The Adept [Summoner fanfiction]

-1-

The boy pulled down his thin woollen cloak, the sticks and leaves of the camouflage bit into his pale skin as he pulled out his blade; a modified skinning knife, able to hide and show the blade with a flick of his wrist. He looked at his target, a small bird took off behind him cracking a few branches and he fell to the ground, he creeped forwards and stopped at the edge of the clearing. The Elk chewed the sparse grass teeming over the ground. It methodically raised it's head to search for predators, but alas there was none. Aside from Tyrone.

He estimated the beasts value, a break in the antler showed him that this particular Elk was old and had weaker bones, he saw its fur was matted at parts but was still usable. In this county it was rare to find deer let alone elks and he reasoned that the elk would be heralded as fair as long as he sold it for about 40-100 shillings. The meat would be smoked and cooked, the fat dripping in the pot could be used for glue, a needed utensil for Tyrone, or it could waterproof his clothes, he stopped his stomach growling and focused, this meat would be the first - and likely last - of the winter and he couldn't afford to lose it.

He cursed himself yet again for not getting a bow, it would allow him a clean shot to make Cortana's life easier, alas he steeled himself, inching slowly closer to the elk until he was about a metre away. He pounced as the beast looked away, placing a stab at the creatures throat, he completed the slit but fumbled, losing the blade. He saw the blade glint with blood as it fell and went to grab purchase of it.

Alas the creature fell crushing the grass beneath it. Tyrone struggled to move the elk and grabbed his knife from the carcass. Tyrone heaved the corpse to his shoulders, struggling against the weight. He cursed and fretted as he dragged the limp body along the grass, avoiding branches and rough terrain where he could. He rested at the edge of the forest and examined the wound he had dealt; a small messy slit rested at the beasts neck and was still spouting blood, the cleanest wound was a fatal one nonetheless.

He looked to the road, a muddy thin passage covered in frost and horse crap but a road none the less, he bypassed it reasoning to avoid damage to the furs where possible, the sun started to set and he looked out to the majesty that had come to be known as the beartooth mountains. however all he saw was a rising shard and a tower glued on, he despised that tower, useful? Potentially, but it was disgusting he never saw it from his town but it irked him that it existed. a few weeks ago an embellished summoner known as Didric had turned his hometown of Pelt into a prison after having 'been attacked' by one of the children there, having nothing more than a burnt face for evidence.

Tyrone had been to Pelt once, 3 years ago- before it was a prison -for a bit of tutoring from a blacksmith there, he was a big bloke of a man with a hearty beard and an impressive skill for smithery, he taught him a lot of things from how to use a forge to how to forge a blade and make or customise a weapon, that was how Tyrone had got his blade.

Berdon had given him a skinning knife to practice with and he had made a handle that astounded him and Berdon's apprentice and adopted son, the name had escaped Tyrone but he remembered the lad fondly, only two years older than he at 15 and alike Tyrone, dark hair and pale, extraordinarily pale for this far up north and he was a brilliant smith, his temperament in blade making was astonishing, almost similar to that of Berdon himself. Alas he left before he could really become good friends with the lad, but he left with the best knowledge in smithing bar the smith himself in his hometown.

He pushed the memory aside looking down at his town at the bottom of the hill, a wall separated a small population from the brilliant predators of the mountains. The candles placed upon the walls were yet to be lit so the likelihood was that the guards were yet to leave the barracks.

he rushed to the gate already fearing it was locked and opened it bursting into the centre of the town, his town: Hone, the town was small scarily so and was surpassed in prestige by Pelt as it had no summoners to speak of, whilst Pelt had at least two, both of which had gone or were going to Vocans academy near Corcillum, he passed the first two shops, who's the Enders were good acquaintances of his, and towed the carcass inside the tanners.

He gutted the Elk and skinned it, tying the skin to the rack that Cortana had and cut off the meat and sinew's drying them and cooking or smoking the meat, keeping the fat grease and sinews for himself, he ravaged a slice of meat and left the others in a small box he was assigned. He was soaked in blood from the shoulders down by the end and had only just fallen into bed by the time sleep hit him like a sack of wheat.

He woke up the next day only as Cortana chucked water at him, he jumped up soaked through the skin, and glared at Cortana as she laughed and guffawed at him as he took off his clothes and wrapped his sheets around him, hoping to the gods that he could get warm, Cortana grabbed his hand dragging him into the small room in the back and chucked water at him over and over, the ice cold water hit him like a brick and he shivered and froze as she mercilessly washed him and tutted at his shaggy hair, she grabbed some scissors and sheared the hair leaving him clean and only a little bit annoyed.

'get this on!' she said chucking a brightly coloured jacket and trousers. ' what are these for?' he was only starting to wake up and Cortana dutifully answered 'It's market day.' he instantly remembered and understanding dawned on him; although small Hone was well known for their expert armourers and training grounds hence the name and thus many southern family's and warriors came  learn or simply buy wares, and as Pelt had been reduced to a prison a year prior there was expected to be a lot more people dropping off to buy wares as it was now the closest settlement to the Elven front lines, a sick horrible place but a place that people were forced to go if they were too old or weak to go to the orc front. And thus it was a profitable town placement.

This was also a brilliant day for people who weren't likely to find a wife or husband in Hone like Tyrone, as he was unlike everyone, he shared features with more southern people and so it was more likely for him to find a way south than north. Either way his adoptive mother was brilliant, having cared for him when no one else could or would, she was a sort of public leader in charge of most things in the town bar the security and law upholding of the town so Tyrone couldn't have gotten luckier to some extent. Having never known or therefor loved or cared for his mother and father he didn't care that much, if they couldn't care for him that was fair, if they just ditched him...

He didn't finish that thought instead turning to Cortana, "do you reckon i will have time to look around this year?" Cortana responded quickly and honestly "i doubt it", Tyrone wanted to be able to see other merchants items as they would bring some brilliant items from weapons to armour, he had saved for this year, having saved over 700 shilling he was hoping to get something good from the market but, he would have to delay others for the chance. He ate his breakfast quickly and collected his money just in case, and went outside to help Cortana.