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<blockquote data-quote="Lazybones" data-source="post: 7048242" data-attributes="member: 143"><p>Chapter 5</p><p></p><p>Bredan ducked low under a fallen beam and carefully watched where he was putting his feet as he moved into burned-out wreckage of the smithy. He had known every inch of this place intimately before the disaster, but now there were only ruined echoes of the once-familiar workshop. Only the two anvils were more or less intact, but one was completely buried by fallen debris and the other was covered in a crust of crisped shingles and ashes that distorted its distinctive shape. An acrid stink filled his nostrils and tickled his lungs with each breath he took.</p><p></p><p>“Uncle?”</p><p></p><p>He didn’t shout, but his voice sounded unnaturally loud in his own ears, as if the fire had transformed the interior of the shop into an empty temple. But a moment later he heard a shuffle and a call from the back room. “Bredan. I’m in here.”</p><p></p><p>It was only a dozen steps from the entry to the open doorway, but Bredan took them slowly and with care. He thought he’d been prepared by the destruction in the front of the shop, but as he reached the doorway he sucked in a startled breath.</p><p></p><p>The fire had been even more thorough here in its destruction. The neatly-ordered racks and their carefully-sorted cargoes had been transformed into a gory wreckage. The day was overcast and dreary, but even if the sun had been out it couldn’t have done more than highlight the devastation. The entire back wall of the room had collapsed along with the roof, letting in the pale light of the morning. Bredan’s uncle was over by that mound of debris, digging in the rubble. On seeing Bredan he waved him over. “Come here, give me a hand with this.”</p><p></p><p>“Uncle, you shouldn’t be in here, it’s not safe.” Bredan looked up at the few roof beams left intact and the damaged walls that were still left around them. “This whole place could collapse.”</p><p></p><p>“I just needed to get one thing.” From the soot smeared on his arms and his face he’d been digging around for quite some time already. For a moment Bredan’s mind flashed back to the way his uncle had looked the night before when he’d been lying on the Tulls’ porch, unable to move and barely able to breathe. For a moment he felt a tight fist close around his chest at the vividness of the memory.</p><p></p><p>“The cleric said you needed to rest,” Bredan said.</p><p></p><p>Karras paused in his excavation and wiped his brow. His hand left a smear across his forehead. “I’m fine, Bredan. Really. It was just bad luck, is all. But I’m here, and I’m all right. Okay?”</p><p></p><p>“Yeah, sure.”</p><p></p><p>“Now come on, I’ve almost got it, but it’s pretty well buried.”</p><p></p><p>“What is it?” Bredan asked as he came forward, curious despite himself. He’d been in this room thousands of times, but he’d never been aware of anything buried in the back corner, away from the last of the racks that lined the length of the room.</p><p></p><p>“Your legacy,” Karras said. “Here, I’ll hold this up… just reach down in there and grab the end of the box.”</p><p></p><p>Bredan tensed as his uncle levered up a fallen beam, causing the whole mound of rubble to creak menacingly. But he knelt in the debris and reached into the dark space underneath the collapse. His hands immediately closed on something just below ground level; it must have been buried under the floor when the place was intact. It was blocky and heavy, but Bredan’s muscles had been built up from all the work in the forge and in the many sparring sessions besides. He had to plant his foot carefully where it wouldn’t strain the already precarious pile of debris and drag the object slowly clear with brute strength. It was a wooden box, long and low. Once Bredan had pulled it out of its niche Karras let the beam fall and the two smiths staggered clear with their prize as the rubble of the fallen wall shifted back into place.</p><p></p><p>The box was covered in soot, and at first Bredan thought it had been wrecked by the fire, but as he ran a hand over its lid he realized it was solid and almost completely intact. His fingers encountered a pattern etched into the lid, and he wiped the ashes clear to reveal an abstract sigil he did not recognize.</p><p></p><p>“What is this?” he asked.</p><p></p><p>His uncle wiped his hands on his coat, and for a moment looked uncertain. “As I said, it’s your legacy. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about it sooner. I made a promise, a promise that I would keep it for you until you were ready.”</p><p></p><p>Bredan’s eyes flashed back to the box. “What’s inside?” he asked, his throat suddenly dry in a way that had nothing to do with the ash and smoke in the air.</p><p></p><p>“Open it.”</p><p></p><p>Bredan had already noticed that the box was unusual, but only when he started looking for the hasp did he notice that it lacked either a locking mechanism or hinges. The ashes had highlighted the seam around the top, confirming that it was not just a solid hunk of wood, but there was no indication of how it was opened. Bredan had his dagger, but was reluctant to pry open the box given that he still didn’t know what was inside. He shot a questioning look at his uncle.</p><p></p><p>“It will open for you,” Karras said.</p><p></p><p>With that mysterious comment hanging in the air Bredan reached down and ran his fingers along the lid of the box. He was going to try and pull the lid up but didn’t get a chance. He felt something, a faint tingling that passed up his fingers, then the box sprang open of its own accord.</p><p></p><p>Once it was open he could see the clever construction, the recessed interior hinges and swinging metal arms that supported the lid. The box was lined with soft felt and was free of even a speck of soot. Somehow it had survived the fire and being crushed without any effect upon its contents.</p><p></p><p>Those contents were spread across the full length of the container. Bredan reached down for what he first thought was a folded blanket until he felt the familiar strength of steel. As he grabbed hold of the material and pulled it free he saw that it was a hauberk of fine mesh chainmail, a full suit that had be worth hundreds of gold pieces. The Karras smithy hadn’t done much work with armor—there was a specialist in town who handled that and weapons—but Bredan knew enough to know that what he was holding was exceptional quality.</p><p></p><p>There was more in the box, matching greaves and other accessories to the armor, but moving the suit had revealed something else that caught his attention. Careful to place the armor down on the edge of the box so as to avoid getting fouling it in the charred muck of the room, he drew out the sword.</p><p></p><p>It was in a scabbard of black leather trimmed with red, attached to a baldric so it could be worn slung across the back. The size of it explained the bulk of the box; it filled the entire length of the container, tilted so the point and the pommel fit neatly into opposing corners. It was a true greatsword, the blade alone nearly five feet long.</p><p></p><p>Bredan held his breath and slid the sword from the scabbard. He did not know how long the sword had been kept hidden here, but the blade was pristine, without even a speck of rust or any other blemish to mar its length. It felt surprisingly light for its size, but Bredan knew that was deceptive; after a few swings it would start to bear down in its wielder’s grip. It was both similar to the wooden practice sword he’d trained with and entirely different at the same time.</p><p></p><p>“You’ll have to tend it, and the armor too,” Karras said. Bredan started; for a moment he’d almost forgotten that his uncle was there. “I should be able to dig up some metal oil and whetstones, and some scouring sand. The leather wrap on the hilt will need to be replaced regularly too.”</p><p></p><p>“I know, uncle,” Bredan said. “You taught me well.” He hesitated a moment. “Whose sword was this?” he asked, though he thought he already knew the answer.</p><p></p><p>Karras’s eyes held confirmation even before he spoke. “These things belonged to your father.”</p><p></p><p>Bredan lowered the sword to rest across his lap. “Am I ready?” he asked.</p><p></p><p>His uncle nodded. “I’ve taught you all that I know. Just remember that the world out there is dangerous, and not all of those dangers will come at you when you’re expecting them.”</p><p></p><p>Bredan nodded. He put down the box and looked at his new possessions.</p><p></p><p>“You don’t have to do this, you know,” his uncle said.</p><p></p><p>“I know. But it’s time.”</p><p></p><p>“All right. Well, let me help you with this. It’ll take some getting used to.” He laughed. “I guess I should have trained you more in carrying this kind of gear.”</p><p></p><p>“Carrying heavy objects has definitely been a part of my training.”</p><p></p><p>“I suppose.” He picked up the armor. “I’ll take you through the steps one by one, so you’ll know how to do it yourself, out there. It goes a lot faster with someone to help.”</p><p></p><p>“Thank you, uncle.” For everything, he wanted to add, but somehow he couldn’t bring himself to say the words.</p><p></p><p>The elder Karras clasped him on the arm; maybe the words weren’t necessary. As he carefully unfolded the armor he said, “Oh, I almost forgot, when we’re done here I have something else for you.”</p><p></p><p>“This… all this is more than enough.”</p><p></p><p>“Yes, but I wasn’t the only one… well, you’ll see. Now pay attention while I show you how you put this on properly.”</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Lazybones, post: 7048242, member: 143"] Chapter 5 Bredan ducked low under a fallen beam and carefully watched where he was putting his feet as he moved into burned-out wreckage of the smithy. He had known every inch of this place intimately before the disaster, but now there were only ruined echoes of the once-familiar workshop. Only the two anvils were more or less intact, but one was completely buried by fallen debris and the other was covered in a crust of crisped shingles and ashes that distorted its distinctive shape. An acrid stink filled his nostrils and tickled his lungs with each breath he took. “Uncle?” He didn’t shout, but his voice sounded unnaturally loud in his own ears, as if the fire had transformed the interior of the shop into an empty temple. But a moment later he heard a shuffle and a call from the back room. “Bredan. I’m in here.” It was only a dozen steps from the entry to the open doorway, but Bredan took them slowly and with care. He thought he’d been prepared by the destruction in the front of the shop, but as he reached the doorway he sucked in a startled breath. The fire had been even more thorough here in its destruction. The neatly-ordered racks and their carefully-sorted cargoes had been transformed into a gory wreckage. The day was overcast and dreary, but even if the sun had been out it couldn’t have done more than highlight the devastation. The entire back wall of the room had collapsed along with the roof, letting in the pale light of the morning. Bredan’s uncle was over by that mound of debris, digging in the rubble. On seeing Bredan he waved him over. “Come here, give me a hand with this.” “Uncle, you shouldn’t be in here, it’s not safe.” Bredan looked up at the few roof beams left intact and the damaged walls that were still left around them. “This whole place could collapse.” “I just needed to get one thing.” From the soot smeared on his arms and his face he’d been digging around for quite some time already. For a moment Bredan’s mind flashed back to the way his uncle had looked the night before when he’d been lying on the Tulls’ porch, unable to move and barely able to breathe. For a moment he felt a tight fist close around his chest at the vividness of the memory. “The cleric said you needed to rest,” Bredan said. Karras paused in his excavation and wiped his brow. His hand left a smear across his forehead. “I’m fine, Bredan. Really. It was just bad luck, is all. But I’m here, and I’m all right. Okay?” “Yeah, sure.” “Now come on, I’ve almost got it, but it’s pretty well buried.” “What is it?” Bredan asked as he came forward, curious despite himself. He’d been in this room thousands of times, but he’d never been aware of anything buried in the back corner, away from the last of the racks that lined the length of the room. “Your legacy,” Karras said. “Here, I’ll hold this up… just reach down in there and grab the end of the box.” Bredan tensed as his uncle levered up a fallen beam, causing the whole mound of rubble to creak menacingly. But he knelt in the debris and reached into the dark space underneath the collapse. His hands immediately closed on something just below ground level; it must have been buried under the floor when the place was intact. It was blocky and heavy, but Bredan’s muscles had been built up from all the work in the forge and in the many sparring sessions besides. He had to plant his foot carefully where it wouldn’t strain the already precarious pile of debris and drag the object slowly clear with brute strength. It was a wooden box, long and low. Once Bredan had pulled it out of its niche Karras let the beam fall and the two smiths staggered clear with their prize as the rubble of the fallen wall shifted back into place. The box was covered in soot, and at first Bredan thought it had been wrecked by the fire, but as he ran a hand over its lid he realized it was solid and almost completely intact. His fingers encountered a pattern etched into the lid, and he wiped the ashes clear to reveal an abstract sigil he did not recognize. “What is this?” he asked. His uncle wiped his hands on his coat, and for a moment looked uncertain. “As I said, it’s your legacy. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about it sooner. I made a promise, a promise that I would keep it for you until you were ready.” Bredan’s eyes flashed back to the box. “What’s inside?” he asked, his throat suddenly dry in a way that had nothing to do with the ash and smoke in the air. “Open it.” Bredan had already noticed that the box was unusual, but only when he started looking for the hasp did he notice that it lacked either a locking mechanism or hinges. The ashes had highlighted the seam around the top, confirming that it was not just a solid hunk of wood, but there was no indication of how it was opened. Bredan had his dagger, but was reluctant to pry open the box given that he still didn’t know what was inside. He shot a questioning look at his uncle. “It will open for you,” Karras said. With that mysterious comment hanging in the air Bredan reached down and ran his fingers along the lid of the box. He was going to try and pull the lid up but didn’t get a chance. He felt something, a faint tingling that passed up his fingers, then the box sprang open of its own accord. Once it was open he could see the clever construction, the recessed interior hinges and swinging metal arms that supported the lid. The box was lined with soft felt and was free of even a speck of soot. Somehow it had survived the fire and being crushed without any effect upon its contents. Those contents were spread across the full length of the container. Bredan reached down for what he first thought was a folded blanket until he felt the familiar strength of steel. As he grabbed hold of the material and pulled it free he saw that it was a hauberk of fine mesh chainmail, a full suit that had be worth hundreds of gold pieces. The Karras smithy hadn’t done much work with armor—there was a specialist in town who handled that and weapons—but Bredan knew enough to know that what he was holding was exceptional quality. There was more in the box, matching greaves and other accessories to the armor, but moving the suit had revealed something else that caught his attention. Careful to place the armor down on the edge of the box so as to avoid getting fouling it in the charred muck of the room, he drew out the sword. It was in a scabbard of black leather trimmed with red, attached to a baldric so it could be worn slung across the back. The size of it explained the bulk of the box; it filled the entire length of the container, tilted so the point and the pommel fit neatly into opposing corners. It was a true greatsword, the blade alone nearly five feet long. Bredan held his breath and slid the sword from the scabbard. He did not know how long the sword had been kept hidden here, but the blade was pristine, without even a speck of rust or any other blemish to mar its length. It felt surprisingly light for its size, but Bredan knew that was deceptive; after a few swings it would start to bear down in its wielder’s grip. It was both similar to the wooden practice sword he’d trained with and entirely different at the same time. “You’ll have to tend it, and the armor too,” Karras said. Bredan started; for a moment he’d almost forgotten that his uncle was there. “I should be able to dig up some metal oil and whetstones, and some scouring sand. The leather wrap on the hilt will need to be replaced regularly too.” “I know, uncle,” Bredan said. “You taught me well.” He hesitated a moment. “Whose sword was this?” he asked, though he thought he already knew the answer. Karras’s eyes held confirmation even before he spoke. “These things belonged to your father.” Bredan lowered the sword to rest across his lap. “Am I ready?” he asked. His uncle nodded. “I’ve taught you all that I know. Just remember that the world out there is dangerous, and not all of those dangers will come at you when you’re expecting them.” Bredan nodded. He put down the box and looked at his new possessions. “You don’t have to do this, you know,” his uncle said. “I know. But it’s time.” “All right. Well, let me help you with this. It’ll take some getting used to.” He laughed. “I guess I should have trained you more in carrying this kind of gear.” “Carrying heavy objects has definitely been a part of my training.” “I suppose.” He picked up the armor. “I’ll take you through the steps one by one, so you’ll know how to do it yourself, out there. It goes a lot faster with someone to help.” “Thank you, uncle.” For everything, he wanted to add, but somehow he couldn’t bring himself to say the words. The elder Karras clasped him on the arm; maybe the words weren’t necessary. As he carefully unfolded the armor he said, “Oh, I almost forgot, when we’re done here I have something else for you.” “This… all this is more than enough.” “Yes, but I wasn’t the only one… well, you’ll see. Now pay attention while I show you how you put this on properly.” [/QUOTE]
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