Closed Onyx vs. Steel (Terag)

[Alexander Faircroft]

Description "Alex Common" Alex thoughts "Myrian" "Fratava" "Others"

Alex’s technique was serving him well. Practice with both a shield and a blade was granting him the advantage however the weight and exertion in a blaze of fury was granting him no favours. Still he had a good point he’d deflected both hits and landed a string pommel blow to Terag’s side. Hopefully letting him know that could have been a lot worse had he chosen to use the edge of the blade. Alex shifted his footing as the pommel strike landed hoping to catch his breath. However he’d been thinking that he was the one who’d have to break the strangle hold on the situation but instead it was Terag who backed off.

Not before landing a large strike to his shoulder with the arm made of solidified shadow. Maybe that’s exactly what it was made of? Still Alex pulled back his sword arm now stiff. He rolled his shoulder attempting to see if the impact had broken or fractured anything. Thankfully not but it hurt like nobody’s business. Still he then saw the dual pronged spear coming at him again the whirling weapon streaked across his breastplate thankfully the steel didn’t yield to the impact of the blow but instead left a long scratch in its wake. And then the incoming thrust Alex had time to prep for the edge of his shield catching it and sending the points sailing over his head.

However Alex could see Terag beginning to slow as well. A sign that they were still on equal footing with the stamina loss Alex had too. And then something unexpected filled the air. A hum. Something soft and melodic however Alex paid it no mind for the time being and instead Clammed up putting his shield directly in front of him before wheeling his blade around and scraping the tip along the floor using the full build of momentum to try and blast his shielding arm out of the way with the weight and power of his strike. His shield in place to deflect a blow which may come and then he’d take the shielded arm and drive his fist into Terag’s stomach after deflecting any sort of incoming strike. A Plain and simple technique however it was one that he felt had a good chance of working.

[Terag]

Terag kept humming, however the breaths between lines were a bit too long so his melody came off just a bit strange. The breathing was always just a half a beat too long, but it at least kept his breathing in check and kept his mind off the pain. The only blow of his own that had landed was the strike that was meant to be a distraction, it was shame. He accounted it to his own inexperience as he prepared himself again. His body was beginning to protest, but he had enough strength to continue through at least one more clash. He watched the man cover up, a smart move against a spear like his. The range should have given Terag an advantage due to his left arm being indestructible against weapons, but his mistakes stemmed from his overconfidence, eagerness, and his inexperience. He watched the sword scrape across the ground, and it took all of his attention. Instead of bringing his left arm and letting the sword hit the outside of his arm, which would have been smart, Terag decided to let his own hand meet the weapon. His left hand open he pushed it forward with hopefully enough force to push the weapon back, at least that was what he thought would happen. In all honesty, he still had little idea how his opponent's weapon would behave. If everything went well he would stop with a light grip on the sword and stop it from moving, but Terag had forgotten to take into account the force behind the weapon. His left arm would be pushed out of the way, the sword however may be in a slightly worse condition. In his haste, Terag had forgotten to strike with his warfork as well. There was no blow for Alexander to defend against, and the weapon was pointing outward and would be of no use to stop the next attack. Before Terag realized it he felt the full brunt of the attack into his stomach. Dense bone and skin helped, but it hurt and knocked the wind out of him. After taking a step back he fell down to one knee, and raised his left arm to cover his head. He barely had enough breath to call out, "Done!" He had lost, plain and simple. After a few long moments he forced himself to stand, and took a deep breath. His stomach hurt, and for a moment he lifted his shirt to inspect the point of impact. There was nothing yet, with his dense body he wasn't surprised it had yet to arrive. He wondered if his body would show any marks from the fight, since his people often wouldn't even bruise too badly if they missed a hammer strike and hit their hand - though it would definitely be sore. He looked up at the other fighter and smiled some, though the pain he felt was plain on his face. "It would seem I have much to learn still. Thank you, you are the stronger today. I will train and become better. You are very strong, yes? It was a good fight, perhaps it was better I lost. Put me back in my place and remind me to train." He chuckled some, but it was cut short due to the pain. He took another deep breath before continuing. "Alexander, yes? Perhaps we will have to train again, once I get better. Or maybe get a good beer, Syliras does not have silverwine, but the drinks are not too bad."

[Alexander Faircroft]

Description "Alex Common" Alex thoughts "Myrian" "Fratava" "Others"

The humming got louder, marginally and Alex finally figured out sit’s source as he stepped in, it was coming from Terag. Strange to find himself humming in the middle of a combat scenario. Perhaps it was his way of sharpening his focus.

Alex brought his sword across the tip catching against the sands and as he felt it impact…The impact was too firm too hard, he could feel the blade being pushed from his hands, almost like. He was, Terag had extended his arm and pushed the blade free from his hands sending it skittering a few feet from him. Effectively he’d been disarmed. But it wasn’t the sword which had gone missing…An unmistakeable sound of steel snapping hit Alex’s ears as the upper half of the blade tumbled of into the distance. Terag had blocked the sword with such force Alex’s sword had shattered closer to the handle…Perhaps it was the forging process or the cold weather. Something though had had an effect on the steel causing it to shatter and splinter. Alex grimaced and hissed through his teeth.

Despite the pain now ringing in his sword arm his shield arm had found purchase. The edge of the shield and his fist burying into what felt like granite. The heck was Terag made of? He felt like moving stonework. Though as the blow landed Terag wheezed out one word. He was finished. Despite the solidity of Terag’s form the blow had worked?! Knowing that this was probably true Alex took a moment to shake his sword arm and wince lightly feeling the wrist. At the very least that was a sprain, at worst possibly a fracture.
“Don’t worry about learning too much. You're plenty strong as it stands.” Alex spoke with a soft smirk still cradling his wrist. “I think we’d better call this your win…I’ve effectively been disarmed. And I think my wrist is a little…Well a lot sore. Both of them…Just what are you made of?” Alex let out a small chuckle through the wincing pain in his hands.

Taking a small pause Alex stepped over to the upper half of his blade the jagged steel on one end. He picked it up along the sharpened edge…
“Well…That’s disappointing.” Alex sighed. “Terag, your arm is officially stronger than steel…And now I need to find a way to get this blade fixed…Or it’s going to mean I’m going to need to requisition one for a while to train with.” Alex sighed slightly looking at the two halves of his sword. Though when he tried to fit them together he noticed something, the way they’d broken…Almost like the flaw was built into the steel waiting for a hard impact to shatter it.

A thought suddenly slipped into Alex’s mind. Terag had said he was a smith. And a weapon smith to boot. Perhaps today was his lucky day?
“Terag, you said you’re a smith right? Is there any way you could fix this for me? And perhaps figure out how to make the steel able to withstand the cold?” Alex was curious, if the sword had broken due to poor forging that was one thing but if it had broken due to the weather, then he needed to find a way to strengthen the weapon for such environments.

[Terag]

"Strong or not I do not think I can count high enough to count all of my missteps and mistakes. As for what am I made of. Well the rest of me is just flesh and bone, I swear. Just a bit thicker than you I guess. Either way once I was down to a knee I am sure you could just lay blows into me until I fall." He chuckled, for emphasis patting his stomach on the comment about being a bit thicker. It was a bad idea and he winced slightly, though his breaths were coming back a bit better now. When Alexander moved to pick up the blade of his weapon it occurred to Terag. He actually did snap his sparring partner's weapon in two. He took a long moment to look at his onyx black arm, flexing the muscles a bit. He had heard stories about stronger Isur than he breaking their opponents weapons and armor, but he had always assumed they were just stories. Maybe it was true, even finished metal could be bent to their whims with a strong enough desire. Terag was snapped out of his thoughts when Alexander said his name. He nodded, answering the questions directed to him as he walked over to inspect the weapon in question. He took the blade with his left hand to keep himself safe, and admired the break in the weapon first on the blade side than the handle that was still in Alexander's hand. "Yes, I can fix this. I will probably have to..." Terag voice got too quiet to hear as he mumbled to himself for a few long moments. "Right, sorry. I was thinking. So, I could fix it up as you had it before. Actually, better if I can work out any other flaws that might be present in the metal. As for making it survive better in the cold, I cannot think of anything at the moment. Well, that is cold steel or cold iron. The metal is already cold almost all the time, it might help some. If we did that..." He was silent this time, as he tried to figure out a good price for the material. For the amount of work he would have to put in and subtracting from the usual price since the metal would not need to be purchased only repaired, or if they went with the infusing the metal with cold iron or steel. "Thirteen gold Mizas. It is probably a better deal than you will find elsewhere." Terag smiled some, hoping Alexander would take him up on the price. The experience would be worth it. He had yet to do something like that, but it shouldn't be too hard for him.

[Alexander Faircroft]

Description "Alex Common" Alex thoughts "Myrian" "Fratava" "Others"

A bit thicker? Alex felt like he’d been striking a tree. Though it was As much as he hated to admit it he couldn’t say that his hands were in pain so he’d just mask the thoughts beneath force of will. Though a good bit of news rang in Alex’s ears. He could fix it, and make it better than before? But “cold Iron”? Would that help the blade survive in sub-freezing temperatures?
“Alright that sounds like it could work. Would it require an entirely new blade or could you use the steel that’s already there with the cold iron?” Alex took both pieces of the sword in one hand and heard the price. Getting the blade re-forged for that much? He paused a moment thinking over the pricing, then remembered how much a cold iron blade was when brand new. “Alright that sounds fair. And if it would be Ok with you could I perhaps watch as the process goes on?”

Alex would then hand Terag the two halves of the sword, which were exceptionally well kept and ludicrously sharp like Alex spent a full five chimes every day working on its edge with a whetstone. Alex would follow behind Terag with him towards the Ironworks, which thankfully weren’t that far away from the Fighting pits. Perhaps Terag had stopped off here before heading to work for a spot of training? Or perhaps he was on break. Both things Alex hadn’t taken the time to wonder over and ponder on. But then again he’d been in a particularly foul mood this morning which the spar and the pain in his hands were helping snap him out of.

It never helped to be angry, but it helped to vent it safely. As doing so often prevented making simple, stupid mistakes.

[Terag]

"I can use the metal from your sword blade as a base, it should not be too hard. I only worry about where the blade snapped, so it may be better to melt the whole metal down and work it into a new bar or something. I could also weld it to fix it. It also depends on how you want the cold iron put in. I could mix it into the metal for you, or have it only along the edge. Lots of design choices, yes? Makes for a unique blade, it is a good thing." As Terag spoke he took the halves of the sword into his left hand for safety and hefted his warfork in his right hand as he began to head towards the Ironworks. "You are free to join me, company is never a bad thing. I do not think the other smiths will mind if you promise to not be destructive. Also, if I give you a command you follow it. I may not know enough about fighting but I know enough about a forge to keep you safe, yes?" Terag kept a steady pace, not too fast not too slow. He was still tired from the fight, but he could already feel his strength beginning to return. The tough training many Isur went through during their childhood made sure they could at least keep moving when things needed to get done. Anything less than all of their effort was distasteful after all. He wondered briefly if he would have the strength to reforge a blade, but dismissed it. He would regardless, even if he had to force it. "Hopefully you are feeling better, yes? You did not seem to be in the best of moods at first. Maybe you need to make something new, I find that helps calm me. Or maybe a good stiff drink, do not bring it to the Ironworks but perhaps on your way home tonight."

[Alexander Faircroft]

Description "Alex Common" Alex thoughts "Myrian" "Fratava" "Others"

“If you have to melt the blade down to fix it, then it would be better to infuse the cold iron throughout the blade wouldn’t it? If it makes the steel able to survive better in cold climates then having it mixed thoroughly thorough out the steel would be the best tactical choice?” Alex was simply parsing the possible options, if the cold iron was mixed thoroughly into the steel then it in theory should strengthen the steel by proxy. However he could just have the very centre made from the cold iron and have the edge still be steel but that would mean a brittle edge. The same problem would arise from the opposite, a brittle core which could even be worse. “Yeah mixing the steel with the cold iron seems like the most logical choice.”

Alex stepped behind Terag as he led the way nodding slowly at what Terag said. However when it came to his mood Alex couldn’t hold his words back.
“It wasn’t as much a bad mood as a ritual release of anger. Going into battle angry does nothing except set one up to make mistakes. Little oversights that can add up to death. So once every ten or so days I vent all the excess anger I feel on a dummy. Just go to town, minimal form, or technique just raw unfiltered aggression. Keeps me calm at all other times.” Alex smiled lightly feeling much better than he had in the morning. “I may stop by the rearing stallion after patrol tonight. As you’re right a drink may do me good.” Alex rolled his shoulders beneath the steel feeling the stiffness of his joints. And the pain in his left shoulder. Perhaps taking that many impacts directly on his shield wasn’t a good idea. He’d have to try and use the large slab of steel to parry attacks in the future.

[Terag]

Terag thought for a long moment, he was sure there was something smaller somewhere in the Ironworks for smaller projects that needed metalworking. Melting down an old blade and mixing in cold iron would not be something they had done on a large scale, but definitely something possible on the small scale or the personalized weapons. "We should have the tools to be able to melt down your blade and work in the cold iron. I cannot guarantee the results though or how it might change the blade, as you can imagine it is not a common procedure. However, I see no reason that it will not form an ingot for me to work at the very least." Terag chuckled a bit as Alexander finished talking, noting he would stop by the Rearing Stallion for a drink. "Good good, and venting anger is a good thing. My people teach our children that at a young age, to find an outlet. Patience is helpful in the first, when planning, for everything. Anger and letting it control is not. I am glad you have your way." It wasn't long until the two of them arrived at The Ironworks. Terag waved his warfork at one of the fellow smiths as he came in. "Give me a moment, yes? I must get my apron and set my weapon aside. I will be back with tools and we will go back to work on your weapon. For now feel free to look around." Terag set the ruined blade on the counter and walked off. He ended up setting his weapon down by the anvil he usually worked at and grabbed his apron from the table. Not too much longer he would be back, tools in his apron and with a livelier step. He took the remains of the blade, and motioned for Alexander to follow. After a few short moments they would be at a much smaller metalworking station, especially compared to the massive ones that took in large amounts of iron and produced more than enough bars for every project needed throughout the city. Terag took a seat at a small table, which had a second chair at the other side. As he began to work at the handle of the blade, removing the end piece and the wooden handle and any other extra pieces he began to speak agian, "Alexander, yes? Your sword, does it have a name?"

[Alexander Faircroft]

Description "Alex Common" Alex thoughts "Myrian" "Fratava" "Others"

The short walk into the ironworks was one he was familiar with, the strong smell of hammered iron and steel filling his nostrils and the sheer heat. Good Gods the heat. It hit Alex like a slap across the face knocking the shill from him like a hammer to the stomach. A familiar and rather painful feeling. If he couldn’t managed to do the Cold iron infusion that would be fine the blade clearly needed a re-forge anyway, if it was that likely to crack under a heavy swing. Alex noted Terag’s statement. However the comment about anger he couldn’t tell quite fully if it was a slight or an honest truth.

He needed to grab his apron? Oh working attire. Alex nodded slowly and let Terag wander off hearing the soft clink of the steel on the counter top. Still Alex had an eye for blades. The sheer menagerie of them coating his body spoke miles about it. Listening to Terag start to work in the distance Alex’s eyes flittered over the many blades on display. One caught his eye as usual whenever he walked in. A second dagger to add to his arsenal. However as he drew the blade from its sheath the blade was a darker colour than steel, and gave off a slight chill. Was this the cold iron that Terag was talking about? Slipping the dagger back into its sheath he turned to hear Terag calling out to him. Did his sword have a name?

Was it natural to name the sword you wielded? Alex paused a moment looking at his sword.
“Not that I can recall. I haven’t named the blade nor did the smith I first acquired the blade from. So perhaps you’d gift it a name upon the finished re-forging?” A small smile on Alex’s face as he spoke, the thought of having a name for his sword felt a little awkward but it gave it more meaning somehow. A touch of personality, a feeling of uniqueness. Something he thoroughly enjoyed thinking.

[Terag]

Terag thought for a long moment, could he name it? He was the one making it, for sure. Although, he had never done so before. That was usually a task left for the greats, the legends of smiths. Those who had earned that right by being able to create works that would echo through the ages. Did he have the right? He shrugged some to the question for now. "I will give it some thought, I do not think it is my place to name it. But, I can give you a suggestion at the very least when we are done." Once the remains of the blade was successfully extracted Terag would reach into his apron to pull out a pad of paper and a pencil. For a long moment he would study the blade before taking longer to roughly outline the design of the blade. The drawing was rough and poorly made, but it would do enough to remind Terag of the correct shape. Along side the picture he made notes about estimated lengths and weight ratios for the blade. Once he was finished drawing he spoke again as he scooped up the parts of the blade that would be melted down. "Names are reserved for blades that are unique usually, or ones that the wielder has done great deeds with. Of course, there are also blades that receive names just because, though you rarely hear about those." He held the sharpened ends of the blade in his left hand to avoid hurting himself, and with his free right hand he would motion for Alexander to follow yet again before using his free hand to put the remnants of the hilt and everything else left over into his apron pockets as well. They would wander back to the forge that he would normally work, where it was louder again. Along the way Terag would pick up a small amount of Cold Iron as well as a small bucket, which contained the course sand, the flux, he would be using to hold the metals together. Once everything was gathered Terag would pull up a seat for Alexander to use as he got everything ready. The metals and sword blade remnants were placed onto the anvil, as was a triangular piece of metal set into the hardy hole. This would be used to help fold the metal later. Briefly he would wander over to the forge, taking a poker to quickly move some things around inside the forge, and then move around to another side at which point Alexander could not see him anymore. For a little while this went on as Terag made sure that the forge was set up to create a very hot center with very little oxygen within. While he waited for the forge to finish heating up Terag would move to his tool rack and set the random assortment of objects within his apron onto the small table beside it. From the rack he grabbed a wire brush before coming back to the anvil and begun to clean the edges of the sword where the metal would be joined again to make one whole pieces. After that the iron would be bound together with the cold iron and folded over and over, but that step came later. As he cleaned, he talked again. "I hope the process is not too boring, no? I know for many they find this to not be exciting. What do you think of it though, Alexander? If you have the time there is always work to be done around The Ironworks if you wish?" The offer to work was said in a joking tone, he tried to make sure the other knew he was joking. However, he was definitely curious as to what the man thought of the place and the work around. Ledger : -1GM, One Pound of Cold Iron