Andro sat patiently as he waited within the interior of the shop that belonged to the well known smith, Deagon. His entrance exam to join the Metal League was going to start tomorrow and he wanted to be sure he was plenty prepared. He had placed this order during the last week of his training and had arrived less than an hour ago with the intention of picking it up. Deagon was perhaps one of the most skilled metalsmiths he knew of within the City limits and trusted no other craftsman with his equipment.

  While he waited for the older Dwarf to emerge from the back of his shop so he could claim his gear. As he waited, Andro held his hand to his chest and focused on calling up his soul window, but specifically to his current rank. The swirling circular window took form in front of him, but instead of the usual window menu, it opened straight into displaying his rank. For the first time in decades, a simple empty triangle slowly shifting in his colors stared back at him, the symbol of someone as a fresh novice. His old rank as a sixth star Journeyman was nowhere to be seen

  The doors to the shop swung open, his soul window instantly vanishing as he looked up to see the newcomer. A pale woman wearing simple clothing and a stern look strode inside the front waiting area, her icy blue gaze scanning the available seats. As she walked, she carried herself with a confidence that gave Andro a chill. Her hair was the color of freshly fallen snow and was kept tied into a tied braid that was draped over her shoulder. His battle instincts told him she would be a powerful foe if ever crossed, something he had no intention of doing.

  Her gaze fell onto him, lingering for a moment as he sat there in a wooden chair, his own gaze matching hers. She gave him a greeting nod before finding her own chair to claim, and as she sat there her demeanor shifted to give off a surprisingly motherly feel. His moment of examination had allowed him the opportunity to see that while her overall features carried the presence of an unbreakable glacier, she still possessed softer edges like a calm winter's day. Part of him felt he recognized her from somewhere, but he was unsure as to exactly from where it was.

  It wasn’t much longer after she sat down that the door at the side of the long counter slammed open and an older dwarf with long graying hair and beard stepped out. Both his hair and beard were unruly and stained with soot and leaving barely his eyes exposed.

  “All right Sir Maxon I just need,” He started to say with a slightly inpatient tone, but stopped upon seeing the woman.

  “Good morning Deagon.” She greeted him with a nod, her voice carrying an odd chilling reverberation that did nothing to hide the femininity in it, but still filled it with a sense of authority and power. Andro couldn’t help but feel as if the temperature of the room dipped slightly as she spoke, and a chill traced its way down his spine.

  “Amron got caught up and forgot to get repairs done, could you possibly expedite this?” She asked him while standing up and pulling a damaged chain mail shirt from a small pouch on her belt that was obviously a Dipo-bag. The armor looked to be designed to fit under a set of loose robes instead of plate and was heavily torn near the gut area.

  Deagon stepped over, taking off his heavy gloves before taking the chain mail into his rough hands and examining the damaged section. Andro could hear him grumbling to himself, something about wings and getting bit, but looked up and gave the woman a nod.

  “Aye, I can do that,” He said before walking back over and behind his counter, setting the chainmail down in the process. “Let me finish my business with this young man and I’ll get started on it.”

  She looked back over to Andro and nodded her agreement but still raised a puzzled eyebrow. “You work by referral only Deagon, not to be rude but with his young appearance, what earned his recommendation?" She asked, her tone polite despite the way her question was worded.

  ‘I’m probably older than you’ Andro couldn’t help but think, but obviously not saying that out loud as he estimated her to be in her late twenties, early thirties at the most.

  “It was his sister that gave the recommendation,” Deagon spoke as he ran his thick fingers through his rough beard. “The young miss of the Maxon house people have named the Cleaving Butcher.”

  The woman let out a hum of amusement as she gazed at Andro with a new interest, her features remaining as steady as a tundra.

  “I am curious as to what a member of the house of Seers could be seeking from an armor smith such as Deagon?” She inquired as her gaze once more examined him, “Would it be an overstep as to request to view it?”

  “His stuff” Deagon shrugged before turning back towards the side door, “Up to him if you get to ogle him as he tries it on.”

  Andro frowned at the dwarf’s choice of words, but he honestly didn’t mind if the woman wanted to see. More than thirty years as both an adventurer and a high ranking military official had long shredded any sense of shyness one could hold.

  “I don't mind” he answered as he moved to follow Deagon, “I’m going to be seen wearing it soon anyways, no harm in someone getting an early view.”

  In no time the three of them stood in the back of Deagon’s shop, tables with various tools lined the walls as a glowing forge sat tucked into the corner. A single covered armor stand stood in the center of the open space and without a single hint of flourish or grander, Deagon yanked the cloth covering it off. The armor that greeted Andro’s eyes couldn’t have been more perfect for him.

  The majority of the gear was a deep brown padded leather that was looser around the joints and thicker around the important spots such as thighs, forearms, and similar spots. A solid metal breastplate covered the entire chest with the rest of the stomach covered in overlapping layers of chain and leather. A solid steel helm shaped to cover someone's entire head rested on the tops of the stand with only a long horizontal slit to see from.

  Solid pauldrons just big enough to cover his collarbones along with greaves big enough to cover up to just under his knees were the only other signs of metal on the armor. Andro slowly walked around it, his hands caressing the expertly worked leather and masterfully shaped metal, admiring every inch of it. To say he was pleased with what he saw would be a complete understatement.

  “Deagon this is wonderful” He breathed out as he felt the smooth boiled leather under his fingers, but turned a confused look towards the Dwarf, “But where did the pauldrons and greaves come from? I only paid for the chest piece.”

  “Well, stop wasting time and let's get you into it so I can see if any adjustments need to be made.” Deagon barked out, seemingly ignoring Andro’s question as he started pulling the pieces off the armor rack. “And yes, I know you only paid for the chest piece, but I had some extra Mythril left over from another project, so I figured why not. Young Miss Kayla said this stuff would be for your exam.”

  Deagon explained all this as he worked on helping Andro get all the pieces put on. Andro wanted to protest the generosity, but stayed silent knowing it would be useless. If there was one thing he recalled about the dwarven craftsmen, was his legendary stubbornness. It was one of the reasons he only worked by recommendation as too many walk-in customers would just walk out pissed off when he wouldn’t go out of his way to please them.

  Under the expert assistance of Deagon, Andro was dressed in his new armor and currently twisting around and stretching in the ways Deagon instructed so as to see the fit. What the two failed to expect was Andro diving off to the side at an empty space of floor before rolling back up to his feet in a fighting stance. Following that, he jumped as high as he could then dashed to the side the moment his feet landed on the ground, only coming to a stop right before he ran into a table.

  “I can’t imagine a better set of armor to own, Master Deagon,” Andro said, turning towards the dwarf, “It sits in all the right places, the weight is evenly distributed nor does it feel too tight around the joints. I can't thank you enough for creating it”

  Deagon’s response was to snort as he crossed his arms, “You better be, normally I refuse to do work for noble kids fresh from their choosing. Luckily for you your sister is well respected so her insisting you weren’t one of them entitled brats went a long way.” The dwarf explained as he walked over and examined a few of the joints. “Not only that but you actually sounded like you knew what you were talking about when making your request. Too many of those spoiled brats care more about what the armor looks like than actual functionality. All they care about is making it shiny and expensive” He said this last part with a scowl.

  “I find I must agree with Deagon,” The woman said, giving the dwarf a nod, approval in her tone before asking. “When was your choosing?”

  “Last day of Telany” Andro replied, slipping the helm back off his head and tucking it under her arm out of habit.

  The woman eyed his actions but gave him a slow nod and turned back towards Deagon and said, “I'll be by before you close tomorrow." Then she strode back to the entrance of the shop, calling out over her shoulder, “It was nice to meet you Andro Maxon. I look forward to seeing what you can do.”

  Before Andro could respond, she had slipped out the door and was gone. He looked back to Deagon with a confused look and asked, “If you don't mind me asking, but who exactly was that? She never introduced herself”

  “That kid was Kalicena Von’Norman, The Devil of Winter” The dwarf answered with a chuckle as he moved to help Andro out of the armor.

  Andro turned back to the door and stared, his eyebrow raised. There was no way it was the same Kalicena that Madeline mentioned, could it?

  The next day found Andro and Chen strolling down the streets of Venilar in the early morning as the two made their way towards the Mettle League. Andro decided to wear his armor in order to break it in as much as he could before the exam. His new short spear had the blade wrapped up in cloth as he carried it, letting it rest loosely on his shoulder. Chen walked beside him wearing a loose set of robes that offered very little in terms of protection other than the weather, but it maximized his range of movement.

  The robes had actually been a gift from Andro’s mother and were colored in shifting shades of blue and trimmed in reds and oranges. What made Chen treasure it the most was she had actually hand stitched the entire thing as essentially her way of welcoming him as part of the family. Chen had originally attempted to insist the gift was unnecessary, but in a true mothers fashion she made it clear he had no choice but to accept the gift. According to her, Chen’s unwavering support and friendship with Andro has more than proved he deserved to be part of the family so a gift here and then was bound to happen.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  Andro glanced over at his friend and let out an internal chuckle upon seeing that at some point during their walk Chen had slipped out of the top parts of the robes, leaving himself bare chested. The young martial artist was absentmindedly caressing one of the soft sleeves, a small smile on his face. Andro then glanced at his own gift presented by his mother, a cloak big enough to cover his upper body and upper legs, the entire thing sewn and colored to look as if a layer of bronzed sand hung from his shoulders.

  He had no idea where his mother had gotten that kind of material, but he was more than grateful. He couldn't help but notice that the brighter bronze of the cloak paired well with the darker brown of his armor’s leather sections and contrasted beautifully with the blue tinted Mythril on the rest of his gear. While the cloak had no inherent magical effects, as it was made mostly to offer some weather protection or to function as a blanket when camping, he already had plans on taking it to an enchanter once he earned some funds with the league. A proper self-repair enchantment would be necessary as he would be upset if it was ruined.

  He was so deep in thought it took him a few moments to realize that Chen had spoken to him. “I’m sorry, what?” he said lamely and got a snort from Chen.

  “I asked how much your armor cost?” Chen repeated and Andro winced.

  “Everything I had left” he replied, lifting up an arm to look at the Mythril armguards. “It actually cost more than what I had, and I was going to borrow some from Kayla, but Deagon insisted the armguards and greaves were his idea and made from leftover material, so he didn’t charge for those.” Andro tapped on the metallic breastplate that covered his chest and explained, “This alone cost more everything else combined, except maybe the helm. The only reason I could even afford the breastplate and helm was I had been originally intending to go to the Torm College and had been saving up for that.”

  Chen nodded while letting out a low whistle. “Makes you wonder about all those guys running around in full sets of enchanted Mythril plate or even Obsidium.” He said with a far away look on his face, but shook his head and looked back to Andro. “Didn’t your family want to buy you the best gear possible?” He asked, then added “I know you guys are all about not throwing money around, but knowing your mother…” He trailed off, rubbing his robes sleeve again almost as if to emphasize his point.

  Andro couldn’t help but laugh and shook his head before responding, “Oh don’t worry, she tried too. It took bother Father and Grandmother to keep her from emptying our savings vault buying me and you gear.” Andro reached up and touched the cloak hanging off his shoulders, “I love my mother and I’m not against the idea of help or gifts, but this was something I feel I need to do on my own as much as possible. It makes it feel like more of an actual accomplishment, like this was something I earned with my own hands and not just handed to me just because of my family name.” He explained all this with a seemingly wistful look on his face, like he was observing some far away goal that was just within reach.

  What he failed to mention, or even give away on his face was that in his previous life, that was exactly what he had done. He had relied too heavily on his family name and not on his own deeds and actions. Even after the incident, the wealth his family had gained dried up in less than a decade leaving him with nothing but a nearly empty house. This time however he refused to allow himself to be that ignorant and naive.

  Chen had looked up in thought as he processed Andro’s words, mulling it all over before nodding and replying, “That makes sense. While I am sure it is nice to be part of a daily wealthy family, accomplishing all that on your own will make it all the more special and mean more.”

  The two young men finished the journey to the league in a companionable silence and entered the front doors. Madeline was already greeting them with a smile as they entered and waved them over to the counter that she manned, her smile growing even warmer as Andro slipped his helm off.

  “It is so wonderful to see you both again” She said cheerily, her smile unwavering and full of joy. “And I must say you two look absolutely dashing in your new gear. Are you here to take the exam?”

  Andro and Chen nodded at the same time, however Chen did so while trying to hide the blush on his face at the dwarven clerk's complement.

  “Thank you for the compliment Madelin, you look just as lovely as ever” Andro replied, giving her his own compliment and smile, “Where would you like us to go for the exam?”

  Madeline in response blushed and fanned herself before answering with a giggle, “Oh such a gentleman. You two can head out back and join the others who have already arrived. Examiner Lionel should be joining you all shortly and conduct today's exam. Good luck boys.” She said, giving them a flirty wave and a bright smile.

  Chen blushed a little harder at the antics going on but returned the wave and followed the chuckling Andro who also returned Madelin’s wave. The two of them had been coming here so often over the past few weeks that now he recognized many of the league members sitting at the long tables or examining the job board. Some sent him greetings and others even wished the two of them luck on the exams.

  Just as Madelin had described, there was a small group of young people milling about the center of the courtyard. Andro internally groaned and slipped his helm back on upon seeing one of them in particular. That one specifically gave off an air of arrogance and entitlement as he pretty much scowled at everyone else present. He looked visibly disgusted to be near them as if he found them or their equipment filthy. He himself was dressed in the most elaborate battle robes one could imagine, decorated in enough jewels they could easily buy Andro’s entire armor set twenty times over.

  The robes were a deep crimson red trimmed with gold and silver as well as extra overlays of a metallic black that could only be Obsidium. Andro couldn't help but feel if he took away all the jewels, the robes themselves would almost look like rolling magma. That gave him a bad feeling as it gave him an idea of what family the young man belonged to, and he hoped he was wrong. If his guess was correct, it would mean he belonged to house D’lavick, one of the high noble families known for having concepts related to either earth or magma. Something that the family all shared besides their gaudy fashion sense, was a famously short temper that went along with their ego.

  The young man spotted them approaching and his scowl managed to deepen at seeing the basic nature of their equipment. It was obvious he was among those who cared more about the expense put forth into gear and not the actual quality.

  “Watch out for the glitter bag” Andro whispered to Chen, not allowing his movements to announce he was speaking. “If my guess is correct on which family he belongs to, they are practically the prime definition of entitled nobility.”

  Chen let out a snort of amusement at the comment, something the young noble in question seemingly took offense in.

  “What is so amusing, Commoner?” he sneered, the word commoner coming out as if it were an insult from the emphasis he placed in it.

  His face was narrow and pointed with oily black hair swept back and coiled tightly into a bun. His sneer only made his features appear sharper and Andro couldn’t help but imagine a staring goblin in comparison. That only brought forth a snort out of himself, something that only ignited the anger in glitter bags even more as he straightened to his full height, seething, and coming up a whole head shorter than Andro. If Andro had actually been as young as he looked, he would have probably laughed even more at the young D’lavick.

  “You are laughing in the face of High Nobility” He all but screeched, “My father will have your families banished by the end of the day.” He stated this will all the confidence and arrogance that only someone with the actual capability could portray. His smirk carried an obnoxious level of smugness as he continued, “Perhaps if you groveled at my feet and begged for my forgiveness while licking my boot, I could pretend this never happened and my father will never hear of it.”

  His smug smile faltered and he froze when both Chen and Andro simply walked right past him to join the rest of the group of people, who in turn looked at the two as if they just personally insulted the council. Once they found a decent spot to wait, the two began to discuss what they believed would be part of the exam, and what the examiner would be like.

  Glitter bags on the other hand stood there for a long moment, completely dumbfounded as if he couldn’t comprehend the idea that someone would intently defy him, let alone out right ignore him. Rage consumed him, contorting his features as realization set in and he whirled around to face them.

  “How dare you defy a High Noble of House D’Lavick!” he growled out with clenched fists, the ground beneath him beginning to glow with building heat and he took a step forward.

  “You two commoners need to be put in your…” He started to say, but a booming voice echoed out through the courtyard, interrupting him.

  “Mr. D’lavick! Finish that threat and I will personally deliver you home with my foot in your ass.”

  The young noble spun back around, some of his rage still present, only to see a bare chested man who appeared to be trying to compete with Terry in terms of size striding over, a frown on his face.

  “That's lord D’la…” The young man tried to seethe out, but was once again interrupted by the approaching living wall of muscle.

  “Wrong.” He barked out as he waved his hand dismissively as he arrived directly in from the young man towering over him.

  “While you are here taking MY exam, you are Mr. D’lavick. Here at the League the only thing that matters is the rank of your medallion, something you don't even have yet so you are lucky to at least get a Mr. instead of brat.”

  The young D’lavick looked too stunned to speak, and based on his facial features he was struggling to try and understand everything that was happening. The large man leaned down to get even closer to the young noble, a short braided beard dangling in front of the younger man's face. A kilt crafted of various furs was wrapped around the man's waist and hung just past his knees. Unlike that man’s well kept beard, his hair was loose and wild.

  “However, if you insist on keeping up this attitude,” he growled, sharp canines visible inside his mouth as his lips curled back in a vicious grin as his beastly yellow eyes only intensified, “You will no longer be permitted the respect of Mr. or even brat. Instead you shall be called foot warmer. Attack any of your fellow examinees without my permission, and you actually become my foot warmer as I walk you back to family. Do I make myself clear?”

  By now the man was looming over the young D’lavick to the degree he was forced to lean back. To his credit, very little fear was present in his face despite the obvious threat. His anger had been dimmed, but it was clear he still seethed on the inside.

  “My father will hear about this.” He growled out through clenched teeth as he met the man' s gaze.

  “Your father?” The man asked, pulling himself back to stand up straight before throwing his head back in booming laughter as if he was just told the best joke of his life. By now it was more than just the group of exam takers staring at the altercation. Many of the actual League members had been watching the spectacle, some with amusement and others with a frown and a shake of their head.

  “By all means, go ahead and return home and tell your dear

  Father, my new foot warmer.” The man proclaimed as his laughter died in an instant. “You can be the one to have the honor of explaining to him that I do not care. Not only that, but you shall be given the honor of explaining to him why the League will cut all connections with house D’lavick, along with every other adventuring, delving and porters guild within the borders of Venilar.” His tone grew more bored and neutral as he explained, as if it were the most natural outcome of today's exam.

  Shocked gasps and whispers passed throughout the group as

  everyone present instantly gossiped amongst themselves. The young D’lavick noble only looked stunned, as if he couldn’t understand how his threat not only failed but was turned back against him.

  “You…You can’t do that!” he stammered out while taking a step back, desperately trying to maintain control of the situation. “That would ruin my family's reputation.”

  “Can’t I?” the man asked with a raised eyebrow leaning back over the young man and tapping the platinum amulet that hung around his neck. The amulet held the appearance of a round broken shield that had been fused back together, cracks visible where the pieces had been put back together while chips and nicks could still be seen at the edges. A well worn sword hilt poked out from behind the shield and on the surface was a winding road that disappeared off into a distant mountain. On the border of the shield was engraved the motto of the Mettle League ‘From Battle and through Travel, we shall test our Mettle.’

  “How much are you willing to bet on it, little foot warmer?” The man said in a near whisper, yet loud enough it was easily heard. “How much do you want to bet I haven't done this before?”

  The young D’lavick looked nervously between the man's face and the medallion, his nervousness was as clear as day on his face and Andro didn’t blame him. Platinum was about as high as someone could get within the ranks of the league, and that meant the man held quite a bit pull within the League. So it wasn’t too far-fetched to assume that when the man threatened to cut all ties the League had with house D’lavick, it was something that was quite possible.

  The young D’lavick opened and closed his mouth a few times as he struggled to come up with a response, but he settled on a minor glare and kept his mouth shut. Another moment later, he took a step back and looked away, indicating his submission.

  “Good lad.” The man said with a smile as he straightened back up. “Now, the rest of you quite gawking and fall in, we have an exam to conduct, do we not?”