Solo Making a Spear For a Young Man

[Terag]

31st of Fall, 515AV – one bell before noon The normal thuds of hammers on metal was all that could be heard in The Ironworks, as to be expected. Especially with the expansion from last season, the sounds were almost continuous. Thankfully, towards the front where customers would come it that sound wasn’t too loud that business couldn’t be done. Terag was sitting at the grinding wheel towards the front, so if a customer came in he could get up and assist them. His movements were practiced, from the spinning of the grind wheel by the pedals and how Terag moved the dagger back and forth along to grind out the nicks in the blade. Here and there he would still grind just a bit too much and he would frown and quickly go about fixing the edge around the mistake, but his movements were definitely much more practiced than when he had first come to Syliras. And as always, he sang as he worked. “Here I sit at the grind wheel, Working my day away. Here I make my living, And that’s what I’ll always say. Here is where I am supposed to be, The only place that’ll ever matter to me.” His singing continued on for a while, that was until a customer walked in through the door and into The Ironworks. Terag smiled, cutting his singing short – he was still a bit embarrassed about his habit around those who weren’t used to it at this point. Though, that was mostly because he just wasn’t that good at it, and he was sure the other smiths just hammered louder to try to cover it up. He stood from his seat and made his way to the counter, wiping the dagger off on his apron as he made his way. “Ah, hello! Looking for something today? What are you in the need of?” Terag looked the man over, ”Here for a new weapon maybe? Becoming man of the house and going out to make a name? You look like you might be thirty, maybe thirty-five.” Of course, that was in Isurian years and the man was actually about nineteen in human years. Once the man stopped looking at Terag like he was speaking gibberish he made his request. “Yes, I’m here for a spear. My pa’ has been on me to get something and it seems like something easy, just sort of point it and go, right?” The young man smiled a bit, trying to make it seem like he was joking. Though Terag completely missed it and was now looking at the man like he was insane. “No, it is not that easy. Boy I hope you are getting some actual training with this weapon because if that is all you think it is you might be better with something else. I do not want to seem rude, but I cannot have you dying and having that on me. But if you are still sure, then let use discuss price and more. What do you need it made of?” Of course Terag was being a bit rude, though he wasn’t completely aware. He just figured some humans just didn’t get it.

[Terag]

The young man looked offended for a moment, though Terag tried to ignore it for the time being. The man shook his head and then spoke again. “Right, yes. I will get real training and practice with it. Don’t worry. I want something strong but not too expensive. I don’t need anything special for it.” Terag thought for a moment, of course the first thing that came to his mind was the weapon that started his real love for crafting: the short spear. “If you want something you can hold in one hand there is the short spear. Not always the best on your own, but it does the job. Two golden mizas for that, or perhaps for a normal spear is five golden mizas though those are much longer. There is also a half spear? Those are a single golden miza.” Terag looked the man over again, he was a good couple of inches taller than Terag. A shortspear would work just fine for his height, at least if he kept a shield in his other hand. “The shortspear, even two golden mizas feels like a lot but that will work. I have a wooden shield at home I made with my father, so I think I will be fine. So that one. ” The man rummaged in his pockets for a moment before taking out a small pile of coins, most of which were silver and copper looking. He took two golden mizas from the pile and set them on the counter before returning the small pile of coins to his pocket. Terag stayed silent for a long moment, hearing this man refer to his father so easily made Terag a bit jealous. Of course it shouldn’t be that hard to talk about. He suppressed the emotions for now and smiled a bit for the customer. “Of course, please return tomorrow and there will be a spear ready for you.” Terag waved to the man as he left, and then promptly turned and motioned for another smith to take his position at the front. He went to the back and grabbed an ingot of steel, one enough for a spear head, and made his way to an open forge and anvil. They were ready for working already, a forge as big as this and at high noon meant that at least some of these were always ready for work. Especially with the amount of work that came in through just from the knights themselves meant that it was no issue keeping a good things running through the day. He crossed his arms across his chest as he just stared at the ingot in the flame of the forge. Thankfully his Isurian vision didn’t make the bright light hurt his eyes. Watching the metal slowly heat up was relaxing at least, and while he waited and continued to push away his old memories he tried to figure out a song he could sing while he worked. Maybe something more upbeat would make him feel better and forget about his father some more.

[Terag]

After what seemed like several bells, Terag reached into the open flame with his left hand. Even the feeling of the flames licking up his onyx-black arm was relaxing for Terag. Also, it was always amusing seeing the younger smiths jump for a moment when they noticed him elbow deep into the forge. He pulled the heated metal out from its perch and quickly moved to set it on the face of the anvil. With practiced movements he grabbed the hammer from the tool rack, and a pair of tongs. He couldn’t master these movements without looking just yet, but he was getting there. The tongs went into his right hand, so he could wield the hammer in his left hand. His movements weren’t swift, he was focusing more on the form. It was obvious he still needed to think about it was he worked – though he had definitely improved from the novice he had arrived as. The hammer came up and then back down onto the unworked metal, setting the smithing in motion and further along with each blow. With the rhythm of his hammer, as he wasn’t practiced in singing enough to keep a different rhythm going as he worked, he began his singing anew. “The man who works the forge, The man who works the blade, The man who works for his clan, He is the man who gets her love. His hammer strikes against the steel, His body stands strong against the enemy, His resolve pushes through against the struggle, He is the man who gets her love.” His song rumbled out, albeit slightly off key, from deep in his chest. Singing about love definitely got his mind off of his father. But it got him thinking about his lack of experience, about how he had never chased after a young Isurian woman or made her something precious in the forge. Perhaps it was because he was never interested in them, or at least none back home in Sultros. The women here in Syliras had definitely their own charm. A lot of them seemed much softer to the touch. They weren’t always covered in muscles and soot like the ones back home, perhaps that was the kind of girl he craved. He shook his head and tried to ignore the thoughts, focusing on the lyrics of the song instead. That, and on the spear head slowly taking form in front of him as he flattened out the steel. After flattening it out, he would turn the metal over and hammer down the edges towards a slightly rounded point before going back to the flat end and hammering again. This was to amek sure it kept the same general shape as he flattened out the metal. He also kept the other half of the metal unworked for the time being. He would work that end out later, to something that would slide into the wooden shaft of a spear. It was similar to the process that he made swords and daggers, though on a much smaller scale.

[Terag]

As the spear head finished taking shape before him, Terag set the spearhead into the forge again. The metal had cooled down too much and he needed it to be heated again before he worked the tang, which was going to almost be longer than the sharp end of the spear. It was needed of course, so it would stay in the wooden handle. The caps for the spear end and for just under the blade were already made. It was a common enough product that they were usually easily found around the forge. At least, he hoped there were still some pieces. If not, he might have a disappointed customer tomorrow. That was never good for business. This time after he pulled the metal from the forge he began to work the opposite end. It didn’t take long to flatten out the metal, and once that was done he used the edge of the anvil to work in the curve on the tang so that it was harder to snap the metal where the blade met the tang. He kept working at the metal, turning it over after ever few hits to keep his work even along the spear. As he worked this time he simply hummed to himself. The tune was one that he had heard from a wedding not too long ago, singing along as he remembered watching people dance on the floor. Perhaps dancing was something he should try to learn. He shrugged before returning to his work. By the time he was done with his work the sun had set. With the tang finished he set the spear head next to his rack of tools, and then slowly began to put away his tools and then his apron. He would have to work the edge on tomorrow morning and then buff out the metal until it shined. The shine wasn’t necessary, but a shiny piece of metal caught the attention better of any onlooker, and a well-kept edge was much more intimidating than a rusted hunk of metal that might snap off at any moment. Terag rubbed his face softly, rubbing the sleep away from his eyes. “Not yet, need to get home first. Then I can sleep, at least until the sun rise,” he mumbled to himself as he looked around at the other smiths and looking around his station to be sure everything was clean. Satisfied for the night, he turned and made his way out of The Ironworks and to his small and dark corner of Syliras. After being in the light of the forge for so long his room always seemed so dark at night, but at least his Isurian vision meant the darkness was never that bad, or at least not as bad as it was for humans. He did feel sorry for them sometimes, so many things seemed so much more complicated than it was for the Isur. Even courting was strange, it wasn’t as straight forward for them to win their spouses’ hand or impressing their families. Weird.

[Terag]

The next day just after the sun had risen, Terag was already hard at work. As other smiths made their way through the doors, he was already sitting at the grinding wheel, sharpening the edge of the spear. Before the metal was so dull that it would never be effective for anything, let alone a spear head. As he continuously work at the edges of the spear head he hummed to himself, though this time his focus was much more on his work. Occasionally he slipped a bit, though this was rare for him now and thankfully when he did it was always his left hand that ended up being pushed against the grinding stone. Not a great feeling, but his blessed arm was sturdy enough that he did not have to worry about it. The grinding was a repetitive task but it was over soon enough. Once finished, he blew off along the edges of the spear head to blow off the bits of metal and stone bits that were hanging on still. He ran index finger and thumb from his left hand along the edge, pinching it to catch whatever flak was still on it. It was a rewarding feeling, seeing the metal shine out from underneath. The glint reminded him of the Isurians, and the way their arms caught the light of torches and sunlight. Either way, it meant his work was nearing completion. Next he walked towards the counter, grabbing a rough sandpaper and setting the spear head on the surface. Using his left hand to hold it in place, he set to work on the spear head with the sandpaper. Slowly but surely the metal underneath would shine through as he went through finer and finer sandpaper to bring out its shine. At the end, he sword he could see his reflection in the metal. He couldn’t really, his work wasn’t perfect enough to show a reflection in it just yet as it was still not perfectly smooth. Hopefully though, his work would achieve that level of perfection someday. Now for the final step, he walked back to the forge, holding his work in his left hand and held it in the forge to heat up the tang of the spear head. As he worked, the young man from yesterday made his way into the store. For a while Terag didn’t notice the young man, as he was awkwardly standing at the entrance. But, when Terag looked up from his work at the sound of a cough, he just smiled a bit and motioned to the man to wait a bit longer. He walked the short distance with his work to the spear shaft that was awaiting its final piece and slid the tang in through the opening in the top. He tightened the cap just underneath to that the spear head would hold in place rather than slip out. For extra security he took a long strip of leather and tied around some irregular protrusions from the base of the spear head, and tied it to the underside of the cap. He brought the finished product to the young man, handling it carefully over the counter. “Here you go, one spear. It should do you just fine, I put hard work into it. May it serve you well.” The man smiled a bit, despite the rudeness Terag had shown him yesterday. “Thank you, I’m sure it will. Have a good day then, Smith.” Terag chuckled a bit and waved as the man turned and made his way out the door. The man not knowing his name wasn’t an issue, it was something he was used to at this point. His name would be well-known soon enough, when his crafting was worthy of being told across the land. That would be the day.

[Hwyn]

XP Award!

Name:Terag
XP Award:

• Weapon Smithing 4
• Blacksmithing 2
• Singing 2
• Composition 2

Lore:

• Singing pushes back negative thoughts
• Composition: Rhythm of Song and Hammer
• Weapon smithing: Reflection comes with progress

Notes: Fun to read for certain, You've certainly researched your characters art, or at least convinced me you have. Also, have you ever considered having Terag write down some of his music? Might make a musician one day!

Anyways, fun read and good thread. Keep up the work.