Ravens of Eternity

110 Master Bladesmith

A short and stout Drogar with rippling muscles and a large gut stood in front of an anvil. Although his facial spines were long and a little droopy, his scales were still taut on his body.

In one hand, he held a long bar with a glowing slab of metal at one end, which he laid down in the middle of the anvil. In his other hand was a small metal hammer that looked incredibly well-worn.

He adjusted the glowing slab and tapped it a couple of times with his hammer. The moment he moved his hammer away, the assistant by his side brought his two-handed sledge down on the glowing slab.

As the assistant struck it, the bladesmith adjusted the slab back and forth, left and right, centimeter by centimeter. Sparks and flecks of blackened metal fell away with each and every hit.

And at the same time, he kept his assistant’s pace by tapping lightly on the anvil with his hammer.

The rhythm of their strikes resonated with each other and produced an earthy beat. The pings of metal hitting metal echoed all throughout the shop itself, and filled every corner.





As time slowly drew on, the glowing slab dulled more and more, until the bright orange had reduced to something far duller. The bladesmith signaled his assistant to stop with a three-tap pattern, then lifted the slab up to inspect it.

He then made a few corrective strikes of his own then shoved it back into the forge behind him. A small display on the side showed the temperature, which he adjusted before he blasted the slab with absurd heat.

It only took moments for it to return to a bright glow.

.....

The bladesmith quickly brought it back to the anvil, where he directed his assistant to flatten it. The two of them worked together and slowly made the slab thinner and longer. And everytime it cooled down too much, the bladesmith would fire it back up again in his forge.

They repeated this until the whole thing was one long and relatively thin rectangle.

At which point, the two of them shaped and folded it over like a book, then cut it off from the rod it was attached to.

With a pair of heavy-duty tongs, the assistant grabbed another sheet of metal. It was equally as long as the folded one, and a little bit wider. He blasted this to a different temperature, and this too took only moments for it to glow.

The bladesmith attached the rod to the glowing sheet, then slid it in between the two folds. Once he was happy with the placement, he turned it on its side and started to hammer the three layers flat.

After he was good with the overall shape, he tapped the sheet, then the anvil twice. And this signaled his assistant to help him further flatten the sheet. And once again, the two of them worked together to smooth out the sheet and further refine the blade.

Their hammer pings echoed all throughout and continued their concerto in between blasts of heat.

And once they had produced the exact curved shape of a Drogar beltknife, the bladesmith stopped their collaboration and pored over the blade’s profile. As he did so, his assistant put down his striking sledge and went off to mix the next batch of blade metals.

After having looked over their work, the bladesmith fired up the blade once again, though he used a slightly lower temperature. It didn’t look quite as bright as before, but it didn’t need to.

All he did was hammer it lightly in various places as his only goal was to perfect the lines that were already there. Every strike he made was careful and precise and further refined the blade.

He only had to heat it up and strike it with his hammer a few more times until he was satisfied.

When he was absolutely happy with it, he heated up the blade one more time to a dull orange and cut off the rod that held it. He then smoothed what was left into the knife’s tang, then picked it up with the heavy tongs and pored over all of its lines.
Everything was in good shape – the curvature was almost at the right angle, the width and thickness tapered flawlessly, and the metal was ready to be ground down into a razor-sharp edge.

The only thing that was off was that it bent to the left ever so slightly. But that was to be expected.

Although it wasn’t glowing any longer, it was still incredibly hot to the touch and was still relatively soft. So he put it in between a long vice-grip and pressed the blade straight.

He left it to cool down for the rest of the cycle, then turned towards the four in the corner of his shop. They had been watching him and his assistant work for some time with wide eyes and rapt attention.

His smile turned broad the moment he recognized the jade Drogar before him.

“Severas,” he said. “How’ve you been? Here to check on your fifth?”

“I’m good, Master Alevos,” she replied. “I don’t mind taking a look, but I’m here mostly because of these two humans. They were curious about beltknife craftsmanship, and thought about you.”

Alevos was taken slightly aback. These were the first humans he had ever seen in person. They didn’t look as fierce as he had been led to believe. In fact, they looked a little small to him.

“Humans, huh? So what’s the story there?”

“Ah, it’s a whole thing Retholis is into. I think he’s started to make his play.”

“You think he’s aiming for Imperator?”

Severas nodded solemnly.

“And I think he’s gonna succeed,” she said.

“That’ll definitely be a sight. He’s got some crazy opposition, no matter what though.”

“It’s fine as long as he doesn’t overreach.”

Alevos glanced at the two humans in his shop from the corner of his eye, and grinned.

“I think it’s too late for that,” he said. “So. What do you two humans think of my shop?”

“I think what you do is fascinating,” said Miko. “I do not know much about smithing, but your techniques appear very similar to ours.”

“Honestly, I’m kinda surprised you’re still using a hammer,” added Eva. “I mean, don’t get me wrong – what you’re doing is amazing. It just also looks incredibly difficult. I imagine you could just throw a bunch of ingredients in some machine and have it print out a knife. Certainly would make life easier on your shoulder there.”

Alevos laughed heartily. Somehow this human had noticed the kink in his hammering technique. He had used the same technique hundreds of thousands of times, and it wore down on his shoulder over time.

Just as he wore down metal with every strike, so too did his own body.

“Well that’s certainly true,” he replied. “Printing weaponry is easy to do these days, heavens know. Even for big, complicated guns. Nanite printers make them easy to design and build. But there’s also no individuality to them. No soul.”

“Makes sense. Mass producing weapons for the battlefield isn’t the same as designing a custom knife. But can’t you still make intricate designs and print them out?”

Alevos chortled with a little consternation.

“What a feisty little human,” he said. “To be honest a great many knifemakers do print out their designs. They’re certainly beautiful and unique. I can’t fight you there.”

“So why do it the clearly slow and hard and presumably more expensive way?”

The blademaster thought about it for a moment, and stroked the spines on his chin as he did so.

“Have either of you ever sharpened a blade of any kind?” he asked.

Eva and Miko shook their heads.

“Well, alright. Hmm. Have either of you ever done anything over and over again until you perfected that thing? Or at least came as close as you possibly could?”

That was something Eva could immediately relate to, and so she nodded. She was the type to constantly practice doing the things she was interested in. She recalled times when she pushed her body to the limits as she ingrained certain moves and maneuvers into her muscles.

She used to feel a bit weird about it, since most everyone around her wasn’t as obsessive about practicing like that. But doing so truly refined her skills and made her a top notch pilot. Basically, she worked hard to be unbeatable, and she no longer felt weird about it.

Instead, she began to wonder why others didn’t go to such lengths themselves. Winning was easy – all it took was a mindless, obsessive mentality combined with relentless training and boundless determination.

“I’m changing my answer,” she said. “I definitely keep myself sharp. Constantly.”

Alevos grinned widely.

“Then you know why I do what I do,” he said. “Why I spend countless hours breaking myself just to shape metal. Why I choose to go the slow and hard and definitely more expensive way.”

Eva nodded with complete understanding.

“Your blades represent drive,” she said. “Of its owner, of its creator, of the Drogar as a whole.”

“Exactly! Sure, all those printed knives look great, and they do symbolize us Drogar. Heavens, I’ll even go so far as to say they’re necessary. Their affordability means every single one of us can have one. After all, a Drogar without a blade is completely unfathomable.

“But for me, those of us who pour ourselves into our blades – we help keep the soul of the Drogar deeply embedded within the metal itself. It’s our knives that well and truly define what a Drogar is, you know what I mean?”

“I do, definitely,” Eva said resolutely. “Hell, I’m not a knife person, but even I would wear one of yours. Would you make one for me? Is it even possible for me to own a Drogar knife?”

Being the arbiter of Drogar law, Severas immediately jumped in.

“It’s not illegal,” she said, “or at least, there aren’t any laws that forbid you from ordering and owning a custom beltknife. But I’m sure many will find offense to a human wielding one of our blades. A few might even come to the conclusion that you killed a Drogar for it, and try to right that perceived wrong. I don’t suggest you get one. It will most definitely invite trouble.”

“What if it was straight?” Eva countered. “Since every Drogar carries a curved one, then they couldn’t automatically assume that what I’m wearing is a beltknife, right? Last thing I wanna do is offend anyone, especially when I’m trying to honor your traditions instead.”

This struck a chord in Severas. To think that a human wanted to honor Drogar culture. She had certainly never heard of this before.

“You really want a beltknife, huh?” she asked.

“It really speaks to me,” Eva answered.

“Alright, before I say yes to anyone,” said Alevos, “I need to know how you’re gonna pay for it.”