Flashback [Izurdin's Forge]Crafting for Father [Closed:: Artifex]

[Ly'an Godhammer]

35th of Summer 490AV Ly'an was busy getting the forge she was in front of started, the last Isurian that was in forgot to keep the thing lit and well fed. Forgive their insolence Father. I shall make it my duty to keep your forges lit. She busied herself with the coal shoveling and billowing that was required, soon the forge was roaring lively and all was well. She breathed a sigh of relief as she reached behind her with splayed out fingers trying to locate her smithing equipment. Not finding it with wandering fingertips Ly'an turned around. Sitting on the bench just inches from her fingertips were the gloves and leather coif she was reaching for. “Just a few more inches.” She grumbled and grabbed the coif and crammed it on her bald head and picked up her gloves. With a frown Ly'an glanced back at the forge and then crammed the gloves onto both her hands and picked up a three foot piece of steel that was laying around. With a sigh she placed it into the forge and let it heat up. Placing her hammer on the anvil and moving a barrel of freezing cold salt water to the other side of her anvil Ly'an looked up to check the coloration of her steel, the edges were starting to get a lovely red, but it wasn't ready yet. With a nod the Isurian blacksmith turned her attention to the ladle that hung on the outside of the barrel and filled it with water and splashed it on both her anvil and hammer head. The wetting of both the anvil and the hammer was to keep them from heating up and welding the red-hot steel to both items when it came out Looking back at the metal in the forge she could see the red creeping into the cold heart of the inner core and she smiled, “Not much longer Father and my work will begin.” Ly'an fell silent as she waited. Every so often she would give the forge a quick rush of air to keep the coals nice and hot, burning evenly. Soon enough the steel was red hot and ready to be worked and forged into something. Ly'an grabbed the end nearest her with a set of tongs and laid it on the flat plane of her anvil and started a methodical motion of bringing the hammer down against the steel and pushing it outward away from her, slowly stretching the hot steel with every strike. Ly'an made sure she didn't strike the same location in the steel in consecutive motions, instead she spaced her striking points out, and then filling in the gaps with the same strike-and-push technique. After several minutes of pounding away at the metal, it was starting to turn a purple color and Ly'an immediately placed it back into the forge, allowing it to heat back up. Seeing as the core was still hot, any time she placed it back into the forge to reheat it the heating time wouldn't take nearly as long as the initial heating up of the whole metal at start. Sweat was glistening on her forehead and the blacksmith took the small break from hefting the hammer and going through the motions of smithing to wet her glove and wipe the dampness on her head, wiping away the sweat before dipping her hammer's head into the barrel to cool it and pull the steel out once more to start the process a new, her goal it would appear at this stage, was to stretch three-fourths of the steel's length to double it's width and at least down to a quarter of it's thickness. A task that is going to take some time.

[Artifex]

Artifex took short, solid strides through Izurdin’s Forge. He was on his way to begin some work that had been long overdue. It was nothing legendary, but it had its sentimental value. He grabbed the amulet that dangled from his prayer beads and prayed as he walked. Oh Father, I pray thee find the product of my labor to be worthy of your praise, and if it is so that I have done well in your eyes. Yet if I fail you, I shall hold fast and stand patient so that I may work upon more worthy endeavors. Step by step he marveled at the inner workings of his people. They were truly marvelous folk, and he could not imagine himself among greater people. They were friends, family, and acquaintances all; even if he’d never met them. They were all bound by their faith in Izurdin, and Artifex hoped to someday stand among the great legends of the Isur. He knew that it would be through his skill of craft, and strength of faith that would allow him to do right by his people. Someday he would aid in their restoration to their former glory of the days before the Valterrian. Finally he arrived before an unoccupied forge that was just one of many that formed a circle around the central dais. He looked up, and sure enough there was the mighty anvil with the symbol of Izurdin upon it. Father watch over me, and those of my kin as we ever endeavor in your name. Watch over us as we forge the future, through faith and metal. He turned to attend to the forge that had some time ago dwindled away. The fire had faded, and clearly the last occupant had been in some sort of foolish rush because they didn’t bother to stoke it before they left. Slowly after a few good minutes of shoveling coal, and manning the bellows the forge breathed with new life. He wiped the sweat of his forehead, and made sure not to wipe it through his hair so it stayed stiff. As he turned to grab his smithing equipment he noticed something beyond the bench whereupon they sat. He saw a familiar figure hammering away at a piece of metal. She was a stout lass, and held much more beauty than the average Isur female. He knew her of course for they had grown up in the same clan; although different families. He waited till she took a break from the hammering to wipe her brow, and before he took a few steps away from his forge he made sure it was well stocked so that it wouldn't die out. After a few steps he arrived a few paces from the lass whose name was: “Ly’an!” “Ly’an may Izurdin bless our meeting..” and taking a glance at her work and then back at his own “how are you lass? What work brings you here this day?” Artifex put on a charismatic air-or at least as good a one as he was known for-and smiled. He was after all perhaps the jolliest Isur he had ever met, and the few meetings he’d had with Ly’an always proved delightful, and interesting.

[Ly'an Godhammer]

Ly'an glanced up at Artifex and with a meek smile and blush she held up the red-hot metal, “A sword my friend. And may Father grant our meeting and craft fruitful.” With a nod in his direction she motioned with her hammer, “You might want to open the vent, you are smoking.” Ly'an let out a chuckle and brought her hammer against the metal once again, with each bouncing assault from her hammer sparks erupted. One couldn't be sure what the female Isur was forging, but whatever it was, she felt it was necessary to bring it to fruition here in the forge of her race's father. Her bald scalp was sweating something fierce underneath the coif and she could do nothing about it as of current. Once it became clear to her that the metal needed reheating she placed it back into the forge and dipping her hammer into her barrel with one hand she pulled off her coif with to other and proceeded to tossing it on the workbench beside the anvil and help her sweating scalp out with a splash from a ladle full from the barrel. Once she was cooled as much as she could possibly be from the salt water she replaced her coif and removed the metal from the forge. It's red glow could be seen gleaming purplish against her primary arms coloration as she once more picked up her hammer. “May my arm do the work and my heart do your will.” The metal was as close to the dimensions she was aiming for and she placed the red hot steel so it was half off the anvil and she started the slow and tedious process of bending the steel so it became a red-hot 90 degree angle of steel. Was it was were she couldn't bend it any farther without breaking it in half Ly'an shoved it back into the forge and let it heat up completely. Taking the time she had created for herself just then to remove her leather coif and gloves. Placing both on the work bench she looked at Artifex, “What brings a man such as yourself to the forge, I would've thought that your life's craft would've already been finished.” Ly'an smirked as she stopped before the large anvil in the middle of the room and placed both hands on the edge of it. With her blue primary hand she gently and reverently traced the hammer insignia engraved. “Regardless of your reasons here, may Father see your work as favorable.” As I know I will. She blushed a little from her thoughts and turned to look back at her forge. The steel was a light red color, not quite were she felt it was needed to be to finish the bending process. “What have you in mind to forge today, Artifex?” Ly'an stepped towards him and pushed his barrel of water closer to his anvil. “A man of your age should know to have the barrel closer to his workspace.” She pointed towards her setup, “See mine?” Ly'an looked back, her steel was a bit hotter than she wanted. “Oh no!” Ly'an ran over and pulled it out and without hesitating she grabbed her hammer and started to fold over the perpendicular side of the fold so it was slowly decreasing it's angle until it was folded down against itself like she just folded it over and creased the one end of it. Once it was there she heated it back up and with a few more quick hammer strikes she welded the folded end down and once again heated the piece back up before flipping it over and repeated the process on the other side, forcing out the three-quarters section to be twice in width and a quarter in thickness.

[Artifex]

Artifex smiled as Ly’an explained her reasons for being at the forge. When she noted the vent his face took on a humorously grim appearance, as he spun around to open the vent before havoc was wrought. Quickly opening the vent Artifex took note of Ly’an’s chuckle. It was honest; it was warm, like the forge that roared before him. After he finished tending to the forge-so that nothing else would go a miss while he chatted-he turned and watched as Ly’an went about her craft. She was truly very skilled, and he had always admired that. He often believed her to be his equal-even if she was a weaponsmith and he was an armorer. As she placed the metal back into the forge, he watched as she uttered a prayer and then traced the hammer symbol on the anvil that sat upon the central dais. He even caught-just the faintest hint-of Ly’an blushing. It made him smile. He thought about what it was exactly he was here to forge, at the moment the thought escaped him. He laughed-a hearty warming laugh-as she took the reins and pointed out all that he had yet to prep for forging, and she was right on every point. However Artifex had yet to prep since he’d only arrived and he liked to take his time with the process. One never needed to rush the arts, and he felt as though by doing as he did he honored Izurdin more. His contemplation was broken as he noticed Ly’an panic when she realized she’d perhaps overdone the heating of the metal. It caused Artifex to let loose another warming laugh from his throat-which roared through the immediate area as if it could take to the wind of its own accord. It was then that the memory returned to him. “I have had it in mind for some time, to forge a steel kite shield, with a few symbols upon the front. It may not sound anything special, but I’m sure once you see the end result it will all come together.” He wished to describe more, but there was a showmanship part of him that wanted to see the look on her face when it was finished. Oh Father, please let my endeavor not fall to folly, and do watch over Ly’an’s for she follows in your grace with the same strength of faith that I do. He took the opportunity to move back to his forge and get on his gloves. Moving the barrel closer to the anvil, he doused them both with the cold water, and placed the steel into the forge. As he did so he looked over to Ly’an and said just loud enough so that they could continue their conversation at a distance: “What wondrous weapon are you crafting now Ly’an?” Genuine curiosity was etched into the edges of his words, and a flicker akin to sparks briefly flashed within his eyes. He then watched as the metal heated. Slowly but surely the metal began to glow, and glow until at last it arrived upon the right point. Pulling the metal free from the forge he placed it on the anvil in front of him, and began a dance of hammer blows. They did not stand out among the other blows that were being delivered by other smiths, but they rang out uniquely in his head. They sounded like music. However he noticed something at the same time. From one of his side’s the same music sounded. He had heard it before, but only when one circumstance was met. He only heard that music play, when it was being played by one other person-other than himself. Ly’an. The hammer blows halted as he flipped the metal which was now stretched a little more and its width was more than what it had been earlier. It would be a while until he would arrive at the shape of the kite shield, but his training had prepared him for such and his faith gave him the patience to endure the time it would take. He could already envision the placement of the emblem and the small word he would imprinted thereon. He smiled as he placed the metal back in the forge; its core still a mild red which meant that it wouldn’t take long to heat. He waited for it. He waited for Ly’an to continue the conversation. He waited for the music; a mingling of hammer blows and voice.

[Ly'an Godhammer]

“A kite shield, eh?” With a nodded Ly'an positioned her weapon so it sat in the forge to reheat, but not directly in the coals, this way she had more time to converse before having to resume beating on the hot metal. “You may have to show me how to make something like that sometime. I would love to learn the art of armor making.” She beamed a bright smile at the fellow Vizerian as she looked back at her slowly reheating weapon, “It is going to be a long sword, I think, I plan on giving it as an offer to Father.” She smiled, “Or give it to the Hammer as a gift for protect us. I have yet to decide.” Ly'an nodded and pointed towards the anvil that sat in the middle of the room. “Why not set your hammer down and your project beside the coals so it may heat slowly and let us pray to Father for guidance and help, what says you?” Ly'an said with a smile and a soft blush that could have either came from the heat of the room, the workout of hefting both hot metal and a hammer, or it could be the underlying emotions she had... The sad thing is, Ly'an actually had to look up to Artifex in order to see his facial expressions, but that is okay, because it also means he would have to look down to see her's. And if she was looking down, well, he couldn't see her expressions well at all. Without waiting his answer she stepped up to the anvil and removing her small hammer necklace from inside of her tunic the bald Isurian female started to mutter prayers of guidance and praise to her Father.

[Artifex]

Artifex smiled as Ly’an slowed in her smithing process and chatted with him. He enjoyed the smile that she radiated towards him. He thought that it would be a splendid act if she made the sword as an offering or if she gave it to the Hammer; either way. He was also happy to hear that she held an interest in the ways of armor making. He had always wanted to teach another the craft, even if he himself was not an expert yet in the craft. “I would love to teach you the ways of an armorer, and I myself would love to learn the ways of weaponsmithing. Perhaps one day we will find the opportunity and begin such collaboration.” He beamed a hearty smile. He listened as Ly’an made the offer to share in prayer, which was something he’d never refuse. “That would be a splendid idea.” He watched as she left the forge, and thus he pounded a few more strikes into the metal, and stretched it as he went all the way around. Strike and pull, always outward so that the metal stretched, and finally he stopped. Making sure he didn’t rush he took the metal and placed it back in the forge, but not in the coals so it wouldn’t heat quickly. Then he splashed some water over his face, hammer, and anvil. Slowly he made his way to the anvil, and placed a light touch upon it as he fingered his amulet. He marveled at the craft that had given birth to the anvil, and to the insignia thereon. He hoped to craft something that would one day be praised with such grace by Izurdin. Finally he arrived beside Ly’an, and pulled off his prayer beads and the amulet that they held. It was not the traditional symbol of Izurdin, but it had been an heirloom that he had been honored to receive. Plus he saw within it the other half of creation, it represented endurance, resolve. It reminded him of his people and their strength to endure through the cataclysm. He watched as Ly’an prayed, and looking down he took in her features; which were marvelous. Oh Father I pray thee deliver unto me-and Ly’an-guidance. Guide our hammers so that they may strike true, and thus forge items of wonder. I pray thee help us in the times to come, for I doubt not that there will be trials before us. I pray thee watch over us and…one day bind us together. He said everything out loud, except for the last part which he kept to himself. The last part he had said before, but here before the anvil, and beside Ly’an it sounded more true, and honest. He also found it odd that he wore the anvil and Ly’an wore the hammer, the two halves to a system. After finishing his prayer he stood there waiting for Ly’an to finish, or to initiate them in a shared prayer. His eyes gazed down at her, assessing the expressions and features of her-lovely-face.

[Ly'an Godhammer]

There was a vibrating hum in the air; it must be coming from Father’s anvil that she and Artifex stood before. “Oh Father please grant us our most humble requests so that we may be guided by your greatness. Grant us the ability to see beyond the piece of metal that we forge in your name and make its end product an image of your perfection.” Ly’an paused as she looked to Artifex before closing her eyes again and finishing up the prayer. “And grant us the power to honor your wishes for all eternity. Amen.” She paused once more in silence as she looked at Artifex and then cleared her throat, “Thank you friend. Let us finish our projects.” She bowed to both Artifex and the anvil before slipping back to her heated up sword project and started once again on finishing the second bit of stretching out and folding process. A few more times, she figured, and the blade’s durability would be accurate and she could start the process of forging its shape. “And yes, let us come together sometime and teach each other our crafts. It will be a unified and trusting relationship I foresee.” Ly’an nodded and blushed as she placed her project once more on the coals. Blushing from the heat of the forge, or the heat of your heart? Ly’an refused to answer her conscious thought and just continued with her work.

[Artifex]

Artifex listened as Ly'an spoke her prayers. They were strong, and true to every word. He hoped that Izurdin would head their prayers, and cast his grace upon them. He looked down into her eyes as the silence filled the space between them, and her gaze held steady. Then she broke it off and said that they should get back to work. He agreed. The metal would be at a reasonable heat by now due to the position it had been left in before he had gone to pray. He watched as she left, and he noted the way she carried herself with strength. He admired the quality. Then he looked back to the anvil, and placed his hand on the symbol. Oh Father, watch over us, as you always have. See to it that our patience and labors are rewarded fairly. In return i will see to it that i will honor you in all that i do, and i shall strive to improve upon that forever more. Please be patient with me, for the mountain is not born in a day, but over the course of decades and centuries. Amen.. The anvil slightly buzzed beneath his touch, which he found both odd and delightful. Slowly he began walking back to his forge. He watched as Ly'an went about forging her weapon. Her skill was wonderful even though she was still young by Isur standards. Finally arriving at his forge he grabbed his gloves, and before donning them yet again he ran a weathered hand through his crop of hair-which was ridged as ever. Then he put them on and went back to work. Artifex splashed some more water over his hammer and anvil. He grabbed the tongs and pulled the metal out of the fire. The metal glowed with a radiant red, and was just right. Placing the metal onto the anvil Artifex eyed it as he spun the hammer in his hand. Then he struck the metal at the edges. Then again a hands breadth away, then again, and again. All the way around the right side of the metal. When he arrived at the top corner of the piece of metal he added a few extra blows. Each time he struck he pulled towards himself so as to stretch the metal. The purpose of the extra blows was to begin the making of the curved top to the kite shield. He repeated the process along the other side. Once that had been done he looked up for a brief moment to wipe some of the sweat from his forehead. As he did so he noticed Ly'an looking across at him and blushing, she had put the metal back into the fire. As he went about hammering and pulling the bottom part of the steel into a point Artifex chose to multitask and reply to Ly'an: "I agree it would be a strong...relationship. I look forward to the day." Something about the way he said it sounded so natural, so honest, so true. "Perhaps one of these days we should discuss how to setup the matter, perhaps over a drink or two?" He realized after he said it that the offer sounded very much like a date. He blushed, something that he didn't do very often. He tried to hide it but he felt as though it was obvious. He stopped hammering the metal, and put hit back into the fire so that it would heat up again. He looked up waiting for Ly'an to respond.

[Ly'an Godhammer]

Ly’an nodded, “A drink or two would be pleasant enough to discuss matters of craft.” It sounded as much of an acceptance as any. Ly’an shook her head, with no hair to wave about it Ly’an was able to feel the breeze of the motion a whole lot better, she ladle some water from her bucket, leaning her head over it and dumped the contents onto her bald crown, the curve of her cranium and gravity pulled the water to the front of her head and into her face were it rolled off of her cheekbones and nose. Placing the ladle back on the edge of the barrel Ly’an tossed on her coif and gloves and pulled out her sword-project. It wasn’t nearly at the stage were she could start hammering out the form and cutting edge, so she continued on with what she was doing: pounding out the metal, stretching it, and refolding it. She had already done the process three times and thus she has already strengthened the blade three-fold, a key aspect in sword making is the strength of the weapon. If a weaponsmith just hammered out a blade out of a piece of ingot, it would just snap in half with the first impact against armor. Ly’an knew better. She wasn’t the grandest or greatest weaponsmith, but she did know the basics to say the least. The hot metal was already at a ninety degree angle once more and the Isurian smith started to hammer it back down, welding the two halves together once more and lastly sealing them shut before once again tossing it into the coals. A handful or two of coals, a few pulls on the billows, and Ly’an rested her hammer on her anvil, taking a deep breath before sitting on the bench itself. Her legs ached from standing there for some time. Sword making is a process that takes due patience and a willingness to stand there and strike the metal repetitively in the same fashion over and over again. Stretching and folding, over and over again before one can even envision what the final project will look like. That is what most weaponsmiths do. Not I, I already know what I want the finished project to look like, a straight blade with little left to imagine, a blade worthy of the Hammer or Father himself. I feel though that I am missing something. I have already quadrupled the strength of the blade… Was I supposed to do that with the tang? If so, I will have to stretch out the tang and focus on that next, can’t have a sword snapping at the hilt now can I? Ly’an nodded and pulled the red out sword out, even the tang this time hit the flames without her knowing it. With a nod at her unconscious thought of heating the tang up she started the stretch-fold process on the tang, until that was in the same four times thickness that the rest of the sword was. Once that was complete Ly’an once more placed the whole thing into the hot coals and allowed it to reheat. With a few minutes to spare as her sword reheated Ly’an meandered around the forge, bringing life back to the forges that weren’t manned, it seemed only proper to keep the forges of Izurdin’s Forge lit even if not in use. This took her only a few seconds at each forge before she ended up next to Artifex’s forge. “Did you want to get drinks after we have completed our projects? Or did you want to get drinks another time? Like, say… Three days hence?” Her blue-gray eyes reflected the hot coals of the forges closest to her. Without any answer she moved around him, coaxing the life back into the next one, and repeated the process down the line until she made it back to the forge she was working with. Pulling out the hot metal once more this time Ly’an worked on stretching out the metal of the whole thing, making sure not to screw up the different dimensions of the two parts: tang and blade. OOCSorry it took me so long to reply. >.<

[Artifex]

"Splendid then! Splendid! Drinks we shall have!" Artifex exclaimed with a jovial exhalation of words and laughter. He watched as Ly'an went back to her work, as she dumped the water over her head. The water glistened off of her skin as light from the forge reflected through each droplet. He studied her briefly. Each and every angle and curve. It was a beauty that she herself had forged, and he couldn't imagine her any other way. He briefly watched as she hammered away, and then turned to attend to his work. The forge was dying down, and so he decided to take the time to bring it back to life. Before doing so he made sure that the metal wasn't overheating, and in fact it was a few moments away from the proper red hue. He tossed in a handful of coals and pulled hard on the bellows, once, then twice. The forge roared back to life, and he noticed that the metal was ready. He splashed the anvil with some water, then his face, and then put on his gloves. He pulled the metal free from its bed of fire, and placed it upon the anvil. The anvil briefly sizzled from the remnants of water droplets that came into contact with the hot metal. He hefted his hammer, and gave a calculated glance at the metal. The first blow felt like the opening to a beautiful song, and then the rest followed suit. He looked at it once more, and decided to add a bit of curvature to the sides of the shield, instead of the usual flatness that he saw on most kite shields. This wouldn't bring into question the integrity of the metal. In fact he had prepared for this just in case. He had brought with him another piece of metal, that he had previously hammered into the shape of the metal that sat before him. The plan was to instead of folding the metal for strength he would layer the two pieces on top of one another and then weld them together for double the strength. However for the sake of structural integrity he needed to do most of the folding now, instead of after the welding; lest he bring the integrity into question with to much hammering. Hammer blow after hammer blow added the curves to the current piece of metal, which needed to be folded a little more so it fit into the other piece of metal. Strike, and pull, strike and fold. The process continued unabated until all the heat fled the metal, and strangely in unison, Ly'an arrived behind him. She had been stoking the other forges. "I suppose if we feel up to it after finishing why not celebrate with a drink and subsequently talk craft! Although if not i'd prefer sooner rather than later since it has been some time since we last spent time together, eh clansmen." He looked once more at the metal before him which was still mildly warm to the touch and picked it up. He placed it inside the other metal half he had brought and placed out. It fit. Now came the harder part. Welding was a tricky business at times, and if done wrong could ruin a job. He took the two pieces apart and then put them both into the forge. He watched as they heated up and then went to grab the flux which would be needed to stop the metal from oxidizing. "It would be nice to have a long hearty chat!..." it was then that Artifex as per his usual jolly self decided to sing a song, as if he were at a bar rather than a forge, although the lyrics fit. His voice carried loud enough for Ly'an to hear over her hammering. The sounds of the forge even seemed to chime in like some strange chorus. "Oh look at the coals they're almost out, Man the bellows, hear them shout, The flames are dancing, My hammer blows are a glancing, I swear i'm not drunk, Though perhaps a bit tipsy, But there's work to be done, So hammer away, And through each blow, Forge another day, And with Izurdin's patience, I'll see that day dawn." As he finished he laughed a hearty laugh.