Ironhand the town, the Knights, the Legend! (Part 1)

by **Ironhand(Dakota)** Sun Oct 28, 2012 4:13 am

THE PROPHECY

As written by the arcane ancients, they prophesied of one given a gift of great power from the gods at birth as marked by a feather on his hand. When he becomes of age, a sign of light in the darkest hour of night will shine forth across the land and all that is left good of heart will unite to bring forth an army to dispatch the evil blight that has plagued the world for so long. He himself will bring retribution of the gods' vengeance to those that sought to keep all in the chaotic dark despair and slavery of evil. A messenger of hope from the gods, an avenging angel of the innocent that have perished and a symbol of fear to the demons of chaos and darkness for he will bring death to the wicked and send their souls to be tormented for eternity by the spirits of those that died at the hands of evil.

BEGINNING OF A LEGEND...

Many fables and lores are carried on the winds of our land, lores of conquests and riches, fables of chaos and destruction, legends of great heroes and ominous villains, myths of great beings with unimaginable arcane skills and demons with the powers of darkest hell itself. During the darkest times there is one tale yet to be written that will give balance back to the world.

A TOWN WITH AN UNKNOWN SECRET

Gently falling flakes of snow glisten the thick evergreen trees and land with a quiet ticking on the small dirt road, which is slushed over from horses and trade caravans recently passing through. Although there is no breeze to speak of, the air is still very icy crisp, as evident of the breaths of steam from the friars' horses while they travel at a brisk walking gait through the whitened forest path. "Brother Jaffel not to be trivial, but should we not be heading to Windsong castle?" Friar Keeter asks while adjusting his scarf to secure more warmth around his neck. "After all, the dark legions will soon be upon the outskirts of Scilium Forest and it has been requested all healers will be needed by King Ortheous" the young friar quizzingly states, again adjusting his scarf to get even warmer. Jaffel still peering ahead at the road calmly voices back at Friar Keeter "We will be there in plenty of time young brother." Friar Jaffel adjusts his seating in the saddle a bit to stretch his back some as he leans back slightly. "I made a promise to see a good friend and I am not one for leaving things undone. Besides, we are only a day and half ride from the castle and Scilium is more than 3 weeks gallop from Windsong." Keeter scoffs at the cold around his ears and pulls his hood up with one hand over his head. "I hope this friend has a warm hut with some brandy." Keeter mutters to himself, as he shivers a bit from the cold wet hood on the back of his neck, then he clucks his grey gelding to quicken his pace to catch up to the focused middle aged Jaffel.

After a while, the trees begin to thin as the horses steadily climb the gentle upward sloping road, more of the darkened grey sky now shows through the canopy of icy snow whitened branches. Although it is just past half day, the shadowy blanket of clouds make it seem later. When they come to the crest of the hill, Jaffel gently pulls the reins and clucks at his sorrow mare to stop. Friar Keeter gently slows his horse and pulls the reins to stop next to Friar Jaffel. "There it is young Keeter" as he raises his arm and points down the clearing. Friar Keeter puts a hand on top of his head and slightly pulls back his canvas hood so he could see better. Squinting from the somewhat blinding brightness of the white covered meadow, on the other side he could see a bustling village with billowing smoke rising from various dark stoned chimneys scaling the sides of buildings and huts. Behind it was a thick forested treeline that suddenly jaunt upwards on the sides of charcoal grey and darkened tan icy cliffs. Keeter continues scanning upward with his eyes, now seeing the backdrop of foggy mountains with a smattering of trees on the slopes that continue upward and then hide behind the winter storm clouds. "That is Ironhand, the well known traders town nestled into the base of the Cloud Cave Mountains." Jaffel exclaims with a smile coming over his salt and peppered bearded face. The young friar still surveying the township ahead, quizzically speaks back to Jaffel "Ironhand?" concentrating on the name for he recalls hearing it somewhere before. "The same town known for an ancient sword and the blacksmith that created it, right?" as he turns and looks at Jaffel for reassurance of his questioning answer, after remembering history lessons from his schooling. Jaffel chuckling back at him "Hah! I see something went through those ears while you were sleeping in Zafier's class". Keeter snaps back sheepishly, "I wasn't slee...uhm well not much anyway. " pushing his scarf back around his neck and cheeks to hide his flushed face. Jaffel laughed at the young friar again "Truth be told young man, we all slept through Zafier's long winded ancient story telling." Jaffel clucks softly at his horse to coax her to start moving forward again "Come lad, food and warmth await us 'less you prefer to become an ice golem." Keeter grabs his reins up and gently urges his horse to follow the laughing older friar. "Zafier mentioned the ancient writings were burned and the actual name of the blacksmith and the sword that was crafted was lost, why is that?" he asks. Jaffel with a couple of downward swipes of his hand to rub the snow off his short beard, looks over at Keeter, "I do not know myself brother Keeter. Maybe simply to keep it from those that would try to profit for gold or power after the blacksmith died. One can only guess. I only know most everyone thinks it is simply a myth, spread about the land an eon ago to keep interest in the town... and keeping in mind, blacksmithing and the mining trade is the main source of income around here." Friar Keeter pulls his hood down a bit more snugly as a frosty wind now picks up while they cross the snow blanketed meadow. "It does seem far fetched, especially since no one seems to know the story of why the sword was even made, or anything about the blacksmith and his family. There's not even a child's tale, a song or anything. Perhaps they are right." he states as again he shivers a bit from the cold wind. Jaffel gleamingly boasts "Perhaps you are right, but then again, maybe those that know want you to believe it is just a legend. Afterall the greatest kept secret is the one that nobody believes is real."The pair are halfway across the frozen meadow now as Friar Keeter can already start to smell the roasting chickens and boiling potatoes as his stomach begins to grumble for food. Soon they will be at the stables and finally maybe the young man can find some warmth.

Intrigued? Will try to start posting a bi-weekly update giving the rest of the story...

DISCLAIMER: I am not a literary writer nor do I have any experience writing stories so I apologize upfront for improper grammar and punctuation. Sincere thanks for reading, Dakota

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