The morning was quiet and still, punctuated only by the
rhythmic patter of rain the morning the Master Smith known as Nachtengel was
brought into the world. She was born to Lord Friedrich and Lady Greta Gottschalk
of Lighthalzen in the Republic of Schwarzwalt with the given the name Lady Helma
Gottschalk. Lord and Lady Gottschalk were of a long line nobles dating back to
the founding of Midgard and the establishment of the modern Schwarzwalt
Republic. They were deep in old money and tradition, and had many high hopes for
the life their daughter would lead and the repute she would bring their name.
Lady Helma was given the finest education by the most sought after tutors in
Lighthalzen, renowned scholars known for their work in Juno and brought to the
republic to work on the Ymir project. She was a bright girl and took her
education seriously, soaking in everything and all the scholars could tell her.
A seed of unrest was slowly being planted in her chest, however, for along with
tales of history and lessons in magic and lore came stories from other lands and
more and more Lady Helma wished to see these places for herself. She dreamed of
the great ancient forests of Payon and the vast scorching deserts of Morroc, the
bustling city of Prontera and the mage capital of Geffen. A life of riches and
boring social events in Lighthalzen just couldn't seem to compare.
Her parents were not pleased by talk of travel from the young Lady Helma. The
world was too large and too dangerous a place, they would tell her, nothing but
rogues and thieves in the reaches of Midgard that were not domesticated by the
Republic. She was forbidden to travel, forbidden to even think of it, and the
tutors that had encouraged her such were replaced by others. The spark of
adolescence had not yet lit in Lady Helma at that time and the idea of rebellion
was beyond her reach. That changed, however, the day she met Helga Hammerfist.
That day started out like any other, save Lady Helma was given leave to attend a
lecture on ice magic at the Lighthalzen library with a handful of Lord
Gottschalk's personal guards in tow. Lady Helma was swiftly becoming a heart
breaking young woman with a strong but beautiful face, hair of deep red that
sunk past her shoulders and whispers of womanly curves that could be caught
through the dresses she was given to wear by her parents. Not only was she
growing up in appearance but in thought as well, realizing her own goals and
dreams and how they conflicted with those of her parents. She was starting to
fight with small acts of rebellion; staying up late here, not eating her
vegetables there. But that day would prove her greatest insolence to date, for
she had no intention of attending her lecture.
"I want to try on a dress I saw the other day." Lady Helma announced
as she and her guards passed a shop on the streets of Lighthalzen on the way to
the library. The guards looked uncertainly amongst themselves before one nodded
in ascent, for who were they to argue with the daughter of Lord Gottschalk? She
slipped into the shop alone and spent a while pretending to examine the garments
around her, watching from the corner of her eye until the guards outside were
thoroughly distracted. Sensing her chance, Lady Helma flashed the shop keeper a
disarming smile and dashed for the back of the store, dropping into the alleyway
behind and running off alone for the first time in her life.
Her heart fluttered like a caged butterfly in her chest and breath was ragged in
her throat as she ran, keeping the skirt of her dress gripped firmly so she
wouldn't trip. Lady Helma was so elated at her ingenious escape and caught up in
running that she didn't give much thought to where she was going, made evident
as she stumbled hard into something and fell straight back on her bottom. It
took a while for Lady Helma to catch her breath and for her vision to clear
before she saw a form standing over her, one hand extended and a concerned frown
on their face.
"Hey sweet thing, you should watch where you're going." The voice was
gently rich and feminine and Lady Helma found herself staring forward at a pair
of well muscled but lithe legs left bare to mid thigh were they were finally
covered in a pair of tight denim cut-offs. The young woman's gaze kept traveling
up and up, past the strangers bared middle and to a knotted white
shirt barely holding in what clearly proclaimed her as a female. Finally she
found the strangers face, a smile quirking at the corner of her lips, framed by
strands of pale gold hair set in contrast against her bronzed skin. "You
gonna sit on the ground all day?" The stranger teased and waved her offered
hand again, before Lady Helma finally reached out and grasped it.
The hand about hers was the strongest Lady Helma had ever felt, calloused and
worn but not to an unpleasant degree, she found herself lifted to her feet
before the blush of shame and some other sort crept into her cheeks. "Thank
you.." The young woman managed to speak at last and the stranger came to
stand beside her, reaching down to give a firm pat of her rear.
"So you can talk!" The stranger laughed and bent to pick up a pack
Lady Helma hadn't noticed had fallen from her shoulder. Peeking out from the
leather flaps were several hammers and other tools. "I'm Helga, why don't
we get a drink, and you can tell me why you were in such a hurry."
Strangely though Lady Helma had never been advanced upon in such a way, she felt
a crooked and wide smile drawing across her face that she could not deny.
Perhaps this would be the start of the adventure she was hoping for. "I'm
Lady-- I'm Helma, and I'd like that very much."
*
Lady Helma did not return home that evening, much to the frenzy of her parents
and the guards that were blamed responsible for her disappearance. Lighthalzen
was completely locked down in search for the missing noble but she was far gone
from her walls, reaching the edge of the Schwarzwalt Republic as the sun dawned
upon a new day.
Helma traveled with Helga to Geffen, learning much about the Blacksmith and
where she had come from in that time. Helga had been visiting Lighthalzen upon
rumors of finding some rare ores but returned with something much more valuable
instead. Helma took quick and passionately to the idea of smithing, backed by
her wit and extensive knowledge of the elements and magic she was accepted by
the Blacksmith Guild of Geffen under Helga's tutelage. She quickly moved through
their ranks with tireless hours upon end of training and forging, honing her
skills and herself.
"You may have what it takes to be a Master Smith." Helga had told her
one day as they both worked in the searing flames of their forge, hair tied back
and sweat sheeting their faces. No woman had ever achieved such a thing in their
time and Helma wondered why Helga had not done so herself. "I've got enough
work to do." The blonde smith would reply offhand but her encouragement for
Helma never wavered. She could do it, she could be the first Master Smith in the
kingdom of Midgard.
*
Many years passed from that time and much had changed in Helma's life. She had
pursued the dream of Master Smith with Helga's encouragement and to the surprise
of all others in the Blacksmith guild, achieved her goal. Her weapons became
known throughout the kingdom of Midgard and she worked on tireless commissions to
outfit the King's own Royal Guard. But even with such a passion for her craft,
Helma could not let it consume her life forever. She still wanted to travel and
see the rest of Midgard, and she did so with Helga at her side.
Eventually Helga and Helma settled down in the bustling city of Prontera, Helma
now known only by the name of Nachtengel. They opened a small bar together
called the Pink Clam, that became swiftly popular for its fine nachos and potent
home brewed ale. Helga managed finances while Nachtengel managed the front
house, kicking out rowdies and serving up broken hearts with her tanned, muscled
legs that went all the way to her ears.
That day Nachtengel was in the middle of tossing a high-strung monk out of the
bar named Ethan who kept going on about wanting to fight people with his pokemon,
whatever that was. She dusted her hands as she watched the monk fall in a heap
outside the door and could hear his muffled voice challenging others as it
closed between them. Before she could turn she felt a small kiss upon the back
of her neck, turning to see Helga standing there with a subtle smile on her
lips.
"I've been thinking of traveling to Comodo, we could lie on the beach..
watch the dancers.." Nachtengel turned and draped her arms around Helga's
waist with her head tilted as though in serious contemplation of the proposal.
"How about we lie on the beach, and I just watch you?" Nachtengel
replied with a grin just before a loud crash to the side startled her.
The window beside them was broken and on the floor was the culprit, an apple
still rocking with momentum, half of it painted white. "PIKACHU I CHOOSE
YOU!" Came a cry from outside the bar and Nachtengel cracked her knuckles.
"I'm going to kill him."
And they all lived happily ever after.