The Emerging Part I: Dream

The Pentad filters into the blacksmith’s squat building where they see a few Rniti scattered about working hard, hammering molten metal, adding coals to the already stifling inferno of the forge, and sharpening and painting blades of all shapes and sizes.

A middle-aged Jayyojjek walks in from the back of the building, her strong arms loaded with metals of all kinds. She drops the raw material on a work bench where she then turns to look directly at the Pentad.

The Jayyojjek’s warm smile emits from the dimly lit forge and she walks over to the Pentad.

“Ah, you must be the Pentad I have been hearing so much about,” the Jayyojjek says. “And seeing as you are here, I take it that the Daijoks have instructed you here to learn of our weapon classes?”

The Pentad nods and Hawk asks, “Who are you?”

The Jayyojjek laughs heartily, “Shall we take this conversation outside?” she asks gesturing towards a side door.

The Pentad nods as the Jayyojjek leads them to a rest area with stone chairs overlooking a small hill that leads directly to the south end of the Lake. The view allows for the brief forests of the Injhihato to be viewed in nearly all of their entirety. The breeze blowing coolly from the first bite of winter, but after the heat of the forge, all the more welcoming.

The Jayyojjek sits in a chair that appears to have been designed for her, until the Pentad realizes the Jayyojjek manipulates the stone itself to fit her body. They marvel at the tiniest amount of zoltind okit ability.

“You’re an okit, able to manipulate the earth?” Pork asks interested.

The Jayyojjek laughs heartily again, “Oh yes. And from my cursory inspection, I say there are a few okits within your ranks,” the Jayyojjek laughs again, her joyousness allowing the frightened feelings of the Pentad to be eroded away.

The Pentad sits in chairs that overlook the Lake, but in another second and wave of the Jayyojjek’s hand, they face the Jayyojjek.

“I am Makayla,” the Jayyojjek states, “and I am the Master Blacksmith of the Rniti. Any weapon you can imagine, I have either created or attempted to create. I have made weapons for nearly all of the Rniti here, and all of the most renowned heroes of Munda Luna.

“With that being said, I feel that I am not being modest when I say I know everything there is to know about forging a weapon,” Makayla laughs heartily, her boisterous laughter coercing smiles and chuckles from the children.

“Now, for your instruction,” Makayla starts. “You all will learn of the sword and shield first, all of us Rniti do, for the sword is a symbol of the Rniti, and the art with which we wield our swords is incomparable to any other faction, we are the best,” Makayla chuckles.

“Our blade is double-edged and cut to form a triangular tip at the end of the blade, much as this,” Makayla says drawing her finely honed silver blade from her left hip. The silver dazzles the Pentad, the carvings of a hammer and anvil in the silver blade awing the children.

“Our guard is of the purest circular design, our handle a mere extension of the blade folded on itself so as to achieve perfect balance, and the pommel a cap that fits perfectly over the enfolded handle in a perfect sphere,” Makayla shows each section of the blade with a proud expression upon her face.

“Now, the sword is a relatively easy weapon to learn, compared to that of the great war hammer which requires great strength to wield or risk falling over in battle, or that of the rapier, a thin blade, which requires great skill or risk losing a duel before you even have started because your defense is greatly lacking,” Makayla explains while sheathing her fine blade.

“Now, I assume there are some questions you have, I really only have time to discuss with you the sword, but if you are interested in any others, you can ask now, and, if you ever see I have a free moment, can ask me then,” Makayla states, her eyebrow raised in a questioning expression.

“Umm, I always thought the war axe was interesting,” Hawk says.

Makayla smiles, “Ah, the war axe! A most beautiful weapon, I nearly chose the axe as my chosen weapon myself, er, what is your name young man?”

“Hawk,” Hawk answers.

Makayla gazes at Hawk as if inspecting him, “Hawk, I would say you have the makings of a fine axeman, in fact, the war axe is only used by a third of the Rniti, and often as just a secondary weapon behind the sword. Now, the axe is a simple weapon based on a fulcrum. The axe head is the load, the shaft is the lever, and your elbow and wrist are the fulcrum. When you swing, the axe head flies forward, the lever maintains direction and speed, and the fulcrum retains aim and control. Ah, I should have chosen the axe as my specialization weapon, oh well,” Makayla says with a chuckle.

“Any other interests?” Makayla asks.

“I always thought the war hammer was an awesome weapon,” Desert says with just a hint of condescension.

Makayla smiles in such a way that disarms all of Desert’s defenses, and says, “Yes, the war hammer is an awesome weapon. Only a seventh of all Rniti use it, and they use it as a primary weapon, completely forgoing the sword. Now, the hammer, as I stated previously, requires great strength or else you risk being tipped over in battle and losing your balance. However, many okits use this weapon for they have a connection to the earth and can always retain their balance in nearly all situations, including an earthquake. I myself chose this weapon to specialize, and may I say, one of the best decisions of my life. But as an aging blacksmith, I feel myself only using the hammer as a tool for creation rather than a tool for war,” Makayla shrugs. “Er, what was your name?”

“Desert.”

“Excellent name. Desert, I believe you have the beginning build to wield a powerful hammer,” Makayla smiles again and turns to Fox who has his hand raised. She nods towards him.

“What do you think of holding the sword... er, differently?” Fox asks.

Makayla cocks her head to the side in confusion, “Elaborate, son.”

Fox answers, “I saw some Rniti holding their weapons with the pommel forward and their blade behind them.”

Makayla’s eyes widen in comprehension, “Oh, you mean reverse grip versus normal grip of the sword! Ah, very well then. What is your name?”

“Fox.”

“Ah, Fox, if you are interested in reverse wielding, you should consider the short sword. The short sword is exactly like our Rniti long sword, only it is about a foot shorter, a sturdier handle, and slightly thinner. Reverse wielding a sword takes great skill, but the benefits are delightful for those that reside in shadows or prefer to wait for the opportune moment to strike.”

Fox nods, the appeal of reverse wielding apparent on his face. Makayla sees Santhemum’s face lighting up at the mentioning of reverse wielding and asks, “And you, young lady, want to reverse wield as well?”

Santhemum only nods.

“What is your name?” Makayla asks.

“Santhemum,” Santhemum’s silky voice barely squeaks out. Makayla raises an eyebrow in confusion, but shrugs as Pork’s voice echoes to her right.

“The Bo staff can’t be that hard to learn, can it?” Pork asks.

Makayla chuckles, “Every weapon can be hard to learn, and every weapon can be easy to learn, but in my opinion, the Bo staff is one of the more difficult weapons to learn for you always have to be leery of the back end of the staff as the staff has two ends that move in a mirror of one another. You can never forget this or else risk hitting yourself more often than your opponent. Er, what is your name?”

“Boar,” Pork says.

“Boar?” Makayla says with a hint of knowing. “Are you from Karacrross?”

Pork’s eyes widen in shock, “Yes.”

“Is your father a soldier?”

Pork appears uneasy, “Yes.”

“Ah, I once knew a soldier during my time in Karacrross, a most wonderful man that always had a boar medallion on his neck,” Makayla says her gaze unfocused. “Ah, nevertheless, I must get back to my work. Good day Pentad,” Makayla says rising from the chair, turning the Pentad’s chairs back to overlook the Lake and disappearing into her forge.

The Pentad enjoys the view until the sun dips low in the sky and heads for the central complex of the Injhihato, their thoughts swirling with the possibilities of the different weapons classes.

Uxxok stares at the seamless door that separates him from possible answers and a solution to the many gruesome murders to mere innocent scholars.

He racks his brain to remember exactly what he uncovered from his the man’s aura he forced himself into. He knocks on the center of the door, hears a hollow sound, and then knocks on the wall next to the door, hears a solid thud.

He repeats the process two more times with hushed knocks until the door suddenly opens. Uxxok sees dim light welcoming him as he steps over the threshold. The wind from the night air is shut out immediately as a giant man shuts the door with such force, the door frame whines in protest.

Uxxok looks the giant man over once and grimaces in his mind. He winces when he turns and looks at the room before him and sees nothing but dark auras and honed fighters.

He walks through the dim room as he navigates through the stolen man’s memories. He sees in his mind a door upstairs where the memories end. He begins to ascend the only flight of stairs in the room and hopes no one can feel his slight fear and hesitation.

He arrives at the top of the stairs and finds a hallway of doorways greeting him. He walks strongly to the fourth door to the left and enters without any idea of what exactly will be on the other side of the portal.

As soon as his eyes adjust to the even dimmer room, he sees nothing but a few overturned tables and chairs. His always ready anger storms through his aura and he nearly yells at the top of his lungs.

But something catches his eye. He looks at the wall in front of him and notices a slight discoloration. He walks to the wall and realizes the wall is yet another seamless door.

Navigating through the stolen memories, he tries his hardest to see if there is any secret knock or hidden way to enter this seamless portal. All he finds is the door he already entered, the room he already walked through, and the stairs he has already seen.

Suddenly, he feels a presence behind him. He turns quickly and finds a dark figure in the door frame. He reaches for his sword but sees an orb of energy emitting from the dark figure’s arm.

Uxxok curses just as the energy is shot at him and he sees a fire ball careening towards his head. He wields his sword just in time to deflect the fire ball, but is not able to react quickly enough to the flame wave that is erupted at him next.

He uses his sword as protection as the wave is powerful enough to slam him through the seamless door and he finds himself in the hidden room he knew was lurking beyond.

He looks up and sees the dark figure has drawn a blade as well and attacks him. Uxxok tries to remember all that he can of the hidden room as he begins to duel with the unknown assailant.

Uxxok blocks an incoming slash and moves quickly to parry another blade seemingly drawn from nowhere. He blocks a slash from the left blade and parries an attack from the right blade. Just as he begins to think a pattern will develop, his attacker changes styles and uses just the right blade to attack him. Uxxok knows he has an advantage in a single blade battle, but always he thinks of the now hidden left blade. Just as he is becoming comfortable with the new style of one blade swordsmanship, the attacker utilizes the left blade again and uses the blades in a pair, where one blade goes, the other is soon to follow. Uxxok’s head is reeling from the possibilities and soon, his age betrays him as exhaustion tries to set into his muscles and bones. He knows he must either end the duel quickly or escape before he is killed.

He attempts an underhanded trick and tries to assault the, what he believes, untrained mind of his attacker, but finds a solid wall waiting for him. He is baffled by the trained mind of the assailant and knows he must escape. Summoning energy he did not realize he still had, he turns on the offensive and attacks with blindingly fast speed. His attacker, caught completely unaware by the sudden burst of speed, is soon backed into a corner.

Uxxok finishes the duel by feinting a powerful stroke to the exposed attacker’s belly and then disappears, leaving the attacker’s blades forming a defensive cross over its belly.

Uxxok pants as he leans on his sword he planted into the floor boards. He hears Teqqc startle and rush to him. Uxxok waves her away as he collapses. Teqqc’s worried face is the last thing he sees before blackness overtakes him.