Oct 13 — [Event] Doctor Funs Funhouse of Fun! (READ MORE) Sep 1 — September OTMs and News! (READ MORE) Aug 2 — August OTMs and News! (READ MORE)
CAVE STATUS
QUESTS/EVENTS
Autumn arrives, subdued by the caves' depths. Skittering leaves, thick fog or drifting mist, and cooler temperatures provide a crisp fall atmosphere. The spectres of Andromeda drift in and out of visibility, and pumpkins begin to spread beneath foliage shifting into hues of amber and flame. Strange whispering can be heard at the edges of empty tunnels, and the Carnival seems more boisterous than usual...
All the information Zephiran had was to try a blacksmith. One that he heard lived a bit away from them. After a night's rest, he would grab the blade and its sheath. Then he prowled through the caverns.
Perhaps.. this guy could tell him more about this object. Anything would or would be useful. Maybe what he could do with it. Right now it was collecting dust.
It took a bit of time for Belvadair to get there, to cross into the warm cavern. It just brought back uncomfortable memories of nearly drowning. The pup gulped and pressed on.
Eventually he'd bring himself towards the back wall of the cavern. Finding what appeared to be a volcano. From the signs and the workshop ahead. He'd suspect this is where he'd find such a rumored creature. Although all the way here, Belvadair specifically took ways around water.. Who could blame him?
The Workshop's mouth seemed quite dark, compared to Leo's brilliant light: but upon entering, once the eyes adjusted, it was almost cozy. The warmth and the orange light of the forge were welcoming; and the soft clang, clang of a hammer was almost soothing.
The workshop's alcoves were filled with tools, armor, and weapons; another held a table and chairs. Dried and drying twists of tea leaves hung suspended on the walls before small, open flows of lava that served as forges.
The hooded, horned figure not far off was working at an ancient anvil, a rack of armor behind him, a twisted and broken piece of metal before him. It was glowing red, and he was gently shaping it into whatever form it had once taken.
At first it was dark, his eye would soon adjust. Instead of the odd cold he expected, he was greeted with warmth. A cozy orange light. The hammering cling and clangs were nearly soothing for the pup.
So this was the blacksmith huh? All around him, Belvadair could see armor and tools. Weapons. Honest not far off from his own he held between his jaws.
The pup focused upon the creature at some sort of large metal. A bright glowing hot object was being beaten down. So that's how he did it? But what causes it to be so bright?
The pup cautiously moved around. Enough to peer over at the blacksmith a bit more.
"Hello?"
There was a bit of hesitation in his tone. Belvadair wanted to watch and see what he was doing.. It was rather unique. Bright orange eye glared up at the creature, yet Belvadair stayed a good enough distance away to try and make sure the heat didn't aim for him.
He hadn't heard enough to know if he was kind or not. One way to sort it out right?
"Whatcha doin?"
Was muttered through his jaws, a little slurred from the object resting in his jaws. Yet he was trying to not make the other flinch. Nor scare him.
The Blacksmith turned, hammer-clang pausing, and peered down at his new visitor. He set the hammer down. "Oh... hello," he offered. "I am smithing. Repairing broken armor. -I am The Blacksmith; may I ask your name?" His eyes, behind the masked face, travelled down to the object held in the wolf pup's jaws. "Did you need help with something?" he asked, kindly.
Maybe his visitor wanted the object identified..? Or repaired, somehow?
The pup's suspicion was right. He was a blacksmith. Surely it would be safe to ask him, right? Someone who spends so long repairing stuff might know more about this than he does.
"Oh, I'm Belvadair."
He introduced himself, gently setting the sheathed blade before his own paws. The masked wolf tilted his head.
"Yeah.. uhm, I was wondering if you could help me understand this? I found it. Have not been able to understand it though."
More like it was chucked at him. Something he didn't know. All he could tell was how beautiful the blade was. He wanted to know how to use it. It wasn't like he could hold it well. Belvadair got an idea what it was for. But any information was helpful to the pup.
The Blacksmith wiped his hands carefully on a scrap of leather, or cloth, that hung beside the anvil. Then he stepped over, kneeling to look at the blade. "May I-?" he asked, asking permission before taking it. He stayed where he was, not taking the blade from the wolf, but instead handling it before Belvadair: unsheathing it carefully, examining the scabbard and the marks upon the metal, and... studying, a bit too long, the tallies sewn into its ribbon.
"Hmm. May I ask where you found this?" he asked, curious. "It isn't my work. And it is..." He hesitated. He hated to say it was beyond the capabilities of the Gembounds he'd so far met, but that was the truth. They were self-taught, and while some had learned to forge passable materials, this blade was a masterwork. "It is too finely crafted, I think, to be from anyone else in these caves. And the leather," and here he tapped the scabbard gently, "this is very well-dyed... expensive, I think. Hmm. It is a sword, if you do not know that. A weapon of combat, of war." He stood, holding the hilt carefully, then--with precision footwork--stepped forward with a thrust into the air, and then a swipe. Then he returned it to the scabbard, and set it carefully atop Belvadair's foot--so the wolf could speak, for now, but could pick it up easily without having to scrape it off the ground.
"Oh? I found it.. Well rather it was thrown at me. A cavern with a lot of geodes. Next to a waterfall, it was thrown towards me."
Belvadair briefly explained. The cavern was beautiful nonetheless, but he didn't feel comfortable staying. Not for a moment. The place gave him goosebumps. And no real reason for it that he was aware of.
"Oh, a sword huh?"
His good eye met down at the blade. The perfectionally crafted sword. He'd never seen a weapon prior to now, were there more? Why was this one thrown at him?
He wasn't sure exactly what war meant. Maybe he was hidden under a rock too long. It was a little bit of silence from Belvadair as he thought upon it. It was weird not using it. Something as beautiful as this was? It felt like an obligation to do so.
Fighting? Wasn't his forte, he'd rather use it for something else. Maybe… Carving? Zephiran always seemed to bring back sticks, rocks. Maybe he could turn them into something cooler than just bland rocks.
"Do you think I could use it to carve stone or… branches? I don't know if I'd use it for combat."
A tilt of his head, a mere question. Belvadair was pretty interested in learning more about them. About this said weapon he carried.
The Collector studied Belvadair thoughtfully. "I am not sure you could make much use of this... or many tools... without hands." He knelt, and held out his dark-hued hands, flexing them. Fingers, an opposable thumb--it was clear that wielding something with the mouth simply would not work the way the wolf had hoped.
"I could trade you, if you wished--try to create something that someone with your... anatomy? Could use for crafting." He considered, studying the wolf's overall shape. Could it be done-? Even Valkhounds who had used the forge had usually had some sort of arms and hands. "I would offer... to create some kind of blocks to brace this within. So that you could press wood down and use this for carving, but-" here he tapped the scabbard and gently shook his head, "that is not what this blade's edge is used for. It would dull quickly." It would also be a waste of a beautiful blade, but he did not say that. "And you would be... in great danger. A wrong move and you might lose... a paw, you see? Or worse." He winced to think of the pup pressing a block of wood down, slipping, and his head-... No. No, it didn't do to think of it.
He tried to work his head around the problem. Was there a way a wolf could carve wood..? He thought of a few ideas. A side-facing blade, mounted on floor or wall, so the wolf could press it down with their jaws--but no, then they couldn't see what they were doing. A center-oriented blade, then? The wolf could use paws to either side-... but no, that would either leave too large a gap--and thus be very dangerous--or disallow precision carving.
Hmm. What about-...
He stood, with a sudden thought, and paced back to his forge. He looked over what he had: leather, metal sheets, ingots, buckles. Claws tapped his anvil thoughtfully and then he looked back to Belvadair.
"If you wish to carve, I would offer you a trade... it would take work, and time. But I may be able... to forge gloves, of a sort. Ones that would grant you a grip. Like hands. You would use your jaws to close the grip, with a lever, or a strap." He hadn't fully thought the design through yet, but he was picturing a sort of prosthetic metal hand. "And to release it. And I could grant you a blade for carving. If you wish to trade your sword," he suggested. Then he shrugged, gently. "But it is of course... your decision? You may keep the blade and... use it for decoration." It went unsaid, though, that it would never be a particularly good tool for carving.
Belvadair listened. It was clear he had a difference in his paw than the smith. It wouldn't be necessarily easy for him to do so. His head tilted to the side, leaning back to watch with his good eye.
Losing a paw.. that wasn't on his agenda. But something to use would be nice. He didn't know how to wield this one. Could it be better used as defense?
"What can I use this one for then?"
Dark paw pointed to the blade the smith set before him. He wasn't sure trading it was best but... he wasn't sure if he wanted to keep it either. Carving sounded fun. But he needed just a bit more information to decide what he might want.
Belvadiar just wanted to see his options. Maybe if he didn't really have much of a use for it.. he could let Zephiran hang it up on the wall. Or keep it as a keepsake. The dark pup wasn't sure what he wanted to do with it.
"I'm.. just, errr… unsure what it's supposed to be for. This is my first time ever even hearing about weapons being a thing. If I kept it, is it only for looks or would it ever have a use?"
Let alone finding one of war. And he had zero idea what that really meant. But he picked up clues a bit. Enough to know it was dangerous if he used it wrong. Last thing he wanted was someone else dangerous getting their dirty paws on it.
The Blacksmith studied the pup for a moment, considering exactly how blunt to be. He could be honest, but telling the direct truth, wholly, was... grim.
At length he shook his head gently, and sighed. "They are used... for killing others. Defending from wild beasts... monsters... But no, this is for--killing enemies. Soldiers, and so on. Wars. When groups fight one another... they wear armor, and use weapons. That is what it is for. For killing." It was sad, but true. "For you... it would be only decoration. Or trade. Or... perhaps, some day, you might change."
He moved away, fiddling with his tea kettle, and glanced back. "Would you like--tea? -But some Gembounds--you sleep, if you are injured, and may change your shape. Perhaps... some day, you may awaken with hands. It is a slim chance, but it is a chance. Otherwise-... you will not find much use for that. As a weapon, your teeth are more useful to you." He poured his own tea, thinking.
He'd seen things used to make jaws more deadly, of course--muzzles with blades attached, or metal teeth points. But he didn't mention that now--the wolf did not seem the killing sort.
