In the Market

Mikilos hums absently to himself, moving thru the night marketplace to a closed up shack, a small cart of supplies trundling noisily behind him. Propping up the front shutter with a stick, the elf murmurs a brief incantation, lighting up the empty shelves inside.

Craft is out for an evening stroll of his own, though he's accompanied by the wolfish hound. Judging by the intensive sniffing everything's getting, the trip seems to be the idea of the quadruped. Craft turns at the sound of the cart, and moves closer to Mikilos at the lights.

Mikilos takes the cover off the cart, and begins to display a range of simple works, ranging from blade and bows, to a few jewelry pieces, a a couple of simple clockwork devices. There's some small level of organization to the collection of curiosities, but it's mostly wherever there happens to be room upon the crude shelves.

"Odd time to be setting up shop," Craft says. When the unsleeping construct questions your business hours, it's freaking late.

Mikilos turns, quirking a brow, and smiles upon spying the speaker. "No odder a time than for taking a walk. Have a commission finished, and the customer cared to meet in the market. Figured might as well set up for the morning so long as I'm here. How have you been? Haven't seen you around for a while."

"I was securing supply routes," Craft explains. He nods his head towards the dog. "They make a mess if I keep them inside too long," he explains. He briefly considers the wares, leaning in to get a better look at the clockwork devices, a brief shimmer to his goggles that could have easily been oddly reflected light from Mikilos' own spell.

The clockworks are simple in design, though well made. A wind-up mechanical timer, a couple of simple toys, and a few parts to larger devices, their exact purpose difficult to guess at a mere look.

Mikilos nods, one brow raising in mild curiosity. "What sort of supplies?" The elf crouches down, offering a hand to the dog. The wizard is really more of a cat person, but has nothing against canines.

The dog sniffs at Mikilos's hand, giving it a lick, waving his tail in a good natured manner, letting out a single bark. "Smithing, primarily. Some of the merchant families were trying to raise the price on iron. Surprisingly few smiths speak Goblin. Also, I can say from experience that the influx of adventurers is not greatly increasing the demand for iron, as they claim," he explains. Someone sent the Kulthian abomination to be diplomatic. The smiths must have been desperate.

Mikilos nods absently. "Weapons are a drain on the iron supply, certainly, but nothing compared to the industrial use. Any idea on why the raise? Just a craving for additional profits?"

"And the more experienced adventurers prefer other materials to iron," Craft remarks, a pointed gesture to the adamantine of his armor and weapon. "Part of it. There actually was some supply issues, but nothing justifying the price they wanted to charge. I suggested a potential solution, however. Scrap. Weapons break, tools bend. Reforging from scrap isn't any easier, but on the scale they'd be doing it, if they could get their customers to set aside scrap..."

Mikilos nods. "The actual forging, no, but the smelting section goes quite easier from scrap. I've long pondering making a large scale scrap smelter with an automated processing system, but I haven't yet the resources."

"You'd need to do it at considerable scale," Craft says. "No one smith has enough scrap to make it worthwhile. You'd need to institute the program on a city-wide scale to turn profits. If the smelter goes idle, it will need to be allowed to cool, but if it cools then you lose time warming it back up, and if you keep it hot while not in use you're wasting fuel. It would need to run continuously for proper efficiency."

Mikilos nods. "Magical fire eliminates a lot of the downtime. Though of course brings it's own problems. I'm mostly thinking a semi-mobile unit for ruins and wrecks. A crashed airship, for example."

Craft goes quiet for a moment at this, perfectly still while the canine goes and hikes a leg on a neighboring cart. "It could be useful for smelting adamantine from the ruins, but the cost benefit ratio would need some examining. As you said, a manaforge has costs. There's a reason I continue to use traditional methods."

Mikilos nods. "I've taken a look, and the start up expense is high, but I think the eventual payoff would be worthwhile. Especially if an emergency situation arrises. An attack upon the city, part is destroyed. A swift method to productively dispose of the resulting rubble would prove quite useful, I think."

"That would largely be stone," Craft remarks. "Difficult to salvage, generally useless once damaged too much for it's original purpose." He stomps a foot on the street. "Well, nearly."

Mikilos nods. "But far better in neat piles than blocking the street."

"Baring large constructs, however, the best way to move a lot of stone would be manual labor, I believe. It would likely be a question for the dwarves, they've worked with stone far more than I have," Craft says evenly, a glance to the side to keep an eye on his canine companion.

Mikilos nods again. "All fairly much theory at this point anyway. I can make a few simple clockworks," he motions absently towards the display "and summon complex workers for a short time. But complex automations remain beyond my current power."

"I believe the lie beyond everyone's current power," Craft remarks, being such an automaton. "Though I am unsure how I feel about more like myself being created just to move stone. Stick to tools, let the world supply the workers."

Mikilos shakes his head. "Not a self aware golem, just an automation. Such constructs aren't particularly difficult to create. A full war-golem, yes, such technology has been mostly lost. Do I think if had the mind to, I could replicate the process, eventually."

"You're not the first to say that," Craft says, the metal edge to his voice somewhat softened. "Perhaps, someday, someone will begin making new golems. Perhaps not. I still consider it easier to stick to tools. No one argues over a hammer's sentience."

Mikilos snorts softly, and grins. "There's a few exceptions. Are more than a few tales of powerful magical items with minds of their own. Recall one of a dranish maul, which is pretty much a hammer."

"Further complicating matters," Craft agrees with a nod of his head. "I prefer tools of my own making. I do not believe in making slaves of anything."

Mikilos nods in agreement. "Servants, not slaves. Though in such cases the distinction can be difficult. Though no less important."

"Not all that keen on servants either, to be entirely honest," Craft remarks. "I do work for other people, but it is on my own terms, I decided to do this work, and I draw enjoyment from it." Maybe that's why he's never taken an apprentice.

Mikilos nods. "There are those who prefer to be told what to do. Not everyone is suited to be a servant. Trouble arrises when the wrong person gets into the wrong position."

"I prefer to let beings choose their own path... more or less," Craft says. "I've ended the paths of enough that I can't call that an absolute."

Mikilos nods, and sighs. "One of the more difficult parts of being an Adventurer. Wondering what your opponents might have done with themselves had they been redeemed."

"Nothing as good as I have done with their attempts on my life stopped," Craft says, with all the tone of the decision having already been made. He doesn't worry about the killing he's done.

Mikilos nods, and shrugs. "Would be nice to convert foes, rather than slay them. But I agree, far better to slay them then to allow them to slay you."

Craft nods his head, and taps at his shin to get the dog's attention. "I should be going. I will let you continue setting up shop."

Mikilos hrmms, blinks, and nods, having somewhat forgotten what he'd been doing. "Ah, yes, thank you. Have a nice walk. Hope to see you again, perhaps on some Guild business."

"I have been meaning to get back out. I have some new inventions that need field testing," Craft remarks, and raises a hand in parting, turning and walking off.

Mikilos waves as well, and turns back to getting set up for the coming morning.