Something less destructive (closed)

[Sieve]

Geirrin did not have any issues with the constant destruction that seemed to be so prevelant in their training though he wanted to try something different.  He had learned so much since coming to the farm, many things that never would have been had he not come here.  He had never touched a horse before coming here and now he was a passable rider.  Today he decided to learn something else.

 

Geirrin entered the smithy nodding to the Master Blacksmith who was already hard at work even though the sun was just starting to sshow itself on the horizon. The heat from the burning coals filled the cramped smithy making Geirrin remove his black coat which he unceremoniously hung on a peg on the wall.  Geirrin picked out a leather vest like the Blacksmith wore and tried it on.  He went through two more until he found one that fit him right.  Apparently most Blacksmiths were much wider than he was. 

 

The Blacksmith eyed him as he dipped a finger into each barrel, one plain, one salted, and with olive oil.  Each had there own unique purpose.  He had been here before to make the arrangements and the Blacksmith had shown him around the smithy and told him about the various pieces of equipment.  He had also given him a crash course in how to make something though he knew that Geirrin would not be following the traditional ways of a Blacksmith.  Wherever possible Geirrin would be using saidin to craft the items.

 

 

[Sieve]

The walls and workbenches held all types of tools.  Hammers, tongs, anvils, and files in all shapes and sizes.  Some of the equipment Geirrin would be using though for the rest he would rely on saidin.  Everything the did revolved around the use of saidin and this was no different.  Geirrin looked around the shop picking up a few of the tools inspecting them as he decided what he would make.

 

Geirrin seized saidin letting it fill him.  The taint as always made him want to sick up, it was always there yet he had learned to live with it.  Aside from the taint holding saidin was wonderful.  With a flow of air Geirrin picked up a bar of iron and thrust it into the coals.   He fed flows of fire into the coals increasing the amount of fire until the iron became yellow-hot just shy of white. 

 

With another flow of air Geirrin lifted the bar of iron and laid it on the anvil.  With the same flow of air he held it in place then he created another flow of air which he used as a club to strike the iron bar flat.  Occasionally as the iron cooled Geirrin would direct a flow of fire into the iron to make it yellow-hot again.  Once it reached the proper color he would begin beating at it with the flow of air.  He continued the process until the entire bar was flat. 

 

Next he channeled a flow of water drawing it from the appropriate barrel to quench the flat iron strap.  The iron hissed as the water made contact and steam rose into the air.  Geirrin glanced at the grinding wheels though he chose to use flows of earth to grind the edges.  When he was done he had a halfway decent iron strap that would go around the wooden slats of a barrel to keep it together. 

 

Geirrin started the process over.  When he was finished for the day he had made ten iron straps which would be enough to make five barrels.  He felt exhausted and thought that he must have lost ten pounds from the effort.  Now seemed like the perfect time for a meal and a mug of ale.

 

[Sieve]

Geirrin returned the next day bright and early with a pile of planks to make the barrels.  Outside it was pouring and he could hear thunder in the distance.  It might have been natural or one of the Asha'man playing with the weather.  Either way it was a good day to be inside. 

 

The forges were already fired up which helped to take the chill out of the air.  In another hour or two it would be almost unbearably hot inside the smithy even though it was only walled on two sides.  Geirrin picked up two pieces of the wood that would form the barrel and studied them deciding what weave he would use.

 

Geirrin experimented with different weaves.  What he found worked best was a modification of the shaping weave.  He wove flows of earth with a touch of fire just so into the two pieces of wood until they were fused together.  No one but a male channeler would be able to see that there had once been a seam there.  To others it would appear as one solid piece.  When the barrel was formed Geirrin picked up two of the barrel bands which he had made yesterday.  He floated them over on flows over air then laid one over the barrel.  With flows of earth and fire he wove them into the band so that it fused together tightly around the barrel.  He did not think they were necessary except for ornamentation.

 

Geirrin made four more barrels the same way.  When he was finished he gave them a satisfied nod and saw the blacksmith staring at him.  The man smiled which was rare as he said "If you keep progressing like you are I think in a few more months I will be out of a job."  Geirrin returned his smile saying "I doubt that Master Hamm, this is only temporary but I do enjoy it.  "What's next?" He asked the blacksmith.

 

Master Hamm had selected a small bar of steel then showed Geirrin how to make a simple butcher's knife.  He said he had an order from the inn for ten of them.  "Nothing fancy mind just something serviceable."  Geirrin nodded taking the bar of steel with tongs of air.  Master Hamm shook his head then shrugged as the bar came out of his hand.  The man had seen him channel often enough but he had never been touched by a weave before.  The man simply returned to his work as if it were a daily occurrence. 

 

Geirrin set the bar down and released the source.  He felt his muscles knotting up from the constant use of the power.  Just because he was doing the work with saidin did not mean that he did not feel the physical exertion from it.  Geirrin removed the leather vest and apron then hung them on the hooks.  He took his black coat from an adjacent hook then put it on buttoning it up to the high necked collar.  It was time again to go to the tavern for a meal and a mug of ale.  Perhaps one of the serving girls would be interested in massaging his back and arms...

 

[Sieve]

Geirrin arrived the next morning refreshed.  Fortunately for him he found one of the serving girls more than willing to massage his sore muscles and let him steal a few kisses.  Naris had always been kind to him and she was pretty to boot.  Without realizing what he was doing he had taken off his black coat and donned the vest and apron that the blacksmiths wore.

 

Geirrin embraced the source, it was like having to stick your head through a midden heap to find the pure water underneath though the smell of the midden heap remained.  Everything was enhanced while holding Saidin though the taint was always present.  The taint had no noticeable effects when he released the source though life seemed dull when he was not holding Saidin.

 

Geirrin wove a flow if air picking up the bar of steel.  Wove was what they called it but is was more like he pushed, pulled, and struggled with it.  Geirrin placed the bar in the coals though he did not need to.  He could easily have channeled flows of fire directly into the bar though he was at least trying to do some things traditionally.  Directing flows into the coals he waited until the bar became yellow-hot.  He pulled it out and laid it on the anvil.  Channeling earth he created a smith's hammer then grabbed it up with flows of air and began flattening the bar.  Geirrin flattened the bar then wove flows of fire to cut the steel forming the tang which would be covered by wood to make the handles.  Once it was cut he quenched the metal then ground the edges sharp.  Geirrin ran a finger across the blade and was satisfied with the sharp edge.

 

Geirrin placed the knife blade aside then started on another one.  He was finished by midday.  With his black coat back on he decided to head for the tavern.  Perhaps Naris would be up for more kisses today.  After that he would head to the stables and go for a ride.  Learning to ride a horse was one of the many things he had never done before coming to the farm.

[Sieve]

With all of the requests out of the way.  Today Geirrin was going to try something different, a sword.  He knew it would not be easy though there was only one way to learn.  He exchanged his black coat for the leather vest and apron then set to work.

 

Geirrin selected a steel bar with the aid of Master Hamm.  He had looked at a few of the sample pieces picking a style that interested him.  A double edged hand and a half sword.  The crosspieces of the hilt were ornate and he knew that would be the most difficult part.  First things first he needed to make the blade, almost half again as long as his outstretched arm.

 

Geirrin placed the bar in the coals then embraced saidin.  The light was there as if just over his shoulder.  He drank it all in suddenly feeling alive.  His vision was sharper, everything seemed brighter.  The foul taint, a midden heap amongst a garden.  The taint was always there whether you liked it or not.  You could try to ignore it but it was always there.

 

Geirrin heated the coals with flows of fire until the majority of the steel bar was yellow-hot.  Again he made the smith's hammer with flows of air.  He picked up the smith's hammer with flows of air and began flattening it.  When the steel began to cool Geirrin placed it back into the coals directing flows of fire until it was yellow-hot again.  He continued to flatten it with with the hammer until it was the proper thickness.  Several times he melted the steel and started over until he was satisfied. 

 

Geirrin completed the final shaping the created a fuller down the center.  There were any rumors as to its purpose though the truth was that it allowed you to reduce the weight of the blade while maintaining its strength and stiffness.  Once that was done he got started on the hilt.  The hilt and pommel were easy enough though the onrate crosspiece proved difficult at best.  Several times he had to walk away out of frustration.

 

When he was finally satisfied with the final product he hung it on the wall of the forge with a flow of air.  Master Hamm smiled at him then nodded.  Geirrin would find a suitable scabbard or make one if he must.  Then he would return for his sword and begin wearing it in place of the sword he had been given from the armory.