Solo An Axe for Choppin'

[Terag]

46th of Fall, 515 AV – Just after the seventh bell A burly man made his way into the store, in human years he must have been in his late thirties. He seemed cleanly dressed and perfectly healthy, except for the squinting eyes and the obvious dislike of being here in The Ironworks as he winced at the first couple of hammer blows echoing from the back. In his left hand he held a small bag. He made his way to the counter, where Terag was patiently waiting for him. He recognized that face and the wincing, it was the same kind he had made before. Though his involved silver wine and modified table. “How can I help you today?” Terag asked, trying to keep his voice lower. He didn’t want to upset the hungover man any more than necessary. “Is it always so loud in here?” the man asked grumpily, before waving a hand for Terag to ignore the comment and then continuing on. “I need a new axe. My last one broke last night, and I think it might be a bit beyond repair.” The man set the bag he had been carrying on the counter, and Terag took the time to open it up and look inside. Inside was a battle axe, the blade completely broken in two and the wooden handle broken in two more pieces. Terag looked up at the man questioningly, nonverbally asking the question the man knew he would ask. “Look, I got a bit drunk last night with me and some friends. They bet that I couldn’t break a rock with the axe, and I thought I could ya see. So I tried, and well. The rock won. I tossed the damned thing and wouldn’t you know it but a cart made its way by and snapped the handle too. I don’t need you yammering on about how I should take better care of my stuff. Just make the axe for me, okay?” After a pause the man added, “Please?” Terag chuckled and nodded. “Yes, I can do that for you. Six golden Mizas and you can return tomorrow to pick one up.” The man nodded and pulled some coins out of his pocket and set them atop the counter. It took Terag a moment to add up the silvers and coppers with the four golden Mizas, but it all came out to 6 golden mizas, if he pushed the extra copper back to the man. Which he did, and the man pocketed it. “Okay. So I can come pick it up tomorrow, right?” Terag nodded. “I suggest in the afternoon, just to be sure that it is done by the time you get back.” He smiled some as the burly man nodded and turned to head out of The Ironworks again, leaving his bag on the counter. “Make it like the old one, yeah?” Terag nodded, picking up the bag and walking to the back to grab some steel to make into a weapon ready for use. As he walked he looked once more at the shattered remains of the weapon inside the bag, making a replica couldn’t be that hard.

[Terag]

Terag left what remained of the shaft of the weapon with another, more experienced, smith. One who Terag knew was much better with this process than he was. The man simply nodded and told Terag it would be done before the day was out and he’d come find the Isur. Terag nodded, and smiled, and made his way to the forge. Once there he tossed the ingot into the furnace, set the remnants of the metal axe head onto the small table beside his tool rack, and began to get ready to work. First, as always, was the apron. Followed by grabbing the hammer and tongs and setting them in their respective pouches while he waited for the metal to begin heating. As he waited for the metal to heat he tried to put the pieces of the axe head together, so he would know what it looked like. There were a few parts that Terag couldn’t make, such as the etching in the work. He wouldn’t be able to do the complicated parts, but the simple border lines he might be able to make. It would be a start at least for the customer, and it was already more than he was actually getting paid for. He would have to look elsewhere to have it finished being engraved. He smiled a bit, engraving and etching were things that could be very interesting, and it would definitely be something he planned on practicing much more in the time to come. He shrugged at the thought before reaching into the flames and pulling out the heated metal, setting it on top of the face of the anvil. With the tongs in his right hand and hammer in his left, Terag set to work on the metal. Each hammer blow brought the general shape closer and closer to a rough estimate of the size of the old axe head that he was to base his creation on. Once he had to put his work back in the flames, as he had not been fast enough to work the metal to its final form. However, after a while the metal before him finally took its shape. He had done his best to match the work from before, but the top of the axe head was too flat and the angle of the blade was ever so slightly different. It seemed the man had a custom made waraxe, whereas Terag had made one more in the shape of a general one-fits-all type weapon. He sighed softly before heating up the metal once more only to quench it in water to toughen the metal for actual use. He frowned at his mistake, he was getting better at making weapons but perhaps not good enough yet. At least not good enough to match the type of work that he saw before him. He sighed some and continued on. He borrowed a basic tool from another smith to etch in a pattern into his work, promising to return it before rushing back to his work to start making markings on the side of the axe while he still could. He had done this once before, though he hadn’t had a lot of experience with it otherwise.

[Terag]

He stared a long time at his work, marking out every imperfection that kept it away from the copy it should be. It wasn’t a bad weapon though, it was still decent, but it didn’t meet the customers’ requirements. Even after all this time, he was still making mistakes. The etching was something at least, it had taken him a very long time due to his inexperience and all he had been able to finish was the very outside line for the border. It was straight, but all it was only a line. Any smith worth his weight should be able to work a straight line, right? Despite the unevenness in a few areas it looked decent enough to be sold, and Terag took a few more chimes to use the etching tool and try to even out the marks. The frown that had been forming on his face only deepened as he continued to think on the work in front of him. He sighed softly, staring at his work wasn’t going to change it. So, he might as well make do with what he could. He picked up the axe and make his way to the grinding stone where he had sharpened countless blades at this point, and sat down in his usual place. He felt his uneasiness slowly begin to fade away as he set his foot and began to pedal, the large stone slowly beginning to move and the speed up until it was where Terag needed it to be. He placed his fingers of his right hand on the flat part of the axe, and used his left hand and its index and thumb to hold the axe as he pressed the first edge against the stone. Beneath his fingers he felt the familiar grab of the rough and wet stone against the uneven edge of the weapon. Slowly but surely the feeling of uneven metal catching turned to a smooth edge almost gliding across the stone. At that moment he flipped the axe, working on the other side of the edge. And like this he made his way through the edge, working it all down to uniformity. There was a practice in his motions, a muscle memory gained from doing this from such a young age. Sharpening the edge of the weapon was almost as important as making it when it came to any sort of blade or axe. Weapons like those without an edge were incomplete, they weren’t whole. They could be nearly useless when they were needed, and could cause the wielder. It was Terag’s job to help that man or woman, to try his best to keep them alive and kicking. Even if it was their job to upkeep their weapons, he couldn’t help but feel partially responsible for each customer he made a weapon for. It was a feeling he had to get rid of, not all of his customers were going to survive in their lives, and it wasn’t usually going to be the fault of the smith who made the weapon. But it could, and having something like that terrified Terag. The only way to stop that nagging feeling for now was to work his hardest on every weapon that came into his care.

[Terag]

Terag blew along the edge edge of the axe in an attempt to remove the excess bits of stray metal that had managed to hold on. When that failed, Terag ran his black hand along the metal edge, the metal wasn’t warm enough to work with his hand but he was able to pick off the stray bits of metal with ease and hopefully smooth down any imperfections he might have caused to his work in the process. Once he was satisfied with that, he moved towards the counter of The Ironworks and picks up the roughest sandpaper and began his usual work of shining the metal and working out the soot and such that had gotten on the metal during the working process. Though, as he worked, Terag noticed something interesting. Even as the metal began to slightly become cleaner as he worked, the insides of his markings stayed just as they had been. They weren’t really dirty, as he had made the marks after working the metal, but it did mean the remaining unevenness inside his mediocre attempt were not fixing themselves as he went. This was unfortunately an issue, as his mistakes could still be seen within the markings. He frowned but continued on with his work, working through finer and finer sandpaper until he was at the last grain of sandpaper. Instead of continuing to shine the flat end of the axe he had an idea, and folded the sandpaper in half with the rough side on the outside of the fold. Using the edge of the folded paper he pressed it into the marks and slowly worked it up and down the lines. It seemed to work, albeit a bit slower than when he used the sandpaper on the flat end of the axe. It was likely due to inexperience than anything, and so slowly and painstakingly he made his away along the lines he had made, trying to even out their depth and give them a finished look. When he finished the axe head was glinting lightly in the light coming ever time the door opened. It wasn’t perfect, nothing he worked on was. Not yet anyways. There were a few inconsistencies from the original that Terag had missed, and he was so bad at making the marks in the axe that all he was able to do was the very outside line, the start of the frame for whatever work on the inside that the man wanted. It was above what he was paid to do here, so he sure hoped the man liked it. IF not he might be in some serious trouble for doing more than what was asked of him. That was the issue when you worked in profession where your worth was dependent on the customer’s opinions and views of you, that sometimes doing more than you were told to do could land you in deep trouble. However, panic didn’t begin to set in for Terag. He was too confident in himself and his craft.

[Terag]

Finally he brought the weapon head back to the smith he had asked earlier to work on the weapon shaft. Handing it off, Terag watched as the experienced smith slid the carved wood into the opening in the axe head and then briefly heat the metal so he could hammer the opening a bit more closed, having the axe head hold onto the wood stronger and then slide a pin through for more sturdiness. With a satisfied grunt the smith handed the weapon back to Terag. This was one of the more enjoyable things about working in this profession, words weren’t always needed. Your work spoke for you, and that was enough. While Terag waited for the customer to come back in, he set the finished axe under the counter where it would be safe and picked up a dulled sword. It was a gladius, and had no distinguishing characteristics except for the fact that it had yet to be sharpened. He sat back down at the grindstone, and with the weapon’s handle in his right hand and his left hand on the blade, Terag set to work sharpening the weapon. He had only worked about halfway down the weapon when the customer walked in. At that moment Terag promptly stood up, wiped the gladius on his apron before setting the blade under the counter beside the axe and addressed the customer. “Hello sir, welcome back.” Terag tried his best to smile and be friendly. He was getting better at it now that he had been in Syliras for almost an entire year, though making himself seem friendly enough to humans and the other races still seemed a bit hard. Isurians were so much more frank about things, when it came down to business things were quick and efficient. Even the language was like that, shrot and to the point. It was something that had never occurred to him while he had been home, but being amongst others for a year had opened his eyes. “Yes, I’m here to pick up my axe. Look I aint expecting perfection, but I do hope you tried, yeah? Aint much point me paying you if you can’t follow what I asked right?” Terag understand what the man meant, and why he seemed a bit rude. When something personal like this, and the weapon must have with the wear he had seen on the handle it must have been used quite a bit, it was always hard to get something new. The man seemed to at least understand his new weapon might not hold up to his old one. Terag pulled the weapon out from under the counter, and for a long time the man looked at the axe. “It definitely aint the same, the way it feels is a bit different.” He man almost seemed angry for a moment before he continued, “But it’ll do. I’ll get someone to engrave something special in here. Thank you.” And for the first time since he had seen the man, Terag watched him smile. With that he turned and left, as he had already paid for his weapon. It’ll do, Terag thought. This time his overzealousness for his work didn’t get him in trouble, maybe it would hold up but eventually it would come back hurt him.

[Dove Brown]

Don't forget to edit/delete your grade request. If you have any questions, comments or concerns regarding your grade, please do not hesitate to send me a PM.

 

Terag

Skills

• Observation 2
• Socialisation 2
• Mathematics 1
• Organisation 1
• Weaponsmithing 3
• Blacksmithing 2
• Engraving 2

Lores

• The signs of a hangover
• Shaping an axe head
• Engraving a simple design
• A weapon without an edge is incomplete
• Flat sandpaper ignores engravings
• Sanding an engraved line
• Doing more than asked can both cause and cure trouble

Comments:Enjoy your grades