Axe and The Wolf

Chapter I: Steel And Stone

"Gold may glimmer, but the bond of kin is the truest treasure. Stand by your kin, for in unity lies our strength." – Clan Leader Bruni Blackbeard

The fragrant smell of the pines filled Ulfrun's nostrils. At the time it seemed a very different smell than the usual smells his dwarven nose was accustomed to, which he always said was steel and stone, the two materials most important to his people. ''Alright, son, now, level the crossbow on the log'' said the deep voice of his Father, Björn, in a soft whisper. The finely carved and solidly made weapon felt somewhat hefty in his hands, he posed the weapon on the surface of a downed log, the moose seemed like a mountain of fur and muscle. His uncle Boromir assured him that the dwarven made crossbows were much more powerful than human made ones, which Ulfrun had seen as a child. Dwarven crossbows had wheels and not ropes, but cables made from steel, they penetrated armor and in the case of hunting, took down bigger game. Ulfrun's eyes went to the tip of the bolt, a three sided blade found itself at the end of the shaft, he breathed slowly, aimed for the space just above the elbow of the beast and let the bolt loose, the weight of the weapon avoided the release to cause too much movement, the loud thwack of the bolt made his eyes blink, the impact on the moose's side made a satisfactory thwump sound, "Ha! Good shot, lad!" said Ulfrun's uncle while patting his shoulder, "Right, let's get moving, the moose won't go too far with a shot like that!" his father Björn added. Meese are large beasts, under normal circumstances, tracking one needs a close inspection of feces and tracks, a wounded moose, not so much, a blood trail and broken foliage is enough to follow along. As his father told him, the animal hadn't run too far, it was shambling down, the bolt stuck on its side leaving a wound by which the hot air of its breath came out, it was a sight to behold, the cloud of breath coming from its snout and the wound on its lung. The beast fell, dying fast, but not instantaneously. "Ulf, take this" Björn unsheathed his seax, twisting it and handing the knife by the blade to his son. "Don't let the animal suffer unnecessarily, hit the base of the skull, where the neck meets the skull, we'll hold the antlers" Ulfrun went around the moose, while his father and uncle held the antlers, it didn't move too much, he put his finger on the area his father mentioned "Right here?" Ulfrun asked, and when Björn nodded, he stopped for a second to breathe and inserted the blade, the moose tensed and let loose, with a final exhalation leaving a hot cloud of breath hanging in the air. 

"Right, let's put this big bastard on the cart" Boromir said, after gutting the animal and struggling for a while, the three dwarves managed to put the large animal in the cart, while pouring some dwarven spirit to clean their hands Boromir said "Fuckin' hell, that is one ploughin' heavy animal, how much do you reckon that bull weighs, brother?" Björn turned to see the animal on the cart, exhaled and says "1000? 1200 lbs? It's bloody huge, that is for certain" his gaze turned to his son "You did well today lad, this animal will keep us fed for the entire winter, I even think your uncle can get a pound or two" he said while giggling "Oh of course! The one who tracks, stalks and finds the animals gets the least amount seems only fair!" said Boromir in a mocking tone "Indeed!" Björn laughed and patted heavily his brother's shoulder. "Nah, there's enough meat here for you as well, we'll be eating enough of it that come spring we'll probably be growing antlers and fur!" added Björn, all three laughed. 

Ulfrun's mind started to slowly come back to reality, while holding the moose pelt that now covered one of the table's in his uncle's forge, the memories of that hunt still fresh in his mind, his first and best. Uncle Boromir had recently taken him under his wing as a blacksmith, dwarves take apprenticeships during the decades leading up to their coming-of-age celebration at their 50th birthday, Ulfrun had gone through several, by this point, he started at first in his father's workplace, after compulsory military service, like many dwarves do, but the mine seemed off to him, his father knew that it wouldn't do to keep him there if it wasn't the right fit, Ulfrun afterwards went onto other apprenticeships, woodworking, a communal kitchen, even the local greenhouses, he spent several years in each, finding joy in them, but not quite his calling, sure he found himself fascinated the light reflecting on the many crystals from carved skylights to feed light to the greenhouses, but it didn't see the right fit. "Alright, my boy, enough lollygagging" Uncle Boromir's gravely tone broke the silence. Boromir's eyes went to the pelt and brought a smirk to his bearded face "In the years we've been hunting, your Da and me, we had never seen a moose that big, anyway, we have a breastplace to finish, I'll let you in charge of it, this will be your first test to see if you can produce a proper piece of armor, lad" Ulfrun's eyes suddenly filled with joy "I won't let you down, Uncle, I've been practicing enough!"