Grynn
set Rip and Snort loose to the woods each day, with instructions for them to
return with any game they might find by noon. They faithfully returned each day
with enough food for themselves, Grynn and Skaxis. While Skaxis insisted such
tribute wasn’t necessary, he always accepted it.
Two
years passed, and Grynn became an expert of the forge. Finally one of his
blades was priced higher than anything Njoktus could craft, and Skaxis declared
training complete. Now for the final exam, Grynn would have to select and heat
and shape the metal himself. Skaxis whispered the secrets of folding the blade,
and how to quench the back of the blade slower to create the curve. After
sharpening and polishing the blade, it was ready to be fit with a grip. Grynn
chose a dark red lacquer to paint the sheaths with, and tied each with a pair
of the fangs Rip and Snort frequently lost.
True
to his word, Skaxis had found Grynn a swordsman who had mastered the twin
swords. Unknown to Grynn, Skaxis had already paid, as the quality of Grynn’s
work had amassed him a small fortune. With a tear in his eye, old Skaxis gave
Grynn a bear hug until he finally had to tap out. “I’ll miss you lad, you’ve
got the stuff of greatness in you, and even though you’re not a dwarf, you’ve
been like a son to me. I hope to find another pupil with half the potential you
have someday. And I’ll miss the fresh meat! Take good care of my boy, Rip,
Snort.” On hearing their names, they tackled Skaxis and shared their slobbery
goodbyes.
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