1628, Earth Season
Shortly after recovering the armour, Finarvi goes to learn about repairing it. Session SA3.08.
Some might say that the day after a major feast is too early to be working, but about an hour after Yelm has started to pick out the palace in sunlight, while the valleys still know dim dawn light, there is a messenger for Finarvi. The doorman reports that a redsmith is free today.
As is his custom, Finarvi has been out with the horses at first light, and has not been long back at the house of Varanis. If he’s surprised to be called on so early, he doesn’t show it.
The messenger says, “Anything you need for the morning, bring with you. I am at your device for the day.” She probably meant ‘service’ but her Tradetalk is imperfect.
The pieces of armour are already safely packed, and Finarvi spends a little time making sure he has the few other things he needs. He spares a brief pang of regret at his familiar tools, safely back in Apple Lane. But he’s observed a sense of urgency surrounding the armour and it’s restoration. He’s glad for the offer of well-equipped help.
The walk to the other side of the city lets Yelm warm him. The messenger directs them to the Street of the Redsmiths, where there are three large shops and many minor ones. The large shop closest to the palace has an open door with a rope across it. The messenger calls in, “Faradar?” And then, “I have you another redsmith.”
A bulky man comes to take the rope off a hook. “Come in,” he orders.
Finarvi enters, his eyes taking in the shop with lively professional interest.
It is a place for making big things. Anvil-stones for forming shapes are embedded in the ground, and trade tools are neatly beside them. This man probably works with apprentices, but apparently nobody is here today. “You’ve got a broken piece?” he suggests. His voice is short, but his expression indicates his temper is placid.
“Two, but the cuirass is the challenge,” Finarvi replies, and begins to open the bundle to reveal the recovered armour.
Faradar looks, and nods. “Going to rebuild it completely?” He suggests.
“That was my thought, but I am eager to hear a more experienced opinion,” he offers respectfully.
“If you want to keep the gem setting, you could do an ugly-join,” he suggests. “I think recasting is the way, though. That’s cast shape, not hammerwork, just with the edges turned over for the gems. Hell to do.” He wanders over to a wall to pull down a half-finished example. “It’s old-fashioned, that.”1GM admits, “I am totally making this up, by the way.”
Finarvi studies the example piece with curiosity. “There is a helm too, that needs its crest restored. It was made battleworthy but the repair is not pretty.”
“Let’s have a look.” Faradar points out a couple of parts of the piece of metal he pulled down. It’s a big round plate, with ridges in it for inlay, but in an oddly unfinished state. His big fingers show a cleaned area, and a few bits of embedded glass. “Practice piece.”
Finarvi lays the helm and the broken crest on the table. The buckles he leaves in the pack for the time being.
“Mm. Beating job, and new rivets,” he says. “That’s a shape problem.”
The helmet looks like hell. Corroded at the repair, it is filthy. The breastplate, in two pieces, still gleams.
Finarvi looks at the redsmith expectantly. “What do you know about this armour? I take it the Palace told you something of what to expect?”
There’s a nod. “Old bronze. Treat it with respect.” But he mutters a spell over the helmet, and rubs with his finger. “Solid underneath. You’ll want to placate the godbone – too many dead.”
“I do not know the rites,” Finarvi admits. “This is not something I have attempted before, and this armour is too important.”
“That, I can teach any follower of Gustbran,” comes the reply. “It’s best if you know the burial rites of those who died in it, and the Heroquest this was used in.”
“I can ask about the hero quest,” he muses. “Gustbran? I do not think we know him in the Grazelands.”
“You know him by another name if you are a redsmith. The furnace god.” The one that helped him with the greaves, then.
“Ah.” Encountered, but not known by that name.
The day is spent mostly in instruction, both in magic, and in how to beg corrosion to release metal, which is another of Gustbran’s secrets, although not one that he likes to use – the surface of the helmet is cleaned, and the only deep damage turns out to be where metal was already split, and that will be covered by rivets. It will be a few days of reshaping and hardening a cast crestpiece, but the helmet will be good to wear soon.
- 1GM admits, “I am totally making this up, by the way.”