riotpopper
Gold
- Joined
- Sep 11, 2012
- Location
- California
(Just a little typing practice. Will be typing more later if people want more. And yes, I understand I am not the best writer, sorry for any mistakes.)
Forge of the True Masters
Forge of the True Masters
The sparks bursting forth from the twisted strip of heated iron tumbled across his grim visage. His hammer came down with powerful swings, folding the metal, bending the element to his own will. Within inches of his body the flames of the forge danced the same beautiful dance they always have, and always will. Wrapping around the timber and charcoal the flames lick and nip at the cool evening's air with the ferocity of a howling gale. All that can be heard is the pounding of hammer to metal as the man slaved away on his newest blade. The focus and determination visible in his eyes by the orange glow of the dancing inferno.
As the metal molded with his swings he lifts the strip off of his well-used anvil and brought it to a small bucket of water to temper the blade. As man once again tames the Earths elements, it let's out a final hiss before surrendering to it's new master, the Blacksmith known as Eldrin. With a sigh he pushes the blade into a small chest, his project postponed for the night as he yields to the temptations of a good nights sleep. Stepping out of his forge he takes in the cool night's air before heading off in the dark towards his home. The soil and detritus from the nearby forest crunch and crumble below his feet, the only other sound pervading the air besides his own voice, singing a quiet melody.
“The Sparrow sings to the moon tonight.
He sings his heart, his soul.
He sings to the coolness that stills the night.
His one wish to finally be whole.”
His song trails off as a large outline is visible through the trees. His home, lightly illuminated in the moon's graceful radiance. With a happy sigh he steps forward, reaching for the door before stepping back, his visage turned grim. Judging from the marks across the floor leading to his home, he is not the only man seeking refuge in this home tonight. Readying his own small hammer he kicks in the door with a shout, his deep bellow echoed throughout the silent forest as the door gave in to his powerful kick. What was revealed caused the man to recoil, his blood turning cold, his fears come true.
As the metal molded with his swings he lifts the strip off of his well-used anvil and brought it to a small bucket of water to temper the blade. As man once again tames the Earths elements, it let's out a final hiss before surrendering to it's new master, the Blacksmith known as Eldrin. With a sigh he pushes the blade into a small chest, his project postponed for the night as he yields to the temptations of a good nights sleep. Stepping out of his forge he takes in the cool night's air before heading off in the dark towards his home. The soil and detritus from the nearby forest crunch and crumble below his feet, the only other sound pervading the air besides his own voice, singing a quiet melody.
“The Sparrow sings to the moon tonight.
He sings his heart, his soul.
He sings to the coolness that stills the night.
His one wish to finally be whole.”
His song trails off as a large outline is visible through the trees. His home, lightly illuminated in the moon's graceful radiance. With a happy sigh he steps forward, reaching for the door before stepping back, his visage turned grim. Judging from the marks across the floor leading to his home, he is not the only man seeking refuge in this home tonight. Readying his own small hammer he kicks in the door with a shout, his deep bellow echoed throughout the silent forest as the door gave in to his powerful kick. What was revealed caused the man to recoil, his blood turning cold, his fears come true.
