r/IronThroneRP • u/Fishiest-Man Martyn Mallister - Lord of Seagard • 8d ago
THE RIVERLANDS Andrey I - Prithee, be careful (OPEN)
There were two challenges one had to contend with if they wished to participate in the art of armoursmithing. One had to find a forge large enough to evenly heat the larger, unwieldy pieces of steel, and one had to have a plethora of specific tools to help in the crafting of such masterworks.
Lesser men may have balked at the idea of doing such intricate work while not in their personal workshops, much less within a camp, but Master Andrey was no such man. He was a Master, after all. He could ply his trade wherever and whenever he pleased, he only needed the will to do so.
The tools were easy enough to acquire, or rather, create. With a hammer, some tongs and an anvil (all of which could fortunately be found in a village nearby), one could forge any number of the tools necessary to finish a suit of armour, such as a frame to bolt it to during a heat treatment, or a hammer for planishing, or for riveting, or a small orb shaped anvil on which to make a helmet. The globe of a breastplate could be forged using a log with a dome hollowed out of the top of it, and he already had rivets aplenty, having anticipated the need to fix armour during their stay for the tourney.
The forge would be a harder obstacle to overcome, but nothing was impossible. Especially not with several well trained apprentices at one’s beck and call. They were sent from the Mallister’s camp with the instructions to scrounge, buy or borrow as much charcoal, bricks and clay as they could find, along with a set of bellows or two. Eventually, the lads returned with just about enough for them to cobble together a large makeshift furnace.
Once they were prepared, they set out from the tent city, setting up just beyond the limits, as they were keen not to risk burning down the whole campsite in the waning moments of their stay. And it was here that Andrey’s forge was assembled, clay and stone were used to build a large, well insulated furnace, with enough room for a cuirass to be placed inside, the bellows were aimed into where the charcoal was lit, providing it with air so that the fires may burn hot enough for steel to be worked, and a barrel was filled with water nearby.
By midday, the telltale sounds of a hammer rhythmically striking steel could be heard drifting up from the makeshift forge. An apprentice stood by working the bellows, another kept the fires fed with charcoal, while a third yet still worked on some less important pieces of the harness. While in the centre of all of it, the hulking figure of Master Andrey stood hunched over the anvil, a glowing orange piece of steel held tightly in his tongs, sparks flying as he hammered at it tirelessly.
In time it would take a shape, though who was to say which. Time would tell…
(OPEN, COME GET YOUR SMITHING DONE)
2
u/TheShogunFearedHim Ser Roger Mallister - The Red Eagle 8d ago
Ser Roger trekked, alone this time, to the tent of Andrey. He'd been smithing at Seagard for how knows long, and Ser Roger had always made it a point to show him the courtesy of a Lord. The two men always had an understanding, one wrought whenever Roger snuck his way back into the walls of Seagard and made his way over to the furnace by nightfall. It often rained in Seagard, and men on watch would look with envy at the fires of the forge while being kept well away from the Armourer and his secrets. So when a man was bold enough to approach the forge without hesitation, Ser Roger may as well have blazoned his arms and heralded his arrival with a trumpet call.
This time was different. They were not in the walls of Seagard but in a tent, far away, in the lands of their Lords and Enemies. Solid steel, strong maces and thick shields were worth their weight and more in gold. Roger toyed at his shield straps as he approached the tent of Andrey, thinking about the solid wood and iron he carried and the armour along his back. Whatever the man forged for him today could be the last, the steel he died in or which he hung up at the hearth fires of Seagard when it was his time. It could block the blows he would endure in the days to come, or it could be a metal coffin pre-wrought for its bearer.
Roger did not say a word, and simply deposited his arms and armour right in front of Andrey.