==== September 8th, 2013
==== Aaron, Sori, Sytin, Safra
==== In the cacophony of the forge, Aaron directs his juniors to help Safra with her riding straps.

Smith Wing
And here, architectural integrity fails: chunks of the ceiling litter the floor, and in the gloom only spinnerwebs are visible in the high, arched emptiness above.

Well, it's a forge. Despite the non-forge like room desc. It's hot, it's loud, and it's full of rather large people hitting things with similarly large hammers. Amidst it all stands Aaron, decked out in a thick leather apron and a similar gloves. He's got a forge and an anvil to himself, and some poor apprentice pumping bellows on command.

Safra walks into the forge and stops in her tracks at the heat beating from the forge fires. Her eyebrows climb as she takes in the industry of the forge. Hammers rise and fall, their music filling the air with metallic chimes and clanks. Acrid smoke and damp steam add to the heat. It is not particularly a pleasant place, except that Safra enjoys craft. Misses it even. She steps up to the smith and raises a hand to get his attention just as…

Aaron has the freshly made spearhead gripped in a pair of tongs, and right as Safra steps up to him, he drops the hot metal into a quench tank. A small cloud of steam rises up from the tank of water, and the huge man nods to himself. Looking down at the little blond rider, he smiles, an arched eyebrow asking what he can do for her.

The steady ting of hammer hitting metal rings out as Sori works a bar of metal into the form of a runner's shoe. It's no small task for such a petite thing to swing such a large hammer while holding a bar of metal mostly still. The bar bounces with eacy bouncing hit of the hammer, the red of the metal showing just how hot it truly is. Work is everywhere, and look today Sori is sans any bandages to get in her way.

Sytin is that unlucky Apprentice. It is his first day, after all. Or maybe his second. Possibly third. They've all blurred together just a bit. His scrawny arms ache from working the bellow, and his face is covered in sweat and soot. His hair, normally pert and upright at the top has given up and now hangs limply in random directions. He stops as Aaron gestures for him to, not even bothering to acknowledge it verbally. After all, with all this ruckuss you can hardly be expected to be heard!

Hssssss!! The weyrling hops back startled at violence of the popping, roaring steam, audible even over the clamor of the forge in full swing. She glances around, hoping no one noted her startlement. She raises a hand to speak and - seeming all at once - hammers fall, bellows groan, flames roar, steam hissers. Really? She huffs and simply holds out a set of newly crafted riding straps. Her hands are blistered, worn and red from the work. She gestures with the dangling ends of straps where rings, findings, buckles, posts should be. She purses her lips speculatively at the large smith and pushes them at him hopefully.

Aaron eyes the straps for a moment, then reaches out and examines the ends for a bit. Nodding to himself, he holds up a single finger to Safra, a small grin on his face. Heading over to Sori's station, he waits until she's done with the shoe, then taps her on the shoulder and gestures her to follow. He then leads her back over to Safra, and gestures to the straps, while he goes over to the supplies area and comes back with a few ingots of steel. Pointing at Sytin, he draws a line in the air from him to Sori, indicating that she's giving the orders for now.

Sori looks up at the tap to her shoulder, and dumps the shoe into the quenching bucket. Pulling it out, she gives it a quick once over before setting it aside to finish later so that she can follow along behind Aaron. Once at the work station that the weyrling is standing at she is quick to take the riding straps to give them a once over. Her eye is practiced, and she's giving the leathers a light tug as she inspects them a grin is given to Safra and she moves over to a bench where the required findings, buckles, and such can be found. This won't take but a moment to find the required D-rings, clips, clasps, and other such findings, and the girl is practically humming as she digs through the drawers that hold all these tidbits. Yes, she's clearly in her element right now. Noise, noise, sweat, and more noise.

Sytin mops his brow with his tunic sleeve, sucking air into his lungs. It's a difficult task, giving the stiffling heat of the forge, but he puts his best effort into it none-the-less. His efforts to wipe moisture from his brow do work somewhat, but really he's just exchanging salt for soot as his forehead is now a lovely smear of coal and ash. Arm drops back down to his side and he looks over to Safra, tilting his head and trying to recognize the Weyrling. Nope, not a thing. His mouth opens for a second, looking like he's going to try and politely introduce himself. It hangs open for about ten seconds, looking awkward and then clamps shut as the Apprentice thinks better of it over the racket of Smithing, offering a meek wave instead.

Safra's eyes light with a grateful fervor as Aaron directs his apprentices to see to the work. She goes to salute Aaron smartly and inadvertently flips a strap end smacking her smartly in the face. Whack! Ow. Her eyes grow wide. My dignity. She swallows, ducking her head to Aaron as she hustles over to Sori to show the apprentice the straps. Standing nearby in case she needs anything. Standing there, hoping to be of help, but knowing it's probably best to stay out of the way, she meets the young bellows worker's eyes and waves weakly. Awkward.

And realize this Sori has, she's found nearly everything but those. The smaller stuff are all carefully lined up on a work bench, the leathers set beside and she's off to find the missing central ring which she thinks she saw over by where she had been working on the runner's shoe. This could be faulty memory, or tired memory; so she's careful to look around to be sure she's not missing anything. When the missing ring isn't found there Sori moves to where the tack pieces are kept, and grins as she comes up with the correct sized ring for the central piece.

Sytin winces as Safra cracks the straps into her face, his face screwing up into a pretty sympathetic grimace as she tries to regain her composure. It pains him to see a woman injured and his mouth opens as if to inquire after her, but the clang of metal, hiss of steam, and roar of the furnace just make that idea impractical at best, impossible at worst and so he snaps his hanging jaw shut with a clack that would be audible were it not for the clamor. His curiosity is piqued as the Journeyman gets the ignots and he moves away from the bellow to observe, wanting to soak in whatever knowledge he can with this deep amber eyes of his. He turns to Aaron, seeming to ask permission to observe and help, if needs be with a gesture pointing to eyes and then to ingots. Clear as mud, right?

Safra bounces on her toes, anxious to be of use. She dodges this way and that, simply trying to stay out of the way and then scowls. This isn't her turf. She's just in the way. She nods at the Journeyman and Apprentice and withdraws from the work area to stand near Aaron to watch. It's hard to form a though with the asymmetrically layered ringing rhythms. Glassworking wasn't like this at all. She turns over in her head what she might offer the smiths in return for this service. Riding straps! She'd be riding soon. Well, not soon. But soon! Safra bounces again, hands twitching.

Aaron looks a little disappointed as Sori finds the ring hidden amongst the tack gear, and lets out a sigh. Oh well, she'll still end up making one to replace it. He looks over the bits and pieces that Sori has collected and nods his approval, making sure that she sees the nod. He points at Sori, makes a gesture like a bag, and holds up a closed fist, then points to Safra. All those in a bag, for her, no charge.

Sori nods, and is well aware she's going to have to make a ring to replace the one she's found. In fact she's already going through a checklist of what she'll need to make new of everything she's pulled out. The appropriate bag is found, and the pieces are put into it then it gets a light tug on the pull strings that run through the top to secure them. When she's sure the tie is snug, the straps are collected, and all are returned to Safra with a questioning look, that asks need help?

Sytin offers Safra an encouraging grin, seeing her bouncing. His smile is probably the only part of him that isn't soiled with some form of Smithing debris, so it stands out brightly as he does so. Aaron does not seem to have seem his request, so the newly minted Apprentice making another gesture at the steel ingots, hoping this time the Journeyman will notice him over the clash of metal and reverb from the walls. Sori's actions at eyed as well, mostly because he's still trying to learn where in Faranth's name everything is still stored in this madhouse.

Safra blows out a great sigh and mops her brow with an arm. So hot. How do they stand it? Sori approaches and Safra's brow furrows, considering. Coming to a decision, she shakes her head at the Journeyman smith's questioning look. She tucks the pouch and straps securely under her arm and clasps her hands projects a nearly palpable gratitude to each of the crafters in turn - Sytin, Sori and Aaron for their efforts. Sweat is pouring down the young woman's back, front, her everywhere. She turns and walks away, pulling the bag open and peering into it as she goes. Not far, she stops and straightens abruptly, head coming up. She bolts off sketching a salute at the smithcrafters and fumbling straps and bag as she does so… catching them barely as she lengthens her stride and disappears.

Aaron returns the salute, then turns to Sori and Sytin, and starts showing Sytin how to prepare the ingots for forging, though he lets/makes Sori do the actual work…