Closed Blood and Steel (Cyrene)

[Yisanareysin]

23rd of Winter, 515AV

Rey raced down a dark alleyway, his heart pounding in his chest, his mouth dry. Nearly slipping in the rain, he skidded around a corner, desperately ignoring the burning pain in his legs and side. Behind him, he could hear snarls, and the sound of paws thumping on cobblestone.

A fork in the path, oh hai oh hai. No time to think. Choosing at random, Rey raced down the left, turned the corner, and swore viciously. A dead end. He turned to backtrack, and froze. At the alleyway's entrance stood a ghastly illusion. Half bear and half wolf, split right down the middle, fur bristly black, it watched him with with mismatched eyes, drool dripping from it's misshapen jaw.

Well, Rey was well and truly petched. Ionu preserve me.

Rey drew his flametongue, and the creature leaped at him. Pirouetting to the left, Rey managed to avoid getting tackled by the thing, but twisted in midair to scratch at him. Rey yelped, and jerked back, bringing his left arm up to protect his face. He hissed as the creature's claws scored his forearm, and lashed out with his blade, connecting with nothing but air.

The twist in midair seemed to have thrown the creature off, and it landed heavily on it's side. Rey saw his chance, and darted forwards to kill it, but the creature swatted at him with one huge paw. This time, when Rey swung his blade, it hit it's mark, opening up a gash in the illusion's paw. The creature roared in pain as black blood flowed from it's paw, disappearing before it hit the ground.

Wasting no time, Rey turned and ran, not stopping until he was back at the cave. Returning to his room, Rey hissed in frustration, studying his injuries. Luckily, the scratches were fairly shallow, but gods they stung. Grabbing from his pack an old, oversized shirt, he cut a strip from the bottom, and cleaned it in a basin of water. Awkwardly, he dabbed at the wounds, wincing, then tied the cloth over them, not wanting to bleed all over himself.

Alvadas was getting dangerous. Rey sighed, studying his father's flametongue. Once, it had been enough to protect him. Now, though....

Perhaps it would be for the best if he found himself a larger weapon. Just in case. Yes, that felt like it might help. Hai, if nothing else, a larger weapon would draw attention away from the smaller one.

That decided, Rey headed off to find the Bizarre, keeping an eye out for any angry illusory animals coming for him. But Alvadas, it seemed, had other plans, and Rey soon found himself standing before a huge building. He didn't recognise the building, but the name on the sign, Kitrean Krafts... Yes, he'd heard of this place. A forge, wasn't it?

Perfect. Rey walked in, a slight smile on his face. It seemed Ionu had taken pity on him after all.

Snake Tongue : Common : Arumenic

[Cyrene Everwind]

Description "Cyrene" Thoughts Isur Tukant Others

Within the walls of the Kitrean krafts, Quinlain had been pounding steadily on a billet of metal for the last half an hour. Each fold each individual hammer blow giving away another sound another ring in the complex melody of the steels call. Her hammer sending out a ringing tune through the forge. She was the only one within the walls this day.

The owner had been off to take care of securing materials from the docks. And she was left alone. Which suited her perfectly as the ringing of the steel was the only thing pulling her attention. The roar of the flames next to her burned urging to be fed, crying out for nourishment. She tossed another few lumps of coal into the flames before turning back to the ever solder growing steel. Sweat dripped from her brow and soaked her clothes. Still she kept a steady rhythm. Slipping the steel back into the flames allowing the fire to do its work. In the distance she heard the door go. “Great now what.” She grumbled under her breath in isurian.

She stomped over to the counter top not intentionally but with the denseness of her form and the weight behind her firm steps she glanced up at the boy? Girl? Who had just entered the forge. Blowing a smoke laced breath from her nostrils she leered at him. Her? She was having a difficult time telling.

Giving a gruff look and standing shorter than the customer before her which wasn’t uncommon at least during the hours of day light. She pressed her fingers lightly into her eyes to alleviate the blinding rings of the bright fire flickering in her eyes. And with a slight motion of her finger tips wiped the sweat from her brow flicking it out into the open air.

“So. What can I help you with? But make it quick I’ve forging to do.” A weathered tone to her voice. Not quite tired but world weary. She gave the person a small flick of her wrist to stand up to the counter as she headed back into the bowled of the gorge pulling the steel free of the inferno again and began to hammer away at the now white hot metal. The shrill ring of the steel echoing out into the air as she drew out the metal lengthening the steel. Slow and steady Cy…Slow and steady.

[Yisanareysin]

Inside the building was the largest collection of weapons and armour Rey had ever seen in his life. He gaped, staring at the collection of weapons that ranged from a dagger that looked no bigger than his hand, to a huge axelike polearm. These had to be illusory. Hai, half of them were taller than he was, and looked too heavy for anyone to carry, let alone use properly.

Drawing close to the wall, Rey looked over a shelf of... somethings. They looked like metal claws, but they were attached to a bar? And a slat of metal? Rey could not for the life of him figure out how the weapon was used. Did you.. hold on to the bar? Or attach it to another weapon? Or what?

Rey was startled from his puzzlement by the stomping of feet. Turning, he found himself facing a... a... uh....

His eyes were drawn first to that gleaming red arm, more stone than flesh, at least in appearance. They soon moved on to the rest of her, pale flesh with glittering silver lines traveling over them. Were those veins? What on earth? Both shoulders bore tattoos, intricate black patterns that curved down her arms. Different patterns, but the style was the same. They seemed at first glance to be the most normal thing about her, but...

He reached for that warmth inside of him, preparing to sense her, but then she spoke, and walked away. Rey hesitated for a moment, then followed her.

Even before he reached the entrance of the forge, he could feel the heat of it. It washed over him, sinking into his bones, and he hummed in pleasure, basking in it. Gods, he hadn't been this warm since he'd left Eyktol. Pulling off his coat and stuffing it into his pack, Rey quickly outlined what he was looking for.

"Want to buy a ssword. Long, curve, usse for-" he mimed slashing at a pretend enemy. "Like ssailorss have, yes?"

No sooner had he finished talking than she pulled from the... firey thing a bar of metal, and began to hit at it with a hammer. As sparks flew, Rey edged behind the woman, not wanting to get hit with a spark, but still wanting to stay right where the temperature was perfect.

As she hammered, Rey seized his chance, and sensed her. Taking in a deep breath of heated air, he took a moment to savour it, and then exhaled. With the next breath came understanding, wonderful and perfect.

He focused first on her tattoos. Black on pale, almost blue skin, yes, he could see that. The one on her left shoulder seemed normal enough, but the right one.. there was a tint of something in her scent, a shimmer on her aura. A Mark. Not Ionu's, he could see that, and not Siku's either. Some other Goddess, then.

Was the rest of her a result of that mark? Her arm.. The red one smelled almost nothing like flesh. If he hadn't known her tattoo was a mark, he'd have wondered how anyone could poke a needle in that arm, let alone tattoo it. He studied it, considering what his sense was telling him. Dense, denser than muscle could ever be, almost like metal or stone. But it moved. It was alive. His nose twitched, and he closed his eyes to focus even more. There was just a hint of something else there. The same something else as the Mark. But it was the same with his own kind, that slight hint of Siku on even unmarked Dhani. Or it could just be that Mark, confusing his sense. No way to tell.

Releasing his sense, Rey spoke up over the ring of her hammering. "Why arm iss red?"

OOCRey's gonna be a cutlass wielding pirate XD. Hope you're ok that I change the weapon Rey'd gonna ask for? I can change it back if you want.

Snake Tongue : Common : Arumenic

[Cyrene Everwind]

Description "Cyrene" Thoughts Isur Tukant Others

Each pulsing ring of the steel being struck sent a single note of the melody of the forge into the air. A slow pattern that only smiths who’d been forging for a long time would even begin to appreciate, let alone recognise. Eventually through the clang of steel on steel she heard the foot falls of the Boy/Girl following her through. A small hum following from the person as they entered the forge. Even with the sweltering heat of the fire it was still almost normal for her. Sweat beads rolling down her forehead and catching on the ridge just above her eyes and dripping with a small hiss onto the steel before her. An undrawn billet of steel only going to be fashioned into a display piece to be sold later but as the person spoke she heard a request for arms. She smirked a little. Even with the lips in his voice. Grumbling she turned back leaving the now yellow hot steel on the anvil. “So you wanna buy a cutlass. A simple blade aye. But unfortunately for you, we don’t appear to have any in stock.” She grumbled biting the edge of her lip slightly in thought.

“S’pose I can knock ya one out. Would cost ya a little more than usual, with it bein a rush order an all. Say bout fifteen gold mizas?” She turned back to continue hammering each successive stroke against the steel flattening it out drawing the metal to a longer form. The sparks flying off and catching against her bare midriff. Not even registering them she continued hammering before she slid the length back into the fiery inferno she flicked her eyes over to the boy/girl who’d slunk into the forge and was now just standing out of range of the sparks. Taking a leap of faith at the person’s gender she went with what she felt best fit.

“Lassie you may wanna get used to the heat if you’re going to hang about in a forge.” She shook her head a little slipping her now bare hand into the fires to pick up the white hot steel bar. Only to be met with another question. Why was her arm red? Had this person never seen an Isur before? She sighed heavily speaking between hammer blows on the steel. “It’s because I’m an Isur. Natural gift we all have. Symbol of our god and our guiding light. Mine just happens to be red.” She hammered the steel listening to the song of the metal as it rang out. The fire raging and growing hotter still. Sweat soaked clothing sticking to her shoulders with each strike against the metal.

As she kept hammering the metal she indented a small curve into the steel bending the metal and building a strong spine into the blade. Only then did she notice that s/he’d been staring at her for a little while. “Eyes off my arse lass. I’m pretty sure i’m too old for you." She grumbled and muttered under her breath in Isurian. "Petching locals."

[Yisanareysin]

"Fifteen fair." Rey said when she told him the price. If he had been in the bizarre, he'd have haggled, but somehow, he got the feeling this one wouldn't appreciate it. He wasn't going to risk getting hit with that hammer.

Curious, he watched as the woman hammered at the metal. Rey had never really been certain how metal weapons were created. She seemed to be hammering down the length of the metal, flattening it, and.. ah. With each blow the metal grew longer. Metal being pushed out, he assumed. Was this how they shaped the blade? The metal still seemed quite a lot thicker than the swords he'd seen, and could she really hammer a sharp edge onto a blade? Or was this only the first part of making the cutlass?

Rey blinked when the blacksmith spoke up. Lass? That was the female variation of lad, wasn't it? Well, he hadn't gotten that in quite a while, and this one wasn't even drunk. Although he supposed staring at a fire all day couldn't be good for one's eyes. Still, it was only a small matter, and the blacksmith's next words were far more interesting.

A natural gift from their god? Rey glanced at her hand, wrapped around a white hot metal bar in a roaring fire. It seemed sensible enough. His own shifting abilities were a gift from Siku, after all. Why shouldn't other races have the same? So, this was an Isur. He'd heard of them, but never met one before. Well, people did say that they were incredible craftsmen. Rey knew nothing of blacksmithing, but it seemed true enough. Under the Isur's hammer, the metal was curving smoothly (what was the point of that curve anyways? He'd never thought about it before), and the woman looked very intensely focused on her work.

Although apparently, not so focused that she hadn't noticed Rey using his sense. By Akajia, he was going to have to learn how to act natural while using it. He'd been caught out far too often.

"Be ssurprise." He murmured to himself, before raising his voice to a regular volume. "Not trying be rude in looking." He told her apologetically. "Iss jusst... on arm, iss mark? God mark? Of your god? Have traveled many place, sseen many god markss, but not sseen thiss kind before."

Snake Tongue : Common : Arumenic

[Cyrene Everwind]

Description "Cyrene" Thoughts Isur Tukant Others

Each hammer blow fell to point and to purpose, the back edge of the blade thickening out as she pulled out a small tool clamping the steel to the anvil she began to hammer in a small fuller along the back of the blade. Perhaps this person wasn’t too focused on much else. Each ring of her hammer fell against the steel tool into the white hot blade. She followed through with the hammer strikes listening to the song of the metal as she did. She’d hammered out the rough thickness of the balde and now she’d added the fuller she was finalising the curvature of the blade. Still s/he had agreed to her price. Fifteen gold mizas for the rush order and the blade. Perfect. Still the questions came thick and fast as she continued pounding the steel. Still her eyes even though she’d been in the forge near all her years she caught what he muttered to himself.

“Oh really lass, an how old are you then?” She smirked to herself finishing the fuller along one side of the blade before flipping it and starting on the other side. Though her/his response to her chastising them for looking was met with a glum apology. “No don’t worry about it, let’s me know I’m not losing my shape.” Looking down in her work she followed her statement up in isurian. “And lets me twist the more simple people who come here to pay a little more.” Then she heard him/her talk again. Asking about the mark on her right arm. The mark of izurdin, izentor. Every smith’s aspiration and goal. Though upon hearing them say that they’d never seen it before she half let her work sit on the anvil. And wheeled around to look at the person. Stepping over she prodded him/her hard in the chest.

“You’ve never seen the mark of the craftsman god before?” She looked a little incredulous and prodded him/her a little harder. “Unbelieveable…It’s the mark of those crafters who’re skilled at what they do. The mark of those who practice every day to be the best at their craft.” Sighing she realized something. As she thumped back over to the anvil. “Aye, and you’re fairly lacking in the chest for a female missy, i doubt you're even out of your teens yet.” She smirked and hammered in the fuller on the other side picking up the steel with tongs in her left hand and manually curving the blade with her right hand only slightly she edged it around. It was far easier to sue this method than the other which meant it might deform more in the hammering process. Picking her hammer back up, she slammed it into the tip of the blade, flattening it into a point. “So then missy, where exactly have you travelled too? I’ve done a bit of travelling myself.”

[Yisanareysin]

Older than you might expect.

Although Rey supposed he didn't really know how long these Isur lived. Dodging the question, he shrugged. "Full grown, sso old enough." Technically true. He was only two decades past adulthood.

Rey started when the Isur whirled around to jab him in the chest. Was she really that surprised to know that he hadn't seen it before? Of course, she had said that that was the god of her race, hadn't she? Rey recalled how surprised he had been that hardly anyone outside of the Nest and Ahnatep had known about Siku.

Admittedly, this deity seemed to have a larger sphere of influence than Siku did, loath as he was to admit it. A God of crafters? It would certainly explain why Rey was unfamiliar with him. He'd never had much to do with creating anything. It took skill, he was certain, but it seemed so.. tedious. Admittedly, watching the blacksmith at work, it seemed a lot more complex than he'd ever imagined.

"Travelled from ssouth and..." Rey stopped to think. "ssyna rise direction. Come from Ahnatep, "take sship north to Ssylirass. Pass Riverfall and Kenassh, not sspend much time there. Go around Sylira area, Zeltiva, Ssunberth, come here to Alvadass. Sstay here until now."

He had to say, he was surprised to hear that the woman had traveled. From the look of it, blacksmithing required very specific, and not easily portable equipment. And it wasn't like other cities didn't have blacksmiths. Although, he supposed, those blacksmiths most likely couldn't shape metal with one hand.

He would probably have been a lot more surprised by that if he hadn't just seen her stick that same hand into a flaming forge and grab a piece of white hot metal. But how was she able to do that? Was it the mark? Or was it the arm? Or both, somehow? She'd said the arm was a symbol of her god, and his sense told him the thing was more akin to rock or metal than to flesh, which would certainly explain how it could stand the heat of the forge. But he couldn't understand how she could just bend the metal like that.

"What iss the mark do? That-" he mimed the way she had curved the blade. "-iss from mark? Or from arm? Or iss jussst that you are sstrong?"

Snake Tongue : Common : Arumenic

[Cyrene Everwind]

Description "Cyrene" Thoughts Isur Tukant Others

Cotton shirt – 1sm 2cm (will be minused from ledger upon grading.)

---

The smooth taper of the blade wasn’t much to worry about as she looked over her work turning the back of it in the tongs. Pinching the still red hot blade in her finger tips she eye-balled it for straightness. As any warping of the blade would be a huge detriment to its ability to cut. Satisfied that the blade was significantly straight she slipped the steel back into the fires. Apparently s/he was fully grown and that meant old enough. She semi scoffed turning around to look at the now slightly evasive person before her. “Alright then I take it you’re sensitive about your age, your highness.” She turned back to the anvil and picked her hammer back up and slotted it into her belt. Apparently s/he was from Ahantep, they’d done a pretty decent loop of the inside of the continent.

“Aye that’s a pretty nice loop of the inside of the continent. And the edge of sylia I’ve been around there too and north, up through Sultros and Avanthal bloody cold that way. Been through most of Ahnatep and Riverfall. Quite possibly my favourite place to be this time of year. Oh and by the way the name’s Quinlain. I haven’t asked yours yet so what is it?” She primarily wanted to know in-case s/he didn’t fork over for the sword. She pulled the sword from the flames now a dull red glow spread throughout the blade she slowly walked it over to the large oil bath. The moment the steel hit the oil a burst of bright orange flames crawled out of the tank. Still the questions seemed to be never ending. Letting the blade rest in the oil she had five chimes at the least before she had to remove the blade from the oil. Looking him/her over she sighed a little and stepped over to the anvil again. “The mark allows me to make whatever I create more durable and much stronger than it has any right to be. If you want me to do that to this blade I’m making for you that’ll be an extra hundred and seventeen mizas.” A cool glimmer in her eyes as she glanced at rey. And her eyes caught his motions mimicking what she’d done with the blade.

“That lassie is natural Isurian strength, my right arm the red one is a little stronger still though. The mark is to make my creations more durable and a sign of recognition from the god of industry patience and strength himself.” A small smirk of pride spread across her face as she pulled the strip form her hair and let it fall loose around her features. The long brown hair softly framing her face and reaching down to just above her chest before she scooped it beck up and tied it tighter in a much lower point almost resting against the back of her neck now. Stepping out of the forge she picked a another shirt from her bag and not even bothering to warn him/her, but keeping her back towards them as she completely removed the clothing of her torso slipping on the shirt instead and stuffing the shirt she was wearing into the bag. The shirt was right now slightly too big for her. But as she stepped forwards buttoning it up a small flash of light erupted around her.

Stepping forwards she was now significantly taller. Much longer hair and a circlet of horns like obsidian glass circled her head. “Sorry about that. Happens when the sun goes down.” A soft smirk across her features. Not even registering the event she picked up a small sheet of bronze and began to hammer it to form shaping the square sheet into a circle with a vice and a hammer. She was going to go for a cup hilt encasing the whole hand.

[Yisanareysin]

Rey grinned at her comment. "Name is Reyssin." He told her cheerfully. "Eyktol iss good placce to be when Winter come. Though nightss are worsse, then. Not been to Avanthal or Ssultross before. Iss interessting? Might go ssome ssummer."

The Isur, Quinlain, she'd said, brought the blade over to a tub of.. was that water? No, clearly not. Water didn't typically burst into flames like that, did it? "Thiss iss.. what iss thiss? What iss purposse of putting metal in?" He asked curiously as flames flared up from the tank.

His skin prickled as a wave of heat passed over him, bringing him back to his desert dwelling days, and he revelled in the sensation as Quinlain answered his questions. So, the mark affected the blade, and not the blacksmith at all? Now that was interesting. The marks he'd seen typically affected the marked, not the things they made. Although.. he supposed if any god's mark were to do that, the god of crafting would be her. Er, him.

Did he want it? Oh yes. He wanted it very, very much. Not so much for its strength and durability, though that certainly would be a bonus. But to have a marked item in his hand.. What could he sense from it, if he tried? Oh, the things he might learn.

"Hundred seventeen more.... iss hundred thirty total, yess?" He had a nagging suspicion that she was overcharging, but he didn't particularly care. What was a bit.. well, quite a lot of money when he had so much to potentially gain?

"Agree. Hundred thirty."

Glancing out the door, he saw the sun dipping low in the sky. Might be a bit dangerous to get the coin from the Cave at night, but surely she wouldn't mind if he brought the money by tomorrow inst-

What in Ionu's blessed name was she doing? Rey blinked at the sight of the smith slipping off her shirt. Huh. He'd thought the static races, those who lived their lives in only one form, were far more prudish about nudity than Dhani or Kelvics were. Perhaps the Isur didn't have the same issue that humans and Eypharians did.

There was a flash of light, and Rey averted his eyes, wincing at the sudden brightness. Turning back, his eyes widened in surprise.

Perhaps the isur were a shifting race after all. Where the woman had been short, shorter than even he was, muscled and broad, she was tall now, nearly slender, a crown of horn ringing her head. Almost without thinking, Rey exhaled, heat flickering within him as he sensed. Oh, she was different alright. The aura was lighter, less earthy and more like.. like those summer days in Syliras, not dust or grass or sand, but wet mist, rising from gods only knew where. But beneath that...

It was the same person all right. But what a change! Even her voice was different, smoother, breathier. Even if the personality seemed the same.

"Thiss isss.. All issur change with ssun?"

Snake Tongue : Common : Arumenic

[Cyrene Everwind]

Description "Cyrene" Thoughts Isur Tukant Others

Cyrene Simply took the hammer to the bronze sheet, hammering the square plate into a much more manageable circle. Slipping the circle of bronze into the much lighter heat to become malleable, the blast of heat sent the lower half of her shirt billowing. She’d only bothered to button it down to just below her decently proportioned chest. Only then did the questions flow through, and she finally received a name of her would be customer. Reysin. Guessing from the elongated s’ that s/he was either had a lisp or was not of the human persuasion. He was right though Eyktol was a lovely place for winter. An absolute bitch in the forge though and even worse in summer. S/he wanted to visit Sultros or Avanthal.

“Fair warning misses, it’s a little chilly up there. I wouldn’t be found in the same dress I’m wearing now up there. Last time I was there almost three feet of snow.” She gave a small chuckle. As she changed her appearance her whole demeanour seemed to shift, as if she was much more comfortable in this skin. In this body. She loved her Isur form but this one felt more natural more…personal. His/her questions about putting the steel into the oil bath was answered to the sound of ringing bronze. As she hammered a small curve into the plate and folded it around the horn of the anvil to get the curve for the hand guard. Picking up a small punch she hammered it through the bronze. A hole for the tang and the handle to fit through. A simple enough construction. Her tone of voice seemed melodious even harmonious with the ringing. Almost as if she was singing the response back to him/her.

“The stuff in that tank, is an oil which is used, to harden and temper the steel.” She paused tasking the cutting tool now to the base of the shape and started to punch it through there. “It makes the steel stronger, so it doesn’t break upon impact. It’s a variation on the water quenching, as this way produces a cleaner finish. Also produces a coat so the blade doesn’t rust.” She finished punching the metal through the bronze and took a file too it. The screeching of the bronze as she took of the thin layer of torn metal she’d caused with the punch. S/he wanted her to izentor it? Well that was new.

“Alright then a hundred and thirty mizas it is.” She smiled softly now her back still towards him/her. This was going to take a lot out of her. Still now she felt that same drilling stare punching into her back. The sense of annoyance rose within her again. She wheeled around leaving the bronze guard atop the anvil. She stepped over to him/her. This time towering over them. She lifted her izentor marked had and flicked him/her in the head lightly with her middle finger. A small smirk across her much softer face. Now close enough to them to look down at him/her and see into their eyes. His/her large soft blue eyes meeting her almost smoky pale moonlight ones blue but just off yellow. She lifted her arm to press it against the wall above his head as she looked down at them.

“Thought I said to stop staring at my arse?” She spoke softly, the same person beneath it all but a slight change to her demeanour. Though his/her next few words came out with a slight pause. Possibly form circumstance. Possibly from thought. Did all isur change with Syna's light? A small chuckle escaped her lips. “No. I’m special. I’m not an Isur per-say, at least not purely. I’m an Ethaefel. So yes I change forms. When Syna shines I’m an Isur, when Leth takes his rightful place within the sky. I become what you see before you now.” She reached her arm out to the side and picked up a small piece of doweling. Black oak. Hard and when polished, almost took on a mirror like finish.

She peeled away from the wall and picked up a few of the carving tools nearby. She began to sut the bore hole through the wood for the tang to sit in.
“So Rey. When were you going to let me in on the fact that you were a male?” She smirked keeping her back to him a thin sheen of moisture building up over her skin again refracting the fire light with soft purples and mixed blues, even pale greens. “Also I’m fairly touchy about Izentoring things, even with the price I’ve given you. I need a reason to enhance the blade. As it is almost like I’m putting a piece of my soul into my work.” She turned her head over her shoulder looking at him out of the corner of her eye, the mysterious orbs within holding a glance as the fires of the forge cast off a light that danced through the obsidian glass like horns of hers. Her silken snow white hair catching some of the orange glow. A lasting glance and she’d cut through the wood fully for her grip. Now to pattern it.

creditSerious thanks to Fire and credit to Firenze for this freakin sweet template