Solo [Kitrean Krafts] Metal Music. (Job thread)

[Cyrene Everwind]

12th Winter 515AV

7:55AM

Description "Cyrene" Thoughts Isur Tukant Others

The sun hung low in the sky ad the day began to crest the horizon. Cyrene had just managed to crawl up from her bed in the inn. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes she smirked staring at the sun and flexing her red right hand. Time to get up and go to work. She smirked slipping her clothing on, she had an idea of what she was requested to do at work today. An order for a set of swords had come in. Several short blades. Nothing taxing and something she was used to making by this point. The stroll to the forge was thankfully given the current seasons events uneventful.

Stepping into work as usual first to arrive and last to leave. She stepped up to her forge pulling the flint and steel from her hip and setting ablaze the kindling. Tossing a couple of charcoals on the kindling she stamped the bellows a few times building a nice heat. Sighing heavily she looked a little down, not one city in the world had had a forge quite like the grand ones in the city of Sultros. Home of her mortal kin and where her former and current primary patron watched over with a keen gaze. The city of the true crafters. Still she wasn’t about to let it get her down. She hauled up the metal she needed Lifting the ores nearby to light the fire in the smelter Tossing the ores into the large smelting cauldron she lit the fire beneath keeping a careful eye on the heat of the smelter. She needed more iron ingots than there were in the shop and odds were that either she or her boss would fill the order. But until then the few ores in the place were enough. A small lacing of coke over the top of the ore to help the impurities bubble to the surface. Turning her eyes away from the iron ore smelting it’s way into steel. She took a deep breath pulling the first iron billet from the fire with tongs smithing in a way similar to the other humans just in case the sun set and she had shifted to her ethaefel form without noticing. The slow methodical hammer blows struck the steel with a melodious and monotonous ring. Steady and rhythmic. Without even realising it a small tune had begun to escape her lips. A few keys off of tune but still there, out in the open for any who wanted to listen.

“Everything looks better when the sun goes down. I had everything. Opportunities for eternity. And used too belong to the night.” A pounding of her hammer followed with each finished line pausing only to set the iron back into the fire. The fire crackled as she headed back over to the now molten iron billowing the bellows carrying the tune in her head. She skimmed of the top layer of the slag with a specially designed tool. Carrying off as much as she could before adding a touch more coke into the mix. And let the iron bubble away and intermingle with the coke. The steel bubbling to fruition now. Pulling the billet free from the steel she continued hammering the now white hot steel again. Carrying on the tune.

“Everything you love will burn up in the fires. Every time I look inside your eyes.” The continuation of the tune faltered as she slid the steel back into the flames once again. Before long she headed back over to the now dull orange glow of the smelter skimming off the last of the slag she took a moment to prep the moulds for the steel ingots. Smearing a thin coating of coke over each of the moulds so the steel wouldn’t fuse to the bronze of the moulds. The iron smelter would have been near impossible for a normal human to move on their own Cyrene simply struggled in handling the sheer size of the thing without searing her flesh. Eventually she figured it’d be easier to simply pour it by twisting the steel of the smelting container. Gripping the heavy bar with both hands she turned the steel to flow into the mould. The white hot liquid metal snaking through the pathways and filling the moulds carefully. Evenly. She smiled and stepped back over to her anvil and furnace puling the billet from the fires again.

[Cyrene Everwind]

Description "Cyrene" Thoughts Isur Tukant Others

The single ring of each stroke of the hammer against the steel was a sound all it’s own. A music of it’s own nature. It’s one key in the melody of metal what was the smithing. Her voice escaped her again as she continued still missing certain keys but then she was alone and would be for another hour or so as such she didn’t mind too much. Striking the steel she continued.

“Trust me, raise my soul. There's a blue moon on the rise. I had everything. Opportunities for eternity. And I used too belong to the night.” Her hammer fell with purpose and power forcing the metal to bend to her will to shape itself according to her whims. But even through her caterwauling she still listened to the sound of the steel the song of the metal as it rang out. An echoing chorus to the din that now filled the forge. Slipping the steel now drawn out enough into the fires once again she turned her attention back to the steel ingots. Sucking air through her teeth and exhaling sharply she picked up a bucket of water that was used for this exact purpose and poured it into the moulds. The water hissed and screamed as it turned to steam infront of her and sucked the heat clean out of the metal. Causing the steel to now float free of it’s moulds. Thick leather gloves over her hands she picked the steel free from the water placing it on the brick work nearby to finish cooling down.

Heading back over to the now drawn metal she took it and began to flatten the layering of the steel, each ring of her hammer spreading the metal thinner and thinner as she smirked watching the flicker of the flames out the corner of her eye. She struck the finishing blow feeling the metal cry out for water. She submerged it in the barrel of water next to her anvil. The water crying out in pain as the fire cackles with laugher, hungry drawing. She freed the steel from the water watching the fire she slipped the still wet steel back into the blaze. Almost instantly the fires burst into a stronger life. Creaking and groaning the steel warped and twisted in the fire slightly. Pulling it free she hammered out the impurities lightly before sucking the heat out of it fast. The water crying out begging to be allowed respite. She smirked slightly puling the blade free and feeding it back to the flame simply to dry the blade off and reheat it slightly before feeding it into a long shallow bath of oil. The moment the blade touched the oil it burst into flames. She left it submerged for a few seconds, before pulling the steel free and smothering the fire again. She left the steel against the anvil as she picked up another of the iron ingots as the doors of the forge pushed in with the rest of the staff beginning to filter in.
“You’re all late as usual.” She gave each of them a stern glare, barring her boss whom was the only one she would even begrudgingly answer too.

[Cyrene Everwind]

Description "Cyrene" Thoughts Isur Tukant Others

Having been their first and having almost finished her first blade of the day. She picked up the blade slipping it back into the fires embrace again not to yellow hot but to red instead picking up a fuller shaper she slotted it into the hople of the anvil and pounded the blade firmly against it, creating a deep fuller into the steel providing a point of structural stability and a flexible core. She quenched the blade again the water burbling with rage instead of pain this time. Pulling the blade free from the waters she took it over to the grinding wheel. Sitting in the stool opposite she placed the edge of the blade to the large wheel and began to pedal lightly turning the wheel at a great pace. Pressing the edge into the stone she watched flaked of sparks fly from the edges. Running the blade along it at a steady pace. With the screeching of the grinding wheel accompanied by the roar of fires and the din of hammers beating metal to shape in different levels of skill. She simply smirked feeling at home for the first time all morning. The first player of steel off and she twisted the blade getting the same level of grind into the other side.

There was as much of an art to grinding the steel down as there was to forging it to shape. She pressed the blade into the wheel the edge biting into her hand a little even through the leather gloves. A sign of just how much of an edge she’d slightly over ground being a little absent minded. Cursing under her breath she flipped the blade grinding the edge into the other side. The sparks flew showing a spray of large flashing sparks and small little sputtering ones. Impurities in the steel. To be expected with the crafts from ones so young still she’d gotten used to working with this material. And longed for the day when she’d be granted a chance to work with and on the steel of the Isur her day forms birth right. Grinding the edge to a finer point she grumbled and headed back to her anvil testing the sharpness on the wood she intended to turn into the handle. Having carved off a large wedge she concluded the blade was sharp.

Pulling a small saving of brass from the edge of her station she began to heat it. Intending to turn the lump of brass into a guard and pommel fastener for the sword. The fires consumed the brass. The near glowing metal emerged from the furnace and Cyrene began to draw the steel out from the simple square block. The whole process took around a half bell to draw the brass into a guard. Though next came the tricky part. Feeding the tang through a slot in the guard. First she had to cut the hole in the guard for the tang to slip through. Using a metal chisel she indented the brass just enough for the blade to sit into it. And then lining the brass up with the hole in the anvil she knocked the chisel through with one mighty swing. Quenching the brass she took a whet stone too it and removed the outlying spray of jagged metal from the cut.

[Cyrene Everwind]

Description "Cyrene" Thoughts Isur Tukant Others

Testing the fit of the tang against the hole and set she’d made in the blade, she smirked. The fit was a little loose but noting to the point of worry or danger. Nodding lightly she glanced around for a lump of steel that wasn’t being used. Seeing a large offcut from someone’s work she lifted it and inspected it. Heavy and around the right size. Slipping the steel into the flames she left it there a solid chime letting the heat of the metal get soft and easy to manipulate. She took the tongs to it pressing the metal with her strength and shaping it into a hexagon. Holding it firmly in place atop the anvil she struck it. Not once by twice each side flattening out the now made pommel for the blades counter balance. The Pommel she slipped back into the fires the sheer heat now coming from the forge as a whole was tremendous, three separate kilns roaring at the same time, and then the large smelter in the corner of the room burning loudly. If someone stepped into this room they’d swear it was summer outside.

Sweat dripped from her chin as she took the hammer in hand again and now began to fashion a design into the pommel using the small chisels for metal engraving in the building. Her design was six simple strokes. A set of four interlocking triangles. Made with six individual hammer strikes on the chisel into the pommel. She’d have to screw thread it…She hated doing that but still it needed to be done. She went through the motions taking the better part of a half bell threading was a delicate process that produced an incredibly tight grip between two bits of steel but could also be undone should a new blade ever be needed or a new pommel for that matter.

Picking up a small piece of oak she lifted the wood in her left hand taking her right red thumb and staring to smooth over the wood a careful process as she had to take great pains to not splinter or split the wood along the grain. Then came the tricky part, hollowing out the centre of the wood to hold the tang. Picking up a specialized chisel she drove the chisel into the wood taking out a small portion of it at a time. A time consuming process as this wasn’t a step she neither liked nor enjoyed. There was a faster way to just thicken the metal around the handle and craft the whole thing out of one solid ingot of steel but that was more prone to fracturing and couldn’t take the stress. Plus the vibrations in the hand from the swing were ungodly painful. This way the handle had a much softer material around it to absorb the shake. After about ten chimes of continuous hollowing she had finally bored through the wood. Checking the size of the gap it was still a little too tight sliding a file through the gap and taking off another thin layer of wood she slipped the tang through and it fit perfectly. The assembly of the whole thing took no more than a chime and after assembling it. The sword stood proudly. A small grin on her cheek she pulled a strip of leather form a nearby chest and began to wind it around the handle. A small smearing of animal glue on the end of the leather and she pressed hard on it with her right hand helping the glue catch and hold.

“Quin” A voice cut through the din of the forge loud and stern. “Nice work. You've forged it decently as usual. But why don’t you fully embrace your heritage and use your arm more?” She sighed and gave him a half-cocked look. Tilting her head to her right shoulder lightly.

“Because, if I just used this arm for everything I cannot say I’m a good smith. If I use the same tools as everyone else and produce higher quality work then I can say I’m a good smith and not a moment sooner.” She grumbled lightly flicking her eyes back across some of the other smiths and their apprentices. “I’m going out for a bit, make sure that you sell the sword.” She exhaled picking up her coat and tossing it over her shoulders. She stepped out into the frigid air gear at her side and glaive in hand. And boy was it cold.

[Sayana]

Don't forget to edit/delete your grade request. If there's anything I may have missed, please PM me and I'll be happy to look into it.

 

Cyrene

Skills

• Blacksmithing: 4
• Bodybuilding: 4
• Singing: 2
• Composition: 2
• Observation: 2
• Socialization: 2
• Weaponsmithing: 3
• Engraving: 1
• Carving: 1

Lores

• Location: Kitrean Krafts
• Blacksmithing: Lighting a forge
• Singing: Tune of the forge
• Blacksmithing: Drawing out metal through hammering
• Blacksmithing: Cooling metal with water and reheating it in the fire
• Blacksmithing: Use of an oil bath
• Weaponsmithing: Creating a fuller on a blade
• Weaponsmithing: Grinding a sharp edge
• Weaponsmithing: Forming a guard and pommel
• Blacksmithing: Creating a screw thread
• Weaponsmithing: Finishing a hilt

Comments: I enjoyed how much detail you put into the thread. You clearly have researched several of the processes involved. However, particularly at the beginning there were cases in which you were using the skill Metalsmithing rather than Blacksmithing. To make alloys (such as steel) you need the Metalsmithing skill. Steel is an alloy made by competent metalsmithers and would be beyond the skill of Cyrene since she does not have the Metalsmithing skill. Similarly, the use of molds is that of Metalsmithing whereas Blacksmithing is when you physically alter the metal (ie. with hammering) rather than melting it first to cool in a mold.

As such, I only awarded you blacksmithing and weaponsmithing points and lores related to those skills.

Your Grader,

Sayana

Boxcode design: Firenze