The Lack of Respect have a price!
Posted: Fri Mar 19, 2004 5:08 amLooking over my Blackstar Stiletto, I saw some cracks due to some heavy battle I had. Wandering around Coral, searching for a blacksmith, I finally found one who accepted to fix my jet black material’s blade for a heavy cost to my pouch.
Taking my weapon in front of his anvil, he started to work. A few hours later I just when in to reclaim my precious blade. I looked to it, all seemed to be correct, and every crack was vanished from the surface, so I gave the five thousand gold pieces he asked for that artwork, then I left.
Feeling the cold black metal in my hand, I started to laugh thinking about all the murder I will commit. Wielding it, I went directly to the White Castle to test this blacksmith skill. Standing in front of the drawbridge, the guard stared at me with his none logical sense eyes, as if he got brainwashed by Aester himself.
Challenging him, we draw our weapon and the inevitable came. Using my magic to restrain his arms, I gave a strong shot with my blade in his ribs, followed by a long and strong stream of fire coming out of my hand to stick on him and grow on each movement. After a moment, he was able to move and attack me with is longsword. Even with all those flames surrounding him he strongly hit me on the leg.
After playing that little game for a few rounds, I got mad. Entering a devastating rage, my sight became red as blood. At this moment, I simply dropped my shield, grabbed my blade with both hands and charged him with a critical blow. When my blade made contact with his breastplate, it opened his chest, making a mortal wound. Then, the blade exploded in a hundred pieces, leaving me with nothing more than a pommel in my hands.
Looking at the dead body of the castle guard, the blood faded from my sight, making things more clear. The surprise was complete when I putted down my eyes on the blade. There was only a piece of crap in my hand. Retrieving my shield and dropping that black junk, I ran to the blacksmith, which wasn’t there.
Walking in the streets of Coral, I was yelling to anyone if they had seen that silly blacksmith. I’ve let a notice to everyone on my path, which said “I give you one week to give me back my money plus a supplement of five thousand gold pieces, or I will find you, your family and your children, AND I will torture them all”.
Few hours later, I finally found a way to communicate with him through a magical crystal globe. He started to say it was my fault if I broke the weapon he just fixed. Insulting me like that for a few moments and saying I don’t know how to wield a weapon, he said he did a great job on my blade, blah blah blah. I asked him his name to know what I should put on his gravestone. He answered me “Ghandi is my name”. Knowing Ghandi will touch this blade only few seconds before his death, I asked him again his name, with a dark smile. Instead of giving me his name, I saw him taking a large bag, putting some crap in it, grabbing some food, and he passed the door of his home to leave Dapetan, to never coming back.
This warning should be spread to every blacksmith who dare to mock a Dread Knight or any Dark Order follower!
Taking my weapon in front of his anvil, he started to work. A few hours later I just when in to reclaim my precious blade. I looked to it, all seemed to be correct, and every crack was vanished from the surface, so I gave the five thousand gold pieces he asked for that artwork, then I left.
Feeling the cold black metal in my hand, I started to laugh thinking about all the murder I will commit. Wielding it, I went directly to the White Castle to test this blacksmith skill. Standing in front of the drawbridge, the guard stared at me with his none logical sense eyes, as if he got brainwashed by Aester himself.
Challenging him, we draw our weapon and the inevitable came. Using my magic to restrain his arms, I gave a strong shot with my blade in his ribs, followed by a long and strong stream of fire coming out of my hand to stick on him and grow on each movement. After a moment, he was able to move and attack me with is longsword. Even with all those flames surrounding him he strongly hit me on the leg.
After playing that little game for a few rounds, I got mad. Entering a devastating rage, my sight became red as blood. At this moment, I simply dropped my shield, grabbed my blade with both hands and charged him with a critical blow. When my blade made contact with his breastplate, it opened his chest, making a mortal wound. Then, the blade exploded in a hundred pieces, leaving me with nothing more than a pommel in my hands.
Looking at the dead body of the castle guard, the blood faded from my sight, making things more clear. The surprise was complete when I putted down my eyes on the blade. There was only a piece of crap in my hand. Retrieving my shield and dropping that black junk, I ran to the blacksmith, which wasn’t there.
Walking in the streets of Coral, I was yelling to anyone if they had seen that silly blacksmith. I’ve let a notice to everyone on my path, which said “I give you one week to give me back my money plus a supplement of five thousand gold pieces, or I will find you, your family and your children, AND I will torture them all”.
Few hours later, I finally found a way to communicate with him through a magical crystal globe. He started to say it was my fault if I broke the weapon he just fixed. Insulting me like that for a few moments and saying I don’t know how to wield a weapon, he said he did a great job on my blade, blah blah blah. I asked him his name to know what I should put on his gravestone. He answered me “Ghandi is my name”. Knowing Ghandi will touch this blade only few seconds before his death, I asked him again his name, with a dark smile. Instead of giving me his name, I saw him taking a large bag, putting some crap in it, grabbing some food, and he passed the door of his home to leave Dapetan, to never coming back.
This warning should be spread to every blacksmith who dare to mock a Dread Knight or any Dark Order follower!
But hearing you, i could swear you said you would find and kill him and his relatives. But it seems the smithy left and got away from you. A dread knight yelling and cursing, but no actions, well, now you've impressed us. Im scared now. Knowing you told me i would die soon, i can now relax a bit, knowing you can't hold your word. Hmm, they've got a word for such thing....wait wait, i know........oh yeah.....WEAK. Yep, that was it, weak. You're weak, soft inside. So there's still a little bit of good in you that wants to get out and now already taking over sometimes.