As the Isur lost himself in his work, Madeira simply watched him. He handled the metal confidently, never shying away from the molten metal even as it sparked and hissed at him. She could see the ripple of jarring contact as his stone fist ground into the cloudy metal, and the way the thick muscles coiled and released around the bones beneath. Sweat collected along his messy hairline, and ran in beads in the ravin between his shoulders. He was healthy and strong in a way that Madeira completely lacked. And suddenly she was embarrassed of her boney hands, and how they sat on her lap like frail white spiders. Her skin was soft and untouched, scented with lemon skin cream and more suited to sitting still on padded chairs than doing any sort of physical labour. If he were made of metal, she would be made of glass.
Eventually he turned back to her, and spoke of ghosts. Apparently the Isur had legends of master smiths returning after death to finish projects before they passed on. She couldn't help but smile at that. How very like those stubborn Isur, eschewing something as trivial as death to finish their craft.
"True, tools are never evil." she nodded after his tangent about magics, and how misunderstood they could be. "But if a man picks up a sword, do you expect him to do anything else but kill with it? Magic users are rarely peaceful people, you must have noticed. It attracts a certain breed, a kind that wants power. Even if it is power over the
elements, and not people. Or-" she motioned to herself "power over dead people. Magic isn't inherently bad", she met his sad smile with a bitter one of her own, "but people have ever reason to be wary of those who practise."
Terag turned back to his work, and now his movements changed. His hands turned delicate as he scratched lines into the metal. The hits of his hammer became more calculating as he began to shape the metal in earnest. When he was satisfied with the shape, he threw the completed nail in a tub of tepid water, which crackled and belched a
pocket of steam.
He offered that in a couple chimes she inspect the work, and let him know of any changes she wanted.
"Oh! Yes, yes, of course." She got up off the chair, feeling the wetness down her back from the oppressive heat, and began rolling up her long sleeve. Though the heat of the forge was trapped under her long skirt and choking her in her modest neckline, she refused to loosen her bodice or open her collar. But rolling up her sleeve and exposing the flesh to even the smallest movement in the air was a relief.
She waited several chimes, as instructed, then dipped her hand into the shallow basin. The water was warm and almost oily, and the overwhelming smell of metal that lifted from it burned in the back of her throat. She found the nail and lifted it out, shaking excess water from the surface. The thing was ten centimetres long and quite thick. It sat reassuringly heavy in her hand. Surely an unruly ghost would have endless trouble trying to dislodge something as sturdily built as this.
"It's perfect", Madeira praised the blacksmith, her cracked lips curling into a smile. "This is exactly what I need. If you can make eight more of these, I'll have a full set." She placed the finished nail on the small table beside her chair, and after deliberating for a moment, she stepped closer to the Isur. Her voice dropped in pitch but didn't lose any of her delight. "If you would consider making me a tenth nail with your Reimancy, of whatever material you choose, I’ll throw in a couple more gold." She tried to persuade him with money and a smile, which she found tended to be a winning combination. “I'm interested in your art, and how it might affect mine. Arn't you?"
She retreated back to her chair, and continued with her voice low under the crashing of the hammers from the other smiths. "I remember you mentioned Magecrafting and Glyphing earlier. I'm familiar with Glyphing- my family will be teaching it to me once my Spiritism improves. But I don't know much about Magecrafting. Is it similar to Malediction? Did your father teach you?"
Note*franticly googles imperial system*
I want 2lbs, I think, which would make it 1gm for the lot. Plus a bonus if Terag agrees to make something with Reimancy.
Eventually he turned back to her, and spoke of ghosts. Apparently the Isur had legends of master smiths returning after death to finish projects before they passed on. She couldn't help but smile at that. How very like those stubborn Isur, eschewing something as trivial as death to finish their craft.
"True, tools are never evil." she nodded after his tangent about magics, and how misunderstood they could be. "But if a man picks up a sword, do you expect him to do anything else but kill with it? Magic users are rarely peaceful people, you must have noticed. It attracts a certain breed, a kind that wants power. Even if it is power over the
elements, and not people. Or-" she motioned to herself "power over dead people. Magic isn't inherently bad", she met his sad smile with a bitter one of her own, "but people have ever reason to be wary of those who practise."
Terag turned back to his work, and now his movements changed. His hands turned delicate as he scratched lines into the metal. The hits of his hammer became more calculating as he began to shape the metal in earnest. When he was satisfied with the shape, he threw the completed nail in a tub of tepid water, which crackled and belched a
pocket of steam.
He offered that in a couple chimes she inspect the work, and let him know of any changes she wanted.
"Oh! Yes, yes, of course." She got up off the chair, feeling the wetness down her back from the oppressive heat, and began rolling up her long sleeve. Though the heat of the forge was trapped under her long skirt and choking her in her modest neckline, she refused to loosen her bodice or open her collar. But rolling up her sleeve and exposing the flesh to even the smallest movement in the air was a relief.
She waited several chimes, as instructed, then dipped her hand into the shallow basin. The water was warm and almost oily, and the overwhelming smell of metal that lifted from it burned in the back of her throat. She found the nail and lifted it out, shaking excess water from the surface. The thing was ten centimetres long and quite thick. It sat reassuringly heavy in her hand. Surely an unruly ghost would have endless trouble trying to dislodge something as sturdily built as this.
"It's perfect", Madeira praised the blacksmith, her cracked lips curling into a smile. "This is exactly what I need. If you can make eight more of these, I'll have a full set." She placed the finished nail on the small table beside her chair, and after deliberating for a moment, she stepped closer to the Isur. Her voice dropped in pitch but didn't lose any of her delight. "If you would consider making me a tenth nail with your Reimancy, of whatever material you choose, I’ll throw in a couple more gold." She tried to persuade him with money and a smile, which she found tended to be a winning combination. “I'm interested in your art, and how it might affect mine. Arn't you?"
She retreated back to her chair, and continued with her voice low under the crashing of the hammers from the other smiths. "I remember you mentioned Magecrafting and Glyphing earlier. I'm familiar with Glyphing- my family will be teaching it to me once my Spiritism improves. But I don't know much about Magecrafting. Is it similar to Malediction? Did your father teach you?"
Note*franticly googles imperial system*
I want 2lbs, I think, which would make it 1gm for the lot. Plus a bonus if Terag agrees to make something with Reimancy.
