FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Hot, steamy water lapped at Killick's fur, soaking him and driving away the chill.  He lay back in the bath and let the scented water gently massage his aching muscles, and caress his stinging wounds.  Eventually he started to scrub at his fur and skin, the coarse cleaning salts rubbing away the dirt and grime from his journey.  He could already feel his strained muscles unknotting and his spirit lifting.  The water splashed in tiny waves as he cleaned himself, taking care to scrub every inch of his body to ensure no trace of the offensive filth would be left behind.  The faint, flowery fragrance of the perfumed salts tickled his sensitive nostrils and cleared his head and sinuses, and the bad memories of the cave washed away like loose dirt.When he had finished cleaning himself, Killick just let his body sink into the bath and let the wonderful hot water soak into him.  The images of the day's dangers floated away in a haze.  He gently closed his eyes and let out a deep and heavy sigh.  With a lazy smile on his face and the memories of the day getting pushed further to the back of his mind, he vowed never to chase adventure or excitement ever again.*** Killick sat, hunched over a large tome.  His eyes scanned the yellowed pages for any mentions to the tangible metaphysics of a persons soul, but he wasn't having much luck.  The old book had only revealed a few relevant points on the magical construction of the soul, and most were only vague references to concepts he already understood.  Still, he noted down the information on a writing scroll in the hope it might inspire him later on.  A tap on the shoulder roused him from his study, much to Killick's relief.  Janis Frisor, the head of the Tunorda Mage's Guild, stood before him. "How are you feeling Killick?" She asked him.  It took Killick a moment to realise what she meant.  It had been six days since he had stumbled through the gates of Tunorda, battered and bruised, and nearly frozen.  "Oh, I'm feeling much better, thank you," he replied."That's good to hear.  I was relieved to see that you weren't badly injured when you arrived.  It sounds like quite an adventure you had out there.  And very resourceful thinking of your ceremonial dagger like that."  Killick wasn't surprised that Janis had heard of his encounter with the wraith.  He had been recounting his tale to anyone that would listen to him, and a few people that had tried not to.  "It's just a shame that I lost it.  But I think that was enough adventure for me for a lifetime."  He grinned politely at the feline.  Despite his somewhat exciting entrance, he was still getting a feel for his new home, and was still adjusting the level of professional friendliness he showed towards his new master.  Janis Frisor was not a hard taskmaster, however she do not approve of mages sitting idle and believed that hard and

worthwhile work was the standard of a decent mage.  As far as Killick could tell, she spent most of her time in contact with other citizens of the city, from farmers to high ranking city officials, taking on problems that needed a more educated or magical approach, and passing them onto the mages.  If you had a problem in the city of Tunorda, then Janis Frisor was the feline to see."I'll definitely see about getting you a replacement," she smiled and nodded.  "Speaking of weapons, I wanted you to pick up a sword from the blacksmith.""A sword?  Why?" Killick blurted out before he could stop himself.  What did it matter that the Master of the Guild needed a sword?  It was not his place to ask silly questions.  But Frisor's kind expression did not change.  "It's for a private enchanting commission from a citizen.  In fact I would also like you to create the enchantment.""But, I'm not an enchanter," he frowned.  Killick had only covered very basic enchantment at the university, feeling that the pursuit of knowledge was a far worthier act."Then this is a wonderful opportunity to learn."  Frisor must have noticed something unsavoury about Killick's face, because she went on.  "Enchanting is a very useful skill to possess, Killick.  It is greatly appreciated by the community and one of the main ways that the Guild makes money here.  Tunorda is too small to get much support from the capital, so we very often have to look after ourselves."  Killick looked down and felt his ears burning in embarrassment.  "Of... of course," he stammered.  The feline smiled again and gently squeezed the dog's shoulder."And besides, it's only a low level spell.  It's practically training in itself."***Tunorda was not a large city, and the blacksmith was only a short walk from the Mages Guild.  This did not, however, stop Killick from getting utterly lost trying to find his way there.  He blamed the snow that covered nearly every roof and path, making everything look the same to the poor dog.  Light, gentle snow seemed to fall perpetually in this northern part of Sezan, despite it being late spring.  Back in Lustar, it only snowed in the coldest weeks of winter.  Killick eventually forced himself to ask a city guardsman who quickly escorted him to the blacksmith, before returning to his post.  The Scorched Claw was an old building, made from large black stones that were probably once white, and wooden pillars that had been made marble smooth by decades, if not a century or two, of weather.  A wooden sign that was obviously much more recent than the rest of the building hung from an awning.  The words 'The Scorched Claw: Blacksmith' had been burned into the sign, rather than painted, in a style that resembled at least an attempt of semi-artistry.  The acrid smell of smoke and burning metal hung heavy in the air, and Killick cursed

himself for not just following his nose in the first place.  The hinges of the door must have been well oiled, as it swung open easily and without a sound.  Killick had rarely visited the many smithies back in Lustar, but he was generally familiar with what to expect.  A burning forge, a stack of tools and weapons, the constant hammering of metal.  What he didn't expect to see was a dirty grey bear laying on the floor, with a richly dressed lion, obviously a nobleman, standing over him with a delicate yet deadly looking sword pointed at the bear's throat.  "...And now I have lost every ounce of my shipment, costing me such an amount of gold that your tiny brain can't even begin to conceive!"Killick stood in the doorway and stared at the scene he had interrupted.  Neither appeared to have noticed him enter the smithy, and he was too shocked to try to say something.  "I told you that wagon was not safe to travel a long journey," the bear snarled back at him.  He spoke in a thick, foreign accent."Which is why I paid you to fix it!""I cannot fix rotten wood.  Not with what you paid me.""You're lucky I paid you at all!" the lion spat.  The absolute fury that contorted the lion's otherwise clean and handsome face froze Killick in his tracks.  He was certain that if he didn't do something, the lion would kill the bear where he lay."Um, hello?"  He called out meekly.  Both heads snapped to look at him.  Killick leaned backwards and felt his shoulders touch the door behind him.  The bear looked back up the lion, seemingly waiting for a reaction.  The finely dressed lion stared at Killick, his face still furious but flashes of concern crossed his face, as if here were deciding whether it would be worth committing murder in full view of a witness.  Eventually he flicked his sword away from the bear's throat and stepped back.  "You're lucky today, smith," he spat, his eyes turning back onto the bear.  "But mark my words.  You will pay for what you have cost me."  The lion sheathed his sword and stormed towards the exit.  "Get out of my way," he snarled at Killick as he pushed past him.  Killick stumbled backwards as the door of the blacksmith slammed shut, leaving the mage alone with the bear.  He stood rooted to the spot, not sure what to do or say after what he had just witnessed.  His eyes stayed focused on a patch of floor in front of him.  A few moments passed before the bear started to push himself off the floor.  His gaze drawn by the laboured grunts, Killick hurried over and took the bears shoulder, helping him to his feet.  It turned out to be quite a task because the bear was much taller, and much, much heavier than Killick had realised.  He also appeared to be drunk.  The bear stumbled around as he stood, making Killick's attempted aid even harder, knocking over a few tools and jug of water before finally

steadying himself against a table.  "Thank you," he rumbled at Killick.  The bear took a deep breath and stretched out his bulky shoulders, showing off his full height, before leaning back down on the table's steady surface.  He must have been a good three heads taller than Killick; large even for a bear.  It was at this point that Killick realised that the bear was not wearing a shirt, just trousers and a heavy leather apron that covered his muscular chest and sizable belly.  Killick blushed slightly and tried to look elsewhere.  "Are you alright?" Killick asked, trying to break the silence that had fallen once more upon the smithy.  The bear merely grunted, eyes boring into the wood of the bench.  Killick's eyes flicked to where the bear had been lying with a sword against his throat just moments before.  Just what had happened here?  The mages curiosity was starting to get the better of him.  "Who was that?" he asked, "For a moment I thought he was going to..."  Killick didn't like the idea of finishing that sentence, instead trailing off and letting the thought hang in the air."Just some noble bastard from the capital.""From Lustar?"  The lion had definitely been dressed richly enough to be part of the ruling families of the kingdom of Sezan, but Killick didn't recognise him as a Royal."Damn Lustarians.  They think they are better than everyone because they live in the shadow of their damn King."  The bear thumped his large paw against the table.  Not hard, but all the tools on the table jumped slightly.  Killick felt his chest swell at the comment."Actually, I'm from Lustar," he said, raising his muzzle into the air in insulted pride.  But his stature deflated when the blacksmith simply turned to gaze at him for a few seconds, his expression completely neutral and unreadable.  Killick's eyes fell to the floor again.  The bear moved over to a washing basin and began to clean his paws and splash water over his face.  Killick noticed that firstly, the bear was swaying oddly, and secondly that his fur was actually white, not grey."You're a frost bear!" blurted Killick.  That explained the accent.  And possibly the size.  "And you are a dog.  What of it?""Oh.  Nothing, really.  I just thought it was interesting," he said more to himself than the blacksmith, his tail lowering.  He watched as the frost bear grabbed a thick wine bottle from a crude wooden shelf, and took a long swig of its contents.  He then undid the leather apron and let it drop into a heap on the floor, revealing his large, dirty chest.  Heat rushed through Killick's cheeks as he blushed again, and he tried to interest his eyes in the glowing forge that took up a large corner of the room.  He still felt compelled to talk, however awkward it felt.  The scene of lion threatening the bear kept replaying in his mind, and the need to

know just what had happened nagged him like an itch.  "What did he want?" Killick asked suddenly.  The bear frowned in confusion.  "The noble," Killick clarified.  "What did the lion want?""You are full of questions."  The bear sighed and smiled, then eased himself into a big wooden chair that creaked under the weight, and took another swig of wine.  "His name is Voss Nefa-something, I forget.  I fixed a wagon for him.  He needs it to carry something important.  I tell him that the wagon is not good for a long trip, that he is better off buying  a new one."  Another sigh and a drink.  "But he is rude and arrogant and just wants me to fix it, so I do.  Today he comes back shouting that I did a bad job, and that the wagon and cargo is ruined, and is my fault.  He said he would kill me."  Another drink.  He paused and stared at the glass bottle.  "Did you?" Killick asked urgently, wanted to hear more.  The bear looked up."Did I what?""Do a bad job?"  The dog instantly regretted his words, his whole body tensing up at the large bears gaze.  But the blacksmith shrugged and grinned.  Killick relaxed."Now I wish I had done a better job.  Even for what he paid me."  He tipped the bottle upside down against his muzzle and sucked out the last of the wine.  "But he is gone now, and I am not dead.  And I have you to thank for that.""Aren't you worried that he'll come back?""Bah!  Nobles hate leaving their little castles.  Once he gets back to his piles of gold he will forget."  He dropped the bottle to the floor and stood up suddenly, his drunken swaying apparently cured.  "Now, dog full of questions, what can I do for you?""Pardon?""I doubt you were sent by the Gods to merely save my life.  Why do you come to my forge?""Oh!"  Killick suddenly remembered why he had come to blacksmith.  "I'm here to pick up a sword," he said, pulling the paper order from his robes."For the mages guild?"  The bear spied the guild insignia on Killick's chest and nodded.  He lumbered to a rack of weapons and took a short, iron sword.  It glimmered in the light as he checked the edge was good and sharp.  He dismissed the piece of paper that Killick tried to hand him as he placed the sword on the table in front of the dog."Not my best work.  But good for the time and gold given to me."  He smiled and nodded.  Killick took the plain sword by the hilt with both hands and hefted it up.  His arms trembled with its weight."It is a one handed sword," the smith instructed, then laughed at the disbelieving look Killick shot him.  "Do not worry, it is a one handed sword made for an ox twice your size."  He continued to laugh as he threw Killick a rough leather scabbard.  Killick awkwardly sheathed the weapon and tucked it under his arm."Thank you," he said politely, bowing

slightly."You are very welcome.  I enjoyed our talk," said the bear, patting Killick on the shoulder.  "I hope you come to talk again.  Most other people do not wish to talk long with me."  "Oh, I'm sorry."  Killick thought he saw a twinge of sadness pull at the bear's face.  "Why is that?" he said before he could stop himself.  Mentally, he yelled at himself for being an idiot.  But the bear didn't seem phased.  Instead he grinned."Maybe I am too big and scary,eh?  Not many frost bears in Sezan.""Ah, maybe."  Killick could not think of anything else to say.  They stood in silence for some seconds before Killick turned to the door with a hasty "Thank you.""Borullf," the bear called out."Pardon?""My name.  Borullf.  For someone who asks so many questions, you forget the obvious one.""Oh!  Right.  Yes.  Sorry.  Yes.  Um, it was a pleasure to meet you, Borullf," he stuttered.  If he blushed any more today it would be no surprise if his cheek fur turned red permanently.  Borullf smiled and nodded, obviously waiting for something.  "Oh! Um, my name... I'm Killick.""It is good to meet you, Killick the mage."  Borullf extended his paw.  Killick took it and watch in awe as his own paw was completely engulfed by the bear's as they shook.  "I hope to see you again.""Thank you, again.  It was nice to meet you too."  And with that, Killick left with a smile on his face.