Heathen
I wanna be the Messiah, Pariah
The one who never dies

Heathen relished in the theatrics of it all, chuckling as the Collector settled back into their usual tone. "Quite the light show." It was a compliment, as much as he could give one. "Very effective. I will have little trouble finding this 'Shadow'. He practically scoffs at the self-appointed name, eager to tame its obvious ego. (Ironic, isn't it?) He watched the flames shape and morph themselves, committing it to memory. The Forum... How fitting.

"No surprise, that the one before was not strong enough." He returned the smile. "Facing a god is no easy task. Killing one? An even harder task, but nothing impossible." Little was impossible to the big cat, at least not as far as he was involved. "I will heed your warning, of course; I will not make more trouble than necessary." He nodded, a slow dip of the head as he began the journey to the Blacksmith. He paused, only to laugh at the idea. "You've CHAINED it?! Oh, what a simple task you have given me, Collector! Consider it done! What a pleasure it has been, to meet you."

Notes:

Heathen
I wanna be the Messiah, Pariah
The one who never dies

And so he was off with a flick of his tail, further into the cave and up towards the Workshop he had been pointed toward. It was less of a walk than he thought it would be, but the heat made it feel ten times longer. Centaurus and Hydra were hot and dry, but Leo? The humidity was wearing his patience thin. He wanted to ask his questions and get on with his business, gift or no gift. Perhaps the Blacksmith also spoke in future deals, and ones less taxing than his brother's.

"Hello?" He called out as he approached, still a few steps from the entrance. He hoped that the Collector was right, and that he would not have to make this journey a second time. He had much more pressing things to do now than to solve the mystery of the Dreamer, as even a cat's curiosity was overshadowed by the promise of a treat, so to speak. A garden, of sorts, caught his eye as he got closer. More sand than plants, carved into patterns around stones. Heathen wanted nothing more than to roll in it, just to see its neat lines blurred into chaos.

He turned his attention back towards the entrance, taking in the sights of the Workshop from the doorway. Speaking of chaos, it was... controlled chaos. Bits and bobs, metal scraps and tools were not so much scattered about as they were placed in categorized piles. The floor was clean of ash, and Heathen was a bit taken aback by the sight. In truth, he was expecting it to look much like the Underforge and it's many forgotten benches. It was almost welcoming, if not for the damp in his lungs.

Notes:

The clang of a hammer was the sound not of it being used, but being set aside, perhaps in response to Heathen's voice.

A moment later, a black-robed figure swept into view, head lightly tilted in polite curiosity.

The Blacksmith pressed his hands before him, offering a slight bow. His voice came soft and likewise polite, a stark contrast to the rumbling confidence of the Collector, yet with the same precise enunciation. "Hello," he called. "Please, do come in. Are you, ah, looking for me?" And then he'd stepped aside, to make room among that cluttered, well-loved space.

He seemed unaware of the conversation that had gone on amongst the near-hellfire below. Instead, his demeanor was gently oblivious as he asked, "We have met--yes?" There were a few of the spotted feline predators about; it wasn't always easy for him to tell them apart, but stone and magic was a guide. He was fairly certain that, at the very least, this one had been there for the awakening of Centaurus and its Dreamer--but had they met, aside from that?

@Heathen

Heathen
I wanna be the Messiah, Pariah
The one who never dies

Heathen ducked his head in a polite little bow of greeting, in a rather good mood despite the heat, given his recent deal. "A warm welcome, thank you." He smiled, sauntering in without hesitation as room was made for him. He glanced about lazily, in truth trying to catch a glimpse of what the Blacksmith had been working on prior to his arrival. The curiosity of cats, and all.

"In passing." He shrugged, as much as a leopard could, settling onto his haunches. He hadn't known the Blacksmith in person, but rather through rumours and his vision. He was familiar, though. Perhaps from the Dreamer's awakening? There had been so many faces there. "But I'm here to change that." His smile was easy, almost genuine. "Do you remember every item you smithed? Surely not, but at least the important ones?" The leopard's head tilted slightly as he waited, patient as he could be. He sounded genuinely interested, but allowed the question to fade out - there was more to come.

Notes:

The Blacksmith stood quiet, hands gently pressed together before him, his head tilted very slightly. Otherwise, he was unmoving, every aspect of his body language indicating polite and genuine attention to Heathen and his words.

As for what he'd been working on, there were several hammers and anvils laid here and there. But the large anvil to his right, the one he'd stepped away from, held a number of metal buckles between four and seven or so inches in width. It seemed he'd been shaping them, or correcting faults, or repairing damage to them--something of the sort.

"I would like that. I do enjoy visitors," he smiled, in response to Heathen's assurance that they would now undergo a proper introduction.

Ahh, but his question-! The Blacksmith blinked behind his mask, leaning back a little. He was silent a moment before he spoke. "A very good question!" he assured. "I had not really... considered it, before," with a pause for breath mid-sentence. "Please remember I have existed... on a time frame that would be... likely difficult for you to imagine. At least... I assume so," he amended, eyeing Heathen. He wasn't sure Heathen was one of the creatures that had emerged only since the Great Awakening, he could not be certain, and such assumptions would be rude. "But I think... yes, most things I have created... I would remember. The important ones," he agreed, with a nod. "Maybe even... the rest. Why? Is there something in particular... some creation... that you are trying to research?"

His words were bright with interest. This was promising to be a fascinating visit!

@Heathen

Heathen
I wanna be the Messiah, Pariah
The one who never dies

Heathen almost purred, or perhaps he did, a low rumble from somewhere deep in his chest. The Blacksmith's eagerness for company, his company, was more than enough to stoke the fire of his rapidly growing ego. He studied the buckles, items unknown to him, before finding a polite seat nearby. "Allow me to introduce myself properly, then. I am Heathen, and I hear you are The Blacksmith? Do you go by no name?" He probed gently, not one to fight his nature, leaning into his need for knowledge. Would the caves forget his name when he became king, or would his name become synonymous with his title? More questions than answers, always pushing him further towards his goal.

Heathen's smile grew, musing about his interaction with The Collector. Were the two brothers that different? What a shame. It was rude to speak so soon again, but his mouth opened before he could care to stop it. "Ah, but I am so interested in your crafts. By all means, don't let me stop you from working while we talk, I am eager to see you work if it would not trouble you." He gestured with a gentle paw towards the anvil, lava-light shining in his wide eyes. It was truth, and was said as such, nothing more than a big cat wanting to witness the miracle of thumbs.

Notes:

The Blacksmith shook his head. "I am known mostly as... The Blacksmith. That is all right," he added. It was not dismissive; rather, he seemed to simply accept that this was how both knew him. He might have elaborated, but now he was glancing back at his work, thinking.

"I was not doing much that you might find interesting, but perhaps... I could show you something? If there was a... hmm. A certain type of work... that you wished to learn, or see?" It was an offer gently given, his head tipping to one side as he peered amiably back to his visitor. "In any case, it is good to meet you, Heathen. I have... tea, if you wish it," and here he gestured back at a small table with chairs set into a little alcove set up as a kitchen. "But--please, do tell me... what were you seeking information on?" This, too, was no demand: more an invitation to return to whatever had brought Heathen here to begin with.

@Heathen

Heathen
I wanna be the Messiah, Pariah
The one who never dies

Heathen seemed to accept that, silent eyes watching The Blacksmith drift over ever so slightly. He pondered the idea, wondering what kind of knowledge he might be able to take from this encounter. One could not work metal with paws, could they? "Tea would be nice." He decided, wanting to settle in for a proper visit after all. He wanted to ask his burning questions first, even if they might lose him the chance to learn the art of heating metal. Was it truly so gruelling a task?

He stood again, waiting to be led to wherever The Blacksmith might prefer him. "I shall ask you what I've come here for first, then. No need to keep you waiting." He nodded, moving on for now. "I've been to a new cave. New in my eyes, but perhaps not yours." He seemed to look through them now, thoughtful. "Did you craft the chains that bind The Dreamer?" He paused, licking a paw as if it was nothing more than talking about the weather. "Some think to free him, you see, but without knowing why he was gained (woops, chained) in the first place? Well, that could be quite the disaster." It trailed like a question, a gently prying tone that begged -- No, Heathen did not beg. He... requested. Suggested, even -- for answers.

Notes:

The Blacksmith had barely turned to lift the kettle onto a small hot stone when Heathen explained why he was there.

The kettle almost toppled from his grip; he fumbled it, then placed it carefully atop the plate, and went very still. He did not turn back to Heathen, for a moment. Instead, at length, his head bowed just a little. "Yes."

Hands moved now automatically, lethargically, as he retrieved a cloth-wrapped pinch of leaves and placed them into the kettle, which at once began to gurgle. He turned to face Heathen, his tone sad. "So it is open, then-? Yes, I forged them. By necessity--by demand. Command," he amended, and then gently shook his head. He seemed to stare off into the middle distance for a moment, thinking.

"As for why he was... 'gained.' His purpose is to... change Centaurus. He is linked to places... far from here. He wanders the stars. And he Dreams. He gives these Dreams to his Shapers, and they Shape. Centaurus is a... place of training, you see. And as it is Dreamed and Shaped... differently, each time. It makes for good training. The Hounds who come there... They do not know if they will face a desert or a swamp. Mountains, or a canyon. A barren moon. You see-? But that is... the only reason he is chained. To keep him there. So he may Dream."

It had taken him a moment to slowly work his way through all of that, and he turned back to the hissing kettle, setting down two cups (both beautiful porcelain, one with old cracks that had been repaired with threads of shimmering gold) and poured the tea in. "I do not know if... Dreaming, Shaping... is even needed, anymore."

He set the kettle down, and brought the teacups over. He sat, pushing one lightly toward Heathen. "It needs a moment to cool."

@Heathen

Heathen
I wanna be the Messiah, Pariah
The one who never dies

Heathen did not dare to speak as The Blacksmith told his tale, not wanting to shatter the fragile moment. Not even to correct his mistake, as irritable as it made him. Gained? Had he really said that? Ah, but perhaps it is what he meant after all; to be chained is to be owned... but by who? The leopard let the thought free for now, muscles stiff as he feared even the slightest twitch might overstay his welcome.

Command. Training. Hounds. The words rattled about in his head, little meaning to them aside from the obvious: power. Someone had ordered this, once. His attention drifted to the kettle occasionally, watching the process as he chewed on his next words. "How very creative." He decided on, thinking back to how the cave had shifted itself around those who had gathered. It was the kind of power he wanted to be capable of. The kind of power he knew he must hold, however hard he must work to unlock it. "There must be use for it still, seeing beyond what we have seen." His voice was gentle, even, leading. "Could he shape other places? If he were allowed? Is there any... command," The word fell heavy from his tongue, and he tried to catch himself by taking a sip of tea, "-still left to keep him there?"

Another sip, ignoring the still-too-hot temperature - what was one more burn to his sweat-caked fur? He would already have to bathe the moment he left this molten mess of a cave. "This is delicious, Blacksmith, forgive my rudeness. This is your home, after all, or at least your... shop? I should be more considerate." He savoured the tea a little more this time, enjoying its slight bitterness. Perhaps he'd ask how it was made when more pressing matters weren't on the table. "Do you think we should release him?" His gaze was strong now, silent and steadily focused on The Blacksmith. That was why he was here after all, to know why this Dreamer was chained, and even more so... could his power be used in other ways? Ah, but The Blacksmith's answers, unsurprisingly, left him wanting more. What power could have possibly commanded such a task? "Can the chains even be broken?"

Notes: