77, Spring 515 AV
Today was planishing day. Sure, it wasn’t going to be the entire day, but it was going to take enough bells that he might as well mentally brace himself for the long tedium of light hits on the same piece of metal with the same hammer using the same stake. It was all cold work too; even the forge wouldn’t break up the monotony.
But there were worst fates, and the mindlessness of planishing could actually be relaxing. Like his own work-centric form of meditation.
It could even help take his mind off of the Nal’lyeo.
Baelin couldn’t lie to himself: he had hoped the Nal’lyeo would stretch on for the better part of a season. Then maybe, just maybe, the Maelstrom pod might have had enough time to sail up to Syliras all the way from Black Rock.
But the Nal’lyeo had ended two days ago; a bare fifteen days after it had started. The Svefra’s winged messengers were fast and efficient, but they couldn’t work miracles. Even if the message had managed to get down to Black Rock, there was just no way that the Svefra pods would be even close.
The Black Rock native heaved a sigh and brought his attention back to his planishing. The vambrace he was working on had already been worked into its final shape. The next step was to get the blemishes out that are inherent in work done with a hammer.
The metal tinged as he brought his hammer down in small, event hits. Baelin preferred to use a round stake for his planishing. He knew some smiths prefered the mushroom stakes for things like vambraces. Shyke, he’d used mushroom stakes himself when he started. But the more the appentice worked on planishing, the more he realized he liked having a reliable and fixed point of contact for whatever he was hitting.
He kept his focus on what he was doing. Despite its tedium, you could quite easily ruin a piece by hitting too often at the point of contact with the stake. The metal would thin on you. The smith rotated the vambrace over the round stake, arm continuing to come down in short, gentle bursts.
Baelin was starting at what he liked to call the top of the vambrace; or the part where, if you laid it flat on its long edges, would be the highest up. He worked in strips, carefully making hits along the top until he had a nice, shiny line.
The smith paused for a moment to run his thumb over the work, feeling for bumps and other blemishes that may be a bit hard to spot with the eye. Finding a few, he went back to the areas and continued to gently tap his planishing hammer on them. Rechecking them with his thumb, he repeated the process until he was satisfied the line he had been working on was smooth and flat.
Baelin had shifted the vambrace to begin a second line, just under his first, when a breathtakingly familiar voice chirped behind him, “Hiya, Bael.”
Today was planishing day. Sure, it wasn’t going to be the entire day, but it was going to take enough bells that he might as well mentally brace himself for the long tedium of light hits on the same piece of metal with the same hammer using the same stake. It was all cold work too; even the forge wouldn’t break up the monotony.
But there were worst fates, and the mindlessness of planishing could actually be relaxing. Like his own work-centric form of meditation.
It could even help take his mind off of the Nal’lyeo.
Baelin couldn’t lie to himself: he had hoped the Nal’lyeo would stretch on for the better part of a season. Then maybe, just maybe, the Maelstrom pod might have had enough time to sail up to Syliras all the way from Black Rock.
But the Nal’lyeo had ended two days ago; a bare fifteen days after it had started. The Svefra’s winged messengers were fast and efficient, but they couldn’t work miracles. Even if the message had managed to get down to Black Rock, there was just no way that the Svefra pods would be even close.
The Black Rock native heaved a sigh and brought his attention back to his planishing. The vambrace he was working on had already been worked into its final shape. The next step was to get the blemishes out that are inherent in work done with a hammer.
The metal tinged as he brought his hammer down in small, event hits. Baelin preferred to use a round stake for his planishing. He knew some smiths prefered the mushroom stakes for things like vambraces. Shyke, he’d used mushroom stakes himself when he started. But the more the appentice worked on planishing, the more he realized he liked having a reliable and fixed point of contact for whatever he was hitting.
He kept his focus on what he was doing. Despite its tedium, you could quite easily ruin a piece by hitting too often at the point of contact with the stake. The metal would thin on you. The smith rotated the vambrace over the round stake, arm continuing to come down in short, gentle bursts.
Baelin was starting at what he liked to call the top of the vambrace; or the part where, if you laid it flat on its long edges, would be the highest up. He worked in strips, carefully making hits along the top until he had a nice, shiny line.
The smith paused for a moment to run his thumb over the work, feeling for bumps and other blemishes that may be a bit hard to spot with the eye. Finding a few, he went back to the areas and continued to gently tap his planishing hammer on them. Rechecking them with his thumb, he repeated the process until he was satisfied the line he had been working on was smooth and flat.
Baelin had shifted the vambrace to begin a second line, just under his first, when a breathtakingly familiar voice chirped behind him, “Hiya, Bael.”