To Break in a Smithy

by **Crylon Stonecraft** on May 29th, 2019, 2:27 am

38 Spring 519

After getting a good nights rest, Crylon was somewhat recuperated from the days of frenetic action as the smithy was built. The forge at its heart, the building around it, such a construction was a rather serious thing for an Isur. A sign of worship to Izurdin, akin to some other deities worship in building a temple. Izurdin, being the god of industry, could not be better represented than by a forge. A place where such building and work and industry would take place.

It was then, Crylon reminded himself, doubly a form of worship in that the act of building it was for Izurdin, while the building itself would then be used to further that end.

Rising that morning early in the day, Crylon had headed over to the market once more to buy some materials. He had built the smithy, but it still had to be broken in. And how better to do so, to be the first to use the forge, than Crylon the Isur who had built it?

Iron was what he needed. Something simple to work with, that he was familiar with working and could use to make something simple. A few pounds of the metal should be enough.

Checking from one stand to another, it took him a good bell to find one selling reclaimed metal. Much of it looked like someone had yanked out random rusty bits of nails and things from walls before melting it into a hunk, but others looked like they were in decent shape.

Picking out a few pieces of iron in a roughly squared bar shape about a pound each, free of rust or misuse or clear faults, he nodded to the human running the stand. A short man stood behind the stand, for a human but not an Isur, and was perusing the people coming near his stand as much as those people were perusing his wares.

"I'll give em both to you for 3 gold mizas."

Crylon snorted, shaking his head.

Being theatrical in return, Crylon turned over the metal a few times like he was looking for something.

“Oh? Is metal just iron outside, but gold inside? Seem silly to do? Or is you over charge. Think Isur not know metal?”

In truth Crylon did not have an exact frame of reference on the materials price, but he could tell that was a ridiculous one and that the man was trying to cheat him. Playing the mans game Crylon smiled as he responded.

“I give you... 5 silver mizas for both. Seem fair. Is worn, not fresh metal. Need much work to get workable. How long sit out fore now?”

"Five silver, for each. A gold miza for the lot, alright? And not a copper less."

Crylon simply nodded, taking a single gold rimmed miza from his pack and depositing the new purchases within.

With that he headed out of the market, and back to the forge where he would work the metal into something to glory Izurdin.

Purchases :

by **Crylon Stonecraft** on July 4th, 2019, 6:48 pm

Back at his newly made forge, albeit owned and on Kelski's land, Crylon spent a moment just enyoing the sight.

For an Isur, a forge was a place of worship. A place where one convened with Izurdin, his domain, his will. Where one made and created by industry and sweat. The process of building the forge was worship, just as using the forge was. It was like a physical embodiment of his worship which had been made by his own two hands.

A temple, in all but name. A smithy, with a forge, where a blacksmith would work metal. Letting out a sigh, Crylon set down his pack near the forge, and spent a few moments looking and taking in the site.

A dirt floor, stone brick walls, and a roof made of timber. A brick furnace and forge with a chimney going up to and through the roof. Only days ago he had been putting it all together, with some assistants, and now... Now he was to awaken it into use.

First things first Crylon checked his tools, checking the table where they were laid out which had been brought in by someone rather than made by Crylon. Within easy turn and reach was the anvil and forge, so that all could be done from one spot. All of the tools seemed in place, all of the things he would need to work his craft and my means of the most minor aspect of Izurdin, enact a play of creation to turn the piece of iron into an implemtn. Hammers. Tongs. Vices. Bits that fastened onto a hole on the anvil, and other such tools to work the metal. Clamps, chisels, files.

Pulling the piece of iron from his bag, Crylon set it on the anvil, and then turned to the forge. His tools in place, he needed to light it, such was the first step of working a smithy, of using blacksmithing to create something from raw materials.

For a moment Crylon thought of Reimancy, of a show of fire magic that set the forge ablaze in a moment. But alas he had no fire, in truth he had to admit he barely could work earth let alone anything else.

Picking up some unworked raw timber that had been chopped and set aside, Crylon stacked some within the top of the fire pit on the open part of the forge. Then some smaller bits, and then some even smaller, making ever decreasing triangles of wood atop each other.

Then taking some smaller shaved bits which were used for catching the flame Crylon set these atop the others and picked up some flint and steel. A stropping motion that he had learned out in the wilds on the border of Ravok, Crylon pulled the flint against the steel to make sparks. Angling them as they flew to catch the bits of shaved wood fluff alight.

Bending down Crylon breathed into the fire, giving it some air at the proper amount, before moving some bits around with his black left hand which ended his glistening metalic gem arm. Soon with the mixture of air he passed on it and keeping things moving the right way with his hand, the fire spread and caught bigger pieces. And then bigger. And bigger, till there was a decent blaze going.

Crylon paused then to stack some wood within easy reach and to catch his breath before the real work began. But the smithing, that he had to acknowledge had already begun seeing as knowing how to handle a fire was as much a part of smithing as anything else. Height of the flames, temperature, how much air to give it, starting a flame was just one small part of that, the rest a constant battle of small adjustments throughout the entire process of smithing.

WC: 641

by **Crylon Stonecraft** on July 4th, 2019, 7:06 pm

The tools prepared. The wood stacked. The fire burning. Crylon mentally checked tasks off his to do list for the forging, one by one. Now to the meat of the work, working the metal.

Foregoing tongs as was his habit, for how could one forge better than when working and moving things with their hand rather than another inferior tool not forged by Izurdin, Crylon picked up the raw iron with his left hand.

It was a tool just like any other, though admittedly forged by a God, but it was also a part of him. Setting the iron down in the flames Crylon let the heat soak into it and do its work for a time.

Then using both hands Crylon worked the bellows, pumping a few times to push air into the fire that had built enough to handle such a gust. Too small and such a blow would knock the fire out. But at its current size air was just fuel, and fed the fire more. Stirred it up like the hungry beast it was.

The hotter the fire burned the faster the wood burned, but that was simple enough to adjust for so long as fuel was in decent supply. And being in Sunberth, raw wood was not to costly.

He stopped working the bellows then, not wanting to burn the fire too hot for the metal being worked. That could be as bad as not heating it enough, and mean taking extra time to cool down and rework the metal into a usable state.

Then he waited, practicing his breathing while he basked in the heat of the forge. A slow breath in, then another slow breath out. Slow breath in, hold, holding, held, slow breath out.

Judging the metal to be at the proper color, Crylon lifted it out and set the end of the iron that had been heated within the flames across the anvil.

For now it was too fat, a stock block of iron, and needed to be stretched out and elongated before being further worked. Taking up the hammer Crylon paused for a moment, and then holding it in place with his left hand struck the metal with the hammer held in his right. He worked the metal outward, hammering from the middle and downward to the bottom in a smothing motion of sorts. Ting, tang, pop. Ting, tang, pop. A few hits that pushed the metal, a third to smooth it. Then he would pause and get it all in line again, some more strikes along its length to get it to stay uniform as the metal tended to not do by itself.

Ting, tang, pop. Soon the blockish bit of metal on the heated end was stretched outward, much longer than it was to begin with. But also thinner. Crylon spent a few more blows straightening the metal, getting it in line, keeping it from flattening too much, before pausing.

The metal had cooled somewhat, and so he picked it up and set it carefully with the same half in the fire to heat it up to be worked again. Another few chimes and he picked it back up and rested it on the anvil and continued his work of drawing out the metal. Ting, tang, pop!

WC: 549

by **Crylon Stonecraft** on July 4th, 2019, 7:25 pm

Continuing from there Crylon kept drawing out the iron, working it into a long length of iron rather than a short stubby block. Ting, tang, pop. Once the one end was suitably stretched out Crylon picked it up and put it back in the fire, this time heating the other half.

Pausing to pump the bellows twice, working both arms as he did, Crylon spent the next few chimes passing time for the fire to build its heat within the metal. For the metal to heat and turn the proper shade.

While he waited Crylon fed in a few more pieces of wood, moved some more wood closer to the forge, got a rag to wipe the sweat from his brow, and got a pull of water from the waterskin in his pack.

By then, returning to check on the metal, his appraisal was that the metal was properly heated and colored. Lifting it out he set it on the anvil, beginning the same process as he had with the first half, but now on the second. Drawing out and elongating the metal. But also keeping it from getting out of form, lumpy, or otherwise unsuitably shaped.

Ting, tang, tung, pop! The more he worked the iron, that particular bit of metal, the more he felt he was getting a feel for its. Its unique traits, properties, and quirks. No two pieces of similar metal were quite the same, and each required being treated a bit differently.

He was not quite sure why that was. Perhaps differences in the condition of the source, or how it had been handled since being mined and smelted from the ore, though those were things he only vaguely understood as a process due to working metal and not in the specifics.

Slowly but surely the iron was taking on the shape he wanted, which was the first step in his plan for working the metal into a fire poker. A simple one, but one he had made all the same.

Crylon kept on working the metal, stretching it out, for a few chimes. Then he spent a few chimes bringing it back in, making sure it was not too narrow. A fire poker after all needed an appropriate amount of thickness, not just a length of metal to stab at something.

The final product he had in mind had a fancy handle for gripping, and a split end for the poker.

Keeping at his work, Crylon began to build up a sheen of sweat on his skin from his labors. A bit of pull at his chest as he worked his body, but not such that he needed to stop. A gentle ache in his right arm, which unlike his left was not magically enhanced divine limb forged for an Isur, but a much more normal Isur arm. Admittedly, Crylon thought to himself, still superior to a human limb, hardier and thicker of skin, but not so fine as his left. It was still but flesh and blood, and tired and grew sore and could be injured.

Finishing off his work with a few more hammer blows, Crylon picked up the length of iron to inspect it. Turned it over, looked again. With a nod Crylon set the iron in the fire again, once more only setting in the half he wanted to work.

WC: 560

by **Crylon Stonecraft** on July 4th, 2019, 8:33 pm

Focused on the metal in the fire, Crylon let everything else drift away. For an Isur, a proper Isur like Crylon, smithing was a act of reverence, of worship, and of calming. It was something he had been doing since he was a small child, or watching others do.

Still he knew he had much to improve upon his smithing, as with many other skills. But at his age, he was still young for an Isur. He had time to grow and learn and expand as he was in all things.

Checking the metal in the fire, it seemed to have once more changed to the correct color, and so he lifted it up and set it on the anvil.

Turning now, he picked up a new tool he had not used yet. A vice type clamp, and a chisel. The vice clamp set in the whole on the anvil, secured in place with a twist. He then set the metal inside of the vice, and turned a piece on the side to tighten it till it did not slip out. The heated end was outside, the cool end inside. Where he had placed it in the vice it was near the bottom, which meant it was resting on the anvil itself rather than suspended in midair as he would use it later.

Taking the chisel and another hammer, he held it over the tip and began tapping with the chisel. Lightly, not wanting to instantly cut through and bang the chisel on the anvil below. That might harm the tool or the anvil, which he did not want. No, it was a slow and gentle tapping, getting the hot metal to part.

First a tap, tap, tap, of the hammer on the chisel. This slowly forced the metal aside, similar to how a blade parted flesh. A slight crack turned into a slip, and then deepened, and deepened some more. Eventually he had it all the way through the metal, leaving it as two disparate chunks. A cleaved end.

This would form the main line of the poker, and a second offshoot which curved. Or at least, that was his intent. A small point, and a bigger point, all on one tool.

Removing the clamp Crylon took out the metal and set it on the anvil once more. A tap, tap, tang! He wanted to smooth out each piece, but needed to do so one at a time.

First one end, working it slightly into a point, though not as harsh of one as a true blade. But enough that it was jagged at the end and pointed. A tap, tap, tang! Much lighter than before, as he was working with more delicate work than when he was trying to stretch and draw out the metal.

He could see the metal slowly changing into the image he saw in his mind, taking the shape of his intent from the source metal he had acquired. A tap, tap, tang!

He kept at this for a chime or so, carefully hammering one end into a slight edge at the end, until he turned and began on the other.

WC: 527

by **Crylon Stonecraft** on July 4th, 2019, 8:48 pm

One half of the first end done, Crylon turned to the other. A tap, tap, tang. A tap, tap, tang. Each small push of the metal with the hammer molded the metal. Slowly, but surely. Like a sculptor working clay, where Crylon was the sculptor and the clay was the metal.

This end was smaller, and he wanted to curve it. Usinig the end of the anvil, the horn, Crylon held it in place and then lightly hammered it. Tang, bang, tang! Bit by bit, Crylon curved the metal, but only slightly. His image in his mind was of the main line of the poker being solid with a point at the end, with a second smaller curved tip jutting and curving outward and forward to end in a second smaller tip. Not a fork, but a two tined poker which would be able to handle and move maybe a bit more than just a single ended one.

Of course, this was all just practice. Theory in his mind which sought out practice, but still unclear if it would be proved valid. But that did not mean he did not try.

Done bending the metal, Crylon returned the tip to the anvil, lightly hammering it into a more pointed end. Tap, tap, ting! Tap, tap, ting! Slightly, slowly, it formed, moved into the shaped he desired.

Once it was done that left only the back end, which he now set in the fire to heat. His last new thing was something he had also seen before, but not tried before. Twisting the metal, to form a pattern of sorts on the grip.

Heating only he end to be twisted, the handle end, Crylon waited a few chimes and then lifted it out of the flames. Placing the hot end inside of the vice, fastening it so that the end poked out high in the air above the anvil rather than on it like before, Crylon tightened down the vice to hold the metal in place.

Then, using his Isurian arm gripped on the end just above the prongs of the poker, Crylon turned the metal. Because it was hot, the bit that gave in was the end within the vice. Slowly as he turned it, the bit that was hot and was just above the vice bent and twisted. This left an odd ornate pattern.

Loosening the vice Crylon moved the metal over so that a new hot bit would be poking just out of the vice, and then tightening it down he turned it again. Turn, loosen, move, tighten, turn. Over and repeated, inch by inch, as he worked along slowly with the metal. Perhaps there was a better way to do it more quickly, but he was satisfied this time with his current method.

Within a few chimes of this repeated action the end of the poker that would serve as the handle was oddly twisted along its length in a somewhat pleasing manner. Fancy some might say!

Done with his work, Crylon set the metal in a bucket of water to cool. After a long wait for the metal to cool Crylon drew it out. It was rough, unfinished, but it was his! Something he had made within his current abilities.

Then picking up a file, Crylon began working it along the length of the poker. Scritch, scritch, scritch. Up one side, around the ends, the poker parts, each bit in turn. The filing was good for taking off the bits of excess, the burs, and other such imperfections caused by the metal being twisted or otherwise worked.

Within a bell he had filed it properly, and the entire surface was nice and smooth and finished. It was overall a crude piece, and he had no doubt in a few seasons he would well surpass it with a similar attempt. But for now it was a fine work, and a good breaking in of a new smithy.

WC: 660