[Training] A Smith Out of Water

[Rhuryc]

7th Spring, 511AV Iceglaze Hold Rhuryc stared at the note. It was in common, thankfully, and had his name written on the top of it. Only six days since he started and already this smith took lessens from his old master. Absence. The message was simple, really. Make maille rings. A lot of them. Instructions below. That was beyond his ability. Or at least he thought it was. Back in Syliras he had constructed a shirt of chain but he used stray materials idling around. He never made the pieces themselves. Well. No time to learn but the present. Besides, what was he going to do, say no? With a sigh he reached up and ripped the parchment off the door. He scanned scrawling on the lower half, his eyes glancing over the words once, twice, then a third time to digest the information. Wire. He needed wire. What if they did not have wire? Of course they did not have wire, they were the blacksmiths. He had to make wire. Fantastic. At least he could do that. Slipping the note into a pocket the young smith turned about and surveyed the workshop. His workshop. For now anyway. Was there any sheet metal? No. Why would there be. With a grunt he stepped off to work. At least they had ore. Sure. With the fire already roaring he started by placing several of the raw ore pieces in the forge atop the kiln. Enough so to handle. He would let the iron run-off collect so he could press it into useful material, but for now he went about viewing those instructions. It took some time for metal to heat. The note crinkled as he removed it from his pocket and scanned the process. Make wire, coil wire, cut wire. That made sense. Anneal the rings, flatten, polish, punch, then rivet. A brow quirked to the side. That much work for a single damn ring? The idea of it was simple. Thick enough wire, once interlocked, would be strong enough to deflect a blade, but the rivets would be all sorts of a bitch to construct. Rhuryc grumbled and set to his oh-so favorite step. Tool collection From the nearby bench he procured a hammer, a coil rod, tongs, and a chisel, the whole lot of them distributed on his anvil. Right. The ore. Shifting back over Rhuryc grabbed a shovel and removed the useless bits from the ore and replaced what was there with more. With the liquefied metal collected he transported what was there into one of the smithy's molds. A thin, sheet-like hold for the current task. He hated making wire. The next step was simple. Rinse, repeat. He had to wait long enough for the first batch to cool and solidify before he could do much of anything. Thus began the cycle. Put ore on, take left over off, set mold, wait for mold to dry. How exciting. Before boredom set in at it's height Rhuryc found himself with enough sheet to make an entire army of chains. Maybe that was overkill

[Rhuryc]

Armed with hammer and chisel he set the first sheet over the anvil. Making wire was a simple blacksmithing trick. Simple being an obscuration of tricky and tedious. It took a vice to hold the sheet still and the line was marked with a stray block of wood, one held in place ever so vicariously so he could chalk the cutting line. The wire could not be too thick, nor too thin. Either would ruin the coil. Clink. Rhuryc lightly tapped the surface of the sheet. He repeated this process down the entire length until he constructed a suitable embedding point, one he could follow with strong, cutting strikes. The chisel was set against the starting point once more and a swift, precise strike sent it through the sheet. Patience. What a virtue. When the first set of wire was struck apart he let it fall and continued on to the next strand. Once, twice, again and again he marked his line then cut. A full bell passed before he had anything even close to suitable. Between the distractions and replacing ore and molds there was little hope for speed. Several strands into the future produced, what he could assume anyway, was enough to make whatever it was he was making. How specific. The chisel and hammer were discarded in favor of the coiling rod. He suspended it over his anvil and took the first bit of wire, wrapped it about the steel until it was at an end and went followed suit with what he had. By the time he filled the rod he had more wire left than a man could ever dream of. With several, nerve wracking twists Rhuryc spun the wire about, tensing it and ensuring that it would form the required ring shape. That bit was easy enough. Again with the chisel. From the instructions he was told to cut each ring individually, separate it from the spool, then move on. That would only take several bells. [i]Clink! Rhuryc grumbled to himself. He paused to wipe the sweat from his narrowed brow. Focus. He lifted the chisel and shoved a wedge between two of the coiled rings. Lightly, ever so lightly, he hit the exterior of one and watched is snapped from the whole. The singular ring fell and clattered against it's brethren in a bucket he laid out to collect the stragglers. Plunk. What fun. In all his experience Rhuryc thought he would never find something more tedious than making nails. He was proven oh so very wrong. The chisel came down again. Clink. Cut. Plunk. That was his rhythm. A few, light taps through the iron wire, turn the coil, hit the ring, catch it in the bucket. He worked with a competent proficiency, accustom as he was to the tedium of smithing, his mind wondering while he snipped and twisted. Every so often he would hum. His think, vibrant baritone filled the flicker and snap of the forge, and although the tune was something to be desired, it passed the time.

[Rhuryc]

Next came flattening. Or not. when Rhuryc finally finished with the wire - he still had a great deal left, but continuing down that path begged insanity - he removed the note from his pocket once more and glanced over the instructions. He had to close the gap, sure, that was easy. Hit the blasted things with a hammer. First things first. Rhuryc removed some of the spare wire from his supply. He shifted over to the forge and tied one end of the metal over a hanging rung before he started to slip individual rings over the length. He repeated this process once more then lowered the railings so that he could expose the metal to the open flame, allowing for the rings to soften once more. More tedium. Rhuryc watched. His eyes flickered about the crackling fires, waiting and dazing off while the heat sunk in. When they glowed with a soft, red tint, he grabbed a nearby clamp and removed the wiring, carefully setting it away from the forge to allow for the air to cool his project. He moved back and forth between the table and the fire, setting up more lines and taking the multitudinous materials set by set. Some time passed before he was ready to move on. Taking to the anvil again, Rhuryc found one of his favorite hammers and started setting rings down, the head brought down and tapped against the overlap of the cut. The sides forged themselves together. That was not so bad. He did this again and again, removing rings from their cooling and shoving them into their trusty bucket once they were reforged. As he beat them back into place he would set more lines over the fire to be annealed. Most of his job was just that. The back and forth. He worked one project while another simmered, the forge kept in constant motion as if a single idle moment would spoil the whole of the work. Every so often Rhuryc would stop and tend to the fires as well, lamenting, and even cursing aloud, that lack of his own apprentice. Wasn't he good enough to have someone to do the little work by now? Balls. Anneal, flatten, fire. That was it. Although he was hardly counting, hundreds of rings filled the bucket, one sent after another in a continuous, unyielding industry. Between one set of rings and the other he moved on to punching the damn things. Before he could set the rivets he had set the holes. In addition to his hammer he grabbed a pair of tongs from the tool rack and empty the bucket of finished flattening onto a nearby table. He picked up one and held it over the punch on the anvil then hit it lightly with his hammer, knocking a small-slit through the flattened edge of each ring and setting up the groundwork for the rivets. And thus his process continued. He took his time, his arms moving with precision, mind now flipping from one step to the next. Anneal, flatten, punch. After a time he found it easier to just finish each ring at once, taking the individual specimen, closing the gap, then adding the hole before the metal had a chance to harden. This prevented him from having to anneal the rings for a second time. Was that it, then? Hundreds of rings passed through his calloused hands. Clink. Time passed without so much recognition from the smith, the never ending work fading well into the evening.

[Rhuryc]

Riveting. What a simple process. Now in the possession of a myriad of singular, chain links, Rhuryc had shifted the entire pile into a short barrel that now jingled whenever it was shifted. And thus the pattern continued. Shift. Jingle. Clink. He grabbed several of the metallic items and scattered them across his anvil. A box was brought over next and several small rivets removed. This was not so bad. As he went to finish the individual cuffs he brought each one up to his face, eyes focusing in on the shape and form of the ring. He checked for inconsistency. Areas where the flattening had got awry, misshapen sides, anything that might cause a suit of chain to fail. After all, the final designs for these was meant to guard a person's life, it lay upon the crafter to ensure that each, individual chink was strong enough to hold against the mightiest blow. No pressure. Upon discovering any defect he simply cast the link aside. Two piles formed at his feet. Riveted links and discarded links. The latter, unfortunately, was far larger than the former. And that did it. After hours of arduous cutting, Rhuryc had what counted as "a lot of maiile links", what the hell was he supposed to do with it all? He grumbled. The mass of the material was set aside for the time being. There was an order for a set of armor, chain, plate, the whole kit, and he knew so little of armor construction that Rhuryc doubted he would much be able to manage anything more than the shirt. Then again, why not just get to it? With few other tasks, the man allowed for the forge to go untended for a time as he riffled about for the measurements. This part he was familiar with. From the looks of it, his companion smith had already procured the correct dimensions and the requisite shirt. Ah. Rhuryc pulled a chair over and set the rings by his side, laid the cloth over his lap, and found a sewing set nearby. Tedium already rapped against his skull. Connect the links. Placing the rivets one over the other, Rhuryc set the chains one along the next, interlocking them as they came with four links on each side. The pattern was simple. He started in the center of the shirt, laying each set atop the cloth as a guide to the final design.

[Growl]

Appreciation Time! Name: Rhuryc Experience: +3 Blacksmithing Lore: Making Wire, Making Something New, Making Chain-mail Ledger: No changes Additional Notes: A quick work thread, but still very detailed. Good work! I am not too familiar with blacksmithing, so if I made any mistakes with my grading/lores, please feel free to pm me and we can adjust things a bit.