10 Fall 520 Welding was not something Crylon was overly skilled at. He vaguely understood what it was, how it worked, but beyond seeing others doing it in the past had not been called upon to do it much. He preferred, or he supposed was more commonly called upon, to work a single item into a shape without any connections. That or he was making a single fixed thing, or repairing something that was as such. Not connecting two items, or fixing a break from where one thing was once one but had a crack or gap. Holding up a metal ring, one he believed was for some kind of puller on a... Drawer? Door? Something? He was unsure, as someone had dropped it off to be fixed but had not said what it had been for. Crylon examined the item and considered how to fix it. The first thing he noticed was the splintering where it broke. The jagged bits where metal broke open and left behind an odd toothy surface. He had seen burs from metal not cleaned properly, but this seemed worse. First things first, Crylon nodded to himself, he needed to address the rough ends. To begin with he used a wire brush, something that looked to some degree like a normal brush but that would likely leave someones scalp bleeding if they tried to use it as such. Instead of finer and move forgiving material for the tines this one had tines of metal wire type material, jagged and harsh to flesh but good for cleaning metal and removing burs. Rubbing it over the metal Crylon watched as bits flaked off and burs were worked out. Tiny bits of metal jabbing out that would catch an exposed fleshy hand and stab or cut them when gripped. Particularly bad when on an item was meant to be pulled by a hand... Not rushing or hurrying in any way, instead diligently working to complete his task with exactitude, Crylon worked his way over the head of each end of the item, using his impervious left hand to move and touch and hold things that might harm his right. Scraping here... And then there... Pulling that part back, and then brushing here... And there... And over and back, from one side to the other. By the end he was left with a well buffed material, no more in danger of cutting anyone by touch. Still broken, but safer to work with and clean and flat for that working. Taking up the ring Crylon headed over to the forge, checking its level. He could tell from experience the heat was off, it was - or so he felt - one of his better more refined skills as a smith. Being able to tell temperature by color of the flames. And, he felt, an important one for any proper smith. Knowing the flames. The shape of the heat, the living thing that basked over a material and imparted its hot fury which in turn allowed it to be reshaped.... Crylon smiled at his "colorful" language, thinking of it in such terms, and then chuckling to himself at his pun on several levels. Setting his smile aside and taking on a more neutral demeanor Crylon began working the forge, adding wood and pumping in air to bring up the heat and prepare it for use as he needed. WC: 562 |