Black Eyes To Blue

- 9 -

"Fucking took you long enough!" Mardston shouted, "I sent you out to bring us lunch two fuckin' hours ago! I can see the Inn! It's right there! It's a forty second walk to get there!"

"Sorry Sir! Sorry!" Spouted Conrad apologetically. "I got distracted!" As he moved aside a small pile of steel bars that were slated to be turned into horseshoes over the course of the next two hours. He placed down a basket filled with a collection of fruits and roasted meats that he brought for their midday meal.

"Look kid." Mardston started.

"Hey I had a—" Started Conrad, before Mardston cut him off again.

"Just shut up alright? Let me say my thing. I know you just got back from the Capital, and honestly you did a great job there. I'm proud of you. You sold the blade I made for you sell for more than twice what I expected. Then you not only hired just any healer, you brought the court fuckin' mage to come take a look at Soris for me. For free. I don't know how you pulled that miracle off, but I know I didn't say thank you directly because I suck at that sort of thing. But—"

Cutting him Conrad tried to say "Mardston will you just—"

Mardston's eyes darkened, and his tone changed dramatically as he continued to speak over the younger man, "I'm trying to give you a fucking lecture kid! Look! You did great! But now that you're back, you can't just go back to screwing around with your girlfriend when she's working the bar instead of getting shit done! Get shit done, then screw around! When I am gone, you're going to have to go back to running this place by yourself! It's a small fuckin' town, there's basically nothing to do. Your daily shit should take you only half a day, not a day and a fucking half to finish. You're fucking talented, but you have no skills! If you get those skills, your life will be so much better! I just want to help you, dickhead! Okay. Now I am done. Your turn."

"You're a fucking asshole you know that?" Conrad said flatly, crossing his arms tightly. A thick parchment envelope that Mardston didn't notice earlier sticking out of his hands.

"I have noticed that, yes." He replied with a slight smirk, the bluntness of the statement from his assistant always a refreshing change from the pandering he gets from the rest of the townsfolk. He really was starting to like the kid.

"Oh fuck off!" Conrad said back, his face lifting slightly in recognition of the minor apology Mardston offered, as the admittance of letting his temper get the better of him. "It took so long, because Marizia actually wasn't working today, so if we wanted lunch I had to make it myself. So that's what I did. I made it myself."

"Did you now?" Inquired Mardston, standing up and approaching the table with renewed interest in the basket.

"Yeah, I did! Since no one was watching me either, I also filled it with the good stuff! Plus a little extra for a snack later." Replied Conrad coolly.

"Oh heck yeah! Good Lad! Have I told you that you're one of my favorite persons?" Smiled Mardston, the acting Forgemaster.

"About half as often as you insult me!" The Apprentice snorted, before continuing on to say, "The other thing that I was doing was talking with the courier, you got yourself a reply to the letter you sent to your dad." With a flick of his wrist, he tossed over the thick envelope to the larger man.

"I haven't met any dwarves, they don't ever pass through here. From what I hear, and from what the courier said about meeting your parents, it definitely explains a lot about..." A sentence that was punctuated by Conrad giving a large sweeping gesture in Mardston's general direction.

Having stopped listening to his apprentice the moment he caught the letter. He had it torn open in moments. Its contents consisted of numerous sheets of parchment, appearing to be the equivalent of at least six feet long if you were to lay them all end to end. With three of them containing small handwriting in Dwarvish on both sides of the page. One of them obviously from his mother by the pleasant words and neat handwriting. The other two pages of writing clearly from his father, from the poor handwriting to the barrage of insults directed at his character. The other scraps though, that was exactly what he was hoping to see!

On the remaining pages were drawings done by his adopted father, one of the master smiths of Dun'Futah. Two months ago he wrote home to his family asking for advice on how to build new legs for his love. He got his reply, and it was far better than he could have hoped for. "Conrad! Look at this!" Folding up and putting the writings away to be read later, he kept the schematics out and shoved them in the younger man's face.

"You know what this is!?" Said Mardston excitedly.

His mouth full of turkey from the gigantic leg he was gnawing on, all Conrad could manage was a shake of the head.

"Oh, yeah, it's in Dwarvish... Well what it IS! Is the schematics for Soris's new legs! Complete schematics!" Said the gigantic man excitedly. "Written! Down!"

"...Cool?" Looking at his master's abnormal excitement with confusion, Conrad asked, "Why is that so exciting? You never get excited about anything. Ever. It's disconcerting."

"Ugh. I guess you wouldn't know would you. Look! Dwarven weapons and armor are the finest in the world. Undisputed. Eh? Quiet. Now's not the time! It's because the Dwarves fundamentally forge things differently, right? These are some heavy secrets. Theoretically if these secrets got out, the dwarves could lose their technological edge of the rest of the races. So they don't ever write them down. More wars have been fought over this shit then we will ever know about, and my dad wrote them down for me here!"

"With all due respect sir, it kind of sounds like your dad is an idiot." Said Conrad uncomfortably, bracing for the high likelihood of an outburst, people like Mardston don't generally take kindly to that kind of insult.

With a bit of a half frown, Mardston didn't react negatively, he just continued. "It's not my dad being an idiot, he knows that while Dwarven blood doesn't run through my veins, he knows that they are my people just as much as they are his, and I will defend this knowledge more fiercely than you know."

"Now that you say that, it just makes me want to steal it!" Joked the younger man, cracking a goofy smile in an attempt to lighten the mood.

"Then I would find you, torture you, kill everyone you spoke too, then drag you to my fathers doorstep for judgement." Mardston stated coldly, not a hint of humor, or sarcasm, just an edge of malice."

"Ugh. Huhh. Yes sir..."

"Good! Now you and I will start at dawn tomorrow morning! You will be taking the rest of the day off today. Go find Marizia and have yourself a good evening. I expect you to be here to assist me first thing, and with a clear mind. We are only going to be doing this twice, one for each leg. If you pay full attention and remember everything that I show you, you will become one of the greatest human weapons smiths in the world. After this is done, The schematics will be burned, so you will only have one chance to learn this. I highly recommend you pay attention. Now get outta here!" Commanded Forgemaster Mardston.

Watching the young man rigidly stand up at sarcastic military attention, complete with a sloppy knights salute, and complemented by the gigantic turkey leg wedged into his mouth. It was an objectively hilarious sight of disrespect.

Watching him turn skitter off in search of the barmaid he fancied, the ever so slightly older man couldn't help but smile and think, "He's a good kid, I like him. I like it here..."