back behind the anvil [open]

[kaioinazuma18]

It had been a long time since he had been back, about a month and a half if he figured correctly. It felt good to be back in his forge. For once he could get back to working on projects people would commission him to do. He had been back for a day now and sadly for him, there was no work. No one had come by, and he had almost gone stir crazy with his absence from work. “So much for being backlogged with orders…” He grumbled as he looked around, the forge workshop he had built was oddly clean for once. His eyes closed as he poured a small flask of molten steel into a mold, a bar being formed from it as sparks flew up He let the steel cool and he pulled it out with tongs, quenching it in oil before pulling it out and heating it up in the coals, twisting the bar to make a helix shape out of it. Most of what Kaio was doing was out of sheer boredom. He continued twisting five sixths of the way down, then began hammering it out, making the shape of the blade, drawing the billet out again and again, the steel becoming the shape he wanted, the shape of a sword fit for a knight.

He quenched the blank sword again and drew it out of the lukewarm water, heating the blade up and bringing the shape of the blade down. This was what Kaio was born to do, his hammer pounding the billet down again until it made the shape of the blade again. It was then he quenched the blade a final time, cooling it in oil again. He pulled it out one last time, heated it up for a short amount of time and quenched it in water colder than the coldest water most swordsmiths could produce, hardening the blade to a final shape. All that remained was to sharpen the blade and to make the hilt. He sighed and set the sword blank down, the pattern coming out on the blade. He sat down briefly and poured a glass of tea he had been preparing, sitting and waiting for someone, anyone really, to come by. It did get awful lonely here on his own. Kaio drew a deep sip of the tea and watched the crowds walk by his forge about their business. So many people running around, gossiping, telling stories, telling jokes, what have you. Kaio had never had much interest in trite conversation. As he sat, he inspected a piece of armor he had made yesterday, a shoulder plate to a much larger piece of equipment. It was being made to make light armor that was effective to a point. Everything did have its breaking points. And so far, the armor he was coming along nicely, The shoulder pads were a pain to make.


word count: 485
thoughts: meh, not my best.

[elvishbanana]

Reena sighed. Ilirea was beautiful, as pretty as a picture, but it was not so friendly for non-Riders. She hefted her pack and pulled on the reins of the donkey carrying the rest of her possessions. The street was crowded, full of people. Humans and elves alike, as well as some that she couldn’t identify. None of the different races seemed to mix much. Colors and smells jumped out at her. She eyed a length of sky-blue linen, and sniffed a little. Her weaving tended to be a little more even. But the color was good. Her hand brushed against a skein of bright yellow yarn. “You touch, you pay,” snapped the woman behind the counter. Reena’s mouth tightened as she regarded the human with a cold stare. She withdrew her fingers and moved on. Perhaps the color wasn’t so good after all. As the petite elf moved down the street, the crowd intensified. Trainee Riders and citizens looked after her, their stares making her uncomfortable. There had been people by the sea who looked at her the same way, boys and young men, and a handful in Ellesméra, where she had walked in disguise more often than not. But in Ilirea! The crowds were thick and the combination of people and smells was getting to be too much for her. Reena tied her donkey to a post, waving a hand over the animal as she muttered a spell to ward off thieves. Then she ducked into a shop, sighing with relief at the quiet. Sunlight streamed into this side of the street, but the shop was hot even without the light. She pulled off the pale blue headwrap holding her hair back, her dark-blonde hair falling over her shoulders. Reena looked around.

A smithy? she thought. A very neat smithy as well; it looked as though the owner was as tidy as Reena herself. The owner… He was well enough as men went, his long hair tied back out of his face, his bright blue eyes showing his intelligence. His arms were bare, revealing tanned, muscled arms. Reena nodded to him. He was an elf, which was a relief. All she knew about humans was that they were rude, arrogant, barbaric, and not to be trusted.”Good morning,” she said quietly, her accent softening the syllables. She was uncertain what else to say. Sorry, can’t stand crowds so I hid in here? Sweet Drottingnu’s magic, you’re tall? A burst of inspiration seized her. ”Do you sell knives?” she asked. ”My dagger broke on the road.” It was true- the blade that had survived fifty years by the sea had shattered somewhere between Osilon and Gil’ead, destroyed in a scuffle with Urgals. Luckily, the trade caravan Reena had traveled with was full of seasoned fighters, traders who were accustomed to Urgal trouble. Reena had kept the hilt, for reasons she didn’t really understand. She pulled it out of her belt, fingering the smooth wire-wrapped silver lovingly. Then she offered it to the smith. ”I’ve had this for fifty-two years,” she said. ”I’m sorry it broke.”

She could still remember the day Bear had given it to her. A sixty-fifth birthday gift, both decorative and deadly. Bear had insisted she keep it with her always, just in case. The huge mammoth of a man was not always around, as he did most of the shopping, for things they couldn’t make or grow themselves. Reena had fallen in love with the silver blade almost instantly, the blade itself as smooth as a mirror, the hilt wrapped in wire. The blade itself was tinted blue in sunlight, and from the few times she had needed to use it on Urgal raiders who attacked the house on the beach, Reena had discovered it was enchanted. Ice spread from wounds inflicted by the knife. Bear pretended that he hadn’t known the magical properties, but she could always tell when he was lying. Bear…

Reena swallowed, hiding the flash of pain that lit up her face. Bear was imprisoned, she knew that. Beyond that, she had no idea what had happened to her protector. But he was alive. I would have felt it, she thought stubbornly. If anything happened to him, I would have known. Reena blinked, bringing herself back to the present. If only she had kept the shards of the faithful little knife, maybe the smith might have been able to fix it. But she hadn’t been wild about the idea of digging small pieces of metal out of Urgal hide. What was done was done- she would simply have to get by without the thing.

Word count: 771

[kaioinazuma18]

Kaio glanced up, hearing someone duck inside his shop. "Ah, good morning to yourself." He responded, his own accent quite a bit thicker. He smiled and wiped his hands on a cloth and wiped some of the soot off his face. He accepted the blade. "This is fine craftsmanship. I won't be able to repair the knife, but at least I can make you a new one." He responded to her, his hands silently fingering the hilt. With that said, he began rummaging through his belongings and pulling out a wire bundled steel plates. "Well, this should do." He said, looking over the woman. "If it wouldn't be too much trouble, may I ask your name?" He inquired softly, curious. "If you want, you don't have to go anywhere... well, at least not until the rush hour dies down, which is usually about midday." He mentioned, pushing the pile of wire-bound metal into the furnace, using a spell to increase the heat drastically before pulling it out and drawing the billet out again. He did this again and again, drawing out a decent length blade, the blade about ten inches with three to four inches for the hilt. He grinned as the steel became thinner and thinner, soon the shape of a blade emerged from the blank. After each heating, he quenched the steel, cooling it well below what would be considered a normal temperature. The water was so cold it had a fog misting off the top and formed a nice frost around the blade as Kaio removed it.

He let the blade itself dry and air-cool the rest of the way. He sighed as he looked at the blade, removing the scale from the blade to reveal a gorgeous faint swirl pattern in the steel. He smiled and began tanging the blade, applying layers of tang before heating the blade up again and again before quenching it and repeating the process. It was then he began sharpening the blade, polishing it and bringing out the pattern. By the time he had finished, it had been a few hours and he was sweating from the heat. It was then that he began working on the hilt, wrapping the thick leather-wrapped hilt with the wire to bind it all together. The blade was harder and structurally sounder than anything he had forged before, the hilt wrapped with silver-wire and a leather strip dyed black. During forging, he wove a spell into the blade itself, protecting it from external damage, the extreme heating and cooling sealing it into the steel. He looked to the woman, sheathing the dagger in a leather sheath dyed black like the hilt. “Ma’am, your blade.” He said, presenting it to her.