The Realm of Eärwa
In West Port’s main Blacksmith Shop- Noble’s Prick Blacksmith Shop
Zahara never did know her parents. All she really knew was-
“Get to work!” Yelled the fat slave supervisor while cracking a whip behind the young girl. Zahara flinched as she suddenly worked faster, frustrated. The supervisor sweared as he went in front of the counter. She stuck the metal back into the forge.
“I wish I wouldn’t have to be here.” Zahara thought. She continued to work and was thinking what it would be like being somewhere else but a blacksmith shop. She looked into the firepit of the blacksmith shop. She thought of how freely the flames moved as they licked the edges of the pit, and the young girl observed how the older coals would eventually burn out and be useless. She concluded that she and everyone would eventually live their life the same way as the coals. Or they could fight for their freedom and actually live only under the control of themselves. But everyone would eventually die as their fate has been set. She had to get out of there! But she couldn’t do it by herself and she would have to plan her escape first. Then she came back to the thought of the flames. How efortlessly they moved! The crisp color of the flames gave a more unique and special glow to the shop. Zay’s curious thinking was cut short….
…She suddenly felt like someone was watching her. After a few moments, she turned around and saw a figure in a black cloak. Zahara gasped and quickly turned backed to the forge and started to work faster.
Half an hour past of Zahara feeling under pressure with this…weird… stalking figure maticulously watching her. The figure slowly walked away, bringing Zay’s stress along with…it. She had to be careful of calling genders because she has heard stories from the local storytellers speaking of dragons, monks, witches, fighters, rogues…
She saw the figure go over to the fat slave supervisor. After watching them for a minute, the two started to argue. The figure was able to keep his face hidden in the shadows, and that sparked her curiosity on how she could escape slavery… but how would she-how could she do it? She can barely make a bow! The figure in the black cloak raised his voice a little and Zahara could barely makeout the arguement.
“Just tell me! How much do you want?”
“I already told you! No sale!” The halfling could expect they were talking about her. Zay didn’t care about danger anymore as she wanted to go with the creature. She just wanted to leave, and find her family.
“He wants money!” She thought. “Give him more money so I can leave this place with you!”
The two got quiet. As if the figure read her mind, it showed the supervisor another brownish-red leather bag. The supervisor finally gave in, looking surprised, taking the bag. The supervisor was walking towards the forge, and Zahara turned back quickly trying to act normal, scared and excited at the same time. The supervisor made an enormous entrance, slamming the front counter.
“Guis wat Chumpes? You arrrr ouwa here.” Zahara turned around acting frightened.
“It’s alrrright. This guy rrright herrre will luk aftah ya.” Zahara slowly walked to the open counter.
“Come on you filthy giarl!” Zahara hurried her pace.
Zahara went around the front counter and met eyes with the figure. The figure took his hood off, and from what Zahara could tell, it was human, and a man. The man took a step closer and knelt in front of the girl.
“It is alright little girl. No need to be afraid.” Said the man. "What is your name?
“Zahara” answered the girl.
"Zahara, out of every slave I saw, do you know why I chose you? " Zahara did not move. " You are not a slave anymore, but I will need to train you so you can survive. Enough talking before you answer." Zahara shook her head. “I chose you because you have a spark in your heart.”
The man smiled at her for a moment, giving her some hope.
“Alright then, lets get to work.” And then the man and the girl were off, a little out of West Port.
"My name is Willeom. " Said the man. " It is actually Atgur." Whispered the man just a bit further away out of the town. Zahara looked up at the guy confused. “Ooohhh! Do I have a lot to teach you!”
“Shut up, Coinan!” said the girl, the male dwarf sitting there, surprised Zay actually spoke. Zahara was trying to use her fresh skills from the night before to steal some apples from Walden’s Fruit Orchard.
“I just thought that-”
“Coinan! If you do not be quiet, we will not get apples and we will be thrown in jail!”
Zahara picked a few apples and put them in the front of her shirt. The halfling and the dwarf headed for the back entrance no one ever used.
Once the two friends were out of the orchard, they both ducked behind a bush and started eating. The two naive children started argueing, with nothing being accomplished from the two talking over each other.
“I hope you are going to pay for those.” The two children looked up, shocked and behind them to see what looked like a child, but talked like a man. But this child had a… beard. Zahara saw the stranger to have graying hair and a braided beard.
“Do not worry child. We will pay your parents,” Said Coinan.
The stranger gave a little chuckle and looked over at Coinan saying, “I was actually headed to them right now. Would you care to join me?” The two friends looked at each other with wide eyes.
“Suuuurrrre.” said Coinan. The three headed to the North. Around the corner of a tree was two headstones. The two quietly left the stranger but did not get far before the stranger started to run to catch up to the two. “Wait! What are your names?”
“Very cool names. My name is E’mryk.” The three introduced themselves as they walked back to the headstones. “Hey Coinan. I think you would fit in with a group I read about. The leader is Drokki..”
“It’s alright Zahara. I’ll be back.” Coinan said as he pulled the girl in for a hug. Coinan then let go and headed for the forest in hope to find his childhood dream of becoming a Provincial Ranger.
“Again. Dance with the flames this time.” Willeom kept telling Zay. Sweat was slinging from her brow as she was twisting and turning with her daggers and then her fists, trying to copy the flames movements. “Keep going. Don’t give up. You’re almost done training for today.”
“Move with the flames. Cantórn èinst dube’ndt. Cantórn èinst dube’ndt,” seemed to be the only things in Willeoms vocabulary.
Zay had completed her training.
“Zay, every night I have trained with you, and not only have I taught you how to survive, but you have also taught me something.” Willeom pulled out a dagger with a ruby on the hilt and had a dragon head with diamond eyes as the pommel. On the handle with the ruby it had vines engraved and some were popping out. “I found this at the market of Walden. I think you deserve this. Out of every person I trained, you have showed the most greatest growth in strength and wisdom out of them all. You have deserved your freedom from the day I met you,
and now you have it. You are perfectly free and must depart tonight. Use this to protect you and use your knowledge because sometimes, the smartest can slay the strongest. Math’ingar tuip tnars” (“Until we meet again” in Thieves Cant). Willeom handed Zay the dagger and backed into the shadows. Zay sat there with the dagger in her hand for a few moments. Zay fingered the dagger getting familiar with the weapon. It was time to survive…and Zay did just that.