Hammer and Nail

Wed Feb 03, 2021 3:08 am

Your mind needs a moment to adjust to the sudden shift in clarity. One second ago you were in the morning sun of Neverwinter, the window panes reflecting the dawn onto your eyes below. You then uttered one word in your mind and now you are in the Flea Market, your nostrils assaulted by the acrid smell of something burning in a frying pan, your ears surrounded by the constant hum of the never-ending trade, and your gaze set on the brass dome that covers the entirety of this awkward dimension, reflecting a sun that is nowhere to be seen. On your left hand, the once beautiful golden ring the dwarves had given you looks dead and dull now that it’s devoid of all magic. It seems strange that you once admired its craftsmanship with awe. You feel like it’s been a lifetime since you’ve been to this place, even though you only spent one night in your native plane of existence. You shudder, pushing the memories of the last few hours away.

Suddenly you feel an urge to check your backpack again. It was there just seconds before you talked to Kvothe, you know this, you remember checking it - or at least you think you do. You feel your heart accelerating in your chest and your hands start to tremble.

Wed Feb 03, 2021 9:59 pm

*Durkon nervously checking his backpack*

I've not gone through that shit just to lose this thing

*His mind is still spinning from the night and his last talk with Kvothe, his hopes about his old friend making the right calls and gathering the Dwarves still uncertain on his heart*

This can't be for nothing... This won't be for nothing!

Wed Feb 03, 2021 11:13 pm

You fumble nervously through the interior of your leather backpack, your hand stumbling on some of the equipment you’ve acquired during your last adventures: the cold shaft of the immovable rod, sharp stone angles of an ancient bottle, the light touch of an empty glass flask, the life potion that it once contained now reduced to a single drop dancing as you push it aside. Finally you find it.

Still wrapped in its tattered rags, you can feel the slender outline of the blade. The sounds of the Market become muffled as you pull it out of your bag, unwrapping it with almost devotional care. Your eyes look upon this twisted, wrong weapon once more, the eerie glory of its unnatural aura filling the totality of your field of view. It is a dagger. Its hilt and guard tell of a poor or impatient craftsman, but the blade sings a different tale. It is of a green, malleable material that carries an edge unadulterated by time. It is no metal you know, and bears no mark of ever being hammered or sharpened. The only evidence of its history are a few golden specks near the point that no amount of effort would be able to scrape off.

Make a religion check.

Thu Feb 04, 2021 12:13 am

[Religion check = 14+5]

Thu Feb 04, 2021 4:27 am

The deep green of the blade continues to draw you in, the enigma of its origins like a needle in your brain. As you ponder over the dark history of this object, the echo of an old, whistling voice comes alive in the back of your mind.

“Oh, my son… How much you’ve lost…”

You hurry to put the dagger back in its ancient rags, pushing away the memories of this long dark night. You throw it back into the bottom of your backpack, closing it tight before moving on to meet Brok and Sindri in their workshop. You don’t know this portion of the Market, but by now you can instinctively make your way through the coiling passageways that organically form between the tents, each step leading the next to where you wish to be. You arrive to find the two dwarves bustling around like ants, picking up tools and half-forged weapons and putting them into boxes, chests and barrels. The unlit forge looks as though it’s taking a much-needed sleep. Brok halts as he sees you arriving, but no smile forms on his face.

“Tough night?”, he asks.

You can see that they are getting ready to move. Most of the contents of their foundry are loaded into a heavy war chariot that is parked outside their shop, a gargantuan, bellicose thing that appears to have been made for a rider bigger than a giant. The driver, a gray old-looking beetle, is waiting with the reins in hand.

Fri Feb 05, 2021 2:06 am

*Durkon whatches as the move go on thinking about how wrong it is to see this forge being moved, that fire looked like it would burn for eternity... Even when the brothers halted for some moments to drink the fire went on..."
Talk about understatements...
*Durkon walks towards the moving and start helpng out with the boxes*
Sooo... I got your weird dagger... It has something to it and it's not made of metal... Would you tell me what's up with this dagger?

Fri Feb 05, 2021 3:30 am

“It's a crime and a treachery, it’s what it is'', Brok says. “But it can still teach us a thing or two, and maybe serve a purpose. Do some good. We’re sorry, lad, this is a steep price for your apprenticeship, much steeper than what we’d usually ask for. But these are troubling times. I wouldn’t have sent you into the talons of that old hag if I felt I had any other choice. How is she, by the way? I trust she wasn't too… Overbearing.”

The memory of a cold dark claw pressing its point onto the palm of your hand comes rushing back. It felt as though your blood craved to be spilled. “It can all go away.”

You fumble through your backpack once more, this time finding the dagger much faster. You return the object of your quest to the dwarf, along with the enormous ruby that they had given you to obtain it.

“She wouldn’t take it”, you manage to say.

Barely fitting in the palm of your hand, that precious stone would have been considered the crowning jewel of any king’s treasure. You remember the enormous, glowing yellow eyes dismissing it with disdain, only to settle in your heart. You can still feel her silhouette dragging you in like the tide. You understand that she’ll always be there, in the dark corners of your mind with her hooting, silky voice.

“Wouldn’t you like that, my son? To feel less pain?”

Brok takes the objects from your hands, darting a worried look at you. He quickly checks the blade beneath the rags, then gives it to his brother Sindri with the ruby.

“Wouldn’t take it? Then —”, he stops himself from saying his conclusion out loud. “Gods, lad. I’m so sorry.”

Fri Feb 05, 2021 10:35 am

*Durkon pushes the voices to the back of his head while focusing on what he can carry next "It won't be for nothin!"*

Don't be! Everything comes at a price and most of times a giant ruby won't cover it. *Lifting another box* Whatever happended down there was my call, and if that's the price I need to pay for my homeland and my clan I'll gladly pay it twice

*Durkon goes silent thinking about how his life has changed over the last night, and how it hasn't at the same time.... The war was still there... The Heir was still at that woman's mercy... Durkon was still Thor's Hammer*

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