Date: Some early evening in the space between 9-13-797 and 9-18-797 ------- Location: Silver Street Wagonyard, Wagonwright & Farrier
It is a typically chilly early evening in Saint Loomis, and the brisk air blows in through the wooden gate leading into Otty Smythe's utilitarian shack. The crisp breeze might lend some solace to anyone standing near the heat of the forge, where the coal glows red-hot, and the air ripples like melted parchment.
The familiar tink, tink, tink of metal striking metal can be heard from the farrier's workshop. There is often a rhythm to the work, a steady pattern as metal takes shape, allowing the noise to blend into the gentle daily hum of life in Saint Loomis.
But on this brisk day the sounds are unusual -- more erratic. In between hammering, there's a stretch where a series of dings and the ringing of metal sound distinctly out of place.
(Yasin): Anyone peeking into the shack would find Yasin standing at the anvil, his expression focused and determined. A number of tools are arrayed out in front of him, some cast aside in frustration. His current attention is fixed on a small metal 'bowl' that he shakes lightly in his hand. As he shakes it, the ringing sound emerges again. It jingles, one might say.
Yet, for some reason, the young man wears a disappointed frown on his face and a thoughtful furrow to his brow.
(Ziyad): The sharp rap of knuckles knocking against wood sounds from the direction of the gate, followed by the shorter form of Ziyad walking through to approach Yasin. "Good evening, Yasin," he greets, smiling warming even as his eyes sweep across the collection of implements. His gaze lingers a bit longer on the concave piece of metal than the rest. "I see that you've already started experimenting. Have you already settled on which technique produces the result that you prefer?" A quick scan of Yasin's expression causes the young scholar's smile to twist wryly. "Perhaps not..."
(Yasin): As though answering for him, Yasin shakes the 'bowl' in his hand a single time, producing a dull 'ding'. Nevertheless, his disappointed frown evens out a little as he sets his unfinished work back down onto his workspace.
"Ahh.... good evening, Ziyad. Partially... but not exactly," he admits to Ziyad with a sigh, speaking in thickly-accented Ilexi for the benefit of any locals that might be nearby. The young man clasps his hands behind his back and straightens his posture, a crackle of tension released as he stretches out his back.
"I ended up taking Ighlaf's suggestion, and I have had some success producing this shape," he gestures to the bowl, "in one of Otty's swage blocks." He gestures with a hand towards the aforementioned steel cast blocks, a rigid structure with various small concave depressions. "I had to use a lighter touch and a lighter tool than my hammer due to the thin material. So, a portion of the problem solved." His lips pull into a smile as he regards the incomplete 'bell', before looking back to Ziyad.
"But ah, my next task is to complete the... bell, and I think I'm going about that the wrong way." He gestures to another half-sphere that lies nearby, some tiny rivets and tiny holes punched in their edges. Next to it lies a more completed 'sphere', if it can be called that. It looks as though it was once a bell that had gotten into a battle with a hammer and lost; it is now a misshapen, metallic mass, or mess.
"I think the material is too thin for me to join the two halves afterwards. I need a... single piece that comes together as I shape it. But that requires a pattern to follow, on my metallic... canvas." He gestures towards some of his thin iron 'sheets', then rolls his shoulders, releasing another 'pop' of tension.
(Ighlaf): Lingering in the doorway observing a moment , Ighlaf steps into the workshop. "Hello."
They peer at one of the attempts. "Was joining halves with rivets less than ideal?"
(Yasin): Yasin turns his head towards Ighlaf, dips his head, and admits in a sheepish tone of voice, "It...ah..." He reaches over to pick up the misshapen mass and frowns at it.
"I think I needed a... much lighter touch," he says with a sigh. "I got a bit frustrated after this and decided to try something else. Maybe worth trying again?"
Remembering, perhaps, that greetings are in fact a thing, he finally says, "And, hello, Ighlaf." His lips finally curve away from that frown he's had as he says, "Good evening."
(Ziyad): Ziyad similarly turns towards Ighlaf and offers a warm smile in response, "Good evening, Ighlaf." He gestures at the misshapen mass of metal. "So the rivet idea was yours? It's a good one. I was thinking along similar lines. Alternatively, boring holes around the two edges and using metal wire or hooks for fastening. Another thought was bringing the edges together and bending a metal band around the halves tightly enough to keep both clamped in place, but that would be the least secure method..."
Turning back to Yasin, the scholar asks curiously, "Was a spherical shape one of the requirements given? I was wondering about that while trying to come up with potential designs. Open bottom bells would be much easier to shape and produce. Most only require a single sheet of metal aside from the clapper inside."
(Otty): The towering, bearded blacksmith had been, as is somewhat his habit, puttering about in the background cleaning up and putting things to their proper places, organizing his workspace almost fussily, except that surely no one would describe someone so very tall and so very gruff and with such a very magnificent beard who works with large hammers and hot metal and huge animals as being "fussy," right?
Upon Ziyad's and Ighlaf's entrance, he offers each a grunt and a nod by way of greeting, seeming familiar enough with their presence in the shed by now not to bother himself with being overly formal, or perhaps only not feeling particularly talkative today. He does, though, tread over toward the anvil in apparent curiosity at the conversation, folding massive arms over his chest as he eyes those bits of metal with a furrowed brow as Yasin speaks. It's blatant eavesdropping, but maybe the fact that they're speaking in Ilexi is taken for an invitation.
(Ighlaf): Ighlaf has an amused smile at that belated greeting. They begin to become absorbed looking at Yasin's efforts, returning a nod back to Otty. They eventually reply to Ziyad, "My thoughts were hammering a shape with a swage block of different round sizes."
After several moments of thought they add, "Akin to the petals of a flower, but we are encouraging this 'flower' to close. Although the design and how..." they trail off
(Yasin): Yasin's eyes flit to Ziyad at first, at his examination and questions. That simple question from Ziyad about the requirements seems to provoke a sheepish response from Yasin, and he averts his eyes briefly -- looking to the various half-finished pieces of metal.
"No," he admits, followed by a nervous, breathy chuckle. "But these aren't meant to be rung by hand." He makes a gesture with his hand, as though he were holding a bell and, well, jingling it. "They're meant to hang from the garlands, on say a... strap. Of leather, for example. And when they shake as the wind blows, they're to ring out, so that the town may hear." That sheepish expression in the young man's face fades into something faintly fond as he speaks.
"Lucy implied that clappers weren't typically used for these." He turns over one of the incomplete spheres, overturns it, and out falls a little metal 'pellet' into his outstretched hand. He hands the pellet over to Ziyad. "...But that was there my head went first, too. But with a closed surface, ah, I thought... no matter which way the wind blows, it'll rock the pellet against the side of the bell, and make some noise."
"But, your point, Ziyad..." He flits his eyes from the young scholar towards Otty, to whom he gives a nod, clearly welcoming the eavesdropping, and then turns to Ighlaf. "...and Ighlaf's point are, I think, similar. A single sheet of metal would be easier. I hadn't thought of it as a flower before, but something that I can hammer closed, yes. Or, almost closed." He smiles to Ighlaf. "The design is the trick." He taps an iron sheet, blank. "...Not sorted, yet."
(Ziyad): "Interesting," Ziyad murmurs softly after Yasin's explanation. He stays silent, consumed by his thoughts for a moment, although he does dip his head respectfully in acknowledgement to Otty's approach. "A bell with a clapper will still ring in the breeze if you make them of the proper size, but we'd definitely want to go with a style that better fits what she expects. But if a true sphere's not necessary, then I'd still suggest a single sheet of metal..." He gestures to Ighlaf and also voices his own agreement. "Where you can fold some parts of the sheet to close the opening rather than try to line up and adhere a completely separate piece to it. It sounds like you already understand what's meant by that."
(Yasin): Yasin listens to Ziyad's words, nodding his head slowly. As Ziyad begins to gesture to Ighlaf, and speak of the single sheet of metal, those nods start to become a little more emphatic. The young apprentice lowers his hand towards the thin sheet of iron and traces a callused thumb along invisible lines there.
"I think, Ziyad, I ah, maybe... have been focusing on this the wrong way," he admits. "Preoccupied with the shape and making it 'perfect' instead of what's necessary." He prods his finger against the sheet of metal. "It needs to be small, it needs to be enclosed except for some portion to let the sound escape, it needs to contain either a clapper or something like this..." His other hand fidgets with another one of those metal pellets. "...and it needs a strap so that Lucy can hang them where she likes."
He reaches into his scribing case and pulls out a silver-nibbed maroon glass pen. He dips the pen in ink, hunches over the iron sheet, and seems about to draw when he stops himself.
The young man looks to Ighlaf and hands over his pen. "May I request your assistance?" He asks. "I need something... this size." He makes a rough circular gesture on the iron sheet. "With four corners. Like you said. A flower, almost."
(Otty): "Why's Lucy telling you this, lad?" Otty asks, cocking a bushy brow Yasin's way with some question perhaps more complex than the one he verbalized implicit. "Can do what Master Ferrot's saying, yes. Only make the spikes of the star bigger, and curve them in." He removes one hand from his arms' fold over his chest, pointing vaguely to the anvil and the previous attempts there, then shrugs.
(Ziyad): The corners of Ziyad's lips lift upwards in amusement at Yasin's admission of perfectionism, deepening even more when even Otty chimes in on the side of simplicity. "There's nothing wrong with making the best bells that you can, Yasin. It's unfortunate that timing makes achieving that much more difficult." He reaches into his mizuda to withdraw a very familiar tool, which he holds out to Ighlaf alongside Yasin's own offering. "Would you like to use my caliper to ensure that everything's spaced symmetrically?"
(Ighlaf): Failing to withhold their own amusement while listening, Ighlaf takes the pen, then the offered caliper with a murmured, "Thank you." They rifle amongst their things to take a sheet of parchment out, a sheet that already has some sketches that look like flower buds and blooms. Ighlaf gestures over the page with the pen, "These aren't the right shape, as most buds are more oblong."
Flipping the page over, Ighlaf sketches out a bell shape, using the calipers for the 'corners.' They pause in thought then and take out an entire new sheet of paper and sketch out a bell unfolded, murmuring, "I've no idea if the sides would match, but more a leaf shape then petal." the four corner sides looking angular. This sketch, they set on the nearby crate and begin to cut out adding slight notches to some portions, "How's this look?" handing it over to Yasin. "Paper doesn't ah...bend well, so I cut it to help it along."
(Yasin): Is that a look of chagrin on Yasin's face at the rather simple question from Otty? Well... perhaps embarrassment is the word. Or at least, there's some redness that appears in the young man's already reddish-tawny face as he looks from Otty, to Ziyad, to Ighlaf, and back to his half-successful attempts.
But. After a few moments of the young man's moment of quiet reflection, he says, "I think... you all are correct." Yasin focuses his attention on Ighlaf's sketching. Once the shape is cut-out he lifts it up from the crate, examining it. He's quiet for several moments before his lips curve to a grin, and he begins to carefully bend the paper inward along the corners until the 'bell' shape is formed.
"I can make this," he declares, nodding to Ighlaf, though sweeping his gaze to include Ziyad and Otty as well. He flattens out the shape and places it atop one of his iron sheets, retrieves the pen back from Ighlaf, and begins to trace an outline of the shape upon his metal sheet. While tracing, he murmurs, "Heat this, carve it out, then fold it lightly using the swage for guiding the curvature..." He blinks a few times, and says in a surprised tone of voice, "...This... just became... easy."
(Ziyad): "You could always try to add a few intricate bells at the end if you have a great deal of time after finishing the bulk of the order," Ziyad suggests helpfully. He takes a step backwards to give Yasin some space to work on the new iteration of the bell design. While the smith's only tracing on sheet metal for now with the help of Ighlaf's guide, Ziyad already watching very intent in anticipation of observing the steps to follow. "Or after the end of the appointed day, should you still want to test out other designs for personal enjoyment."
(Yasin): Yasin keeps his eyes fixed on the sheet as he carefully traces the outline, though he responds to Ziyad's words with a quiet, "Just like any of my... projects, I intend to learn from this and experiment further, yes." His jaw tightens slightly as he works, and after a few moments, he finishes the outline. Nodding in satisfaction, he sets down his writing tools and the 'stencil.'
He leans in to study the iron sheet, tilting it on its side to examine its thickness. "I'll want to soften it and make it workable," he murmurs, reaching for his tongs. Gripping the sheet firmly, he carries it over to the forge and places it into the glowing coals, allowing the metal to warm and soften.
When the iron is ready, Yasin returns to his workspace and lays the sheet flat. With a hammer in one hand and a chisel in the other, he begins to carve out the pattern. The process is slow and methodical -- placing the chisel just so and striking it hard with the hammer. Gradually, strike by strike, the design starts to separate from the sheet.
(GM): OOC: Yasin just rolled finesse and smithing, coming up with 41.
(GM): OOC: The scene fades to black.