Smithing Tips

It's cold, the sky is grey, and its snowing. Not the busiest time for commerce, but the trades always sees some level of bustle. Especially on days like this, when the heat of the forge is a welcome relief from the icy grey outside. Culix is at one of the smithies in the district, a swordsmith, to be precise. A Khazadhi establishment, various works hang ready to purchase from the walls, and the Chief smith, a matronly khazadi woman with burnished skin, burly build and wisps of grey in her auburn braids works alongside a gangly human apprentice at the anvil.

She doesn't interrupt her hammering for conversation, but manages to carry it on well enough in the open-fronted shop in between resounding clangs. The apprentice holding the piece against the anvil with a pair of tongs held in a white knuckled death-grip against the muscular Khazadi's strikes. "Somethin' light an' with a point?" the smith replies to Culix's last comment. The Goblin nods her head, "Wouldn't mind an edge, too, but I don't really do with curved blades." she offers. She's bundled up against the cold in a grey woolen cloak, but the heat of the forge is gradually stripping it from her- the hood is down and front open, already.

You wouldn't expect someone like Telamon down here. Then again, he has a knack for turning up in the most unexpected places. He steps into the smithy, wrapped in a fur-lined leather greatcoat. "Pardon, ma'am," he says with a smile, before stepping back. "I was looking for Brisby. Is he not in today?" He reaches up to doff his hat, running a hand through his hair. "He'd asked me to come down and answer a couple questions about a commission I'd requested..."

Similarly bundled up in a cloak as a barrier against the cold, a rapier-armed human woman strolls down the street. Though her gait is slow, her gaze is alert - evident interest taken in the wares on offer, and even more so in those crafting efforts taking place in view of passers-by. She looks to be happily intrigued by the efforts around her, though she spares an occasional glance up towards the drifting flakes. The wreath-in-flames symbol securing her outermost garment in place might serve to proclaim her as an adherent of the Lady of Inspiration, but she otherwise bears no signs of affiliation.

The activity at the smithy particularly catches the woman's attention, inducing her to drift a little closer. If nothing else, the trio of dwarf, goblin, and half-elf in their differing attire makes for a striking image - one that might perhaps be worth attempting to capture in ink later on.

One of the few forges away from the main commotion of the blacksmith had been rented out for a period that day, off in one of the corners of the room. There was a relatively large, bronze covered figure who was hard at work, with several pieces heating in the hearth, while various metal beams ending in a bronze gauntlet lay nearby. Likely the explanation for the lack of a right arm on them.

"It's not my place to talk, the owner was polite enough to let me use some of their facilities for a day, but you will likely get an excellent quality blade if you want one from this place." They chime in with a low, somewhat static filled voice from behind their brass head, the mouthpiece lighting up beneath a grille in the helmet with each word. "Their workshop is well maintained and the source for their fuel is equally high quality and well prepared. And that is before mentioning their personal skill with their work as well."

Munch is bare ass naked, in defiance to the cold! ...or maybe because he's a golem and not really bothered by such things until they hit the extreems. Either way, the metal man makes his way out from Goblintown, his regular axe strapped to his back between his wings, and a massive steel maul in his hands, the head of the hammer ornately etched with runes. Munch heads towards the dwarven forge, pausing a moment outside before ducking thru the door. "Hello, hello!"

Culix glances up as Telemon comes in, and she offers the somewhat-familiar face a nod of her head. They've worked together in the past. She looks back to the Smithy, "Shortsword is probably decent. Maybe one of them fancy swords. You know, what the nobles use for duelling?" she says then, and holds her hands apart to mime a size. "So long as it's pointy and not too heavy." she add then. The smith's hammer continues to clang, and if she's frustrated with the ignorance of her customer, she doesn't show it. "Rapier, or Epee perhaps." she replies to the Goblin, "Not usually my style. But doable." she adds then.

To Telamon, she responds, "Aye, off today. Ought to be back on Monday." she offers. The Apprentice, who has the appearance of many mid-teen boys, as though he was stretched on a rack and the growth of his knees has outpaced the rest of him, tries to dislodge a sweat-soodden bit of hair that dangles in front of his eyes by blowing at it, with limited success.

Telamon ahhs. "The message came while I was off helping out with a bit of a mess in one of the mines outside of the city. I'll have to return Variday then." He chuckles softly at Schara. "It's not a blade I'm commissioning. But Brisby's probably the best man I know for this kind of fine metalworking. I think he likes the challenge."

Tel gives Culix a little wave and a grin, though Munch's entrance makes the elegant half-sil's eyebrow rise. You see all sorts of things in Alexandria, after all. Ygraine is positively normal after Munch's appearance, though his eyes take note of the wreath-in-flames, a slight smile appearing on his face again.

"A rapier?" Beyond the interest inherent to the gathering within the smithy, Ygraine's attention has now been firmly caught. The Ceinaran priestess dares to move closer, flashing a wry smile - her off-hand lightly touching the pommel of her own rapier. "I am sorry for interrupting, but I wanted to speak in support of the notion of a fast blade being a good choice for someone who favours a light touch and quickness of wits as the routes to winning a contest. But you have little reason to trust the word of a stranger, let alone one who barges into your conversation. I should probably apologise again and withdraw, and try not to let my enthusiasm get the better of me in future."

Munch nods to the head smith, waiting until she's momentarially not elsewide busy. "Ernie Cruncher messed up his hammer again, asked if you can fix where the runes got dented. Will be by himself once his legs are reattached. Which might be a while; didn't catch what he tangeled with, but messed him up good."

He nods in agreement to Ygraine's words. "Seen rapiers put to good use. Favor big and heavy myself, but everyone has their own best style."

"For a gobber, a dueling sword makes sense to me. Less force required to move, and weight is less of an issue." The artificer in the corner nods. "But I understand your wish to avoid such work. The process of drawing out a blade for one is a waste of your muscles and talent for anvil work no doubt. I would recommend adding a portion of manganese to the blade if it is not already present from your source, should you end up going down that route."

They stop to affix a simple limb to their right side, no more than a clamp on the end of a pole, really, as they watch the others.

GAME: Culix rolls sleight of hand: (3)+11: 14

Culix looks up to Ygraine as she butts in and shrugs, "Hey, I'm open to advice. Only ever really used these..." she says, and withdraws a dagger that'd been concealed on her hip under her cloak, rolling it over he knuckles- a little less elegantly than she'd hoped, which draws a disapproving look from the gobber, as though the dagger did it on purpose just to show her up. "But some of the stuff I've ended up scrabbing with I'd rather not get so up close and personal with so something I can poke from a bit further away seems like a good idea." she adds then. She points at the hilt of Ygraine's own sword, "Somethin' with a fancy handle like that, too." she adds then, looking back to the Smith.

She smith grunts and looks back over towards Schara at their advice. She finally stops hammering at the piece she's working on, and gives the apprentice a nod so he can take it back over to the forge and heat the work-cooled metal back up again before she carries on with her shaping. He takes the opportunity to wipe his brow with a dirty rag and try and tame his hair back away from his eyes. "Got my own recipe for steel, thankya very much, and it's served me well for many turns." she replies. "Can pass the message along if'n I see him." she offers Telamon then, and hangs the hammer up, rolling her shoulder now she has a brief respite. "Aye, tell 'im to bring the hammer in, I'll see what can be done." she adds to Munch. "Or, huh, guess send someone in with it if he's not on his feet."

Telamon offers an abbreviated bow to the smith. "That's all I can ask. Don't let me interrupt you further." He chuckles softly at the discussion about blades. "Ah, reminds me of the Vintner trying to sell my wife and I on a matched set of light Tsuran fighting-blades. Not really our style, though."

He tilts his head to Ygraine with a smile. "I hope Vaire is keeping your steps light and your thoughts inspired, miss. I don't follow her myself, but my wife is a devotee."

Momentarily distracted by the sight of someone attaching a new limb to themselves, Ygraine thereafter offers Munch a rather bashfully apologetic smile - stares quite possibly being routine for the war golem, but evidently still something the Ceinaran feels she should avoid herself. Quietly clearing her throat, she nods gratefully to both Telamon and Culix. "Oh! Thank you. I like to come for a wander here, when I have the opportunity. One can often glimpse my Lady at work among her father's adherents, I think. And..." She focuses upon Culix in particular, the twirled dagger drawing a look of interest rather than disapproval or concern. "I could let you examine this one, if you like, gladly enough."

Munch nods, setting the steel maul over with what he assumes is the 'to be worked on' pile. Buzzing quietly, he glances to Telemon. "Has to be a better word for that. People seldom actually follow a god. Gods don't walk where mortals can tred. But 'learn from the example set by Kor' is a lot harder to say than 'follower of Kor'." The golem buzzes quietly again, glancing around those gathered. "I'm Munch, by the way. Munch TerrorMaw. And this is Reaver." He motions to the massive adamantine greataxe upon his back.

"I hope you mean steels in a plural sense, or you already have some in your alloy, then. I was just making a suggestion due to you saying it was not your normal work, and the thinness of the blade for such a weapon has different requirements for retaining it's shape." The artificer huffs, taking the clamp and grabbing one of the plates out of the forge to work on for a moment. "Gods don't walk where mortals are, sounds about right. But maybe you will find the lady you are looking for around here."

"Then there's some gods you don't want to meet." Culix mutters, rubbing her neck absently while she slips the dagger back into its frog under her cloak. She eyes the blade hanging at Ygraine's waist. And while the other woman is not exactly a giant in stature, she's substantially taller than Culix. "I mean, I can give it a go but I reckon it's longer than I am from heel to ear." she says then, and takes a step closer to accept the blade if it's offered.

The smith eyes Schara, "Not my preference, doesn't mean I don't know my way around a pointed blade. Khazadhi swords are as fine as any others, we're good for more'n just axes and mauls." she insists.

Telamon gives Munch and Schara a somewhat inscrutable look. "Not always. But this is a world of wonders, and sometimes you'd be surprised at who you meet on the roads you walk." His face relaxes back into an easy smile. "So it's always a good idea to greet people politely. After all, you never know who you may have met, unawares."

That being said, he tilts his head at the smith. "Quite true. There's a reason khazad metalwork commands good prices." He strokes his cheek with a faint grin. "I mean, the sildanyari have been doing it for quite a while, but the children of Reos do seem to always keep one step ahead."

In the distance, Mikilos is annoyed, and unsure why.

Using an under-arm draw with her left hand - in the hope of making it clear that she is posing no threat to anyone - the human brings forth her swashbuckling blade. "I wouldn't have put it quite like that," she assures Culix with a smile, before settling the rapier atop the palms of her hands, offering it to the goblin. "I thought that you could see where the balance sits, at the very least."

To the group as a whole, she offers a wry smile. "I meant no offence. I seek to serve Ceinara, and I look for her touch as I walk through life. Places dedicated to her father and his crafts can be quite wonderful to visit, not least because the state of my own skills in creating things of either beauty or use leave me in awe of the people here."

Munch buzzes thoughtfully. "Don't think I've ever met a god, but guess is possible. Met a couple demigods. They were kinda jerks, but I didn't eat them. Mostly because Sandy told me not to." He looks to Culix and the rapier. "You can hold Reaver if you want, but I don't think it will end well." The massive axe is not only longer than the goblin is tall, but also quite a bit heavier.

"Ah, gods. Sounds like an excuse to be rude to people to me, but that would just make someone rude to people who do not deserve it in the process, so that would not make sense either." The artificer snorts as they return to their work. "It's the people doing the work that are behind it, not some divine whims that take the credit."

"You're right, of course, I was overstepping my knowledge, and you likely know best." They relent to the smith. "I am sure you will put together something excellent regardless."

Culix steps forwards to take the blade, in both hands, since it is roughly proportioned like a great sword for her- if a particularly slender one. She's able to lift it without trouble, though, she's not /that/ weedy and she gives it an experimental heft. "Mmmm, yeah, I know what you mean- but the balance will be different on a smaller blade, I'm sure." she tells Ygraine. Even so, she gives the tip of the blade a wiggle from side to side to feel its weight. "I reckon something like this in my size would be pretty decent." she finally settles on. She adjusts her grip on the sword, so that she can rest the flat of the narrow blade against her hand and offer the basket hilt back to Ygraine. "Seems like it'll be good for slippin' between ribs, at any rate."

Telamon arches an eyebrow at Schara. "At the risk of spawning a theological debate, that is a matter for some argument. There was an interesting bit of commentary on that, regarding 'the intrinsic value of the clay' versus the hand of the potter working it." He lightly shrugs. "In any case, it's better to not be rude and close doors you don't need to."

He watches Culix heft Ygraine's blade, and nods. "Not my field of skill, but I think you're right. An overlong blade can tangle you up as well as weigh you down." Tel's eyes glint merrily. "Hopefully, that'll never be a problem I'll need to deal with."

Looking rather as if she thinks that she might have got herself into deeper waters than intended, Ygraine ventures another smile... before carefully accepting the return of her sword. "Part of the technique with a rapier does involve striking with the blade flat - parallel to the ground - when aiming for the torso, to let it better slide between the ribs. It's unlikely to smash its way straight through thick bone, but a well-aimed thrust can be highly effective. And, of course, it allows one to make use of whatever speed one might possess, rather more easily than would, for example, the mighty Reaver." She nods respectfully towards Munch and his axe.

"But for myself... I very much agree with regard to keeping doors open, when possible."

"Not much debate to be had frankly, and I do not wish to be thrown out from here never to return." Schara shrugs, reaching to grab another plate from the fire and work on peening it. "Depends on the thickness and density of the bone, not that I would suggest using it for such purposes unless explicitly necessary. But the fact that you are purchasing a weapon means there is some intent to use it, or it is a warning which would be ignored."

"Depends on if you want to leave a door open or not." They shrug again.

Culix takes a glance over towards the seemingly grumpy artificer and raises one of her eyebrows, but then offers a shrug, "Plenty of things need stabbing, and there's gold in it. Better'n catburglary and purse cutting, at least so far as the local law's concerned. Provided I'm stabbing the right folks, mind." she retorts. She nods her head over at Ygraine, "That'd be my worry. With my daggers you can punch through if you need to, on account of them being so short. Need to put some welly into it, depending on what you're sticking." she says then. "But, prefer to aim for the vitals as a rule, so I suppose that's not the end of the world. Maybe ought to get some coin together to get it magicked, they're less likely to chip an' bend then, aren't they?"

Telamon laughs softly. "Yes, definitely further out of my field of expertise. I think I've drawn my knife all of once in self-defense." He inclines his head to Culix. "A possibility. Or you might consider something wrought from a more exotic metal. Steel is not always the only option you have -- whether it's bladesmithing, or life in general."

He claps his hands together. "In any case, I must be moving along. I've a couple more errands to run. I'll try and come by in a couple days to meet with Brisby then." He offers the smith a bow, and a cheery wave to the others, before slipping out.

The human woman offered a half-bow to Telamon as he departed, before looking back to her remaining companions. "I cannot claim to be any great expert, myself, but I can certainly say that I have found the rapier to be very helpful in boosting my own capabilities in combat. Exotic alternatives to steel, however, I can offer little advice on. I fear that my own budget does not extend so far! I need to achieve rather more success in adventuring, I think, for such things to become feasible!"

"I suppose if it is the right person, but that is difficult to ascertain. I would personally value a life much more than a purse being cut, that can always be mended, but I know many in the city do not think the same way."

Unfortunately they were currently incapable of pinching their brow and too busy to do so, so the artificer just sighs instead. "Yes and no. Magically enchanted objects require them to be made near perfectly in the first place. A blade that would break easily would not even be able to contain any enchantments for any semi permanent period of time. Rarer materials are always an option. Adamantine posesses remarkable hardness in a finished product without sacrificing tensile strength and other qualities desireable in a weapon, but is a rarity in most markets. I have never worked with it, but it would be good to try, some day."

Culix listens to Schara with a cant of her head, "Reckon you can't give advice without huffing, can ya?" she wonders, cheerily enough. "Thanks for the tip, mind, but I wasn't talking about a Gobguzz Bargain Bucket Blade, I was talking about getting a decent one smithed and magicked up. Best blade in the world won't stand up to some of the abuse mine see without a touch of magic, I reckon." she says. The mention of Adamantine causes her to grimace. "Yeah, even if you can find a seller- which is a feat in itself- takes a fat coinpurse indeed to get anything more than a thimble made out of that stuff, from what I hear." she muses.

She eyeballs outside, the weather specifically, and then shrugs. She draws her cloak back around herself, "Anyway, I best be off myself. All well and good talking about how I'm gonna spend my money, but need to earn some first." she grins. "Thanks for the tips. Name's Culix, by the by." she offers.

"Ygraine. I've been away for some time, but I'm hoping to manage to stay in the city for the foreseeable future. Perhaps I'll see you around." The human smiled warmly, before inclining her head to the smith as well. "And perhaps, if I strike it lucky, I might be able to afford the materials to let you work in a new medium. Though I'm afraid that I can make no promises in that regard!"

"I realized my advice was neither asked for nor necessary, that is all." The artificer notes with a shake of their head. "It is not a matter of getting a cheap pig iron blade, the requirements go well above the average, you could outfit a small militia with arms and armor for the price of one sword which would be capable of holding any manner of enchantment."

"Schara, it is, good to meet you both, I suppose." They manage to return. "Spend your coin wisely, you never know when it will come in need."

Ygraine watches Culix depart, before offering Schara another bashful smile. "I do apologise for interrupting. I certainly did not intend to wind up with, ahh, a gathering of people talking around you as you tried to work. And I am sorry if the topics of conversation ventured onto awkward territory. I fear that I have not been the best of visitors to your place of work!"

"No, it is alright, it was expected the moment I offered my opinions on matters, and you have not been particularly disruptive." They shrug again, tossing the metal into a quenching bucket. " I am not working on anything sensitive either, so it is alright."

"It is my fault for getting agitated due to talks of the gods. I do not have a good outlook on them as most do."

A short woman, dressed in sea-green robes, limps her way through the Trade District, a small basket dangling from one hand, a trident held firmly in the other. The basket is full of small things. A variety of coloured soaps. Small, fish-shaped candles. Dozens of little hand towels. And something large, wrapped in brown paper.

As she passes by the smithy, she pauses, and then grins. "Ygraine!", she calls out, and hurries over to the tall (to her) woman. Her limp is more pronounced, and a slight jingle can be heard. She carefully drops the basket and trident, and wraps her arms about Ygraine's waist.

Ygraine grimaced sympathetically, inclining her head once more. "I am sorry to hear that, but do not wish to press for details if you would prefer not to share..."

Then she finds herself giggling in surprise, before wrapping an arm around her waist-attachment as best she can. "Hello there! It's lovely to see you." The limp, she opts not to comment upon, though the hug *is* a little on the careful side.

"Do not worry about it, but thank you, it is not something I wish to talk about at this given time." The artificer nods, rerturning to taking out another piece of metal to work on. "Ah, hello, Irshya, it is good to see you." They note.

The Gobbo's ears perk up and she looks around Ygraine's waist, peeking at Schara. "Oh! Hello! This is your..." Irshya takes a step away from Yg, and peers at her surroundings. "Your smithy! Very nice! Are you busy?"

The pool-shark returns to clinging at Ygraine's waist once more. "It is good that you are back, Yggy. Irshya missed you so."

Giggling again, Ygraine fondly strokes Irshya atop her head, before enfolding her shoulders once more. "It is good to be back. And to be hugged," she says warmly, before cracking a grin as she looks to and fro between shark and smith. "Ah. The two of you know each other already? I am glad."

"This is not my smithy, I can neither afford nor wish to purchase such a building at this moment. I am merely renting the facilities for part of the day, that is all. The khazad lady over there is the owner." She elaborates. "I am not that busy, but I do not know Irshya that much. She just owns the tavern with the bathhouse nearby I go to sometimes."

The Gobbo ahs and nods to Schara, "I see. You know how to smith, though? Perhaps you might come to own one yourself, some day, if that is your goal?" Irshya offers the nearby Khazad a nod, and a greeting in the woman's own language.

She grins at Ygraine, "Yes, you must be happy to know that the Tarrace is doing well for herself."

Laughing, Ygraine delivers a squeeze to Irshya's shoulders. "I played a small role in setting up the Tarrace, myself. Though Irshya and Sabina deserve much more of the credit, I should stress. And I gather that our little friend here has very much taken the responsibility onto herself, in recent times. I'm very happy for you, and proud too, Irshya."

"Yes, I know how to smith, but I would not like to open a smithy. Having functioning facilities for my own workshop would be more than enough however. It is not my goal to be a smith, but much of my work on my armor and equipment requires frequent working of metal."

"I did not know there were several owners, but it seems something kept you apart for some time. It is good to see that your reunion is one that is happy."

"Oh, you do more than smithing, then?", the Gobbo wonders of Schara. She smiles brightly as she is praised by Ygraine, but sniffles only moments after. "Irshya did not always like having to do the work. And she misses Ygraine and Sabina both, greatly." Irshya clings to Ygraine once more, and hides her face in the woman's stomach.

"Awwwww. I'm sorry. Truly." Ygraine finds herself using both arms to hugs the diminutive goblin as best she can - before shooting an apologetic look over her to the (part-time) smith. "Should we head off now and let the work here resume? I Can pamper you as best I can. And carry the shopping for you, if you like...."

"No, I am going to stay here and do more work. It needs to be done while I still have the time." They answer with a shake of their head. "I do not need pampering, but perhaps Irshya does, so you should leave it to her, do not worry about myself."