Crafting a Rider's Sword. (Quetzal.)

[Ryarion]

Ryarion landed on Deloi outside the gates of Belatona. Obviously, everyone was very surprised when this happened. Mostly because Deloi and Ryarion stayed in secret for 2 years and had never told the queen. This being their first appearance in public Ryarion knew that he had to control his actions. We are here to see Throkk. Ryarion said obviously displeased that he had to go through all of this security.

 The guards looked at him like he was speaking gibberish but just opened the gate. Deloi why don't you go hunting for awhile while I search for this forge. I was only excepting as much Deloi said with amusement as he knew he couldn't have fit through the streets of Belatona. Ryarion got off Deloi and watched his companion fly into the distance their connection was severed in about 1 minute and Ryarion put his barrier's up. Just in-case that there were any enemy spell-casters around.

Ryarion walked in through the gates and the guards shut them behind him. Ryarion had no idea where this blacksmith's forge was and was going to have to ask for some help from the locals. Or not because as Ryarion walked in the streets were open and nobody were on them. Maybe it was my appearance... They don't know if I work for the Varden or the Empire yet.

Ryarion's mind suddenly was opened and not knowing who it was tried to put up his strongest barriers. Ryarion though felt silly after a second and realized that it was probably Deloi. Back from hunting so quick? Ryarion said with actual surprise. Oh please.. you think I could have survived on the little meat you gave me when I was tinier. I had to hunt for myself. Deloi said as he embraced Ryarion's thoughts with his.

Ryarion knew he was being teased and he didn't mind it as long as it was his dragon doing it. Finally, after walking in the streets endless paths he found a shop with the sign that said Blacksmith. Hopefully this was Throkk's shop as he didn't know where else to look for it. He walked in seeing the person covered in ash. Are you Throkk? Ryarion said obviously hoping that whoever he was could hear him over the anvil getting smashed under the blade.

[Quetzal]

The man covered in ash was short, too short to be human. His right arm showed thicker muscle than his left, the cause of this evident by the hammer in his hand repeatedly striking the blade on his anvil with great force. His right arm got a good workout most of the day, every day, while his left was still strong but was exercised mostly when training to fight. He looked up as someone spoke his name. "Aye, lad, that I am," he confirmed, watery coloured eyes standing out against his dirty face. He hit his thick beard a couple of times, knocking the worst of the ash out. There was little point in cleaning up properly when this guy was probably about to make a request that would put him back by the fire of his forge.

He looked the young elf up and down a few times. He was younger than any elf he'd met before, if appearance was anything to go by, which was often risky given how much some elves likely to change their appearances. Had to be careful around magic users, you never knew what tricks they had up their sleeves. The sword on the anvil was nearly done, a standard weapon for any Varden soldier who needed it. Not a weapon he was proud of itself, but he was proud to be helping the Varden. The basic weapons were a bore to make, but it was a small sacrifice to make in the long run for the cause he believed in. On occasion he got to make something more interesting. Usually his orders from the Varden were sent by a group of soldiers good enough to defend the previous order of weapons and armour as they carried it back to camp, but not so good they would be missed were they to not make it back. An elf meant a possibility of some more exciting work.

Intrigued by the stranger's purpose here, he softened a little. He rubbed his blackened sooty hands on the front of his thick leather apron, flashing Ryarion a curious smile. "Pleased to meet you. You're here for my service as a smith, I suppose? Care to introduce yourself?" he asked, holding out a hand for Ryarion to shake. "I can make most any weapon you can think of. Swords, daggers, spears, axes, and armour too. Got a few alloy o' my own at my disposal, too. I can even weave magic into the metal, though you'll have to provide the magic. Got no magical abilities of my own, me, but I know how to work with someone who does to give metal something special," he said with pride. His metalwork and prowess at the forge was his sole greatest passion in life.

[Ryarion]

Ryarion looked at the mysterious dwarf. This was his first time trying to tell someone that he was a dragon rider and it was quite hard to accomplish. You must be a dwarf. I've read about your race in the books in the library of Ellesmera. Ryarion was one of the youngest elves in the entire land of Alagaësia, he still had much to learn about the world and still didn't get much of what he read in the books that he had read in Ellesmera. Though meeting a dwarf, one of the races he had learned about in the library was more then an experience for him.

I am a dragon rider from the elves of Ellesmera. I've been in secret for 2 years with my dragon who is nearby. If you could keep it a secret as I don't want Galbatorix to know there is another dragon rider. And by the way the elves don't even know I exist either. Ryarion said, obviously nervous about being near the dwarf. A sword is what I mostly need. The man who taught me said to seek out a dwarf by the name of Throkk in Belatona and here I am. Ryarion said as he continued.

My name is Ryarion and my dragon's name is Deloi. Ryarion said as he shaked the dwarves sturdy hand. As Ryarion had already discovered unusual things tended to happen when he said his dragon's name without it being between their two consciouses. The ground seemed as if it had shifted when he said the dragon's name. Acting like it didn't happen as he wanted to keep his powers that learn't from the man a secret because they were secrets of the earth branch. Don't worry I will be able to provide more then enough magic to weave the blade. I am only a teenager in elf years.. And as you might know we have as much magic or even more as other riders because of it. Ryarion said, making sure that he had gotten his point across.

[Quetzal]

Ellesmera, eh? The biggest elven city, it made a lot of sense for this elf kid to be from there. What he said next surprised Throkk. He hadn't been expecting an elf, much less a Rider. Many a Rider and dragon had gone into hiding during Galbatorix's long reign, no doubt there were still some out their biding their time, so there were no surprises there. The ground felt odd for a moment, as if something were changing beneath its surface, but Throkk dismissed that as his imagination since Ryarion had said nothing. "Don't you worry, Ryarion, my lips are sealed. I'm with the Varden misself, so you won't see me ratting you out to ol' Galby! Up to you an' Deloi. to let people know who you are," he promised firmly. He did not speak the Ancient Language, having never seen the point when he couldn't use magic, so could not swear in it, but was man of his word.

Just as Ryarion had never met a dwarf before, Throkk had not met an elf as young as he was. He hadn't said anything about his apparent youth, unsure if it was some appearance-changing spell, but thankfully he had cleared it up in his own speaking. "Teenager, eh? You must be the youngest elf I've ever met, all the ones I've seen have been about a hundred years old, I think." Over a hundred years old and looking as smooth skinned and athletic as if they had been a century younger. Throkk showed his years on his face in lines, hardened by work. He was not old for a dwarf, but his kind showed their ages in rougher faces than the fair forest-dwellers.

"Aye, I can make you a sword. A work of art, mind! I've made a sword for a Rider before, a human girl by the name of Isrydia with an ice blue dragon called Arlyn, doubt you've heard of them. It's the finest blade to come out my forge, and I can make you one just as good. This alloy I developed with the help of my friend Tashiel, it's not brightsteel but it's still light, very strong, and can be made into as sharp and thin a blade as you'd like. Tell me, before we get started, what shape and size would you like this sword to be? What colour is Deloi, or would you rather me make it a different colour to your dragon's scales?" he asked a round of questions.

[Ryarion]

Ryarion looked at the man with doubt.Another rider? Ryarion was mind-blown as he thought that he was the only one left. Ryarion wasn't taught much of history from his teacher, only all of the words in the ancient language and how to craft spells using them. Much of his experience of casting spells and or magic came from the mysterious man he had encountered. The one that always had a cloak over his head and always was changing his voice as if to confuse Ryarion.

This new alloy I do not trust. I've only heard of Brightsteel... But if you don't have any then I have no choice. Ryarion said, obviously displeased with this problem. Like you, I am not a formidable blacksmith. I may have grown up doing the work but I can't articulate the size and shape of the sword. I know that I want to be able to swing it with speed and grace. Brute force doesn't win a fight.. as my teacher had taught me. Ryarion said as he continued.

My dragon happens to have green scales. Though I would prefer a golden sword. Ryarion had his reasons and didn't want to have to explain them to the dwarf as he didn't trust him yet. And will you even make me a sword? I don't serve the Varden though I do not serve the tyranny of Galbatorix. Ryarion hoped that the strong dwarf would understand his predicament and would make him a sword still. And make sure ... to not even tell your most esteemed commander's of my arrival as if you do I won't particularly be happy about it... Ryarion's voice trailed off.

He didn't like threatening the dwarf to not tell anyone about him but he wanted to stay safe. He hadn't heard anything about the varden's leaders or anything like that but he got the concept of what they hoped to achieved which was to kill Galbatorix and return the land to it's former glory. If anyone found out about Ryarion they would want him to go right into the battle and fight the empire. Which he didn't want to do just yet though it was riding his mind.

[Quetzal]

Ryarion looked puzzled for some reason. Throkk almost questioned why, but he had already begun responding to his offer of forging a sword with the alloy of his own creation. "What I wouldn't give to have my hands on some brightsteel. None of that around any more, everyone's pretty certain of that. Eragon found the last of it to make his Rider sword. I should like to have a good look at one of the Rider weapons made with brightsteel some day, they are supposed to be magnificent," there was a wistful tone to his voice. He had served three Riders in his time, but he would love to see a true work of Rhunon's brightsteel. Better yet, to meet Rhunon herself. The things he would learn!

He nodded at the description. "Quick and graceful, of course, I can do that. Most Riders opt for that method of fighting, from what I hear." He hadn't heard of a single one who wielded a more cumbersome weapon than a large sword. "Gold, sure. I may need a little help from your magic to get the colour exactly right; if I add too much colour to the metal it may lose its properties," he informed the young elf. At the concern as to whether or not the sword would even be produced, Throkk grinned. "Oh, there is no way I'm turning down making a Rider's blade, unless it was to be used by the Empire against my friends. There's honour in making a weapon like this, and it's guaranteed to be one of my most exciting tasks. I won't tell anyone about you, but you know, the Varden won't enslave you and Deloi or anything. They're not like the Empire, they don't make anyone swear anything in the Ancient Language."

The dwarf put away the half-finished sword on his anvil. He could finish it later, and if the steel proved too stubborn to work on further, it didn't matter. He could make those basic things quickly, and was far too excited at Ryarion's proposal to delay starting at all. Throwing a couple of logs onto the fire to heat up his forge further, he lifted a large chunk of unusually pale silvery metal. It was heavy, but an awful lot lighter than most other metals. He put on thick protective gloves, shoved the block into the forge and began arranging various hammers and tools in preparation for the metal's softening. "That was the alloy there. Once it's softened, I can start hammering it into place." He paused. "Would you like the handle to be gold, too? Oh, and you've got to have a gem for storing power. Gold as well? I can put some green decoration around too, if you'd like. Vine patterns on the blade or around the handle, purely for looks," he offered.

[Ryarion]

Ryarion was disgusted by the man's proposition. Looks don't help me when my head is about to be chopped off. Ryarion said, obviously displeased with the dwarf blacksmith's proposal. Ryarion showed the sturdy dwarf the green gem, not explaining it at all. I will use this for my gem though I will need a moment to store some of my magic into it. Ryarion walked into another room in the shop and went into a meditative position. The gem was in his hands as he started chanting.

Deloi Moi Waíse heill Ryarion said it over and over again as the ground started to shift underneath him. Dirt and rock started to float around the young rider as he continued chanting. Without meaning too, some of the dirt trailed off and healed Throkk's mishaps. He still needed way more practice though it had to be done now. Green energy appeared within the dirt and rocks and it all flew out with a single incantation Waíse néiat Ryarion said after he finished the chant the green energy within the rocks came out and went into the gem wildly. In the gem it looked as if the energy was trying to float around.

Ryarion collapsed onto the ground, feinting for a second but getting back up quickly. He didn't have much experience and he had accidentally healed his and Throkk's wounds which almost made his magic pool go to dust. He barely had any left and he needed to rest for it to recharge though there was no time. He wobbled into the dwarf's blacksmith room and handed him the gem. Right as the gem left his hand as it was giving him some power back he feinted and it wasn't just for a quick second this time.

[Quetzal]

Throkk laughed at Ryarion's displeasure. "A no-frills man, eh! It don't help none, you're right. I like a bit o' beauty in my steel, however unmanly that may seem. Unless it takes away from function, of course. I'll make you one solid practical weapon through and through. I'll keep working while you add to that gem, all right," he nodded, watching Ryarion go before returning his focus to the forge, keeping a close eye on the alloy. Excellent it might be in finished, worked form, during its shaping it was a fickle thing. Get it at the wrong temperature, handle it too much, it would start losing some of its qualities.

His attention was drawn towards the doorway Ryarion had walked through as he felt faint tremors in the earth, feeling as though they intensified towards where the elf was sitting. He couldn't see what the young Rider was doing aside from a small trickle of green energy and a little dust making its way towards him. He had no clue what the chanting meant. An awful lot must be going into that gem! Carrying on with his work as he could not afford to be distracted, he pulled the softened block out the forge and gathered everything together to begin hammering at it. All the while he felt a steady strength returning to him. A couple of sore bruises and cuts he'd acquired gods knew how faded. Any tiredness left him completely, his head clearing and muscles pleading to exert themselves, eager for work. He looked again to where Ryarion had gone, suspecting it was his doing.

His customer emerged on shaky legs. Alarmed, Throkk reached to take the gem and reacting on instinct dropped his hammer to grab Ryarion as he fainted. It was totally unexpected, but thankfully his quick reaction had prevented the fainted elf from hitting his head on any sharp or hard metal tools on his way to the ground. Throkk did not know a thing about healing, so propped Ryarion safely to one side against a wall until he woke up. He took a pulse and checked his breathing, finding everything to be in order. He was exhausted, that was all. Magic could do that, he knew. Given time he would wake. In the meantime, he carried on working, glancing up every few minutes to check how the elf was.

((Feel free to skip to whatever stage of the process of making the sword you want, Throkk's only going to keep making it while Ryarion's unconscious))

[Ryarion]

Ryarion woke up suddenly, gasping for air but he quickly regained his breathing. Ryarion looked over at Throkk as he was working not noticing he woke up because of how loud the forge was. The young elf sneaked up behind the dwarf and suddenly said How is the work going? looking down at the alloy and back at the dwarf. Ryarion looked at the green gem that was by the dwarves hand. I hope that will work just fine. the rider continued talking  So where do you need help with my magic for crafting the blade?

I just hope I will be able to give enough magic because of that mishap.  I think I might have healed you on accident Ryarion said, not happy with his work. Putting up wards around himself quickly with what magic he had to protect himself in case of an assassination or some sort of attack.

[Quetzal]

Throkk jumped. Ryarion's voice had startled him. "You're awake!" he exclaimed, realising he must have been so engrossed in his work he had failed to check on the elf in the past few minutes. It was hard to concentrate on anything else when the sword he was crafting was turning into something so fine. He had decided to only ever use the alloy he and Tashiel had created when a Rider was in need of arming themselves, the stuff being so difficult and time-consuming to make he would be completely unable to meet any sort of high demand. Not to mention, he thought not so many people were worthy of a weapon of such fine metal. Being chosen by a dragon was an easy way to test how worthy someone was for something like this, but perhaps he might be willing to craft Rider-like blades to non-Riders if he saw them prove themselves. Heroes or great people.

"I'll need your help in giving it its colour, and I've found that the best way to make a weapon truly an extension of a person's body is to have the person who will be wielding it tell it so. Introduce yourself to the sword, however silly it may seem. Tell it what you want from it and it will comply under my hammer," he explained. Magic had odd ways of shaping the world around it.

The lump of metal was looking like a sword by now, practical and slim for deadly speed. It was gold, though not brilliantly so, with still a hint of the pale grey it had been before - the spell to brighten that colour would not be too hard. Throkk was working at the finer details of the shape by now. Subtle curves in the edge of the blade might be hardly noticeable, but dramatically altered how the sword cut through the air. The handle was still a vague blob, waiting to be formed and for the gem to be set into it. "I don't want you to faint again. Draw energy from me if you must, though not so much I can't keep going with this sword, because timing's pretty important with this metal. I think you did heal me, so have a bit more energy anyway," he offered.

[Ryarion]

Ryarion didn't really believe how if he told the blade and introduced himself that it would do what he wanted but, since this blacksmith was much more
experienced them him and he was a dwarf so he must know a-lot about it.Ryarion took his magic so that there a green energy in-front of him and started chanting.

Vel eïnradhin iet ai Shur'tugal sverdar sitja hvass Fricai onr eka eddyr. Ryarion after chanting he said to the dwarf I think I'll just... sit down for awhile exhaustion in his voice. Ryarion walked over to a bench with a bunch of soot on it and sat down. Breathing hard he forgot to leave the gem by the blacksmith's side so he went back to him and put it on a little table right by him. He looked down at the pale colored blade and whispered a spell in the ancient language, turning the blade bright gold in color.

But, even though he wanted to continue watch the blade as the dwarf worked he went back to sit down where he was before. Sitting down with a deep breath he tried to look over the dwarf to see the blade but couldn't.

[Quetzal]

As Ryarion spoke, the blade began to ripple and shift. The changes to its form were only very subtle, but the whole thing changed shape ever so slightly to better suit the Rider's hand. Throkk could see it move under his hammer, knowing the magic was providing guidance to help him make this sword perfectly fitted to Ryarion. To others it might feel like any good sword, but to Ryarion it would be incredibly easy to wield, highly responsive to whatever he wanted it to do.

The colour brightened. That was pleasing, it was a brilliant shade of gold. All that was left to do now was finish the more fiddly little bits of the handle and fit in the gem. The dwarf took it and set it into the softened metal, then worked more at the metal to secure the gem in place and to make it easier to hold.

After a while of working and leaving Ryarion to rest to one side, Throkk smiled with satisfaction and cooled the sword a final time, turning to his customer with pride in his eyes. "It's done. I can tweak it a bit if you're not quite happy with it, of course. You should try it out if you're not too tired," he declared happily, gesturing to the sword where it lay on his workbench.