An Axe in the Flames

No Hero

The cool morning air hung low on the farm, a mist covering the Swine pen and creeping up to the rickety wooden front steps. In the sky the clouds were a bruised purple and yellow that allowed just a sliver of the sun to shine through. The first frost had laid itself on Draxx's land and he wasn't too happy about it. His joints popped and ached with every movement, like rusty hinges on a door that you just kept opening and closing hoping that it would work itself out. Well, it wasn't. His knee fucking hurt and clicked when he walked and his fingers throbbed at the knuckles. Even the ones he didn't have anymore. What kind of bullshit was that?

He was ready for his trek into town though, because today was the day he was going to get his personalized axe. He'd waited a good bit for Amery to finish and now, the wait was over. He had pulled on his thick fur jacket and slid the hood over his freshly shaven head. He had fed Nila her leftover stew and now was the time to walk to the market. The merchants would've already set up their carts and wagons by now, and if he was correct about the time, then Amery would just be rolling in with his wares. Always a touch late, just to make a show of things and to be the newest trinkets to a customers eyes. Even that strategy made sense to an old warrior like Draxx.

With a last check of his thick hide and leather shoes, Draxx was almost ready. He stood from the bench on his covered porch and gave a big stretch. He was getting old and walks like these were becoming harder and harder. Sure, he could saddle up Nila and mosey on in to town, but those dumb asses would think a monster was in the loose and take off running for their life thinking the apocalypse itself was on their doorstep. Draxx chuckled to himself, simple minded folk were easy to live with but hard to deal with. Like a woman, really. Can't live with them and they can't pee standing up. He reached down and grabbed his pack and slung it over his back. Off to buy his pretty new axe and he had to admit, he was a lot excited.

Dry Lake was certainly alive and kicking this morning. Vendors lined the street on both sides, wooden carts and lean-to's with fruits that shone in the early sunlight that snuck through the thick and heavy gray clouds. Wagons with trinkets of Gods know what were scattered about the vendors and everyone was talking and bartering. It sounded like a hen house to Draxx and this is exactly what he wanted to avoid. Crowds made him nervous since he had hung up his greaves for farm gloves. They made him feel like he had to watch his back at all times, maybe it was what every old warrior felt? He didn't really know but he also didn't really care. He just didn't like it.

He stopped at the edge of the vendors, holding his good hand over his eyes to try and find Amery. His other hand didn't block shit and was fairly useless for anything, if he was being honest with himself. Bright colored cloths separated each vendor from the other and he couldn't find Amery's gray cloth with the black wolf symbol anywhere.

"That's odd. Normally he'd be here by now." Draxx said aloud to himself.

"Who ya lookin fer' old fella?"

The reply startled Draxx and he took a step back. A little hunched over lady with thin wisps of gray and white hair stood beside him and was covering her eyes the same way he was.

"Gods woman! You almost scared the shit right out of me!"

She cackled, a dry and raspy sound, "It happens the older we get."

"Speak for yourself. I have great control of my bowels. I'm looking for the tool smith, Amery." He said, still peering through the lines of people.

She shrugged her aged shoulders and looked up at Draxx through two milky eyes, "I can't rightly help ya, I barely see my own nose most days!"

She cackled again and pulled up her dirty linen dress and tottered away. Draxx blew out a deep breath and wiped his face with his meaty hands.

"What in the three hells was that even about?"

He decided to walk a little further ahead and see if maybe Amery had come early, but to no avail. No gray cloth with a wolf was anywhere to be seen. He turned to the nearest merchant, who was selling rocks of all colors and sizes. A great fat man with a hawk nose and yellow teeth and bushy eyebrows so overgrown they protruded out over his eyes.

"Aye, is it jewels ye seeks my friend?" His voice was thick like speaking through a mouthful of mud and Draxx barely understood him.

"Jewels? Is that what these rocks are?"

The fat man bellowed and waved his hand across his rocks, "These, my fellow, are the Crown Jewels of the Emerald Kingdom!! Farmed from the far mountains of the Moose Horn Ridges. Dug from the depths of the Forlorn Caverns and fished from the bottom of the Sea of Desolation."

Draxx rolled his eyes, what a load of shit. "Fished from the Sea? Dug from the depths? These look like rocks that you dyed in your backyard."

He plucked a yellow stone and held it up to the sliver of sun. It shone through bright gold with flecks of red deep inside.

"No, no, no! The great Hamal only deals in the finest of stones and jewels. What you hold in your hand is the famous King's Blood stone. Mined from the Frozen Cliffs of the far North, where the Berserkers roam free. The feared Northmen of lore!!"

Draxx chuckled and tossed the stone back into the piles of colored rocks, "You spin great tales, fat man. I've seen the Berserkers and fought them before. Bunch of uneducated drunken bastards running around in loin cloths and swinging axes like children."

Hamal frowned, his unruly eyebrows almost obscuring eyes, "If you do not plan to purchase my wares, then move along. I've not the patience for great wastes of my time, especially by mutilated walruses."

Draxx burst into a laughter that made Hamal jump back in surprise. "Ok, you win. I'll buy some of your shiny rocks, but can you tell me where the tool smith is this morning?"

"Two bits per jewel, then." Hamal said with a hesitation.

"Two bits per rock. Got it." Draxx replied as he took a stone and fished through his bag for the tin bits of coinage.

He found them and held his hand out towards Hamal who stepped back, eyeing Draxx's hand.

"You're....you're...Club Hand? I'm so sorry, sir. I had no idea. These are free to you, any that you please. I apologize from the bottom of my heart."

Draxx rolled his eyes, "I fucking hate that name."

"Sir, you are a hero. You should only tell me what you want and it is yours." Hamal sputtered, his face flushing red.

"First of all, Hamad."

"Hamal. With an L."

"Hamma, I'm not a hero. Those days are long behind me. I'm an old man now that tends to his Swine and farm."

"It's...Hamal...with an-"

Draxx waved his hand in dismissive fashion, "With an L, ya I know. Thanks. But can you tell me where the tool smith is?"

Hamal smiled with a pained expression, "I cannot. He never showed to the wagon procession."

"Never showed?" Draxx said, raising an eyebrow.

"Nope. No, sir. Never did show up. Not like him either."

"That is strange, Hemel."

"Ah..Hah-mah-l."

"Ok...do you know where his house is?"

Hamal smiled, "You only need ask and I will draw a map."

Draxx wiped his face with both hands, "I thought I just did..."

This. This was exactly why he hated crowded towns and most vendors. It was like trying to reason with a rock. Like talking to melting butter and asking it to be bread. It all made his head hurt.

"Ask and you shall receive. Anything for a hero of your caliber."

Hamal produced parchment and a charcoal stick and quickly scribbled out a map. Excitedly handing it to Draxx.

"I'm not a damn hero. I'm an old man. I killed people with an axe, that hardly makes me someone to look up to. Fat load of good it did for me too." Draxx said, holding up both hands and showing his missing fingers.

"In the eyes of those around you, Sir Club Hand, you are a statue of a man. One children aspire to be one day."

Taking the map and turning around over his shoulder, Draxx shook his head, "Yeah, well, they shouldn't."