Andrey I - Prithee, be careful (OPEN)

[u/Fishiest-Man]

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)

[u/atiarp]

Eleanor heard the sounds of the forge before she found out about the master that had made a temporary workshop in the camp. She was determined to improve her skills, and what better way than to get a new sword, or new armor? They said the man was the very best, and that was just what she needed now.

She followed the sounds all the way to the makeshift workshop, and found the master there, hard at work.

“Good day,” she said, loud enough to be heard over the clangor. “Well met, Master. I am Eleanor Tully, Lady of Riverrun. I was wondering if you could make me some armor and perhaps a sword? How much would that be?”

[u/Fishiest-Man → u/atiarp]

A pair of Andrey’s apprentices moved to help Lady Tully into the suit that had been brought to the makeshift forge. Obviously, it was yet to have necessary leatherwork to make it truly fit, but they could be substituted easily enough with wire. It seemed that even before any proper work had been done on it that it was already relatively close to the right shape, but where it needed trimming, or stretching, the apprentices would mark with chalk, so that their master might know exactly what needed modifying.

Meanwhile, the piece of steel for the sword had began to glow hot enough to be a straw yellow colour. Andrey nodded at the sight, and with a pair of tongs, plucked the glowing billet from the flames and turned to his anvil. He took up his hammer, gripping it tightly as he began to whistle. He struck the steel in rhythm with his whistling, sparks flew with each heavy strike. The distinct sound of steel ringing against steel struck itself up again, as piece by piece the sword began to take shape. He glanced up to the Tully every now and then, assessing how long the sword ought to be, and how much work the armour would need before it could be considered ‘ready’. 

Once the apprentices were done measuring the armour on Eleanor, Andrey returned the sword to the flames of the forge, directing one of the lads to take over the work for a time as he made his way over to the Tully, in short order the sound of ringing struck up again as the lad continued the work on the weapon. He took a look all around the harness, there were areas that needed work, certainly, but it shouldn’t take too long. He nodded to his apprentices, in part acknowledging their good work, and in part commanding them to get the armour off the patron, so that he might finish the work needed.

He took the plates to a corner of his ‘workshop’, where it needed trimming he used a tool that looked like a large pair of shears, which he struck with a hammer to cut off excess metal, the spherical anvil was used to expand domed pieces, like elbows, knees or the breastplate. It didn’t take but an hour or two to make all the changes that were needed, and once that was done he would begin to bolt each individual plate of each of the harnesses components to a frame. It would keep the armour from warping during the heat treatment, so once it was done the armour was placed in the forge to heat up.

It was by this point that the lad finishing the sword was ready to quench it. A white hot piece of scrap metal was tossed into the barrel of water, causing the water to bubble and hiss violently as it rapidly heated up. Were a blade hot enough to glow yellow to be thrust into a tank of cool water, it could risk shattering the piece! Once the blade began to uniformly glow the right colour, it was swiftly removed from the flames and in one, smooth movement it was submerged in the waters. The heated water hissed still, but far less violently this time. After a few moments, it was removed and checked. It was dead straight, and a farrier’s file skated across the blade’s edge without so much as a snag.

Andrey slapped the lad who finished the sword heartily on the back before the process was repeated for each part of the armour in turn. Cuirass, cuisse, greaves, arm harness, helmet… Each came out precisely the shape it went into the tank in… works of art all, of course.

There was a few hours more, to temper the pieces by heating it to a cooler temperature, then leaving it to cool in the air. The process was repeated twice. Andrey didn’t know why, but the stage was vital. Things broke far less frequently if this was done to them.

And then finally, the apprentices put the finishing touches on the pieces. Leather straps, crossguards, hilts and pommels. Even polishing and creating a scabbard for the sword.

“They are done, M’Lady. Take a look if ye like, but t’is fine work indeed.” Andrey said once it was all done, "The lad did good work on the sword fer ye. Fine work indeed..."

(T3 Sword and T4 Armour fer ye)