05-28-2009, 05:11 PM
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He couldn't believe it. He was a knight. An actual knight. Haven had always dreamed for it but had never let himself fully believe that it could actually happen. It seemed that the turns in his life came quickly. Everything had been fine and then his mothers had split apart and he had found out of the crimes of his father. Now only a little over a month later he was a knight. A protector for their small band. It was such an honor, and one that the youth did not take lightly. Already one of their members had been brutally attacked. He would do all he could to fulfill his duty and make sure it did not happen again. That's what had brought him here, to Blackmoor Castle. Jade eyes looked up at the tall dark building. Even though he had been much smaller the last time he had seen it it was no less magnificent now.
Haven ascended the steps and walked into the musky darkness of the castle. He stood in the entrance for a few moments, allowing his eyes to adjust to the low lighting. With a small smile he noticed the suit of armor on the opposite wall, the first thing he had run to in here as a pup. How long ago that now seemed. He decided to go down the left hallway to start his search. As he walked he found himself going down a spiral staircase. One burnt orange hand went to the wall to steady himself. The descent took longer than he had anticipated, but luckily for him, he had made the right choice in directions. The armory spread out before him, weapons and armor were on every wall and table. Dutifully he went around checking blades, looking for the one that would suit him best.
As the Aatte knight ascended the steps, a smile of satisfaction adorned his lips. Finding a blade that was not rusted and that he liked the weight of had taken a long while, but it had been worth it. The sword he had chosen, a longsword, lay in its scabbard across his back. In his satchel he had also collected some whetstones to help the blade keep it's edge. He had no doubt he would have to spend some time sharpening it when he returned home. As he walked back out of the castle and into the light his hand reached back to pull the blade from the sheath. It needed to be polished, but still it glinted in the sun. "What should I call you?" he mused to himself. Every good sword needed a name.
He couldn't believe it. He was a knight. An actual knight. Haven had always dreamed for it but had never let himself fully believe that it could actually happen. It seemed that the turns in his life came quickly. Everything had been fine and then his mothers had split apart and he had found out of the crimes of his father. Now only a little over a month later he was a knight. A protector for their small band. It was such an honor, and one that the youth did not take lightly. Already one of their members had been brutally attacked. He would do all he could to fulfill his duty and make sure it did not happen again. That's what had brought him here, to Blackmoor Castle. Jade eyes looked up at the tall dark building. Even though he had been much smaller the last time he had seen it it was no less magnificent now.
Haven ascended the steps and walked into the musky darkness of the castle. He stood in the entrance for a few moments, allowing his eyes to adjust to the low lighting. With a small smile he noticed the suit of armor on the opposite wall, the first thing he had run to in here as a pup. How long ago that now seemed. He decided to go down the left hallway to start his search. As he walked he found himself going down a spiral staircase. One burnt orange hand went to the wall to steady himself. The descent took longer than he had anticipated, but luckily for him, he had made the right choice in directions. The armory spread out before him, weapons and armor were on every wall and table. Dutifully he went around checking blades, looking for the one that would suit him best.
As the Aatte knight ascended the steps, a smile of satisfaction adorned his lips. Finding a blade that was not rusted and that he liked the weight of had taken a long while, but it had been worth it. The sword he had chosen, a longsword, lay in its scabbard across his back. In his satchel he had also collected some whetstones to help the blade keep it's edge. He had no doubt he would have to spend some time sharpening it when he returned home. As he walked back out of the castle and into the light his hand reached back to pull the blade from the sheath. It needed to be polished, but still it glinted in the sun. "What should I call you?" he mused to himself. Every good sword needed a name.