The awakening was more painful than strange for Chapatrueno, he felt that every part of his body was burning, he raised his hand that was always in his thick leather gloves and found it pale, without strength and missing a few nails, at that moment he remembered in depressing detail his exile, but more than that, his inability to take revenge, that which kept him alive, he was far from home, he knew it because he did not smell the sea, not even the forest, it was a dry, harsh aroma of the plains.
He walked aimlessly, more to do something to distract himself from the terrible pain in his stomach, in the smithy when something did not come out he had a tendency to curse, here not a word left his lips, partly to keep the humidity, but it was more to avoid crying. After a long walk without seeing anything but barren ground, he came to a small cave of about three or four meters, at the bottom a small well of water allowed him to relieve the taste of blood metal in his mouth, he still did not dare to look at himself and even less to bathe, so he devoted himself to looking for some wood for a fire.
The firewood burned very well, apparently there was a crack in the upper part of the cave that acted as a chimney, hunger was present for several days, living on alcohol and many others in the cells, looking for food with the eyes was useless, the land was eroded, little animal life would be elusive and if there were no tools with which to hunt, He lifted several pebbles inside the cave and discovered a few centipedes, strung on sticks they were roasted and consumed, Chapatrueno knew that he still did not react and that his rage was not extinguished, he simply needed to eat to live, at least for another day.
The dwarf felt that he was going mad, a week locked in that cave allowed him to gain the necessary strength to go out and investigate, about four hours from his home in exile were the edges of the dark forest, unarmed he did not dare to enter, but even at the edges could be found piles of peat, feeling strange he kept as much as he could in a backpack made from his shirt, retracing his path he collected all the twigs he could, when he returned he began to make a crude forge with the stones, He worked for hours, even at night, he laughed from time to time, remembering that he had no tools to work, but still he did not stop, when the morning came he looked at his work, it was then that tragedy overtook him, he was alone, in a hostile territory, unarmed and the only thing he wanted was to have a forge, there he felt his mind wavering, but he began to scratch, looking for a slab that would allow him to serve as an anvil, that was when he saw a hammer.
He touched it cautiously, afraid it would disappear, but it was a dwarven warhammer, crude perhaps, with a copper base, impractical, however it seemed to the one who was there, the promise of life again, he slept the rest of the day. During the day he embraced his hammer, at night he extracted a large amount of water and formed mud paste he shaped his oven, scratching a little more he found a broken copper knife, his first job.
By the end of the week he had several knives with runes of speed, some crude shields, even a helmet, everything was made of copper and of low quality, but for him they were covered with a lot of meaning, no one had taken away his being a blacksmith, with a little bit of hope he would unearth some powerful things that would allow him to face the damned wolves, deep inside he knew that it was at the very least a stupid dream, but he wanted to hold on to a future, if it took years or centuries it didn't matter, he wanted to achieve it.
On the morning of the fourth month, according to his records, he began to see some silhouettes watching him, while he went to get more peat and firewood for his forge, he got the hang of working where the smoke was so intense that it made him cough all night and he fell ill. He prepared to make some spears by melting the knives, he still had no stone molds or anything like that, but he felt moderately optimistic, he was not one of the most popular smiths for nothing, but when he saw those silhouettes he felt a chill, they were not humans, because the tallest one did not reach his eyes, they were not dwarves, because they looked scrawny, but they were armed, at least with some wooden sticks. He hurried back to his cave, fearing that there would be no weapons left, his own, but it was all there, breathing relief through every pore, he equipped himself with the round shield and his hammer, he began to work harder, he needed armor and the lack of tools made him look for how to adapt various chain mail he found on the corpses of many men he sadly understood were sent into exile like him, only they did not want to live, they did not go very far, he was going to travel, he was very clear about that, there were still deaths to grant.
Although he had been awake most of the night, he dozed off a little an hour or two before dawn, when a bird's cry woke him, and he found a very strange scene: on his iron stone was a bundle of spears with broken tips, arranged from the most complete to the one with the tip completely broken, next to them some bricks, and two newly married rabbits, whoever it was had his first customer.
He worked like this for three months, his customers (he was sure they were very friendly gnomes or goblins) brought him things they thought he needed and in exchange he repaired their weapons, the first few nights he feared for his life, but when the payments arrived on time he began to leave his shelter to sleep under the stars. His shelter to sleep under the stars, one particularly noisy night he woke up to find he was missing a couple of good shields and about seven or eight well-pointed bronze daggers, but he didn't look at his inventory, all his attention was focused on some sword molds, that and a real anvil with a few piles of mineral coal, he didn't want to ask where it came from, but now he could work, and he did, He turned scrap bronze into sheet metal and from there into dwarf armor, his hammer of war got some upgrades and a riveted wooden shield that matched his first warrior set, this time he would not be caught off guard, with great patience he carved all the magic runes he could think of, it was exhausting to carry and swing each rune, but he was fed by his customers and only repaired junk, so he had plenty of time for his goal.
It has been a week since he finished all his equipment, a part of him does not want to leave, the goblins (after they lost their fear of him, he often sees them bringing him work and even paying him with metal ores) it is time to leave, but he does not dare, He knows that goblins have no ability to work metal and will return to hunting with sticks in a few months, but he must go for his revenge, he was in these thoughts when a high-pitched scream alerted him, when he looked out and saw the goblins engaged in an unequal fight. A company of men armed with spears were killing every enemy they encountered, and those who followed were reduced to cutting off their ears. Despite the horror of the massacre, he could distinguish the banner they carried: a large, toothy mouth.
He hesitated a little, and almost attacked two large goblins who took him by the hand, but when he saw them he assumed they were the leaders, for they were carrying some of the copper swords he had forged from the molds.
At a moment like this he considered his options: flee? Why? his enemy was here, attacking the goblins? But no matter how bad they said they were, they did nothing to harm him and just paid for his services like everyone else in his old city. He knew this was wrong, that he had to follow the path of righteousness, save the weak and help those who couldn't, and he saw a light.
-You have the will to serve the light- he did not know if he was seeing a giant star, but its light was warm, comforting. -Be a paladin, help and serve with honor and rigor those who need you- at that moment he heard a melancholic and cynical laughter, when he turned around he saw a man with a coffin surrounded by an intense blackness.
-You do not need the Light to do justice- he said- it did not help you when you needed it most, you have the potential, stop thinking about what others think is right, you alone must choose without codes or anything else what will help your fellow men the most... they are dying and you do nothing to defend them, choose my path, visit me with the dark elves, there you will learn the truth- the dwarf turns and asks the Light as a plea if following the path of the paladin will punish the ungodly.
-It is not up to you, you will be a paladin who watches over the rules, who respects authority, who forgives the mistakes of others and is strict with himself, what do you offer me, dark being?
-I will not give you prizes, justice needs no payment, but you may take revenge, not by my hand, but by your own power - both voices raised.
"Choose!"
He didn't even think about it.
The warriors of the steppe wolf clan smiled a little nervously, every half year they traveled to the steppes to collect the rewards for bringing goblin ears to the sheriff, but this time it was a little different, they were defending themselves, the previous occasions they just ran away, from time to time one or another tried to attack, but with iron armor and spears of the same material it was painful to eliminate them, Except for the 50p silver for the ears, now they had already taken out the eyes of a few of them and were still stabbing at the warriors tendons, at this rate they would end up killing someone of the clan, so he gave the warning to release the wolves that had been starving for weeks and went out to leave a trail of death in their path, he was about to ask for his wineskin when one of the wolves fell with a groan, the others began to retreat.
The few wolves that attacked him ran into his shield or a protected forearm, in a short time the goblins joined him and eliminated the few remaining wolves, now very scared, the leader of the team took out a couple of scrolls for which he paid a lot to a caparoja, all of them are loaded with different attack spells, he takes out the cheapest one, the rune is activated and he points at one of the goblins with something like an armor "burn", the loaded paper releases the spell and a ball of fire rushes over the unfortunate leader who burns mercilessly, he takes out the next scroll and just as he is about to use it on the remaining leader he hears a scream "drain" and the paper remains unarmed.
Chapatrueno casts a curse to see that he does not arrive in time with the burning leader, he is very upset, he cannot allow the death of the two or the rest of the herd will flee, the words come out of his mouth before he realizes it and suddenly more than a ray of light, a negation of it sprouts from his mass and hits the scrolls, a power unknown to him fills him and allows him to continue attacking, The runes alternate, one hits with additional lightning damage, others with ice or fire strikes, some leave the unfortunate mercenaries paralyzed, they can only see how to flee, but he does not let them, he pursues them with the wild joy of doing what he had been searching for many months, he was returning the pain he felt and he was jubilant to do it.
When the scrolls stopped working, the wolf leader turned his head to find that only a few of his men separated him from the dwarf, whose entire armor was now glowing in black light, and as if in a bad dream, he watched as each of his own fell with a blow from his hammer, while the goblins behind him finished off the fallen, He drew his sword and launched an attack from the comfortable position his position on the horse gave him, it hit the dwarf's shield and immediately he felt a small blow on his back, he could not turn around as the dwarf attacked the horse and the human's legs equally, Another blow, this time with all his strength, falls on the wooden shield and causes a considerable crack, it is at this moment that he sees that the shield is full of black runes (although he didn't know the deflection rune, he felt it when it hit the shield), a deflected spear hits him in the shoulder and knocks him off balance, He falls, cursing, only to find that he is alone, the few remaining wolves have fled, leaving him alone, even the horse galloped away, unwilling to stay a second longer in a lost battle, two blows of the hammer hit his spine, leaving him numb, immobile.
Shooing begs for mercy, Chapatrueno comes closer to look him in the eyes before giving him the coup de grace, the last thing the unfortunate leader of the raid sees are eyes as black as the eternal night, then nothingness.
The dwarf oversees the looting of the dead and the burial of the loved ones, everyone looks on without thanking him for getting into a fight in which he was not asked to intervene, he says nothing, dries his hammer while he contemplates the massacre, more than twenty dead wolves, he takes a blacksmith's hammer that the mercenaries were carrying, with a little work due to fatigue he climbs up to his cave and announces, "In two months I will leave, Whoever wants to make weapons and armor like the one I carry must learn with me, and the tribe will prepare food for a long journey, I will teach them, but they must be willing to be good blacksmiths" they look at each other, Chapatrueno wonders with some consternation if he should teach them their language, when a pair of hands among the youngest ones is raised, he puts them to work at the fire, there is no time to lose if he wants his revenge to be fulfilled. ... and boy does he want it.