The Tales of Massius Blackiron

This is the story of a savage by the name of Massius Blackiron. Unlike most other savages who lived out in the desert, Massius had a family name. Most savages were content enough to be alive so they had no need for a lineage; it’s not like they had much of a story anyway. Not Massius though. The Blackirons were a noble family that served as Knight Errants centuries ago. Every night his grandfather would fill Massius’s head with tales of his great ancestor’s legends. How his ancestor forged a suit of armor black as midnight which could withstand even the darkest magics and could shrugs off the mightest of swords. Then there were the tales of the sword the size of a man that his ancestor wrested from the hands of a Fire Giant who ravaged the fairy lands to his dying breath. Finally there was the tale of how his ancestor slipped a scale from a wicked god, fitted a strap to it, and bore it as his shield to defeat another wicked god. Truly the Blackiron name was a glorious one.

To follow in these grand footsteps Massius taught himself the arts of blacksmithing, that he might recreate his ancestor’s adventures. He wasn’t content being a savage, you see. This was a difficult task that he perhaps wasn’t fully up to. You see, savages are not well learned people and their ability to read, write, perform math, and generally acquire the materials necessary to do these things is limited. Luckily their home camp wasn’t far from an oasis that desperate travelers would stop by. In exchange for food, directions, and a skin to carry water in, people would barter away anything, including knowledge. In fact, words were the thing that people loved to sell Massius the most.

Many travelers were just so desperate that they would tell Massius anything he wanted to hear that they make survive the harsh desert sands. This was okay. Massius was able to discern lies like no one else and could tell when his leg was being pulled. He didn’t mind and would help them regardless. It was the noble thing to do and the Blackirons needed to be noble. Of course this meant that everyone took advantage of Massius.

Through the deceptions Massius was able to discern the basics of algebra and geometry though. While he still could not read or write, the language of math was one that could be conveyed without words. Be bartered away whatever he could to get his hands on daggers and scabbards, swords and hammers, axes and gauntlets, anything. Through these instruments he deconstructed he learned that metal must be somewhat malleable and that certain angles and thicknesses were better than others for certain weapons.

When he first heard the tales of his grandfather he thought that the suit of armor must have weighed a thousand thousand stones and the sword was twice as heavy. By the time he was of age to decide his life without his family, he knew well that the sword in the story was most likely only a single stones worth of weight. He worked on a bad anvil with a worse hammer and almost no fire. His creations were poor in quality, but the artisanship was obvious. His first quest in life was to spread the name of the Blackiron family once more, that all would know Massius, and he would forge the blackest armor which could shunt the mightiest of black magics and vile fires.

The first destination for Massius from his home was into the Deviled Hills. Massius assumed he would find many mighty monsters to slay to build his name. Instead, through his journey there, he discovered how delicious their eggs were. I cannot believe how good these eggs are, he thought to himself.

That night Massius looked for a friendly bed to sleep in. He was not accustomed to the idea that all things are not shared. The first home he tried to break into threw a cleaver at his head. He assumed he had come in on them consummating. He apologized profusely. They thought him a drunk.

The second home was well lit and not so much a home as a gambling den. There he met a strange man who wished to play him at cards. Massius knew much of math and could hammer iron finer than most others, but he did not know cards. Of course Massius agreed. First the stranger stole all of Massius’s money and then he geared his eyes at his possession. Massius was having a wonderful time and these cards were tremendous fun. The stranger took notice of the insignia of the Blackiron family and became desperate. He wagered small at first, in exchange for the insignia. Massius agreed, not thinking better of it, and won by sheer luck against the man.

Furious at his loss, the man bet again, doubling his offer. He lost. Then again he doubled and his desperation turned to perspiration. He lost. He lost again. He lost until every penny he had stolen was back in Massius’s hands. He didn’t understand how he was losing, the game was rigged and Massius was an idiot regardless. It was the insignia. He was bound to the insignia and he needed it.

So gregarious was Massius that he had hardly noticed he had won back his money until the man exclaimed that he would bet his very life for the insignia. Massius was confused but agreed for the fun of it. He assumed the man was up to some game and he would take the piece and both would go home richer for the fun. The man lost again. The man began to explain that his name was Shylaxaol Hnxy and that he was a ratman forever in servitude to the Blackiron family. Why that’s my family name, Massius burst out happily.

I’m not going to turn you into my slave though. You’re a free man, ignore the bet, Massius exclaimed. Legendary men were known for slaying dragons and giants, not for taking slaves. He would not sully his reputation over something so petty. Shylaxaol insisted. Well, if you must accompany me then so be it, but you sure don’t look like a rat man, Massius chuckled. Also your name is stupid, I’m going to call you Shanky, Massius said while slapping Shanky on the back.

Shanky’s eyes gleamed as he stared at the insignia. If he could snatch it away with his paws in the night, he would be forever free.

And so Shanky tried to nick the insignia of the Blackiron family. He tried and failed night after night. It was as if any act he did to oppose the insignia was bound to fail and only further indebt him to Massius. The first attempt was a simple grab and run which failed when he overestimated his ability to jump out of three story high windows and broke his leg. Massius nursed him back to health.

The second try was to mail the insignia away by carrier from the room. The plan would have worked brilliantly had he not stolen money from the sleeping Massius in front of the carrier to pay the fee. The carrier called the town sheriff and had Shanky locked up. Massius recovered his insignia, paid for the letter to be sent, and recovered Shanky from jail saying it was all a misunderstanding.

Finally Shanky was subdued and submitted to his fate. He would be a despicable person to keep trying to steal that insignia. Instead, he would just wait for Massius to die and then take it. So it was settled and the two happy companions traveled on to the flooded bog lands of the south. It was several weeks’ travel through which they came upon a rather spectacular fair.

It was a traveling circus and Massius needed to know if he was stronger than the strong man there. The strong man was a goliath of a man and Massius thought to himself that if he couldn’t even handle a man, how was he going to fight a giants and dragons and wicked gods? The two wrestled and they wrestled, until the sun went down, till they both needed a break to eat dinner, then they continued to wrestle and pin, and by the end of it they were too good of friends to declare the other the loser. If I cannot win my contest with you by sheer strength then, I will beat you in other contests to prove my worth, Massius boasted to Tibalt the strong man.

The two agreed and were on their own. The bet was to capture the largest animal they could by only wrestling it to the ground. Massius smiled at his luck to find such a wonderful friend. Then they departed ways and said to compare the next time they met. Shanky was displeased at the longevity of his master.