The Zeltivan Monument Series Part 4: The Tools

[Minerva Agatha Zipporah]

54th Day of Summer, 512 AV Tock needed some new tools. Some might say she had enough tools. But to Tock, tools were like the way some girls viewed shoes: you could NEVER have enough! Specifically, she needed some stonecarving tools. She had a good set of chisels, and while they worked fine on stone for small-scale projects, the statue Tock was planning to carve was HUGE. Her woodcarving chisels weren't durable enough to keep up with carving that much granite. They could do the job, but they'd end up worn down horribly by the end. And since those chisels had belonged to her Granddad, she didn't want to ruin them. So she was going to make a thicker, stronger set, specifically designed to work stone. She also needed some heavy picks that could split stone, a heavy hammer to drive them with, and a sledge for taking off the biggest chunks of rock. And to make them extra special, she was going to make everything from scratch, right down to smelting the iron ore, then blacksmithing the tools part by part. Her blood and sweat would go into these tools. They'd be personal. Unique. Hers. Balanced for her grip, weighted for her hands. Exactly what she needed for a project she was taking so closely to her heart.

[Minerva Agatha Zipporah]

Tock showed up right around sunrise at the shop of the blacksmith she occasionally worked with. She gave him a welcoming nod and immediately started picking up his various hammers, testing their weight. She had to figure how how heavy of a head she wanted on each of the two she planned to make. Harold had more than a dozen hammers, some with different shaped heads, others with different weights. As she was giving each one a few test swings he said to her, "Morning Tock. What can I do for you?" He was always straight and to the point. It was what she liked about him. "Needs me some new tools," she told him. "Y'know, the usual. What fer figgers ya can always use a 'and, aye? 'Elps ya out wit'cher stuff fer a bit, 'en works on my own what when we's done?" It was a pretty simple arrangement. Free labor helping Harold with his projects, and in exchange she could get some time on the forge to work on her own tools. She'd still pay for the iron, and the value of a couple days' labor was certainly worth letting her use the facility a bit when they were done. Harold nodded in agreement, but said, "Customer's orders come first, of course. I've a big order for a ship captain. Some boat hooks, fish knives, iron rings for tying down sails, and he needs a few replacement brackets for the ship's rails," he held up a damaged piece that must have come from the ship. It was a basic L-shaped metal bar, used to reinforce and support perpendicular attachments like railing bars. There were several of them there, bent and mangled, the bolt holes that held them in place warped as if they'd been ripped away in a feat of sheer force. Likely something heavy had rammed into the ship's railing, perhaps a heavy crate sliding across the deck during a storm. The pieces could be melted down to salvage the metal, but the damage was too much for then to simply be repaired. "Have to have it all done before the ship sets sail," he said. "So that's top priority. But if you help me get all that done, you'll more than earn a turn at the anvil." Tock nodded, and turned to inspect the workshop with her hands on her hips and a determined set to her face. "Let's git 'er done," she said.

[Minerva Agatha Zipporah]

Harold handed her a shovel and said, "We'll smelt some ore first, and melt down this scrap. That needs the higher temperature. Then we'll ease her down to forging heat, and work on the order." Tock nodded and took the shovel, though she always hated this part. Maybe she should have brought Diggy down here with her... though the layout of Harold's shop didn't exactly leave room for the large, wheeled Automaton to get around. When Tock got her own shop, that would be something she'd be sure to account for. Tock rolled up her sleeves and tied the front flaps of her shirt together in a knot just under her breasts. It was already hot in here, and once the forge got REALLY going, she'd be soaked in sweat. She adjusted her leather gloves, which would protect her hands from blisters, and set to work. They shoveled together for awhile, falling into an alternating rhythm where one tossed in a load of coal, then the other did, back and forth at a steady pace. Before long Tock's back was already aching, and her hair was plastered to her face. The heat of the forge made the summer sun outside seem like a cool spring day, compared to the sweltering inferno they were feeding inside. When the blaze was hot enough, they started taking turns filling the smelting pots, one continuing to shovel while the other got a break to do the lighter work. Each pot was the size of a large bucket, made from hard forged steel that was thick enough to withstand the heat, at least to a degree. If they let the furnace get too hot, even the smelting pots would melt and be ruined. First the scraps from the ship were dropped in one, which was then lifted on a heavy pair of tongs and set in among the burning coals. The other pots were filled with raw ore, scooped from crates Harold kept in the back. Once one was filled and set, they switched places, the other one shoveling to keep the heat steady while the next pot was filled. Before long, the furnace was filled with as many pots as could be squeezed inside. They both paused to drink down some water to cool off from the intense heat, then took turns resting their aching arms while the other one shoveled (though Harold was rippling with muscles, and had far more endurance for this sort of thing than Tock had). It would take awhile for the metal to melt, and in the meanwhile the most important task was maintaining the right level of heat.

[Minerva Agatha Zipporah]

When the metal was finally ready, each smelting pot was removed one at a time. Since they had been filled especially high and were quite heavy, Harold and Tock worked together with a special set of tools. First they each gripped the pot with a long pair of tongs, standing a bit apart with the tongs at a forty-five degree angle from each other. With slow steps they backed away from the furnace to draw the pot from the heat, setting it down on the ground. Then while Harold was preparing the second tool, Tock used a tool like a slotted spoon to scoop the bits of slag and debris off the surface of the liquid metal. The heat seared against her bare arms, and she worked quickly so that it would be done before the metal cooled too much. Sparks flew as she banged each scoopful of slag into a waste bucket, the debris settling in the bottom as slowly cooling burning embers. When the debris was cleared and all that remained was molten metal, Harold attached the special pouring tool to the pot. It was a long pair of metal poles with indentations in the center that fit around the pot, hooking under the upper rim. With the poles in place, they could lift the pot from both sides in unison. Another pole was slid across the top to keep the tool held firmly in place. They lifted and carried the smelting pot together to the nearby shelves, which were filled with stone molds in the shape of simple bars. With them each holding one end of the metal poles that held the pot, Harold used his free hand to use another tool with a metal hook on the end. He hooked it to the ridge on the bottom of the smelting pot, and use it to lift and tilt the pot for a smooth pour. Liquid iron poured from the spout of the pot and into the shallow grooves of the stone molds. When the glowing metal filled the groove to the top, they lowered the pot, shifted to the next section of the mold, and poured again, continuing down the line until they ran out of metal. They set the empty pot aside, and continued to the next, and the next, flames dancing across blackened stone as they filled each bar. Sparks from scooping out slag singed Tock's skin, and she ached for a break, but they couldn't stop yet lest the metal cool too much before the molds were set. By the time they moved fully down the line and finished off the last smelting pot, the first bars were already returning to their normal color, though they would still be painfully hot to the touch. Stretching and cracking her back, Tock looked over the bars, alternating from glowing red hot, to fading orange, to the dark natural color of iron. Some of these bars would soon become her new tools.

[Minerva Agatha Zipporah]

The items they were making today each used a variety of different techniques. While the new iron bars were cooling, they took some others off Harold's supply shelf and stuck them in the blazing heat. They let the furnace slowly lower in temperature, holding off on feeding any more coal until it was down to a more appropriate heat for forging. They didn't want this iron to become molten; it merely had to heat enough to become malleable. Once it achieved the nice, golden glow, they pulled out the first piece and started work on the metal brackets. They began by drawing out the metal. The glowing rod was placed on the flat surface of the anvil, and they alternated striking with the pointed end of their hammers along the length of it. As the strikes continued, they drove indentations into the iron, working their way down the length. As they made their way across it, the golden iron became ridged like a comb, the taller points standing like glowing teeth across the length of the metal. They then flipped the hammers over, using the flat sides to pound those teeth down flat, alternating strikes between the two of them, one after another. They continued this process until the entire length of the metal was flattened down to about the depth of a coin. The rod was now a long, flat metal strip. They returned it to the flames to reheat it for the next stage, then pulled out another rod to repeat the process. Once both rods were flattened to the same depth, they returned the second to the flames and began the process of shaping and cutting the first. Each iron pole was two feet long, but the brackets they needed were only six inches a piece. They measured each length, then cut the hot metal with a thick iron chisel, placed against the strip and then pounded with a sledge until they cut all the way through. Each strip was cut down into four segments, all of which were stuck back in the heat so they would remain at a workable temperature until it was time to finish each one. One at a time, each piece was then placed along the top of the anvil and held so that half its length was jutting past the anvil's edge. Tock then struck it repeatedly with heavy swings of a large, two-handed hammer, bending it down over the anvil's side. Once the metal was bent she swung horizontally into the side of the anvil to use the squared off edge to ensure the bracket would be a perfect ninety degrees. Once each piece was bent to the correct shape, it was placed atop the anvil over the small holes on the back end. They then used a round punching tool like a long iron spike to drive holes through the brackets. With the puncher in place, Tock pounded the handle until the spike forced its way through the iron, creating a small hole that would be used for a nail or screw to hold the bracket against the wood. They punched out two holes on each side of each bracket, and by the end Tock's arms were aching and tired from all the repeated hammering. The pieces were set aside to cool, and Tock and Harold took a break to rest and eat. Later, once the metal was cooled enough, they filed down the rough edges to smooth out any sharp spots left around the edges they'd cut, and around the holes they'd punched through. After filing they were cleaned off thoroughly by scrubbing with a wire brush. They were then set aside, ready to be delivered to the ship captain.

[Minerva Agatha Zipporah]

After lunch, Tock started shoveling more coal, re-heating the furnace to start on the next pieces. But before the work continued, someone came in and pulled Harold off to the side for a moment. They spoke briefly, but Tock didn't try to overhear what they were talking about. It wasn't her business. After the stranger left, Harold stepped over to her and said, "I'm sorry, but I'm gonna have to close up for an hour or two. My wife sent for me... Our boy's ill, up at the infirmary. She needs me to take care of a few things..." Tock's heart clenched. A little boy she cared deeply for was up at the infirmary, too. She nodded to Harold and said, "Go 'ead. I's take care o' things 'ere." He hesitated for a moment, obviously not used to leaving his shop in another's hands. "Go on, git!" she told him. "Ya need 'is stuff done by tomorrow, aye? So I's keep at 'er, and ya does what ya needs ta does." If his boy needed him, she wanted him to be able to go. He gave her a grateful smile and clapped her on the shoulder. "Thanks," he said. "Just work on..." he trailed off, not sure which parts she could do solo. "I git the rings done," she said, taking out several of the new and now cooled iron rods. "Done 'ose 'fore, plenty! Now git!" She stuck the rods in to heat, and shooed the man away. There was no reason she couldn't handle this part of the work by herself. He thanked her again, then hurried off. Tock, meanwhile, returned to shoveling. The rings could likely be finished before he got back.

[Minerva Agatha Zipporah]

While he was gone she could have robbed him. She could have decided to say screw the rings, and started work on her tools. She could have goofed off or taken a break. But she didn't. Tock didn't have quite the same morals as some people, but what she did have was a strong work ethic. She believed in doing a job, doing it right, and finishing in a timely and efficient manner. So despite the 'boss' being gone, she just kept working. Once the metal was heated enough, she pulled one of the rods out and started working on it. Bending iron into a curve was a pretty basic task. She braced it against the anvil's curved horn, and started pounding the iron with the hammer to adjust the shape. She shifted the iron against the horn every few strokes to work out the curve, sparks flying as she pounded the glowing metal again and again. While she was working, someone entered the shop and tried to interrupt her. She ignored them; whatever it was couldn't be that important, and if she ignored them, they might go away and leave her alone so she could work. "I said, 'excuse me,' Miss?" No such luck. "Go away," she said, not taking her eyes off the slowly curving rod she was working on. "I's busy." "I'm looking for Master Harold," the person said. They had that tone she hated so much. The one that said I'm-important-so-you'd-better-pay-attention-to-me. She continued to ignore them, until finally the person stepped in close enough that she nearly struck them with her hammer. "Miss, this is important," he said. She glanced over him and saw it was a middle aged man. His garb suggested he was a sailor of some sort, and the ugly hat he had on was one of the styles favored by ship captains. "'E ain't 'ere," she growled in irritation, casting the man am angry glare. She returned to her work, swinging the hammer a bit wildly so the man would get the idea and back away. "Go away. Come back later." She had the ring just about where it needed to be. A few more strikes, and she completed the circle. Then she shifted it onto the anvil's flat top, laying it sideways so she could make sure it was straight and even. She gave it a few more pounds at select spots to make sure there were no misshapen parts. "Listen to me!" the man practically shouted. "I am a very important customer! And I will not be dismissed like this. Tock kept pounding the metal. The backside of the hammer had a nice point. She could crack his skull with it. She wondered how well a human body would heat the furnace... "I placed an order with him," the man continued. "For my ship. Some knives, hooks, and--" "Rings?" Tock asked, holding up the glowing metal very close to the man's face. He took a step back, licking his lips. "'Ese yers?" she asked, lifting it with the tongs as she inspected the shape. The captain nodded, clearing his throat. "Yes. And some brackets. It's an important order and--" "An' the more time ya spend yappin', the longer she's gunna take, Guv," Tock said, setting the ring aside to cool. She shoveled some more coal in to the furnace, figuring that it would take a controlled experiment to tell which burned hotter, coal or human flesh. This guy had an extra-long stick up his arse, thinking his simple order of tools and brackets made him an 'important customer.' Maybe the extra stick up his arse would make him burn hotter. "I need to make sure the order is ready by tomorrow," he continued. "I can't set sail without making repairs, I can't make repairs without these parts, and I can't be late or my client in Nyka might cancel his shipment..." That. Was. ...it? Tock's eyes slowly turned up to the man as she set the new rod against the anvil. He had come down here, bitching and moaning at her and interrupting her work, just to 'check up on her,' and make sure the order would be done on time. She looked at the iron rod held in her tongs. She considered it for a moment. Then she asked, "Didja pay 'Arold yet?" The man gave her a confused frown, then shook his head. "No," he replied. "He said payment on delivery." Bah. "Come back tomorrow," she said, turning back to her work. "'Ey's been done fer ya. Plenty o' time ta spare..."

[Minerva Agatha Zipporah]

She finished the rest of the iron rings, and Harold still wasn't back yet. Which left her a bit uncertain what to do next. She'd never forged knives or boat hooks before. The design on the boat hooks was more basic, however. She was more confident in her ability to start those on her own. She started with a long iron bar, hot and fresh from the coals. The shape she needed was a bit complex, at least compared to a simple ring. She needed to split the iron at one end, forming both a straight pieced that would attach to a wooden pole, and a hook halfway along it with a slight curve. She also needed to make a hole the pole would be inserted into, which was something she hadn't done before. She'd have Harold check her later, when he got back, but for now she had a decent idea of where to start. First the metal needed to be a bit thicker. She accomplished this by setting the iron bar on its end, holding it vertically with the tongs. She then began pounding on the tip, gradually shortening the metal while pushing it wider the shorter it got. It took awhile to get it the way she wanted it, requiring her to feed it back into the fire more than once to keep the metal hot and workable. Eventually, though, the end of the bar was thickened to the size she needed. The lower half of the bar she left cold and solid, to have a good place to hold it with the tongs. When she was done, she'd cut the cold end off from the finished piece. From the thickest part of the end, she needed to split off a piece for the hook. So she set the bar on the anvil, and used a thick, wide bladed chisel, setting it along the metal longways, then pounding onto it with the hammer. She continued until she cut all the way through, so that the end of the bar was split like a two pronged fork. She set the split onto the corner of the anvil, and pounded the iron bar from the cold end, driving it down onto the split to separate the two pieces. Once one of them started to bend down, she flipped the bar around and set the split piece against the curved horn. She pounded the metal against the horn until the hook was sufficiently curved, then straightened out the end point from the other half of the split. By the end, she had the entire shape of the boat hook, but still needed to be able to attach it to a handle. She reheated the metal, then used another chisel to cut off the cold end of the pole. She then braced the piece, facing downwards, in a thick steel clamp. Then she set a punching tool into the end, and began pounding on the end to drive it into the metal. It was similar to the way she'd punched holes through the brackets earlier, except instead of cutting a hole all the way through, she was just making a depression. As the depression deepened, the metal around it widened, and she had to periodically pause to hammer the width of the iron in order to keep it from warping or splitting. Once the punching tool was driven deep enough, she switched to a wider one, driving it down into the same hole. This widened the depression further, and once it was complete she used a third, which was the same width as the pole the boat hook would be affixed to. When it was finally complete, she punched a set of screw holes through the metal where the handle would attach, and was setting it aside when Harold finally returned. "'Ow's the little biter?" she asked him, concerned for his kid. "He's doing well," Harold said. She could see some weight upon his features, but she also saw hope in his eyes. That was good... she wished she could have some of that for herself and her own little tyke. "How's the work coming?" he asked. She showed him what she had done, and got his help making some corrections to the shape of the hook. By the time it was time to quit and go home for dinner, they had completed the remaining hooks and set them with the rest of the order. First thing tomorrow morning, they'd work on the knives. Then, barring any further complications, Tock would be able to work on her own tools.

[Minerva Agatha Zipporah]

Tock was there first thing in the morning, shoveling coal to get the furnace back up to it's full heat once more. She'd already picked out the iron she wanted from the available rods; all of it was the same quality, but she had still wanted to hand-pick everything. She had checked the feel of the metal, the weight of it in her hands, and made sure what she had chosen felt right for her new tools. Those pieces were set to the side, waiting their turn. They just had to forge a few knives for the ship captain first. Harold showed her some sketches of the particular design they were working on. The knife had a slight curve to it, presumably for better gutting. "Ever forge a blade before?" he asked her. "Nah," she said, shaking her head. Blades didn't much interest her, unless it was the blade of a saw or chisel. But a good knife could still be a useful tool, so she wanted to learn. "Let's git 'er done," she said, glad that her offer of labor was also turning into a learning experience. To achieve the desired design, first they drew a hot piece of iron from the forge and began flattening it against the anvil, repeated strikes across the length spreading the metal out wide and thin. Once this step was complete they had a long strip of metal to work with. They then reheated the end of the metal, leaving the back end of the strip cool. The glowing hot metal was then placed with the edge down on the horn of the anvil, and struck with a series of steady blows as the strip was gradually pulled back. The smooth motion pulling the metal along the horn allowed each strike to hit a different part of the strip, shaping the metal slowly in order to give the blade a shallow curve. They regularly placed the metal flat-ways back on the anvil, hammering the strip from the side to make sure it remained smooth and straight. Working the curve from the thin edge could warp the length of the iron a bit, and so they alternated in between hammering on the thin edge to create the curve, and returning the flat side to the anvil body to straighten out any deformities. The back end of the knife needed an indentation for the choil, which was a depression where the blade meets the handle. It served as a finger guard, preventing someone's grip from slipping from the handle up onto the blade. To create this effect, the tang of the handle needed to be shrunk with half-face hammering. Harold guided Tock through the unfamiliar process, where they kept only the back most end of the steel on the anvil, letting the rest extend off the side. Thus when they pounded on the thin edge of the iron, the part that formed the handle was shrunk, while the blade itself remained the same width. Once this was done, the handle was shorter on the width, but slightly thicker on the depth. The backside of the handle was still flush with what would be the flat edge of the blade, but the underside of the handle was a good half inch shorter than the blade, creating a good place to safely grip it. As the blade continued to take shape, they began the process of bringing the curve of the blade to a point. They alternated between hammering the backside of the blade against the horn, then flipping it over to set the edge against the flat part of the anvil. This part required a steady hand, raising the handle of the knife upwards steadily while the hammer was tapped against the iron. The blade started horizontal against the anvil, but while raising the handle and pounding the metal, they raised the knife up to a vertical alignment with the tip facing down to the anvil. This had to be done very smoothly, giving the blade just the right curve, without striking too hard and deforming it, nor creating any snags in the curve itself. Then came the bevel. The edge of the knife that would be sharpened needed to be narrowed and brought to a point. They used the pointed end of the hammer for more precision, tapping it only against the lower part of the blade where the sharp edge would be. This kept the flat edge of the blade thicker, while narrowing and thinning the sharp side. When the blade was finally complete, it was on to the more familiar process of punching, using a thin spike to punch two holes into the tang. When a handle was cut and affixed to the tang, pins could be fed through those holes to secure it in place. Finally the metal was scrubbed down with a wire brush, then sharpened against a grindstone until the edge was fine enough to slice through flesh. Then it was polished, the handle affixed, and it was ready to go. After being guided step by step through the process by Harold, Tock worked on a second one alone while Harold did the third. The process was easier the second time around, once she had the techniques worked out. After a couple hours of work, all the knives for the order were ready, and well ahead of schedule, thanks to Tock's help. "I's gonna git started on mine now," Tock said as Harold was packing up the various creations. He had to deliver them to the ship captain and collect his pay, which meant the forge would be otherwise empty until he got back. It was the perfect time for her to begin her own work. He gave her a nod and clapped her on the shoulder. "I won't be long," he said. "I can show you a few more things then." She nodded in thanks, certain his help would be needed. Some of the tools she needed, she was sure she could do on her own. There were a few things she wasn't sure about, however, and it would help to have an experienced teacher showing her the ropes.

[Minerva Agatha Zipporah]

The hammers had the most basic design out of everything she was working on, so Tock decided to make those first. Each one would be similar in design, the main difference being the size and weight. To save time, she decided to work on both at once. That way, when one had cooled a bit during the forging process, she could return it to the heat and work on the other. That would be much more efficient. She started off with two of the rods she's smelted the day before. She set them in the flames, and spent some time shoveling coal to bring the fire back up to the right temperature for forging. Then, once each piece of iron had just the right glow, she set to work. She began by upsetting the metal, setting each piece one at s time on the anvil, with the point of the iron rod downwards, holding the piece vertically. She pounded steadily on the back, cold end, like driving a nail. Slowly but steadily, the metal became shorter and thicker, widening into a thick cylinder. She periodically turned the cylinder on its side to pound it from various angles, keeping it straight and hammering out any misshapen spots that might arise from the process. She regularly switched between one piece and the other, continuing until the iron was the right thickness. For now, part of the original rod's length still hung off the back, only a narrow bit for the heavier hammer, since most of the metal for that one had been pounded into the head. The lighter hammer still had a longer strip hanging off, since she didn't need as much material in the head for that one. She left both strips on for now, to have a good place to hold the metal with the tongs. Next she began shaping the hammers, laying them flat against the anvil and pounding them into shape, rotating them to different sides to create flat surfaces from multiple angles. She continued until the length of the hammer was in an octagonal shape, then set the end of the hammer against the anvil at an angle to pound one side into a point. She rotated it around to evenly shape each side of the octagonal cylinder, until it had a thick pointed end. Then she used a chisel to cut the remaining excess length of the original rod off each hammer. Finally she punched a hole in the center of each hammerhead, using a punching tool and gradually pounding through the center until she had a wide enough hole to insert a handle into. By the time she finished both hammers, Harold returned. She asked him to check over her work, and offer some small corrections. Once the hammerheads were completed, she set them aside, and later when all the tools were complete, she would work on filing down any rough spots, cleaning them with wire brushes, and finishing the job.