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CYCLE 120Current time: Apr 04 2025, 03:11 PM


[Quest] The Black City - Interlude IN Main Area
 
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#1
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The Blacksmith waited, silent.

Farina was nowhere to be seen. There was only churning water before him: roiling waves, like those of Leo yet somehow more angry.

He had brought the items--though it wasn't time to use them, just yet. He needed the Master's go-ahead, and for now that was not forthcoming. Instead the metal wheelbarrow was pushed off to one side, as high along the shallow, rocky shore as he could get it; and it was rusting, already, along its bottom.

He needed the Gembound to return with that key--the stone, with its mysterious glyphs. He'd looked, and looked--but he had no idea where to find it. He simply didn't know. Farina had expected to find it in Fornax's depths, but somehow it was missing; where had it gone..?

The Blacksmith fidgeted on the shore, the hem of his black robe water-soaked; he hoped one of them found this "key" soon.

_________________


This thread is for those who might gather the "Key" requested here: The Black City: Part II or possibly bring further items Enchanted with Water Breathing--or who missed the first and/or second Black City threads, and want information! It takes place as of the posting date, timeline-wise.

 
 
the embers haven't faded
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Attikias came prepared. Over-prepared, maybe, but he wanted to hang out in Fornax in case anybody else needed another enchant. It might be some time, but he could always try it-- hell, he brought a few more beads, and even rings of various sizes! They rested in the backpack over his shoulders, weighed down everything someone needed when they were taking a visit (including... a bedroll? he made a bedroll? apparently so). There wasn't a lot of wood in Fornax, either, so he'd brought materials for a small campfire if need-be.

Except, the climb was awful. He'd slammed his chest down an embarrassing number of times when slipping on the ice, and the place was wet, and he was a little hungry, truth be told. (Good thing he brought his fishing rod, something in the back of his mind chimed, but he shoved that far down before it could speak again.)

And so, what the Blacksmith would see through the door of Fornax would be a rising elf, huffing and puffing with a thick coat on and a much too heavy backpack, struggling not to slide on the tunnel's floors. And what he'd hear was worse- a rising "god this tunnel sucks. i nearly fucking busted my nose and this climb's hell, and i just want to be in fucking fornax already, i hate coming this way sometimes really it's sooooh hey, Blacksmith!" He cleared his throat, hoping much of that was too distant until he called out for the other humanoid, raising one hand up high to wave.

The Blacksmith probably heard that. Whoops.

Attikias glanced away for a moment before shaking himself out just slightly, planting his hands on the straps of his backpack as he approached. All in all, he was ready to spend a few nights, if need be- if he could keep a fire going, anyways. He could fish for food in Fornax, after all, and he had both his spear and his fishing rod visible from over his back.

"How's uh- everything going okay?" he started off, shrugging once he was in proper talking range of the Blacksmith. "I wanted to stop by, see if we needed any more enchantments. I have a few more items that can be enchanted, too, if you want to take them?" He glanced off to the side, shedding his leather jacket one arm at a time to keep one strap of his backpack on at all times. "-- I'll be honest, I didn't expect to see you here yet. I was just gonna camp out and wait for someone looking for you and offer to enchant the water breathing for them, but I guess two birds with one stone, huh?" He shrugged, looking back to the Blacksmith as he folded the jacket over one arm, left with a thin primitive top layer over his long pants.


 
 
 
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The white mask was indeed turning toward Attikias by the time the elf switched tacks mid-sentence. But if the Blacksmith noted the complaints, he didn't mention them. He simply listened, utterly motionless--tense, perhaps--and then looked back out to sea.

"Thank you," he said, at last, his voice soft. He was silent for a moment, and then glanced over his pile of items. "I think... we may have enough. But it would... be good to have more... just in case. If another comes... who can cast the magic... to breathe water. That would be kind of you."

There was another pause, and it seemed almost melancholy. When at last he spoke it was as though he were going over Attikias's question, his everything going okay? "Is it okay..? I do not know... It will be dangerous. They deserve better. But this was... a grave injustice. Will you be... going along? Have you heard... anything of the key?"

Masked face turned to Attikias, worry clear in the tone, though his features were hidden from view.

@Attikias

 
 
the embers haven't faded
the love you left, unmade
it's not your fault, you know this
but the leaving is still the same
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Attikias nodded in turn, following the Blacksmith's gaze. The cart was interesting in his mind- but, he wasn't focused on that, only looking at a glance at the items inside. His eyes turned back when the Blacksmith spoke again. "I think giving some items light might help, too, if it'll be dark down there. I don't know if you'll want it dark, though, to avoid danger." He adjusted his jacket over his arm.

His gaze dipped to the cave-bound sea at the Blacksmith's worry. "I'm not a big swimmer- or even a fighter, really," he excused, lips drawn tight. "But I've been trying to spread the word with a few of the others. Do you know what kind of things will be down there?" He paused, debating inwardly- he didn't want to leave his family alone. Even camping out here for a few days felt too long for him, but perhaps, just perhaps, it would be worth the try.

He pulled his head back at the thought of the key, though. "Carja told me some." Of course, it was a general idea, but- "I wasn't able to find it, but I've commissioned someone to help. I'm hoping, at least." Cerilaine could be trusted, right?

Wandering to the side, though definitely not out of the conversation, Attikias squatted down as he shrugged off his pack. The flap was tied on with just a rope and two buttons- an easy opening. Practiced, he twisted that around and opened it to a very full bag. The top had small leather purses in it- one, he'd pulled out and folded the jacket in place there before glancing up to the Blacksmith. He squinted- almost like he was gauging the Blacksmith, trying to look behind the mask.

After a second, he shrugged as he returned to the pack. "How long've you been waiting here? Are you hungry, at all? I've got some dried nuts and berries, or some jerky, if you eat meat." He rummaged for a second, extracting another bag- this one a little bigger, though not as heavy as the one before. "I have some roe, too. I dunno how long we'll have to wait until that Key shows up, so I wanted to be prepared."


 
 
 
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The offer of food was not unwelcome, but... the Blacksmith found that he was not hungry. "Thank you, but... no," he said politely, and looked back out over the water. "The light... is a good idea. Do you have... things that can... make light?" he asked, looking sidelong at Attikias. "Do the... others?"

He hadn't thought of this too much, but it would be worth a shot. They'd be blind, down there, though the elf made another good point--one that again set the Blacksmith fidgeting. What if the things down there were drawn to light? "Maybe things that... can be hidden... easily," he thought, aloud.

"Down there..." Masked face shifted to the sea, peering down, down to the depths he knew were hidden so deeply. He didn't know. He hadn't seen. The Merchant had seen; he'd shown Thothaga, long ago. But the Blacksmith was ignorant of the specific types of dangers. "It was a testing place... for our creatures... of the water. Maybe they... are there still. Maybe they will... not welcome us. I do not know..." he breathed, and then tried to think of specifics. Maybe that's all Attikias wanted-? A sort of situation report; expectations? "Creatures of chaos... built for the deep dark. Or maybe by now... they are all dead."

Or maybe, he reflected, they were sleeping; maybe the opening of the City would finally wake them up.

Caves, but he hoped not.

@Attikias

 
 
the embers haven't faded
the love you left, unmade
it's not your fault, you know this
but the leaving is still the same
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Attikias nodded, closing up his pack and gathering up both bags. One- the smaller, heavier one- went to his waist, to tie its rope around his belt and let it hang there. The other he held idly as he stood once more. "I can make them with magic, at least. Maybe some sort of-- focused baubled thing, with reflecting sides, that can be covered?" He idly brought one hand up to tap at his tattoo, thinking. "You might need someone with hands to use it, though."

He thought for a moment, looking back to the water once more. He had some sort of flashlight-lantern idea in his mind, something that could be directed with a bright light- or, several somethings. But, as the Blacksmith spoke, Attikias listened, his tail curling about one leg.

"We can only hope," he spoke wistfully, huffing. "Or, perhaps they found some other way out, some way to escape and live their lives. It doesn't seem likely, though- at least, I've never heard anything about them." He tucked in his arms before folding them, mind turning over. If it was like Hydra, they would've died down there- but, then, he could be sending people for their death too. The creatures down there could have grown hardened to their way of life, much more arduous than anything those up here could imagine.

In this time he spent thinking, his mind wandered, working back to enchantments. Soon- "Maybe some form of telepathy would help? Can't really talk underwater. Maybe some sort of thing to say 'we're in trouble' too, send back to someone on the surface, some sort of emergency group..." During this, the hand without the bag pulled up to tap at his mouth, his mind working out loud. One heel began to tap gently.

"But, it's a lot of maybes, especially if we even get people who can cast spells to enchant things with. -- I don't know where my daughter is, either..." The last sentence was tacked on, under his breath, as he rose his head to think. Could he get Vivilene to cast something for him, maybe? If she was back at the camp, at least.

He shook his head, waving his hand before returning it back to crossed position. He glanced back to the Blacksmith after all was said and done, conversational as he unwound his tail again.


 
 
 
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How do admit that he'd run himself down..? That he'd feverishly enchanted item, after item, until almost nothing was left in him? Oh, his magic was much, much stronger than theirs; it would recover, and more quickly, too. But for now he had not enough left to enchant a whole new slew of items.

"I fear... I have used myself... entirely, in preparation. I do not... have enough magic to... create more," he said at last, quietly. "Your ideas... are good, but I think... the speech at least... will be handled. The light... if you can make it-?" he requested, turning that mask almost plaintively to peer at Attikias.

Could the elf create what he, right now, could not-?

"I would be... in your debt," he added. "If there is something... you would want, in turn... when I am recovered. I will create it... in return for lights."

Anything to help them survive what was to come. Anything to finish what had to be done.

@Attikias

 
 
the embers haven't faded
the love you left, unmade
it's not your fault, you know this
but the leaving is still the same
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Attikias paused at the quiet tone of the Blacksmith- he was exhausted, and that struck the elf as evident, a gentle realization coming over him. Was there anything more he could do? If someone like the Blacksmith was drawn to his limits...

Attikias shook his head nearly imperceptibly, letting out a small breath. "I will do everything in my power to get you lights. I promise. Don't worry about them." He tried to offer his best smile, but it came out weak, worried, empathetic as his arms dropped from their tense, thinking position. "I don't need anything from you. Doing this- it's important. To you, to Farina- to make things right." He nodded to himself, backing himself up in his mind. "I have a few ideas, anyways, and-- light isn't that hard for me. It's the first magic I learned. Shouldn't be that hard." He waved one hand in dismissal to nothing before bringing it back up to his mouth as he thought. If he didn't have something, then, he could bauble things last minute...

Making a small noise from the base of his throat, Attikias tapped at his mouth again. "Is there anything you can think of that I can help make? Other than lights, maybe?" He made eye contact (or, he thought) with the Blacksmith, looking to those dark holes where eyes must be. What else could they do, without knowing what was down there? Weapons, maybe? But would they hold up in the water, would anybody else be able to carry them?

He didn't know. But, he had to do as much as he could.

 
 
 
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The Blacksmith turned, and regarded this one steadily for a time.

There were rare qualities that he didn't often find in the caves. Few embodied more than one of them, but this elf did; he was a throwback to another time, a more refined and sophisticated--a more civilized--time. Stories of magic swords and heroism flitted through his mind, half-remembered and then forgotten in favor of a polite response--but he reflected, now, that he was happy that Attikias had come to keep him company. "I need... only light, I think," he said, after a moment's thought. Then he went on, with gentle advice.

"Do not waste... your energy with... true Enchanting. If you can find... someone with the magic to-..." (and here he gestured, thinking) "-simply impart light... into objects. It is simpler... easier. Faster and... less draining, and every bit... as strong." He looked out over the sea, and then back to the elf. "What was your... name, again? You are... very kind." He could not remember if the elf had introduced himself, or not; but he would like to know his name, to remember those with boldness, but also kindness, in their hearts.

@Attikias

 
 
the embers haven't faded
the love you left, unmade
it's not your fault, you know this
but the leaving is still the same
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Lights, then. As the Blacksmith looked over Attikias, his mind was already reeling with possibilities, of what he could do- (some sort of covering? But that'd need two hands...). One finger drifted up to his chin as he pondered, tapping there. What about those without hands? Maybe some sort of mouth implement- no, that'd be disgusting, and he made a brief face at that.

But, his eyes flicked back up when the Blacksmith continued. "Ahh- most of my family can do that, yeah. I use it to help decorate the camp- it's not a bad spell at all." He nodded, still tapping his chin.

He paused as the Blacksmith did, though, watching. He seemed to be a kind being, too- it was no wonder the Collector recommended for them to meet. Attikias quite admired the older being. To spend all this time, for something he had no involvement in, to make things right and to push himself to the limits.

It reminded him of himself. Glancing away, Attikias took a moment to look to the sea as well, before looking back when the Blacksmith spoke again.

"I'm Attikias Elenya." He nodded to the Blacksmith, his face lightening from the troubled, thoughtful expression to one of welcoming. His right hand came out to shake- something he'd pick up, somewhere, so long ago- held between the two. "I... Think I forgot to introduce myself." He let out a chuckle, eyes shutting briefly as his smile widened for a moment. "-- I know people call you the Blacksmith, is that what you prefer?" It was a befitting name, after all, and besides- his daughter's name was Hunter. And his father was named Fisher, so if he had a problem with job names, he'd have to take it up with himself first.

Still. He was eager to have another being to help, another person he could recognize himself in. Someone who felt like an ancient thread to a life long forgotten, a long lost sibling of some form. A friend.

 
 



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