//------------------------------//
// Playing rust in a nutshell 
// Story: The Iron Chancellor 
// by Radical Centrist 
//------------------------------//

POV: Hett Mirov

Hett was unsurprised of the lightgrey griffons' straightforwardness and pondered if he should escort them to their village. Well, we don't stop anygriffs trying to enter our village anyways.... and I can't stop these griffs from following us either... Alright then, I'll bring you to our village, but first, what are your names? The two griffons in front of him looked at each other, and the darkgrey one nodded slightly at the lightgrey one and spoke,

"My name is Otto Von Bismarck, and my friend beside me here is Paul Mauser." The darkgrey griffon answered.

"Alright then, follow us to the village," Hett replied as he began to unfurl his wings to take off,

"Hang on, you aren't gonna ask where we're from?" Paul asked confusingly.

Hett simply raised an eyebrow at this and said, "Why does it matter where you came from? Most of the griffs in our village are refugees who flee from wars or battles. We stopped asking them out of conserving time nowadays." 

"Perfect," Bismarck replied quickly, he followed up with another question in an attempt to change the conversation "Quick question, how does one fly?" 

Hett raised another eyebrow from this, and tried to speak, but clamped down on his beak once realising that their parents might have died prematurely to teach them how to fly properly. In an order to not offend, Hett dodged the question and began lecturing Bismarck and Paul on the procedures of flight, whilst using the three other party members as examples and models for annotations. Bismarck grasped the art of flight quite easily, as he was no stranger to having to adapt to strange scenarios on short notice, also it was less physical and more mental, as Hett blabbered on about griffon and pegasi 'magic' which made Bismarck cringe slightly. Paul had a more difficult time, as Paul realised that his wings were a lot less rigid and strong as those of Bismarcks' or Hetts', however it won against them in flexibility, as Paul was able to quickly use them to emulate fingers. Flight achieved, the 6 griffons took flight towards the village.

Setting: Griffon Village
POV: Universal (from now on)

The progress in reconstruction was slow. Painfully slow. Several hours had passed, yet only  7 houses were rebuilt despite more than 2000 souls working on the construction. Franz had already given up his home for several families to reside in his home, and this was followed by all intact homes in the village, comfort was secondary when trying to stay warm at the night. Franz cursed the moon for bringing such a curse to his fellow griffs, and began to look at the ground, defeated but also hopeful that the scavenging party would yield some food. His hopes however would be dafted, as the scavengers all resulted with gloomed expressions and empty claws, and one had grown in numbers, which meant there were two more souls to feed.

Franz cursed his horrible luck.

Bismarck and Paul glanced around their new surroundings, the poor condition of the village, charred remains, depressed griffons and a general feeling of uneasiness that seemed to radiate in the area. Their observation was cut short, however, as the elder of the villager simply dismissed them, and informed them that they would need to ask to dwell in the homes for the night. Bismarck and Paul were shocked that the elder simply ignored them and passed them off as 'any other refugee' and mumbled 'another griff to feed'. The scavengers disbanded, all going to their separate destinations, Hett left to leave with the elder to shelter in his home and waved the two confused griffons goodbye. 

Bismarck and Paul looked at Hetts' gestures and looked back at each other, whilst Bismarck was relieved that no suspicions were raised during their entrance, but also worried about the implications of this behaviour. Paul meanwhile stared dumbly at the piles of rock and roots that the villagers had amassed during their reconstruction. He then madly dashed towards the rock piles, which made Bismarck follow suit. Paul stopped in front of the pile, and grabbed a rock from it, and observed it. 

"What is it?" Bismarck leaned in to observe the rock himself, and it had a light brown texture with light spots of white on its exterior. 

"...It's fire clay, able to withstand extreme temperatures, and are considered the most suitable natural material to build furnaces with!" Paul yelled hysterically. "Bismarck! Will you help me build a furnace?" Paul pleaded.

Bismarck simply gave him a shrug and nodded. He had nothing else better to do anyway. Strangely, even as the sun fell and the darkness loomed over, Bismarck and Paul were able to perfectly see in the dark, which made them wonder if they were part owls or not, however, they quickly resumed their works, as Bismarck delivered the materials which Paul asked for, as they began working in a nearly intact shack, which unfortunately had too many openings to properly trap the heat and protect against the cold, however, it would work great for Paul as a makeshift forge. Bismarck had found a wagon which the villagers have been using, and assuming they were communal, he commandeered it and began delivering materials, sand, fire clay, roots and water from the well to Paul's little forge.

(Don't cry for it being unrealistic, instead be happy for Mr Mauser)
Paul began crushing the fire clay into a fine dust-like substance and mixed it with the sand. He had filtered out all the rocks from both the dusty substance by filtering them with a piece of cloth he found. After mixing them briefly, he poured the water in and began swirling it, making sure that no lumps or groups formed in the thick liquid mixture. He had dug a hole beforehand as a template and lined the soil with roots and fire clay to ensure that the structure wouldn't be contaminated with soil. He quickly called Bismarck in to help make the shape of the furnace after pouring the mixture into the hole, and after 10 minutes, the mixture solidified enough to stay in place, and after ensuring its integrity, Paul and Bismarck lifted the furnace and flipped it over upright to observe their work. Bismarck found the furnace lacking elegance, unlike the factories he had seen in the Rhine, however, Paul marvelled his work, remarking how he had overdone his expectations. 

Paul immediately started to work, he and Bismarck began by collecting all the ores they deemed valuable, Bismarck had collected all the benign ores and rocks, being iron ores and pieces of coal lodged in rocks whilst Paul had bigger plans, as he collected iron sulphides and magnetites. He fired up the furnace using flint and exposed iron ore, using roots as the kindlings, as they were dried in the piles and burnt well enough for Paul to use. Bismarck began to fetch more iron ores, coal and charcoal from the charred silhouettes of the villages' houses, as Paul was able to quickly refine many iron ores into impure iron, and finally into steel using extreme temperatures to burn away any impurities in the metal. The sweltering heat from the furnace, despite it being sealed made Paul sweat profusely, as he continued to make more steel from the piles of iron ore that were piling up thanks to Bismarck. Once Paul had enough, he began moulding the steel into a rectangular shape to form a hammer, by using cooled pieces of steel to manipulate the shape of the moulding steel. Once cooled enough, and its shape rigid, Paul drove another chunk of steel directly in the middle of the hammers' head, creating a makeshift hammer for his forging needs. 

The night had surprisingly passed fast, as the village griffs began waking up to hear the sound of metal being hit against another piece of metal, causing a metallic ringing sound to echo throughout the village. When the less drowsy griffons began wandering over to the source of the sounds, they were shocked to see what it was. Paul had been amassing a pile of steel beside him, as even Bismarck was helping him forge after making his observation of the processes which Paul took. Paul expected to be showered with attention, however, the best he got was a disgruntled griffon telling him to quiet down. His disappointment was immeasurable, and his day was ruined. But he did not let up, as he had big plans for what to do with their monstrous amount of steel and the seemingly infinite amount of coal which would make New Castle blush in shame. Bismarck also seemed to have an idea of what his plans were and began delivering materials accordingly. But he also seemed shocked to see such... restrained reactions from the villagers.

While working, Paul began to imagine a scenario which he had so far not thought about, as they would need some form of currency to pay the workers for operating his machinery, and he had not seen any form of currency yet. So he thought of the next best thing; food and they seemed to lack a reliable source of it, basing off the ruined fields, constant failures from their scavengers and starving griffons leaning tiredly against trees and walls, not able to move a single inch due to their lack of energy. Paul then looked towards Bismarck. "Weren't you a farmer in your younger years?" Paul asked, despite knowing the answer.

"Yes, and I know what you are thinking. You want me to divert a river using these steel tools by cutting up trees and using them as foundations to cover with concrete to make a sturdy dam to permanently change the directions of a river to irrigate fields in this village, and use the foods from the farms to feed the peasantry, gain their support, gain workers, build factories and consolidate our power among these griffons?" Bismarck rambled, yet spoke completely coherently.

"....Right on," Paul muttered.