Fury of the Storm

The day had been long and hot. Tyrrian had returned to the shattered lair of the Enchanter. Searching through the rubble he was able to collect quite a bit of the rare lavalite. Back in town he asked Cretin if he could have private use the forge. The young man was beginning to suspect that Cretin was either of pure Tharbrian blood, or the ugliest dwarf ever born.

The town metal worker agreed to let him have access to the forge after quizzing him on smithing techniques. Satisfied the young man would not burn the place down he bid him return the next day after his current works were completed. Thanking him, the lad went back to his room at the boarding house and collapsed in bed.

“Tyrrian, Tyrrian wake up.”

“Come on lazy bones, don’t get Father upset.”

Two distinct voices roused the young warrior from slumber. “Keary? Alban?” Sitting up and rubbing his eyes Tyrrian looks up and sees two figures in the doorway of the Forge.

“Come on little brother, he’s getting impatient!” Keary turns and steps inside the forge. Alban comes over and helps Tyrrian out of bed.

“Keary and I are happy to see you have done so well. Father is most proud of all, don’t let him know I told you though.”  Walking together towards the smithy Alban continues. “Who would have guessed you were chosen by Sashu. You should know your actions have helped us and others from the village find peace. But Father has advice for you, and you need to heed him.”

“All right, but I wish you were all still here with me.” The young man stops and embraces his brother.

“We are always with you, never forget that. Even in the darkest of places we will be.” Alban then leads Tyrrian into the forge. Opposite the anvil sits his father, and just behind him in shadow a hooded figure watches.

Motioning for Tyrrian to come sit by him at the forge, the elder smith speaks. “You rose to the occasion my son. Protected the weak and infirm and stood against things we could never have imagined. You used your brother’s weapons to avenge our deaths and the villages’ destruction. But now you need to focus your feelings. Sashu has brought us together here to aid you now.” The older man motions to the hooded figure behind him. Gnarled hands reach up and lower the cowl revealing an ancient white-haired blind man. The room becomes bathed in a white light as the outline of a hammer appeares in the air.

“Look upon this and let it burn itself into your memory. Go to Cretins forge tomorrow and use all the grief and rage you have held inside. Turn that fury into the strength you need to take the next step along the path you have chosen my son.”  His father holds his shoulders as the young man gazes into the light of Sashu.

NEXT DAY

Tarek entered the shared room to find Tyrrian carefully looking over his tools and an assortment of items the boy had collected over the past weeks.

“What are you doing with all this?” the thief asked.

“I dreamed again last night.”

“Of Tom?” Tarek asks.

Looking over pieces of lavalite, the boy turns to Tarek. “No, my brothers and my father. I have everything I need now. My path is clear.”

“Your path is, wait, what’re you talking about. I thought we were going to try to get the others to go with us and Marcus to the City State. Are you saying that isn’t happening now?” Tarek sits on the foot of the bed watching Tyrrian put things in a bag. “Are you leaving, what about the Plaza of Profuse Pleasure?”

Standing and slinging the heavily laden bag over his shoulder Tyrrian grips his friends shoulder and looks him in the eye. “No, I’m just saying I have a task to complete before we move on. I will be in Cretin’s forge working. Whatever happens keep the others away until I’m done. You are my oldest and best friend Tarek. Can I count on you to do this for me?”

Of course, I just thought now that Ulla and Pia were feeling better you might want to, you know console them with me.” A wolfish grin spreads across his face.

“Thank you but no, I know your just being nice. I think that bottle you got from Marcus and both girls will be quite the foray for you alone.” The young man turns to leave.

“What about the Town hall this evening, we’re all supposed to meet afterwards. This is our chance to talk up our plan!” Tarek follows the boy out into the blustery day.

Wind blowing Tyrrian turns to Tarek, “I stand with you on anything that comes up with the party.”

Watching as Tyrrian walks off towards the Metal-workers shed, Tarek can’t help but notice the wall of dark clouds moving in from the sea.

LATER THAT NIGHT

Strong winds rattle the shutters of the White horse. Tarek sits in a booth alone pondering the conversation from earlier in the evening. A few of the other Heroes occupy the common room as well, finishing drinks and meals.

The sound of hammer on anvil rings through howling winds. It seems as if the thunder comes on que with each blow of the blacksmiths tools.

“Strange that it rains so heavily yet I sweat like a pig on a spit.” Beavis says as he reaches to refill the empty cup in front of Tarek.

CRACK-A-BOOM! The entire Tavern shudders, and everyone inside jumps as a bolt of lightning strikes matching the tempo of the hammer strikes.

“It’s Tyrrian Beavis, he works under the influence of the Gods themselves. No matter what happens tonight, we are not to disturb him.”  The fresh cup is quickly drained. “Everything that has happened to him, to us all, has been more than good or bad luck. Tom’s death, the Basilisks, even the scarlet tigers.”

Refilling the empty cup Beavis sits with Tarek, as Calis and the others turn to listen. “I’m not sure I follow you.” The friar mops his forehead with a rag.

“I found him looking over an assortment of items this afternoon. I didn’t put it together until now. Tyrrian wasn’t meant to just be a Blacksmith’s son. Just as I now believe that we all are destined to be more than just farmers, woodsmen and common folk.”

The group collectively shudders as another bolt of lightning strikes just outside in time with the anvil blows.

“I would normally have just put this down to fate. But there is more going on here than I think I’m quite ready to accept just yet.”

Drinking a full cup in one gulp, Beavis looks directly at Tarek. “The Gods have taken notice my boy. It has been a long, long time since the world saw true Heroes. Some would tell you that age is behind us, but I beg to differ. When evil seems to permeate every nook and cranny, when all hope seems on the verge of extinction. It is then, that the average man steps up and says no more. It has happened before, it can happen again.”

Clang, Crack-a-boom!

CLANG, CRACK-A-BOOM!