123 Searing 4th
Ivar's focus was interrupted by a soft knock on the door, causing a flicker of irritation to pass through him. He longed for the day he'd have enough time to finish scrivening his door, enabling it to whisk away uninvited guests.
Despite his annoyance, Ivar rose and peered through the window. His expression softened at the sight of the visitor. Despite the initial annoyance, he found this particular interruption not entirely unwelcome.
"Enter," he called out.
The wooden door creaked open, and a figure peered in. The man was known to Ivar. He was a man by the name of Dorrin. Dorrin, with his broad shoulders and the distinctive roughness that came from years on the road, filled the doorway, a bit out of place in the room filled with ancient texts and delicate instruments.
"Apologies for disturbing," Dorrin started, his gruff voice echoing through the quiet room. “I need something made. If I recall, you’re accepting new scrivening work, yes?”
Ivar raised an eyebrow. "That is correct. I’m still polishing my skills else I’d have a business up and running.”
Dorrin moved further into the room, the nervousness apparent in his eyes. "I need an object capable of absorbing magic," he replied. "My travels have put me in the path of magical thieves and the one I’ve currently got doesn’t work anymore. The person who sold it to me said when it stops glowing it’s expended all of its protective abilities." Dorrin extended his hand, revealing a fist-sized talisman. "This is the one," he murmured.
Taking it gently from Dorrin, Ivar's gaze flickered over the object, assessing it with a meticulous eye. The talisman seemed entirely ordinary to the touch and he wouldn’t have any clue it was magical if it weren’t for the symbols that covered it. Based on what he’d learned at the university, he figured that its magical energy was indeed entirely spent.
As he turned it over in his hands, Ivar felt the smooth surface, the once intricate etchings now nearly entirely worn away from being not so carefully handled. “This thing has definitely seen better days,” Ivar said with a chuckle. Tell you what, I’ll do the work but I want to use this as a reference. You don’t need it do you?”
Dorrin shook his head. "As long as you make one that works, I'm prepared to pay the price. Magical defenses are essential when you’re a travelling merchant"
Ivar nodded, feeling a spark of excitement. "Very well, I will begin work on it immediately. I’m guessing it’ll probably take me a handful of days to finish."
"I’ll be seeing you next week then,” Dorrin said as he exited the home.
Ivar was then left alone with his thoughts. A talisman capable of absorbing magic was technically within his capabilities but he hadn’t made one before. His first thought was simply to restore the one that Dorrin had provided to him but he didn’t want to take any shortcuts when his reputation was on the line.
Delving deeper into his examination, Ivar held the talisman up to the candlelight at his table. He ran his fingers over the contours of its worn glyphs. A sigh slipped from him as his trained eyes followed the subtle flow of the pictographs. He was reading them and interpreting them to get an understanding as to how the pictography functioned.
The glyphs told a tale of a rather straightforward kind of absorption and dispersion of aether. It was completely different from how Ivar made scrolls which were meant to not only absorb magic but emit that very same magic later on. It seemed that the talisman absorbed any spell cast at the bearer and distributed the aether across its entire surface. Then, the aether was allowed to harmlessly dissipate.
Ivar paused for a moment to realize just how far he’d come. He couldn’t believe that he could actually take a magical object and understand how it worked so naturally. He rubbed his eyes and set the talisman aside while brainstorming all while smiling.
He thought, “It’s not a bad piece of work, but I think I can do better.”
He spent the better part of the afternoon sketching out a rough draft for the pictography that he would eventually etch into another talisman. Paths snaked across the surface of a large circle he’d drawn to represent the talisman. Where these paths converged, a juncture point was established. He imagined the once effervescent energy cascading through these tracks, pooling and swirling at these points before being carefully siphoned off. He felt that this would be a better way of dissipating the absorbed aether in comparison.
In the center he sketched a large spiraling vortex. It was designed to absorb any rogue aether that may have slipped past the initial layers of defenses, drawing it back into the core before redistributing it, nullifying the effects of a potentially catastrophic backfire. This was yet another improvement he was making to the design of the reference talisman.
When he’d finished his rough draft he decided that was enough scrivening for the day. He knew he would make mistakes if he got too wound up with all the small details. While he doubted he would need a whole week to finish the project he was fairly certain that it would take him at least a couple days and he fully expected to go through several test amulets before getting it right.
Taking one last look at the talisman, he decided that he ought to figure out a way to actually put the symbols onto metal. It was a question best asked to a craftsman so he teleported to the marketplace. The familiar bustle of the crowd did little to distract him from his purpose, his eyes scanning the various stalls for what he needed.
He finally found what he was looking for at the end of a row, in a small shop run by a burly man with a grizzled beard and weathered hands. He embodied the word Craftsman alright.
"Good afternoon," Ivar greeted, approaching the counter.
"Evenin', what can I do for ya?" The man replied, eyeing Ivar up and down.
"I need a tool," Ivar started, "to etch intricate designs into metal."
The man stroked his beard thoughtfully before disappearing into the back of his shop. He emerged a moment later holding a delicate-looking device, a sharp, slender point attached to a small handle.
"Try this. It's a graver. Used by jewelers for intricate work. Got a hard tip, should handle most metals," the man explained, extending the tool towards Ivar.
Ivar took it, weighing it in his hand. It was light, fitting comfortably in his grip. It would provide the precision he needed. He looked at the craftsman, "I'll take it."
After exchanging coins, Ivar thanked the man and left the shop. He nearly teleported home but he remembered something. He swung by a magical shop and picked up a handful of amulets that were suitable for housing magic for long term purposes.
Ivar's return to his home was marked by a sense of anticipation. The fire he had going started casting long shadows across the room since he hadn’t given it more fuel in quite some time. He relied more on the candlelight anyways since the fireplace was on the other side of the room. With the newly purchased graver in hand and a target amulet before him, he set to work.
His initial strokes were tentative, the graver's tip carving into the metal surface with surprising ease. He quickly realized that this tool required a much lighter touch than he was expecting. He was imagining having to use a hammer but that wasn’t necessary.
The hours slipped by as Ivar adjusted his technique. He took breaks only when his hand began to cramp from the intensity of his focus. The constant hum of his own thoughts filled the silence as he assessed each misstep. He wasn’t trying to do much of anything aside from make basic patterns to get a feel of the tool in his hand.
Ivar yawned. It was getting late enough to go to sleep but there was still work to be done. He got up and teleported to a tavern where he was meant to meet with some other people in the information brokering business. There wasn’t hardly anything exciting discussed and Ivar hardly spoke at all since he’d brought the tool and talisman with him. One by one the members of the meeting split off until Ivar was alone, fighting to keep his eyes open.
Unbeknownst to Ivar, Dorrin was also in to tavern. His eyes immediately found Ivar at the far corner, hunched over a mug of ale. Striding over, he pulled out the chair across from Ivar, the wood groaning under his weight.
"You've been hidden away for a while," Dorrin started, his tone jovial, "How's the work coming along?"
Ivar looked up, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Better than I expected, actually. Took me a bit to get the hang of this tool here."
Dorrin's eyebrows shot up, clearly intrigued. "Really? So you've made some progress then?"
Ivar nodded, taking a long sip of his ale before continuing. "Yes, I've made quite a bit of progress. It's not complete yet, but I'm getting there."
Dorrin's grin widened, the tension in his shoulders visibly lessening. "That's good to hear. Really good. You look mighty tired, don’t work yourself to death."
Ivar nodded and said, “I’ve been working since I got up this morning, as a matter of fact. I think I will head to bed now, if it’s that obvious.” He chuckled. “Be seeing you.”
Working in Searing
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Ivar
- Posts: 161
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- Character Sheet: viewtopic.php?p=24709#p24709
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word count: 1669
