Fall 13, Era 510 Dawn had heralded the end another sleepless night for the Isurian smith and so he sat at his workbench in the gloom of the Ironworks. As yet the forges were still mostly banked from the night before and only one or two had been stoked back into life by apprentices who worked the bellows and topped off the fires with new fuel of their Masters choice. Eanos knew it was dawn only by the stirring to life in the workplace for the light of the sun did little to disturb the eternal darkness of the corner where he sat. A lantern guttered softly on the wall behind him but he noticed it not for his attention was on the parchment in front of him and the swift strokes of the stick of charcoal which rendered the glyph in bold lines. He sighed and added it to the small stack which he weighted down with a small hammer then sighed, stood and stretched out the kinks resulting from hunching over the bench as he concentrated on the process of drawing and then giving life to the glyphs he prepared for his next attempt at magecrafting. Some of the smiths were arriving now and he caught the eye of those he knew, serving them with a nod. But there were some that he had not yet met, not because they were new, but because he had been keeping himself to himself. It was time to change that, for smithing was his business and it was one thing to avoid those he had no interest in, but quite another to avoid those who could help him as he moved along the path of progress. Those he didn't yet know he sought out and if they did not glare overmuch then he introduced himself and bade them good morning. |