Private Tales New around here, I take it?

[Fritz Erlain]

Lord Blackwell

A incredibly tired Fritz came down to the counter where his coffee was waiting. He sipped it and perked up a bit. Wow, I REALLY do not like the morning, huh? he thought with a small grimace. "Blackwell! He's here! I've read some of his wildlife books. Honey, i'm going out to meet him." said someone loudly across the street. "Books? He must be an adventurer! What could he teach me? Maybe if he isn't royalty, or at least not a royal snob, and not likely to insult a honest buisness, I could get a conversation...No, I spent way too much time sleeping late. I have to stay here. hopefully he comes my way!" he said half-heartedly, not believing it possible.

"Swords, Tools and Armors Sold and Repaired Here!" he yelled, repeating it a multitude of times. "Oh well, whatever. Might as well read my book on Elbian birds. The one with the mohawk looking plume is funny." he thought aloud. He thought of a little song, and having nothing else to do, sung it: "The birds and the bees...for all to see, inhabit Elbion high in the trees. they are as plentiful as a dog's fleas. The man in the city housing me, happens to be an expert on the nature we see." he finished with a smirk.

There was someone coming down the path. He sat in wait, wondering who it was. "Ho! Do you need anything repaired or made?" he ventured.

 

[Lord Blackwell]

The old noble stopped at the stand, deeply inhaled the contents of his pipe, and exhaled them upwards into the market air. After a 2 week travel from the portal stone, Lord Johnathan Blackwell III had a day of rest and decided to roam the city. The cacophony of the marketplace was almost deafening, but there was something he picked out of the crowd. An eager young man called to him, causing Johnathan to perk up his ears and look over. Slowly and with interest, Lord Blackwell walked up to the counter and exhaled his smoke upwards again to not disturb anyone.

Anything repaired? The auburn haired man hummed to himself and unsheathed his machete, taking a look at it. It's been a while since it's last touch up, and the chips were beginning to set in. As apprehensive as he would be to handing over the heirloom to a stranger, he held it in front of him and turned properly to the blonde haired young man.

"Perhaps I do, my good man, but you look a little young to be trusted with my blade, no offense meant of course. It's a family heirloom, and I'd rather leave it in the hands of the master if possible. Is he about, lad?"

He brought out a shining rag and idly rubbed the machete, his habitual smile showing all the while.

"What's your name, my boy?"

Fritz Erlain

 

[Fritz Erlain]

Lord Blackwell

"The master died during a robbery. He was my foster father, and taught me everything I know. If anyone can handle that fine steel, It's my mentor and I. My preferred name is something you have to take a bit to get. Call me by my real name: Dune." he replied. "I've heard there is a man in this awesome city that is quite the expert on wildlife. I happen to appreciate the world around me as well. Blackwell, Lord Blackwell is his title. Would love to meet the man some day. And you are?" he asked.

"Oh! Kendyl, can we handle this blade?" he asked a man approaching.

"Looks like it. I have a bit of a date to attend to, so i leave it in your hands, Fritzy." a muscular man named Kendyl replied with a quick look.

"Dude, I wasn't...Oh well, now you know my preferred name. I like it more masculine though, so call me Fritz. In the end, It's up to you. Do you trust me after hearing word from my teacher?" he asked. "Also, do you by chance specialize in the style of sword? I always love to learn from adventurers!"

 

[Lord Blackwell]

Johnathan cocked an eyebrow. Someone hearing of him outside of a military position was unprecedented. Nonetheless, if his mentor trusted the boy, the worst couldn't be that bad. Lord Blackwell flipped his machete so that the hilt faced the blacksmith.

"Very well, young Fritz, I trust the repair of Blackwell's Bite to you."

The naturalist smiled as he handed the blade to the young smith.

"I'm the naturalist Lord Johnathan Blackwell III, though the Lord Blackwell you're thinking of could very well be a few of my family members. My works have only been published recently, so you'd have to be most attentive to have read them. I suppose I am known to write about mostly wildlife though."

He stroked his mustache when he was asked about his specialization.

"I suppose I'm what you call a jack of all trades in weapons. I've learned the sword, the bow, the crossbow, the pike, and most everything in-between. I can't call myself a master of any, though. My machete is the weapon I've grown most accustomed to, and it's been the thing that got me out of more than a few scrapes."

The noble contemplated his idea for a moment.

"Say, do you enjoy stories, my lad? I have more than a few in my age, and it might help you feel less bored as you forge. I have near nothing to do today, there's about a week before I set off to study the fauna of the Seret mountains."

Fritz Erlain

 

[Fritz Erlain]

Lord Blackwell

"It is good to meet you, sir. I promise the utmost care will be used when fixing this family blade. By the way, you are rather nice and down to earth for Nobility. Not that that's a bad thing, I mean, that's good. Just, the royalty I hear of are usually snobs and, pardon my language, jackasses. Thank you for trusting me." he said as he took the blade by the hilt, then quickly swung and jabbed with it.

"Wow. This is a very light yet strong weapon. Good choice on the steel. I bet you could easily give even the most skilled swordman some difficulty. How long have you had it?" he asked before turning around to seat himself at the anvil, placing the cleaver down gently. "Oh, and If you would not mind, would you spar with me? I do love observing how adventurers like yourself fight. I would learn myself, but It's my responsibility to take care of this place, so I take what I get on occasions like this one." he sighs, gesturing to the room and roof over his head.

"Oh, pardon me. I'll get to fixing your machete right up." he said, moving over to the grinding wheel. He stepped on the pedal and began to sharpen the blade.

"So, you said you had some stories to tell? I am interested!" he said loudly over the clanky noise.

 

[Lord Blackwell]

Fritz Erlain

The old explorer huffed at the mention of nobility. It was a subject he was well familiar with, and perhaps for the wrong reasons.

"Thank you, young Fritz. It's that exact reason why we're shunned by most other noble families in Alliria, if not Arethil as a whole. The entire purpose of nobility is to serve as an example to the people, and what good is that if you're simply so standoffish and rude."

Blackwell leaned against the wall next to the counter, taking another puff from his pipe.

"Apologies for bubbling around against the other nobles, but they're rather a nuisance on occasion, our family tries not to mind them too much. About the blade, it's been in my family for generations, since before my great uncle William. Gods rest his soul, The Herald called him when he decided to map the Ixchel Wilds, and was the third of the Blackwells to be claimed by the forest. I suppose all it's been through has done a great deal in strenghtening it."

Lord Blackwell put a hand on his bicep and flexed it with a smile.

"Though Blackwell strength certainly doesn't hurt it. I'd be willing to spar with you after the work is complete, if you can find suitable weapons at least, so we don't end up killing each other. As for stories, you can take your pick of a few. There was the murder that happened in the caravan crossing Amol-Kalit, or perhaps something from my military days like the time my comrade and I encountered a Krakarl in the Asherah Ocean, or maybe the time I was very near poisoned by an Orc family attempting subterfuge."

A smoke ring flew through the air as the noble smiled at Fritz, eager to tell any one of the stories. He usually simply went off and told one, but this was one of the rare times he had the presence of mind to ask permission first.

"So, which one will it be, my lad?"

 

[Fritz Erlain]

Fritz Erlain

The old explorer huffed at the mention of nobility. It was a subject he was well familiar with, and perhaps for the wrong reasons.

"Thank you, young Fritz. It's that exact reason why we're shunned by most other noble families in Alliria, if not Arethil as a whole. The entire purpose of nobility is to serve as an example to the people, and what good is that if you're simply so standoffish and rude."

Blackwell leaned against the wall next to the counter, taking another puff from his pipe.

"Apologies for bubbling around against the other nobles, but they're rather a nuisance on occasion, our family tries not to mind them too much. About the blade, it's been in my family for generations, since before my great uncle William. Gods rest his soul, The Herald called him when he decided to map the Ixchel Wilds, and was the third of the Blackwells to be claimed by the forest. I suppose all it's been through has done a great deal in strenghtening it."

Lord Blackwell put a hand on his bicep and flexed it with a smile.

"Though Blackwell strength certainly doesn't hurt it. I'd be willing to spar with you after the work is complete, if you can find suitable weapons at least, so we don't end up killing each other. As for stories, you can take your pick of a few. There was the murder that happened in the caravan crossing Amol-Kalit, or perhaps something from my military days like the time my comrade and I encountered a Krakarl in the Asherah Ocean, or maybe the time I was very near poisoned by an Orc family attempting subterfuge."

A smoke ring flew through the air as the noble smiled at Fritz, eager to tell any one of the stories. He usually simply went off and told one, but this was one of the rare times he had the presence of mind to ask permission first.

"So, which one will it be, my lad?"

"I believe....the Krakarl. That sounds very interesting. A sea beast, by virtue of name?" he asked, arching an eyebrow. "Wait, before you start, if I may I attempt to be perceptive, is it your intention to map and chart the...what did you call it? Ixchel Wilds? It would indeed fit a man of your chosen, umm, well...can't really find the word. Trade is not appropriate for your stature, pastime seems too small, I guess Lifestyle would be best, huh?" He asked. "Sorry, I ramble sometimes." He finished sheepishly before turning to the anvil to pound any imperfections out of the ancestral blade.

"No, ya know what, this looks like It's about finished, so I'll ask you this. I'm sure you have many more stories to tell. As long as I an keep up with you in a fight, you tell your tales to me. Would you use your heirloom or should I provide you with a blade. I have a couple of regular swords in the back if you'd like!" he said, handing the machete back by the hilt.

"So, shall we?" he remarked.

Lord Blackwell

 

[Lord Blackwell]

Fritz Erlain

The noble inhaled, getting ready to regale the story of the Krakarl's nigh fatal assault on his precious ship. He listened to the boy ramble, and was thoroughly reminded of himself on occasion. He thought about the Wilds, a goal mentioned in most Blackwell published books. It's something the boy would have no doubt picked up on if he really read any.

"No problem at all, young Fritz, I've been known to go on and on myself occasionally. I wouldn't mind sparring with you a bit, and certainly wouldn't mind telling you my tales while we do so. Do you have any wooden swords though, perhaps? I wouldn't want either of us to get hurt after all, unless your blades have some sort of protection magic placed on them?"

The Noble took Blackwell's Bite and sheathed it, surprised at how quick the Smith worked with how quality the blade came out. His skill was incredible for an apprentice, no doubt, but he wasn't sure if the boy was good enough of a fighter to avoid injury without safeguard. It was yet to be seen at least.

 

[Fritz Erlain]

Fritz Erlain

The noble inhaled, getting ready to regale the story of the Krakarl's nigh fatal assault on his precious ship. He listened to the boy ramble, and was thoroughly reminded of himself on occasion. He thought about the Wilds, a goal mentioned in most Blackwell published books. It's something the boy would have no doubt picked up on if he really read any.

"No problem at all, young Fritz, I've been known to go on and on myself occasionally. I wouldn't mind sparring with you a bit, and certainly wouldn't mind telling you my tales while we do so. Do you have any wooden swords though, perhaps? I wouldn't want either of us to get hurt after all, unless your blades have some sort of protection magic placed on them?"

The Noble took Blackwell's Bite and sheathed it, surprised at how quick the Smith worked with how quality the blade came out. His skill was incredible for an apprentice, no doubt, but he wasn't sure if the boy was good enough of a fighter to avoid injury without safeguard. It was yet to be seen at least.

"I can see your surprise at my efficiency. It's evident on your face. The damage was mostly superficial, except for the chips and so, so it was a quick fix." he explained. "Oh! I don't have any swords made of wood. Their lightness would not make good practice for using a heavier metal blade." he told him.

"I am fine with my metal one and am sure you have no intent to kill me, so I shall not try to do so. We'll go til either I surrender or you. Is that fair?" he said, executing a quick set of moves to warm himself up. "Oh wait, silly me. Neither of us probably expected this today, so can we do a practice round?" he asked, moving to position.

Lucky for Fritz, 'position' meant in front of a bench. He sat down and waited. "Tell me when you are ready!"