Location [Syliras Location] The Ironworks

[Dusk]

Seasonal XP Award! Spring 510 AV Eanos XP Award: Weaponsmithing: 2 XP, Auristics: 2 XP Lore Award: Syliras Ironworks (Basic) Additional Note Keep up the good work!

[Mankros]

Fall 510 AV
As Mankros entered the ironworks he immediately felt a wave of heat wash over him, accompanied by the smell of red-hot metal and flaming coals. The entire place was bathed in a deep orange glow, and the sound of many hammers ringing on pliable metal, along with the scraping of blades on grindstones, filled the air with a symphony only truly appreciated by those who could see the love and care pounded into each work of art formed under this roof.
Mankros approached the Isur he assumed owned the ironworks, extending his hand in greeting.

[Leviathan]

Mankros Mankros entered the Ironworks of Syliras. As the blood of pure Isur ran through his veins, the waves of heat, the cacophony of metal on metal, steel on steel, the shouting of men talking about nothing but their work, all sounded like a glorious harmony. This was home to Mankros, or at least as close as he would get to home for countless miles. It would take only moments for Mankros to spot the sought for Ros Vizerian, and sure enough his assumptions were correct. The man, the typical five foot in height for Isur, had been busy overlooking the work of two younger human boys. They were young, fresh workers, and hardly a day's work of experience under their belt. Uncertainty was etched into their faces, but nevertheless, the Isur boss did not raise his voice, but mildly instructed them as the worked. However, there was an interruption. Ros turned around as one of the boys pointed towards Mankros, another Isur. It was rare to find them in Syliras, but that didn't make them uncommon in the Forge. Accepting the handshake with his own very firm grasp (it easily outmatched Mankros's grip) and a firm nod. "Greetings brother. Ros Vizerian at your service. What can I do for you?" He turned his head and glanced at the boys-in-training, nodding to them, giving them a break before he returned his attention to Mankros. His full attention.

[Dusk]

Seasonal XP Award! Spring 510 AV Rhuryc XP Award: Blacksmithing: 4 xp Lore Award: Syliras Ironworks (Basic) Additional Note Keep up the good work!

[Mankros]

OOC: Mankros is human, not Isur.

"My name is Mankros, and I was wondering if you could outfit me with a few weapons," he replied. "Your warhammers caught my eye, and those death's-head sticks seem exotic enough to throw most assailants out of rhythm."
"I would also like to know the local regulations for carrying a weapon in public."

[Leviathan]

OOCMy apologies. I knew that, it's just I'm in a thread with Eanos with my PC, and I'm getting you and him mixed up for some reason. I actually feel quite silly for making such a simple mistake. I'll make sure not to do it again.

"Welcome to the Ironworks Mankros. We have, as you can see, plenty of weapons in stock already, though if you are looking for something a little exotic, rare, made from uncommon material, or just having a few personal touches to anything, then you made a wise choice in speaking with me. Our Warhammers are simple, sturdy, and guaranteed to outlast any sword it's matched against. It obviously lacks finesse and won't impress anybody when you swing it, except for the man receiving the blow of course. The Death-Head stick is a bit more uncommon though, I'm surprised you know what it is, let alone have any interest in one. I could sell you one right now if that's what you want, but it requires dedication to swing properly. You won't learn it in a single night, nor likely in a dozen. As for the regulations, I would suggest you speak with the Knights themselves about their rules. I believe I have a firm grasp on them, but I will not risk misleading a newcomer in Syliras." "Have you made your choice?"

[Mankros]

"I believe I have," he replied. "Would it be possible to replace the spiked skull on a death-head stick with a small flanged mace head?"



Flanged mace head.

[Leviathan]

OOCYou are new, so you probably aren't aware of this, but Mizahar has a strict 'No One-liner' Policy. Try to keep all posts at least three or four sentences in length. It shouldn't be a problem as long as you repair this in the future.

Ros lightly stroked his clean shaven chin as he pondered the request, or perhaps the possible story behind it. It was an odd weapon, an odd choice, and had no other uses but to look hideously scary, and to kill. It was obvious that Mankros intended to use it, or at least appear like he did. Ros wasn't one to question other people's motives though. He had work to do, always had work to do thanks to the busy city of Syliras, and its Knights. He nodded after a while and held up two fingers. "It'll cost two additional gold-rimmed miza on the standard price, and I can personally see that it is finished by this afternoon. Are you asking for any alternate material or is it good with what it has?" It was doubtful anyone would pay extra for stronger material, as it was doubtful the weapon would break anyway. Then again, it was an odd request to begin with.

[Mankros]

Mankros pondered the Isur's question. He knew a very few other materials, but he cold recall none of them at the moment. To avoid embarrassment, he replied, "No, thank you. I would, however like ten throwing daggers and three shuriken."


Things Purchased: One death-head stick, custom head-12 GM; 10 throwing daggers-10 GM; three shuriken-3 GM Total-30GM

[Ash'eny]

48th of Fall The Ironworks, a place that Ash'eny rarely visited, and had never purchased from. Today was different. Ash'eny was changed, there was something different in this man that he could explain, but couldn't. Something he understood well, yet still couldn't comprehend. He felt violent, careless, inadequate, and exhausted. He felt that he hated life, hated himself, yet still clung to that ever strong sense of survival that humans tended to have. He could never kill himself because he was a coward, or at least that's how it used to be, but now he wouldn't kill himself because he simply didn't want to, when there were so many other ways to die. Best of all, these other ways would be much more exhilarating. Ash'eny didn't stay long, only enough to purchase a weapon, the first thing that stood out to him, that said 'Yes, I am a killing machine and your victim will never be recognized after I'm through with them'. The Cold Iron Heavy Mace they called it. Ash'eny left the store, thirty-six gold miza coins lighter, and a brand new weapon and strong smile heavier. There was no doubt that he looked mismatched for the weapon, but he was feeling a little better already. Secret : -36 GM: Purchase of Heavy Mace: Cold Iron