515-SPRING-03
Aedi made his way yet again into the academic confines of the University of Zeltiva. This time, he had a defined goal, and that was the cryptic location uttered by Garath Markwell the day before after dismissing him brusquely upon his failure at the anvil. The entire incident was weird in the first place, which arose from a simple misunderstanding, but somehow the whirlwind of events led him here. He was determined to find his answers.
After getting lost several times due to his unfamiliarity with the campus landmarks, he finally found his way to the room that Markwell described, and entering he could hear the familiar voice droning on.
The door creaked as he cautiously made his way into the room, and the rumbling voice stopped. There was a small collection of people seated with their backs toward him, facing the large giant of a man known as Garath Markwell. The sudden interruption in the lecture, combined with Markwell's pointed stare, caused the classroom to swivel around and look curiously at the Isur.
Aedi sighed and began looking for exit points to run to.
"Being late is a bad precedent, Mister Aghanim," Markwell intoned, "Especially for someone who isn't even my registered student."
Okay, there was completely no need for him to say that, the young student thought desperately as he tried to make himself as unnoticeable as possible, drawing up the chair nearest so that he could sit down and avoid standing.
"Ahem as I was saying," Markwell continued, "the hammer, the anvil and the tongs are the implements that you will spend the most time around. And this is because you will need them to conduct the basic operations that make up the art of smithing. The tools don't make themselves, obviously!"
"The most simple action a blacksmith can take would be punching. Might anyone care to venture what that means?" The giant asked the class.
One of the students, a rough looking adolescent began to snicker, and he raised his hand.
"If one of you gives me a silly ass answer," Markwell began, and the boy quickly withdrew his hand. Evidently the decades of teaching had wizened the blacksmith to the antics of youth.
"Well then. The simplest thing to do is to create a hole in the malleable metal. Theoretically speaking, that should be simple. However, you don't want to punch off the metal and wasting the material. You want to create a hole instead, pushing the metal outwards to widen the hole."
Aedi listened diligently. Though he had received fragmented practical training while back in Sultros, he did not learn such methods in an organized manner the way Markwell taught. Feeling that it would be important to internalize these ideas, he made mental notes as Markwell continued lecturing.
"You can punch without making a hole as well, when you want to make indentations for whatever reason. However, you will have to do so with a chisel, like how a sculptor would do so. Not unless you can handle molten steel with your hands," Markwell finished, pointedly looking at Aedi again.
The young Isur mentally swore.
That git is going to keep bringing attention to me again, isn't he.
Aedi made his way yet again into the academic confines of the University of Zeltiva. This time, he had a defined goal, and that was the cryptic location uttered by Garath Markwell the day before after dismissing him brusquely upon his failure at the anvil. The entire incident was weird in the first place, which arose from a simple misunderstanding, but somehow the whirlwind of events led him here. He was determined to find his answers.
After getting lost several times due to his unfamiliarity with the campus landmarks, he finally found his way to the room that Markwell described, and entering he could hear the familiar voice droning on.
The door creaked as he cautiously made his way into the room, and the rumbling voice stopped. There was a small collection of people seated with their backs toward him, facing the large giant of a man known as Garath Markwell. The sudden interruption in the lecture, combined with Markwell's pointed stare, caused the classroom to swivel around and look curiously at the Isur.
Aedi sighed and began looking for exit points to run to.
"Being late is a bad precedent, Mister Aghanim," Markwell intoned, "Especially for someone who isn't even my registered student."
Okay, there was completely no need for him to say that, the young student thought desperately as he tried to make himself as unnoticeable as possible, drawing up the chair nearest so that he could sit down and avoid standing.
"Ahem as I was saying," Markwell continued, "the hammer, the anvil and the tongs are the implements that you will spend the most time around. And this is because you will need them to conduct the basic operations that make up the art of smithing. The tools don't make themselves, obviously!"
"The most simple action a blacksmith can take would be punching. Might anyone care to venture what that means?" The giant asked the class.
One of the students, a rough looking adolescent began to snicker, and he raised his hand.
"If one of you gives me a silly ass answer," Markwell began, and the boy quickly withdrew his hand. Evidently the decades of teaching had wizened the blacksmith to the antics of youth.
"Well then. The simplest thing to do is to create a hole in the malleable metal. Theoretically speaking, that should be simple. However, you don't want to punch off the metal and wasting the material. You want to create a hole instead, pushing the metal outwards to widen the hole."
Aedi listened diligently. Though he had received fragmented practical training while back in Sultros, he did not learn such methods in an organized manner the way Markwell taught. Feeling that it would be important to internalize these ideas, he made mental notes as Markwell continued lecturing.
"You can punch without making a hole as well, when you want to make indentations for whatever reason. However, you will have to do so with a chisel, like how a sculptor would do so. Not unless you can handle molten steel with your hands," Markwell finished, pointedly looking at Aedi again.
The young Isur mentally swore.
That git is going to keep bringing attention to me again, isn't he.