Heir To The Elements 1: Rise of the Heirs

Hammer of Adranus

 Vulcan looked up from his hammer work in the foundry. A small clock hung from th wall of his shack in the middle of a scrapyard. His accomplice Conduct stood leaning against a pile of various scrap.

“This stuff is terrible quality Conduct! You said that I could have some proper metal to forge my armour with!”

“Make do Vulcan!” Conduct snorted “I do just fine without!”

“Bullets do not harm you at all! I do not have that luxury!”

“You're just weak Vulcan,” scoffed, his arrogant mood filled Vulcan with anger, but the Heir of fire kept his cool.

“No I’m realistic,” Vulcan’s hammer collided with the makeshift anvil as he spun around to face the wiry figure of Conduct “You only think you are strong while surrounded by all this solid metal! What happens if you were alone in a field and some very angry people were chasing you down!” Vulcan roared towering over the much smaller Conduct, his anger suddenly filling him like the heat of the forge.

“Your people lost in the end Vulcan, remember that!” Conduct snapped back harshly.

“Only because all the Malus united together when we were at our weakest, and from what I was taught your people were taken down first after that! The great Metalmoulders could not hold back a simple Malus raid!” Vulcan spat, he had been working all day and Conducts attitude was not helping.

“We have the job coming up in two hours Vulcan!” Conduct reminded him.

“Get your armour ready or go without it! I am not waiting until another chance like this comes up!”

“Fine” Vulcan grunted picking up his hammer and turning around, instantly his forge lit up seemingly without any mechanical aid.

Vulcan finished molding the metal in a slow and arduous manner, the longer he spent the better it usually was. “No warrior deserves this makeshift steel for protection,” He grunted while working as hard as he could to compact more weak metal into the arm guards he was making “Stupid good quality metal only lasted for the leg guards and boots!”

As he finished up his work Vulcan threw the poorly made arm guards into a deep water bucket. He proceded to put on his heavily modified armour which looked like it had come out of some sort of science fiction movie. It only guarded his lower body, above that he wore a khaki tank top with dog tags hanging from his muscled neck.

He retrieved the arm guards and almost slapped them on, his anger working its way into his actions. Once they were attached he put on his disguise, a grey tracksuit with a red hoodie to cover the armour. He looked much bigger than he actually was, but he did not look at all suspicious, he and Conduct had been planning this job for some time. And by the end of the day they would be rich.

Vulcan looked over his disguise in a broken mirror he kept inside the shack. An evil grin appeared on his face which was contorted heavily into a fiendish smile by the cracked glass.

“It’s showtime!” Vulcan roared leaving his lowly dwelling to meet with Conduct outside the Sar city Bank.