Axes to Grind

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Chrystenise
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Axes to Grind

Postby Chrystenise » Wed Nov 03, 2010 3:15 pm

Eight months earlier...

The anvil was a work of art to behold. One of it's kind undoubtedly, the giant steel concoction of elementium, dark iron and unpurified saronite was surely something that would not be welcome in any sane smithy.

Colored somewhere between a black and a very dark green, Chrystal Kaleigh stared down upon the piece with an enthralled smile. She'd spent months on the anvil, melting and molding the two odd metals together.

It was a good thing Ilanna didn't seem to mind it, though both had agreed it best to keep the forge under lock and key, so that Jacob would not find his way out ad suffer any possible side-effects of the tainted ore used in its creation. A shame that primordial saronite had not been discovered yet, as it would have made this lonely artifact worth even more in itself.

Slowly, she pulled the cover over the anvil, smiling prettily from behind her soot-blackened face, all the plans of amazing weaponry to come flooding her head.


Three months earlier...

“Y'burned y'lass' kitchen down,” the hideous-faced Lower-City guildmaster, Lucky (who went by no other name) grinned, eying the young Kaleigh woman up and down. “An' now yeh gotta sell yair anvil to rebuild it, aye?”

Chryste nodded her head, hands tucked tightly beneath her arms and ready to reach for a pair of fighting blades if the known double-crosser was content on trying to make her a victim. “Yeah, just a pawn though, I want it back when I raise the gold.”

“I see, yeh...” He chewed on his chapped lip, and eyed the tool now, instead of Chryste, his brow arched in contemplation. “S'jest an anvil all-in-all, I kin give yeh three large at best, but if yair wantin' t'throw in a wee spot o' arse, we could maybe double it.”

“Yeah, three is fine.” She wanted to live another twenty years at least, not die of the scurvy in three days. “What's the payback?”

“We'll be sayin' four even, sugatits. 'At a good wee deal fer ya?”

Chryste narrowed her eyes – she just wanted to gut him at this point. But the kitchen was Lanna's pride and joy since her retirement – she had to fix this. “Fine.”


Shameful as it was, that when she returned the following month, she'd learned the payoff doubled... By the week. Seems it was Lucky's way of 'conquering' the more charismatic women of the city. Considering the gold and time that went into advertising his pawn, it was a pretty wasteful operation for meager romps in the sack.

It was to come back and bite him in the rear for sure one day. A a vengeful woman, a jealous lover?


Or perhaps a loving wife to be...


Two weeks earlier...

Ilanna stared down at the crumpled corpse of the Guildmaster, Lucky, his neck twisted in an odd direction, limbs twitching, and a tongue that hanged freely from his mouth.

He'd obviously conned the wrong woman.

Hastily, she wrapped the large, blanket-like cloth around the anvil, thoughts stuck dwelling on the kitchen she'd been treated to upon returning home. The one her love had sacrificed her most-valued tool for, knowing good and well she would probably never see it again.

A knowledge that didn't sit to well with Lanna, obviously. She closed the last bits of the blanket off, and with a quick press of a button, both she and the anvil disappeared from the bomb-rigged guildhall storeroom, back to the safety of the Nagrand forge to show Chryste what she'd done.

An action that wouldn't go unrewarded by Chryste, no doubt.

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