Rough Hands. [Solo]

[Vanos Strongarm]

30, Fall 511AV A perfect way to work out aggression, for the Isur, was to deplete his body of all energy. To work his body to the point of fatigue, and push it further and past that edge until he would be unable to form a coherent thought, then sleep like a hibernating bear that evening. The morning after, Vanos would feel refreshed - sore - but refreshed at having focused his energy into something physical and expending it in that fashion. But this evening was different for Vanos as his hand gripped the handle of the weight. His large fingers wrapped tightly around the metal shaft, his knuckles were white (as white as his Isurian flesh would allow) as the weight was lifted up from a ninety degree angle. Vanos was seated on the work bench in Jerzy's work room, lifting the heaviest weight that the blacksmith had to offer. Vanos was slightly concerned at the "range" of weights that were at his level - every damn one of them was the heaviest that the human had to lift. Perhaps Jerzy would know where he could get something heavier, stronger and more of a challenge so Vanos would continue to build new muscle instead of remaining at the same "intensity." The rep was finished, the set was done and the weight was still curled tight in his hand. The burning sensation, that feeling of pushing past the point of fatigue to push his body - to force it - to build more muscle was achieved. Vanos knew that he pushed his body further than he should have as he worked every part of his body that he could in the small weight room of Jerzy's modest home attached to the 'smith shop. By the end of his exercises, Vanos should be exhausted. The fibres of muscles in his body should be aching for rest, his stomach should be growling for food - for protein - to build the muscle that his body requires. Vanos didn't feel that way, he didn't feel tired or hungry; he wanted more, he needed more exertion and more work. Something deeper than a material for food hunger was grumbling in his mind. Vanos spotted the still warm forge just outside the door to the weight room and let out a grunt as he carried the weight back to the rack and went over to the forge. The shirt that Syllke had made for him was awkwardly tugged off his body and left on a counter by the door to the forge. It was convenient for Vanos to live with Jerzy with such a close proximity to the forge; Vanos was able to use it whenever he needed to, either for his own projects or to let off some steam. The intense heat of the flame was something that made Vanos feel at home. Despite the long distance between Denval and Sultros, when his hands were in the flame and his fingers manipulating near-liquid metal, he felt as if he was surrounded by his own people. By his own kind, instead of some weird, Denval-variation of humans with their odd customs and their odd ways of speaking. There was this letter in their language that they tried to get Vanos to speak, this letter that looked like two letters stuck together, or an M upside down. The sound of that word Vanos was unfamiliar with, and every word near that (such as Rs) suffered from the same mispronunciation by the Isur. Unfortunately, when Vanos was trying to understand the rapid-fire Common and tried to speak, to question, to ask - he would grow more and more frustrated and end up speaking with a thicker and more difficult to understand accent, which simply made things worse. Vanos was thankful that only two people he was aware of in Denval could speak in his native tongue - he said many words in his own language that would surely get a frown from Izurdin. Vanos pulled the blade from the fire and slammed his fist into the hot metal against the anvil. The strength required to do such an act - even for a human blacksmith - was tremendous and draining, no weak man or woman would ever survive being a blacksmith. The muscles under Vanos' grey flesh rippled and flared as he pounded on the metal, undulating muscles with the thick and darker veins pressing up against the surface of his skin. His face was contorted into a scowl as he pounded his frustrations into the metal as his eyes noticed the smallest of deviations from being a straight sword as it should be. That slight curve in the blade was not what Vanos wanted so he dipped the blade back into the intense heat, as a wave of flame and burning heat rushed against his face and upper body. His torso was free from any clothing; he didn't want to ruin the shirt that Syllke had made for him. Vanos knew that all it would take is one day near the forge and the shirt would be blackened, burnt and smelling of forge forever. There was no way to fully wash that out of ones clothes, especially if the flesh was dipped in that heat on a daily basis. Jerzy had been kind enough to provide Vanos with a more than adequate place to wash himself off after a hard day's work. He even spotted some funny smelling oils that Vanos could only assume were made from some flowers. What did Jerzy use those for? To make his hair smell like a rose garden?

[Vanos Strongarm]

The blade, after several attempts at correcting the curvature, had finally bent the way that Vanos wanted. There was no use in this sword being less than perfect and he hammered away on the hot rod of metal with his fist as hard as he could. Again and again until it got the desired shape that he wanted, but there was still plenty of work to do before the metal rod would be anything that could be used to ward off an enemy or slice open an envelop. A warmth in Vanos' dominant arm grew from within, under the mark of his god. Vanos was unaware of that warmth and of that glowing strength as that larger arm and that thick hand pounded against the metal as he worked it over and over again, folding the metal to make it stronger, harder, and thicker. He was unaware of the power of his gnosis and this connection with his god as the heat from the flame and the forced-blankness of his mind pushed out any thoughts other than the immediate and the required thoughts that he had to think of to keep his mind focused on the task at hand. Vanos' mind pushed away thoughts of a certain man in his life, a certain man that had been nothing but kind and generous to him and Vanos did nothing more than stumble and stutter in reply. What sort of a response was blushing and shifting subjects? His experience with courting both genders in Sultros was next to nothing; Vanos was focused on learning all he could from his elders and all the skills of the forget that he needed to be a good blacksmith, with room to become an even greater one as he grew. Not only was the situation completely awkward for the Isurian, but he had no idea if there were different customs for those in Denval or even those that were of the race of the man that had been kind to Vanos. For all he knew he would have to do some snow dance and sing in order to woo the other man - neither of those Vanos knew he was capable of. Create a sword out of a piece of metal with his bare hands, he could do that. Pull a stubborn tree stump out of the ground with nothing more than a rope tied around it, Vanos could do that. Consume all the food he could get his hands on, claiming that it was due to his post-workout hunger, Vanos could do that. But talking and admitting his feelings to another person that he fancied was something that was beyond his simple skills and simple comprehension of Common. The concentration required for Vanos' job was considerable, but when his Gnosis tickled under his skin and he could feel the power of Izurdin surge through him, that required more energy on Vanos' part. It wasn't until Vanos' hand missed the metal and it clanged against the cold part of the anvil that Vanos was aware of the engagement of his gnosis in the process of creation. The tendrils of the tattoo burned with heat that was more intense than that of the forge, hotter than Vanos had ever experienced, but it was a heat that produced no pain. Vanos gave a small smile as he felt relieved to know that Izurdin was working through him and hopefully once he had completed his project Vanos would be rewarded with the patience and tolerance that he desired.

[Legion]

Moderator Interruption The cold part of the anvil upon which Vanos' hand had fallen began to bubble. It softened and popped, releasing little puffs of steam like miniature volcanoes as if it possessed a far lesser iron content than the Isur knew it did as fact. Wisps of steam needled up, straight as the length of any sword and sharpened in the flickering light of the forge. A ringing like that of a blade hissing across a whetstone sang in Vanos' ears, piercing his skull and filling his mind with a pearl fog. It snapped and broiled, impatient and faithless, seeping the same in emotional form into his soul. The anvil began to smoke beneath the resilient weight of his fist and the red firelight threw itself against his sight like a reflection of that rage festering within him. A sudden thrust of energy suffused Vanos, shoving adrenaline through muscular limbs, alien and impossible. It turned the taste of the steam and smoke to something wondrous and holy, but as the anvil ceased to broil it became apparent that all of Vanos steadfast efforts in forgery were to waste. The sword was a ruin and his body still strained with strength unspent. OOCCourage, man! You win the prize of being the first to use gnosis this season. Happyface! This interruption is concluded. Proceed.

[Vanos Strongarm]

Vanos wasn't sure what he just witnessed; was it a trick of his mind? When he placed his fingers on the anvil it was no longer the rough surface from the result of years of blacksmiths using it for their work, but indeed had the "results" of it being partially liquefied at one moment in time. His fingers touched the very real surface, the surface that Vanos could have sworn was bubbling and steaming like it was boiling soup. But now everything was ... the way it should be. The metal rod in his hand was now a disappointment, nothing that would be worthy of saying it was made by an Isurian. He took in a deep, steady breath as he threw the piece of metal into a pile of scrap metal and looked over to the heat of the forge. Vanos stepped over to it to cease the flame inside and calm the fire within, while the rage inside his own mind grew. The Gnosis, the mark of his god that stood for patience, strength and industry provided Vanos with nothing. If anything once his Gnosis was used it exasperated the feelings that were already deep in his soul, without soothing them by a small fragment of presence from Izurdin or the relaxation that came from overworking his body. His outlet this evening was not going to be the forge, there was nothing else that he could construct there that evening. His mind was not clear enough to focus on anything that required that much effort. What would he be able to do relieve steam, now that both of his outlets had failed him? Once the forge was calm once more and cooling down, Vanos made his way through the shop and pushed open the front door out into the street. It was late in the evening and not a soul was around that he could see, other than the odd guard here and there that were making their rounds. The shirtless and scowling Isurian stood in the middle of the street with his eyes closed as he let the cool air of the evening fill his lungs. It brought little peace to his mind. Why wasn't Izurdin there when he needed him? Vanos had never personally met his god face to face - the mark on his arm had been enough for Vanos to realize that his god knew him and cared for him and loved him. When Vanos needed him the most, when he needed that patience and that strenght he got nothing but a slap in the face from his god. Vanos inhaled the cold night air and a growl caught in his throat as he exhaled and looked around him. When he opened his eyes, Vanos spotted a tiny little visitor in the street with him. It was a small Denvali child, couldn't be older than four or five, that was dressed in nothing more than his night clothes and a little teddy bear in his hand. The child looked absolutely terrified, as Vanos was quite certain that the child heard the grey-skinned man growl like a bear in the middle of the deserted street. The Isur looked both ways down the street to see if the child belonged to anyone and saw no one around him. Had the child merely fallen from the sky, like those humans with the horns that change shapes according to the sun and the moon? "Vhat are you doing here?" Vanos said in his deep, gravelly voice which was by far the most pleasing and reassuring voice to a small child. His eyes seemed to grow out of fear as Vanos stood there. Instead of scowling - an automatic response for the Isur - he smiled and stepped over to the boy and bent down on one knee so he could be at eye level with the little kid. Vanos briefly glanced at the bear clutched against his chest before looking back to the kid's eyes. "You and teddy should not be outside this late. Not safe for little Denvali vhen little is outside. Vhat is your name?" Vanos said, then paused. He placed his hand on his chest as he gave the kid another smile. "I am Vanos. You tell me your name, and vhere your house is. I take you home." The hand that was on his chest moved and outstretched to the child as he hoped that he would take it. Vanos wasn't sure where the apartments or houses were that the child was from, as for all he knew the child could live right in front of the shop that Jerzy owned.

[Vanos Strongarm]

"Gale." The child replied, simply and without a quiver of fear in his voice, despite the fact they looked like they were about soil themselves. Vanos chuckled to himself and thought about how even though the human Denvali looked absolutely terrified it was still putting on a brave face. This kid was no doubt a thoroughbred Denval resident with a strong backbone, even at such a young age. "Gale." Vanos repeated and stood back up to his full height as he held his hand out for the boy's hand. "You show me vhere your house is, I take you back." The child didn't move and Vanos was confused as to why it wouldn't obey such a simple command. The child appeared glued to that one place on the street and didn't want to move a muscle. Vanos furrowed his brow in thought at the boy as he looked back down to his feet to make sure that there wasn't anything wrong with him. Perhaps the weirdness that happened at his anvil had also glued the child into place? "You valk vit me, show me how to get back house," He looked to the teddy bear and smiled back to Gale. "Teddy doesn't vant to stay out in cold, does he?" The child shook his head and reached out his smaller hand for Vanos' larger hand while his other arm held the teddy bear against his chest, holding onto it for dear life. As they walked around one of the corners of the blocks in Denval in the middle of the street, the howl of a dog in the distance made Gale cling right up against Vanos' left arm - the child was petrified. Vanos looked down to him and tried to give him a reassuring smile. "Just dog howling, nothing to be scared of. Dog is probably vanting snack. Isur and little Denvali are not on menu." The child listened to the words but remained immobilized. Then, slowly but surely, both of his hands raised up as he looked to the Isur with wide eyes. The teddy bear was held in his hand with one hand as both of them were reaching up to the Isur in a classic sign that he wanted to be picked up. Vanos wasn't completely unaware of childcare and bent down with a gruff grunt and held the child delicately against his left side, his arm providing a strong support for Gale. The boy wrapped both arms around the Isur's body as tight and as far as they could reach around him while his head rested against his bare shoulder. "You're cold. And tough. You feel like a rock." "Isur skin different than Human skin. Tougher. Harder. Isur arms go in forge fire, Isur arms used for strong things. Human arms not so strong." Vanos said as he reached his hand around and gave Gale's little bicep a gentle squeeze. He giggled, but hid it under his teddy bear. "Humans made for different things." "Oh." Gale replied and kept his head down but still managed to direct Vanos to where he needed to go. Gale didn't appear to live that far from the blacksmith's shop as just around the corner and up a few more houses was the one with all the lights on and a woman sitting on the porch of her house. The second that she saw the Isur walking down the lonesome street with something at his hand, she stood up from her chair and bolted off the porch and down the street to who the Isur was accompanying with him. "Gale!" She screamed out as Vanos set the child back down on the ground. He took a few quick steps up to greet his mother and she scooped him up from the ground and gave him a big hug. Vanos could barely understand anything that was spoken between them - it was a mix of the Common that he knew along with some other words that didn't sound just right. He had heard the language before when other Denvali had spoken to each other but thought it was just fast pace Common or some sort of human rhyming slang. "Thank you so much for bringing Gale home!" The woman said as she let the boy down to the street. Her arms reached out for Vanos and hugged him around the shoulders, his face perfectly at level with the place on a mother's body that an infant becomes intimate with during their first few months in the world. Vanos let out a curt grunt and wrapped his right arm around her body, giving it a gentle pat as he looked up to her with a smile. "Vas down by shop, saw him and thought should find house. Outside not place for little Denvali to be playing. Not at night." Vanos said in a somewhat condescending tone, as he thought that it was the mother's fault for letting her child wonder in the streets. She smiled and just shook her head at him while she ushered Gale back into the house. "He was spooked by something in his room and ran out the door. Why he didn't find either of us is a mystery - it just happened less than half an hour ago! I swear! We wouldn't let our child run out in the streets, Mr. Isur." Vanos kept looking up to her as he ran his hand over his face, hoping that it wasn't such an overt action as to make her wonder the true source of the gesture. He nodded his head to her as he spotted Gale stop in the doorway and look over to Vanos with a little smile. "Thank you, cold Vanos. Sleep with lots of blankets. Get warm." Gale paused for a moment in the door then hurriedly ran inside.

[Vanos Strongarm]

Vanos said his good byes to the Denvali woman and another hug from the woman in which he was pressed against part of her body that he didn't enjoy the first time around. He gave her a polite smile, however, and continued on back down the street back to Jerzy's shop and to his home. Vanos was lucky to have met the blacksmith and that his generosity was vast. He was quite patient with Vanos and the particulars that the Isur had when it came to learning certain techniques from the human, and in turn Vanos was patient when he was teaching Jerzy certain, risky techniques that he learned as a child back in Sultros. Not that Jerzy would be able to fully use every skill that Vanos showed him unless he was able to make some very nimble glove that could keep the delicate human hand safe from the heat of the flame. Until that day would come, the Isur would at least have a purpose at that place in Denval. The shop door was still open when Vanos got back but he wasn't worried that anyone was going to drop into Denval and steal anything while he was gone. From what Vanos had witnessed of Denval it was a safe human settlement that he wouldn't need to feel threatened within. Sultros wasn't known for its crime, either, but there were rumours of some human cities being nothing but lawless tomfoolery and murder - cities that Vanos never wanted to visit. His fighting skills were paltry compared to those that were of the same name as Vanos; he was a lover, not a fighter. His genetics, on the other hand, didn't grace him with the thinner body of a thinker or another Isur clan that was more intellectual based than brute force based. Vanos' body was built from the ground up for combat. His hands were made to grip the hilt of a two handed sword in one hand, his left arm seemingly thicker and stronger than the regular Isur to act as a shield. Vanos was built and bred for fighting, but he found his calling at the forge. The forge never talked back, the forge never judged him on his inability to fight like a "real Isur." It was just another tool for the Isur to use. Out of respect for Jerzy, Vanos locked the door after him as he entered the dark shop and walked to the back of the building where the forge was now quiet and mute. He could still feel the heat from the metal and stone that held onto the warmth as he walked by the little work room and to the smaller room that held the weights perfectly on the rack. Each weight was placed perfectly on the rack from lightest to heaviest, the lighter weights having gathered dust from the two men that barely touched them. The rage that Vanos held previously had all but disappeared the second that he saw the boy out in the middle of the street. For Vanos it put his problems in perspective; they were nothing but juvenile problems, ones that would correct themselves in time. If what Vanos wanted didn't happen, then perhaps Izurdin had something bigger and better in mind then a partnership with that one man. The Isur had to keep his faith in his god and realize that Izurdin knew best, and that he rewarded those that were patient and strong. Vanos wasn't particularly certain he could handle being patient at the moment, but he could try and work on the latter a little more. He reached over for two of the heavier weights from the rack and sat himself on the bench, his eyes meeting his own grey body in the mirror. Vanos was still simply dressed in his work pants and boots and nothing more - far easier to see his form without silly clothing on his body. With a low growl and just the faintest of hints of a smile on his face, Vanos began his rep with the relatively light weight in his fingers. He made a mental note to ask Jerzy how he could acquire some heavier weights. Maybe teasing the Denvali and accusing him of not being strong enough to handle more weight would be the right sort of motivation that Jerzy needed...

[Tabarnac]

XP Award! Vanos XP Award: Bodybuilding +3; Weaponsmithing +4; Philosophy +1; Persuasion +1; Leadership +1 Additional Notes: I would have though the strangeness of his gnosis backfiring would have caused more comment, but it appears that you decided to go in a different direction with the thread. In future, use of gnosis will have graver consequences while Denval is under its curse. But I did like how something as small as the appearance of a child in need diffused his rage when all the physical work in the world wouldn’t. We’ll make a nancy boy out of your tough Isur yet! Feel free to PM me if you have any questions or concerns. Keep writing!