Kilvin's Forge
45th Searing, 123 of Steel
45th Searing, 123 of Steel
Aurin didn't mind fetching Carina from Gel'Grandal. The practice gave him a firmer grasp on the threads of slipspace that connected the two metropolises, which would only make it easier to escape the Imperial capital if he ever ran afoul of the authorities. Since getting high on the floor with her earlier that season, he had begun to do his part to make her larcenous dreams come true and now they had an appointment with the finest runeforger he knew.
He held the door open for her like a gentleman, then urged her into the shopfront with a hand on her ass like a cad.
"...and you'll probably want to leave it with him. I don't know. Get lunch. Go do your dips and twirls in one of the rehearsal rooms at the Peacock. Avast ye, Timon," he continued, changing course like - apparently - a pirate. "Torin's eleven o' the clock appointment is here. Carina Caron's initial consultation."
"Welcome, Miss Caron," Timon said. The youth was imminently professional whereas Aurin was not. "If you would please wait here, I will let Master Kilvin know you've arrived." With a short bow, he gave Aurin an unreadable glance and then exited through the back door. He would have to make sure Torin wasn't shirtless and sweating; he tried to make him presentable when he had meetings with new clients.
"So, yes... This is Kilvin's Forge. Well, this is the storefront. The forge is in back." He waved at the glass cases protecting various items on show. "His work is excellent. Rivals that of the Skyforge, and you don't have to pay for the dubious honor of it coming with the stamp of approval of a pidge prince."