by Danyella on March 5th, 2011, 8:44 pm
"Dah, do we have any size three iron bars left?"
"No love, your darling Gensen stopped by to ask for some iron posts and I needed them for the joints. You want some help with these?"
"Thanks Dah, but I need the practice."
"I'll grab a sketch sheet so you can draw out your thoughts."
"No need Dah, i've got them visualized already. Thanks though. Why don't you go to the tavern? I'm sure your friends would be there. Maybe a lady..."
He just grunted and walked out. It saddened Danyella to see that ever since she was born, and her mother died in her birth, that her father distanced himself from his friends, and never noticed women any more. His life revolved around his work, and herself of course. She knew she needed to master her craft to let her father relax and enjoy life.
She began the arduous smithing from scratch process. She first called out, "Hey Dah!" he walked in, "Yes?"
"I'm going to try my first attempt at smelting solo first, would you mind watching?"
Her father broke into a big grin, grabbed a stool, and prepared to watch his daughter-apprentice do her first scratch solo project. She checked the heat of the furnace she had started nearly an hour ago. Satisfied, she grabbed many chunks of iron ore. She sighed at the fact that rocks hadn't been cleaned by whoever mined it. She put the first chunk into a vice, and she grabbed a chisel and the heavy hammer. Her eyes turned a deep emerald, as she began to concentrate. She positioned the chisel in the middle of the rock. She gripped the chisel, raised the hammer, and with a dull klang she struck the chisel driving it about halfway. She struck it once more, and the rock split down the middle. She continued to break down the rock into pea sized chunks. An hour later she had broken down enough rocks for the metal she needed.
She took the smaller chunks and put them into a thick cast iron pot and placed it into the roaring furnace. She had to be very careful now with the heat. Too hot and the cast iron pot would weld with the impure iron, not hot enough and she wouldn't be able to get water and other impurities out of the metal. She watched carefully in the dull glow of the furnace, as the iron chunks slowly glowed red, then orange. She quickly stepped on the foot bellows and increased the tempurature forcing the iron into a yellow state. Not yet competant enough to make steel yet, she continued the iron into it's liquid white state. She could see the impurities floating in the metal and some evaporating off. She grabbed her long handled sieve and began removing the impurities, while the pure iron dripped back into the pot. She did this quickly as this was a dangerous tempurature. When she felt it was pure enough, she placed a heavy cast iron lid on the pot to slow the bothersome process where air began to ruin the metal. She let the furnace air out some to lower the temperature. After letting the iron cool a bit she checked it and saw it had cooled more than she had wanted. It was a glowing orange and she placed it back in the fire.
The iron finally heated to the workable yellow, and she pulled it from the furnace and poured the semi-solid onto the steel anvil. She let it cool a bit, the air forming blackened spots where unseen impurities were located. She quickly began pounding the metal with her hammer, the impurities flaking off. When the impurities were removed, or the ore cooled back to orange, she put would scrub it down with a steel wire brush, put it back in the pot, and bring it back to it's yellow state. She repeated this until she was satisfied that she had removed as many impurities as possible. She did one last scrub down and reheating then placed the yellow mass on the anvil.
She split the clay like mass into four separate chunks. Two large chunks for the blade and hilt, and two small chunks for the hilt. She placed the excess iron into stone pot, and covered it to let it cool. She place the two smaller chunks and one of the larger ones into their own stone bowls and placed them inside the furnace. She grabbed her smaller hammer and tongs and began to work on the hilt. She hammered the mass into a rectangular bar, enjoying the clear rings that accompanied working with steel anvils. She then began drawing it out and thinning it at one end, forcing the other end to thicken. She then began pounding the thickened end so it spread just a bit out either side giving a uniform thickness. The hilt now looked like a capital T but was short in length and the branches were shortened as well. She then put the bottom of the hilt over the hardy hole and locked it into place with a vise. She grabbed a cylindrical chisel and position it near bottom, directly over the hole. In one sudden motion, she struck the chisel punching a near perfect hole in it. The metal circle that she punched out dropped into the scraps bucket below it. She then took the chisel and sliced off some metal on both sides of the stretch between the hole and the cross section. She grabbed the clay cylinder that had Darren's grip imprinted into and began using the smallest chisel and hammer she owned, to form the base of the imprinted grip. She checked all sides of the hilt, satisfied, plunged it into a vat of water to cool it, then into a barrel of very finely ground sand to keep air from ruining it to a minimum.
She checked the bowl with the large mass and was happy to see it glowing yellow. She placed it on the anvil and let it cool a bit. She began pounding it out, lengthening it to about five inches. She made sure she tapered it so one end was thicker and the opposite end was narrowing to a point. She was a bit worried about the thinness, so she pounded and shortened it a bit. It was now thick enough to punch through some plate mails, and pierce through chainmail. She flattened the faces of the blade giving it a diamond shape.
She checked all the faces and edges and was satisfied. She plunged it into water then into the sand.
She now began work on the prongs, which she had put into the design to both increase the center weight of the blade to help it punch through armor and body parts, and also to help off balance the thick weighted hilt, to allow for a nearly perfectly balanced throw. The prongs were fairly simple, she first shaped the metal clumps into thin rectangles. She then worked one end on each into a diamond point, then bent the prongs so when attached to the hilt they would curve out from the hilt, then back in again to the blade. She then worked the rectangle into a shape that would be easily welded to the hilt.
She dunked them into the water and then dried them off with a rag. She grabbed a wire brush and began scouring the surfaces with it. When they shone she grabbed a small whet stone and began sharpening the points of the prongs as well the outside edges. She checked the edges then powdered the prongs in soda ash, to help harden and prevent rust. Setting them off to the side she pulled the blade out from the sand. She grabbed the wirebrush and removed the sand. She polished the blade and began sharpening the edges. She had to make sure the blade tip was sharp but not a perfect point, so to not break when piercing armor. When the sharpening was finished, she repeated the process with the hilt, only without the sharpening. She made sure to polish the fingerhole extra smooth so to allow for quick spin and release. She pulled out the clay mold once more and began polishing and buffing the grip to suit Darren's hand and style.
She checked over all of the pieces and was satisfied, so she took the hilt in a set of tongs and place the edge that would meet to blade in the furnace, and did the same with the blade. As they softened she took a chisel and made a groove into the hilt and inserted the blade into it. She then put the combined unison of metal onto the anvil, and with some light pounding she had fused the blade and hilt. She then place the hilt into the furnace, along with the prong tips. When yellow she fused them together, she plunged the whole blade into the water then the sand. She pulled it out after a while, then began polishing the blade as a whole, checking in great detail the edges and weld joints. Satisfied she carved a T and a K into opposite sides of the blade near the hilt.
She removed her gloves, and picked up the blade. She felt the smoothness of the faces, the sharpness of the edges. She tossed it back and forth between her hands appreciating it's weight, it would punch well through most things. She flipped it over in her hands and knew it was a finally balanced blade and would fly true.
She sighed and began making three more, one identical to this one, and two for his left hand. It was well into the morning when she finished. She wrapped them in cloth and wearily awaited Darren, not caring that she was covered in sweat and soot, smelled like a bull muskox in heat, and couldn't even lift her arms anymore. Still, she waited, her father smiling as he readied his shop for another day of business.