Completed of art

Father and son discuss important matters for much too short a time.

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The fortified mountain city of the Isur. [Lore]

of art

Postby Smithis on March 28th, 2013, 12:00 am

23rd of Spring

It was father's morning route. A classic challenge when it came to living with one of the greatest minds of Sultros, as Smithis often liked to dub him. Father's morning routine consisted of several things, not all of which Smithis was invited to join. Still when father called, there always was an able son to follow. Not that it was a competition, but he liked to be more reliable than his brother. Elder as Valon might've been, he was still much too scatterminded to be of any real use to the family or race as a whole. He should've been a bard, people liked his sort in that branche. When it came to smithing and architecture and warrior ways, or dark ways of djed even... he was interrupted to say the least. Valon would of course try and compensate all of this with a social butterfly function where he'd try to appease everyone while retaining no actual responsiblities. And it worked for everyone, as long as Smithis was there when father called. But one day Smithis won't be there, and one day... Valon will have proven himself a disappointment. It would hurt the younger brother to have his family realize what he has gotten through his mind so long ago, so no notice of this passes his lips. He would rather work for two men than disappoint. Both mother and father were too old and respected in his mind to deserve such a thing.

Valon could have his place between a woman's legs as long as he remembered his place at the dinner table. It was better that way... and everyone was content. Besides, Smithis very much prefered to be the superior brother. It might've brought a tad of pressure to his upbringing, but there was pleasure in finding someone's hope well rested in him.
It was a long walk more before his father finally entered the large doorway to his right. The holy forge awaited. There was no time to work it today though. They came mere observers until such a time they had to leave. His father had great respect for art of anything. Creation was holy – Izurdin and his clerics taught, and father listened with prime patience and vision; as an Isur should.

„Aren't we“ he'd start, then stop to see if he got his father's attention between loud swings of Idlebane, great hammer of the Vizerian smith, Devir. Father would soon turn and cause tongue to unwind for the younger Isur „Aren't we going to work the forges today father?“ he already knew the answer, but there was holy sweat in those fires. Father's decision pending, he could've pleased his lord in the greatest of ways. But wise father had other plans and the two would shrug to one another after the parent shook his head in reply.
„Today's time has already been stolen away son...“ without the air of a finished sentence, his father would simply stop talking. It was an old man's trick urging you to inch closer in your seat as if he had something more to say even when he was really finished. Smithis knew this, he grew up with the man, but this was still fascinating nonetheless.
„Is it not sin far greater to watch others and crave the art with idle hands?“ his ears accustomed to the racket, voice raising to a yell with each word; he knew father could hear him. They both had decent ears in their sockets after all.
„Izurdin has a plan for us all, Smithis.“ He'd sigh as if wishing an arm as weak and lowly marked as his could grasp at such divine design. Another trick of course, but Smithis enjoyed seeing it nonetheless. His father could've been a true political force had there not been for his 'improper' behavior. „And speak not of this as an art before your mother, she'll have given you a bell's worth lecture because of it. She wouldn't stop after the first time either...“ then he'd stop, and add apologetically „Fine woman your mother, but in this we part ways!“ there was firmness to his voice even when he spoke to a child. Smithis took it as a good sign, perhaps he was finally starting to become a man in father's watching eye.

„That doesn't sound like mother“ Smithis would continue speaking, albeit lower, as they moved away from the forge. Today's pleasantries were over. „Sounds like...“ and he'd stop, there had been enough mud on his mother's name after all.
„Like blasphemy, yes. Still blasphemy is a foul word once someone hears rest of the story.“ And Smithis would take this as a cue that he was supposed to listen. It took a while, but his assumption proved correct. „It's a matter of philisophy, one I care not enough to delve deeper into. Your mother, you see... she believes in a certain“ he'd sigh, searching for a proper, polite word „Idea.“ He'd finish.
„In her mind, art is about taking away“ and then he'd add, still confused „According to her, smithing is simply giving until there is nothing else to give. She'd say that smithing is taxing to soul, like ways of djed she hasn't used in ages. She'd tell you that if smithing was the art, then your work would be the artist for taking everything besides satisfaction of a hard day's work away from you... She'd... ah she'd string us up both if she knew we were having this discussion without her here to defend her ground...“ again with that sudden interruption, as pleased as he was with father's rethorics even Smithis could see that his vocabulary needed to be broadened.

„I never really saw it that way. Never will really.“ Smithis replied easily. His mother was a wise woman, but this was nonsense to him. „It is we who create. We who are power. It is we that hammer.... and we that remove. We remove impurities from metal as it removes sweat and idle monsters of inproductivity from our bodies, we each purify the other. So yes, perhaps it is metal that helps us shape it, but it is us who shape both it and ourselves.“ He'd stop and then add as to avoid needless blasphemy and ego „In Izurdin's image of course!“

„You'd call it a common thought, a compromise.“ He'd sigh as if he was recalling a better, now lost time. „Your mother though would call it a defeat. True purpose is without fault. It does not compromise or halt for any one man. And then she'd walk away as if nothing ever happened, back to her own business as you were left scratching your head... there are some things that fit no design of ours. That is why we have Izurdin to broaden our posiblities by knitting his own designs to fit individualists like your mother. It is a thing one mortal shouldn't dare question.“ Finally a finished sentence with a tone to fit it. Smithis was pleased his father seemed to pick up on the subtle irritation to his past reaction. At least he hoped that was the cause of father switching up his mannerisms.

„You gave up, didn't you, father?“ adding purposefully „when it came to leading discussions with mother?“
„Of course, two people that both appear right can't take one of them being wrong. So we took a truce and decided to talk around this and a few other discussions. There are after all much better uses of our time than idle squabbling that wouldn't move either of our agendas towards achievement.“
„I understand, but were you really to be the one that backs down?“ he was a bit disappointed to hear his father give upon spoken belief even if it meant pleasing mother. He thought his father was a grander man than that, it was but a momentary thought soon to be replaced with parent's reply.
„One day you'll have a family of your own and you'll understand that voicing your opinion or being right isn't as important as youth makes it seem. One day..huh..“ then he'd whistle to himself „Look at the time! Don't wait up for me, head home! I just remembered pressing business with that snake Valir down at the Plaza. Give my love to your mother when you get home!“ and with that he'd wave off his son disappearing somewhere in the distance. This wasn't the best way to end a conversation, Smithis knew, but it was the one they had.
There would be more to this discussion, he'd know. Most of his days were spent with father after all. His mother taught him different things, but she too took notice of always doing so when his father wasn't around. As close as his parents had grown over the years, there was still a gap in mentality you could call a proper rift between the two. It must've been their lineage that made them so different yet considerate enough to respect each other enough not to act as antagonists in one another's presence.
Smithis
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of art

Postby Whimsy on April 3rd, 2013, 8:05 am

Image

Smithis

Experience Lore
+2 Observation Familial Expectations
+2 Philosophy Izurdin's Temple
+1 Rhetoric The Differing Beliefs of the Mother
The Important Values of Family


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Congratulations on your first thread in Sultros! I really liked this insight into the workings of Smithis' family. Please be aware that longer solos with multiple posts will get you more xp and lore. PM me if you have any questions or concerns.

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