Wyatt Apr 29, 2009 17:00:00 GMT -6
Post by Wyatt on Apr 29, 2009 17:00:00 GMT -6
Hair Color: Red and wild.
Eye Color: Light Blue
Appearance: A tall and lanky boy, standing a little over 6 feet tall at such a young age. While not burly, has a good deal of muscle mass, especially on his arms. His appearance is scruffy, indicating him as from a family of laborers.
Clothes: Leather Vest for light protection against the elements and wild bests. Probably would even stop a good knife thrust. Padded cotton pants, made specifically to resist fire and stray sparks.
Born in: A small town three days south west of Ryerde, Lycia.
Story: What could possibly exist in this world for the son of a blacksmith? Wyatt the blacksmith apprentice lived an uneventful life for his first decade and a half, with nothing out of the norm for his quaint village. Every day he would rise with the sun, to collect the wood for the fire that would heat the forge. And every day he would assist his father in making the daily items people of the town needed. Tools, horseshoes, the basic necessities of life. He and his father manned the forge, while his mother and sister tended to the house and the meals. A simple, average life in the small town.
However, a man comes to this town one day, a soldier from the looks of him. On this day, as fate would have it, Wyatt's father had taken ill with a fever from working on the forge. The 'Forge Fever' as they called it, it was quite common in these summer months. But this traveler, he entered the smithy when Wyatt was there, and he needed work done.
He laid down on the table a cracked axe, of high quality of course, but damaged by the wear of battle. Wyatt knew what his request was before he even started speaking, and agreed to put his skills to the test on something more impressive then a new hoe.
For two days he labored over the smith, attempting to work out every crack, every imperfection, every slight fractured grain in the metal. He lost count of the amount of times he reforged the axe, until any signs of the crack had vanished seamlessly into the metal. When the soldier returned he marveled at the fact that any boy could do such fine work, and commended Wyatt for his skill. As he went to pay, Wyatt felt it un-needed, as much of a privilege as it was to work on such a weapon. The soldier, clearly impressed by the boy, introduced himself as a Knight in the service of Lycia by the name of Magnus. He offered Wyatt the chance for a job working as one of their smiths, traveling with some of their soldiers, keeping their weapons and armor in good repair. An adventurous life. As if to cement the offer he made to him, he passed him a smaller, weaker axe from his pack. He said if he should ever find himself in Lycia, to look for him at the castle, for he would surely hire the help of such a talented smith.
And so, the soldier left the village. When his father heard what had transpired he was worried. True a chance for his son to become a knight, to become recognized for his ability was wondrous, but sending a boy, not even a man yet, into the world sat poorly with him.
In the end they reached an agreement. Wyatt would wait until his 16th year, when he reached adulthood, and he would have to spend one week alone in the forest surrounding his village before his father would give his blessings and allow him to go.
The twigs crunched under Wyatt's feet as he stepped cautiously through the woods. This was day three, the days worth of food and water he had brought with him all gone already. He'd found a small pond earlier that day, but if he didn't find some food soon, he'd have to give it up or risk dying of starvation. He rested the axe on his shoulders and listened intently, trying to hear the sounds in the brush this twilight. Indeed, he did hear something, as he whirled around to see a snarling wolf behind him, teeth bared.
"Oh lovely." Wyatt muttered, taking a step back and gripping his axe in both hands. He'd been trainning. And while he hadn't fought a living opponent, he was pretty good at swinging the axe around. That and he wasn't a bad shot with it either. The wolf began to paw around him, circling him. For a while this continued as Wyatt grew confused, why wasn't it attacking.
"They never act like this with the animals in town, they always chase them down clawing at it's legs while one goes for the throat...wait..."
A snarl behind him interrupted his thoughts, but luckily he was already on his way up, as the second wolf dove under his legs, whipping around.
The turn was too late though, as Wyatt brought the axe down as he came down. His arms were strong from smithing, and the added power from his jump allowed the axe to rip almost completely through the wolf. The other wolf would not miss the chance, and charged at him with it's claws outstretched. A burning feeling in the side of his leg told him the wolf had struck home, and he fell to a knee with a grunt. Quickly, he violently pulled his axe from the wolf and spinned around, letting it arc through the air. And it struck true, ripping into the wolves side.
Wyatt let loose a sigh of relief, looking over the two fresh kills as he bandaged the small wound on his leg. Not a big deal, it would heal in a day or two. And it looked like he had plenty of food for that long.
He would eat well tonight, the first meal he had truly earned with his own hands.
To those too lazy to check the Email, this is Aerious' account.