Soldiers

[Kyrinn the Black]

Midnight.

A silvery crescent shaped moon silently travels across a cloudless sky, it's light illuminating the ruins of the Ogre city of Oggok.

The harsh stone corridors are mostly black. The interior illumination coming from torches placed at irregular intervals is mostly inadequate. At this late hour Oggok is eerily peaceful. The majority of the cities inhabitants lay dormant in a drunken slumber. An occasional yawn from the Bouncers on night watch is the only thing that breaks the silence.

Deeper in the bowels of the city, the whooshing of the forge bellows sounds unusually loud. The only light here comes from the glowing coals of the forge itself, and they do a poor job at illuminating the shadowy figure pumping the bellows. It is a small figure, no bigger than an Ogre child, but much to slender to actually be an Ogre. The figure has no trouble pumping the bellows that were designed for a much larger frame. A glowing length of steel lies in the fire; the beginnings of a two handed sword. Once the new blade glows white hot the shadow takes sword and hammer to the anvil and begins to pound. Every strike of the hammer shatters the silence anew and for a split second bathes the figure in an orange glow. The brief flashes of light reveal the cobalt skin of a Tier'Dal, shirtless, but covered with a thick leather apron and elbow length gloves to shield him from the tiny flecks of white hot light that shower him with every blow. His hair is long and unkempt, hanging low hiding the facial features in it's cast shadows. He makes no sound, seemingly lost in the metalic ringing of metal on metal as he works.

The clanging of hammer and churn of the forge bellows continue through the night. The Ogre inhabitants do not stir. They are well accustom to loud noises. Outside the city, all remains still and silent.

It is the calm before the storm.

[MerriMekko]

( wow wtg, i love it, i cant wait to read more_)

[Slyfoot M'Zors]

(With his shirt off? Hmmm...sounds interesing SMACK! SLYFOOT! oh..whoops sorry. Awsome job Kyrinn)

[Gimley]

(Good job Kyrinn, can't wait to read the sequels to your story. Keep up the good work)

[Kyrinn the Black]

Several nights later the sword is nearing completion. The smith still works alone, and undisturbed. On this night the blade's enchantments would be set.

Once again the blade is heated until it glows bright white. Instead of immediately taking hammer to sword, the Teir’Dal smith instead moves to a small work table a few paces away. A small leather pouch rests there on the table. The pouch contains several small crystals. The crystals bear a close resemblance to small pieces of ice: Dervish Ice Crystals. The smith empties the contents of the bag into one of his gloved hands and approaches the glowing blade still resting in the forge's fire. With his one free hand he skillfully moves the infant sword to a nearby anvil. He begins placing the crystals quickly but carefully with a grace that is unusual even among the Teir’Dal. The crystals are spaced evenly and run the entire length of the blade. As the last crystal is set in place the first begins to melt into the steel. Within seconds the stones enchantment begins to freeze the white hot metal. A deafening screeching sound rips through the night’s silence as the changing temperatures threaten to shatter the blade. It was as if the very sword itself was crying out in agony. The steam created by the reaction overtook the entire forge but the smith stood his ground, nonchalantly shielding his eyes with the back of one hand. The entire event spanned only seconds and ended as quickly as it had begun. Most of the slumbering Ogres did not awaken. The ones that did quickly returned to their slumber unconcerned.

As the steam dissipated the Smith relaxed the arm shielding his eyes. The sword had survived the process intact. The metal retained its white color but it no longer glowed with heat. Water vapor drifted lazily over the surface of the weapon in much the same manner as it does over a block of ice when left out in the sun. This blade would now remain frigidly cold forever. The difference in temperature and resulting condensation was causing droplets of water to form on the blade. Thankfully the enchantment would also guard against rust and corrosion or a sword of this type would be useless within a few days. The hardest part was over, but the work was not yet complete. The smith took the blade from the anvil. The leather gloves that once protected against the forge's heat would now protect against the swords icy surface. He continued his work throughout the night.

Elsewhere one Ogre had awoken to the sound of the screaming metal and not gone back to sleep. He had known the sound, as he has heard it countless times before. He was the master Smith in Oggok, and at the request of his Son, he had made the Teir'Dal his pupil.

[MerriMekko]

( oh sweet, thanks kyrinn, i love the way you make it like im right there watchin him doin this. your great)

[Slyfoot M'Zors]

(I second that! Keep up the great stuff.)

[konku]

(I third that..... Can I do that? lol... anyways, keep it up, great job...)

[Kyrinn the Black]

As the first gentle rays of morning light begin to brighten the Ogre's room he awakens with a start. He hadn't intended on slipping back into sleep after being awoken the night prior. The terrible screeching he heard marked the near completion of his pupil’s newest creation. His original intent was to only wait a couple of hours before checking the young Teir'Dal's progress. Now that it is morning he was going to have to hurry to the Inn, located in the upper levels of Oggok, if he was going to catch him before he left. He rose from bed and dressed quickly; putting on the tan colored cloth tunic and matching trousers he wore every day at the forge. Normally the Smiths wore leather but his cloth held a special enchantment that protected the material from fire. He was still trying to stuff one of his massive feet into his left boot when he half stumbled and half hopped out into the ruined stone corridors of Oggok.

Oggok's Inn was little more than a stone ruin itself. Several of the walls had crumbled leaving small piles of rubble littering the entire interior of the building. The Innkeeper was seated on a large barstool leaning back against a crude wooden bar. Bottles of questionable liquor line a large shelf to the rear of the bar. There were only two patrons seated at one of the three tables in the Inns main room. It was still quite early for most of the city's population so the Innkeeper was a little surprised to see the massive frame of his friend the blacksmith appear in his doorway. The large Ogre entered the Inn and started to turn down the hallway leading to the rooms without a word to the buildings inhabitants. The Innkeeper called out to get his attention as he reached the halls entry point.


"Ug Dertreg!" he shouted.

The Ogre Blacksmith turned his massive head to see who had called his name. His massive brow lowers as he focuses on the Innkeeper, sitting in his stool drinking his life away as usual "Ug joo self!"

"Joo lookin fer dat runty dark elf dat been stayin here?"

"Yar, he still here?"

"Yar, he in da back, he look like he gettin redy ta go sum place."

Dertreg was in time. The last time his apprentice left to test his work he had broken both blades he had taken with him. He was just starting to develop better than average skills around the smithy and Dertreg wanted to examine the newest blade before it was ruined. He grunted one more time in the Innkeepers direction and turned to lumber down the hallway to the Teir'Dal's room.

He found his apprentice standing with his back to the door tightening the fasteners of his blue tinted breastplate. He had already donned his greaves and boots but his arms were still bare. His vambraces and shoulder guards were laid on his bed next to his helmet. When he had first come to Oggok his blond hair was very short and well kept but during his time among the Ogres he had allowed it to grow very long. He kept his room dark most of the time but today light was leaking in from where one of the walls had collapsed. The rubble from the damage was piled in one corner next to the poorly constructed bed. The only other piece of furniture was a simple desk of equally shoddy construction. Both the bed and the desk were sized for an Ogre, making the young apprentice standing between them appear almost childlike. Lying on the bed next to his armor were an assortment of weapons. He had a one handed broadsword that he had made himself under Dertreg's guidance. Also a one-handed club, carved from stone and very old. A crossbow and a quiver of bolts. A two-handed hammer he had said that he took from a Gnoll priest, and finally a body sized shield made from the same blue tinted metal as his armor. He recognized the shield as his sons work, and the fact the he had given it to the Teir'Dal showed that he believed him to be a promising combatant as well as blacksmith.


The Ogre must have stood without speaking for too long because it was the Teir'Dal that spoke first. "I know you are there Dertreg. Your race is not known for subtlety after all."

Dertgreg hardened his gaze and looked down at the young blacksmith. He was an average height for a Teir'Dal but he only stood as high the Ogre's belt buckle. It was difficult to imagine something so puny being capable of anything. "Joo sho me da sword Kyrinn, you busted da last two and I need ta see it befor joo bust da new one"

"It's behind the desk." As he gestures to his right. Dertreg peered over the wooden desk. The sword was resting in a vertical stand. It's white blade still emanating the light mist as the metal's coldness converted the water in the air to water droplets. A small puddle was slowly gathering under the sword stand from the effect. Dertreg reached over the desk and seized the sword hilt in three gigantic fingers. He brought the white blade up to his eyes and carefully scrutinized the workmanship. His skill was definitely growing but Dertreg would never admit that to him."Where joo gonna go dis time Kyrinn?"

"I haven't decided yet. The Cawtou Aviaks are no longer offering me much sport. Zugarok often speaks of a Pyramid near here, I thought I might explore that ruin."

"Dem Ankexfen, dem da walkin dead. Dat gud place fer joo ta get strong. Dem puny like joo, but dem tuffer den dey luk."

Kyrinn had finished with his left arms armor and began attaching the right. "I doubt the undead will suffer much harm from that blades enchantment. Most of my undead knowledge comes from the Collonridge or Felstar areas so I could be entirely mistaken about that though. I will try to find this Pyramid and I will slay the undead occupants. I'll also find something that still draws breathe and test the blades effectiveness on them as well. Of course if you're interested in my findings I can give you a full report of the ice enchantments performance on the undead of the Pyramid."

".....erm, Yar, er, joo do wat joo want Kyrinn. I talk to joo when joo get bak."

The giant Ogre turned to leave and lumbered out the door. He was already starting to show his limp. Dertreg's son Zugarok had mentioned that his father used to be a great warrior. He had suffered a crippling injury when he was younger and was unable to return to the field. Shortly thereafter he had become the lead Blacksmith there in Oggok. Even with his limp Dertreg was quite a formidable opponent.

Kyrinn continued preparations for his sortie into the jungle.

[Slyfoot M'Zors]

(Keep it comming, keep it commin. I love your stuff Kyrinn )

[Darlena O'seth]

(nice story,tell more plz)

[Rhabuka]

(excellent writing, and you have Ogrish down!! more more!)