Sorry, guys. I just couldn’t leave it alone. I had to give you something. I was compelled to. So here is a thing.

A Blacksmith’s Adventures with Weapons of Legend: Azure Lilly, Sword of the River Tears, Pt. 1

“So,” Catalina began, breaking the awkward silence, “your family’s been blacksmiths for generations now, yeah? Have any of them ever produced a legendary weapon?”

“Yeah, we’ve been smiths since the Ekoalem first settled into Sorowa’s Cradle, and even before that,” Tom answered. “We earned the name ‘Riversedge’ centuries ago. But as far as legendary weapons go? Not that I know of. I mean, not any that the kingdom has any legends about. We’ve produced some impressive blades in our time, but few of them have even earned a name.”

Continue reading Don’t Get Your Hopes Up; This Isn’t A New Chapter

So here’s the deal. I’ve been trudging through chapter 5 and 6 both in an attempt to at least sort of catch up. I know I haven’t done much in the way of official story stuff, and I intend to remedy that. Hopefully, I will exceed expectations (because expectations probably aren’t very high at this point). Due to my commitment to catching up, this update will have no bonus content attached. Sorry. But I am not done writing!

So, this isn’t a status update, nor is it a cheap, lazy filler post. It’s kind of legit. Not a story chapter yet. Its status as canon is still up for debate, but it’s basically an extended version of a segment of a future chapter that’s been floating around in my head. Enjoy.

UPDATE: Silly me. Took me fourteen hours to realize I forgot a part of the chapter. Hopefully you’re reading this post-update.

A Conversation Most Grave: The Lion of Valor and the River Dragon, Part 1

Vincent sat down across from Tom, noting an air of gravitas despite the man’s youth. Vincent had agreed to meet with the warrior after he was released from the drudgery of the Vanguard’s meeting.

“So, you came,” Tom said, a tad bit surprised.

Continue reading Extra Mini-Chapter: Lion and Dragon

So, it struck me last night that I hadn’t posted a chapter in quite some time. This was not intentional, mind you. I finished Chapter 4, and checked out for a month, I guess. I had planned for only half a week of vacation, but hey, I got a month. I can’t even assure you guys that I’ll have a chapter out soon, because I haven’t even worked on Chapter 5. I don’t know where I’ve been for the past month, but I’ve clearly not been here. Sincerely sorry about that. No excuses. Anyways, hopefully I can assuage your disappointment with a character profile! (stealthily sneaks out the back door while the audience is distracted)

Aaron Mark Deepscar (The River’s Tale)

Description:

The bastard son of an elven slave and a man of many questionable talents, Aaron Deepscar is a young rogue who lives life in a careless, lackadaisical manner. A matchless thief and savvy seducer, Aaron seeks the one thing he cannot seem to attain: joy. His apathetic approach to the world is a result of a childhood that left him jaded and cynical. He finds unexpected adventure in a benevolent warrior, a dauntless pursuer, and a curious cast of equally strange characters.

Continue reading Look! It’s A Bird! It’s A Plane! No! It’s An Apology!

(I stole this from the interwebs. Sorry, interwebs.)

Continue reading I LIVE!!! …But I May Not Live For Long

So maybe some of you are asking yourselves, “Self, this Matthew fellow said he would be taking a break from writing for a short time, and yet he has produced several posts in the last few days. What gives?” Well, it’s pretty simple. When I do my chapters, I put a lot of work and thought into them. I labor over them and anguish over them so that they are good and worth posting. I spend a lot of time on making sure they are worthy of my standards. I have to worry about there context in the story. I have to make sure that it is well written. I have to carefully decide what I want to convey. With my mini-sodes, though, and my other random content, I’m flying by the seat of my pants. I’m putting in minimal effort, doing very little editing, if any at all, and not worrying about all the finer details. So, basically, I’m not trying to live up to my authorial duties and am essentially projectile vomiting what’s in my head onto paper and having no more concern for it beyond that. So not work. Not writing in any sense that you would think of it. Taking a break from serious work to do not so serious stuff.

Good day, my dear readers. Perhaps your wondering why I’ve started this post with a thinly veiled profanity. Well, initially my morning was simply inconvenient and did not warrant such an uncouth reaction. As you have no doubt noticed by now, given the late night/early morning posts I do, I have a bad habit of staying up till ungodly hours of the morn when I can afford to (usually going to bed around 4 AM, if you must know), thus leading to an equally horrendous habit of sleeping in late. Well, I was up till about 3:45 last night, and I rather inexplicably woke up a mere 4 hours and 45 minutes later at 8:30ish. So I’m a bit tired. Nothing I can’t handle. But my morning has taken me for a different sort of ride. I decided, silly me, that I wanted to watch an old Disney movie. You know the kind, back in the day when Disney was intense and they didn’t pull any punches. When villains were dark and brooding, when death was all too tangible, when the characters had emotionally crises caused by very real problems. Back when Disney was still good and Mufasa’s death devastated a young Matthew Matherne (I’m a very emotional person, you see). Back when Mulan’s “A Girl Worth Fighting For” had the most jarring mood shift in cartoon history. Back when Tarzan was so steeped in the bleak reality of nature that it seemed almost impossible for that movie to have an actual happy ending, until, you know, it did. Anyways, that was my intent when I loaded up Netflix. I was going to watch a good, old Disney movie. Well, while I was looking for one, I happened upon a collection of Disney shorts, and I thought, “Hey, I could watch this instead and NOT be emotionally compromised.” Silly me. The third or fourth short into this documentary, I guess you could call it, I don’t know, was one called “The Little Matchgirl” and it did not have  a terribly feel good ending, in my opinion. I mean, you have the whole “they’re in a better place now” vibe. But the girl still died. And that struck a chord with me this morning. And the state of things hasn’t improved all that much as I’ve kept watching Disney. Not that I’m going to stop. This is why old Disney was good. It made you feel uncomfortable and sad and angry. It challenged you. Anyways, Disney is doing all things that it’s supposed to and because of that you’re getting the one of the earliest posts you’ll probably ever get and also the most profane title you’ll probably ever get. So to cheer up the morning, you’re getting another mini-sode.

A Blacksmith’s Adventures with Weapons of Legend: Svard Forsta

“I am rage. I am agony. I am the furious screams of the oppressed,” the large abomination growled dramatically, cracks in his skin glowing as if lava flowed through his veins. “I am the wrath 0f-”

“Shut up!”

From out of nowhere, a booted foot struck the man in the face, disrupting his sentence and confusing the hell out of everyone present.

“You’re not angry, I’m angry!” the strange commando shouted, standing over his baffled victim, battle axe in hand.

“Alexander?” Tom asked, looking at the fearsome axe warrior.

“I am the paragon of Angern! No one is angrier than me! If anyone has the right to be called anger incarnate, it’s me!” the man boldly proclaimed as loud as he possibly could.

“No, I do, you bastard!” another similarly outfitted warrior shouted, charging at Alex. “I’m his freaking exemplar!”

“Gaius?” Tom inquired, no less perplexed than before.

Alex redirected his fiery rage at this new entity. As the two fought, Tom’s foe slowly crawled away. He did not escape notice, however. Tom’s current weapon quickly spoke up.

“You. Wielder. Are you incompetent or something? That oaf of a man is fleeing. I can’t do anything unless you use me,” the Svard Forsta said, mercilessly mocking her new master.

“Oh, shut up, Svard.  Geez, who new a talking sword could be so annoying?” Tom had acquired this sword quite by accident on the way here. He picked her up from a bandit on his way here. He knew she was special, but he did not know just how special until she felt the need to remark on his poor fashion choices.

“How dare you, human! I am no ordinary sword! I am the Svard Forsta! The First Sword! I was the weapon of choice for the greatest of your mortal kind! You should thank me for gracing you with my presence! And I told you to call me Svarda!”

“Whatever. As I recall, you were once a great and mighty wind guardian, until a Anvers scholar trapped you in this form. How far the mighty have fallen.”

“You dare take that condescending tone with me? I never!”

“How’d you end in the hands of a bandit anyways? Anverlund takes good care of its magical artifacts.”

“Mph. I don’t know why I’m bothering to indulge you, but fine, if you must know. After the passing of my first master, I was passed around to various mighty and powerful warriors. When Anverlund established their library or museum or whatever they call it, I was put there on display for scholars, warriors and lords to ogle. For countless years I sat there, bored and unsatisfied, until a young boy, a simple slave, approached me. He was seeking escape, and I agreed to help him if he agreed to help me with an escape of my own. So we departed for far off lands, eventually finding ourselves in the depraved town of Silversin, where the boy, now a young man, established an apothecary’s shop. One day, a street urchin, on an errand to retrieve some medicine, noticed me laying in a corner, sleeping, and absconded with me. He sold me to the highest bitter, a crime lord, and for a time I was passed from one powerful ne’er-do-well to the next. Eventually, they lost me in the forest you call Blacknight, where my last master acquired me. He died in a horrible and tragic accident which I caused by refusing to cooperate. Then you found me.”

“Another question: have you always been this obnoxious and self-important?”

“How dare-” she began, but was interrupted by a burst of wind that issued forth from her own blade.

Tom had finally reengaged his foe, and it was time to finish this battle.

The pretentious title aside, I actually do have some stuff I felt like sharing. There are a number of key artifacts in The Descendant, and I’d like to discuss them. Now, I know you guys probably think I’m too obsessed with magical items, and I am, but worry not. The stories I write do not generally focus too strongly on them. I just find them convenient vessels to talk about my world without spoiling too much of my story. Anyways, let’s get going here.

Notable Artifacts in the Descendant

The Founder’s Blade – This is the blade forged by the father of Argus’ (the eponymous Descendant) noble line. It is the symbol of the founder’s eldest son’s family (and therefore the main branch of the family) and the birthright of the eldest child, presented to them upon the passing of the current lord or lady. Though it is not magical itself, it is uniquely made, with the founder using fire and water magic throughout the smithing process. The blade appears to be made from Arilese black steel and Damigli steel, but the founder never revealed how he accomplished blending these two different materials together. Argus steals the blade from his father before fleeing from his home.

The Mind’s Eye – Another heirloom of the family, the Mind’s Eye is a false eye that the founder actually used in his life. The founder lost his real eye in battle, so he ordered a stone eye constructed from three scry stones: onyx pupil, lapis lazuli iris, milky quartz white. Along with the eye came three gemstones, each the other side of one of the components of the eye (scrying, as it exists in this instance, is essentially a telepathic bond, and works best when two objects are linked). Though scry stones are not uncommon in their culture of origin, the unique combination of three scry stones in one artifact is rare, and therefore expensive to create. Argus receives the Mind’s Eye from his grandfather, who loved him dearly and knew that, being the youngest, he was unlikely to receive any family treasures. His grandfather also recognized that Argus, above anyone else in his family, respected his family’s origins and would, in time, learn the significance of the eye. Argus discovered its telepathic abilities after using it to replace his own eye after a harrowing battle.

The Ruby Eye – An heirloom of the lowest ranking branch of Argus’ family, the Ruby Eye is a simple gold ring whose ruby serves as the other half of the milky quartz of the Mind’s Eye. It belonged to the adopted daughter of the founder and has become the symbol of her line. Unlike many noble lines, the eldest daughter, and not the eldest son, is head of the family. Historically, this branch family has served the other branches of the family, a fact they deeply resent. The current matriarch, Adelaide, discovers its telepathic link when Argus accidentally contacts her through the Mind’s Eye.

The Lover’s Bond – An heirloom of a branch of Argus’ family, the Lover’s Bond is a simple silver ring whose blue sapphire serves as the other half of the lapis lazuli of the Mind’s Eye. It belonged to the founder’s wife and has become the symbol of their daughter’s line. While blacksmithing once defined the main line, an affinity for magic and an uncommon amount of magically altered members define this highly esteemed branch family. The animosity between this line and the adoptive branch family is notably more intense than the other lines. Though the heads of the family have been able to sense the magic of the ring for generations, the true nature of the ring is only revealed when Argus accidentally alerts the current lord of his presence through the Mind’s Eye.

The Warrior’s Bond – An heirloom of a branch of Argus’ family, the Warrior’s Bond is a simple silver earring whose obsidian stone serves as the other half of the onyx of the Mind’s Eye. It belonged to a female friend of the founder and a fellow warrior. They used it to communicate on dangerous missions. After a mission in which the warrior died, the founder reclaimed the ring and gave it to his two sons. It became the symbol of his younger son’s line. A combat prowess only surpassed by the adoptive branch family defines this branch. The current lord doesn’t learn of the magic of the ring until Argus comes to him seeking aid.

The Archive Key – Another artifact from the founder, this simple stone key is said to unlock the Archive, a vault filled with legendary weapons. It is believed that the Archive contains enough power to overthrow the king. The key, however, was not passed down to the founder’s families. Instead, it is reported to be in the hands of a certain sect of Arilese monks. Argus acquires the Archive Key from a mysterious stranger shortly before the end of his journey.

The Teacup of Doom – Though not special in any particular way, the Teacup of Doom is the beloved teacup of Argus’ butler and best friend, Daniel. He boasts of being lethal with a teacup, and the Teacup of Doom has borne witness to this on a number of occasions. His exceptional prowess in such unconventional combat made it unnecessary to hire someone from the branch family to guard Argus.

The Envoy – The blessed weapon of the Wanderer. The current Wanderer encounters Argus on his journey and tests him.

The Sojourner’s Rest – A simple handkerchief belonging to Elise, one of Adelaide’s maids. It was one of the few possessions she was allowed to keep as a half-elvish slave. Adelaide’s mother bought her from human traffickers after seeing her and taking pity on her. Though she never knew her mother, she highly valued her handkerchief. Little did she know, it had minor healing capabilities. Elise discovers this when she treats Daniel’s wounds after a fierce battle.

Another legendary weapon for your enjoyment.

A Blacksmith’s Adventures with Weapons of Legend: Beast Soul

“Hey! Matt! Get that bracer!” Tom shouted, unable to do said task himself, due to being pinned to the ground by a couple of Inquisitors.

“Sure thing!” Matthew said, barreling towards the poor soul who was holding the strangely enchanting object.

When a 6’4″ pillar of muscle in the rough shape of a grizzly bear is charging at you, you might consider getting out of the way, which is exactly what this small (by comparison) man chose to do. Unfortunately for the Inquisitor, Matthew “The Great Bear” Wild, is quite a bit more agile than he would appear, and it did not take any effort at all for him to alter his direction and deliver a powerful blow to his chin. The now senseless man offered no resistance when the renowned martial artist confiscated the bracer.

“How you holding’ up, sis?” Matt asked, addressing the small woman fighting a short distance away.

“I’m doing fine. Shouldn’t you be doing what your mission leader is saying?” Joann replied curtly, before muttering to herself. “I wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t asked for help.”

“Jeez, sis, calm down. Just taking care of my family,” moped Matt, before returning to the task at hand. “Hey, Tom! What now?”

“Put it on! And ignore whatever slayer tricks you use to weaken magic!” Tom shouted back, throwing off his foes.

“Umm, okay…” Matt mumbled skeptically, but he obediently put on the bracer.

Immediately, Matt new something strange was going on. He felt his bones start to reshape themselves, breaking and fusing back together. His already hairy body was now producing a thick coat of animal fur. His face contorted and twisted until it resembled the muzzle of some large animal. His hands were now padded and claws were extending from his fingers. His mentality was still mostly human, but he had a peculiar desire for honey that had not been there before.

“What the…? This is freaking awesome! I’m a badass werebear! Ooh, Frostreach bear, nice. Tom did you know this would happen?”

“Well, I knew you would change, but I didn’t think that the Beast Soul would take your title so literally. Now use that newfound power to take down these bastards.”

“You really don’t like these guys, do you?” Matt inquired, tossing more than a few Inquisitors in the air.

“Despicable scum, the lot of them,” Tom answered, doing his own part.

When they had sufficiently cleared out their foes, Tom and his fellow fighters gathered around Matt. Matt took off the bracer, underwent the painful process of reverting back to normal, and then handed it to Tom.

“Wow, that is really something, Tom,” Matt extolled.

“I know, right?”

“Let me see that!” Joann demanded, confiscating the bracer and putting it on herself.

The cracking of bones, the stretching of flesh, and, soon enough, she was a small, slender version of an Arilese bear.

“Why this one? I’m every bit as Frostreach as my brother.”

“It’s not an exact science, Lil Cub,” her brother explained.

Joann simply growled in response.

“Hey, Ken,” Tom said to one of the other fighters, “you’re an abomination, right? Do you mind trying it on? I’d like to see how it reacts.”

“Sure, it can’t be any more painful than a regular transformation.”

Ken slipped on the bracer and…nothing.

“Sorry, Tom. Seems it doesn’t work on someone who already has that kind of thing going on. You try it.”

Tom slipped the Beast Soul on and was once more amazed at the prosaic nature of the peculiar artifact. From his back, a pair of dark, leathery wings sprouted. His teeth sharpened to fine points. The whites of his eyes turned blood red. Even his hands took on a more diabolical look.

“What’s all this?” Matthew asked, shocked at this change.

“One of my many titles is the ‘Demon in the Mist.’ I guess the bracer took that title to heart. So this is the power of guardian leather, huh?”

“Guardian leather?”

“Yeah. Back in the days when wild guardians were much more present and we still used methods of preserving their magic. Someone, somehow, managed to either infuse leather with guardian magic or skinned a guardian. The truth are hard to know, but the object’s effects are well documented. Andros the Beast earned his fame from using this artifact in battle. Supposedly he discovered it in the Sylphwood, after a harrowing encounter with a wild guardian.”

“Huh. Cool. Let’s get out of here, though. We don’t really want to fight anymore, do we?”

“Yeah. Let’s go.”

I think, alongside my blacksmith stuffs and the occasional legend and extra chapter, I’m going to try to get back into producing character profiles. I am, however, probably going to use a renovated format. However, for the time being, I’m going to probably stick with the existing format. Also, either today or tomorrow (although given that it is now 1 AM, give or take, in my time zone, “tomorrow” would actually be later today), I’ll probably post another legendary weapon story. Anyways, here’s a non-canonical character inspired by a friend who didn’t make the story. Now, this is subject to change if my friend doesn’t like it.

Candice Frostrock (Alleged)

Known Aliases: The Winter Wolff, The Diamond Dust Owl, The Alabaster Panther, Winged Cerberus, The Stormbringer, The Woman of A Thousand Faces

Age: 26 (alleged)

Birthdate: Springset (May) 11, 7059

Birthplace: Unknown, Frostreach, Koeleth

Current Residence: Unknown

Parents: Father Unknown, Iris Frostrock

Siblings: Robert Frostrock (Brother)

Significant Others: None

Pets: Skye (Dire Wolf)

Hair: Shoulder Length, Brown

Eyes: Light Blue

Height: 5’6″

Weight: 135 lbs

Tattoos: Unknown

Notable Features: None

Preferred Clothing: White Undershirt, Long-Sleeved White Shirt, Thick Off-White Leather Vest, Sky Blue Winter Fur Coat with Hood, Sky Blue Winter Fur Pants, Fur-Lined Winter Boots

Armor: None

Occupation: Hunter, Outlaw

Associations: Unknown

Koeleth Standard Warrior Rank: C

Weapon of Choice: Hunting Bow

Blessed Weapon: Unknown

Favorite Animal: Wolf

Other Notes: Has little patience for annoying people, has few real friends and allies but values those bonds highly