Satisfied
By me (shadow9119)
By me (shadow9119)
Riaz was losing his weapon-making edge. Had he been in a better mood, he probably would have laughed heartily at the pun. But Riaz was not in a better mood. In fact, his current mood was very foul indeed.
The last few weapons that he’d smithed just hadn’t felt right. He couldn’t put his finger on exactly what was wrong, but he wasn’t pleased with any of his work.
Still, it wasn't like he could just quit. Being a blacksmith was Riaz's livelihood, so if he didn't keep working he wouldn't make any money. He pushed the axe he had just finished to one side and set out a new strip of metal. Maybe the next sword he made would break him out of his funk. He looked over the strip of metal closely, then took a step back and looked at it from a distance. It was important to the Flamegator that he look at his projects from every angle. He'd use that to form a vision in his head of what to make.
No ideas came to mind immediately, but Riaz pushed forward. He lit the fire of his forge and pumped air in to get the flames' heat just right. Once he was happy with it, he donned his thick gloves and grabbed the metal with his tongs.
The heat from the metal was comforting to the Flamegator, and as usual he found himself mesmerized by the way it glowed. He was almost tempted to reach out and touch it, but although he was technically fireproof, he didn't want to risk it. Once the strip of metal was heated evenly, Riaz carefully transferred it over to his anvil.
There was a spread of tools on the workbench to his left, and the first he picked up was the hammer. The muscles in his arms rippled under his fur as he beat the metal into shape. To an outsider the clanging noise would probably be deafening, but Riaz had been doing this for long enough that he was able to tune it out. So much so that he easily heard the chime of the doorbell as someone walked into the forgery. He nodded silently at the father and son who had entered, watching them from the corner of his eye.
They were two Makoatls, and Riaz listened in on their conversation as he worked. He couldn't help but notice that the younger Mako's blue eyes were fixed on the sword Riaz was making, and the Flamegator stifled a smile.
"Emrick, come look at this," the older Mako called. "I want you to look carefully at all of these. It's important we get you something you can use now that you stay home by yourself."
Ah, a weapon of self-defense. Riaz hammered away thoughtfully, lost in his thoughts. The two Makos browsed for a while longer before Riaz broke out of his thoughts. He'd let his mind and instincts do most of the work, and when he looked down the sword had come out smaller than he'd originally intended. Small enough even for a child...
"Hey kid, do ya wanna try this one?" Riaz asked, his voice gruff. He carefully cooled the sword off and made it safe as the young Mako and his father approached.
"Grip it tightly, like this."
"You can take it, Emrick. Does it feel good in your hand?" the older Mako asked. Emrick nodded, turning the blade over and admiring it. Riaz nodded in approval.
"I sell ya that one," he said to the older Mako. "It'll fit his needs just fine. He'll grow out of it eventually though."
The older Mako nodded, and Riaz finished wrapping some leather around the hilt while the money was counted. The two Makoatls thanked him and left, leaving him leaning against his workbench. That sword had been perfect, and Riaz felt a weight lift from his shoulders.
For the first time in a while, Riaz was satisfied with his work.
The last few weapons that he’d smithed just hadn’t felt right. He couldn’t put his finger on exactly what was wrong, but he wasn’t pleased with any of his work.
Still, it wasn't like he could just quit. Being a blacksmith was Riaz's livelihood, so if he didn't keep working he wouldn't make any money. He pushed the axe he had just finished to one side and set out a new strip of metal. Maybe the next sword he made would break him out of his funk. He looked over the strip of metal closely, then took a step back and looked at it from a distance. It was important to the Flamegator that he look at his projects from every angle. He'd use that to form a vision in his head of what to make.
No ideas came to mind immediately, but Riaz pushed forward. He lit the fire of his forge and pumped air in to get the flames' heat just right. Once he was happy with it, he donned his thick gloves and grabbed the metal with his tongs.
The heat from the metal was comforting to the Flamegator, and as usual he found himself mesmerized by the way it glowed. He was almost tempted to reach out and touch it, but although he was technically fireproof, he didn't want to risk it. Once the strip of metal was heated evenly, Riaz carefully transferred it over to his anvil.
There was a spread of tools on the workbench to his left, and the first he picked up was the hammer. The muscles in his arms rippled under his fur as he beat the metal into shape. To an outsider the clanging noise would probably be deafening, but Riaz had been doing this for long enough that he was able to tune it out. So much so that he easily heard the chime of the doorbell as someone walked into the forgery. He nodded silently at the father and son who had entered, watching them from the corner of his eye.
They were two Makoatls, and Riaz listened in on their conversation as he worked. He couldn't help but notice that the younger Mako's blue eyes were fixed on the sword Riaz was making, and the Flamegator stifled a smile.
"Emrick, come look at this," the older Mako called. "I want you to look carefully at all of these. It's important we get you something you can use now that you stay home by yourself."
Ah, a weapon of self-defense. Riaz hammered away thoughtfully, lost in his thoughts. The two Makos browsed for a while longer before Riaz broke out of his thoughts. He'd let his mind and instincts do most of the work, and when he looked down the sword had come out smaller than he'd originally intended. Small enough even for a child...
"Hey kid, do ya wanna try this one?" Riaz asked, his voice gruff. He carefully cooled the sword off and made it safe as the young Mako and his father approached.
"Grip it tightly, like this."
"You can take it, Emrick. Does it feel good in your hand?" the older Mako asked. Emrick nodded, turning the blade over and admiring it. Riaz nodded in approval.
"I sell ya that one," he said to the older Mako. "It'll fit his needs just fine. He'll grow out of it eventually though."
The older Mako nodded, and Riaz finished wrapping some leather around the hilt while the money was counted. The two Makoatls thanked him and left, leaving him leaning against his workbench. That sword had been perfect, and Riaz felt a weight lift from his shoulders.
For the first time in a while, Riaz was satisfied with his work.