Cooling the Forge

Log Info

• Title: Cooling the Forge
• Emitter: Nemori
• Characters: Nemori, Jay, Robert, Zofija, Toha
• Place: A02: Lower Trades District
• Time: Sunday, May 01, 2022, 10:22 PM
• Summary: In the aftermath of her adventure at sea, Nemori is pounding a piece of metal flat, over and over. Integrity, the bluejay Egalrin, is watching. Robert and then Zofija arrive, and detail their unfortunate escapades. They were nearly done in by jelly-fish, or something jelly-fish like. As concern and comfort is expressed, a rare sight in Alexandria approaches. Toha, the war golem, is looking for some upgrades and active forges have been hard to find.

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The Lower Trades District is the home of the working man of Alexandria. The Lower Trades is divided, unofficially, into two parts: that controlled by the gobbers, and that controlled by the khazad. The two areas stand in contrast, one with a strong, almost formal architecture and a predilection for blacksmiths, the other a mixture of propped-up rubble and gunpowder. The latter's started to grow however, and take form with the aid of the more structured Arvek Nar. Still, the two stand as uneasy neighbors, though the oruch more easily work both sides, often in the spirit of a friendly, if competitive, warriors' competition that's unique to Alexandria, itself.

Here, the "khazad section" boasts a number of blacksmiths, glass smiths, artifice shops, and basic taverns, as well as any number of trades shops and eateries. The sweet tinge of oil, iron, and spiced BBQ is everywhere. Shrines to Reos, or marks of the same, are found over most doorways, in homage to the khazad Mountain Father and World Smith.

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The Ilife Smithy is a simple and open structure delineated by low stone walls, framing posts, and a slanted roof. The space is roughly 10'x15' with an ancient forge hearth as its centerpiece. A table and a high counter mounted to the framing poses form an interrupted L on the north and west sides of the building. A steel anvil is anchored to a dead tree trunk.

A path leading from the main thoroughfare comes to a low gate but the hinged entrance is a formality; only the laziest and shortest of the short races would struggle climbing over the low walls. Sightlines through the building are only interrupted by the framing posts and large hearth.

---

Nemori is working at the forge again. It has been too little time for skills to have made any solid progress, and having to spend time resting after the near disastrous trip out into the ocean has eaten into her time.. but tonight doesn't seem to be about honing her skills. Tonight seems to be about hammering an ingot flat, then heating it and rehammering it. Over and over. Attacking the metal like it's the head of some creature she is determined to see dead.

Integrity C Truefeather, esquire, the 'C' is for company, is keeping Nemori company and watching her work. He's observed her hammer the same ingot, over and over. "Is that a strength building exercise? Like pounding sand?"

The Cerenzan is feeling his age; on the mend and tuckered out from a long day, he arrives with his peacoat hanging open and the loose tunic beneath still damp with sweat. A simple skullcap is darkened by moisture, too, and helps to keep him from scratching his burned scalp and the balm applied there; the same balm that's flakey and caked to his cheek and blistered lip.

His progress down the lane is slow and plodding. He stops occasionally to prop himself against a wall or lamp post to catch his breath. When he finally arrives at the forge he settles to sit on the wall with his back against one of the support beams.

His relieved smile is as genuine as it is tired and the flush in his cheeks is due to more than the healing wounds. "H'lo, you two," he slurs mildly.

"Bob! Bob! You look terrible! I'm so glad to see you!" Jay is off his perch and advancing to embrace Robert in a warm, winged hug. He also gets his arms in there, so it's extra snug. "I heard things went bad."

Nemori hasn't been all that talkative. Offering answers only when she had to pause to reheat the metal, she offered just enough, perhaps, for the egalrin to decide to say. She is sweating hard and her muscles are aching, noticeable in the way the tongs holding the flattening ingot tremor just so, and the horrible aim by the striking hammer. And then the inevitable happens. Too long, too hard, the smithing hammer hits the metal and then slips from her grasp. It bounces, the head hitting the top of the low wall in the back, then bounces again and into the shadow.

An offended alley cat yowls back at the smithy's occupants.

Nemori stares at her now empty hand, the fingers locked in a clawlike form, as if still trying to hold on to the hammer.. then with a frustrated yell she drops the tongs. She turns to look for the bucket of water, and only then sees Robert arriving.

"Hey, kid," Bob greets, sitting up enough to return the embrace with one heavy arm. "It was looking rough for awhile but we all came through fine." He smells of sweat, strong perfumes, and spiced spirits. He has his dancing shoes on and the soft soles sound sibilant on the loose dirt of the floor.

There's a deep breath and another heavy sigh before he leans back out of the hug and into the post once more. "Take a break, lady, and rest your arms. The day's long and limbs are weary..." he shifts, pulling his leg up and propping his foot atop the wall on which he sits.

"You could've come dancing," he reminds her.

"Oh, that's where you were. What sort of dancing?" Jay asks eagerly, hopping in place, "I could have come, I'm light on my feet. As a feather!"

His head bobs as he examines Nemori's hands, "Yours are looking more clawed than mine, you should relax a little. It wasn't your fault what happened."

"Dancing?" The question is... quiet, at first, as Nemori stares at Robert. She looks at Jay, seeking something, then back to Robert again. "Dancing?" comes the question again, this tie a bit louder, higher pitched. She advances a step, about to say more judging by her mouth starting to open again.. then she just lets out another sound of frustration as she puts her her shaking palms to her eyes. She rubs them for a few seconds, then slides them around her head, wiping the sweat free. An motion which abruptly stops when her right hand reaches the scarred tissue. She flinches, then turns away enough to present only her left side to the pair. "I do not know this city's dances, and I do not believe I would are for them," she says instead, her tone somewhat biting.

Then she looks down at her hands as Jay brings attention to them. Indeed, they seem almost cramped, stuck like claws. She mutters an elvish word, then starts physically trying to unbend them, grimacing as she does so.

"Dancing," Bob agrees with a sigh, his eyes sliding shut for a moment. He grins and forces them open, looking over at Jay without moving his head. "One of the theatres opens on the new month and the performers surrender the stage to folk off the street, musicians play from the stands, and we start Hattanani with revels."

He pauses and lips his lips before adding, "Kezia invited us" with a look to Nemori. He grunts, forcing himself to sit forward and pushes the small of his back against the post, dropping his propped leg to the opposite side of the wall. "... come here, lady, please," he requests with a pat on the low wall and a wave.

"Here, let me." Jay steps up to Nemori and massages one of her hands. It's an unusual feeling, the avian scales on his fingers slide oddly against skin, and the way his fingers bend and muscles work is odd compared to most humanoids.

"Oh! Kezia!" His crest flips right up, "How is she doing? You should have invited me to come dancing."

He attempts to move her towards Robert, "he's much better at this, you should let him. Get a proper blacksmith grip."

Perhaps it's the unusual feeling of the different textures, perhaps it's her agitation. Perhaps it's those factors and more. Nemori pushes Jay away, retreating a step towards the corner further away from him and Robert, hissing. "Do not touch me!" Her glare is ugly, for a second, before she catches herself. A fraction of a heartbeat, perhaps less, there is.. something else in her eyes. Something more honest, maybe. Worry, regret? Or perhaps it wasn't there at all. All too quickly her usual mask is back in place, a smile settling in that doesn't touch her eyes. "I am alright, Integrity. Now. Did he," she gestures at Robert with her chin, still taking care to keep her right side away from the pair, "Tell you about the boat trip? About how he almost died? About what I had to do to make sure he did not?" Needless to say, she's not about to take Robert up on his offer.

The burns on Bob's normally-red face are dark where they peek out from behind half-dried ointment but he looks less injured and more in need of rest. He flinches when Nemori exclaims and withdraws, closing one hand into a loose fist and frowning. His shoulders slump as the day's trials compound.

"I'm fine," the Cerenzan insists mildly, looking from Nemori to Jay. "I didn't 'almost die;' I've held my breath longer passing through a room of flatulent Lucht..." he grins tiredly, trying to difuse the situation with some humor.

"No, he didn't. I heard it was bad, allegedly." The bluejay says, holding his hands up in surrender and backing away from what he saw in Nemori's eyes, "I had to file some papers, or I would have come along."

He clacks his beak, "That's a problem with Luchts?"

Zofija got off the best out of everyone there! On account of being one of two who didn't get their head melted by acid, and seemingly having handled everything okay, she was the best in shape to actually go and turn in their assignment.

And she had even been paid, but it was a double edged sword, as the arvek-nar got the job of bringing out the gold to everyone else.

The blacksmith shop was a good place to start, she was likely to find either Nemori or Robert there, maybe even both. So the cavalier wandered down there, looking perfectly fine, with even her arms healed already, other than a slight paleness to the normally bright skin.

"Hey, guess who those people at the guild think is trustworthy enough to not run off with all your gold~?" The arvek-nar chuckles as she steps into the area. "This arvek-nar here, apparently, and I really don't feel like betraying that trust just this moment. So, no worries, I got your shares in my bag here. And uh, you all doing alright? Feels like I walked in on something uncomfortable. You folks doing okay? That was some nasty acid."

It's a lovely night for a walk.

Apparently, it's also a good night for socializing.

Venturing into the market district for... reasons, obviously, a feminine figure clad in leather and steel walks through with little in the way of overt looking around.

Nemori begins trying to work the stiffness out of her fingers on her own; a task made more difficult by the fact that her hands don't want to cooperate. "Finding new accommodations would be inconvenient," she says, turning her gaze away from both Jay and Robert. "Had I still the Dark Lady's favour, that soujourn into the waters would have gone much differently," she says, almost reluctantly. "If.." And then Zofija is there. Nemori turns just enough to see the Arvek-Nar, recognizing her. "Hello, Zofija. Did you count it?"

"Hi muscles," Integrity says, finding a spot in the smithy that isn't too close to Nemori. "Hobgoblins usually are trustworthy, with their friends or their squad. It's the ones that don't have a group that can be a little random, allegedly."

He glances out at the street, back to the small group, mostly at the mul'niessian priest, "I'm not sure how to respond to that. I'm not sure I want to know more about the Dark Lady's favour. OH!"

"There is a High Priestess of hers in Alexandria, an Akoniril Belvedae. She'd be a good person to avoid; it's not too hard, she's usually surrounded by a group of guards, Alexandrian and her own. The procession can be seen half a mile away."

"Alledgedly."

"We're fine, miss Zofija," Bob answers the knight with another soft smile-- one the perks subtly when he realizes just how often he's offered that phrase in a short amount of time. "Thank you for bringing the payment." He groans at length as he stands, pushing off the beam and shuffling across the smithy. He gives Nemori a wide berth lest she retreat further, then stoops to collect a bucket and the rag from inside the bucket.

The rag he takes, turning to find the quenching bucket and dropping the cloth to soak it. He pushes it down, squeezes it, pulls it back out, and lets it drip. "I touched the unidentifiable ooze from the depths of the ocean," he grunts with a self-deprecating smirk as he lets the rag dangle. He takes the corners and folds it, moving to the forge. "... and nearly tripped over myself instead of batting it away; the errors were mine to make."

He stands there for a moment just looking into the coals as he holds the rag close. "After their feasts they sometimes do, IC," he answers on the subject of Lucht, grinning again.

It's not long before he's turning away from the forge and holding out the warm, wet cloth to Nemori. "... the heat helps," he suggests.

"You do realize I'm one of those untrustworthy random solo hobgoblins, right?" Zofija snorts, reaching into her bag to pull out a pair of pouches that she tosses to the others. "Don't worry, of course I counted everything there, it's all accounted for, minus the cost for the delivery fee."

The arvek-nar stretches, and looks around. "If you had the dark ladies blessing, or used it there, might have gotten yourself tossed overboard, so maybe best you aren't going with that, you know. It was a bit of a mess, but we managed in the end. Thankfully some mourner lady came and fixed me and Slix up real fine, maybe even better than before the trip. Kind of a surprise really." She chuckles.

Curious conversational snippets sound from the direction of what seems to be an active forge.

Convienient.

Altering heading, the figure's pae does abate to some small measure, if only to get a more proper fix on whether the chatter is friendly catching up, or some form of weightier business at play.

"Mourners are great fer that." Toha replies near the boundary described by the stall's roof, her tone casual, though it chippers up as her hand lifts for her followup of, "Hi!" that doesn't match her expression.

She cants her head a subtle touch as she gives the moment time to conceive, then, "Bad time?"

Nemori's eyes flash like she wants to glare again, but she glances back at Jay. Her hands. The cloth. Then she reaches for the offering. She doesn't exactly snatch it, and when she does back off this time, it's not exactly a retreat.. but she ends up at her stool in the corner, folding the cloth around on of her hands. "Thank you, Integrity," she goes on to say, raising her chin to look at the Egalrin. "It would be best if I avoid her. She and her Children do not forgive those who leave the flock."

Nemori can only nod to Zofija. "It had been idle musings, nothing more." Yeah, Idle. "It is perhaps best I remain in the city for the time being. My share of that debacle will last for some time." Her gaze shifts to Toha as the War Golem arrives, her eyes narrowing just a little bit. Suspiciously perhaps. "You have a visitor, Robert. Perhaps a customer."

"No." Integrity shakes his head, "you have friends. Slix, and that strange dwarf from Blar, and us, and you were part of a military unit. It's those quiet, loner hobgoblins that are all dressed in black who are most likely to be evil. The ones sitting in a tavern with their back to the wall and the one drink they nurse all night, so their reflexes aren't dulled."

"And you're really talkative! Like, a lot!" The bluejay spreads his wings wide for emphasis, "It was like pulling teeth to get more than five words from the average Arvek in Blar. Usually I'd get 'go away', or 'pay up'."

His head turns as the war-golem is announced, "oh that's a neat design! It looks nothing like Khepri. OR... she? She! Must be! Those curves!"

The big Cerenzan pivots his body to catch the coinpurse against his chest, dropping it after into one of the peacoat's two large pockets. "Delivery fee?" He asks with a quirked eyebrow, turning away from Nemori for the moment.

Bob looks beyond the familiar faces then and raises a hand in greeting, sucking in a deep breath and reinforcing his smile. "Muse' grace, friend. I'm afraid the forge is cooling for the night but our ledgers are open with orders to be filled in a reasonable time." He walks a little closer to the low walls and offers a strong hand for shaking. "Robert Ilife of the Ilife Smithy. Folks call me Bob," his eyes squint a bit when he smiles further. "The lady seeing to her hardworking hands is the most promising apprentice on the block, lady Nemori."

He tilts his head, "Miss Zofija and counselor Integrity C Truefeather are friends."

"Oh, you seemed to get out of that mess alright Nemori, didn't even muck up your face some." Zofija snorts. "Delivery fee, processing fee, I got thirsty on the way and didn't have gold to pay for an ale, insurance that it'd get to you, I'm sure Tegri there can vouch for the importance of proper insurance for official business transactions..."

"It's a joke, Robert." The Arvek-nar chuckles. "Yeah, I'm one of the weird ones. But, thanks for the vote of confidence and friendship, you all." She continues to chuckle, rubbing one of her ears. "Though, just because a war golem goes about looking all lady like, don't go assuming it's a lady. Trust me from experience, Tegri."

If there's a sweep of the speakers in turns as they chime in, the figure's features give no such indication as her hand returns to her side. It's only as Robert returns his own wave and elaborates on the status of the shop that her chin dips reluctantly perhaps in a little nod-nod, "It's alright, thank you. I was hoping to grab something while I was out, but.."

With a fairly natural seeming shrug of a shoulder, Toha clasps the man's hand with a, "Toha, it's nice ta meetcha!"

'Toha' being the yrch-speech for 'forge' for those in the know.

Her head adjusts angle to definitively regard each of the others as the forgemaster indicates them, and her hand lifts once more with a, "Nice to meet you all. I'm... not interrupting, am I? Because I can move on."

Nemori unwraps her one hand, slowly flexing her fingers. They're by no means back to normal, but at least she has a range of motion now. She wraps the other clawed hand, working at the covered fingers for a moment, then she reaches down to pick up the purse that had been tossed her way. She sets it aside without counting it. Either she trusts Zofija with the amount, or is making a point of making it seem that way. "You are not. If you are looking for nails, then you have found the right apprentice. If you wish something more complicated than that.. as Robert has said, the ledgers are open." She continues to flex her fingers, shifting so that she can continue to keep her right side facing at as much of an angle away from everyone else as she can.

Nemori's hand twitches, rising partway up to her head when Zofija recalls the face muckers. "Perhaps. It was still a debacle."

The bluejay bobs in place, "We're just talking, talking. You can certainly place an order. Leave an address and I'l tell you when it's finished."

He looks between the other two, "so it was terrible jellyfish? Is it related to advisory?"

"I'm afraid we're a small operation and don't keep much in stock," Bob responds, half-turning to one side as he stifles a yawn. "Recently-opened, too, so it's entirely made-to-order." He looks to one side at Nemori's mention of the nails and corrects himself: "Almost-entirely made-to-order."

The Cerenzan steps back into the work space and drops both hands into his coat pockets. "IC and I recently arrived from Sendor. Miss Zofi is here from--" a half-beat pause-- "Blar." He'd heard that two or three times. "And the lady is also from out of town." He cants his head, waving the wargolem in if she so chooses.

"It's nice to meet you, Toha," he smiles, tilting his head.

"Ah... before I forget," he waves a hand towards the icon nailed above the entrance. "We work beneath our Lady Inspiration but I plan to observe the Wonder Lord's Day this coming Tariday. You're all invited," he glances between Jay, Nemori, and Zofija. "Crafters need not craft but bench space will be available as needed. Food and drink and a bit of conversation for all."

The foreign fellow looks back to the war golem and gives another nod, this one a shallow tilt of the head. "You're welcome to join us, too, Toha. If you'd pay homage to Reos."

"Myrrish kingdoms, not Blar." Zofi corrects with a small grunt. "Guess you can say I'm from Blar though, it's not entirely incorrect."

"I can't think of a place Toha wouldn't be more welcome than the forge here, though." The Arvek-nar chuckles. "Don't sweat it Nemori, no plan survives contact with the enemy, specially when the plan doesn't even know who the enemies are. I'm just glad things worked out with a modicum of success."

"Jellyfish?" Toha wonders, cocking her head a little bit, "Sounds.... squishy." her tone becoming dubious at the last.

Noting the bandages, a hand lifts slightly toward her waist, but pauses, "I have somethin that might help if yer hands are bothering you." She doesn't make special note of the woman trying to keep a particular side to herself. She has little quirks like that, herself.... and she got an eyeful the last time she got too helpful.

It was a conundrumm.

But, as business is still coming up, she replies, "I was looking to buy ingots, but I can come by another time, thanks."

She nods to Robert at the invitation, "That sounds nice, thank you! I'll try to come by." even as she steps inside, withdrawing a small, crystal and brass spheroid from one of the pouches dangling from her hip.

With Zofija's clarification, she nods and returns, "I'm from Dran."

"I'll show up for the celebration, sure bob!" Integrity says with enthusiasm, "I can't craft, but I can do some mean oration. I'm from Sendor, same place as Robert."

The bluejay stretches, arching his back and spreading his wings out. "I should go to my nest and sleep. Nice meeting you Toha."

He wraps himself around Robert again, giving another hug, "and be more careful next time!"

"We could barely see them, Integrity. Small balls of transparent ooze. That could jump." Nemori works at her fingers a little more before she pulls the wet and warmed rag a little, having cooled back to the temperature of the evening air by now. She flexes her fingers on that hand, now.. and like the other, there is improvement.. but still obvious stiffness. She rises, crosses over to return it to the bucket.

Her temper seems to have cooled as well. She's not trying to avoid anyone anymore, having finger combed her hair back into place. Her face twists a little bit at Robert's invitation, though she doesn't decline or complain. She just nods, accepting it. "I believe my schedule is free," she offers him, then proceeds towards the smithy's entrance, stepping by Zofija. She looks for a moment like she might respond to the Arvek's attempt to get Nemori to brush it off, but then she shrugs. As she steps past Toha, she is at least gracious enough to tell the war golem, "No thank you. My hands will be fine. If you will excuse me, I must go look for a hammer." And then she's outside, walking the perimeter of the smithy.

She does pause once, turning to look at Jay one more time, then she looks away and steps into the shadows behind the building.

"My mistake, miss Zofija; afraid the day's got the better of me," apologizes the Cerenzan. Afterwards, he turns and lifts his eyebrows at Toha.

"My oldest's wife is from Dran," Bob responds, firing up a bit and chuckling at the happy coincidence. "Oruch. Wonderful woman. Insightful..." he grimaces only to grin. "Painfully so."

The Cerenzan quiets long enough to follow Nemori's departure. The mild concern a passing thing but plain as day. He laughs, surprised by Jay's embrace, and returns the bluejay's hug with an added pat to his back between his wings.

There's a scan of the smithy before Bob sets to cleaning up, making sure to gather the tools abandoned in the mul'niessa's frustration. He makes a point to collect the half-finished ingot and drops it into the pocket opposite his newly-acquired purse.

"No worries Robert, it's an honest mistake when someone goes walking around like they could be Blar cavalry on parade." Zofija chuckles. "Your son has good taste. Take care, and all that. Good to meet you too Toha, Robert is a good sort, so you shouldn't have trouble hanging out around here."

"Yeah, the things were hiding in the jellyfish. Don't know if they created the illusions, or something else did, but they're still dangerous." The Arvek-nar adds.

"Well, I'm heading out too, too!" Integrity says happily, waving a wing, "Catch you in the morning. Early!" Off he goes.

As the woman takes her leave, Toha's head cocks a little in much the same way as it had before and she shrugs, returning the object to the leather pouch dangling from her waist.

There's a considered look, though her immutable faceplate renders it more stern, "I'd like to meet her, sometime!" she returns, "I was raised by Oruchs."

There's a glance toward Zofija, and she inquires, "Are there more running around?"

Then, to the bluejay's imminent departure she lifts her hand to wave with a, "Nice meeting ya, take care, now!"

"Yeah, good to see you Tegri, I doubt I'll be around in the morning, or much at all really tomorrow, but you're probably talking to Robert or Nemori. Take care, watch yourself on the way back to wherever you're staying." The Arvek-nar grunts, waving the legalrin off. "More floating and bouncing around than running, unless you're talking about the oruch ladies, in which case, I sure hope so." Zofija chuckles. "Hard to tell because of the illusions, but the others reckoned there were more of those acid balls in the water, and at least two were chucked back into it. What worries me is their capacity for ambushing boats, assisted or not."