The Eye of Anubis: Book Six

[Nathan of the FoS]

Having made his apologies to Miss Collins and caught up with the group at the smithy, Charles arrives just as the orrery is making its appearance. Unlike Khalil, he approves of the orrery immensely and studies it carefully. "Ah!" he says. "And all the outlands moving in their spheres...I wonder how the craftsman decided to place them. Oh...is it yours, m'sieur? I mean, did you make it? It's exquisite."

As he catches Lia's warning he positions himself to block the dwarf's line of view, inwardly fuming; even if the dwarf doesn't see the evidence of this latest display of paranoia, it's at least possible there are other literate people in Kermanshah. Still, he turns his attention to the dwarf rather than to his clockwork marvel, to see if he can't get a bead on the craftsman's motives.

Sense Motive 17. Not enough, I'll wager, for a bead on much of anything.

[The Whistler]

Otto "tsks" slightly upon catching a glimpse of Lia's warning.

And there's also a chance that this is a dwarf with a serious knack for detail work, and that that "work of the mind" comment is a combination of creative turn-of-phrase and the difference between Mordentish and Tepestani. What's that expression about probability and a razor, again?

...Then again, how many times has that expression been proven *wrong,* these past few months?

The gunsmith didn't examine the orrery *quite* as closely as he normally would have.

"Wunderbar...even in my homeland there are rarely things such as these... The etching on the gemstones..." He looked up with a small grin, meeting the dwarf's eyes. "Are you sure there is not some Lamordian ancestry in you, Herr Stahlrheim?"

The gunsmith cast his eyes over the rest of the wares, exploratorily. "And this thing is a reassurance, as well, as I am sure that if your skill is great enough to create it, it shall also be so for more practical items. As I have said earlier, I am in the market for bullets, of magical enhancement--of the flaming or sonic properties, in particular, perhaps twenty-five in each. Might this be a thing you may create, or have on hand?"

[NeoTiamat]

Ivor's Smithy, Kermanshah, The Kermanevar, Sebua
June 23rd, 761, 12:52 PM; Day 98 of the Menetnashte Expedition
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


[OOC: Rock, it looks like a pretty good, if old, examination of the basic tenets and beliefs of the Akiri pantheon, with a mild bias towards Osiris.]

"This..this is utterly fantastic. I mean, I've seen them before..but the workmanship on this is positively exquisite. Can you alter the movement speed, or does it show a constant progression?"

In answer, the dwarf cranked the little indent in the sandalwood box faster. The orrery sped up, the golden sun making its rounds roughly once a minute.

"On it's own, it clicks along with the turn of the sun, but it can be sped up to see what you need." The dwarf patted the box with his free hand. "But I mislike moving it faster than a day a minute, for its bad for the springs, and it takes the shadow's own time to fix if something goes wrong."

"Truly. I wonder how you ever came to be here, in the Kermanshah of Sebua, when such skills could have made you a rich master craftsman in just about any part of the Core."

"Pshaw!" The dwarf snorted, sending ripples down his snowy beard. "It is not in the selling of the thing that you find craft, but in the making of it. I make my little trinkets, and I sell them for enough to keep me at making them more. What'd I do with wealth? Is not a thing but a distraction and a waste of time, from the making of the thing. That's what I aim to do, and Kermanshah is quiet enough to suit me."

"That is impressive," the priest said, "How long did it take you?"

"Ah!" he says. "And all the outlands moving in their spheres...I wonder how the craftsman decided to place them. Oh...is it yours, m'sieur? I mean, did you make it? It's exquisite."

"It's mine, that be true." The dwarf grinned, proud as a father. "Took me a year or three, belike, though not all in a go. It is something I tinker upon when bored or lonely over the years, a labor to keep old Gnaw-Bone at bay."

"Wunderbar...even in my homeland there are rarely things such as these... The etching on the gemstones..." He looked up with a small grin, meeting the dwarf's eyes. "Are you sure there is not some Lamordian ancestry in you, Herr Stahlrheim?"

"Anything is possible, Herr Schultheiss, in this old world, anything is possible." The dwarf's blue eyes twinkled in the noontime sun.

The gunsmith cast his eyes over the rest of the wares, exploratorily. "And this thing is a reassurance, as well, as I am sure that if your skill is great enough to create it, it shall also be so for more practical items. As I have said earlier, I am in the market for bullets, of magical enhancement--of the flaming or sonic properties, in particular, perhaps twenty-five in each. Might this be a thing you may create, or have on hand?"

"Aye, it can be done. I keep lead pellets for the quick forging of trinkets and things, it shan't take me more than a quick turn of the sun to have what you need. Lead is quick to make, and magecraft is in the air all over, so belike I can have what you need by supper time. This suits?"

The dwarf placed the orrery reverently on a side-table, leaving it open. You guessed that some arrangement of clockwork and springs kept it moving, for the tiny arrangement continued to turn, a day passing in a minute.

[The Whistler]

Lead is quick to make, and magecraft is in the air all over, so belike I can have what you need by supper time. This suits?"

"Certainly, sir." Otto nods briskly. "I shall be awaiting the results, and anticipating good ones, yes? Thank you."

[Rock of the Fraternity]

Lia returns to the shop of the mage of the oasis. "Good day, sir," she says as she ducks her way into the tent and fixes the man with her patented basilisk glare. "I felt we should ... talk a bit. I am in the market for two spells, which I hope you might provide. Are you familiar with evocations known as Resonating Bolt and ... Palin's Pyre?"

[Kaitou Kage]

The priest watched the dwarf put down the orrery, then waited for Otto and Ivor to finish their bargain, then spoke up quietly.

"Can I ask you a question?" he said, "Do you talk to the priest or the wizard much?"

[lostboy]

Khalil watches the dwarf carefully, although trying not to look like he's watching the dwarf carefully. There was somethign wrong, something amiss here, something he couldnt quite put his finger on. Something the dwarf said keep repeating in his mind, Is not a thing but a distraction and a waste of time.

True enough he thinks the craftsmanship of the dwarf is all too distracting. The desert guide was about to open his mouth and ask the question they came here for when Kuzan beats him to it. Instead he returns to watching the dwarf, although the ticking of that thing was distracting, and provokes a paranoid reaction Lia would be proud of within him.

If the mechanism is so delicate why leave it running? he wonders with mounting concern. Although he restricts this concern to an intense look he flashes towards Charles and Kuzan, inclining his head between the dwarf and his trinket when the dwarf isnt looking of course.

[Nathan of the FoS]

You guessed that some arrangement of clockwork and springs kept it moving, for the tiny arrangement continued to turn, a day passing in a minute.

A day in a minute...

Charles catches Khalil's eye and nods. "Oh, don't risk damaging it on our account!" he says politely. Crossing to where the orrery rests, he turns the mechanism's key back to its ordinary rate of passage. "It can be equally appreciated at its natural rate of speed, I'm sure."

[Rock of the Fraternity]

As Lia stands talking to the mage, suddenly something seems to ... click in her mind. Words fade to the background as her mind's eye surveys the valley, as seen on the map Charles bought.

'Beneath Song, Beside Life...'

Lia's eyes widen as she realized. 'In the desert, water is life. So, at the shores of the water near the Singing Spire! I've been blind!'

The vision darkens -- then brightens. 'When Death meets Life...' Yes. The sun chasing the moon. The day, dying and being reborn. And when do the dying day and the new day meet?

"Midnight."

Lia almost does not realize that she has spoken out loud, until Grimmric stirs in her hood. "Yes," she says absent-mindedly to the mage, "that will be fine, you do not need to wrap them at all. Goodbye."

Slowly at first, but gradually faster, Lia makes her way back to the rest of the Expedition until she is running. "I've figured it out!" she calls to the others at a distance, waving her cane. "I've figured it out -- the place we need to go, and the time! Quickly, quickly!" She beckons to the other members of the Expedition. "No time to lose, no indeed not," she whispers, mind whirring away already.
'Last time she gave us a clue, she sent us to those Phase Spiders, who eventually led us to an enemy wizard,' Lia thinks as she readies herself to answer questions and dissuade doubts. 'What waits for us this time ...?'

[NeoTiamat]

Ivor's Smithy, Kermanshah, The Kermanevar, Sebua
June 23rd, 761, 12:57 PM; Day 98 of the Menetnashte Expedition
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Charles catches Khalil's eye and nods. "Oh, don't risk damaging it on our account!" he says politely. Crossing to where the orrery rests, he turns the mechanism's key back to its ordinary rate of passage. "It can be equally appreciated at its natural rate of speed, I'm sure."

"Careful there, sproutling." The dwarf said mildly. "If you break it, you buy it, else I'll tan your hide."

Something about the dwarf told you that he was not being metaphorical.

"Can I ask you a question?" he said, "Do you talk to the priest or the wizard much?"

"Javed of Osiris, I've never been too fond of, for he's a cold fish indeed." Ivor shrugged. "But Bahadur's I meet often enough, for he casts the spells I need for the crafting of trinkets of magic and metal. He's a useful man to know, that he is."

[Nathan of the FoS]

"Careful there, sproutling." The dwarf said mildly. "If you break it, you buy it, else I'll tan your hide."

"Of course!" Charles says, bowing. "Caveat emptor, and all that. Not that I would be averse to owning such a thing. Not at all! Still, transporting it hither and yon would derange the gears sadly, I fear...it's so delicate, isn't it? Truly a gorgeous piece, Master Smith, I don't wonder that you should be jealous of its well-being. I would be very glad to discuss a more practical purchase...I believe M'sieur Schultheiss mentioned bullets? And I would particularly like to find a cold-forged iron dagger, if you have such a thing...my own went missing a few months ago."

[yalenusveler]

The discussion of things that people needed suddenly set off a moment of remembrance in Andre's brain "How long would it take you to do a piece of armor? Something light of course...my chain shirt was a casualty of a fire, and I'm rather tired of being the soft and squishy target." He winced, and then heard Lia running up like a woman possessed.

"About how long do we have? And that's pure genius, Lia. High marks, certainly high marks!"

[Kaitou Kage]

"Have they always been so tired and apathetic?" Kuzan followed up his last question, "They both seem exhausted, like they don't have any desire to live anymore."

[DocBeard]

Dwarves are always metaphorical. They just take their metaphors seriously! It makes perfect sense to Tomas, which may explain why it doesn't make sense to sane, reasonable people.

He's still fascinated, having knelt down in order to more carefully examine the device-not daring to touch it, but moving with the practiced delicacy of someone who grew up living in a watch shop, just drinking the whole device in.

(OOC: Rolled a 24 on my crafts Clockwork roll. Just generally being in love with the giant clockwork calendar. Just looking for significance, I guess-Tomas is, after all, something of an agent of fate.)

[NeoTiamat]

Ivor's Smithy, Kermanshah, The Kermanevar, Sebua
June 23rd, 761, 1:05 PM; Day 98 of the Menetnashte Expedition
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


"The chainmail shirt, that be easy enough to do, for I've a half dozen right here. Just choose a one to your liking, they're of loose-enough fit that we can find something that'd suit even your tastes." The dwarven craftsman noted. "As for a cold iron dagger.... that be trickier, much trickier, for there's no demand for them and they take a while to forge, a while indeed. I can craft one, belike, if you want it desperate, but it'll take several days at the least."

"Have they always been so tired and apathetic?" Kuzan followed up his last question, "They both seem exhausted, like they don't have any desire to live anymore."

"Young one, by the time you've been dealing with humans long as I have," Ivor said with a small smile, patting his snowy beard. "Then you'll know that human's change their mood all the time. A mercurial folk, they are."

Then the jovial dwarf became more serious.

"The other fact is that it be a bad thing to be too curious in the Wastes. People here take privacy more than a little seriously, they do." Ivor shrugged. "They've been quieter than their wont, but I'm not a one to pry."