Mage Joan

"Hey! The hammer is on! See who is coming, isn't this our dear mage!"

As soon as Qiao An entered the gate of the wrought iron workshop, he heard a familiar laugh. Flint's nephew Tom ran over in surprise and couldn't help but give him a big hug. The strong dwarf blacksmith easily picked up the young mage who was higher than himself, as easily as lifting a bag of potatoes.

"Joan! It's been so long since I came back to visit my old friend. It's not interesting!" Tom asked Joan to put down and asked cheerfully, "Come and tell me, how do you deal with that dozen of evil goblins?" "

"A dozen?" Qiao An was stunned.

"Everyone said that you were hit by a dozen evil goblin attacks in the Algonquin Valley. With a smart mind and powerful spells, they killed all the robbers. Of course, they paid a price for it... sorry, I don’t It's time to say this." Tom glanced at Joan carefully, looking away from his right eye deliberately.

"There is only one soul stealer, where's a dozen..." Joan felt helpless at these outrageous rumors. Starting from Aunt Barbara, when people spread his encounters, people always seem to unconsciously add some fictional components, and the evil goblin that caused him to lose his right eye also grew larger and larger, and it became a dozen in Tom’s ears. Much.

Joan briefly talked about his experience in the village of Powatán, and then returned to the topic, asking Tom if he could spare his time to teach him forging skills.

"Of course I'm free. I'm bored and plan to sneak out for a drink!" Tom said cheerfully.

"Is the work in the blacksmith shop very leisurely?" Qiao An asked in surprise. In his impression, the blacksmith turned around the iron furnace from morning to night, and the non-stop wheel forging hammer was one of the hardest jobs in the world. How could Tom be so relaxed?

"Busy is very busy, but mainly the machine and the apprentices are busy. My supervisor does not need to do anything by himself." The young dwarf grinned and took Joan's hand to the workshop. "Now Today's forging iron workshop is very different from the old-fashioned blacksmith shop. Many of the work previously performed by humans have been replaced by automatic forging hammers. The blacksmiths only need to show their skills in key processes. Let me take you to visit."

Joan walked around with Tom in the workshop, and was deeply impressed. The "Flint Workshop" already has the prototype of a modern factory, which uses a waterwheel to draw automatic forging hammers to process pig iron. The crude steel produced in this way is further processed with a hydraulic machine tool to cut out the blanks of utensils, and then it is manually polished into smooth iron products by craftsmen.

In addition to the forging workshop, there is also a casting workshop in the workshop. The craftsmen inject the molten iron into the sand vane, and when the molten iron cools, the sand vane is crushed to obtain castings, which are then processed and polished by hand, and a cast iron appliance is considered completed.

"Cast iron utensils are more convenient to process, but the texture is relatively brittle. It is only suitable for processing daily necessities such as pots and pans. The strength of agricultural tools and weapons is higher. Cast iron is not enough. Forging is still necessary." Tom is very patient. Explain to Joan.

"Tom, if I want to build a dagger, where do I start?"

"Well, I can't explain in a few words, you should try it yourself."

Tom ran to the warehouse where the steel was piled up, selected a half-inch thick, three-inch wide, and one-foot long steel plate, and took Joan back to the hydraulic machine. He taught him how to use a milling machine to cut the steel into a dagger. The general outline of, and then drilled three small holes for fixing the wooden handle at the end of the dagger with a hydraulic drill.

"The dagger blank is available, and then it is our blacksmith's fortune-forging!"

Tom took off his coat to reveal a strong muscle. Skillfully picked up the iron tongs and stuffed the dagger blank into the torch, burned to red, took it out on the anvil, and rounded up the forging hammer and ping pong.

Joan watched the dagger burst from Mars between the anvil and the forging hammer, feeling inexplicably excited, and asked Tom aloud, "Let me try it?"

Tom raised his head and looked up and down at him for a while, then nodded slightly: "Maybe, but I will help you change a forging hammer."

Joan took advantage of his time to turn around and tried to grab the large forging hammer next to the anvil. One hand couldn't pick it up at all, and the two hands worked together to barely raise it, let alone forging.

"This is a hammer used by children of our dwarf family when they first learn to make iron. You give it a try." Tom handed over a smallest forging hammer.

Joan tried it in his hand and felt that the weight was just right. He smiled satisfactorily and beat hard with Tom's instructions. The iron was really exhausting. Joan was sweating and tired after five minutes of beating. He simply took off Tom's coat and wore only a short-sleeved vest to continue to forge the red dagger.

While he was burying his head in iron, Mr. Flint walked over with his hands on his back, and saw Joan slamming his head in iron with sweat, and couldn't help laughing.

Joan looked up to see Flint, quickly put down the hammer, and scratched his head awkwardly.

"Don't look at me, go on!" Flint made a gesture of encouragement.

Joan blushed and grabbed the small forging hammer and continued to compete with the dagger blank. After repeatedly beating for ten minutes, he was too tired to lift his arms, and Flint motioned to stop him.

"Mr. Flint, I..." Joan looked at the dagger on the anvil that he had beaten into a loach, and he was ashamed. "I have a lot to learn about forging."

"Yeah, you still need to learn, my child." The old dwarf pinched the young mage's white and slender arms and added a smile with a smile, "but before that, it's more important for you to eat more Meat, how long it is, just this toy forging hammer can't create a decent weapon."

Joan lowered his head, feeling deeply self-confident.

"Don't think I'm laughing at you, good boy. As a mage, you will be very rare if you are willing to succumb to the hammer."

The old dwarf waved away his nephew trying to replace Joan's forged dagger, rolled up his sleeves, picked up the forging hammer himself, and waved a powerful blow to the anvil.

Expert shots are extraordinary. Joan's own beating was pure noise, but Mr. Flint's iron hitting sound was as rhythmic as drumming. It sounded not only harsh, but also made Joan feel excited.

After just ten minutes, the twisted "loach" on the anvil was reborn under Flint's forging, and transformed into a beautiful wave-edged dagger.

"My uncle hasn't worked on forging weapons personally for a whole year. The opportunity is rare. Looking carefully, I really can't just learn it by hand." Tom reminded Joan softly.

Joan nodded and noted Flint's forging technique.

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