2nd of Ymiden, Arc 722
Praetorum squinted at the arrowhead in his hand, trying to memorize its weight and size. He was far less familiar with arrowheads than he was with the broadheads of a crossbow bolt, but they followed the same basic design. A socket at the back, a sharp point at the front. Easy, right?
Evidently not.
Putting down the arrowhead in his hand, Prae sighed at the assortment of heads laid out across his table. Who would have guessed there were so many types? There were different arrows for hunting small, medium and large game—you weren't going to get any good meat out of a rabbit obliterated by a huge broadhead, and a blunt head would just bounce off a boar's thick hide—different arrows for shooting mounts, birds, men—and then there were different arrows too depending on how heavily armored they were too—and even a strange, crescent shaped arrowhead that Prae could not discern the use of.
He'd ask Valbjorn or Aelyn later, Prae supposed. He was pretty sure he could make these weird arrowheads if he had to, but he wasn't going to until he knew they were important. Picking up a rod of iron, Praetorum tossed the front of it into the forge. He'd start by making a dozen of the smaller arrowheads, Prae decided, and then work his way up. The others would tell him later which arrowheads were mostly commonly used, that they would need more of.
In fact, while his metal was heating up, Prae figured, he might as well try to make a few of the smallest arrowheads of all.
Picking up a thin rod of wood, Prae pulled out his knife, and began to sharpen one end of it. These were arrows so simple they required no metal at all, just a taper at one end that would then be fire hardened into a sharp point. Praetorum was not nearly as good at the working of wood as he was of metal, not by a long shot—but this was simple enough even for him, to shave off curl after curl of wood until the end of it tapered into a point.
His first try was a little too shallow, the angle at the head too broad, and Prae knew enough about archery to understand that a point like this wouldn't be able to punch through even the thinnest hide. So he slid his knife a little further back, and began narrowing the point further. It was pleasantly quiet, shaving off bits of wood. Much quieter than smithing was. The noise had never bothered Prae before, but now, when colours would spark in his vision with every sound... It didn't hurt, but it was distracting. Even irritating, sometimes. Still, he supposed he'd gotten off lightly. Either it would fade in time, as overgiving symptoms often did, or it wouldn't, and he'd get used to it.
Before long, the arrow shaft was finished, and his metal up to temperature. Laying the arrow aside to be fire hardened later, Prae padded over to the forge, and pulled the iron rod out of the flames. Laying the white hot section across the anvil, Prae plucked his hammer from the table, and began to flatten out the metal.
The first step in making any metal arrowhead was always the socket. With firm, steady hammer strokes, he spread the tip of the rod into a fat, rounded triangular shape, hammering it flat, trying to ignore the sunset red blooming in his vision from the sound of metal on metal. Then, he switched to another, smaller hammer, and used the cross-peen to start rounding the socket, starting from the middle and working out towards the sides, always careful to keep the hammer blows aligned with the metal so the curve would come in straight.
The sharp edge of the cross-peen dented the metal, making it curl in on itself, until he had it in something of a semi circle shape. That was good enough for Prae to switch back to a larger hammer, and hammer from the outer edge instead, curling both sides of the metal in on itself until they started to overlap. As he hammered lightly, Prae kept up a constant rotation on the socket, trying to keep it as evenly circular as possible. So far, crafting an arrowhead was very much like crafting a spearhead, only in miniature. The only difference was, Prae didn't have a beak iron small enough to shape the socket around, so he had to be careful and do it freehand.
Once he was done, Prae set the metal back into the fire. Once it was again up to temperature, he laid it against a hot cut tool, and neatly severed the part of the rod that would become the arrowhead, about two inches out from the end of the socket. Now, he could begin the real work of making an arrowhead.
The arrowhead he was making this trial was a bodkin arrow, meant to punch through armor and dig deep into the poor bastard beneath. He started with hammering out the rough shape of the arrow. Unlike the broadheads Prae used for hunting, a bodkin was not flat, instead being more square when looked at from the very tip. This shape made it quite easy to make from a rod—all Prae had to do was hammer all four sides evenly until it tapered into a square point. Grasping the socket with a pair of pliers, Prae proceeded to do just that, turning the arrowhead this way and that to get all four sides evenly.
Once he had the rough shape, he gave it a few firm taps to straighten it back out, and then began elongating the arrowhead. Just like with the wooden point, the tip had to be narrower, or else it wouldn't be able to punch through plain wood, never mind solid metal. The trick was to be firm with the hammer, but not excessively heavy handed. Iron, especially hot iron, was more malleable than people realized. It didn't take long for Prae to finish, and he set the now completed arrowhead aside with a smile. It was always satisfying to be able to finish something, even something this small.
Now, only a dozen or so more to go.
Praetorum squinted at the arrowhead in his hand, trying to memorize its weight and size. He was far less familiar with arrowheads than he was with the broadheads of a crossbow bolt, but they followed the same basic design. A socket at the back, a sharp point at the front. Easy, right?
Evidently not.
Putting down the arrowhead in his hand, Prae sighed at the assortment of heads laid out across his table. Who would have guessed there were so many types? There were different arrows for hunting small, medium and large game—you weren't going to get any good meat out of a rabbit obliterated by a huge broadhead, and a blunt head would just bounce off a boar's thick hide—different arrows for shooting mounts, birds, men—and then there were different arrows too depending on how heavily armored they were too—and even a strange, crescent shaped arrowhead that Prae could not discern the use of.
He'd ask Valbjorn or Aelyn later, Prae supposed. He was pretty sure he could make these weird arrowheads if he had to, but he wasn't going to until he knew they were important. Picking up a rod of iron, Praetorum tossed the front of it into the forge. He'd start by making a dozen of the smaller arrowheads, Prae decided, and then work his way up. The others would tell him later which arrowheads were mostly commonly used, that they would need more of.
In fact, while his metal was heating up, Prae figured, he might as well try to make a few of the smallest arrowheads of all.
Picking up a thin rod of wood, Prae pulled out his knife, and began to sharpen one end of it. These were arrows so simple they required no metal at all, just a taper at one end that would then be fire hardened into a sharp point. Praetorum was not nearly as good at the working of wood as he was of metal, not by a long shot—but this was simple enough even for him, to shave off curl after curl of wood until the end of it tapered into a point.
His first try was a little too shallow, the angle at the head too broad, and Prae knew enough about archery to understand that a point like this wouldn't be able to punch through even the thinnest hide. So he slid his knife a little further back, and began narrowing the point further. It was pleasantly quiet, shaving off bits of wood. Much quieter than smithing was. The noise had never bothered Prae before, but now, when colours would spark in his vision with every sound... It didn't hurt, but it was distracting. Even irritating, sometimes. Still, he supposed he'd gotten off lightly. Either it would fade in time, as overgiving symptoms often did, or it wouldn't, and he'd get used to it.
Before long, the arrow shaft was finished, and his metal up to temperature. Laying the arrow aside to be fire hardened later, Prae padded over to the forge, and pulled the iron rod out of the flames. Laying the white hot section across the anvil, Prae plucked his hammer from the table, and began to flatten out the metal.
The first step in making any metal arrowhead was always the socket. With firm, steady hammer strokes, he spread the tip of the rod into a fat, rounded triangular shape, hammering it flat, trying to ignore the sunset red blooming in his vision from the sound of metal on metal. Then, he switched to another, smaller hammer, and used the cross-peen to start rounding the socket, starting from the middle and working out towards the sides, always careful to keep the hammer blows aligned with the metal so the curve would come in straight.
The sharp edge of the cross-peen dented the metal, making it curl in on itself, until he had it in something of a semi circle shape. That was good enough for Prae to switch back to a larger hammer, and hammer from the outer edge instead, curling both sides of the metal in on itself until they started to overlap. As he hammered lightly, Prae kept up a constant rotation on the socket, trying to keep it as evenly circular as possible. So far, crafting an arrowhead was very much like crafting a spearhead, only in miniature. The only difference was, Prae didn't have a beak iron small enough to shape the socket around, so he had to be careful and do it freehand.
Once he was done, Prae set the metal back into the fire. Once it was again up to temperature, he laid it against a hot cut tool, and neatly severed the part of the rod that would become the arrowhead, about two inches out from the end of the socket. Now, he could begin the real work of making an arrowhead.
The arrowhead he was making this trial was a bodkin arrow, meant to punch through armor and dig deep into the poor bastard beneath. He started with hammering out the rough shape of the arrow. Unlike the broadheads Prae used for hunting, a bodkin was not flat, instead being more square when looked at from the very tip. This shape made it quite easy to make from a rod—all Prae had to do was hammer all four sides evenly until it tapered into a square point. Grasping the socket with a pair of pliers, Prae proceeded to do just that, turning the arrowhead this way and that to get all four sides evenly.
Once he had the rough shape, he gave it a few firm taps to straighten it back out, and then began elongating the arrowhead. Just like with the wooden point, the tip had to be narrower, or else it wouldn't be able to punch through plain wood, never mind solid metal. The trick was to be firm with the hammer, but not excessively heavy handed. Iron, especially hot iron, was more malleable than people realized. It didn't take long for Prae to finish, and he set the now completed arrowhead aside with a smile. It was always satisfying to be able to finish something, even something this small.
Now, only a dozen or so more to go.