Journeywomen days
After Fionrah had finished her apprenticeship, she set out to go on a journey. She could improve her skills at other blacksmiths. She warmly said goodbye to Anton and his family and also to her best friend Johlanda and her family. Then she set off on foot towards Greenvalley, arriving in Cattlemarked at noon.
There she was joyfully welcomed by her colleague Edwin Schmalhans. She had known him for years, because he was not only a blacksmith but also a metal trader. He came by the Arneravine every three months. With his two wagons, each pulled by two powerful draft horses, he brought various metals from the north. He always stayed overnight with the blacksmiths after Emil had bought his needs of metals . "A beautiful woman with a sword," laughed Edwin as Fionrah approached the market street. "I have to show what I can do, a woman as a blacksmith, otherwise no one will believe me." "Yes, you may be right, come, come in and sit at the table. Frederike will serve lunch soon."
Fionrah sat down at the table, feeling relieved to finally have a moment of rest after her long journey. She watched as Edwin bustled around the forge, hammering away in tireless rhythmic blows. As she watched and sipped her tea, she couldn't help but feel a sense of admiration for the skilled blacksmith before of her.
"So, tell me Fionrah," said Edwin as he sat down across from her. "What brings you to Cattlemarked?"
"I've completed my apprenticeship and I want to keep improving my skills," she replied, a determined look in her eyes. "I heard that there were some of the best blacksmiths in Greenvalley, so I decided to come here to learn from them."
Edwin nodded, a proud smile spreading across his face. "You've made the right choice. The blacksmiths here are some of the most skilled in the land. I'm sure you'll learn a great deal."
Just then, Frederike entered the room, carrying a tray of steaming hot food. Fionrah's mouth watered at the sight of the roasted meat and vegetables, and she eagerly began to eat. "I have a proposition for you, Fionrah," Edwin said as they sat at the table enjoying their meal. "I have an order for five breastplates for the Dragon Hunter Guild and I could use an extra pair of skilled hands. What do you say, would you be interested in helping me with this project?"
Fionrah was intrigued. She had never worked with armor before and was eager to learn more about it. "I would be happy to help you with the breastplates, Edwin. It would be a great opportunity for me to expand my knowledge of armor forging."
Edwin was pleased with her response. "That's great! I was hoping you would say that. We can start tomorrow. I have all the materials we need and we can work in my forge here in Cattlemarked. We'll make a great team, I just know it."
And so, Fionrah's journey as a blacksmith took a new turn as she joined forces with Edwin to craft fine breastplates for the Dragon Hunter Guild. She threw herself into her work, eager to learn and perfect her craft. With each strike of the hammer and each glowing billet, she felt her confidence and skills grow.
As Fionrah and Edwin worked together in the forge, customers came and went, at times they put down there tools for a pleasant chat with the regulars. They talked about the weather, recent events in town, and their work. Some customers were in a hurry and just wanted to place or pick up their order, while others lingered and chatted more.
"Good morning, Edwin," said a man who walked in, looking at Fionrah curiously. "Who's this new apprentice you have here?"
"Good morning, Gerd," replied Edwin, smiling. "This is Fionrah, my colleague. She's an journeyman that came down from Arneravine. In fact, she's helping me forge some shovels, axes, and horse-drawn ploughs this week"
"Really?" said Gerd, looking impressed. "She's quite talented then. I'll have to come back and see some of her work."
As the day went on, Fionrah and Edwin discussed her side project, the elegant polished dagger with a asymmetric blade. They talked about the materials she needed, the best way to sharpen the blade, and how to make the handle comfortable to grip.
"That sounds like a beautiful piece of work," said Edwin. "I'm sure it will be a hit with customers. I've got some fine materials in stock, if you'd like to use them for your project."
"Thank you, Edwin," said Fionrah, grateful for his support. "I really appreciate it."
As they worked, they talked to several other customers, and Fionrah noticed that they were all impressed with her skills and her passion for blacksmithing. After completing several Daggers she choose one for her self. It was one of her finest works. The elegant polished dagger with narrow blade had a dull and scandy grinded side for pressing agains someone to scare and intimidate without cutting them. In contrasts with the wider side a razor sharp hollow grind angled into almost spherical pinpoint tip. Tested on a pig, held at a angle the tip would just poke at the skin a turn of the wirst and the blade drove thru like butter. With her growing knowledge of armor forging and her passion for unique and intricate weapon-making, Fionrah sets herself apart as a skilled blacksmith.
A fine hunting knife and some custom-made chisels she gave to one of her customers and a local fletcher in exchange for a bow and arrows and a set of cosily lined vambraces for her self.
Fionrah was always fascinated by the life in Cattlemarket and the surrounding towns. Everywhere she went, she saw people working hard to make a living and trying to build a better life for themselves and their families. She had been working for a year in Cattlemarket before she ventured out to new horizons.
From Cattlemarked, Fionrah continued south, she eventually came upon the sprawling hills and the massive mill that dominated the landscape, whoes giant wings turned slowly in the breeze. Beyond the mill further down the Valley lied the natural border of the Ringowyn River. After a few hours of traveling she followed the river east to the town of Smokersville. The town lived up to its name as a light scent of smoke and fish drifted through the streets.
As she made her way through Smokersville, she couldn't help but stop and take in the sights and smells of the bustling town. Fishermen were bringing in their catches and hanging them up to smoke, while women hurried about, buying and selling goods at the market. The road leading through the town was paved with large stones and followed the course of the river
Fionrah stopped to talk to a few of the locals, asking about their lives and learning about the town's history and traditions. She was particularly intrigued by the art of smoking fish, and she asked the fishermen about their techniques and the types of fish they caught in the river.
As she continued her journey, she was struck by how different each town was, with its own unique character and traditions. But despite their differences, the people she met were all hard-working and friendly, with a shared love for their land and their families.
The road leading out of town ended at the banks of the towns half island. There is no bridge over the mighty Ringowyn, but a large ferry operates along a massive chain that spans the river. It can ferry heavy wagons and horses. On each bank, there are two towers built of stone, between them a boarding gangway is suspended on chains. Depending on the water level, it can be moved further up or down. A little further upstream, there are even more massive stone towers set in the banks of each side of the river, between them a chain is stretched, on which a pulley runs. The ferry is anchored on this pulley so that it is not carried downstream by the river. The ferry looks like a small bridge, but the two pillars do not end in a foundation in the river bed, but in the body's of two large ships. Large rudders are attached to the stern, if they are set in the river current, the ferry is drawn along the chain to the other side.
The ferry was already on its way to the other side of the river when Fionrah arrived at the towers to borde. The sun had long since set when it completed is round trip and she finally could crossed over. Now she was on the southern bank of the Ringowyn and in the Kingdom of Chatelanovia, which consisted of an extensive forest area. She therefore stayed at the inn set beneath the two towers. With her in the inn there were staying three carters who transported empty wagons of coal back from Arnenland. There was only one large table in the round kitchen. Two of the carters were older men, but one was only slightly older than Fionrah. He had been looking at her strangely for a while, paying particular attention to the sword and bow she was carrying on her, which was admittedly not the norm. "Say hunter, are you traveling alone? What's your name and where are you heading?" he finally asked. "I am Fionrah, a wandering blacksmith." "You're a girl. Don't tell me nonsense," he laughed. "A girl can also be a blacksmith," protested Fionrah. One of the older ones then said, "That may be or not be, anyway, we will set off for Coalburnerforrest in the morning if you don't want to travel alone, there is still room for you on our wagon." Fionrah found the old man to be a bit too cheeky, but she did not want to decline a wagon ride to the next town, and said, "I would be happy to accept your invitation." he nodded and then changed the subject, talking about the coal trade and the situation in Chatelanovia. Fionrah listened attentively and asked questions from time to time. She learned a lot about the Kingdom, the forests and the people who lived there. After dinner, the three carters retired to their room in the other tower to sleep, while Fionrah stayed with the two daughters of the innkeeper.
The next morning, before sunrise, the group set off. Thick fog had enveloped everything, and one of the older carters led the way, leading his horse with the reins. The boy followed behind, and at the end of the procession was the wagon of the carter who had invited them. Fionrah lay in the bed of the coal cart, the back removed for unloading, and the last customer had carefully swept the wagon to get hold of every last bit of coal. Fionrah swayed back and forth, watching as the road dissolves in to the fog, which rose in renewing swaths from the forest floor.
She fell asleep, and when she woke up, daylight had broken and the canopy had opend up. They drove past a couple of men who were rolling a large tree trunk onto a long wagon using a ramp. When they passed the wagon, two large brown draft horses came into view. She watched grow smaller and eventually disappeared into the green of the forest as the road curved slightly. A few hours later, there was a taste of smoke in the air.
She looked around, scanning the forest and the sky to identify the source, but she saw nothing. She got up and moved forward to the cart driver. "Do you smell the smoke in the air?" he asked her. "Those are the charcoal kilns that are burning around Charbony. We will arrive in the city soon. But we want to keep going because our charcoal kilns are located south of the city."
"That's okay," Fionrah replied. "You don't even need to stop. I can jump off."
The forest became lighter and was now crisscrossed with grassy fields where cows grazed. The first fields came into view, surrounded by hedges. After a while, it was no longer possible to tell if there was still forest behind the hedges.
But between the fields, the first isolated farmhouses appeared. Then the road was increasingly lined with houses, some of them residential, but more were warehouses, surrounded by stone walls that bore large piles of ore and coal, as well as stables. Alleys branched off and disappeared between the stone buildings, and the road became wider. Merchants offered various metals for sale, such as iron, copper, tin, silver, and gold. Other goods were also for sale, such as soapstone in various shapes and sizes, bricks, and window glass.
Fionrah said her Farewell to the coal carters and jumped off the back of the wagon. Here the road crossed a wider street, in the middle of which a large cast-iron post rose up with large bronze signs hanging from it. One read "Avenue to Arneland" and showed where she had come from along the street. The other read "Avenue of hammer and anvil." Behind the post was a huge bronze fountain trough. The road split and led around both sides of the trough, but it was still very generous.
Fionrah heard the sound of hammer blows, which echoed through the air, carrying with them a slightly pungent metallic smell. "This is the right place for me to develop my skills as a blacksmith," thought Fionrah, and she strolled up the street. On the right-hand side, she passed a large, elongated building with "Bell Foundry Charbony" written on it. Two finished bells stood in the yard.
