A/N: This was an idea I've had for a long time, but I wasn't sure as what to call it. Well, until I listened to some of my Blue Sky Black Death music, that is. Here's how this one came to be.
Artist: Blue Sky Black Death
Album: Noir
Song: Swords from Driftwood.
The King paced in his royal bedroom. He needed a new weapon. A weapon more powerful than anything else. A weapon only he could have the privilege to wield. A weapon that would truly be his.
'My old Hero Sword shattered in my last major fight. I need something that can endure long use,' the King thought. He continued pacing, unsure as what to do.
His old Hero Sword was a very powerful weapon, and it had lasted him quite some time. However, when he fought the Crawler, the blade had shattered after the last strike, the metal splintering into shards. Even that major victory came at a price.
"What to do, oh what to do?" he muttered. His dark eyes were filled with concern, for if he didn't have a good enough weapon, he would die sooner than he planned.
The King heard footsteps behind him. Turning around, he saw it was one of his royal guards Clarence. The man saluted at the doorway of the royal bedroom, "My King, permission to enter."
The King nodded, "Permission granted. Come on in Clarence."
Clarence stepped into the bedroom, "My King, Driftwood is discovered to hold a certain ore, an ore that forge some of the strongest metals. This would be a perfect chance for you to get a new sword."
The King stopped. Why didn't he think of that earlier?
Driftwood was a camp just south to Millfields, and it was mostly uninhabited. Only the few hippies were scattered throughout the chain of islands. On the islands though, there were several mines going through to find if there are any valuable metals.
Now though, it seemed a new metal has been discovered on the island chain, a metal that was very strong.
'Talk about perfect timing,' the King thought in relief. He dismissed Clarence, "Thank you Clarence. I shall leave immediately."
The guard left, leaving the King alone. He grabbed what weapons he did have and made his way out of the castle.
As he walked through the streets of Bowerstone Market, loud cheers from the townspeople filled his ears. Not only had he saved Albion from the Crawler, but he had managed to save nearly all of his people in the process. He was their Hero for sure.
A barmaid waved him over, "Your Majesty! Would you like to sit down for a pint?"
The King shook his head, "Sorry, but not right now. I'm afraid I have some business to do in Driftwood." He walked across Bowerstone Bridge, the soldiers saluting as he passed, "My King."
The King always gave the respectful gesture back, "At ease soldier."
He walked down the bridge before entering Millfields. The posh neighborhood of Bowerstone was filled with aristocrats, and the rich. While it did have very low crime rates, the people weren't exactly the friendliest, even after the King gave the order to declare Bower Lake as under royal protection.
Still, this was the same class of people who donated generously to the cause for the kingdom's defenses in a crisis. Although the last one was a while ago.
Shaking his head, the King walked down the path towards Bower Lake, alert for any hostiles. Because of Millfields' affluence, many mercenaries have targeted the area, robbing many people.
But this time, there were no mercenaries. Oh no. this time, it was something much worse. Balverines.
"Oh great," the King groaned. Balverines were werewolves, people who can change into wolf-like monsters. They were powerful opponents, but not too clever. Kinda predictable. The King sighed, pulled out his rifle, and started to pick them off from a distance.
It only took a handful of shots before all the Balverines were dead. The King put his weapon back across his back and continued, going up the hill to cross the bridge.
The path to Driftwood cut through about a quarter mile of forest, mostly uninhabited. Once he reached the far end of the path, he could see the islands, connected by small wooden bridges. On one of the island mines, that mysterious ore he had heard about was waiting. Waiting for him to forge it into an unbeatable weapon. A weapon that will be known throughout time.
The King crossed a rickety bridge, looking down at the water underneath him.
'It would really suck if I fell in,' he thought. The last thing he wanted to do was get his royal suit drenched, especially in these waters. The last thing he wanted was a headline in the Albion newspaper, 'King Falls in Sea'. Talk about embarrassing.
He crossed the bridge on to one of the islands, and it wasn't long before he found a mine in the center. He entered, and he was prepared to see the ore.
The metal wasn't quite what he expected. The King expected something dark, cruel, and strong, much like his power sometimes. He wasn't a tyrant, but he was harsh on punishments occasionally.
The metal was a beautiful light blue, almost like a calm sky. He picked the metal up, and it glowed in his hands. The light blinded him, bright enough to light up any darkness. It faded to reveal a weapon unlike any other.
The handle was jewel encrusted, with 'The King of Albion' engraved on it. At the end of the handle was a small gold star. The blade itself was long, almost black in color, with a slightly twisted curve. Whoever ended up on the wrong side probably wouldn't live to tell the tale.
He picked it up, "This is fantastic!"
The King twirled the sword in his hand thrice before placing it across his back, pleased with it. He left Driftwood, returned to his castle, and remembered that swords from Driftwood are something else entirely.
A/N: Shit, for something that was originally going to be a comedy one-shot, this turned in the opposite direction. Um, oops I guess? Anyways, leave your comments, criticism, whatever you want. I'll see you on the flip side. Review?
Ja