When inspiration strikes [The Arma'Drex Smithy ]

by **Favchean Hronis** on November 15th, 2013, 12:47 am

Time Stamp 82 Fall 513

The light of Leth was starting to rise over the landscape of Riverfall, the pale glow of Syna barely a memory on the western horizon. Most of the citizens and and visitors of the city were probably heading home by now but there was one that was still within the Arma'Drex Smithy. His task was to shut down the forge and make sure the fires were properly extinguished so no accidents were likely. Before he did that however, Favchean had had a thought.

He had seen Starling again, and her flowery stilleto that she had tried to stab her own finger with when he had first met her caught his attention once more. He started to think about a dagger, not a stilletto but a more narrow blade then a normal dagger. It would be a feminine blade for sure, but with the option for stabbing or slicing. In Favchean's opinion daggers were not decorative blades but ones for attack or defense. And when you had to defend yourself you want both options open.

He pulled out a pad of paper and pencil, and hunched over the table. A candle sat lit but set well away, as an Akalak he didn't really need the light to see per-say but it did allow him to be able to see the details better then with the infared that came with his race.

The pencil had seen better days, and was more a nub of charcoal, cradled in his large squared hand it looked ridiculous but he didn't care. He stroked over the page, long lines, and short lines, often times rubbing a way a line he didn't like. He moved slowly, deliberately without speed. The forge was hot, and the room remained warm thanks to the forge but Favchean didn't notice any of this as he drew.

In the end the dagger he had designed was narrow of blade, lightweight for a woman's lighter build, tapered to a point for stabbing but also holding a wicked double edge. If he could execute it the way he was thinking he should in his mind, then it would be a dangerous weapon and not one that one would want to use without some training.

by **Favchean Hronis** on November 15th, 2013, 5:08 am

Once the drawing was complete, Favchean tore off that paper and put it aside for easy reference. He then the charcoal pencil and began to sketch again. This time it was a close up of the blade, with the delicate edging and curves Favchean wanted to make sure that that the blade was drawn real sized, he didn't trust his limited knowledge to free-hand cut the blade.

The blade was curved slightly on the top, but only toward the tip. A fierce grin lifted the green Akalak's lips as he thought of the poor sot who bothered a Riverfall lady in possession of this blade. The wicked curve would mean that when the blade was withdrawn it would do just as much damage as it does going in.

Slowly does he draw, still erasing the crooked lines as this had to be precise. If it wasn't then the blade would be deformed and not strong enough to even practice with. If his skin wasn't so dark, his right hand -the hand he wasn't using to draw so thus was using to erase- would have been black with charcoal. He doesn't disgrace himself by poking his tongue from his lips in concentration, but his lips are set in a tight line and his blue eyes were staring determinedly at the drawing.

A quick prayer to Wysar was given, a prayer to steady his hands and heart so that he didn't run head long into this blade's creation..to follow the conviction he felt in the need to make a dangerous ladies' dagger.

Once the actual-size copy of the blade was as close to perfect as he could possibly make it with his basic knowledge of drawing, he took a pair of shears and cut it out delicately. Lifting it he saw the edges of the paper were ragged, his large hands were not made for tiny delicate work such as cutting evenly, however it would work for his purpose.

The next thing was to go into the scrap metal, Favchean was simply an apprentice and never used brand new sheets of steel for his after hours projects. Instead he found a size-able piece of scrap metal left over from another dagger that would work. Bringing it over to the table he laid the drawing he made on it face down, and pressed his squared palm over it firmly. His body leaned forward to put more weight, almost as if he wished to crush the steel beneath the paper, but that was not what he was doing.

Gently he lifts the paper, very slowly peeling it off the steel. Beneath, on the steel, was black lines pressed from the paper onto the metal. Grinning, that worked a lot better then he had thought it would, he got the sharper shears, the ones never used for paper and the like. Instead they were use for snipping through the steel. They were difficult to use, and even Favchean with his Akalak strength usually found his hand weary and sore after using them. However they were the easiest to make sure that each edge was correct.

by **Favchean Hronis** on November 15th, 2013, 6:08 am

Taking the shears in his hand, these shears were heavier then the ones he had cut the paper with and sturdier. They didn't look quite so ridiculous in his large blocky hands as the others had. With exquisite care he snips, it's not really cutting because the steel is not like paper that parts easily. Instead every close of the shears sees his hand tremble with the force, and most of the time he had to tilt the shears right and left to force it through the metal.

It is a long and grueling process, and one that even the normal 'noise' in his head that he was accustomed to in most instances of his life from his dark brother was silent as he struggled with the hard substance. He doesn't know how many chimes it took him to cut it out, maybe even half a bell. When he is done he has to shake his hand gently, and flex his fingers to return normal feeling to them. But he is happy with the results.

He sits back on the stool, and arranges his drawings again to look at when he was startled by something that the dark brother piped up about.

"I have been thinking

"Oh?" When the dark brother spoke of having thoughts Favchean always got a little tense. The last time he 'had a thought', Favchean wound up spending a summer at his mother's knee learning how to roll bandages. How she found out that it was he and his brother that had stole Father's Kukri he doesn't know.

"Yes. Don't get that thought going, I can't see but I know your curling our lip like you do. What I have been thinking is, we are going to have to decide a second name for me."

"What?" Of course this entire conversation was done silently, within his own head. If anyone were to walk in now they would simply see a dark green male with his massive arms cross over his chest staring at the rough blade-like contraption on the table. "You woke up when we were ten, we have spent the last three decades being Favchean. Why would you want to change that now?"

He and his dark brother were not drastic polar opposites as some Akalaks were. Instead they tended to compliment each other, what the light was horrible at the dark tended to do well in. There were some things that both just couldn't do at all, but for the most part they were a good match. It is one of the few things that Favchean thanked the mother -Akijia- for. So they just found it easier to both go by Favchean, often referring to each other by their pre-dominance to be dominant or recessive -Light brother or Dark.

"We didn't have need to. But we are closing in on forty five years of age Light Brother. It has been just easier to slip into the name like a second glove. Mother knows how, Father knows how..most of our Akalak Brethren know how though they think we are odd not to differ ourselves. But our mate won't."

Favchean looked up, almost as if he expected to see someone at the door, though of course there was no one there. Of course, the likelihood of finding someone within Riverfall that he would be willing to take as a mate was slim. More likely it would be that he would use a Nakivak for the sons expected. However he hoped for a Konti mate, more then a mother for his sons but a wife. Like his father had. For that he might or might not have to leave Riverfall..and it would be easier to ...explain the dual nature if there was something more substantive then just his words. "Perhaps you are right. What name would you want?"

"What do you think of Chealvan. It is still a mixture of Father and Mother's name."

"If it will make you hush about it so I can finish this dagger, then I will say it is the finest name in all the city." Favchean grins to himself, and reaches for the roughened paper.

by **Favchean Hronis** on November 15th, 2013, 7:33 am

Taking the rough paper in his left hand, Favchean picked up the roughly cut steel with his right and began to buff the metal. Even though he is predominantly left handed he was still equally as careful with holding the jagged bit with his right hand. His dark brother -Chealvan- was predominantly right handed and would not let him have any peace if he damaged it. After thirty-three years of having him around and awake, Favchean didn't even know how he would handle if things were...quiet in his head.

His hands pass over the edges of the soon-to-be blade with the paper, smoothing out the jagged edges, polishing and smoothing, smoothing and polishing. He doesn't quite whistle but it is obvious that he enjoys his work. There was little else in this life that was so settling as working with your hands. Even the Kata of his martial arts was really just working with his body and hands. And that was the most calming thing he does.

Soon enough the blade has taken shape. It was still flimsy and weak, just like everything else in this life it will take a trial by fire to strengthen it.

(continued in Heat Strengthens

by **Magpie** on November 30th, 2013, 11:14 pm

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Favchean :

Notes :

If you have any questions or concerns about what was awarded, please don't hesitate to PM me.

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Solo When inspiration strikes [The Arma'Drex Smithy ]