Days turned to weeks and then weeks to months. The training went on and the sergeant never let up. Soon enough near half of the starting group had quit. Now there were only about 120 recruits left. Today however was a day they had been waiting for. A day off! The recruits would be allowed to spend the day in the city.

After the last 3 months of training the recruits had put on some decent muscles and they could work together and fight to an extent. The biggest difference Dorian noticed in the legionary training and the training he had gone through with his father is that the fighting moves themselves were very simple.

Raise shield, Block to protect the person to your right. Stab to protect the person to your right. Always keep the person on your right alive as best you can. Take the opening the enemy leaves when he tries to kill your buddy. Stab at the opening, kill the attacker, Close formation. That was all there was to the legionary fighting methods. although very simple it was extremely effective.

Most of all it was built on the trust between you and your fellow legionaries. Protect each other even if you have to leave yourself open to attack. Even if you are open to attack your fellow legionaries will protect you. This fighting style although simple would require alot of willpower, discipline and stamina. This is wat the sergeant focused on building in them.

As thus the individual fighting capacities of the legionaries wasn't particularly high. Tough, Resilient, but not very skilled in fighting techniques. These are the words Dorian would use to describe the average legionary.

Today however they could go to the city. As the squad was dressing themselves in more casual clothes Dorian took a look at himself in the mirror. Dark eyes looked back at him framed with even darker hair. He had a rather rough jaw line that he had inherited from his father.

He wore a simple black shirt without sleeves, with a pants of the same colour. To not make the whole outfit seem to dark he had a yellow coulered braided string that he used as a belt and a leather satchel that he wore across his shoulders.

He took his fathers blade from the chest and fastened it to his back.His body build was rather stocky, lean and muscular. He wouldn't call himself overly tall, he probably topped out at 180 centimeters.

The biggest reason he didn't consider himself tall was because he had gotten used to Vor with his 2 and a half meters. "Any of you got plans for the day?" Dorian asked his friends looking around the room.

"Not really i can't go home to my family even if i wanted to, our nomadic tribe is hundreds if not thousands of miles to the south. Im thinking of just exploring the city for a bit." Blaitz answered.

"I have no prior engagements to uphold this day" Vor rumbled.

"None of us do i think, most of us dont have family or relatives living close by, and those that do, Namely myself, Damn sure dont want to see them" Gladiel answered

"Then shall we go through the city as a group? It would make seeing the sights a lot more fun" Dorian said. "Probably" he quickly added with a small smile.

" Sure, I for one have gotten so used to having you jolly lot around that it might actually feel strange to be separated." Gladiel said with a wide grin.

"I myself would feel more at ease with your company" Ístril told them. "I doubt my family has stopped their search for me." She continued visibly ill at ease about the topic.

"Not to worry princess!" Arin said giving her a pat on the back. The pat was a bit to hard as Arin was apt to do, knocking Ístril a few steps forward. "We ain't letting anyone take you from us, wat would we do without this here pretty lass!" She said encouragingly.

Ístril looked around at the group whom returned her gaze with a smile.

"Besides, I would like to see them try, Watching Vor smack them with those tree trunks he calls hands would be extremely amusing." Blaitz said with a wolflike grin.

The rest laughed at Blaitz's remark, the little jest putting Ístril at ease and improving the overall mood of the group. Once dressed in their clothes they headed out for the city for the first free weekend since the start of training.

Happily engaging in discussions and conversation the group headed over to the city. The walk itself took a couple of hours. After wat felt like the shortest of moments the group had arrived at the gate. It was funny how despite having been unseperated for the last 3 months the group still had an endless list of things to talk about.

Then they started to think about where they should go first. No one really had any good ideas so Dorian stepped up. "I've actually always wondered wat the big city blacksmiths were like, does anyone have an objection to seeing a weapon smith?"

Surprisingly the whole group seemed to be rather interested in going to see a weaponsmith. He guessed that now that they had been clad in armour and wielding the same shortsword night and day had gotten rather boring and that they would be interested seeing the different types of weapons and weapon quality that was actually available for purchase.

Dorian headed to one of the information kiosks placed around the city and asked for directions to a top quality weapon smith. The clerk, a rather cute aethling girl gave him a big smile and handed him a map showing him the ledger it had with the different sights and how they were marked on the map.

The clerk talked for longer than would be necesarry Dorian thought but he patiently waited for the enthusiastic clerk to finish her story. Smiling back patiently and every now and then bobbing his head in answer he listened to her tell him about the different blacksmiths in the city and which ones were famous and which ones had just started.

Eventually she started to talk about clothes and magical shops and a whole list of things. The group waiting on Dorian to get the map was getting impatient and Ístril put a hand on Dorians shoulder and asked him if he had found wat they were looking for.

The pretty clerk gave Ístril a long look before sighing deeply and handing Dorian a map, It seemed she had lost most of her enthusiasm when Ístril showed up. Then it suddenly hit him, the girl was flirting with him. How had he not noticed that, he had assumed she was just doing her job and took pleasure in the work.

Dorian sighed to himself. All that time in the legion had dulled his senses a bit. He had become so used to Arins playfully jests and Ístril's cold, but gracious charm that he hadn't even noticed the girl acting out of the ordinary. Shaking his head he returned to the group and told them there was a weaponsmith of some renown a little distance further in the city.

The group continued their walk down the crowded street following the directions on the map as they swerved their way throughout the city.

"Has anyone else noticed that we are harmonizing our pace." Gladiel suddenly piped up while he was looking at the ground.

The rest froze for a moment and then looked at each other and started laughing.

"Wow they really get you used to this don't they, i honestly hadn't even noticed i was doing it." Blaitz said with a grin.

"Now it also makes more sense that people were getting out of our way." Arin added.

Indeed it did add up. Without noticing they had been marching as a group. Moving two by two, even though they were talking to each other their harmonized pace and the way they moved the exact same distance from each other must have let the people in the street think they were legionairs.

"Well it does make for a faster pace so im not complaining!" Arin said with a jovial smile.

They continued walking to the weaponsmith keeping the same marching rhythm because there really was no reason not to. After a few more minutes of moving through the streets they found themselves at the weaponsmith. The Glorious Blades of Magnesius was the name of the rather large establishment.

Indeed the smithy itself was far larger than the one Dorian and his father worked in. There were atleast 20 smiths at work here at the same time. Multiple furnaces burned leaving the familiar scent of coal, iron and smoke in the air. The muscular and sweaty worksman of the smithy pounded away on their anvil the rings echoing throughout the street. This all happened to the left of the establishment.

It seemed the owner of this smithy was one of the people who thought that seeing a craftsman at work would attract more attention and clientel into his store. There was nothing to prove otherwise. The store itself had quite a few customers in it. All of them neatly clothed in fancy and colourfull robes.

The shine of gold on their wrists and fingers. The rich showing of their wealth, something which they so very proudly did. Gladiel rolled his eyes at all the wealthy merchants and lords and entered the store.

The store was filled with glass cases which held weapons. Racks of them had been added to the wall aswell. The glint of the light on all the different kinds of weapons gave the room a bit of a strange atmosphere. The reflected sunlight shining its spots all around the room.

The group moved to one of the weapon cases which held a decorated sword. The sword was a thin gleaming steel long sword. The pommel held a lion's head with rubies for eyes. A golden snake made for the guard with heads at both sides while the body of the golden snake also made for the hilt. Even the blade of the long sword was engraved and then filled with gold.

"Wow this is an amazing blade!" Blaitz exclaimed excitedly looking at it. "It is so beautiful, The way the gold shines in the light. It must feel magnificent to wield such a blade in battle."

The others nodded their consent looking at the majestic blade. "It is indeed quite a sight." Ístril said.

"Completely unpractical, the blade is flawed, the engraving is to deep and filling it with gold will unbalance the swing. The golden hilt will become slippery when the hand is sweaty and all that shiny gold will only attract unwanted attention. That blade would most likely break in half at its maiden battle." Dorian said looking at the blade with disgust.

The group stared at Dorian with their eyes wide. That was quite a harsh assessment of the blade. Nor had any of them ever seen Dorian with this kind of attitude.

"Lets go somewhere else, These weapons do not interest me." He continued turning to leave the store.

Before he could leave the store however a voice stopped him. "You have downgraded my weapon quite alot there boy!" The shopowner appeared. He was a medium sized Aethling who had a stomache that bulged over his belt. The man waddled over to Dorian and tried to look down on him in contempt.

However it was not very succesful due to the man being at least 15 centimeters shorter than Dorian.

"You have no eye for good work boy, This blade is a masterpiece and will be sold for more money than you will ever hold in those commoner hands of yours."

The harsh words caused Blaitz to step forward angrily to defend his friend. Vor and Gladiel stopped him before he could say anything. He looked at them questioningly, wondered why they would stop him from stepping up. Gladiel just shook his head at him and motioned to Dorian.

Dorians face was completely neutral, it seemed the words of the cocky weaponsmith had no affect on him at all. "I have seen hundreds of blades that were made better than these disgraceful weapons you dare call a masterpiece. I've made dozens of weapons more worthy to be called masterpieces than this." Dorian retorted

"HA! Dont confuse your farmer village smithing with the work of a real weaponsmith, boy. I will have you know that these weapons were made with imbued magic! Don't come into my shop talking like you know anything about creating works of art." The fat smith told him scornfully.

"My father has taught me about smithing, he is a master of the craft and the weapons he created would outdo yours easily." Dorian told the man.

"Hmpf, that hilbilly you call a father knows nothing, i bet he can hardly make a straight hoof to nail onto a cows foot. A degenerate like that has no business teaching anyone about the art of the forge." The man said with a cocky grin on his face.

Dorian froze, he looked at the cocky fat little man and his anger started to reach a level were he would no longer be able to contain it. Dorian decided to do something with it and stormed out the door to the smithy were the worksmen were still hard at work. He started rummaging through the equipment they had hanging on the wall looking for the right tools.

"HA! Are you going to show me that farmhand smithing of yours boy!? Be my quest but you will pay for the materials before you get to making a lump of metal you call a weapon!" He yelled at Dorian.

Dorian patted his pants looking for the money before he realised that he didnt;t have any money in his possession at all. Frustrated by the fact that he could no longer show the fat man wat he was worth he started pacing back and forth.

"So a peasant like you doesn;t even have money for the materials, you boy are a shame to any smith!" The weaponsmith insulted.

Gladiel couldn't stop himself any longer and stepped forward angrily, slamming down a bag on the counter that jingled with the sound of coins in it. "I will pay for my freind!" Gladiel announced staring the smith in his eyes. Dorian moved to stop him but Gladiel stared him down. "Just show him wat you can do Dorian!"

Dorian nodded his head and went back to the wall with equipment picking up individual tools and weighing them in his hands.

"So you need to resort to begging to get anything done at all, completely pathetic these country folk." The Weaponsmith said continuing to insult Dorian.

This time it was Vor that stepped forward. "It would be in you best interest, to refrain from uttering any further words" He rumbled at the weaponsmith. The fat mans face turned white at the hinted threat in Vor's words. No one sane would look for a fight with an Entman, Their combat capabilities were legendary.

Dorian was now weighing hammers, he picked up one hammer after the other and frowned. Somehow these hammers just didn't feel right in his hands. One of the worksman had noticed the frown and stepped forward.

"Cant find a hammer you would like to use?" The workman offered with sincere curiosity. Dorian shook his head.

"They are all to light, not the kind of hammer i am used to wielding."

"Wait for one minute." The worksman told Dorian before walking into the shop to the back and returning with a hammer, the material used to make the head of this particular hammer was a lot darker than those of the other hammers. "Perhaps this would do?" He said offering the hammer to Dorian.

The fat weaponsmith looked to be in anguish when the worksman handed the hammer to Dorian. He wanted to stop Dorian from taking the hammer but the look of Gladiel and Vor standing close by stopped him.

Dorian took the hammer in his hands, the hammer felt heavy, firm, solid. It felt so familiar in to his hands. "Its perfect!" Dorian said with a smile. "Thank you" he said to the worksman.

"Dont thank me yet young man. You still have a weapon to make." He said with a friendly smile on his face.

Dorian nodded and put the hammer on the counter with the other tools he would be using in the process. He took some simple steel ingots from the pile of materials and put them in the furnace whilst pumping up the heat. Once the steel melted he got the mold and carefully poured the molten steel in.

He then allowed the steel to settle into the form and then waited patiently for it to cool. Once the molten steel had solidified again he carefully picked it up with his tongs and put into the furnace. He reached for the bellows to up the heat again but big rough hands stopped him. The worksman that had gotten him the hammer smiled at him and started working on the bellows slowly but efficiently pumping the air into the furnace to up the heat.

After a while Dorian took the steel out of the furnace again and put it on the anvil. Uptil now everything had been done the same as any smith would have done it. But now things turned interesting. A chill went through the crowd that had come to watch the affair. Alot of people had apparently heard about the fight between the weaponsmith and the commoner and had come to look.

The other worksmen however were not paying attention till now. After all they had work to do and money to earn. A farmerboy using the forge would not keep them from their work. That was atleast until Dorian started striking the steel.

The first hammer strike a clear sound of collision rang through the workspace. Then Dorian started humming a song. Something he never noticed that he did, he always started humming when he was in a trance. His father had noticed however that whenever Dorian fell into this trance and starting swinging his hammer to the tunes the weapons he created were top-notch.

Striking the redhot steel with his hammer his pacing started to harmonise with the song he was humming. That was not all however, Dorians eyes started to emit a red light. The sparks erupting from the steel went from orange to a deep, dark crimson. Soon enough Dorians humming increased in volume untill the viewers could hear nothing else except the song.

They aswell were starting to be entranced by the song, the worksmen dropped their tools to look on at wat Dorian was doing. People that walked through the nearby streets started to crowd around the smithy to look at wat was going on. Interested by the sound the crowd kept increasing. As the crowd increased so did the volume of Dorians song.

Then the song hit its high and sent a wave of chills through the crowd making their skin crawl. The song turned deep, it sounded like a moving avalanche or a thousand bumblebees moving throughout the air. The air itself became thicker and thicker untill it became harder to breathe. But still the onlookers could not bear to leave the spectacle.

Dorian made the finishing hits on the blade then started to attach the hilt, guard and pommel using simple steel and leather. He was completely oblivious to the entranced crowd.

Suddenly without warning the song stopped and Dorian put his blade on the counter showing it to the people around him. The blade itself would have seemed like any other usual blade if there didn't seem to be a dark crimson glow in the steel. The sword just felt like death would come soon for the people looking at it.

Then Dorian spoke up looking the Weaponsmith in the eyes. "The creation of a weapon is not the art of making a masterpiece, It is the birth of an instrument of death." His words rang through the crowd shocking them to silence. Even the cocky weapon smith had no words to counter with this time.

"I would like to buy that weapon!" An onlooker suddenly yelled. "I'll offer you 10 gold pieces!"

"10? That is blasphemous! I offer 20!"Another onlooker yelled. "I offer 30!" Yet another yelled.

The onlookers soon went into a fullfrenzied auction everyone screaming their offers. The worksman who had helped Dorian out soon quited the lot of them and created order. He started selling the weapon as if he were a professional auctioneer.

In the end the sword sold for a staggering 780 gold coins. The amount was insane. The buyer rushed to the bank to come back with the coins handing a Dorian a few slates would could be traded at the bank for their worth in coins. Dorian somewhat surprised took the slates. He and his group then took their leave and left the smithy without any further ado. Dorian made sure to thank the worksman who had been so helpful before he left.

"You sure know how to pick a fight with the wrong people, Slukil" The worksman told the weaponsmith.

"But grandmaster Yigril, how was i ever to know that the boy had such astounding talent." The man hurriedly replied.

"You weren't, I expect however that you just had a shout-out with the son of Rorun Liftfuor. I would recognize that method of smithing anywhere."

The Weaponsmith's face turned a deadly white when he realized who exactly he had been insulting just now.

I had alot of fun writing this chapter, I hope you guys like it! And to the guy who gave me a 3 star rating. You broke my heart man [th_0g.gif].

If you give me that low a rating atleast tell me why so i can improve it.