by Jilitse on August 19th, 2010, 3:13 am
With Rhuryc's permission, Jilitse set about on her own task, lining up a few iron bars that she chose herself. She disdainfully picked up one after another, and managed to choose eight pieces that are nearly of equal lengths. Taking one in a clamp, she held it against the fire. The Nuit was accustomed to doing everything by herself from step one, and even without the presence of golems to aid her, she believed she could manage on her own. She waited for the iron bar to turn red, and then twisted it to its side and turned it over in specific intervals to get the flame to spread evenly. Once it got orangy-yellow she took the iron bar out of the fire and set to start pounding. Her smites were cling! to Rhuryc's clang!, as the undead worked with a different and slower pace, and did not possess the same strength as Rhuryc. What she lacked in power she made up with accuracy of blows. Her light swings and strikes were rhythmical, cling! cling! cling!, a lovely accompaniment to the claang, claang, claang.
Jil was murmuring intelligible words as she worked, and there was once she hummed a very old tune, a lullabye, in the ancient tongue. The nuit worked sluggishly but tirelessly, working with one iron bar after another. When she became more comfortable with the pace she was running, she decided to take two iron bars at a time, forging and smithing one while leaving the other to sit in the fire as Rhuryc had placed his bars in the ledge near the flame. She worked almost methodologically, as if the number of strikes had been calculated, the direction of the pounding estimated, the procedure memorized and carried out mechanically, the time spent on stepping from one place to another estimated.
Not to say that she got better immediately, though. The Nuit was new at making horseshoes, and was totally incompetent in punching the holes. She couldn't seem to match up the holes properly, but she did try her best not to punch beyond the mark she intended to puncture.
She was placing her sixth horseshoe on the cooling shelf when Rhuryc talked to her, which she replied to immediately, "Oh, yes I stay here in the City. The Knights are skeptic, of course, but I seem to have enough reputation behind me for them to consider me as non-threatening. Not everybody share the idea of course."
The Nuit seem to have worked herself out, was it even possible for undead to get tired? "This body has taken its share of work today," not having golems exhausted Jilitse, and she took care not to overwork her fragile, it was almost time to replace her vessel, too. "So this is how humans work, labor without for automation. It does have a few setbacks," especially to Nuits, of course. "It is a pleasure to have worked with you, Rhuryc. I did not expect that you will impart the knowledge to me." Perhaps making a horseshoe was no trade secret to humans? She said goodbye, but did not make any move to leave. The Nuit intended to watch Rhuryc until he gets off work.
I. Vox Populi, Vox DeiII. The Night the Watchtowers CriedI am nothing special, of this I am sure. I am a common woman with common thoughts and I've led a common life. There are no monuments dedicated to me and my name will soon be forgotten, but I've loved another with all my heart and soul, and to me, this has always been enough.