• Memory • [Hotlands] Scarlet Ingenuity

[Bakar]

20th of Saun, 718

The forge burned blisters into his cracked skin, but Bakar dared not cease his work. He forced the pain-tremors in his hand to still as he drove the steel deeper under the coals, and even as his skin peeled from that flaring fire, he did not shy from the scorching heat. He had little time to take this metal and sing it into a keening edge, and the consequences of delay were far greater than any mark the making of the weapon left on him.

'Either make the sword, or swallow this broken steel! The Empire approaches, and I will not be found without a weapon when they arrive!'

Bakar couldn't help but smirk as the memory a shouting soldier played idly in his mind. The way his face twisted in contempt as he waggled a shattered blade in protest. The venom clear in his command as he pushed Bakar into production. Were it not for the pain of the forge, Bakar might have cracked a smile wide enough to split his blistering lips. Asking a slave like him to summon a sword from steel, lowering himself to appear in the chained barracks, must have drove free men like him

But still, free soldiers like him always ended up in his tent. Always asking for a fresh blade after their supplied one inevitably snapped in battle. No matter how much they barked, ordered, or balked, the result was always the same. Free men, demanding goods from those they held in bondage.

And as much as it turned Bakar's soul, he would serve.

The Qi'ora kept a trained eye on the blaring flame, delighting in the music of crackling steel and whistling steam as his work progressed. Even now, even under the pressure from free soldiers, he was experimenting with style and form. He bartered with his forge and the ingot that lay inside, determining what heats and length of time could prove most effective to turn metal into a murder weapon.

It was important to him, to remember the purpose of his work. To catalogue the type of person his ingenuity would end, and to memorize how close he cut to freedom with every produced blade. Keeping in mind the stakes of his work always brought about a level of focus he found wanting in the more mundane aspects of his life. If it was just another sword, he could allow his mind to wander. If it was a weapon that would save the life of a soldier by taking another's, a keening edge to carve out his release from chains, that would demand his mind's full attention.

So he endured it all: the burns still half-formed on his peeling skin, the blistering wind from the forge as he kept the flame high and bright in the midst of Saun heat, and the barking footman who still shouted him down in his mind. All of that, all of the suffering and indignity he shouldered, it was temporary.

But freedom, freedom was like the settled steel after his shaping. Unrelenting, immutable, and with an unforgiving edge.

With a dry, humorless, smirk, Bakar took his pair of tongs and reached deep into the white-hot flames. The metal singing with heat, he removed the bright red bar from where it had nestled underneath the burning coals. Placing it carefully on the anvil kept close by, Bakar took a final look down to the near-burning metal.

With every sword he forged, he proved himself worthier and worthier of freedom. A freedom that he should have been born with. A freedom that he had deserved even before he had grasped a hammer.

But if his freedom demanded work, then Bakar would work past burns, past scars, past exhaustion, to prove that he was worthier than any of the free soldiers that ordered him at his forge.

Hammer in hand, Bakar already knew he was worthy. All he had to do was get to work, and the rest of the world would see it soon enough.

[Bakar]

21st of Saun, 718

The music of his forge mingled with the screams of the dead and dying; a scarlet symphony to match the scarlet ingenuity his hands now shaped. The steady clang of his well-worn smith's hammer clashed against the tuning pitch of his still smoldering steel. This steady patter played out without a hitch or hesitation. He had barely rested in the last trial, and he did not intend to.

Even as his skin split, even as his blood and sweat made his hands slick, he would not let the music of his making falter. As much as he detested the soldiers who demanded his work, and as much as he raged at the city which had kept him in chains for the crime of being born of the right father but the wrong mother, he would not cease. Could not cease. To do so would not only court his own death, but the death of his fellow slaves. Rarely did punishment land solely on the protestor in the army of Nashaki, and even rarer were the punishments not fatal for the men and women under the yoke of the Tower of Flesh.

Other men would break under such fierce circumstance.

Bakar was not other men.

The stress sharpened his mind, the consequence keened his skills to a fatal point. This was his edge over the free smiths, over the sons of wealthy merchants who never had to work while chained to the anvil. They crafted for the art of it, for wealth and reputation. Bakar forged for his life. It was not a matter of preference. It was a matter of survival. It had been for his whole life, and for his whole life he knew few smiths better than he. Be useful, or die.

Stakes to be sharpened by, to be sure.

His hammer continued to sing as he beat the steel bar into shape. The sword's song was matched by the yearning hiss of steam as he thrust the weapon-to-be into water. It would be a fine work by the time he was finished, Bakar was certain of it.

A finer sword than the man who would bear it, but that feat was a low bar to climb.

[Bakar]

23rd of Saun

The screams crept closer as each trial passed. Before, where the death knells of his fellows and his masters once mixed with the music of his making, they now threatened to overtake him. Bakar figured it would not be long before the Empire breached their defense. Not long before a legion of lizards, all marching in formation with glittering scales and mail, with jagged fangs and razored spears came for them.

His units commander had not yet put in the call for retreat. Why would he? Bakar and his unit were slaves. May as well have been part of the walls, as far as the Qi'ora trusted that free man's opinion.

Even still, Bakar would not stop working. If he were to be taken, to be slain, he'd rather have finished one last work than leave the sword smoldering in the forge flame. In honesty, he had little choice in the matter. Either die for desertion, die from exhaustion, or die at an enemies hand. He figured out of the three, at least exhaustion allowed him to leave something new in the world as his body passed into the old earth.

He was near finished as two breaks passed him by. He could hear the rattling of the enemies spears against their outer defenses, but even that was soon drowned out by the constant clanging of his hammer. The world, the war, all of it slipped by as he smoothed out the rough edges of the weapon. The tremors in his arms quieted as he approached the close, the burns on his arms smoothed, and the searing splits in his skin seemed to cool as the forced the final touches of the folded steel into place.

Bakar could have stayed in that moment, that second before a creation's completion, until Idalos eroded over. There was divinity in that in-between, moments of magic that a rare few ever were fortunate enough to witness.

He would have stayed frozen in that moment, were it not for the sudden that sent him sprawling to his makeshift forge's ground. Had the Ithecal already breached their walls? Was his demise already so fast approaching?

"The sword, slave! Give me the damned sword!"

Bakar's eyes raised and met his aggressor's, but he knew the make of the man as soon as his fear-soaked voice barked at him. It was the soldier. The slaver who had first ordered him into production, on the eve of the enemy's breach. The man who dogged him into exhaustion so that he might have a weapon he believed worthy of his station. He could still feel the bruises from the man's prior interaction, still feel the shock of pain from injuries earned from all the men like him.

The smith's eyes drifted down to his sword, so close to completion, then back to the man who was now raising his fist to strike him into submission. Even unfinished, the weapon was well beyond the worth of that soldier.

And he dared interrupt divinity in motion.

"Damn you! The Ithecal have breached! Give me the swor-"

Bakar had buried the blade in the man's chest before he managed to sully the weapon with another demand. The steel, still hot, screamed as it pierced through to the other side. He could see the blood boil on the blade as he wrenched it free from the now soundless soldier's ribs. Calmly, mechanically, Bakar walked back over to the anvil and beat the last bits of metal into shape. With the man's blood still soaking the blade, he quenched the screaming metal in cold water. Examining the weapon as he ripped it out of the water, he admired the now ruby coloration that the steel had taken on as the blood's color fused to the metal.

The sword complete, Bakar moved to join his company's retreat from their encampment. He paused only to look down at the now dead form of the slaver. Just one more corpse added to this war's growing collection. He doubted anyone would even notice the soldier was missing, with all the casualties they would endure today.

Satisfied with his work and the weapon's edge, the Qi'ora grabbed his tools, and with sword in hand he went to join the Nashaki's retreat. Looking down at the scarlet-stained sword in his hand, Bakar couldn't help but smirk. The soldier would be forgotten, but the steel would not. A fine weapon, quenched in the heartsblood of a slaver.

The first of many, if Bakar had his way.

[Pig Boy]

Player Name: Bakar

Points awarded: 10
Magic xp: none

Knowledge:

Smithing: x 5
Endurance: x1

Renown: 0
Loot: Scarlet-stained steel longsword
Injuries/Overstepping: Forge burns, exhaustion, bruises.
Wealth Points: n/a

Skill Review: All Skills used appropriately to PC's level. I would have definitely included either meditation or discipline, perhaps both, as skills used as Bakar had to ignore some quite significant distractions during the forging. While that could be a function of endurance, it really is more about discipline. Just something to bear in mind for future threads.

Notes: Heya, before I get to the review portion I need to touch base with you about the way you're converting numbered knowledge to flavor knowledge. Normally what we do is we request specific flavor-text knowledges in the review request if that's what we want. Otherwise the knowledge gets numbered. I can understand however if you'd prefer knowledge that's written out properly, however. So could you pop up a ticket on the PSF with any knowledge you've converted from numbered? It won't be a huge fuss, just tag me in the request and I'll convert them for you there. So you'll have something to point to if another reviewer asks about it.

Otherwise, in the future if flavor text knowledge is what you want, please do request those in the review request? Thanks!

That out of the way, I very much enjoyed the backdrop of forging weapons during a pitched battle against the Eternal Empire. It made it that much more suspenseful, as the failure to perform or produce meant more than just a flogging or corporal punishment.

The thought process of Bakar was fascinating to read about here, as he reflected on the differing fortunes of the slaves of Nashaki and the free people of the state. I thought in particular the comparison of his own worthiness vs that of those who'd enjoyed freedom from birth, simply by virtue of who they were born from, was a poignant moment in the narrative.

Which makes the payoff of stabbing the man with the sword he was meant to forge for him all the more effective, and it was cool that the red blood kind of sank into the color of the steel. It's a nice keepsake for Bakar, for sure.

Great writing, and enjoy the rewards. Don't forget to post up a ticket on the PSF for that knowledge conversion! And in the future do request flavor knowledge if that's what you'd like!

If you have any questions, comments, or concerns regarding this review, feel free to PM. Enjoy your rewards!