Sacred Blacksmith

Thread Hijack // Sacred Blacksmith

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Between where this thread’s main character, along with her party, currently are now and the Village of the Moon lays a Mystical Bog. It exists as an eerie and quirky place of magic that manifests itself once someone enters into its realm. For the sake of simplicity, the realm would intersect whatever road is taken. Once entered, the atmosphere would change causing the available light to dim while casting a purple tint over most of the forest. Fireflies would rise from the forest shrubbery and dimly illuminate areas of the forest in patches. With the decreased visibility and a small rolling laying of smoke like mist that wouldn’t rise more than half a foot from the ground, the forest path would become a maze with an annoying indication of such being the realization that you’ve passed the same tree several times already. Trees would surround on all sides, and though there was no real danger, the overall mood of the area would be creepy.

Thread Hijack // Sacred Blacksmith

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Out of the fog, a form starts to appear. It starts off dark and hazy at first, but after a while it could be told that whatever was coming in their direction was short. After a few more paces allows the visual of a little old woman with a rag tied over her hair in a tattered brown dress walking with a walking stick coming out of the mist. The woman walked as if a ghost in a sea of spirits. She doesn’t make immediate eye contact with anyone in the party, but she would be walking in their direction.

She stops before she reaches any of them and then looks over the group. She speaks to them, “this old woman is terribly thirsty. Would one of you possibly have some water that they can share with this old hag?”

On closer observation its apparent why the old woman had not made eye contact with any of them; her eyes were gazed over revealing that she appeared to be blind.

Thread Hijack // Sacred Blacksmith

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In a very creepy and eerie manner, the old lady’s head tilts almost all the way to the side as her curious blind gaze looks to the one who called her a ghost. In a manner that seemed like was making the same creaking noise as an old door hinge, the old woman’s attention returns to the leader of the party. An aged and wrinkled hand comes up and takes the bottle of water. She wastes no time in drinking all of it, tilting her head all the way back with her throat gulping in rhythmic second intervals until the water was completely gone. A few lingering drops would drip into her open mouth until there was an awkward nothing coming out. Finally the old woman would close her mouth and tilt it back to look at the boy who had given her the water. “For your good service, I bless you with good endowment…” Her hand waves and the boy’s crotch glows with a brilliant and shiny gold aura. Forever more, he would easily be able to please any woman who came into his bed chambers; he was truly blessed. The old woman looks to the party leader and says, “I know what it is that you seek. Your heart will either lead you to it, or away from it. You will face many trials before you leave this forest; godspeed.” The old woman would turn and look to the area in front of their path. Two forest trails would open at a Y junction. Her voice croaks, “Who woods these are, I think I know… his house lies in the village though… he will not see me stopping here… to watch his woods fill up with snow…” With that, snow would begin to fall down one path and rain the other; they would have to choose which path they took. If they looked back to the woman, they would notice that she was no longer a woman, but a wooden statue.

Thread Hijack // Sacred Blacksmith

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Both paths remain opened awaiting the travels to make their decision of which one they would traverse. After choosing a path, new options would open up based on which way they went. If they were to go into the first path, they would be in a forest seemingly in the middle of a fierce storm. If they proceeded down the snowy path, they would begin their trek down a gentle snowing scene in the forest. There would be dull footprints in the sand that seemed as if a horse and carriage had come through about an hour ago.

Thread Hijack // Sacred Blacksmith

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Elsewhere

The path of snow would be an illusionary portal. Beyond the short path of snow, and through an opaque portal there was a simple forest path that lead the way to a village with basked in the radiant light of the day existing in a clearing in the forest. It would be a small village consisting of just over a dozen or so houses consisting of cob, wood and clay but towards the rear of this village stood a dome like smithy consisting of stones and brick. Within this short semi spherical structure sat a weathered figure resting in a simple four legged wooden chair with his path towards a barren and cold hearth.

The sitting figure had its arms folded with his head tucked into his chest. Several golden markings covered the darkly tanned body of the smithy that seemed to either be resting or meditating. For no apparent reason, his head lifts up and he looks straight forward. His harsh and raspy voice calls out, “Reginald!” A frown graces the smith’s face as he waits with his arms folded. Shortly after, as if on cue, a skinny lad comes rushing into the doorway, only his speed is too much for the way he wished to stop, so he ends up rolling past the door. Crawling back to the entrance, he holds the side of the open doorway and begins to pull himself up, “yes, master…?!” Seemingly irritable, the smith speaks, “we have customers on the way… prepare the hearth.”

There is an awkward silence as the one dubbed Reggie pauses to look around and says, “master, the village is barren… there’s no one around…” The frown intensifies as the question comes, “do I pay you to think, or to do?” A very confused regional dusts himself off as answers, “but I don’t get pai…” He is cut off by a spinning hammer to the head. Reginald’s right foot lifts as his body leans back before he falls on his back completely. Now up in an ‘after throw’ stance, the smith says, “hurry up and get to it…” Pulling his ghost back down and into his body, Reggie answers, “hai… master…~”

Thread Hijack // Sacred Blacksmith

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A deep and flowing warmth would flow out from the smithy, seemingly flowing throughout the village. The smithy’s hut would be the only thing that seemed to have activity going on in it; there was an aura proceeding from it that seemed strong and almost magical.

As the group entered into the village, a young man holding a large bag of assorted metals would come running in from stage right. Distracted, he would almost run past them taking a turn towards the smithy at an area paces before them, but at the last moment, an exclamation point would flicker over his head and he would turn and look to them.

“Oh wow…” he would murmur lightly, “you did come. I guess the old man isn’t going crazy just yet.” There would be a sound of wind cutting the air and the young man, Reggie, would duck as a steel pipe would go spinning over his head and either past the group of people or into an unlucky victim. Standing back up, holding his hand over his head which had almost been hit, he would say, “oh shit, he’s antsy, got to go!”

With that, a puff cloud would trail comically behind his movements towards the smithy where the blacksmith would be inside.

Thread Hijack // Sacred Blacksmith

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“Come in come in,” the smithy would answer without an actual question being asked when the hand comes to push his door open. He continues, “I’ve been expecting you, it’s not nice to keep the elderly waiting you know.” His back would be towards them as he was in the process of preparing items about the blacksmith’s shop. After things were in order, he turns around to face the door to see what had come through it. His eyes come upon the blonde, and then drop to the blade that was in her hand. A frown graces his lips as he notices how dull it had become. Looking back up to her, he figured that formalities might as well be gotten out of the way as he speaks, “go ahead and introduce yourself and your purpose for being here.”

Thread Hijack // Sacred Blacksmith

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With her words, the blacksmith would know what needed to be done. "Well, I am the one you are looking for. I can do what must be done and I will end the blade's weeping." He dusts off his hands onto the blacksmith’s apron he was wearing. The warmth from the fire would wrap about the room with his body blocking out a portion of it, bringing light to just how hot the furnace was when she stepped between her and it. He approaches her and reaches out for the blade, for her to give it to him. During this, he would let her know, “I must work in privacy and for a blade like this, and it may take me at least 12 hours to perform the work. The village has many empty houses, so entertain yourself until the morning and come see me then. It will be then that your blade will be completed.”

Thread Hijack // Sacred Blacksmith

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With the door closed, the sword would go on a wonderful journey that would, as the smithy said, last a full 12 hours.

Of course, the morning was more than 12 hours away, but in the gaps that would exist between said time period and the morning, the blacksmith would do random things like rest, meditate and channel his essence in order to do the best job possible. There was even a moment where he cuddled with the blade unable to hold back due to the sheer beauty of his abilities; nothing creepy, just a little tender loving to etch that much umph into his workmanship.

Still, after much heat, banging, and sweating, the blacksmith would finally be done come morning time. With the advent of the morning, the door would slowly open, revealing a radiant light. The sword would be resting on top of a wooden work bench with the blacksmith sitting in a chair, breathing heavily, spent from the hard work and mana depletion that he had endured. On sight of his customer, he would exhale and speak, it is done all I require for payment is a golden rod They would have gotten one already from their journey.