The coals glowed brightly as the fire raged in the stone furnace. The heat forming cracks along the ashy white surfaces, renewing the fire’s strength. Nestled in the bed of coals lay a piece of steel, glowing red from the intense heat. A massive black hand plucked the metal from the fire and sat it on the anvil, shaping with blows from his hammer.
Temour stared vacantly at the burning metal. He had lost the feeling in his hands long ago. Being a blacksmith back home often meant forging with the appropriate tools, and his kind were naturally resilient to burning flames. The rustle of cloth drew his attention. Ezet sat a basket next to him, and inside lay bundles of braided copper wire.
“The wire thou requested.” Ezet said, adjusting the shawl on her head. A dried rivulet of blood stained her forehead.
“Appreciated.” Temour replied, setting the metal back into the flames. “I shalt work on this next.” A chime came from the main shop.
“Zesh is in need of more nails, and his tools need sharpening.”
“Does he need them now?”
“He needs two now to finish a table the master requested.”
Temour nodded solemnly as he gripped an iron stud on his collarbone. The piece of metal broke free from his flesh with strings of blood hanging it off it, then he tore off another stud. With a hot iron, Temour burned the wounds closed on his flesh. It didn’t take long to turn the iron studs into nails.
“Two nails, as requested.” He gently placed the metal in Ezet’s hands.
“Temour, I have another job for you.” They both looked up at the zymarrian man entering the forge with a young girl at his side. “Mistress Vaera needs her kitchen knives sharpened.”
“I shalt tend to it after I complete this component for the master,” Temour replied, “It is nearly completed, master Ashamahn.”
Ashamahn turned to the little girl. “Do you mind waiting for a while?”
“I don’t mind.” Vaera smiled at the zymarrian, and he silently disappeared back inside. The girl stood to the side, staring at the copper braids. “Is this for jewelry?” she smiled, holding one up.
“Tis for the master.” Ezet’s lips twisted into an imperceivable smile. “Once coated in tin and silver, it’ll be used for the master’s machine.”
“It’s quite soft for being copper.” Vaera stared at it in fascination. “Almost feels like… hair.” Her smile faded when she looked up at Ezet. She dropped the braid in horror. “I’m so sorry!”
Ezet kneeled, petting Vaera’s head. “Don’t be. Tis our duty to be of use to our master.” Her hands gingerly ran through the girl’s hair.
The silence felt palpable among them that not even the rhythmic beating of metal could dispel it. Both women watched as the metal took on a strange shape and after a final strike, Temour drowned the metal in oil. Black scars seared the sides of the piece as Temour wiped away the remaining oil, and he sat it to the side.
“That didn’t come from you, did it?” Vaera stared in awe as steam danced into the air.
“No, it’d kill me to give that much metal.” Temour said, his deep voice made the chuckle come out as a grumble. “But mine hair shalt be used to coat Ezet’s braids.” He grabbed a whetstone from a table and started sharpening the knives. Despite his large hands, he gracefully ran the blades across the oiled stone.
“So, you’ll shave your head as well.” Temour glanced at her frowning face. Rare was it that such an expression stoked his heart.
“Do not mourn child,” He said, “The mountain does not cry because it is mined, and neither do we.”
“But the mountains aren’t alive!” Vaera’s shout shocked him. He hadn’t expected such a small girl to make such a noise. Temour set the knife down and kneeled next to her. Even on one knee, he toured over her.
“That is where you’re wrong.” He cupped her chin and stared into her eyes. “The mountains art very much alive, and tis unwise to incur their wrath.” He handed back the knives. “Be careful child, I wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.”
“Thank you.” Vaera whispered, taking the utensils and quietly leaving.
Ezet stepped up beside Temour. “Poor child, I fear we may have broken her.”
“She will heal from this,” Temour replied, “It’ll make her stronger for it. Now come, I’ll need your assistance.” He picked up a thick bladed razor and handed it to her.
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The days passed with little change. Temour stood over the wooden table, molding golden wire around the guard of a long sword. The hot metal hissed as his fingers pressed it into the wood and twisted it into golden braids. He reached over to the small pick and plucked several of the threads. It was a long process, and the heat from the gold washed over his face, but this was a task he needed to finish. Finally, he set the hilt down to cool. The gold wires wrapped around the wood and steel handle in the image of thorny vines. It sat next to twenty identical hilts, each cooling in the cool evening air.
“Excellently done, Temour.” Ashamahn clapped the giant arms. “They’ll go nicely with the uniforms that Ezet made.”
“Twas the point,” Temour replied, “Have more materials arrived? I can’t continue working on the master’s machine without them.”
“A new shipment should arrive by the end of the week. Til then, you are to work on the equipment for the master’s knights.” Ashamahn looked towards the sinking sun. “However, it is getting late. For your diligent work, we shall head to the tavern tonight. Go tell the others to get cleaned up.”
Temour nodded and lumbered inside. Well stocked shelves filled the store front with clearly marked tags under each item. The zymarrian merchant oversaw the creation of the shop, from the utensils neatly displayed behind the counter to the woolen dolls sitting in the window. Temour couldn’t deny the man was a master of his craft. Not many could make a shop profitable in the lower city, but Ashamahn had. The thought passed as Temour stepped into the open workshop on the other side.
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Wood shavings littered the floor of the wooden carpentry shop. Zesh kneeled on the floor, sculpting floral effigies into the side of a long pew while his sister sewed the seat cushion. The bench was a testament to the young oruelians skills. Its finely carved handles and feet were full of details that would make the seat worthy of any cathedral. Ezet’s work was equally impression. It was rare for seats to have uniform cushions, but Ezet was one of the few seamstresses that could do it.
“Time to put the tools away young ones.” Temour said with a smile. “Get cleaned, so that we may feast this night.”
The young oruelians nodded and rose silently. A comfortable silence fell upon them as they headed out back to a water trough. The cold water barely registered on their skins as they splashed their faces.
“Shalt I prepare dinner?” Ezet asked wiping the water way.
“No, we are headed to the tavern tonight.” Temour replied. “It seems we are being rewarded for our work.” Their eyes sparkled as a small smile formed on their lips, and it brought a smile to Temour. “You have done well.” He said clapping each on the shoulder, and the young ones lovingly touched his hands.
The three of them headed inside where Ashamahn stood waiting. The zymarrian gave them a broad smile as he led them across the square to the tavern. The other night, adventurers had made a ruckus, but now it was completely silent.
“Welcome!” The barmaids called out to them with warm smiles. “Please sit wherever you want.”
Unfortunately, not many of the tables could sit the giants, so they had to sit on the floor. They could still eat from the tables though.
“What can we get for you all?” Ada gracefully slid next to their table.
“Thrice water and soup for us.” Temour chuckled as he looked at the expectant Ezet and Zesh.
Ada frowned. “Is that all? You’re free to order anything on the house.”
“Pardon?” Temour simply stared at the beautiful woman.
“The master’s orders. Any who bear his mark are to be served for free.” Something about her words felt wrong, especially when she started chuckling at them. “How about we bring out a little of everything for you.”
“And I’ll have a bottle of your finest wine.” Ashamahn called out.
“Tis what she said true?” Ezet whispered, glancing worriedly at the bar. “We won’t be charged for our meal.”
“It seems our master is quite generous. We should triple our efforts starting tomorrow.” Ashamahn leered at the women.
“Agreed.” Before Temour could say anything else, the barmaids were setting down the food.
Two large bowls of salad, a large pot of soup, and entire roasted chicken, and plates of seared vegetables were set in front of them. Ashamahn laughed gleefully at the feast laid in front of them, but the oruelians stared in disbelief.
“Please enjoy everyone!” Ada smiled warmly at them as she set down glasses and poured a rich amber liquid into them. “Here, I think you’ll like this.” Ashamahn didn’t hesitate to take the small glass and downed the contents in delight.
“What is it?” Temour carefully picked up the glass with three fingers.
“It’s whiskey.” Temour’s gaze shifted between the glass and Ada. He took a sip, and a fruity taste burned its way down throat. “What do you think?”
“Tis nice.” Temour replied, enjoying the warm sensation in his stomach. “But I fear we shalt become spoiled.”
“There’s nothing wrong with being a little spoiled.” Ada tenderly kissed his cheek. “After all, you three have done wonderful works for us, and we’d like to repay it.”
Ada’s soft touch sent sparks running along Temour’s skin, and he shifted under her grasp. He couldn’t remember the last time he enjoyed a woman’s loving embrace, and he wasn’t the only one. Zesh sat next to him, trying not to look at the barmaid running a hand across his back. Instead, the poor boy sought to hide his embarrassment with the food in front of them. Another figure approached their table, and they all stared in shock as the young girl held up a package.
“Mistress Ezet, this is for you.” Vaera smiled sheepishly.
“Child, what happened to thine hair?” Ezet said. The young girl’s hair barely hung past her ears.
“I asked mother to cut it.” Vaera said nervously. “It wasn’t right for you to lose your beautiful hair, so… here.” Ezet carefully took the package, and a tear rolled down her cheek as she pulled out a wig with brown hair. An unending silence fell on the table. “Do you not like it?” Vaera whimpered as Ezet ran her fingers through the hair.
Ezet gave her a warm, broad smile. “I shalt cherish it, little sister.”
The tender moment was broken when the door slammed open, and five men entered. They walked with disciplined steps as their heavy boots echoed throughout the hall. Each wore decent uniforms with an arming sword at their belt. All signs pointing to off duty guards.
“Is this the tavern with the amu’ryjin minstrel?”
“It is.” Ada replied with a polite smile. “But Lady Mina is off tonight. She will perform tomorrow though.”
“Well then go fetch her! We’ve had a long day protecting the city, and we deserve to be entertained.” The guards grumbled, looking around the hall in contempt.
“I’m afraid that won’t be possible.” Ada smiled. “Lady Mina is out with the master and won’t be back for some time. Perhaps my girls and I can entertain you for tonight.” She ran a hand along his chin.
The Guard’s eyed the women. “If we wanted to be entertained by whores, then we’d go to a brothel. Now go fetch the amu’ryjin.” Ada screamed as the guard violently pulled her hand away. Wood scraped against stone as the oruelians stood up.
“My friends, let’s not be so aggressive.” Ashamahn jumped from his chair and rushed over to the guards. “Come, let us enjoy good food, drink, and the company of beautiful women.” He smiled as he freed Ada, but his eyes kept glancing at the shifting giants.
“Get away snake!” The guard shoved Ashamahn into a nearby table. A shadow fell on them, and they stared up at the oruelians.
“Thou art ruining our festivities.” Temour deep voice rumbled in his chest. His grey eyes staring sharply at the men. “Leave, now.”
“Quick everyone, to the bar!”
The guards placed a hand on their weapons. “Sit down giant! Otherwise, we’ll cut you down to size.” His eyes bulged as a hand grasped his neck, and his legs swung wildly in the air.
Temour’s hand tightened, but his attention was drawn to the ringing of metal. A sword dug into his arm causing steaming blood to fall. The guard stared in horror as the oruelian turned his gaze to him.
The guard that attacked Temour backed away, but he didn’t get far. Ezet towered over him, and her fingers wrapped around his head. He tried pulling her hands away, but her grasp held strong. His screams drowned out the sounds of his skull cracking.
“Monsters!” Another guard drew his weapon, but a pair of hands grasped his shoulders. He flew, crashing into a table, and released a terrible howl. He cried as she stared at the bones poking out of his pants, and the foot pressed against his leg. The guard trembled as Zesh lifted him into the air. The blade whistled through the air, digging into Zesh’s shoulder, but the guard whimpered as the oruelian maintained his grip.
“Get rid of them already!” Ashamahn shouted from the bar. “You’re destroying the master’s tavern.”
Bodies crashed through the door into the dark night, and the guards shied away from the giant shadows approaching. “Don’t come back, ever.” Temour’s growl shook the air. The three giants watched as the three guards limped away.
Their hard gazes softened as they looked upon the destruction. “Forgive us.” The three of them looked down in shame.
Ada pressed a cloth against Temour’s wound with a bright smile. “You saved us, thank you.”
Vaera looked up at Ezet. “I’ve never seen you get angry before.”
“There is a saying back in Zymarra.” Ashamahn chuckled. “Do not wake the sleeping mountain, lest you make fire to rain from the sky.” He took a deep drink, eyeing the three giants.
“Their offense was great, and we returned it in kind.” Ezet replied with a shameful glance. “After all little sister, we’d hate for you to suffer so.”
“Little sister?”
Ashamahn pointed to the gift. “Being a slave race, oruelians have very little. That which they do own is highly cherished, especially gifts.”
“Because we own so little, often times we make gifts from the ore in our bodies.” Ezet smiled warmly at the girl. “To craft a gift from one’s own flesh is a sign of true love, little sister.”
“Then, for coming to our rescue, we have gifts for you as well.” Ada pulled Temour’s hand, leading him to the stairs. Despite his large size, Temour didn’t have the strength to pull away from her warm grip. Zesh gasped as a barmaid dragged him along as well, and Ezet followed Vaera. “I believe you’ll enjoy this.” Ada’s eyes sparkled as she smiled at him.