[solo] a blade from the heart XI
Posted: Mon Jan 13, 2020 3:51 am
35th of Frost, 119th Year of the Age of Steel
Talon shifted the lid off of the mold into which the liquid viscerite of all his reagents had been poured. The glassy substance was a mix of green and prismatic shine as he picked up the crystal sword out of the mold. Talon held it delicately. It had the weight and heft of steel and silver but appeared nothing like the two metals. Despite that weight it would be as easy to break as a piece of glass in its current state. Bringing the viscerite blade over to his anvil, Talon rest it atop the platform watching as the aetherite began awakening. The spells woven into the makeup of the anvil immediately began setting to work preparing the aether of the viscerite for forging, sculpting, shaping and all manner of tasks that Talon had the time and skill to put it toward.
He set the mold back into its proper place in his store room then grabbed a paint brush and a jar of spellwright’s ink. His anvil rest within a purposefully made stone circle that marked the edge of where Talon would draw his runeforging pictograph. The next several days would be spent hammering, chiselling, sculpting and working the sword into its final state. He would need to spend a considerable amount of time drawing the pictograph to contain the energies that would be at play during his crafting. Getting down on his knees, Talon dipped his brush into the spellwright’s ink. The first brush stroke marked the border of his pictograph. He slowly set about tracing the edge of the stone circle with the ink in order to establish the boundary that the energies could not cross. Dipping into the ink, Talon scooted around the edge of the circle until the lines finally connected. Instead of lifting his brush however, Talon immediately went into the creation of several paths through which the energies at work within the circle would operate.
Carefully, Talon set about creating a series of mirror runes immediately within the edge of the outer border of the circle. While the outer most edge would contain any errant energy, the mirrors touching upon it would reflect those energies back into the forging process so that they could be worked without significant loss to the aether potency of his artifact. One by one, Talon created first one mirror, then another and finally another until the whole border of the circle was reinforced with a ring of mirror runes. Again, instead of lifting his brush, Talon used the last bits of the ink still on its to flow into a new path where he could connect the overall structure of the pictograph to each interlocking layer.
He painted several convergences allowing the whole structure of the pictograph to be reinforced and better equipped to handle the dispersion of energy. He took his time, building upon that which he made before instead of simply branching out to create a new section sporadically. Each portion of the elaborate pattern he was painting remained connected to the next layer. He brought together several continuum’s focusing on the necessity of them when it came to helping him shape the aether pathways that would be built in the sword. More and more as he inched his way toward the center of the stone circle, Talon concentrated on the steps of his forging, creating symbols whose purpose and intent was to enable him to better identify the properties that were now inherent in the viscerite.
Being able to acutely identify each individual property and draw it out without breaking the overall structure of the magic was crucial. This was what distinguished a runesmith’s pictographs from the general pictography of a scrivener. The scrivener focused broadly on the augmentation and manipulation of aether, generally working toward enhancing personal magic. The runesmith devoted their pictography solely to the process of runeforging. It was a subtle distinction but one that Talon had learned to differentiate. It was the same with all of the world magic schools and was why the importance lay in the prevalence of thought and the tools one used.
Finally, after what felt like several hours of working, Talon hefted himself up off of the floor to observe his handiwork. The pattern that he had drawn was elaborate. It was perhaps one of the finest that he had made to be devoted toward his runeforging. Talon felt a moment of pride that was quickly pushed aside as his legs cramped. He chuckled at himself setting the jar of spellwright’s ink on his workbench. Going to the edge of the circle he’d drawn, Talon knelt down with a groan as he touched the tips of his fingers to the circle. Gently he nudged the aether present in the aether laced spellwright’s ink into motion, awakening his symbols to the power of magic. With that, Talon took a break so that he could feed himself and drink plenty of water. The next half of his day would spent entirely focused on forging. He would need all of his strength.
As he ate a simple meal he passed the time either writing in his journal or reading through a book discussing the detailed points of jewelry crafting. Talon’s present skills lay in the shaping of weaponry and tools as a blacksmith. It was predominantly what his molds in the shop’s storeroom consisted of, weaponry and tools. He was beginning to branch out and explore making jewelry. There was utility in wearing an amulet, a bracelet or a ring as opposed to hefting around a weapon or constantly being adorned in armor. When Talon had his fill of food and felt adequately rested after his morning spent drawing his pictograph glyph, he stood up and stretched then donned his blacksmith’s apron. He slipped on a pair of elbow length fitted leather gloves, grabbed his hammers, tongs and tools, setting them within reach of his anvil.
Talon stared down at the crystal blade that rest upon his runesmithing anvil. There was a beauty to the somewhat volatile substance known as viscerite. Grabbing a pair of aura glass goggles, Talon slipped them over his head so that he could take in the full breadth of just how much work he had to do. Though outwardly mesmerising and beautiful, there was a complete lack of internal structure and focus in the interior of the blade. Every property and aspect of the reagents that he’d pieced together were mingling with each other with no purpose or order to them. It was the nature of viscerite and was what made the material so dangerous if not properly handled. It was also the reason why no runesmith in their right mind stored large amounts of it. The wrong stimuli could set off a terrible chain reaction.
“Alright. Here we go. Dragon King guide my craft. Mother of Chaos guide the tides.” Talon reached out to the two dragon gods who he resonated with the most. Picking up a hammer and a pair of tongs, Talon struck the surface of the blade’s handle. That would be the easiest area to work first. Aided by the aura glass goggles, Talon sifted through the noise of properties that did not interest him. Using the tongs he grasped the strands of aether that possessed what he was looking for. They were little more than aesthetic pathways and while others might have suggested he begin where things were hardest, it was far easier to fix an aesthetic than it was anything else. Besides, he had the shape, look and feel of the blade in his mind already. Striking the surface of the handle once more, Talon set his hammer aside and picked up what looked like a very fine tipped sculptor’s knife.
Maneuvering the handle of the blade so that he could easily manipulate the tips of the hilt, Talon brought the knife down to the edge and began to cut and shape the viscerite. Using the tongs he tugged on both the structural aether and the physical tips themselves until they looked vaguely like pointed wing tips. He then refined that into an almost claw like shape. On the surface of each tip he made small diamond shaped cuts then using a pair of jewelers forceps he took the aether linked to that design and wove it in a weblike pattern across the inner portion of the hilt wings. Finally he focused on the binding of the hilt. Slowly, Talon worked at cutting through errant aether, alternating with his knife, chisel and hammer to reshape the viscerite and restructure things as he saw them in his head.
Talon continued working patiently, diligently, and with the focus of a man completely absorbed in his work. While his shaping was largely rudimentary as he worked with the viscerite, that was of little consequence when one was molding and making impressions with aether. Combined with his skills as a blacksmith and he was fairly confident in his ability to craft the blade as he desired. When the shape of the sword handle, hilt and grip were carved out properly, Talon moved on to the blade itself. He could feel a bit of sweat beginning to bead upon his brow. While there was no direct draw upon his own personal aether when crafting, he was still being surrounded by the errant energy being cut, folded, and reshaped. Were it not for the elaborate pictography employed in runeforging, the anvil and tools themselves, he could only imagine what would have happened to his body. That didn’t prevent some physical effects from being felt. Fatigue as he worked and his body’s exposure to the flow of so much raw aethereal energy in play had a draining effect to some degree.
He began at the broad end of the blade nearest the hilt, using a combination of his sculptor’s knife to carve out the path for the viscerite to follow. He then followed that up by pounding the aether and substance into motion with his hammer and tongs, seeing to the more finite details again with either his knife, chisel or more detail oriented tools necessary to tug and pull the substance into shape. Aesthetics may have been the easier portion of the work for runesmithing, in Talon’s opinion, but it still required a clear picture of what the runesmith wanted in their mind and some ingenuity on how to do it.
It was as his clock was chiming that Talon finally looked up from his shaping work. He felt himself sway just a little bit and extended his wings so that he could balance himself. He blinked, setting down his tools and lifting the goggles from his head. He squinted and rubbed at his eyes before looking at the clock on the wall. A look of surprise crossed his face as he realized it was early evening. Turning his gaze back to the crystal blade on the anvil, Talon looked at just how far he’d gotten with its aesthetic work. The blade was shaped almost exactly as he’d seen it in his head. A little more refinement and it would be perfect. The last few steps wouldn’t take more than a few hours and he could color the blade appropriately. With a nod and a big yawn that was followed by an even bigger stretch, Talon set his tools aside. He set about locking up his shop then made his way out into the early evening of Kalzasi, his thoughts turning to the warm comfort of his brother’s tavern. He would spend a night there, that way he could begin his work as early as possible.
