68th of Ash, 120 AS
From the table, Lyra took a small pouch, dumping its contents into her hand. 8 white knucklebones, a bit rough to the touch. Walking to the pedestal Lyra placed all but one into the center of the circle, the one in her hand she turned over between in fingers to examine its surface more closely. The bones were imperfect, rounded things that had enough edges that would make them stop when rolled, though how they sat was not even. That in and of itself did not concern Lyra, but rather she wondered if the way the bones landed would somehow affect the end result. Thinking for a short time Lyra reached for the bone salve once more, spreading the solution over the bone in her hand and taking a small carving knife from her shelf. This knife was etched with pictographs for sharpening and glyphs that held to smooth the edges of the cuts made.
Using the knife Lyra worked carefully along one side at a time. The bone itself was slightly longer than it was wide, and the flatter sides of its width were what would catch and cause the numbers to be displayed when rolled. Thus Lyra took some time to carefully carve out the edges of each side, flatting them further so that one of the 4 sides would always face up when tossed. Lyra repeated this process on each of the bones in turn, crafting them ever so slightly so that they would work better for her intended purpose.
With that complete Lyra used a bit of ichor on each of the bones, letting the substance sink in before she took up the carving hook and started the process. The dice were meant to be a piece of something larger, however, Lyra did not wish to limit them in the same way she did the skull. The skull was... special. She had used much aether to draw out and control some of what happened. Because of this, she had intentionally made the item dependent upon the dice Lyra now crafted. The dice, however, needed no such restrictions. They could be made to work independently, and in fact Lyra wanted them to do so, yet when they were used with the skull something greater would be made to occur.
On one side of the dice, Lyra carved the symbol of a flame with jagged edges. On the next side, she placed the simple mug with foam running over, and on the third, she put the clenched fist. On the fourth side, she added the outline of a fox head, though it had little details. Each of these pictographs Lyra wrapped in two layers of wards, linked together around the width of the dice with chain-like braided lines.
"The nature of man is multi-faceted." Lyra whispered to the dice as she worked, "One might see the brave warrior, strong and true, while another would see the drunkard who languished in depravity at the cost of his own morality." Around each of the chains Lyra created a winding pattern of thorns that also circled the pictographs themselves, spreading out along the dice to the edges, "What one sees is often up to chance, or circumstance. Some days the warrior appears, while others the drunkard. Some days it is neither. Variable, uncertain, like the roll of the dice."
Gormash for all his faults and cunning had been one thing above all else. Lucky. Even with all the skill of a master and the blessing of the gods, it was a wonder he had lasted as long as he had. That, impart, was due purely to chance. He had favored gambling, and as he had continued to drink and give into his base desires it seemed he won more often than he lost. Some would say he was blessed, others perhaps cursed as all that luck had done is allowed him to succumb further and further to his weakness.
On one end of the dice, Lyra drew a symbol of remembrance. It was the figure of a kneeling man, drawn with simple lines and no detail. Around him were flickering shapes like candle flames or the souls of those he had killed. These flames Lyra placed in a circle around the man, giving them tiny pinpricks like eyes that seemed to stare at the kneeling figure.
"Remember where you come from." Lyra said as she worked, drawing the thorny vines so that they wove up and wrapped the kneeling man, "Remember what you were, what you could have been. You were lucky, a lover of games of both coin and lives. You gambled everything on the slight chance of success, and in the end, the gamble was lost. Let others see, let others experience that same thing. Luck of the gambler, the fate of the greedy." She breathed out, letting her aether suffuse the pictographs before moving to the other end of the dice.
On the other end, Lyra drew another familiar symbol. A pair of dice, each of their faces containing the eye of a serpent. Around this Lyra created several stacks of coins, the ones with their faces visible Lyra drew a curved line, the beginnings of a jagged toothed smile. The kneeling man was a pictograph intended to draw out the innate abilities within the dice themselves. Each shared the same pictograph, which linked them together. Simple, isolated. The dice would have an effect all their own, independent of any other item. The dice could even be rolled separately, yet Lyra suspected the greatest effects would come when all 8 dice were rolled together. This pictograph with the dice and coins was the link between the dice and the larger game at hand. The skull was designed to pull out the greatest remembrances from Gormash's life, the skull being one of the most potent body parts one could use in Lyra's estimation. The skull, however, was incomplete. It waited for a key, an input of some sort. The skull would have its effects drawn out, however, the glyphs Lyra constructed sought to capture those effects, binding them and only releasing the ones linked to a roll of the dice. The glyphs tied to Lyra's own Mesmer drew the eye and sent pangs of craving, giving those who looked at it the desire to play this twisted game. The pictographs around its skull were two-fold. They guided the power of the artefact, but also aided in transmitting it in a similar fashion to how Lyra spread the influence of her rune.
Each of the bone dice in turn received the same glyph and pictograph pairings, linking them together and to the skull itself. As she worked the skull seemed to glow slightly as if coming to realize its missing piece was nearing completion. As she finished the last bone Lyra took a new vial of blood liquor, pouring it over each dice in turn. The runes glowed, and for a brief moment the dice gave off a reddish mist like the skull, but this quickly vanished without a trace. Nodding slowly to herself Lyra replaced the blood liquor to its testing place, sighing and rubbing her eyes. She was not quite done yet, but the majority of the work was complete. Next...
From the shelf, Lyra brought down the jar of infused paint. The paint had been mixed with her ichor in a similar fashion to the blood ink she used for other works. Taking a small brush from the shelf Lyra began the slow process of painting in the etchings on each set of dice. She traced the outlines of each pictograph, adding color into the depths with the black paint to make the designs stand out in stark contrast with the white of the bones. As she painted she whispered under her breath, repeating phrases of remembrance, of luck, of games. The paint sank into the bone, becoming a part of it and etching the black lines in place permanently.
The experience had been rewarded, Lyra decided. The power of artefacts could not be ignored, and their benefits were potentially many. For her though? It simply wasn't an art that she found herself enjoying. She, at her core, was a Dinor'afiel. She desired precision, accuracy. This craft was far too similar to gambling itself, and she had no desire to craft an item that she could not be sure would do what she wished it to.
"The scripts are unforgiving in many ways." Lyra said to herself as she finished the last bit of detail on the dice, "They require an understanding not just of what one wishes to do, but of the nature of the thing being manipulated. With time and patience, one can be assured of the effects that the modifications could have, yet any unknown variable adds a layer of complexity and makes the entire process pointless."
Lyra sighed in resignation. She had thought that she might be able to draw out that power, that magic known as negation from the bones of a mage who used it. The truth was she could, in part, but she had little to no control over what that effect might be, and if it would benefit herself. She could craft items that were meant to be given to others, certainly, but for the time being that was not what Lyra required. Her body was starting to unravel. She was still unfamiliar with the world and its people and had only just begun to get her foothold. What's more there was something... watching her.
Lyra's eyes drifted to the corners of the room, half expecting to see something or somewhere there watching her in return. What she needed more than anything was MORE control, not less.
Taking up the dice Lyra dropped them back into their sack pouch, carrying them and the skull over to an empty shelf against the opposite wall. When they were their Lyra stepped back and simply looked at her work. Artefacts... Truly something worth exploring one day, but for now... Well, for now, she needed to attend other work. Her mind drifted to the letter in the drawer of her desk, the request from the circle of spells.
"I suppose I will see to the woman's shop then." she sighed and rubbed the back of her neck. She had, after all, said on her application that she offered schema for magical lab modifications. The Circle of Spells had been especially interested in that particular service. What even was an artificer? Another magic of this age? Well, in any case, she would find out soon enough.
