Forging Bonds

Theoderaf stood in silence, slowly turning the weapon in his hand. He scanned the surface of it, noticing the intricate gold words engraved onto the sides.

Traitors’ Scourge. Theoderaf smiled, looking up from his new sidearm.

“Excellent, brother. The craftsmanship is exquisite.”

Niklaas nodded, his stony expression not joining his brother’s smile. He remained by his forge, the next project already being set up. “I managed to improve the venting mechanism of the plasma pistol, increasing its cooling system by 52%.”

“I guess I could manage with only 52% improvement.” Theoderaf chuckled. Niklaas gave him an unamused look, and motioned to the opposite side of the room.

“Have a go at testing your aim with it, if you feel the need.” Theoderaf turned, raised the pistol and fired, landing a shot straight into a target’s head, the whoomp of the shot echoing in the forge and the ceramite of the target sizzling and melting under the blast.

Of course it was perfectly weighted for me. Theoderaf thought to him.

“Thank you Niklaas, I am truly honoured by the gift. I hope that we can test it in the field together soon.” Theoderaf held out his arm. Niklaas grasped it with a slam of ceramite on ceramite, the corner of his mouth slightly curling upwards.

“It would be my pleasure, brother.” [[Category:F]]