirl them together. She was currently bent over the fire with a toothpick, blending the two together into complicated patterns.

"If you have questions you can ask," Miriel murmured, catching the girls 100th glance over to her with a small smile.