A Cold Coincidence: Part I (Solo)

[SirArtemis]

Artemis had only just crossed the borders to the area of Salvar and already began to feel the icy chill of the air billowing down the mountains. The cold air tumbled down as an avalanche of its own, pushing against him as he walked his path. Despite the chill, his visage remained stoic. Trudging along, he found himself lost in his thoughts that he could not escape.

As he walked, he ran his thumb over the engraving on one of his daggers. With the blade pulled out of his sheath barely more than an inch, his thumb found its place over the word "VIRTUE" which was etched by that very same hand merely years ago. His whole life seemed to have been a cover-up. A life lived amidst a lie, a secret. One that Artemis had inconveniently uncovered on his twenty-third birthday.

His father was a smith, and a killer. He was a weapon that created weapons, both for him and for others. Artemis himself had taken up the craft, apprenticing for his father. He had a passion for working metal, and created himself two wonderful steel daggers as a reminder to the beauty of metal.

The day he uncovered his father's awful secret, the conflict escalated into a vicious melee that could have ended terribly. Within their own home, blades clashed with hammer until finally Artemis had come out victorious. As he stood over his father's panting body, bloody cuts all over, he showed something that he was convinced his father must not have: mercy. He packed up his things, and took one last look at his father, who was now resting on his elbow and looking up at his son with a profound sadness. Artemis' rage blinded him from seeing that sadness, and he spoke one last thought before walking out the door forever: "Pray that we do not meet again."

Artemis packed his things and left with no particular direction in mind. Before leaving, he returned to his father's smithy and etched two words to remind him of the conflict he would always face. On his right blade, he etched the word "VIRTUE" and on the left, "VIOLENCE." He would never forget that the path of virtue sometimes requires blood to be spilled.

Since that day, he found a strange comfort in feeling the engravings on his blade; a strange serenity that he could not begin to understand. It was so subconscious that he was not even aware of when he was doing it. Yet he was doing it now. Walking through the bitter cold, even his closed off heart could feel the chill.

Suddenly, Artemis stopped. He had always prided himself in his intuition, and that same intuition was telling him now that something was out of place. He looked around, taking in the full panorama of the beautiful view. Everything was a fresh powder of white, with the only trace of disruption being his very own steps. It was still early in the season, and the white blanket was thin, but the effect remained moving. With the mountains to the south and the open expanse to the north, along with his destination of Knife's Edge, it was as if a border had been drawn between himself and his past life. As he turned toward the mountains, something caught his eye. He spotted a small spire of smoke not too far off. It could be no more than a mile. The sun was beginning to set, and it would make sense to make camp soon anyway. Artemis turned toward the camp and decided to approach. However, he could not shake the feeling that something was out of place. He remained cautious, some would say bordering paranoid. Nevertheless, from experience, he knew that it was better to be safe than sorry.

Approaching with caution, Artemis squinted off as he approached the camp. He could see a figure sitting alone. The figure had long black hair pulled back into a braid. He also donned what looked like green armor of sorts. Artemis was remaining cautious. His intuition was telling him quite obviously that something still was very wrong here. He laid low and waited for a while to see if any others might arrive. After nearly an hour, he was convinced that this person was alone. However, they had not moved much. The individual sat close to the fire tossing in more wood without doing much else. Artemis decided to approach.

As he stepped close to the fire, he spoke into the dim of light over the crackle of burning embers.

"Hello?"

The face that turned towards him was not was he was expecting. What he had initially thought to be green armor was green skin! This was an orc! The orc growled at him and stood up quickly, lifting his crude battle-axe in his hands. As they made eye contact, and Artemis saw the red hue of the enraged orc's eyes, the orc began to charge.

In a bout of panic, Artemis tossed his pack to the side, took his stance, and pulled out his daggers. Artemis was no novice to fighting, but most if his battles were mostly sparring. He had never really been in a life or death situation. Even if you counted the fight with his father, there wasn't any proof that his father would have killed him had Artemis lost.

Well, there wasn't any time to think about that now. Blades in hand, Artemis waited. If there was one thing his mentor Hawk had taught him it was that one must always remain collected in battle. Allowing rage or emotions to control you would result in making avoidable mistakes.

Artemis simply dodged and parried for the first few attacks, getting a feel for his new opponent. The orc was strong, and it was clear that he had a considerable amount of endurance. The orc's muscles were very refined, more so than Artemis had ever seen within his own travels. With every parry, Artemis' hands would ring, and numbness from both the cold and vibrations implied that time was not on his side. Then again, he was near a fire and moving around a bit. Maybe some movement would warm him up.

Then an idea donned on him. He tried to put the fire between himself and his opponent. Not only would that allow him to warm his hands in the midst of battle, which seemed crazy in itself, but it would also help Artemis see his opponent more clearly. He slowly backed toward the flame and then strafed, carefully putting the fire between himself and his opponent. As he did so, he could see a disgusting grin appear on the orc's face. Though he wasn't sure why the orc was grinning, his intuition told him that it'd be best to finish this quickly.

Just then, he spotted something on the orc's body. There were bandages around his abdomen, and though they were painfully obvious in the light of the fire, the blood-soaked bandages were as dark as his green skin when hidden from light, and nearly impossible to notice. Artemis kneeled, lowering his left dagger into the heat of the fire. As he did so, the orc stalked closer. Carefully placing the tip of the dagger under a large coal, he waited for the orc to get within range. As the orc finally came within a few feet, Artemis lifted the coal and flung it at the orc. He had not intended for it to do any damage, but it was enough to distract the orc so that Artemis could throw his dagger at the wound. The blade easily cut through the bandges on his abdomen, opening the wound anew. The orc howled in rage as he removed the dagger and threw it off to the side. Now with only one blade in hand, Artemis was again trying to simply tire the orc. With him losing as much blood as he was, there was no way he could maintain his speed and strength for long. Sooner or later, he would tire, and that's when Artemis would strike. Artemis was young, fit, and well trained. Hopping around like this was nothing compared to his grueling training with Hawk.

After no more than ten minutes of playing cat and mouse, the orc's strength wavered. He was fading in and out of consciousness. Artemis took advantage of the orc's slowing to move around the camp to retrieve his other dagger. Artemis could sense that his chance to attack was imminent. As Artemis approached, the orc collapsed, one hand holding his battle-axe, and the other clutching his wound.

As the orc lay on the ground, Artemis remained cautious. He carefully approached, stepped on the flat of the battle-axe that now lay on the ground, and kicked the arm that gripped it. The orc was unconscious, so Artemis was able to kick away the crude weapon. He then quickly knelt down and cut the throat of the orc, being sure to back away as soon as he had done so.

The orc, suddenly revived from his unconsciousness, clutched at his throat as the blood gurgled out, trying to stifle the blood flow. The pure rage in those red-tinted eyes frightened Artemis, despite his distance between himself and the orc, and knowing that the orc was about to die. After a few moments, the eyes still locked on Artemis, the orc stopped moving. Artemis took a few deep breaths, trying to slow his heart rate and recover from the adrenaline-filled battle. After pillaging the body and gathering whatever he could, he let the fire burn out and remained near the coals until the first sign of light. He did not want the fire to give away his position, and was afraid that more orcs might arrive. He was grateful of his dark attire and hoped that it would hide him well enough that no one would see him near the coals.

The night continued on without any other disruption, and even Artemis' intuition remained silent. Everything seemed like it would be fine for now. But something still seemed out of place. Why would an orc be here alone, so far from Sulgoran's Axe? Artemis was sure that that was the location of the bulk of the orcs, and he heard that the barbarians were quite effective at holding them back. But Artemis was near the southern part of Salvar, near the border of Alerar. He was only a few days travel to Knife's Edge, the capital of Salvar.

Something seemed out of place. The wounds the orc had suffered before Artemis' arrival were bad enough, and it was clear to Artemis that he had gotten lucky. At the first sign of light, he doused the coals with some snow, packed his things, and left for Knife's Edge. These were going to be a challenging few days, but Artemis felt that he should inform the people of Knife's Edge of this incident, however minor it may seem. As a smith, Artemis knew that the smallest mistake could ruin the metal being worked. And he also knew that it was best not to brush little things off as "not a big deal," because sometimes, they were.

"Rather be safe than sorry. What a night."

With his back to the mountains and the cold air rolling down to push him forward on his journey, Artemis continued on towards Knife's Edge. A cold place named after a blade. What place could seem more perfect for the shattered Artemis Eburi. The man who no longer had a family.

[SirArtemis]

Artemis could see the massive city known as Knife's Edge from quite the distance. It was a remarkable sight. Even though Artemis was easily still a day's journey away, he could see the famous walls of Knife's Edge. He even thought that he saw some strange flickering above the city, but he had no idea what it could be. A bit wary, while still intrigued, Artemis rested his tired limbs. It had been an interesting few days, and he wanted nothing more than to be lost among the countless faces.

His small fire crackled, and he was relieved to have put some distance between himself and the orc's old camp. Of course, he knew he was not safe just yet, so he simply sat upright. The rest would be enough to get him to Knife's Edge, even though it wouldn't be the most refreshing night of his life. As he began to drift, the stories he had read about Knife's Edge began to flood his mind.

Not only was the city extremely populated with humans, but what truly excited Artemis were two of the other particular races that occupied the city. First, there were the dark elves. Artemis had only known one dark elf in his life and he was his mentor, Hawk. He was eager to see if there were any dark elves who were as skilled with dual wielding blades as Hawk was, and preferably more so. He truly wanted to train his skills further. His recent encounter with the orc, though not the most challenging, had still reminded Artemis of the very real dangers he is likely to face in the rough wild of Salvar. He had to continue working on his skills. Either that or he may find that the next time, he would be the one laying dead with his throat slit.

Shaking off the thought for a more pleasant one, Artemis reminded himself of the most exciting part of his visit: dwarves. Artemis had heard of legendary dwarven smiths. It seemed like they were masters of metal, almost as if they could speak to the metal and manipulate it in ways that one could only imagine in their dreams.

Artemis then realized that he was engaging in his most common habit, the rubbing of the engraving of his dagger. He pulled out the blade and leaned forward to let the light hit the hilt of the blade, where the engraving was. The bright flames flickered in the smooth, flawless surface of his blades. He was quite proud of the work he had done. These were his first true accomplishments, and he hoped they would not be his last. Perhaps a dwarf would apprentice him as a smith and a dark elf could become his new mentor!

"Heh."

Artemis couldn't help but smile. What pleasant thoughts. He knew they were just that, pleasant thoughts. Fantasies. He had heard the people of Knife's Edge weren't that quick to accept a newcomer. You can't be a resident of Salvar without being cautious, and he couldn't blame them for that. Of course, he could always try to win their favor, however long that took. It's not like he had a home to return to anyways. Home was wherever he chose, and that was the most wonderful aspect of his life right now.

He glanced off into the distance toward the city again. The sun was making its ascent, and another day was beginning. As he watched the sun rising in the East, slowly climbing over the horizon, he found himself at a loss. It was one of the most beautiful visions of his life. It looked as if the Gods themselves shone their golden light over the structures of Knife's Edge. With renewed vigor, Artemis gathered his things and set off. He had to speak with the watch. An orc this far away from the north couldn't be a coincidence, but Artemis knew he was new here. He may be overreacting.

"Oh well." Artemis Sighed, walking off in the direction of the city.

[SirArtemis]

As Artemis approached the incredible gates of Knife’s Edge, he felt an overwhelming reminder of how small he really was. Not just with respect to the massive walls of the city, but with respect to the world overall. It was a humbling thought, and one that was quickly interrupted.

“Name and purpose!”

The voice was strong and loud. As Artemis looked up, he could barely register the details of a man looking down at him.

“Artemis. I’m a traveler.”
“Where do you hail from?”
“I claim no home.”
“I didn’t ask you where your home was, I asked where you were coming from.”
“The South.”
“Do you really think that giving the gatekeeper attitude is going to get you inside of the city’s walls?”
“I’m not trying to give you attitude. I’m answering your questions.”
“You wait right there!”

As Artemis stood there, he wondered why the command was even necessary. He really had not intended to go anywhere unless the gates opened. There was nothing really out there for him, though he supposed he could survive if necessary.

The gate cracked open just enough for a tall man to slip through. He was a bit over six feet in height and was a muscular man by most people's standards with what looked to be the city’s uniform on. The helmet covered what was likely a head full of dark blonde hair to match his neatly-trimmed goatee. Artemis tilted his head slightly to the left as he looked over at the man’s longsword. From here, it seemed ordinary, so Artemis’ gaze fell back to the eyes of the gatekeeper.

“Look, Artemis was it?”
“Yes.”
“I have a lot of people coming by this gate trying to get into the city, and I find that the most suspicious are the ones who are too polite. But I do have to know where you are from. It’s simply protocol, for everyone’s safety. We take note of the name and origin of every person who visits the city.”
“Well, I’ve already told you my name. I’ve also told you where I’ve come from.”

The guard let out a sigh and crossed his arms.

“We need a location, not a direction Artemis. I understand that you claim no home, but you must have come from somewhere.”
“I came from nowhere in particular. If it appeases you, then simply put down Alerar or Raiaera. It’s only for records, and I doubt anyone verifies it. What does it matter where I’m from?”

The guard locked eyes with Artemis. As they stared at one another, Artemis maintained his resolve. He did not want to be associated with the village he was raised in. He had abandoned his surname, he had abandoned his family, and he had abandoned his home. He was a nobody, and he wanted to keep it that way.

With a grunt, the guard dropped his arms.

“Fine. Artemis of Alerar. I’ll let you into the city, but I will tell you one thing. If I as much as hear a whisper of you causing any trouble inside these walls, I will personally find you and drag you out of my walls by your collar. Is that understood?”

Artemis stared at the man, who was now pointing a finger into his face like a child, and simply nodded. With nothing more to be said between the two men, the guard stepped aside and watched as Artemis entered the city.

[SirArtemis]

Artemis was blown away by the bustle of the city. He could never have imagined men could make something this incredible. He had come from a small village with nothing more than simple homes, but what was before him left him speechless. What stood out the most was the massive structure he could see off in the distance. From what Artemis had read of Knife’s Edge, he had guessed the structure before him was St. Denebriel’s Cathedral. A beautiful structure of gray stone peppered with colored glass that Artemis had never seen before. He decided he would visit later.

For now, Artemis needed a meal. He had run out of rations the final night of his journey, and had not yet eaten this day. He saw a man sitting lopsided at the side of a building. The man looked tattered. Artemis couldn’t tell if he was asleep or drunk, or even both. He crouched by the man and spoke.

“Excuse me. Do you know where I could find a good meal? Perhaps the nearest tavern?”

The man’s only response was a grunt as he turned the other way.

“I guess he’s asleep. Middle of the day, and asleep on the side of a building. Okay then.”

Given the failed attempt at garnering information, Artemis decided to find a meal the old-fashioned way: look. He began wandering the streets and found that it was a dizzying experience. He could not keep track of his surroundings long enough to get his bearings. He would be in a beautiful district one moment, and the next he was in some dark alley. It was as if different neighborhoods had been cut into pieces and shuffled together into what now were simply the city streets.

Eventually, Artemis ended up in a marketplace. The place was moving at such a fast pace and buzzing with the voices of those engaged in barter. Artemis just stood in utter amazement. It seemed that every turn held an incredible surprise.

Artemis meandered down through the market, trying to remain in open spaces. He had remembered reading about thieves and some of their tactics. Find the unfamiliar face, bump into them, and use the diversion to pick the pocket. Artemis couldn’t afford to lose any of his money, so he kept one hand on his coin purse, and the other on his blade.

He found a little shop selling weapons with a dwarf behind the counter. He had an evenly trimmed reddish-brown beard and no mustache. His hair was a bit longer than his beard, at the top of which was a small ponytail. He wore plain merchant clothing. As Artemis approached the stall, he could see battle-axes, blades, shields and maces all constructed of varying metals. Artemis could see many of the metals used were of different color; some, he recognized, were different quality and durability. It was a mini-emporium and Artemis' excitement was clearly stamped upon his features.


“Excuse me! Did you craft these yourself?”
“Nope.”

Artemis' disappointment showed, and the dwarf was quick to notice. With a slight laugh, he continued.

“Me brother makes the weapons, and I sell ‘em”

Artemis lit up, his excitement rekindled.

“Does he have a smithy in the city? Could I meet him?”
“What for?”
“I wanted to ask him some questions.”
“About what?”
“Smithing. What else?”

The dwarf gave Artemis a glance up and down, and nodded.

“I tell yeh what. You give me that grungy lookin’ battle axe yer carryin’ there, and after I close shop later tonight, I’ll take ye to me brother’s shop. He’ll likely still be workin’ and ye can talk to him then.”
“Gladly!”

Artemis handed the dwarf the orc’s crude battle-axe without a second thought.

“So when will you be closing up the shop?”
“A few hours.”
“Well, until then, I should probably get something to eat. Is there a tavern nearby that I can go to?”
“Course. Taverns everywhere. Take your pick.”
“I have no idea where I’m going. This city is a maze. Any you recommend?”
“Well if it wasn’t already painfully obvious that ye weren’t from around here…”

The dwarf let out a resigned sigh.

“Go back that way. Go about a hunnerd paces, cut left, and go another hunnerd. You should find a cozy little shack that goes by the name of The Bearded Gnome.”
“Sounds… delicious. And what’s a hunnerd?”
“A number ye dern fool. One. Zero. Zero.”
“Oh, a hundred!”
“That’s what I said, hunnerd. I’ll wait for ye after I close. Don’t be late, I ain’t got all night. Now get goin, I got goods to sell!”
“Ok. I’ll see you in a few hours. Thanks again.”

Artemis hurried off to find this tavern. He counted exactly a hundred paces and turned left, only to find a few buildings in his way. He took a few steps back and glanced left and right. To his right, the houses continued on, but to his left, he found a street. Seemed pretty obvious which way to go. He took note that the dwarf liked to estimate. In this case, he had rounded up. A true salesman. Artemis couldn't help but grin.

As he walked down the street admiring the view, Artemis was amazed at how many different homes there were. It wasn’t just the quantity that shocked him, but the style as well. Each home had its own unique touch that made it stand out from the rest. It was as if the homes themselves had names and personalities. It was something that Artemis was not accustomed to.

Soon enough, he saw a wooden sign hanging over a door with an image of a little bearded creature.

“I guess that’s supposed to be a gnome.”

Artemis pushed open the door, and his jaw dropped at what he saw.

[SirArtemis]

Dwarves. Nothing but dwarves. Artemis was still trying to get over the shock of seeing his first dwarf, and then this! Red beards, black beards, silver beards and brown beards. Everyone had a beard, and everyone was short. He even thought he might have spotted a female dwarf with what looked like a beard! Artemis was accustomed to being one of the shortest in any given room, so this was a very different world. He felt like an absolute giant.

Aside from the occupants, the place was quaint; a quiet little place with no more than a dozen tables. There were two windows, one on either side of the door, each letting in only a few streams of light. The decor was all wood, from the tables to floor itself. It almost felt like you were inside of a tree. The only glimmer came from the gloss on the bar and the countless glass mugs hanging above it.

He walked towards the bar and sat down at a stool, still trying to acclimate himself to his new surroundings.

"What'll ye have?"

Artemis glanced up to see a grizzly looking dwarf with a beard as black as coal. Artemis couldn't even see his mouth. It was as if the voice was coming from the hair itself. Even more out of sorts, the beard split into two braids that were pulled back around and braided further into his long black hair. Other than that, he looked like any other barkeep, drying a large mug in his hands.

"Um, I suppose whatever's for dinner?"
"Any preference?"
"Not really, no. I haven't eaten today, so anything would be great."

With what Artemis had thought to be a grin, though he still couldn't distinguish facial features, the dwarf turned and gave a shout toward his left to a door in the corner of the bar.

"Oi! Get this lad some mead steak!"

Mead steak? Artemis had never heard of it, but his stomach was rumbling and he needed to get some food into it. He still had to figure out what to do about the orc he ran into, and he had his plans to meet with a dwarven smith later that same evening. Worse, he didn't even know where to begin, or if his orc concern would be laughed it. Remembering reading about dwarven fighting spirit, he decided he might as well start here.

"Excuse me?"
"Ay."
"This may be commonplace. I'm really not sure, which is why I bring it up. A couple days back, on my way over here, I came across an orc. He was just sitting by himself by a fire. I noticed an awful wound on his abdomen too."
"Did ye kill em?!"
"Um.. yes... I didn't really have much of a choice."
"Well then, a round on me lad!"

The barkeep poured a mug of ale and slammed it down in front of Artemis, foam spilling over the edges. Again, Artemis thought the dwarf might be grinning, but that darn beard made it impossible to tell. Reluctantly, Artemis responded with an embarrassed grin.

"I appreciate the gesture, I truly do. The thing is... I don't drink."

The dwarf's eyes went wide in horror. It was as if he had never heard of such a thing in his life. With a sudden look of realization, he put both hands on the bar and leaned quite close into Artemis' face.

"Did ye get hit on the head lad? It musta been the durn orc. I bet he hit ye good."
"Um... no actually. I'm fine. He never even hit me..."
"Never even hit ye! Pah! A lad after me own heart! The flawless orc slayer! Have a drink on... oh wait... no drinks... Well how about this then, a free dinner! Just tonight of course. I can't feed ye forever. An old dwarf would go outta business."
"I understand. Thanks very much. But the whole reason I brought it up was that it seemed out of place. An orc, travelling alone, with an awful wound and 2 or 3 days south of here?"

The dwarf looked a bit put off. He had begun cleaning anther mug, which he put down to speak.

"Two or three days out ye say? South of here? That does seem a bit out of sorts. They generally aren't that close by. But ye say you killed the only one, right?"
"I did, but I thought I'd bring it up anyways. I've learned not to assume that things are coincidence. I find assumption itself to be a dangerous game."

The dwarf nodded, as if in admiration that a young human could think in such a way.

"I tell ye what. There's a dwarf in here now who's part of the town watch. We'll see what he has to say about it."
"Okay."
"Oi! Rolvo! Could ye come 'ere a moment?"

A surly dwarf in the same uniform as the gatekeeper walked over, foam dripping from his brown beard. Different from the barkeep, this dwarf had a neatly trimmed beard, tied into one short braid in front. Artemis could even see this one's mouth!

"This lad has a story to share, and we were hopin' ye could shed some light on the events."
"I'll do what I can. What is it, lad?"

Artemis recounted the words he had told the barkeep only moments ago. Rolvo's response was hard to read. He simply sat there stroking his single braid.

"Well, we don't often hear of orcs south of here, so it is a bit out of sorts. Then again, a few days travel isn't that unreasonable. I think it'd be best to scout the area. Since you know where it was, would you mind helping out?"
"Um... sure... what would I have to do?"
"Well, be at the gate you came in through tomorrow soon after sunrise. I'll have a scouting party waiting for you. You lead the way and see what you can find. If it's of any concern, report back to me, and we'll figure out the next step."
"Okay. I can do that."
"Excellent. Best of luck to you then. I'll be needing another beer" Rolvo said, looking up at the barkeep with a grin.

The barkeep poured a large mug of beer for the surly dwarf, who then thanked the barkeep and grabbed the mug with a grin, walking off back towards his table.

"Well, got that settled. Here's yer dinner lad."

The barkeep placed the plate in front of Artemis. He had no idea what he was looking it. It was a pitch-black lump next to something that Artemis was at least familiar with, mashed potatoes.

"Why is it black?"
"It's the mead. We marinate the meat in our darkest ale and cook it slowly over an open fire. It's the sugars in the beer caramelizing. Cut into it, it's not black inside."

Artemis did as he was told and cut into the meat. As the teeth of the knife bit into the meat, he could see the pink and moist flesh of a beast. It let off a pleasant smell of sugars and spices that lingered in his nostrils. With a smile on his face, he cut off a piece and used his knife to place a bit of mashed potatoes onto the mead steak. He put the piece into his mouth, and he felt the filaments of the meat disintegrate in his mouth. The meat broke down and mixed with the potatoes, giving a delicious mix of sweet and savory as it rolled around in his mouth. He closed his eyes and chewed. As soon as he was done, he looked up and saw the dwarf, who let out a laugh. Again, Artemis wished he could discern facial features, because he knew the dwarf must have been smiling.

"You know, I read stories of how dwarves can work metal, but I never heard of anything about the amazing food."
"Yeah, well that's because you're missin' the common sense of it all lad! A smith's gotta eat too!"

With a shared laugh, Artemis cut off another bit of steak, and smiled. He was relieved. His journey thus far had been dangerous, lonely, and depressing. He hadn't had a good laugh in quite a while, and he was thankful of this black bearded dwarf. Perhaps life wouldn't be as miserable as Artemis had previously thought.

"So what's your name?"
"I go by Harki. And yerself?"
"Artemis."
"Well Artemis, what brings ye to a dwarven tavern?"
"A dwarf. Heh."
"Is it a dwarf ye're lookin' for then?"
"Oh, no. I meant a dwarf told me to come here. I met him at the marketplace. I'm supposed to meet up with him as the markets close up for the evening and go to meet his brother. I wanted to ask him a few questions, given that he's a dwarven smith, and I've never met one before."
"I see. Well, ye'll see a lot of dwarven smiths 'round this pub. I meself was once a pretty dern good one. However, not all of us specialize in the craft as ye can see. What were ye thinkin' of askin' him?"
"To be completely honest, I haven't quite figured that out yet. Ever since I read some of the legends of dwarven smiths, I've wanted to meet one. I'm somewhat of a smith myself, though not a master by any means. I made the weapons I use. Actually, maybe you could tell me what you think, since you are a dwarf, and you said so yourself that you know a bit about it."

As Artemis pushed aside his finished plate of steak and potatoes, he took out one of his blades and placed it on the bar in front of himself.

"I made them a few years back. I spent about a month on each blade, folding the metal over itself repeatedly, trying to raise its strength. I am not even sure whether my efforts were for naught, given that I had never seen a blade folded so many times. Then again, I'm stubborn when it comes to the craft. If there is any possibility that the hard work can make them better, then I don't mind putting in the work."

As Artemis spoke, Harki rolled the blade around in his rough hands. He felt the smooth steel and tested the sharpness of the edges. They still had quite a bite for blades several years old.

"Have ye used these much?"
"Not really, no. They were more of a personal trophy, but I've recently decided to put them to use. That orc I mentioned was the first blood I've spilled with them. Though I'm sure not the last."

Artemis had intentionally left out the fight with his father. He didn't want to talk about his past, and felt that this little lie wouldn't make him feel guilty in the long run. Besides, what did this dwarf care about some young human's petty grievances with family? He probably had his own problems.

"Ay, I hope it's not the last. Can never spill enough orc blood."

The barkeep handed the blade back to Artemis, who then sheathed the blade.

"So what do you think?"
"Well, it's not a bad blade; in fact, quite good when ye take into account yer age and race. The true test will come from use, as ye know. How long the blade remains sharp and retains its form will tell ye how well it's crafted. A dwarf could definitely teach ye a few things, don't ye doubt."
"Well that's something that I've thought about asking him. I was going to see if he would be willing to take me on as an apprentice. I'd love to learn more about the craft, even if it isn't much. From what I've heard, dwarves can also be quite stubborn, so I'm not sure how well that will go over."
"I tell ye what lad, if this dwarf gives ye any trouble then ye bring 'em here and we'll see if he changes his mind after we get a few drinks in 'em. Ye seem like a good kid, and definitely no novice to the art of smithin'. Since ye'll be helpin out the town tomorrow with yer scoutin' mission, come back here this evenin' and bring yer new friend, convince him to take ye on as an apprentice, and then get some sleep in a room upstairs. I'll help ye out since ye're helpin out me home."

Artemis gave a determined nod, and then let his gaze fall to the bar for a moment before looking back up at the barkeep.

"Well Harki, the meal was delicious. One of the best I've ever had, and I mean that. For now, I think I'm going to go have a seat outside and rest for a bit; let the food settle and all. I'll come back this evening with the dwarven smith if all goes well. Either that, or I'll show up alone. I'll see you then!"

The barkeep gave Artemis a nod and reached for another mug to start polishing up. With that, Artemis pushed back his stool and stood to take his leave. On his way out, he looked over at Rolvo's table and saw that the top surface wasn't even visible any more. The table had become nothing but hairy dwarves' arms and empty beer mugs. Rolvo caught a glance at Artemis before he stepped outside and yelled,

"Remember lad, be at the gate in the mornin'!"

Artemis gave one final nod and stepped outside into the bright sun. It was still mid afternoon and he had plenty of time, so he decided he would go spend some time at the marketplace while he waited for the dwarf merchant to get ready to close up shop.

[SirArtemis]

The streets by The Bearded Gnome were quiet. Artemis enjoyed the bit of reprieve from the bustle of the place. It was strange to him how much he had yearned for the big city life, and now that he found himself here, he wasn't so sure. There would always be something to do and someone to talk to, that much he did not doubt. He found a nearby bench that faced the sun, and as he sat down and closed his eyes, he began to lose himself in his thoughts and let the moments slip away. He began to wonder.

His thumb found its way to the hilt of his blade, and he wondered what it was he really wanted. He knew what he didn't want, and that was to go back to the life he had. At the very least, he didn't want to deal with the people. Artemis was barely twenty-five, and only years had passed since his entire world flipped upside down. It's not easy to know what it is you really want at that age, let alone after your entire world as you know it changes. It's much easier to pinpoint what it is you don't want, and work from there. Artemis found he was doing just that.

He remembered all of the things he enjoyed and tried to separate them. It was like taking a bowl of spaghetti and carefully removing each strand, and then finding a way to distinguish what made this one different from the others. Life isn't so simple to analyze. You can't take one strand without the rest. You can't take Artemis' love of smithing and somehow remove the connection that smithing has to the one man he hated most, his own father. At the same time, he wanted to pursue smithing. The very reason he was meeting the dwarf this evening was to continue his own pursuit in the craft. Yet how could a single day pass in front of a furnace or anvil without somehow reminding Artemis of his past?

That was the challenge he was facing now. Did he run from his past, or face it? Was he even ready to face it? He didn't know. What he did know was that life had become a day-by-day experience, and in the wild lands of Salvar, that was the only way to live. One moment you could be eating a mead steak in a tavern, the next you could be sprawled and bloody in front of an orc encampment. The best thing you could do was enjoy as much of the moments you had as you can.

In the wilds of Salvar, life seemed to become simpler. It was as basic as life could ever be: live or die. If you didn't have the guts to end your own life, there was plenty of wildlife that would love to do it for you; not to mention the mercenaries, thieves and bandits. If you were so inclined, you could even hire an assassin, and give explicit instructions to make it quick and painless. Death was easier to come by around Salvar than life was. That made the appreciation of life that much sweeter.

For now, Artemis had his day, and he decided to stick to it. He had spent more time on the bench than he realized, and hoped to get a bit of shopping done before the market closed. He stood up, and with a glance at the sun, took note of the time.

"A hunnerd paces that way, and a hunnerd the other."

Artemis laughed at himself and began to walk back the way he had come.

[SirArtemis]

Artemis had returned to the market. It had settled down for the most part, but there was still enough bustle to consider the place active. Dozens of individuals were casually strolling from stall to stall, observing the different wares the market had to offer. It was not the largest market, by any means, but it still had plenty to show for itself. Over a dozen stalls stood to Artemis' left and right. He could see a stall selling fine cloth, one with a butcher with some cured meat, the dwarf's stall off in the distance, a baker's stall which reminded him of his hunger earlier in his visit, and even another smith that specialized in cooking-ware!

To his immediate left, he could see a fruit and vegetable vendor selling his wares. He navigated his way towards it to take a closer look. It was amazing how he could grow such beautiful crops despite the cold environment of Salvar. Artemis was sure there must be some magic involved. As he got close, he stood in awe at the variety. There were bright red strawberries, a variety of apples, and even some large oranges. Artemis saw some tomatoes on the vine, a bucket of red onions, ears of corn still in their husks, and even an uncommon root known as ginger. He approached the stall vendor to see if the food tasted as good as it looked.

"Excuse me? Could I please try a strawberry? They are gorgeous, but I wanted to see how they tasted. I find it hard to believe that these can be as beautiful and delicious as those grown in warmer climates, but my eyes do not deceive me, and I trust my pallet as well."

The old shopkeeper grinned, and Artemis could see that he was missing many teeth. He had a scruffy beard and was balding on his head. He wore a bandana around his forehead like a headband to stop the sweat from beading down his face. It was amazing how warm it felt despite the weather. Then again, the season was still early, and winter was still on its way. The man, who was nearly eye level with Artemis, leaned forward, picked a bright red strawberry, and handed it to Artemis. With a smile, Artemis reached for the strawberry.

"One gold please."

Artemis' hand stopped.

"One gold? For a single strawberry?"
"You can't buy a single strawberry, so I'm charging you what I charge for a normal purchase."
"What if I don't like the one strawberry and decide that I don't want the rest of the box?"
"Then it's one gold coin."
"Well, what if I try this one strawberry and decide I want a normal order?"
"Then it's another gold coin."
"Well what's a normal order then?"
"A dozen strawberries."
"A dozen? For a gold coin? Are you out of your mind?"
"As you said, the weather here isn't ideal for growing strawberries. It's not easy to grow them in this climate, so they cost more. Supply and demand, my friend."
"Well, good luck to you then. I'll go without the strawberry."
"Suit yourself."

The man placed the strawberry back among the others and returned to shouting out what he had to sell. Artemis was a bit flustered. Strawberries generally cost less than a tenth of that when he used to buy them. Understandably, it was in a warmer climate, so it wasn't as difficult to grow them. Even still, a gold coin for a dozen? It was definitely not worth it to Artemis. Just as he turned to walk away, a beautiful woman approached the vendor.

"Twenty strawberries please."
"That'd be fifteen silver miss."
"Thank you. Have a good evening."

Artemis looked on in frustration. He thought to himself how incredibly rude the man was, and took careful note of his features. He would be sure not to forget that face. If he ever needed anything from Artemis, though he could not fathom what he might need, Artemis would be sure to decline service. He wasn't the kind of person to charge an unfair price, but he'd be more than happy to reject a request of someone who simply did not deserve anything from him. He turned away and continued down the market. Just then he noticed a stall with a bowyer behind the counter. He had a few beautiful looking bows behind him, and Artemis was intrigued. However, given his most recent failure at bartering, he decided to talk to the dwarf he had met earlier first.

"Hello again."

The dwarf looked up at him briefly before returning his gaze to his work.

"Well if it isn't the newcomer. How are ye? Did Harki give ye a good meal?"
"Delicious, actually. He seems like a wonderful guy."
"Ay, that he is. I'm not quite ready to pack up, but will be soon. What can I do for ye?"
"Well, I saw a bowyer a few stalls over and I was thinking of attempting to buy a bow from him. I have no idea how to use one, but I feel like it'd be something good to learn. The thing is, I had someone try to charge me a gold coin for a dozen strawberries, and..."
"A gold coin for a dozen strawberries?! That old rat. If ye don't have the bustline the size of the Ahyark Mountains then he'll charge ye a fortune! Despise the man."

With a laugh, Artemis replied,

"It seems you know him. Well I'm not much of a fan of him either after that show he put on. He charged a beautiful woman only fifteen silver for a score of strawberries."
"Was she busty?"
"I didn't get a good look at her chest... I was actually more distracted by her smile. She was quite stunning."

The dwarf gave him an odd look, as if something were wrong with him, and then continued.

"Well what is it ye want then? Tips on barterin' with folks around here?"
"Exactly."
"Well it's simple really, if ye know what to look for. Do ye know the average price of a well-crafted bow of his? That man knows his craft. He makes all of them himself. I'd expect a good bow of his could be netted for maybe fifty to seventy gold coins if he likes ye."
"Fifty to seventy huh..."

Artemis only had about two hundred gold coins, and he intended for that to last him quite a while. Then again, this was an investment, and the dwarf seemed to support this bowyer. Artemis could always pick up a job to make some money back.

"I suppose it's worth a shot. Where should I start?"
"Well, he's likely to try to sell some of his finer bows for around three-hunnerd or so. When he does that, cut him down to about fifty. After that, he'll see what yer lookin' for and aim at a bow for about a hunnerd even. Let him know that if ye like the bow after testin' it out, then you'll recommend his work to others, but only as long as you can get the bow for seventy or so. See how that goes. Whatever ye do, just don't mention I sent ye. Man's got a thing against metal."

Artemis nodded and walked off towards the bowyer to test out some of his new knowledge. The old man was sitting on a stool with his arms crossed and a scowl painted across his face. He had a full head of gray hair, despite his age, and a sharp look in his eye. Artemis realized this wasn't going to be easy.

"Excuse me?"
"I saw you over talking to the dwarf, and I see the daggers hanging at your side. What do you want with a bowyer?"

Well that was quick. So much for that plan, Artemis thought.

"Well, I was looking to buy a bow actually. You are right, obviously, I do use daggers mostly, but I can't deny the usefulness of a bow. I was looking to buy a good novice bow to help me learn to shoot. Do you have any suggestions?"
"My suggestions depend on what you're offering for coin."

Artemis recalled what the dwarf had said to him, though it was a bit out of context at this point.

"How about fifty coins?"
"Pah! Did the dwarf tell you to aim that low? What an insult to my skills. I don't have any bows worth that little. You might as well go find yourself a stick and string it yourself."

Artemis let out a sigh, and decided to be forthright, even if it did cost him the purchase. He realized that despite the bow being useful, his inability to use it properly wouldn't really make it that useful anyways.

"Look, I can see you don't like me simply because I spoke with the dwarf, and I won't deny that. I'm a smith, and the daggers I wear are ones I made myself. I can understand what it's like to be a weapon maker; especially not knowing whether someone will use your weapon for good or evil."

Artemis suddenly flashed on the memory his father, but pushed past the memory.

"I encountered an orc the other day and ended up barely getting away with my life. I got lucky because he was already injured. I can't get close to something that powerful at my skill level without risking serious injury, or even death, and it would help to have a ranged weapon. The dwarf, despite your thoughts of him, recommended your bows. He complimented your ability, and suggested that I go to you if I am to pick out a bow. So despite your frustration, I came here with the intention to buy a bow from you. I need a well-crafted one, but I can't spend too much. I have no work, I have no home, and I have a limited amount of gold to spend. I'd ask for you to empathize, but that's not your job. If you can sell me a good quality bow for a reasonable price, then I can promise you that I will put it to good use, and will also recommend your workmanship if I find that I like your work. Who knows, maybe your bow will become that of legend if I make a name for myself. The most I can spend is seventy-five gold coins. Can you help me out, or no?"

The bowyer seemed a bit taken aback, and it seemed he was not accustomed to being spoken to in such a manner. He narrowed his eyes and looked Artemis in the eyes, and turned his back to him. Artemis looked down and let out a resigned sigh and just as he was about to turn to leave, the bowyer stood up. He reached up and took down a beautiful bow. It was well polished, made of a wood that appeared white beneath its glossy coating, and seemed incredibly durable. It was somewhere between the size of a short bow and a longbow, and had an elegant engraving along the side that Artemis couldn't quite make out. As he took it down, he held it out to Artemis and spoke.

"I don't know much about you. The only thing I know is that the dwarf seems to like you, and I like your boldness and honesty. This bow is out of your price range."

They made eye contact for a moment and let that fact hang in the air between them. Artemis was about to object that he had already given the man his price range, but as he opened his mouth to speak, the bowyer continued.

"However, there is something about how you present yourself that makes me feel confident in your determination. For some odd reason, I feel like I can trust you, and I know you will not use this bow for evil. So I'll sell you this bow for seventy-five gold pieces, but on a few conditions. First, the only way this bow ever leaves your hands is if you are dead. No other person may lay hands on this bow, not even simply to hold it. Do not ask me why, just know that that is my first stipulation. Understood?"

With a confused look, Artemis nodded. He did not intend to question his good fortune, and so far, the stipulations seemed reasonable.

"Second, you must not use this bow for evil acts. If you do so, the bow will not allow you to draw its string. It has been enchanted so that it will judge the virtue of the wielder, and so if it deems your actions are not worthy, it will not allow you access to its power."

Artemis simply looked at the bow in awe, thinking about what kind of enchanter even had that kind of power.

"Finally, when you find yourself in Knife's Edge with a good tale to tell, you must visit me and tell me of your journeys. I'm an old man now. Too old to go on adventures myself. And so, I'd like to have some excitement in my life, even if it's only through others. Do so, and I may even teach you what I know about firing a bow."

The man smiled at Artemis, the first smile Artemis had seen cross his face, and then returned the smile as he reached out his hands.

"I promise to uphold my side of the bargain, but what about arrows?"
"I'll give you a quiver and a score of arrows as well."
"Okay, that works. But I have some stipulations of my own."
"What's that then?"
"First, let go of your feud with the dwarf. He has a good heart. And second, don't die before I get to tell you the story of this bow's first good deed."
"Though I can't guarantee either, I'll do my best. Give me time for the dwarf thing. Too many find their way to his stall before mine. It's much easier to swing around a piece of metal than to fire an arrow long and true."
"Take all the time you need. So do we have ourselves a deal?"
"We have ourselves a deal young man. My stall is here every day of the week. Come find me when you have time to chat."
"I will."

With that, Artemis took the bow and filled quiver, and counted out seventy-five gold coins on the counter, and headed back towards the dwarf's stall. He felt the smooth shaft of the bow. The surface was flawless, and the only texture was from the engraving he had noticed. The engraving read: "Know that virtue sits as judge to your actions."

Artemis ran his fingers along the delicate engraving, and then his fingers made their way to fine string of the bow. It was very delicate, and yet incredibly strong. With a deep breath, Artemis wrapped his fingers around the string as he had seen countless people do with their bows, and began to draw the string back. To his relief, he found that he was able to do so. It seems the bow judged his character as acceptable for now, and he had hoped to impress the bow further down the line. He had felt a slight tingle when he held the string, but he thought nothing of it, simply assuming that it was the enchantment testing the wielder. Little did he know that the bow was actually trying to send him a message that he would not come to understand until later on in his journey.

He made his way back to the dwarf's stall with a smile on his face. The dwarf looked up as he approached.

"Well? How'd it go?"
"Not as planned."

The dwarf frowned.

"In a good way though."

Artemis smiled and showed the dwarf the bow.

"I promised him no one will touch it, so I can't hand it to you or anything, but at least you can see it. It's worth more than I paid, that's for sure."

The dwarf looked on with a bit of shock showing on his face, but kept his thoughts to himself. He smacked his lips a bit and with a smile responded.

"Well I'm glad to hear it. Make sure ye put that thing to good use. For now, help me close up shop, and we'll head to meet me brother."

Artemis, with a beautiful new bow, and a delicious meal in his stomach, could only hope that meeting the dwarf would go as well as the rest of his day. They closed up shop as the sun was almost set, and Artemis followed the dwarf, helping him carry some of his wares.

[SirArtemis]

To Artemis, the walk felt like he was constantly phasing between different cities. When he had walked through the city earlier, the bustle during mid-day made everything seem like a mesh of all that he saw now. The difference now was that every 'street' seemed to have a unique identity. The outfits, the building styles, the color schemes and even the dialects seemed to break down depending on which street you happened to be on at the time. Of course, the differences were sometimes more subtle than other times, but it was all unique nonetheless.

After less than ten minutes of walking, Artemis noticed he had not spoken a word to the gracious dwarf, and he decided that even small talk was better than ignoring him.

"So, how much further do we go? This seems like quite a walk for a single dwarf to make every morning and evening."
"Not too far now. It's not so bad. I got strong legs"

Artemis saw the dwarf pause just long enough to wiggle one of his legs out to the side, as if to show Artemis what he was talking about. Artemis smirked at the gesture.

"Even so, it must get lonesome."
"Lad, do ye have any idea how old I am? I'm not a young fella' lookin' to meet a lady. I've lived a long live, and when ye live as long as me, ye tend to be ok with a bit o' silence every once in a while; especially when ye live in a city as busy as Knife's Edge, where silence ain't so easy to come by."

With a resigned shrug, Artemis understood his point.

"Fair enough. Should I have stretched before this walk, or is it not far now?"
"A bit further, don't get yer knickers in a twist. Yer the one who wants to meet me brother, remember?"
"I remember. I was just asking is all."

Artemis chortled to himself, and was relieved that the dwarf hadn't heard him. If only the dwarf realized how amusing Artemis found him. He had never expected that dwarves would be so eccentric. He found that he liked it. He also found that they brought out a side of him that was far happier than he thought possible. Of course, he didn't want to feed their ego, so he kept his thoughts to himself.

As they approached the end of their journey, Artemis couldn't help but smile at the humor of the shop, which he easily identified. The doorway was made of solid metal and intended to look like a beer mug. To the left of the door, a handle cast of the same metal as the door was attached to the outside of the building to complete the display. Engraved on the doorway were the words 'Norlond Forge.' Artemis wondered what Norlond was referring to, but avoided assuming.

"Well, here we are. Could ye get the door?"
"No problem."

Artemis approached the door and then realized that there was no handle. Confused, he looked back at the dwarf, who had a grin on his face.

"How do ye hold a mug lad?"

Artemis looked over at the 'handle' of the beer mug door. He put down what he was carrying and started searching the metal. He noticed a little opening behind the center of the mug's handle. As he put his hand into the opening, he felt a lever, and he pulled. He tried to pull towards himself but nothing happened. He looked back at the dwarf.

"How do ye get yer beer if the bar is busy?"
"What?"
"If the bar is full, and the barkeep is at the other end, how would ye get your beer?"

Artemis was tempted to say 'I wouldn't' in response to his question, given that he didn't even drink liquor. He looked back at the door for a moment. He didn't have much experiences at bars, but he tried to remember the experiences he had had. Then it dawned on him. The shimmer of The Bearded Gnome shone in his memory. A smooth and glossy bar table with countless smooth, glass mugs hanging above it. Two smooth surfaces, little friction, and likely some golden ale as lubricant. The thought seemed plausible. He reached out and tried to slide the door to his left, and left it went. It slid smoothly along its rails as if it was weightless, and the entrance to the smithy was revealed.

"Sliding doors, huh? That's new."
"Me brother's idea. He says it's the best defense he's got against annoyin' customers. He sure was quick about it. One day, I came back from the market, and there it was. It left little room for discussion, since he burned the old wooden door to work the metal. There is a reason why I do the sellin'."

With a wink, he went inside, and Artemis gathered the belongings he had set down.

"Watch yer step, the lower railing might get ye," the dwarf called from the doorway as he walked in.

"Not only a puzzle, but a trap. I like him already." Artemis mumbled to himself.

Artemis stepped through while admiring the workmanship. However, just as he stepped past the threshold, he saw a man behind the counter. Not a dwarf, but a man; Artemis stopped and stared mid stride.

"Logan," the dwarf said with a bit of malice in his voice.
"Nalin," the human muttered, with an equal dose of venom.

Artemis stood in a daze. He thought that the brother would be a dwarf, not a human. The idea that they were brothers from an orphanage, or adopted brothers crossed Artemis' mind. However, he could understand sibling rivalry to a certain degree, as well as the potential frustration over the door, but this was ridiculous. It was as if they hated each other.

"Oi! Bazzak! I brought someone to meet ye!"
"Who?!"
"A human! One that I actually like!"

With that, the man named Logan scowled both at the dwarf, and then at Artemis, who was still standing where he had stopped.

"A human you like? You're lying to me."

Just then, a coal-covered dwarf stepped out of the back room. Unlike his brother, he had short hair and a very short beard, by any dwarf's standards. His moustache, on the other hand, was impressive. As it spread out across his face, it fell perfectly along the sides of his mouth and down, with two clasps on each side of the moustache near the ends. The hair appeared black, but upon closer inspection, Artemis noticed the speckles of reddish-brown peeking through the coal.

"Well then, human whom my brother likes, what's the occasion?"

Artemis was a bit dumbstruck. The dwarf walked up to him; wiping his hands on a cloth that seemed so black, that it must be doing little to help him clean up. He stood right in front of Artemis and spoke.

"You look like you just saw a dwarf fall out of a tree. Speak your mind."

Shaking off his shock, Artemis managed to find his words.

"Uh, sorry. Well, to be honest, I wanted to see if you'd be willing to teach me a bit about your craft. I'm a bit of a smith myself, a novice by your standards, but I'd love to learn more, if you'll have me."

Artemis looked up at Logan, and then back at Bazzak.

"It seems like you already have an apprentice though, but I'd be wi..."
"Already have an apprentice? Who? Logan?! Pah! The man can barely hammer metal into a square, let alone into a weapon. He just works here; paying off a debt he owes me."

Bazzak looked over to his brother, who was now leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and one foot behind the other.

"What do you think, Nalin? You say you like him. Is he worth taking on as an apprentice?"
"I'm not the smith. Artemis, show him one of yer daggers. We'll see what me brother thinks."

Artemis complied. He removed the dagger from his left sheath, and handed it to Bazzak. As the dwarf took the dagger, he poked his palm with the tip to test the point. He cut a thin line along the tip of his thumb to check the blade. He held it between both hands and bent it to test its malleability. Finally, he held it up to the light to check the smoothness of the surface.

"I hate to burst your bubble boy, but this is junk."

Artemis' heart sank.

"Then again, I have high standards. Most people would consider this pretty good, especially humans; but you're talking to a dwarf, and an old dwarf at that. Here, let me show you one of my lower quality blades. Logan! Toss me the scimitar behind you."

The man complied, maintaining his scowl, and tossed the scimitar toward the dwarf. The dwarf caught the blade skillfully by the handle and Artemis couldn't deny that he was impressed. The dwarf had a degree of finesse even for something that simple. Artemis' intuition told him that there was more to these dwarves than a smithy and his salesman, but again, he'd prefer not to assume.

"What if I told you that even my lower quality scimitar could break your dagger if they were to clash at full strength?"

Artemis' jaw dropped. Was he serious? Was Artemis' blade so poorly done, that even a dwarf's low-quality work could break it in half? Artemis couldn't believe it, wouldn't believe it, but why would the dwarf lie? He was tempted to find out, but there was one problem: Artemis had to go orc scouting tomorrow. Without both daggers, his fighting style was severely crippled, and he may not be able to defend himself.

"Well, it would sadden me if that were true, but I find it hard to imagine. I'd like to find out, but there's a slight problem. I'm supposed to go on a scouting mission for orcs south of here come the morning, and it would be disadvantageous to go without my full arsenal, even if it is as bad as you say."
"I tell you what, if I break your dagger with one swipe of my scimitar, I'll let you use another one I have in the meantime. Then, after you come back from said scouting mission, assuming you come back alive that is, then we'll work on making you two new ones of your own; ones you can be truly proud of."

Reluctantly, Artemis agreed.

"Nalin, you have a strong grip. You're going to hold the dagger."

Nalin smiled, and walked towards the pair. He extended his arm and took the dagger from Artemis. He held the dagger with both hands in a blocking stance, and poised himself to withstand a blow, being sure to stand a bit to the side so that if the dagger were broken, he wouldn't be hurt. With that, Bazzak raised the scimitar over his head, gripped the handle with both hands, and roared as he drove the blade toward the dagger. As the blades collided, Artemis held his breath, and watched as sparks flew wildly from impact. Then he saw it, the pointless dagger that Nalin now held, despite not making a move. Nalin relaxed his stance and handed the dagger back to Artemis with a wry grin on his face. Then Bazzak walked over, shaking his head as if he were sad to see the spectacle. He then held Artemis' arm as he pointed to the broken end of the blade, and spoke.

"You see, you overworked the metal. The folds were uneven and too many. There are other ways to build the durability of metal, especially for weapons. The folding method is not the ideal one. Now, I promised you a substitute, for the time being."

As Bazzak went to the back room, Artemis held the broken blade in his hands so gently that it was as if the dagger itself had died. He stared down at it mournfully, realizing that his prideful work was junk. Bazzak returned quickly after with a dagger of about the same size and its own sheath.

"Here you go. Use this one for now, and as I said, if you come back from your scouting mission, we'll work on a new set of blades for you."

He gave Artemis a comforting pat on the back, as if to reassure him that everything would be okay.

"You say your mission is in the morning, so for now, go get some rest and do what you must. If you can't find the shop, then find the market with Nalin, and he'll give you directions. By the way, I expect that dagger back, unless you're dead of course."

Bazzak laughed and walked behind his counter, leaning on it as he smiled towards Artemis. The display had left Artemis speechless, and he simply smiled politely as he threw the other broken half of his dagger beside its other half, and turned to walk out. As he stepped over the railing, he was unaware of what was going on behind him.

Bazzak's face lit up in disbelief. He had recognized the bow strung over Artemis' back now that he had turned around. He quickly glanced over to his brother, who had returned to his comfortable position against the wall, and their eyes met. Nalin's response to his brother's incredulous look was a nod and smile. Bazzak let his gaze fall back to the bow, just to make sure that his eyes did not deceive him. As Artemis stepped out and slid the beer mug door shut, Bazzak looked back at Nalin and spoke.

"I don't believe it. The grumpy old man handed off the bow."

The dwarves, still inside the Norlond Forge, exchanged a smile, and Artemis began walking back toward the direction from which he had come. He needed to get some sleep. Tomorrow was going to be a busy day.

[SirArtemis]

Artemis ambled through the streets, still in awe at what had just transpired. He had been so proud of his work on that blade. He would have never imagined that it could so easily be broken. With that, a wave of relief crashed over him as he realized his fortune. Encountering these dwarves may have saved his life. He could only imagine what horrors he would have faced had his blade been destroyed in such a manner by an enemy's weapon. The scouting mission he was to go on in the morning could have been his first, and last, mission.

As he snapped out of his thoughts, he realized that he had gotten lost. He had no clue where he was going, and needed to get oriented. He looked around, and in the distance, he spotted St. Denebriel's Cathedral again. The angle of the building was different, and so Artemis went in the direction that would situate the cathedral so that it visually matched his memory of it in the morning.

After nearly twenty minutes of constantly checking his position, and adjusting accordingly, Artemis ended up in the open area where the marketplace had been set up during the day. It was much quieter now, and seemed desolate. Again, Artemis experienced the phase-shifting feeling he had felt during his walk earlier. It was incredible how different this city felt. With every turn of a corner, and at every hour of the day, it was as if you were traveling through different eras and cultures.

At least now, Artemis could find his way back to the tavern.

"A hunnerd paces that way, and a hunnerd the other."

Artemis walked down the path, this time turning early and making his way down the final stretch of street before he reached his destination. He noticed the familiar sign of a bearded gnome and walked through.

Of all of the places he had visited during the day, this one place seemed not to have changed. The barkeep stood in the same spot, polishing yet another of his countless mugs. The tables were full with jolly dwarves, though a different crowd than earlier. Even the energy level seemed to have remained constant. He walked to the bar and pulled up the same stool he had sat on not too long ago.

"Well, yer here alone. That mean's one of two things. Either ye got the apprenticeship, or ye couldn't get the fella to even come by the tavern. I'm hopin fer the former, since I don't know a dwarf who would pass up some ale."
"He broke it," Artemis replied.
"Pardon?"
"He broke my dagger."
"Who's he, and why would he go and do somethin' like that?"
"A dwarf named Bazzak. He said he'd take me on as an apprentice if I came back from my scouting mission, but before that, he broke my dagger. He told me it was junk and that he could break it with one clash of his low-quality scimitar."

Harki seemed to blanch at the mention of the dwarf's name, though Artemis didn't notice. As Harki was about to speak, he put down the mug he was polishing and spoke with a serious tone.

"By the Gods, Artemis. I can't tell ye how relieved I am that he took ye on as an apprentice, but ye can't imagine how much more relieved I am that ye didn't need to bring him here to convince him. I don't have enough ale in this place to put that man on his heels. If ever there was a dwarf with some tolerance fer liquor, it's Bazzak Norlond. He'd clear out my stock with little more than a belch to show for it."

Artemis looked up at the mention of the word Norlond.

"Norlond? Is that his surname or something? I saw on the smithy's doorway 'Norlond Forge.'"
"Ay, that's the surname. He and his brother, Nalin, are some of the best smiths Knife's Edge has ever been graced with. I don't know how ye managed to get an apprenticeship, since Nalin isn't the biggest fan of humans, but ye got lucky."
"Nalin is also a smith? He told me that he's the salesman."
"Oh, he does most of the sellin', but don't ye doubt his ability with a hammer. Both are artisans of their craft."

Artemis sat there for a moment, processing what he had heard, and decided that he couldn't take any more for a single day.

"Well, I appreciate all you've done for me Harki. If it wouldn't be too much to ask, would it be possible to get some tea to help me sleep, and that room you mentioned?"
"Ay, of course lad. Head up the stairs there and the third room on yer right is yers. The sun should wake ye. I'll have the tea brought up and left on the table while ye wash up."
"Thank you, Harki."

Harki reached under the counter and produced a key, which he handed to Artemis. Artemis looked at the key-ring, and saw that there was a little bearded gnome head made of wood, painted and all, with a number on the back of it. With a nod and a smile, he headed up to his room.

As he drudged up the dozen or so steps, he felt like he was about to collapse. He counted three doors, opened the lock, and fell face first into his bed. In less than a minute, he was asleep, with the door wide open. A few minutes later, a dwarf arrived with the tea he had asked for and placed it on his nightstand. As she left, she quietly shut the door behind her. At least the room would have a pleasant aroma; perhaps it would stimulate pleasant dreams for the exhausted Artemis. After all, he would likely be putting his life on the line come morning.

[Taskmienster]

::



Continuity 6

:: The first post was a good, concise way to bring the character into the story. However, it was also really short, to the point, and definite. No real emotional reasoning behind it and it makes me as a reader wonder what Artemis would have felt about the entire ordeal, or how his father felt other than the “sadness” that you said he appeared to show. I’d suggest instead of just throwing the reader into the story, write something to work them into it, that way it flows a lot better as well.

Setting 5

:: After walking through Salvar, before dusk, and alone… you would think that Artemis would have been colder, stiffer, and a bit unprepared to suddenly battle an ork that he chanced across.

Pacing 5

:: In the first post the battle with the ork was sudden and not really explained. Why was there an ork in the middle of nowhere? Plus how long the battle was and all the tiny details you went into weren’t necessarily a bad thing, but they did slow the writing itself down quite a bit. Try and keep a consistent pace with your writing. If you went nearly a page of writing at a slow and steady pace, working on explaining character and story, perhaps it’d be best to start a new post or slowly build the action so that the pacing doesn’t go from slow to super fast all at once.

Dialogue 5

:: When you write dialogue, don’t forget that it’s not just about what they said but also how they said it. Who’s speaking is fine if you’re using colored text (though I can’t stand it, lol) but a little “he said”, “he sighed”, “he growled” kind of thing not only adds to the dialogue but also to the persona of the characters that you are creating. Also, dialogue should be split just like it’s a new paragraph.

Action 5

:: Most of what I have to outline for action directly correlates to what I said in the pacing. Other than that, the actions of the character seemed rather well written out and not out of place.

Persona 6

:: The personality of characters can be expressed through dialogue, both what’s said and the suggestions I made about how it’s said. However, it’s also important to remember that each person has their own persona that you can toy with and work with to make the writing really pop. Too many generic characters and the reader begins to wonder if the main character is the only one that you are concentrating on and it makes all the others come off as flat.

Technique 5

:: There are plenty of times when you can use advanced technique throughout the thread. The most commonly used forms of “technique” are similes and metaphors, which can be used nearly anywhere. I’d suggest using some peppered into your setting as well as general narrative in order to add a little bit of flair to the writing. Now and then it’s good, just try and think of what to compare something to and you pretty much have the perfect base for similes or metaphors.

:: In the first post you have a paragraph that seems to keep going on and on, mainly rehashing the same point that you opened with almost with the same words. Be careful not to be overly wordy for the sake of being wordy, lol. It can sometimes sneak up on you, and catch you off guard, so just make sure that if you start with a point and you elaborate it you don’t reiterate that point multiple times in the same paragraph unless it’s for some sort of dramatic effect. The one I’m referring to is starts with “Suddenly, Artemis stopped.”

Post 1 :: “Well, there wasn't any time to think about that now.” :: Starting a sentence, and that paragraph, with “Well” is a bit off setting because it’s drifting towards a lower diction in writing. You could have left it out and started with There instead and it would have worked much better.

Mechanics 6

Post 1 :: “as a reminder to the beauty of metal.” :: Probably should have been “as a reminder [of] the beauty of metal.”

Post 1 :: “he showed something that he was convinced his father must not have: mercy.” :: “must not have [had]” otherwise you slip into a present tense form of writing. Have had keeps it past tense.

Post 1 :: “Yet he was doing it now.” :: this sentence is pretty much a jump into present tense from a past tense narrative, be careful how you word the writing so that it keeps up the same tense.

Post 2 :: “had still reminded Artemis of the very real dangers he is likely to face in the rough wild of Salvar.” :: “…very real dangers he [was] likely to face…” Is denotes present tense, was denotes past.

Post 5 :: “"I understand. Thanks very much. But the whole reason I brought it up was that it seemed out of place. An orc, travelling alone, with an awful wound and 2 or 3 days south of here?"” :: When you’re writing in a more conventional novel type style you want to spell out numbers in the writing itself. Informal writing, such as what you might see in the Bazaar, tends to be all business and as such people tend to just write numbers into the writing. But more formal writing should always avoid numerical numbers.

Clarity 8

:: Generally clear.

Wild Card 5


Score: 56


Rewards:

Due to length I’m giving a little extra for post count since a few posts were so long. So…

SirArtemis gains 600 exp and 135 gold
((Bow is approved as well as dagger since it will be returned to the dwarf shortly.))

[Taskmienster]

Exp and GP added.