Flashback Tomahawk : Chain of Death

[Senghor Vilhjalmr]

23th of Spring 497AV As noon brought its upheaval upon the majesty lady that was the seductive Sunberth, the dark virgins city that cradled its children 'neath its looming suffocating bosom, her flesh torn and tattered with the anarchic palms an groped and dug into her mounds to suckle greedily at their mothers gift of life, or in some cases ever too often Death. For some, Sunberth was nothing more than the visage of freedom but to others, it was the pit of disease, whores, killers, rapists, and those were but the simplistic neighbours one would have, the darker, more vile entities of that virtuous city would tear at the mental fabrication of the mortal mind with the upheaval for worse than death, if they got to you than death was a gift, it was a miracle... An this was what made an aged man think, as he ingested smoke into his lungs and letting it flare violently from his nostrils, smoking to Cagn wasn't new yet in his younger years it wasn't something he'd waste his time with, though at that moment his thoughts were not drawn to him but the item in his hand and his son, Senghor. 'This hand axe, it's questionable for Senghor... Yet I do believe he could use it and with his flexibility, agility and unknowing nature of chaining his attacks, he could master it' Cagn thought, he was was slowly surprised how light yet primitive the 20'' by 8.5'' tomahawk in his hand was, from the current state he could see that it had been used, the whiteness of the stone was grey, chips and cracks had around assaulted it, its wooden body was worsening after every use from the looks of it, and from the look of it, Cagn could see that the owner of this weapon did indeed enjoy using it. He kept dwelling on what sadistic uses the stone of tomahawk could have been used for from how it was assembled, he saw that the larger portion of the stone was chiseled intricately and was flat, like a sword he saw were the tore and cut, he knew that this part of the blade could hack brutally at the body and due to the dulled frame, a person would have to repeatedly hack away at the body before death, a bludgeon instead of a blade. Yet as he held the short weapon in his hand, he saw that at the middle of the blade it was inserted into the wood, bound tightly but leather straps, bound so tightly that it didn't even wobble or move, it remained steely within its sheath, the flat stone of the tomahawk was made to be double edged though the design of the hand axe was so that as soon at the middle was made, the opposite of the cutting and hacking was carved to a tip, the top of frame curved (formerly) seductively and met the similar curve of the bottom at a instantaneous piercing tip. As the older man remembered an opponent with a similar weapon, he remembered that this portion of the tomahawk was for piercing and stabbing, it brought forth a more deadly and quick approach but when used properly, a bloodier and more gruesome death... He muttered something below his breath and before he could think once more, a familiar and most needed voice beamed within his ears, "Father, I'm here now... All my chores and my errands are completed" Senghor spoke with an assertive tone, as he looked up at his father who was turning around, upon entering the room Seng could already see that his father had already set up the entire drill without him, yet what caught his eye was that it wasn't what he was used too, this was different, peculiar. Three large bags, sized with a average humans stature were filled with all manner of fabric and material where placed in a triangular stack, each other individually looming over the center, the bottom of the large bags were filled with sand to make them stand straightened, the filling of the bag was packed densely tight so it wouldn't slump or fall over. Yet another thing that truly caught his eyes was the hand axe held by the silhouette of his father. "Senghor, my son. I've something for you" his father said obviously as Senghor decided to just play along "What is it father?" asked the young Vilhjalmr as he watched his father turned to hand the hand axe to him, as the wood fell into his hand of the boy, he was surprised at how sloppy and primitive the axe was, stone and wood bound only in leather, his brow raised in inquisition whilst his father spoke. "Seng that is a tomahawk, it's effective, it's precise, silent, fast, deadly and an can be used as a projectile yet for you, hand to hand combat with be a work of art with this" Cagn said to the boy as he watched him firmly grasp the length of the tomahawk, as a boy the length of the hawk was at least the size of half his entire forearm, in his later years the tomahawk wouldn't be so, he'd have already surpassed the length. As he spun his wrist for a moment in his right hand, he was surprised to see how fluid and effortlessly he could sway and move his arm, it was as if the tomahawk wasn't even there, it sung in the air whilst he handled it, as with most weapons he held in his hands Senghor felt as if though it was truly a weapon worth wielding, yet this was truly one worth the wielding, it was so durable and silent, and as he continuously looked it over he thought the same thing his father thought as he looked it over each of the components that made up the stone tomahawk. He was playfully lost in its beauty and design, enthralled by it for a few minutes before his father spoke...