[Kitrean Krafts] Isurian Dreams [Ironfists]

[Hadrian]

35th Winter, 510 A.V. Hadrian tried to keep a low profile here, merely moving from display to display, marveling at the Isurian craftsmanship. He knew a bit about blacksmithing thanks to Marcus Braeden and Eanos, who was an Isur of some repute in Syliras, but he could not fathom how to get from his meager skill to this sort of brilliance, which upset him. Eventually he was going to have to get his crafting skills on a par with his enchanting or else he would never be a real magecrafter, at least in his own critical eyes. The least thing in this place was beyond his skill. If only he could gain access to Sultros and seek training there, both as a craftsman and as a magecrafter. He was sure he could improve wildly there. Alas, he was rather sure humans weren't welcome there. If ever great Izurdin granted him His gnosis, though, Hadrian would proudly display it at Sultros' gates and demand entrance. That might even work. He sighed and looked at a particularly well-crafted knife, one that might work wonders in magical rituals. It was simple, but he didn't need flash. "Hm..."

[Maliken]

"Don't stare at it girl. You know what it is. You know what it's going to do to you. Don't stare at it. Don't... don't look, Maliken." Staring, just what she told herself not to. It was painful for Maliken to be here. The Kitrean Krafts, so many amazing works of art. It was bittersweet for her to see these. She loved them because of what they stood for, who's hands had touched them, whose sweat was imbued in their making. She hated them for the same reason. Isur, she loved them because they were her family, her race, and she hated it because she was no longer confident in calling herself by that word any more. Maliken lifted her arm, grabbing at the phantom feeling left behind from her missing left arm. Grabbing nothing but the loose cloth of her robe. She sighed as she stared at the blade. There was no desire to purchase the item, but it was just so beautiful, even imbued. Maliken could not only sense the Izentor flowing within the blade, but she saw it. Fragile auras, a calming blue hue reaching, calling to her. It was an interesting dance of shape. The edge of the blade seemed to extend, the sight she dove into only made the point look more deadly that it did without the use of Auristics. Maliken saw a shimmer in the corner of her eye, a cloud of yellow, that's how she read it, that was the only way she could really describe it, since she didn't know how to analyze such an appearance. Maliken shook her head, he long black hair, which was easily reaching down to her butt. There was a lone piece of cloth that was tied behind her head, making it into one long-ass (no pun intended) ponytail. She allowed the Auristics to fade in order to fully take in whoever had approached her. A tall man, obviously not an Isur (but he still had two arms), walked over. He was not there to speak with her though. Thank the Gods, he didn't even seem to notice her. No, he was coming to look at the blade that she, only moments before, had also been examining. She took a few steps to the side to allow him more space, yet she didn't move. She couldn't take her eyes off the weapon, besides, she was waiting for Malanos. He said he'd be here. Maliken wasn't sure if that meant he was working, or just visiting. Regardless, she wanted to see her cousin.

[Malanos]

Yesterday had been interesting to say the least. He had been wishing to see his beloved cousin for a long while, but to see her like this broke him. Maliken had grown up following the laws of the Isur in the strictest sense. She took great pride in her ability to create perfection, and the fact that she was by the fact of being Isur perfect. Divine blood flowed in her veins, and this very blood agonized over the imperfections of her mutilated body. Her pain of mind took every ounce of joy Malanos could muster, he could not let her live this way. If there was even a chance of a cure for her, he would travel to every region of Mizahar to find it. Yesterday he had told her to come to him, he had told her to find the Kitrean Krafts. He would be there, he worked in return for room and board. He didn't get much, but something is better than nothing, and Malanos needed that little something. The work wasn't too hard, maybe for someone less fit then himself, but Malanos was a perfect specimen of a good Isur physique. Much of his work consisted of of shoveling coal into the great furnace that melted the lumps of metal for his employer to shape. He looked up from the coal that he was shoveling and realized that nobody was manning the counters, so he rushed out to find two people in the lobby. One was his cousin, the other a lanky human. He ignored the human for a moment and rushed to embrace his cousin, the soot and grime forgotten in his happiness in seeing her. "I am glad that you found the location cousin. Come we must talk."

[Navir]

Navir held the half finished dagger in the heart of the fire patiently waiting until the metal was glowing a cherry red signifying that it was at the right temperature to begin molding the metal to his will again. A small smile was present on his face as he waited though, the familiar heat of Pulling the metal out of the coals he pressed it back on the anvil and gave a few hard but careful strikes on the metal, forcing the metal to form itself into the blade of a dagger. He pulled his attention away from his work however when Malanos rushed away from his job and into the store. "What in izurdins name is he doing?" Looking down at his nearly finished dagger and then back at the door. Dropping his tools and leaving the dagger on his anvil for a moment he followed his cousin. As soon as he left the heat of the smithy and entered the shop he hadrian the man that he met at the pond only a few days ago, but most of his attention was centered on his cousin that was hugging a one armed isur. "Malanos," He called towards his cousin to get his attention. "Who is that? and why are you away from your job, you do know it takes a long time to warm the fire again if it goes out right." he crossed his arms and looked at his cousin with a stern gaze, almost demanding an answer.

[Hadrian]

The family reunion intruded upon Hadrian's awareness, and he moved aside to make room for the embracing Isur, knowing that most of them weren't overly fond of his kind. When they seemed rooted there, he cast a last, almost longing glance at the knife, and moved away to look at something else. One more thing that was beyond his ability to create as yet. He didn't even see Navir come in, nor really register his voice. The assumption that his presence was not required led him off into another corner of the shop, his attention occupied on the wares presented.

[Maliken]

Maliken was surprised to find Malanos embracing her so warmly again. He had done this the first time he saw her in Alvadas, and even now that he knew she was alive and almost-well, he still felt strongly towards her. It was comforting to know that someone hadn't completely abandoned her for what she had become. "Hmm, Malanos. You smell like a furnace." Maliken gave a short, brief smile, which extinguished moments later. She did, however, take a long moment to stand there, smelling that coal smeared body, the warmth of the smithing furnace was still radiating off of him. Smithing was something she missed, but now being one-armed, she found such a task difficult to attempt. She needed an assistant, perhaps someone that wasn't too easily distracted, obeyed orders well, would never think to abandon her. She thought of a kelvic, hearing stories that they were somewhat bound by nature to follow their masters. She didn't know how such a relationship was ignited though, social situations weren't her strong suit. When Malanos finally released Maliken, she backed up a pace or two. Her robe was now smeared with coal here and there, but because it was in fact embroidered with the hammer of Izurdin, she found it only fitting to be there. "My hands..." Whatever Maliken was about to say, she stopped, feeling sick at the slip of tongue, or perhaps the momentary forget of her situation. "I've been dying to work on Magecrafting again. Malanos, I've got... and idea. I don't know if it will work, but I've got to do something. I can't stay like this anymore." Maliken's hand rested on her left shoulder underneath that large flowing robe sleeve. If someone was looking at Maliken, they'd never notice she had no left arm, not until she squeezed the phantom limb's location that is. "The things I need to learn though, I'm not sure it can be found here. Alvadas makes me uneasy, all these strange images that plague me here. How long do you plan to stay?" Maliken glanced behind the counter as another, somewhat familiar face, appeared. Navir, recognized immediately as he called out to Malanos, their mutual cousin. Maliken remembered always teasing him, even though they were rarely around each other. As children, younger than she was now, she would harass him just for the sake of having fun. "Quiet you cold-hearted blockhead. Malanos is busy." Even though she was joking, she didn't smile, making the words feel a bit more harsh and seriously cruel towards Navir. Perhaps he would recall memories and recognize her then. "By Izurdin Malanos, I haven't seen you in years, and your sister even longer. Is she still in Sultros?"

[Istril]

OOCSorry this was so short! My power died in the middle of the post, so I lost it all, which drained all will to post, but I knew I still had to get something down, because you've all been waiting forevar, so... :/

From her perch, Istril watched everything that went on throughout the shop with her curious glance. her eyes watched her sibling, her cousins, but they always seemed to find their way back to the curious human. There were so many of them in this city. It truly was a city of humans, and to a woman who had hardly seen them in her life, they were... bizarre. They were like her, she supposed, but taller. They were less blue, and their arms! They were not chosen by Izurdin like they were. Of course, she hadn't expected them to be, but it was just so odd, to see a person with two separate, skin-covered arms. So, it was with a fascinated gaze that she watched the human that lurked through the shop, hovering over one piece for a particularly long time. It was only when he shifted to the next piece that she revealed herself.

"Why do you drift away from the knife?" Istril asked curiously, cocking her head at the human. Her voice was cold, calculating, inquisitive. Silently, she pushed herself up off of the wall she was leaned against, approaching him with measured strides. It was almost laughable, seeing a woman that barely measured in at four feet, nine inches approaching you. She was no larger than a child. Without even glancing at it, she plucked the knife from the rack, carrying it along with her, removing it from its scabbard. "I am Istril Ironfist. Names are important for dealings. Tell me, human, what is yours?" As she said this, she motioned for him to follow her, leading him to the wooden counter top. "This blade, it has been... touched by Isur hands, shaped, crafted," she spoke slowly, searching for each and every word, looking up at him to see if he was following her. "Watch," she then demanded. With that, she pressed the flat side of the blade against the counter, pinning it there with her gem-like hand. Then, she started to push down on the handle with her other hand. What would break a normal knife, this one sustained, survived. As she displayed this strength, she was working on something entirely different, the next part of her display, if one wished to give it a name.

Res slowly leaked from the pores of her skin, mixing with the thin layer of sweat that covered her body. Slowly but surely, it began to build up, until a respectable amount had become hers to bend. "See?" she stated matter-of-factly. She turned to him, lifting the knife from the table for him to observe. As she did so, she rotated her body ever so slightly, so that she blocked his view of the counter behind her. It was at that point that she changed the Res. A little wiggle of her fingers lifted it slightly from the skin of her face, and an intense force of will, and intense focus, and intense thought shifted it into a thin gas, one that she slowly guided behind her with slow, but dexterous, movements of her hands. It was at that point that things got difficult. Shaping Res without looking at it was hard for her, but she did he best. She pictured the Res, the table in her minds eye, guiding the former until it rested in a ball just above the table. Silently, closing her eyes, she compacted the ball, pushing it together, shaping it, until it was a sphere-like lump of Res. It was at that point that she converted it. Another penetrating thought, another whole-hearted urging crafted the Res into the element she desired, Earth. A quiet thud could be heard from behind her as the rock collided with the table.

"Come, now, let me show you more," she said, taking the knife from his hands. She clutched the knife in her left hand, taking up the rock in her right. "See this?" she asked curiously. "Watch as it runs across the edge." With that, she demonstrated, pushing the Res-borne rock against the blade, running it up and down the length of the blade. She repeated the motion over and over for at least a full minute, at which point she set the stone back down on the counter and handed the knife back over to him. "See? No duller. Isurian craftsmanship is beyond compare. This knife will never fail you. Never. It is a good purchase." Her tone was cold. "The edge will never dull, the tool will never break. You can trust it with your life." She looked over her shoulder, at the three Isur by the entrance. "Now, excuse me, I must speak to my kin," she said simply, and with that, she was making her way over to them.

"No, no, she is here," she said simply to the question she caught a bit of as she approached. Back in her native tongue, she became a bit more conversational. That, of course, was not saying much. "Greetings, Maliken. I am pleased to see your journey was safe as well," a small nod was all she spared Maliken, aside from the greeting. "All three of you are out here, and you all ignore the customer. I aided him, though. He seems decent enough. Humans are odd, though. All of them. Even less balanced than those not yet made Weights."

[Puzzle]

Thread Complete! "What a well made thread we have here." I can't deny, I had a strange time with this thread. The whole 'family reunion' component was quite touching. Family is something of a rarity in roleplay (though Mizahar does seem to be the exception to this), and it is good to see when families come together. The oddity came from mainly the fact that I was unaware that there were so many PCs working at Kitrean Krafts. I will admit, I was not an AS at the time of the thread's creation (or even its last post), but I have no record of Malanos being a member of Kitrean Krafts. I assume Istril was just in the area and was trying to 'sell' Hadrian on a dagger (making it a very cute, unexpected scene) but if she does work there too, please notify me (and for that matter, I also ask that if you could Malanos, please present me with the thread where you joined Kitrean Krafts (if none exists, I ask you make a join thread so that it can be official)). All in all, A lovely day in the life thread that has me interested in the lives of these new characters. I am very eager of reading their continuing adventures. Hadrian   Skills   Lore Isurian Forcefulness Isurian Craftsmanship   Ledger   Reward Maliken   Skills   Lore   Ledger [/i]   Reward Malanos   Skills Blacksmithing 2   Lore   Ledger [/i]   Reward Navir   Skills Weaponsmithing 1   Lore   Ledger   Reward Istril   Skills Persuasion 2 Reimancy 1   Lore   Ledger   Reward