Skold moved through the crowd of Hylians and Gorons, his head held low and forward as it usually was. Those around him gave him a wide berth, his work may have given him a degree of respect of those in the city, but little love. Certainly not to overcome the taboos he had broken, ones that had marred his skin. As his walk grew older, fewer moved out of his way and rather just looked on. In this slum, he felt far more at home than elsewhere in the city, as much as he hated to admit those here whose skin is scarred, minds warped and broken, and eyes an empty abyss like the soul within. Still, he knew what would happen if he loitered, and he had little love for that end. After a few more streets, alleys and other unsavoury places, he stood face-to-face with the dealer, a small man in a tattered and stained robe. Even his voice was squeaky and high, one might expect it to belong to a rat more than a man. But as much as he hated being near the man, his was the best in the city. “Back for more eh? Hehe, when was the last time? Ohhh, it must have been… 5 days ago! Haha”, the thing laughed, he knew that Skold relied on him for his fix, “I’m not one of your regular junkies, I pay, I don’t rob, kill or cut for you; now hand it over.” and produced a purple rupee from his pocket. Skold could swear the man smiled under his hood, “Yes, yes, but you should consider working for me. I could use your skills and you could have more of this as well as some; special stock, hm?” Pulling out a moderate size sack from his own robes and exchanging it for the rupee in Skold’s hand; before the Goron turned and simply walked away without another word, ‘We both know how that would end’.
One might not expect a Goron to be robbed in the slums, not when he looked little better than the poor beggars and the working poor that filled the area. Not when he clearly had more muscle than other targets or when the target was well known to have admirers, albeit not friends, in high places. Yet those more desperate than Skold would do so, much to their lament. “Now I think you’ve got something on ya’,” About 5 Hylians came from around the corner bearing shivs, clubs, one could even afford a knife! (Or had the good sense to steal it) And each looked worse than most of the beggars he had seen, and then there was the crazed look in their eyes; the kind you get when you have an itch. He knew that most wouldn’t last til the end of the year, hell without a jump they’d all be gone in a week. “See we run dis here part of town, we’s da ones who run it, and we don’t like your kind. So here’s da deal, you give us dat der bag ya gots and we don’t crack ya open and see wut rocks you got’s for guts, hur hur.” One that spoke seemed the sanest of them all, and seeing as the other two in front of him had obvious shakes, and he swore that the whispering behind him was from just one person, that didn’t say much. Not that it could either, the speaker’s face was scarred with the record of innumerable fights, going by wrinkles along he’d been in his fifties and barely had two teeth to bite with. Still, five against one was not good odds, and with a smooth, slow motion he reached into his clothes and pulled out the bag that made all the pain go away. The blackened hand outstretched to the shrivelled one, before its bony fingers closed around it. “Hur, hur! I told you lot that this ones easy pickens’!” he squealed, holding the prize up high and turning to show off to those behind him. “Now we’s just split the loot likes we always do, and I da first pick of i-“ The braggart was cut off by a Goron’s fist slamming into his face.
The right hand of the Goron smashed the robber’s face while the left much more gracefully grabbed the goodie bag that was in his hand. He calmly replaced the bag in his coat and moved in between the shocked muggers, their faces bent in horror and surprise at what had become of their co-conspirator. It is true that five against one is a major advantage; surprise and, shock and awe are as well. In the end Skold simply walked away from the scene he had made, unsure of whether or not he had just killed a man; though in truth he simply didn’t care. The world put them both in that alley, and one had come on top, and that was good enough for him. The rest of walk home brought him back to civilization, here the people seemed to thrive and proper. Each knew where their next meal would come from, or at least knew that it was coming. Here, even the lowliest members lived like princes compared to beggars in the slums; and kings to Skold himself, as even the building he lived in reflected. It had obviously been built of scrap lumber, held together by too many nails and planks acting as improvised supports; the lumber was greyed with age, having never been painted; windows filled; chimneys haphazardly sprouted from the roof and otherwise in a general state of disrepair. The tumblers and gears clicked as the key turned in the hole and door ground open, the interior revealed itself to be in worse condition than it’s shell, tools strewn everywhere, open bags of charcoal sat piled in the corner, and weapons in various stages of completion could be seen throughout the workshop. He paid no heed and simply moved up the creaky stairway and into a storeroom above. Even here where he slept were no comforts, just a dusty, cramped room with an old mattress and shelves of metal bars and broken weapons decorating the walls. Here he sat down, packed his pipe with a few grams of sulphur and phosphorus and about one of lithium with a dash of charcoal dust for a quick burn. Then, after everything that had come before, simply lit the pipe and breathed deeply; letting the calm take him as he collapsed on the mattress underneath.
A couple light kicks to his side, woke Skold up, but one would never guess it. The kicker was his master, a expert smith who saw talent, or at least profit, in the young Goron and took him under his wing. His eyes cracked open and his back creaked up. A few rays of light illuminated the dusty room and, in a way, were useful, as now a window wasn't needed; though the builders probably didn't think about it. "Skold get up, we need to talk, well we a fuck-ton more than just tal- WAKE UP DAMN IT!" The smith screamed, kicking Skold again. In truth, he was used to this kind of treatment, back at the estate he got it all the time, but just like the killer hangover he's got now, it wasn't welcome. "I work tomorrow, not today." Skold groaned, he normally had to be woken up this way, but today was a rare day off. "Sorry, but... Look, those people you go to or hangout with or whatever, they came to my house last night; broke in, attacked me, threatened my son. They were looking for you." He stopped and looked down, ashamed of either what he was about to say or what he going to. "I need you gone Skold, today. But I've got a duty as your teacher and master so here, use these-" he reaches for the top shelf, pulling two full, pure, brilliant, if dusty, blocks of Goron iron. "Use these and make something. We both know any of your work would do it, but make it something you want, something you'll use; tradition dictates you get to keep your journeyman's work... and I'm sorry you have to go like this. I'll be back at the end of the day and I'll even throw you a party, if only so those scum know you're gone." Even after his master left Skold remained staring at the spot on floor he had the entire speech. He kept thinking of what he would do after, where he would go. Nothing came to him. Still, he had more pressing matters, that of his test. True, he could make a common shield and pass with flying colors but he knew he couldn't just do that. Even if those dusty, brass colored blocks were warmer than his heart he couldn't just sell himself out like that. Than what? Something to mock them, something to mock them all, to prove them blind and hypocrites. A pair of something: the same, yet different. Mirrors of eachother, a symbol of his poor luck but vast skill. Something that would show he could crush them in any real test of a person, not those prissy mock duels and courts but as a Goron, A Hyrulian, even a damned Hylian. Gauntlets would test him to the limit.
