#cottage ore

[antunesgavriel]

Petite fleur à Bragança Paulista, São Paulo. Nature photography South America.

[arsenic-green]

[oracle-fae]

x

[4mericana9othic]

[lecialucille]

[hubrishelps]

Shiplap - Bedroom

[wu-sisyphus-gang]

Ruby: My preferred Minecraft style is scavenging ores and abandoned mineshafts. I also like pvp.

Jaune: I like to decorate cottage core houses and farms and stables.

*later*

Ruby: *is getting railed*

[thekeeperof-thefandoms]

Would they build a Minecraft cottage with you?

Hazbin addition

Alastor

Probably not in canon. If you did manage to get him to play, he has no idea how computers work. He would not know anything about Minecraft and die a lot unless you were in creative mode.

Does think the idea is cute and will help you plan and design the cottage and farm. Enjoys the coziness. Essentially manages you. Probably stays in the house all the time once it's built decorating, cooking, organizing.

Minecraft Housewife.

Vox

Fuck the cottage. Man built an entire castle with redstone doors, trapdoors, hidden rooms, hot tubs, a full aquarium. Has an automated farm and a full enchanting room and library.

He spends more time building his perfect automates fortress than playing with you.

Congrats by the way, your his grunt worker now. He needs more ore, more diamond, more lapis, go get it for him. He's gonna build a nether portal while you're gone.

Updates it all the time with new stuff. Nether quarts pillars and stairs. Then purrpurr ones. Literally, whatever is the new rarest thing he wants all over the place.

But your Minecraft beds are together and you have all the best gear.

Lucifer

No idea what Minecraft is but wants to spend time with you. Genuinely has fun with it and does help you build your cottage.

You guys have a cute little farmhouse. He looked up building guides to make decorative roofs, wells, a windmill. Just cutesy things to add to your farm.

Helps you gather supplies and tend the animals. Will cry if one of them accidentally dies. Has definitely named them after his family. Like the cat that's permanently in your room named Lily or a bunny named Charlie.

Shows off his Minecraft house and pets to the entire hotel.

Angel Dust

Says he will, has ADHD moment, gets distracted, winds up in the Netherworld.

Literally tries so hard but is physically incapable of finishing anything.

Messes with your stuff sometimes just for funsies.

You have fun though.

BONUS!!

Valentino

Can barely see the screen. Doesn't really care about the game. Leaves dick shaped block towers everywhere.

Gets frustrated easily and purposefully destroys things.

Absolutely would not let you put your Minecraft bed next to his.

Husk

Wouldn't play. He likes watching you play, though, and will compliment your house and farm.

He's not big on video games but enjoys being near you and watching you have fun. He may help you in boss fights but you gotta show him the controls first. Is oddly good at combat in most games.

[the-named-anon]

Dungeon meshi x Minecraft thoughts

(Assuming it’s a modern au and everyone knows how to use a computer…)

Laios

Laios would get the achievement for eating everything edible without even trying. Loves exploring caves, but often falls to his death because he forgets there’s fall damage.

Is trying to speedrun to the dragon, but dies so often it’s pointless… (dude. You’ve lost so much diamond armor Chilchuck isn’t going to give you any.)

He lives in a dirt hut until Marcille or Falin build him a better one

Wants everyone to live nearby, and eventually everyone does

Had a self-made skin, but it looked horrible so Falin made him one

HOARD of dogs. Used to be individually named, but then after the fourth (Name) fell to their death/burned in lava/shot by skeleton, he collectively calls them buddy

Tried to have hardcore worlds, died within the first hour on each.

Is part of a separate server with loads and loads of monster mods (run by someone called LordOfTheDungeon, who made most of the mods)

Gamer tag is xXMonsterSlayerXx

Falin

Is the dragon /j

Master of potion creation, figures them all out very easily.

Lives in a pretty build that her and Marcille built. (And they were roommates 😳)

Is the supplier of ores for the group, is decked out in pretty trimmed diamond armor (enchants courtesy of Chilchuck)

Practically made all the skins that the party uses, based on how they actually look

Has a big farm of animals (is trying to get two of each passive mob in there… tropical fish are the only thing she’s missing, and she has a in-game book to keep track of which ones she has)

Yes, she does have a strider, skeleton horse, and a sniffer.

Has named all her animals, and has a strict “no weapons on the hotbar” when people visit.

Has a separate hardcore world that she’s sunk hours into.

And is part of two other servers, a cosy animal filled cottage core server and another one she won’t tell anyone about

Gamer tag is FlowerFalin

Marcille

Tried desperately to learn potions, but also doesn’t want to step on Falin’s toes…

Is the builder of the group, grows the biggest trees she can. Master of bonemeal.

Went out of her way to grab two mooshrooms for Falin (one red, one brown) under the guise of “I needed mycelium anyways”

Wants to get all of the achievements, but also refuses to eat rotten flesh or poisonous potatoes

Named her sword “Ambrosia two” (and then “Ambrosia 3”, “Ambrosia 4”… she doesn’t loose/break Ambrosia four)

Uses potion tipped arrows. (Realized too late that she probably should’ve named her bow Ambrosia, since its usage with the potion tipped arrows is more similar to her real Ambrosia.)

Falin made her skin based on Uriale

Also plays on a server that has a mod for The Daltian Clan

Gamer tag is UrialeOfDaltian

Chilchuck

Under his quaint little house is a MASSIVE villager trading hall. Has every trade imaginable, at the lowest cost it can be. Lets “no one” in there (Laios has a bad habit of accidentally hitting villagers… and was banned before it was made)

Has the best enchants, and actually successfully speedran to the dragon. (First to have an elytra, and HOARDS shulker boxes. Wants the other party members to pay him for them.)

Has lots of beacons, and has unlocked all the end teleporters… (wither sounds are common on the server)

Most skilled at the game (dad of three girls… what did you expect? (Gamer girl-dad))

His girls made him his skin. (Big anime eyes, but everything else is akin to him) ((begrudgingly uses it))

Has a separate server with his girls, that they modded (custom biomes, more enchant options, fun tools and weapons)

Gamer tag is ChillsChuck

Senshi

Makes food. Only wants to make food… big farm of meat animals, and actual crops.

Is disappointed that there isn’t more monster-based food in the game. (What do you mean you can’t eat enderpearls? Why don’t more mobs drop meat?)

Ate rotten flesh once, and then decided against it. (It’s too bad you can’t use it to make food. This game is seriously lacking culinary options.)

Prefers to play modded, with loads and loads of food options. (The party server is straight vanilla, so he’s part of another one where he’s more active on… modded with food.)

Is confused why they’d think he’d be interested in mining… he makes food irl?? (Can’t differentiate any stones. Even though they’re different colors)

House was made by Marcille, skin by Fallin. (Previously default Steve skin)

Has a horse named Anne (really crappy… like, he tamed the first horse that looked like her so it’s only slightly faster than running and can barely clear a two block jump)

Gamer tag is ChefSenshi402

Izutsumi

Falin made her skin a cat girl (previously one of the default skins (can’t remember any of the other ones, but not Alex or Steve))

Doesn’t really understand Minecraft, or why people want to play it.

Has a hoard of cats, but only the tuxedo ones. (Because they look like her)

Master of the horse-stats trade, and has had luck with llamas.

(Sorry… I don’t have many ideas for her because I’m not at the part of the show where she’s at)

Gamer tag is Izutsumi1 (Izutsumi was taken for some reason)

Bonus:

Thistle

Moderator and owner of the monster-filled server.

Made 90% of the mods in the server, the only mods he didn’t make are the mods he uses to have his mods to work (like geckolib)

Has two accounts, LordOfTheDungeon, and ThistleThorn

Uses LordOfTheDungeon as his moderator one, and ThistleThorn is for the cosy cottagecore server he’s in.

Had a raffle for the players with the longest time in-server to come up with a monster for him to implement

Laios won, and it’s taken Thistle a while to make his “Ultimate Strongest Monster.” (Multiple heads and attacks are time consuming.)

Falin is also a moderator on his server, with a fake gamer tag of “Chimera” (Laios doesn’t know that, but she thinks it’s fun to watch the custom mobs roam around.) Has a custom game mode where the monsters don’t attack her, so she can make a little sanctuary for her favorites. (Also uses a different skin for the server, per the request of Thistle)

There’s an unknown person who’s a moderator that’s skin is lion-like, who’s gamer tag is “BeastWishes”

[scotianostra]

On July 26th 1820 the Union Chain Bridge, across the River Tweed was opened.

The Union Chain Bridge spans the River Tweed between Horncliffe, Northumberland, England and Fishwick, Borders, Scotland. It was designed by Captain (later Sir) Samuel Brown RN, who held patents for the design of the chains, although Brown altered the tower and abutments on the suggestion of John Rennie. When it opened in 1820 it was the longest wrought iron suspension bridge in the world with a span of 137 metres (449 ft), and the first vehicular bridge of its type in the country.

It cost £7,700 to construct and pre-dates the Clifton Suspension Bridge and the Menai Bridge, which are of similar design . Today it continues to carry traffic, and visitors can enjoy pleasant walks along the river bank. Just up the hill from the Union Chain Bridge on the English side is the Chain Bridge Honey Farm, where there is situated a permanent exhibition on chain suspension bridges.

Downstream on the Scottish side is Paxton House, where visitors can see Alexander Naismith's depiction of Union Chain Bridge, painted before its actual completion, as seen in the second picture.

Before the opening of the Union Bridge, crossing the river at this point involved an 11-mile via Berwick upon Tweed. Until 1885, tolls were charged for crossing the bridge; the toll cottage, being at the English end, was demolished in 1955.

The bridge reopened last year after a major £10.5 million restoration. it has been recognised as an International Historic Civil Engineering Landmark, joining the likes of Sydney Harbour Bridge and The Eiffel Tower.

Much ore on the bridge here http://www.unionbridgefriends.com/history/

[whathebeep]

Domestic Life with the companions: Astarion

So like, how I imagine things would be once you and your partner(s) settle down, ofc depending. If folks like this I'll certainly make this a series!

I imagine you two spend a long while adventuring before settling. I like to imagine (whether you declared it to him or not), the goal was always to find a means to get him safely in the sun again. I imagine it took YEARS of travelling to try and find it, but eventually you do come across it. Not a cure by any means, but a ring lost in an abandoned vampire crypt that took you ages to learn about, and ages more to find. And he slips it on his finger and it gives him the means to not only step in the sun, but it also hides his vampiric features, if he so wishes. (I like to think it will make him look as he did before he was changed).

When you make your way back towards Baldur's Gate, you make a point to visit old friends along the way. Visit the now thriving town and nearby Selunite temple, restored to it's glory over the years, thanks to Isobel and Aylin. Shadowheart lives in the small town, I'd like to imagine, having settled there upon her finishing adventuring. She's of course, pleased to see you both and host you, sharing glasses of wine and some good stories and gossip. You two stay for a week or so, taking care to take in the sights, visiting the grove, the old crash site, hell, even Auntie Ethel's former house that had been taken over by some of the druids. You're surprised to discover that even the forge in the underdark has some new occupants, some of the spawn that were freed by Astarion; they have started up a mining operation, and are making quite a good living, the ore they find making good weapons to be made in the forge. From them you learn more settled in the underground near Halsin's community, and would certainly be worth a visit.

Next comes the former shadowlands and Halsin's community; by now so many of the kids he brought along and raised in the orphanage are much older now, either teens or young adults. Halsin, as you can imagine, probably beams at the sight of you two, especially Astarion in the sun, and most certainly drops whatever he's doing and runs over, picking up and hugging you both. He's happy to host you at his home, ThanieI's former place of residence. The building is a lot larger now, but still a homely stone cottage look to it, moss growing up the side and a sizeable willow growing to the side. I imagine you two stay there a few weeks, as there is a lot to see if what has changed, and Halsin is more than eager to show you both around. Everything has been restored and repurposed; Surprisingly, Moonrise has become a school, last light restored to a fully working inn, the inn near moonrise repurposed as the orphanage, the hospital back in working order- hell, even the former Sharan temple in the underdark has been inhabited by a large portion of the spawn and the community there is thriving. Hell they've even constructed a proper entry and exit point that doesn't require them walking through the graveyard, and instead leaves out of that old Shar shrine under the statue in town. (Of course, all Shar symbology has been removed). The area is lively and it's nice to relax, take in the clean air and admire how the land has healed, and the community has thrived.

When you have to leave, Halsin asks you to write once you're back in Baldur's Gate, and promises you a place there, if you ever tire of the city.

Astarion almost seems sad when you two leave.

It doesn't take long for you two to return to the city. When you do, you stay in a room at the elf song while you try and sort out an apartment or home, but within the first day back you're off to see Wyll and Karlach; both back in the gate after a few years in the hells. Her engine repaired to the highest degree, they've settled down together in a home of their very own, and it's of no surprise when there's three kids scrambling about. The two of you had been gone for nearly a decade exploring, I'd like to imagine; so it's of no surprise that they've got three kids, all half tiefling half human, the oldest being five, and the other two being 3 year old twins. Wyll and Karlach both have jobs, Karlach having taken to working at the forge with Dammon, and Wyll working as a private investigator, occasionally writing for the Baldur's Mouth Gazette too.

Seeing them settled like that, Astarion, when you two are relaxing in your room at the elf song, drinking some wine, tries to laugh about it. "Could you imagine settling down like that? Hah!" He says it in a mocking tone, but after nearly eleven years together, give or take, it's easy to see the way he frowns into his wine glass when he looks the other way.

A few weeks after returning to the gate, you receive a letter: Gale is going to be coming through town, and he'd love to visit the two of you. Coincidentally enough, he's moving to Halsin's community, to teach at the school, and will be in town for a day or two and would want to visit.

Upon his visit, the whole group in town get together for dinner and drinks together, Grandpa Ulder having taken the kids for the night. Gale has become quite the accomplished teacher, and has even written more than a handful of academic papers. His move was inspired by wanting to learn more about he other fields of magic, and also to help teach the youth of tomorrow about it too.

There's laughter and jokes and fun stories all around, and eventually Gale asks how the house hunt goes for you and Astarion. The city is ever expanding of course, but there isn't quite anything that the two of you feel confident about quite yet; and there's well wishes on that, and eventually everyone departs for the night.

That night Astarion suggests it, moving there as well. Having a house built on the edge of town, maybe by the water, or up on a hill. It's then that he admits that even though Baldur's Gate had always been home, there's far too many bad memories; and that he'd like making new memories somewhere else.

It takes maybe 3 months before the house is completed. The two of you had travelled back, and stayed in last light until construction was completed. Plans had to be drawn up with what the two of you wanted, a location scouted out, and then of course the process of building it. Stone and wood, two floors, and just up a hill from the water.

Within a year of living there, the house is truly a home. Astarion was enjoying a lot of his free time reading, to the point that a second bookcase had to be commissioned. He took up a job working as a bartender at the last light inn, and a few times a week the two of you meet up with Halsin and Gale to chat, have drinks, discuss things; and whenever it calls for, the two of you pick up your weapons to travel again, albeit a lot more short term.

What more could you ask for?

[oracle-fae]

via

[thedrarrylibrarian]

hey, do you know of any drarry podfics?

Hello! Your holds have arrived!

Yes, I do have some podfics for you! I love listening to a podfic while I'm puttering around the house, or even occasionally on a long trip! It's so calming to have something to keep my mind engaged while I'm doing a repetitive task.

I hope these podfics are exactly what you've been looking for! And don't forget to check out my previous Podfics list!

Podfics 2

Your Presence Against My Skin written by @bafflinghaze, read by JocundaSykes (4 min, rated G)

Nightmares are a part of Harry's life; but so is Draco.

Too Many Potters written by @phdmama, read by @reveriepi (13 min, rated T)

Draco blinks, trying to make sense of what he's seeing.

“Weasley,” he says, not taking his eyes off the sight in the cell, “why are there eleven Potters in Holding B?”

“Twelve, actually,” Weasely replies from his desk. “I think one’s tucked away back in the corner.”

Harry Potter and the Incredibly Organized Personal Assistant written by megyal, read by @HappyHanabi (22 min, rated T)

Harry Potter's new assistant is snarkily organized.

5 times Draco Malfoy lied because of Harry Potter (and 1 time he was uncharacteristically honest) written by Ingi, read by ETL_Echo (26 min, rated G)

Although Draco Malfoy had no qualms against lying, he'd been taught from a young age how to benefit the most from his lies.

His Father had repeated the same over and over again, as Draco grew up: You shall never do anything that provides you no benefit. And Draco had never broken that sacred rule of his family, mostly because he'd never felt the compulsion to do so.

Of course Harry bloody Potter would have to come tumbling and ruin it.

Five Little Things written by @bixgirl1, read by ETL_Echo (38 min, rated T)

Harry was supposed to be good at this.

Still written by alexmeg, read by @reveriepi (47 min, not rated)

Dating Draco Malfoy, Harry thinks, will mean being at arms length outside of sex. No unnecessary physical contact or displays of affection. He wants him anyway, inexplicably. Perhaps that is exactly the kind of person he should be with, someone who will never need Harry to kiss him first, because Harry doesn't think he'll ever be that person.

The Full Monty written by @magpiefngrl, read by @sweatersinthesummer (1 hour, rated E)

Harry poses for a naked Auror calendar and Draco goes batshit crazy with lust.

Pinky Promises Are Powerful Magic written by megyal, read by @reveriepi (1 hour, 11 min, rated T)

Ickle Harry wants to stay with his newest hero.

the way you make me glow written by @softlystarstruck, read by @roseszain (1 hour, 14 min, rated M)

In a cottage next to the sea, love blossoms. Or perhaps it’s been there all along.

Potter written by Quine, read by @peony-podfics (1 hour, 17 min, rated T)

"Potter," Blaise muttered, a strewn over salt shaker in front of him.

"Where?" Draco asked, searching in vain for the raven-haired saviour.

Theo was grinning as he watched their exchange.

"Well," Blaise began, "As you're so fond of blaming all your problems on Potter, I thought I'd give it a try as well."

Crimson Neon written by @xanthippe74 and read by Spades (1 hour, 42 min, rated M)

Winter, 1999. Harry thought going to New York would help him get his head on straight, but all he has to show for it are sore feet and a fridge full of takeaway containers. And now he’s homesick on top of everything else. It doesn’t help that his mysterious neighbour in 2C keeps cooking dishes that remind Harry of home and all the people he lost or left behind.

Human written by @ghaniblue, read by @reveriepi (3 hours, rated E)

Harry isn't dealing well with being bitten and turned into a werewolf. Draco isn't dealing well with Harry packing up and leaving like a thief in the night. Things come to a head in a forest cabin in the German Ore Mountains.

Never Grow a Wishbone written by @shanastoryteller, read by SeaSage (10 hours, 41 min, rated T)

Draco returns to Hogwarts.

He has a duty to his blood and his name and his house, and he will fulfill it.

Always Already written and read by @aibidil (19 hours, 45 min, rated E)

Harry and Draco are perfectly fine, separately minding their business in 2004, when the Unspeakables conscript them into service... in the First War against Voldemort.

Come for mutual pining and forced proximity in a 1980 hotel room, stay for young Sirius and philosophising about immortality and wormholes. And an eighties cowboy soap opera.

❤️ As always, if you find a fic you enjoy, please remember to leave the author a kudos or a comment! ❤️

Lots of Love and Happy Reading!

[kookaburra1701]

WIP Wednesday - A Line-storm Song

tagged by @elfinismsarts @thana-topsy 💚 @viss-and-pinegar @thequeenofthewinter

I am tagging @gilgamish @greyborn2 @dirty-bosmer @skyrim-forever @totally-not-deacon @mareenavee @paraparadigm @polypolymorph

Fandom: The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim Rating: Explicit Category: M/M Genre: Old👏Men👏Yaoi👏 Pairing: Pavo Attius/Gat gro-Shargakh

Summary: Pavo and Gat weather a spring storm in the Reach.

My brain has revolted against only working on Aristeia during NaNoWriMo and I compromised by working on this one-shot which takes place in the same 'verse. I needed to let these two Married Forever guys fuck. And oh boy are they. Excerpt below is not explicit.

-------------

“Rain’s coming,” Gat said, leaning against the smelter as Pavo stepped out of the shadows of Kolskeggr mine. Pavo blinked a little in the late afternoon sun. The golden rays were illuminating white pillars of clouds in the east, only the deep purple shadows beneath them hinting at the possibility of inclement weather.

“I suppose I’ll do the evening chores early then,” Pavo said, moving to stand next to Gat. “Get Juniper settled before the tempest.”

Gat slipped his arm around Pavo’s waist, and Pavo leaned into his comforting bulk. Even after twenty years, his touch never failed to send a thrill down Pavo’s spine.

“I’ll finish up here, get everything secured against the wind,” Gat said against Pavo’s ear, his large tusks tracing the corner of Pavo’s jaw.

“Gat, I’m disgusting, at least wait until I’ve rinsed off!” Pavo yelped as Gat turned and took hold of him with both hands, pulling him close.

“Mmmm, if a little mine dust was a problem—” Gat buried his face in Pavo’s neck while Pavo laughed and tried to push him away. “—I don’t think my people would be nearly as numerous as they are.” He gave Pavo’s neck a final nip before releasing him.

“You’re insatiable,” grumbled Pavo. When he turned to head down the path to their cottage, Gat’s laughter followed him.

The chickens allowed him to drive them into their coop with the bribe of some kitchen scraps, but Juniper, their mule, brayed her protest when he came to collect her from her picket, despite the bucket of oats and corn he rattled at her.

“I know it’s early old girl. But you’ll be glad of the roof and walls tonight, mark my words. Don’t go kicking them down if the thunder gets loud, now.”

As he puttered around the small barn, Pavo heard the front door to the cottage open and shut several times. As he was filling the water trough, Gat appeared in the doorway, wearing a clean shirt with water droplets clinging to the fuzz of his shaved head.

“I left a towel and some clean clothes by the river for you,” Gat said.

“Oh? I thought the dirt was an Orc aphrodisiac,” Pavo said archly. “I’m getting mixed messages here.”

“Smelling like ore is one thing, smelling like Juniper is another.”

“Don’t listen to him Juniper, you smell wonderful.”

Gat laughed, and turned to leave. “I’ll get supper started. Don’t take too long—hey!” He whirled and Juniper brayed and tossed her head at his shout. Pavo just grinned back at him, trying to look entirely innocent and like someone who would never dream of pinching an Orc’s arse.

Shaking his finger at Pavo, and walking backwards until he was well out of range, Gat retreated back to the cottage.

[tangledbea]

Is there any production art of Gothel and Cassandra’s cottage? The layout of it feels so confusing and I can’t find any concept art for it aside from storyboards

I haven't seen any, sorry.

Looking at screencaps, though, it doesn't really confuse me at all. It's a two-room cottage with the door leading into the main living space, where the fireplace and window are (as well as the changing screen).

On the other side of the cottage, behind the partial wall, is the sleeping area.

And that's pretty much all there is to it.

I mean, there's also the passage in the back that's revealed in "A Tale of Two Sisters," but that honestly looks like it was tacked on after the fact, and the original design didn't include it.

My question, though, is what does it need a water wheel for? Water wheels are for creating power, often in a mill, smith, grinding wood into pulp for papermaking, machining, ore crushing, and pounding fiber for use in cloth manufacturing. This is just a tiny cottage with no obvious manufacturing attached to it.

[corellianhounds]

The Sabersmith’s Son

Media: An excerpt from The Princess Bride book, retold in the world of Star Wars

Word Count: 1.6k

Rating: Gen.

Warnings: Canon-typical violence

Art Credit: Jama Jurabaev on ArtStation

Summary: A renowned sabersmith accepts a commission from a wealthy count.

There once was a sabersmith of great renown, known across the entire country for his trade. He was a skilled craftsman, poor but happy, living in a small home with his only child, a son he loved very much and who loved him in return. Every day the sabersmith toiled at the millennium-long craft, building lightsabers from the finest metals and alloys available. He worked in precious metals, ore from meteorites, jewels fit for kings. His sabers were known not only for their beauty but for their precision, well-balanced handles and hilts customized to serve their master’s purpose. It was an honorable trade that brought them much notoriety, and though the smith was an accomplished master he asked payment only for what the blade was worth in materials and labor.

No more, never less.

It was an honest living, enough for him and his son to live comfortably, and to indulge in the occasional wineskin when longtime family friends came to call. One particular friend was a smith himself, or used to be until he got too fat to work the bellows. After that he began to charge more and more in the hopes that people would give up, but still they commissioned him.

Occasionally, the fat friend would find he could not complete a saber to a customer’s specifications and he would beg and plead his friend the poor smith to finish the commission for him. The poor smith would refuse, saying he had his own work to attend to, but his fat friend would cry and plead some more, begging for his help, claiming he would die if forced to turn over something that was of lesser quality than what the customer deserved. The poor sabersith would refuse every time, until eventually his fat friend would claim he would kill himself out of honor for not being able to complete the commission.

At that point his good friend would give in, saying “Only this once, Yeste, no more.” Yeste would weep with joy, thanking him handsomely and giving him the payment. The poor bladesmith had no desire to deal with the rich and courtly types, much happier plying his trade with those who recognized true artistry in the lightsabers’ construction.

When the smith’s boy was ten years old, Yeste was approached by a count in search of a particular hilt to serve his new saber. None had ever been built to his specifications, and upon perusal of Yeste’s portfolio he insisted that Yeste give him the name of the true master sabersmith behind the most stunning of “Yeste’s” work.

After much hemming and hawing the fat man gave the name of his friend and directions to his cottage. The count arrived with his retinue atop gleaming black steeds, cloaked in rich fabrics of deep charcoal and grey. The boy had never seen such a striking figure before and leapt to go find his father, still working tirelessly in the forge.

The count introduced himself and said he wanted to commission a blade to his specifications. When he revealed his obvious need for a modified hilt— one with a handle adjusted to accommodate his particular abnormality— the bladesmith’s eyes lit up at the challenge. Immediately he began to talk of the length and balance of the handle, the measurements and adjustments he would have to make to the inner mechanisms. Pleased that the sabersmith would accept the job, the count promised an absurd amount of money for the lightsaber— more money than either the smith or his son had seen in their entire lifetimes— and said he would be back in a year’s time.

Feverishly the smith set to work planning. Various metals were tested and discarded, alloys adjusted and tempered, cast and smelted. The forge burned endlessly, the ten year old boy shoveling coal for the furnace day and night to keep up with his father’s tireless experimentations. Prototype after prototype were made, measured, and found wanting, discarded yet again in the smith’s frenzied pursuit of perfection. Some days he would sit at the simple kitchen table, weeping into his hands as he despaired over the count’s saber, cursing the day he decided to become a smith, and day after day his son cared for him, reassuring him of his skill and preparing him food as his father pushed himself to his limits.

One night late into the year the boy woke to find his father missing from their room. He got up, rubbing his eyes and pulling on an overcoat to go out to the forge.

In the glowing light of the inner forge the boy found his father seated at his work table, a masterful lightsaber in front of him. The silvery-gold metal seemed to swirl before his eyes under the flickering light of the work torches. The clean, colorless blade hummed, muted and toneless like a hummingbird’s wingbeat. A magnificent saber, perfectly crafted and calibrated with a heart of pure kyber at its center. It was perhaps the finest weapon in all of history.

“Papa?” the boy spoke into the hushed quiet of the forge, almost worried by his father’s stillness. His father extended his arm, wrapping the boy into his side, and the boy could see tears streaming quietly down his face.

“We did it,” his father said hoarsely, squeezing him tight. “It is finished.”

—

The count returned a year to the day he had left the cottage. The sabersmith and his son were fresh-faced and clean, restless with excitement. The count dismounted and approached, taking the hilt of the offered lightsaber in hand, examining it.

But to everyone’s astonishment, he sniffed derisively, and handed it back.

“A subpar delivery for what was expected,” the count said, looking down his nose at the shocked father and son. “I was clearly misled; you are not the finest smith in these provinces as I was told. It is a pitiful attempt as a blade: I will give you a tenth of the price to take it off your hands.”

The boy was shocked, outraged. He strode forward in protest before he was blocked by his father’s hand holding him back. He looked up to see his father’s face almost devoid of emotion, would have thought him dumbfounded to stillness if not for the trembling in his shoulders.

“I have no need of your money,” he said quietly. “I will not burden you with such a piece. You’re not worthy of this weapon. You would never have appreciated its craftsmanship— I will give it to my son. It is his.”

The two men stared at each other, one as still as a hunter, the other quivering like prey.

Without a word the count drew his own lightsaber, red and villainous, and darted forward with inhuman speed to stab the smith through the heart.

The boy screamed. The count stepped away and the smith fell, lifeless, to the ground. The boy, now an orphan, shook his father by the shoulders, begging him to respond, tears clouding his eyes in torrents as he sobbed on his father’s chest, utterly alone.

The count had turned to stride back to his steed when he heard the boy scream behind him. Almost bored, the count looked over his shoulder, stopping halfway before turning fully to face the eleven year old child who now stood to his full height, as lean as the blade he held. There was hardly a warning before the boy lunged, the saber gaining color and momentum as he swung, bringing it down to clash against the count’s saber, green against virulent red.

For the longest minute of their lives the child and the count fought in a flurry of lunges, slashes, parries and blocks, locked in a contest of speed and skill. Both were alarmed by the other’s skill with the blade, and for a considerable length of time they fought, sparks of light streaking through the air. The noble had years of experience and strength behind him, but the boy blazed with the heartbroken, righteous fury of a son whose father was killed before his very eyes. The clarity he dueled the master with was unrivaled by any other the noble had fought in his lifetime, and as the seconds wore on they began to perspire, the ache in their limbs being weighed down by the effort it took to attack and defend again and again.

Eventually though, the noble saw his opening and lunged, disarming the boy and knocking the lightsaber from his hands. The blade extinguished as it fell to the ground, useless and out of reach. The boy stood tall with the count’s saber held beneath his defiant chin, his tears turning to steam as they landed on the blade.

“You’re a tiresome little thing,” the count said, still strangely devoid of emotion. The boy refused to answer him, trembling but staring directly into the noble’s gaze. “But my quarrel is not with you.”

With two quick, precise strikes he scarred the boy’s face on either side as a warning, leaving him crying in agony and anger.

“Bury your father, and pray we never meet again.”

The count extinguished his blade and mounted his steed, riding away with his retinue, never to return.

But the boy lived, vowing to avenge his father’s death. On that day he took up the very saber his father made, setting out to train as a swordsman for the next decade so that when he eventually managed to track down the six-fingered man, he would challenge him to a duel the count would not walk away from.