RP:In Preparation of the Titans of Winter Tournament 2017 - part 2

Synopsis: Rorin gets to work restoring the forge and creating a shield for Eirik. The end result is thusly named: Coerator

At the Holy Temple

-upon request Rorin takes Eiriks shield down to the Sage Forest where he can bestow a blessing upon it under his god, Arkhen-

Once he entered the holy temple Rorin felt the peaceful awe that had always comforted him. Before the statue of his lord he knelt and conferred a prayer. Soon the old priest approached.

"Young Rorin, you have returned to our temple, I see," the priest greeted, "tell me what ushers your return from your pilgrimage?" He had always been a kind though stern man whos guiding hands had brought many onto the path of light. Though that was years ago.

"Priest, I seek usage of our forge," Rorin quereed, "I have been asked by the brother of my beloved to bestow a blessing upon his shield. I have earned his respect and trust in this matter. He has offered donation and I seek his protection for the safety of my beloved."

The priest thought over the request, "Rorin the temple forge has not been lit in many decades. I understand that you seek you lovers heart, and though so young you are so respectful to treat her family so. But it is not so simple-" he gestured to Rorin to follow him through stone arches and halls, back to the different quarters of the temple. In an open room with skylights and vines that jad overtaken it with time there was a great cold forge, the anvil standing proud, tanks to cool in, and a coal stove to heat. There were grinding wheels and racks, storage bins, everything pristinely kept as if the vines themselves layered over to protect this place. "There you see," the priest pointed, "the forge has grown cold many years here. The metal is nearly gone, our holy supplies, empty, and our forge master, buried yonder. There is no one left to command it. Though there are a number of tomes left on the subject they are sadly written in mostly old dwarvish. Even those in sylvan are ancient and may crumble to the touch. My dear boy this llqce has been forgotten for an age. Take care, should you seek to revive it, the work that lays before you is not a simple task. If you should claim this place and make it your own learn these arts. Forever keep them in your heart. And perhaps one day this place will see the light of many hearts again." The priest left him to think there with plenty on the squires mind.

Rorin recovered the tomes which he had difficulty reading, as dwarven writing changed much over so mamy years, and the other tomes were difficult to hold in the least. It took him hours just to decipher enough to get the stove on. The char of holly and ash trees, the coal from mines of iron and silver ore. The tank had to be filled with holy water and oddly enough the vines simply moved away from the windows. He did not need much to bless the shield as it was already a well formed iron banded shield. Though what Rorin did read gave him some thought.

From the bushes outside the temple he plucked wild roses. From a hive he carefully extracted a vial of honey. It took nearly two hours to collect the right kind of fish, trading some to local dwarves for silver, wood varnish, and proper smithy supplies. Iron was easy though to bless it properly took time. It was past half a day before he was ready.

The forge renewed, his supplies not but basic, and his knowledge based on ancient tomes, Rorin could not imagine a more humble beginning- or rather a rebirth- for this place. For the art that could be forged.

With diagrams displayed Rorin took the shield before the sun touched the horizon and began his work. A veneer was needed to be applied, first a white paint, from the ash of holly trees mixed with silver shavings, applied with a chant to the shields face. A red equal lengths cross of rose and iron in it's center. The four points Rorin chanted over again and again, the sunlight burning through the temple walls, glowing hot about the shields rim, the paint dry in an instant. With care Rorin mixed and brushed the wood polish, honey, holy water, and a varnish from an ancient tree. As the sun dipped below the horizon a last flash ushered in Rorins prayer to the shield face. In the darkness it had a glow. It needed a name. Coerator. As it qas christened a sparkling glow shined across it's surface and Rorin felt a swell of pride. He felt he had done quite well. He only hoped Eirik thought it nice.

-Your Banded Shield has been changed into the Blessed Defender, Coerator! This shield carries a great blessing and was made within a holy forge. It protects against the undead, the unholy, and the darkest of magics. Though it is a holy shield it's power will not last forever and can be restored with time in intense light or a holy place. Those who act outside a righteous path will not see it's protection yet those who would wield it against great evils should see it shine as brightest day.-