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Private/Closed Charms Fantasy: An Epic-Fantasy Adventure!

Lexlecap

Previously Sillet
Discussion Thread: https://pokecharms.com/threads/discussion-charms-fantasy-an-epic-fantasy-adventure.18396/
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Despite having traveled for one month, Zent was still far away from Gravilla.

Zent went to the city of Trym, probably the city where things were the most expensive. I had to spend many Arbits to sleep in an uncomfortable inn. It was that or sleeping with the rats.

The next day Zent went to visit a well-known blacksmith in the city, the elderly grandfather Theov. Theov was Grieg's father, his dear dad. Unfortunately, Theov was a stingy old man who cared more about money than his family.

He went to visit him at his place of work, near the inn where he had rested.

"Hi, grandpa... I need you..." Zent said, before being interrupted by his grandfather.

"That voice?... Afzen! Come and give your old grandfather a hug!"

"Look, I'm in a hurry, I need you to repair my bow"

"You were always so boring, the last time we saw each other you were a spoiled baby, but it was funny when you fell off the bed I made you" Theov said picking up Zent's bow.

"A dirty sheet on top of the fireplace is not a bed, old man, just fix my bow, quick"

"Argh, as arrogant as your father. You'll have to wait"

Zent fell silent and decided to wait while sitting on a bench.
 
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Dras watched as the smith Thevo works on his blade. "Eh, this is a strange material, care to say what?" The old man asked. "No," Dras replied. The blade was made from a material Dras forged himself. He called it Claw Steel. "You wouldn't know what it was if I told you." The wolf-man stepped out to get some fresh air while the sword was sharpened and the handle replaced.
 
Erin gave a half-hearted smile and wave, sending away a grizzled old man who had purchased a weasel pelt. It hadn't been much; a mere sum of 600 arbits due to the accidental tooth marks that had ruined the otherwise well-intact fur pelt. Money was money, however, and Erin was in no place to complain. The man shot back a suspicious glance that the fox bicara would've loved to retort to with a No refunds! or at very least a Have a nice day!, but of course that was well-nigh impossible.

The fact that her, ah, friend had been mysteriously kidnapped along with virtually every other girl—woman or child—in the land didn't help her mood either. One minute she was there, the next morning she was gone. Just like that. No dramatic scene or slow-motion yell in the rain, just a complete disappearance. Had it not been for listening in on the rumours, Erin would've likely assumed her to be sharpening her daggers, or off to purchase something that Erin herself couldn't provide, but as soon as the first whispers reached her ears she knew that Araweynn was gone.

Finally, Erin's travelling days had come to good use as she had trekked across the land in order to find the culprit, but everyone seemed to have a different story as to who that person would happen to be. "Surely it's the mayor of Primstone." "Jonothan, you fool, such a man has too much of an ego to accomplish a task as such. It's the count of Bororgrove. I'm positive!" "Never would he do such a thing, his brain is the size of a walnut! It has to be someone in Orobeck, I know it."

Such rumours seemed to change with every town she stepped foot or paw into, yet here she was, being lead on a wild goose chase into the town of Orobeck. Of course, she immediately realised the kidnapper wasn't here, but it was still a presumably not-hostile-environment to settle down in for a while with a large stretch of forest nearby for gathering game.

With a sigh, Erin pocketed the arbits. With luck, she would be able to buy some form of replacement dart for her blowgun. Her last sleeve had been spent taking down some form of cow-like creature—she didn't know it's name—but it sold well. From that point, she had been relying solely on her fox forme for hunting. It was taxing on the mind and, evidentally, the animals themselves. Perhaps a blacksmith of some sort would carry them? Did Orobeck even have a blacksmith? Erin was about to find out. Turning a corner, she strode down one of the town's dusty roads, glancing around for any sign of such.
 
Symon grumbled as he lowered himself onto the mossy stump of a tree. After a quick glance around to make sure he was safe, he undid his flask from his belt and took a few sips of water. As much as he loathed to accept it, he was starting to feel his age in his joints, and he was finding himself having to take more breaks on his travels. Beyond the strain on his knees, he still felt as healthy as any man his age could hope to feel, but to save himself from further problems, he felt it might be wise to start looking for alternate ways to make his long treks.

The nearest city was half a day away at most, he saw on the leather map he carried that was showing signs of wear. He could make it there by nightfall, spend the night in a warm bed after some a touch of mead and in the morning, he could explore the market. Someone would most likely be selling a horse for the amount of money that he had to spend on it.

With a sigh, he got back on his feet, clipped his flask back onto his belt and adjusted his backpack. Staying on the forest roads after sundown was more trouble than it was worth, so it was time to get going.

~~~

At the dying of the light, and with the walls of the city on the horizon, Symon heard the scream coming from the forest. His grip instantly tightened on the hilt of his blade, and he cautiously ran off the road into the thick shrubbery crowned by lush trees. Soon, he came towards the edge of clearing- and barely had time to steady himself before someone ran into him, nearly knocking them both off his feet.

A young girl in with brown hair in a blue maid's dress with apron looked up at him with a mixture of terror and relief on her face. She was out of breath, and tears were streaming down her scratched-up face. "Th- They're after me!" Was all she could manage to say as she gripped his arm with a frenzied strength that he thought might leave a bruise. "Who-" Before Symon could finish the first word of his question, the answer became clear.

On the other side of the clearing, two figures burst ran out of the forest, stopping in their tracks when they saw Symon, who quickly ushered the quivering girl to stand behind him. Even in what little remained of daylight it wasn't hard to see what the attackers were; Shamblers, the reanimated corpses of fallen fighters. Their rotting skin was discoloured and falling apart, and their armour wasn't in much a of a better shape. One pointed a bony finger at Symon. "Give meat." It croaked, spittle flying out of its mouth.

Symon gave them a steeled glare as he unsheated his blade- made of a material much darker than steel, curved towards the top and single-edged. Stroking a finger along the back of the blade, he uttered an ancient and powerful word, causing the blade to be engulfed by a ghostly white-blue flame. "This is your last night on this soil, creature." He said, and held out the sword. The Shamblers, taken aback at first, gave each other a dumbfounded look before charging right at him, one with sword in hand, the other with a spear.

Symon charged towards the middle of the clearing too, keeping the girl out of reach of the monsters. The Shambler with the sword cut at his side with surprising agility, the blade deflected by Symon's own only at the last moment. Lacking the space for a counterattack, Symon punted him with his armored shoulder, sending the Shambler flying onto the ground just in time for Symon to lunge of of the way of an incoming spear.

With his free hand, he took hold of the spear's wooden shaft and uttered another word, causing the shaft to explode into splinters just where he held it. His sword he plunged into the spearwielding Shambler's shoulder, where it pierced the armor, making the creature reel back. It threw the remains of its spear to the ground and gave a harrowing battlecry as it charged him blindly. Symon readied himself with his sword, but at the last second dodged and tripped up the Shambler, sending it sprawling at the young girl's feet.

Just then, Symon heard a footstep behind him- but he turned around too slowly. The Shambler's swing of his sword sent Symon's blade flying in the same direction the other Shambler had tripped. The Shambler gave an eerie grin, thinking that by disarming Symon, he had already won the fight. In one quick move, Symon took hold of the monster's sword arm and placed his other hand on its chest. He looked the monster in the eyes and uttered a final word, incomprehensible to most people- but just as the first word had meant moonflame, and the second word had meant shatter, this word meant burn.

A flash of light and heat illuminated the forest clearing for a blink of an eye, after which the Shambler fell lifeless to the ground, a hole burned into its chest and its clothes still smoldering.

Symon turned around then to deal with the last foe, searching the ground for his sword- which was nowhere to be seen... Until he realized it was in the hands of the girl. The Shambler was trying to scramble to its feet just in front of her, and the girl swallowed hard, brought the sword up over her head, and swung down- bringing an end to the undeath of the Shambler.

Feeling an odd sense of pride for the girl, Symon walked over to her, taking his sword and placing his hand on her shoulder. "Come on, lass. Let's get you inside the walls of the city first."
 
Lyenia walked into the a random blacksmith shop at the entrance of a small unmarked town and looked around. She spotted what she thought could only be an employee and walked over to him. "excuse me but i need a replacement for this string" She said handing him her heavy crossbow with a noticeably broken string hanging off of the middle of the stock. He examined it tilting it upward slightly and chuckled "Hmm it looks like you came in just in time, we only have one more string in this size" "well, lucky me i guess".

The blacksmith walked over to his work bench and pulled out the new string from a large box on the ground next to him. He then tied the string to the sides of prod and handed it back to Lyenia. "anything else ma'am" She stood and thought for a moment "actually yes! could you possibly sharpen my bolts they've been a bit dull for some time" "oh yeah easy job there". He got up and walked over to the giant grinding wheel and started turning the petal gently pressing the tips of the bolts. "oh you can do more then one at a time" "well when you've been doing this for a long time you can basically do anything like this"

After a few more minutes of welding the handed Lyenia her bolts back. "thank you sir" She said handing him a bag of 5000 arbits "no its on the house! You've been my first customer in a while" Lyenia shoved the bag of arbits in his hands and nodded her head no. "Please take these" "No i can't" Lyenia sighed "OK I'll take these off your hands". As she was walking out of the door she placed the arbits down on a table closing the door behind her.
 
"Don't loose you footing!" coached a deep voice which fell silent before yelling again, "What did I tell you? Now you're stuck! Grab the ledge.". From above the man who yelled a young girl could be spotted, she trembled and her arms grew sore as she reached up and grabbed the ledge of a roof-top. The man below, Zion squinted against the sun's harsh rays and he used a gloved hand to shade his eyes, "Almost." he rocked back and forth on his toes and heels as he watched his apprentice. A grin spread across his lips when she reached the top of a stone building.
"This is dangerous."
Finally the other voice spoke, Chiara leaned back over he edge to look at her smug companion who gave her thumbs up.
"That's why I'm making you do it." Zion called back, the girl thought for a moment before deciding she didn't have an argument and resuming her search. Her mentor had commanded her to scale the building to look for the black-smith shop after he had lost the map.
It took a moment, but suddenly A gasp of excitement could be heard from the roof
"There it is! Just down the road." Chiara beamed with pride. The girl then walked back and began her descend down the building's wall. Each groove in the brick surface allowed for Chiara to get down with ease, and to be honest Zion's advice hadn't helped her much at all... or at least it didn't feel like it. "I found it!" Chiara exclaimed with a pointed finger as she grinned up at Zion.

"Good job kid. What do you want a medal?" The older of the two scoffed before walking past her and towards the black smith. He unsheathed his sword form it perch on his back and examined it's dulled side, it was in need of some good forgery but truth be told he had been in kinda a financial stick for a while now.
 
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