Waiting for his meal to arrive, Arislan reached into his chestplate and pulled out a small white handkerchief. He tediously began to polish and dust his golden helm making sure to get into the crevices. He cursed Raiden under his breath as he did this. That horse needs to learn to show some respect, he thought. Arislan raised the stallion himself and was beginning to believe he had spoiled the horse. It wasn’t until his meal arrived that the ruckus outside made its way to Arislan’s ears. The swift clang of blades echoed through the door of the bar. A blacksmith hard at work no doubt, but the sound didn’t feel right to Arislan. It didn’t at all resemble the resonance of the familiar hammer against metal. Arislan took a deep breathe and released an annoyed sigh as he reached into a pouch hanging by a string at his waist. He paid for his meal and reached for his helm, deciding not to put it back on and headed towards the exit, helm in arms.
Once out the door Arislan looked around for Raiden who was no longer at the trough. Arislan released another annoyed sigh and started to peer around for the cause of the commotion. A reflection of light hit his eyes by a small haystack. Arislan squinted at the metallic source and slowly and calmly made his way towards the shine. Unsurprised and curious, Arislan took a knee and reached for the source, a broken blade. It was the end of a longsword and a dull one at that. The steel was fine and shone like a mirror, the craftsmanship was incomplete but the metal had great potential. Arislan held the metal in both hands parallel to the ground as he took a look at the severed end of the blade, opposite the point. He quickly came to a conclusion that the blade was not broken by any blacksmith’s hammer but by another’s blade. Arislan stood, looking around and dusting the dirt from his knee when he realized the eyes of the people in the market. They all seemed to be looking towards the blacksmith, a circle forming around the workshop. He knew this was the only blacksmith in the village but when did everyone need weapons, he thought slowly making his way towards the crowd. Arislan smiled at the reaction he got from the first villager he tapped on the shoulder. He nodded to Arislan, eyes wide and stepped aside, pulling his son along with him. Arislan patted the boy in the head and winked, placing a hand on another villager’s shoulder; a woman this time. When she turned around, Arislan immediately recognized her as the owner of the grocery kiosk at the entrance of the market. He smiled at her as well as her companion who also turned and stared wide-eyed at the knight.
By this time Arislan stood at the middle of the crowd, staring over the heads of a butcher and a herdsman. To his surprise he could see a strangely attired young woman, a sparkle of light reflecting from some kind of head ornament Arislan had never seen before. The chiming of bangles on her wrists reminded Arislan of a jester’s bells. He blinked out of awe and cleared his throat, looking around at the growing crowd. Releasing yet another annoyed sigh, Arislan gently pushed aside the butcher and herdsman, “Return to your shop and herd,” he said to them looking at the frightened blacksmith. “Now, now people!” Arislan spoke loudly but refrained from shouting. He trusted the townsfolk knew it was wise to be silent when a knight of Ethra addressed them. “Please retire to your homes and return to your shops!” Waving his one free hand in the air in a shoving motion, “There shall be no bloodshed here today! Not with the Knights of Tantalus on the watch! Please return to your business!” The crowd slowly dissipated whispers going quiet.
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