Closed Through the Hustle and Bustle (Kit)

[Adrian]

Note for whomever grades thisFor my part of this thread, you don't need to produce a grade as I am retiring this character. Thank you for your time, and attention.

36th of Summer, 513 AV

Down a canal heading out of the Noble District, Adrian sat back comfortably on a Ravosala, staring idly at the glittering waters. Surprisingly, at least to Adrian's point of view, it was another day of perfect weather in Ravok. There hadn't even been a storm or unbearably hot day since he'd been brought to the city, the latter he'd expect to happen at least a handful of times with Summer coming to be in full swing. As it was though, even when the clouds did open up it was only a light pleasant rain, and cloudless days when the sunshine was fullest, it yet remain pleasant. Quite the puzzle, and one he wasn't even close to solving.

Just ahead, the platform he would be getting off at awaited him. Securing his pack, he stepped off of the Ravosala and into the Merchant's ring. While he had trouble navigating through the rest of the city, the route to the shop he worked within was rather direct, the rather small, nondescript place nestled between a cobbler's place and a jeweler's. The jeweler's had a sign that was placed high above the building, which Adrian could see high above the heads of those around him, and crossing the plaza, he headed towards the shop.

oocI kept this rather short because I wanted to leave it rather open for however you would want to enter the thread. I hope this is alright.

[Kit Rowan]

Kit crouched on a rooftop as Ravosalas passed the canals beneath her toes and persons walked winding paths over makeshift roads that grew wider and more frequent as the city drew closer and closer to the Merchant's Ring, all the better for people to wander and browse. Kit herself lay, knees bent, center of gravity low, dressed in close-fitting brown leathers. When she had purchased them at first she'd feared that the summer heat would render moving in it impractical, but she had underestimated the pleasantness of Ravok's weather. It was eerie and Kit did not trust it, but she would take it.

Kit made a leap, landing on a another rooftop, her bare feet sliding and scratching backward a moment before she found enough traction to stop slipping. Kit breathed, crawled up the side of the roof toward the top and looked over the market as it bustled and sang the sound all cities make when afternoon is drawing near it close. There was sweat on Kit's brow, and her body cried out for relief from movement. She tried to massage comfort back into her arms.

Last delivery. Last spot.

Kit made another jump, landing firmly on the roof of Adrian's forge, her landing a muffled whoomph through the ceiling, her footsteps a barely audible patpatpat as Kit crossed from one end to the other. Kit vaulted off the edge of the roof, hit the ground in front of the shop in a roll to kill the momentum of the fall. She stood up and brushed off her trousers, smiled at a job done. She pulled a little piece of twice-folded paper tied with cloth from her belt and kissed it.

Marching up to the door to the little forge and pushing it open without asking, Kit waved the paper, giving the unfamiliar room a cursory glance. "Adrian, right?" Kit didn't wait for an answer. "I've a letter for you. Call me daft, but I think it's a commission."

[Adrian]

Running the back of his forearm across his sweating brow, he pushed the iron railing deeper into the forge, ignoring the oppressive expelling from its hearth as he did. The solid length of metal had just began to glow orange meaning it was almost time to start working on it, but he wanted to give it a little more time to soften up. This particular piece, a railing, required a bit of detail to meet the expectations of the request, and so more heat wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing.

Still, he felt anxious about this project. The man who asked for it appeared to be rather wealthy and easy to disappoint, something he desperately needed to avoid after that tailoring disaster yesterday. That mistake he'd likely feel for many weeks to come, a soreness prickling across his shoulders at the thought.

The iron shifted slowly into a yellowish orange, and gripping a pair of tongs in his left hand, while holding the end of the rod in his gloved right hand, he strained to pull it from the hearth as his thought about his new life in Ravok. So distracted was he that he almost missed Kit coming into the shop, but the old door creaked, and Kit thankfully announced herself.

"I've kind of got my hands full at the moment, if you could help me with this, I'll see to that letter" Came his hurried response as he was hardly in any position to meet social expectations right at that very moment. The iron rod required his full attention.

[Kit Rowan]

Kit caught Adrian in the midst of work, the hot air of the forge sending waves of warmth so far back that Kit could feel it even standing in the doorway, like a warm breeze. He looked like a blacksmith to Kit, with wide shoulders, sweating pouring over his exposed muscles. She leaned to the side, tried to get a better peek at the work he was doing. Look at that forge! How red, how hot! Kit grimaced and tugged at her jacket's collar at the very thought. How could a blacksmith manage it?

When Adrian called back to her for help, Kit peered down at herself. A slim girl of slight stature, thin and flexible she was but strong by any standards but her own she would never be. And more importantly . . . Kit meandered closer to Adrian's work, saw a long, glowing steel something inside the forge. What the petch did he even expect her to do?

All the same, this was her last delivery. Last. The sooner she got this done with, the sooner it will all be over. "If you can tell me how . . . sure?"

OOCSorry about the short post, but I just couldn't think of anything more to add.

[Adrian]

His eyes back to the forge once more, tightening his grip reflexively on the tongs and the end of the rod as he prepared to pull the rod free. "If you could move that vise- er.. the thing on the other side of the anvil to my left, and line it up with it's flat end it would be-" The rod bumped against the edge of the forge, and reacted with a shower of sparks that drew a startled cry from him. He fumbled for a surer grip on the rod with the tongs, and took a bit more weight from the handle as a result, wheeling backwards from the forge with the tip of the rod slightly angled up high.

"Quickly!" Adrian nervously called out to the messenger, not really knowing if she'd already got the vise in place or not, and not really caring for that matter. Whether she had it in place or not, he had to get this rod to the anvil or lose his grip on it all together. "Watch yourself!"

He leveled the rod before twisting towards the anvil, hoping the girl was staying well out of the way, and at last released the front end to rest with a shower of sparks against he anvil, pulling it's other end in line with the vise would be if the messenger had managed it. Tossing the tongs on the table, he firmly held the rod's end up as he turned the vise to tighten against it before at last he allowed himself a moment to rest and regard his unexpected visitor.

"Thanks for that.." He said as he wiped the back of his gloved and against the sweat beading across his forehead, and promptly took up a hammer to begin working out the edges of this railing. "Could you spare me another favor, and read it for me.. this metal needs working while its still hot, and.." A redness traced across his grime streaked cheeks, and not from the heat of the forge. He couldn't find it in him to admit to this stranger he couldn't read, and so he awkwardly groped for what to say next. "and.. I'll be sure to let my master's know of your kindness" His shame mounted with every passed word, his eyes widening at the ebbing away of his dignity. Turning away, more to his work, he hoped that he hid his growing embarrassment as he hammered rhythmically against the rod.

[Kit Rowan]

A what? Kit almost said, before Adrian wisely directed her by description rather than vocabulary. It was rather big, in proportion to her at least, and made of some metal that could have been anything from iron to isurian steel as far as she could tell. She opened her mouth again, a look of consternation on her face when he shouted in panicked urgency and Kit felt herself moving along with it.

She seized the thing—vise, was it?—with both hands and heaved. The forge was too hot to begin with, and strain beneath a layer of leather did little to improve it. Already Kit felt sweat pouring down her forehead, her body remembering the strain of the run. She tried to lift the vise, her body muttering obscenities along her nerve receptors as she exercised muscles that she was not so used to. Kit spread her feet apart to get a better grip and lift . . .

It was up! She staggered one step over. One tick two tick three tick . . . Two, three steps. five ticks, and her arms were beginning to give out on her. What a massive thing, this was! On the third tick she heaved it just high enough, dropped it where it needed dropping with a loud, metallic klung.

Kit let herself stagger backward until she hit a wall. She closed her eyes and breathed out harshly, through her nose. "This is my last delivery," Kit complained to no one in particular. "It's supposed to be easy!" She sighed and straightened her ponytail.

"What do I look like, a messenger?" Kit snorted at her own bad joke. "Right then." She pulled the letter from behind her belt and folded it open, squinted to get a better look at the over-stylized script in the curious, red-orange light of the forge. She rattled off the name of the client before moving on to the main content of the letter. "Master Nitrozian," she rolled her eyes, "requests . . ." She read further down and flinched. "Five lengths of chain, seven feet long. Three longswords, three daggers, twelve horseshoes." She slowed for a moment, swallowed, continued on, determined no to seem shaken. It was clear to anyone with ears that this list in particular was to be used to outfit a slaving party.

At last she reached the end, folded up the paper and let it lay on the nearest flat surface she could find. "That's all that's on the list." Kit said, and she was careful to keep her voice neutral.

[Adrian]

With hammer and chisel he shaped the hot metal, contorting both sides of the rod to taper at an angle, the ringing filling up the small blacksmith's shop as each hit sent a shower of sparks to briefly illuminate the grimy features of the smith. Almost as soon as he started though, with only a handful of hits to the hot metal, he shoved the end of the rod back into the heart of the forge, gripping the tongs tightly through thick leather gloves. The metal wasn't quite due for a reheating, but he needed to hear the girls message, and the ringing of his hammer would make that next to impossible in this small shop.

So with his hands busied, he craned to look once more at her, or at least try to for his sweat was coming into his eyes making him blink an awful lot and he was in no position to give his eyes deprive from the salt bath. The heat of the forge always had him sweating profusely, though usually he had a helper in the shop who'd mop his brow when his hands were full. Only right now that helper was delivering his latest finished consignment, a set of horseshoes for one of his masters new purchases. The sweat left almost clean wandering lines through the soot that stained his broad features.

At the list he shrugged, it was nothing more than the usual odds and ends he was tasked to carry out, though had he more courage, he'd have a few words to share with the sender about this insistence on weapon smithing. It was a skill he had little talent for and indeed little knowhow, a thing he had made known to his master, but for all that, he'd yet to receive the proper training for it. There was little use in complaining of such though, especially to this girl he did not know, and he'd simply have to keeps such thoughts to himself until he saw his master this afternoon. The messenger warranted a more proper response.

"My thanks for your help, if you would be so kind as to send word back to the Estate that I have indeed received their list, I'm sure my master would be happy to reward you amply." He said with a put on smile before turning back to the forge, and the rod that wanted working on. Work could not wait with so much to do after all..

[The End]