The Wyvern's Nest

[Rulgak]

A large but otherwise nondescript building lay tucked within woods where the land began its gradual climb up into the mountains. Within the front doors was a room much smaller than the building itself, holding an array of equipment and weapons laid upon shelves and racks/ At the opposite end of the shop were the swinging doors that lead to the smithy beyond, with all the carefully crafted gear in an open display before it, designed to best beckon patrons to part with their coin.

“Stirrups? We may have some in the workshop, Madam. Allow me to take a look.”

A squire was further present in conversation with a customer, having been stationed there by Rulgak with much the same aim. Though the Wyvern’s Nest was a smithy born of specific purpose to ensure the knights were suitably equipped, such equipment had an unavoidable cost to craft. Costs were paid by profit – which had been steady enough to maintain the materials needed for such a sizable workshop.

“Do be quick about it. I’ve much more important matters ahead of me.”

“I shall search with haste.” Spoke the squire, with cordiality that was mere obligation.

Taking her leave from the customer, the squire pushed beyond the heavy wooden doors that kept the shop separate from the smithy. Beyond was a flurry of activity carried out by the craftsfolk within. The clanging of the hammers, crackling of the forge formed a cacophony was the backdrop to footsteps of countless workers carrying gear and material from one station to the next.

“Almaric? Have we any stirrups by chance?”

“Yeah, there’s a few here. Let me check..” Replied Forge Master Almaric. Both walked over to the shelves which held an assortment of items that could not be counted as weapons or armour. After a few minutes of searching, Almaric could find none.

“None. That F.N.G was supposed to be working on those!”

“Um....“

“...The, uh, new guy.” Almaric specified, partially. “I’d better get a jump on this and sort him out.”
He added, turning to head further into the workshop in search of the poor, new soul who needed correction.

Without the stirrups, the squire returned to the store to deliver the news

“I’m afraid we have none today...” She said. Not that the glaring noblewoman was accepting it.

“Yes I overheard! Who is this Effen Jee!?” She howled.

“...Pardon?”

“Effen! Who seemingly can't make stirrups!”

“There is no Effen...”

“I care not for your protectionism! EFFEN!! Come out here!” The noblewoman shouted, but none would answer.

“Um...Effen’s not a name, madam...”

“Then what, pray tell, is it??”

“It’s jargon.”

“For what? What are you trying to organize behind my back? What does it mean? Tell me! Now!” The noblewoman prodded, receiving only silence from the anxious squire.

“Tell me now, lest I take this to the proprietor!”

“'N' stands for new.”

“Why did you start there? Tell me what it all means or else!”

“...It's quite uncouth.”

“Stop dodging it and say it!”

“F.N.G means fucking new-” the squire stated, stopping upon noticing the ghastly expression on the noblewoman's face.

“Of all the!? How DARE you accost a noblewoman with such foul language!!”

“Madam, you asked...”

“WHO RUNS THIS PLACE?! TAKE ME TO HIM, NOW!!!” Bellowed the noble.

As if on cue, the heavy workshop doors creaked open as Rulgak pushed past them.

“What’s the problem?” Spoke Rulgak. The noblewoman paused in disbelief for a moment.

“You run this shop?”

“..Yeah.” Spoke Rulgak in her steady stoic tone that failed to convey the annoyance at being slighted with such a welcome.

“Your addlepated brat of a saleslady assailed my ears!”

“Yes. I overheard.” The poor squire could only look on nervously.

“...And? What do you think should be done about this!?”

“Next time....” Rulgak uttered, with a thick grey finger pointed towards the shop’s front doors.

“Take the fucking hint.”

“...Well I never!”

“Agreed. You won’t. Get out.” She concluded, already pushing beyond the workshop doors again.

@Euphemia Martell

 

[Euphemia Martell]

It had been too long since Effie had managed to get visit the blacksmith. Rulgak had been such help to her over the years since she'd discovered her new sight. It had been hard learning to fight when all she could see was the glow of a person, the weapon like a void in their hands. She'd received many a bruise from the blunted training swords as she worked at learning to read movements of her opponent's body over that of the sword itself. Something that was a lot easier said than done, but this was the first time Effie had felt like she could be more than her condition.

She'd wanted to feel more confident in her skills before she had went looking for a sword of her own. Instead, it had been an off-handed comment by one of the knights that had gotten her thinking and brought her to Rulgak's doorstep the first time with a nervous anxiety to request a way to help her see her weapon better. Perhaps a spare for her opponent that she might be able to connect sword movements to that of muscles. Against enemies, she'd have to be able to read their movements if she couldn't see their weapons.

The end result had been phenomenal, more than she'd ever dared hope. The new swords had helped her improve in leaps and bounds. It became easier to learn to match the muscle movements with that of the sword now that she could see the weapon as it swung toward her. From then on, if Effie needed anything relating to weapons, she asked Rulgak first. She was just walking up toward the smithy, when a woman dressed like a noble stormed out in a huff, nearly running the young knight down. A hastily made step toward the side was the only thing that saved her.

Brushing a hand through her hair, the woman dressed in simple garments today with a cloak about her shoulders to ward off the chill of early spring stepped into the building. "She seemed none too pleased." She said by way of greeting as her milky eyes turned to look back in the direction the woman had stormed before she looked back at the two figures in the front of the shop each with their own distinguishing glow of shroud.​

 

[Rulgak]

“Rulgak, I really tried to...”

“Doesn't matter. Nor for that one.” Rulgak remarked, pausing for a moment at the entrance before she turned back once more. "You did good." Came the simple words of affirmation. Emotionless, yet a high compliment from the stoic orc. Rulgak seldom spoke without purpose, and compliments from her were well earned, telling much despite the brevity of their content.

It was now that Rulgak noticed the addition of another within the shop – a young, brown haired woman who could only be Euphemia, who had already turned around in witness of the noblewoman's spectacle.

"She seemed none too pleased." Euphemia remarked as the door closed shut behind the ejected customer.

“Nobles don't like not getting what they want.” Rulgak mentioned.

“...well, I don't much like those ones back.” She wryly added. Still, the matter remained that they should have had the stirrups in stock. The squire had done well to seek them out, the fault lay elsewhere. Rulgak had a mind to resolve the matter herself, but the sight of a hastily moving apprentice under the direction of Almaric was evidence that this issue was already in the process of correction. Almaric hardly looked pleased, no doubt, because this could reflect poorly on him. The Wyvern's nest could be tough on a smith, and often stressful for one just learning the trade. Mediocrity was far from acceptable, for Rulgak's standards were high. It was one of the main reasons she had been held the position of head blacksmith for so long in the first place.

Time would tell whether this new one could keep up, but that was a matter to be tended to in the future. For now, Almaric had a handle on things, which left Rulgak to tend to the knight who'd just arrived.

“Syr Euphemia.” Rulgak hailed her in typical and toneless greeting.

“What do you need?”

@Euphemia Martell

 

[Euphemia Martell]

Effie unclipped the sword from her belt, holding out the scabbard and weapon to the smith. "Mostly just coming in to have it sharpened." The knight too great care of the blade on her own, but every once in a while she liked to bring it in to be cared for properly by a smith. "I think the shroud magic might need to be upkept a little as well?" The question in her tone as if she wasn't really all that sure. She understood the basic of the sword's development that had given it that glow in her vision, but she didn't know enough on her own to fully understand the process of what had gone on to create the weapon. "It's starting to be less visible."

She hoped that Rulgak would be able to take a look at the weapon to see what might be causing the dimming. For all she knew it would be something simple, like reapplying the shroud to the runs carved along the blade or it could be something much more complicate. "I'm not in any kind of rush. I should be at the monastery for the next few days at least." She always had the back up weapon. The one that she'd used to learn and train with if she had to go out before the weapon was returned.

"I also wanted to perhaps discuss another idea, not for a weapon, but for something a bit more mundane yet would be helpful all the same." It had been suggested by some of the other weavers that she learned from that perhaps it wasn't that inorganic material didn't contain shroud, but that it contained less than organic material. That with practice and training, she wouldn't need to have a spelled sword to help her see and she was willing to figure out a way to help strengthen her mental eye.​

 

[Rulgak]

Rulgak peered over the offered sword, taking the weapon with a firm pause before lifting the blade to her eyes. The edge was visibly worn down, though the condition wasn't too terrible. There was no disagreement that the blade warranted a resharpening - it was simply good maintenance, and a suitable point on which to do it. Rulgak raised an eyebrow at the inquiry, before setting the weapon on the table with her gaze still upon it.

"Let me check that." She plainly stated, rummaging around for a tool made for just such a purpose. After a brief search, Rulgak retrieved a walnut-sized glass bauble from a bin. It was round and hollow, filled with a thin-flowing ointment in which bits of gold and silver leaf had settled. Though the metal was inorganic and inert towards magic, the ointment itself was not, and could cause the metal flakes to stirr once energized. Rulgak dabbed the narrow end of the device in a tin of tree-sap to prime it for use.

The contraption was among the simplest magical items made. All that was required was the flow of magic, upon which the minute pieces of foil within would stir in accordance with it's strength. The sap itself was chosen for its properties from a particular tree, one known to leech magic and used for just this purpose. Diluted before use, it would allow a tiny amount of magic to flow free and stir the metal foil within.

Undiluted, it was effective at scrubbing unwanted magic from gear.

As Rulgak moved the bauble down the blade, little happened at first. Then, the flecks of metal stirred as if bumped, before swirling around in a subtle but unmistkable motion. Rulgak moved the bauble back, as if expecting to have seen something more.

"I'd say so." She simply concluded "Gonna take longer than just resharpening." Rulgak added.

"I'm not in any kind of rush. I should be at the monastery for the next few days at least." Said Euphemia. "I also wanted to perhaps discuss another idea, not for a weapon, but for something a bit more mundane yet would be helpful all the same." She added. As the bauble demonstrated, not all magical enchantments served a combatative purpose. Many did not, and there were many other ways in which magic might assist a Knight.

"How so?" Came Rulgak's simple yet sincere inquiry.

@Euphemia Martell

 

[Euphemia Martell]

"It is a strain, both physically and mentally, for me to keep up the spell for my sight long term. At the monestary, it's not that big of a concern as I've long since learned my way around and can use my cane to help as well. However, out on patrol holding the spell too long can lead to debilitating headaches and the cane is just cumbersome for horse back. I was hoping that maybe you could help by designing something that could fold up and perhaps hold my sight spell. If the spell part isn't possible, something foldable would at least help alleviate some of the problem." She finished.

It was likely a tall ask, but she would be happy with whatever small help could be given. Or perhaps if there were even two devices, the cane and something that could be infused with the spell so she could hold or wear the object and see without having to cast and maintain the spell.

Effie knew that Rulgak was quite capable, so if anyone could come up with a solution or even multiple solutions it would be the Orc woman. "If there's anything I could get to help with the process, materials or whatever. Just let me know and I'll do my best."

 

[Rulgak]

“Fold up? Then not a staff or sceptre. Rulgak thought aloud in her usual stoic tone. Both items were the ideal choice for the requested purpose, consisting of a long conduit fit for weaving magical energy, often capped with an infused stone acting as the source. Either was the ideal vessel to hold a spell, but neither could be considered remotely compact. After all, if the cane had proven so cumbersome that Effie had come in search of a better solution, an even heavier object would not be any more suitable.

Rulgak paused silently in though, bringing her calloused thumb and forefinger to her chin. Had Effie arrived with a request for something complicated to enchant, there would be few alternative options, if any. Her sight spell was by no means simple, but neither was it terribly complex. It would be simple enough to enchant a small sceptre, though that still wouldn’t be compact or small enough to suit Effie’s needs.

“A challenge. But not impossible.”
Rulgak commented, reaching out to an array of gems laying on an oaken shelf on the wall. These served to hold magic within them, and there were many to choose from, with plenty small enough for the purpose, but Rulgak had further considerations to contend with. A small and potent arcane gem carried high value, both strategic and monetary. Resources were ample enough to supply the knighthood, yet still could not be squandered. Issuing a compact gemstone to Effie would mean one less to use later for a potentially critical purpose.

Beholden to frugality, a different solution would need to be looked into first. Rulgak selected a gemstone from it, the faces of the sea-blue crystal shining the light. It could contain the magic with ease, yet was still too bulky to be suitable.

“Too bulky.” Rulgak uttered, placing the stone back upon the shelf. “But it’d work.

She continued to search the smithy for a few more moments, looking for something that might be more ideal. It took a bit of time before a journeyman noticed the activity.

“Whatcha looking for?”
He asked.

“Something portable. And enchantable.”

“More than those?”
The journeyman gestured towards the same shelf that Rulgak had recently searched.

“Some of it could work. If needed. Better were it more economical.” Rulgak replied.

“What about the quartz coins, Syr?”

“Quartz coins?” inquired Rulgak. They were thin and flat, and also much more thrifty for the purpose. Quartz was not terribly rare, unable to hold more powerful magics. But for Effie’s spell, it was the ideal conduit.

“Haven’t seen them in ages. We still have ‘em?”

“I know I saw one a couple days back…”
Spoke the journeyman, his hand to his chin in contemplation as he tried to recall where.

After some rummaging around, Rulgak withdrew a translucent white disk. It was about half the width of her little finger, and about the size of her extended palm.

“Shall we have a look?”

@Euphemia Martell