#armorsmith

[wolfsdenforge]

Cranking out some #armor in this case a #viking #helmet which is what I was working on using the cut off pipe as a dishing block. As you can see it works quite well. It's a brisk 10°F today, -12° to those that didn't land on the moon, so I'll be wearing my thick gloves in the shop today to finish it up. Time for some more whack whack. wolfsdenforge.com #wolfsdenforge #blacksmith #armorer #blacksmitharmorer #armorsmith #bladesmith #swordsmith #customarmor #vikingarmor #custom #edged #weaponry #travelingtradesman #itinerantblacksmith (at Alma, Colorado) https://www.instagram.com/p/CoANGFwujAv/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[plushjorms]

i’ve seen a lot of posts about how canon your class is, but now i’m curious, how canon are your crafting disciplines? i’m always curious about who canonically does the crafting

[tricos-here]

a character I made 3 months ago having more play time than a character I've had for nearly 9 years is so. I'm so sorry to have let you down

[commanderfloppy]

People who actually understand how this game works:

What’s the best way to get Harriers Armor/trinkets?

[ratasum]

I completely forgot what I was doing for a minute there because I was just like.

[neverlix]

I have discovered that the best way to not have random people assume you are a woman when about in public is to wear full plate armor

[headspace-hotel]

So, I've learned that if I keep my dwarves' mental health in excellent shape and surround them with masterworks and feed them with masterwork quality lavish meals and have no hostile civilizations nearby to expose them to the horrors of war, they are...exactly the same amount of homicidal and will kill each other randomly for no reason instead of killing each other because they're traumatized and miserable

I've had like 40 dwarves get killed by other dwarves recently, consequently they get traumatized from seeing the dead bodies of the dwarves THEY decided to murder. As far as I can tell nothing causes the fights, some dwarves just decide to punch another dwarf until they die.

One of my dwarves has killed at least 7 of my other dwarves and I don't know why, almost all of her thoughts were positive before she murdered a bunch of people, and her personality traits don't suggest that she would be particularly angry or violent. One of the dwarves she killed was my legendary armorsmith. In the most recent incident she just walked up to a random planter who was completely unarmed and beat him to death.

I've tried assigning her to make clothing at the clothiers workshop because she was upset at wearing old clothing and being unable to craft object, but this did nothing, I also assigned her dining room as an artifact electrum table next to the waterfall and masterwork statues, this also did nothing.

So now I've assigned her to station right next to the magma floodgates so i can send her to eeby deeby, I just wish she wasn't wearing a bunch of masterworks.

[atrueneutral]

Imagine if Raphael was on the Material Plane in human form when he happens to cross paths with his little mouse (who he is infatuated with) and then, for one reason or another, someone mistakenly assumes that Tav is his spouse and refers to Tav as such ("Oh, apologizes, sir! I didn't realize your spouse would be joining you!"). How do you think he'd react? Do you think he'd go deer in headlights for a second? Would he just roll with it? Would he clear up the confusion?

Okay, I kiiiiind of tweaked this a smidge…

—

“That particular piece of armor will run you six-thousand gold.”

Tav balked at the price, and she over-dramatically cleaned out her ear with the tip of her pinky finger. “Sorry - I want to make sure I heard you correctly. You did say six hundred-”

“I said six thousand gold, yes. That’s exactly what I said,'' the dwarven armorsmith staunchly affirmed. His bushy mustache that she originally found fun suddenly became stupid, as did the squat face that hadn’t once smiled since her arrival into his stupid shop. “You can’t pull a fast one on me, lass.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, saer!” She performed offense with a hand to her chest and a face of aghastness. “How dare you accuse me of trying to trick you into giving me a fair deal on a piece of armor!”

“It’ll be the full price or nothing,” he gruffly replied.

The bell posted above the shop door jingled, and Tav could hear bootsteps sauntering up behind her as her brain worked to think of a way to attain the breastplate she wanted. She needed a plan that didn’t involve stealing, murder, or, more importantly, spending six-thousand of her hard-found and hard-earned (and sometimes-but-rarely hard-pilfered) gold...

She wanted this new breastplate, and–

The dwarf looked past her to the only other customer in the shop, and his eyebrows raised. “Lord Raphael! What an honor! How may I be of service?”

Lord Raphael?

Tav frowned and turned to see if it was who she thought (hoped) it was…

Her face lit up. 

It was!

Her solution - her knight in patterned doublet - was here! Her walking, handsome, charming bag of six-thousand gold!

Raphael seemed a tad befuddled by her enthusiastic reaction to his entrance, but that didn’t stop him from smirking at her. “Korrilla said she saw you nearby, and I thought I would see how-”

“-your wife was doing?” Tav finished. She pretended to be deeply touched as she strode up to him. “Oh, husband!”

His nose scrunched with more befuddlement. “Hus-”

Tav placed her hand against the side of his face and silenced him with a kiss. It was their first kiss, but because it needed to be between a husband and wife who were ardently and so-very-passionately in love with one another, Tav’s tongue ended up gliding over his lips in invitation after a handful of seconds. Surprisingly, Raphael accepted with a hum. His tongue entered her mouth and his tongue swirled around hers as he grabbed her hip.

As it turned out, Tav quite liked kissing him. So much so that she almost forgot she was standing in a shop and was well on her way of forgetting that she was only kissing Raphael because she wanted him to be her devilish coin purse.

Tav woozily broke the kiss, feeling weak in the knees.

“This is your wife, Lord Raphael?” the shop-owner asked with astonishment.

Tav, still against Raphael with her hip captured by his hand, stared at her ‘spouse’ with an expression that said: please say yes.

Looking past the lust in his eyes, the cambion stared back at her. His expression said: you’re up to something.

“I’ll pay you back,” Tav sang, grazing her thumb across his cheek with a smile. “After all, I did give you that wonderful… hat. The one that looks so nice and so perfect on your head. The hat that is better than alllllll the other hats in existence…”

“Did you not get something in return, Little Mouse?”

Tav twisted to give the shop-owner a heartened look. “Don’t you adore the pet name?”

The dwarf’s eyes narrowed.

“What is it that you want, wife?” Raphael asked with a tilt of his head. “A new deal will need to be struck.”

There were oftentimes instances where Tav’s mouth ran before logic and reason had the chance to catch up.

This was one such instance.

“I will clean the House, husband,” she replied, giving just as much bite to the fake title as he did to hers. “Naked.”

The offer threw kindling onto the fire in his brown eyes.

“For eight hours!” her logic and reason was quick to add. Tav tossed another glance behind her to the dwarf. “I’m so sorry you have to hear all of this. We like to have fun, my husband and I.”

Raphael’s hand squeezed her hip to draw her attention back to him.

“And what are you asking for in return?”

“Nothing, really…” She personified innocence and combed through his hair as if to put a stray lock back behind his ear. “Just a measly piece of armor… that I won’t be wearing… when I’m naked...”

She could tell Raphael was thinking of her naked.

And she could tell he liked what he was seeing.

“Very well, wife.” The grip at her hip jostled her, and he pulled her closer. His mouth lowered to her ear and his voice lowered in a way that melted her insides. “But you will be coming ‘home’ with me after this purchase, and I expect you naked once we’re in the door.”

She didn’t mean to moan, but it happened at the same moment her brain malfunctioned. Tav forgot she was standing in a shop, and she forgot about the breastplate; she was too busy imagining herself standing in a certain House with Raphael’s eyes on her naked body.

“Ahem,” announced the dwarf, bringing her back to reality. “My lord, with all due respect…”

Raphael breezed around her and landed at the shorter than average counter - leaving Tav gaping like a goldfish in the background.

“My wife requests the ‘measly piece of armor’,” Raphael said sarcastically.

Tav came back to earth. 

“The breastplate,” she corrected, her back to them.

“Yes, the measly breastplate,” Raphael additionally corrected.

“Of course, my lord. The cost comes to four-thousand gold.”

At that, Tav spun around - indignant.

“Hey! You said six-thousand, ‘take it or leave it’!”

The dwarf did not pay her any mind, and neither did Raphael.

“Four-thousand is an agreeable sum… yet I would like to offer you more,” the cambion said smoothly. “How about I pay you one-thousand now, and, say in three day’s time you come to Sharess’ Caress to see if we can’t work out a better deal?”

Tav was livid to see the shop-owner considering the offer.

“I accept, Lord Raphael. One-thousand gold for now.”

Tav returned to being a goldfish - sputtering nonsensically, enraged as Raphael snapped his fingers and handed over a pouch full of coin.

“For your wife,” the dwarf said, handing her new measly breastplate over to her ‘husband’.

“Ha! He’s not my husband!” Tav declared, needing to spread the foolishness she felt onto the shop-owner.

Raphael chuckled as he strolled over to her with the armor in hand.

Tav glowered at him. “Smooth-talking bastard…”

He stopped before her, snapped again, and the breastplate disappeared. “The breastplate is yours - once the House is clean and tidied, dearest wife.”

He held out his hand to her. 

“I regret giving you your hat,” she said, taking his offered palm.

“We’ll see if you feel the same - after your eight hours.”

Raphael smiled as heat swam in her core, and he teleported them to his House of Hope with a burst.

In the ‘door’ where they stood, his smile became exceedingly devilish.

“Now, my little mouse of a wife… strip.”

[Part ll]

[sylvaridreams]

rest in peace to Bourbon's best friend from the Aetherblades; you would have fucking hated what he did after you died. 🙏

through the beautiful power of music I solidified a new chunk of Bourbon backstory, specifically his time with the Aetherblades :) :) :) #GETWORSE

[booty-uprooter]

this week's poll is a two-parter. the gatherer one is here

[brightwingedbat]

AAAA HE RECOGNISES MEEE

I decided to do the Falling Star quest on Naz (My Armorsmith) since she's gonna be using it but this just solidified it even more

[unicorn-shieldmaiden]

Alrighty, this might be a long shot, but I'm hoping the Willow (2022) fandom can help me out!

I dabble in armorsmithing and I'm currently elbow deep in the concept/patterning stages of a functional (leather, plate, chain and scalemaille) reproduction of the Kymerian Cuirass, but having some trouble getting my grubby hands on enough good-quality reference photos (THANK YOU DISNEY...). If anyone has any detail shots of the Cuirass, I would appreciate anything I can get in terms of references!

Aside from the changes I have needed to make to get it to actually function, like adding straps and more rivets and such, I'd like to keep the design as faithful to the original as possible, because the show means so much to so many of us.

In addition, if anyone has any other suggestions, I'd love to hear them! I'm not a cosplayer by trade, and this is my first foray into reproducing an existing character rather than designing my own kit.

Attached below is an example of the sort of work I usually do. If anyone is willing to help me out, please feel free shoot me a message!

[oddlyzephyrous]

Bad being like. The local armorsmith/weaponsmith/enchanter guy is so fun to me. the fantasy fan in me is so excited thinking about it, like engraving the runes, etc etc... it's so fun :3

[theanoninyourinbox]

For the MLP x Warriors asks, can I request Tawnypelt, Rowanstar, and their kids (Dawnpelt, Tigerheart, and Flametail) please?

A snapshot of a Shady Swamps home - featuring Happy Daze, Brawny Bones, and their kids Dawn, Comet (named after the Thunder Falls Mayor), and Tulip! Plus a newspaper clipping of grandma Gilded Rose, formerly Gilded Lily, accepting a Horse Oscar for her performance in The Rose Red Manor, a haunted house tale!

(Dawn becomes Dawn Treader, an armorsmith, Comet becomes Comet Mane, beloved pediatrician, and Tulip changes his name to Hot Rod when his mechanic talent comes in)

[zlo-sovs-lifeboat]

heyyy, you probs have strong opinions on helmets, so i'll ask about your strong opinions on helmets.

I have strong opinions on everything, but when it comes to helmets i only really have the big 4:

Italians did more evil by being armorsmiths than fascists.

2. The hounskull is a great gift (for your enemy)

3. 4 centuries worth of German smiths did more for our collective culture as mankind than the entirety of japan in it's whole exsistance.

4. Sallets are the figurative Pugs of helmet world. The further they strayed from the kettle shape the worse they got.

[poorlytunedukulele]

Day 2 - Tower/Day 4 - Reunion

Over his years as the Vanguard, Andal Brask finds himself falling into certain routines.   It’s not bad, exactly- he does things for a reason, and without the chaos of a wild Hunter life constantly throwing spanners into his works, those reasons tend towards similar means.  His Consensus days, for example, always begin with a pot of tea.  Enough for a nice large mug to soothe his morning nerves, and the rest to fill a thermos for sipping during the hours-long debates.  He chooses a couple of Crucible feeds with funny commentators to put on in the background while doing busywork.  He acquires a favorite baker’s stall on the concourse.  He takes walks in the same courtyards.

Some habits are born out of necessity.  He finds himself showering at the same time every day (partially driven by a need to sleep in, partially to avoid the crowds in the Hunter dorm’s communal bathrooms).  He becomes a regular at a few restaurants he can drop by for a quick, dependable lunch on his breaks.  He stops short of taking the same route to work every day, but when he’s running late, he knows the quickest path by heart.

Some routines, though, are born of joy.  He has his welcome speech for new Guardians down pat, with just the right mix of showmanship and reassurance.  The look of wonder in their eyes as they take in the Tower never gets old.  (A few years into his tenure and he’s already made far too many farewells.  He tries to savor the introductions when he can.)

His favorites, however, are the reunions.  He can go weeks without seeing his Pack in person.  They come by the Tower more often now, but their schedules don’t always align.  He’s busy.  They’re busy.  So when they do have a chance to get together and catch up, he tries to make the most of it.

Shiro, he tries to ply with new, interesting things.  They visit foundries and armorsmiths, test out guns, debate the merits of just-invented technologies and old relics.  Andal keeps the spiciest bits of gossip and intel for him.  They go out to museums, too, and good restaurants.  There are a thousand cool things the City has to offer, if you’re willing to spend the time to find them.  In his heart, Andal knows it’s not really the sights Shiro keeps coming to see.  He gets the feeling he could start taking the younger Hunter to Thaumaturgy lectures and he’d still keep tagging along.  It’s not the novelty that Shiro needs, it’s the sense of normalcy.  He needs to be reminded there’s a world away from Fallen troop movements and Hive rituals.

When Azra comes back, he’ll take her out to dinner, as well.  Someplace quiet, or with takeout to bring back to his room.  Maybe they go for a walk, or go look at some gear.  But he’s always sure to, at minimum, load her stomach with good food and pack up the leftovers for her (she’s always been the type to just go for the easiest thing around, and he worries).  And he’ll ply her for information on whatever exotic locale she’s run off to lately.  He’ll trade her stories with ones of his own- funny anecdotes from strikes, Vanguard intel that’s technically top-secret, the likes.  They talk about anything that isn’t the City.  Even when Azra’s just touched down, she’s always itching to go.  It pains Andal that he never quite sees her comfortable anymore.  He remembers the bored, ponderous conversations and the lazy musings she used to drop into the quiet of the woods.  She used to nap.  He has to pray that the others are keeping a safe place for her.

Tevis needs a room more than anything else.  A safe place to sleep and a confidante.  His demons have always had sharp claws and a lot of stamina.  Andal knows he talks to Shiro some, and Azra more, but as the two oldest in their pack, Andal and Tevis have always shared a special bond.  So the Nightstalker will drop by and Andal will make him some tea, and maybe they’ll talk and maybe they won’t, but they always end up curled together on the futon when the sun sets.  Whatever’s said in the dead of night, whatever worries are breathed, whatever tears are shed, they stay there.  The morning is always better for it.  Tevis will make omelets, and with the sun streaming through the open windows, they can talk about lighter things.  Andal notices how Tevis’s shoulders sag less when he leaves.  He measures it and hopes it is enough.

When Cayde comes back from some long haul, they always take a night on the town.  Drinking, eating, getting up to general mischief (as much mischief as the Hunter Vanguard can get away with, in any case).  Their time together is always bright and exciting.  Andal notices how it becomes a bit more frantic as the years go on.  Both he and Cayde are trying to make up for lost time, and they’re both always coming up short.  They sing and dance and Cayde’s smile is always a little too eager, his optics a little too bright.  Somewhere, Cayde is realizing that this might be all he ever gets.  Every time the sun rises and Cayde trundles back out into the wilds, Andal promises himself if won’t be.

AO3 Linky!