Sivima took the sanding block from him and went to work, sanding down the rough wooden handle on the dagger.

“How can I help?” Kaldalis asked with a moment of hesitation.

The blacksmith looked up at him for a moment, appraising him while her hands went through the practiced mechanical work of reducing the blocky wood handle to something usable.

“Not a lot of ways,” she said. “You’re no crafter.”

“Sorry,” Kaldalis said sheepishly.

“It’s fine. There are things you can do,” Sivima said, returning her attention to the task at hand. “You would be more useful if you’d invested the time.” She gestured by jabbing her chin back towards the far end of the tent. “I’ve got some materials in the crates over there. Bring me what I ask for when I ask for it, and you might actually save me a few seconds here and there.”

Kaldalis rushed to obey. The two crates were clearly organized by stage of production. One was full of metal bars, obviously for making blades, while the other held a bunch of wooden blocks, leather straps, and metal pins for handles. To the side of the second crate, a handful of wooden staves stood out of a barrel, obviously for spears.

“I’m going to need to put a handle on this after the quench,” Sivima said as she set the finished knife aside and went back to the forge. Using a pair of long tongs, she pulled out the blade she’d placed there and started hammering at it again. “I need two blocks and three pins by the vice there.”

Kaldalis grabbed two blocks of wood out of the crate of handle materials, and then hesitated and checked them against each other. They were the same size, but one of them was out of a different wood than the other. It was lighter. He imagined that was probably bad for the balance of the weapon or something, and so he checked again to make sure he had a matched set. The pins were all identical, making that task much easier.

He ran them across the tent to the workbench as Sivima plunged the blade into a nearby basin with one smooth, even motion. There was a flash of flame from the liquid within, and while it startled Kaldalis, Sivima didn’t even flinch, so he suspected that it was normal. After a moment she pulled the blade out and took it off of the tongs with her gloved hand, examining it closely. After a moment, she took a metal file and rubbed it over the blade once before examining it again. When the blade satisfied whatever criteria she was looking for, she moved to the workbench.

“I need another iron in the fire while setting this,” she said. “Just grab a bar and toss it in the forge. Doesn’t matter which one.”

“Do I need to use tongs or something?” Kaldalis asked as he scuttled back over to the crates of materials.

“You’re just tossing it in. You don’t need to handle it hot.”

Kaldalis supposed that was accurate. He grabbed a random bar and took it to the forge. As a big stone box full of fire, it wasn’t hard to figure out the mechanics of the task. Kaldalis tossed the metal bar into the flames, where Sivima had just taken the near-finished blade from. It hit the red coals and sent up a shower of sparks.

“Now hit the bellows for me,” Sivima said. She was using a hand drill to run holes into the handles for the pins. “I need that bar hot enough to work with when I’m done with this.”

The bellows were behind the forge, where they would be out of the way of Sivima’s working. The disadvantage meant that they were hard to work, as they were set at a slightly awkward angle relative to the forge and the back side of the tent. Kaldalis imagined that this was probably a contributing factor to why her work was slower than she’d anticipated.

He started to pump the bellows. It was intensive work, but not quite as hard as he expected. The bellows were designed to work with him rather than against him. It required a full-body motion to engage it, but it didn’t tax his unpracticed muscles to operate. He could clearly feel the air around him heating up as the flames in the forge were stoked.

“Alright, good,” Sivima said after a few minutes. She returned to the forge with tongs and reached in, grabbing the metal bar. It was now red hot, and she set it against the anvil before taking her hammer to it.

It was interesting to watch the hammer deform and reshape the metal. The bar was starting to look like a flattened triangle already, but the red had faded to a duller shade, and Sivima put it back into the forge.

“Do you mind getting the bellows again?” Sivima asked. “This is the closest I get to a break.”

“No problem,” Kaldalis said, getting back to it. “So, you have a moment to talk?”

“Alright,” Sivima laughed. “You probably didn’t come out here to be my gofer. What do you need?”

“A part of me wants to say a new spear,” Kaldalis said, “but I feel like you’re going to kick my ass if I try and make more work for you.”

“You’re not wrong,” she said with a smirk.

Kaldalis worked the bellows as he gathered his courage. “I wanted to talk about the upcoming vote to replace the expedition leader.”

“Nasty business, that,” Sivima said. “I can’t say I’m surprised it came to this, but I’m surprised at the rumors flying around for what got Onirioago ousted.” She shuddered. “I can’t even say it out loud.”

“Probably a good idea not to give voice to it,” Kaldalis said. “But I’ll be blunt with you. I want to put my hat in the ring.”

“Bold,” Sivima said. “You think you have a chance?”

“Maybe,” Kaldalis said. “Why? Who are you voting for?”

Sivima nodded. “I don’t exactly feel strong enough to nominate him, but if Garyung is on the list, he’s my first choice, easy.”

“Oh.” Kaldalis tried to ignore the feeling of being punched in the gut. “Any particular reason?”

“Don’t get me wrong,” Sivima said, “you’ve done some good around here. Nobody doubts that.” She gestured towards the space above her workbench, where the painter’s palette he’d recovered hung decoratively. “You’ve even done me a very kind personal favor. But you’re all big gestures and daring heroics. You do the impossible. It’s a good quality in a hero, but not the hallmark of a good leader.”

“And Garyung strikes you as a leader?”

“He does,” Sivima said. She looked over the crates of materials. “Garyung’s actions are smaller, but just as necessary. More intimate. No task is too small for him. No person is too unimportant for him to help. Nothing is too boring or mundane for him to step in and assist.”

“Well…” Kaldalis nodded down to the bellows he was still pumping.

“Yes, but this is the first time,” she said with a thin smile. “Not a day goes by that Garyung isn’t here, helping me or any of the other crafters with their work, or over by the other workbenches making gear himself to hand to other players in need of it. All the while, providing materials to anyone who comes up short. And any time someone comes by to pick up a hammer for the first time, he’s right there to assist them, so that none of the rest of us fall even farther behind.” She shrugged. “He’s putting everyone’s needs ahead of his own, and not just in one grand self-sacrificing act. You risk your life for others, sacrificing your hit points for those around you. Garyung sacrifices his time, day after day. To me, that’s the more valuable quality for a leader.”

She reached into the forge with the tongs, retrieving the half-finished blade. Kaldalis stopped pumping the bellows as she hammered away at it.

“Considering the rumors I’ve heard, that’s what the camp needs more than anything,” she grunted as she hammered the lump of metal into a vaguely blade-like shape. Despite the small size of the bar, it was getting longer and longer with every strike, moving slowly towards a sword rather than a dagger as he’d expected.

“What’s that?” Kaldalis asked.

“Selflessness,” Sivima said. “Someone who will use the job as an opportunity to help others, not to help themselves.”

“And you think that’s not me?”

“No offense intended,” Sivima said. “You’re plenty selfless, and I don’t doubt that you’d be a fine leader. But to my eyes - and the eyes of most of the crafters here, likely - Garyung is the more fitting candidate.”

“But if nobody nominates him,” Kaldalis said, “or if he turns it down?”

Sivima sighed as she tossed the half-finished blade back into the forge. Kaldalis stepped back to the bellows, but she waved him off, stepping into the space and working it herself.

“If Garyung is off the table,” she said, “then I will admit there’s not many I’d vote for above you. As I said, you are a hero. You are selfless. You’d make a fine leader. Just not the best.”

“I guess that’s the best I can ask for, since you’ve made up your mind already.”

“There’s your answer then,” she said. She paused in pumping the bellows and waved him away. “Now get out of here. I feel safer when I know you’re out looking for those big heroics you’re so good at, rather than when you’re right here doing nothing.”