Legend of Ransera

Posted: **Mon Oct 05, 2020 9:25 pm**

10th of Ash, 120th Year of the Age of Steel

Talon followed Lyra down the stairs into what could only be considered the inner sanctum of his workshop. This was where Talon truly came alive as a proprietor of the Skyforge. This was where the heart of his craft was made manifest. He could not recall how many hours he had spent toiling away at the forge, working toward mastering his understanding of how to manipulate the aether pathways within objects in order to forge artifacts of worth and wonder. As comfortable as he was in his shop, he was truly at home within the forge. The path down to the actual workshop was straightforward. The staircase lead to a broad open landing that gave an overview of an open floor plan. Polished wood lined the walls along with shelves where Talon stored the various non-perishable reagents that he sometimes used in his most basic crafting. Tools of all sorts, both those he used personally and some of which he was working to either reinforce or mend for others, were kept in separate neatly sectioned off stations.

On the right hand side of the workshop there were several workbenches. Upon the one nearest to the bottom of the staircase, there was what looked to be a sewing and leatherworking station. It was apparent by the tools upon its surface that whatever it was for, it was meant to be used for the crafting of more soft clothing as opposed to armor materials. Directly across from that workbench on the opposite wall to the left of the stairs was a workstation clearly dedicated to the work of a jeweler. Talon was only recently moving into the field of creating and fashioning his own jewelry. He was not a master of the trade but he was slowly working his way up toward creating finer pieces.

In the center of the room there was an island that, in any other setting one might have mistaken it for a bar except that there were no glasses or cutlery present on it. Above it hung various tools that looked like a combination of blacksmithing, jewelcrafting and even materials that befit more of a scribe. Strewn about the surface of the island were various dragonshards resting at the center of glyph circles. That was something else that stood out about the workstations. Each of the surfaces of the workbenches were not wood or stone but were slabs of what appeared to be gemstone. The surfaces were inlaid with carefully carved symbols that were obviously pictography designed to assist in the process of runeforging. At the far end of the workspace, dominating the far wall, was the aetherforge. A combination of dragonshard construction, stonework and iron, the forge was aglow with aethereal power. The gemlike surface of the forge swirled with the evidence of its arcane nature. The anvil resting just in front of it was made of the same material, and various basins and other aids to the main forge seemed to be crafted of the same substance.

As they reached the bottom of the stairs, Talon let his hands rest at the small of his back. He took a moment to survey his workshop and felt a great deal of pride within himself. He had built this place and made it into the shop it was that day.

“Welcome to my workshop, Lyra.” Talon took in a deep breath. The air was lightly scented with what smelled of roses, cinnamon and the sickly sweet and unsettling essence of decay tinged with ozone. They were the smells that Talon had come to associate with magic. The Novalys heir didn’t have to use his Semblance to know that the very air in this place was saturated with latent aether from the amount of work that went on in this place. Lining the walls were various glyphs that actively worked to keep things at a manageable level. At the very core of the magical apparatus forming what Lyra had referred to as Thallium’s Cage, was the aetherforge itself. The residual aether was pulled from the air and funneled into the aetherforge where it would mix and eventually Talon would see it discharged as viscerite. He then typically fashioned them into rudimentary crystals that he then used to create low-grade Sorcerer’s Sand or even Spellwright’s Ink.

“So, is it what you were expecting?” He could not help the slight touch of amusement that filtered into his voice as he strode forward. On each side of the room there were two open doorways. One lead to what appeared to be storage space. The other to the bare bones of the makings of another workshop of some sort.

Posted: **Tue Oct 06, 2020 5:36 pm**

A thin finger trailed along the polished surface of the railing of the stairs. Black nails ticked softly against the wood as Lyra descended, her eyes scanning the walls until the stairway opened up into the open floor of the forge. With every step the density of Aether seemed to increase, seeming to buzz against her skin and making the hairs of her arms stand on end. This was an odd reaction, Lyra noted, glancing down at her arm as she felt this sensation. She had not intended to give herself this level of tactile function. Then again, perhaps it was a testament to the pure density of aether in the room.

Stepping out onto the landing Lyra wrapped her arms around herself, suppressing a shiver as she breathed in deeply. If the shop above had been flooded with aether, this forge was absolutely saturated by it. To the elf's parched senses it felt like sweet nectar on parched lips, and for a few brief seconds, she found she could not speak. Beside her, she could hear the faint hum of pride from Talon, and she glanced toward him with a smile. At this point, Lyra took the time to examine the forge itself, and the different stations it held. Goldeyes skimmed the two nearest stations, lingering on the pictographs carved on the gem-like surface of the tables, but her focus was quickly drawn to the forge. Pure, unrestrained power welled from it in waves she had not seen since before her imprisonment. Looking up and around Lyra traced the glyphs with her eyes, her mind skimming over thoughts like a bird over the ocean waves.

"It... is more than I expected." her words came out as a whisper, and she closed her eyes once more. The glyphs along her body seemed to shimmer slightly, and after they did the woman's eyes would snap open. Raising a hand before her eyes Lyra looked at the markings critically, pulling back her sleeve to reveal that the markings continued on up to her forearm. Clucking her tongue Lyra covered her arm once more, folding her hands at her waist once more as she looked around.

"Aether, in its purest form, is potential. Adaptable, ever-changing, fluctuating to the will of those who work with it. Some would call it chaotic, but I would argue it follows a certain order all its own." Glancing sideways at Talon Lyra began making her way down into the room, a sharp intake of breath following as the density of Aether only increased. She wandered over to the new crafting table, resting a slightly trembling hand on its surface as she leaned forward to examine the pictograph, "Not all aether is pure, as I am sure you are aware. It carries with it ideals, concepts, and properties from what it was, what it will be, and what it could be. This sort of Aether is responsible for any number of odd effects in our world, deemed magical in nature. The greater the density of this form of aether the higher the likelihood that some errant mutation might occur, which can affect both living and non-living things."

Turning Lyra rested her weight on the table, frowning slightly in concentration. Her movements were slightly slower, but her mind suddenly felt so light. Her thoughts came in waves, crashing, and flooding with freedom and certainty that she had not had before. Was it because of the Aether density? Because the air here was closer to what her soul was accustomed to? With a bit of surprise Lyra realized that, until this moment, her mind had been entrapped in a fog, slow and clumsy like her body. She would need to investigate this further.

Raising one hand, palm outward so that Talon could see the glyph marks there Lyra continued, "Consider this a lesson in exchange for your trust. Aether density and the levels of pure vs purposed aether have an effect on creatures and objects. For instance, a glyph that is not properly tasked to perform properly within an aether rich space can be affected or disrupted. Especially if that particular glyph is designed to improve the flow of Aether in a body." The designs on her palm shimmered once more, a few of the dots seeming to fray ever so slightly at the edges. With a sigh the elf closed her hand and leaned more heavily on the table, shaking her head, "You should consider adjusting your schema. The density levels in this room could cause undue harm to someone sensitive to the levels here. The purpose of Thallium's Cage is to collect and condense the loose Aether into a more confined space, limiting its effects on the world."

Pausing Lyra breathed in slowly, smiling before looking at Talon, "Would you provide me with a bit of a verbal tour? What do you utilize each station for, and what," she waved at the air with a shaky hand, "Do you use all of this condensed Aether for?"

Posted: **Tue Oct 06, 2020 8:38 pm**

For a moment it seemed as though Lyra was overwhelmed by what she was seeing around her. It was a curious reaction for certain but without knowing her story, what the woman had experienced in her life, Talon could not judge. He wondered briefly if she came from a place where magic was restricted in some way. Certainly there were social norms to observe in Kalzasi when it came to discussing the topic with a practitioner but it wasn’t forbidden in any way. As the woman glided forward into his workshop, Talon simply observed her and listened as she gave an impromptu lecture on the nature of aether. Much of what she said, Talon was aware of in the intellectual sense. However, hearing it put into such scientific terms by someone other than himself was rather refreshing. When she raised her hand to display the glyph drawn upon the palm, Talon watched as almost imperceptible the symbols seemed to fray at the edges after shimmering slightly.

“Aether flow in the body?” He quirked a brow, cocking his head to the side slightly as he observed her. He let the question linger in the air but did not press for any further information. Suddenly the distortion in her aura made a little more sense. He would not intrude but he had a feeling that the woman suffered from something affecting her ability to manipulate aether properly. That would certainly have explained why she was covered head to toe in pictography and had such a wealth of knowledge on the subject. After a moment’s pause he merely nodded, filing away that particular facet of knowledge pertaining to glyphs and pictograph symbols for potential use in the future.

“Now that you have brought attention to it, I will be working to improve the integrity of the glyphs myself. It will take some time but I have never been satisfied with outsourcing materials or work that I could otherwise do or learn myself. Call it pride, but I want to know that what I do and what I work with is up to my standards.” He frowned as he regarded the glyphs lining the walls of his shop. “Clearly, I have some studying to do.”

Tucking away that thought, Talon scanned the workshop for a moment before gesturing to the workbench immediately to his right. It had upon its surface what looked to be the tools of both a tailor and a leatherworker.

“The clothing items within this shop are all made from spellthread, mageweave cloth or aetherforged leather. I personally handcraft each garment. I am not a master leatherworker or tailor but I am making progress the more I create. Essentially, what I do is melt down the components required to fashion the enchantment requested by the commissioner paying for the garment. Once the material has been melted down into its raw aetheric state, the forge compresses it into a crystal substance called viscerite. I am then able to work it into the shape and a facsimile of the material desired, provided that material was included in the viscerite ore.” He gestured to the workbench upon which rest what appeared to be the beginnings of a schematic for a pair of bracers. Notes were scrawled across paper along with various sketches, designs and measurements.

“The surface of each workbench is a solid slab of raw aetherite. Untainted and routinely purified. I carved the pictographs into them myself. I could use an ordinary workbench and simply utilize the runeforged tools but using a dedicated dragonshard workbench along with the tools and pictography ensures I have as minimal room for error as possible. Not to mention it ensures the aether I am working with has less of a chance of destabilizing.”

Gesturing to the workbench across from them he walked up to what appeared to be a jewelers tinkering station. Various gemstones, tools, the makings of pieces of jewelry, all rest upon the surface of the workbench.

“This is my jewler’s station. It is where I work on both accessories such as rings, bracelets, amulets and the like as well as refine the residual aether drawn from the density around us into crystals to be put toward other purposes.” He nodded to some of the tools. “The tools are all crafted by me. They work to ensure that the aether I am working on is guided into the structure and pathways I require. They too are runeforged artifacts.”

Talon ran his fingers along the surface of the center island in the middle of the room. He folded his wings in more tightly so that he didn’t disturb any of the crystals resting in the glyphed circles on the surface of the workspace. His grey eyes traveled to each of the crystals.

“This workstation is used specifically for dragonshard refinement. Nothing else. Many people only ever encounter the weakest forms of the crystals but what I do often requires much more powerful ones. This workstation is designed to both hone and enhance the aether running through each crystal. I then isolate and break away impurities found within the shards so that the most potent version of the crystals can be used.”

Finally, Talon turned to the most important section of the entire workshop. He spread his arms wide.

“This is the aetherforge. It is a runeforged artifact in and of itself. Different runesmiths work with different types of forges. I use a standard aetherite forge. The condensed aether gathered in the forge is spit out as viscerite. I then refine it after studying it to discern if it has any useful properties. If it is salvageable, I use it to create Spellwright’s Ink or Sorcerer’s Sand, mostly.”

Posted: **Wed Oct 07, 2020 10:50 pm**

At Talon's question Lyra merely shrugged, pulling her sleeve down further as if to hide the markings. In truth what she felt was something akin to embarrassment. She, one who claimed such vast knowledge of glyphs and pictographs... had made a mistake. Though to be fair, she could not have expected to find a place with such dense Aether as was found in the forge. The glyphs were designed to allow her to better control and receive feedback from the vessel her true form inhabited, doing so by allowing her own aether to flow more efficiently. In her arrogance however she did not place the proper wards in place, and so the glyph did exactly as intended. It cycled aether throughout the vessel. She had not prevented the glyph from absorbing ambient Aether, in addition to her own. Normally this would be of no concern, given the levels of power in the air of the world now. Yet here in Talon's forge... The thick streams of Aether disrupted the flow of her own within the glyph, causing her to lose some control of her physical form, and was steadily wearing away at the glyphs themselves.

Grimacing Lyra shuffled along the edge of the jewel crafting workbench, using it for support as she made a slow track toward the end farthest from the forge. She glanced back over her shoulder at Talon as he started speaking, her brow creasing in confusion at his words. As he continued Lyra finally made her way to the end, once there resting her weight on the workbench and sighing softly to herself. Her eyes followed Talon as he began his tour, a small smile turning the corner of her lips at his enthusiasm.

As he spoke on spellthread and magical garments the woman glanced down at her own robes, the smile slipping to a look of thoughtful contemplation. She, perhaps, could do with a change in attire herself. At the word 'viserite' Lyra glanced up at Talon, tilting her head thoughtfully.

So, he takes the materials and components and breaks them down to their fundamental form. Her eyes roamed over the schematic then, lingering on the notes at the edges, He is then able to take the raw aether and reshape it, giving it form once more with additional features The process was somewhat familiar, yet somehow different from what the mages of old did themselves. As she thought of this Lyra began turning over her memories, searching for an example to compare, and was met only with blackness. Her expression fell to frustration as she once more was met with a hole in her memory, something that was becoming more and more common.

Shaking her head she looked down at the workbench she leaned against, eyeing it as Talon described it as "aetherite" and asserting that he himself carved the pictographs across their surface. That statement gave Lyra pause, and she looked at the man skeptically. It seemed... odd to her, that he would claim knowledge of pictographs, despite his previous words that he needed to learn more of glyphs. Magic hummed in her veins as Lyra listened, yet she could sense no lies from the man, which only left the old elf puzzled. Though few focused on the script of the gods like Lyra herself had, almost all of the mages, and especially the Archmages, of the past had at least an adept level of knowledge in the scripts. To find one who was not versed in pictographs was not just unusual, it was nearly laughable in its absurdity.

Blinking Lyra realized she had been staring and quickly turned her eyes back to the table. Frowning she leaned forward, tracing the design of the pictograph with a finger. It was complex, intricate. Contain, stabilize, orient, fracture, combine, manipulate. The list went on as the multiple pictographs wound themselves into one larger whole which, with a smirk, Lyra realized simply read 'gem shaping'. A simple concept if read as one, but the deeper one looked at the pictograph the more one realized just how much went into this one workbench. Then Lyra noticed something odd, a pictograph that was slightly off from the rest. Moving closer Lyra stared at this outlier, squinting before looking up at the ceiling. She then knelt, examining beneath the bench before rising with a shake of her head.

When it was mentioned Lyra would pick up one of the smaller tools on the table, which looked like a long handled hook. It too was covered in pictographs, and turning it over in her hands Lyra was surprised to see that they held a very specific purpose. Carve without disruption, the tool could be used to cut designs or outlines in even Dragonshards, and the lines themselves would not cause the shard to become unstable. Setting the tool down Lyra began edging back toward the stairs, reaching a hand out to rest on the smooth wooden railing. She could still feel the glyphs on her vessel straining against the flood of power in this place.

Lyra's head snapped up when Talon mentioned refining dragonshards, and she stared at him with eyes widened, a slight dumfounded look on her face as she processed his words. She stared at him, an intensity in her golden eyes that had not been there before. What he was saying was... ridiculous. Even in her time the process of refining dragonshards was considered costly and dangerous. Just one minor mistake could lead to catastrophe, yet...

Surprised Lyra felt her knees give way slightly, and with as much grace as possible she lowered herself to the steps, one hand gripping the railing while the other braced against the step farther up. Once she was sure she was secure she let her hands rest in her lap, and her eyes returned to stare at Talon with a mix of skepticism and curiosity.

When he spread his arms, moving toward the Forge, Lyra looked past him, staring hungrily at the artifact that was the source of the Aetheric density in this place. Her soul screamed at her to get closer, to look and understand just HOW he was making this place so rich in life, yet even as she thought this she was reminded by a twitch in her left leg that she could not afford to approach any closer. Once more she cursed her oversight. If she could just see how this Atherite forge was created, perhaps she could recreate something similar in her own space. Oh what she could do with condensed aether such as this...

The process is not what I remember, but the products are true artifacts. Lyra mused to herself, pushing a stray hair behind her ear, The methods are not refined, yet this man speaks of refining dragonshards as if it were the simplest of thing. Perhaps I have underestimated these children... It seems that more has changed than I could have ever expected.

Lyra was quiet for some time after Talon finished, simply looking around the workshop, a growing sense of appreciation for the time and energy which the man must have put into this space. It was the first that since her release that Lyra felt a sort of kinship with one of these people. She, too, could remember that sense of pride, a note which when she listened sung through his melody like trilling flute of a final solo, a feeling she felt after completing a new design or improving on a schema once thought perfect.

After perhaps a bit too long Lyra blinked and looked back at Talon, a smile quirking her lips, "If ever you wish to end your career as a crafter, I believe you would make a fine bard. You have a way with words which enraptures an audience, at least where your passion is concerned." There was a long pause as Lyra seemed to consider something, before coming to a final decision.

She pointed toward the Jewel crafting workstation, waving a finger absently in the air as she spoke, "Upon that workbench is a pictograph which does not match with the rest. I am uncertain if you placed it there of your own accord, or if it was suggested by the one who designed your current schema. In any case it is the first flaw that I see." Looking up Lyra pointed toward a line of glyphs that were etched in the ceiling, moving toward the forge at the back. Directly over the workbench itself another pictograph branched off, matching the one on the surface of the station. "It is a part of a glyph pair, one which links it to the crude Thallium's Cage. It appears it is meant to draw from the condensed aether collected by the encompassing glyphs going toward the forge. Perhaps the one who made this alteration thought the atherite would help compensate for the inefficiency, using this design to supplement the aether the gem normally produces." At that statement Lyra truly frowned, distasted coloring her features, "I would have much to say on that line of thought, but for now I shall leave it be. In any case Thallium's Cage was not meant to have such large gaps between connection points. This is partially what has lead to the over saturation of Aether throughout not just your forge, but your shop as well."

Here Lyra paused once more, giving Talon time to process what she had said before she continued, "You mentioned you could create spellwrights ink." Her eyes lit with mischief, and she traced the line of glyphs that ran from the corner of her eye down to her cheek with one long nailed finger, "I might be persuaded to assist you with your... studies, and endeavors in the ways of the scripts. That is, if you show me how you prepare the ink yourself." The smile she wore widened slightly, "I believe we may be useful to one another, not just now but in the future."

Posted: **Mon Oct 12, 2020 7:16 pm**

When Lyra spoke, her words complimentary as she noted his passion for speechcraft, Talon could help but feel slightly embarrassed. It was not often that he got to go into depth about the workings of his profession. His duties at the palace, as an emissary for his father, and even as a merchant often required that he be succinct with his words, and quick in his actions and thinking. In the sanctity of his workshop, he could take a deep breath and simply focus on something he was passionate about. It was a space where he was free of pomp and circumstance. He did not have to wait for a crier to announce his arrival through a door, he did not have to stand on ceremony as he acknowledged the passing of guards or the attentiveness of servants. He was not being doted on or waited for hand and foot, in this space he could be just Talon, a man who spent as much time as he could focusing on figuring out how to make the world, frightening as it was, just a little more magical. It was in this workshop that he truly felt he knew why he loved Kalzasi so much, because he had the freedom to pursue this passion without fear of reprisal provided he remained a fair and honest businessman.

“You flatter me, Lyra. Sadly, the life of a bard will never be for me. Beyond these walls I have…” He paused, steel colored eyes glancing over Lyra’s form as she rested upon the stairs. A sliver of concern for her passed through him. “...other duties.”

Talon left it at that. For the moment, there was no purpose in revealing exactly who he was. She was a foreigner. She would learn the dynamics of Kalzasi’s politics soon enough. At least, she would learn them if she chose to say within the city for very long. He followed her gaze as she pointed to his jewelcrafting workstation. His eyes immediately fell upon the very glyph that she was referring to. It was a pictograph that he had placed himself. Stepping up to it he ran his fingers over the symbol, studying it carefully. His eyes traced over the pictograph and he recalled its meaning and purpose within the overall schematics of the design she referred to as Thallium’s Cage. Talon turned his attention to other parts of the workshop where similar such flaws existed. As she explained some of her reasoning, he could follow it to a degree. He was not as versed in the general lore of Scrivening as she apparently was. Talon’s talents for pictography was centered mostly in the actual field required to work the forge. The work and conceptualization that went into glyphs surrounding that were things he had to consult to either draw himself or hire an outside worker.

“I believe I can see what you are referring to.” He let out a breath as he considered the work that would have to go into overhauling some of the design that was present in the workshop. If what she said was true then his shop was a ticking time bomb merely waiting for the right match to cause an explosion. The shop was designed fundamentally to account for such a possibility but there was no sense in being without other safety measures. What Lyra had just done, with just a cursory examination, was save him an immense amount of pain and hardship down the road. Talon would not forget that.

“Aye. I craft it fairly regularly. The Sky Guard battlemages and other practitioners of magic visit me from time to time in search of it. I carry common grade inks and I only make more potent forms upon request as the creation of spellwright’s ink is not my specialty.” He listened to her proposal, considering the implications. Talon needed to become more proficient in the way of Scrivening. It was no longer a want but something that was necessary for the continued success of his arcane endeavors. He could provide her with one of his early manuscripts going through the motions of how to begin the process of working through spellwright’s ink as a runesmith. It was different from the work of an alchemist and while the two fields produced something that could be considered the same product, there were differences that were noticeable to those who used the material.

“I believe you may be right, Lyra.” Talon’s wings fluttered slightly as he thought through the possibilities.

“I shall make you an offer. You have brought attention to something crucial in my shop. You have also shared your knowledge with me and in so doing, helped me in my effort to revise a few internal workings. That knowledge is valuable.” Talon nodded to the glasses that Lyra still possessed.

“I am willing to part with those for a discounted price if they interest you. Normally, they are priced at roughly 600 gold avens. I would be willing to part with them for 400 gold avens.” Talon walked over to one of the shelves where he kept his journals detailing many of his experiments and explorations in the way of runeforging. He ran his fingers over the bindings until he got to one of his earliest works that focused on the fundamentals of what he had learned. He opened the book, the well-thumbed pages were covered in his sharp, swift handwriting. He flipped to the pages detailing his first forays into the creation of spellwright’s ink. Walking over to Lyra he extended the book to her.

“I am willing to let you copy these passages from my notes to study. We can then arrange for a more formal instruction when you are in better health.” He did not miss the slight tremor to her hands. He also understood, at least to some degree, that the symbols painted across her body were in some way helping her process aether. He did not know what she must have gone through to have such a disability, especially as a mage, but he did not pry.

“What say you?”

Posted: **Wed Oct 14, 2020 11:46 pm**

Lyra raised an eyebrow at Talon's mention of 'other duties', but she raised no question of her own. She knew very well that people kept secrets, things locked beyond walls and locks that they wished none to ever discover. That, however, was precisely what drew to them the attention of the Whispers. Those dark things hidden away are what secretly drive a person's actions, pushing them toward a cliff's edge until they finally succumb, falling either to madness or seeking refuge in their basest desires.

Without thinking Lyra began to reach out to Talon, magic singing in her veins as she tuned to the melody that he carried. She caressed those tendrils, listening to the darkness that rested beneath song of life and passion. She wanted to do something then, something familiar yet unreachable in her mind... With a frown Lyra shook her head, releasing her magic and focusing back on Talon as he looked up from examining his workbench. For just a moment Lyrielle began to stir. Lyra felt her, her true self, purring deep within her soul, pushing for her to act, to weave a symphony of temptation in this man's heart. Pull his mind and soul out by the roots and play with them, twist them, make him fall to that inner desire that all men possessed. She felt a tingling of a memory, dark and fragmented at the edges. A flash of shining eyes and searing pain, and then it was gone.

When they were mentioned Lyra would pull the aura glasses from her pocket, having forgotten they were there. She frowned as she turned them over, considering the offer. She chewed on her lip, thoughts turning slowly when she glanced up at Talon, seeing an odd look in his eye. Glancing down she saw her hand trembled faintly where she held the glasses, and the old elf smiled to herself.

"Is that concern I see in you, Be'melar?" Lyra asked as she accepted the book. Her eyes cast over the page, drinking in the knowledge there as she ran a single finger over the lines and the subsequent drawings there. In reality it only took her a few seconds to gather an overall idea of the process, but she kept her eyes fixed on the page for a time afterward to gather her own thoughts. Finally she sighed, and raised a hand up to Talon for him to take, "Very well. Though I would rather see you perform the act now, I shall exercise patience. This place is unfortunately wreaking more havoc on my own schema than I anticipated."

Stowing the glasses back in the pocket of her robes, Lyra would use Talon's outstretched hand to pull herself to her feet. Her limb's trembled slightly, but what caused the most difficulty was the minor muscle spasms. It was slow at first, but with each step Lyra gained just a bit more control over her vessel once more. The raging aether of the forge quickly thinned out noticeably as they reached the halfway point, a fact that the elf took note of.

"It is a wasting sickness." Lyra broke the silence by answering an unspoken question. She didn't look at Talon, but kept her eyes fixed on the stairs, being careful to place each foot before shifting her weight, "I am certain you can see it with those eyes. This body... does not readily accept or move aether. The schema I utilize is a modified version of the branching corridors, a rather pretentious way of saying it is design to make aether move more uniformly. Without it this body would likely have begun to rot by now, and as a result of the inefficiency I am at a constant aetheric deficit." It wasn't precisely a lie, though it was not really the truth either. It fit somewhere in the middle, a grey zone which Lyra found she occupied more often than not. Ever since she was released Lyra knew that she would have to face this moment eventually. This body, and any body she chose after this, would slowly waste away and rot unless she found a way to make her possession more stable. A part of her mind, the oldest part, knew there was a way, but the exact how was all but lost to her. Though she still stared at the steps, her eyes became distant, a feeling of resignation overcoming her for several more steps before she continued in a softer voice, "I will need to update this schema to account for higher aether densities. As it is now it is indiscriminate, pulling on excess aether in the air to supplement my own to ensure this body can continue to move. When a large amount of aether is suddenly introduced though it disrupts my own control, leading to this state you now find me. It is... embarrassing, and I would ask that you speak of this to no one else."

By the time they reached the top the trembling had all but stopped, and Lyra took her hand back, stretching and flexing her fingers and wiggling her toes. She waved her free hand at Talon' with a half smile, "As you can see, once I am away from the forge all is well once more."

With more sure steps Lyra moved to the counter, resting the book upon it with the page still open to the notes Talon had indicated. To the side she saw quill and ink, as well as some loose papers likely used for quick notes or taking information from customers. After ensuring it was ok Lyra would take one of the sheets of paper and a quill, settling down and beginning to scribble as she glanced at the book from time to time.

"I do not have 400 gold to spare at the moment." Lyra said, distractedly as she worked. She was not writing with words, but was instead transcribing Talon's notes into diagrams, similar to pictographs. Each step in the process she created a symbol for, and utilized other scrivening forms to indicate aether flow, state changes and to represent different forms of matter and properties. Where Talon's notes were well written and documented with languages and diagrams, Lyra was turning them into pictures that told a story. There was still a slight tremor in her fingers from time to time, so some of the lines were a bit jagged, a fact that made Lyra glare at the drying ink as she raised the paper up to examine a few lines.

"200 gold avens." she continued, setting the paper down to drawing once more, "That is what I have on my person, for the glasses, and to compensate the rest I can design a schema that you can integrate into the old one in your shop. It will make your aether control more efficient, and less aether will be waisted and allowed to simply collect and be contained. I can provide the first draft before I leave today, and provide assistance in the implementation when I come back for my own lesson."

Finishing her work Lyra looked up at Talon, tilting her head, "Would that be sufficient?"

Posted: **Sat Oct 17, 2020 2:47 pm**

Talon merely inclined his head at Lyra’s request to leave the workshop. He extended his hand offering it to her after noting her struggle to compose herself fully there in the aether dense environment. As they ascended the stairs he let the silence settle between them until she answered the unspoken question that had lingered in the air. Her choice of words was a bit odd to Talon but he did not press the matter. The way she spoke of herself it was as though her body was not her own and that it was merely something disposable. When they reached the main floor of his shop, Talon guided her to the counter but released her once she made it clear that she was going to be alright. He folded his arms over his chest offering her another nod of his head.

“Discretion is sometimes part of my profession.” He gave her a wry smile. When Lyra confessed that she did not have the coin to spare for the cost of the glasses, Talon listened closely to her offer. There were several things to consider. That was a steep decrease in the cost of his item but in exchange she was offering to provide a service that would have cost him a similar amount of money to have performed. On top of that, she was offering to teach him how to further the advancement of his own Scrivening techniques. His eyes drifted over to the diagrams that she was drawing on the loose paper nearby. He tapped his chin, considering what what in front of him in that moment.

“200 gold avens?” He paused. “I will accept your offer provided you also throw in a scroll written to enhance the construction of arcane wards. Negation shields, to be precise.” Talon was charitable but he was also running a business establishment that cost resources, time and money to perpetuate. He leaned his hip against a nearby counter, studying the woman in front of him carefully as he watched her work. It was abundantly apparent that she was quite a skilled Scrivener. The details looked quite impressive even at a distance. He could just get a sense of the concepts she was tying to the symbols if he stared at them long enough. The power of his runes of magic assisting him in understanding the ideas being threaded into the rudimentary pictography being sketched across the pages.

Posted: **Mon Oct 19, 2020 4:54 pm**

As Talon thought Lyra carefully blew on the now finished drawings, glancing between it and the notes that Talon had so graciously allowed her to copy. Moving her head this way and that she thought she could see something oddly familiar about the process, though try as she might the woman could not place what had stood out to her. When Talon replied Lyra turned, carefully rolling the paper up and placing it into the pocket of her robes, patting it twice before focusing on Talon fully.

At the mention of 'Negation,' Lyra's eyes would flick to the unknown rune on the avialae's arm. Once more she stared at it, chewing her lips before pulling the glasses from her pocket and sliding them in place on the bridge of her nose. Almost without thought, Lyra began to pull her hair back, producing a tie from one sleeve as she tied the far too long locks into a neat ponytail that rested slightly to the left of her head.

"I find that compromise agreeable." Lyra said slowly, moving forward still eyeing the rune, "Such things are possible. Arcane wards of various types and functions have existed for millennia, if not longer. They are tricky, however, as to control enough power to ward against something you must also be able to contain equal or greater power yourself." She looked over the rim of the glasses at Talon, "It is quite the paradox. To guard against power you require power, yet if you already possess the power equal to that which you guard against there is no need for you to fear a power that is equal or less than your own, no?"

The question was an open one, and Lyra would listen to Talon's answer if he replied before shrugging, "It is a problem without a final solution. Power comes in many forms, and even if the scales are the same the types and form that power takes can be different by several magnitudes. So, how does one ward against something they do not know to ward against?" There was a brief pause and Lyra shook her head, motioning at Talon's arm, palm up in a clear sign she wished to examine his rune. If he allowed she would lean forward, staring intently at the design as if to draw some hidden meaning out, but if not she would let her hand fall to the side, "I shall not bore you with the philosophy of it. Let us leave this topic with a simple answer, there is no true way to ward against what you do not know, not completely at least."

Looking up to meet Talon's eyes, once more the woman was struck by just how tall he actually was. Taking several step backs she motioned to the rune, "That was the answer at one time, at least, but I believe great strides have been made since the man who quoted that line did pass. Tell me, what are 'Negation' shields?" Setting her hands on her hips she stared at the rune, brow furrowed thoughtfully, "I am confident I can do what you ask, but I require more explanation on the type and nature of this magic, as it is unfamiliar to me."

Posted: **Fri Oct 23, 2020 9:13 pm**

“Yes and no, in my experience.” Talon considered her words carefully for a moment. The principles of arcane wards as he understood them did not always necessarily follow the idea of equal power meant equal resistance. “A ward can just as easily block a person’s clothes as opposed to the person themselves. So long as they wear the clothing, they cannot pass the ward. How do you measure the strength of cloth? Is it by the person wearing it or by the skill of the hand that made it?”

He shrugged his shoulders slightly, letting the question linger in the air. It was as Lyra said, the debate among the more philosophical spheres of the arcane community was one that he was versed in. He was only mildly versed in it but he knew of it. At her extended hand, Talon extended his arm allowing her to observe the shape and design of the Rune of Negation upon the back of his hand. The symbol spiraled over the back of his hand in a mix of cerulean and teal forming a pattern of polygonal shapes that wove their way into a more sweeping elegant design around his wrist. To study it was to glean a sense of something always dancing on the edge of one’s thoughts. The more one attempted to focus on the rune and its meaning, the more it seemed to defy that understanding and yet a sense of guardianship emanated from it nevertheless. Focus and meaning flittered across the mind until it solidified into a thought and sense of blankness. The sense was easily dismissed but its meaning was clear enough to any mage to gazed upon the rune.

“Philosophy is hardly a boring subject.” He gave a small chuckle. “I would agree though. Familiarity with a subject lends power to the effectiveness of a ward. It is not always required but it certainly strengthens it.”

He listened to her question. It surprised him to say the least. Negation was considered a common enough magic among mages that it was known by most even if they did not practice it. Rather than offer a verbal explanation, he opted to provide a demonstration for her. Stirring his aether into motion, Talon felt a slight pang of pain as he drew upon it. It was a lingering warning from wounds he still suffered. He exhaled slowly, masking his discomfort as he adjusted his focus in order to draw upon the power of his rune effectively. An azure light spread over his right hand. He touched his finger to the air space just above the surface of the counter leaving a pinpoint of that light in the open space. From that point he drew his finger downward until it touched the counter. He drew his finger along the surface, stopping when he reached just a small distance then reconnected to the dot in the air forming a triangle. As the three key points illuminated, the space between them filled in with aether until the shape was completely filled in. There now stood an azure colored flat triangle with a glassy surface on the counter.

Talon touched the tips of his fingers to the surface of the small shield. He imparted to it one of the simplest of concepts that a negation shield could be given, the basic task of blocking force applied to it. To be immovable. Once that was imparted, he removed his hand and gestured to the glassy triangle. Swirls drifted across the surface of the triangle but it remained upright of its own volition.

“Negation. It is a magic that functions just as the name implies. To negate, to block, to prevent. The ability to craft shields designed to prevent the occurence of the circumstances it is tasked with blocking. This particular shield is tasked simply with blocking physical force.” Talon flicked his finger against the shield. It caused a ripple that gently billowed outward from the point of contact but it remained firm.

Posted: **Sat Oct 24, 2020 12:00 pm**

As Talon worked Lyra stared in rapted facilitation, her eyes widening as she fumbled to push the glasses back up the bridge of her knows. What she saw nearly made her clutch at her chest in surprise. She leaned forward, staring as Talon set the first anchor, drawing the lines one at a time until a free-floating shield hovered over the table. At first, Lyra did not move, but simply looked at the construct. The aether had been gathered at three points, and upon completion it had... snapped? Sprung into place as if it had a will of its own. Even as Talon explained she shook her head, hardly believing what she was seeing.

"Sefalla..." she whispered, almost hissing as she squinted at the shield. She reached a tentative hand forward, flicking the shield and watching mesmerized as she saw the ripples flutter across its surface.

"Fernand's concept of equal exchange of force, the Bernoulli constant flux paradox, fixed space principle..." she said bemused, taking off the glasses and setting them down, though she continued to stare at the shield, "You've completely ignored every principle and law of fixed and continuos wards that have ever been written." She said this matter of factly, but still did not seem to quite believe what she was saying. Of course, there was no way for Talon to know, how could he? This magic, negation as he called it, was something new, from after her time and seemed to defy all Lyra's understanding.

Walking slowly around Lyra observed the shield from the other side, poking it with a finger curiously. Her eyes lingered on the three corners of the shield, talking softly to herself, "Three primary anchor points which are themselves separate and a part of the ward. The aether is densest there, and provides stability?" chewing her lip she looked back at Talon, "What method do you use to task the ward? You drew no script, nor gave signs of verbal commands. Unless..." her eyes grew distant, seeming to work through the possibilities, "The rune interprets intention, similar to other magics. But that is..." gold eyes flicked to the shield again, "Impossible..."

Lyra felt like her mind stuttered slightly, the gears grinding to a halt as she struggled to process something that defied her view of the world. Could she have been this wrong? Was the world that these children created that different?

"What all can be warded against using this method?" she asked finally, forcefully turning away from the shield, "Is it just physical phenomena, or does it extend to the non-physical and magical realms as well?"

Legend of Ransera

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