Ralph and the Pixie

‘Pran has told me that you are not skilled in the arts of weaponry,’ Birin said. ‘Is this true?’

Groaning inwardly, Ralph replied,’ I can make just about anything, as long as I have some sort of plan to work from. That doesn’t mean that I have to know how to use what I make.’

Birin’s expression appeared as though he found what Ralph had said repugnant, but that he was making an effort to conceal his reaction. ‘This is a cause for concern with me. There is a balance to made things that comes directly from use; a balance between art and craft, if you will. I would like you to begin training. Today.’

‘You really think it’s that necessary?’ Ralph asked him, not enthralled with the idea.

‘Let me put it to you in more personal terms,’ Birin told him. ‘If you or your friends were attacked, and there was no one to defend them but yourself, wouldn’t you want to know at the least that you could defend them?’

At the moment, this was the last thing Ralph wanted to talk about, touching very closely his sense of helpless frustration and failure when he had seen battle. Even had he been there when the Goblins or renegade Elf soldiers attacked, he doubted that his presence would have made much of a difference. But he heard something else in the soldier’s words.