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<Markuran> "What do you wish to make, Zahara? Swords, knives, arrows you said?"

<Zahara> "Arrowheads for Cerin, knives for myself and possibly Birds. I imagine you would prefer a khatar?"

<Markuran> "Or a cestus, something like that."

  • Zahara nods and lays the red-metalled dagger on the table. "Here is the original." then she unsheathes a second one, this time of orichalcum and diamond and sets it next to the first. "And this is my modification. I could not duplicate the metal, nor the effect completely, but this design should be sufficient for our purposes."
  • Markuran runs a finger along the metal. "What is this?"

<Zahara> "Careful.. that is one of the new Magical Materials that Cerin wrote of in his treatise."

  • Markuran shakes his head slightly..."Well. To work, then."
  • Zahara traces a certain line down the length of the dagger, "This is the most important part, here, see? It contains the Essence channel. Whatever else, do not make a mistake on this, or it may end you."
  • Markuran nods slightly. "I see the paths of the metal, Zahara."
  • Zahara nods and opens a chest full of diamonds, and a second one full of orichalcum.
  • Zahara retrieves one of the diamonds and inspects it for flaws, then sets to work shaving shards off of it precisely, using the structure of the diamond itself to guide her strokes.
  • Markuran remains standing as he begins work, meticulously hammering the Orichalcum into its proper shape, slamming the sun-gold metal again and again with a hammer carved from the bones of a Gemlord, given freely in return for a favor long ago. The musical tones of the diamond anvil sing sweetly as Markuran works. The tiny fire-rats that inhabit the coals dance joyously as Mark allows them to play with the waiting sun-metal.
  • Zahara continues to work, shaving the seemingly unbreakable stones into slivers of glass, to embed into the edges, with a fine chisel and small hammer. The tap tap tapping of her hammer marks counterpart to Markuran's song. Slowly and steadily, a pile of razor edges grows before her
  • Markuran breathes heavily and quickly darkens his light tan tunic with the sweat his labor produces. Despite obvious discomfort, the big man does not remove his shirt as he almost always has when crafting in the past. He works all the harder, ignoring the heat. The fire-rats in the coal pit chitter gleefully as the leap and gyrate wildly, turning the gold metal brilliant white as Markuran's hammer-blows shape it slowly into a thi

The fire-rats in the coal pit chitter gleefully as the leap and gyrate wildly, turning the gold metal brilliant white as Markuran's hammer-blows shape it slowly into a thin knife

  • Zahara pauses in her chiseling long enough to get a second handful of diamonds from the chest. "You seemed to take Cerin's news well." she notes, rolling the jewels around in her palm.

<Markuran> "It seems the two of you have already dealt with it. There is nothing to be alarmed over." his bass voice shows no sign of the strain of his work

  • Zahara nods, "That is good. He was concerned about telling you, since you have been known to..overreact to things in the past. I'm glad you didn't this time."
  • Zahara lines the diamonds up on the table in front of her, and sets to chiseling again.
  • Markuran scratches at the day's worth of stubble he is allowing to grow for a moment. "I am trying."

<Zahara> "I can tell.. you've been much more pleasant to be around since our chat. I hope that my words have been less harsh to you as well." *tap tap tap*

  • Markuran nods slightly, intersperced by loud, musical bangs. "You are a considerably smaller lightning eel since then.
  • Zahara laughs

<Zahara> "Thank you."

<Markuran> "Must we use the diamonds?"

  • Zahara arranges the diamond shards in little sets. "Their hide must be pierced for the effect to work. Do you know a harder or sharper material?"
  • Markuran shrugs. "I wished to know if they were required, not mere decoration."

<Zahara> "In the.. vision? that Ssithumi showed me, they were armed with diamond-tipped arrows. I assume my prior incarnation knew that it would work against the Aalorai."

  • Markuran nods then. "If we must, we must. The diamonds can be endured."

<Zahara> "Do you dislike working with them?"

<Markuran> "Not in general..but it is not important."

  • Zahara raises a brow studying him for a moment. "Except to you?" she suggests

<Markuran> "They are required, it doesn't matter."

  • Zahara decides to let it slide for the moment, in the name of harmony. She seems to be in a much better mood lately, especially since the last trip to Rathess.

<Zahara> "So what kind of penance requires you to dress warmly at the forge, and.. shave?"

<Markuran> "A rite of humility and face."

<Zahara> "For the incident with Birds?"

<Markuran> "For letting lightning eels nest in my pants."

  • Zahara nods solemnly, "Does it work?"
  • Markuran shrugs. "So far. The eels are not breeding, nor biting my jewels.'
  • Zahara cringes. "Please, the metaphor is starting to make me ill."
  • Markuran smiles slightly. "You have a weak stomach for one who chains Abyssals to walls."

<Zahara> "There's just something about eels. Abyssals aren't slimy."

  • Markuran pauses work to scratch at the soaked fabric covering his chest. "You can set Birds of Trinity's weapons now, Zahara. They are finished with the roughwork."
  • Zahara takes the daggers from him, and sets them on the table, securing one in a vise so she can concentrate on the detail work. She uses a fire-enchanted wand with a precise tip to melt the Orichalcum enough to set the diamonds along its edge, and to carve the appropriate runes into it, saving the Channel for last.
  • Markuran starts hammering away at Cerin's arrowheads, the work going much faster as he simply roughs out triangles for Zahara to give blades. "And your weapon will be?"

<Zahara> "Swords. Slim-bladed to pierce armor."

  • Markuran nods. "Very well. I"

<Markuran> I'll finish these 20 arrows. Then the swords."

  • Zahara nods, continuing her fine detail work, "Cerin may need more than 20 arrows, he tends to shoot them several at a time." she ponders, "I'm not sure if we'll have enough of *anything* to be honest."

<Markuran> "He can recover them at need. We have no more sungold."

<Zahara> "No, he can't recover them at all, if they hit."

<Markuran> "Then he will have to be careful. There is no more gold."

  • Zahara sighs, and nods. "I don't like these Aalorai."

<Markuran> "We have not met them yet."

  • Zahara toys with the finished blade in her hand. "I once knew how to defeat them, but I don't remember, now, in this Age."

<Markuran> "Pray for the memory and it will come in time."

<Zahara> "I hope so."

  • Zahara sets the weapon down carefully and moves on to the next.
  • Zahara proceeds through the pile of weapons, when she gets to her swords, she stains the blade with her own blood before carving the channel, as she sends a prayer up to the Unconquered Sun, "Guide me.." she whispers simply.

Tags: (:tags Red Knife, Essence Feedback:)

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