#(king weaponsmith | smithy)

[corruptedbunny-multimuse]

@deisbookofdemons

Smithy blinked when one of his underlings brought him... what... looked like a baby? He blinked in confusion, looking at the tiny infant in his hands.

[corruptedbunny-multimuse]

Smithy growled a little bit.

@hoshi-neko-hikari

EM and EK at a restaurant (open rp)

Hikari was happily eating at a new restaurant that just opened in town. It was a seafood place and she picked a seat that looked like a pirate ship. She really enjoyed the food, until EM and EK showed up. EK was whining because there werent anymore pirate ship seats available.

“Mommy! I wanna sit on the pirate ship!”

EM then saw Hikari on the pirate ship seat and went up to her. “Move! Now! My kid needs this seat!”

“B-but hikari was hewe fiwst.”

“YOU SELFISH LITTLE BRAT! DONT YOU KNOW ITS RUDE TO TALK BACK TO AN ADULT! I SAID MOVE!” She grabbed Hikari’s plate and threw it on the ground, smashing it, before grabbing hikari and forcibly trying to get her off the seat. Hikari lost her grip and the EM put her in a peanut barrel. “THERE! BRATS LIKE YOU DESERVE TO SIT IN THE PEANUT GALLERY!”

Hikari whimpered and started to cry.

Suggested by anon

[ardafanonarch]

Heirlooms of the Númenoreans: Aranrúth and Narsil

Swords of the First Age, Part 2 of 3

[This is a continuation of the response to this ask.]

Aranrúth

Meaning: King’s Ire. Sindarin.

Maker: Unknown. (See discussion.)

Owned/wielded by: Thingol, [Dior?], Elwing, Elros, the Kings of Númenor. (See discussion.)

Fate: Did not survive the downfall of Númenor (Unfinished Tales, ‘A Description of Númenor’, note 2).

Aranrúth. ‘King’s Ire’, the name of Thingol’s sword. Aranrúth survived the ruin of Doriath and was possessed by the Kings of Númenor. Index of The Silmarillion

‘I ask then for a sword of worth,’ said Beleg; ‘for the Orcs come now too thick and close for a bow only, and such blade as I have is no match for their armour.’ ‘Choose from all that I have,’ said Thingol, ‘save only Aranrúth, my own.’ The Silmarillion, ‘Of Túrin Turambar’

Discussion

We do not know who made Aranrúth. We do, however, know that the Sindar’s first weapons were forged by the Dwarves:

Therefore Thingol took thought for arms, which before his people had not needed, and these at first the Naugrim smithied for him; for they were greatly skilled in such work, though none among them surpassed the craftsmen of Nogrod, of whom Telchar the smith was greatest in renown. The Silmarillion, ‘Of the Sindar’

So potentially Aranrúth was forged by Dwarves, perhaps even Telchar.

There is another curious passage about Thingol’s armouries in The Children of Húrin:

Now Thingol had in Menegroth deep armouries filled with great wealth of weapons: metal wrought like fishes' mail and shining like water in the moon; swords and axes, shields and helms, wrought by Telchar himself or by his master Gamil Zirak the old, or by elven-wrights more skilful still. For some things he had received in gift that came out of Valinor and were wrought by Fëanor in his mastery, than whom no craftsman was greater in all the days of the world. The Children of Húrin, ‘The Departure of Túrin’

Dwarven smiths, including Telchar and Gamil Zirak, are mentioned again; but according to this passage, at least, Thingol also possessed Noldorin weaponry, including objects wrought by Fëanor himself!

And, of course, we know Eöl, formerly Thingol’s subject, was a weaponsmith so it’s not like none of the Sindar possessed this skill. We also do not know when it was forged, save that Thingol definitely possessed it by the time Anglachel passed to Beleg. In sum, there are myriad possibilities for the maker of Aranrúth.

Was Aranrúth ever used in combat? Yes: While we do not see Thingol fight much in the Silmarillion, he was involved in combat in the First Battle (The Silmarillion, ‘Of the Sindar’). In an unwritten Canto of Lay of Leithian, Tolkien wrote the outline of a battle between Thingol’s army and Orcs who were searching for Lúthien on the borders of Doriath. It is said that “Thingol himself slays Boldog,” the Orc captain, in their victory (The Lays of Beleriand, The Lay of Leithian, ‘The Unwritten Cantos’ 12). So Thingol did engage in combat, and it’s reasonable to assume Aranrúth was his weapon in these battles.

Unfinished Tales (‘A Description of Númenor’, footnote 2) tells us:

The King’s sword was indeed Aranrúth, the sword of Elu Thingol of Doriath in Beleriand, that had descended to Elros from Elwing his mother.

This is one of those places with frustratingly, and tantalisingly, few details and gaps in the narrative. First of all, we do not know how Aranrúth passed from Thingol to Elwing (presumably via Dior, but not confirmed). Second, we don’t know how Aranrúth was saved from both the sack of Doriath and the sack of Sirion. This is complicated by the fact that Elwing was a child at the time of the former, and Elros her son was a child at the time of the latter. Surely an adult would have been involved in the transportation and transferral of this mighty weapon, but who? This is where you’ll find some interesting possibilities explored by fans: Was Oropher perhaps involved, the Iathren father of Thranduil never written into the Silmarillion? Or Galadriel, whose whereabouts at this time are inconclusive? Did Gil-galad find it in Sirion and pass it on to Elros later? Or did Maglor bring it with him out of Sirion and pass it on to his foster Elros? Up to you! Canon does not tell us.

Finally, all we know of Aranrúth’s fate is that it did not survive the Downfall. But if Ar-Pharazôn had it on him when he went ashore in Valinor, might it have been buried with him?

Narsil

Meaning: Red and White Flame (according to LotR index). Quenya.

Maker: Telchar

Owned/wielded by: Unknown; Elendil, who wielded it in the War of the Last Alliance; shards borne by Isildur, Valandil and his line; reforged as Andúril and wielded by Aragorn in the War of the Ring.

Notable for: cutting the Ring from Sauron’s hand.

Fate: broken in the War of the Last Alliance; shards borne by Elendil’s heirs through the Third Age and eventually reforged as Andúril.

But at the last the siege was so strait that Sauron himself came forth; and he wrestled with Gil-galad and Elendil, and they both were slain, and the sword of Elendil broke under him as he fell. But Sauron also was thrown down, and with the hilt-shard of Narsil Isildur cut the Ruling Ring from the hand of Sauron and took it for his own. The Silmarillion, ‘Of the Rings of Power and the Third Age' 'Here I set it,' he said, 'but I command you not to touch it, nor to permit any other to lay hand on it. In this elvish sheath dwells the Blade that was Broken and has been made again. Telchar first wrought it in the deeps of time. The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers, ‘Chapter 6: The King of the Golden Hall’

Discussion

Narsil is a fascinating sword of the “First Age” because the only reason we know it even existed that early is Aragorn’s one mention of Telchar in The Two Towers, quoted above. The problem is, Elendil is the first confirmed owner of Narsil — at the end of the Second Age! This leaves over three-and-a-half millennia of history unaccounted for. Nothing in canon tells us how Narsil got from the smithies of Nogrod to Elendil. (Until I did this research, even I was certain that Elros was confirmed to have owned Narsil; not so.)

This mention has led fans to do some imaginative mental gymnastics devising a history for the famous Blade that was Broken. One popular interpretation is that Elros received Narsil from Maedhros, and this is not without basis in canon. For one, we know that Elros was fostered by Maglor and presumably knew Maedhros also (in some versions, it is in fact Maedhros who fosters the half-elven twins). There is also a canonical link between Maedhros and Telchar, recounted in the Narn i hîn Húrin in Unfinished Tales (the story was not reproduced in the Children of Húrin): when Maedhros saves the life of Azaghâl lord of Belegost in an Orc raid on the Dwarf road, Azaghâl gives him the Dragon-helm of Dor-lómin — another work of Telchar — as guerdon. Could Azaghâl have given him Narsil at the same time? Of course, there are plenty of other ways Maedhros might have received Narsil besides, this is just one of the more direct links.

There are also countless other ways Narsil could have come to Elendil. Another equally plausible explanation would be that it was one of the weapons in Thingol’s armouries, saved, like Aranrúth, from the sack of Doriath. And we don’t even know that Narsil was ever in Númenor! Could it have been Elrond’s sword, that he gave to his cousin many-times-removed when he came to Middle-earth? There are many, many tantalising possibilities.

Part 1 | Part 3

[marta-bee]

When I first started thinking about a M*A*S*H/Numenor crossover, I was just thinking it was the closest canon gave us about wars over imperial expansion and competing worldviews and spheres of dominance, which Vietnam and even Korea is so centered on. So if we're going for farce in the shadow of all that, it really wasn't a hard decision.

But look at the canon I'd forgotten about:

The Edain brought with them to Númenor the knowledge of many crafts, and many craftsmen who had learned from the Eldar, besides preserving lore and traditions of their own. But they could bring with them few materials, save for the tools of their crafts; and for long all metals in Númenor were precious metals. They brought with them many treasures of gold and silver, and gems also; but they did not find these things in Númenor. They loved them for their beauty, and it was this love that first aroused in them cupidity, in later days when they fell under the Shadow and became proud and unjust in their dealings with lesser folk of Middle-earth. Of the Elves of Eressëa in the days of their friendship they had at times gifts of gold and silver and jewels; but such things were rare and prized in all the earlier centuries, until the power of the Kings was spread to the coasts of the East. Some metals they found in Númenor; and as their cunning in mining and in smelting and smithying swiftly grew things of iron and copper became common. Among the wrights of the Edain were weaponsmiths, and they had with the teaching of the Noldor acquired great skill in the forging of swords, of axe-blades, and of spearheads and knives. Swords the Guild of Weapon-smiths still made, for the preservation of the craft, though most of their labour was spent on the fashioning of tools for the uses of peace. The King and most of the great chieftains possessed swords as heirlooms of their fathers; and at times they would still give a sword as a gift to their heirs. A new sword was made for the King's Heir to be given to him on the day on which this title was conferred. But no man wore a sword in Númenor, and for long years few indeed were the weapons of warlike intent that were made in the land. Axes and spears and bows they had, and shooting with bows on foot and on horseback was a chief sport and pastime of the Númenóreans. In later days, in the wars upon Middle-earth, it was the bows of the Númenóreans that were most greatly feared. "The Men of the Sea," it was said, "send before them a great cloud, as a rain turned to serpents, or a black hail tipped with steel;" and in those days the great cohorts of the King's Archers used bows made of hollow steel, with black-feathered arrows a full ell long from point to notch. But for long the crews of the great Númenórean ships came unarmed among the men of Middle-earth; and though they had axes and bows aboard for the felling of tmber and the hunting for food upon wild shores owned by no man, they did not bear these when they sought out the men of the lands. It was indeed their grievance, when the Shadow crept along the coasts and men whom they had befriended became afraid or hostile, that iron was used against them by those to whom they had revealed it.

Learning weapon-making as an art from the Noldor (and we see how well that worked for them in the longrun?)-- check. Swords as ceremonial objects but not put to any use in Numenor, versus how they were such objects of terror in Middle-earth? The Edain native to Middle-earth complaining (not unjustly!) that they showed the Numenoreans how to find all that steel in the first place? The fact that weapon-craft was such an artform among the Numenoreans, that they were so known for it, what that tells us about their character and reputation?

..... That's damned sexy, that is.

[thcblacksmith]

⚜  GENDRY.  ≻  ❪  joe dempsie. cis-male. he/him.  ❫  the sound of metal hitting metal & calloused hands. is that the bastard from flea bottom ? they haven’t aged a day. i can’t believe they’re only twenty four years old and already so stubborn and proud. it seems they’ve sworn their allegiance to the people. gods have mercy on the blacksmith’s soul.

When he worked, nothing existed for him but metal, bellows, fire. The hammer was like a part of his arm.

– A Clash of Kings, Arya IX.

HEADCANONS:

Gendry doesn’t know about his Baratheon heritage but he does look a lot like his uncle, Renly who looks a lot like his brother Robert. I feel like people -especially does who knew Robert in his youth, like Ned Stark- might get suspicious fairly quickly upon meeting the boy

His mother worked as a tavern wench at an alehouse and she died from an unknown illness when he was still a young boy. He doesn’t remember much about him other than the fact that she had blond hair. So Gendry was alone as a child, having to look after himself after his mother’s death and having grown up with that mentality he is convinced that he doesn’t need anyone else and is quite suspicious and untrusting of the people he meets.

When he was old enough, an unknown lord paid his apprentice fee so he could learn to be a blacksmith. He then took up work as an apprentice blacksmith under Tobho Mott, a master weaponsmith from Qohor, forging high-end armor and weapons for the nobility. 

Growing up having to work for a living, at Mott's smithy, Gendry became disciplined and doesn't have any of his father Robert's negative qualities of self-indulgence in food, drink, and women.

Gendry is from the slums Flea Bottom, the poorest part of Kings Landing. He has spent many long, hungry nights in a cold cottage, not knowing if he’d survive the week while the lords and ladies of the land sat in their extravagant castles with their golds and silvers. So he dislikes highborns quite a bit. He deeply resents the great lords for oppressing the lower classes and tearing Westeros apart with their bloody wars.

[corruptedbunny-multimuse]

Smithy smiled a bit.

@the-plushie-friendships

((bestie suggested to me that we do a continuation of the axem rangers rp so))

A detailed picture of Smithy appeared in Ames's hands.

*Ames looked at the picture closely as she began to work on a lifelike Smithy plush with her sewing machine*

[slxrpindust]

Labor on That Midnight Wire

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Rating: M

Archive Warnings: No Warnings Apply

Relationships: Molly/Alastor, Angel Dust/Husk, Charlie/Vaggie— mentioned, Arackniss/Salem, Lucifer/Lilith — mentioned

Characters: Angel Dust, Molly, Arackniss, Alastor, Husk, Salem, Henroin, Lucifer, Minor Character(s)

Additional Tags: Non-Consensual Drug Use, Alternate Universe — Royalty, Alternate Universe — Nobility, Mentioned Character Death, Hurt No Comfort, Angst, No Happy Ending, Non-Graphic Violence, Fade-to-Black Sex, Conflict No Resolution, Incomplete, Viva la Revolución

It’s a classic European royalty AU, with King Lucian, Queen Lilith and Princess Charlotte. Varona (Vaggie) is Charlie’s Lady in Waiting but they have been secretly courting each other for quite some time now. (Unfortunately this is just the B plot and I don’t have much planned for it.)

Our focus will primarily be the House of Cadaverini: Marquis Henry Cadaverini and his late wife Marchioness Clementine, and their three lovely children, the Lord Nicholas, the Lady Maria, and the Young Lord Angelo.

Nick is the perfect heir. Upstanding young man, handsome, does what he’s told, handles quite a few of the House’s duties, helps maintain good relations with neighboring lords... the usual. In fact, many suspect that he will be betrothed to the Princess come year’s end.

Lady Maria is the talk of the land for her beauty and grace, but mostly her sharp wit. Normally ladies are expected to be prim and proper, and while she is, she has also never hesitated to cut a man down with her words... Many a rumor about what lucky lord will be able to “tame” that lady into a proper wife... Unfortunately, that doesn’t seem to be happening any time soon, since Henry is soft on her, his only daughter who reminds him of his wife so much; he’s given her the liberty of rejecting any suitor that comes before her and she does so gleefully.

And lastly.. of course, the Young Lord, Angelo. He is much more reckless than both of his siblings, and tales of his escapades travel far. He’s a heartbreaker, said to be able to woo anyone woman in the land. Although it would seem his tastes lie with the gents.. and is also exceptional at challenges of the equestrian variety. While beloved by many, much of the older Nobility find him disgraceful, due to his blatant disrespect and unwillingness to perform the duties expected of him. As you can tell the House is quite the popular topic for gossip.

Now one day, Lord Angelo and Lady Maria are out for one of their rides, (another thing she shouldn't be doing but WELL..) and they come across a hovel of a building.. Never noticed it because they never come out this far..... and it's so creepy it's like an above ground graveyard or a mausoleum or something..... there are coffins EVERYWHERE.... some open... some, more disturbingly, closed. This is where they meet the estranged Alistair who has.. no last name? Despite Angelo’s distrust, Maria seems to be immediately intrigued by this strange man... the first able to keep up with her Wit, following along with every twist and turn and giving as good as he got.

[ Interaction Interlude:

“So... Alistair...... What do you do for a living?”

“I’m a Carpenter! :)”

“..... who only makes coffins?” :doubt:

“................... Correct! :)” ]

Eventually, Angelo has had enough and is like “Alright let’s go!” And Maria seems frustrated by this but she agrees anyway.. they leave but even as they do both Alistair and Maria know... She’ll be back.

And she is! She starts to visit Alistair more and more often, all alone as well, which is extremely unacceptable for a woman of her status. And before they know it they’ve begun their own private little courting dance that neither will admit to. And thats. Main Plot Part A.

MEANWHILE IN MAIN PLOT PART B.... While Maria is off on her secret dates, which Angelo knows about and is begrudgingly been covering her for... Angelo actually has to go out since he’s supposed to be out with Maria. And he finds his time occupied at this kind of shitty smithy which is clearly for low income peasantry and thus. Absolutely NOWHERE he should be spending his time... Which is why he likes it so much. :))) And it’s there that he meets the gruff and burdensome blacksmith who offers no name. It’s fine though. Angelo doesn’t need a name to flirt. And this blacksmithy is cute under all that dirt and grime He Knows It. Unfortunately the Smith doesn’t seem to like the Young Lord at all, which is also fine. Angelo’s certain he can crack him eventually. No one can resist Lord Cadaverini. They go back and forth for months.. Angelo learns that people call the smith Husk... he likes the name. Eventually the man seems less genuinely irritated and more begrudgingly annoyed. Angelo can tell. The smith enjoys his company he just won’t admit it. Especially to himself. Finally one day, Angelo is actually getting on Husks nerves but he can’t even tell. The Lord is a bit oblivious to when people are legitimately mad at him, since he’s so used to mindlessing pushing people’s buttons. What pushes it over the line though, is Angelo asking why Husk is always smithing weapons especially since there's no way there could be that much demand for such a simple low class smithy... yet he’s always working. Husk snaps, although Angelo doesn’t know why, and he sends the lord away.

So! While his siblings have been gallivanting about, making poor examples of the Cadaverini House, Nicholas has been the one thing trying to hold their damn reputation together. Honestly the only reason that the Cadaverini haven't fallen in standing with the other Noble Houses is because the elders have faith in Nicholas to uphold the legacy and their beliefs in what nobility should be. He’s their last bastion of hope. They’d already given up on Angelo, and with each year unwed, they lose faith in Maria as well. In fact, prospects for House Cadaverini Look brighter than ever, since rumors say that Nicholas and the Princess will be wed.

Nick pays no mind to the rumors. Which is a real shame because he is woefully unprepared when Henry comes to inform him that yes, he has talked to King Lucien and he and Charlotte will be wed in December.

You see... Nicholas has not been the perfect son that everyone believes he has. He has a lot of duties for the kingdom; one of which is “maintaining foreign relations” a position that requires him to report directly to the king, making him Quite the Reputable and Important figure…

On paper, Hel is supposed to be fostering positive relations with its neighboring country, Locasta. However, under the surface King Lucien is planning a Coup, and intends to have his brother, Apollyna assassinated. In order to achieve this, Nicholas has been appointed as his Locastan Envoy, and is expected to spend long trips in the other country integrating himself into their Nobility, establishing a close relationship, and eventually learning trade military secrets. So Nick has spent his time trying to get into Count Caius Costello’s good graces. Although of lower rank, he is in charge of one of Locasta’s fiercest regiments. The plan was to use his status as a Lord and future Marques of Cadaverini House to garner a seat at Costello’s table. Then he would endear himself to the Count’s Sister, Salem, and use her as a pathway to receive information... Unfortunately... Things didn’t work out quite as planned.

Salem is smart as a whip, and just as quick and vicious. She pulls Nick off to the side of the stables one day, and before he can defend himself, she has him pinned to the wall with a knife to his throat. It’s almost shameful how easily she reads him, he’s like an open book before her. It’s impressive, but Nicholas still has a mission. So he lies through his teeth and waves his position around as though it were a white flag, and even though she doesn’t seem to believe him at ALL, she lets him go. He has a point after all... Killing someone of his status WOULD be a declaration of war, which is exactly what King Lucian would want. Her hands were tied.... for now. But the moment Nick slipped up, and he would slip up, she’d be there, sword at the ready. And he knew it. And he liked it.

He wouldn’t call it courting.. .that’s too formal. Too normal. Too acceptable. He spends the time in Locasta... pursuing Salem. And he spends his time in Hel missing her company. It’s a miracle his siblings haven’t noticed his lovesick longing, but he supposed that for once they were too busy doing whatever to be prying into his life. And for that he was thankful.

Back in Hel, Angelo has been... Sulking. To put it plainly. Maria’s been off with her new beau.... Nicholas has been off being Stupid Perfect Son Nicholas. And he’s been fucking alone because Husk hates him now and never wants to see him again and he doesn’t even know why. And this house is big and empty and it just makes him lonely upset and mad and lonely. And it’s on one of those lonely days in an empty house that the monotony was broken. Broken by a concerned servant, who requires the assistance of the Lord of the House and since Angelo is the only one there well... that task falls to him. Apparently there is a weaponsmith at the front gate and he is quite adamant that the Lord come see his wares. So Angelo makes his way to the front of the grounds and who does he see but. Husk. The young lord is immediately on guard; the last time they met they didn’t part on good terms after all. He debates just sending the man away but Husk asks that he please hear him out and well.... he quite likes the frump so... he invites him in.

[They make up. They fuck.] Funnily enough, it isn't until they're in bed that Angelo learns the man’s name... Hadrian Cabot... it was a good name. (And thank god his mother was already dead because had she heard of this she might have died again.) But Angelo demands one more thing from him. If he’s going to stay in his life then Hadrian will have to be honest about what set him off that day in the smithy. He doesn’t seem like he wants to share but after looking at Angelo’s face again it seems to break him down a little. He explains his... checkered past.... and the fact that until Angelo he’d always hated Nobles... and in fact he still hates 99% of them. Which makes Angelo laugh, knowing he's the 1%. And he doesn’t fault the smith for that; as a lord he could attest, Nobility, including himself tbh, were all AWFUL people. But then Hadrian tells him something that he can’t just brush off.. He tells him of a plot, an uprising in Hel. People are banding together, they know that King Lucian is power hungry and tyrannical and fear that a war they don’t want is on the horizon. It’s made the people restless and some have decided to lash out before he gets the chance to strike. That’s why he was always crafting weapons. He owed the guy who has become the unofficial leader of the revolution.. they’d worked together in the past and the reason Hadrian lashed out was because he hadn’t wanted to get Angelo involved. Angelo could understand why. He knew what revolution entailed. Heads would roll. Heads like his. He could understand why Hadrian didn’t want to get close to him. Not if he would be partially responsible for his death in the future. But even still something about the story unsettled him. This guy that Hadrian was indebted to... What was his name? Who is leading this revolution?.... Angelo wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer. But he had to ask.

LET’S CHECK ON MOLLY HUH??? —

Alright! It seems that for Maria, her lovelife has been sailing far easier than either of her brothers. Alistair is fantastic. He actually engages her, he’s interested in the things she has to say, appreciates her mind instead of her breasts. It’s such a relief after wasting so much time with those bastards in the court. They get along quite well. It’s refreshing. She’d been making trips out to visit him once or twice a week at this point, just glad to have someone outside of her brothers that she could consider an actual friend. ((It’s not like she could just make informal housecalls to see the princess when ever she wanted, even if they were friends)) Someone who she could just be herself around, even if he was just odd. She could tell him her passions about the medical field, and he would in turn talk about his hunting escapades. She learned that although he made a number of coffins for work he also found an unexpected pleasure in the art. It soothed something in him, brought him to peace with death both future present and past. Maria didn’t quite understand it, but she respected it well enough. It was a day like any other, they’d been having tea and Alistair was in the process of explaining ‘taxidermy’ when Angelo burst in. He looked ragged and distressed and he wasn’t breathing right... It set Maria on edge.

His eyes looked so wild, darting back and forth every few seconds to look at Alistair, as if taking his eyes off him for a second would be catastrophic but also desperate to ensure that his sister was unharmed and in one piece. It took a few seconds to realize that between his reedy breathing and panicked gasps he was trying to speak, but it was all rushing together so quickly that it was incomprehensible. Maria immediately went to his side, assuming the worst. Thankfully it seemed that having her in arms reach helped to calm him, if only a little. During all the stress and concern, she hadn’t even noticed the man who followed Angel in, slightly out of breath. But thankfully Alistair did. He immediately took control of the situation, as if he were born to lead. It was a bit unexpected, but not unwanted, although again Maria and Angelo seemed to be out of sync with that thought. He instructed everyone to have a seat, and began to prepare tea for everyone as he tried to explain to Angelo that no one would be able to understand him until he calmed down and that the tea would help. The young lord didn’t seem to agree with him but eventually was cajoled into drinking by his sister and his... beau. He wished he hadn’t.

Within minutes he felt calm. Too calm. His tongue felt like lead in his mouth, every blink came slow and heavy, and suddenly the teacup had the weight of an anchor sitting in his hands. He wasn’t tired, it just felt that he was underwater. Every movement came, but it came sluggish like the drip of molasses off a wooden spoon. He wanted to glare, to yell and accuse Alistair for his misdeeds, but the very thought of lifting his head seemed like a monumental task, so very far beyond him. Thankfully, his sister was no fool, and immediately noticed something was wrong. Everyone was just too relaxed for the situation at hand. She turned to confront Alistair but he just responded with the same smile he always did, asking that she refrained from being swept away in her own emotions and that she hear his explanation. She didn’t know if she wanted to, but the sight of her brother, nearly comatose and in the arms of a stranger, left her with little choice now didn’t it? And she didn’t hesitate to point that out.

Thankfully, Alistair didn’t waste time on contrivances, and was quick to explain himself. He explained that while yes, it was coincidence that they happened upon his humble abode that fateful day, it was always part of the plan to “make contact” with the Cadaverini heirs. And yes, he meant Kidnapping. But thankfully he realized that day, there was no need to resort to such methods because Maria was an intelligent woman and surely would see his logic. He had no intention of hurting either her or her brother, he simply needed them as a means to an end, and it just so happened that if she would willingly agree to his cause that would only make things much easier. At that point, he details his entire plan to her; a move some might consider foolish, but when questioned he assured that he held no doubt in his mind that Maria would not betray him. It burned her inside to know that he was right. He explains the role that she and her siblings are to partake in this game of his and that is when she has had enough. She needs to know. Is that all this was to him? A game? Alistair is excited, he can tell by her calm demeanor that he’s already won her over, had he not he may have been in actual danger, and the thought has made him giddy. He’s prancing about the house, making changes to their plans to accommodate their new accomplices when he registers the question. “A game? Why of course not, Dear Maria! I’ve always considered you a good friend.”

She didn’t know if that answer made her feel better.. or worse.

[vardasvapors]

as someone who has never considered numenor that deeply, i would love to hear any thoughts you may have on how the trajectory of its material culture went and how/why it diverged from the material culture of, say, tol eressea or lindon.

There’s a bunch of cool stuff in the unfinished tales! Early on it’s:

The chief and most ancient road suitable for wheels, ran from the greatest port, Rómenna in the east, to the royal city of Armenelos, and thence on to the Valley of the Tombs and the Meneltarma; and this road was early ex­tended to Ondosto within the borders of the Forostar, and thence to Andúnië in the west. Along it passed wains bearing stone from the Northlands that was most esteemed for building, and timber in which the Westlands were rich.

The Edain brought with them to Númenor the knowledge of many crafts, and many craftsmen who had learned from the Eldar, besides preserving lore and traditions of their own. But they could bring with them few materials, save for the tools of their crafts; and for long all metals in Númenor were precious metals. They brought with them many treasures of gold and silver, and gems also; but they did not find these things in Nú­menor. They loved them for their beauty, and it was this love that first aroused in them cupidity, in later days when they fell under the Shadow and became proud and unjust in their deal­ings with lesser folk of Middle-earth. Of the Elves of Eressëa in the days of their friendship they had at times gifts of gold and silver and jewels; but such things were rare and prized in all the earlier centuries, until the power of the Kings was spread to the coasts of the East.

Some metals they found in Númenor, and as their cunning in mining and in smelting and smithying swiftly grew things of iron and copper became common. Among the wrights of the Edain were weaponsmiths, and they had with the teaching of the Noldor acquired great skill in the forging of swords, of axe-blades, and of spearheads and knives. Swords the Guild of Weapon-smiths still made, for the preservation of the craft, though most of their labour was spent on the fashioning of tools for the uses of peace. The King and most of the great chieftains possessed swords as heirlooms of their fathers; and at times they would still give a sword as a gift to their heirs. A new sword was made for the King’s Heir to be given to him on the day on which this title was conferred. But no man wore a sword in Númenor, and for long years few indeed were the weapons of warlike intent that were made in the land. Axes and spears and bows they had, and shooting with bows on foot and on horseback was a chief sport and pastime of the Númenóreans. In later days, in the wars upon Middle-earth, it was the bows of the Númenóreans that were most greatly feared. “The Men of the Sea,” it was said, “send before them a great cloud, as a rain turned to ser­pents, or a black hail tipped with steel;” and in those days the great cohorts of the King’s Archers used bows made of hollow steel, with black-feathered arrows a full ell long from point to notch.

I think the main reason their material culture would also differ from Lindon is because Numenor is very different from Lindon. First of all, there wasn’t really an established culture in Lindon when Numenor was founded, it was really soon after the war, so their culture was all stuff the Edain of the First Age knew, the remnants of their own (mixed) cultures, with the Tol Eressea stuff added on to it, rather than diverging from Lindon or Tol Eressea precisely. Also Numenor was an abundant paradise – specially created and enriched by the Valar and the elves of Tol Eressea for the Edain as a gift and a reward in recompense for what they suffered – the Land of Gift. They didn’t venture into some great wild frontier for adventuuurrrre or anything, except in the conceptual sense of building a new society of their own, it was a haven of refuge and peace and rest after decades of misery and slaughter and being whittled down and losing their homes and lords etc. Lindon meanwhile, is the edge of an apocalyptic warzone.

Later the Numenoreans get way more into mass woodwork due to their high volume shipbuilding during/after the period of the Mariner’s Wife, to build up their military fleet in anticipation of the return of the shadow, and I figure this would also spread into non-ship things out of all that timber.

Even later as elaborated in various places, they get super greedy (more in a compensating for the frustration to their inflated egos sort of way than anything else imo) and steal wealth, especially precious metals and gems, from the people of Middle Earth, and enslave them (probably to mine more wealth). And at least one king, Tar-Telemmaitë, was super obsessed with Mithril specifically.

Also they become obsessed with tombs and there’s a ton of Egypt-ish references, and so I figure that (also as an ego/insecurity thing) they would be super focused on stonework and building massive ostentatious buildings and monuments and memorials to proclaim their greatness etc etc.

[shadowflame-117]

Don’t Fear the Reaper

This takes place 6 months after And then it all changed (I really need to learn how to make a masterlist so I can organize all this). Since Kit has a weapon unique to her, I decided it would be cool if she was the one to make it with a little help from an expert of course. The ending feels kinda meh (I had a better ending before my computer ate everything) but it is what it is I guess...

---

Kit spent every free moment for the past six months planning out her design, throwing away several rough drafts before she was finally satisfied. Plans in hand, she headed down to the royal smithy, where the kings and their chosen few had their weapons made. She smiled when she saw the Weaponsmith, waving the paper at him.

���I finally figured it out Vulros!”

Vulros wiped his hands on his apron and came over, smiling. “About time, girl. Let me see what you got and then we can get to work.”

Kit laid the plans on a nearby clean workbench. Vulros looked the design over and grinned. “You’re certainly ambitious, Ray. This is gonna be a lot more work than those trinkets you come down here to create.”

Kit blushed. No one outside of the smithy knew that Kit created some of the most sought after protection charms out there. Not just for their abilities and benefits, but because each one was its own little piece of artwork. She usually gave them to one of Vulros assistants when they were done and then collected the money once they were sold. Vulros didn’t understand her wanting to hide in the shadows, but he kept her secret nonetheless.

“I’m ready. And you know I’m more than willing to put in the hard work.”

Vulros grinned. “Let’s get to it then.”

Vulros led Kit over to the furnace, where several bars were sitting, ready to be melted. Each bar had been blessed by a priest of the six to bestow certain qualities. A few were blessed by light, while the others were blessed by the elements-fire, lightning, and ice. Kit carefully examined each bar, selecting the ones that she felt would be best for the blade itself. In the end she selected three bars of light and two of ice. Vulros nodded approvingly.

He made quick work of welding the ice bars to two of the light, the weld so flawless that they looked to be one solid piece of metal. “This will make a fine weapon, Kit. One daemons will come to fear.”

 Kit grinned. “That’s the plan.”

Kit helped Vulros transfer the bars to the forge, watching as the first one was placed inside and slowly heated. She watched Vulros pull the softened metal out with tongs, placing it on the anvil before starting to flatten and shape it with his hammer, folding the metal several times to create strong layers that would withstand almost any punishment. After getting it to the correct dimensions, he started on the next piece, adding it to the first once it was in a similar state. When it came time to start on the third bar, he turned the tong and hammer over to Kit.

“Let’s see what you’re made of, shall we?”

Kit took the tools with a grin. One of the benefits of training with Gladio every day was that while lean, she was much stronger than she looked. Following the smith’s example, she hammered out the shape this piece would take. With Vulros’ help, she reheated the first two pieces and added hers. After that she set the whole thing in the furnace to normalize, allowing it to slowly heat before taking it out to cool. Once Vulros was satisfied that all the impurities and stresses had been removed, Kit quenched the blade under the smith’s careful watch.

When she removed it, Vulros took back over to temper the blade while Kit carefully observed. Once done, Vulros carefully engraved runes of protection, strength, and the ability to summon the blade through Prince Noctis’ power. After he was done, he passed the blade to Kit to polish and sharpen. Once the blade gleamed with an almost unearthly shine, they took a break to finally eat before beginning work on the staff. It was a long cherry wood that Vulros had somehow managed to reinforce with a steel center. It already had the slit that would allow the blade to lock in, so Kit set about carving her own runes into the wood and attaching various trinkets near the top for added effect. On the bottom she attached an ornate sharpened metal blade that Vulros brought her, usually reserved for lances.

“Thought it could use an added touch.” The smith grinned when he saw just how well it fit.

“It’s perfect.” Kit agreed. “Now for the piece de resistance.”

She carefully added the blade to the staff, smiling at the wicked curve that arched over her head. Once secured, she swung it a few times to test out the balance, before making the grip out of soft leather. She wrapped it just below the middle where the balance felt perfect, then treated it so that it became a part of the wood. It was late into the night when she finally declared her new weapon done. Vulros gave a low whistle as he examined the finished scythe, casting eerie reflections from the still faintly glowing coals of the furnace.

“I’ve never seen its like crafted before, Kit, but it suits you.”

Kit grinned. “I’m calling her Satsuriku, since she is both beautiful and deadly.”

“Just like its wielder.” A cultured voice Kit knew all too well came from behind her. She turned and grinned at Ignis as he came closer. “So this is where you’ve been hiding all day. Vulros, pleasure to see you.”

“You as well, Mr. Scientia.” Vulros said with a small bow of his head. Kit bit back a laugh of hearing a man twice their age call Ignis mister, but with his demeanor Kit wasn’t all that surprised that it actually fit him. Poor Ignis had so many responsibilities that it would crush a normal fifteen year old; even Kit wasn’t sure she could cope with his demanding schedule.

“Were you looking for me for any particular reason, Specs?”

“Noctis has been trying to get ahold of you for a few hours, now. He figured you were busy, but when you missed your sparring session…”

Kit glanced at her phone, seeing just how late it was, as well as several texts and missed calls from the prince. She winced.

“Crap, I didn’t realize it was that late already. I’ll shoot him a message to let him know I’m alright.”

Ignis nodded, looking at the completed scythe in her hand. His eyes widened slightly as he recognized the craftsmanship of the charms she’d attached to it.

“Those are genuine Shadow pieces. Those must have cost you a fortune.”

Kit blushed and shrugged slightly. “They’re not that expensive when you’re the one to make them.”

Ignis stared at her, mouth slightly open in shock. “You’re Shadow?”

“Yeah. But you’re not allowed to tell anyone. Not even Noct. Promise me, Iggy, please.”

Ignis looked at Vulros, who just shrugged, having long ago given up trying to convince her. He looked at Kit again and nodded.

“I don’t understand why you would hide this, but I swear I will never tell a soul.”

Kit smiled. “Thank you, Iggy. Now, how about we head to the training room and show this baby off?” Ignis smiled and Kit turned to wave at Vulros. “See you next week, ‘Ros!”

The big man waved back as he watched the two teenagers leave the smithy, talking about weapons of war the way most teenagers talked about the latest movie they saw. He shook his head as he got back to work.

[corruptedbunny-multimuse]

He nodded, bringing some watermelon over to Black.

@corruptedbunny-multimuse

It had been a bit. Black was away from the other Rangers this time. He was sitting on a shaded chair, looking cool white having a refreshing drink and eating a watermelon. It was nice to be relaxed.

[corruptedbunny-multimuse]

@deisbookofdemons

A handsome prince had come into Pink's life... and the others in the Weapons World... really didn't like him. He belittled them behind her back, and that included her.

He was charming and looked good, but good god was he ugly on the inside.

Smithy looked over as he saw Pink and her prince walking by.

[corruptedbunny-multimuse]

@deisbookofdemons

Smithy hummed as he and the Rangers were brought to Nevada by White Hank... mostly through teleportation.

Kris was sitting on Smithy's head, poking her head over his crown, looking around in curiosity.

[corruptedbunny-multimuse]

"IT'S WHAT DAY?!" Geno yelped, before a certain golem grabbed him and threw him as hard as he could.

[corruptedbunny-multimuse]

"Mm-hmm." Smithy smiled as Kris continued exploring.

"Where the hell am I?" What sounded like a woman asked as she walked through the factory.

She'd see... quite a few beings wandering around-- all resembling weapons.

[corruptedbunny-multimuse]

"VENGEANCE!" Geno shouted as he lifted Smithy up and threw him, the golem screaming as he went flying.

[corruptedbunny-multimuse]

Smithy probably should've guessed fighting Metallix was a mistake.

The spiky blue robot had knocked him around, even with the Emeralds and the Star Piece he had. He had returned to the Weapons World, heavily cracked and part of his head just being gone.