Personal Quest Hammer and Forge
Repairing an old forge for Tristan’s smithy.
Tristan Cadfáel
Blacksmith / Mercenary

Age: 28 | Height: 6’ 7” | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 0 - Strg: 12 - Dext: 8 - Endr: 10 - Luck: 5
Played by: Sparrow Offline
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Posts: 13
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#1
tristan
It was warm despite the autumn season, but a cool breeze drifted through the remains of the shops in the settlement. Tristan allowed his gaze to roam the abandoned structures, his hands shoved into his coat pockets as he chewed thoughtfully on his lower lip. Any one of these places could work, but none of them were right for what he was wanting.

A smithy. He nearly laughed at the thought. Oh, if only his parents could see him now. Tristan Cadfáel, proprietor of a blacksmith and amateur sell sword.

Of course, he needed to build a smithy first, and the first step in achieving that would be making up his mind and picking out one of these ramshackle remains to work with. They were in tact, for the most part; both wood and stone buildings left behind from a bygone age. Still not versed on the history of this land, Tristan didn’t know /what/ had happened to reduce this land to such a state nor did he know why the people were stuck within an impenetrable dome, but alas. One thing at a time. Business first, then leisure.

Breaking away from his slouched position propped against an abandoned shop, the brunette straightened up and then began to pick his way down the path, blue eyes looking over every building he passed with keen scrutiny. He ignored the ones made of wood; they would do nothing save catch fire once he got a forge or smelter going. It was the stone buildings that caught his eye more than anything, and as he progressed, one in particular caused the man to halt in his tracks.

The stone building was worn smooth from age, the stones a myriad of pale greys and browns with what looked like an outside shop tucked to the left of it, beneath a stone outcropping roof held upright by a support column. Further investigation revealed a front door that needed replaced as it was no longer there, a moderately sized interior that seemed to hold its structure despite the years of neglect, and to Tristan’s genuine surprise and luck, beneath the stone outcrop next to the building proved to be what was once upon a time a forge. Nestled in the weeds nearby, partially hidden by overgrowth and entangled in a nasty ensnare of briars was an old, overturned anvil and an assortment of old tools.

Excitement and disbelief both pooled in his gut. There was no way he could have gotten so lucky. Had this, years ago, once been a blacksmith? The forge itself was overgrown with weeds and other plantlife, the stones needing replaced, but as he looked around Tristan could already see promise. A little bit of muscle, time, and care, and this could really be an efficient smithy.

He took a moment, making a mental checklist. The interior of the building needed cleaned, and a new door would need to be built. Details could come later. Outside they would need to repair the stonework of the forge, as well as build a workbench and clean up the anvil itself. Tristan let out a haggard breath, already knowing the workload that awaited him. Hopefully Deimos would keep his word on offering assistance to get the smithy up and running, and maybe they could rope in a few other helpful individuals as well.



This thread is for Tristan’s PQ to make a blacksmith in the Settlement. He has picked out a building to fix up and just needs some assistance to do so.

1. Deimos
2. Remi

Deimos Ignatius
the Resurrected Sword
Militia General of the Hollowed Grounds / Guildmaster

Age: 26 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 8 - Strg: 28 - Dext: 28 - Endr: 33 - Luck: 27
ZURIEL - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
Played by: Heather Offline
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Posts: 1,618
MP:
#2

Deimos the Reaper
You can't take back the cards you've dealt on this
long and lonely road to hell
the throne must be such a sad and lonely place

The Reaper was many things: naturally, inherently flawed, prone to action rather than eloquence, and damned, consigned to oblivion throughout several lives. However, he also had several virtues, including adamant determination, a strange sense of integrity, and the ability to keep his word (what few he ever proclaimed). At one point it had earned him comrades in arms, fellow citizens baring the same knives, daggers, and cutlasses at his side, akin to friendship in a world now since lost. Presently, it served him as he roamed down the street, another callous, ominous omen, intending to honor his proposal. It wasn’t entirely out of charity – his calculations had been simple: the faster the blacksmith was created and forged, the quicker he’d be able to get his hands on quality weapons. In his occupation, they were a necessity, a lifeline, quick and sudden, abrupt and apathetic, indifferent and nonchalant – a living, breathing, extension of his efforts and designs.

Another stone building had been selected. Deimos wasn’t entirely surprised; there seemed to be ample supply of rock and ruin around the area, and it would be wise to use the most available resources. It must’ve been used in the past for similar motives, as it had an adequate structure, merely fallen to lack of use and disrepair. It was a challenge, but hardly a Herculean task – his muscles, brawn, and intellect would serve to complete the necessities. In vigilant silence, his hands dug into one of the many pockets of his trench coat and snagged a favored item, some delicate blue cloth that he made no mention of to anyone else, worn and faded in some of the corners, and used it to tie back the longer strands of his hair. Only thereafter did he realize no words had come out of his mouth, no greeting, no salutations extended towards the owner, Tristan, who stood amidst the rabble with obvious scrutiny laced along his features. So the warrior shrugged, and proffered his services again with the same gruff overtones, no fanciful discourse, no warm greetings, equipped for exploits and feats. “Where should we start?”


Photo and Table by Time
Photo taken at Hero's Square in Budapest, Hungary
Remi Taliesin
Alchemist
Portal Guardian
Age: 24 | Height: 5'11 | Race: Attuned x Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 10 - Strg: 32 - Dext: 30 - Endr: 34 - Luck: 31
ISLA - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
Played by: Odd Offline
Change author:
Posts: 4,930
MP:
#3

Remi too had selected a stone building for his shop, and so as Tristan meandered and milled about deciding whether or not the current building would be suitable for his purposes, the alchemist took notice. Having opened all the windows to properly air out the stale scent, the sound of the man huffing (basically) next door caught his attention.

Wiping hands stained with dirt and charcoal (weren’t they always) on his pale shirt (and a good amount on his face, giving Remi an all together charmingly haggard looking appearance), Remi grabbed a rag (obviously too late), and made his way outside. Shielding his eyes against the sun, he noted the hulking figure of Deimos was apparently once again offering up his services for trade.

With a buoyant and boyish smile, Remi departed his own shop (which was still very much in need of much sprucing up before he’d ever declare himself ope for business, and instead went to see if the man (err, men) next door might be in need of another set of hands.

No possessor of brute strength as Deimos was, Remi was nonetheless quite dexterous and handy. Though perhaps his most relevant trait was simply his willingness to lend a hand.

”Hallo.” He called out, his accent both melodious and bright as he proferred a stained-hand in greeting as well as a sunny smile. “I believe you said your name was Tristan? “ Remi ventured, believing he had heard the man say as much at the recent meeting Ronin had called. “I could not happen but see you –“ Pointing next door to an open window, Remi smiled awkwardly and ran a hand through his curls. “I started my own shop just there you see. Could you use a hand getting yourself settled here?”

remi
Every now and then the things I lean on lose their meaning
And I find myself careening in places where I should not let me go
Speaks with an Italian accent.

Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Let me know if you want to kill him and we can chat.

Magical Items for sale in the wagon: Drinkable Sea-Cup | A cup that transmutes saltwater from the ocean into drinking water. Works one-cup at a time. Full-Smokes | A packet of cigarettes, where each cigarette when smoked counts as a full meal. Clawed-Ring | A ring that when used created claws on the wearer's hand.
Tristan Cadfáel
Blacksmith / Mercenary

Age: 28 | Height: 6’ 7” | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 0 - Strg: 12 - Dext: 8 - Endr: 10 - Luck: 5
Played by: Sparrow Offline
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Posts: 13
MP:
#4
tristan
It wasn’t long until words were kept, much to his relief.

Crouched down beside the anvil and digging carefully through the bramble to reach the tools tossed haphazardly upon the earth, Tristan could hear but not see Deimos’ approach. He paused when the stoic man was practically upon him and grinned, slowly moving to stand and brushing his hands off on the worn fabric of his pants. Clearly this man was an individual of no-nonsense, a trait that he had immediately assumed upon their first meeting. It was both admirable and a little intimidating, due to the brunette’s gentle-hearted nature.

Regardless, Deimos had offered his assistance, and there was no way in his right mind that he would pass it up. “Ah, thank you again,” he stated once more, that warm, boyish grin still upon his lips and sincerity shining in his eyes, “I appreciate your help. Now, let’s see…” Turning on his heel, he made to list off the things that immediately needed tended to, but the words died on his tongue as another greeting rang out. It was Remi, the alchemist from the meeting. Tristan’s earnest smile remained as the tinkerer approached, and he gave a nod, his expression open and sincere as he listened to the man speak.

The brunette’s gaze drifted to the shop in mention, then he chuckled softly and focused crisp blue eyes on the other man. As he spoke, Tristan reached out and took hold of Remi’s hand in a firm shake. “Yes, that’s me. And you’re Remi, if I remember right?” It seemed that they would be neighbors, if they could get the smithy up and running… Judging by Remi’s kind eye and genuine expression, Tristan was perfectly alright with that.

“Hands would be much appreciated, friend,” he stated, stepping back and rubbing his hands together as he began to think it all over, absently chewing at his lip once more, “Thank you both for helping out a stranger. Now, let’s see… I’ve looked around a bit. There’s quite a bit to be done.” Reaching out with his foot, Tristan pressed the toe of his boot against the weathered remains of the old forge. “We need to clear away this overgrowth and reinforce the forge here to replace some of the stonework, clean out the inside of the shop… Maybe get a new door in place, and a work bench for out here.”

There was a lot more than that, but he felt hesitant to ask for more. Remi and Deimos were already kind enough to offer their time and strengths to help him out, and Tristan was never one to take advantage of someone else’s kindness. This was no different. It wasn’t how he had been raised. Everything else? He could handle on his own.

With a wolfish grin, the brunette dug around in his pockets and pulled out a worn pair of leather work gloves. Slipping them on, he nodded, intending to begin by pulling up the brambles and overgrown weeds dominating the work yard. “Let’s get started, then.”

---

Things needing to be done: Find stone to reinforce the forge/clean up the work yard surrounding the forge, clean out the inside of the shop/repair the door, and either make/gather materials for a suitable workbench.

Remi Taliesin
Alchemist
Portal Guardian
Age: 24 | Height: 5'11 | Race: Attuned x Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 10 - Strg: 32 - Dext: 30 - Endr: 34 - Luck: 31
ISLA - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
Played by: Odd Offline
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Posts: 4,930
MP:
#5

Accepting Tristan's hand, Remi returned the shake heartily, his own palms well-calloused and muscled from all the writing that he did. Deimos hadn't been particularly chatty when he'd come along to assist the alchemist, and chalking this up to a personality preference of the man, Remi merely offered him a smile and a nod, his easy countenance not needing to try and make awkward small-talk when it wasn't required. Once upon a time Remi could hardly shake hands with another man, so repressed were his sexual desires. However here in this new world (and owing a great deal to a few key interactions in the one he'd just come from), the alchemist was able to breeze through this interaction without his normal brand of awkwardness when it came to physical contact. Though it felt rather strange, Remi was able to hold Tristan's ever-blue stare and offer him a buoyant smile.

Given that once again Deimos seemed to be the stronger, Remi opted for more technical work as he had done when the pair had worked on his own shop. "I can work on the door, and clean up once everything has been moved about." The alchemist offered instantly, his eyes wafting over the frame as his head tilted slightly to the side. Already lost in a world of measurements and calculations, the alchemist moved passed the two men and ran his hands along the framework. Opening and closing the door which was currently in place (and finding it quite lacking), Remi twitched his lips slightly.

Glancing over his shoulder (his eyes falling on Tristan just a moment too long before moving along again) Remi departed the group and began to walk down the street. There were plenty of ramshackle shops here, many which still had perfectly useful doors. The alchemist grabbed a rock and began to work to unhinge one such door that seemed to be in particularly good shape. He'd try and remove it and then bring it back to Tristan's shop. If it didn't immediately fit, he'd work to make the necessary adjustments to make it so.

remi
Every now and then the things I lean on lose their meaning
And I find myself careening in places where I should not let me go
Speaks with an Italian accent.

Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Let me know if you want to kill him and we can chat.

Magical Items for sale in the wagon: Drinkable Sea-Cup | A cup that transmutes saltwater from the ocean into drinking water. Works one-cup at a time. Full-Smokes | A packet of cigarettes, where each cigarette when smoked counts as a full meal. Clawed-Ring | A ring that when used created claws on the wearer's hand.
Deimos Ignatius
the Resurrected Sword
Militia General of the Hollowed Grounds / Guildmaster

Age: 26 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 8 - Strg: 28 - Dext: 28 - Endr: 33 - Luck: 27
ZURIEL - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
Played by: Heather Offline
Change author:
Posts: 1,618
MP:
#6

Deimos the Reaper
You can't take back the cards you've dealt on this
long and lonely road to hell
the throne must be such a sad and lonely place

Tristan reminded him of his fellow soldiers, back at war camps, boyish and eager, fervent and wild, and it slowly put the unreachable beast at ease; it was comfortable, rather than vexed or tortured. He could understand the ardency, and the savagery, beneath mischief and impishness; knew very well in the flaw of underestimating grins and well-wishers. He’d been one of them once – crowded around campfires, laughing and mocking friends, gathering tall tales and seeing how far each of them could stretch the fixtures, boasting about former glories, pretending they didn’t miss home. They’d lived for glory and died in reigns of terror, changed and altered, sculpted and shaped beyond repair, and it took Deimos a moment to remember where he was – not crushed into battlefields, not protecting an ally, not laying a friend down on his shield, but proffering assistance so he could gain access to a world he’d only recently left, a kingdom he could comprehend.

Remi appeared then too, and the soldier almost made some note about the shop nearby, but he could merely lift his eyes and see how it was coming along – from a quiet, keen, observational standpoint, it seemed fresher, more restored, from the outside. He presumed most of the termites and squirrels had vacated the scene, and he bobbed his head towards the alchemist with a slight smile sketched on one side of his mouth.

Then the motives and objectives fell into place, and the meticulous waves of his schemes emerged. Remi claimed the door and cleaning arrangements, and Tristan had gone for the overgrowth – leaving Deimos in a position of gathering materials to reinforce the forge and replace missing stones. This was fine – it didn’t require many calculations, just sheer brawn and muscle, strength and fortitude; and he accepted the duty with another firm, quick, nod, and set his gaze upon the underlying rubble.

His movements were light, quiet, despite his massive size; years spent hunting down enemies and adversaries had been engrained into his motions. There was no need for savagery or upheaval upon a measure of rocks and wood, but it was almost innate now, to maneuver as an intimidating faction – his stalking skills easily overcame the stones tucked along the outside of the shop. He grabbed ahold of a few harder, heavier rocks, carrying them steadily into the shop, then went outside again to snag several more. When he thought the amount was sufficient, he did the same as he’d done in Remi’s shop, plying the materials towards columns that required some aid in their cumbersome load, or piecing together waylaid holes, pressing the rocks into place until the sun no longer shown its way through. The cretin even thought ahead and attempted to bring in some more stones and bits of wood for the foretold bench – leaving them directly outside the door when he’d accomplished his current task.

{Deimos has gone about gathering rocks and wood to reinforce/replace stones in the forge. He also grabbed a few more for the bench.}


Photo and Table by Time
Photo taken at Hero's Square in Budapest, Hungary
Tristan Cadfáel
Blacksmith / Mercenary

Age: 28 | Height: 6’ 7” | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 0 - Strg: 12 - Dext: 8 - Endr: 10 - Luck: 5
Played by: Sparrow Offline
Change author:
Posts: 13
MP:
#7
tristan
Everyone broke off to attend to their self-assigned tasks, and Tristan momentarily watched both Deimos and Remi get to it with a thankful glance. If not for their kindness and resourcefulness, the brunette knew that cleaning up this shop and turning it into something productive and useful would be far more difficult. Somehow, someway, he would pay them back for their assistance. That was thought for another time, however, as for now Tristan knew he would have his hands full removing these horrid brambles and weeds from about the shop yard.

The lingering anvil lay just beyond his reach, as though it had been knocked over and pushed to the side with a great deal of force. He wondered, briefly, what had happened to this place to cause so many homes and shops to have been abandoned. It was a reminder that the history of this world was elusive, but one of these days the man would take a few days to really brush up on the vast lore he was surely missing.

Tugging at the leather gloves on his hands once more to ensure they were on all the way, the man knelt back down between the decrepit old bench and the forge and reached out, grasping the sharp, overgrown bramble bushes in his hands with a grimace. He pulled at the mess, the sharp thorns seeming to snatch and hold onto each other stubbornly, but they came loose after a few moments. Removing the harsh vines free from the entanglement, he set the splaying branches aside and repeated the process, grabbing, pulling, and uprooting the brambles one by one until they were cast into a pile to the side and well out of Deimos’ way.

Bracing himself, then, Tristan dug his fingers into the sides of the anvil and dragged it from its hidden nook with a grunt of effort, the sound of tempered iron on stonework grating to the ears. Eventually he pulled the anvil far enough out to give it a thorough examination. It was stained with oil, soot, dirt, and seemed to be coated with a buildup of grime from exposure to the elements, but it would work and just needed a good cleaning. Lucky him. Turning his attention back to the nook, he reached next for the old tools, pulling them out to attempt to see if they were salvageable or not. Some could be salvaged but others would need to be repaired, and Tristan cursed beneath his breath. Well then.

For Deimos, fitting the stone would be simple enough in repairing and strengthening the forge walls. With the plethora of rubble and debris around the reclaimed shop, various shapes and sizes of masonry would be easy to find… But with more and more stones worked into the frame of the forge, the whole structure seemed to sink, as though the very dirt and stone beneath the forge were too weak to maintain the additional weight. Perhaps some reinforcement for the cobblestone ground would be in order?

Unfortunately for Remi, the repossessed door would be just a few inches too large, both tall and wide for the door to the blacksmith shop. Perhaps with a few alterations, however, it would fit just right, and give the hardiness of the acquired wood, the material would hold up well to any revisions that needed to be made.

---

With the brambles removed, Tristan now needs to clean the anvil and repair some of the tools gathered. The ground beneath the forge Deimos is repairing seems unsteady and somehow needs reinforced, and the door found by Remi is in need of alterations in order to work effectively.

Also, holy moly I’m so sorry this is so late, you two! <3

Remi Taliesin
Alchemist
Portal Guardian
Age: 24 | Height: 5'11 | Race: Attuned x Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 10 - Strg: 32 - Dext: 30 - Endr: 34 - Luck: 31
ISLA - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
Played by: Odd Offline
Change author:
Posts: 4,930
MP:
#8

The door was not the right size, but honestly Remi would have been surprised if it was. Nothing around here seemed particularly standardized. He'd had to make alterations to his own doors and windows and even the lock most recently (that had required a bit of magic, but Remi thought he could probably sort this out himself).

Creating a small piece of chalk, Remi made several markings on the door as he lined it up with the frame. Humming softly to himself, he picked up the door and went out into the yard where a saw-horse had already been set up. Glancing around for a saw to use (this took a few minutes), the alchemist located one and went back to his project. Now Remi was no real carpenter, but he was studious and clever. Using several rocks to hold the door in place, Remi dexterously sawed through the wood where he had made his markings. Measure twice cut once they said, but Remi would prefer just to do everything only once, albeit quite diligently.

Twitching his lips from side to side as he moved the blade back and forth, Remi proceeded carefully but quickly to ensure that his cuts were straight and not jagged. Confident that he'd cut to his specifications, the alchemist lifted the door off of the stands and moved back towards the frame. If it proved that he'd made the right calculations, he would create two metal hinges for the door to sit against and began to actually fit the door properly into the frame.

remi
Every now and then the things I lean on lose their meaning
And I find myself careening in places where I should not let me go
Speaks with an Italian accent.

Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Let me know if you want to kill him and we can chat.

Magical Items for sale in the wagon: Drinkable Sea-Cup | A cup that transmutes saltwater from the ocean into drinking water. Works one-cup at a time. Full-Smokes | A packet of cigarettes, where each cigarette when smoked counts as a full meal. Clawed-Ring | A ring that when used created claws on the wearer's hand.
Deimos Ignatius
the Resurrected Sword
Militia General of the Hollowed Grounds / Guildmaster

Age: 26 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 8 - Strg: 28 - Dext: 28 - Endr: 33 - Luck: 27
ZURIEL - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
Played by: Heather Offline
Change author:
Posts: 1,618
MP:
#9

Deimos the Reaper
You can't take back the cards you've dealt on this
long and lonely road to hell
the throne must be such a sad and lonely place

He wasn’t surprised when things didn’t quite go according to plan – were the world not full of trials and tribulations, the earth would be full of the inept, the ignorant, and the naïve. It would be nice if something were to go right for a change, but the soldier didn’t beg, plead, or long for the notion – just a passing thought as his efforts had been for naught.

He watched the pieces he’d gathered slowly begin to sink; the floor no longer strong enough to support the rubble and ruin he’d brought in. The Reaper had merely presumed, hadn’t thought ahead to the layers beneath the blacksmith fixtures, and now would have to backtrack to get anything remotely accomplished. He’d been too quick, too hasty, quite unlike his usual methodical, meticulous intentions. Perhaps this just went to show why his purposes, methods, and means were deliberate, calculated, and precise; they tended to fall apart around him otherwise. The beast muffled a sigh, and took some of the stones off the tier, carrying them outside with him as he surveyed the ground. It wasn’t one of the most resilient looking grounds; sagging with the burden of too many things. Perhaps time had worn away its strength, or a lack of enduring stability had simply caused it to buckle under the pressure, eroded with the passing of decades and days.

He eyed the rocks he’d brought with him, then grabbed ahold of a few, trying to position them beneath the languishing ends of the structure, turning and twisting them in various directions to surmise some notion of it being level too, so they wouldn’t have the same issue in the near future. Reconstruction and repair was always a necessity, but it didn’t need to be so soon, so quickly. Deimos repeated the gesture several more times, walking back into the forge to grab ahold of a few more stones, for there were many others nearby, and he could replace them later.

{Deimos attempts to take the stones out of the forge and put them within the cobblestone ground to reinforce it.}


Photo and Table by Time
Photo taken at Hero's Square in Budapest, Hungary


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