Thread: The Wolf, the Forge, and Love Forbidden - Raivh & Abovetheroses

The moon was half full overhead in the clear and starry night sky. It was a brisk evening, not quite winter, but he could feel its cool kiss on the back of his neck, hear the whisper of snow in his ears. From what he could tell, it was going to be a long and brutal one compared to the mildness of last year. Ahren shifted his the weight of his large form against the butt of his wooden stool as he leaned forward, one elbow against his knee to stabilize the long metal blade in his hand. He could see his reflection in the silver glean that kicked off the freshly polished long sword. His beard was long, stopping just at his chest, and he kept the coarse brown hairs knotted off in two sections. From the black tie at the base of his chin dangled a small charm. Many in this stronghold believed he wore the emblem as a symbol of strength and courage, lacking all fear for the danger that lurked beyond its stone walls. Staring into his likeness, he noticed the scar over his right eye seemed more prominent today. The color of his irises were like his mother's, a blue-gray, like an overcast sky reflected over an iced lake. His hide was tanned like the deer he skinned daily to fashion light armor, boots, and clothing for some of the hunters. Master Ahren, said a boy, no more than thirteen, as he approached the blacksmith. The boy was an orphan. His father had fallen in battle three years ago, and his mother, mourning the death of her husband, had grown sick and frail. She passed not long after the boy's father. Ahren had taken him under his wing in an apprenticeship, and the lad had done well to learn everything he'd been taught so far. Ahren had heard the boy before he'd set foot back in the shop holding an armload of firewood. Rinan, Ahren greeted the boy in a deep, rough voice. There was a faint but friendly smile behind the whiskers on Ahren's face. Put that down. Rinan quickly dropped the logs into the pile of lumber stacked a few feet from the forge. The entirety of the shop, although mostly outdoors, was covered by a roughly constructed lean-to and partial wall toward the back, which connected to the store that doubled as Ahren's living quarters. It was the heat of the forge that kept it warm enough for them to work year-round. Everything they crafted throughout the day, from simple pieces to aid townsfolk, to tools for working the land, swords, shields, and armor, was kept inside of the underground storage. If any thief wanted to test his hand at stealing from the town blacksmith, he was liable to lose it. Ahren was known for keeping mostly to himself, except for business exchanges and the boy he mentored. Take this and put it in its sheath, he said, rising to his feet to hand the sword off to Rinan. The curly haired boy grabbed the sword by the hilt and disappeared inside. Ahren glanced around at the street outside of his shop. There were few wandering around now. A few guards wandered about, stumbling here and there and laughing amongst each other. After the guards had drifted out of view, Ahren could see two dark figures standing in an alley across the way. He watched them carefully, and when he gave them a nod, they approached. Neither of the men seemed comfortable to be walking the streets. Ahren. The man who spoke first was just about Ahren's height. His physique was slightly leaner than Ahren's, but still toned and provided plenty of evidence he wouldn't be downed easily in a fight. The second man was shorter than both of the other men but younger as well. Ahren stared at the two men standing just two feet from him, close enough he could hear them breathing. What are you two doing here? he asked, his voice near a growl, the question almost a slight. Watch your tongue, said the second man through gritted teeth as he began to step forward. The first man held up an arm and pressed the palm of his hand firmly against the younger man's chest, forcing him to take a step back. His head turned slightly away from Ahren, and his eyes shifted to the other man. Alden, what the tone lacks, our brother speaks out for our safety. Alden settled and crossed his arms loosely across his chest and leaned against one of the shop's posts. Ahren, they've captured Elise. They're holding her for but a few days before they'll tie her to a stake and burn her, flog her, rape her, or just out right kill her. Ahren stiffened. He could feel his throat become thick and swell at what he'd just been told. His jaw became taut and he turned his eyes away from the man before staring him down. And what would you have me do, Aldred? Father's the one who sold me to the last Lord of this fortress. That Lord is dead. The only reason I'm alive is because I was kept a secret by that Lord and the master who made me his apprentice. Both are dead, the Lord's sons are dead. I was the Lord's pet, and now I am a slave to this Lord and his house. Growing red in the face, Aldred reached out and grabbed the front of Ahren's shirt in one swift motion. Our father is dead, too, and as fate would have it by the very weapons you craft. The ax that beheaded him was of the very same workmanship as the trap that took Elise. Ahren shoved Aldred away and anger flashed over his features. That is not my concern, he spat at his kin. Perhaps if you had spoken out against father, none of us would be in this predicament, nor the Lord sitting comfortably at his table alive to choke on the very meat he chews. Ahren whipped his hand back, gesturing to the noble's keep. A guttural growl worked its way from deep in the pit of Alden's stomach as he approached his brother, chest-to-chest. You won't speak to him as you are, Ahren, or I'll tear your words from your throat. Alden! Aldred snarled at his youngest brother, but the hot-headed man refused to back down. He stood still, stubborn and ignoring his eldest brother. Listen to your leader, little brother, Ahren snapped lowly, donning a smirk, staring at Aldred without ever bothering to look down at Alden, though one large hand had clapped over his younger brother's shoulder. Because if I cry wolf, those guards that passed by will come running with their comrades, and then you'll both burn at the stake with your beloved Elise. Aldred reached forward, grabbing Alden's other shoulder, and pried him away from Ahren. One day you'll return to your kind, Ahren. You know what you do is not right, no matter the wrong that father did. He did it for us all. He had no choice. He had a choice, Ahren retorted, turning away from his brothers. If you're lucky, this Lord will spare her. Perhaps he'll take her into his bed and enjoy her for a time before he kills her. Aldred's expression was solemn as he looked upon Ahren's back. With a shake of his head, his hand slid from Alden's shoulder, and he muttered an order for his youngest brother to follow him. Reluctantly, Alden did as he was commanded and ran off, across the street, and vanished down the alley they'd first appeared in. Standing in front of the door to his home, Ahren kept his eyes trained on the noble's keep for a moment as the wind began to pick up. Then, he opened the door and closed it behind himself to prepare for sleep and another day. Tomorrow was the day the Lord's eldest son was to begin preparing for the hunt. Ahren walked toward the wooden table where Rinan sat, slurping on a bowl of stew and soaking up some of the broth with a chunk of dry bread. On the table where Ahren usually sat, beside the bowl Rinan had set out for him along with a sizable tankard of ale, was a letter. The red wax seal had been broken. It had come the day before, a request for Ahren to personally deliver the sword that rested near the hearth in an intricate leather sleeve. Exhausted from a day of hard labor, Ahren sunk into the wooden bench across from Rinan and slowly ate from the bowl of stew before him. His gaze was fixated on the scrolling writing that stood out so starkly against the parchment. Do you have your clothes ready for the morning, boy? Ahren asked, talking around a mouthful of bread as he looked across the table to his apprentice. Rinan nodded, and Ahren looked back down as he drowned a chunk of bread. Good.