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Re: Thorin Brothers
the rhythmic beating of of my hammer on steel still is a sweet escape to me. It helps to keep the animal dormant inside of me until the sun falls. Night is when I let the beast out. It has been two months since my brother was injured. The longest time we have been apart from each other since we both awoke on the isles of the north. With so many years spent traveling together I really don't know much else to do other than to forge during the day and hunt at night. The Fury has tried to get me to come out of my solitude but to no avail. It just doesn't seem right to shed blood with others when my brother isn't here. The send one brave soul every day to try and get me to at least go on a patrol with them. I wonder whose turn it is today. I hope it is someone smart enough to just ask and accept my polite answer of no in silence.
I hear a stumbling outside between hammer strikes and hope that it is not who I am assuming it is.
"hey uh...Thurston...Jayne wanted me to ask if you would go on patrol with us" Caboose timidly asks. I still dont know why Jayne thought it a good idea to send the person who laid my brother in his current state but i will still answer in my same fashion.
for some reason Caboose must have found courage this morning and was dumb enough to not just walk away. "Come on Thurston, i said im sorry and there is no reason for you to stay cooped up in here all the time. we can use your spear and shield. we need all we can spare. this doesnt help Az at all and what good is it if there is no world for him to wake up to?" at least his attempt was half way decent...I slowly put down my hammer and my shoulders slump as if signaling a resigning to his reason. i hear him stand up straighter as if to claim his victory just as a dagger from my belt flies past his head and sticks in the door support of my tent. he shrieks and before he head is back to me i am in front of him, another dagger drawn and pressed against his throat.
"tell me Caboose, what gives you the right to say what helps and what doesn't? Hmm? how many of our enemies has your spear tip claimed in the past week? 2...3...lets even be adventurous and say 5. now lets add that in to the total that the Fury has slain. that brings a grand total of 20 orcs, goblins, and other vermin the Fury has slain in seven days." i slowly turn his head to the corner of my tent, forcing his neck to drag across the blade drawing a rose colored line in his flesh as each layer slowly separates from the other. "there are at least 30 weapons laying in that pile of scrap i am using to make my crafts. every one of them taken from a slain piece of scum that i have hunted. And that pile is just from last night."
"We havent found many enemies during our patrols"
I throw him to the ground and place my boot on his neck, "and why my courageously stupid friend do you think that is? Because when the enemy cant seem to figure out why entire patrols and raiding parties go missing and only blood is found where they used to be after a week or so of that how many of them do you really feel eager to go out into the night? I am the reason this camp has enjoyed its respite from battle these few months. so do not presume to come into this tent and say i am not helping the cause." i lift my boot and walk back to my anvil. i place the steel back into my forge to reheat it as caboose gets up and heads to the door of my tent. "oh and corporal...every time you step into my tent from now on that scratch on your neck will get just a bit deeper."
i hear a shuffle outside my tent again and then footsteps leading away. i crack a half smile and go to the door and pick up what was left for me. a good size piece of meat, a few berries and a large mug of ale. Varg seems to be the only one to really understand to leave me to my peace. He brings whatever his fresh kill was from the morning and some other scraps of food and a mug of ale the same time every day. I will admit, his deliveries have been a welcome change to my routine. i eat the food and drink most of the ale, i pour the remaining out over my brothers shield, every time trying to encourage him with a taste of the sweet honey brew to entice him to wake up from where ever he has gone.
A sentry sounds the alert horn, someone or something is approaching. i slowly start to gather my weapons as i hear a shouting...
"OI! I swear to all that is holy to any of you bastards inside this camp if any one of you hits me again ill cut your balls off and feed them to you. And bring me the jackass that hit me, ill be merciful and just beat him to an inch of his life with my hands instead of my club!"
for the first time in two months a full smile returns to my face. I replace my weapons and pick up my hammer.
Brother will find me soon enough.
Master-At-Arms - Fury of the Called
Black Dog Clan
"Vires et Decus"
"Teach by example, if your student does not survive then he was not worthy of the lesson"
11/18/2010, 11:20 am
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