[Kitrean Krafts] Making One's Way (closed)

[Julius Aldoid]

25th Winter, 510 A.V.

He stood enthralled by it- by the smashing of hammers, though melted stone and flame hotter then any hearth, so precise a form had been rendered from what had simply been a few shimmering chunks of metal. Even in his limited experience, he knew what awe inspiring craftsmanship it had to take to make the plate armor that stood before him, flanked by an entourage of swords. It was an awesome display of craft, and the Isurian who rendered, in great likelihood, was without parallel in his art.

And it was from such a person that he sought to ask a job.

His eyes shot back to the desk in front of him, and there stood before him Vacielli Haolven. Juli's own glimmering had been but a heartbeat of time, but had lasted an eternity.

"Greetings Mr. Haolven," a hand stretched forward, realizing for a moment that he was about to try and shake Haloven's smiting arm. Juli's own Eypharian blood often lead him do dress wildly, a colorful and wild blend of patterns, formed into a ensemble of dapper formality. It complimented his somewhat effeminate appearance, and he was very proud of his dandy ways. It was a detriment to him when trying to convince others that one had experience in the sweat, dirt, and heat of a forge.

But even a regular man appeared effeminate when standing before an Isurian, and so Juli, by comparison to the mastersmith before him, looked like a blasted peacock.

"My Name is Julius Aldoid, son of Henry Aldoid. I have some limited skill in the craft of Metalsmithing, and I would wish to offer my services as another hand within your forge,"