Married to the Blade
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The axe was heavy in his hands, his muscles aching and tired. Still, he forged on, running through the practice routines unceasingly, ignoring the burning in his throat as he gasped for breath. Sweat trickled down his body despite the cold, even though he trained shirtless and wearing only an old pair of breeches.
He knew his father, a master at arms for a Lord in the South, would frown on his working as a sell-sword. But work was scarcer up here in the virtual wilderness that was Narfell, and his funds had run out some time ago. Besides, it wasn't as though he had sold his sword for murder. Protection was his line of work, and he intended to master it along with the axe that was his current focus.
And when the axe was done, he'd choose another weapon, and another. Constantly seeking perfection that he knew in his heart was unobtainable. But in that seeking lay something else just as valuable as the perfection itself. And that was why he fought with a weapon he was still learning, when he had already mastered the longsword. Even though defeat might mean death in this cold place, he would die a man committed, heart and soul.
He stopped, the sudden silence striking after the constant shuffling of feet and the whistling of the blade through the cold winter's air. It was cold here, far more so than he had expected. Sometimes the cold was almost tangible - he felt like his axe might strike the air and break it into a thousand glittering shards. But he knew that for fancy, and shut his mind to the cool as he donned a tunic. He had not come here to be warm. He had come to be challenged.
Sticking the handle of the axe through the small leather loop on his belt, he started his way back to town. He could talk all he wanted about working as a sell-sword, but until he found work here now, he was nothing but broke. Perhaps he would try his luck in Peltarch. He'd heard it was a big city - surely there'd be work there. Not to mention warriors of reknown, some of whom he might learn from. Yes, Peltarch might work nicely. Peltarch it would be. Tomorrow.
With that he ceased thought, blanking his mind in the manner he had been taught and walking back to town at one with his body, the path and the blade at his side.
Account: Tanin_Valdar
Character: Tyran Dalmar
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Reviewed - XP Pending.
