You call this a sword?
Hello Minds true believers. Animeman73 here with some more work for the #IBASwordtember challenge from Inessa Burnell.
For day 11 the word/Subject is: Bland. But I can tell you the story is anything but bland. I always strive to entertain, so let the fantasy goodness begin.
“You call this a sword?” 18-year-old Karal Marlock asked.
The person he was asking the question of was an older man. Both wore the attire of blacksmiths. “You got that right,” the older brown-haired man stated.
“But Master Willoway, this sword is so… bland.” The young man complained. “I see no designs of any kind on it.”
Garvin Willoway, Karal’s mentor nodded. “That’s right lad. No fancy carvings of any kind on it. Those smiths who make swords with ridiculous designs are nothing but rank amateurs!”
He took the plain looking sword Karal held from one hand. He looked over the bland and plain handle and the blade. He nodded his approval. “Good, good lad! Exactly as I instructed you. Solid and sturdy.”
The older man then took the finished sword and put it on a shelf. Then he returned to the teen.
“People forget a sword is a tool meant for killing. Our job is not to make weapons with fancy designs for the enhancement of noble egos. We make weapons for the hard-working soldiers and mercenaries. They who protect us and see to this land’s wellbeing.”
“Karal, get some more coals out then pour them into the fire. Then get it warmed up. We’ll need it plenty hot to begin making the next blade.
"We have a lot of work to do for Constable Windstarr’s men.” Master Willoway instructed.
Karal sighed and did as his mentor asked. Yet he felt more than a trifle disappointed. When I became Master Willoway’s apprentice I thought I’d make powerful weapons. The kind that would be both deadly and exquisite to the eye, not this boring rubbish.
The young man poured the coal into it then got out the bellows for the forge. He blew air into it and the fire roared to life. He continued this for a couple minutes.
Then the older man put a hand on him. “That’ll do lad. It’s good to get the fire nice and hot. But we don’t want it getting too hot lest the metal get weakened.”
Karal sighed and went to get some of the ore Master Willoway had bought. He brought it back to the older man. As he brought it back, he saw the man looking at him. “Feeling bored are you lad?” the older man asked in amusement.
Karal gaped. “How did you guess Master Willoway?” he asked.
“Because I was young and idealistic like you once. I wanted to make great andintricate weapons that would inspire fear in enemies and awe in others. But I learned life doesn’t always give you what you want.” He commented.
“It’s so unfair sir, I wanted to make a difference. Become an artisan that would create swords like in the old legends.”
The older blacksmith snorted. “Lad, you’re going to find that the old stories are more often than not embellished for dramatic effect. And we are making a difference here.”
Karal’s face furrowed. “How, we’re only making weapons for the local warriors and guards.”
Garvin Willoway nodded his confirmation. “Indeed, we are. Those weapons will go to protecting the populace from all manner of threats.”
Karal’s face furrowed. “But who from beyond would want to harm us? River Mouth Way is a simple trading town.”
“A simple trading town that bandits and other nasties out there would love to get their grubby hands on.” The man pointed out.
“I don’t see why." Karal retorted.
“A trading town like this brings much coin. Add in the likes of Henrich and his gang of thugs shaking people down and enough said.” The blacksmith explained.
Karal thought for a moment and realized the local blacksmith had a point. Willoway put a hand on the young man’s right shoulder.
“Karal, the weapons we make here aren’t the most glamourous. But Willoway’s weapons have a knack for being strong and durable."
“Looks don’t matter if you have a weapon that can handle long hours of combat. A good weapon can be all that stands between life and death in this dangerous world.”
Karal thought about that and realized Master Willoway had a point.
“Come on lad," the older man said. "Let’s get back to it. We have more weapons to make for the constabulary.
"We have to help keep them armed so they can protect us.”
“Yes, Master Willoway,” the young man responded as they got back to work.