Author's Note: This story is the first in a 'collection' (not a series) of stories that I'm writing as a foray into adult world-building. I decided to do it because I've recently been looking at a few adult text-based games and have been playing around with the idea of making my own. Insofar as this is an attempt to develop that world, I suppose you could call it 'Concept Art' ;)
As I'm not experienced at adult writing, but I want to be, I will gladly accept any and all feedback on my work, so please feel encouraged to head down to the comments and let me know what you thought.
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Clang!
"And now turn it again" I instructed, waiting. "Now strike."
Clang!
"Good, good. You're not as incompetent as people say" I joked.
My apprentice turned his head to me and gave a sarcastic grin.
"Now quench it, and keep going like last time."
He nodded and got to work, seeming almost as natural as I had been in my own youth. He was a good apprentice, but smithing was a hard craft. While it strengthened the body and moulded it to what many (such as my wife) considered near-perfection, being wrought into an ideal form was as tough on us as it was on the metals we worked. Many shattered under the pressure, and it was my job as the teacher, as is my job as a blacksmith, to prevent such structural failure.
Throughout the day, I continued to joke and prod and condition the man who would one day be the master. The aristocrats in Castle Highpoint may claim that great and powerful men are born, but the king knew better, and so did I. He knew that great men are forged in heat and fire, and must be struck and doused and shaped to become all that their potential holds. The king was a great man himself, gods rest his soul.
As day's end drew nearer, I found myself thinking of the recent turmoil that seemed to be spreading across Loraea. Such grave events had taken place, starting with the death of the king and his sons. The world was in a dark place, with the resurgence of fears that had not haunted our thoughts in a generation, and it seemed as if the sun was still setting.
But even as my thoughts began to darken, I heard a soft voice call my name.
I looked up to find one of my newest and most favourite customers, Shana, standing before me, wearing her customary smile and bearing the signs of great relief. She was a very loyal customer and she had become a close friend, though she was always a bit short on gold. Luckily, I didn't mind being charitable from time to time.
"Shana" I said, smiling back at her as best I could. "What brings you back so soon?"
Even before the question left my mouth, however, I began to pick up signs that she had been in a fight. Her dirty-blonde hair was messier than usual and had smears of mud and grime all down its two-foot length. Her soft red lip was marked with a fresh cut, and I could still see a trace of blood trailing down from the split. Even her hands looked off. Though never clean, they had never been as rough as they seemed now.
Instead of answering, she hesitated. I could see her whole thin frame, which was usually so firm and feminine, slowly sag in a display of fear and shame.
"Are you alright?" I asked, though and answer was obvious.
For a fleeting moment, I considered that I might be too concerned for her. Shana was an adventurer of a few years and she had trained for many more before that, and while I was ten or eleven years her senior, her twenty years of life had been filled with challenges that were far more varied and daunting that those of my average life. I knew that she had been taught the skills that would give her the best chance to survive, instilled with a toughness that was beyond most people... yet, I reflected, there was only so much that a person could prepare for - and the world is an inventive adversary.
"I need to talk to you... urgently..." she managed, sounding more winded than she looked.
I moved to the side and gestured for her to sit on my work stool, but she didn't budge.
"Is there somewhere else to talk?" she asked, glancing at my apprentice.
I nodded.
"Of course." I said, turning to my apprentice. "Can you keep an eye on things?" I asked him.
He gave me a nod back, and I moved to the back of the shop, where a doorway lead to the back room.
"After you" I said, opening the large door and gesturing through.
Once the two of us were inside, Shana turned to me and I saw tears forming in the corners of her rich brown eyes.
"I feel so stupid..." she said, lowering her gaze to the floor as the tears began to trickle down her face. "I don't even know what to say..."
I quickly reacted, taking her arms in my hands with a gentle firmness.
"It's alright, Shana. Here, take a seat and start at the beginning."
I eased her onto a rolling hill of soft leathers, letting go of her and taking a seat beside her. She shifted slightly, and I could tell that she was uncomfortable.
"Sorry, that's the most comfortable seat we have back here." I said with a twang of humour. "Now tell me, what happened to you today? You seemed fine when you set out this morning..."
Shana twiddled her thumbs, pausing to collect herself.
