House of Sora: Artisans Trade Mission ((Solo))

[Alberdyne_Cormyr]

Prologue

A heavily muscled man stood in observance of the documents before him. His eyes were narrowed in concentration as he observed the recent bills tallied at the Sleepy Willow. As an organization, the smith-shop housed scores of workers and employed many more. A recent influx of refugees fleeing from the ravages of the work placed an immediate work force on the table. Supply was exceeding demand. There were many skilled workers looking for jobs, but Karxen Deourouge couldn't provide work for them all. However, he knew he wasn't alone. A sanctuary town, Underwood had developed a policy of encouraging the new workforce to arrive.

They put people on to jobs at much cheaper than normal to compensate for any lack of job training individuals needed. There were individuals and organizations who took advantage of the influx of workers. Some were placed into minimal wage paying jobs, or taken advantage of by those who were inclined to such dubious acts. Karxen was tired. He hadn't slept in many days, crow's feet decorated the areas above and below his eyes. A hot mug of potent Elven coffee crowned the table before him. He worked at the office with several other employees of the Sleepy Willow. They poured over documentations like ledgers and bills that needed to be officially filed and audited. With the new Corone Empire in place, taxing policies would ultimately become stricter. All businesses in Corone needed to keep up or be destroyed by a new crop of rising entrepreneurs. Those who would take advantage of the weakened state of Radasanth's constitutional law. Karxen Deourouge was not one of those man. Always abiding to the letter of the law, his agents within Corone's Empire fed him information back and forth regularly.

The new changes to the letter of the law by Corone's Empire were happening quickly. Some managed to keep up with the changing times. With the Inquisition (Knights of Dawn) acting as a military wing for the Corone Empire, enemies of the Empire, or those who dissented, were known to vanish into the night without a trace. Despite his personal feelings about the Empire, Karxen wanted to generally stay on its good side. Governments came and went as history changed, and he knew that they were all on the verge of history changing events. First Corone's long standing democracy shifted into an Empire and then Salvar's situation up North, and finally, the rumors from Raiaera hinting of Xem'Zund's return. Things weren't looking good for Althanas at all. Karxen, along with many other folks believed that the End of Days was rapidly approaching. Taking a sigh after stamping his signature upon a document for the billionth time now, the Master Smith slammed his fist audibly against the liviol desk before him. The desk shook against his might and several of the nearby workers looked at their leader with surprised expressions on their face.

"Are you all right mi'lord?" One of the nearby women asked, a pretty girl named Sally. She had brown hair and almond colored eyes. She wore a simple white dress. "You've been at this for a few nights now. Perhaps you should take a break." She suggested. Karxen shook his head. "No I can't take a great. These documents have to be filed by the end of the week. We have inspectors coming in at the start of the next work week. I can't afford any mistakes or any problems with our records. You know what happens to those who defy the new Empire." He said that last word with his jaws gritted together. It was still hard to swallow that such changes had occurred in beloved Radasanth. Change was inevitable, it had become a common, unifying factor on Althanas. By the Thaynes though, it was happening incredibly fast. Too fast for many to keep up. Karxen allowed himself a moment to take a stretch. A moment later he took a deep pull of the coffee before him. It tasted very rich. Those Elves are so skilled with everything they put their hands on. Karxen felt himself relaxing a bit as the coffee touched his stomach and filled his body with warmth. He wondered how his adopted son, Alberdyne Cormyr was doing...

************************************************** **


*I*

For the thousandth, no, millionth time, Dyne Corona slammed his hammer against the super heated bar of copper before him. He'd already processed the basic minerals of copper from out the granite slab it was in earlier. He was hungry, tired, and generally in a bad mood. For whatever the reason, he wasn't feeling the rhythm. No flow or ebb came to his muscles, only burning exhaustion. The trade of the blacksmith was a work of art. He was like an artist without a brush. Even the cleng-cleng sound of his hammer striking against the bar sounded completely off key.

Feeling the frustration in his heart, the blacksmith stepped back from his work station. The single structure stood like an alter as it was erected before him. Upon the alter stood the copper bars, ready to be worked on the super-heat that the structure created so that Dyne could shape the bars properly into whatever final product he needed to shape. Angry and bitter at his current failures, the youth looked at a nearby mug of liquids. He downed the cold substance of malgen juice in one gulp. The substance had a tangy taste to it that refreshed him with a cool surge across his body. He placed the empty mug down and grabbed a nearby towel. He wiped sweat off his drenched forehead.

Two other blacksmiths used their workstations and were busy in the near zen-like state of working the forge. One of the men he recognized as the Senior-most student of the forgery, a lad named Jellion Quox. He was a stout young man who stood at approximately six feet in height, almost a head taller than Dyne Corona. With his shirt off, Dyne could see the lad's House of Sora necklace. Jellion had it but Maxwell didn't. Maxwell was the other Smith, he belonged to a family calling themselves the McConnells. The second boy clearly wasn't a member of the House of Sora. But that didn't stop him from being a skilled blacksmith. Dyne watched them as they worked minerals he could only dream of working on. Jellion was working on green glowing Plynt, and Maxwell worked on Dehlar. Dyne had learned to forge Copper, Iron, and Steel. But that was on a good day...

And today wasn't a good day. He was barely able to finish working a few coppers bars before the frustrations began to settle in. He thought of his friend Shu Abishi, and picture the Shepard wandering through the open pastures of Underwood. That thought placed a smile on his face. He thought of the man's skilled use of alchemy and his crimson red scarf. Feeling himself reinvigorated, the apprentice blacksmith went back to work. After all he had a large order to complete. They were all working late...

[Alberdyne_Cormyr]

Fumes laced with the materials being worked on in the forge area filled the air, making it heavy with the metals. Face masks needed to be worn at all times for the health of the smith. Sometimes, smiths became used to thick air as their lungs developed powerful musculature. That was the reason that Jellion didn't need to wear a face mask at all. He'd developed powerful smith's lungs at an early age. Dyne envied that about the senior student. He envied a lot of things about the older students in the smith shop. Primarily their level of skill with the hammer.

Dyne was still getting used to crafting things with his hammers. Jellion often told Dyne that his Hammer was sad. Dyne was pouring a lot of negative emotions into his Hammer and that was a terrible sign for a smith to acknowledge. When the Hammer was sad, a smith's products were sad also. Not physically, but spiritually. It was the goal of a smith to create powerfully induced elementally charged pieces of equipment. Dyne was nowhere near the level of a smith of that quality. But he was learning. He was learning rapidly indeed. After his quick break, the apprentice picked up his hammer and felt the now familiar weight in his hand.

It gave off a cold energy that chilled the youth to his core. He didn't like that strange feeling flowing from his hammer. He could see the glow of sadness emitting from the hammer and needed to know how to reverse sadness and make it a purified glow of happiness and joy. As a traumatized youth, the apprentice knew he would have a difficult time accomplishing that. The hammer felt heavy in his hand. More of a weight than a tool used for crafting valuable pieces of equipment. Looking at the aura surrounding his hammer, he saw that it was dark. The darkness reflected the darkness in his own heart. Is that how the elemental spirits saw me?

Dyne found himself crying when he saw that his hammer was so sad. He didn't know why he cried, but it seemed like an appropriate thing to do. With the tears flowing from his eyes, Dyne rotated his hammer once and began to go back to work. Suddenly, he felt the movements come back into his aching muscles. He struck the copper bar once, twice, a third and then suddenly a powerful sound vibrated across the forge. Crack! A sparkling burst of elemental energy flowed from the hammer as Dyne's sad hammer broke under the weight of such an oppressing darkness. The head of his hammer flew through the air and landed uselessly on the ground, and the handle broke to splinters. It would take days to repair the Liviol hammer as such an act would require more Livlol! Dyne yelled in frustration. "No! My hammer!"

It was at that moment that he noticed Jellion and Maxwell standing nearby with sad expressions on his face. "Why did your hammer break Alberdyne?"

"Is it because I have too much sadness in my heart?"

"Yes. The elemental spirits feel our emotions at all times. If you have sadness in your heart, or any other negative emotion, your Sword will reflect that. Right now you have a terrible sadness in your heart. You have to learn to let go of the sins of the past. Otherwise, your sadness will torment you for the rest of your lives. You will only be able to construct Dark Swords."

"How can I cleanse myself of my sadness?"

"By learning how to calm your heart Alberdyne." Jellion said in response to Dyne's question.

[Alberdyne_Cormyr]

Dyne thought for a moment. He looked at the broken handle in his grip and sighed at that. Another failure. This wasn't going to hold up well with his teachings at all. Dyne fancied himself a quick study but there was just something he was missing about the blacksmithing art. And now, his favored paint brush was broken. He wondered what could happen next as he was getting advice from Jellion. The skilled apprentice was now loosing time from his own work to provide comfort for Dyne's misfortunes. The apprentice shook his head angrily but absorbed what was told to him anyway.

"Use this instead of your current hammer. You'll have to fix that yourself but this should serve as a suitable substitute for now." Jellion handed Dyne a new hammer made entirely of steel. The handle was wrapped with leather so as to be easier on the hand. "Thank you Jellion I appreciate this. I'll fix my Hammer when we get the next shipment of Liviol in." Jellion shook his head in the negative. "Just fix it with whatever you have laying around. Its not the strength of the hammer, but the elemental energy of the hammer. Its what you're putting into the hammer that counts the most. Remember that the spirits see how you work on your sword. They are all around us."

Dyne nodded feeling quite ashamed of himself. "I know that. I'm trying to deal with the sadness in my heart but its difficult. Despite all that I am grateful that you lent me the hammer." Jellion shook his head. "I'm not lending it to you, I'm giving it to you. You need a proper Hammer to work your craft." Dyne's eyes went wide. He's giving me the hammer... He held the light-weight hammer in his hand. It felt absolutely perfect. "Thank you for this gift, what will you use?" He asked. "I have a spare I can use don't worry about it. Or I can use one of the forge's extras. There's always something laying around. You needed the extra hammer so I gave it to you okay? Put it to some good use." Jellion patted Dyne on the shoulder. "Thank you once again Jellion. I appreciate this gift."

"Like I said Alberdyne, put it to good use." The blacksmith said and shrugged as he walked. Dyne nodded. I vow to. I won't fail again.

[Alberdyne_Cormyr]

Feeling the grip of his new hammer in his hand, Dyne took a few deep breaths of the dirty air. The air smelled like a furnace to him, but the smith was getting quickly used to the air. His body was adapting to the harsh life of a blacksmith. Dyne was angry at himself that his precious hammer broke cause of his own ignorance but in the process, he'd gotten a new one. He placed the new hammer down for a moment and took up the two pieces of his old hammer. It was the job of a smith to sometimes repair broken armor and weapons too.

That's if they could be salvaged. Dyne had the two chunks of his construction tool so he could definitely salvage his old hammer. He knew he could improve it as well. Looking at the pieces of his hammer in either of his hand, he placed it in an isolated corner of his work area. Moving back to his station he looked upon the altar like anvil and sighed preparing to get himself back to work. But before he did that, he remembered what Jellion told him. Your heart is full of sadness. Dyne realized that the elemental spirits were viewing him in that fashion and would continue to fail. He needed to apply a different strategy.

Sitting down upon a nearby chair, the youth sat in a lotus position. He'd learned the lotus from the Monks of Ai'bron. His years of tutelage on his Father's property sculpted the youth into a fine, but albeit misguided, young man. Now he was becoming a man. Taking a few deep breaths as he acknowledged his failures, he remembered what the strange creature, Philemon, told him when they first met. You will wear many Masks, sometimes happy sometimes sad. These Masks are the angels and demons of your very atma. Dyne focused on Philemon's and suddenly something happened.

Reality shifted around him and he felt like he was falling to someplace very far away. As he fell, a room that moved through his subconscious mind traveled very far across the depths of his mind. Dyne knew that he was somehow in between realities now. In between the physical realm of Althanas and the sea of his heart. Traveling through this place, the moving room stopped and a double door opened. Dyne stepped through the door and ended up in a white hot room. He saw a butterfly flowing through the air in the room and in a brilliant moment, the butterfly transformed into Philemon. Around Philemon, a temple of the strange deity appeared out of nowhere filling the white room with color. Dyne blinked several times as he stared at the supernatural deity. Am I dreaming? Is this real? As he thought about the situations, his thoughts were amplified into the room. Dyne could hear himself as he thought about the strange situation developing before him. Philemon smiled and adjusted his tie for a moment. The man wore his same mask, that was a face somehow, and a purple suit. The tie was bright yellow. Philemon had long flowing dark hair that was almost purple.

"Welcome back to the sea of your heart."

Dyne heard the voice of Philemon project itself into the area all around him. He was now standing on a red carpet as he looked at the man standing before him. "Why am I hear?" Was the first logical thought form. A moment later, Philemon responded. "Your heart is filled with a sadness now. A sadness that must not be. You must find a way to correct this sadness by putting on a new mask of yourself. Find the Masks in your subconscious mind. There are many of them. Some will be happy some will be angry. Like people, angels and demons. Gods and devils. These are the Masks that you will find within your heart. You wear a mask of sadness and that is why your Swords fail. That is why you do not improve the quality of your sword. A sword should have a brilliant shining halo, not a negative halo built of sadness and danger." Dyne absorbed that whole speech into his heart. Masks? Gods? Devils? Such concepts were strange to the young Philosopher but he was slowly beginning to understand. He accepted that there were many versions of Alberdyne living within his heart. Philemon continued. "I must instruct to you the code of our people. The Xae'na Kaharth."

The term rang true to Dyne. He finally knew who and what he was after all this time. He knew that he wasn't quite human, but something else. "[i]A race of Immortals. You are what the mortals call Psionics. Seers of the Truth. Keepers of the Truth. When you wield sadness in your heart, the whole world around you feels the effects of your sadness. This is the nature of Empathy. But now I've told you much. You will be able to use your first Mask after this. A Mask from the sea of your heart." Dyne nodded in understanding, slowly getting a grasp on the situation. He felt weak to his knees but he understood that Philemon spoke the truth. Suddenly, he felt like he was rising through his mind once more, and a few moments later he awoke in the physical world of Althanas proper. Dyne blinked a few times as he felt a heaviness in his head. Looking at his new hammer, the youth saw something next to him. It was a mask, a strangely glowing mask. The color of the mask was blue. It had a face with a strange smile upon it. The Apprentice understood what that smile meant. He took the mask and placed it on his face.

Feeling a surge of pain, the youth felt the mask burning into his flesh. He screamed in agony for a long moment, feeling hysterical throes. His body convulsed and twisted in agony as the mask was burned into his skull. He sighed after the process was complete. Wearing the new mask now, the man smiled lavishly and took his hammer in his hand. He was filled with an inexplicable joy in his heart. A joy and warmth that filled him with a happiness he never thought was possible. Feeling ecstatic now, the man went to work. His hammer moved to the rhythm of an invisible song in the youth's mind. He could've sworn he heard an opera singer. Moving his muscles and getting back to work on the project before him, Dyne knew he'd gotten a bit behind on his work load. I need to correct that starting right now and finish my work. Thaynes, I can't believe how good I feel right now , I had the talent in my heart all along! Clang. Clang. Clang. Came the correct sound that Dyne wanted to hear. He'd found his movement again and the dance was started anew.

[Alberdyne_Cormyr]

Many hours passed. He felt elation in his heart as his work progressed. He continued to move his arm in the same movement for a long time. His muscles ached but he ignored the pain now, used to it. The young smith was working towards becoming a Master Smith in his own right. The sound of the metal striking against metal became a distant song in his ears. He worked the copper bars before him so that they could take shape. His craft was very much like the craft of a painter. One had to mix the exact qualities and amounts of paints to get the right colors. Then mixing colors created even more tones and shades to work with. It was a never ending process of mixing and remixing ingredients.

After a long time of working, Dyne finally finished the first half of his physical labor. He had a blade before him. The blade was shining and filled with the halo of a weapon built properly. Dyne put the finishing touches on the blade with his hammer and sculpted the weapon exactly how he needed to sculpt it. This was the finest copper sword he'd made for himself yet. The weapon was double edged and had a blade length of approximately two feet in length. It was a broad sword. Dyne even managed to place an indentation running through the middle of the blade and up most of its length. It was meant to collect blood that fell down its length.

The next part of the process required Dyne to construct an intricate handle for his weapon. He had the pieces nearby. Working with the hands of a sculptor, the apprentice built the handle over several more hours of work. Soon, his first sword in the set was complete. Dyne needed to construct four more such swords to fill an order that just came in a week earlier. And so, he began the process of completing the next sword. He took a break to clean himself off and take a drink to replenish his energy reserves. He was growing weary, but his spirit was stout.

Taking up his hammer once again, the youth continued the process of making the weapons he was working on. It was his first attempt at weapons of the Excellent level of quality. His first few attempts failed miserable. He saw the Average and Good quality swords laying in a pile nearby to him. The sword he'd just completed was the first Excellent quality weapon he'd been able to complete in his entire tenure so far in the Sleepy Willow.

Dyne was happy with his progress but he knew he wasn't out of the woods just yet. I can't celebrate this small accomplishment. There is much more work to be done. A couple of days later, the youth finished four more Excellent quality swords. He had many more disasters along the way, and each set back cost him more time. He had to step back besides himself and build up more Copper bars for the forging process. He was lucky that he was just working on plain old Copper swords.

[Alberdyne_Cormyr]

Dyne was just putting the finishing touches on his last set of blades when Karxen arrived in the forging area one afternoon. Working the anvil, smiths often lost track of the time. They were artists building intricate series of weapons and armor that needed forging. The process was painful and time consuming indeed. Dyne looked up from the last sword he was building and saw Karxen moving over to Jellion's person. Seeing that made Dyne want to work that much harder to complete his order. Karxen acknowledged Dyne when he walked past the apprentice. Dyne nodded back but continued to work without pause. Karxen's business with Jellion was none of his own.

After a while longer of working, Dyne was finally finished with the order. He placed his swords in hand, all fifteen of them, and moved towards the counter area with them. All he needed was the five Excellent quality swords to be checked by Karxen, so he left those in the storage area for complete swords. He bundled up the lesser quality "failures" and prepared to take those to the Bazaar when he got the chance to. There were always refugees and others trying to survive with Corone's Civil War, that could use new weapons.

Feeling proud of his work, the youth was happy that he'd progressed as much as he had. He knew he had a longer way to go though. He was only at the start of his career. This new batch of swords was meant for the Bazaar and they were Copper swords. They were all Average quality to Poor quality. He took a break from his work, since he was done for the time being, and stepped outside into the evening. Even at night, Underwood was a very active place.

[Alberdyne_Cormyr]

Dyne walked over to the Peaceful Promenade, his heart feeling the weight of his work. He was somewhat wary and needed a drink. Walking to the Promenade he decided to check it out and see if he couldn't land some work before he went back into the smith-shop. There were always odd jobs needing to be done here and there. Duties of the Corone Rangers. Dyne hadn't heard much about the front of the Civil War, but there were high casualty ratings apparently. The apprentice entered the bar and was immediately hit with the scents of sweat, smoke, alcohol and humanity. All types of scents touched the man as he walked in. His eyes blinked a few times. They were dry, but the air in the tavern wasn't as oppressive as the air in the forge.

Sitting down upon an empty chair, the man was attended to by a waitress almost immediately. Dyne looked up at a familiar girl named Stacy. He smiled at her and she smiled in return. "What can I get you Dyne?" She asked with an almost sing song quality to her voice. Dyne grinned at that. "Some Apple Juice will be fine. Or Apple Cider if you have any." She nodded. "We have Apple Cider." Dyne leaned back against his chair. "Good I'll have some Apple Cider. Can I have the dinner Menu too? I haven't ate in sometime."

"Sure thing Dyne." She said, her voice was attractive. Dyne liked getting his order taken by her. He'd often met with Stacey after her shift was over and when he wasn't working at the Sleepy Willow. She winked at him for a moment and then walked over to the counter/service area. Dyne waited for his drinks and for the menu. A few moments later, Stacey returned with a copy of the menu in her hand. She handed it swiftly over to Dyne's person.

Dyne smiled again. He looked at the menu and perused the various dinner specials. There was an order of a local forest beast that caught his eyes. He definitely wanted to partake in some boar meat. It was especially scrumptious and had a unique texture to it. His order came sometime later and was served with potatoes, corn on the cob, and some other side dishes. Dyne could eat the whole thing by himself. He looked at the boar meat and grinned to himself as he prepared to eat in a solitary position.

"Mind if I join you?" Came a familiar voice. Dyne heard the voice of a fellow Corone Ranger. A man named Kastor Troy. Sharp eyes observed Dyne's person very carefully. "You have a hit out on you, you shouldn't be by yourself Cormyr." Dyne sighed. "You can have a seat Troy." He said greeting his old Ranger partner. Troy sat down, sitting opposite Dyne's person. "You shouldn't have helped the Syndicate." Dyne looked up sharply from his meal. "I don't need a lecture from you. My Father set that whole situation up for me. I don't know what he was thinking but I listen to my Father." Dyne said, a touch of venom in his voice. "Relax Dyne. I'm here to tell you about the front. We have a new mission for you." Dyne sighed when he heard that. That's something he didn't want to hear during his time off. "Mission huh? Another suicide one perhaps?" Dyne asked in response, taking a sip of his Apple Cider. "You know I'm not a huge fan of your missions Troy. But out with it." He said feeling annoyed at the intrusion of his personal space. Dyne rarely had any time off these days.

"No need for the harsh tongue for an old friend. Let's kick back and have a drink." Stacey came back and saw Dyne's companion. "Will the Sir like to order?" She asked of Troy's person. "Yeah I will. I'm going to be here for a while and its better to discuss business on a full stomach. Hand me one of those menus." She did as she was asked. "I'll have an ale and some of this oxen beef stew. And an order of fresh vegetables." Stacey nodded and went to go place the order. "How do you want to pay for this Dyne?" The apprentice sighed when he heard that. "I'll pay for it Troy. Don't worry about it much okay?" He said in return. "Very well. I'll owe you one." Stacey placed a pitcher of Ale on the table next to the pitcher of Apple Cider. Dyne knew that Troy intended to stay and bother him for the long haul. This was going to be a long night. Dyne ate his food while he watched Troy very carefully. After chewing and swallowing a bite of his food, he took a deep pull of the Apple Cider. Then he returned his gaze to Troy. "So what's this job you have for me?"

"Impatient aren't we?" Troy quipped. "Let's eat first and we can discuss business afterwards." Dyne shook his head. "Whatever you say Troy."

[Alberdyne_Cormyr]

If you were to ask Dyne about it now he wouldn't be able to tell you why he was feeling so nervous about Troy's casual front. He'd never seen Troy attempt to be nice to him before and this sudden change of pace made the apprentice extremely uncomfortable. It feels like he wants to ask me something really important. I remember what happened the other times that I discussed matters with him. Such matters lead me to a battle with the Syndicate. Now I know they got a dead mark on me. The food tasted good but was rapidly loosing its flavor the more Dyne thought about the situation.

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat as he looked Troy in the face. Dyne wanted to know what was troubling him. Was it Troy? Or something more elusive perhaps? He broke the staring contest after a long moment to turn his attention on the gathered crowd. A pair of lovers kissed romantically as they ate their dinner for the night. A group of gathered friends played a popular card game called denivins gamble. Dyne played the game a few times but always lost.

In the corner over there, a shady group of people discussed private matters that didn't concern Dyne. Others sat and mingled throughout the restaurant section of the Peaceful Promenade. Dyne counted a few hundred heads, even in the early evening hours. This was a famous Tavern/Inn business that benefited from popularity.

Word of mouth advertisement spread quickly throughout the establishment's successful careers even as the management's hands was passed more than once. Dyne knew a little bit about the legends revolving around the Peaceful Promenade's humble origins. They were almost as subtle as the Silver Pub. Dyne heard some stories that the Syndicate had a hand in the construction of the Promenade. Which is why Agents often met there to discuss business dealings right under the nose of the Corone Rangers.

"All right Dyne. Here's the deal." Finally came Troy's voice. "You see in that last venture of ours, I managed to damage my sword some. It could use some repairs. Furthermore, I'd like for you to make me a high quality Steel longsword. I would consider this a personal favor." You scratch my back, I scratch yours huh? Dyne thought. He stopped eating and took a deliberately slow pull of the Apple Cider, emptying the contents of his goblet, a moment later he refilled it with the contents in the pitcher. The pitchers were enchanted to produce an unlimited supply of whatever was in them.

"You want me to fix your weapons huh? You know Troy its kind of funny hearing that." Dyne smirked. He was truly annoyed by the way that the man chose to run his business dealings. "However I am a businessman. So I'm going to have to charge you for these dealings." Troy nodded. "Fair enough Dyne. Just name your price. And so, the two haggled over prices for the quality of the swords. Troy wanted a repair job AND a new sword, made of Steel at that. Excellent to Masterwork quality! Dyne had to consider those prospects when naming his offer. Dyne put a ball park figure on the table. "Including the quality of Masterwork sword, and the repair job it'll cost you around 400." Dyne said. He saw the expression on Troy's face as the man thought carefully about the dealing. "Four hundred huh? I'll give you five hundred if you do a really good job." Troy finally added. Dyne nodded to the man. He took a sip of the juice. "It sounds like a deal to me." Dyne said after he took his drink. With the dealing completed, Troy took a huge chunk of his dinner. "Dyne there's a serious matter we need to discuss."

"I know Troy. Can we do it now?"

"No. Too many ears." Troy said and casually looked around the room. I gotta give it to the man. His paranoia never fails to impress me. "We'll talk back at your place where we can discuss this next job alone. We both have to be prepared for it."

"All right Troy. Let's just finish eating dinner for now then."

[Alberdyne_Cormyr]

Time passed. Dinner was finished without another word. Once their plates were taken and their stomachs were filled with drink and a solid meal, Troy waited while Dyne paid for their dinner. Dyne put in a hefty tip to Stacey. She kissed Dyne on the top of the head and the apprentice smiled. Troy simply shook his head with a broad grin. Once the transaction was taken care of, Dyne followed Troy out of the Peaceful Promenade. Keeping up with the older man, Dyne walked in silence.

"Why did you tip her so much?" Troy asked.

"I felt like it. She always treats me well when I go to that place." The apprentice shrugged, it seemed like a natural thing to do. Tip someone for a job well done. It didn't matter to Dyne that Stacey was a close friend of his. He preferred it that way so that he could sit in a more socialized setting. The walk towards the Sleepy Willow was uneventful. It was already night by the time Dyne saw the evening crew working the counter. "Troy you're going to have to wait someplace while I get your order okay? I don't currently have a batch of stuff to work on that I'm aware of."

Troy nodded. "Very well. I'll leave you to it." Troy handed Dyne his personal armor, made of Steel, and an Iron broadsword. Dyne immediately spotted that the quality for both was average. He assumed that Troy wanted the quality of both increased. "I can increase the quality of your equipment if you want me to. But that'll cost you 20 more gold." Dyne added. Troy considered that prospect. "All right, we're up to 520 gold. That's reasonable to me." Dyne took the equipment in his hand and went behind the counter without saying another word. He wanted to be back at the forge. Really, he wanted to be sleeping, but he knew that wouldn't happen for a time.

[Alberdyne_Cormyr]

Dyne admitted to himself that this was a different project than normal. He looked at the well worn armor placed into his care and sighed heavily. Already used to the thick air in the forge, his lungs grew powerful. Dyne took a deep inhale of the forge and let out a relaxing exhale. He was trying to calm his nerves as Philemon taught him. The new mask that he wore now helped him to relax and wear that smile on his face a lot easier.

Wearing a smile on his face, he saw that his new hammer glowed with a slightly brighter halo. The darkness tainted it somewhat, but it wasn't as oppressive as it was with his previous hammer. He would have to find the time to repair and strengthen his old hammer. So the spirits viewed me as a someone with a heart of darkness huh? I'll have to change all that. I'll vow to become someone truly great. And make pieces of equipment that shine with a brilliant halo!

The apprentice felt his heart fill itself with pride. Taking several available Steel Bars, the youth prepared himself for the long task ahead. He had to make a few sketches before he worked on the finishes product. There was a lot of steel to work with. However, the youth decided to make his first attempts at a piece of armor with a lesser metal. He took out an estimated amount of approximately six bars and the necessary molds for the piece of armor. He set everything on the anvil.

Looking at his available made, the youth made some key measurements. He visualized Troy's height and weight, carefully observing the molds set before him. They were just about the right size and once again his instincts came through for him. With a self satisfied smile, Dyne, apprentice blacksmith, went right to work...

[Alberdyne_Cormyr]

Approximately two days later, Dyne was putting the final touches on Troy's armors. The first attempt to complete a chain mail vest ended up as a total failure. It took several tries for the apprentice to get a reasonable working armor together. The process wasn't as hit or miss as Dyne often lied to others about his craft. There was an exact science. One had to calculate, take measurements, and allow his hammer to shape the super heated bars to whatever final product he wanted to complete.

This was the first time Dyne was working on a series order of Armors. His failures were apparent and he hadn't gotten it on the first try. Rather, it took a cumulative effort on Dyne's part to overcome his weakness of making armors and repairing them. Dyne constructed five pieces of armor before he moved upon Troy's armor. He didn't want to mess up with the senior member of the Corone Rangers.

Working upon the repair job was tricky. Dyne had to remove the useless parts and replace them with patches of suitable metal. Not only that, he was upgrading the quality of the entire armor! That alone required more minute effort and detailing on the scale-work. After a time, Dyne completed an impressive repair job. The quality of the armor shined brilliantly with Dyne's effort. He'd constructed a serious piece of equipment that was emblazoned with tiny designs in the scale work. Dyne redid the symbol of the Corone Rangers so it shined brightly in the light adding that flair of drama to the unique work.

Moving quickly to the sword, Dyne knew he would have an easier time repairing the worn weapon as he had much more experience in that department. However, even with the sword as battered as it was, Dyne refused to work on it right away. He'd gone into a specific work ethics that involved discipline and patience. Dyne needed to plan carefully for this part of the project.

His hammer reacted skillfully to every stroke that he'd slammed against the piece of Armor. Dyne looked at the batch of stuff he'd already completed, he could use a couple more swords. Working the steel bars, Dyne began the process to make more swords. Several more hours later, Dyne completed two more average quality swords made of steel. He added those to his increasing stockpile. In time, Dyne would build himself a mighty sword. But for now, he needed to concentrate on his education.

[Alberdyne_Cormyr]

Starting up several "sketches" was the next phase of Dyne's plans. Several of the other Blacksmiths came and went. Jellion was still working on a plynt project that Dyne was curious about. Dyne thought about being able to make Plynt and Dehlar weapons for himself, the thought made him shiver. He doubled his effort on the repair job for Troy, putting his own aesthetic touches upon the weapon as he worked on the project. Two "sketches" were completed before Dyne went to work on the real thing. These swords were of average quality at best. Dyne hadn't put that much effort into completing the swords themselves, but they were more like a warm-up job.

Dyne always approached the art of blacksmithing like an artist would. He was crafting serious, heavy duty stuff. He was also crafting his future. His reputation depended on how well he could forge his equipment. Working on the repair job now, Dyne gathered the bars he needed for the blade. He was thankful that he'd prepared a large amount of ore earlier in the week just in case a large order like this came his way. Dyne paid attention to the subtle details of his art. Each part of the blade was an important section of the canvas, the final line drawing was exquisitely detailed by Dyne's hands.

After he built up the two practice swords, Dyne gathered himself for the repair job at hand. His next task was two-fold. He needed to both repair and upgrade Troy's weapon AND make Troy a brand new sword made of Steel. He was thankful that Troy's sword was made of Iron which was an easy metal to shape and mold. Increasing the quality of the blade was going to be the tricky part, but Dyne knew he could do it. Dyne set the blade in its position on the anvil and began to go work. Concentrating on each skillful stroke of his hammer, Dyne felt himself going into a trance once more...

[Alberdyne_Cormyr]

Many thoughts passed through his mind when he achieved this trance-like state.

Thanks to the thick air inside the forge, the mind created many fanciful constructs as the body worked. Dyne often thought about his Father and the few times he'd encountered his Father's Phantom. Mostly, the Phantom came to him amidst dream-like sequences that resembled Phantoms themselves. The thoughts of his Father filled Dyne with warm images of the past. He kept seeing his Father in a far away place. Dyne was trying to run after his Father but could never reach him...

The thoughts disturbed him greatly. He'd run forever across a void trying to find his Father's Phantom to talk to him one last time. But the Phantom kept vanishing just within reach. Dyne heard voices laughing at him as he ran after his Father and the vision cleared. Working through the project at hand, Dyne found himself in a white room. A white room that went on forever across the sea of his heart. Dyne looked around this room and saw another person there, a woman.

Walking towards the woman, Dyne wondered if she was in some sort of trouble or needing help. Suddenly, the woman stood up quickly from her position and revealed herself to be his Mother! She wielded that same accursed dagger in her hand and lunged forward to stab Dyne in the head once more. Dyne screamed in agony as his scar hurt. The recurring nightmare caused the man significant amounts of pain.

Clutching at his forehead for a moment he stopped working on the sword for the briefest of seconds. His head ached with sheer agony. Like someone placed a dagger in his brain. Electricity burned across his skull from the agony he felt. Tears streamed down his eyes. He felt oppressed by his Mother's actions. A part of him refused to move on until he confronted his Mother about the whole sordid affair. He needed the truth. Filling his heart with a raw determination, Dyne suddenly found a purpose he'd always lacked in his life. He wanted to find his Mother and turn her in to the proper authorities for her great crime against his family. He didn't even care about the personal injury he'd suffered on that terrible day. He just wanted to avenge his Father. Sir Gallen Cormyr. And the butler. Reeves.

With his heart filled with a renewed sense of determination, Alberdyne Cormyr took up his Father's mantle that day. For the first time in many moons, the apprentice was proud of his heritage and proud lineage. Hitting the sword with his hammer now, he swung with powerful strokes. Strokes filled with the determination of what it meant to be a Cormyr. And without realizing it was happening, his hammer glowed with a soft, but brilliant light surrounding the head of the hammer. Dyne worked feverishly now to complete the project at hand. There was still one more step left.

[Alberdyne_Cormyr]

Dyne remembered his Father's teachings.




Why do you fall when you are injured my son?

I don't know. It's an immediate reaction for me....

It's an immediate reaction for all who fall that do not know how to control their fall. Everyone falls at some point in their lives. Its how you learn to pick yourself back up again.

So I can just get up?

You can cry if you want to my son. Though you are a noble, you are still a boy none the less. My son. One day you will inherit this great land. One day you will become a King.

I hope that day isn't anytime soon. I don't want things to change.

But remember, all things must fall. It doesn't matter what the object is. The object can be a person or a kingdom, or even an empire. We must learn to protect those things we value with our very lives if need be. There must be those willing to fight for freedom. One day, the very freedoms that we take for granted will be under attack.

That's impossible Father. Freedom is an ideology. How can someone attack an ideology?

True, Freedom is an ideology, but it is one protected by our Constitution. It is these documents of law that we must protect for Freedom is the right of everybody, not just humans. One day, my son, you will be called to protect this precious document.

But first I have to learn to stand up?

Aye my son. First you have to learn how to stand....



The painful memories brought tears to his eyes. Deeply embedded to his core, were his Father's teachings. More so than the teachings of the Corone Rangers. His Father's verse became the code by which Dyne lived by.

Working through the pain, Dyne took out his anguish upon his current project.

Time flew by. Soon, he was staring at the completed repair job. Putting some finishing touches into the sword's blade. Dyne placed some intricate designs with the chisel and his hammer into the blade, molding it with his powerful will. Sometime later, the repair job was done. He stared at the weapon for a long while and marveled at the intricate quality of his work.

Holding the hammer in his hand, he prepared for the next part of his crucial work. He was going to build Troy a new sword.

[Alberdyne_Cormyr]

Dyne constructed one more longsword before he actually went to work on Troy's new sword. All in all, the process took about a week's worth of work.

Dyne looked at the newly refurbished armor and the two swords. Building a scabbard took less amount of work. The extra scabbard was three more hours of work on the last day. It was a Saturday. So from the moment he got his new hammer and the time it took to complete Troy's project, an entire week had passed.

Polishing up his work, the apprentice finished up the Excellent quality swords and armor. There were unique patterns of dragon motifs upon the surface of the swords and the armor. Taking up the heavy equipment, the man finished his polishing job.

A clean shine reflected upon the surface of the metal showing the apprentice blacksmith his own face. He wore a self-satisfied expression on his face once he overlooked the finishing touches on his product. Jellion finished working on a his own project at about the same time. Once the other boy was completed working on his project, he came over to inspect Dyne's work.

"Good finish. I see that the new hammer worked out well for you. Don't forget to fix your old hammer up."

"It'll be good as new once I'm done working on it. I'll make the hammer better than ever."

"That's the spirit! I'll show you Plynt when you're ready for it." Jellion said with a grin.


"Right on. Anyway I need to give these to my client...so I'll see you later, okay Jellion?"

"Clean up your work area first. You have a large pile of mundane work back there. Don't forget to organize that stuff and sell it at the Bazaar. "

"I won't Jellion."

"Very good. I'll get back to my anvil then. I'll see you later."

Dyne nodded to his friend. "Have a good day." Taking up his stuff, he found a nearby package of cloth and wrapped some cloth around the entire bundle.

He placed a strap around the entire thing and lifted his package up. He knew where Troy was staying whilst he waited for the repair job. Gathering himself, the apprentice walked outside of the shop and made his way towards the Peaceful Promenade with his awkward bundle. He vanished off into the crowd.

[Alberdyne_Cormyr]

Atop the Peaceful Promenade, a single roof tile burst off the building suddenly as a hornet trapped a spider within its grasp. The single tile bounced off the building and rolled all the way down the length of the roof. Following a predetermined trail, the tile tumbled off the roof and onto the pedestrian crowd below. It fell all the way down and hit Dyne on the head as he walked directly underneath the path of the single tile. "Ouch!" The apprentice cried out as he rubbed his head suddenly, feeling a bump develop from the impact of the object against his skull. Dyne felt familiar and old pains pop up as he was hit by the tile. He saw the thing land on the floor nearby.

Several people that were walking passed the man shot glanced in the psionic's general direction. The stares were questioning in nature. Dyne grinned mischievously while rubbing the bump on his head. Damn I have the worst luck ever! Seeing the tile on the floor, Dyne kicked it into a nearby gutter and let it flow downstream, just another memory. After that was taken care of, Dyne walked into the Peaceful Promenade. Already, it was a place of many memories.

As he walked through the threshold, he remembered a time earlier in his youth when he met the man named Joshua Cronen briefly. He saw the warrior enter to the bar and later found out from his friend Jessa Reyes that the pugilist had fought alongside his butler, Reeves to rescue them from bandits. He remembered the blackout that suddenly hit Underwood. As he stepped into the familiar smells of the Promenade section of Underwood, a large and beefy warrior stomped heavily passed the youth. The man bumped into Dyne with such force that the apprentice was nearly knocked down upon the floor. Looking up at the man, the warrior had a mean face as if threatening the apprentice with a promise of a dare.

"Outta my way punk!"

The warrior grunted and forcibly walked passed Dyne utterly ignoring the apprentice blacksmith. Shrugging the embarrassing display off, a hand greeted Dyne's eyes. Smiling up towards a familiar face, he saw Troy's person already waiting for the apprentice. Dyne extended his own hand, taking the older Ranger's and allowing him to pull. A moment later, Dyne was standing. Taking the fallen package back in his arms, the man handed the bundle over to Troy.

"Thanks for that. He's a real brute of a fellow was he not? Anyway I finished your order, sorry it took so long."

"All right. I'll take a look at the whole thing outside. Things have come up, we need to talk over a drink." Troy said.

"As per routine. No problem, I'll pay for drinks." Dyne responded and they both were escorted to a table.

[Alberdyne_Cormyr]

Smoke from pipes filled the air. Drinks were slammed on tables as they were gulped down. Dealings took place in the shade. Promenade employees were paid to look the other way whilst these dealings were going on. One such dealing was between Kastor Troy and Alberdyne Cormyr. The two shared drinks over a meal that was recently ordered. Fresh boar meat was placed on the table between the two men. Two different pitchers contained the drinks of choice for either of the men. One drink was filled with juice, whilst the other was filled with a strong whiskey. Kastor drank the alcohol as he fiddled with the bundle that Dyne gave him.

"You completed this project fairly quickly Dyne. I'm impressed with your progress as a Smith." Kastor said calmly.

"Your words are not necessary Troy. You asked me to do a job for you, for which I am getting paid. Its that simple. Now what is this urgent matter you wanted to speak to me about?"

"Patience young one. I need to finish this meal. A matter has come up."

Dyne frowned. He didn't want to be patient, he wanted to act. But he also knew that Troy wouldn't reveal the information until he was ready. Troy was stubborn like that. Taking more of the wild boar into his mouth, Dyne ate in silence. He took a long pull of the drink in his mug, some kind of Apple Cider. It tasted refreshing against his parched throat. His work at the forge made him hungry and thirsty. His form was getting bulkier and he was growing much stronger than before.

"I have to admit I'm excited to see what you came up with." Troy said and handed Dyne a pouch of gold. "All the gold is there as I promised you."

"Very well Troy." He responded calmly and took the gold into his personal belongings. Dyne was getting just a little bit wealthier, bit by bit. He didn't have a fortune to his name yet...but in time the apprentice would develop his fortune. He kept thinking about preparing himself to work with Plynt. So far, he wasn't ready yet. He hadn't even made his first masterwork item. In time, he would become a famous blacksmith. For now though, all he could do was train...and plan.

[Alberdyne_Cormyr]

The individual smells of the tavern crept up Dyne's nostrils. He felt the scents stinging his eyes. However, his time in the smith shop helped his body become used to such a strong series of scents and smells. Humanity's odor flowed through the air as well as the scent of various types of herbs and tobacco.

Pipes were lit up. Flowing clouds of smoke were layered thickly into the air as wisps of phantoms in the breeze. Dyne could see various intricate shapes flowing through the air of the thick smoke that people were consuming into their lungs. Various scents of different types of dishes also filled the air adding a particularly strange medley of smells. Dyne wasn't sure if he liked the smell or not but it was certainly exceedingly strong. Women's perfume sharply contrasted men's smell of sweat. Dyne finished eating his plate of food, observing the textures of the meat that flowed down his throat in bit sized chunks. He sighed, feeling the pleasure of the meal. However, a feeling of anxiety lurked in his gut. He was eager to see what Troy thought of his equipment. This was one of Dyne's first big projects on his own and the apprentice was eager to see if he'd met expectations. Troy finished his own meal shortly there after and belched loudly. Dyne shook his head with amusement. Taking a long pull of the juice in his cup, Dyne continued to watch his unruly companion for a long moment.

"All right then kid. Let's get to this." Troy said and began to examine the bundles that Dyne gave him. Staring in satisfaction at the weapons he'd received and the quality of the armor, Troy banged his hand against the chest piece. He heard the sound of a fist against metal and smiled at the quality of the armor. "Not bad kid. One of the finest works I've ever seen. I'd've asked you for a higher grade of material but I know that you can't work that kind of stuff yet. The quality is good kid. I like what you've done." Troy belched once more and took a noisy sip of the ale in his goblet. When he placed the cup down on the table, his expression became serious.

"What do you think of the Corone Empire Alberdyne?" He asked.

"I'm honestly not sure what to think. It all happened so suddenly that it was kind of too late to develop any real opinion about it." Dyne paused. He was trying to come out with a logical answer. "They've done some terrible things but no great civilization is without its share of crimes." Dyne added.

"You do bring up a valid point. But you can't ignore the Gisela Massacre. Lot's of good people died that day for nothing. It has fallen on the Corone Rangers to attempt to return democracy and freedom back to the realm."

"Were we ever truly free?" Dyne asked. "I mean. Only the nobility could vote parliamentary figures into power anyway. The people didn't have any voice in the matter. That's not a democracy to me. That's more like a dictatorship. We have a unique chance in history to create a true democracy out of Corone. Do you understand what I'm saying? Give everybody the right to elect leaders, not just a select few. What happens if those people get killed? You have chaos, like what's happening right now. Never in all of Corone's history has there been such anarchy." Dyne took a sip of his juice.

"Well said boy. But there's a problem with that argument. How do you make it so the people don't get corrupt? Who enforces the people? Who is there to enforce the vote of the people?" The older man sighed. It was clear that many matters were on his mind. "What's troubling you Troy. I haven't seen you like this ever." Troy nodded. "Its the matter I need to ask of you. I have to be absolutely certain that you are loyal to the Corone Rangers. If you are there is a chance you might join the Scarlet Brigade." Dyne's eyes widened when he heard that. The Scarlet Brigade? Me? They were considering me for such an honor? Dyne's hands began to shake nervously and he took a deep sip of his juice.

"Let it all process Dyne. You've proven your worth even though you have history with the Syndicate. We weren't sure you could complete your Ranger's training at all. But you're competent. You're quick on your feet and you're a fast learner." Troy said. "You remind me of myself when I was your age."

"What do you need me to do for the Rangers?" And suddenly, Troy took out a heavy parcel and slammed it on the table. Several individuals looked at the loud activity and quickly turned their gaze away. "This. I need a competent foot runner to deliver this package to its destination. The matters are important that are within this package. I can't have anyone who is going to attempt to tamper with the package or view its contents or whatever. You understand don't you? It's a secret matter." Troy took a pull of ale. "It needs to be delivered on time to the party waiting for it. Should you succeed in that job, I have another task awaiting you. Succeeding on this task will place the House of Sora in great standing with the Corone Rangers." Troy said casually. "I understand." Dyne began. "I'll do it." He added. He wanted a chance to get some fresh air after his labor in the blacksmith shop.

"Excellent. Come with me." Troy responded.

[Alberdyne_Cormyr]

Following Troy was a matter that worried Dyne just a bit. It seemed that where ever the fellow went, trouble wasn't too far behind. The same could be said about Dyne himself! Dyne wore a neutral expression on his face, his lips slightly down turned causing appropriate creases to appear in his handsome face. His green eyes sparkled with a hint of worry, his eyebrows touched with the slightest of frowns. Barely visible because of the headband he constantly wore. His cloak, marked with the symbols of the House of Sora, flowed in the wind as well as the dual tail end of his headband.

A light breeze came in from the southwest. Dyne could taste Salvar in the breeze, as the touch of Winter came from the wild lands. His clothing was warm, Vlince, and well manufactured. Being a member of the House of Sora had its privileges. Dyne kept pace with Troy's person walking alongside the taller individual for a long moment. Dyne's long crimson hair flowed down his shoulders and rested atop his lower back.

The youth had time to carefully observe Troy. The man wore all green, and it was a modest attire of cloth decor. The man kept a simple air about himself, and carried the bundles that Dyne recently gave to him. Dyne's pockets were lined with the gold he recently acquired from his commanding officer. A chance to make the elite Scarlet Brigade? That was worth everything to Dyne. It would propel his household back into great standing, and bring great honor to the youth.

Troy kept the bundle underneath his arm. Dyne observed the meticulous care with which the older lad carried himself with. His face was clean shaved and well chiseled. Powerful cheekbones were the signature of native Coronians. His nose was wide and broad. Nostrils were currently not flared out, but in a neutral position. A few braided locks were visible in his long black hair. His hair ended at shoulder length and was kept loose, but well combed. Troy had an astounding physique. His black leather gloves contained large, hammer like hands.

He was handsome by most standards but had a cold edge to him. Dyne could respect that with all of the madness in his own life. The younger man turned his gaze away from his superior officer returning it to the road ahead of him now. His fists were clenched as he walked, but his shoulders were relaxed and loose. He was prepared for a scrap should one occur at any moment.

But thankfully, this day had thusly been without any barroom brawls. Drunks often touted chaotic rantings as they prepared to engage fellows in the bar with hostile intent. Today was a relatively calm day in Underwood. People walked about wearing commoner's attire. They completed the various chores of the day. Every task that needed completion was take care of with the preciseness of a bee's hive.

Dyne studied the people moving about. A Civil War erupted throughout Corne but there were places in the land that were unscathed by the ravages of warfare. After about five minutes of pointless philosophical insight, Dyne saw that Troy lead them to the headquarters of the Corone Rangers in Underwood. From his current membership in the Rangers, Dyne was able to learn that the Rangers were in deep mobilization attempting to return power back to the people. They fought against the sins of the Corone Empire. He wondered how the House of Sora would view the Corone Ranger's military stance on the Empire and the war.

A stout building greeted them. It was a brownstone building made in the typical Underwood style. A chimney built on top of the structure spewed steam into the air suggesting that a fireplace was lit somewhere in the structure. The building appeared to be several floors tall, and had the mannerisms of a home rather than a secret meeting place. Floating in the wind, a single sign marked the edifice as a property of the Corone Rangers.

"We're here. Get yourself ready Dyne." Troy had taken the package with him before they left the Promenade and placed it back in his personal belongings. Dyne nodded towards Troy's commentary. The warrior proceeded forward once Troy opened the door to allow them both into the structure. Once inside, Dyne entered a well lit room. Glow orbs manufactured by the Wood Elves of Concordia lit the room up with a warm glow. A fireplace lurked towards the North end of the room and had a crackling blaze, fueled by firewood lit up in its form.

"I am ready." Dyne replied.

"Good. We'll ready a horse for you and provide you with some maps so you can be on your way."

"What happens if bandits attack me along the way?"

"Defeat them." Troy shrugged.

[Alberdyne_Cormyr]

Surprisingly enough, the trip to his destination went off without a hitch. Passing a stream of refugees along the way to Jadet, Dyne knew he was supposed to visit a particular individual. One of the locale Dukes. The very fact of the matter made Dyne's heart ache for his late Father. He felt the painful loss even as he skillfully commanded his horse. Sensing the animal's thoughts had become a matter of fact process. Dyne let his hand touch the side of his horse's neck. The saddle was well equipped with the basics one needed for travel far away from Underwood.

Encountering the stream of refugees made Dyne's heart ache. He helped out all that he could by handing out a few pieces of gold to those that he felt needed the most help. Dyne helped all he could by handing out those few loose gold pieces to the most needy of the group. Some of them were war veterans fleeing the ravages of Corone's Civil War. It was these people, displaced by the ongoing war, that were hurt the most by it. Dyne saw a man with one leg walking on a cane and maneuvered towards him.

"You there. How goes the front line?"

They immediately recognized Dyne's attire as a Corone Ranger.

"The Empire is scoring too many wins against us. Those Inquisition bastards are too well equipped by the crown of the Emperor." And the blessings of the Thaynehood, Dyne imagined.

"Where are you off to good sir?" Dyne said.

"Serenti. We're leaving Corone. Corone isn't safe anymore. Many of us are heading off to Dheathain, Antioch, or even to Salvar. You should leave too, the Corone Rangers aren't heroes of the state anymore good lad. You're all marked as rogues and brigands by the new Empire." The man said with a frown. He was an elder gentleman that had seen many battles in during the Civil War. An eye patch covered his right eye, and he had ruffled hair colored brown.

The highlights served to augment the common color. His single eye reflected deep brown eyes with a certain ferocity that lurked within them. He had a rounded chin, but a square formed jaw. Dyne knew he was looking at a true Coronian. His nose was well structure with large nostrils. He had a scar traveling down where his injured eye was. Dyne guessed one of the Inquisition's blades got him on that side of his face. The scar was vicious. Dyne noticed the commoner's attire. However, some metals and insignias were upon his shirt suggesting that he was a veteran of the war on the side of the Corone Rangers' Republic.

Dyne knew these brave souls were fighting a loosing war.

"I intend to keep fighting. You all should head for safety. Live the rest of your days in seclusion until it is safe to return back to Corone." Dyne said calmly.

"You don't seem to get it you naive boy." The people around the war veteran suddenly stopped moving. There was anger in his voice. "The whole world is going upside down son. There's even rumors in ranks of the Monks of Ai'Bron that Raiaera has finally fallen to that bastard Xem'Zund. Eluriand has fallen, Valinatal has fallen. And look at what has happened to our precious land of freedom. It's all over kid. The end is coming. There's talk that N'Jal has returned and there's a second age of darkness upon us. You should get out while the getting's good kid." The old veteran shook his head and started to walk off before the young Corone Ranger could say anything Dyne frowned at the man's response.

A few individuals in the caravan looked up at Dyne with looks of sadness and indifference. Dyne could not believe what he was seeing. An entire generation of Corone's finest simply tucking their heads between their legs and fleeing! It made Dyne sick to his stomach, but he had to respect their decision making process. After all, he was right about one thing. Corone wasn't a safe place anymore. "Hi-yah!" Dyne yelled and let his horse go off on a full gallop in Jadet's general direction. He had to go back to the task at hand.

********

Once he arrived at Jadet, Dyne studied the architecture of the town. So far, the ravages of the war hadn't touched the town like they had Radasanth. The outskirts of the city had the main guarding area. Several encampments were set up with some of Jadet's troops guarding the outskirts of the city. A walled structure surrounded the buildings of Jadet in a typical fashion of Corone's native architecture. The wall was over fifty feet high and only the tallest spires of some of the towers and buildings of Jadet were taller than the wall. Stone masonry was predominant in Corone's architecture. Jadet was a city built by the men of Corone, in tandem with the Dwarves and the Elves.

Buildings constructed by the Dwarves had a sort of robust appearance to them and were built in a stout, squareish kind of fashion. Much of the architecture of the Dwarves had great pillars and columns similar to the mines of Kachuk. Moving past the customs of the city was an ordeal. The guards of Jadet didn't want the Civil War entering their doorsteps. They didn't want bloodshed in their streets. So when a Jadet Soldier approached Dyne and gave him a once over, the Patriarch of Lodge Bladestorm knew he was in for a seriously rough time.

"State your business Ranger." The soldier said. He was well armored and stood at a tall stature. The man was easily well over six heads high. His broad shoulders suggested an athletic physique. The man's helmet placed a shadow over his eyes so Dyne couldn't make out what color they were or what the man was thinking. The man drew a steel longsword that suggest masterwork quality. His armor was made of plynt. Dyne did not doubt that these men would defend their city with everything they had, even against the Inquisitions' well trained and equipped forces. Dyne narrowed his eyes in thin slits as he observed the actions of the man. "I'm here to see Duke Xiall, I have a delivery for him from Kastor Troy." Hearing the words, the man motioned for one of his Superior Officers to join the affair. Dyne sighed.

This was going to get ugly.

"Are you a courier?"

"For the Rangers yessir." Dyne replied wanting to get this ugly business over with quickly.

The second man was about the same imposing size as the first man. The first man held onto the reigns of Dyne's horse as if preventing the duo from attempting a hasty escape. "Times are rough Ranger. Rangers aren't well liked by the government anymore. Especially after that rebellion. So let me see this parcel that you're taking to the Duke." Hesitating, Dyne knew that he had on choice in the matter. He removed the parcel from his personal packs and showed him the well sized package. It was wrapped tightly in leather. The package was bound with the seal common by Kastor Troy and the Corone Rangers. Examining the bound package, the second man took a glance at it. "Do you have your identification papers?" The man asked.

"Right here sir. I always carry them with me." Dyne took out his identification materials for the Corone Rangers. He also had his ID from the House of Sora, the silver locket chain constantly worn around his neck. As the leader of the Lodge Bladestorm, the youth had to set the appropriate example for the rest of the House of Sora. Unafraid, he handed the papers to the man who looked them over. They were officially marked by the seal of the government. After all, Dyne was the son of a Duke himself. "How long do you intend to stay in Jadet?" The superior officer asked. "A few days, a week at the most." Dyne responded. And he noticed that the man nodded to himself grumbling something beneath his breath.

The man handed Dyne his papers back and the parcel. "All right. I was informed that parcel would arrive this month." Looking at his superior officer, the first soldier had an air of concern about him. "We're gonna let him enter? That doesn't seem wise Sir." Looking at the other soldier, the superior officer shook his head. "It doesn't matter, he's clear. Let him pass!" His voice boomed and the other soldiers gathered in the customs area acknowledge Dyne as a guest of the city. "Don't overstay your welcome kid."

The first soldier said. Dyne nodded. "I don't intend to Sir."

*****************************

Riding through the streets of Jadet on horseback was a rare treat. With all of the stresses of the war and the House of Sora, the youth rarely had time to take in his surroundings. He studied the unique combination of Dwarven architecture and Elvish architecture. The fusion of cultures was almost as unique as the melting pot that existed within Radasanth. Dyne studied the various buildings knowing that he would have to get himself a souvenir or two from Jadet's shopping district. Jadet was a wealthy town that functioned as one of Corone's main port cities. Serenti being the other.

Serving as a safe haven for those people wishing to flee the war, Jadet was a wayward point to the other great nations of Althanas. Dyne oft went to Salvar by ship to check on his estate in Salvar. He took the routes offered by Jadet's port city. This wasn't the first time he had to clear customs, and the youth knew that it wasn't the last. Moving towards the housing district, Dyne knew that the Duke's estate lay on the outskirts of the town towards the East. He traveled on horseback noticing the eager stares given to him by some of the pretty ladies of Jadet. Dyne would have to indulge in siring a few of them in his spare time. But for now, his main concern was delivering the package.

Arriving in front of the Duke's Manor, Dyne noticed that the architecture was purely human in nature. It seemed to predate the Demon War and was one of the surviving relics of that hostile time period. Dyne approached the gates of the estate noticing that the city's wall seemed larger on the inside of the city than on the outside. Even on horseback, many of the buildings were many heads taller than Dyne's short physique. Even on horseback. There were guards waiting to greet Dyne at the gate too. He moved quickly towards those guards and greeted them with a simple greeting by pounding his chest with his left fist. "Hail." Dyne said. One of the guards immediately looked up at the young Patriarch. "It's him." The guard said and let him pass. The gates were immediately open to the youth.

He traveled up a few yards further. There was a stone road that went directly up towards the manor. Several people were working on a large lawn that had many trees. Various oaks and even a few liviol trees imported from the Liviol Sanctum in Scara Brae. Dyne was approached by some individual workers of the estate. The Patriarch couldn't help but sigh at this moment when he say the individual come up to him. "We're here to take your horse to the stable Ranger. You're welcome to stay on as a guest of the Duke."

"All right, I am thankful for your courtesy." Dyne said casually. And allowed them to lead him to the stables...

************


...Sometime later it was straight to business. Dyne sat on a comfortable chair that was made by human carpenters from Corone. There was a room in the estate that was a meeting hall. Many paintings depicting Jadet's rich history were located upon the walls of the room. The ceiling was pretty high and decorated with a single chandelier that was equipped with glowing orbs of light. The lighting in the room was pretty warm. A single fireplace held a small inferno raging against the logs that fed it. Smoke flowed up the chimney of the house. Dyne noticed all types of decorative vases and other pieces of artwork that the Duke seemed to favor collecting.

The atmosphere in the room was calm. Dyne was staring at Duke Michel Xiall was a man of average height. He stood well over five heads in height, leaning closely towards six heads. His hair was long and nearly jet black in texture and color. He had a slender, long face that suggested he had Elvish blood in him somewhere. His nose was thin, but his cheeks were actually well rounded. His chin was tiny and pointed. A small cleft was visible at the epicenter of the structure. His eyebrows were thin and well maintained. He was obviously a man that cared very greatly about his appearance. His lips were tiny and upturned in a sly smile.

He had a gentle frown upon his face and eyes filled with intellect. His glasses rested a bit too low on his nose. He was a handsome man by most standards in an exotic sort of way. His skin tone was slightly on the browner side. He wore an intricate amulet made of gold around his neck, and his clothing was made of Vlince. He wore an intricate outfit of greens and browns, earth tones, that matched his complexion. He wore a lot of jewelry and a fancy hat that was tilted to the side of his head. "How is Troy these days?" The man asked in a soft, but gentle voice.

"Stressed." Dyne responded. "I have the package for you right here." The courier said and placed it on the table that sat between the two of them. It was blue, suggesting it was made of fine and sturdy liviol. Dyne slid the package towards Michel. "Excellent." The man clapped. "You also delivered it on time, so you've earned your bonus."

"Bonus?"

"Didn't Kastor tell you?"

"He doesn't tell me a lot about the inner workings of the Rangers. You can say that I'm still a new Ranger and am working my way up the Ranks. I hope to make the Scarlet Brigade one day."

"Most excellent! Radasanth could use more brave kids like you. But yeah I digress from the point. For delivering the packages on time, you get a bonus. It's not much, but its a little something extra to fund your business for the future. The Rangers worked this out many ages ago and its customary to pay their messengers something extra."

Dyne chuckled at that and took a pull of his goblet. "Are you sure you don't want some ale? It's strange that you requested juice instead of my fine ale. I have an impressive brewery." The Duke said. "I'm not interested in ale my friend. It damages your body." Dyne responded. "Besides, I'm on the job and I need to maintain my sobriety. I don't want to end up one of those drunk fools that occupy far too many taverns." The man clapped again. "Well said! You've got a good head on your shoulders. No wonder the House of Sora rose you up in rank so quickly." Dyne nodded. "I'm not sure that it was anything I did in particular. But Seti Dylan took a liking to me and that's what counts. When your superiors trust you." Michel nodded. "That is a well spoken sentiment. In any event here is your bonus. You're welcome to stay here at the manor as my personal guest while you stay in Jadet." The man said. "I would like that." Dyne responded.

"Good its settled then." The man handed Dyne a modest pay for the job at hand.

The End.

************************************************** **************

~Spoils Request~

001-500 gold given to Dyne from the Duke for delivering the package on time.

002-Blacksmithing. Dyne is now able to forge Excellent quality weapons and armor from Tiers 1 & 2. ((Copper, Brass, Steel, and Iron))

[Skie and Avery]

Quest Judging
House of Sora: Artisans Trade Mission ((Solo))

STORY

Continuity ~ 4/10. How did he get from being a noble to a blacksmith? What happened to his father? Why did his mother cut him (if she did..)? You gave me a lot about the continued story of Corone, but not really anything about your character.
Setting ~ 5/10. This got better at the end, else it would have been worse. Just like apparently blacksmithing is like painting (lol wut?), writing is more so. You failed in painting these scenes for me. The description was chunky and almost like a shopping list of features. I liked that you tried to incorporate more sensory details than just sight, but a lot of them were used improperly. Example:

Staring in satisfaction at the weapons he'd received and the quality of the armor, Troy banged his hand against the chest piece. He heard the sound of a fist against metal and smiled at the quality of the armor.
Post eighteen. Wow, I didn't know that the quality of the armor could be tested by seeing if you hear the sound of a fist against metal when you hit your fist against metal. If you had actually told me how the sound of his fist hitting the metal here differed than the sound it would make if he hit a lesser quality piece, it would have made sense.
Pacing ~ 4/10. There were times in here where I felt that there was substance for the sake of substance. In post sixteen, there's a whole paragraph of it.

Atop the Peaceful Promenade, a single roof tile burst off the building suddenly as a hornet trapped a spider within its grasp. The single tile bounced off the building and rolled all the way down the length of the roof. Following a predetermined trail, the tile tumbled off the roof and onto the pedestrian crowd below. It fell all the way down and hit Dyne on the head as he walked directly underneath the path of the single tile. "Ouch!" The apprentice cried out as he rubbed his head suddenly, feeling a bump develop from the impact of the object against his skull. Dyne felt familiar and old pains pop up as he was hit by the tile. He saw the thing land on the floor nearby.

Several people that were walking passed the man shot glanced in the psionic's general direction. The stares were questioning in nature. Dyne grinned mischievously while rubbing the bump on his head. Damn I have the worst luck ever! Seeing the tile on the floor, Dyne kicked it into a nearby gutter and let it flow downstream, just another memory.
Oh, I lied. A paragraph and a half of mindless drivel. If you wanted to show his bad luck, this entire load of stuff that has nothing to do with the story could have been condensed into three sentences. Four, max.

CHARACTER

Dialogue ~ 5/10. Your conversations weren't that bad, but they didn't feel sincere. It was felt that it was the writer talking out loud, and not the characters. Also, watch your spacing with dialogue. Example:

"Don't overstay your welcome kid."

The first soldier said. Dyne nodded. "I don't intend to Sir."
Very awkward there. The paragraph change should come after 'the first soldier said.'
Action ~ 4/10. What action? Sad hammer, acid trip, happy hammer, talk talk talk, something important? Oh, more blacksmithing, talk talk something important? Oh...package delivery. Ooo, stopped by the border guards...oh...they knew you were coming. The acid trip saved you.
Persona ~ 3/10. This character was flat and I couldn't relate to him at all. The only thing that makes him stand out from a blank character sheet is that he doesn't drink.

WRITING STYLE

Technique ~ 3/10. I felt like I was reading something written by someone in junior high. You used a lot of simple sentences, had absolutely no flow, and dropped the ball when it came to translating your vision and ideas into prose. You were VERY repetitive. I noticed it first in the beginning, but it wasn't something that you worked out of. I don't need the same sentence several times over, even if you do rework the wording each time. If you just can't see what was wrong, here's one sentence from your first post that I think highlights the problem rather clearly.

Upon the alter stood the copper bars, ready to be worked on the super-heat that the structure created so that Dyne could shape the bars properly into whatever final product he needed to shape.
Also, I believe the word you were going for in there was "altar". You have to watch out for those homonyms because they're a right bitch and only serve to make you look like a dumbass.
Mechanics ~ 6/10. For the most part, okay, but you make a lot of the same mistakes over and over again. Work on proper comma usage and putting question marks instead of periods when it's applicable. There was a sentence where it was like you were going with two separate ways of expressing it, melded them together and got Frankenstein's Failed Grammar Test.

Dyne was staring at Duke Michel Xiall was a man of average height.
Clarity ~ 6/10. You have a big problem with swapping words in a sentence that fucks it all up. Watch for this, definitely. I'll show you a few examples so you can see what I mean when I say that they really mess up clarity, and when read, stick in the mind for a while.

A recent influx of refugees fleeing from the ravages of the work placed an immediate work force on the table.

No I can't take a great.

Looking at his available made, the youth made some key measurements.
Also, pay attention to what you have your character and NPCs doing. At one point, you wrote this in describing your NPC.

His lips were tiny and upturned in a sly smile.

He had a gentle frown upon his face...
And if it hadn't been the NPC who was seemingly both frowning and smiling slyly at the same time, you were no where near clear about who was doing what with their lips.
MISCELLANEOUS

Wild Card ~ 3/10. I expected much better from someone who has been around as long as I have, if not longer.

TOTAL ~ 43/100.

Alberdyne_Cormyr gains 1659 EXP and 500 GP

As far as your other requested spoil goes, here is what I grant:

Blacksmithing Dyne may forge tier 1 & 2 weapons to above average quality with consistency, and an excellent quality weapon rarely - One (1) time every fifteen (15) threads.

If there's any problem you have with this judgment or your spoils, my AIM name is RestitutionSpork or you may get in touch with me via a Private Message. However, I will say that AIM is far more reliable.