Gore gro-Gijakudob
Active Member
Well firstly, thank you for reading this far! This is my first attempt at a fan fic and any comments, positive or negative are equally welcome. The tale is hopefully the first of several based around the retired life of an Orcish Dragonborn who now lives and works as a smith on an isolated hill, his store is called "Weapons of Gore" and it being Valentine's I thought I'd start with a tale of romance. I hope you like it...
The young Breton climbed the hill, gasping for breath after such a long journey. What he saw was not at all the picture that his vivid imagination had painted. A small stone house surrounded by a smelter, a forge, a grindstone, a workbench, an anvil and a tanning rack. These were typical of any decent smith, but the addition of an arcane enchanter and Alchemy lab struck him as strange to say the least.
The grey skinned Orc hammering a piece of burning ebony was not so unexpected. Louis had heard of his immense stature from the townsfolk. Unsure of how to proceed with his request he took a deep breath and decided it was now or never.
"Sir" he said calmly. The Orc hammed three more strokes and then turned to the boy. "Yes lad, how can I help you?"
"I'm not sure you can, I am here to ask charity of you." The Orc wiped his sweated brow on his apron. "Charity? Well that beats a Daedra battle axe, what is it?"
There was something about the Orc, perhaps his mannerisms, perhaps the way his eyes were so bright but Louis immediately felt secure in the presence of the one who was once called 'Dragonborn'.
"Sir, I need a ring, an engagement ring."
"Now that is serious business." Said the Orc. "But I can craft any ring your heart desires."
Louis turned pale, " Legate Gore, I have fallen in love with the most amazing woman, I cannot sleep at night because she haunts my dreams!"
Gore smiled, "Good, and does this lady feel the same way?"
"I can't see how she could, she is the daughter of a Thane and I am a servant to the household. The coin I make goes back to my family so I am always dressed in rags, but the Thane always treats me kindly, even though I sometimes feel more like a fond pet than a human being".
"Human beings are overestimated" smirked Gore.
"I cannot lie to you sir, I have made up my mind to propose to the lady, but I need a ring and I cannot afford anything in the markets, I am willing to work every night here to pay for your skills, I can tidy up for you, cook for you, sharpen your tools..."
Gore laughed, "I cook in this houshold and my wife is fond of sharpening my tools so I have to decline your heartfelt offer. But I will tell you something, I have made wedding rings for noblemen, the finest gold and diamonds crafted with precision to decorate a lady's finger and never have one of those noblemen paid for the ring."
"They never paid you?" said Louis.
"They paid me in gold lad, but they never paid for the ring."
Louis was shaking now, this was his only hope. "I will pay anything" he said.
"Very well", said Gore, "meet me after sundown".
As the moons appeared in the sky, the boy returned and saw the Orc waiting for him with a wheel barrow, two torches and two pickaxes. "Come on, time for you to pay your first installment".
The trek to the mine was spent in silence but once the dark timber and howling of the wind from the pitch black mineshaft confrounted him, the boy felt that his short life was surely about to end. "Are you afraid?" Said Gore. "Yes" replied Louis. "Good, let's proceed".
The mine was like nothing Louis had ever experienced, every shadow cast by his torch was a demon, every distant drip was a calling for his soul, but still he pressed on. At last a large cavern opened up to them.
"First, find the iron ore", said Gore, you will know it when you see it, it looks like a Dwemer's vein. Touch the rock, let it speak to you. If it is meant to be your ring, it will tell you, if it is not, you will hear nothing. I will be working, you can find me by listening to the strokes of my pick."
The boy took his first steps into the shadows and began to look, moments later, the repetitive chime of iron on iron came echoing in the darkness. After an hour, Louis found his first iron vein, he almost shouted in joy but remembered what Gore had said. Slowly he placed his hand against the rock, it felt cold but there was no way for the boy to know what the Orc meant by 'telling him'. Freezing with the chill, he continued in his search.
Time loses it's meaning in mines as the old Smiths say. And it did for Louis. Yet after what seemed like days he laid hands on a vein and it felt warm, actually warm. "I've found it he cried!" and followed the sounds of Gore's pickaxe.
"Good, said Gore, now take the pickaxe and bring her home, watch how I extract the ore, it's not about power, it's about precision". Louis watched with complete attention but judging by the full wheelbarrow of ore that Gore had mined, he had his doubts that he could loosen his one ore deposit before the Orc would need to get a new wheelbarrow. Gore seemed to notice this and said "Don't worry, I'll wait, and pick at random rocks occasionally so you will find me."
The boy, now covered in sweat, finally pried the vein from the rock and followed the sounds of the pick back to the Orc.
“This is a nice piece of ore” said Gore, examining it in his hand. “But it tells me it has greater ambitions”, slowly a blue glow enveloped his hand and the ore changed from a dull gray, to a resplendent silver, then to a glowing gold.
“You can transmute?” said the boy. “Aye, as useful a tool as any pick” replied Gore. Louis was amazed, “ Then you could be rich!”
“I am rich lad, but not in the way that you would define it, gold is only of value to a merchant, to a smith, iron is worth more. Now, we have both worked hard today, I will rest tomorrow and so should you, meet me in two days and we will make your ore into a ring.”
The two days passed quickly for the excited young Louis and he hurried to the hill where Gore was waiting. “Your next job is to smelt the ore, this is not an easy task, but for gold, you should be all right, feed the chamber, test the temperature with your own body, keep it steady.”
Louis did as he was told and kept the coals burning at a steady pace, then gore took the molten gold and poured it into a simple ring shaped mold. “Now we drink a mead and wait for the ring to be born”.
After several bottles watching the rising sun, Gore said “It is ready” and took the perfect gold ring from the mold. The ring was simple but beautiful, no adornments, just a simple gold ring. Gore handed it to Louis. “What do I owe you for your kindness, Legate?”
Gore smiled, “I was a Legate a long time ago, call me Gore, and you owe me nothing, this ring is your own.” Louis took the ring and thanking the Orc in his giddiness, ran to his true love. Gore took a silver ingot from his blacksmiths pouch and placed some more firesalts on the furnace.
A week passed and the boy returned, morose of expression, he placed the ring on Gore’s anvil. “She declined?” said Gore’s familiar voice from the tanning rack.
“No Sir, I could not do it, I dared not ask her, I have failed the ring and my conviction”.
“Well” said Gore, “I have work to do and being pestered by a cowardly youth for the rest of my years is not what I or my wife would want. All right, give me the ring.” He took the ring to the arcane enchanter and a soul gem from his back pocket.
“No Gore!” shouted Louis, “I don’t want you to make her love me by magic, I simply want to return the ring!”
For the first time Louis saw the Dragonborn and not a Orcish smith. “Insult me by suggesting I would influence anyone’s free will again and you will be fueling this fire.” Then the moment passed and Gore spoke. “This is my wedding present, a fine enchantment, it is scarce known but powerful, it will not influence her, but it will give you the courage of the gods.” The ritual was completed, the soul gem destroyed, and the ring, looking very much like a normal gold ring, given back to the boy.
Two months later, Gore was invited to the grand wedding of Louis and enjoyed his time in the city, it had been a long time. During the festivities, Louis, flushed with joy asked him what potent enchantment could give such courage to a man. Gore shook Louis’ hand, took a swig of Argonian Ale and said, it was waterbreathing, kid.”
The young Breton climbed the hill, gasping for breath after such a long journey. What he saw was not at all the picture that his vivid imagination had painted. A small stone house surrounded by a smelter, a forge, a grindstone, a workbench, an anvil and a tanning rack. These were typical of any decent smith, but the addition of an arcane enchanter and Alchemy lab struck him as strange to say the least.
The grey skinned Orc hammering a piece of burning ebony was not so unexpected. Louis had heard of his immense stature from the townsfolk. Unsure of how to proceed with his request he took a deep breath and decided it was now or never.
"Sir" he said calmly. The Orc hammed three more strokes and then turned to the boy. "Yes lad, how can I help you?"
"I'm not sure you can, I am here to ask charity of you." The Orc wiped his sweated brow on his apron. "Charity? Well that beats a Daedra battle axe, what is it?"
There was something about the Orc, perhaps his mannerisms, perhaps the way his eyes were so bright but Louis immediately felt secure in the presence of the one who was once called 'Dragonborn'.
"Sir, I need a ring, an engagement ring."
"Now that is serious business." Said the Orc. "But I can craft any ring your heart desires."
Louis turned pale, " Legate Gore, I have fallen in love with the most amazing woman, I cannot sleep at night because she haunts my dreams!"
Gore smiled, "Good, and does this lady feel the same way?"
"I can't see how she could, she is the daughter of a Thane and I am a servant to the household. The coin I make goes back to my family so I am always dressed in rags, but the Thane always treats me kindly, even though I sometimes feel more like a fond pet than a human being".
"Human beings are overestimated" smirked Gore.
"I cannot lie to you sir, I have made up my mind to propose to the lady, but I need a ring and I cannot afford anything in the markets, I am willing to work every night here to pay for your skills, I can tidy up for you, cook for you, sharpen your tools..."
Gore laughed, "I cook in this houshold and my wife is fond of sharpening my tools so I have to decline your heartfelt offer. But I will tell you something, I have made wedding rings for noblemen, the finest gold and diamonds crafted with precision to decorate a lady's finger and never have one of those noblemen paid for the ring."
"They never paid you?" said Louis.
"They paid me in gold lad, but they never paid for the ring."
Louis was shaking now, this was his only hope. "I will pay anything" he said.
"Very well", said Gore, "meet me after sundown".
As the moons appeared in the sky, the boy returned and saw the Orc waiting for him with a wheel barrow, two torches and two pickaxes. "Come on, time for you to pay your first installment".
The trek to the mine was spent in silence but once the dark timber and howling of the wind from the pitch black mineshaft confrounted him, the boy felt that his short life was surely about to end. "Are you afraid?" Said Gore. "Yes" replied Louis. "Good, let's proceed".
The mine was like nothing Louis had ever experienced, every shadow cast by his torch was a demon, every distant drip was a calling for his soul, but still he pressed on. At last a large cavern opened up to them.
"First, find the iron ore", said Gore, you will know it when you see it, it looks like a Dwemer's vein. Touch the rock, let it speak to you. If it is meant to be your ring, it will tell you, if it is not, you will hear nothing. I will be working, you can find me by listening to the strokes of my pick."
The boy took his first steps into the shadows and began to look, moments later, the repetitive chime of iron on iron came echoing in the darkness. After an hour, Louis found his first iron vein, he almost shouted in joy but remembered what Gore had said. Slowly he placed his hand against the rock, it felt cold but there was no way for the boy to know what the Orc meant by 'telling him'. Freezing with the chill, he continued in his search.
Time loses it's meaning in mines as the old Smiths say. And it did for Louis. Yet after what seemed like days he laid hands on a vein and it felt warm, actually warm. "I've found it he cried!" and followed the sounds of Gore's pickaxe.
"Good, said Gore, now take the pickaxe and bring her home, watch how I extract the ore, it's not about power, it's about precision". Louis watched with complete attention but judging by the full wheelbarrow of ore that Gore had mined, he had his doubts that he could loosen his one ore deposit before the Orc would need to get a new wheelbarrow. Gore seemed to notice this and said "Don't worry, I'll wait, and pick at random rocks occasionally so you will find me."
The boy, now covered in sweat, finally pried the vein from the rock and followed the sounds of the pick back to the Orc.
“This is a nice piece of ore” said Gore, examining it in his hand. “But it tells me it has greater ambitions”, slowly a blue glow enveloped his hand and the ore changed from a dull gray, to a resplendent silver, then to a glowing gold.
“You can transmute?” said the boy. “Aye, as useful a tool as any pick” replied Gore. Louis was amazed, “ Then you could be rich!”
“I am rich lad, but not in the way that you would define it, gold is only of value to a merchant, to a smith, iron is worth more. Now, we have both worked hard today, I will rest tomorrow and so should you, meet me in two days and we will make your ore into a ring.”
The two days passed quickly for the excited young Louis and he hurried to the hill where Gore was waiting. “Your next job is to smelt the ore, this is not an easy task, but for gold, you should be all right, feed the chamber, test the temperature with your own body, keep it steady.”
Louis did as he was told and kept the coals burning at a steady pace, then gore took the molten gold and poured it into a simple ring shaped mold. “Now we drink a mead and wait for the ring to be born”.
After several bottles watching the rising sun, Gore said “It is ready” and took the perfect gold ring from the mold. The ring was simple but beautiful, no adornments, just a simple gold ring. Gore handed it to Louis. “What do I owe you for your kindness, Legate?”
Gore smiled, “I was a Legate a long time ago, call me Gore, and you owe me nothing, this ring is your own.” Louis took the ring and thanking the Orc in his giddiness, ran to his true love. Gore took a silver ingot from his blacksmiths pouch and placed some more firesalts on the furnace.
A week passed and the boy returned, morose of expression, he placed the ring on Gore’s anvil. “She declined?” said Gore’s familiar voice from the tanning rack.
“No Sir, I could not do it, I dared not ask her, I have failed the ring and my conviction”.
“Well” said Gore, “I have work to do and being pestered by a cowardly youth for the rest of my years is not what I or my wife would want. All right, give me the ring.” He took the ring to the arcane enchanter and a soul gem from his back pocket.
“No Gore!” shouted Louis, “I don’t want you to make her love me by magic, I simply want to return the ring!”
For the first time Louis saw the Dragonborn and not a Orcish smith. “Insult me by suggesting I would influence anyone’s free will again and you will be fueling this fire.” Then the moment passed and Gore spoke. “This is my wedding present, a fine enchantment, it is scarce known but powerful, it will not influence her, but it will give you the courage of the gods.” The ritual was completed, the soul gem destroyed, and the ring, looking very much like a normal gold ring, given back to the boy.
Two months later, Gore was invited to the grand wedding of Louis and enjoyed his time in the city, it had been a long time. During the festivities, Louis, flushed with joy asked him what potent enchantment could give such courage to a man. Gore shook Louis’ hand, took a swig of Argonian Ale and said, it was waterbreathing, kid.”