ORIGIN

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The Blacksmith waited patiently, noting who took which items. He did not judge, but he found it interesting, and he wondered what each choice said of those who made it. The wolf-dragon, choosing a great broadsword: immense and brutish. The jaguar, a strong yet lovingly made, defense-oriented shield. The little hybrid child, a worn little dagger. And the winged humanoid, a worn but bladed bracer, decorative and functional both.

When they had once again taken their places, the Blacksmith gave them a deep bow of his head, and turned to his forge.

"I begin... by melting the metal down... pouring it into a mold. And then... tempering it... at times with water... or with oil. This depends... on the metal," he went on, but it was clear that this was a summary, rather than part of the true lesson.

"Then... whether it is worn metal... or a fresh work... it must be heated, and polished, and changed. Please... come to the forge... and heat your piece. It must begin to glow a little... but red, and not white... it must not begin to melt."

He turned, and slid an old, simple blade from his rack, pushing it into the open mouth of his forge. The coals sputtered, flames licking at the weapon. "Press upon the billows... like so. It is the breath... of flame. The lungs... of your forge. Without air... your fire will starve. Enough air... and it grows hot. Too much... and it may melt your works. So press upon it..." and here he demonstrated, giving a thrust downward, the accordion-like bellows granting a great whoosh into the forge. "And check your steel... for heat. Red-hot," he reminded them, and then stepped aside.

Gembounds have been tasked with placing their item into one of the open forges, and heating it to red-hot. Participants should roll Other to correctly heat the item, or may use fire magic or pressure (air) spells or the like if they know suitable magic! A Critical Success will perfectly heat the metal for the next step. A Successful roll will land the metal in a relatively correct heat range. Barely Successful will heat the metal, but leave mild defects for the next step. Failure will overheat the metal, warping it a little, and a Critical Failure will melt part of the piece, causing drips and distortion for the next step.

Anyone may still join this thread, and catch up in their post!

@Renasci @Ember @Spark @Kaimana @Zhusha

Kaimana listened to the instructions, trying to imagine them in her mind. Unfortunately, she had never really stuck around the Forge much, preferring the open water and the moderate warmth of the sand, so she had never really burned in her mind the image of heated metal. The process seemed wondrous to her, what with the living fire and the red metal and all, and questions began to formulate, boil and bubble at the surface of her tongue. Ah, but she knew that first she should listen and make her attempt, even if it wouldn't answer any of the unfurling curiosities.

Kaimana took his shield and came to the billows — studying, for a moment, his own breath before beginning. She would attempt to find a suitable rhythm for the air. The breath of land creatures was a topic within Kaimana's sphere of interests, or at least had been before she received her gills. Rhythm was crucial to keeping the pace of life. Would that be the case for the fire? Just how 'alive' was it? It lapped at her, taunted her with an intensity she had never felt before, and that could certainly intimidate her. What a peculiar dance; the thing you try to nourish keeps threatening to kill you in return. Kaimana had never really experienced it before.

She thought, as she pressed, of breath and life and the shimmer of the flame as it responded to her with such vigor. She almost felt like speaking to it, slowly convincing herself that it would respond. Conversations spun around in his mind and he became entranced, entrenched, somehow failing to realize how well he was doing. Perhaps the fire liked him, but Kaimana figured he liked the fire much more. He may have outmatched at a certain point, because while his work was pretty dang good, it somehow missed the final piece to make it all click into place. It lacked perfection.

But Kaimana had no eye for perfection. Beauty, in her eye, was found within her partner; in its warm embrace. She liked this. She had to know more about this. "Why... How does the fire breathe?" It was almost a murmur, but Kaimana made sure to project the question enough to at least be heard.

Ember glanced back at Spark.

"Do you need help?" he asked, kindly, even as he gripped the sword in his own forepaw. He led the way to one of the forges, peering back questioningly as if to invite his child to join him; then he focused on his own work for the moment. He wasn't sure if it would work--and truth be told, he was a little distracted by just how many Gembounds were here.

He didn't want to show it, because he feared it might do the exact opposite of reassuring Spark, but it made him a little nervous. Ember was used to spending time in solitude, or nearly.

He tried to focus on the blade, though, laying it on the stone lip and then pushing it carefully into the shimmering heat of the open forge; he then began to pump the billows slowly, peering in after each press.

After a moment, when it had begun to heat, he pulled it out a little and tried to summon up his magic, pressing one massive forepaw across the weapon's metal. Heat flared over, singing (he winced a bit) his paw but sending up little threads of steam as he pushed pawpads down the blade.

"I think that's it," he murmured, after a moment, pulling the weapon free and turning it this way and that. His paw still burned a little, bright, but the blade was softly red-hot from crossguard to tip. He glanced over to see how Spark was faring, then looked to the Blacksmith, awaiting the next step.

image credits: [x] [x] [x]

What appeared to be a rather small lizard had scurried their way into the forge while the Blacksmith spoke. “Hi!” They chirped squeakily after the speaking was over, but their focus on the Blacksmith was brief.

Instead, their keen, pale yellow eyes observed the items displayed eagerly, even though most of the items were many times their size. That didn’t stop them from gravitating towards the swords, tugging at each of the large swords futilely with their tiny jaw before then moving onto the next sword.

At last, they found the perfect weapon. It was a mostly lightweight, thin sword that might have resembled an incredibly large needle rather than a sword, but Lior was delighted by their discovery. While it looked old, it also looked free of scratches. It was more dull than used. Not that Lior noticed such details, they were simply happy to begin the process of turning this weapon into a weapon all their own.

With their item chosen, they scurried up to a forge as quickly as they could while dragging their sword with them. They plopped the sword into the forge, and then followed the instructions as best as they could regarding the bellows. It was somewhat awkward, for a creature of their size, but Lior was determined.

The Blacksmith watched, pleased with their progress. He slipped out from behind his counter to wander among them, gently pointing out here and there where he thought they might need help: "A little more... air," or "further in... over the coals." Praise was given freely, too: "Well done..." and "Yes, that's right..."

When he reached Kaimana, he paused and thought her question over. "It must... breathe air. Stifle a flame... starve it of air... and it will die. Like any living thing." His words were gentle, as though fire were an infant that bore caring for and not a beast that could consume and spread like... well, like wildfire.

He circled back to his counter and waited, and when the Gembounds' metal was fully heated, he spoke again. "Now... we will shape it. I place my piece... on the anvil." He demonstrated, pulling his blade from the coals, settling it on his flat anvil--there were a few of them, littered around the room, of various sizes and shapes. "Then I use... my hammer," he went on, turning and picking up a small, flat-headed mallet from behind him. "And strike it... where I wish... to shape it." He paused, his mind wandering for a moment.

Flowers, spreading across the mountaintops. Trees littering the slopes, sparkling green in the orb-light. He had Smithed Leo itself, and what a work it had become-! He smiled to himself, and then looked back up, blinking.

Oh, yes. The lesson.

"...Be sure not to strike it too hard... or it will crack... especially if it is not tempered... I will teach you that--but for now... this is old steel." It had already been worked and quenched before, but he'd get to that--first things first.

"There are... techniques." He demonstrated. "You can stretch... your metal." He hammered one side, then deftly flipped the blade, hammering the other with loud, hard clangs that rang through the little cave. As he worked, the metal seemed to stretch, growing longer! "The way you hit it... will determine which way... it expands. Direction... strength... And," he went on, turning and settling the sword across the rounded horn of the anvil, "if you wish to add... a curve... it is done, like so." He hammered the blade around the rounded shape, adding a curve to the sword, albeit one that was on the wrong side: the flat of the blade, causing it to be a sort of circular sword. He then turned, pushing it back into the flames. "If it grows too cold... it will break... so heat it when it needs it. Do not be afraid... to fail... to experiment. It is... a learning process. And perhaps... one of you... will find a new technique."

He smiled at them again, then looked to Lior. He turned, and rummaged behind the counter, before coming up with a relatively small hammer--but he eyed it doubtfully before setting it down; it was still larger than Lior's entire body. He went to the hatchling with a dip of his head. "Welcome. Would you like me... to hammer for you..? You might tell me... when to hit, and how. I will be... your hands, if you require."

Gembounds have been instructed to place their item onto the anvil, and attempt to alter or improve its shape. Participants should roll Other or Physical Combat to properly shape their item, or may use any spells if they know suitable magic! A Critical Success will perfectly form the metal. A Successful roll will correctly shape it, with only minor flaws. Barely Successful will shape it, but with noticeable flaws and warps. Failure will warp the metal the wrong way, possibly introducing cracks, and a Critical Failure will distort or even break it in noticeable, possibly hilarious, ways.

Anyone may still join this thread, and catch up in their post! Feel free to double-roll according to the thread's progression as your character catches up with the steps, if you are joining late or missed a round.

@Renasci @Ember @Spark @Kaimana @Zhusha @Lior

They gave the dagger another final once over, in an attempt to banish their doubt over their decision. It didn’t do much, but everyone seemed to be moving on once again, and the last thing Spark wanted was to be left behind. So they followed Ember to the roaring hearth of the forge, observing the process first hand and up close.

The blacksmith described the fire like something alive, an organism that required food and air and a gentle, nurturing hand. As they stared into the orange glow, they thought they could hear it breathing. In its domesticated state, the hybrid wondered how similar they were as beasts. They had no clue though, how hungry and destructive this flickering creature could be.

They would not use their magic for this, unsure of how it worked and how helpful it’d be. This blade seemed it would need a great amount of heat to soften, not the pleasant warmth they emanated at times. Finally, after a long while of nervous waiting, they offered the dagger to the flames, and started to press against the billows. It was hard work for one so small, but they muscles on, peering into the forge as their father did. Distraction drew their eyes however, to watch a small lizard scurry around to take part. They had left their work dangerously unattended in the process.

"speaking" and thoughts

The Blacksmith's explanation felt a little redundant and left Kaimana still feverishly curious as ever, but she wasn't of mind to attempt again at present moment. Next step was shaping, using... a hammer. Ah. Shoot. Kaimana wished for a moment that she were more of a magician. Perhaps somewhere out there was a spell that could turn paws into hammers, or give paws enough flexibility and grip strength to wield such things. Alas, if it were out there, he knew it not, and thus would have to rely on his own most powerful skill: his mind.

Well, there were a few things he could try, and like Mr. Blacksmith had said: this was a time for innovation. The only part of his body that could grip and slam anything was his maw. He could feel the phantom of inevitable pain from the reverberations of the hammer on his teeth. Ah, but perhaps he didn't need to hit that hard. He could also try a hammer head without the aid of the stick lever, so his hammering could be more direct. He could hold a piece of metal in his mouth (painful) or perhaps with rope he could tie a regular hammer by the stick to his paw... hm. Hm...

Straps or rope would work. Kaimana would look for some that was long enough, then use her teeth to ensare her paw and the handle of the hammer with it while gripping the hammer head in her hand. Tightening it to what felt like security, she would begin her attempt at the Actual Hammering.

Unfortunately, in the process of innovation, Kaimana had forgotten to actually aim where to place her hammer. On top of that, she didn't really know how to tie a good knot. Maybe she should've asked for help... but, ah well, nothing to get upset over.

Game Master Dark

Kaimana

Ember

Lior

Renasci

Game Master Dark

Lior

Spark

Spark

Kaimana