Book of Bone and Ebony

EXALTED • BOOK OF BONE AND EBONY
56
SMITHS AND CRAFTSMEN
Some artifacts the dead bring with them into the
Underworld: ever-flowing pitchers, golem servants and
weapons that they held in life and that were buried in their
graves. Others, however, they make for themselves — or
for their masters. There are great Shogunate-era forges in
the Underworld, where ghostly smiths slave for the
Deathlords, and there are small workshops where those
dead who loved crafting practice their art with a passion
that is all they keep of their living days. In between the two
extremes fall the experts who have given their loyalty to
great kings and queens. They may lack the talent and
passion of the true geniuses, but they cooperate to produce
weapons and tools at their rulers’ requests.
In the Underworld, ghosts are defined by their passions.
Among the dead, no smiths or craftsmen are casual practitioners
or see their art as a mere pastime. Those who take up
hammer and chisel or knife and flame do so because it is one
of the imperatives of their nature. Even those who are
forcibly enslaved to serve the Deathlords find some satisfaction
in being able to fulfil this heartfelt desire of their nature.
Of course, those poor souls who are sacrificed to feed the
soulsteel forges might have objections — but when did the
material ever have a choice in its forging?
The solo workers, alone in their forges save for admiring
disciples and servants or yearning lovers, may produce
the strangest items. They are free of the constraints of
serving others and are therefore free to work on whatever
catches their fancy. One might spend years smoothing the
curve of a shield or perfecting the edge of a blade. However,
these artisans’ relative solitude can mean that they lack
vital ingredients, secret tomes, necessary incantations or
other items vital to their current projects. This leaves them
open to coercion, which can range from promised favors to
outright threats. These lone craftsmen may produce literally
anything, from the cruelest or kindest of items to the
most exotic objets d’art to the simplest, plainest tools. A
smith might forge the most bloodthirsty of daiklaves or
might carve a necklace that will allow a ghostly mother to
sacrifice her existence in order to save her living child. Or
he might simply content himself with spending years on
casting a simple, practical tool, comforted in his passion
that his work should be a perfect example of what it is.
Those smiths who serve the Deathlords must produce
what their masters demand, often working together by the
dozen in order to create artifacts of shuddering immensity.
They are given no choice in their servitude — though most
Deathlords will sweeten their service with luxuries and
respect, ultimately such smiths are not going to be allowed
to leave the forges, unless it is as hammered soulsteel.
Many such craftsmen take what pleasure they can in
working with the best materials, on the most exacting
projects, using the skills that they spent their lifetimes
accumulating and find that sufficient to content them.