A Pot Full of Stars [ Solo ]

[Brig]

Day 29 in Winter, 510 AV Haeli was busy with her plants and herbal concoctions, and Brig was left to his own devices for the day. He’d spent the morning hovering over her, getting in the way, peering into her pots, tasting this or that…whether it was meant to be tasted or not, before finally stating that he was off to make himself useful. He’d gone off into the city on two legs. The kelvic had thoroughly explored the city and its peaks in his coon form, panhandling, rummaging through rubbish bins for cast off treasures to add to the corner of his workshop, stirring up rivalries with the odd stray cat. But today he’d need to carry larger things back with him, and had chosen his human form in order to better make his rounds. It was Lhavit’s merchants Brig was keen on visiting. He had no written list of what he’d need, and there’d be more trips than one before he was done. But he had a few ideas, and what he needed to start didn’t amount to much. And it didn’t take long, a visit to just a handful of merchants and he was back, carrying with him a small lantern with a metal base and vented lid at each end of its glass globe, a small jar of black paint and a handful of brushes. He was three silver rimmed mizas poorer, but it was all he needed for now. Brig did his work in mysterious ways. At least it would have seemed strange to human craftsmen that stood or sat at their worktables on stools. The kelvic instead perched on top of the wide and heavy table, dressed in nothing but loose white silk trousers and level with his work. He had no drawn out plans, no lists of calculations. Reading wasn’t the only skill Brig had never mastered. But numbers and measurements worked to much of any degree were beyond him. He worked by observation, instinct, trial and error, and ultimately, deductive reasoning. Even if he couldn’t have defined the terms themselves. He guessed a lot, and he didn’t measure by inches or feet. But by the span of his own hand long or crosswise, the distance from the joint of his thumb to its tip or a good straight stick he’d found out in the yard. This first try at creating stars that shone on inside walls and ceilings was only an experiment. What he ended with wouldn’t be made of metal or glass, no lanterns or black paint. He'd be knocking holes in things that weren't meant to have them. But he wanted to know that the affect he wanted was a workable one. The lantern and paint would be just the thing to start with. He wouldn’t need to do any cutting just yet. Only brushing black paint onto glass in several layers to insure that the light inside the globe didn’t shine through. Except in those places that he meant for it to. It took much longer than he’d anticipated, most of the day spent crouched over his work with splotches of black paint ending up not just on the glass globe. But on his fingers, clothing and smudged across the bridge of his nose. It wasn’t just brushing several coats of paint on in solid strokes. But dabbing it on so that points of clear glass were left scattered all over from base to lid. Not too small, he’d decided early on, or the light shining through wouldn’t travel like he wanted it too. But not too large, or it would blend and overwhelm the dark and flat places. Trial and error, and inadvertent smudges, made for odd sizes and spaces that varied along the curves of the globe. It was a messy experiment, but the kelvic was pleased with what he’d accomplished. After letting the globe dry so he could put it in place, he’d lit the lamp and turned it to its brightest in his now dark workshop. And had called Haeli in to view his handiwork. The oddities he’d stumbled upon over the course meant that the results weren’t all that they could be. But it wasn’t bad, he’d thought, and he knew then what he’d do different next time. Tomorrow there’d be more things to buy and bring home, and another day of trial and error. Spent: .3 gm

[Brig]

Day 30 Brig had spent the better part of the morning helping Haeli around All Things Wild, and then he was off again towards the markets. And like the day before, his list was in his head and subject to change on a whim. He was becoming more comfortable with Lhavit’s sellers, or at least many of them would recognize him by now. It helped make gathering supplies easier, when often the kelvic relied on roundabout descriptions. And sometimes, even added elaborate gestures to better communicate what it was he was looking for, but couldn’t necessarily name. He returned home with his arms full. And brought back more than he’d meant to. Another jar of paint, this time darkest blue, a porcelain saucer of a size suitable for a teacup, a short and stout candle and three small clay pots with lids to fit on. His arms were so full that along the way, he’d dropped one of his pots, leaving it to crash against cobblestones into large pieces. But he’d picked them up and dropped the pieces into one of the whole ones to bring home with him. He could practice on them, and the incident had also prompted a new idea, but one for another day. Back in his workshop he was perched atop the table again, the door left wide open so he could hear and watch Haeli as she moved around their home. But his focus on his undertaking was intense, so much that she could hear him huffing in frustration now and again. Even growling or pacing and grumbling when things weren’t going just as he’d planned. Of the two clay pots that were left whole, one was glazed and the other was still raw. It was the idea of piercing holes in them without cracking or breaking them, which had left him scratching his head the longest. There’d be mishaps over the course of getting it right, so it was the already broken pieces he’d start with first. He’d rummaged through the toolkit he’d bought a number of times by now. Some of the things inside, he’d known their names and uses straight away. Thanks to the patient old tinker who’d schooled him a little whenever he’d pass by Brig’s childhood home. Or even stop for a meal and a place to park his wagon overnight, if the young kelvic’s mother was feeling charitable. Some of the tools, even if he couldn’t name them he knew what they were useful for. Others, he could neither name or find a purpose for, and those bits and pieces had ended up rattling around in the bottom of his box. Taking the most direct approach towards the largest of the broken pieces, he started with a small hammer and a chisel nearly as narrow as a knitting needle. And with a look of concentration equal to one of stalking the most elusive of prey in the wilderness, he delivered a smart whack to the end of one with the other…and neatly, promptly cleaved the curved section of clay in two. Narrowing his gaze menacingly, Brig literally growled and huffed at the results, before turning back to his box for better prospects. Before long, most of the contents were scattered on the floor or the surface of the table and he was left with what had collected in the bottom. There he found the stout block of wood he’d pondered many a time. Small enough to grip firmly in his hand with rounded edges, solid and with a deep and narrow rounded shaft in one side that was notched and reinforced with metal at its bottom. The only things he’d found to fit that hole were a handful of metal pieces, sharpened rods with various corkscrew patterns along their shafts, and also notched at their blunt ends. Either separate or together, the kelvic lacked the experience to know what to call them. And as for their usefulness, he’d spent very little time, to now, trying to figure it out. But lesson learned, trying to knock holes into hardened clay would only result in broken pots. If whacking away at his project didn’t work, taking determined jabs at it with the sharpest and most menacing looking of his bits, inserted and locked in place, was unlikely to do any better than breaking yet another piece of clay. Or knocking sizable gouges and chips out of it instead. He come to suspect as much, tried it anyway, and proved his own reasoning quite correct... Spent: .6 gm

[Brig]

Day 30 Continued Where it concerned clay pots, over the course of two days, Brig had managed to shatter, chip, gouge, and cleave them in two. The kelvic knew now how not to drive holes through hardened clay. He’d remember, and apply the knowledge to other things. But now there was figuring how to do it properly. Others like him might have given up by now. But not Brig, he was tenacious in either form. As a coon he’d taken on rivals twice his size. He wasn’t going to let one small pot get the better of him. After his previous try, he’d spent some time off his table and out of his workshop. Helping Haeli around the place, prowling the property inside and out in his coon form to make sure nothing new or irregular had developed while he was distracted with other things. But now he was back, cross-legged and crouched on the table with a fresh piece of clay in front of him. He was still convinced that, even if he didn’t know what to call it, the hand driven drill with its deadly sharp bit was the thing to use. He’d picked it up again and was studying it, eyeing the spiral grooves along its shaft. The rises were blade sharp, they weren’t exactly crosswise but flowed like spiraling ribbons from top to bottom. The tinker had never had one of these in his bag, the kelvic didn’t think. But it only took studying them a little, and a little experimentation on the surface of the table, to know how best to use them. It all seemed so simple and logical now, if one was using human logic. Even if he wasn’t human, Brig felt a little silly that it had taken him so long to figure it. But he knew exactly where he’d gone wrong. At the start. He’d made strainers for Haeli back in the Fall, from paper thin sheets of metal worked into bowls and frames after he’d pierced them through dozens of times. He’d done it with that same hammer and needle thin chisel, plus a good deal of muscle. So it had seemed somehow sensible that he could do something similar with his pots. Lesson learned. Metal didn’t crack, chip or shatter when you smacked it. Dried clay required a little more finesse and wasn’t nearly as forgiving. Finally then he faced another large piece of clay and braced it gently, steadily against the table with one hand, with the drill gripped firmly in the other. Things went much easier from there forward, if slowly. One mishap too close to a cleaved off edge produced another unwanted chip, but in good time he’d driven one hole through, then followed with several others for good practice. He even discovered that if he changed his bit for one of the thicker ones after he’d driven the first one through, and then followed with it, he could vary the sizes of the points of light that would shine on ceilings and walls. Finally, he felt comfortable enough to face the intact pots he’d brought home the day before. One was raw and the other was glazed, but he’d yet to decide if it would make a difference. Turned out, it did. No matter how much effort, concentration, muscle…and snarling, he put behind the effort, he couldn’t put more than a dent in that pot. It baffled him at first. The pot itself wasn’t all that thick, in fact it was thinner than the duller piece he’d practiced on. It was like armor, he decided, whatever its maker had brushed onto its outside. And he set the thing aside after comparing its resistance to that of its raw twin. Maybe Haeli would like a nice pot for her herbs. Spent: 0 gm

[Brig]

Day 31 After finally mastering the art of drilling holes into clay pots, or at least through broken pieces of them without breaking them more, Brig had left off his project for another day. Choosing instead to spend the evening with Haeli, helping her around the place or simply lying side by side with her on the floor of All Things Wild, staring up at genuine stars through their glass ceiling. But it was morning now, the middle of it. And after another venture out and about to see Lhavit’s merchants, the kelvic was at it again. Now that he’d gotten the knack of it, the mishaps fewer and further between, it was only sitting down with the time and the patience to see it through. He was confident that with practice, he could produce a good number of the pots in one sitting. And maybe, as Haeli had wondered, maybe others would offer up coin for one of their own. But this day, he was only interested in finishing two of them. So he’d brought back with him another small pot to add to his other whole one, a couple of candles more and another saucer to match the first one he’d purchased. He was atop his table again, one of the pots and its lid in front of him, and his hand driven drill at the ready. One of the bits was already locked in place, and the other, thicker one was in easy reach beside him. It took hours, most of the day with a break in the middle to eat with Haeli and help her with what needed doing. But into early evening he’d mostly stayed bent over his work, drilling hole after hole with care and patience. He varied the sizes and spacing between them a little as it seemed to him that real stars weren’t laid out along predictable lines, or arranged in perfect grids. But dozens of them, along every curve of each pot from their tops to their bottoms. Neither were the lids left alone. Though he’d practiced first on the spare lid from the pot he’d broken two days earlier. Plenty of holes for light to shine through and reflect on walls and ceilings. Not too small to prevent the light escaping and projecting over the distance to surfaces as it should. But not so much that points of light would grow and shine too large, or merely spread and blend, each one into the other. Before he was done with the second pot, he’d decided he’d paint it with the dark blue he’d purchased the day before. These pots weren’t glazed like the one that had resisted his efforts to pierce it. They were plainer, rougher and he wondered if Haeli might like them better with a dark glossy finish. So in order to let her choose, he painted only one of them with two coats, and left it to dry before adding the finishing touches. It was almost dark before it had, and he placed one of the small saucers in the bottom of each pot. They’d collect the wax from the candles as they melted, and be easier to clean off than the bottom of the pot would be. Then there was only the candles to put in, to light, and the lids to put in place before he was done. He couldn’t have timed it better. It was nearly dark outside and Haeli had gone off on an errand into the city. He expected her back any minute though, and when she returned, he intended she’d find a surprise waiting for her. His handiwork placed just so in the darkest part of All Things Wild. It was a small room compared to others, but it was one full of stars where there shouldn’t have been any at all. Spent: .3 gm Grand Total: 1.2 gm

[Kelpie]

Brig: +2 Painting, +5 Tinkering , + 1 Negotiating Lore: Tinkering Like a True Kelvic, How To: Starry Globe, Trial and Error, How to Drill Holes in a Clay Pot, How To: Starry Clay Pots The following should be deducted from your ledger: 1.2gm Mod Note: Great job Brig! I love your character, he's so quirky and cute in such a great kelvic-y way. I really like how you incorporated the fact that he IS a kelvic and he isn't necessarily the mathiest boy on the rack! Great great job. I gave you negotiating for implying that you spoke with the merchants and that he was having trouble naming what he wanted. Hope you don't mind, haha.