Author's note.
First of all.
Oh my god. Thank you so much for the kind review on the last one. But I would have to revise the style before writing continuation of it. Like you said the way I wrote it was really confusing sometimes and while fun as one shot any continuation would have to be better thought out.
Now onto the new.
This is something I thought up this week. It is medieval AU with older Connie, older Steven, not Gem Gems and bunch of other stuff exists solely in my imagination right now.
I am leaving this In-Progress right now as I really like the idea and plan to write at least the conclusion of this meeting:D
Anyway hope you like it.
Thanks.
The day was hot.
Sun hung high in the sky scorching every surface it could find with its relentless rays. Ground was parched and crops were slowly beginning to wilt showing the effects of recent unexpected drought.
Few people would be willing to leave homes in such weather, but this being a rather smallish city located in mostly rural area meant its inhabitants did not have luxury of taking a break.
Not even the blacksmith.
Stifling warmth that tormented every brave soul wandering outside was nothing in comparison to the searing hotness of the smithy. And, yet even though most would deem the person working there mad, the steady sounds of work could have been heard since the break of dawn.
It seemed that no matter the circumstances the work of the blacksmith never ceased. And, that would have been true even without the monsters roaming the lands.
And that was only a drop in the bucket of problems their nation had, but one wouldn't be able to tell that judging by the people that inhabited this town.
They were strong, hardworking and honest like most folks working the land, but full of kindness and cheerful smile for each other, despite their own, often less than happy, circumstances. One such a brave, joyous fellow was heading towards aforementioned smithy right now. And, behind him in tow, gathering curious gazes, were three definitely foreign woman.
As different as they were from their surroundings they were equally different from each other. Even in height they bore no resemblance whatsoever, while tallest reached probably almost seven feet her companions were roughly foot and two smaller.
But, detailed descriptions will come in good time.
And we'll start with the man who led them, he was quite big fellow for example. While in height he was only five foot five, he more than justified use of those words with his overall look. And, it was not because of his bit overgrown stomach that he sported, but rather his overall „bigness". Big hands, with big fingers, big thighs and big arms, big head with big eyes, big hair and big feet, he was a bear all right. Yet, again he was a man of the land not a merchant and, while admittedly not in his best physical shape, still the strength was clearly there.
- "Steven, are you sure this "Connie" will be able to help us?"
And his name was Steven apparently.
Voice that spoke those words belonged to the middle one and was, while dignified, filled with incredulity as its owner examined the building they were standing before.
- "Well, I'm not sure she'll be able to 'help' help you. But she's very smart and kind and she's my best friend, so I'm sure she'll figure something out."
He flashed huge smile at the, now even more doubtful, woman before opening heavy wooden door and vanishing inside.
The trio exchanged uncertain looks before following suit.
The interior of the forge was dim.
Not only immense heat attacked the visitors of the smith, but any poor soul who wandered inside had to shield their eyes from sudden absence of light.
Considering, however, that the only source of it was the half draped window on the left side of doors, well it wasn't that bad actually.
Building they entered was solid stone with high wooden roof, uncommon combination in these parts, but usual safety measure for forges. The actual room was quite cluttered and even though neither Steven nor his companions bat an eye at this, apparently used to this kind of interior decorations, it is still worth mentioning.
Right next to the window stood anvil, two grinding stones, barrel and toolbox filled with various tools. But even the wall it resided in was utilized as well. Simple coat hanger placed on its left side was, however, empty at the moment.
Inspecting further in clockwise fashion one would see massive wooden table sprawling on the whole southern wall. That is the one opposite door.
It was made of solid oaken wood and radiated of sturdiness, but thanks to its considerable height and small width it managed to achieve appearance of sleekness.
It sported the same condition as every other space in the room. Filled with chisels, hammers, bending forks and other equipment of all sorts it could baffle how the owner was able to find anything. Though admittedly, this one was more visibly organized, with most of them neatly fitting into the wooden form that ran through whole length of the table, near the wall.
This does not mean that wall and ground were spared however.
Going from the left the floor layer was occupied by two racks filled to brim with tongs of various kinds and manner, followed by another anvil, strong looking woman and a slack tub near the opposite wall. Now going back the same way but considerably higher we would see even more tongs, brown hair cascading down in a long ponytail, horseshoes by the dozen and chains of various lengths and sizes.
And that is if we won't peek underneath the table.
But of course we glossed over the most important part. The one thing that no smithy could go without: that it is the forge of course.
It was located in the far corner of the room on the right side of the door. But anyone standing in that place would have to notice the impressive bellow first that, propped by two wooden columns, reached the waist height.
At least Steven waist.
His companions would certainly use different similes.
But let's focus our attention on the forge.
Bulky thing, a human height rectangle of stone extended even further up, steadily narrowing in the course of its ascend until its chimney pierced the wooden roof of the building.
Its interior was blazing hot.
Literally. Bright red of burning coal was drawing the eyes, hypnotizing with its vivid interpretation of rapid oxidation. And, even though from Steven's vantage point it was no more than flicker of light on the wall, making him unable to witness the true beauty of it, the tall woman prodding it currently with a poker was.
She did not seem to notice however.
Whether she was simply ignorant to such mesmerizing display, or years of training already burned this image into her mind, replacing splendor with routine we may never know. What we will witness however, is the following exchange.
- "Hi Connie. Are you busy?"
The woman stopped what she was doing and eyed the man that spoke. Something in his eyes told her that something is amiss however, as instead of greeting him she slapped her hand on her face and sighed.
- "Steven… What is it this time? Do you need another cast for troll?"
Her voice was more lighthearted than her demeanor would attest to. It could even be called playful if annoyed and cranky. It all changed, however, as the Steven's companions finally entered through the door.
Shock on the girl's face quickly morphed into anger and her brown eyes shrank as she eyed the unexpected guests. And, all her muscles tensed and I think we need to properly describe her.
So, let us focus on Connie.
Towering more than half a foot above Steven, she was tall girl. And "girl" was definitely not a word one would want to be caught saying in her presence. With broad shoulders and beefy arms and steel-hard muscles that would put to shame many a knight she was full-fledged woman, and she wanted to be treated as such.
Right now most of her impressive physique was hidden however, as her apparel consisted of long-sleeved woolen shirt and heavy leather blacksmith apron, along with brown, also woolen, pants and simple ankle-high shoes.
And red-hot poker in her hand.
Her face was young, but experienced with fading scar showing on the dark brown skin of her cheek. Wide, friendly smile was currently replaced by scowl and her two thick eyebrows were twisted in anger. Her rather large nose was there, doing whatever noses do in such situations, besides simply residing between the loveliest pair of chestnut eyes one would ever see.
Overall her happy face beaming with a warm smile had a friendly, but stern air about it.
But she was not smiling.
- "Who are you! Get out of here before I call guards!"
- "Good luck with that. This shit-hole doesn't even have guards."
The rude comment came from the smallest of woman. Intended humor did little to defuse the situation however. She may have possessed the shortest of bodies in the room, but the amount of weaponry that she lugged around would easily arm them all. And, with already nervous atmosphere settling in the room, it came out more as a threat.
But before anyone could do anything they regretted Steven stepped between them. Not that there was a lot of stepping to be done.
- "Wait!"
This brought Connie's attention to the pudgy man.
- "Steven! Who are they? Why did you bring them here? Are they coercing you?"
- "No! I found them in the woods and they needed help. But it was nothing I could do alone so I came to you."
This seemed to anger the woman even more. But at least with her attention concentrated on her friend it transformed slowly into mere annoyance. And, with this change of attitude so was changing the air.
- "Of course you wanted to help them! You're you! But just look at them, they could be bandits or worse!"
- "Oh, Connie it's alright. They can't hurt me in the forest. You know that."
- "You're not in the forest anymore Steven!"
As this exchange was going on and the woman chided her friend for his usual recklessness the middle one, height wise, observer asked in half whisper:
- "Do you think they remember we're here?"
Raising her chalk-white face so as to see the taller woman she directed her question at her.
- "And what did she mean or worse?"
All this resulted in, however, was nonchalant shrug which waved the raven-black shoulder-length hair she had. As for verbal acknowledgement a noncommittal grunt was all that she gave.
The spat seemed to be nearing its natural end, however, and the threat of attention once again drifting to the quests, loomed above.
- "Steven they are definitely not harmless. I mean look at them: smallest one is a walking armory, the middle one has a damn full plate and the last one is definitely a fighter, and is that…"
But then she seemed to notice something and her words faltered and another shock washed over her features. Suddenly her powerful hands started to tremble and her voice became weak.
- "Steven, what have you done?"