Shots and Ladders

Log Info

• Title: Shots and Ladders
• Emitter: Nemori
• Characters: Nemori, Jay, Robert
• Place: A02: Lower Trades District
• Time: Saturday, May 07, 2022, 8:14 PM
• Summary: Nemori is working on a personal project at the smithy as Jay arrives to check in. The two chat until Robert struggles under the weight of his own pride (manifested as coal) and requires assistance. The strange trio settle in and catch up, forging loose plans for the future.

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=<* A02: Lower Trades District *>=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

The Lower Trades District is the home of the working man of Alexandria. The Lower Trades is divided, unofficially, into two parts: that controlled by the gobbers, and that controlled by the khazad. The two areas stand in contrast, one with a strong, almost formal architecture and a predilection for blacksmiths, the other a mixture of propped-up rubble and gunpowder. The latter's started to grow however, and take form with the aid of the more structured Arvek Nar. Still, the two stand as uneasy neighbors, though the oruch more easily work both sides, often in the spirit of a friendly, if competitive, warriors' competition that's unique to Alexandria, itself.

Here, the "khazad section" boasts a number of blacksmiths, glass smiths, artifice shops, and basic taverns, as well as any number of trades shops and eateries. The sweet tinge of oil, iron, and spiced BBQ is everywhere. Shrines to Reos, or marks of the same, are found over most doorways, in homage to the khazad Mountain Father and World Smith.

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The smithy is relatively quiet today. The forge is warm, but cooling, and Nemori sits upon her stool at the workbench. She has just cut the end off of the beaten, copper wire she'd been working on and is tapping it into place on the bronze disk she's been hovering over for the last few days. She seems almost oblivious to any of the traffic outside, though her ear twitches at the occasional obtrusive sound. Her smith's apron has been hung, but she's still in her work smock and trousers. A rustling of feathers, a flapping of wings, and a slight thump as an Egalrin lands. Integrity C Truefeather, esquire, has arrived. He steps over to the wall and peers in.

Nemori puts the small hammer aside, then pauses halfway to reaching for a file when she hears the 'thump'. Her hand returns to her side as she slides around a little to look over and spy Jay. "Robert has not been here today," she tells him, still using that too perfect grammar and enunciation for tradespeak marking her as someone who learned it with an education rather than growing up with it. "I have not had a chance to discuss the ladder idea with him yet."

"Oh. Oh. Okay! Well, hopefully he'll like it." The bluejay chirps back. "I've been reading up on the local laws. Some are unsettling. The court rules are straightforward though."

His head whips around as he focuses on different things in the Smithy, "Been sleeping okay? Are you doing better? How's the ear? Do you use a smaller hammer than Robert or the same size one?"

Nemori ought to be used to it by now, her her eyes still widen a little bit as Jay's barrage of questions threaten to overwhelm her. She raises both of her hands, turns her palms down, patting the air in front of her.. a gesture to encourage the egalrin take a breath, perhaps. "My sleep has been fine," she tells him, though her tone is a little guarded. "And my ear is fine.. unless you mean the one that is gone." A pause. "It is still gone." When he questions her hammer, she reaches back to take it in hand... it's certainly no smith hammer. "I borrowed this from the tools Robert uses to work on his gadgetry. I assume it is for finer work. The forge hammer is too clumsy for what I needed."

Speak of the devil! (Robert may pass for one on a passing glance with his red skin but the conspicuous dearth of horns and a tail would certainly raise doubts on a closer inspection.)

The forgemaster struggles under the weight of a bulging and black-stained canvas sack, leaning forward against its weight with his hands by either ear clutching carrying straps. The coal inside is tightly-packed enough that it doesn't stir with each of his heavy steps and only a hint of dust and grit fall from a straining seam at its base.

The big man's breathing is forced into a rhythm slower than his steps as he makes his way up the street. The cool air is a blessing but the moisture only mingles to make the sweat drip off his nose and chin faster.

The white, black and blue egalrin listens intently, his large eyes glittering. It's clear the mul'niessa has his full focus. "That's good. Good! Sleeping well is good."

"And your ear," he spreads a wing indicating he's about to elaborate. "I knew an Egalrin, she lost her foot to frostbite. Winter wolves, froze it and then it fell off. She wasn't about to let that get her down, so she had the bones preserved and then she'd take it places, and pose it on things and make sketches. 'Still Life: Chicken Foot and Water Mellons', 'Chicken Foot and Brickerback Falls'."

"She wasn't actually a 'chicken', but she was white and fluffy and she had an awesome artificial foot too. It was her way of taking control." Jay trades one spread wing for another, "Did you save your ear, preserve it? Would that sort of thing help?"

"Oh! Bob! Bob! Hi Bob, hey do you need help with that?" The egalrin moves to do so.

Nemori's hand drifts up to the covered side of her head reflexively, brushing the hair before she drops it back to the side. She puts the hammer back as well. "Some thing a person simply has to learn to let go, Integrity. But I appreciate your concern and your ideas." She smiles, though her eyes are a touch bitter. "A hard lesson." Then she sees Bob as Jay jumps up and moves to help. "Integrity! Help me with this!" she tells him, moving to pull the coal hopper out so she might wheel it through the gate and on to the street to shorten Robert's laboured journey.

"Got it," Bob grunts, the deeper red of his cheeks giving away just how close that is to a lie. His fingers are the inverse; at least his knuckles are a bone-white. When he takes the next step his foot drags instead of coming clear up off the ground. He falters a moment and then drops to a knee and quits his grip before the tipping weight can take him back with it.

The canvas bag his the cobbles with a dull thud and a quick, earthen grinding before it settles sagging subtly to one side.

The older man folds forward, resting both forearms on his raised knee and sucks in a greedy lungful of air. "Haaaaa..." he exhales with equal parts good humor and frustration, allowing it to twist into "aaalmost had it." Another deep breath and he rolls off his knee to sit on his rump a few steps shy of the sidepath to the smithies. "They were out of carts," he explains, examining his raw palms.

Jay flocks to Nemori's call, assisting with the coal hopper and getting it out of the smithy. He moves next to the dropped bag and struggles to pick it up, "Oh this is heavy, you should have asked for help. We could have come. I've been flittering about all day."

"We should try all at once." He suggests, "Everyone grab, all for one, and one for all!"

With both Jay and Nemori working on it, they manage to get the hopper pushed over to where Robert is.. taking a breather. Once it's settled near the bag, Nemori says, "Let him recover first, Integrity." Her tone isn't chiding.. perhaps she's attemtping to learn from how Slixvah has, in the past, been able to slow the blue jay down. Granted, she lacks certain qualities the avian woman has, but if this is to be her circle of 'friends'.. then she'd best learn how to properly interact with them, right?

Upon reaching the conclusion that Robert's probably going to live, that his heart is probably not on the verge of bursting, she nods to Jay and moves to the other side of the sack. She kneels beside it trying to find places to take hold. "As you will, Integrity. On your count."

Bob's shirt is blackened and stuck firm to his sweaty back, draping loose and heavy in front of him. When he has his breath under control he stands back up slowly and wipes his forehead against his shoulder. "Careful now, IC. That weighs almost as much as you," he half-grunts. He opens and closes his hands, shakes out his fingers, and rolls his shoulders as he steps over to join the other two.

"Count it," he agrees with a nod to the l'egalrin, taking hold with both hands and bending his knees.

"Okay! Three! Two. One! One! One!" Integrity says enthusiastically, immediately pulling before everyone else, "Oh right I forgot to say we go on three. One, two, three!"

Another groan and strain as he grips the sack with both hands and pulls.

Which, of course, leads to another false start.. caught off guard by Jay counting backwards. When Nemori feels him tug, she starts to lift as well. Late. Or rather, early, because by the time she's lifting, he's not and he's counting again. Which makes her just a little bit late with the second lift...

The oversized blacksmith holds the weight up through the confusion, growling through his teeth with the effort until they all rally together and lift it full-up and into the caddy. Once it's down he takes a quick step away and forces his knuckles hard down his thighs.

"Work songs," the Cerenzan laughs, doubling over with his hands on his legs. "Maybe better than counting," he grins, eyes closed.

"How are you both today?"

"I'm good, good!" Jay immediately says, hopping around the caddy once the bag is in place so he can inspect if from all angles. "Work songs? //Heave Ho and up she rises! Heave Ho and up she rises!// you mean?

Nemori steps back from the hopper once the bag has been lifted/fall into it, waving a hand before her to clear the disturbed dust from the air in front of her face. "I am well," she responds afterwards, eyes moving very briefly to the object she left on the smithy's workbench before looking back at the bag of coal. "Some customers stopped at the smithy last night, inquiring about having some pieces made. Javelin heads and crossbow bolts. There is also an idea Jay and I wished to discuss with you regarding the smithy's roof."

"Work detail's favorite was 'Unloading Steel Rails,'" Bob answers Jay with a smile but nods at his given example. "Imagine you hear yours more among the navy men," he winces involuntarily thinking of boats and the water. He braces his arms against his hips and straightens before bending back. "... all sorts out there."

A look askance at Nemori has him nodding again, "Easily done." He walks over and takes the handles on the hopper, leaning down and into it to get the task done before his strength leaves him entirely. "What are your plans for the roof, IC? Keep in mind it's a rental..."

The bluejay nods several times, "I heard it at the docks, yes. Yes! Oh, put a ladder up to the top, then I could glide halfway to the Tornmrar. Slix could too! The distance I can get from the belltower at court is amazing, but it's up the mountain in the noble quarter."

Nemori gets behind the cart to assist with pushing, though it's certainly not a fair distribution of the load. Regardless, she is the assistant. Between pushes she speaks, doing her best to avoid having the sounds come out as grunts. "There was a thought of somehow possibly harnessing the heat from the forge to create something of an updraft, as well, though I admit such design is outside of my education."

GAME: Robert rolls Knowledge/Engineering: (10)+12: 22

"I don't see any problem with having a ladder on hand for you kids," Bob nods, already thinking on the mechanics of flight. "Tossing a hinge on the flue shouldn't be too difficult," he's thinking and eyeing the underside of the roof as he scratches his stubble.

"Careful about coming down from the mountain that way," the Cerenzan muses, wandering to grab up his shovel so he can secure the coal in the locking crate. "The courts might consider you a flight risk."

He starts shoveling.

"Oh! Yes, an updraft is a great idea." Integrity concurs. The 'C' is for concur.

"A flight ris.. oh! Ha! I get it." The bluejay laughs, "Seriously it's an interesting flight, looking down on everyone, seeing the rooftops. Is there an extra shovel?"

He finds an entirely too small one to assist with.

Nemori does not join in the shoveling. No doubt because there's simply not enough room with both the men doing that work. No other reason. Instead, she retreats to the desk, shifting her stool so block the view of the disk she's working on as she reaches for the file she set aside earlier. The slow scraping of the file being applied is mostly lost in the sound of shoveled coal. "I told Zofija and.. the other one was a halfling named Ravendar.. that I was not yet capable of filling their orders myself," she advises Robert. "Perhaps soon," she adds, perhaps making that a little bit of a question.

GAME: Robert rolls Craft/Weaponsmithing: (1)+4: 5 (EPIC FAIL)
GAME: Nemori rolls craft/weaponsmithing: (15)+2: 17
GAME: Jay rolls craft/weaponsmithing: (12)+2: 14

"Soon," Bob agrees with a nod between the shrrkt and clatter of the shovel spearing the sack's contents and dropping it into the chest, his face half-hidden behind a handkerchief mask. "Tomorrow?" He glances over. "Watch one. Do one. Teach one." A familiar mantra.

He keeps working, his prodigious sweating returning almost as soon as he has the first shovel load delivered. "I've flown... thrice," he thinks aloud with a glance at Jay. "Twice on deployment and once... once leaving Dragonier." He pauses for a half-beat and then empties the shovel into the box. "Lost Dragonier," he corrects himself.

"I'd love to find a way to fly with the artifice," he muses, turning back to the work. "Maybe the book Cod and Shuf found for me will have something."

"Well, couldn't you attach a huge hot air balloon?" Jay suggests, then quickly adds, "Not that you're full of hot air, but that seems to be how airships get about. You could be like a little airship, that is all your suit being the basket, and add some propellers."

He waves his wings, and spins a hand in a circle, "and, you could... inflate the bag with artifice, or a small stove. What's the watched, do, teach, about?"

"A part of the instruction process, Integrity," Nemori answers for Robert, her back still turned, putting aside the file. The last thing she reaches for is a small pot and a rag. Polishing cream. She dips the rag into the pot, then begins rubbing it on the disk she's been working on. "I am to watch him do it. Then attempt it. Then attempt to teach it as a means of reinforcing what I have learned." A pause. "I am uncertain I would trust such a thing to carry me through the air."

It's good that Nemori is busy with her work; she probably wouldn't appreciate the look of paternal affection and pride. It's an easy thing for him; a familiar rhythm to fall into. His shoulders bob and he exhales in an almost-silent, one-beat laugh as he considers the his mul'niessa housemate.

It's a brief intermission and he puts the musings aside as quickly as he does the shovel, patting Jay on the shoulder to stay the younger man. "The size of the balloon and amount of air you'd need to lift me and the titan armor is... impractical," he grins. Then he takes the only half-full bag and lifts, up-ending it over the crate to dump it out now that the weight is far more manageable.

"Besides... you kids have set the bar higher than that--" he grins, wide, and gets something of a mad look in his eyes-- "I want wings."

"You can't have my wings!" Jay says, snapping his wings in tight. He clacks his beak, "You could model off them though. Take some measurements. Oh. Oh! Oh!"

Integrity stares intently at Robert, "you should measure Slix's. She can stretch them. She could make them huge! That'd be an amazing model!"

Nemori pauses her work when Robert mentions wings. Very deliberately, she uses the rag to wipe any residue off of her fingers, then turns to the left to look at the pair over her shoulder. Dubiously. Probably not at all reassured by Robert's expression. "You will make sure you include in your instructions to your next of kin that I am permitted to remain a lodger in your house when you die and pass it on to your family, yes?" Her glance at Jay very much tries to say "Don't encourage him."

"Of course," Bob sighs, tossing the empty sack back into the caddy. "Contingent on your becoming Wodeleah and Olodagh's godmother and helping to look after them in my absence," he counters with a playful smile offered Nemori's way at the mention of his eldest grandchildren. "The third one, too, name-pending."

The blacksmith snags up his shovel again and uses it to shift and level out the coal, clearing the top so the lid might close again. "How's your project coming?" He finally asks of the woman.

The Cerenzan then turns and offers Jay a knowing smile. "I imagine I could have you describe them in flawless detail, IC. You two seem joined at the hip of late." He drops the lid and hoists the shovel up to hang from a hook. "I hope that's all going well."

The bluejay shakes his head vigorously, "Oh no, we haven't, but I have some good ideas of her wing dimensions."

"You're going to be a godmother Nemori? Um..." Integrity clacks his beak, "Are you the nurturing sort?"

Nemori looks almost horrified when Robert mentions the idea of godmother. A small part of her mind is telling her that perhaps it means something else here than it does at home. Her old home. Her no-longer home. The gaze switches to Jay, turning from horrified to bordering on incredulous before she quickly averts her gaze again, turning to focus on her 'project.' "I believe I will simply have to ensure you keep on living for the time being," she finally says, grabbing the rag once more to give the disk one last, furious polish.

"You haven't what?" The Cerenzan asks of IC with a bit of a puzzled expression. "On second thought: nevermind. I don't need to know; I simply meant to say you've been spending a lot of time together." He's found a rag and he's wiping his hands now. "And that's good; I like her. I know she likes you. And I like you with her, IC." There's a pause to consider the underside of his nails and then a bit of digging. "Take your time and get to know each other... see if inspiration strikes." He looks up and smiles an encouraging smile. "These things don't have shortcuts. Not any good ones, anyway."

He drops the rag into a bucket and crosses the forge, moving around the anvil, a stool, and a standing post to take up a perch near Nemori, looking over her shoulder. "The kids are set for guardians, lady Nemori. I was only teasing." He's deeply interested in the thing she's working on.

Integrity nods several times, "I will, will!" As Robert's attention turns towards Nemori's project, he shuffles to the edge of the smithy, "oh! I should go, and give you some privacy!"

"See you soon!" The bluejay squawks, and heads off down the street.

"Good night, Integrity," Nemori calls to him, all too aware now that Robert can see her project once he announces his position by speaking. She freezes momentarily, then slides the disk to the side so he can see it better while at the same time turning further away.

It is a disk of polished bronze. Having used an etching tool, a wreath-like design was drawn all around the disk as a border of sorts. It's not very detailed; Nemori lacks an artist's touch and working with metal like that is in many ways more difficult than working on a canvas. Or perhaps it simply takes more time. Within that border another design was made, a deeper, troughlike line of curves and sharp corners. Charitably one might call it representative of a flame. A copper wire has been carefully pounded within that groove.

"I am not happy with the colour contrast," Nemori explains, her back still turned. "I was also unsure of the proper technique. But I had thought perhaps you might forgive its faults. It is.. the best I can do for now. And I know how you often like to praise Vaire. I thought perhaps you might hang it somewhere."

Bob sits quietly for a time, blinking down at the mul'niessa's work. He reaches for it and stops, considering his dirtied hands and issuing a frustrated noise. The big man shifts, digging around in his pockets until he can flip open his pocket square and pick up the disc and look at it closer. There's a laugh bracketed by quiet scoffs and then he speaks with mild reproach. "Lady Nemor'i...

"You've taken to this craft... so quickly," he grins wide as his words fall short. Light floods the space when he looses his torch, the enchanted stone floating up into the air above his shoulder to further light the space. "This is marvelous, genuinely. I can't believe how quickly you've learned." He blinks again and lightly pats the woman's back. "Don't turn away from your work, lady, and promise to leave me some customers when you decide to open your own shop, please."

Nemori snorts disdainfully. Rather than do as he suggests, she gets off of the stool after the touch and moves to one of the far walls, looking out into the district's street. "It is barely more than a child's work, Robert. Handing that in to a teacher in my home... my old home.. would have earned the student a whipping. Your method of teaching, it is difficult to understand." A pause. "And a whimsical piece of non-functional 'art' is a far, far cry from being competent at this craft."

"No," Robert agrees, tempering his enthusiasm and sitting back, turning to follow Nemori's movements. "They won't be handing over the keys to the Enclave for this but give yourself the credit you're due. Five days ago you were struggling with nails, lady Nemor'i." He balks at the notion, glancing down at the object in his hand. "Five days!"

The Cerenzan stands and pauses, groaning at the cramp in his leg. A steadying breath later he's taking a wide path to walk into the woman's line of sight without getting much closer. "Damn your old taskmasters and their impossible standards; this is a marvel." He holds up the icon, still swaddled in the rag to protect it from his dirty fingers. "The road is long and this proves you can walk it. Someday you'll be a master and the world will tire of me telling it that I had the honor of walking those first short steps with you."

"You mis--" But Nemori is cut off as Robert holds up her work. And despite her claims of the substandard result, it's plain to see she knows just how much effort she put into it. Her jaw clenches. She tries again. "You misunderstand, Robert. I was often the one holding the whip." She wants to look away. Recognizing that, she scowls, forcing herself to look at the man. Forcing herself to see his judgement. Daring him to pass judgement. The unspoken words being, 'I am unkind. I am cruel. Never forget that.'

A part of her recognizes that this was an unfair thing to say to the large blacksmith. Particularly in this time, this place. After handing him the gift. It possibly speaks to the elf's own confusion about things. She opens her mouth to say something, lets out a breath, then says something else. "You must never leave me responsible for your grandchildren. I know you were teasing. But this must never happen."

Bob stops and looks down at the gift. He wraps it up in the cloth and eases it into a pocket as he draws in a deep breath and lets out a sigh.

"Lady Nemor'i... I don't remember my father," he levels his soft-but-unwavering, honest gaze at her. "I have a sense of him-- a feeling. That's all but I know he loved me and he surrendered his time on Ea to make sure my mother and I survived our ordeal here almost fifty-years ago." He turns, looking around the tradesmen's district as if trying to reconcile the current Alexandria with the dark stories of its past. "My mother was an equally-kind woman who entertained my every fancy and supported me in anything I did. I had countless aunts and uncles among the Tsura who watched a boy with no talent for it sing and dance until he turned hoarse and fell over." He grins fondly at the memories.

"Those pieces went into a forge and made this man," he taps two fingers to his sternum. "You didn't have those pieces. I don't expect your life to've forged you into something similar." He shrugs, still holding her eyes as he takes a step closer.

"You're in a new place. You're meeting new people and finding new pieces. You're assembling those pieces and making hot the forge."

The big Cerenzan scratches his stubble and issues another heavy sigh. "I'll never leave my grandchildren alone with the person you are now," he agrees with a nod. "But you won't be that person tomorrow... or the day after... and maybe some day you'll be a woman that I trust with my grandchildren."

He smiles, faintly, and takes another step closer. "More importantly, I hope some day that you trust yourself."

Nemori continues to stare defiantly. Not entirely sure why she keeps revealing these bits about herself when it can only jeopardize what little standing for herself she is slowly building, she is all but telling the Cerenzan to wipe his hands with her. Walk away for this good of himself and his family. Confirm that this path isn't going to work.

Nemori continues to stare, confused. Robert's counter to her venomous revelations are not at all what she expected. Perhaps not what she hoped for. As her eyes begin to glisten suspiciously, she admits.. perhaps it is what she hoped for.

Nemori continues to stare, pleadingly. It's not there yet, but the idea of a place being almost in reach. A place that might in fact fit. Her hands clench upon the flat top of the half-wall, her thoughts betraying her. Painting a possible future here.

Nemori presses her eyes closed, hanging her head. The suspicious glistening turns into wet cheeks, jerking shoulders. If it's an act, it's a damn good one.

Bob turns as he takes the last step, doing his best to stifle the groan as he sits on the wall next to the mul'niessa. It's been a long day; he's tired and more than a little sore. Still, he wears his comfortable grin and looks at his tiny little smithy with all the contentedness you could hope to find in this world.

The big blacksmith doesn't reach out for his apprentice. He doesn't pull her close and hold her tight like he has the bouncing bluejay egalrin so many times in her presence. The red-skinned Cerenzan sits close instead; another support pillar jutting out above the short wall.

"Watch one. Do One. Teach One." He adds after a lengthy pause, still smiling. "Muse' grace, lady Nemor'i."

Nemori doesn't not, doesn't move other than the shaking shoulders. For a few minutes anyways. She's aware of his presence, how could she not be? But she is quiet. Eventually she reaches a bare arm up to wipe at her face, her eyes. Then she uses the heels of her palms to press against her eyes tightly, as if trying to squeeze the need to cry away. Then she straightens and nods, firmly. A few shakey breaths and she's clearing her throat. "Watch one. Do one. Teach one." Her voice doesn't quite break on the last one. "Thank you, Bob," she says. Then more forcefully she adds, "I will clean up here and lock up. It will possibly take another hour or more. If you wish to leave that to me."

"Many hands make for light work," Bob responds, planting a hand against a post and pushing himself back to his feet. "Besides, you might have to carry me part of the way..." He laughs at his own joke and sets to cleaning up around the smithy.

Nemori clenches her fingers around the wall's edge again, then makes them relaxes as she nods and does her best to compose herself. She doesn't say anything further; she already said too much, tonight, as far as her opinion goes. But she works diligently, doing her part in ensuring the forge has cooled, the tools are locked away, the paper work is filed. Trying not to think of what she'd have to do to carry the big man home.

Bob's Flying Machine'
https://www.games-workshop.com/en-GB/Endrinriggers-2017

A terrible day for Rain
https://i.kym-cdn.com/photos/images/facebook/000/385/569/36d.jpg