ORIGIN - Glory's Glorious Gold

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Dread tilted his head at Glory's offer, or perhaps request?--to see his favorite shinies. The idea filled him with excited enthusiasm, and for once, only a little bit of jealous suspicion. Glory was one of the few that he genuinely felt wasn't (probably) after his "stuff."

"I would like that," he rumbled, and it was honest, his head offering a brief bob.

The massive dragon took a careful step forward. This space wasn't made for one his size, and he was cautious about accidentally stepping on something he shouldn't, of snapping and breaking something Glory had worked hard on. He valued his shinies; that meant others must value theirs, as well, and by extension, he should respect that. It was a rather mature thought for the usually immature dragon--but perhaps, at last, he was growing up. At least a little.

He looked over the metal plates, wondering about them. "What is a--mold?" he asked, again tilting his head. He found himself, again, curious as to how it all worked.

As the spear and shield were revealed, he looked them over for a very long time--but he could make neither heads or tails of what they were. For Dread everything "made" was decorative: shiny objects to lay around in his cave, or perhaps rings and shinies to stick upon one's body. But the idea of actual armor and weaponry was still outside his experience. He was careful, still, to compliment them--again in a show of maturity he'd thus far not displayed--but he also had to ask just what they were for. "They look pretty. Like they took a long time to make. What are they? What are they--for?" He stretched out to lean down, still careful not to intrude too much on Glory's workspace so as not to get in the way. Nostrils flared, the glittering ember-fire deep within his chest briefly glowing at his snout, inhaling; he sniffed over the shield and spear, wondering at it. It only smells like metal, he concluded, drawing his head back away, again--and that didn't tell him all that much.

@Glory

Glory continued to merge the two pieces of metal together, but he eyed Dread carefully as the dragon stuck his head into his home and crawled just a little bit in. He trusted the dragon, but he still couldn't help but be nervous by such a large creature in his relatively small cave. Thankfully, no accidents occurred and Glory was more then a little relieved when Dread snaked his head back outside. By then, he was satisfied with his welding and dipped the metel as best he could into the trough. There was a loud sizziling and steam poured from the basin as the metal repidly cooled.

"They're weapons!" he replied as he moved the metal back onto the anvil, using one of the edges, which had an obvious curve, to hammer onto the sheet and curve the whole thing into a better circle. "The long one is meant to be held - it's called a spear and is meant to stab but the customer wanted it to slash as well. The other is a shield, meant to guard against attacks. The bottom is sharp enough to be planted into the ground - not hard rocks, but dirt and sand and such would be fine. The buyer has enough limbs to do it."

He continued hammering at the metal, moving around awkwardly with such a large sheet that he fumbled many times but finally managed to get it in a proper shape. He moved it back to the edge of the forge so the unconnected parts were now directly in the flame.

@Dread

Dread listened closely, eyeing the sword and shield again as Glory spoke, though now from a bit more distance. He sat patiently, leaning forward on his wings. Spear? For stabbing? Shield for-... shielding? Faint excitement gripped him at the idea--a brief image of himself, flying, with a dozen swords and spears pointing forward, attached by metal rings at all his limbs. Yet--his talons were already spears, weren't they? Dread swung his head around to examine the massive, pointed hooks at the toes of his hind feet. And shield--his scales shielded him from harm already.

He peered back at Glory's work, considering. How would he even carry such things? He had wings, and hind feet, but it seemed to him that it'd be more awkward than anything. To need external shield and spear, well... Buyer must be very squishy, he decided (having assumed that Buyer was the Gembound's name). "We have spears on our feet! It does not have claws?" he asked--but didn't mention the shield, because he didn't want to insult Glory who--it seemed to him--was also very soft and squishy.

Dread shuffled a little to watch Glory work, nostrils flaring as the metal sizzled and hissed, as it was hammered, as it was placed into the flame.

"DO YOU NEED HELP WITH FIRE?" he asked abruptly and loudly, inhaling and arching his neck back just in case Glory said "yes." The dragon appeared to be ready to exhale a guttering flame directly over the mold, probably excited just about fire itself, or maybe about "helping," too.

@Glory

Glory smiled with faint amusement and turned to the dragon while he waited for the metal to heat. It made sense that Dread didn't fully understand the need for spears and shields - he had all the weapons he'd ever need naturally on his body. "She does, I think, have claws, but they are small. And her skin is not made of thick scales like yours. She has enough limbs to be able to carry such things. It's extra protection, really, and the spear has extra reach in a fight and does more damage then her claws." He paused, eyeing Dread's long, sharp claws sticking from his back feet and chuckled. "Although, of course, probably not as effective as dragon claws."

He turned back to the forge, where the ends of the metal were glowing as hot as flame. He pulled out the metal and rested it on the ground, instead of on his anvil. There was no way he was going to get that side flat on the top of it. Instead, he pushed large rocks that he had next to the forge against the sides of the circular sheet of metal so that the two sides were pressed firmly together and set another, flatter one, just behind the crease. He began lightly tapping on the metal, increasing in strength until the two layers were properly welded. The whole thing looked quite rough - the edges where the metal had been welded together were easy to see and it wasn't quite perfectly circular, but it was obviously enough for Glory.

With a grunt of effort, he pushed the large open cylinder to an open spot in his cave before turning back to his forge. There was still another to make.

Doing the same thing as before, he stuck the next couple of metal sheets into the fire. "I appreciate the offer, but heating metal up too quickly could melt it completely. As for the gold, it could easily ruin its form and make the final product brittle." He said all of this quite bluntly and hastily. He might spit fire sometimes to speed up his work, but having a full grown dragon blast fire in his cave, that could be a disaster.

@Dread

Dread paused, then swallowed down the gulp of hot air. It was uncomfortable in his gullet and a moment later, he belched loudly, a few stray embers spilling from his jaws.

He was, to put it mildly, disappointed. To put it more accurately, he'd suddenly been really looking forward to helping Glory, and to helping to make his own ring--to have a part in it! And somehow, the idea of craftsmanship and of being useful was new to him. To his still somewhat-childlike mind, being rejected wasn't just what Glory said it was (brittleness of metal) but somehow an indication that he was useless, and wasn't allowed to be helpful at all. His hopes were dashed, and that childish side of him was devastated. If it hadn't been his friend Glory before him, he might have thrown a tantrum; but as it was, he simply arched his neck and hung his head a little, his disappointment clear as he watched.

But Dread was still a simple creature, and very quickly began to forget this tragedy, his curiosity again piqued. He watched Glory closely, and now the cooling glint of gold was visible. Was that one finished ring?

Disappointment was forgotten, excitement now flickering up in the dragon.

"So..." he began slowly, the wheels in his head churning. "You make a shape... and melt the metal--and put it in the shape--and then it cools?"

He sounded a little puzzled, but it seemed simple enough. Obviously there were more complexities to it--regarding temperatures and brittleness, primarily, at least as far as Dread knew. But the basics of it seemed surprisingly simple. Somehow he'd thought it'd be some esoteric form of magic, deeply arcane and complicated, known only to a select few. But this--this seemed... easy.

The dragon was a little tempted to try this, somehow, himself. Maybe if he slipped into the forge when Glory wasn't around..? Dread eyed it all. It's a little small, he conceded at last. But surely it wouldn't be that hard?

Dread had no idea, of course. If he were to actually attempt smithing, and to go about it the way he was imagining, no doubt he would leave tragic fields of ruined, twisted metal in his wake.

@Glory

Too busy with his work, Glory didn't notice the tragedy that struck Dread for all of two minutes. He pulled the metal out, layered it as before, and welded the edges together. He continued with the process of making another cylinder, listening to whatever Dread had to say. He could almost hear the gears grinding in the dragon's head, trying to figure out what he was doing.

He chuckled a bit at the simple explanation. "Yeah, that's the gist of it. There's other stuff you need to do, but yeah I mean, that's the basis of what I'm doing." It only took a few more minutes to finish forging the cylinder, at which point he dropped it into the trough and the cave was once again filled with loud sizzling noises.

Letting it cool for a moment, Glory stepped over to where the other cylindar was resting and began shoving junk and tools and stuff out of the way to make room for the other mold. Once it was done, he dragged it over and removed his smithing gloves.

He stepped back and looked at them. They were crude, but they would do the job. "Alright. While these cool, I need to collect some sand. Do you think you could help me with that?"

@Dread

The dragon peered, bewilderedly, at this request for sand.

First-... What does sand have to do with metal?! and second, and this while turning unselfconsciously to peer at his own two feet, How do I carry that?!

"I will get sand," he assured Glory nonetheless, though with absolutely no idea how he was going to do that. After a moment, Dread turned, shuffling a bit away. An idea occurred to him, and he moved farther away--and then summoned up his magicka.

When he felt it surge high, he lifted his spade-tipped tail and slammed it to the ground--luckily fairly far from the eagle's blacksmithing. Magicka infused the blow, and the cave around Dread began to shudder and quake. Rocks broke around him, the ground churning--and he turned, peering about, a little worried that perhaps he'd hit too hard. The tremors grew stronger, and sand did indeed begin to shudder down around him--and around Glory's blacksmithing area. Just as he began to worry for the integrity of the forge, it settled down--and Dread (half proud of his power, half sheepish at the result) began to gather a big foot-full of sandy rubble.

Not that he had to; it was kind of everywhere, now.

Dread hobbled over to Glory, and despite the fact that there was sand... everywhere, he carefully lifted one taloned hind foot and opened its claws, letting a big foot-full of it fall beside the smithy. "Is this good?" he asked.

@Glory

While Dread was away collecting sand, Glory had intended on getting a couple of buckets of water from the pool in the cave just below his. However, just as he perched himself on the handle of one of the buckets, a shiver went through his cave. He paused and, a moment later, it was a violent tremor. Wide eyed and surprised, he opened his wings and fluttered into the air, head swiveling to check on all of his stuff. Some things were clattering around in his pile, but, by the time the quake was ended, nothing had been harmed.

He breathed out a sigh of relief and looked up as Dread's black scales filled the entrance to the cave again. The dragon dumped a large pile of sand at his side and he hopped away, surprised but pleased at the results. He assumed that it was Dread who had conjured the tremor and while Glory was concerned for his things and for his forge, he didn't feel he needed to worry about Dread. The dragon had, after all, moved away to use his magic. "Yes, that's good. A little more should be perfect, I think."

And now for the trouble of actually getting the sand into the molds. He had an idea, but it was something he hadn't really tested before. This was a good as any thing to try, on something as relatively harmless as sand. He focused, a far different kind of magic then he had to use in the past, and willed the sand to rise. For a moment he thought that his gem shuddered with the effort of using such a delicate spell, but, a moment later, the entire pile bunched together, raised itself up, and into one of the molds.

Glory, it seemed, was quite surprised at his own success as the spell cut off. It was trickier then just breathing fire or making gems appear, but he was proficient enough in magic for it to work fine.

The bucket he had been perched on would still be put to use, however. He did not know how to make water appear just yet. He opened a wings and pointed to the second mold. "For the next batch, can you just put it right into that one? It'll just make it easier. I'll be right back." Whether Dread listened or not, he opened his wings and took off, the bucket weighing him down a bit, but he wasn't going far.

@Dread

The dragon tilted his head, and obeyed, turning to scoop up more sand in his hind talons. It wasn't very effective, as far as sand-scooping went--most of it just trailed out in thin hourglass streams as he shuffled it over to the second mold. But he kept at it.

When he saw Glory moving it--or rather, saw other sand simply lifting into the air, seemingly of its own accord--he stopped and stared. His jaw opened, but before he could question this bizarre twist, the eagle was moving off with his bucket.

Dread chalked it up to magic--reminding himself, as he did, that he still wanted to learn how to whip up a little dust devil with his magic.

It took quite a few more shuffling, somewhat-clumsy movements, but by the time Glory returned, the sand would hopefully all be in place.

@Glory

By the time Glory returned to his cave, the bucket he was holding filled with water, Dread had already filled the second mold. With a great amount of effort, he hoised the water bucket above the first mold and began rocking it back and forth, violent enough so that much of the water spilled into the sand. Once he had gotten half of it out, he moved to the second and dumped the rest in.

He tossed the bucket to the side and immediately landed right in the middle of the first mold, stomping around through it and mixing the water and sand together, until it was all saturated before doing the same in the second mold. The whole process took about 5 minutes. "Alright!" he crowed, jumping out of the sand. "There's the molds! Once the water dries, the sand will be nice and firm. Now I just need to make the things I'll be putting in the mold!" He didn't know if Dread were listening, or even if the dragon understood, but he didn't really care. Sometimes he just liked to explain to himself the steps of the process.

He hopped off to his junk pile, pulling out some banged up sheets of metal. He paused and looked back at Dread, trying to imaging rings on his horns. Some ideas came to his head as he stepped over to his forge, dragging the metal with his beak. He shoved the whole lot of it right into the fire and continued to think, visualizing the process and the final product.

@Dread

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