38th of Ymiden, Arc 717
"As a gift for the incredible value of this spear, I will provide you with a few complimentary lessons on how to use it," the man said, in an accent thick of Rakahi. He handed Alistair the weapon, a spear of a thick wood that felt hard as stone, leading onto an exceptionally high quality blade with refined metals and edges as sharp as a Feron's claw. Across the blade ran an emblazoned golden viper, which would only expand the wounds given through the spear's impalement. It was mastercraft to be sure, and it was incredibly expensive.
He had commissioned it through letter before his arrival, with Fridgar listed as the beneficiary, and it had taken more than a fortnight to craft. A small fortune had been spent on its acquisition, and he was told that the finest, purest steel had gone into its creation. He was satisfied. Taking the spear into his hands, he took a breath and focused on the feeling. It would be interesting to adjust to, but he'd played some with lances and spears as a youth, and inevitably he'd grow fond of the weapon.
Alistair was a mobile combatant - he wore leather armor, he blinked around like mad, he strafed, stepped, rolled and danced around blows. The blade had done well for him, but it was not his weapon. It was a weapon -- a weapon of the Rynmere Knights, a weapon of war for the most basic and common of men. He was no such man - he fought in unique and exceptional ways.
"First, an introduction, from man to man. I am Keanu Ki'Lozdara, great blacksmith of the Valley of Kings. I am the son of two biqaj seeking fortune in a land of danger, and I am born from their ambition. You on the other hand are more like my parents than I -- you left wealth and securty in a foreign, Northern realm, and now seek prosperity far away. I respect that. You will need skill in a weapon such as this, however, to survive the Fields of Gauthrel. Even then, your safety is uncertain."
The man shrugged. "I'm a mage like you've never seen," he said, casually. He knew the Lotharen consensus on magic -- it was a tool to be used against the monsters. He felt the same way, though their perception on what a monster was... was probably different.
"Ah," the man nodded. "Even moreso -- a mage must learn to protect themselves. Trust me, I know," he winked. Alistair's brow rose -- this had to be an incredible thing, two mages openly admitting their talents to one another in a public space. It wasn't like the man's forge was in a secluded corner of the city; there was no such thing. Uthaldria was packed.
"Let me teach you of the spear, Alistair of an unnamed Northern House," he called him. The man had withheld his dynasty, not seeking his secrets to be sold from opportunists a world away. "I promise you, you will appreciate my lessons. Come behind my forge - I have a garden in which we can practice."
Biting his lower lip, he nodded in agreement. What would be the harm?
"As a gift for the incredible value of this spear, I will provide you with a few complimentary lessons on how to use it," the man said, in an accent thick of Rakahi. He handed Alistair the weapon, a spear of a thick wood that felt hard as stone, leading onto an exceptionally high quality blade with refined metals and edges as sharp as a Feron's claw. Across the blade ran an emblazoned golden viper, which would only expand the wounds given through the spear's impalement. It was mastercraft to be sure, and it was incredibly expensive.
He had commissioned it through letter before his arrival, with Fridgar listed as the beneficiary, and it had taken more than a fortnight to craft. A small fortune had been spent on its acquisition, and he was told that the finest, purest steel had gone into its creation. He was satisfied. Taking the spear into his hands, he took a breath and focused on the feeling. It would be interesting to adjust to, but he'd played some with lances and spears as a youth, and inevitably he'd grow fond of the weapon.
Alistair was a mobile combatant - he wore leather armor, he blinked around like mad, he strafed, stepped, rolled and danced around blows. The blade had done well for him, but it was not his weapon. It was a weapon -- a weapon of the Rynmere Knights, a weapon of war for the most basic and common of men. He was no such man - he fought in unique and exceptional ways.
"First, an introduction, from man to man. I am Keanu Ki'Lozdara, great blacksmith of the Valley of Kings. I am the son of two biqaj seeking fortune in a land of danger, and I am born from their ambition. You on the other hand are more like my parents than I -- you left wealth and securty in a foreign, Northern realm, and now seek prosperity far away. I respect that. You will need skill in a weapon such as this, however, to survive the Fields of Gauthrel. Even then, your safety is uncertain."
The man shrugged. "I'm a mage like you've never seen," he said, casually. He knew the Lotharen consensus on magic -- it was a tool to be used against the monsters. He felt the same way, though their perception on what a monster was... was probably different.
"Ah," the man nodded. "Even moreso -- a mage must learn to protect themselves. Trust me, I know," he winked. Alistair's brow rose -- this had to be an incredible thing, two mages openly admitting their talents to one another in a public space. It wasn't like the man's forge was in a secluded corner of the city; there was no such thing. Uthaldria was packed.
"Let me teach you of the spear, Alistair of an unnamed Northern House," he called him. The man had withheld his dynasty, not seeking his secrets to be sold from opportunists a world away. "I promise you, you will appreciate my lessons. Come behind my forge - I have a garden in which we can practice."
Biting his lower lip, he nodded in agreement. What would be the harm?
