Steel….
Before the kingdoms of the earth were defined by finite borders, and her peoples divided by race and caste, there was but one measure of a man: steel. Steel which had come forged of fire and ice, a gift of the Norse gods through Weiland and Amilias, an offering of primordial trust.
It became a holy calling to learn the skills of der schmeid, the smith, who had the secret knowledge to make precious charcoal. A man’s eyes could learn when to strike according to the colors of the iron, but he also needed the will and endurance of a mighty warrior to hammer and sweat for many hours at the forge. The ultimate results of his labor were beautiful, well balanced, razor edged swords, with brightly polished blades and bejeweled hilts; highly prized works of art, often named reverently by the great kings and blade-masters who paid dearly for them.
Yet within that beauty, lay a dark weapon of destruction, a weapon that brought out the basest instincts of mankind, a weapon of war designed for close combat. The kind where adversaries stood ankle deep in the blood of their comrades and looked each other in the eye; where there was no quarter expected and none given. Victory went to the last man standing. Trust, if it existed, was ultimately in the steel.
No warrior was a true master of it, yet no true warrior was subject unto it. For those who lived by the implements of war, it was honor, justice and truth combined. Power was its reward and blood was its sacrifice. Entrails spilled and heads rolled as empires were carved out of human landscape with nothing but strength and steel.
The names of victors were remembered and recorded for all time in Norse sagas, Celtic tales and various chronicles of their day. Such names as Beowulf, Arthur, and many others are almost household names among us, well known to anyone who studies literature or history, their names made infamous by the advent of steel.