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Hello again, all you wonderful folks out there! Today we’re going to take a look at Blacksmith, a very straightforward job. Based in Limsa Lominsa, Blacksmiths use cross-pein hammers and files to make a whole lot of weapons and tools, including its own. Almost everything BSM makes will either go in your hands, or be an ingot of metal some other crafter needs. It has a lot of overlap with Armorer, to the point where most ingots can be made by either class.
Located on the upper level of Limsa, the shared guildhall is in the south-east, closest to the Aftcastle aetheryte. It’s a bit of a trek to get over here… But that’s more of a concern for later. Let’s chat up the receptionist and get this show on the road.
Unless yer blind and deaf, I presume ye've wandered into our forge of yer own accord. Drawn by the siren song of our smitties' hammers, no doubt. In these here hallowed halls, Limsa's finest pound metal into all manner o' tools and weapons. And when I say Limsa's, I mean the whole bloody realm's. Make no mistake─ye need more than a big arm to join our ranks. But if ye've got iron in yer veins and the Builder's blessin', speak up.
Sure, I’ve definitely got some kind of blessing.
Heh! Well yer not short on confidence! But do ye truly know what yer gettin' yerself into here, lass? Ours is a trade born o' blood and brine. Fer as long as pirates have sailed the Rhotano, smitties have forged their weapons and fitted out their ships from keel to cannon. 'Course, “till sea swallows all” ain't just an idle sayin'─brine'll eat through even the stoutest iron given time, and our forebears long struggled to forge more rust-resistant alloys.
Lucky fer us, the smitties of eld were a determined bunch, and clever too. So when they learned that the kobolds knew somethin' of advanced metallurgy, the smitties set out to make it their own. Thanks to the kobolds' wisdom─which they generously gifted us with only the merest hint o' pirately promptin'─Lominsan smithin' came on leaps and bounds. 'Twasn't long before the Gridanians and Ul'dahns started eyein' our knowledge like we did the kobolds', though. And so, some hundred and fifty-odd years ago, two particularly forward-thinkin' men named Theor Naldiq and Bryce Vymelli had the bright idea of establishin' a respectable business. Bein' fair-minded fellows, they'd sell their wares to anyone who had the coin─pirates and foreigners included. And when folks weren't inclined to pay, they made sure to remind 'em that we hadn't completely forsaken our pirate ways.
Times have changed, though, and we're a wee bit more willin' to share our wisdom these days. The company's been runnin' the Blacksmiths' and Armorers' Guilds fer years now, welcomin' any soul with the necessary talent and will to work. As to whether ye've got enough of either...well, that's fer the forgemaster to decide. Speak to me when yer ready to present yerself to him.
I’m sure Ginger’s heard this at some point, but it bears repeating: a large part of Limsa’s metallurgical prowess and success is owed to the kobolds, who have had a bit of a rough hand dealt to them since. Such are not our concerns today though.
So what'll it be? Reckon ye've got what it takes to train with the best godsdamned blacksmiths in the realm?
You know it!
Hah, that's the spirit! If ye'd taken any longer to decide, I'd have told ye to bugger off no matter what ye said. Can't have half-arsed adventurers wastin' Forgemaster Brithael's precious time, see. He's got a lot of irons in the fire. That's why me and the other lads make a point o' keepin' idlers, imbeciles, and the otherwise unqualified from gettin' in his way. Anyroad, it's time ye went and paid yer respects to the man─he's the one over yonder makin' a face like he's carryin' the weight o' the world on his shoulders.
This man staring off into space, y’mean?
'Bout time Randwulf sent me a new recruit! Ahhh, it's been too long... Ahem. I'm Brithael, forgemaster o' the Blacksmiths' Guild. If yer aimin' to become a smitty worth the name, 'twould be my great pleasure to educate ye on the finer points o' the craft. Oh, the rest o' these sour-faced bastards'll tell ye it's hard, gruelin' work fit only fer the best an' brightest, but I say put a hammer in the hands o' the willin' an' see what happens! What d'ye say then, lass? Will ye swing a hammer fer ol' Brithael?
Brithael’s a man who likes to drink and who speaks a little roughly, but he’s a good-natured sort. Let’s swing a hammer for him.
Ha ha! I knew I liked ye the moment I set eyes on ye...er... What did ye say yer name was again?
Orokin Reactor. Don’t ask.
Orokin Reactor! A name fit fer a hero if ever I heard one! In fact, I reckon I did hear it in a bard's song once! ...Or was it that poor sod cursin' in his cups at the Wench? Bah! Don't matter if it was savin' the world or cuckoldin' yer husband─'tis time to forge yerself a new reputation, pound out a new legend! An' ye can trust ol' Brithael to help ye do it!
But there I go, puttin' the cart before the chocobo. Here, lass─take this cross-pein hammer. A smitty without a hammer is like me without a drink─bloody useless! Well, don't jus' stand there gawpin' at her. Take her in yer hands, have a few practice swings, whatever ye fancy! She's all yours now. Ah, what I wouldn't give to be you right now, lass. A smitty never forgets his first hammer... <sniff>
That charming lil’ bit about “cuckoldin’ yer husband”? For guys, he says “beddin’ someone’s mother”. Such a way with words, this man. Also, Orokin is still single. Alas, ever the third wheel. But never mind that, let’s get on with some smithing.
Now, that there is a beautiful sight... Never forget─a smitty's hammer is her one true love. Friends'll betray ye, lovers'll leave ye, but yer hammer'll never do ye no wrong. Gods, seein' ye standin' there reminds me of a less ale-sodden, more lady-shaped version o' me younger self… But on to yer task! We ain't a congregation o' soft-handed scholarlies here. Smitties learn by doin'!
Try yer hand at makin' a bronze ingot. Any smitty worth her salt's got to master the fundamentals, an' ye can't get more fundamental than that! It ain't complicated─bronze is jus' copper an' tin melted down an' mixed together. So ye'll be needin'...? Aye, that's it! Copper an' tin ore. An' seein' as most folk don't carry stuff like that 'round with 'em without reason, Smydhaemr outside can provide ye with some─fer a price, that is. What the lad can't sell ye, though, is the fire shard ye'll need. Aye─it ain't complicated, but that don't mean it's easy. Ye need to melt the metals, after all, an' to do that ye need to get 'em hotter than a Bombard's backside. An' that's all there is to it! Think ye can handle it, lass?
You know the drill, make basic item #1. Oh, and that bit about “a Bombard's backside”? "a flame-kissed whore's crotch." I can only assume Brithael has the clap, judging by that expression. Or possibly Scale-itch.
Remember, to make a bronze ingot, all ye need is copper, tin, an' a fire shard. Smydhaemr can sell ye the ore, but ye'll have to find the shard on yer own. 'Course, I'm tellin' ye this on the assumption that ye've still to do the job. If ye've done it already, show us yer work fer gods' sakes!
Heh heh...yer all right, lass. Better than that, even. Sure you ain't done this before? 'Cause honestly, this ain't what ye'd expect from a 'venturer fresh off the street. I think ye might be a bleedin' natural, lass! It takes jus' the right balance o' metals to produce bronze suitable fer weapons an' tools. But this ingot ye've made me, lass, it's on a par with them as our veterans produce. Ye could take this down to Hawkers' Alley and find a buyer in no time. Byregot's watchin' over ye, ain't no doubt about it.
Heh heh...ye've got talent, lass─but don't let it go to yer head. I've seen plenty o' folk get drunk on early success, only to puke their guts up later 'cause they forgot that talent's worth bugger all without hard work an' dedication. So I tell ye what: keep it simple fer now, lass. Practice the fundamentals till ye can smelt bronze in yer sleep. An' when ye've gained the kind o' confidence as only comes with experience, come back an' I'll teach ye somethin' new.
I’ll warn you folks right now: Blacksmith is probably the ARR crafter questline which is lightest on plot. But we can still have a good time with it, right?
Praise the Builder, I was afraid ye might've joined up with another crew! The thought of it pained me so much, I was down at the Wench till the mornin' bells, I was.
(Sure, not just because you’re a boozehound…)
But here you are, still brimmin' with potential─an' with some extra meat on yer smittin' arm, if me eyes don't deceive me! So, errr...somethin' new, somethin' new... O' course, how could I forget? Orokin Reactor, I bid ye craft three bronze cross-pein hammers─jus' like the ones all our apprentice smitties use. Fer this ye'll need bronze, maple lumber, an' hempen cloth. Now, I know makin' the bronze won't pose ye no trouble, but allow me to offer ye a bit of advice regardin' the materials. If ye want to save yerself some coin, ye might consider minin' yer own copper an' tin out in the wilds. An' if that don't tickle yer fancy, ye might consider whackin' the odd coblyn till it stops movin'. They lug ore 'round with 'em, see. An' it ain't as if swingin' a sword's all that different from poundin' a lump o' metal into shape, is it? At the end o' the day, though, how ye go about gettin' the bits an' pieces don't matter to me. I jus' want to see if ye can make a decent hammer. Do what needs doin' an' come back when it's done.
Usual advice about how you can save gil by gathering your own materials… Orokin bangs out the hammers right quick.
Where are them hammers I asked for, lass?
Heh heh...seems last time weren't no fluke. This here's some impressive work, lass. Now, a layman might look at this an' think ye'd jus' stuck a piece o' bronze on a maple stick, but ye've done a damn sight more than that─whether ye know it or not. A hammer's a tool, after all, an' the head's got to grip the shaft fer tens o' thousands o' strikes.
What's more, when a smitty's poundin' a red-hot piece o' metal, her hammer takes up some o' the heat an' swells a touch. Which ain't a problem─unless it's a poorly made piece o' shite. Take it from me, lass─there's few things more embarrassin' than flingin' a glowin' hammerhead over yer shoulder, straight into the eye o' yer newest apprentice...even if he did eventually get his sight back. But I reckon your hammers won't lead to any incidents like that!
<visible concern>
In short, I'm happy with what ye've done. Now, I'll spare us both the “don't rest on yer laurels” speech if it's all the same to you. Statin' the bleedin' obvious is best done with a drink in yer hand, I find. But well done, anyroad.
Here, ye'll be needin' this. A hammer'll suffice fer simple smithin', but complex jobs call fer a more delicate touch─which is what a file gives ye. Usin' one alongside yer hammer'll make yer life a good deal easier, whatever yer craftin'. Try smithin' somethin' simple─I guarantee ye'll see the difference. An' when ye've done that, do it again. I want ye to practice till ye can wield that file as well as yer hammer! Once ye've got the hang of it, come back here fer another task!
Let’s file this one away and continue the usual tutorial apace.
Ye know what, lass? It may not be my place to say it─me bein' yer guildmaster an' all─but I like ye. I really like ye! Together, there's naught we can't─ What? Why're ye makin' that face at me? Oh! No! I-I didn't mean it like that! Yer the most promisin' pupil I've had in gods know how long is all! I was just...waxin' sentimental fer a moment… Ye can't honestly tell me ye don't get a bit emotional when ye've been out the night before an'─
Gotten so sloshed you’re still feeling a buzz now?
Bah, forget it. Been workin' hard, have ye? Aye, I can tell. But this is jus' the beginnin', lass! Ye see, the art o' blacksmithin' is deeper than the deepest ocean─an' if ye plan on gettin' to the bottom of it, ye'll need to...ye'll need to… ...Sink? No, that's no good. All right, how about this: if ye mean to set sail fer the faraway land of...um...smithin' mastery, ye must─I mean, ye mustn't try to make the journey in a dinghy!
...
Bah, the hells with it. Jus' make me a dozen bronze rivets, lass.
<smirks> Can do, boss.
After that, uh… riveting conversation, Quick Synthesis gets its time to shine again.
How're them rivets comin' along? Any time now, lass.
Praise the Builder, ye've done it again! These rivets're perfect! Ah, but don't take that to mean they're special, 'cause they ain't. Ye see, rivets have got to be perfect, an' I'll tell ye fer why… If yer poundin' somethin' an' yer hammer breaks, ye can jus' grab a new one. But it's a whole other story when yer rivets fail.
Ever seen an airship, lass? Marvelous things, they are, but bloody complicated. Now, imagine yer a dozen malms above Limsa, an' yer fancy flyin' boat starts springin' rivets... Might be as it's from the engine, might be from the hull─don't make no difference. Whichever it is, yer royally buggered.
If I was on that airship, lass, takin' in the gorgeous view as the confounded contraption tumbled down to the earth below, I'd be cursin' them rivets with all me heart─aye, an' the half-arsed bastard as shat 'em out, too. An' ye wouldn't want that on yer conscience, would ye? Which is why ye must always make quality products what stand the test o' time.
To help ye learn the importance o' quality, I want ye to try smithin' fer payin' customers. Start by havin' a word with T'mokkri, down at the Wench. She should be able to point you in the direction of a few Lominsans as need the services of a talented lass like yerself. Hone yer craft, earn some coin─hells, have a drink while yer at it. The Wench is always servin'!
I can’t say I disagree with Brithael’s views there, especially seeing as I’m one of those who’s afraid of heights. Oh, and I neglected to point it out with Beatin, but L10 is where the guildmaster points you toward levequests. They can be done straight from L1 though.
Ah, hells─not now, lass! Can't ye see I'm strugglin' with a matter o' great import? Bein' forgemaster ain't all drink an' debauchery─'specially when H'naanza's breathin' down me neck. We're a business, she says, an' it's our job to ensure Naldiq & Vymelli's stays profitable or some such bollocks. To which I says, “Now look here, ye greedy shrew─we're makin' a mint off our commission from the Maelstrom, ain't we!?” Well, I mayn't've said shrew... Anyroad, the greedy shrew then starts yatterin' on about expandin' into new bleedin' markets… Says we should be sellin' more to the treefolk in Gridania─says I should be the one to develop a “plan of action.”
Seven hells, lass─I'm a smitty, not a merchant! I've never even been to bleedin' Gridania! Oh, an' it gets worse. See, we need a man with connections, don't we─someone as can make arrangements with the treefolk. So H'naanza goes an' finds one─right clever bastard by the sound of it─an' orders me to go an' meet him. So I goes an' meets him, only to find it's none other than bleedin' Faezahr. An' I'd sooner bash me own teeth in than talk to that piece o'─
Wait a minute! I know how to deal with this! You can talk to him! Ye'll help ol' Brithael handle this Gridanian nonsense, won't ye? 'Course ye will! Go on then, chop-chop!
H’naanza we haven’t met yet, but she’s the guildmaster for Armorers, making her the other half of this operation. As for Faezahr… I don’t think we’re ever told why Brithael and him get along so poorly.
He’s the rosy-cheeked Roe just outside, next to this poor bastard who isn’t getting a new ship any time soon.
Here on Brithael's behalf, you say? I might've guessed… <spit> That whoreson doesn't realize the trouble he's in. ...Well, it's his neck. I'll work with you, smith, and I'll even keep my diction simple. Taking instruction from that drunkard will have dulled your wits. Now listen.
Dealing with Gridanians is no different from dealing with anyone else. Everyone has needs─it's just a matter of identifying and fulfilling them. Anyone with half a brain─which discounts your mentor─knows that the forestborn do not want for wood or leather goods. You'd have more luck selling brine to a fishback. What they do lack is steel.
Theirs is an insular, isolated nation that has long sought to survive without relying overmuch on foreign trade. But the Calamity changed all that. Half a decade on, and with no end to the rebuilding in sight, they have been forced to open their gates to adventurers. And where there are adventurers, there's demand for weapons and armor. Quality weapons and armor, mind you. My Gridanian contacts would accept nothing less.
I will need some samples to show them. Bring me a bronze spatha and a spiked bronze labrys for this purpose.
The very interdependent nature of the three major city-states is all the more stark when you look at how dependent the crafting classes are on one another.
Unrelatedly, it’s very foggy in Limsa. I’m not sure how much the local lighthouses would help when it’s this bad.
Soon enough…
Bring me a bronze spatha and a spiked bronze labrys. Until I have them in my hands, we've nothing more to discuss.
Hmmm. These will require closer inspection. Inside, smith.
You made these weapons? I must confess, the quality is quite good… I thought you no more than Brithael's errand girl, but it seems I was wrong. Only a true smith could have made these pieces. As I rather suspect you are aware, a poorly wrought weapon can cost a man his life. Be it brittle, prone to blunting, or unevenly weighted, every flaw will serve to hinder its owner on the battlefield. Not so this spatha. Well-tempered and perfectly balanced, it is a weapon fit for a warrior. Hells, with a blade like this, even I could probably best a beast or two.
And this labrys is a work of art as well. Simple, solid, and more than capable of cleaving a fishback in two. If even a relative newcomer to the guild can produce work of this quality, then my contacts will have naught to worry about. These samples should convince them of that. ...It seems you've saved your mentor's job. You just leave the rest to me, smith. There's nothing easier than selling an excellent product.
Faezahr is a bit of an ass, but he does his job as a merchant just fine. Back to Brithael for materia mansplaining.
Jus' the lass I was hopin' to see. Yer a bleedin' godssend, ye know that? Ye'll be happy to hear that the treefolk were mightily impressed with them samples ye made fer that son of a whore. Heh! Even the shrew had to admit I'd done a good job! But who gives a damn about business, eh? Yer here to smith, am I right!? So be a good lass an' whip us up an iron cross-pein hammer, will ye?
Oh, before ye run off, I should prob'ly mention that Smydhaemr ain't sellin' iron at present. Grand Company contracts take priority, see, an' the shipwrights need all the stock we can lay our hands on. So ye'll have to get the iron on yer own, be it by minin' or buyin'. I'd sooner go to Hawkers' Alley, meself, but then it ain't my coin.
An' one more thing─I don't want jus' any iron cross-pein hammer, lass. I want one melded with materia. Ye know what materia is, don't ye? It's like, er...say I'd got an apron I'd been usin' fer years an' years, an' it'd got all soaked through with sweat, but instead o' just sweat, it'd taken up a bit o' me, er...spiritual essence, or somethin'... Well, that essence can be pulled out an' turned into stuff called “materia,” which is like a sort o' crystal that ye can attach to gear to make it stronger an' so on.
Needless to say, I don't know how materia works, but there's s'posed to be a gobbie who does. Name's Mutamix if memory serves, an' he's got a camp out in Thanalan. Track him down if ye need some proper guidance.
For a man who doesn’t quite get it, Brithael explains the process well enough. And indeed, while you’ll be changing gear too often in low levels to get much, in later parts you’re likely to spiritbond plenty of your gear.
Anyway, Orokin can get the missing materials from the housing vendors again, and slap in another of the stack of CP+1 materia left over from previous overmelding efforts.
Got that hammer fer me yet? Don't forget that she needs a piece o' materia stuck to her as well. Any kind'll do, by the way─don't have to be from an apron.
Damn fine work as always, lass! She's got good heft, this one─the kind ye jus' don't get with bronze. Ye'd tire quicker, o' course, but that's a failin' o' the arm, not the tool. An' even after ye'd worked up a sweat, I reckon her cotton-wrapped grip would keep her firmly in yer hand, where she belongs. Ahhh…
It's common fer smitties to make their own tools, ye know. There's no better way o' gettin' jus' what ye want, see─assumin' yer half decent. I fer one have always made me own... Bugger me, though...I'm startin' to wish I'd asked ye fer two o' these so I could keep one fer meself! Heh...ye really should let me buy you a drink sometime, lass. Ye've done a lot fer me, an' I don't want ye to think me ungrateful.
(Hmm, not sure that’d end so well...)
In fact, I'm wonderin' if we oughtn't to put yer skills on display more prominently─really show our potential customers what the guild has to offer. No need to fret about that fer the time bein', though. You jus' keep hammerin' away, all right? Take it from me, lass: ye'll do yer best work when yer only concerns are the hammer in yer hand an' the vision in yer head. Byregot's blessin's be upon ye.
Properly focusing on a task certainly helps out a lot. With that in mind, it’s time we move up into high-quality goods again.
Ye've come a long way since ye first joined up, lass. Some smitties might be content to eke out a livin' sellin' cheap tools an' weapons, but not you. You won't be satisfied till yer the best, am I right?
You know it.
Aye, that's the stuff. Always seekin' to better yerself, ain't ye? I respect that. If ye've no motivation, it's only a matter o' time before yer work starts to suffer. Yer customers start lookin' elsewhere, folks start whisperin' yer best days're behind ye, yer wife runs off with a godsdamned merchant… An' next thing ye know, yer jus' another poor sod drownin' his sorrows at the Wench. But that won't happen to you, will it?
(...That isn’t why he dislikes Faezahr, is it?)
Ye produced quality work back when we had to deal with them treefolk, an' now I need ye to do the same again. We're after another big contract, see. There's a bloke in town who's lookin' to buy a boatload o' steel, but he won't place an order till he's sure we can deliver first-rate stuff. So we need to send him a sample of our finest work. Now, it takes a lot o' skill to forge a bar o' high-quality steel, but if ye start with a chunk o' premium ore, yer halfway there. ...Sayin' that, it can still be a right pain in the arse. But I know yer up to the task, lass. When ye've made the thing, give it to that whoreson merchant from before─Faezahr, aye─so as he can deliver it to the client.
Brithael’s quite right; having quality ingredients to work with can start the Quality meter at 50 or even 75% full, depending on the craft. It can work wonders if your gear’s a little out of date.
Steel Ingots are just iron ore (easily bought) and bomb ash, which drops from Bombs… or is mined from Southern Thanalan, just east of Forgotten Springs.
We meet again. Assuming you're here to deliver the steel, know this: if it's not first-rate, I won't present it to the client.
Hmmm. Very well. Inside, smith.
Quite how you learned to smelt such excellent steel I don't know. But I do know that it had naught to do with your wretched mentor's teaching… Hmmm... Harder than mere iron, yet not so rigid as to be unworkable… It cannot have been easy determining the exact quantity of bomb ash required to achieve such a balance.
Speaking of which, just how did you acquire the ash? Don't tell me you went and slew the voidsent fiends yourself! The markets are hardly a reliable source, I know, but risking death in a fiery explosion is beyond reckless! Still, if that's what it took...I admire your dedication.
I suspect your forgemaster will soon be receiving some good news. I only hope he remembers to toast your name when he adjourns to the Wench to celebrate.
Here’s hoping… That concludes the 1-25 tutorial nonsense, which means this is usually where the main thrust of the arc comes in. We'll see how that pans out next time!