Anvil
Legacy Name: Anvil

Torsten the blacksmith

In the city of Auberon, by the east gate's stables, there lived a man with his drake. A man that hailed down from the north. He was so tall and broad, the other citizens believed he was descended from giants. The Norseman settled down across the stables in the abandoned smithy. People rather ignored him at first. He looked so stern and unapproachable no one actually did. He had these bushy eyebrows that almost covered his eyes. The drake was rather a handful. Fiery guy without wings. When he got the chance, there was nothing he rather do than chase the neighbours' dogs and cats. The only clients in the smithy were travellers in need of a sword or knife and horseshoes for their horses.

One day, Torsten was slamming his hammer to a sword in the heat of his forge. When it was about right, the sword was dipped into a barrel of water, creating thick steam. "Good day" it sounded suddenly. A dark silhouette appeared in the hot water damp. The only thing that was distinguishable was a big flamboyant hat on a man with cape.

Torsten looked up from his work, as did the tiny dragon who was keeping the forge going. The Norseman got a rag and rubbed his face clean from coal, sweat and steam before approaching the noble man. "What can I do for you, sir?" He asked, his voice sounding like a rolling thunder.

The man took off his hat and looked Torsten in his eyes. After a brief moment he collected himself. "Oh uh... my horse. She lost a shoe and seems to limp. Can you take a look at her? I don't want to leave her in pain any longer".

Torsten looked back in the man's eyes. What a strange moment that was. He nodded and passed the man on his way out. "This one?" He asked, rubbing a dapple grey mare's nose. He touched her leg and lifted it. With his bare hand, he rubbed the dirt away from the sole. He took the pliers hanging from his leather apron and plucked some pebbles and two broken nails out of the hoof. "She'll be sore for a day or two. I'll put a new shoe on her after" the Norseman said while rubbing his beard.

"Thank you a lot, good sir. I'll expect you in two days at the inner court. Here. For your quick work" a velvet money purse emerged from the noble man's saddle bag. "You'll receive the other half then." The man smiled and took his mare by her reins. While Torsten couldn't believe the amount of shiny coins he received, the man turned his back back around. "You can ask for Volkwin von Drach." He mentioned and walked on, leaving Torsten baffled.

§

As promised, Torsten arrived two days later at the inner wall. The richer part of town. The guards at the gate squinted at him but let him through without trouble. Everything was so much nicer here. The streets were paved, the shops looked fancier, the bakery's bread wasn't moldy. With the smell of freshly baked goods, the dragons head popped out of Torsten satchel. It sniffed the air and tried to crawl out of the bag as he was pushed down again. "Not now, Magnus" Torsten mumbled.

After trying to get directions from people who kept ignoring or running away, the giant finally arrived at the inner court. There were beautiful horses stalled. Their skin was glossy unlike the shaggy beasts across the smithy. He noticed a familiar snout between all those priced animals. He approached the mare and rubbed her nose as he couldn't help to eavesdrop with a conversation nearby.

"I'm sorry, my lord. But I don't see why my horseshoes suddenly aren't sufficient enough anymore. I got the best ore there is. I've worked for your family for-" the old blacksmith got interrupted by the young von Drach.

"I know, Ruprecht. But I want to give this man a chance, like my father once did for you." Volkwin spoke. His voice sounded comforting as he patted the man's shoulder. The old grump shrugged and nodded before he got back to his forge.

The noble man walked up to his horse, finding her accompanied by an even grumpier looking blacksmith. Before he could say anything, Magnus the drake escaped the satchel, scaring the horse and almost got trampled before he sought refuge behind a pair of new leather boots. He looked almost as grumpy as its owner and hissed at the frightened mare. Torsten managed to calm her down while Magnus got picked up by a soft hand. "A drake." Volkwin said surprised and stroked its spine. "There aren't a lot here anymore. Only in the north" He mentioned.

A smile appeared behind the beard. Not that it was very visible but the bushy eyebrows and moustache lifted, making Torsten look a lot softer. Or maybe a lot less harsh. "That's where I am from. I come from the kingdom or Norway. My family owned drakes ever since. A cousin even breeds them." The Norseman stood proudly as Magnus jumped and latched onto his thick muscular arm. "Shall I begin?"

Moments later, the dappled mare got her new shoes on and a new velvet moneybag appeared from behind the noble man's back. "My lord. You already paid me enough. They are only a pair of horseshoes..." Torsten said as he declined the little bag.

"I heard Norsemen were greedy. But you're quite the opposite" Volkwin laughed.

There was a moment of silence before Torsten's frown turned upside down and a laugh like a rolling thunder sounded. "Let's say I'm rather a thirsty Norseman" he said, mimicking holding a drink.

The pair laughed. Volkwin held his hand over his warmed heart. "Let's get you a keg of ale then!"

Lea