The Apprentice II [Crafting Solo: Blacksmith]

[Saber]

    “Stiffen your grip!” The shout echoed through the dimly lit red smithing room. After the shout filled the space, a loud CLANG followed suit, spreading into the air with the noise of several metal bells. Fire spewed out from the furnace as the flaring hot red and yellow coals inside of them cracked and bubbled in the intense heat. Sparks flew out into the air like flares as a heavy hammer came down once more onto the glowing orange piece of metal on the anvil; CLANG, CLANG, CLANG.

    “Strike the metal not with the hammer but with your soul, Adventurer!” Another loud, booming shout sounded off over the sound of the metal-bell explosions. Just off to the side of the furnace, a large man stood tall with his arms crossed as he watched a much smaller man stand at the anvil in front of him. That man at the anvil breathed heavily, his arms were tired and burning from the physical abuse he was taking. The metal he held between the tongs was slowly started to take form of a flat object, but he wasn’t done with it yet. The blacksmith blinked and raised his head as his apprentice raced the hammer once again.



    CLANG! CLANG! CLANG! CLANG! One swing fell… and then another… and then another… all striking the hot iron bar that had been smelted into a mess of burning orange light. It was starting to cool because of the lack of flaring heat that the furnace provided but the hammer kept coming. The heavy tool crashed down with a ferocious outcry of force each time it smashed against the glowing metal, causing fire to fly into the air and causing another small dent to form with each connection. The iron bar began to stretch across the anvil as it was smashed into by the hammer again and again. The Blacksmith stood in his place with hungry eyes, watching the Adventurer beat on the iron bar like a machine. The sight reminded the man of his younger self; defiant against the will to quit, filled with locked up emotion that he poured into the metal, and ready to take on whatever challenge came to his young store. Since he opened his shop the Master Blacksmith had seen many strange things occur in his forge. He had been asked to form various objects, tools, and weapons. He had met people from all across the land who came to his shop, looking for finely crafted weapons. When the Adventurers appeared, his busy life only increased as his store’s traffic did. Now, he was seeing something else he had never thought he would get to; he was watching an Adventurer who was just like him slowly being crafted into a blacksmith just as he had.

[Saber]

    It had been three days since the Adventurer appeared at his door and during those three days he had refused to leave the forge. The Blacksmith stayed with him and the man’s wife brought them food occasionally. However she left the men to their work. The fire in the Adventurer’s eyes burned as bright as his furnace and he wasn’t going to miss a second of the young man’s progression. The player known as Saber was here to learn how to forge the strongest, sharpest, and most durable weapons. He was here to learn how to create armor that could withstand any situation. He was here to learn everything. Yet his determination seemed misplaced. The Adventurer held the hammer as if it was a weapon and bashed at the metals the Blacksmith fed him as if they were beasts. After three days, his form had been refined and his swing was strengthened. The Adventurer had learned majority of the crafting process so quickly that it was hard for the Blacksmith to keep up, but due to his speed; he missed much. As the Blacksmith watched his Apprentice bash away, he could see it in his swing. The young man swung to kill, not to mend.



    It became even more apparent of this after the next swing. Saber brought the hammer down harshly, slamming it into the thick metal before him. Upon the impact, the usual clanging noise was replaced with something vicious. The noise filled the room, making Saber step back and it made the Blacksmith grimace. The metal cracked through the middle, breaking the seam that was being formed and causing all of the work put into its shaping to be lost. The metal could be smelted back down and reformed, but for the moment it was only a lump of cooling ore.



    “Step aside, Apprentice. Let me show you your mistake.” The Blacksmith approached the anvil and Saber stepped away to a safe distance. He relinquished the hammer and watched silently as the Master Blacksmith took over.



    The Blacksmith returned the ore to the furnace with his tongs and increased the heat by adding air to the bottom of the coals. Fire raged inside, slowly causing the iron ore to melt down to its purest form once more. The metal object it had originally been formed into was lost and it was turned back into a single mass of orange goo. The Blacksmith stood by his furnace for several minutes, watching the ore melt down in the raging heat. When the ore was ready, he cooled down the furnace and allowed the iron to harden. Then with speed, the Blacksmith reached in and clasped onto the metal with his tongs. He stepped away from the furnace and turned swiftly to his anvil. Placing the iron down, he held the tongs with one hand and grabbed onto his hammer with the other. A hard swing fell onto the ore, crashing and causing it to spark beautifully. The Blacksmith turned slightly so Saber could watch as he pummeled the ore.

[Saber]

    “You strike as if you wish to kill it.” The Blacksmith spoke in between swings.

    CLANG!

    “That is why you fail every time.” The man’s lips drew into a straight line as he eyed the ore. It was already starting to form into the small shape the two men were trying to make it.

        CLANG!

    “And that is wrong.”

            CLANG!

    “You must feel your swing, feel the ore!”

                CLANG!

    “The ore is your guide. Watch it, follow it, and let it lead you to the end!”

            CLANG!

    “Do not fight against the ore. That is where you fail.”

        CLANG!

    “You must feel the ore. You must work with it to reach your goal.”

    CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!



    Pulling the ore off the anvil, the Blacksmith returned the ore to the flames of hell and watched as the slightly straight object began to heat again. The bright orange glow returned to the metal and the Blacksmith stared at it with proud eyes. Then when he felt that it was time, he pulled the ore back from the furnace and placed it onto the anvil once more. The hammer was raised up high again and the Blacksmith began to slam its hard, blunt side down onto the ore. One swing after another, he formed the ore into a small, banana shape. When the ore became too cool, he reheated it just enough so he could continue to form it. When the piece of metal was almost in the shape he needed, the Blacksmith folded it over on top of itself, thickening the metal and adding strength to its core. He then formed it more and more until he was forced to reheat it. Form, Fold, Heat. Form, Fold, Heat. Form, Fold, Heat. It was an almost endless cycle as the Blacksmith created the small weapon. He took care to follow each step as precisely as he could, allowing himself to have just enough time to move to the next stage.

[Saber]

    One loud, heavy clang made the Blacksmith break that cycle though and he stepped back. He watched the ore steam on the anvil for a moment and watched it cool in the air. The weapon, an eight inch small curved knife had been created by his hands and it looked beautiful but he wasn’t done with it yet. The Blacksmith watched the orange glow fade from the weapon, patiently staring at the weapon as it took its time cooling off. When the last bit of orange had faded, the Blacksmith stepped forward and grabbed the weapon with his tongs. He carried the weapon to his right and dipped it into a trough filled with water. The metal steamed brilliantly, filling the air around the Blacksmith with the hot air until he finally pulled the metal out of the bin. He then carried it over to the anvil and placed the piece of sharp metal carefully down.



    “Do you understand now?” The Blacksmith looked towards the on looking Saber. Three days it had been, and Saber was still lost on how the man had done it. However, it was starting to make sense. Rather than take care with what he had been doing, the player had simply swung away at the ore to try and force it to be what he wanted it to be. His Master had done the opposite. The two men swung the hammer the same way, but they were very different. Saber’s was fierce and brutal. The Blacksmith’s was collected and accurate. Saber knew full well what that meant and it was expected of a novice smith. Yet he accepted the challenge of learning the craft. He would not give up now.



    “I do.” Saber stepped forward to the anvil and looked down at the knife. He had struck the hot ore thinking it was just a metal that would form on its own. That was wrong. The ore was like clay, it was its own being that needed to be mended and molded with a gentle touch. Forcing it to take shape would only lead to failure. Saber would have to caress the ore and let it speak to him. His ears had been closed before and he needed to open them as well as his eyes.



    “Then show me…” The Blacksmith placed the hammer down and removed the knife from the anvil. Saber stepped into his position and accepted the iron bar the Blacksmith passed to him.

    “Make me a sword.”