Tyraro Srevim's Story

Through the market, the sound of a hammer striking metal rang like music. The rhythm of the strikes echoed like that of a drum.

The being who was striking the red hot metal was not what most outsiders would expect. It was a skinny man, no more than 24, with eyes the color of ice, and hair that could barely be seen. His arms and face showed evidence of many burns, to which many who knew little about him often speculated their cause.

The small smithery that he stood in was no larger than three normal shops. The large smelter gave off a distinct glow of heat, while the forge, little more than an open pit of coals, kept many unformed blades red. In a trough, on the opposite side of the exposed room, was water in which many blades were cooled. Next to the trough was the anvil, where the man was crafting the weapon. On the walls not far from the forge, yet enough to be bearable, was the weapons which the smith sold. All had something novel about them. Some were curved blades, some attached on the forearm, some did both. And with each weapon came a tag that showed its price, reasonable, but a bit on the low side.

The blade formed slowly in the man's grasp, having been worked on since little after midnight. It was an armblade, with a distinct, and difficult to make, talon-like tip to it. Once the final parts of the talon were finished, the red blade met water to release a horde of steam. Next was a piece of leather to act as the bracer to hold the piece on. At that, the smith stood proud, his creation simple and sturdy. Only thing left to do with it was sharpen the blade.

As Srevim worked hard at his forge, the grindstone making a grating noise like fingernails on a slate, a tall woman in leathers watched him work, leaning against a post. Syrania had seen this man's work, and she though it might be useful to own something made by this unique craftsman.

She was going hunting today, so now was the best time to commission a weapon. She wondered if this man could craft bows, if he couldn't, it didn't matter much, as she knew how to make basic repairs and could commission another bowmaker. What she really wanted was arrows.

She waited until he was done sharpening, and called out 'Ho!'

At the end of his sharpening of the blade, Tyraro turned at the sound of another person. He quickly set the current piece down on the table, looking at the half-elf with his scared face and eyes that looked as if the iris was frozen. He studied her quick, noting the elf-like figure and skin. She had no look like she would be wielding anything bigger than a short-sword any time soon.

"Is there something you would like, mam? I have some pre-made pieces over by the forge. If you would like me to make something specific, just ask." Tyraro said, in a professional manner that proved he had a level of experience in salesmanship, but was not the best at it. He would keep looking at Syrania until she spoke.

The half-elf walked over to the bench, examining it for ranged weapons. Finding none, she asked 'Do you make arrows? Bows? If not, could you make arrowheads? You seem to be a type who would make interesting arrows.' It was not often that unusual arrows like this were made, but they were often useful, each fulfilling a different function in the hunt.

After this, her eyes wandered back to the bench-top; found there were all manner of melee weapons, such as claws, short-swords, longswords, hooks, and many others beyond belief.

"I can't make a bow, I don't have any of the metals that would be good for that. However, I do have some stiffer light metals on hand that could make blades on the sides of bows, or arrow heads. There isn't a lot of it, so if you would mind waiting a few weeks, I could have a bow, arrowheads, and 'bowblades' made. Or if you want them by the end of today, I can make the arrowheads or bowblades." Tyraro said to the half-elf, after a quick check to his stack of ingots.

'Yes, well, I would be interested in reinforcements for my current bow in the future. Until then, however, what types of arrow head can you make?' Said the half elf. Seeing a few members of the blood tithe run past, she decided to join the blood tithe as well. It would be a good income, and maybe a good experience.

Tyraro pulled up a small piece of charcoal. He then proceeded to draw a bident with hooks coming out of all sides, and then another that looked like two of the bidents set at a 90 degree angle from each other. "I can make either of those, or something you might have specifically in mind." Tyraro said to Syrania while pointing to the two drawings.