5 Word Challenge #28

October Knight

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Preferred Character Gender
  1. Male
Fantasy, Horror and Sci-fi. I'll try basically anything though. I also love strange and unusual RP genre concepts. Different is good!
5 Word Challenge Brought to you by: October Knight
[bg=#006633]This challenge is to help strengthen your vocabulary. You'll learn new words and how to use them in roleplay posts, stories, poems, etc! Instructions: 1. Aim for a minimum of 1-3 paragraphs. If you'd like to write more than that, then go for it! 2. Make sure you use each word in your post. Be as creative as you'd like. 3. Style the writing like you would for a story. It can be describing a setting, or written from the perspective of a character. Whatever you feel would work the best. 4. Have fun with this, of course! The Words:
  • Braze (v.) - To make of or ornament with brass.
  • Bullock (n.) - An ox.
  • Caitiff (adj.) - Cowardly.
  • Coerce (v.) - To force.
  • Defray (v.) - To make payment for.

The sun was hanging low over the lake, causing a reflection to spread across the surface and tint the water orange with its dying rays of light, heralding the end of the day. For the townspeople, whose days had been full and rewarding as a whole, it was a signal to begin getting into their beds and all those still left on the streets were hurrying back to the safety of their homes with caitiff glances at alleyways already beginning to darken. Bells rang from the church on the hill, the discordant chiming reminding the townsfolk that they needed to muster the courage and ask the blacksmith to braze a new bell for the church but it had been like that for more than a fortnight and all were still afraid to approach the wooden structure on the outskirts of their peaceful dwellings.

A lone figure made his way down the shoddily cobbled path the made up the main walkway through the sleepy town, leading behind him a placid bullock who seemed less like he was being coerced and more like he was willingly following the man who held his rope. From their windows, people watched his progression, slow as a funeral dirge. When he had passed their homes, they exhaled a breath that they did not realize that they had been holding. The figure, robed in black with a hood hiding his face from the dim light, struck an imposing silhouette in the half-light of dusk but the people knew that it was not the lighting that inspired their true fear of him and that they would be every bit as wary of him in the full light of day.

The blacksmith was a master of his craft, few would even consider arguing that his work put all other to shame. The fear came from the stories told about him, that his work was so great because he made a deal with the devil to gain the adept and agile hands that rivaled the skill of the demon lord himself. Few were willing to ask him for pieces, though the things he made were exceptionally good. Rumor had it that he made shoes for the horse of the messenger the village employed and that the horseshoes were crafted from white iron and dark fire; they swore that the horse's speed doubled or tripled but that the messenger, who fell ill, did not have the money to repay the blacksmith and instead had to defray the cost by selling his soul.

The less superstitious or those who tried to appear brave swore that they wouldn't talk to the blacksmith because of his surly attitude, but even the animals shied away when we walked. Children listened to the heeding of their parents and wouldn't go near him at all, and still the bell became more worn out every season. People would make any excuse not to talk to him or ask him for his services, yet somehow he never suffered for money. It only added to their suspicion of him.

Things continued in this fashion until winter, perhaps two years after the bell had showed its first signs of wear. A woman came into town on the eve of the winter solstice and the weather was celebrating in due fashion with snowflakes falling heavily from the sky. All the homes turned her away, for they could see the swell of her stomach and the pallor of her features - the pregnant woman was dying and not a one of them wanted to be responsible for the child. Finally, having begged and pleaded for shelter through the whole village, the woman came upon the house of the blacksmith, who opened the door before she'd even knocked upon it.