ORIGIN

Pages: 1 2 3 4

The Blacksmith had, some time ago, promised to open up his forge for lessons. He was equal parts nervous and excited, though in a muted, dreamy sort of way. Fingers drifted across his implements, and he glanced up again at the chimneys routed through Leo's volcanic walls.

Undoubtedly, the sky would be shimmering with heat, by now, with smoke pluming high. The geysers would be more active than usual, spitting steam and hot water skyward in angry spouts. Would it be enough to inform them-? Those kind, strange creatures--would it be enough to draw them in, to let them know that his lessons, at last, were ready? To draw them down the tunnel to his Workshop?

The Blacksmith glanced around one final time, hoping that all was in place. His tools--and plenty of spares--were laid out on a table alongside the anvil. Examples of finished works hung on racks on the natural stone wall behind him, and fresh oil and water lay fresh in the quenching troughs.

The blacksmithing lesson was prepared; now all he needed were the students.

This thread is open to anyone, and will teach characters the rudiments of blacksmithing, as well as (hopefully) leaving them with a finished work to take home! Characters from Beachcomber will specifically be tagged, as they were invited IC!

@Dread (Ember) @Kaimana @Renasci @Mossie @Cerilaine @Zhusha

The harpy had been... waiting, since the last time they'd met the Blacksmith. Going day by day, wandering the beaches of Leo and observing the goings on... so when the heat climbed with the smoke and sparks and activity of the gueysers, they had a feeling this was the Forge the Blacksmith had spoke of.

So, they take flight, opening their wings and balancing the shard across their back, they wing easily across the skies, enjoying the new currents on the air from the heat. Once close enough to land... someplace that would suit their wingspan.

"Blacksmith? It's Renasci," they call, taloned feet stretching and scratching on the stone as they land near the entrance, and move forward. A few strikes of their palm against the stone doorway, the best sort of alert they could give while also asking for entrance. "I do hope I'm not interrupting...?"

"When I speak"
When I think

It had been some time since the Blacksmith had extended his invitation to come find him again after a few cycles. The matter had been practically forgotten in favor of other artistic pursuits--when, by chance, he'd happened upon a piece of cinnabar left from his hatching on the beach, the potential in the red streaks it left on surfaces had all but taken over his mind. He'd spent hours trying to draw something with it--something like the ancient murals in certain tunnels, maybe--and growing steadily more frustrated with the limits of his dexterity.

So when the heat hit and the geysers became unusually active, it did not occur to Zhusha that this might be some sort of signal from the Blacksmith. Still, he thought it might warrant an investigation--so off he went, a white-feathered silhouette gliding through the smoke and steam.

"Oh," he said, a little surprised, when he reached the end of the volcano's tunnel and saw the Workshop. "Hello, Blacksmith." The array of tools and finished works of gleaming metal fascinated him. Some reminded him of the gift he'd received from the Wishing Stone, with their elegant shapes, sharp edges, and the way their surface reflected the light. Others seemed totally different. "Are all of these yours...?"

It would be quite impressive, if they were.

burn me to ashes and scatter me in the flooding spring river
that i might drift with the fallen flowers to a place no one has known

Ember had come looking for his lifegiver, initially. He knew the dragon lived here, somewhere, though they'd never met; and he'd invited to carry Spark along to try and find him--his grandfather, really. It seemed only wise, to introduce them, and to introduce himself. But he'd heard, too, of the Blacksmith's offered lessons; so he'd tucked Sir Hammersly, the sentient hammer into one large forelimb before setting off.

The pluming geysers and distant shapes heading for the workshop told him where the lessons would be, at least--and in his mind, Sir Hammersly was already grumbling. Sixty feet in the air. Flying. Flying! At my age! This is no life for a blacksmith. You are a hammer, Ember pointed out gently, but received only a Hmph in return. Their mind-to-mind communication had become second nature to him now, no longer feeling so foreign, though Sir Hammersly's cranky nature could still grate on one's nerves.

He swept down low with a beat of broad wings, his white form flashing in the light of the volcano's lava. Feet touched down a moment later on the hot rock of the tunnel, and he lowered himself down to head inside. His magicka flickered up at an afterthought, his body illuminating the tunnel walls in dim firelight.

Look at this place. This isn't a proper smithy! Where's the ventilation?! This lighting is terrible--one mistake and... The hammer continued his half-hearted tirade, followed by reluctant admiration that at least it has some good materials, and Ember smiled faintly. The one who runs it is supposedly just called The Blacksmith, he thought back. Hmpph. We'll see.

Ember plodded closer, offering careful nods to those inside--eyeing over the elegant bird, the winged humanoid, the hooded Blacksmith. He wondered, briefly, if it were harder for land-based creatures to make their way within. "Hello," he offered; "I'm Ember. Is this where the lessons were going to be?"

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

being vague about Spark in case they choose to join! @Spark (if you want!)

His greetings were given gently, with nods and smiles that--while not visible behind the mask--could be heard in the lilt of his voice. "Not at all, welcome," was his answer to Renasci; "It is good to... see you again." And, "Hello, ahh--did you... give your name? -Last time?" to Zhusha, apologetically polite.

Ember and Spark were regarded with a curious eye, and a "Please, come in... everyone is welcome. This is... a lesson, that was offered... to all who wish to join, yes. A blacksmithing... lesson--that is what I do. I am... the Blacksmith. And these-" he went on, again turning to Zhusha, "are not all mine... they are what I made, yes... or repaired... but they never--most of them... never belonged to me. I work... for others within the caves." There was a twinned soft joy and sorrow in his tone, and he paused to look back over his weapon rack before peering at his few students.

"I would like... to teach you the basics... of smithing, if you wish to learn. Of... working metal into a good shape. A strong... shape. Please, choose... something, from my stock. Anything you wish... you will keep it, after. A shield or a... weapon, or armor... or a trinket. It... does not matter what it is... so long as it is metal. We will begin by... improving what is here." Even the kind of metal did not matter--but he'd address that soon.

This thread is still open to newcomers who may wish to join in late!

Gembounds have been invited to each select an object from among the Blacksmith's armory. These items are unenchanted, but range from shining new pieces to ancient and rusted, pitted with time; from huge to small, iron-black to flashing silver, fitted to a wide variety of beasts and humanoids. Gembounds may find a wide variety of armor, shields, trinkets and weapons, within reason.

Gembounds will be asked to roll along with the Blacksmith's instructions each round, and will get to keep the finished product of their work... however it might turn out.

@Renasci @Zhusha @Spark @Ember

Ember glanced back once to check on Spark, his demeanor patient and attentive but no longer so overbearing as he'd been the first day. Spark seemed like a good kid, and so far, they were both doing all right, which had mostly reassured Ember out of his helicopter parent first day.

"It's all right," he offered, a soft reassurance, a half-squint of his eyes and backward flick of his ears an additional encouragement. It was meant to say, you're safe here; the Blacksmith certainly struck him as nothing sinister, and the rest seemed perfectly friendly. Leading by example, and with a nod toward the weapons, he said "Would you like to pick something with me? We can each do one," and made his way to the racks.

Sir Hammersly, of course, was braying in his mind, insisting that he choose a 'good, reliable piece like a strong sword! or a helmet! Everybody needs a helmet! To protect your head, you know!' Ember gave a soft hum of acknowledgment but little more, not wanting to draw too much attention by having an audible one-sided chat with his hammer--instead, it sounded like a thoughtful sound and little more.

Ember perused the racks, his big form sliding among the troughs stuffed full of old metal scraps and shields, and found that Sir Hammersly was perusing with him--commenting on this or that quality of metal, disparaging nicks left in rusted steel or complaining about the uneven thickness of an axe-head. At length, Ember found a large, mostly clean greatsword of what looked like old but polished steel--and given that the hammer didn't immediately find anything to complain about, he took it up at once.

Aside from some internal grumbling that 'nobody understands the importance of a helmet anymore, not these days, no' the hammer mostly seemed content with this, and Ember paused to wait for Spark before moving back to his position in the 'audience.'

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

Game Master Dark

Renasci

Zhusha

Ember

Spark

Game Master Dark

Ember

Kaimana

Spark

Renasci