The first cut is the deepest [solo]

Fri Dec 30, 2022 8:16 am

Kouga could remember the first time his father brought him to his smithy. The sweet (or at least it’s sweet for him) smell of burning wood and melting metal. Over the years it ingrained itself into his brain. He was only four years old and was more of a nuisance than help. That didn’t deter his father though. He brought Kouga with him every day from that day forward. He could remember a few times he almost fell into the hot metal. Or the fire. At first he was just instructed to operate the bellows. But it meant he could watch his father work his miracle. At least it was miracle in his eyes back then. His father would mostly make kunai and swords for the village forces, even for the ANBU. He could remember the first time his father gave his hammer in his hands. How heavy it felt. How right it felt. He was so proud, he wanted to be as great of a smith as his father.

He then was trusted with cooling the completed metal objects. At first they were heavy, and he burnt himself with the forceps more often than he cared to remember. But as he built some muscle and knowledge in the coming months it became easier. And he became more and more useful. After a while his father would let him do the whole hardening process. The hardest to learn was making the molds his father would use. Those had to be made from a stone that didn’t melt, his father would call the “will of fire”. Since it wouldn’t melt, they had to use masonry tools like hammers, splitters and wedges to make it into the form they needed.

Around this time Kouga got quite interested in using the swords he and his father were making. His father told him it was too early for him, but he would sneak out of the house and into the smithy at night to “practice” with the swords left there. One night, when Kouga was around six years old, his father got wind of this, and stopped him from going. He understood though, that there was no point in trying to keep him from it anymore, so he thought of ways to support his son.

On the next day he and his father would go to the smithy as usual. But when they got there, his father gave him some iron and charcoal, and told him to make his own sword. He then sat down in the corner and watched him work. Kouga was ecstatic. He finally could have his own sword! Did that mean his father would let him practice? His thoughts were racing. He had to calm down. This was the first time he was making a sword all by himself. He would need all his composure. He wanted this sword to be the best it can be. He started thinking what sort of sword would he want. He always thought the ones the ANBU people used were too thin and didn’t have enough range. Didn’t have enough presence. An image started to take form in his head. “Could i make a new mold, father?” – he asked. “Sure.” – came the answer from the corner. He started towards the storage in a hurry. He looked for the biggest piece of stone he could find. He looked around for more iron but realised it won’t be enough. “I think I’ll need more iron.” – he popped his head back into the workshop. His father let out a thunder of a laugh. “That’s my son.” – he said – “Always finding a way to surprise me.” With that he got up and out the door, presumably to bring the iron needed.

Kouga got to work. The sound of metal clashing on stone filled the workshop. He started from the middle and worked his way to the sides. He made the imprint as wide as the chunk of will of fire made possible. He took great care to make it deep enough as well, so the blade would be stronger. The stone was almost a meter long, which wasn’t much shorter than Kouga himself. He was gently but confidently hammering away on the wedge as it got deeper and deeper into the material. His father got back at some point, which he barely noticed. After quiet a few hours of work he finally stopped and looked at his work, then at his father. He looked proud. The mold was almost done. It was the widest cast he ever saw, got thinner at the tip and also had a thinner, rounder part at the other side: the grip. He made a few finishing touches and sit down for a bit. Damn he was tired. “Will you be even able to lift that sword?” – his father teased. “I will train until I am.” – and he was serious about it. After taking his time to catch his breath, while having a chat with his dad, he went back to work.

Next he had to create the steel that would make up the blade. Probably the easiest part of the process in his opinion. You only need to know the ratio of iron and charcoal you want to go with. And he knew exactly what he was doing. He put some wood in the furnace, lit it up, placed the ores and the charcoal on top of the fire and started using the bellows. Just like back when he first helped his father. And now here he was making his own sword. He still couldn’t belive it. As he was pumping away the furnace got hotter and hotter, but he didn’t mind. He always liked the wamth. The iron slowly started glowing, then melting, absorbing the coal into itself. He saw it every day, but it still was awe inspiring. Soon enough, the molten steel was ready, so he put on the safety gloves, picked up the rod with the bucket of hot, liquid metal at its end and made his way to the cast. He slowly, gently - since spilling it was very dangerous - poured the scorching steel into the form.

Afterwards he again had some time, since they had to wait for the metal to cool before the hardening process could be started. It was pretty early into the afternoon so he and his father decided to go home to eat. His mother has already left by the time they arrived, but they rarely got to spend lunch together, so they would have dinner as the main family meal. His father fixed them something to eat and they were back in the workshop in an hour or so.

When they got back, the steel had already cooled off and so he proceeded with his task. He first had to find two buckets big enough so that he can fit the steel into them completely. He then filled one with oil and tallow and the other with water. He took the now sword-formed chunk of metal and started heating it again. Once glowing he began shaping it into its final from with his fathers hammer. He made one side progressively thinner, giving it an edge an leaving the other duller. He also curved the steel at the tip giving it a classic single edge look, only significantly wider. Once he was done with that he heated the sword some more, then plunged it into the oil, so it would cool slowly making the steel less hard, but also less brittle. Meanwhile he put some more iron and charcoal on the furnace to make some steel for the crossguard. He would use one of his fathers molds for it. After that he heated the blade up again, waiting for it to glow and hammering away some more, so the blade would be dense enough and cooled it down again only this time with the water making the steel even harder. While waiting for the crossguards steel, he took the file and started working on the fine details of the blade with it. There were some roughness all around that needed to be addressed, as well as making the edge into one that is capable of cutting things, and finishing up the grip was important too. As he was working the sparks flying reminded him of the clear night sky outside. The quiet crackling of the furnace gave the pulse his father was humming to. The warmth of the workshop made him feel safe. Everything was so peaceful, he almost wished it could last longer. Almost, but he also wanted to have his own sword in his hands finally.

Once the crossguard was done he fitted it onto the grip. It looked so much smaller on the wide blade, but it would work fine. He only needed to heat the part where the crossguard and grip intersected, and hammer it together. And there it was. His first sword. He only hoped back then, but many more would follow.

[exit]
[twc: 1505]
claims:
-1462 towards finishing blacksmithing, already had 538 from here
-43 towards crafting Korei (43/2500)
-15 to strength stat