• Closed • Curiosity and Caution

[Norgrim Dyrdahl]

~4 Cylus 716-
The morning sun waning across the mountains which surrounded Treidhart, it illuminating Norgrim's simple abode as it were. The prior day for this young craftsman has been easily the most peculiar of his life thus far. From gaining the rare audience of an Elder, to the apparent interruption of an attempt upon his life, and then to this gift which currently rested within his palm. Glimmering from the morning sun as it's light seemed to dance within the crystalline structure, Norgrim's eyes upon the short-sword's hilt as it's chill permeated his hand and forearm. The weapon itself still alien to him, a few casual swings through the air upon his rising tested it's weight and heft. As expected from ice it was far lighter than weapons made of steel or possessing a substrate of it, in fact in comparison to his hatchet the sword felt as a feather in his hand. Such seemed odd while Norgrim continued to get accustomed to his latest gift. For the moment his mouth silent and visage stoic, arms moving slow along with a wrist that seemed hesitant to articulate.

"I may not know just how to use you quite yet, however you deserve a place far better than the loop of my belt. I suppose it's time to buy a scabbard..."

Words trailing off in that sentence, only for the Ellune to place the weapon once more, and for the last time, within his belt loop. No caring for the time to don a shirt or boots, the cold morning air was refreshing to him as it should be. The breeze today carrying from the east, something that seemed to distract him enough as to cause a momentary release of any worry within his mind. With key in hand, and soon there after within his pocket, Norgrim advanced to the door of his home. Stopping as it were before his lips upturned into a faint smirk, only chuckling to himself as it were, once more words whispered to himself.

"You fool Norgrim, there's no way you can buy a scabbard without any coin upon you."

His door for the time open, the young craftsman shied from the light which shone through it, only to step off near his mantle and clutch a simple bag. The clatter of coin within it obvious, yet all the same there was no worry within the man, as more oft than not those who were to do something simply saw the man and turned away. His grim countenance usually too much for them to bear enduring more than a cursory look, as such he simply secured the pouch upon his belt, and the new dagger tucked within one of it's loops. The young man finally departed into the iced streets of his home, his door shut with a single click as the man's key was pulled from it's latch. Taking a moment to draw in the morning chill, eyes opening to only briefly survey the lay of the streets before him as Norgrim finally stepped forth.

"Now only to see if Vasir is at least willing to sell something today..."

[Shards]

The rocky cave was dimly lit and encrusted with iced formations. So small was this cave, that two figures were huddled within, sitting on creaking timber stools as they were intensely focused on an object in their hands. A blue light was pulsating from their hands and in the freezing air, ice crystals formed and coalesced into an liquid that wobbled before a hand smoothed over to solidify and straighten it into a line.

'No...your hand here...maintain balance....' A voice was whispering within. The intensity of the words seemed to reverberate in the air as it reflected about the million icy fragments to create a lasting echo. '...yes, that's it. It is complete.'

As the sound dissipated, so too did the icy glow and all that remained was a dark silence...

Suddenly a scream of hinges cut the silence and brought a flood of light into the small cave. The figures, now seen to be two Ellune, had already clambered out of their temporary hovel and fur coats were flumped carelessly to the side of a sparse, singularly lit, room. The door was forced shut behind them. Morning light streamed in, illuminating thousands of dust particles that somersaulted with the rigor of morning exercise. The sound of the outside seemed to waft in through gaps in the door opposite, giving only a vague sense of the hustle and bustle of Treidhart's morning crowd.

The older of the two Ellune, held an icy blade within his hands. He turned it about with a hand and his face was morose. The look seemed to make his already loosely hung skin, droop further from his face. His hair line seemed to recede further as he frowned and the thin sheet of fabric wrapped from his head, seemed to shift back and forth as his brow rose up and down as he looked over the sword. An eye flicked open along the base of the blade. The iris, a tiny dot in a pool of blue, expanded and contracted, as the eye ran its focus along the edge.

The young Ellune next to him looked back and forth at the blade and his master's expression. His young, smooth face and well-kept long grey hair, were almost in complete opposite to the craggy facial features of his Master. The boy wore only a modest fabric wrap about his body and his face was tinged with a will to impress.

The eye slid away from the blade and moved sideways.

'There is a air pocket near the back of the blade.' The old Ellune spoke softly to the boy. 'You didn't maintain adequate pressure of the ice during formation. Luckily it is not close to the edge, or this would have been a fatal flaw. I also see a small hairline fissure along the middle but it is parallel to the blade, not perpendicular.' His little finger traced the almost invisible line. 'This is caused from differential expansion and contractions. Had you maintained balance in both hands, the crack would have been avoided.' He nodded to himself. 'It's a fine blade. It is no masterwork, but it will fetch an adequate price.'

The sigh of relief from the young Ellune was not audible, but his body seemed to expire in relief.

'Come, Riyan.' The Master chuckled out of his apparent seriousness as he grabbed the scruff of the boy's neck, the blade safely clamped between his fingers. 'Indeed, I see some improvement but all of that will come in time.'

He opened the door from his workshop and suddenly the sound of crowds seemed to rush in past them. The shop, filled with weapons and armor, opened directly into a large cavern filled with a mass of people came into view. An enormous arc of light was thrown from a large opening in the side of the cavern onto the hundreds of Ellune that moved about doing their morning business. In the hands of these Ellune were baskets of food, carried in hands and on their head, some carried objects in bags and a few were clambering large pieces of ice furniture.

The Master's trained eyes grazed over the rows upon rows of all kinds of weapons - mainly of ice. Swords of all imaginable sizes sat in delicately thin ice stands. Their colors ranged from white to grey to light blue to the deepest blues. Axes, maces and every kind of weapon to bludgeon, to slice, to stick and garrotte seemed to have a place in the store. On the other side, armor on stands sat, from thin translucent icy armor, to thick impenetrable armor that seemed almost impossible for an Ellune to even move in.

A sign marked the store: Vasir Ina'kai hung from chains above his store. He sniffed at the sign - it was in need of being redone. The light from the cave degraded it only slightly. He ignored the sign as he thought of all the blades he still had to do. He was indeed, Vasir Ina'kai, eleventh Master Ice Smith of the Alnae School and he had a fine morning. His apprentice was on his way to be a fine sword maker and business had been going well. It was only his joints throbbing from crouching in the ice forge, that seemed liable to spoil his day. As he turned, he was rather pleased to find one of the few chairs in his store nearby. He sat heavily and sighed in relief.

[Norgrim Dyrdahl]

Traffic remained thankfully light as the morning sun continued it's climb over the mountains about Treidhart, the streets partially iced over yet glimmering in what was shaping up to be a pleasant, icy day. Norgrim of course opting to enjoy this day, as this was his chosen period of rest. Only meandering about, opting to glance around while musing to himself over just what it is that he should do after buying his scabbard. The young man's idle pace eventually carried him to Vasir's shop, thankfully the telltale traffic about it meant that the shop was in fact open, a semi-pleased smile forming across the young male's countenance before finally stepping in.

Taking a few moments to glance about the rock-hewn shop, various blades within stands glistened within the prevailing light, as did his own while it remain tucked reasonably comfortably within Norgrim's belt. All the same, the young man's eyes, today being relaxed yet still wearied from his life and especially the events which occurred yesterday, came only to locate Vasir as the senior male came to rest.

"Ah, I was hoping you would have your shop open today Vasir. I actually have a matter that requires your eye for weaponry if you don't mind the question."

The request stated plainly, yet without the full grating nature of Norgrim's tongue. Perhaps today was simply a good day for him, or he simply was riding a little euphoric rush from the winds which carried a healthy chill through Treidhart's streets. Regardless, as he approached Vasir, the young man's blade cast a few glints of light with the motions. Norgrim only reaching to his belt, grasping the blade in an inverse grip. The short sword to him appeared as any of Vasir's own works, after all Norgrim had previous dealings with the smith, if only minimal.

His wrist pivoting, Norgrim presented the blade horizontally to Vasir for the male to inspect. His right palm supporting the tip while standing before the senior male, not wishing to making him stand as he was more than sympathetic to the labors of a craftsman. Knowing instead it was better than he move to Vasir and let the aged male get what rest he could today.

"Simply put, I want to know if you either have a proper scabbard already here for me to buy, or perhaps a form that I myself can finish. Either way I've all intentions of paying you for it, though for a blade like this I can't exactly say I'm completely familiar with the kind of scabbard it requires."

[Shards]

Vasir leaned back in his seat to enjoy the full comfort of his chair. He rubbed his thumb down his fingers thoughtfully as he stared at a set of armor nearby. Suddenly, one of his eyebrows pricked up at the entry of a customer. An average height Ellune, at 8 feet, walked towards him, noting a heavy beard, dark eyes and the something quite familiar about the resilient look about this fellow that made Vasir narrow his eyes somewhat.

Ah, I was hoping you would have your shop open today Vasir. I actually have a matter that requires your eye for weaponry if you don't mind the question.

His voice seemed matter-of-fact and as crisp as the cold morning air. The use of the Ice Smith’s first name, seemed to provide an edge of familiarity that Vasir was attempting to locate. He could not. And he let that go as the customer approached further and Vasir’s eyes reflected the flash of an ice sword. Vasir leaned forward from his chair, his hands clasping his thighs in mild curiosity.

The ends of Vasir’s mouth drooped into a frown at the sign of the short sword that was drawn and presented forth to him. He glanced to and fro over its length while the customer spoke:

Simply put, I want to know if you either have a proper scabbard already here for me to buy, or perhaps a form that I myself can finish. Either way I've all intentions of paying you for it, though for a blade like this I can't exactly say I'm completely familiar with the kind of scabbard it requires.

Vasir regarded the man that stood over him with an almost closed right eye. His fingers clamped over the blade edge, as if he were picking fruit from a tree.

‘Mind if I take a closer look…?’

He rose with blade in hand and as he had done a thousand times, looked down the run of the blade, flipped it over and did the same on the other side.

‘Not one of my work…’ He mused.

‘Riyan, get me the eye-glass,’ he called out without looking at the boy who had clasped a dense piece of crystal from the icy counter. The boy tossed it and Vasir swiped it from the air and placed it his eye. He held the ice sword to the morning light that streamed in from the entrance of the cave. He looked closely at the sharp edge of the blade. He placed the eye-glass on a ledge next to his chair.

‘Interesting…’ He exhaled cheerfully, his frown disappearing as he handed the blade back to the customer. ‘A crude weapon, procured rapidly in favorable temperature conditions and with the precision of one trained to do so during battle – and done well. Therefore, I know better than to question who made this for you. All aside, this is a weapon that is not built to last indefinitely. I advise a standard ice scabbard modified with an icy cushion around the throat to prevent the edge from chipping on the draw. Which we will have ready in a few moments.’ He glanced at Riyan with raised eyebrows, who nodded back. ‘A standard scabbard with this modification would be nine gold nels, seven for the scabbard and two for the modification - if you are happy to proceed?’

[Norgrim Dyrdahl]

The moment Vasir's hand grasped the blade itself, Norgrim acquiesced. The question more rhetorical than anything, as after all Vasir knew far more of weaponry than Norgrim ever could. The younger male was one who knew the trade of leather, as such he understood armor and garments far more than the actual preparation and storage of such weaponry. Norgrim's hands as a result lowered while the senior male examined the blade, Norgrim's eyes taking the time to examine the weapon itself. Glancing to follow Vasir's expert gaze, attempting to understand just what it is the elder male was looking for. Norgrim himself only noticing the crystalline structure which he knew from his own use to indicate proper ice formation. The lack of immediate air pockets meaning that such was a solid piece and unwilling to shatter easily.

"Interesting…"

Vasir's single word snapped the young man's attention back from his abrupt study of the weapon he received not even a day prior, Norgrim's own stare locking to the elder male as he continued. Fingers clasping about the hilt of it, once more holding such in an inverse grip, knowledgeable enough to at least know such should be aimed downward when not ready to strike.

"A crude weapon, procured rapidly in favorable temperature conditions and with the precision of one trained to do so during battle – and done well. Therefore, I know better than to question who made this for you. All aside, this is a weapon that is not built to last indefinitely. I advise a standard ice scabbard modified with an icy cushion around the throat to prevent the edge from chipping on the draw. Which we will have ready in a few moments."

The brief pause as Vasir looked to his assistant gave Norgrim a few precious moments to digest the phrase and further understand what happened yesterday. In particular the mentioning of one who knew the art of war caught the young man's mind, the gravity of it finally beginning to dawn upon him as to what occurred the day prior. Yet again the elder's voice pulled his focus back to the reality of what was at hand.

"A standard scabbard with this modification would be nine gold nels, seven for the scabbard and two for the modification - if you are happy to proceed?"

Norgrim's eyes taking the time to focus once more upon the elder, only for his remaining hand to grasp the coin purse which hung at his belt. Somewhat flustered, likely in an obvious fashion, yet all the same as Norgrim spoke he proceeded to the counter. Ready to pay with what he had, and in turn receive the scabbard so such a blade could be housed properly, at least for whatever kind of life it was to have.

"A-ah, yes that's fine Vasir. You've more than shown your skill at this, as such your prices are fair, I believe you said similar to me as well after I showed you the first few orders of leather scabbards you placed." [/center]

[/font]

[Shards]

Vasir made sure the price was slightly lower than usual in the event he had dealt with his customer before. He noticed that the customer had a sense of being under pressure when being provided the cost for the scabbard. When the bearded fellow went to pay and Riyan collected the coin, Vasir pursed his lips in thought.

A-ah, yes that's fine Vasir. You've more than shown your skill at this, as such your prices are fair, I believe you said similar to me as well after I showed you the first few orders of leather scabbards you placed.

Vasir left eye brow rose again slightly and he let out a silent 'ah'. Still standing, his thumb began to rub absently at the base of his middle finger as he thought for a moment.

'I thank you, that was a kind compliment. Forgive me that I did not recognize your face sooner. I had an inkling that I had dealt with you earlier. Luckily, I discounted the price anyway.' He nodded to Riyan to continue the transaction. Vasir stretched and his shoulder popped satisfyingly. He strode to the side of the store, his back to the customer and picked up a leather scabbard from the few that leaned on the wall. He made that deep frown as he glanced over it, flipping it over with one hand and catching it.

'Fine work. Yes, some of my blades are particularly suited to these scabbards. But in the case of your sword, you were right to come here. Your short sword would have degraded if it were sheathed in leather.' He placed the leather scabbard back carefully. Vasir suddenly brightened as he realized there was an opportunity to make good his blunder. He straightened and turned his head sidelong with the corner of his eye looking at the customer.

'Now, I wonder, are you practiced with a short sword...ah...Mr?'

[Norgrim Dyrdahl]

The now nearly empty coin-purse was tied back to the young man's belt loop. Far from a nominal parting of coin, however he new that he was far from broke, at least enough to last through until his wages were given out. Regardless the younger male only had to be careful from here on forward. But now such a concern was at the back of his mind, for upon grasping the scabbard from Riyan, his eyes traveled about it momentarily. Examining the shape and structure of it as best he could, finally placing his own blade within it, the trademark click of a blade housed bought a faint smile to his rougher countenance. However Vasir's remarks only further drew the young man's attention, Norgrim taking another moment to glance back at the elder, his own shoulders rolling as to release some unseen tension within them.

"I thank you, that was a kind compliment. Forgive me that I did not recognize your face sooner. I had an inkling that I had dealt with you earlier. Luckily, I discounted the price anyway."

An eyebrow raised, Norgrim's smile growing slightly at such a minor revelation, however all the same it seems Vasir's memory wasn't quite as far gone as some uttered in the streets. Regardless, Norgrim always was one to understand the worth of quality, anyone who saw his own works could attest to such after all. Such was the courtesy of one craftsman to another, a sort of unspoken community between all of them in one fashion or another.

"Fine work. Yes, some of my blades are particularly suited to these scabbards. But in the case of your sword, you were right to come here. Your short sword would have degraded if it were sheathed in leather."

Vasir now stepping off behind, Norgrim following suit while beginning to advance out of the shop. His attention for now focused on securing the scabbard to his belt, yet all the same his inexperience was evident as the way it rested upon his hip and thigh wasn't quite right. The blade always wanting to hang upright instead of angled, regardless for now Norgrim thought best that such was better to be learned at home. Only to hold the chilled case within his grasp before the elder's words rang out, as he thought, Norgrim wouldn't have guessed that ice was in fact the better of the two. His being accustomed to leather scabbards with wood or metal walls for now shielding the young man's mind from other possibilities.

Yet the next question piqued Norgrim's curiosity, as such seemed to have been asked with some form of caution yet a hint of knowing carrying forth from Vasir's lips. Halting upon the threshold of the shop, Norgrim turned rearwards once more. Pivoting to face the smith, taking care to register the phrasing and exact wording of what was posed.

"Now, I wonder, are you practiced with a short sword...ah...Mr?"

Lips curled into a light grin, Norgrim wasn't quite expecting that such would be questioned here, in fact he expected to practice and get accustomed to such a blade within his own home, however all the same he saw no reason for deception here.

"Norgrim, we never did properly introduce ourselves at our last meeting. My name is Norgrim Dyrdahl, as for you question Vasir? Yes I am inexperienced in the way of blades and weaponry. I was raised as a tanner and leather worker, I know my tools and the materials I work with."

His tone blunt yet somewhat warm, the young male advancing forward as his words sounded out. Resting as he came within feet of the elder man, only gazing over the Elder's visage while looking for any hints of emotion or what have you. All the same the almost stone faced honesty Norgrim gave was delivered with just as much tact, the man not quite accustomed to the normalcies of Ellune society despite being one. [/center]

[/font]

[Shards]

Vasir turned to regard the customer fully and receive the answer to his suggestion.

Norgrim, we never did properly introduce ourselves at our last meeting. My name is Norgrim Dyrdahl, as for you question Vasir? Yes I am inexperienced in the way of blades and weaponry. I was raised as a tanner and leather worker, I know my tools and the materials I work with.

Vasir huffed a cheerful smile.

'Well met. A small lesson in short swords should further your understanding in the nuances and infinitesimal detail in arms and armour. Even I am still learning and always wished I could have learned such a thing at your age.' Vasir's eyes narrowed for a moment. 'Call it "professional development". Now...' He strode toward the counter. 'Riyan, boy, do we have that delivery ready for Master Sunai.'

Riyan placed a finger to his lips in thought as he looked at the shelf behind him. He nodded and found a package of solid ice a few foot long and quite thin and placed it on the counter. Vasir took a small rectangular shallow dish nearby of water, among several, and his fingers seemed to dance about it.

'Norgrim, if you would be so kind as to take this package to Master Sunai who lives in the edge of town. It is a small stone cottage with two round windows on the front - you can't miss it. Give the bell a ring nearby and don't bother knocking on the door - it is made of ice.'

Vasir turned this dish upside down and a solid ice tablet slipped out, covered in small writing engraved into it. 'The address is written on this tablet with my request for you to take a short lesson, all accompanied with my seal. Master Sunai is a retired sword master, specializing in short swords who also happens to be a client of mine. Sunai has expected this package for a very very long time and should be thankful enough to provide you with a few valuable tips.'

Vasir lifted the package with a great grin on his face and turned to give it to Norgrim.

'Enjoy!'

[Norgrim Dyrdahl]

"Well met. A small lesson in short swords should further your understanding in the nuances and infinitesimal detail in arms and armour. Even I am still learning and always wished I could have learned such a thing at your age."

His brow raised at Vasir's comment, as well as the resulting chuckle which came from the admission of his inexperience. Norgrim turning his head to look at the elder male while he continued on. Remaining silent yet his curiosity piqued now due to the wording Vasir chose.

"Call it 'professional development'. Now, Riyan, boy, do we have that delivery ready for Master Sunai?"

The younger male's head tilting now, having turned to watch as Riyan pulled the crystalline package from it's resting place. Stepping forward to better look at the object as well as the dish Vasir seemingly wrote upon. However, the young Ellune's curiosity was to be sated within the next few moments. As upon both hands resting on the stone countertop, Norgrim's attention once again was pulled to Vasir's voice.

"Norgrim, if you would be so kind as to take this package to Master Sunai who lives in the edge of town. It is a small stone cottage with two round windows on the front - you can't miss it. Give the bell a ring nearby and don't bother knocking on the door - it is made of ice. The address is written on this tablet with my request for you to take a short lesson, all accompanied with my seal. Master Sunai is a retired sword master, specializing in short swords who also happens to be a client of mine. Sunai has expected this package for a very very long time and should be thankful enough to provide you with a few valuable tips."

Eyes widened in surprise as Vasir's words registered to him, Norgrim looking for a moment in silence, trying to find the words for his own response. Absentmindedly however he found himself accepting the package and the tablet in turn, only looking at it finally when his throat was cleared. The young male shaking his head for a moment, seemingly clearing his thoughts and gaining enough composure to even form a response. One arm having wrapped about the package, the other holding onto the tablet. Eyes scanning about it to gain the address before returning to the Elder's gaze.

"Uh.. well I can't say it's not an unwelcome offer Vasir. I'd happily take the training, just a bit sudden is all. After all I came only to buy a scabbard, no to end up walking across the city in order to find my trainer and deliver a package for you."

A chuckle leaving the younger male, his body relaxing before turning about to begin walking through the city. His voice breaking through once more just prior to breaking through to the daylight of Treidhart once more.

"Also, you again have my thanks old man. From being my first client, and now this? You're far more gracious than people make you out to be."

[Shards]

Uh.. well I can't say it's not an unwelcome offer Vasir. I'd happily take the training, just a bit sudden is all. After all I came only to buy a scabbard, no to end up walking across the city in order to find my trainer and deliver a package for you. Also, you again have my thanks old man. From being my first client, and now this? You're far more gracious than people make you out to be.

Vasir dipped his head with a smile. He watched Norgrim go and he rolled his shoulder with a crack. He turned to Riyan, 'Come, let's get through some more of these orders.' He directed his hand to the doorway leading to the ice forge.
'It confounds me: we wake up so early, follow some random Ellune and do all of this against orders!'

'What do you not understand?'

'Why follow this mere leatherworker?'

'Why? Because he stopped us from getting that bastard Pellan!'

'Dear, dear Gar'ai. Reports have already said, had he not stopped poor and foolish Sorvi and those other two, the Black Ice operative would have killed them anyway - and well, he did just that. We also did some background checks on him...there was nothing.'

'It doesn't matter.'

'Stubborn are we? Indeed this does matter. I say this as a friend - we are acting against the Frost's orders. We must let this leatherworker be.'

'I will act with or without you, Varli'iar.'

'Dammit Gar'ai. Well, he's off again. Looks like he is carrying some kind of package...'

Two Ellune in a nearby store, were both looking up at the bearded Ellune who was now exiting the weaponry store 'Fine Edges.'

'Well, what do you think, Gar'ai? Let him go?' The thinner Ellune of the two grinned. His face always seemed to brim with confidence. His hair was worn long and dark grey, intermingled with shocks of white.

'Leave it be, Varli'iar...now are you coming with me or not?' The other Ellune, was shorter but built up - almost inflated. His head was small and his hair was kept short at the sides. His face contained a constant scowl.

Varli'iar smirk did not falter. He simply sighed.

The two made sure to keep a good distance to their target who they anticipated would be leaving the market.[/color]