The Royal Artificery Society - IC II

[WindStruck]

"I don't know how common it would be. But I suppose I couldn't be the only one," Shandara says.

"Perhaps they might go about under a guise of an illusion to hide their identity all the time. But surely that would be difficult and expensive. I'd think someone who was that skilled and well off might be content with their life and not bother trying to leave though..." she shrugs.

"That's the problem.. I was a failure and felt like I was in eminent danger. Even, even my mother.. tried to..." she chokes, holding back tears.

"Don't you see, Aiden? If I was stronger.. I probably would have stayed."

[MrAbdiel]

He considers Shandara’s words. Aiden is a simple sort of man; not possessed of bone-deep foolishness like some, but simple enough that he has been stripped of presumptions about his knowledge of complex matters. His language is built of seems-to-me and well-I-thought-maybe; and this tentativity is in his tone as he grapples with Shandara’s confession.

“Well… maybe so. It seems to me it depends on what one takes ‘stronger’ to entail. Down there, the strongest might be the one who… is least moved by suffering, and least fearful of pain. I’m not sure there’s much use for that kind of strength up here. But what’s true for certain, what you and I know to be the case, is that there are thousands of drow happy, or at least willing, to live and work in that awful business even with no shortage of threat to their lives. And only one I know who scrambled up into a world of… of suspicion and strangers and tries to make a life dealing fairly with the people she was raised to trade as livestock. Without presuming to minimise anything in your past, Shandara… it might be fair to cut yourself just a little slack. You’ve come a long way.”

[WindStruck]

Where normally Shandara would have felt fear about revealing the personal details about her past - fear of judgement and reprisal - in Aiden's presence, she felt guilt more than anything. But the man showed more compassion and tolerance than she thought any reasonable person would have. Shandara took his words in like a suffocating person receiving a breath of fresh air.

"You're right," she says, her gaze lifting upwards towards a myriad of carved figures in a corner of the room. "The past is what it is. For all the suffering I've caused, indirectly or not, whether it was under my control or not.. I know I still must have benefited people here as well. Perhaps one day it will balance out. Or more."

"And maybe I was weak there and strong here. But that.. all those notions - weak and strong - don't matter. What matters is.. is.. I don't know..." Shandara looks at Aiden again and says, "I'm just happy to be here." Though she still didn't really look all that happy, honestly. Perhaps more at peace if anything.

"Now then.. what was your secret you promised?" Finally, a small smile upon her lips betrays some inner solace.

[MrAbdiel]

The carpenter was silent, naturally, as Shandara found the grip she needed to begin working out her own salvation, or something near enough to it. He could hardly pronounce the answer to the question that trailed off - what matters now - but the fact that the enchantress had turned to ask it, and to seem comfortable now even in not having the answer immediately, was the best reflection he could have wanted for her.

Another delay hung in the air after her question - time to honor that small smile, perhaps the first of its kind he'd seen from her. Then his thoughts catch up to the question queued for him to answer, and his gaze slowly deflects left, to the walls with their myriad divine agents.

And then he tells her, just as promised, a secret he has told no one before.

"Aiden Sorveaux is not my name, Shandara. Or... It is; but it's my name because I gave it to myself when I was first ..."

His gaze deflects to his calloused fingertips, and he traces the pad of this thumb over them as he seems to contemplate the best language to describe the experience.

"...When I was first incarnated. I am not.. in disguise. This is not a false life; it's a genuine one. But my first nature is not human; it is Celestial. And my first name is not Aiden Sorveaux; it is Sorvariel."

His drawl, his languid country manner, doesn't go away during this 'confession', but it does soften some; the edges on his words sharpening up a little like a soldier's posture straightens instinctively at the trumpet call. Blue eyes glance up from his hand to Shandara again, hunting across her expression for reaction.

[WindStruck]

Shandara tilts her head somewhat and stares at Aiden with a scrutinizing half-squint. "A Celestial?" she murmurs curiously.

"How does that..? Uhm. Okay..."

Now she really wasn't sure what to think. But surely this secret wasn't as damning as hers, that was for sure.

"Why were you incarnated?" she asks. Though she wasn't sure if Aiden was making this up, or.. more likely was delusional in some way.

[MrAbdiel]

Confusion was a fair response to hearing such a thing, he decided. His smile flinched art the corner of his lips slightly, ambiguously,

"I am - was - " He pauses again, eyes glancing up as he sifts through language again. Am is not right. Was is not right. But there happens to be no tense within Common that corresponds to was, is not, will be - The Once and Future Perfect Tense. He settles for was, close enough.

"...I was an angel whose domain of care was joy, Shandara. For long and sacred ages, I hunted and fought in the outer planes against creatures and schemes that would intrude on the simple wonder of mortal joy. After a certain deed, my peers elected to reward me with a wish - and I asked to be given the opportunity to live a mortal life. Thus, I was permitted to put aside my nature and become incarnated for time. I wandered out of the forest into the village of Tantamere, relied on hospitality, and put myself to work serving the people there; first in their militia, where I met Ambrose, and then soon in crafting, and making music. Things I made eventually made their way to Vaungate, and I received an invitation to join the Royal Artificery Society soon after. That's my entire story. I have only had this life to enjoy for a handful of years. It's an explicit gift - I try to honour it as such. I know it's not a secret like yours, Shandara. I'm not sure what would happen if it were to get out. Perhaps I'd be treated like a harmless madman, or quietly expelled from the Society as an embarrassment. But I have only told you, and you are my friend, so I don't worry about such things."

The carpenter's eyes shine in the gloom with wetness; tears not quite shed, but held back. How long have they been there? Have they been forced up by Shandara's more harrowing tale, or shaken out of him by some unspoken aspect of his own bizarre confession? Like many things about the man, the answer is not clear. But he does smile, warmly and reliably, at the Drowess.

"I'm very glad that you and I are such friends."

[WindStruck]

Shandara listens, quite mystified by the whole explanation. "That is.. quite the tale.."

"So.. you still remember much of your past life, or past self, I assume?"

She looked around at all the countless wooden carvings in the prayer room and somehow, it all seemed to make sense. She wondered if Aiden was regretful of that decision to live a mortal life, or if he was just.. fixated on something.

[MrAbdiel]

Aiden squints a little, and gives a slow shake of the head; a negative gesture with a mild mitigation.

"I remember... enough to know what I was. What my part in the tapestry of things was. But much, most, of my recall was surrendered to make the incarnation possible. There is a relationship between knowledge and power that is clearer from that side; and I know I had persisted for many ages, seen many places, fought in many battles. Those things were functions of what I was, more than... anything I had earned, or made of myself. And a mortal - a mortal life is a mixture of that which you are handed, and that which you grasp for yourself, in various proportion, isn't it? I could hardly live a genuine life if I... remembered how to do my miracles, for example. I could hardly live as a man if I remembered what it was like to watch the gods groove out the mountains, and weep to make the rivers, and call men, and elves, and dwarves up from the clay and the wind and stars. And the flaw that pervades many celestials is the inability to appreciate creation in its particulars, rather than its wholeness. Aiden Sorveaux knows that the boys I met, Cliff and Markel, are right now in the barn behind the house painting the name on the boat I helped them fix, thinking about the fish they're going to catch; and that Maria is in the next room preparing dinner, conscious about how she might look when when you or Xavier meets her. Aiden Sorveaux gets to dream about the next instrument to make, or whether or not I should try to make a dress like the one that Lady Orlof wore, since it was so striking to me, and what store might sell it on my behalf. Sorvariel could not commit himself to those thoughts and dreams - not with all he can see about the evil in the hearts of men, and the need to do this or that for my cause and kindred. I don't remember most of it; but I remember enough. I remember that I remembered. It's like having a...." He touches his temple lightly with two fingertips, tracing them there in a half-moon. "As if there is a door within me, behind which is a vault which I know contains the rest of me. It's not locked, but I know to open it will be the end of Aiden Sorveaux. But I remember some of it - enough not to... spoil me, maybe. Some of the sublime places. The music. The faces I knew. Does that... Make sense? If I knew less, then my life would be... more dishonest than it ought to be. I might make promises or commitments that I would not be able to fulfil. If I knew more, I could hardly be said to have lived a man's life at all."

[WindStruck]

"It's like having a ..." Aiden said.

'Delusion?' Shandara thought. Hrm.

When he's done, she says, "I really don't know what to think, Aiden. It seems.. very far fetched, if I'm honest..." Maybe he really used to be an angel. Maybe he was just a bit crazy. If it was the latter, why was it that she seemed to be attracted to the crazy ones? She sighs to herself, and makes a mental note about this 'Tantamere'. Maybe one day she might find this village and ask people about him.

"Maybe the truth of it doesn't matter either. Though it goes without saying.. none of these secrets should leave the room. And if we're lucky, they won't have any bearing on our daily lives in Vaungate."

A rap on the wall near the door frame indicated that Xavier had returned, or was just about to.

[MrAbdiel]

He makes a little puff of an unvocalized chuckle.

"Of course. I know what it sounds like... But all the same, it feels good to tell someone."

When Xavier makes himself known, Aiden lets the conversation round off into silence. He wonders, just for a moment, if he has made a mistake. Trading one secret for another struck him as the best way to honor Shandara's vulnerability. Now he wondered if she found his words so incredulous it burned away some value from his reception in the first place. No matter. The drowess had composed herself, and perhaps equipped herself better to confront the things that haunted her next time. That would be enough for him.

"Well, you're both welcome to stay for dinner. Or... Breakfast, as it might be. It's still a half-hour away. If you're feeling steady, we could try our luck just a little on that spiritwood for you while we wait."

[WindStruck]

Shandara looked behind her as Xavier approached again. "Ah, of course.. that sounds.. lovely," she says, turning again to almost knock over her forgotten teacup. She now picks up the cooling implement and gives it a sip.

"Hm, where did I leave that thing? Downstairs?"

[MrAbdiel]

He puffs an nonvocalized laugh as he rocks to his feet... and quickly downs his tea in one draw of the cooling beverage.

"Yes, indeed. Let's see what a little creative magic and a little elbow grease might produce..." He offers the drowess a hand to rise from the recamier, and to leave the strange prayer room behind; the secrets spoken there in the care of the mute divinities whose multitudes attend the altar.

Spoiler: OOC: 'Sperimenting!

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Alrighty, DeTess. Looks like Shandara and Xavier are staying for Dinner/DrowBreakfast, and spending a little time either side of it in the workshop with Aiden poking at the spiritwood. With the transparency spell, and with his modicum of experience playing with the tiny pieces of wood and preserving their crystal integrity, Aiden's planning to try splitting off lengths of the wood along the grain as an alternative to cutting. If that doesn't seem to work, he's forced to try cutting/carving. Shall I hurl dice at you?

[WindStruck]

Shandara goes back downstairs to retrieve their neglected belongings. Luckily, it seemed no one had dropped by the store for the time being to pilfer the spirit wood. Though even if someone did arrive, it would be unlikely they would know what the chunk of wood was or how much value it had.

When Aiden is ready, Shandara says, "Remember, we'll try to preserve the most prominent crystal veins in full. But for now, see what you think of this." She will cast the divination spell on Aiden and bemusedly watch him as he manipulates an object that has become mostly invisible to himself.

[MrAbdiel]

"Oh, wow... That's so interesting. I've never..."

Aiden fusses and goggles offer the transparent wood with that kind of ultrafocused, preconscious obsession that professional specialists sometimes get. He runs his fingers along the top of the now invisible wooden block while his eyes track the curls and and twists of crystal within.

"It's... So interesting. This pieces is from a limb near where it joined the trunk, probably. You see that all the major veins of crystal run top to bottom, and curl away a little to one side? That's... Well, I'll bet that's them curving toward the ground. Or... more likely, they start in the rootbulb and then a new line of crystal slowly pushes up into the wood, following the line of the other veins until it finds a limb to grow into. It might be easier to think of the wood as a host creature and the crystal growth as another thing entirely. Wow. Because there's nowhere in the piece where the major up and down veins jumble and merge, see? They twist by each other sometimes, but they're like... well... veins. They're all coming out from a central location and branching and bundling. I'll bed in the stump of each spiritwood tree there's some kind of... of big, crystal nugget, or... organism, or source. Maybe a cavity where a spirit lives, and the crystal is just the corporeal bleed, you know? But they don't merge. And they don't... seem to knot, terribly. That's good for us."

He fiddles in a draw and produces a block of chalk, grinds it a few times against a strip of sandpaper, and scatters the chalkdust on the top of the invisible wood so the powdery layer reveals a ghostly map of its texture. Then he grabs a nice, polished, quarter inch chisel and wooden mallet, and begins speculatively tracing the chisel's tip over the wood. More than a score of times, he lets the edge of the chisel fall into a groove of the grain, presses it in ever so slightly, gives it a wiggle... and seems unsatisfied with whatever tiny fragment of tactile information this gives him. Then, on the twenty second try, his eyes light up. Without even tapping with the mallet, he gives the chisel a little bit of downward force, and a a faint woody 'pop' sounds in the air.

He has never looked more like a praised dog, wide eyed and grinning. "Watch this..."

And it is possible to watch it because the wood is no visual barrier. Without even the mallet to strike, the chisel sinks with minimal force, slowly and smoothly, until three inches of steel are imbedded in the wood. And with one hand on the block, one on the chisel's handle, careful not to damage tool or medium, the country carpenter applies a little lateral leverage, and part of the spirit wood pops free with a spritely clatter across the tabletop. It quickly becomes visible, alienated from the core of the spell; a length of wood peeled off from the side of the block, with a counter clockwise curl. At the top and bottom of the rod, on its flat little sawn off ends, are the visible terminations of the primary vein within. Down its length, speckling the pale golden rough wood's interior side, are the spotty little clusters where smaller crystal capillaries have detached necessarily.

He gives it a quick once over with some medium sandpaper, wipes it clean, and offers this first spiritwood wand blank to Shandara.

[WindStruck]

Shandara picks up the piece of wood that was split off and examines it. She wonders just how much crystal is in this particular piece of wood...

[DeTess]

A thick vein of crystal seemed to run down the centre of the piece of wood, perfect as base for a powerful wand.

[WindStruck]

"Ah, this is most excellent! I think this particular piece is quite suitable for a wand indeed. All we need - er, I mean you, I suppose - all you need to do now is sand it smooth. But I'll worry about this piece later," Shandara says.

"Try getting some more pieces, and splitting the spirit wood however you can while the spell lasts. Personally, I would not mind wood without prominent veins either. I think all the pieces could be potentially useful. Although.. I suppose I wouldn't mind if you had other ideas..."

[Prehysterical]

The Royal Artificery Society Archives

It all made Bolten's head spin... Ironically, he'd tried to stay as far away from this sort of magic as possible. There always seemed to be the potential to go wrong... but what other choice do they have? The timetable Aiden describes is more akin to a deathmarch than a deadline! The very books he has been reading showed the folly of mortal schemes done within a season's breath.

The idea of extraplanar travel seems interesting... Potentially dangerous, but interesting nonetheless. His mind imagines a tunnel being opened in the stone wall separating this reality from others and using that to transport their precious cargo. Of course, this would be the one time they would want to collapse the mineshaft behind them... Gods only know what might follow!

That said, one needed familiarity with the local stonework to excavate safely... All right, I'm letting this whole mining analogy get away with me, Bolten muses. Returning the books to their proper shelves, Bolten makes for the Fernhal Courier Association. Perhaps if his stubby legs move quickly, he can find their house of operations before they close for the day.

They need all the information they can get. Bolten wouldn't send Aiden somewhere he wouldn't go himself.

[MrAbdiel]

Aiden chuckles a little. "I think I've made the item I most wanted to. I thought about making tools - there's a lot of tools that are very useful, but very expensive to enchant, see - but that fell apart on me. The Ironwood spell they use to make wooden armor and weapons works to add strength, weight, and fire resistance to wood; but metal tools need a certain amount of flex, and to hold a finer edge and to be sharpened simply, and a deal of properties in metal that just aren't in wood; and not in super-hard woods, like Ironwood or our friend Tundra Oak. No, there's some things you just need metal for and that's that. So let's see how many blanks we can get from this thing..."

Spoiler: OOC:

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Aiden will split and cut the wood into as many blanks as that 51 buys us for Shandara's use. Later, during the sanding, he'll make a little jaw of the sawdust with its wood and crystal mixture and keep that for her as well. Priority is wand blanks, then leftovers (probably with only minor veins), then dust.

[WindStruck]

Shandara shook her head. "I don't think you would get much value trying to make this wood into tools either. Seems like something this size would be best off being more decorative, or perhaps.. given the size of this piece, bolts for one of those small crossbows that fit in a single hand..."

"But yes, it so happens that the dimensions of this piece of wood would be perfect for wands, actually. Speaking of what to do with the wood.. our promise to Mr. Dunfen was.. hmm. He wanted to 'advise' his clients on how to work with it. Well.." Shandara chuckles.

"Seems your wood splitting technique works quite well, as I'm sure it would with most types of wood, and I'm sure many experienced woodworkers know of it. However, the little trick with actually seeing the veins surely helps. We could.. say that generally, one wants to keep the crystals intact, and split the wood around them accordingly. But I'm afraid actual use of this spell goes quite a bit beyond the mere friendly sharing of knowledge."

"I could make mention of that spell. But you have to understand, I cannot simply cast it for free for everybody. Often a wizard's services command a price far more than a commoner could make in a month. Although.." she thinks again about the man in the glass shop that helped her free of charge, "There could always be some exceptions."

[DeTess]

the Fernhal Courier compound
Bolten's carriage took him a short distance out of the city. The ride was smooth, the journey taking them over a well-paved main road. Eventually the carriage stopped, and Bolten got out. In front of him was a cluster of buildings, surrounded by a 2 meter high wooden palisade. An open and unguarded gate was in front of him, with a large wooden sign on top with the words "Fernhal Courier Guild" carved in elegant letters.

Within the palisade where several buildings. There was a large, three-story building, that seemed like a living space or main office, and around it were several workshops, storage sheds and other auxiliary buildings. There was also a large stone-walled enclosure, about twenty meters on a side. The enclosure had a closed and sturdy looking gate, facing towards the gate Bolten had just come in through. The stone walls where wide enough for people to walk around on top, and Bolten spotted several people who liked like guards. Curiously enough they were all looking into the enclosure, not out onto the rest of the compound.

The compound was a hive of activity. All manner of artisans hurried back and forth, working on a large carriage parked inside one of the sheds. The carriage was easily twice as large as the one Bolten had come in, with no fewer than eight sturdy wheels. Its sides where armoured in thick wood and steel, and something resembling a ballista was mounted on the carriage's roof, with copious clockwork on the mount and weapon itself suggesting some kind of automated loading system. At another shed several more standard carts where being unloaded of crates. As bolten looked around he saw a richly dressed man, likely a rich merchant or noble, surrounded by what might be bodyguards, leave the main building and head towards the gate. From somewhere behind the main building cam an odd, hooting cry, not unlike that of an owl, but the volume suggested it had to be coming from a creature far larger than any bird Bolten had ever seen. The merchant seemed momentarily startled, but none of the workers of the Fernhal Courier Guild paid it much heed.

[MrAbdiel]

Aiden's smile widens as Shandara chuckles. He doesn't say it, but the observation is clear in the flash of his eyes - he has never heard her laugh before. But he lets it pass without making a song and dance about it.

And he could make a song and dance about it.

"The way I see it, that transparency trick is yours anyway. It seems fair at least to share that keeping the greater veins intact helps. Maybe you can end up doing quick commissions tracking the veins, and marking on the ends of each length where vein 'a' corresponds to vein 'a' at the other end, or something like it. But that's up to you; it may hardly be worth the time. I ought to tell Victor at least about the splitting, at least. Share what you will, according to your judgement. No one could ask more."

Dinner, when served, is a good quality meal - Aiden explains with some pride that Maria, his housekeeper and cook, worked for a very monied family indeed, and he feels particularly chuffed to have her around. It's the setting for the eating that's unusual. The upper floor of the house is smaller than the lower floor, but divided up as it is into bedrooms, bathroom, living space, worship space, and a number of other closed rooms that were not part of the impromptu tour, there's no space given over for a drawing room. The kitchen has a bench suitible for two or three people to sit and eat comfortably enough, but with two apprentices coming in from the barn, two visitors, Aiden himself, and Maria if she was feeling brave enough to join them, the space simply didn't exist. It wasn't the first time this problem came up, however, and a solution had been born from Aiden's creativity.

Stepping out of the kitchen window onto the sturdy shingles of the roof, the carpenter opens a locker bolted to the chimney. Inside are a number of simple but comfortable chairs with legs collapsing on scissor hinge so they can be packed flat away into the locker. Folded put, a comfortable canvas seat awaits a willing rump; but oddly, the back legs of these chairs seem to be much shorter than the front, and the feet of both cut at a slope. The mystery is quickly solved; they set nicely against the sloped roof, flush up to small wooden rail that prevents them from ever risking a slide down the slope. Thus, dinner at the Fiddle and Saw is an open air affair; sitting on armchairs on the roof beneath the early evening sky, with the surussus of life in the district and the calling of the night birds. Elevated from the street itself, some of the 'denser' smells of this less affluent district are abated, and most of the time it's clear, cool evening air and the smell of the meat and vegetables on the serving trays cut to sit across the lap of those watching the Stormdrains wind its way into the night hours.

Spoiler: OOC:

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I'm fulfilled with this scene! Thought I'd give that little capper because Aiden's lack of a dining room was kicking around in my brain, though. Aiden will sand up those wand blanks for Shandara, too - seconding Cliff and Markel to the work, it shouldn't take terribly long and the enchantress will be free to enact the next step in her plan for the wands!

[WindStruck]

The Fiddle and Saw

Shandara nods and says, "That works. Would you be able to tell him all about how to work with the wood, being a wood expert and all? And I suppose you could drop my name again too, saying I developed a spell to help clearly see the veins..."

The dinner meal was nice and all, but the seating arrangements were... not optimal, to say the least. Shandara, being a timid scaredy cat and all, declines to sit on the roof, especially with the setting sun glaring at her. Even with those glasses Aiden gave her, it just made looking somewhere bright barely tolerable, and her skin would still burn. But most of all, she also just didn't trust herself not to be clumsy and fall off. Shandara does, however, try to sit near the window. A compromise of sorts, though still awkward as people had to turn their necks a lot and raise their voices to interact with each other.

"Next time we have a personal dinner together, I think I'll be the one hosting it," Shandara says bemusedly.

- - - - - - - - - - -

Twenty-eight wand blanks was huge, though. Shandara imagined that they wouldn't really need any other magical manipulation or insertion of special ingredients and whatnot. Aiden just needed to smooth them down. She asks if he can do that. She doesn't care if they are a uniform shape or not, just get them pretty smooth and splinter-free. And of course, Shandara does offer to pay Aiden again, or asks what she can do for him as a favor.

Sanding down all the wands won't be done by the end of that evening, but Shandara is more than happy to get them tomorrow or a few days from now. In the mean time, she tries a bit of experimentation creating a standard wand first.

Spoiler: ooc

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Let's say we create a wand and give it 3 charges of Feather Fall.

Might take her one or two days. Does it cost anything beyond like 75 gp?

[Prehysterical]

the Fernhal Courier compound
Bolten's carriage took him a short distance out of the city. The ride was smooth, the journey taking them over a well-paved main road. Eventually the carriage stopped, and Bolten got out. In front of him was a cluster of buildings, surrounded by a 2 meter high wooden palisade. An open and unguarded gate was in front of him, with a large wooden sign on top with the words "Fernhal Courier Guild" carved in elegant letters.

Within the palisade where several buildings. There was a large, three-story building, that seemed like a living space or main office, and around it were several workshops, storage sheds and other auxiliary buildings. There was also a large stone-walled enclosure, about twenty meters on a side. The enclosure had a closed and sturdy looking gate, facing towards the gate Bolten had just come in through. The stone walls where wide enough for people to walk around on top, and Bolten spotted several people who liked like guards. Curiously enough they were all looking into the enclosure, not out onto the rest of the compound.

The compound was a hive of activity. All manner of artisans hurried back and forth, working on a large carriage parked inside one of the sheds. The carriage was easily twice as large as the one Bolten had come in, with no fewer than eight sturdy wheels. Its sides where armoured in thick wood and steel, and something resembling a ballista was mounted on the carriage's roof, with copious clockwork on the mount and weapon itself suggesting some kind of automated loading system. At another shed several more standard carts where being unloaded of crates. As bolten looked around he saw a richly dressed man, likely a rich merchant or noble, surrounded by what might be bodyguards, leave the main building and head towards the gate. From somewhere behind the main building cam an odd, hooting cry, not unlike that of an owl, but the volume suggested it had to be coming from a creature far larger than any bird Bolten had ever seen. The merchant seemed momentarily startled, but none of the workers of the Fernhal Courier Guild paid it much heed.

The dwarf wasn't the greatest fan of carriages, but the half-hour journey seemed to fly by in no time at all. He made sure to pay his driver the full three gold pieces for the fare. There was no telling how long this might take and Bolten didn't fancy walking all the way back...

Whatever Bolten had been expecting, it wasn't this. He also winced slightly at the sound of the unknown beast. Something told him that he was probably better off not investigating the source of the noise. As unfamiliar with his surroundings as he was, Bolten still made the assumption that the merchant was not a member of the guild. Before approaching the main building, however, Bolten's curious mind won't leave well enough alone. He steps closer toward the reinforced carriage, focusing on the siege weapon and its chassis.

Spoiler: Craft (Clockwork)

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(1d20+17)[22]

[DeTess]

the Fernhal Courier compound
From his position next to the carriage Bolten could not make out much more of the ballista's function. There were iron rungs set in the side of the carriage that would allow the dwarf to climb up to the carriage's top, but before he had the chance to do so he was addressed by a dwarf. The dwarf appeared about middle-aged, and was dressed as a smith. a badge on his apron showed the symbol of a carriage wheel with a thorny vine wrapped around it, the insignia of the Fernhal courier guild. The dwarf carried with him a klong metal rack filled with large bolts, likely meant for the ballista Bolten had been admiring. "Can I help you with anything?" the dwarf asked. He did not sound unfriendly exactly, but Bolten did get the feeling from the blacksmith's tone he might be getting in the way of his work.

Streidekker and Sons shipyard
Several days later Aiden once again found himself in the same meeting room where he had held his presentation a month ago. Albert and Mieveur where there as well, as was an older woman wearing a similar uniform tot eh two engineers, though the material quality and fit was clearly a cut above theirs. Her stern face was framed by short, greying hair and her storm-grey eyes had swept across the room, taking in every detail before settling on the blackboard at one end. Albert had quietly informed Aiden that she was none other than Maria Escribano herself, and the two engineers seemed quite intimidated by her presence.

From the shipyards, the elder Streidekker himself was present, as were the designer, Eduardo, and the woman from the calculations department, Emilie. Accompanying them was another man. He was a big and heavily muscled, had a bushy brown beard, and wore a nice-looking short-sleeved shirt, the length of the sleeves seemingly intended to allow the man two show off a particular tattoo on his upper left arm, which consisted of two bands encircling his arm, with three anchors set between them. Unlike the other three he had the look of someone doing the actual work of building a ship, rather than just being involved in the design and paperwork.

Mr. Streidekker introduced his companions. The large man Aiden hadn't met before was called Ulrik, and according to mr. Streidekker he was an expert shipwright.

"Well then, let's get down to business." mr. Streidekker announced after the introductions were done. "This probably won't come as too much as a surprise given the people I brought along, but we have received an order for the Hexfold Recovery System. From the navy, to be exact. So far it's just a single order, but I know several of the larger merchant companies are interested as well. We intend to start construction as soon as possible, but there is of course the matter of recompense to be handled first." He gestured towards Emilie, who took over.

"Our standing agreement with the Escribano workshop for designs like this would be a 5000 gold piece reward, plus contracting the designers in advisory roles, and contracting the workshop for production of any relevant components. Mr. Streidekker is sufficiently impressed by the work that he indicated the reward should de increased to 6000 gold pieces. Is this acceptable?" Emilie looked at the the owner of the workshop who, with a small gesture of her hand, passed the question on to her engineers and Aiden.

[MrAbdiel]

Aiden looks his best for the meeting: his flannel shirt is pressed, its wooden toggles polished, and his whole ensemble fit to present him well. All of this does not stop him from looking a little out of place - his rural sense of 'formal' cannot pass muster in city environments, though the effort he puts in might be enough to invite endearment that forgives the shortfall. He stays close to Albert and Mieveur as they lay out the players for him (those he did not meet at the demonstration), nodding along, feeding back their excitement.

He shakes hands with characteristic enthusiasm, especially when meeting new people - Ulrik has the build to absorb his best, though he restrains himself when it comes to Maria Escribano (if she turns out to be interested in a handshake at all!)

When Mr. Streidekker announces that the navy has put in an order for the Hexfold Recovery System, Aiden has to use all his discipline not to throw his arms in the air and whoop. This was a very important project for Albert and Mieveur, and now their innovations would start to see production. His too. Perhaps more importantly, there were sailors and vessels that would otherwise plunge to the bottom of the ocean that would endure for another day, which had been the sparking drive for the system in the first place.

Oh, and there would be money.

When the sum of payment was offered, Aiden's face may have betrayed an easy sell. He was the kind of man that might have accepted a low ball - but with standard rates to Escribano Workship, with Maria Escribano right there and not interested in being taken for a ride, and with Albert and Mieveur there to confer with briefly to make sure they didn't have any objections, the negotiation would be brief indeed.

"Well, that's incredible. That's just fantastic. I know it's a fiddly design and it'll require some real professional work to fit and float, but the way I figured it, once you've saved one frigate from going under and sent a crew back to the barracks instead of the seafloor, well, it's paid for its own construction just in... ah..." He catches his ramble at that point, and addresses the actual question. "We'll... confer for just a moment, if you'll permit, of course..."

Aside with Albert and Mieveur, in suppressed tones, he gushes for them. "This is grand news. I'm certain Ulrik there will have people capable of handling the basic wrighting of the vessels, but you'll both likely enjoy consultation opportunities for the cranes and engines. I'm more than happy. And six thousand - well, it sounds like a lot to me, and it splits three ways easily. What do you say?"

[WindStruck]

Shandara spends one day crafting one standard wand with three charges. She has to buy a blank but otherwise the materials were covered by the crafter.

The next day she tries enchanting one of her lesser spirit wood wands with the same amount of effort. Experimenting with both wands by casting them on an object and casting it, she finds the first wand has three uses (obviously) but the spirit wood wand casts up to twenty-five times. Amazing! Unfortunately it gets quite burnt out and somehow unusable. But she does think the spirit wood wands are far better for making recharging wands.

These past few days Shandara doesn't really leave her home as it's one of the few times she hasn't prepared windy step or alarm...

After that, though, she plans to meet up with Ulrik once again at the designated place and time.

[DeTess]

Streidekker and Sons shipyard
"I see no issues with the reward or splitting it evenly, but..." Mieveur gave Albert a glance. "That solution with the twinning enchantment for the power source might be the most revolutionary part of the design by a significant margin, not to knock Aiden's or my own work, of course."

Albert smiled at his colleagues consideration, but then shook his head. "I already discussed that invention with the curator, so don't worry about giving me a larger share of the pie for that invention. I'll get another payout for that one straight from the workshop."

"It seems we are in agreement then." Mieveur announced.

A quick round of contracts and paperwork followed. Aiden was provided with a contract stating that he would release building rights of the ship design to the shipyard in return for hiss hare of the reward, 2000 gold pieces, to be send either to a bank Aiden had an account with, or directly to his home if he so desired. The contract had some complicated passages pertaining to exactly what was included in the design, but if he asked about it, he was explained that that had to do with the rights on production of some specific parts of the mechanical propulsion being retained by the Escribano workshop. Everything else in the contract was easily understood and entirely aboveboard.

[MrAbdiel]

A deal is struck, and all are pleased. Aiden is especially pleased to hear Albert will be compensated above and beyond what they have done so far - his work deserves it. Aiden is happy to take a writ of order for the money he is owed to the bank himself, after the meeting; but in the immediate aftermath, while everyone remains in the room discussing the outcome, Aiden finds a moment to speak to Ulrik aside.

"Mister Ulrik, sir, I was hoping you'd spare a minute for me for a matter of fish. See, I'm a man of the wood and hearth more than the wave and sand, most often. And there's these lads I've been helping..."

What follows is another long, winsome ramble about Cliff and Markel; their difficult lot and their ambition to turn the abandoned and busted fishing boat into a revived thing; the process of doing so, and his hopes to steer them, if willing, into a career in ship building if they don't decide to stick to fishing.

"...And they're great lads, see. If they end up making and selling boats like the one we fixed up, they'll do more than just fine, but for now it turns out they don't know a great deal exactly about where to fish, or how to do it. They're just sort of... going after it with good nature and pluck. I wonder if you could give me some advice on where they might cast nets. Do you know a thing about that, I wonder?"

[DeTess]

It was easy enough to pull Ulrik aside. It seemed the man had something to discuss with Aiden as well. "Hmm, I don't know too much about the actual fishing part of fishing myself, but my sister does. She runs a small fishing fleet, so she or one of her people could give these kids some advice. I'm going to stop by the restaurant her husband runs once we're entirely done here, and I can do the introductions if she's there. I happen to also be meeting a friend there who is looking for a woodworker specialized in very precise work, and I was thinking you might be able to help her out, given the excellent work you did on the scale models."