Hammersong

[Gavin Etheridge]

The intense heat wrapped around Gavin's face and body, coating him in a sheen of sweat, black smudges staining his cheeks and thick arms. His hands gripped the handles of the bellows and pumped up and down, forcing air into the fire and intensifying the heat that filled the forge that was little more than an open shed. The heat expelled all traces of the early morning chill that had descended from the mountains and settled in the valley, the smell of the sea and approaching autumn riding on the wind. Now was one of Gavin's favourite times of day; the morning was early, he could still smell the lingering traces of night and the sea, and around the island country families were just now turning out their flocks and herds to go grazing in the lush green that nursed Carraig.

The heavy hammer came down steadily, one solid hit followed by two smaller ones from reverb, working the steel to his will. He knew there were machines to do this, and if he'd wished it he could learn and master alchemy and create such a thing in a matter of moments. But this was more than just forging steel and iron. This was creating and changing one thing to another. This was ancient magic that flowed through every Creig's veins. This was Gavin's peace. BANG! Klang klang! BANG! Klang klang! Like a steady waltz, the metal-working was music to Gavin's ears, and seemed to set a beat that carried down the hill for the newly registered trainees below to work to.

Gavin loved being present to observe the first days of training to new training recruits. He took immense pride in knowing that Carraig's army was still one of the world's strongest and most-diversely trained, and even centuries after taking their stance on neutrality regarding the rest of the world they still used the skills and tactics used hundreds of years ago when the country's biuggest income was selling their mercenaries to go win the wars of other countries. Martial arts. Hand to hand combat. Various guns. Halberds. Sailing and navigation, aviation. Their ever-expanding technological advances. Every advantage Gavin could find to give his soldiers, he would; the strength of their army meant the ongoing peace and safety of his small country, and even though he was technically allied with Xing and Creta, the world was still a shaky and uncertain place. History was always quick to point out that even allies wouldn't always come to your aide for the right price. Know your enemies but do business with them always...

BANG! Klang klang! BANG! Klang klang!

Most of the new recruits training were always teenagers, just finishing highschool and serving their conscripted three years before they were given the option of continuing with their military or taking what they learned and then attending university or even just returning to their farms. He paused in his hammering to dip the blade in progess into the water, steam filling his vision as a great hissing noise met the air. He pulled it out, examined it, and set it back down as he took a break to look down and observe them all unseen. The boys came in all shapes and sizes, though over time he knew they would change and take on a more uniform look as their bodies were honed and perfected. Right now only basic drills were being shown, and next would be older weapons no longer used by armies on the mainland. Few things trained your arms faster than a sword that weighed half as much as your own body did.

Halberds were passed out and the teenagers spread apart, the guard instructing them shouting in Creig, the musical language almost echoing and boucing back off the side of the mountains nearby. Gavin leaned forward, watching as the captain demonstrated spinning the tall staff and thrusting the axe-like blade. He watched as the recuits tried to mimic the motion, some doing better than others. His eyebrow quirked slightly as he decided he wanted a better look and put his hammer down, pulled his gloves off and walked down the side of the hill. His hair was pulled back in a small ponytail, several curly strands escaping the tie and clinging to his face. The black tee-shirt he wore was also clinging to him, his jeans the only loose thing he wore though it was equally covered in sooty smudges. His speech aid was in his bak pocket, safely tucked away. His steps were very soft on the grass, and as he walked around where the newest recruits were training, he held up a hand to his lips, motioning for the Captain to not alert them to his presence. Not that he looked remotely dignified or kingly in the slightest, but he didn't want them to become paranoid being watched so closely by their king.

Thickly muscled arms folded over his chest as he observed from behind, appearing as no more than just another employee on the grounds who handled the upkeep of the weapons who wanted to watch the show.

[Guest]

The early morning air was fresh. However it wasn’t even bothersome, he had faced worse in Briggs. Those mountains out did these ones in Carraig. Not to judge the beautiful scenery of the island but these mountains really could not compare to those in Amestries. Ren walked down the dirt road, looking at the large mountain to the side of him. The lush green looked amazing against the grain of the dark wood. Ren smiled it was a beautiful scenery and as he walked down the road he could hear the sound of something loud. It sounded like metal bashing against one another. Bang! klang! klang! Bang! The sound of what Ren believed to be the metal hitting against each other made a constant noise. It sounded as if it was a rhythm as it just continued ringing through the air over and over again.

He had made his way to the base of the mountain and where the sound was coming from. Trying to look for what was making the noise, Ren had no luck as he was too far down to see. Taking the hood off his dark, silk robe Ren rubbed the back of his head as his brown hair scuffled against his skin. He was ready for his daily dose of training. This was the reason why he came to Carraig and as much as he would have liked a break he had no time. He needed to become in peed condition if he ever wanted to survive the test. After all since Central was blown up, Ren could assume the test would have had change to something harder.

He began to run up the mountain, making sure he was not burning all his energy out climbing the steep challenge. With each step he was getting closer and close to the noise. He was in time with each it as each step the loud bang noise was heard. Till of cause it stopped. However this did not affect Ren and thus he continued powering away. “I will not give up!” Ren was trying to motivate himself but underestimating this mountain was clearly a mistake. It was larger and steeper than first thought and now he was paying the price for underestimating his foe.

That’s when he saw him. His guardian devil, running behind him with an axe. Bryson had his odd methods but they worked. Ren could remember when he first meet Bryson. He was stuck in a blizzard and the old fool saved him, risking his own life for him. Still to this day Ren had no idea as to why he did such a thing, but he is still grateful no matter what his teacher said about it. From then on Bryson taught him everything he knew, his methods were extreme however they made Ren a stronger man and that was what he wanted…

Finally reaching somewhere noticeable on the mountain Ren stopped for a short breather. He looked down and figured out he had ran a fair distance and to go further would be pointless at the time. Next to him stood a thick tree that was at least five times the size of any tree he had seen before. Taking up a stance Ren was getting ready to do something utterly stupid yet if he succeeded he knew that he was ready to become a State Alchemist.

Lifting his leg up and thrusting his body in a whip like fashion, Ren unleashed a fast and hard kick to the side of the tree…Nothing happened…The tree was already starting to prove to be a worthy adversary. Ren r started to kick the tree more and more. Each kick as strong at the last yet nothing still happened. The closet he got was two leafs falling down and dropping onto his head. Anger was starting to build up as reality started to set in. He could not kick down this large tree. But why was he doing such a thing was anyone’s guess.

Stopping for a brief second Ren screamed out in frustration, “GAHHH!” He resumed and started slamming his hard kick to the tree’s body. How could he possibly become a state alchemist if he couldn’t even kick down a tree. Little kids kicked down trees yet he couldn’t. It really made Ren mad to know he could not perform such a trivial task. With each and every kick Ren followed by a loud scream. His leg was starting to get sore too and Ren knew he needed to do this or he was no man but a little boy. His mind was set on taking the tree down and once his mind is set there is no way to change it. They can call that being stubborn but really Ren was just determined to prove himself right.

“WHY?” He finally realised a final loud cry that sounded like a battle cry. But his question was not for anyone else but himself.

[Gavin Etheridge]

There was something rereshing to see in the determination of the young. The new soldiers training here today who would become unified and strong and work to protect their cuntry until the day that Carrag could remove itself from from the world entirely. The determination of his own little daughter who worked hard to bring the designs of her imagination to life through her genious weapons and machines that made a much bigger impact on Carraig and the entire world than she understood or was even aware of at this time. Gavin's eyes moved to each new soldier, watching as they trtied to move in unison to become a whole (though many were struggling with the can opener-like weapon) and smiled faintly, pleased at what he was seeing.

None of the recruits training there had really noticed Gavin, and the Captain and guards were quite used to him being around for things like this to sort of supervise and make suggestions. Everything seemed well in hand for now, and it was far too early to really test anyone to see what their potential was and where they would be best-suited. Sure, everyone had the MOS that they had joined intending to fill, but sometimes somebody exceptional would come along and Gavin would personally place them elsewhere... specifically if they were good enough for his space programs. Gavin smiled to himself, circling the trainees once more before heading back up the slope of the hill to return to his passion. This sword is turning out smaller than my normal... maybe I'll give it to Sorcha to play with.

The Silent King was approaching his forge and reaching out for his gloves, when something caught his attention. A reverberating sound that didn't seem to be distracting the new recruits, but was certainly drawing some attention to itself. "GAAAAH! WARUM? Gavin blinked. His fire and metal weren't going anywhere, and Gavin had little to worry about; his soldiers trained here. It would take some balls to attack the king in a place where it was common knowledge snipers were. He stepped away from the little shack, slowly approaching the source of the noise as it grew louder.

Much to his surprise was a boy, grunting, screaming and kicking at a large tree like it had eaten his grandmother. Well this was... Amusing at least. Gavin smirked faintly to himself, folding his thick arms over his chest and just watched unnoticed for a long moment before deciding to actually find out if there was a reason this boy was locked in the throes of mortal combat with an oak. Pulling his speech aid from his back pocket, Gavin began to type quickly and turned the volume up enough to get the boy's attention. The enunciated voice of the speaker came through the tiny speakers, the Creig language beautiful, oddly paced and sounding far-removed from most other languages. "Is there something I can help you with?" A blacksmith in a teeshirt and jeans with a talking device that looked like an iPod with a keyboard. Yup. Definitely what anyone would think of when they thought of the word 'king.' Gavin wasn't even entirely sure that the boy spoke Creig, and so waited patiently for him to respond so he could figure out if he could even communicate on his own with the tree-assailant.

[Guest]

Who was he to come by and interrupt his training? The tree was lucky as his next kick would of possibly destroyed he hoped anyway. It was annoying, was this man interrupting because he was going to make a fool of Ren. Was he here to tell him to stop? God, people just don’t leave me alone can't they see I'm training. Ren’s mind was jumping around like a little kid on one of those moon bounces. Each jump made his head pound. Maybe It was because he was do frustrated with this tree or just because he was just continuing to push his body to the limits, again..

The foreign words were hard to understand yet it sounded beautiful. Like a dance with its own beat. Could this possibly be the distant language of this land, Creig? The question raised thoughts in his mind as Ren stopped. Turning around he saw a male in a t-shirt and jeans. Over his clothes charcoal and smoke covered parts of it and Ren assumed he must have been a blacksmith. So the sounds I heard were what I believed them too be. Interesting…

Raising a hand in a non-threatening way, Ren said in a loud voice. “Hello, sir. You speak Amestrian?” Hopefully the man did so there was not going to be any language barriers to cross. However upon thinking about it for a second it was unlikely that the blacksmith did since Carraig was so distant from the mainland. Yet life was full of surprises so if he did Ren really wouldn’t be taken by shock. Walking slowly over to the blacksmith when did not want to seem hostile as Carraig was known for its military powers and the man looked like he knew a thing or two in combat.

He smiled with a warm look on his face as he approached the man. The gap between them just seemed to disappear within a matter of seconds as Ren sized up the man. He was clearly taller than him (just) however their body build was basically identical. “What’s your name sir?” Again as much as Ren didn’t like to be so polite to people he didn’t know he had to in order to seem non hostile. A fake mask was starting to be put over his face, covering his grace in a veil of deception. Well that was another lie he was always hiding a false mask by not knowing his real name however that did not matter at the current time.

“Do you speak Amestrian, sir?” He repeated his question just to make sure that the man heard him. Ren wanted to just leave and continue training however doing that was a bad idea. That’s when Ren thought of the perfect idea. I always need a weapon he thought. Maybe I could just use this blacksmith to get what I want. Ren smiled and waited for a response, hopefully his words were clear enough for the man to hear. He hoped anyway.

[Gavin Etheridge]

For a moment, the stranger in the dramatic battle with the tree looked slightly annoyed, and Gavin vaugely wondered if by interrupting him the tree was winning. If he were a recruit, he'd be down there with the others; even the laziest Creig knew where their duty lay and not to ditch their conscripted military service; sure there were ways to work around it and space it out over the years so you didn't have to do it all at once, but two years at once was better than ten years by most standards. So who exactly was this man, and why was he...

"Hallo, Sir. Sprechen sie Deutsch?" Aha. Foreigner. And Amestrian, at that... something Gavin personally was still learning. He already spoke several languages for himself getting by and for the sake of business and politics; Amestrian was a work in progress that thankfully he generally had Artemis there to translate for. Nothing like a popquiz to see how you're doing at least... Gavin took another glance at Ren, sizing him up. An assassin wouldn't have been dumb enough to march right into where the military trained to try and kill him; but the man didn't seem to be reacting to Gavin's presence at all, making him wonder if the foreigner even knew that the grungy man who had been attending his irons was the king. Oh this could be amusing, if nothing else. Very few people in the country didn't know who he was. "Wie ist dein Name?"

Gavin held up a hand, silently asking Ren to pause in his speaking as he approached. He remained relaxed, perfectly alert but genuinely not worried presently. Glancing down at his speech aid, Gavin tapped the buttons a few times and changed the program's speaking mode to Amestrian; he'd had Sorcha install it recently. Even though it couldn't translate what he was hearing, it would translate what he wanted to say well enough to at least convey his point. The good news was that so far the man who had a vendetta against foliage was at least speaking easy sentences for now. Now set to Amestrian, Gavin piked the keys, hoping what came out would at least be correct enough. "Sprechen sie Deutsch?

The automated voice resonated from the tiny speakers of the aid, the Amestrian heavy and less flowing than he'd have liked, the male speaking the words as though he weren't interested in saying them for the recording agency. "Hallo. Yes, I speak a little." Gavin inwardly winced at how forced the speaking voice was. He'd have to ask Sorcha if there was a more fluid-sounding option to download later, and gave Ren an apologetic smile. "I am James. Your name is what?" Seamus; his middle name, and hwat translated to James in most other languages. He didn't feel like telling the stranger he was Gavin just in case he put two and two together and was a threat after all. Gavin's hand with the aid lowered for a moment, watching and listening to Ren carefully to see what he would say and hoped he understood it enough without having to ask for an interpretor; Artemis would smack him for doing this right now, but he really didn't see hte harm in just saying hello. Especially since the man was on what was technically his property.

[Guest]

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