42nd -Winter - 515AV
“Look here, fool. See all this junk floating? That’s dirt. I only craft with the most pure materials I can make. Otherwise, it’s all a waste.” The Chaktawe rolled his eyes, as if he was explaining how to breathe to a newborn. Despite his not quite relevant expertise on the matter, his ego didn’t allow him to show any sort of humble behavior. As the molten metal was still heated, a metallic tong came forth to swipe away the dark ‘ooze’ that was forming on top of the otherwise brightly shining molten metal. The material didn’t seem to be too dirty, as with just a couple of swipes it was all clear from imperfection. “Alright, lift it from the fire, goof.” He commanded to the Akalak, to whom he treated like an apprentice. Working alone with just a single hand in the crafting of a breastplate was virtually impossible – or at least it would be for a mere mortal. The legendarily exaggerated skills of Khemkhaengawut were, however, above all that. The object to move was a square pot like structure made of stone, which didn’t allow itself to be melted like the metal. It laid on a side of the humble forge fire, which throughout consistency and patience had eventually molten the ore. “Take it here and pour it over. Careful not to miss, Nomass.” The Chaktawe signaled towards a cast.
Meanwhile, Awut retrieved a heavy hammer which he would use to smash the material into shape once they had cooled down. The casted material would take a few chimes to be workable, time which the Chaktawe spent preparing the ball stake they would use afterwards. He waited until Imass’ pouring was complete before sighing as if the Akalak had messed up, and pointing back at the forge. “Good enough for a newbie. Leave that beside the forge, not inside.” Warming up his arm for the incoming heavy task, the one-handed smith recalled the events that lead to all this. Alija owned the shop, and she owed a favor to this Akalak. The Akalak promised some work, and here they were. As the Chaktawe’s behavior didn’t quite allow him to form a relationship or find a job in this somewhat bizarre city, his addiction for the craft of armor was to be satisfied with this task. Imass was definitely not a worthy apprentice, but nonetheless it was the only choice for the moment. The plan was to make a breastplate for the out of shape Akalak, but since the blue man’s lack of experience would hinder the result, Khemkhaengawut instead decided to go for a more simplistic design – coat of plates. A coat of plates was a simple bodice in which plates were either hung, sewn or hidden. It wasn’t as good as a breastplate, but it was very effective. Every novice knew how to craft one of those.
Once the ingots were hot enough, Awut took the tongs and brought them to the fire as he held the moderately hot ingot between those tong and let it regain the heat. The metal always had to be processed this way – first melted and cleaned, then casted and lastly warmed once again for shaping. Skipping those steps assured for an incompetent’s work. He let it rest in the fire while he went for another pair of tongs. “Grab some too, damn it. Stop looking and start helping. Put them all in the fire.” Unfortunately, there were only two tongs in the entire shop, which meant they would have to alter between one and the other. With a grunt, Awut took a hold of another of the small ingots to bring to the fire. It’s companion was slowly turning red. “Listen now, fatty. Take this hammer,” he said as he tossed it lightly towards the Akalak. “I bring you the ingot and you hit it with all of your pathetic strength. Make sure you hit it in the middle, understand? Otherwise you’ll ruin it. Ready?” Without warning, the Chaktawe wrapped his single hand around the tong’s handles, wrapping them both with his overgrown hand. The metal was indeed quite soft already, almost bending it with the tongs. Thankfully, it wasn’t thick enough to be damaged as he held the tongs in such a harsh grip. He brought it to the anvil, and deposited the piece vertically on top. “GO!” he’d yell, eager to hear the sound of a hammer hitting metal.
The best sound in the world for him.