TIMESTAMP: Ash 27th, 122
NOTES: -
NOTES: -
- - -
Ash 27th, Late Afternoon thru Ash 28th, Morning, 122
All seemed to be going mostly well, all things considered. Aard had gotten to know some of the other members of the expedition, beginning to understand his role in this strange band of wayward souls. There still seemed to him, to be some kind of divine providence at play. Some strange being wished for them to be here, and he wished to stay until he could at least provide a waystation for the inhabitants to study the local area.
Aardwalden knew he could not stay forever. Soon he would have to manufacture some sort of craft, to either fly above the mountains, or carry him upon the coasts and rivers. It seemed a worthy challenge of his skill, and out here among the elements, he would be so much closer to all of them save the earth.
As the dark clouds broke into a soft whisper of rain, Aardwalden watched the water pool down the stone steps, leaving them slippery. ”I’d be best to set up gutters,” he thought. ”When I’ve the time.”
Arms behind his back, Aardwalden stepped inside from the brief showers to peruse his domain, more carefully choosing his layout and assessing where things would be. The workshops would be connected to a hall, with storage, a small foundry and smithy, and a Runeforging Lab; somehow, he would make the tools himself through trial and error. He was at least as confident that he could. Anything more as requested by his fellow expeditioners, and he would hollow further into the earth.
On the opposite side, Aardwalden planned rooms. If the people so wished, they could sleep in the commons he had hollowed for now, if they could stomach his toil. People tended to complicate matters, so guest rooms seemed like a temporary solution until he could afford the time and energy to build other structures. He would likely need to set up a chamber there for bathing and presentation, just as well.
In the center, Aardwalden envisioned a large round table with many seats and a miniature map of the expedition holding at its center for discussion, flanked by smaller tables with two to four seats each. Between both halls would be a bar, kitchen, and pantry. Even if he did not consume of food and rarely made merry, he suspected morale would stay high and cause him less problems if he did at least this much for them.
Scratching the surface with his stone nails, Aardwalden spent the next ten minutes or so outlining where the various projects would be, the first of which would be the Runeforging Lab and Smithy.
Retrieving his pick and the stone gathering Schist Rod he’d fashioned the day before, Aardwalden set them aside and ran his hands along the smooth dorway he’d outlined, six and a half feet in height with a rugged rise of stone. The commons were anything but level along the edges. He needed to work from an elevated position and come back down.
The hill was above the aquifer of the sea, so at least water wasn’t pooling into every crevice. Breaching the aquifer would be a problem in and of itself, but he didn’t linger on the thought.
Hefting up his pickaxe, Aardwalden rolled the creaking stones of his shoulders before Enmeshing the stone tool with a layer of hugging quartz to reinforce it. He then threw his heavy weight into a swing against the earth. The end of the pick struck the stone and chipped it away, but a second strike dislodged a small boulder that clattered by his feet. Again and again, he struck out against the stone, hollowing out the hall deeper and deeper into the dark until he could see no more.
Picking up a rock, Aardwalden thought carefully to is connection with fire, beseeching it for help, to swaddled his stone in fire. Enmeshing the round object, it soon erupted with a weak flame, his Attunement to the earth vastly diminishing the scope of its power, but it didn’t need to be large nor hot, so the stone had a weaker Enmeshing placed upon it that would last for longer without burning through its aether. He just needed light, and so he set it down upon the foot of the hall where it cast its warm radiance enough for him to see the stone ahead with his light-sensitive, gnomish eyes.
Like the day before, as the earth threatened to him that it might cave, he smoothed it into a round pattern that supported itself, sculpting the ceiling smooth. He pressed deeper into the earth, digging out another ten feet for the hall, and then began hammering at the floor with his pick to dig deeper down, the rocks piling up in the commons area as he dragged them away with a scoop of his axe. The bigger boulders he simply hefted up and tossed out. Pity anyone who dared get in the way.
After some time, a few hours, he had a hall mostly hollowed, and he Sculpted the floor to leave it mostly smooth. Moving heaps of rock was straining on the elements, as was fine detail. Being rough and doing much of the digging saved him from Overstepping, and unlike a human, his earthen biology helped him to dig without end. There was a certain novelty to it, a naturalness and private quietude he’d never known before. He understood now why the Deepborn of his time were so passionate about digging in the mines often by their lonesome to lay claim to whatever they found.
With the workshop hall mostly finished, Aardwalden measured out a doorway on the right side, then began chiseling out a ledge for himself with his pick, stepping up into the earth until that six and a half foot ceiling he’d marked was met, and then he struck inside deeper still.
This… was going to take awhile. The size of a proper Runesmithing Lab necessitating much space for the various instruments and securities, let alone a makeshift one. He allowed himself a depth and width of twenty feet, leaving four columns of schist five feet from the corners to bare the weight of the stone, fashioning concave domes between each square section across the imaginary grid this created. Once he’d halfway deep dug much of the room and cleared it of stone, he broke earth on the second half.
By the time Aardwalden finished, it was nearing dawn, and he hadn’t even touched the room for the smithy. That would come later. To save himself time, he’d left the edges of the Runesmith Lab with stone tables along the sides and far end of the room, as well as a round boulder of roughly hewn stone towards the center that would eventually serve as a kiln if he could pull off the Scrivening required.
To make proper, worthy tools, Aardwalden knew he would need a forge to work metal, though for glass he suspected he could blend fire and sand to his aims. Clambering cross the piles of loose stone, he broke ground on the smithy. He only needed a place for a furnace, a forge, an anvil, and a tool rack, so this took far less longer than the larger room he’d just dug, digging out a roughly half moon shape for the two large structures and then digging deeper to hollow out the room.
For now, both rooms would remain unfurnished. Furnishing the smithy was a project for later in the day, as both would require fume stacks he wasn’t keen on mining at just this moment, and he wagered the extensive detail required to Sculpt the needed tools might just push him into Strain.
Seeing the deep blue light of morning at the maw of the cave, Aardwalden picked up his Schist rod and stood in the foyer of his Hill Home, pushing in the stone plug to activate it and pointing it down at the loose earth he’d mined. It began to rattle and quiver, rolling towards him in a great heap, though not all at once. The gnome guided it out the door and out the steps, the many rocks and boulders tumbling by as he arrived upon the beach and spread them out, slowly piling on a foundation of stone rubble for future expansion. Industry was always so unsightly in this phase, but Aardwalden didn’t mind. In due time, as they say.
After a few trips of hauling stone, Aardwalden's Schist Rod went inert from overuse, so he went back and moved a few armfuls by hand to at least clear out his smithy. Then, clapped his hands together and considered the night done, heading outside to gaze upon the bay for sunrise. Peering at the bright sliver of sun rising to the eastern sea, Aardwalden felt the daze of Madness settling in, and sat upon his steps, removing the pack from his shoulders and extracting an Aetherite Dragonshard. Pressing it to his lips, he breathed its energies inwards, clarity coming to him the more the Dragonshard dimmed, until it was dark and inert.
”I should explore and find more Dragonshards soon, else I will have none to ply my craft having drained these all by my lonesome,” Aardwalden thought to himself, gazing over the dim encampments. ”There is still so much work left to do. Progress is slow, but steady.”
Loot
- Smithy (Unfurnished)
- Runeforging Lab (Unfurnished)
Ash 27th, Late Afternoon thru Ash 28th, Morning, 122
All seemed to be going mostly well, all things considered. Aard had gotten to know some of the other members of the expedition, beginning to understand his role in this strange band of wayward souls. There still seemed to him, to be some kind of divine providence at play. Some strange being wished for them to be here, and he wished to stay until he could at least provide a waystation for the inhabitants to study the local area.
Aardwalden knew he could not stay forever. Soon he would have to manufacture some sort of craft, to either fly above the mountains, or carry him upon the coasts and rivers. It seemed a worthy challenge of his skill, and out here among the elements, he would be so much closer to all of them save the earth.
As the dark clouds broke into a soft whisper of rain, Aardwalden watched the water pool down the stone steps, leaving them slippery. ”I’d be best to set up gutters,” he thought. ”When I’ve the time.”
Arms behind his back, Aardwalden stepped inside from the brief showers to peruse his domain, more carefully choosing his layout and assessing where things would be. The workshops would be connected to a hall, with storage, a small foundry and smithy, and a Runeforging Lab; somehow, he would make the tools himself through trial and error. He was at least as confident that he could. Anything more as requested by his fellow expeditioners, and he would hollow further into the earth.
On the opposite side, Aardwalden planned rooms. If the people so wished, they could sleep in the commons he had hollowed for now, if they could stomach his toil. People tended to complicate matters, so guest rooms seemed like a temporary solution until he could afford the time and energy to build other structures. He would likely need to set up a chamber there for bathing and presentation, just as well.
In the center, Aardwalden envisioned a large round table with many seats and a miniature map of the expedition holding at its center for discussion, flanked by smaller tables with two to four seats each. Between both halls would be a bar, kitchen, and pantry. Even if he did not consume of food and rarely made merry, he suspected morale would stay high and cause him less problems if he did at least this much for them.
Scratching the surface with his stone nails, Aardwalden spent the next ten minutes or so outlining where the various projects would be, the first of which would be the Runeforging Lab and Smithy.
Retrieving his pick and the stone gathering Schist Rod he’d fashioned the day before, Aardwalden set them aside and ran his hands along the smooth dorway he’d outlined, six and a half feet in height with a rugged rise of stone. The commons were anything but level along the edges. He needed to work from an elevated position and come back down.
The hill was above the aquifer of the sea, so at least water wasn’t pooling into every crevice. Breaching the aquifer would be a problem in and of itself, but he didn’t linger on the thought.
Hefting up his pickaxe, Aardwalden rolled the creaking stones of his shoulders before Enmeshing the stone tool with a layer of hugging quartz to reinforce it. He then threw his heavy weight into a swing against the earth. The end of the pick struck the stone and chipped it away, but a second strike dislodged a small boulder that clattered by his feet. Again and again, he struck out against the stone, hollowing out the hall deeper and deeper into the dark until he could see no more.
Picking up a rock, Aardwalden thought carefully to is connection with fire, beseeching it for help, to swaddled his stone in fire. Enmeshing the round object, it soon erupted with a weak flame, his Attunement to the earth vastly diminishing the scope of its power, but it didn’t need to be large nor hot, so the stone had a weaker Enmeshing placed upon it that would last for longer without burning through its aether. He just needed light, and so he set it down upon the foot of the hall where it cast its warm radiance enough for him to see the stone ahead with his light-sensitive, gnomish eyes.
Like the day before, as the earth threatened to him that it might cave, he smoothed it into a round pattern that supported itself, sculpting the ceiling smooth. He pressed deeper into the earth, digging out another ten feet for the hall, and then began hammering at the floor with his pick to dig deeper down, the rocks piling up in the commons area as he dragged them away with a scoop of his axe. The bigger boulders he simply hefted up and tossed out. Pity anyone who dared get in the way.
After some time, a few hours, he had a hall mostly hollowed, and he Sculpted the floor to leave it mostly smooth. Moving heaps of rock was straining on the elements, as was fine detail. Being rough and doing much of the digging saved him from Overstepping, and unlike a human, his earthen biology helped him to dig without end. There was a certain novelty to it, a naturalness and private quietude he’d never known before. He understood now why the Deepborn of his time were so passionate about digging in the mines often by their lonesome to lay claim to whatever they found.
With the workshop hall mostly finished, Aardwalden measured out a doorway on the right side, then began chiseling out a ledge for himself with his pick, stepping up into the earth until that six and a half foot ceiling he’d marked was met, and then he struck inside deeper still.
This… was going to take awhile. The size of a proper Runesmithing Lab necessitating much space for the various instruments and securities, let alone a makeshift one. He allowed himself a depth and width of twenty feet, leaving four columns of schist five feet from the corners to bare the weight of the stone, fashioning concave domes between each square section across the imaginary grid this created. Once he’d halfway deep dug much of the room and cleared it of stone, he broke earth on the second half.
By the time Aardwalden finished, it was nearing dawn, and he hadn’t even touched the room for the smithy. That would come later. To save himself time, he’d left the edges of the Runesmith Lab with stone tables along the sides and far end of the room, as well as a round boulder of roughly hewn stone towards the center that would eventually serve as a kiln if he could pull off the Scrivening required.
To make proper, worthy tools, Aardwalden knew he would need a forge to work metal, though for glass he suspected he could blend fire and sand to his aims. Clambering cross the piles of loose stone, he broke ground on the smithy. He only needed a place for a furnace, a forge, an anvil, and a tool rack, so this took far less longer than the larger room he’d just dug, digging out a roughly half moon shape for the two large structures and then digging deeper to hollow out the room.
For now, both rooms would remain unfurnished. Furnishing the smithy was a project for later in the day, as both would require fume stacks he wasn’t keen on mining at just this moment, and he wagered the extensive detail required to Sculpt the needed tools might just push him into Strain.
Seeing the deep blue light of morning at the maw of the cave, Aardwalden picked up his Schist rod and stood in the foyer of his Hill Home, pushing in the stone plug to activate it and pointing it down at the loose earth he’d mined. It began to rattle and quiver, rolling towards him in a great heap, though not all at once. The gnome guided it out the door and out the steps, the many rocks and boulders tumbling by as he arrived upon the beach and spread them out, slowly piling on a foundation of stone rubble for future expansion. Industry was always so unsightly in this phase, but Aardwalden didn’t mind. In due time, as they say.
After a few trips of hauling stone, Aardwalden's Schist Rod went inert from overuse, so he went back and moved a few armfuls by hand to at least clear out his smithy. Then, clapped his hands together and considered the night done, heading outside to gaze upon the bay for sunrise. Peering at the bright sliver of sun rising to the eastern sea, Aardwalden felt the daze of Madness settling in, and sat upon his steps, removing the pack from his shoulders and extracting an Aetherite Dragonshard. Pressing it to his lips, he breathed its energies inwards, clarity coming to him the more the Dragonshard dimmed, until it was dark and inert.
”I should explore and find more Dragonshards soon, else I will have none to ply my craft having drained these all by my lonesome,” Aardwalden thought to himself, gazing over the dim encampments. ”There is still so much work left to do. Progress is slow, but steady.”
Loot
- Smithy (Unfurnished)
- Runeforging Lab (Unfurnished)
- - -
