40, Fall of 515 AV
Baelin rolled his shoulders, trying to ease the knot of tension in them as he stared down at the anvil and the collection of wood and tools around it. He wondered again why Ros had given him this assignment. The Eiyon preferred to not ask questions, and when tasked with building a base for a new anvil he had simply nodded his head and accepted. But now that it was actually time to do it he couldn’t help but wonder why.
Chunks of wood lay sprawled in the corner of the Ironworks that Ros had set him up in. Ros had given him a broad axe to cut the wood to size, several chisels of different sizes and shapes, an auger to drill in holes, two mallets surrounded by a pile of wooden pegs, and a few hammers next to a pile of nails.
Which would all be great if he knew anything about carpentry. He wished he had sat in whenever his aunt was teaching his cousin woodworking. Then maybe he wouldn’t feel so out of place right now. He truly did loath not being able to get a job done.
The broad man felt a hand clamp down on his shoulder. Baelin instinctively jerked at the touch and twisted around in time to see his superior’s eyes flash with the hint of amusement.
The amusement at his expense was gone as quickly as it had come and Fredrick’s expression was back to business. “You ready?” The older man’s smirk was part friendly and part challenging.
Baelin had grown to like the more senior armorer’s sense of humor. He still instinctively bristled at Fredrick’s sometimes abrasive personality, his gut telling him he was being teased and should retaliate, but the impulse always faded now as they two slipped into a professional familiarity.
The half-Dhani shot an apprehensive glance at the pile of woodworking tools and pressed his lips grimly together in wordless response. Fredrick barked a laugh. “No worries, lad. Ros hired some laborer to assist, you won’t be going it alone.”
That did indeed make Baelin feel a little better. He felt the slightest amount of that tension in his shoulders ease. Yet the rest of the strain remained as an uncomfortable reminder that he was out of his depth. His superior snorted at the sight of Baelin’s grimace.
“It’ll be fine,” Fredrick assured him again. Baelin nodded tightly, accepting what Fredrick was telling him but not quite believing him. Fredrick huffed, shook his head, and then left the half-Dhani to his own thoughts.
Baelin sucked in a deep breath, held it for a few moments, and then let it hiss through his teeth. Nothing to do but start, he thought uneasily. He didn’t know when the rumored help would arrive and Baelin couldn’t help but feel that standing around doing nothing would be stealing his pay from Ros.
Bending down, Baelin picked up one of the logs. He supposed he would have to shape it. The armorer stared down at the pile of tools and felt panic bubble in him. He had no idea what he was doing.
Baelin rolled his shoulders, trying to ease the knot of tension in them as he stared down at the anvil and the collection of wood and tools around it. He wondered again why Ros had given him this assignment. The Eiyon preferred to not ask questions, and when tasked with building a base for a new anvil he had simply nodded his head and accepted. But now that it was actually time to do it he couldn’t help but wonder why.
Chunks of wood lay sprawled in the corner of the Ironworks that Ros had set him up in. Ros had given him a broad axe to cut the wood to size, several chisels of different sizes and shapes, an auger to drill in holes, two mallets surrounded by a pile of wooden pegs, and a few hammers next to a pile of nails.
Which would all be great if he knew anything about carpentry. He wished he had sat in whenever his aunt was teaching his cousin woodworking. Then maybe he wouldn’t feel so out of place right now. He truly did loath not being able to get a job done.
The broad man felt a hand clamp down on his shoulder. Baelin instinctively jerked at the touch and twisted around in time to see his superior’s eyes flash with the hint of amusement.
The amusement at his expense was gone as quickly as it had come and Fredrick’s expression was back to business. “You ready?” The older man’s smirk was part friendly and part challenging.
Baelin had grown to like the more senior armorer’s sense of humor. He still instinctively bristled at Fredrick’s sometimes abrasive personality, his gut telling him he was being teased and should retaliate, but the impulse always faded now as they two slipped into a professional familiarity.
The half-Dhani shot an apprehensive glance at the pile of woodworking tools and pressed his lips grimly together in wordless response. Fredrick barked a laugh. “No worries, lad. Ros hired some laborer to assist, you won’t be going it alone.”
That did indeed make Baelin feel a little better. He felt the slightest amount of that tension in his shoulders ease. Yet the rest of the strain remained as an uncomfortable reminder that he was out of his depth. His superior snorted at the sight of Baelin’s grimace.
“It’ll be fine,” Fredrick assured him again. Baelin nodded tightly, accepting what Fredrick was telling him but not quite believing him. Fredrick huffed, shook his head, and then left the half-Dhani to his own thoughts.
Baelin sucked in a deep breath, held it for a few moments, and then let it hiss through his teeth. Nothing to do but start, he thought uneasily. He didn’t know when the rumored help would arrive and Baelin couldn’t help but feel that standing around doing nothing would be stealing his pay from Ros.
Bending down, Baelin picked up one of the logs. He supposed he would have to shape it. The armorer stared down at the pile of tools and felt panic bubble in him. He had no idea what he was doing.
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