By Special Request.

[kaioon]

(( Okay. I'l start something off here. Anyone can jump in. ))

Whoosh

A heavy orcish axe cut through the tranquil city air of Stormwind.

Thrust

Again the axe struck forward, recoiling again for another blow.

Thwack

The great warsong blade struck the practice dummy, removing its head. Sending the crude wooden block clattering across the quiet yard in a shower of splinters. The warbling of city birds quieted. The moment passed and tranquility returned to the small grassy back lot behind the Blessed Steel Blacksmith shop.

Kaioon rested the massive orcish axe on her shoulder. Beads of sweat glistened on her dark purple skin which seemed nearly black in the failing light of dusk. Sweat soaked the soft brown riding leathers she wore. The evening routine of martial practice always proceeded her meditation and prayer. It was a routine the warrior followed religiously. With a steady hand, she placed the massive axe against the fence. It leaned against the unpainted wooden pickets, which creaked and groaned loudly in protest.

Kneeling upon a straw mat, she adjusted the delicate tendrils that trailed from her pointed ears. Gently brushing the odd appendages over her shoulders before folding her hands in her lap. She closed her luminous blue eyes and entered a state of focus. Her mind closed to the waking world, forcing out the sounds of the birds, the gentle murmur of the bustling city that awaited her just beyond the small stonework wall across the yard. The cathedral’s great bell chimed, indicating the seven o’clock hour. The draenei smiled gently and breathed deeply.

“Kaioon!” Her name was called out into the city air, accompanied by the steady groan of the old wooden door that lead to the Blessed Steel Blacksmith Shop. Her eyes rolled behind closed eyelids as she was forcefully ripped from her meditative state.

“We’ve got a customer!” The human voice said, the moment he saw movement from the kneeling Draenei. The figure retreated back behind the door as it’s rusted spring hinge closed with a slam. Rising to her hooves, she reached behind her and gripped the axe from its resting place against the fence. Slinging it across her shoulder she slowly made her way across the grassy yard towards the Blacksmith shop.

((We'll see where we can go from there. Anyone feel free to hop on! ;D))

[kaez]

"She'll be here any moment, sir," spoke a fair-haired man in scratched and beaten plate armor. He opened the door to the back of the shop, swallowing hard as he did so. On the other side, hidden from the customer, he spoke to another man.

"Strange fellow, no?" The other man was hammering a red-hot short sword on a monstrous anvil. He wiped his sweaty hair with his sleeve, leaving a charcoal black streak across his forehead. "Aye," he coughed, placing the blade back into the ashes.

Just then, Kaioon rushed through the back door with a slam, following behind her the panting man who alerted her at the training grounds. He leaned over, hands on his knees, catching his breath. Kaioon stood utterly unaffected, her smooth complexion without any perspiration whatsoever. A look of question and misunderstanding arose on her face. "We have some, significant customer?"

The fair-haired shopkeep wet his lips, looking to Kaioon unsure of his own knowledge. "He says", he paused, remembering the stranger's words. "He told us he needs a very special weapon... He told us that cost is not an issue."

[kaioon]

“A special weapon?” Kaioon repeated, her light Draenei accent fragmenting her common ever so slightly. Leaving the quiet of the outdoors, she entered the hellish environment of the Blacksmith's Back room. Forges belched heat and molten metal. Hammers clashed with anvils. The room was thick with hiss and sizzle of hot steel as threw showers of sparks across the floor.

She brushed back her tendrils with one hand as she rested her massive axe neatly in its place on the weapon rack. Moving the large weapon was an awkward task in so confined an area. Indeed, even the modest sized floor-room of the Blacksmith shop felt cramped to the Draenei. Her long strait horns often scraped the ceiling when she was not mindful.

With a sigh she reached for her thick led and leather smithing apron, which lay draped over the back of a chair. Tying the heavy garment around her waist, she pushed her way through the double doors that lead from the back room to behind the small worn-wood counter of the floor room.

It has not been uncommon, in her months living in Stormwind City, that adventurers have come seeking her skill with Smithing. Particularly with the rending and crafting of armor and items from rare Draenorian ores, minerals and metals. Knowledge of working materials native to Draenor, has proven rare on this side of the Dark Portal. Leaving Kaioon’s skills in somewhat of a high demand.

She fiddled nimbly with the apron ties behind her back as she stepped up to the counter and addressed the figure on the other side.

“You are looking for a weapon, Yes?”

[kaez]

The cloaked figure that stood in front of her was disguised completely. With a sudden jolt, eyes were visible through the dark of the hood.

"Ah... you must be Blacksmith Kaioon?" The figure smiled wickedly, it's teeth glowing with white from the dark of the cloak. "I do hope whatever you were off doing was worth my patience. They speak your name all over Azeroth, you know?" The figure's voice became increasingly louder as he spoke. "You best not disappoint, Draenei."

Kaioon growled lightly as the figure paused, glancing around him, knowing fully that there was no one. "As I was saying, yes, I am prepared to offer you the job of a lifetime. You must simply practice your craft," the silhouette paused, leaning forward. "And you shall be payed greatly. To add, one day, you may be renowned as "The blacksmith who forged -the- weapon."

[kaioon]

Kaioon wrinkled her nose as she looked down on the cloaked figure. He had a familiar smell on him that she could recognize over the odors of the blacksmiths workshop, yet could not place. She has an instant dislike of him.

"And you shall be payed greatly. To add, one day, you may be renowned as "The blacksmith who forged -the- weapon." The mysterious figure finished.

Kaioon stood impassively and looked down at him.

"I no longer forge weapons. I've no like of them." She shrugged her shoulders gently "I specialize in armor now." Kaioon thrust an elegant finger towards the wall behind the cloaked figure. Many elaborate plate-mail cuirasses hung, the lamp light catching the intricate metal-work and gems inlayed into them. "There you can see a selection of available styles." She turned her back to the customer. Waving her parting words with a dismissive hand.

As she pushed open the door to the back room, her gaze caught that of the shop-keeper. Their eyes met. The poor man had a look of desperation about him as he saw another expensive commission escaping his grasp. He had been kind enough to offer her work when others would not. She could not simply dismiss a large commission. Not without first hearing the offer.

She sighed a soft swear in Draeneish as she turned to face the customer once again.

"Very well. What did you have in mind?"

[kaioon]

(( You're taking a few too many liberties with my character kaez. No godmodding please.))

[kaez]

Apologies. That's the advantage of having sign ups =/

Either wait up or take the next part yourself. Your call. I have no idea where I'd like to take the weapon concept yet anyway, so if you have a thought... go for it.

[shatterlune]

((i'm a gnomish warrior named Monette))

Monette tugged her battered cuirass along the muddy cobbles behind her, cursing loudly in Common. She'd accepted the offer of a duel from a pesky, proud human paladin. Certain her small size and quickness would win her the challenge, she had rushed headlong into the engagement. The paladin's strange, glowing hammer had bruised her and broken her armor. Then, he had run off without so much as offering her a heal. She'd have to get the breastplate mended by an expert, or pay from her dwindling purse for a shoddy new piece of armor.

The gnome entered a smith's shop, preparing to haggle. She saw a cloaked figure and a soot-stained draenei - obviously the smith - talking in low voices.

[destron]

((I've never actually done one of these before, so I'm going to keep it relatively simple.))

As cats go, nothing about Flyff was particularly remarkable. An older feline, he'd gotten his fair share of scars fighting in the nighttime alleys of Stormwind City. But that was something he'd left behind in youth. After being adopted by the owners of the Blessed Steel Blacksmith Shop, Flyff was content to live a simple life of milk saucers and long afternoon naps.

Flyff usually lurked in the living quarters above the shop, finding the noise and smoke of the ground floor disagreeable. Yet he was feeling restless that day, and crept on padded feet to the place where strangers came and went, taking the metal skins of his master in exchange for heavy jingling bags.

Flyff's yellow eyes instantly fixed on the cloaked figure conversing with the hoofed employee. Flyff's small cat brain, based on instinct and intuition, decided that something was amiss. From his position on the staircase he yowled and hissed at the customer. The cloaked human had to leave, of this much Flyff was certain.

[shatterlune]

((Ya'll still running with this?))

[kaioon]

(( I wouldn't mind. But we can strike the posts by the first replier? He hasn't been around since the first day.

Being god-modded really soured me to this thread.))

[shatterlune]

((i S'pose.. Monette will just go with the flow ))

[Firstt]

This thread is now considered dead, any further poster will be given a warning, before being given a temp ban.