[Swords and Plowshares] Way Back Home [Jerzy]

[Vanos Strongarm]

Summer 69, 511 AV. The breakfast that was served for Vanos was food he had never really seen before, but it was all too familiar as he devoured it like a monster... A monster with appropriate table manners. Vanos hadn’t eaten that much on the journey from his home clan to Denval, the most filling meal he had was one that didn’t last long in his stomach on his way to the city on the boat. Therefore Vanos was thankful for the meal that was prepared for him by the owners of The Stranger’s Welcome, who were just as the title of their establishment said they would be. He found a warm, clean bed to sleep in after his trip on the boat and was now well rested and fed and ready to seek out someone named Jerzy – someone that was a boxing partner of the man that Vanos heard many stories from his first evening in Denval. Vanos had never attempted boxing before, much less heard of it, but revelled at the idea of trying something new with Oleg. Though he wasn’t exactly sure what sort of game it was, as humans in general looked a little frail. Vanos entered the building he was guided to without getting lost in the colourful and new city, pushing the door open easily and walking inside. He didn’t see anyone right away as he shifted uncomfortably in his shirt. He could have easily went shirtless back home with his clan, but with other races around him Vanos didn’t want to draw anymore unnecessary attention than required, at least until he got to know the locals. The thin material of the cloth clung to his body’s mass awkwardly and looked more like an afterthought than a shirt that was made specifically for the broad and thick frame of an Isurian. The sound of someone pounding on the forge drew his attention away from the uncomfortable shirt he wore and Vanos walked a little ways to the side and saw an outdoor portion that held the forge and, hopefully the owner of the place that could possibly give Vanos a part time job. While his primary concern was with the construction and planning of the “super highway”, Vanos would need guaranteed income if he was going to remain in Denval without staying in a temporary inn the entire duration of this excursion. “Hello,” Vanos said awkwardly, his Isurian accent making the simple Common word sound not so common. He frowned, the ridge over his eyes exaggerating his look of annoyance to himself as he looked down to the ground by the forge for a moment before looking back to the man that turned over to Vanos. “I’m Vanos Strongarm,” He said with a smile, his voice deep and his emphasis on certain letters odd but still comprehendible. “Oleg said to talk to you about job. I’m here to help vit construction of highway, but also need job. I’m good vit, uh, that,” Vanos said as he let out a grunt while his left, green-hued arm gestured to the forge, his mind having forgotten the Common word for blacksmith and instead muttering it to himself in Isurian. “Sorry, not very good Common.”

[Tabarnac]

The broad, muscular back of the master smith was slick with sweat and smudged with soot from the forge. When he turned around, the only thing he wore over his bare chest was a leather apron, heavy gloves, and a curious half-smile. Jerzy was well-traveled as many of the newer generations of Denvali, and the familiar accent caused a great, nostalgic joy in him. But not wanting to stop in the middle of a job, risking mismanagement of the metal in flux, he nodded to the side, inviting the Isur closer. "Welcome to my forge, Master Strongarm," he greeted in none too terrible Isur. Dirty blond hair was sweat-dark and slick down his brow, the which he wiped aside with the back of his wrist. "You will forgive me if I keep working as we speak. I don't wish the blade to go brittle." He noted the peculiar Coglias green to the man's arm and wondered what course of events made a smith of him rather than a warrior like his clan, but he knew better than to place too much weight on nature versus nurture. Sometimes a man had a path that diverged from the one others thought he ought to follow. After a series of strikes of hammer to hot metal, he paused, glanced at his guest, and then perused his work. Just a few more passes at it and he could cool it and set it aside for the time being. The man who was after a new blade knew better than to hang around in hopes of hurrying Jerzy along. "I already have an apprentice. Isur. Lazy," he confided quietly. "Are you an apprentice or do you merely seek a forge at which to work?" With that, he hefted his hammer and went back to shaping the metal by brute force and expert skill.

[Vanos Strongarm]

Vanos smiled at the Isurian that the man spoke; while it wasn't perfect, it was far better than his attempts at Common. He gave a low chuckle as he stepped closer to the forge and understood the reasons for the hardworking smith to keep his attention on the heated metal and not the Isur that was standing at his side. Vanos watched curiously as he observed the human's technique and his use of tools - while it wasn't as precise as what Vanos was used to when working with the forge, he admired the technique. The man knew what he was doing, his years of experience and training shone through as Vanos watched quietly. The smile remained on his face as he was simply delighted that he could speak Isurian to someone other than his own reflection. He folded his arms over his chest while he caught the side glance to his arm; anyone that had any knowledge of Isur clans would know exactly what colour his arm meant, and most likely be perplexed at the lack of arms in his hands and armour adorning his body. Those same people would, hopefully, also be aware that there were certain Isurian issues that were not meant to be discussed so openly, and Vanos would be one of those men that would remain tight lipped about his clan and why he was smithing and not fighting. The statement of a lazy Isur got a low, gravelly grunt from Vanos' throat. He gave his head a shake as he took a step closer to the warmth of the fire without fear that it would singe or burn his pale flesh. His eyes went up and met those of the blacksmith for a moment before they focused their attention back down to the metal and the hammer in his other hand. "If this person you're talking about is lazy, then they are no Isur, I can assure you." Vanos replied in his mother tongue rapidly as he looked up to Jerzy to see if he was able to decipher the language as it was spoken naturally. "I come here to work and to learn; there are many techniques that I don't know and I hope you can help. Perhaps, in turn, I can teach you some of the things I know." Vanos chuckled softly as he glanced back up to Jerzy from the bright fire of the forge as he smiled up to him. His eyes settled on the bulge of muscle on Jerzy's shoulder and down to his bare, strong arm. "... Though perhaps I may try to teach you with your own tools, instead of showing you how to manipulate the metals with your fingers."

[Tabarnac]

"I would be happy to trade in trade secrets," he averred, still in his imperfect Isur. He paused for a moment to think if he had said that correctly, then shrugged with a bunching of muscles. The moment was gone and would not return. His hammer rang again, a few measured chimes against the metal and the anvil. It was cooling down faster than normal for a summer day. Then he laughed at the Isur's boldness. "Until such time as blessed Izurdin should mark me with his favor, I must have to use my tool. My tools." He frowned, not having had much chance to speak Isur since Landeril was attempting to learn the Denvali dialect of Common. Another series of hammer falls and he held the blade into a bucket of water to cool, setting his hammer carefully aside and setting the blade into a vise before pulling a heavy file from his work apron. "You can stay here if you wish," he said. "Captain Astrid will give you a place of your own for a season without money. Free? For a season to help you get settled. You would have more space and privacy that way. I would just clear out a storage room for you here... but then the free would continue after your first season. Think on it."

[Vanos Strongarm]

The mistakes in Isurian were nothing compared to the way that Vanos managed to mangle the damn letters in Common; the way he was unable to pronounce certain letters while overemphasizing others was frustrating, but thankfully understandable. The word order and conjugation in Isurian must be difficult for someone who speaks Common, as Isurian is a very different language... one that is more "precise" and easy to convey certain details with absolute precision, while Common lacked the appropriate vocabulary. To Vanos, Common was imprecise and sloppy, but that may just be his biased view at the moment and his limited vocabulary. The second time that Jerzy spoke, Vanos raised a brow as he corrected himself to the true intent of his words. But it was too late for Vanos who gave a gruff little chuckle as he brought his hand up to his face to cover his laugh. He found it cute the way that Jerzy was speaking Isurian, and he was speaking it pretty damn good for a human. "Your tools do a very good job at creating already, though I have my doubts as to that mark giving you the ability to play with hot metal the same way I do. But I don't plan on leaving any time soon, so I would be more than happy to lend you my arm and my hand in the heat when its services are required, to save your flesh." Vanos rubbed his fingers along his rough jaw for a moment as he watched the blade steam in the bucket of water. He watched as Jerzy's body effortlessly dipped it in there and moved with such precision and agility for someone that was so, well, large - in every aspect of the word. Vanos didn't discriminate based on size, but he had never seen a human blacksmith before and never gave it a thought as to the fact that humans, too - even with their larger stature, - could operate a hammer and metal much in the same way as he could. "I would appreciate being able to stay here, or in the free place until the end of the season. Where I am now, the hospitality is good but the price is high and there is no steady income to fill my emptying coin purse." Vanos said as he tapped his side and the few coins that were tucked away in the pocket of his pants. "Though I'm not sure how I would feel sleeping in a shed, either. If it is a slight about my size, I assure you I need more than a box that is six feet by six feet with a little window and door..." He said with the subtlest of grins, as he watched to see if Jerzy was capable of understanding the sarcastic tone in another language. Vanos pulled himself back from the fire as the cool summer night licked at his hard flesh and made him shift his shoulders back, uncomfortably. The torture of the shirt was tugged down once more at the bottom as he took a step back to let Jerzy maneuver around now that the blade was cooling in the water. Vanos glanced up to him with a smile as he took up a spot along the wall that didn't inhibit the blacksmith from walking around his own shop. "Is there anything I need to do for the job? I'm sorry but I didn't bring anything with me to show you what I am capable of creating, my luggage was light. If I could show you what I have in my mind, and what I am capable with my hands in the small time before the end of the day I would, but it would take many days upon many weeks for me to show you what I have done, and what I know." Vanos paused for a moment as he gauged Jerzy's reaction again. The human face was very malleable and Vanos was able to discern that his words may not have been translated into the human's native tongue in Jerzy's mind as Vanos had hoped. "I don't mean to sound arrogant in my knowledge, for I have much to learn. But I have learned much, too, in my time with my clan. Please don't think I am trying to usurp your position within this community." The Isurian's face, too, was malleable as he frowned and that ridge above his eyes making it look even more dramatic and 'frowny' than was necessary. Perhaps, Vanos thought, he should stick to speaking Common. At least that way his words were few, and he wouldn't sound like a pompous idiot in front of someone that has been nothing but kind and generous in the few minutes that they had stood around the forge together.

[Tabarnac]

Jerzy might have flushed a bit in embarrassment, but the sweat and soot and ruddy flickering of the forge flame hid that sort of a reaction. His smile was stony, his face expressive but slow to move from one expression to another, thoughtful but inexorable. "As I said, it is up to you. Oleg's a good man, but not above charging newcomers for room without telling them of Astrid's... hm, offer. Deal." He sometimes had to grope for the right word in Isur, the right construction of words to form the precise meaning he desired. From what he understood, the High Arumenic of the Eypharian nobility and intelligentsia was even more complex, but he had no desire to visit the crumbling ruins of an old kingdom. The forge fires were hot enough without setting them up in a desert. "I will be filing this for a while. You may use what you see here to show me your technique if you wish. Anyway, we will learn from each other, but I'm not afraid of you. I welcome competition. It's like tempering a blade, no? Competition will temper the both of us into stronger blades."

[Vanos Strongarm]

Vanos enjoyed the way he smiled, the way the corners of that rough and dirty face tugged up in a little grin that showed he understood his true intention behind potentially misguided words. At the offer at making something for Jerzy at that moment, Vanos shook his head as he looked to the heat of the flame. While not doing this to show off, but more out of habit, Vanos placed his hand over the flame to feel the warmth radiate right past his flesh to the hard bones underneath. If there was any place that he felt at home, it was with hot metal between his finger tips surrounded by the scorching heat of the forge. "You speak Isurian, then I assume you know of my technique. It is sad to admit but I have nothing to show you that you haven't seen already. Folding metal and using it with a hand is something that most blacksmiths have seen at some point in their lives, and you'll be seeing my hand manipulate hard metal every day." Vanos looked up to Jerzy with a smirk. "I don't want to bore you." His larger hand made a fist in the flame as he pulled it out and looked down to examine the small bits of ash that flew into it and marked it just like Jerzy's face was black with the bits of dead heat. "Perhaps show you something else, or you help you with your project. Joint creation of what you're making, yes? Make sword stronger with four strong hands creating it." Vanos looked to the metal between Jerzy's hands and let his eyes linger there for just a moment longer than necessary. If the human's hands were capable of entering the flame unscathed, he would be able to make Isruian steel in his sleep. "I'm still curious about human alternatives. Use of tools interesting. Keeps you away from fully using your potential, but human weapons still deadly."

[Tabarnac]

"I have seen it done," he said, and waxed nostalgic for a moment for those few brief years of travel when he still hoped Sultros might be opened to him for a second apprenticeship, how grateful he would have been. But the Isur did not brook visits from strangers, not frequently at all. One had to be rather special to be allowed within their citadels. He had so wanted to live among those short wonder-workers, sure that a human among the Isur would have caught the notice of Izurdin, and then his own arm might be well on its way to the deeper craft of those with Izentor. Ah, well. He smiled. "I would not mind seeing it again. Let me be jealous for a moment. And this sword is almost done, but I was hoping to see you craft a thing to assess your level of skill. There will be some things you can do more good than me. More better." He stopped, took a breath against the frustration of imperfect communication. "Better. I will send those jobs to you. Better for customers. Better for us, for business. Perhaps soon you will have your own forge, and then we will not be so nice." His smile widened, though; he didn't mind friendly competition, as he had said. But if a rival proved treacherous, that was another matter entirely. "You will learn about tools here," he agreed. "That is all I can teach. All I know."

[Vanos Strongarm]

Was this why humans wanted to try and pinch Vanos' cheeks when he spoke Common to them? The way that he would mess up word order, roll his Rs heavily and pronounce them overly hard, and the way that he would just omit letters completely for Isurian didn't have an equivalent sound? When Vanos heard Jerzy speak in his native tongue and confuse the word order, and the way that his face curled into that look of frustration made Vanos want to reach a hand out and pinch his cheek. Or pat his shoulder, as the situation called for, as one man pinching another man's cheek would just be weird. "Perhaps I create something for you and you alone. What do you require?" Vanos asked as he looked over the man's rippling arm once more. "You don't look like you require any weapon to keep you safe; your hands alone could tear the spine out of a beast without a lick of sweat gracing your brow. Perhaps a fork. Or some tool for creating a weapon..." Vanos was uncertain of what he would want to make for Jerzy, but he would want it to have some purpose and not merely just be something that would sit against the wall and collect dust. "Isurian Steel not something to be a collector's item. It is made to be used. To be abused. It will not break for you," He paused for a moment as his memory went to the broken sword, wrapped in the softest of cloths, back in his room. The broken sword made of the steel that only his and his people's hands could create. Vanos flicked his eyes back up to Jerzy to avoid any sort of suspicion that his thoughts were elsewhere. "Or maybe I will make you a coin bowl. So you can beg on the street once my business buys yours." Vanos said with a hearty, deep laugh as he shook his head at the thought. "Don't worry though, I am sure I could find you a job peeling my grapes and feeding them to me!"

[Tabarnac]

Jerzy might have blustered at how quickly Vanos went from friendly offers to friendly mocking, but if his grasp of the short man's language was apt, it was indeed friendly mocking. As such, he smirked, used the back of his wrist to wipe the sweat from his brow before going back to filing the blade to a razor edge. Perhaps he would shave the Isur's arse with it in a moment. "I could use Isurian tools," he said, reaching out with the file to touch the part of Vanos' arm marked by Holy Izurdin. "A hammer of Izentor. An anvil of Vanos. Thus I could smite you everyday." His smile was grim not from bad feeling, but effort expended upon his work. His eyes remained on the task at hand, an attention to detail that matched an of the short one's race. A quick glance shot in Vanos' direction, wondering if he ever would get about it, show Jerzy what he could do rather than boast about it. The smith felt like he knew a man better after seeing him work, and there was always the degtine after the work was done to loosen tongues and learn a man's secrets.