• Graded • Good for what nails ya

Making nails how fun.

This area is unmoderated. Please click on "Forum Rules" at the top of this page or go to the "Unmoderated Areas" forum to see the rules for playing here.

Moderator: Basilisk Snek

Sarafaynha
Approved Character
Posts: 53
Joined: Thu Aug 24, 2017 3:51 pm
Race: Mixed Race
Profession: Blacksmith
Renown: 0
Character Sheet
Wealth Tier: Tier 1

Milestones

Miscellaneous

Good for what nails ya

Vhalar 7th 717th arc

“Crack”

“Crack”

“Crack”

“Clang”

In a monotonous pattern the Hammer fell, Striking the metal on the Anvil as the apprentice thought darkly to himself. Swords, shields, helmets, anything, but Nails? Farkin nails? Was he a child? He hated making nails. He knew it was foolish to be mad about it, the world wouldn’t have many buildings if it weren’t for nails and the like, Iron nails were one of the most common things needed of a blacksmith, it wasn’t all fancy weaponry or armor, but he’s be thrice damned if it wasn’t monotonous work. Though even with something as simple as the nail there was an art to it, and he’d be damned if he got called out for messing up a nail. Strike the Iron, turn it, strike it, turn it, rotating the long Iron rod as he hammered the end to a taper on the Horn of the anvil. Each strike of the hammer drawing sparks and bringing a nice healthy ring from the metal. Nothing quite like the sound of forging.

Once the nail was pointed to his liking the young smith looked at it before rotating it once more for the sake of inspection. Laying the wedge down on the anvil he laid the rod across it Measuring out the length he wanted the nail to be, bout as long as his middle finger he eyeballed it before giving it a little extra to form the head from and brought the hammer down again, the rod splitting as the hammer and wedge cut it in two. Striking it three, more times the Apprentice spit the hot iron creating a short tapered piece of metal, though it could not be called a nail without a few final touches. Grabbing the metal with the round ended tongs and bracing the nail against the anvil he brought the hammer down on the cut end of the nail, striking it until a head formed on the nail. It didn’t matter how sharp a nail was, if it didn’t have a flat and even head, then it wasn’t worth using. Striking it one last time for good measure the young blacksmith eyed it before deciding it was good to go and placing it on a worn table to cool. Grunting he grabbed the Iron rod again and chuckling mirthlessly to himself.

“Ninety nine more to go.”
word count: 408
Sarafaynha
Approved Character
Posts: 53
Joined: Thu Aug 24, 2017 3:51 pm
Race: Mixed Race
Profession: Blacksmith
Renown: 0
Character Sheet
Wealth Tier: Tier 1

Milestones

Miscellaneous

Good for what nails ya

With each nail he forged he began to hate the task less and less as he settled into the Rhythm. Turn, Strike, turn, strike, turn, strike, and cut. His hammer rang out as morning moved towards noon. Dedicated to his task he brought the hammer down again and again, his shoulder and arm going from bone to jelly as he neared the end of his task. Or at least the first half of it. Looking over his pile of nails he was sure he still had at least sixty or so left, though he’d wait to count them tell he broke for lunch.

Then again, perhaps it was better to make nails, than swords. As a boy he’d entertained the idea of making weapons that men could wage war with, tails of glory in battle had inspired him to become a smith after all, the only greater glory than forging a warriors sword was to perhaps be a warrior himself. But when it came down to it. Nails had more power than any damnable blade. Maybe it was presumptuous, but he liked to think any good smith considered the future of the things they made. So if you made weapons, then were you not in some part responsible for whatever lives the weapon you forged took? But nails, nails had a higher purpose. Nails Built houses, held together wagons, made grand structures stand and even held your dinner table together. Nay, the nail was noble, and many. It did not need to be made from fancy material, didn’t want to be polished to a shine or engraved with gems, nay, it only wanted to be put to use. Idly fingering one of the rough iron nails he had made he pondered what fate the nail he held was. They had been ordered by a farmer, perhaps they were to be put to use to make a barn, or stable. Farming, something he would have overlooked as a boy, but it was a noble trade, working the soil to make the food that sustains a city. Nay, the farmer was like the nail, noble with no need for glamour or attention.
word count: 363
Sarafaynha
Approved Character
Posts: 53
Joined: Thu Aug 24, 2017 3:51 pm
Race: Mixed Race
Profession: Blacksmith
Renown: 0
Character Sheet
Wealth Tier: Tier 1

Milestones

Miscellaneous

Good for what nails ya

Letting his mind idle as he labored he wondered what the future held for him. Maybe one day he’d get to make his own nails, to build his own smithy. That would be a dream come true, running his own small forge, maybe building a house, settling down. It was at the very least an amusing thought. He knew he was still much too inexperienced for such things, but the thought was nice. Having a place to call home that was his own. There really was nothing more satisfying than seeing the fruits of ones own labor.

Looking over at the growing pile of nails he grinned. He wondered if he could ask the farmer to employ him for a little while so he could learn how such things were done. He liked working for the most part and learning to build something seemed like a worthy goal. Redoubling his efforts he went back to work with a renewed vigor, Hammer and tongs extensions not only of his arms, but his being. Striking the iron and rolling it, he could feel his arms slowly turning to jelly but he knew he could finish, only twenty more nails and he could rest. He was jealous of the older smiths who could wield hammers twice as large and beat slag into iron with hardly any effort. While he still hard a hard time beating heated iron into a nail. He knew among other things that he would need to strengthen his body as he went.

He knew he needed to learn much more than he did at the moment, each success he’d had was tempered by failure, just learning to maintain the forge itself had been a process that he’d struggled with. No he needed to keep his goals simple and doable for the time being. He didn’t like the idea of conforming and being a realist but by that same token he knew his limitations and had to stick to them lest he risk disappointment.

Putting the rod back in the flames he watched the metal heat and grow from the dark grey of iron the cherry red of fire. Placing it back on the anvil he went back to shaping it. He wondered what else in life was similar to metal in that regard. Strong and unyielding, but with the right know how even it could be shaped, the heat of the forge turned even the most unyielding of irons and steels and moldable as clay. For the most part smithing was simple the art of shaping metal. On one hand it was as easy as making metal hot, then hitting it until it was the shape you wanted. But that really was just the surface. The ease with which masters did it made it seem like there was nothing more to it. But as he’d learned the trade it felt like the more he learned the more there was to know. There had been times when he didn’t think he’d get any better, weeks would occasionally pass without any progress whatsoever. Now however he was making nails, still a basic menial task, but it held a special kind of worth to him. He’d worked hard to be able to make a nail, harder than anyone who’d never worked the forge would know. However considering years of his life had gone towards being ready to make a nail, then how much more would it take to be ready to make a sword. He shuddered at the thought, but he had the assurance that he’d come this far, and if he could learn to make a nail, then what was a sword but an overgrown nail with an edge?

Shaking his head he decided it would happen when it would. Pondering on it would get him no further. Focusing on the task at hand he went back to making his nails his arms still hurt and his back was soar. However he discovered as he’d been wasting his time thinking his hands had continued their work, only five nails left he believed. Rausing the hammer above his head he brought it down on the rod. Sparks flew from the hot iron as the point formed. Turn and strike, turn and strike. Hammer and tongs the tools of the smith, the forge his burning passion for his craft. He was probably getting a tad over sentimental about it, but he decided that he never wanted to be bitter about doing a simple task at the forge again, They were all to the end of making something, great or small, from the nails in a barn to Armor that saves a life, iron was a part of all walks of life and so long as that was true so too would the forge be eternally a part of the world. Grinning he crimped off the final nail and tossed it onto the pile. Looking over his work he grinned he’d underestimated the task, his arms felt like he’d just shoveled coal for an entire day. Wiping the sweat from his brow he let out a hearty chuckle feeling a small well of pride in his chest looking over his progress, a year ago even making nails would have eluded him. Now here he was making them in masses. His body hurt, but in a way that he didn’t mind. He would definitely get stronger and make greater things, he was sure of it. But he’d never forget the importance of the nail. Perhaps the nail was mightier than the sword.
word count: 942
User avatar
Pash Raj'oriq
Approved Character
Posts: 1200
Joined: Fri May 05, 2017 5:31 pm
Race: Biqaj
Profession: Tankbard
Renown: 315
Character Sheet
Plot Notes
Partner
Templates
Wealth Tier: Tier 1

Featured

Contribution

Milestones

RP Medals

Miscellaneous

Events

Good for what nails ya

Thread Rewards
You nailed it. ;)

No, but anyway … this is a nice, thoughtful solo about smithing silly little nails. It’s got some internal dialogue and existential meanderings as well as a bit of nail angst. Don’t blame you there. At least you got paid for it, right?!

Sarafaynha

Points

XP:
10 | These points cannot be used for magic.

Fame:
N/A

Loot

For the wages.

Injuries + Overstepping

Nothing out of the ordinary.

Knowledge

Skill Knowledge:
Smithing: Making a Nail.
Smithing: Hammer and tongs, tools of the trade
Smithing: Heating the metal
Endurance: Keeping the mind busy to ignore the body
Strength: Hammers are heavy
Psychology: The Nail is Mightier than the sword

Other Knowledge:
N/A
Now that your review is complete,
don’t forget go back to your review post here and drop this image in!


Image

Code: Select all

[center][img]/gallery/image.php?album_id=39&image_id=10124[/img][/center]
word count: 155
Rakahi | Rakahi Pidgin | Common | Xanthean

Because of his Competency in Empathy magic, Pash exudes an aura of calm emotion that is always "on." While it's not strong enough to overcome extreme emotions and it also loses strength the more people he's around, it's still up to you how that affects your character in whatever situation we're in. PM with questions!
[/googlefont]
Post Reply Request an XP Review Claim Wealth Thread

Return to “Western: Etzos”