[Aside] Forging Strength

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Kai
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[Aside] Forging Strength

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Clang. Clang. Clang.

A steady rhythm was building up from the sound of hammered steel, underscored by the roaring of the furnace and the breath of the bellows to fuel the coals. The atmosphere was warm, and somewhat stifling to breathe in, as the coals and metal flakes dirtied the two blacksmiths. One was a clear master in her craft and shaping the metal as though it was clay, while the other was but an apprentice, watching and learning, sitting by the grindstone.

"Between you, Percival and Duncan, I am getting a serious re-education," He commented as his contemporary had quenched a freshly made blade. "When did you start learning all this? Supernaturally?"

"I joined the order as an Infant," the woman answered, giving the other teacher a soot-covered smile. "We learned many disciplines from an early age, not the least of which was the care and creation of our equipment." Handing the handle-less blade over, Adrienne straightened herself and began looking over her stock of supplies, having used some of her steel to make the blade. Luckily, she had more than enough for the time being, so the use was of little consequence.

"The forging of a blade is a simple matter, and even a normal blade like this can serve you well for many years. Being able to reinforce a blade with magic is another art entirely, which I won't have time to properly teach you, for it took the better part of a decade to learn."

The Scotsman nodded to the Frenchwoman. From birth, she was trained for this, made for it and practised her skills daily. Meanwhile, Mr. Miller lamented his 'late bloom'. Twenty six years too late, it seemed, "I guess I'll start with the basics then." He sighed as he inspected the blade passed to him. It was a four-foot long cutting and thrusting blade, meant to be wielded with one or two hands interchangeably, "Time to sharpen it?" He started pedaling the grindstone into action, keeping the dull blade above it.

"No, not yet. Keep the edge dull. This is just for practice, to get you used to the weight of a real sword," she instructed, holding him back from sharpening it just yet. "We will hone the sword once you have honed yourself."

He stood up and weighed the metal in his hands; It was about fourteen pounds, much larger than an average broadsword, and within the right bracket for a two-handed sword. First he held it close to himself, then out at a distance with one hand, then both. He then held it in some of the stances he was taught by Adrienne and Aurus, evaluating how it felt at a basic level. He made a grunt of concentration between each stance before resting it back on his shoulder.
"It would be more comfortable if you made a grip for it, Mister Miller. If you'd like, I can make a crossguard for it, or even a knuckle guard, if you'd prefer," Adrienne offered, motioning to the pile of different metals she had, including brass, copper, gold, and silver, though she likely intended to make the piece from brass or more steel.

"Certainly. Cross guard please." He replied before looking over to supplies, and the wood that was available. There was a smattering of hardwoods available for his skills, like oak, beech, ash, alder and chestnut. "And please, call me Jonathan," he smiled at the woman.

Taking a block of chestnut wood, and making some quick measurements of the handle's dimensions and penciling them onto the wood. He then picked up a ball-peen hammer, chisel, sandpaper, and a knife that he'd taken from Duncan's excursion.

He passed the blade back to Adrienne before cutting the wood away into a rough shape of the handle, staying away from the pencil markings to give him as much to work with as possible. From chess pieces to sword handles, it wasn't much of a leap, given that he'd carved other things, such as cutlery and bowls. The handle of the blade would have to be long enough and shaped to accommodate one or two hands comfortably.

Adrienne took the sword back, and responded to Miller cordially. "Of course, Jonathan. It shouldn't take long to fashion a crossguard for you." And, of course, it was only moments before Adrienne was back to work, heating a smaller bar of steel and fashioning it into a simple crossguard. within a few minutes, she had managed to shape the piece, open a small slit through the middle, and then press-form it down the tang, creating a break between the blade and handle, to prevent another blade from simply slicing Miller's fingers off during a battle.

After making the rough shape of the wood block he intended to turn into a handle, he discarded the hammer and chisel and started working with the knife, carving it into a solid piece of wood. He had also taken into account where the screws for the handle would go, and made sure they were positioned at the most solid parts of the handle. After a more refined shape appeared, he sanded it into an oblong, and started carving a cross-hatched grip onto the flatter face. Carved deep enough to ensure that the final sanding would not tarnish the grip.

Then, using a hand drill and his previous measurements, he made the hole for pushing the handle onto the blade, ensuring that there was enough room for the pommel to screw back on. Giving the handle a few blows and looking down the length of it to evaluate any rough areas, all it needed was a few coats varnish and sealants to deal with the weather, and it was set to be used.

He didn't even mind that he had splinters in his fingers. It was a common sensation with this sort of work, and his supernatural toughness made them irrelevant. "Where do you get all this from anyway; eBay?" He asked prior to presenting the finished handle to her, curious as to how magic and technology got along.

Adrienne laughed at the question. "No, much of I brought from France, though some of the larger things I had to acquire locally. Most of what I have gotten from around here was once used to make Samurai swords. The techniques differ, but the equipment remains much the same."
"I just wonder who would be selling ingots of steel."

"There are lots of places you can get steel," Adrienne informed the Scotsman. "Direct from the mining companies, from the smelters, from wholesalers, even retailers sell the materials. Again, a lot of what I have here is from local sources, mainly for craftmaking, but as you can see I make more than simple craftworks." The Scotsman nodded, satisfied by this response, and passed the handle to her.

"How is it, aside from needing varnish?" He inquired, since he'd never had to make something for a critical eye, since more often than not, his wood carvings were gifts as a byproduct of his practise and hobbies.

"Doesn't look too bad for now. It all really comes down to preference and feel, though, so we may need to modify it or change it before too long if you end up not liking it." The French teacher inferred, inspecting the carving and then seeing how it might fit on the Tang.

"Place it the direction you'd like it to sit," she asked, holding the dull blade so that the Tang faced Miller, "then widen the hole slightly so I can press it on." He responded by using a fine circular file and pushing it through the hole a few times to widen the channel for the tang and blowing through it.

Satisfied, the woman stabbed the tip of the blade into a worn stump that looked well used for the purpose, then picked up a wooden mallet, and used it to genty beat the handle onto the tang. once it had gotten most of the way on, she grabbed a small round bit of wood with a hole cut in it, and used it to beat the handle farther in, so a bit of the tang stuck out.

Then, almost anachronistically, the Frenchwoman dragged a modern welder out from beneath a bench and handed Miller a mask as she herself put one on, though she left her visor up as she fished around, finally finding a short, threaded rod. "Ah, this should be good," she muttered to herself , before searching a few drawers- Miller would notice they were full of Pommel caps.

"Which style would you like? Round? Pointy? Shaped like an animal? Perhaps a crest?" she asked, finally settling on a drawer that appeared to hold pommel caps that matched the threaded rod she had located.

"Just a spike. It'll help in a pinch." He nodded, having had to use the pommel as an improvised weapon during his spars with Aurus occasionally. The drawback to having such a large blade is that it had a minimum distance. He figured that having an extra line of attack would help since the blade wasn't the only part of the sword.

Adrienne scooped a pommel matching Jonathan's wished out of the drawer, and slammed it shut with a bit of a clashing sound, then tossed it at Miller for him to hold, finally going back to the sword and the threaded rod, flipping her welding mask's visor down. "This isn't exactly an ancient technique, but it's a useful one that will let us change grips and pommel caps if we need to," she explained, motioning for Miller to likewise cover his face with the welding mask. Jonathan nodded before putting the mask back down.

She dragged the welder's torch and its control pedal, then got a length of metal rod, and placed the sword and rod in a clamp, and got to welding. Bright lights and sparks abounded as the Welding material from her small rod melted and formed a bond between the threaded rod and the end of the tang, permanently attaching the two pieces together. Finished (it only took a few moments) she flipped the visor up and started blowing on the red-hot metal. a slight hint of singed wood and the distinct smell of burnt metal hung in the air, but it was a minor smell compared to all the others in Adrienne's shop.

"When this cools, we can put the cap on, and your sword will be ready for training. Give it about five minutes or so and we'll be good." She smiled, inspecting her handiwork, before leaning back and looking at Miller. "You ready for some real practice?"

"Let's just hope the God of War knows what he's doing," He grinned as he looked at the weapon cooling down, "He's one hell of a teacher, even in the Elementalia Magicus, but each lesson helps."

"Ah, yes. Aurus is quite a powerful spirit, and good to have on our side. Unfortunately, he lacks finesse, and much of his power goes to waste." Adrienne chuckled, amused that in some ways she was superior to a spirit that lived for war, and had existed for untold millennia, much longer than she herself had. "It is lucky that he has the water spirit to cool him off, or i'm afraid he would simply be an unbridled ball of rage."

"And luckier still that Akanus has the finesse part covered!" He chuckled. He then sighed and contemplated: "Single edged or double edged, hmm. The choices." He rubbed his chin as he wondered how the piece of steel before him would now be a tool in his arsenal. And with any tool, taking care of it would be a priority, "I might need to build a scabbard for it in my spare time. Keep the mud and slime off of it when I'm not using it." Doing so would be a time consuming, but easy job for him.

"I may have a scabbard for you, if you'd like. Some of them are magically enchanted, but I don't think the enchanted ones will fit your sword, however, some of my older, more normal ones might work," Adrienne offered, thinking about where she may have stashed her older pieces; They were most certainly in the small workshop, and though tidy it may have looked, there was a real mess once one began to inspect all the small spaces available, Nearly every single one being stuffed full of items or materials.

"What would the magical ones do anyway?" The scotsman wondered, "Simply more durability, or self-cleaning?"

"I have one that poisons any whom are touched by the blade. Another that will repair a broken blade that is placed within it, but it is for a very small blade, so that won't help you. Mostly they give certain attributes, like fire, ice, or wind magic, from before I was able to conjure such things of my own skill." Adrienne rubbed her chin thoughtfully for a moment, and then remembered where they were, and, getting up, she tugged a strip of leather hanging down from the top of a cupboard, and with a sudden clamour, a large pile of scabbards came falling down at the knight's feet. "Oh, dear. Looks like I kept more than I had thought. ah well, more to look through, I guess."

The scotsman blinked as he sifted through them and wondered, "You'd do well to keep a catalogue or something. Why not donate them to other members of your order?" He then scratched his chin, "Wait, none of them would live near here, would they?"

Adrienne laughed again. "No, none of them live around here. I'm the only member of my order this far east. As for a catalogue, I started one, but teaching is more important to me, so I stopped being so strict about the inventory of this workshop in favor of taking the time to grade tests and whatnot. I think you'd understand, being in the same department and all."

He nodded and sighed. For the moment he was able to balance this excursion of magical skill with his day job, but he wondered how long he'd be able to keep them balanced, "I guess I'll have to balance my work with..." He paused to consider his next word, "Other work. It's less like play when there's fireballs and lightning bolts and Duncan involved." He rolled his eyes upon mentioning the American.

"That boy seems to make everything more tiring, I must agree," Adrienne commented, straightening up as she found a scabbard that seemed to be roughly the correct size. It was plain and black, unadorned except for some metal cladding near the tip. the leather showed signs of wear, but there were no holes in it, and it seemed sturdy enough. "Believe it or not, he has a heart, though he would rather you not know it. The reason he is so difficult is because on some level, he actually cares." Tanking the scabbard over, Adrienne poked the part that she had welded, and finding it cool enough, she picked the sword up and slid it into the scabbard.

Amazingly, it fit, and fairly well, which garned a quiet "Heh" from Adrienne. "Hand me the Pommel cap, please, so we can finish the sword," she asked. The scotsman tossed it to her with relative ease.

In a moments time (And with a tiny bit of squeaking) the cap was securely placed, and the crossguard and handle were sandwiched to the blade, providing a firm grip. Adrienne presented the sword to Miller, and said: "This is your sword. Until you have become honed as a swordsman, it shall have no edge itself. When that day comes, the sword may be given a name, but for now, take it, and draw it for the first time, so that you may come to know it."

Mr. Jonathan Miller removed his glove and extended his arm, grabbing onto the grip that he made, attached to the blade Adrienne had masterfully forged. He gave it a slow and steady tug, hearing the blade rasp and ring against the scabbard. It was still as heavy as he'd anticipated, but he was used to the weight, having wielded similar sized swords in Aurus' tutelage.

And he held all fourteen pounds of it as steady as a rock for a few moments at full extension before pulling it back and letting it rest on his shoulder. He cricked his neck and his hand could be seen glowing, as though in acceptance of this new weapon.
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