Questions for the Ringer

Tenebrae - Friday, August 13, 2021, 3:33 PM

-=--=--=--=--=--=<* A07: Lower Alexandria Market District *>-=--=--=--=--=--=-

         Just west of the Northern Highbridge and east of the arena, commerce blooms. Noisy and bustling, most anything may be purchased here for a price. Vendors from all cultures sell their wares from exotically colored carts, and the smells of different nations and far-off city-states mix with local ones from Alexandria and its riverbanks. 

         For all its commerce, visitors are advised to keep hold of their purses. Even the merchants possess a certain, cunning look. Most are positioned at carts or stalls as opposed to a formal storefront, with trade here being mobile, and visiting from all parts of the world. 

         Though the quality of goods suffers here compared to Upper Alexandria, the options are more diverse. Too, the oversight of the Watch is slightly less, and during times events are held at the Arena, chaos abounds. After dark, the square becomes a hangout for bards and other entrepreneurs whose business is best conducted by night; the shadows at the edges of the square often contain furtive figures engaging in their own brand of business.

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Vaera 50s 7'0" 262 Lb Sith-Makar Female

   A tall, dark red Makari with a wooden leg.    
                            

Venom 0s 5'6" 130 Lb Human Female

   A woman(?) about 5'6" in a ragged black veil and poncho.
             

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Anvilclang: Forge <AFG> Craft's Crafts <CC> Anvilclang: Entry <AS>

Prestigious Moon <PM> Fernwood Pub <FP> West <W>

Bridge <NE> South <So>

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It's a busy enough day in the market district, hawkers and barkers in stalls of varying permanance are trying to eke out their living by harpooning the interest of fickle, hopefully well heeled, passersby.

One stall, however, is largely silent.

The merchant of this one is trying to spin sunshine and moonbeams for the benefit of the oddly shrouded woman standing in ominous silence before him..

A gloved hand reaches out to carefully take up what seem to be a bracelet for goblins, turning it this way and that while holding it up into the atual light of the daystar before setting it down with a little shake of her head and proceeeding to the next.

It was a busy enough day, but even still, one figure stood out amongst the crowd, despite their wishes not to. Likely due to towering over most,save for the occasional giantborn, was a dark red Makari in a jacket split at the back for their tail.

It was a rare opportunity to explore markets so open and well stocked, and she was running low on various supplies which were hard to source from the wilds. And so she passed by various stalls, not seeming to find what she was looking for. She pauses at the stall the shrouded woman was at, glancing at the bracelets.

"What are these for?" She asks idly, with no choice but to look down to Venom. "For appearances, or some other purpose?"

The veiled woman's head turns slightly to the side as the sudden shade arrives to ask of her perusal. It there's a look, it's very hard to make out, but the silence is allowed to have for a moment before she sets down the piece on a sightly different spot, closer to her and reaches for a third.

Her other hand, closer to the sith, flicks out a quick gesture of, "Personal." either in indifference to how few people actually understand the sign, or- <handspeech>

"It's uhhhh, personal, she says." the merchant, a Veyshanti fellow with a mustache that has beeen groomed with a love that defies imagination.

The red Makari was unperturbed, and the yellow eyes glanced to the hands with a glimmer of recognition. "I was asking about the purpose, not why you wanted it, or decided you did not want it." she notes, looking at the bracelet. "Not meaning to pry, just curious. Since I'm not sure what the reason for it is unless it's magical, save for ritual purposes.Unless that is why you don't wish to speak of them."

Another silence, the third part held aloft, frozen in space, and the little figure turns her attention back that way, then, her free hand twists and flexes again, "Replacement parts. His source has purer materials." <handspeech>

This is, in turn, translated by the merchant, who puffs up and clearly expounds upon the concept the mute is, clearly, too modest by proxy to share with another potentially well discerning customer.

GAME: Vaera rolls craft/gunsmithing +2: (19)+5+2: 26

"So you're using them for parts, and the purity matters." The Makari notes, glancing at the copper, and picking one of the rings up, turning it in her hand before setting it down. "You're making something with them, or repairing something? Didn't realize the purity mattered."

Venom seems satisfied, at first, that the point was made, and begins to examine the third ring in the light before setting against the second as a fourth, this one gold, is weigned in her hand. She looks to the Sith again and nods.

Her empty hand twists and flicks out, "Impurities introduce points of failure." <handspeech>

The merchant, not.... overly fond of doing more translating than sale, instead clears his throat politely and wonders, "And you, my friend, how may I help you? Perhaps some fine Khazad goldcraft to adorn your splendid spines?"

"And you don't want points of failures with artifice, do you?" The sith-makar nods, tapping a foot against the stone with a dull thunk.

"I can understand the handsigns myself, thank you for the translating though." She nods to the merchant. "Maybe I need to have some spare metal parts on hand. I have heard khazad are masters of metalcraft. While they may look nice, I could not wear any such gold. They would catch the light too much."

Venom's head cants a smidge, then she shakes her head as her hand contorts through a new sequence, "Never give anything but a bomb an excuse to explode." <handspeech>

This fourth ring is set with the other two, and a fifth taken up.

The merchant, for his part, sputters a moment, coloring some over that simply, utterly, magnificent moustache, but nods, "Ahh, as you say, my friend. Perhaps a fine alloy, then? I can arrange for my supplier to patina or color temper whatever design meets your needs"

"That is true. It's important parts move smoothly, and do not react to others present." They nod again. From out of their coat, pull up something odd to look at for a moment. A large block of metal and what appears to be a wooden stock, that she looks at for a moment. "Perhaps the temper would be helpful? For something hard wearing, that would be ideal." She offers to the merchant, stowing the block back away.

Venom nods. The fifth ring is set back in it's original place before a sixth is given a lookover before the Sith Makar brings out a project of their own. The veiled chin lowers, likely to facilitate the sweep of her gaze along the contruction before it's stowed once more. She doesn't comment, taking the cue as 'now it's my turn with the merchant's attention' and continues her appraisals, now starting to compare later rings by size with the others and arranging them, apparently, in 'buy/deny' groups.

The merchant hmmm's and strokes that splendid, splendid facial hair of his and beams a smile like the sun rising over the plains of Veyshan itself, "Certainly, certainly, my friend!" Very friendly, "It may take another couple of days to propery meet the proper combination of alloying and tempering, but I guarantee any personal requirements you have will be met and exceeded!"

"Hard wearing but smooth." She nods, seeming content enough with that. She looks to the veiled woman, and lets out a puff of air. The stowed object was likely a firearm of some sort, yet too oddly shaped to be a dragonspitter, and too short to be a thunderbelcher. collapsed, perhaps?

"Do you mind if I ask how you use the rings? I'm curious, if you're using them in that given shape."

"Of course, one moment!" the merchant says, then turns to fish some stationary to collect the specifications this fine new customer may need. After all, he made a hard sell with that guarantee.

Meanwhile, Venom has accumulated a decent pile of rings in both metals, and, interestingly, in two sizes where possible. She turns back as the question comes her way, is still for several moments, then, "The diameter is perfect, but they need modification." <handspeech>

That said, the mute figure squares up her pile of parts and seems content to wait fo the merchant to finish..

"If you need some tools to modify them with, I have a few. In exchange for explaining what you're doing? I do not know why you need the two sizes, and I am trying to learn more about artifice." The tall makari offers, before she takes the papers, and looks them over completely, leaving nothing unread before she begins to fill out the form with rough trade script. "I would rather not, give anything an excuse to explode, as you say."

The merchant smiles, stroking the good luck charm growing under his nose as the Sith fills out the form, and he turns to the veiled woman, seeing that she's set up on her purchases, "Ahh, excellent selection, my friend." Yes, very friendly, "That would be seventy five gold pieces."

In lieu of hanggling of any stripe, the veiled woman's hands vanish under her poncho and emerge with a small stack of platinum coins, and a slightly shorter stack of gold.

It took a moment until she could fill out the form, and she pulled at the weapon in her coat again, this time with a tape measure which she used to take a few numbers for the form. And then leaning down to measure something else quickly. The price raised her brow, but she just nods, signing off in much more clean draconic for a signature and handing it back to the merchant. "My thanks, I feel like if the person here trusts your wares, they will be quality." She says.

Venom cocks her head a touch at that, but nods with a little thumbs-up as the Veyshanti bundles up the veiled figures wares.

Even as he does, the merchant inquires, "Would you like a protective oil coating to protect your finish? It is easily cleaned and prevents any natural corrosion in transit."

The silent one accepts the bundle with a little bow and it vanishes under her poncho, and it's not for some moments before her hands reemerge.

The red makari seems to wait and watch for Venom's response, but they do not seem to wish for any oil. "It will be alright, I will be prompt in my pickup, and I have my own oils used afterwards." She says to the merchant. "Thank you, I will be back to pick it up."

She looks to the veiled woman, appraising her again. "It may be strange, but would you be willing to tell me more about your work? I have no formal training, myself."

Venom gives a single shake of her head...

There is a little pause, then she signs, "Secrets." pauses, then, "Never use a pattern weld of noble and common metal. At the slightest moisture, it will start to eat itself. Beutiful, but self destructive." <handspeech>

The merchant nods again to the Sith, if he's following the half-silent conversation, he's making no indication, "It should be available within a fortnight. Would you like a missive sent anywhere in particular?"

"Then, perhaps you could tell me more that is not? Or other topics." She suggested, before turning back to the merchant. "The wayfarer's inn, I believe they have a desk there for accepting mail. Addressed to Vaera, I will keep whatever documentation is needed on me for the retrieval."

"Slow is smooth, smooth is fast." Venom signs at first, ending the statement by holding up one finger.

"Know your materials" followed by holding up two fingers.

"Goblins use alchemical propellant. Goblintown is that way." Venom notes, pointing off in one direction, "Cheap parts, quick, with..." a hesitation, "Almost no questions."

Then she points in another direction, "Arcanist guild is that way. Many Gnomes. More exotic parts, more elegant. Many questions." <handspeech>

"So if I need parts more magical in nature, need to go deal with the arcanist's guild. Makes sense." They sigh, not seeming to keen on the fact, but they follow along with their instructions. But it only causes them to look for a moment, before they continue. "And if you are dealing with artifice not of gnome or goblin make? It's all I can do just to keep this thing in working shape, to be perfectly honest. I've only got so many supplies, and those will not last forever."

Venom gives that a second, then nods. It's a lot to consider, the assorted ways of accomplishing the task, literally at hand. Without a frame of reference, she can only guess at any advice for the particular weapon's maintainance, and so she signs, "How well do you understand how that weapon works?" <handspeech>

"Enough to use it, and keep it from getting in too bad shape. Don't think I could make one, and parts can take a while to get replaced. The mechanisms I can handle, the magical part of the artifice, not so much." They reply simply, seeming more than a bit frustrated by the fact.

Venom folds her arms under the poncho for a few moments, the split toes of her left boot wiggling in turns before her hands emerge bearing writing implements. Skitter-skitter-scritch-scratch-skittter-skeeeter-scritch-scratchscratch.

She holds up the notepad with some arcant formulae crisply enscribedd thereupon:

"Can you read this?" <Kulthian>

"That's a language I don't know, unfortuately." They say quickly, a cursory glance enough to let them know they couldn't tell what it was entirely. "It looks like, something I've seen in a few ruins in my travels.

"Is that some formulae for it though? Can tell that, at least."

Venom tucks the implements away and nods. She goes still after that for some moments, then she starts to sign anew, "That's part of your problem."

The shrrouded one looks about slightly, then starts to elaborate, "That language is called K U L T H I A N. To understand artifice properly requires knowing the language. The framing of design concepts, means of measurement and more are tied directly into being able to work the words in your head." <handspeech>

"Need to understand the language to understand the way it works. Seems simple enough, you ca learn a lot about most people and things by knowing their language. Strange it's not translated into a more common one, though." Vaera nods. "Helps to know names, too. You probably overheard it, mine's Vaera. And is there anything I can do in exchange for what you've been telling me? Seems fair, after all."

Venom there is the rise and fall of the poncho, briefly exposing the tip of a holster at her thigh, then, "It's as much about the manner of thinking" one hand tap-pats her temple while the other continues framing words, "as speaking. The esoteric side of artifice demands it."

The veiled woman clasps her hands together, flick the sign for the word, "Venom." then part anew, "The language is thought with less charity than artifice itself, here." <handspeech>

"Well, nice to meet you," "Venom." <handspeech> She replies with a flick of her tail and the sign back, not dwelling on the name. "Surprised they haven't worked to make is less esoteric, but from what I can tell, people are still working everything out.But I was able to open my mind to using this thing, and I can open my mind to thinking about other things. Not sure what you mean about the charity though. People don't like dealing with that script?

Venom shakes her head. There is a moment of thought and, "When artifice came into the world, those that created it used it for dark purposes. Enslave wills. Use souls to power massive engines. The Gods struck down that place, but the reputation of artifice, and the language needed to properly understand it, are stained, probably forever." <handspeech>

"And then people would use it for dark purposes again, which doesn't help things." Vaera sighs, glancing down to where the weapon was hidden by her coat. "And all that sounds worse than just killing one person. Can understand why people don't like thinking of a language associated with things like that. But It can do good, too. Least I like to think so."

Venom gives another shrug, then signs, "Knowledge is a tool and a weapon. Some feel the same about magic."

There is a look up toward the sky, then back to the Sith before her head gives a little cant to the side. <handspeech>

"Some people feel that way, it's true. I know there's problems with knowledge sometimes. Least I can do is do some good with it, right?" They reply with another flick of their tail. They follow their gaze to the sky, and then back down, the makari tilting their own head. "Something the matter? I know we can be pretty unsettling to a lot of folks. Doesn't help matters a lot of the time. Least not when you're trying to be unthreatening."

"You can. Or not." Venom signs, followed by a little shrug. The glance skyward and the followup question warrant a quick explaination, "Work to do. Heard of the Explorer's Guild?" <handspeech>

"So the question is if it's worth the risk to do good versus the bad. But that's hard to determine. People are complicated." They nod. "Understandable, there's always work to do, food to hunt, that sort of thing. Heard the name pop up a few times. You have business with them? Their goals seem decent enough, for the most part."

Venom nods, then, "They have work. Many contractors. Many means." The veiled figure shifts her weight slightly, then continues, "If I am there waiting for work, I may be able to teach you more about that thing. Good light and steady tables." <handspeech>

"I might have to look into that, then. Keeping this thing functional has taken up most of the gold I've managed to acquire. And figuring out a way to make the ammunition would save a lot of hassle too." They reply, looking in the direction where the building was. "And if I can find you around there to learn more, seems better too. Best to work with a clear mind and a clear view, it's true. Though sometimes it's best to keep yourself concealed."

There is a little huff that billows the front of the veil at that, followeed by a shrug before the signing begins again, "True words." The woman looks skyward anew, then gives a little bow and wave before starting to turn on her heel. <handspeech>

"I don't think it's going to rain, if that's what you're wondering." The red sith-makar responds after Venom looks back to the sky. She returns the bow quickly with another flick of her tail behind her, shifting the coat just enough to see the wooden leg underneath it fully. "Take care, thanks for listening to some odd person in the markets, it was quite helpful."

Venom shakes her head.

"It doesn't smell like rain." she signs at her side, her still turned some Vaera's way. She nods once more then signs again, "Fare well." <handspeeech>

With the valedictions intoned, the silent figure completes her turn and strides into the thinning crowd to make her way back to... wherever it is she lays her head.

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VAERA

Vaera is quite tall even for a sith-makar, and their scales are a dark red, with bright yellow eyes. There are frills on the side of their faces, and several spines facing backwards to the back of their head.

In most situations, they wear a a long, heavy coat of a dark gray with a navy undershirt that obscures most of their legs, and conceals numerous pockets filled with herbs, and ammunition. A pair of trousers accompany the outfit, though the right leg is cut off for obvious reasons when not obscured by the coat. Their entire right leg from the knee down is missing, and in its place is fitted a hardwood prosthetic. Hinged in several places, it is carved expertly to mimic the shape of a natural leg and foot down to the claw, though the base of the clawed foot is flat to fascilitate ease of movement. Even the scales were carved into place, with several patterns inscribed as well, clearly something to which a large amount of work had been put into.

VENOM

       This is a slender, shrouded figure a little over five and a half feet in height, though the rest is mostly up for speculation. From within dark, tattered veils, a feminine profile could be discerned in certain light, while black silk hair pours from beneath the matching train. Clad in rough, heavy oilskin folds of a frayed, black poncho; engraved brass fittings weighing most of it's tapered knee length hem. Beneath that is a pair of loose trousers of deep, ruddy leather, bloused at the knee by boots best described as leather straps that wind from near the top of the calf to two, blued steel cups, much like the foot of many War Golems, with a heavy, waffled sole beneath. Along the left leg, emerging from the hem of the poncho is a lovingly tooled holster for what is probably a dragonspitter of some pedigree, while studded leather gauntlets protect this entity's hands. In the event that speech occurs, a smooth voice, feminine, midranged, issues forth with a steady cadence, accent too schooled to have a regional tinge.