[Henry watches, raising his eyebrows a fraction. It's certainly a convenient tool. The mention of burns earns a faint grimace.]

Indeed.

[He goes and collects his backplate, then turns it thoughtfully in his grasp. There is a single line cutting partially through it, narrow, neat, and fortuitously not along a curve or an edge. He should be able to beat it closed without warping the fitted shape.]

Let us see to my backplate first. If you handle the flame then I shall do the rest.

[For the time being, he rests his backplate on the flat, hard surface standing in for an anvil, then fetches the hammer, testing its weight. Setting that down nearby, he spares a moment to warm up his right wrist, arm and shoulder.]

Have you a bucket of water?