Sotek arrived at the forge and true enough, there standing over the top of it was a giant eagle carved out of the rock watching over the Skyforge and the courtyard. Just like what the whelp earlier had described.
Eorlund the blacksmith gave one look at Sotek and sighed. His voice sounded flat and unemotional.
“Give me your sword and scabbard”. Sotek took off the scabbard with the sword still inside it, and handed them over to the brute of a man. The blacksmith took them and literally threw them on top of a pile of scrap. He then tossed a different looking Scabbard over to Sotek and muttered to him. “Put it on”.
Feeling a bit perplexed, Sotek did what he was told. Eorlund nodded as if he had finalized a thought which he had kept to himself.
“Good now grab that iron”. Again Sotek silently followed his commands despite the confusion and apprehension he was feeling. “I’ve been speaking with the other shop owners. It seems you have been making an impression”. He half smiled at Sotek but it did little to restore the Argonians confidence. “At least a better one than here anyhow. Now, make yourself an axe”. As Sotek picked up the iron bars, Eorlund spoke again to him but this time his words had more life as if the very nature of Blacksmithing was his religion. “Remember when you make armor or weapons, you put your very soul in them. For if they fall then you fall”.
Sotek followed his instructions to the letter as he slowly learned the art of weapon making. Over the next few hours an axe gradually started to take shape. While Sotek worked the Iron, Eorlund became steadily impressed with Sotek’s work. Not so much the skill for his blows were of an amateur, but it was the patience and his sharp eye for detail that impressed him however he kept such thoughts to himself. When Sotek finished he sharpened it up. Eorlund took it off him and examined it carefully. He smiled to himself as the moonlight glistened on the edge of the head.
“That’s a good axe. Steady, strong”.
“Spirit”
The blacksmith stopped and starred at Sotek. His face screwed up slightly as if he disbelieved his own ears.
“Pardon?”
Sotek weighed the axe in his hand for a few moments before giving it a few slow deliberate over arm swings.
“Spirit... That’s what I’m calling her”
Eorlund fought the urge to smile as he watched the Argonian who stood before him.
“Calling who?” Even before he asked the question Eorlund knew the answer but he wanted confirmation before he jumped to any conclusions, no matter how obvious they were. He wanted to make sure.
Sotek paused and held out the axe towards Eorlund for the fleetest of seconds.
“My axe. Her names ‘Spirit”. Sotek replied as he gripped it tightly in his hand while he slowly practiced a more few moves with it.
The blacksmith looked at the axe then at Sotek before chuckling to himself.
“There’s only one other I knew to name his weapon when it was made”.
Sotek stopped with some surprise as he studied the features on the Blacksmith. He shook his head slightly to break his trance like stare before giving Eorlund his full attention once more.
“Who was that?”
“Who? The Harbinger Kodlak. Twilight. He stood right there where you are now when I made it… During twilight on a full moon”. He then lifted his head up and gazed at the twin moons which were high in the sky while ever so slowly traversing the darkness above them. “Like tonight”. Then he sat down for a minute wondering about Sotek.
He then turned to Sotek and started to talk far more sternly to him, almost telling him off like he was some street urchin who was in trouble.
“Now about today”.
Sotek looked down at his feet as he sighed.
“I struggled today. Been a bad day for me”.
The blacksmith laughed at the seemingly pathetic Argonian in front of him.
“To be honest the Harbinger thought it was the companions that had a hard day. Actually you impressed him”.
Sotek’s pointed teeth showed slightly almost as if he was starting to snarl. His tail slammed down heavily upon the ground with a large thump, throwing up a small cloud of dust and debris.
“You jest?” He didn’t think for one second that the blacksmith meant it.
Eorlund huffed at the suggestion.
“Jest? Oh I don’t jest, and between you and me he was impressed. Although not with your ermm skills, it was your…” At that moment Sotek’s axe caught his eye. He gave out a quick loud chuckle and pointed straight at the weapon. “Spirit”.
Eorlund pulled out a red hot nugget and placed it on the anvil.
“Hammer this down”. Sotek reached for the hammer but Eorlund shook his head and pulled Sotek’s arm away from the tools. “No, use your fist”.
Sotek gawped at him then he stared at the red hot nugget of metal
“But I can’t”.
Eorlund just shrugged dismissively at him.
“So why try?”
He then pointed to the forge which was glowing bright oranges and reds as the coals burned fiercely in the moonlight.
“Stamp the forge out with your bare feet”.
Sotek just gawped at him
“Impossible!”
“Of course it’s impossible” He replied blankly. “Ok here is an easy one, collect some water from the trough”
Sotek reached across for a cup but Eorlund gently but firmly grabbed his wrist.
“No, no ladle. Use these” he then smugly handed a pair of tongs to Sotek.
Sotek fingers wrapped loosely around the tongs as he gazed hopelessly into the trough.
“But you can’t collect water with tongs…”
“So... Why... Try?” Eorlund spoke loudly but clearly emphasised each and every word.
He pointed to the edge of the forge and prompted Sotek to sit down before he continued his speech.
“Vilkas is the iron. He’ll hurt you far more than you will him. Farkas is the forge, you will never beat him down. Aela!!! Now she’s the worst. Aela’s the water!!! She will always, always be faster, more agile and out shoot you”.
Eorlund stared down at the empty training yard before turning his head back towards Sotek. “You have a fighter’s heart, but you’re no fighter. Not yet. But however, you have magic at your disposal. You can make weapons. Hell you even mix potions and no guesses who enchanted the blade you used. The three Companions, they each have one strength it completely out classes you, but you have many, they don’t… Use the right weapon against the right opponent and you will win every time”.
Sotek stood there staring at the water thinking. Then he started casting a spell ‘Frost’ on the trough causing the water to freeze. He took the hammer and smashed the ice. Finally, using the tongs, he picked up a piece of ice and passed it over to Eorlund.
Eorlund smiled as he glanced at the piece of ice held out before him. Laughing loudly he slapped the side of his leg.
“Damn, you got it”. With that he smiled then walked away leaving Sotek alone with his thoughts.
Over the next few days Sotek practiced with the bow, shield and axe. The axe ‘Spirit’, Sotek liked. It felt like it was a part of him. It felt right as he wielded it in his hands. The weapon even started to flow with his movements. Vilkas, Aela and Farkas trained him but none of them were impressed when they learned the axe was named ‘Spirit’. The three of them still acted harshly towards him but not as bad as they were on his first day. Sotek wasn’t a fighter but he wasn’t stupid either. He was fully aware they didn’t like him, he also knew the whelps thought him a joke. He could feel the resentment. But at the same time he knew the Harbinger and the Jarl had faith in him and so despite everything Sotek wouldn’t stop or quit. Instead he listened, trained and started to learn, giving it everything he had.
Comments
*Phil... There's a fair bit I add with Sotek and histail. He currently has around seven 'Tail Moods'...
I really apreciate the time you took to read it let alone comment. Well spotted. It supposed to be Amature. I'm fixing it now. Sotek does end up going to Eorlund on a few occasions I feel Eorlund deserves more than just being 'the blasks... more
One question on paragraph 4, do you mean amature or armature?