Tarag's Forge: Fine Weapons & Armor to save your life

[Boddynock]

Tarag looks up into Richard’s face, smiles, and says, “Right, let’s make ourselves a sword.”

First the dwarf examines the steel stock that has been delivered. He hefts the bars, balances them, listens intently to the sound of the hammer’s strike as they lie suspended from a cord, frowns at some note Richard cannot hear, then nods his head in satisfaction. “There’s some inconsistency but nothing that can’t be worked out. A little more time in the fire, a few heavier blows here. Yes, this will do.”

After that, it is a blur of activity and din, punctuated by long slow periods when the only sound is the creak and breath of the bellows, and the chiming clink of the coals. Richard finds himself listening intently - at times convinced that he can almost hear a bright humming, a clear resonance which seems to come from the steel itself.

When Tarag notices his attentiveness, he smiles and nods. “Ah, you’ve a gift for the steel. There’s some dwarves that never hear the song of the metal. You let me know if you’re ever interested in working seriously at the forge.”

Over time the sword takes shape. The central core is a single piece, heated and folded, heated and folded, time after time, until Richard loses count of the number of layers that are formed.

Three fullers adorn the blade - channels that run the length of it, reducing the overall weight while maintaining the strength of the weapon.

“Here now, see, this is how we make it lighter and stronger. There’s craft in the making of it. There’s mystical significance, too. The central fuller is a symbol of the swordsman - straight and focused, unerring in intent and light and subtle in execution. The other two channels are heart and mind, as one in support of hand and arm. They’re also the strength of community and the support of comrades.”

“Your sword’s more than an extension of your arm. It’s the execution of your will. Some cultures would say that it's your soul.”

In moments of resting the blade, the two of them work on the furniture of the sword. They craft the cross-guard and the hilt, the pommel and the scabbard. Here Tarag lays down the steel and takes up leather instead, black and fine-grained, giving a grip and a cover unassuming but fair, so that the blade cleaves to the hand and pleases the eye.

Finally, having ground the edge, and polished the metal to a gleam that belies the deadliness of the blade, the dwarven smith stands up, stretches hugely until joints pop and crack, then takes up the finished sword and hands it to his assistant.

“There it is. A fine day’s work from us both. Enjoy it, my friend - and come back soon to buy it from me.”

[sblock=OOC]And here is your sword. [/sblock]

 

[Richard Rawen]

As the pair works the question of a life by the forge is brought up. His childhood memories include only fear of interrupting a very large man at work... yet with this experience new memories are re-awakened, smells and sounds, the feeling of the heat, the whole process elicits something from deep within him. His only answer to the smith's inquiry is to give the Dwarf a smile, and work with more determination, paying careful attention to the process... to the details...

Richard is amazed. Well, largely exhausted, but also amazed. He drips with sweat, and wonders at the Dwarf's seeming freshness... he has barely broken a sweat, yet it seems as though the shorter of the pair did all the work in the young fighters view.

As the scabbard takes form Richard keeps looking over at the cooling length of steel.
The crossguard is a looping affair that gives protection yet is still lightweight. The pommel has a fine heft to it... the whole weapon comes together before the human's eyes and he is in love as he holds it for the first time.
Swallowing the lump in his throat, the big man grins like a child with a much wanted toy...
Richard hefts the blade, stepping away from his teacher he brings the tip in a deadly arc, reversing it for a chop and parry, then slashes upwards, disemboweling some unlucky imaginary foe. His grin has only gotten bigger.
Wiping his sweat from the handle, he replaces the weapon in it's scabbard and returns it to Tarag. There is no reluctance, no hesitation.
Calmly he speaks in a deep timbre, "Thank you. I'll be back."
Gathering his belongings once again, he retrurns to the street, and to the Red Dragon Inn, with hope of adventure to bring him the coin he will need to return soon.

 

[Boddynock]

Tarag watches with satisfaction as Richard experiences the sword. He receives the blade back from the fighter, nods, and smiles deeply as the young man leaves his forge, determination and decision manifest in every line of his body.

There are few things more satisfying than the consummation of the creative act. One of them is to witness that delight in a kindred soul.

Nodding again and smiling to himself, Tarag stows the new sword with care, locks up the shop, and heads off to the Red Dragon Inn for a bath and some well-deserved rest.

 

[Boddynock]

Tarag comes into the smithy, in company with another dwarf - this one thin and with a long, and somewhat woebegone, face.

"Now then, Hardin, remember, there's a sack of links behind the leather bale. The chain shirt is a popular line, so best to make sure you have an adequate supply."

"I should be gone just a couple of days. If it's any longer, though, I wouldn't worry. Oh, one other thing - the hand-and-a-half is for a young human called Richard Rawen. There's a note on the scabbard with the amount he still owes on it. It is not for sale to anyone else - I don't care how much they offer for it!"

Tarag bustles around, giving last minute instructions like this for some time, as he removes from the shelves his own armour and weapons and proceeds to don them. Then, going over to the counter, he reaches down behind it and pulls out a backpack bulging with gear.

"All right, mate, good luck with the shop. I'll be seeing you soon!" And he heads out the door.

[sblock=OOC]Hardin is an NPC smith whom Tarag has hired as his assistant during his absence. Currently the stock consists of simple weapons and light armour, which are available at list price.[/sblock]

 

[Boddynock]

Hardin moves around the smithy, putting gear into order, and working on minor projects. As he does so, he grumbles.

"Come on, Tarag - where are you? You know I wanted to visit my third cousin's godson's sister before the end of the vintage. She's a dab hand at the full-bodied reds!"

 

[Wik]

Elthic quickly makes his way into the room, and looks about quickly. He spots a spear hanging on a wall and grabs it.

"How much? two? Sounds good. Oh, and tell Tarag that Elthic will be by soon, with a commission on a weapon. Exactly what weapon, I don't know..."

Elthic pays 2 GP (Price knocked off my PC sheet, under "Darque Demesne")

 

[Boddynock]

Hardin splutters in amazement as the dwarf rushes in, grabs a spear, drops coins in his palm and rushes out. Elthic is already out the door when he calls out, "Uh, oh, yes ... I'll tell him."

Shaking his head, he puts the money into the cash box and returns to his chores.

 

[Boddynock]

"No, no, no! I keep telling you, we must have the high grade anthracite - not this dross you keep trying to fob off on me. Ah, Tarag'll have your guts for garters when he gets back."

Raising his hands in disgust, Hardin shoos the coal merchant's halfling assistant out of the shop, then goes back to work on a rapier he's assembling.

 

[Richard Rawen]

A young human warrior enters the shop, looking a bit confused at the sight of the apprentice.
"Oh... uh, I was just checking to see if Tarag was in, I have a sword that we . . erm, well, that he made for me, that I owe on... and I needed... um. I have some stuff here to sell, if you'd be interested, uh, towards the payment on the blade."
Richard shows the apprentice a set of slightly worn Studded Leather armor and a serviceable Scimitar.
OOC: I have already assumed 10gp for the armor and 7gp for the sword, if the shop can pay more than that then I'll gladly apply it to Richard's balance.
[sblock=Boddynock: ] HOLY COW, I cannot believe it is past the deadline. I didn't even consider it as Richard has been in the RDI this whole dang time waiting for an adventure to start. I have even foregone an adventure in the hopes of getting into the big one... which has just drug on and on and on... but since a Dragon appeared in the flesh to Richard and his companions, I felt sure he was supposed to get involved. Enough excuses, it looks as though Richard failed to meet his deadline, even though less than a week of game time has passed... hell it could be a day the way things are written. *shakes head* That is what threw me off.
Richard has gone so far as to try to borrow the money, which will work, but only at the original price. If that is no longer an option then he'll kiss the blade goodbye and if he lives, and it is still there when he gets back, he'll be back in for it.[/sblock]

 

[Boddynock]

Hardin comes over when Richard enters the shop and listens attentively. When the young man identifies himself and mentions his sword, the long-faced dwarf looks him up and down appraisingly and says, "Oh, so you're Richard. Yes, your sword's over there. It's waiting for you."

He pauses, then continues in a tone of grudging respect, "Tarag talked about you. He said that you've got the gift. He also said that if you were interested, he'd be willing to take you on as an apprentice."

At Richard's embarrassed look, Hardin says, "Oh, don't worry, my nose wouldn't be out of joint. I'm not his apprentice - I'm just filling in 'til he gets back. Of course, it'd be up to him to work out the details with you ... I just thought I'd let you know that you made quite an impression."

When Richard offers the used goods, Hardin frowns and says, "We generally don't buy other people's work here. Tarag prefers to have his name associated with gear he can vouch for - and that means gear he's crafted himself. But I can give you the going price for such equipment. We'll sell it on elsewhere."

He takes the scimitar and the studded leather from Richard and stows them behind the counter. He then goes over to the hand and a half and makes a notation on the slip of parchment attached to it.

"Now, you owed 122 gold, 8 silver and 3 copper. At twelve and a half gold for the armour and seven and a half for the blade, that's 20 gold, so you still owe 102 gold, 8 silver and 3 copper. As soon as you can pay that amount, the sword's yours."

[sblock=Richard]Richard, don't worry about the extra charge. If you can borrow the amount still owing, I'll be delighted to see the young fighter going off to battle with his new sword!

As to the apprenticeship, if Richard would be interested in following through on this (perhaps taking a rank or two of Craft (Weaponsmith) or Craft (Armor) next level) that could work out for both of us. I've been quite frustrated that Tarag has missed out on at least two commissions because he's been off adventuring (after waiting months for something to turn up), and if Richard, as opposed to an NPC, had been here, we might have been able to work something out with those PCs who came into the shop looking for a deal. Then there's the fact that Richard, as Tarag's apprentice, would actually have been receiving two and a half gold a week through the Job System. [/sblock]