Now having access to the funds necessary for replacing his old set of armour, Chuluun set out to find a blacksmith during his trip through Nirvana. He needed to get away from all of those ignorant masses and decided that directing his focus to another one of his personal objectives would suffice as an efficient distraction from those festering maggots. It has occurred to him how deeply rooted and entrenched the rot of incompetence was in his nation. This revelation made him sick to his stomach as he wondered how Samara had conjured the amount of patience she had to lead those hordes of complacent fools to an arguably undeserved paradise among these dunes. Instead of bettering themselves with the time and resources they have and cherishing the luxuries they had been gifted, all the lizard had witnessed was a blatant waste of such things. They even wasted the very air they breathed. This made the sultan desire a group of like minded individuals and useful pawns more than ever. Fellow shepherds to lead the flock. Eventually, the Ysstmar would come across a smithy during his stroll through those congested passages and had walked inside. Once he had entered the workshop, he had found solace in being separated from those bumbling congregations of fodder. Chu had let out a deep sigh of relief as he slowly wound himself down and had taken a gander through the smithy. The acrid scent of cut steel and the sweet smell of molten iron had brought forth nostalgia when he was first issued his equipment as a mere recruit of the BeastKin Union. Places like these are where weapons of war are made, tools built for the sole purpose of taking another life. He remembered the sounds of hammers hitting metal plates and the roars of furnaces as a symphony to his ears. He had also come to appreciate the blacksmiths themselves, how they laboured day by day to fit the soldiers of their country with the equipment they needed to defend their homeland. These feelings were a stark contrast to the utter disappointment and contempt he felt not too long ago. The sultan would soon meander over to the front counter of the workshop and called out to the blacksmith. "Hello? I have a project I would like to commission you." He stood tall with both of his hands held close behind his back, his fiery red/orange eyes glancing around at the shop with intrigue as he patiently waited for the ironworker to attend to their customer. The saurian glanced around at the smithy's interior, laying his eyes on the blacksmith's various equipment and finished projects. However, he would reserve his judgment for when they actually meet. Perhaps such a hard worker will be quite pleasant to speak to? Unlike that mangy, stinky fox he encountered so long ago at those barracks. As he reminisced about his brief time with that fisherman, he had come to relieve himself of what regret remained.
Akil extended the measuring tape, first taking the measurements of the man’s wingspan. He lifted the man’s arms, both at the same time and proceeded to measure. From the fingertip of his left middle finger to the right one, Akil placed the measuring tape and memorized the length. Akil would kneel and take the height measurement of the man, placing the tape from the foot to the top of his head, again memorizing the length. Once he finished taking all the minor measurements, Akil made his way besides his anvil. The Wulfgar made some annotations on a piece of paper, writing the specifications the made had listed for him.
“Any specific color you desire? Or it’s to my predilection? I would see some purple undertones on the armor, signaling royalty or power. Slight hints of green on the helmet, making it look like the armor is made of emeralds. Hm, yes yes…that could look very well…” Akil began stroking his chin and looking at the man. He would need something sturdy, with some flexibility. The best metal he could use would be damascus iron. This would make the armor quite powerful for his client. It would bring the best in the armor, flexibility and sturdiness…all the remained would be discussing the price and style.
“Apart from the additions you desire…anything else? The horns could cause some trouble, but nothing too major. They are a common addition…For the power aspect, how’d you like to add some spikes at the shoulders? Perhaps some pointier gauntlets, with rough claws in case that you find yourself in a hand-to-hand combat? All are suggestions, mind you.”
The Wulfgar nodded after the Ysstmar finished his request to him, already having a plethora of ideas coming into his mind. The Wulfgar looked at him from top to bottom, astounded by the height of the man. Akil could feel the sensation of his eyes focusing on him…He could feel how this man was strong…or at least powerful. It was like no other experience he had before…usually his clients were merely commoners, asking for knives or glaives…Very unfrequently he got asked for an armor, not a really good one at least. “What do you have in mind, sir? Would you like to share this idea that you have with me? Any concrete things you want? A specific metal? Design? Share to me your vision for the armor, good sir.” Akil spoke with a confident tone, not sounding too rough or too gentle. A blacksmith couldn’t act too weak after all, a weak blacksmith makes a weak craft. The Wulfgar gaze would focus on the drawer next to the shop’s door…Akil walking to it at once, pulling out measuring tapes, an important item for a blacksmith as well. “Measuring tape. To take your measures. Now…let us speak armor…give me details of what you want.”
Sounds of hammer conking the steel was heard outside of his shop, the blacksmith clearly working on a project in the inside of his forge. Akil was clearly focused on his craft, solely focusing on finishing the work he was given to him a few nights ago, that’s when he heard someone entering the shop, the sound of footsteps approaching him. The Wulfgar stopped templating the steel as soon as the Ysstmar stood nearby him. He raised his head, now focusing on the client. Akil placed his hammer down on the worktable besides the anvil, now directing his gaze towards the Ysstmar.
“Well met, welcome to The Ironmade. What can I help you today, good sir? Any request in mind? Armor, weapon, other craft? You name what you need, good sir.” Akil spoke with confidence, proud of his craft and his abilities. The shop was completely adorned with all the previous works that weren’t claim by its clients, armors of all kinds, glaives with incredible designs on the hilts, helmets, bows, a plethora of different items for the eye to see. He was clearly a man with experience, 20 years under his belt as a matter of fact…On that day he was alone, his sister taking a day of after putting a whole week of nonstop work, so now he was the only one who could tend the shop and the clients who came by.