A Meeting Overdue (Osd)

[Thomas Cosa]

"Would you rather I call you slave then?" Thomas paused, his voice dropping to an almost whisper. That was all he could do, and perhaps Osd knew. "Or the idiot who managed to get himself locked up?"

It annoyed the pulser mage to know end, knowing his words were the only thing he could really do to hurt the slave. Perhaps the only weapon he would willingly use -- after all, all Osd had called him out for what he was. An idiot.

Still, he was a wizard. And wouldn't suffer any treatment below his station.

He motioned towards the golem to lead him out. Without saying another word.

[Osd]

Osd burst out laughing at the man's words .After he was done he gave the man a smile. "I never said I was a slave, now did I?" He simply stated before the wizard had even turned around. Ignoring the remark about him being an idiot. He had been slightly idiotic by letting those thugs get the drop on him in the evening. A mistake he still regrets But he wasn't going to let that man know about it. "I guess assuming and talking to somebody as if he is a slave, that thought based just on assumptions you made and not bothering to check that does fall under the definition of idiocy now doesn't it?" Okay he was taking a bit of pleasure in seeing a wizard of sahova dig himself deeper. But it wasn't as if the stunt he pulled wasn't stupid. He didn't stop with his work, or slow down after he dropped that little bit of information on the man.

[Thomas Cosa]

"It wasn't an assumption, liar," Thomas sneered in quick retort, turning tightly on his heels. A heavy emphasis was placed on the ending words, his whispered voice shifting to a low hiss; as threatening as the animator could ever hope to be, at present.

Still, Thomas would be the first to admit, if not aloud, that his understanding of the aura was far from competent -- he struggled with the rainbow of emotions, the constant swirling smells and sounds, the tastes and general raw touch of the aura that demanded almost instant interpretation; humans were, after all, complicated beings. The most ancient of the races, if the mythology was to be believed -- wouldn't there auras be just as complex? And this slave, or not slave, Osd, wouldn't his be the same?

It was very possible that pulser had missed something. Magic, even. But he knew there wasn't enough magic in the slave's essence for him to be ever confused for someone...

"Unless..."

"Who do you apprentice for, then? Or if you are a wizard, of what discipline?" Thomas asked, his tone a pitch higher than before. He desperately tried to wipe his face of any trace of worry, or worse panic, realizing that it really didn't matter who Od was -- but that it matter very much who the slave, or not slave knew. Connections was the game in Sahova, and one Thomas was only beginning to learn.

His head throbbed unpleasantly as he forced his magic again from himself, the tickling bubbling of Djed seeping out from his core, wrapping Osd in a shimmering golden veil -- his aura. Thomas wouldn't miss anything this time.

[Osd]

Osd let out an annoyed sigh as the man tried to get in the last word. "Again with the assumptions there." osd said in annoyed tone, really, what would a slave gain by lying about the fact he wasn't a slave? He used a pair of tongs to take out the pot filled with molten steel and carefully filled the molds to the brim, he spilled a bit as he tried to fill them all, but he had made sure he had a bit of extra metal so he wouldn't run out in the middle of filling the molds. "Why the petch would I even lie? if I was a slave, getting the last word in a conversation with a wizard wouldn't be worth lying about the facts." The fact the man didn't grasp that did made osd wonder how he managed to climb up to the wizard rank. That was as easy as putting two and two together. At least to the sunberther it was. "My master is Goron silverheart, I'm studying the art of magecrafting under him. Which is the reason why I'm working in the forge. Goron silverheart insists that I'm able to create my works from just unworked iron bars to a magical tool." Osd put the pot back in the forge and began taking out more iron bars, filling the pot again.

[Thomas Cosa]

Thomas frowned, his eyes flickering as he struggled to maintain focus on the blacksmith. Nothing. Greased annoyance clung darkly to Osd's aura, but his exasperated sigh was obvious enough to signal his feelings without the use of magic; but there was no magic. No electric pricks down his spine, no scent of iron and blood pushing against his nostrils, his tongue. Neither however could the pulser mage identify anything that could be interpreted as hesitation or a lie, at least, nothing so obvious as to draw Thomas' suspicions.

"If the slave felt themselves safe and secure, I'm sure they'd risk little more than lying to get the last word in to a superior," Thomas sneered, eyelids heavy as he released the hold over his Djed. The drumming headache beat steadily against his head, and the animator could only hope it would disappear soon -- the heat in the forge, the conversation, the stupid annoying blacksmith, nothing was helping the slowly increasing pain or his temper. "And considering I bet the slaves here are treated much like those in Lab 15," another assumption, but one based on logic, "I wouldn't be suprised you had some kind of security protecting you from some of the more...local dangers of Sahova," he concluded, licking his heat dried lips. Osd had already said that he was being fed twice daily, more than the average slave -- Hai, more than he had been fed as an apprentice; so, he was valuable. And because he was valuable he was protected. And Thomas would bet an arm and a leg, he knew very well he could get away with talking like this to him, because Thomas wasn't someone all that important.

Even the Sahovan slaves knew who was a someone.

"Silverheart's your master?" Thomas asked incredulously, panic slightly coloring his tone.

His Seer's mark tensed, the Seer willfully dragging his consciousness towards the chavi -- specifically towards Osd's and Silverheart's; he would know if they were ever interconnected, and thus finally be a hundred percent certain of the blacksmith's words.

Silvery cords flittered through and around the slave, a lifetime's worth of memories and secrets. They joined randomly seemingly, although Thomas knew there was an order. Each florescent line joined the blacksmith to another living sentient, forever linking the two in the ethereal beauty that was the chavena. More and more cords swirled around the forge, but one in particular sung the loudest, calling out to Thomas, promising the answer he had sought for. Thomas clenched his god marked hand, mentally grasping the particular memory.

...
Black marks circled and swirled around his own wrist, disappearing at the command of a an isur. An overwhelming sensation of liberation filled him.

He was free.
...

Thomas gritted his teethed, "Even if you were telling the truth, why would Silverheart choose you? You were a slave. How did you attract his attentions?"

He was too close to overgiving to try magic again, and Thomas wouldn't try to access the chavi again so soon -- at least, not so publicly. He would though, later, dive specifically into Osd's past, find everything he could use against the apprentice.

[Osd]

'yep, he doesn't have a clue how a slave acts.' Osd thought to himself as he picked up the molds with his tongs and gentily lowered them down into the trog of water, the steam blowing up with a loud hiss. If a slave felt safe and secure they wouldn't want to risk that safety for anything, especially not something as petty as mere personal pride. When he mentioned a security system he nodded. “Guessed right about that. Any attempt of hostile magic on the workers here and there are golems hidden in the lava that will shred you to pieces, no questions asked.” He said in a disinterested tone as he kept his eyes on the cooling molds. Right now he just had to wait, nothing was lost by taking ones time with this part of it. Take it out to soon however, and the cast wouldn't be able to keep its form. He fished one of them out of the water giving the pouring hole of the mould a critical look. The metal was dark, not glowing or even having a hint of shine. There wasn't any steam coming from it any more as well. He let the other three molds stay in the water as he took it out and carefully opened up the mold and pulled the gear out. “Yes silverheart is my master.” He barely caught himself from following up with, are you deaf. No need to antagonize people down here, he didn't want to make enemies. When the man once again doubted him he gave him an annoyed look. “Look, I know the rest of this bloody island lies like it's second nature. But do you really anybody would be stupid enough to lie about who his master is? It's easy to find out, hell I am pretty sure you can look that up somewhere. Or just ask the archwizard when he has time. Didn' you work under him? He laid down the gear on the anvil and took out a chisel and hammer. Beginning to cut of the excess metal. “I was chosen by him because I had talents he found interesting and wanted to nurture them. That being my skill at working with metal if you hadn't figured that one out yet. Good blacksmiths are hard to find in this place.” It didn't take that long. He dropped the gear in the bin and got to work on the next mold.

[Thomas Cosa]

Thomas nodded at the mention of a security system. It made sense, considering the importance of what came out of the forges, and thus, the slaves too. It was the same in Lab 15. Almost all golems were animated in the cavern lab, and because of that, everyone working there, including the slaves, were guaranteed some level of protection -- as to what kind, Thomas could only guess. He supposed golems, but no one had ever been stupid enough to try any types of hostile magic on anyone during his time in under the duo masters, Kromby and Filch.

"And you know this because they've told you? Or..." his voice fell, the animator wondering exactly how to phrase the next question. Despite everything before, Osd seemed to be becoming pleasantly easy to talk to -- at least compared to how he first introduced himself. Not that Thomas would forget his attitude, but he was here, and better he at least pretend to ignore the apprentice's little offense in return for the answers of some questions. And considering his master was Silverheart, the chief magecrafter, it wouldn't hurt to at least try to fall on his good side. "Or were you personally attacked?"

Thomas sighed heavily, a small smile making its way along it's lips. "Sahova's different from the rest of the world, Osd," he began, his tone irritably condescending. The pulser may not know how a slave would feel, but he had a basic understanding of Sahova, "And you'd be surprised how easily you can hide anything here, even something as basic as someone's master -- even with the rings," he raised his hand, pointedly showing off his own; a golden M lined his finger, marking him as owned, more or less, by Mashaen. "And furthermore, you'd be surprised at how much of a target your master could make you."

"I'll be taking my leave now, Osd. I can't spend all days in the forges," Thomas began, excusing himself. It was getting late, "But you should be careful of whatever someone offers you here. Trust me," he paused, biting his lip. He wanted this to come off perfectly -- like he cared, like his advice was given honestly. "I can guarantee you one thing, though. Silverheart picked you for more than your blacksmithing ability. And the moment you figure out what, you'll put yourself in a much better position. Secrets are power here, and the more you know, the safer you'll be."

[Osd]

Osd didn't miss a beat as that question was asked. "Saw it, more then once, had to be saved by them from an uppity wizard once myself ass well. Either way end results are never pretty. At least the lava lake is good for disposing what's left of it.” He said in a simple matter of fact tone. He came from sunberth, the very act of murder or seeing a body had lost it's shock around when he was old enough to go out and play with the other kids. Add in another few years of sahovian slavery and talking about the act of murder might just as well be talking about taking a piss. Unsavory but nothing out of the ordinary. Do it in the right places and it wasn't that hard to clean up either. At the advice osd just gave him a nod. “I'll be sure to keep my eyes peeled for that.” Silverheart had already told him that exact same advice anyway. He was already pretty sure that him being good at forging wasn't the only reason he was picked. He had been here for six years. If he had been so talented then why hadn't the isur picked him out earlier? Either way he was going to make sure he learned as much as he could to try and make himself indispensable here. Or find a way out of this place. “Sure ;go, we both have things to do.”

oocSorry for the late reply, thought your post would beent he last ^^; oops.

[Shai]

However hopeless the situation appears to be There yet always exists the possibility of putting up a stubborn resistance Thomas : Auristics 3 Observation 3 Politics 1 Subterfuge 1 Auristics: Detecting Annoyance Secrets Are Power in Sahova Osd: The Blacksmith-Apprentice Osd : It appears your are inactive. If you return please send me a PM and I will add in your grade here. Check : If there are any concerns with my grading please feel free to toss me a PM. I am more than happy to explain my reasons or reevaluate them if you feel I've been unfair.