Summer 501 AV
The Silver Tower, a structure unlike anything else built by the isur in too many centuries to count. The walls, floor, ceiling, the very air one breathed within its halls hummed with a magic more powerful than anything harnessed by the present day isur. It was here that Ialari had spent the last couple of years in study. Her father, Zyleron, an instructor at the Tower specializing in Auristics and Reimancy, overwhelmingly supported Ialari when she mentioned wanting to pursue studies with the Sentinels. Her chosen path at the Tower was Poisons. While not in itself a magical discipline, the study of poisons was a respected art within her family and had been for generations. Ialari's secondary study was that of magecrafting. Perhaps it was the whole idea of creating objects that contain and manipulate djed in ways only limited by the imagination that interested her.
Ialari wasn't a social girl. She found people to be too random, too unpredictable even in their predictability. Then there was the sense of ever present loneliness. Even when she did allow herself to associate with others, she never really felt as though she were a part of anything. She always felt a lack of purpose, a lack of direction, a lack of control. Magecraft offered an opportunity to create something fantastic from the mundane and in that, it offered some amount of control and fulfillment.
This particular day was one where she would move beyond simple observation, assisting and all the other mundane, insignificant duties of a peon and enter the realm of application. As she dressed for the day, she chose a mid-length black skirt, high black boots and silk chest wrap, one of her more favorite, if simple, clothing ensembles, to wear for the day. It was the day she would craft her own tools to be used to craft her own magecraft items. Once dressed, Ialari made sure to grab her journal; a collection of all of her notes, diagrams and musings regarding her studies at the Tower, and made her way down to the Tower's lower levels. The sleek, silver walls, ceiling and floors of the tower never ceased to bring a smile to Ialari's face. The entire tower was the epitome of everything she sought for herself and for her people; beauty, strength, security, knowledge and power. As she walked down the short hallway to the central staircase, she ran her fingers over the smooth surface of the wall. There was an ever present tingle like a mild yet constant jolt of electricity that blanketed the surface and filled her hand and arm with an exhilarating boost. Such was one of the many gifts granted to those who studied at the Tower.
Once she reached the central staircase, she quickly made her way down to the ground level and into the Tower's central chamber. She took a moment to look up at the massive statue of Izurdin, dressed in Isurian Battle Robes, his arms outstretched with crackling energy dancing from one palm to the other. She whispered a morning prayer to the Divine Father before quickly moving to the stairs leading to the lower levels. Her destination was one of the forges that she'd been assigned to. It was there that she would work on forging her own personalized tool that would then be taken to the lab and magecrafted.
As she descended the stairs, she approached the first level of the forges. The sounds of pounding hammers and the clanging of metal began to fill the air. It was a comforting sound as Ialari arrived at the archway that offered entrance into the forge. Inside, she was greeted by the site of a handful of other apprentices working on a variety of creations for use in any number of disciplines. The forge itself contained a large variety of different types of anvils set on stone foundations. There were four large pits filled with fiery coals, one in each corner of the room. Water basins were positioned for convenient use while racks of tools, workbenches, molds and barrels filled with all sizes and shapes of different types of metal rods, bars and blocks lined the walls. The master smith, a middle-aged, Pitrius man by the name of Boldmir Wrenchhammer, watched over the other apprentices. Upon seeing Ialari’s entrance, he approached.
His greeting was short, like Ialari Boldmir had little use for extended pleasantries. "Miss Pythone, nice of you to join us. If I recall, you’re here to forge the basic tools for Magecraft. There’s a workstation over in the corner. There’s plenty of iron, brass and bronze that you can use. Any questions, and they better be good, do ask. If there’s nothing else, get to it.” Ialari gave Boldmir a nod and walked over to her workstation. She sat her journal down on a small table next to her before turning to take stock of what was available to her. Having been exposed to the forge when she was first able to lift a hammer, Ialari was confident enough to at least know how to begin the task before her. For her magecrafting, most of the raw items to be magecrafted into tools were provided however she was required to forge her own primary hammer.
The hammer was simple enough in structure as it consisted of basic shapes. The hard part was the welding of the head to the handle. It was a task that was primarily reserved for those more competent in smithing. Fortunately though, all isur were gifted with the divine blood of Izurdin culminated in their metallic arms. With her arm, she could merge the head and handle together and follow-up with the filing, shaving and smoothing the connection to a better finish. Thus was one of the reasons why the isur were considered the greatest smiths in the world.
