A Name (working Title)

Untitled Part 1

John

The room smelled like perfume and whores. Although John's room was not used for the dirty business it stank of a brothel. John was a bastard not of any of the whores mind you. They adopted him naming him John no surname. He has short brown hair, and a trace of a beard. He was not a towering figure but by no means short. His figure, athletic ,but small. The boy had nothing to his name but a dull sword that was found along with him. It had etchings and symbols that were incomprehensible. John knew there was a meaning behind them. He longed to figure it out. Today he was six and ten years, a man. Today was the day he was to set out to make his own name. He had his sword, 300 coins he had saved, and a lame horse he was gifted. The plan was to set out after John broke his fast. He put on a rusted chain mail shirt under his usual tunic. His boots were new and shiny a Lord had left them at the brothel. John's meal was nothing but bread and water; as was customary for the poor. John only said bye to Lucille, she had been the one to raise him. Lucille told John to be careful and then kissed him on the cheek. The first stop was the blacksmith to sharpen the blade John cares so much about. The smith was named Landen, a burly man with a heavy accent.
"Finally selling that blade," he asked when John approached.
"Not if you can make it sharp enough to make it cut a man," John replied.
"Why do'ya need it sharpened lad."
"I've set to forge my own name."
The man looked at him sternly, eventually sharpening the sword for ten coins.
"If ye make make your own name boy I'll recast that sword to display it proud," Landen said.
It was a deal.
John spent two-hundred coins to buy provisions leaving him with ninety; hardly enough to build an army. Luckily he didn't quite need one.
He pointed lily, his horse to the nearest town, and set off.