- Location
- Gladstone, OR
This is a draft, and written less in explicit 'this is an artifact' terms. I'm mostly just in the mood to write some ornate prose about a workshop and magical crafting
The gods of craft and making have a long history of potency, as nearly every work of man and Exalt great or small elevates the divine ranks in prestiege and importance. In the Terrestrial sphere, the relationship has had it's fair share of tulmut, and many instances of divine aide have fallen into myth or ancient memory. he hand of the divine takes numerous forms as well, more than all the cultures and varied spirits themselves.
Godsmith Anvil
It is a known fact among savants and geomancers that industry and artifice leaves a mark on the dragon lines, both in large and small ways. One such way is that of the Godsmith Anvil. A great block of White Jade as wide as a man is tall is placed in an auspicious courtyard, ringed by workshops with their wide doors and open inner workings facing the center. As such only a handful can fit in the described ring.
The anvil itself is surfaced by a plate of jadesteel, nearly impervious to heat or impact. It is both tradition and expected practice to work out under the sky, invoking the blessings of whatever star or Incarnae ascends or descends. As a tool there are few equals and fewer superior examples. It's size precludes fine detail work, but weapon forging, armor smithing and the great plates of Warstriders all find time to sit on the anvil.
It's true worth however, lies in how the Godsmith Anvil awakens the spirits of that which is worked upon it. Daiklaves seem to shiver at their wielder's hips, while arrowheads cut the air in the archer's quiver. The exact effects of such an enlivened least god are never certain, but it is a vital step in complex artifice and magical working.
Forgemaster's Chant
Not an object or place, but an idea. The Forgemaster's chant is the archetypical invocation of the craft gods. Be it Steel-Whisperer Kalixa, god of throwing knives, or Jubilant Gourmand, high-god of cakes and baked desserts, there are chants, prayers and tapping beats they all approve of. Labor and craft mingle, soaking into the flows of Essence, while the smiths and creators hum their chants and forging songs. The prayer carries the magic from breath to hammer to finished piece.
The most general of chants are the broadest, meditative and focused largely on the worker. Timing one's breath to the strike of the hammer, counting heartbeats between pumps of the bellows. These are simple and often discovered, rediscovered and common across all Creation. Other chants aide in the incremental tasks, such as the Stone-Breaker Cadence, that ensures the stone shears apart as intended, or the Grain-Grasping Tune, which ensures the harvester takes every grain.
With specificity comes power, in which it is possible to discern and compose a prayer-pattern down from steel-making to knife-honing to throwing knives and further unto a hypothetically unlimited potential. Pioneered in the First Age, the ritual and culture of the Chant had its renissance in the Shogunate, where whole academies would shout with one voice the recital of 'Daiklaves of the Dragonblooded Host Defend Creation'.
Shrinemark Die
It is a common technique to carve a shrine mark into an object or hold a portrait of one's god as a mobile place of worship. To the craft gods, there are stronger ways. A Shrinemark Die is stamp, for metal, stonework, leather or even flesh- as long as one can leave an impression. The marks themselves are representative of a god, usually one relevant to the subject. Gods of war and martial prowess are common for swords, while leather cases full of medicine are marked with the symbols of health gods and healing.
More ambitious artificers stamp an object with multiple dies, creating temple complexes to an enclave or shared faith. A noteworthy heirloom sword was stamped down its fuller with the marks of the god who blessed the smith, the city god of its daimyo, the directional war god and a spirit of fine poetry.
Flaw-Catching Bell
An unforgiving tool, the Flaw-Catching Bell is a small device that can fit in the palm or sit on a desk. When struck by an Adamant hammer, severe flaws like poor tempering or rot in wood immediately and catastrophically reveal themselves. A sword might shatter, or a poorly-fired pot may collapse. Used as quality control or a means of defeating poorly crafted defenses, the Bell is dreaded by honest crafters and shoddy workmen alike.
Care must be kept as well, because the Bell affects everything that hears its sound, including the building it sits in, and there have been times where a Bell rings so often in the same room, that the tiniest flaws in its foundations grew larger and larger, until one day they collapsed...
The gods of craft and making have a long history of potency, as nearly every work of man and Exalt great or small elevates the divine ranks in prestiege and importance. In the Terrestrial sphere, the relationship has had it's fair share of tulmut, and many instances of divine aide have fallen into myth or ancient memory. he hand of the divine takes numerous forms as well, more than all the cultures and varied spirits themselves.
Godsmith Anvil
It is a known fact among savants and geomancers that industry and artifice leaves a mark on the dragon lines, both in large and small ways. One such way is that of the Godsmith Anvil. A great block of White Jade as wide as a man is tall is placed in an auspicious courtyard, ringed by workshops with their wide doors and open inner workings facing the center. As such only a handful can fit in the described ring.
The anvil itself is surfaced by a plate of jadesteel, nearly impervious to heat or impact. It is both tradition and expected practice to work out under the sky, invoking the blessings of whatever star or Incarnae ascends or descends. As a tool there are few equals and fewer superior examples. It's size precludes fine detail work, but weapon forging, armor smithing and the great plates of Warstriders all find time to sit on the anvil.
It's true worth however, lies in how the Godsmith Anvil awakens the spirits of that which is worked upon it. Daiklaves seem to shiver at their wielder's hips, while arrowheads cut the air in the archer's quiver. The exact effects of such an enlivened least god are never certain, but it is a vital step in complex artifice and magical working.
Forgemaster's Chant
Not an object or place, but an idea. The Forgemaster's chant is the archetypical invocation of the craft gods. Be it Steel-Whisperer Kalixa, god of throwing knives, or Jubilant Gourmand, high-god of cakes and baked desserts, there are chants, prayers and tapping beats they all approve of. Labor and craft mingle, soaking into the flows of Essence, while the smiths and creators hum their chants and forging songs. The prayer carries the magic from breath to hammer to finished piece.
The most general of chants are the broadest, meditative and focused largely on the worker. Timing one's breath to the strike of the hammer, counting heartbeats between pumps of the bellows. These are simple and often discovered, rediscovered and common across all Creation. Other chants aide in the incremental tasks, such as the Stone-Breaker Cadence, that ensures the stone shears apart as intended, or the Grain-Grasping Tune, which ensures the harvester takes every grain.
With specificity comes power, in which it is possible to discern and compose a prayer-pattern down from steel-making to knife-honing to throwing knives and further unto a hypothetically unlimited potential. Pioneered in the First Age, the ritual and culture of the Chant had its renissance in the Shogunate, where whole academies would shout with one voice the recital of 'Daiklaves of the Dragonblooded Host Defend Creation'.
Shrinemark Die
It is a common technique to carve a shrine mark into an object or hold a portrait of one's god as a mobile place of worship. To the craft gods, there are stronger ways. A Shrinemark Die is stamp, for metal, stonework, leather or even flesh- as long as one can leave an impression. The marks themselves are representative of a god, usually one relevant to the subject. Gods of war and martial prowess are common for swords, while leather cases full of medicine are marked with the symbols of health gods and healing.
More ambitious artificers stamp an object with multiple dies, creating temple complexes to an enclave or shared faith. A noteworthy heirloom sword was stamped down its fuller with the marks of the god who blessed the smith, the city god of its daimyo, the directional war god and a spirit of fine poetry.
Flaw-Catching Bell
An unforgiving tool, the Flaw-Catching Bell is a small device that can fit in the palm or sit on a desk. When struck by an Adamant hammer, severe flaws like poor tempering or rot in wood immediately and catastrophically reveal themselves. A sword might shatter, or a poorly-fired pot may collapse. Used as quality control or a means of defeating poorly crafted defenses, the Bell is dreaded by honest crafters and shoddy workmen alike.
Care must be kept as well, because the Bell affects everything that hears its sound, including the building it sits in, and there have been times where a Bell rings so often in the same room, that the tiniest flaws in its foundations grew larger and larger, until one day they collapsed...
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