The house was filled with dust and ash from a blacksmith's hand, and Mister Osmund had just sat down for the first in seven hours. His legs sore from a half day's work and his hands filled with bruises, burns, and calluses. It was just a normal day for a blacksmith. His young son, George, sits down on the bed upon the furnace of the room.
"Father, tell me a story of dancing swords before I fall asleep."
"Well son, which one would you like me to tell you?"
"The one with my grandfather."
"You've heard that thousands of times."
"Yes but it is full of awe."
"Well luckily my young lad I only work for some of the day."
Osmund sits on the small wooden stool next to the furnace, puts a few logs into the furnace and starts a fire. He then cleans his hands off with his black stained shirt, sighs a sigh of relief that his day is over. He starts his tale, "Years back, so long in fact that I was sitting in that spot that you are, your Grandfather came in from his twelve year journey. Something was different about him. . .". George looks very curiously up at his father, even though he has heard this story for what it seems every night for the last three years and asks, "What was different about him?". Osmund looks down at his son and continues, "He had come back with that sword.". He points up at the black sword above the furnace with a diamond pommel. Osmund continues the story and tells his son goodnight as he puts out the furnace, as it is summer and warm at night, and walks outside. He moves through the sludge of wastes on the street and goes up the hill to the town tavern. He opens the door and the bartender behind the counter looks up at the bell ring on top of the door, "Well isn't Osmund the great town blacksmith.". Osmund waves and greets Lloyd with another wave.
"Slow day today?" asked Lloyd.
"Yes, just a couple of orders, but the kid wanted me to tell the story of his grandfather again."
"You mean the great story of Smith Osmund the killer of dragons and greatest blacksmith in history. No offense to you of course."
"I mean I may be good but not that good. My father was a legend.", said Osmund proudly smiling.
"Well what will it be?"
"Ale. Just ale today."
Lloyd smiled, handed Osmund his ale and Osmund fell into the bar, laughing and talking to his townsfolk and a few hours later all of them in the tavern drunk as always. A man that had clean and expensive gowns walked in with a warming smile.
Lloyd, "Well isn't it our favorite noble! What will it be? Let me guess, wine?"
"No, no today I've just come to buy some food for the peasants and drinks for the poor."
A peasant without a home in the back angrily looked up and yelled in a drunken slur, "Don't call us… peasants! We are slaves to the rich!"
"We do not work you like a slave if you really would like to be a slave and could sell you to the pirates at the north west port."
The random man got up, wobbled around, as if he had stood up too fast and went over to the noble. He then swung a punch directly at the noble's nose. The noble moves back but then a wooden cup of beer swipes across his face knocking out a tooth. He falls to the ground and the random man spits on his clothing, "I know who you're John Rolfe!", yells at the random man and then looks at Lloyd and says, "Are you really going to serve this man?". Lloyd looks at the random man and then looks down at John Rolfe and says, "Only if he pays for everyone's drinks and new houses for the ones without homes.". John Rolfe, frustrated , looks up at Lloyd and says, "I will only if you serve me with free drinks.". Lloyd looks at all of the others in his tavern and responds with, "No, get out of my shop!". The rest of the people cheer as John Rolfe shamefully walks out of the tavern. Lloyd smiles at all of the fun that his customers seem to be having. Then the man walks up to the counter and sits down. Lloyd looks at him and sees the grief he wears on his face, "What is wrong my lad?". The man looks up, "John Rolfe, that demon, before the tavern was here, he went through the town asking for all of the young men younger than twenty to stand out on the road. So they'll be wonderful children and when they did he looked at all of them and took five with him, including my son. He sold them all to the raiders on their quest, I don't know if he is still alive or what the raiders did to him.". Lloyd, cleaning the blood off of the wooden cup said, "I am sure your son is still alive and doing great.". The man gives a grateful nod of his head and walks out of the tavern.
John Rolfe looks around and sees the tavern barren except for himself, Osmund, Lloyd, and a few drunk men at the tables.
"I heard that the Clayman is in town.", said John.
"Yes and his father.", replies Lloyd.
"Is the kingdom going down?", asks John.
"It is.", begins Osmund, "It is part of our grand plan but someone let it out the raiders were coming."
"I was working while drunk and a royal soldier came in and I told him. It was an accident.", swears Lloyd.
"Though you are one of my close friends, my father will still have a disciplinary action against you.", says Osmund in a sorry tone.
Banging on the door is heard as John Rolfe begins groveling at the door.
"What the hell is going on!", yells John.
"He is here.", says Lloyd, "The lot of you get the hell out of here!"
The five men that remained in the tavern, drunk, wobbled out of their chairs, and began walking out.
John's arms and legs were bound to the ground by gold. The door opened and a man was older with medium length gray hair, light skin, glowing gold eyes, and no left leg. Instead of a leg he had a malleable piece of gold which moved like it was a part of his body.
"I don't know this man. Who is he.", said the older man,
"Goldton, this is John Rolfe the man who sold the raiders young soldiers.", Lloyd started, "And John Rolfe, this is Goldton Osmund, the head of this operation."
John Rolfe bends his head up, "This is the man in charge of this raid of Port City?"
"Yes, but do you know the big picture of this operation?", asks Goldton, the older man.
"No. is it just to gain power and wealth?", asks John, as the gold liquidized and moved off his skin.
"It is the H.E.T.F", starts Goldton as he walks all the way into the tavern and sits in one of the barstools, as Lloyd prepares him a drink, "It stands for the Human Extermination Task Force."
John Rolfe's eyes shoot open.
"We plan to take this southern desert by force of the raiders, whom we agree to leave alive, as long as they become our slaves. Then we will make an alliance with the elves and giants to exterminate everyone from the western continent.", says Goldton.
"But why?", asks John.
"Humans are vile creatures.", states Goldton.
"But aren't you all human?", asks John.
"Not anymore.", starts Goldton as he lends John a hand to step up, "Would you like to join us, John? Would you like to become stronger and wealthier?"
"How will you make me no longer human?"
"We can make you a god."
Later around midnight, after Goldton, Osmund, and John left, while Lloyd is cleaning barstools, when suddenly a loud crashing sound is heard above him, he looks up and something breaks through the tavern roof.
A dry raspy voice comes from the rumble, "Please help. Help! I am under the rumble!"
Lloyd quickly strides to grab the broom from the corner then goes to push out the rumble to find a small green person with wings. He pulls it out and puts it on the now dusty counter.
"What in the rings of hell are you?"
"Thank you for asking if I am okay, but anyway I am a fairy."
"Fairies exist? I thought they were supposed to be small and well nevermind?
"I am small, and what you don't think I am beautiful."
"No, I never said that. Can you read my mind?"
"No and that is always the second thing."
"Well I am not saying that it is just that normally they are imagined as wearing beautiful long dresses, and you are in I think a rag.", Lloyd continued, "Anyway what is your name? And why are you here?"
"Well my name is Alengwan. I am here because of the Sword of Osmund."
"You know about it? How?", says Lloyd as he starts picking up the pieces of wood from the roof and throwing it into a bucket.
"Well my herd of fairies have been dying because of the loss of magical creatures and plants, and the Sword of Osmund has something that I need."
"What does it have?"
"Dragon's blood.", says Alengwan as she stands up and wipes the dust off herself.
"That sword has dragon's blood in it?"
"Yes inside of the grip if you take off the pommel then there is a vile of that stuff. Can you point me in the right direction?"
"Yeah I've already closed up shop, so let me grab my key and lock up."
Alengwan's wings are damaged so she walks behind Lloyd as he shuts and locks the door. "Eww 'tis this ?". Lloyd looks down on the road, takes in a whiff and replies, "'Tis shit. Welcome to the world of peasants.". Lloyd and Alengwan get to the Osmund's home and knock on the door and tired George answers the door. They told him to go back to sleep and he listened.
Early the next morning Mister Osmund is gone from the town and Mrs. Osmund is fixing up breakfast for George. When down to the south east screaming and breaking of wood is heard. All three of them rush outside and raiders under the order of Bjorn the Brutal have set upon their land.
"George you must listen to your mother boy.", Osmund continues looking at his wife, "I love you dearly but I have to go get the swords and try to save you and our son. So most likely bye for now, but save the both of you.", he gives both of them an embracing hug and runs off into the house to grab his swords.
"Okay George I am going to hide with Lloyd in the tavern you up to the keep and tell any noble you can find that we are down here and the vikings are here. Can you do that for me please?", quickly said Mrs. Osmund.
"Yes.", but an expression of complete fear and sadness morphed George's face, "But will I ever see you and dad again?"
Mrs. Osmund's eyes fill with tears and pushes George away as he runs up the steep hill. He looks back and sees brave men like his father being ripped apart by rusty blades. He turns and runs to the keep, this is the first time he has felt sadness but he does not cry, the only thing on his mind even though he does not know it yet is survival. He reaches the top of the hill and sees a drunk man hearing clothes covered in blood and waste. George stands staring at the man in shock at what he had witnessed. The man turns to him and frustratedly asks, "What in the hell do you want you little peasant brat?". George quickly replies with a shaky voice, "Raiders. They're going to kill my mom and dad!". The man slowly stands up and drops his drink as it rolls down the hill, "Well we better make sure you are safe first I am going to go with you to the north west port to send you to some very kind people.". George and this drunk man walk off to the castle gates and then to the north west port.