Searching For Fire

[Minajerie]

S'yer heaved a weary breath. He didn't mind chores- they were the backbone of any society- but he missed his home- his hearth. Sure, washing dishes wouldn't set him on fire, but it did get him wet sometimes, and that wasn't exactly pleasant either. He may not be overly fond of the heat from a forge, but he was used to it. What he was fond of was what he could do with the forge. He loved working with metal.

Perhaps it was because of these feelings that he wandered the lower caverns after his chore duty was done, instead of heading back to the make shift weyrling barracks. He knew Perilth was still asleep because the nag had yet to, well, nag him. He knew the bronze meant well, he just wanted his rider to be all a bronze rider should be... but S'yer didn't care much for socializing, didn't mind what he wore as long as it was clean and presentable. He didn't mind about people's station or rank. He showed everyone a proper amount of respect- except for the Weyrwoman and Weyrling Master. They needed extra.

The mystery as to why he managed to pull a bronze was beyond his comprehension. Perhaps it was his affinity with metals? And bronze was such an interesting one in its raw state... His mind went down the path of proper heating procedure and the techniques of cooling and shaping the metal in his mind. He was so engrossed that he almost passed by an open door that spilled the uneven flickering light of a fire... almost.

He stopped and looked inside not too surprised to find a make shift tannery there. He stepped inside and just... soaked up the atmosphere. Ahhh, the heat brought back memories.

[panther]

Kalyr had a vat of oil bubbling vigorously over the hot fire he’d made down there for himself. He was stretching a width of leathers, pushing it out, and stretching it, flattening it, and pulling it, the leather had been warmed to make it more supple, but it cooled quickly, but the oil, that he would apply would change the colour and the strength of the leather. It would make it totally durable, and perfect for saddles.

He worked on, hammer and tong. Then a shadow graced his door, he wiped his brow and looked out, hands all filth and much from leaver and oil, he squinted, trying to make out who it was who was standing in the doorway.

“Ah, S’yer right? Bronze Weyrling?” He asked, “I can’t stop right now, but you’re welcome in.” He rubbed a concoction of something odd smelling onto the leather, and stirred the oil quickly, the oil was nearly hot enough, and the leather was almost ready. “You’ll have to mind yourself in here though, I’m not the cleanest of workers. It’s a messy craft.” He shrugged and carried on stretching out the leather and making it generally workable.

[Minajerie]

"Yes." S'yer started a bit when he was talked too, lost as he was in memories. His attention was drawn to the tanner, and curiosity pushed him to take another step into the room. He had never watched a tanner work, and from the looks of the large room he would have to agree with the man's statement- it was messy. Of course, metal smithing wasn't all that clean either- most the time he was half covered in soot and sweat. But, like any true worker of a craft, there was order amidst the chaos.

S'yer stepped carefully around a few things, and positioned himself to the side of the tanner. Not directly beside- no, he would be in the man's way. He was more to the side of the fire, closer to the heat than was comfortable, but not to the point were he would burn himself. He stood silently and watched. His placement good for an observatory view.

[panther]

Kalyr moved with a familiar grace – though still slightly awkward with overlong limbs. He placed on some leather mitts, deeply stained by various things, and a strong metal serving spoon , and scooped out some of the almost tar like liquid from inside, he carried it, trying not to drop any, despite the fact he was wearing a rather well beaten apron. He poured some onto the flat, fluffed side of the leather, taking a sharp blade, moved the liquid about until he managed to get a fair coat over the entire piece, and scrpaed the material tight and down, smoothing it, and strengthening it with the heat and the oil and the tough movements.

He coughed, clearing his throat of the oil’s mild fumes, He glanced sideways at S’yer, the boy was used to a fire then. He sat too close not to be used to such a warmth. “What trade did you keep S’yer? Before Weyrling and Candidate obviously. You’re well used to a fire.” He noted, leaving the oil to cool on the surface, sitting down beside S’yer as he pulled his gloves off and threw them on the side, careful not to be anywhere near the setting leather.

“I’m Kalyr by the way, Journeyman tanner, was sent here to help out after the hurricane, I’m the on who’ll be making the straps for you guys, got a rake of ‘em done already actually” He thumbed a direction towards a pile of knots and arches over in the corner, not one more or less distinguishable from another where they sat. “But that’s probably a fifth of what I’m yet to do, managed to run out of tanned leather to, so I got to make my own.” He stretched, “Haven’t had to do that for about a turn – makes a nice change though" He spoke, even if S'yer listened or not, it was nice to see a face. Just some one human some on other than Zar to keep him company.

[Minajerie]

S'yer watched in silent concentration. He enjoyed learning new things, even if it wasn't about metal-craft, and the way the man moved was simply enthralling. He was quick and efficient, proving that he had done this many times before. When he was finished with what he was doing and came to sit beside S'yer, the bronze weyrling scooched over a little to give him room.

He looked into the fire and then glanced back at the tanner. "I have an understanding with the element, yes. I was, technically, a journeyman smith. I was close to my mastery though, and was happy for the change of scenery when I came here. I heard the hurricane hit this area badly, and figured even if I didn't impress I could still be of use." He shrugged. "But apparently there was a reason behind the green landing so suddenly and then sticking her head into my shop. I was meant to impress."

S'yer nodded to the man. "It's nice to meet you, Kalyr. I'd introduce myself, but you already know who I am it seems." He glanced at the finished straps and then at the hide he was working on. "With so much to do, I'm surprised you don't have a helper of some sort."

[panther]

“Ah,” He smiled, so S’yer was familiar with the heat, “Then I am glad not to be alone in my endevours” He smiled and extended a hand in greeting, “IT’s good to meet you S’yer, Journeyman smith.” He grinned wildly, “Yeah, I’m not too close to my masters. But I’m good enough to cope with things like this, I’ve got about three turns probably before I’m even considered master level. I’m too fresh at this.” He informed the bronze weyrling. “Oh yes, and no doubt Dark moon will avail of you – there’s a fair number of things that need fixing and mending, anyone with a skill is premium right about now.” He nodded as S’yer told him of the random green landing, “Well Fate is as Fate does. I’m happy to have gotten to see a hatching though, but with the rate of progress here? I’ll be here even long after the next hatching,” He sighed. “You done well S’yer, sometimes it’s just meant to be, you were born for your bronze, Same as I’m born to Tan.” He smiled, and shifted himself up catching two pairs of tongs he raised the leather up, hanging it quite neatly above the work top, securing I there with four pegs, he sat back down.

“Hmm? Help? I do, technically, there are three of us here, but Jormandir seems to be constantly at the hold for supplies, when I’m in need of none, and our last party member has found himself working over hard at another hold, leaving me to do this work. Besides, Jormir’s a traditional tanner, he’s better with shoes and small leatherwork. Practical leatherwork’s not his forte. But still a pair of hands makes a job half as heavy.” Kalyr shrugged, “I feel like it’s a task that will never be finished with, but I’ll get there, and a good day’s honest work never killed no man.” He smiled gratefully, he enjoyed what he done, but he did miss his lingering with runners. They were where his interest lied truly, he expected he’d be in the Runnercraft if not the Tannery.

[Minajerie]

S'yer grasped the man's hand and gave it a firm shake. He nodded as the tanner informed him of a few things. "Well, it's good that I won't have to worry about being bored. And I must say, I rather enjoy the fact that you can talk so animatedly while still doing your work. Most often, I'm too preoccupied to respond to people while I work, though, I can listen just fine." He watched as he shifted the leather and pegged it up. This was all fascinating.

"That's rather too bad. Another person always seem to make the work go by faster,even if they only help a little or sometimes not at all, the time seems lighter- almost like it wasn't all work. I may not talk much while working, but I enjoyed listening to my neighbor.... he's a blue rider now, the one whose dragon got a chomp outta his hide. He's a likable sort, good fellow, loves gossip a tad too much, and it loves him. He'd talk my ear off all day long if he hadn't work of his own." The young bronze weyrling shrugged and sighed as if to say, 'what can you do?'

[panther]

“Mmmm, Sorry about the talking thing, I’ve got this thing, in my head, where there’s like a constant narration going on, my thoughts buzz around quicker than buzzwings!” He laughed, “Sorry, I’m just kinda fuzzy on the ‘human contact’ thing, I’ve been wound up in this room now for ooooh, about ten, maybe eleven hours. The heat plays with your mind. And besides, this stuffs my bread’n’butter, there’s nothing tricky about it, I could do it with my hands tied behind my back and with one eye closed.” He smirke. Using the blunter side of his knife, he scraped across his palm – seemingly scratching an itch, before he pulled the leather back down and began tracing out lines and cut patterns, all from memory, Kalyr was a good joruneyman, he was swift and thorough, but he had a jaw on him that could move a million miles a minute when he wanted to.

“Mm, what can I say, he’s not the guy I would have picked to go on this expedition” He smiled with resignation, shaking his head as he hung the leathers back up to dry some more, his knife thrown, skittering across the worktop. “Mmm, well you both done well then, both impressed, and you to a bronze, sheesh that must have been a real good time for you! I mean Congrats, you deserve it, you sound like a hard worker. And One thing I resent? Is a guy who gets power but does nothing to deserve it. You? Don’t seem to fall into that category I’m pleased to say S’yer!” He smiled and went idly about rubbing a deeper stain from his hands. He frowned when it didn’t rub off to easy. This was the reason his hands were almost torn to shred. The reason they were hard, and calloused and tough beyond his years. He frowned still, he hated that fact.

“Ah, I know his type too,” Refering to the blue rider friend, “They’re always good lads, but they can’t quite keep their mouth shut for long enough for you to consider liking them when their quiet.” He chuckled to himself. He stocked the flames under the pot, and pulled another leather hide from the pile in the corner. He repeated the procedure. Scraping it down of excess, stretching it, and moulding it, until it was roughly uniform. He poured on the thick oil, and spread it evenly, hanging the hide about a foot behind the other one.

“So c’mon then S’yer, while that’s drying, tell me about metalcrafting, I heard that it’s a lot different, a lot more strenuous on the muscles. Prefer riding? Or what?” He was a curious lad. He always had been, he liked to know everyone, and everything, it made for a better joke, for a better time, for a better means of living. And it appeared, he would be living here for a rather long while to come. So he may aswell make himself comfortable.

[Minajerie]

S'yer frowned and lightly scratched the side of his jaw. "There's no need for you to apologize. I was merely making an observation. Each person is different, there's no need to apologize for it." He shrugged and frowned again. He listened to the tanner's chatter companionably. He rather enjoyed the difference from what had become the norm for him.

When he noticed Kalyr rubbing at his stained hands he perked ap a bit, as if remembering something-which he had. He searched his belt pouches for a vial which- after some shifting about and some metal bits falling to the floor with ringing sounds- he found. "Here, this helps rather well with stained hands. It's citrus juice." S'yer offered the bottle with a rather tight smile- he was still a tad new at the facial expression.

"I thank you for the compliment. Though, I suppose the truth with those who actually earn power sometimes don't know how to handle it. But I am trying to learn." His mouth twitched as he remembered the fond chastising his dragon gave him every now and then. He was now a man of status, but didn't really mind. He was still himself. Mostly.

"I suppose it would be a bit more strenuous. After all, there is a hammer involved. What I feel the real pull of it is... is that you can turn a boring dull piece of metal rock, into something useful or even beautiful. It's a fulfilling calling... but I don't know... surprises happen? I love the forge, but I also love Perilth, and do not mourn my time being preoccupied by him instead of my pursuit of a mastery."

[panther]

Kalyr smiled, genuine as ever, “Yeah, everyone’s different, some are just more different than others,” He smirked, and laughed, “You know, This place?” He looked around him, “this place is a tannery… in a weyr, it’s quite an oddity.” He nodded, “So, I’m a journeyman, in dragonrider territory, that makes me about as handy as a tunnelcat in a mine.” He shook his head and laughed, “Yet for some reason, this mine’s got one by the first egg of a tunnelsnake infestation.” He smiled.

S’yer hander him a small bottle of a liquid, and he examined it, rolled it over in his hand, watching the bubble shift through the liquid. Kalyr took the phial, and splashed some on his hands, rubbing it hard in, “Thanks mate, I appreciate it,” the stains dulled and it made him happier, then, he sniffed, raised his hands to his nose and smelt the scent, “Wow, that’s a tad pungent, different to the smell of oil, and leather – and runners.” He made an odd face, unsure of the scent.

“You’ll learn jut fine – just fine, I can tell, you’re a good guy.” He nodded and sniffed his hands again before he shifted the first leather away from the hanging rack, and shifted it closer to the fire. He looked to S’yer, and back to the hide, “that stiffens the hide,”

“Mmm, I don’t think I’d want to do metal smithing , but – I will say, you’re not.. Smith build are you?” He was of course referring to S’yer’s .. unimposing frame. “But I know the feeling of turning something dull into something beautiful, though, most leatherwork isn’t classically beautiful, but it’s useful. “ He nodded, Pulling a thick dull, needle from a rack, and threaded it with a strong thread. He cut the end by biting the end, tugging it taught, then he popped it aside. “Well, either way – they can say that they do occasionally let riders finish their mastery – should talk to the Weyrling mistress, she might have answers for you.” He nodded like he was wise.

[Minajerie]

S'yer blinked, not quite following the mans logic... but decided to just stay silent and nod at the appropriate places. He found that was a good action to take when you wanted to reassure people that yes, you were listening, just simply had nothing to say at that juncture.

The young bronze rider nodded. "Mmmm, yes. The smell is definitely different. /that's why I tend to wash it off. But it will take a majority of the stain with it, so I thought it was well worth the bother." He shrugged. Sometimes, when he had the time, he mixed in a little nutty oil to help with the difference in smell and to also help hydrate his hands. He hated when his skin cracked in the winters when he wasn't paying attention.

When Kalyr shifted the hide, S'yer's attention transfixed on the step, and was glad for the explanation. He liked knowing the 'why' of things.

When the tanner said he wasn't exactly built for smithing, S'yer tried to not take offense. He simply didn't put on muscles like some men do. He had the large shoulders and fairly tall frame, but had only moderate muscle mass with smith strength hiding deceptively within their confines. "I did not think I was so far from the smith stereotype. But, one's image of oneself is always strewed towards the hopeful, I suppose... and I understand the useful bit. Who do you think makes nails? The metal fittings for tack? Even some tanner work needs cooperation from smiths every now and then. One of my favorite everyday things to make is a simple wagon wheel." He shrugged. "It's beautiful in it's functionality."