A Legal Letter Opener

Log Info

• Title: A Legal Letter Opener
• Emitter: Robert
• Characters: Robert, Nemori, Jay, Eztli
• Place: A02: Lower Trades District
• Time: Monday, May 16, 2022, 4:08 PM
• Summary: Robert is working on his titan armour, with Jay hovering around, metaphoricaly, watching progress. Jay asks if anything should be documented regarding his alchemical processes, and Bob suggests waiting until he's sure. Nemori arrives with news that some prices are changing. A customer appears soon after, a small sith'makar sorceress who wishes to buy a knife. Jay extols the benefits of a custom knife, saying he used to have one until a Judge borrowed it permanently. Eztli agrees, she will need one for her small hands, and Nemori feels up to the task. She's less sure when Jay asks her to make him one, as a letter opener, that resembles a feather. Robert heads out for a dinner engagement, returning later. In the meantime, Jay senses Nemori is uncomfortable with customers and hangs around until they're alone and Robert returns, then he flies off. The two remaining discuss into the night.

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=<* A02: Lower Trades District *>=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

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.

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  Appearing, in order of height  =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Robert       6'3"     235 Lb     Human             Male      A middle-aged Cerenzan with a friendly, fatherly vibe.
Jay          5'9"     145 Lb     Eaglefolk         Male      A perky male Blue Jay with a discerning eye.    
Nemori       4'10"    110 Lb     Mul'niessa        Female    A tall and slender, dark skinned elf.
Eztli        5'6"     140 Lb     Sith-Makar        Female    A two-toned, short sith-makar.
Leetle       3'6"     34 Lb      Goblin            Male      Gobbo in a blue coat and orange hat.
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=

The rain is light and quiet, a subtle, pattering susurration that's almost inescapable in spite of its relatively low volume. The wind is infrequent and furtive, picking up occasionally to push the lazy downpour sideways only to disappear for extended periods of time.

The smithy is alight with shifting, rainbow shades spilling out into the grey streets. The red-orange of the forge, the nearly neon blue of the aetherite, a yellow-gold glow from the bobbing ioun torch, and the occasional infusion of dark purples, greens, and stretching black shadows of ancient sciences all mingle. Heavy tarpaulin stretches between some the framing members to block out the worst of the rain and wind. The large, red-skinned cerenzan is busy with tongs and hammer.

The great form of the titan armor is disassembled, dissected, and hanging around the outside edges of the workspace. It's been treated somehow and has a flat black look to it now, with brass edging in contrast. There's a blue-silver glittering to the plates when the light catches it just right. The echoing percussion comes at a measured pace as he works on a larger, rounded piece of plating.

Adding to the colour is a black, white and blue jay eglarin. In addition to his feathers he has a sunny, summer ensemble of yellows, whites and a cool grey vest. He's perched on the low wall of the smithy, tucked under the tarpaulin and eating a tomato while watching the proceedings.

"Why the flat black? Shouldn't it be shiny? Shiny things are good." A personal opinion shared by all birds, he bites off another squishy slice of the red fruit.

"I've never worked with an infusion before," Robert answers through the cloth mask tied over his nose and mouth, glancing towards the egalrin. He drops the hammer again, the grunt of effort lost beneath the dull crash of the tool falling on the treated metal. After a deliberate inspection, the blacksmith takes the armor plate and steeps it in a bucket of murky, silvery water. "Processing solid adamantine into a liquid wash was difficult enough. It honestly didn't occur to me to wonder if the end result would have a sheen."

The apron and gloves he wears have suffered backsplash and have a sort of scaly coating in several places; like patches of dried, discolored skin on the leather. The smell of the process isn't the most pleasant, either, but the worst of the fumes to up and along the slanted roof.

"The enclave had some interesting insights but we're all working from foundational science that was established thousands of years ago and almost entirely forgotten." He withdraws the plate from the water and eyes it again, turning the tongs to inspect every bit of it. "... matte or not, I'll be happy if the whole thing doesn't come apart the next time I'm hit."

The bluejay nods. His protection against the smell is a sort of half-mask over his nostrils and bound underneath his beak, while leaving his beak free. He either doesn't, or isn't currently, inhaling through his mouth. "Well the results hopefully will be more pretty than the process."

"I guess adamantine is rare enough there's little experimentation, seeing what sorts of patinas and patterns you can come up with. Have you seen those thousand fold blade with the water patterns in them? I bet you'd have to hit that a million times to get a thousand folds."

His head bobs eagerly, "You'd know for sure it would survive a hit in combat then. Anything I should write down, for the ages?"

"Codrin's had a mural commissioned just off the main theatre square." Bob grins with his eyes when he answers, dropping his hammer into the loop on his belt on his way to hang the final armor plate. "He's still working through ideas but Shuf smuggled some of his sketches out to show me; it's going to be fantastic."

Plate settled, he turns and half-tosses the tongs back into a wooden-handled box and dusts his gloved hands off against each other. He moves to the walls, then, and rolls up a tarp to let a bit more airflow through.

"Their baby is finally starting to sleep through the whole night (I think Leah's the happiest about that). Olo's obsessed with a colorful bird one of the neighbor's keeps." He shifts around a few things and idles briefly by the open, ancient text he's been using as a reference recently.

"... but I'm not sure what the ages would do with that info," he looks across the way and winks. "We can make some notes on the formulae once the results are proven. How're things with you, IC?"

Nemori was off on errands. Robert had mentioned requiring full access to the forge for some work/experimentation/mad scientist project, and she'd given the smithy a complete cleaning the night before, so in an effort to become more familiar with the city... to start venturing forth, little by little, out of the two small bubbles security that have been granted her... Nemori had been attending to other matters. Specifically, arranging with the mining guild a new order for a small shipment refined ore to replace the material used lately. So. Many. Nails.

She steps inside the smithy compound quietly, not wishing to disturb the conversation. She is also not in the habit of announcing her presence. Once out of the rain she removes her hat, tilting it and giving it a little shake to help it shed some of the water it has collected, then hangs it to dry. She is dressed in her work smock and trousers, though she makes no move to grab an apron; instead she moves towards the ledger and the other paperwork. Namely, the inventories.

"They're good. Good!" Jay says enthusiastically, the follows up with a more ambivalent insistence, "mostly good. Still good. Weird dreams."

He shifts on his perch, leaning forwards, "Tell me about the colourful bird? Red and White? What's the mural going to be about. Excellent that baby sleeps through the night!"

"AH!" The egalrin startles, feathers fluffing, wings spreading, "Oh, it's you! Nemori. Hi Nemori. It's a terrible day out, bad for flying. Feathers get too sodden and then I can't get off the ground. Like your hat.

Which in the perverse nature of things, had waited until her attention was turned to fall off the peg. Jay hops over and picks it up and shakes it again, re-hanging it.

"Mostly red but with blue-and-green wings and a white beak. Very, very long tail feathers. We agreed to make a visit and see him up close if we're allowed-- once the weather's cleared up." The next leg of ongoing grandpa adventures are relayed with a smile. Once the place has had a chance to air out he'll pull his mask down and give the newly-arrived mul'niessa a nod and a "Lady Nemori" in greeting.

"He seems to be leaning towards the gods as his subjects but the layouts range from the anthropomorphized to the abstract... I can't wait to see what he decides." He looks down at his work gloves and flexes his fingers, folding them deliberately into a tricky, mirrored gesture that causes all the grit, grime, and grease to flake and fall away, leaving them pristine and like-new.

The blacksmith watches Nemori awhile and closes the old book on the tabledesk. "Productive outing?" he wonders simply.

"Hello Integrity," Nemori responds to Jay politely, though not turning until the's found the list she was looking for. She runs her finger down sheet, stopping at a point where she crosses out a number, replacing it with another. Then she turns, just in time to see him replacing the hat. "It was a gift," she explains to him. "I have taken a liking to it. It does well with the rain and the sun both." There's even a smile for the bird man, though her smiles remain questionable.

Then she replaces the cover for on the clipboard and sets the inventory aside. "It was," Nemori confirms to Robert. "Your 'friend'.. the clerk Vincenzi? He agreed to maintaining the agreement you negotiated for your previous order, but warned that he is expecting a shortage next month. He will have to raise the prices."

"Oh those feather patterns sound very beautiful, and extra long tail feathers are to be desired." The bluejay says happily, "I long ago resolved not to be jealous of the lesser species, but it's still a challenge when they can be so gifted! Let me know if I can come along!"

He nods as the mural is described, in the abstract, which makes it a little easier to imagine.

"It's a nice hat, Lady Nemori. Who gave it to you? See? You're making more friends already. Wait! If he's changing the contract, you have grounds for a dispute Bob. You could sue. Sue!"

"Just a verbal agreement between friends, IC," Bob answers without the inflection on the f-word that Nemori employed, turning to look her way. "We'll have time to shop around, lady, but I imagine that Vince is offering the fairest price he can manage. Still: measure twice, cut once."

The blacksmith peels the gloves off his hands and drops them into his apron pocket, flexing his fingers and inspecting his bandaged palm.

"The adamantine performed admirably in spite of his concerns... and I've enough remaining to refine further and reinforce the infusion once I understand the more complex formulae." He pauses, pawing at the book again, but catches himself and eases the battered binding back closed. The contents have been of particular interest recently and most of his idle hours are spent puzzling over and devouring the information within (and napping, too) in his reading chair.

The streets of Alexandria were not that confusing, but it was still a new city like any other, which meant that it was still confusing to people who had never been through them before. And a rainstorm only made it all that much more difficult.

There's a large wavering disc of fabric and metal bobbing slowly through the streets outside of the smithy. It was only when they got closer that it was obviously a rather small sith-makar walking down the street. And there was a smithy! The makari turns sharply, and changes course to the small business.

"Good day to all of you here. I hope that I am not interrupting anything." The small sith greets, holding the gyroparasol in front of them and bowing, before it is quickly returned to above them. "Are you currently open and taking orderss, or do you have preexissting sstock available for purchase?"

Nemori's smile twitches a little bit, then she gestures towards Robert, her wrist drooping, her finger extending lazily towards the red skinned man. "It was a gift from our friend," she explains. So. Still just two friends. Maybe three. Then she drops her hand and turns to fully face the pair, leaning against the bench. "You know him better, so you are probably correct," she concedes to Robert, before her eyes drift to the titan armour that remains in pieces. Before she can ask about his experimentation, however, her attention is drawn to the little Sith Makar approaching. She quirks her head a little bit, frowning, but doesn't express whatever her thought is. "A customer, Robert." As if the big man couldn't see for himself.

"A lizard wizard! Or a meddler peddler! Or a charter barterer!" The bluejay eglarin chirps happily, "oh wait, that's me! Hello! Welcome to the shop. I'm Integrity C Truefeather, esquire. The 'C' is for conversationalist."

He bows while waving a wing towards the Cerenzan, "That's Bob! The Smith, his name doesn't rhyme because he's not robin'a'bobbin or a pithy smithy."

His other wing flaps out, "This is Lady Nemori, the fearless earless! She's a friend. Friend!"

"Yes, please, come in," Bob greets, standing and waving Eztli forward. "We've plenty of room on the ledger; I was just putting the finishing touches on a personal project." He waves around and what appears to be a disassembled clockwork golem. He's clearly been at work and just taking a break; thinning hair hanging wet and skin slick like he'd just stepped out of the rain.

"I'm Bob--" he agrees with the others before wondering "What is it you're in the market for?"

The inside of the smithy is worm even with the cross-breeze and still smells vaguely of ozone, alchemical compounds, and hot metals.

"I am only a customer if I actually make use of their services, but still, I would like to be treated like one in case I do in fact end up making any purchases." The makari replies, with what could only be a light grin. "Ah, no, legal egalrin Integrity Conversationalist Truefeather, I don't have nearly the extensive amount of studies or research to consider myself a lizard wizard. More of a sith sorceress, or makari magician." They continue, laughing quietly to themself.

"You have room for orders? Well, very well then! I was just in the market for a dagger, or something like that. I've been traveling through this town and figured that it would be a prudent purchase given the sheer number of questionable looks given my way. Are you working on making a golem, Bob? I thought that knowledge died with the fall of the Kulthian empire."

GAME: Nemori rolls bluff: (13)+7: 20

Nemori does her best to hide her wince, turning her head to further obscure the hair covered right side of her head even as a hand reaches up.. presumably to make sure the hair is in place. Presenting her left side and ear. Then she makes like she is straightening out tools. And, to be fair, Robert's work has likely left at least a few of them out of place. "It is good to carry around a knife. You can never be certain when it may be needed," she comments.

The egalrin twitches at the mention of a knife, his feathers ruffled. "Ah. Ah. Ah. Yes. They're very good. Knives. In the right hands. Um."

He flaps around the smithy, hopping off his perch and circling the forge and the pieces, and Nemori and Robert, to end up at the door while only generating a moderate down-draft. He can't actually fly, or glide in confined spaces. It's more he's running about with wild wings like a songbird that accidentally flew inside.

Once he's at the doorway, he's a bit calmer. "Come in! Welcome Welcome!"

"Nothing ever truly dies," Bob grins at Eztli. "But you've a good eye; the pieces form an armored suit." He shakes out his hands one last time and the pulls the gloves back out of his apron and slides his hands into them. His fist closes and a crate slides across the floor towards the mul'niessa under the power of an unseen hand.

"I have a few samples on hand and available for purchase that the lady Nemori can show you. If you'd like something custom made you can work with her on the particulars."

The big man unties and slides out of his apron, lifting to hang it on a hook as he glances between Integrity and Nemori. "I have dinner plans but I'll be back before too long," he promises, reinforcing his grin before nodding at the new makari face. "I look forward to seeing you again... but you're in good hands with the lady."

And then he's sneaking past them and into the streets of the trades district.

"Well, it's pretty insignificant compared to where it was before with everything, so not dead, but it is still around I guess." The makari shrugs. "Oh, and where are my manners! I am called Eztli, nice to meet you. Though, I guess fairly briefly? I didn't think that it was that late. If you say so, though! It kind of seems like she's trying to avoid my attention for some reason at the moment. Just like I seem to have set the conversationalist ill at ease. Don't worry, I'm not planning to go around stabbing anyone, I just need some sort of way to defend myself if I need to, you know?"

The small makari twists the large parasol around until the fabric and metal limbs collapsed in on themselves, and she could pull the handle down to lock everything in place. "I'm not so vain as to need a knife custom made, that's more of a footwear thing. So, what do you have in stock, then?"

Nemori casts a slightly pained look Robert's way, but it's not like anything she says is going to keep him here. So she lifts a hand in a silent 'have fun' gesture, loose wristed, lazy fingers tracing a vaguely double-yew shape in the air. Then she turns to fully face Etzli. Well, mostly fully. Favouring the left side a little bit. She studies the small reptilian woman again, then nods, gesturing to another part of the smithy. "Come come, then. There is not much. The forgemaster's operations are small, so we do not keep many items in stock. Most are done as orders. But a few items, knives, some basic blades. Certain tools." She walks over to a waist high cabinet, pausing a moment to work the lock before raising the top and swinging out the doors, revealing a few drawers. On the top are a small handful of daggers. Plainly made.

"Bye Bob! Bye!" Integrity flaps a wing at his departing friend. Leaving him with... the Lady Nemori, and a customer.

"A customized dagger would be neat! You could put your name on it! Like my sister's put their name on my sword!" The bluejay observes.

"Really, that's fine, good to support the small businesses and all that, isn't it?" The makari grins in the unintentionally unsettling way a makari might. "Don't worry bout me, you don't need to put your best foot forward, or face, I guess. Did you get into a fight with someone or something? I've got some medical supplies in my bag if you need to treat a black eye or something like that."

The sorceress strides more into the shop, trying to find a stool she could drag over to the cabinet so she could hop up and inspect them. "True, that would be helpful, and it has the added benefit of being proof of ownership in case anyone tried to rob me for it or I lost it somewhere. And, maybe I do need something custom made."

She reaches to pick up one of the daggers after pulling a cloth glove out of her robes to pull on, leaving only the claws on the hand exposed. The dagger looked more than a bit large in their hand. "Hard to get a good grip on the dagger's hilt, I might need something smaller."

Nemori nods slowly, stepping back so that Eztli can take her time with inspecting each of the knives. "A dagger with a smaller hilt could be made. And there are solutions that can softly score the metal, allowing for script or other designs that would not compromise its strength," Nemori says, trying not to scowl as she deliberately avoids responding to questions regarding her face. Though she does turn just enough, pulling her hair just enough, to show that no, she does not have a black eye. "Customization would carry an additional fee, but it would not be substantial. And.. yes.." She tilts her head sideways towards Jay. "Customized weapons are... neat."

Jay likewise makes room for the mini'makari, bobbing his head as Nemori outlines the options. "Bob makes knives for all kinds of hands. Mine, hers, there was a goblin around earlier. Your hands can't possibly be smaller than a goblins."

He also notices the mul'niessa's discomfort, so he has to step in. "The Lady Nemori doesn't like questions about her face." His version of being helpful is a little like pecking at an open wound.

"It's confidential. The 'C' is for confidential!" He chirps happily, "They are neat. I've got... do hunting bolas count? I'm not really a 'weapons guy' though, but I'd love a nice letter opener."

"Well, I'm not quite a goblin, am I? They use smaller weapons, and I don't think I need something lighter, at least." Eztli chuckles. "But, I don't quite have hands like a dwarf or most people, unfortunately."

"Ah, right. Ssorry, that'ss your bussinesss, Nemori. Just a proper ssized handle, and maybe my name on it ssomewhere." The makari apologizes. "Thankss for the headss up, Truefeather. A hunting bola would count, wouldn't it? you aren't doing much hunting if you can't actually catch ssomething with them, afterall. I'm ssurprissed a lawyer doesn't already have a nice letter opener, what with all the documentation they get given on any given day."

Nemori lets her breath out slowly. "It is fine," she says after a moment. "Perhaps one of these then, if you like the balance on one. You can leave it with me and I can see to the engraving." She gestures to the arrayed daggers again, then gestures to Jay. "If you wish, Integrity, perhaps I can work on a letter opener for you. Robert has been instructing me on the basics of making blades.. I believe I could manage one of those."

"Well, I did! Except when I was in Judge Sturmhrdr's court, he's a judge in Blar. He was very specific about no weapons in -HIS- courtroom, and I explained it was a letter opener." Jay explains the explanation.

"So he asked to borrow it, and well you do what a judge asks in a judge's courtroom. So I let him, and he said it was a very nice letter opener and he had some to open, so he'd get back to me."

"Except, he didn't. My letter opener or at all." The egalrin spreads his wings, "They're very touchy, judges, hard to find when they're not in court. Then I left Blar to come here with Robert. So it's unfinished things, in Blar. I should go back. It's just a short teleport away."

"OH! You should know Eztli, you can't teleport in the city. You have to go outside."

Jay nods enthusiastically at Nemori, "Oh yes, I'd like that, if you made a dagger for me. I mean, for me, not 'for' me."

His insistence on the distinction is odd.

"Hmm. I like the weight on a few of thesse, I'm ssure there'ss one that would work." Eztli hums after she puts the one she had down, to pick up and look at a few others. There's a moment where she fumbles around, tail whipping wildly back and forth until she gets her balance. "Ah, perfect! This one will do perfectly fine." She exclaims, picking up one she had tested prior and handing it to the elf. "Oh? No teleporting in town? That's a strange choice. It wouldn't let people teleport away in an emergency. But that is good to know."

The sith-makar hops off of her stool and drags it back to where she found it. "Go for it! Treat yourself and get a dagger that you can use for all sorts of things. Slicing apples, peeling potatoes, holding off muggers in a dark alley, it seems like a wise investment to me!"

All sorts of things! Like repeatedly stabbing an assailant to death.

Nemori nods, offers Eztli her empty smile, and accepts the dagger from her. "I can have this ready for you tomorrow, if you would like. You can offer your payment then. Since you are new, I will do the engraving for no extra charge." She balances the blade for a moment, then nods, setting it aside so she can close and lock up the cabinet again. "Yours may take a little longer than that, Integrity.. but I promise I will put everything I have learned so far into its crafting. So it can.. open many letters."

The egalrin is flighty, it goes without saying, seemingly sensitive to some subtext of conversation that keeps him shifting his weight and splaying his tailfeathers. He stares directly at Nemori and nods rapidly, "I'd like that. Something with all your experience... opening letters..."

"Hey, can it look like a feather, a little bit? I can give you a feather. I make quill pens out of my feathers, sometimes. Sometimes it's easier to buy them."

"Oh... and I don't go into dark alleyways." The bluejay insists, "Well, I have, it didn't work out well. So now I don't!"

"Oh, please do not rush it, and don't worry about it, I would rather pay for the whole project." Eztli replies quickly. "If I need anything else, I am sure I'll be back around here. That's interesting though, I guess they are still feathers! Though I'd feel weird using a feather from an egalrin for anything, but there isn't anything that would have blue feathers that size, so that's cool you can do that." The makari smiles. "I don't make a habit of going into dark alleys, no, but it never hurts to be prepared. And the problem is, it's hard to threaten someone with magic since it's not tangible, and once you use it, it's gone. So I'd rather keep that as a last resort."

The bluejay nods, observing the evolved dinosaur or devolved dragon, rough in tooth and claw and covered in scales. Even covered in clothes and somewhat of a cousin, they both have nests and come from eggs after all, the sith'makar makes for a formidable sight. He's not entirely sure her claims of being helpless and vulnerable are genuine.

He's definitely hung around mul'niessa, a mul'niessa, too much.

"Okay!" He clacks his beak. Fluffing up might make him seem larger, but has the counter effect of making him look like a puff-ball. "That's good!"

"And my bolas work great. Great! I use them all the time. Then I have to run after them." So, not necessarily successful throws. "There's lots of bigger things with feathers, even snakes! They're usually hard to get feathers from."

Nemori's eyes tighten a little bit at the request. She glances at the tools, at the forge.. closes her eyes, considering. Well, she was the one who offered. "I..." Ahem. "I can try, Integrity. I am new, please remember.. but I have been experimenting with artistic smithing. Perhaps. It will take me more than one try, I am certain. But I will try." So she approaches the blue jay, reaching forth as if to pluck one of his feathers right now. "If I might be so bold, Eztli.. you are not like the other lizard folk I have seen in the city."

"Oh, aren't you just the cutest not so little thing. The C stands for 'cute', right?" Eztli chuckles again after looking up at the fluffy egalrin. "Snakes usually have scales, not feathers. But maybe there's some magical ones out there with feathers. I've seen stranger things before."

Then her attention turns to Nemori, and she tilts her head, and lets out a small cloud of cold air. "You are welcome to be bold, yes. But yeah, I get it, I'm really short. That's just how it is."

"It's okay, they come right out." Jay tugs on the feather Nemori seemed hesitant about, and hands it to her.

He seems unsure how to respond to the 'cute' comment. Generally, 'cute' is not desired. Jay doesn't help his situation when he says, "I can get fluffier."

Nemori takes the feather, running one of her fingers lightly along its edge, then she takes a breath and lets it out in a huff. Her eyes are still tense, still obviously thinking about the task she just blindly jumped into.. but at last she nods, smoothing out the feather one last time before turning to the bench to find something to press it between. "I apologize. I did not mean to disparage your stature," she tells Eztli as she moves away. "There is nothing wrong with being short. You are till much taller than I am."

"You could? Oh, that would be even cuter." Eztli continues to laugh. "That must be wonderful during the winter, what with being able to trap body heat between them while maintaining a buffer for the cold. No wonder Egalrin often live up on mountain tops!"

"Oh, don't worry about that either, Nemori." The makari waves off. "My height doesn't bother me much, other than when it causes trouble. I'm sure you're just fine, too, though I know mul'niessa tend to be on the shorter side of Sildanyar. Just makes you easier to pick up and hug, right? And people underestimate you, too."

"No you don't want to hug her!" Jay says immediately, followed by, "Ah, without asking."

He fluffs, and then de-fluffs, and spends some time preening and adjusting his feathers. This is followed by adjusting clothes.

"Right. Well. I should go file some motions."

Nemori freezes for a moment, turning her head just enough to look at Eztli with one narrowed eye.. but Jay is there to her rescue, once again. She quickly looks away, finding an empty ledger book to store the feather, prevent it from getting crumpled. "I would think people know better than to underestimate a mul'niessa," she commends instead. Not coldly, just conversationally. She turns back around, then, and almost looks like she might say something to Jay to keep him here.. but then shakes her head and lifts her hand to him. "Have a good night, Integrity. Stay out of the shadows."

"I wasn't saying I want to hug them, Integrity. Just that it's probably easy to hug them. Physically speaking, as it looks and sounds like they don't want to be hugged." The small makari replies with another chuckle before she turns back to Nemori. "You would think, or hope at the very least. And, yeah, night huh? Guess it's getting a bit later, and I haven't really figured out where I'm going to stay tonight. So I should get that sorted, and find a bite to eat somewhere."

"I don't have to go immediately." Jay says, picking up on something. He remains at the exit, hanging around and taking up space. "I will stay out of the shadows. I wish we had the ladder, that would help a lot more."

He watches the small makari with his black beak pointed at her. "Oh! Well, the Fernwood Pub is very popular. I haven't been attacked there. Don't go to the Ox. Don't go to the Iron Brew."

Nemori wasn't expecting that.. having forgotten how perceptive Jay can be. She's at a momentary loss for words, perhaps not even knowing why she hesitated. Better to err on the safe side. She shakes her head. "No, Integrity.. I.. merely wished to ask when next you wished to spar. The wooden practice swords are back at Robert's house." Yeah, that sounds legitimate. "There are some reasonable places on the west side of the river, Eztli.. but Integrity would know better. He has been here longer."

GAME: Nemori rolls bluff: (9)+7: 16

"Just going off of those names is enough to tell me that they're more on the rougher things, that's something good to keep in mind." The makari nods. "Fernwood, that's a nicer name, and if I don't feel like scrounging up rumors in some seedy tavern today, I'd rather get a decent night's sleep tonight."

"And don't sell your own opinion short either, I'm not asking anyone in particular." The sorceress chuffs as she un-clicks and prepares the large umbrella again. "But, opinions aren't a replacement for first hand experience, either. I'll check them out, thanks for taking the order and the chat! It was quite nice really."

"Oh! Oh. Practice swords. Those don't hurt, much, right? You know I have hollow bones." Integrity squawks, suddenly flustered, "Soon. We should practice soon, I need the practice."

"The Fernwood is very nice, allegedly." The bluejay confirms, nodding once more, "always glad to help a customer. Have a pleasant evening!"

He has a beak, he can't really smile, he sounds pleasant enough.

Nemori nods smartly. "It was good to meet you, Eztli.. and as I said, I should have your knife ready for you tomorrow. I will start work on it first thing in the morning." Then she turns her empty smile on Jay. "It will hurt, but that helps reinforce the lesson. Pain is a good teacher."

"Yes, nice to meet you, Nemori, and you too, Integrity." She replies once the umbrella is sorted and back over her head. "Nothing wrong with a bit of training, it'll get easier the more you do it, so I've been told."

"Anyways, ah, peace on your nests! I'll be back sometime tomorrow, so make sure it's ready! Or don't worry, I don't mind any delays. Seems like you really want to spar with them."

"Catch you later!" She finishes, leaving the small smithy behind her as she returned to the rainy streets.

"Okay. Okay! Bye! Bye!" Integrity waves as Eztli departs, watching the sith'makar leave.

Alone in the smithy with Nemori, he ends up staring at her, his beak slowly opening and closing. Finally he says, "A lot of pain?"

"Because I studied law, and I learned a lot, and it only hurt in a metaphysical sense." His wings flaps, "not the physical, not at all."

"How much pain, exactly, allegedly?"

Nemori shakes her head sharply. "You can wear padding," she offers. "But in my experience, the greater the pain, the greater the motivation to avoid it," she offers to him. She waves to Etzli, patting the dagger she that the sith makar wants. "I mean, you're talking me out of practicing at all!" Jay squawks, "Maybe... with a lot of padding."

He might resemble a ball.

The egalrin leans out, looking up and down the street, "I don't see any more customers coming. Do you want to be alone?"

Nemori stares at Jay for a moment at his question.. seeming, for some reason, ill at ease over it. Then she nods, turning away again to begin the process of locking things up for the evening. "I will be fine, Integrity," she says, her voice a little different than usual. "Do not let me keep you from your tasks. I can take care of things here. I am good at.. opening letters."

It's been a few hours and the rain continues along with a bolstered wind. Bob returns with hair that had been neatly combed starting to hang down to his forehead and a comfortable-but-handsome coat soaked through at the shoulders. Beneath he has a well-made kaftan that flows about his big frame. Judging by his open-toed footwear he doesn't plan on getting much more work in.

The Cerenzan grins to himself and walks under the spotty glow of streetlamps and lights spilling out from shop windows. His idle humming trails away when he steps into the light.

That prompts a bit more nervous fluttering by the egalrin, "Okay. So, if you're good, then I'm good." He hops in place, "I'm good. So. I'll see you tomorrow."

He just about bumps into Robert in his hasty exit.

Nemori slides the book pressing the feather into its small cupboard, then lcoks that up and turns. All that's left is Robert's armour. Kind of valuable. But far too much for her to carry. Just as she's realizing she's going to have to settle in to await the Forgemaster.. the humming announces his coming arrival. "Ah. Good."

"Muse' grace, IC. Goodnight," Bob pats Jay on the shoulder as they pass, turning to nod and smile at the egalrin. Even breezing past the blacksmith smells of incense and perfumes. He pauses at the short gate and turns, calling after: "We'll knock on the neighbor's door tomorrow if the weather improves. If they're up for letting Olo say 'hi' we'll make a date for the next visit. So you can the bird." He lifts a big hand to wave before turning and stepping fully inside.

"Kismet," he laughs in response to her mild relief. "Sorry we ran late. Let's get this packed up, lady. My thanks for waiting." He pushes his hair back off his forehead and nods, the subtlest imprint of waxy lipstick on his cheek.

"Okay! Okay! Sounds good!" Jay seems oddly hasty to leave, though he did mention motions and he isn't a night owl. The l-eagal egalrin may have official work of his own to do before the day is done.

With a wave of a wing, he's away.

Nemori watches the egalrin leave, and there might be a ghost of a real smile there. Might be. Might also be the shadows. She turns, then, and nods to Bob. "I could not very well leave this for anyone to walk by and take," she says, stepping over to the pile of golem/armour pieces to begin the process. "It seems your night was a positive one. Your.. dinner engagement."

"Codrin has grown into a remarkable man," Bob grins, his chest swelling as it often does when he talks about his children. "And Shuf..." he glances across at the mul'niessa as he lifts the larger plates of the breastplate down and off a hook. "If you had told me my head-in-the-clouds boy would marry an oruch-- a full-blooded one at that? I'd have called you mad," he says with another laugh. "But they make an excellent pair and she's a wonderful mother."

Taking down the pieces and stowing them sans re-assembly seems to be the task at hand. The nuts, bolts, straps, and buckles are a matter for another day. He has a wide leather pack that seems to be the method of transporting the pieces that he packs them into.

"The gloves were her idea; a gift for the Reosian celebration. Cod's been occupied with his mural." He nods and sighs-- "ah! And the book!" He taps the old tome he'd left behind, snatching it up and dropping it into his coat pocket. "It's hard not to enjoy a night when you're spoiled so."

Not entirely what she expected, Nemori skips a small beat.. but does her best to hide it as she gathers some of the smaller pieces of the armour. A wristplate. A pauldron. And it's plain to see Robert's acceptance of his son's choice in wives.. or perhaps the daughter-in-law's choice in husband.. so she reminds herself that this is where she is now. Disdain would be a poor thing to share right now. "I am happy to see you enjoy so much fullfillment from your family," she finally offers, an actual truth she can put forth.

"They'd all love to meet you, lady Nemori," Bob answers as he eases in the four halves of the segmented sabatons. "When you're ready."

The proud papa hikes up the bottom of his robe as he crouches, flipping the flap of the black closed now that the armor's gathered. "If we bring Integrity you'd be spared the brunt of the grandkids. Shufharsz was new to the city not too long ago. She may have some tips; insights an old man lacks," he adds the self-deprecating joke with a smile. Sharp blue eyes scan the interior of the shop, looking ot see if anything else needs cleaning, stowing, or locking-up before they leave. Realizing Nemori has it handled, he can't help but laugh.

The pack is shouldered and Bob stands with a grunt, steadying against the anvil for a moment before slipping into the other strap.

"Kismet," he repeats before nodding his head at the gate and the city outside the smithy.

"I know not this word," Nemori finally admits as she steps ahead to hold the gate open for the now heavily burdened artificer. Avoiding the topic of meeting the family. "Is it a part of your devotion to Vaire? Or the temple?" She's been thinking about that for a little while now. "Integrity asked me to make him a knife," she goes on to say. "In light of your recent instruction, I felt up to the task." 'But' hangs heavily on to the end of that. "He wishes me to craft it looking similar to a feather." There it is.

Fade to complications.

OOC

<OOC> Nemori says, "opening letters might become a running joke."
<OOC> Jay says, "true!"
<OOC> Nemori says, "Hey Jay, did you open many letters while you were away? Oh, Jay, I wish you'd been here, there were so many letters to open. Jay, do you want to come with us to help open some letters?"
<OOC> Jay says, "heheee"

Dramatis Personae

Leetle
The first thing one usually notices about the Goblin is the bright orange cap that he wears upon his head. It appears to be made of wool, and it has two flaps that hang down, normally these would cover the wearer's ears... but sadly, they don't do a thing for him. A pair of goggles are strapped tightly around his forehead, over the hat, looking like they might easily be dropped down and used.

Next would be his large, pointed ears, though they have seen some rough wear, each has several cuts and tears. Somehow they've remained mostly symmetrical.

His face is rounded, somewhat cherubic almost, were it not for the lack of halo and the fangs that protrude from his lower lip. The skin is a pale green, as if he'd been a shirt washed too many times and left in the sun, at least compared to other Gobbos. An eye patch covers his left eye, with a scar that appears to go through his eye, starting above the eyebrow and ending below on the cheek. The Gobbo's good eye is a pale yellow in colour, and take in everything that goes on around him with a cool, calculating look.

Dangling from the end of his mouth is a cigar. The thing is usually lit, with at least a quarter of an inch of ash, which is dislodged at times as he waggles the thing around in his mouth. From time to time he pauses and takes a long, long drag from the cigar, and exhales slowly, tapping it to dislodge yet more ash.

One would not call the Gobbo tall by any stretch of the imagination, for he's three foot six, if an inch, and probably lighter than a kid sister in weight. The long, blue jacket he's wearing stretches from head to toe, and is lined with many pockets. It's open at the front, the buckles and belt used to close it have long since been lost. A red shirt can be seen, as well as a black pair of pants. Heavy boots cover his feet, and they are the only piece of clothing that look new, the boots having been polished to a keen shine.

Most alarmingly... the Gobbo is armed to the teeth! A knife can be seen on each hip, as well, a pair of large pistols are cross-braced in the waist of his pants. A bandalero of ammo is cinched tightly around his chest, and over his right shoulder.

Eztli
The first thing likely noticed about this sith-makar is how incredibly short they are, at least by the race's standards. Followed by the colors of their scales. It is hard to tell for certain which is predominant, but Eztli appears to be white with brass scales, and the structure of their face tends to confirm this, with frills on both sides of their face like the white scaled dragons the makari may claim ancestry of. The upper portion of these frills extend out and taper off to two points facing backwards, like many sith-makar who developed such horns after a century. The brass scales are no less pronounced however, covering the underside of their chin and throat, many large patches of the metallic scales, and spatterings everywhere else, reminiscent of a field thawing at the end of winter. Their eyes are a light blue, and the makari's thin tail ends with several flexible spines.

Their dress is not typical for a sith-makar. Eztli wears a soft looking and large purple robe that opens at the waist, and a pair of loose fitting brown pants, with a pair of oiled black leather boots that leave openings for front and back claws and several straps to put them on. The robe has numerous pockets sewn into it, filled with all manner of odds and ends.