Ivarr Stonecutter pays little heed to the snow he walks upon to reach the Org. He makes the trip in the early pre-dawn darkness, guided by experience, stars, and a small pinhole lantern on his hip. The snow was several inches deep, but he walks on top with nary a trace as a fey being would, but for all the caution of his footsteps, the dwarf sings.
He bellows a jaunty tune in ancient dwarfish, a song about the beautiful golden hair of a maiden and a king who sought to steal her away for his treasure. The descriptions of her turn more and more lurid as the song goes on, and Ivarr happily sings her praises until he gets to the main door and gives it a heavy knock.
A Swarthy Applicant
There's a buzz as the intercom activates.
"Come on in."
And so the door opens before him on its own.
The desk at the lobby is occupied by a snake-haired woman who gives him a scrutinizing gaze as he enters. "Welcome to MERC, sir. Can I help you with anything?"
Ivarr steps in when the buzzer hits, making certain not to track any snow inside. His lantern is closed with a well practiced motion, done thousands of times without a thought or glance. Polite, he pulls off his rabbit fur cloak and folds it over his arms before walking further.
He is undeniably a dwarf beneath that cloak, though he is a tall and lean one. His black hair and beard are well kept and braided, and he wears a fine coat of Ithilmar(elven) mail interwoven with warm padded fabrics. A pair of long knives, curved and gleaming, rest on his hips among a small arrangement of other tools.
More than anything else though, what might be striking is that he's smiling. Whomever he is, he's genuinely happy and will probably stay that way no matter what life throws at him. Judging by the lines on his face, it has likely thrown a lot at him over the centuries. "Hello!" He bellows cheerfully with a grin, stepping up to the counter. "I was told this was one of the places I could go to in order to get some adventure."
The woman folds her hands together as he approaches. Noting the confidence he moves with and the lines on his face.
Well, at least she wouldn't have to ask this man his age. Seriously, what was up with all the teenagers that wanted to join as of late?
"That's certainly something we do, yes." She replies with a glean in her eye. "So what sort of adventure are you looking for exactly, sir? A dungeon perhaps? Or are you interested in something more long-term?"
There's a twinkle in Ivarr's eyes as he leans onto the counter. "I was looking for something more long term. A membership, i think. Though I would be dishonest if i did not lay out my intentions. I plan to hit a few other Orgs to sign up with them as well. I'm not looking for a job or income, just some adventure and to provide my own knowledge and experiences to the pool. " He explains, straightening up a little and gesturing like he has nothing up his sleeves.
That makes the gorgons eyebrows raise. "Small advice then, being up-front is good but you should probably tell the next organization your name before you get into your plans." She winks and then gestures to herself. "Mine is Dena Xifhara and I happen to be one of the co-directors of this organization. And if you ask why I'm out here doing lobby-duty, then let's just say I like to keep in touch with my employees." Dena smiles.
"But it sounds like you're looking for a license rather than membership then mister sir. No conflict of interest and as much adventure as you can, well, carry. Since there so happens to be a whole lot of untouched dungeons out there." The co-director gestures out towards one of the windows. "I've scouted them out myself actually, being something of an adventurer too. Didn't loot them of course, just marked them out for the interest of capable people such as yourself."
Ivarr looks properly embarrassed when his lack of introduction is pointed out, and he backs up a step to bow. "Pardon me. I got ahead of myself in excitement. I am Ivarr Stonecutter. It is a joy to meet you, Lady Xifhara." He apologizes, sincere as he listens to the rest of what Dena has to say. Ivarr turns to look at the window when she gestures to it, and for a few moments he is silent as he peers out either daydreaming of the future or reminiscing of the past.
Then he laughs, shaking his head at himself. "For a moment I was letting the idea of treasure run me. Almost felt like a Shortbeard again at the anticipation." He smiles gently, though he doesn't seem to be telling the entire truth there. Something else kept him from leaping immediately at the offer.
"The license. Would I still be on a roster for contracts, even if it is a more limited one? I am a rather experienced traveler and a Master Mason and Architect. I look for new experiences, new places and worlds, rather than just dungeons. My Beloved would be rolling if i kept Adventure defined merely by dungeons, though I'm not adverse to exploring them. " Now there was the full truth that had held him back from a rash decision.
Lady Xifhara? Was that he called all women in higher positions?
"No need to apologize, mister Stonecutter. It's a common mistake." Especially in the nexus it seemed. "But to actually answer your question, you would still be on the rooster for contracts but actual members would have 'dibs' on them as it were. That said, nothing stops you from tagging along with said member on the contract. So unless there's a specific person limit on a contract this isn't really a big deal."
She pauses, meeting Ivarr's gaze.
"But architect, huh? Now that makes you a dangerous man, mister Stonecutter. Especially if you're planning to join several organizations. Knowing the layout of every structure you help build... not something you want to fall into enemy hands. Or even the hands of supposed allies."
Arne inhales sharply, and for a moment, it sounds as though he's going to reply... but instead he simply stands there, still a stiff, immobile suit of armor, continuing to stare almost straight ahead.
Until Jaahlyn makes herself known and starts to walk away. At which point Arne's gaze follows her, visibly tilting his helmet the steeper an angle she stand relative to him.
It takes a moment before he replies again, snapping his attention back to Krayger. Or rather, the wall behind Krayger.
"Sir Arne of Blekdal, sir! I served three years under Lord Alun's division of Her Majesty's Royal Army, sir! Lunamancer third class, battleschool graduate, with hon-"
Arne falls silent for a conspicuously long time.
"...with honors. Sir." He continues, his voice dropping in volume and momentarily wavering. "...Will that be sufficient, sir?"
Entryway
"I'm still going to need you to put all that down on the form." Krayger explains. "You can write, yes?"
It's technically not required. Krayger could dictate if necessary.
"Of course, sir." Arne nods an affirmation. After a moment, he will reach for the pen and examine the desk top with a stoic expression behind his helmet, before experimentally scratching at the paper with the pen and giving another nod.
Arne will be quick filling out the form, showing surprisingly flowery handwriting. He repeats all the information he just gave Krayger on the form, but includes a few other details he didn't elaborate on when he recited his credentials to Krayger. His weapon skills, while extensive, are mostly focused around the halberd, which he intends to provide. He also notes "smithing and metallurgy" under his skillset, seperate from anything else.
Who're you? ...Don't matter.
Want some rye? Course ya do!
Here's to us!
Who's like us?
Damn few,
And they're aaaaall dead.
Lady Xifhara? Was that he called all women in higher positions?
"No need to apologize, mister Stonecutter. It's a common mistake." Especially in the nexus it seemed. "But to actually answer your question, you would still be on the rooster for contracts but actual members would have 'dibs' on them as it were. That said, nothing stops you from tagging along with said member on the contract. So unless there's a specific person limit on a contract this isn't really a big deal."
She pauses, meeting Ivarr's gaze.
"But architect, huh? Now that makes you a dangerous man, mister Stonecutter. Especially if you're planning to join several organizations. Knowing the layout of every structure you help build... not something you want to fall into enemy hands. Or even the hands of supposed allies."
A Swarthy Applicant
Ivarr gives a thoughtful nod at the answer to his question. "Of course, I would not seek to poach any members' rights to a contract. It makes perfect reasonable sense." When she meets his gaze, he doesn't turn away despite knowing the power she likely had behind those eyes. He was either brave, stupid, or at the very least trusted her judgment enough not to turn him to stone. He holds the look for a few moments before nodding and going to rummage through his pockets. "Not many recognize that a simple designer or engineer is dangerous. I'm both surprised and pleased by the forethought. But spilling such secrets, even unwittingly, would break my oaths as a Master. I haven't picked up my tools in half a century, but I still take such obligations very seriously. Half because it's simply proper." He seems to find what he's looking for and pulls out a pipe. "Do you mind?" Always ask permission before smoking.
Regardless of whether or not she allows it, he'll continue. "And the other half...well...those like us who will live and have lived for a long time might know it better than many. Life is simply too damned short for such pettiness. Too short, too precious. I've already built my entire life's masterpieces and works. I do not seek to build more apart from simply enjoyment if it ever strikes me again. If you doubt me, I can prove it beyond just my words." He reaches into his pockets again, pulling out a pair of heavily enchanted duck feathers and offers one directly to her to examine. "Homefinders. Unerringly take you to where your heart considers home. I can take you with me and have you back within the hour."
"Well, not only do I have a background as an engineer of sort but if you know anything about adventuring you'd know that one poor sod in the party have to draw up the map of the dungeon they're in. In my group, that poor sod was me." Dena replies, smiling.
However, as he pulls out his pipe she raises her hand. "But these days I'm I afraid that I get paid to mind, mister Stonecutter. Since if we allowed every visitor in that chair to indulge it would leave a smell which not everyone would appreciate." Dena waves her hand dismissively. "I'm sure you understand."
"Oh my." She comments as he offers the duck feathers to her. Having seen more than her fair share of such items to know what they were.
But she does not accept them right away, instead she raises a finger. "Just hold those a moment please." And so she pulls out a drawer to her right and retrieves a pair of gloves and glasses that she puts on before carefully accepting the feathers. "Where I'm from we treat items like this with a certain amount of respect you see." She explains. That they happened to protected against curses and such effects was of course just a bonus.
Then she gives them a through examination through the lenses. "And how long have you been an artificer exactly?" She inquires with a raised eyebrow.
"Of course." The pipe is put away with a respectful nod, and he holds the feathers as asked until Dena is ready to examine them. The enchantments are solid, old, and elven. There's no curse but it is clear that Ivarr didn't make these. "I wouldn't go so far to call myself an actual Artificer as many like to use the term now days, but I've built and designed since I was a Beardling. Nearly four and three quarter centuries at this point. I was one of the original who helped design and build a place named Ironhome. It's still there, thankfully, and has grown to be quite the little trade fort, but I live elsewhere now. Far from my best work, admittedly, but I was only just starting out." He actually sounds a little embarrassed to be admitting it. "They've proper city engineers now though, so surely someone there is handling it well."
There's a fair bit of skepticism there, as if he has strong Opinions on that matter, but he wasn't going to bash people publicly.
Dena pushes up the lenses and looks at Ivarr as she seems to have finished examine the artifact already. "I meant more in the sense that you've made an artifact here. Though I'd use whatever term you'd prefer. I just don't think 'smith' really does it justice, no? At least not in the sense everyone around here uses it. I too have known people like you who create little wonders like these who thought of them as completely mundane. Hence why they didn't see themselves as anything else but smiths. But around here you need to use a bit more precise language. Just to avoid misunderstandings."
Ivarr smiles ruefully and shakes his head. "My wife would have appreciated the praise, but all I did was hold the ducks she plucked some feathers from. I've small talent at Runesmithing, but nothing like this. She was an Oracle and had much more ability to make fine enchantments like this. Though she always liked to chastise me for not using them. I prefer to save things for a rainy day, so to speak. "
"Ah, my apologies. Didn't mean to discredit your wives work. Things just worked a bit differently where I was from." Dena offers back the feathers. "It's a real masterpiece. But you're saying that you never shared her talents in magic then, hm? So I'm going to guess you're more of a fighter. Wouldn't want you to go on any dangerous adventures otherwise."
"I can fight a little. My wife was the adventurer, but she did insist on training me to at least be passable. I'm far better at the academic and scouting." He takes one of the feathers back, but insists that she holds onto the other for now. "In case you decide to take me up on the offer for me to prove my intentions. " He explains.
"I suppose consider me as a nonmagical support. That said, give me my hammer and chisel and I'll be able to break through a stone juggernaut in just a strike or two."
She puts the other feather on the desk and pushes it towards him. "Can't really accept gifts from non-members I'm afraid. Besides, this is a twin-souled item. As in, you and your wife made it together. So I really can't accept it in conscience." Dena shakes her head. "But if you really want to prove yourself, I can always have Violet follow you home and you can show her your craftmanship."
She gestures towards a floating construct, about the size of a football, which comes floating into the room.
Last edited by Shadowcaller on Feb 23, 2023 8:18 pm, edited 1 time in total.
"Of course, sir." Arne nods an affirmation. After a moment, he will reach for the pen and examine the desk top with a stoic expression behind his helmet, before experimentally scratching at the paper with the pen and giving another nod.
Arne will be quick filling out the form, showing surprisingly flowery handwriting. He repeats all the information he just gave Krayger on the form, but includes a few other details he didn't elaborate on when he recited his credentials to Krayger. His weapon skills, while extensive, are mostly focused around the halberd, which he intends to provide. He also notes "smithing and metallurgy" under his skillset, seperate from anything else.
Entryway
Krayger takes the form, skimming over the information Arne wrote down. "So...you've been a soldier since you were 15?" Krayger asks.
This....this might warrant a psyche eval.
...do they do those?
Krayger underlines the psych-eval recommendation several times in his notes. "Well, I can process you for a license if you wish, but if you want membership you'd have to speak to one of the higher-ups first. Which would take some time. I'd take advantage of that time if that's what you want."
Krayger's too polite to say it again but he means it: this kid stinks. If he can't wash at least get some perfume or something.
"Thank you, sir." The massive knight stoops into a shallow bow. "If you will excuse me, I will take my leave until such a time as I may speak with one of them. Sir."
If Krayger permits, and possibly provides direction, Arne will make his way to the showers. It will quickly become apparent once there that they are not equipped for the job; most of his stench is coming from his armor, not himself, and it's not coming off without the application of industrial-strength cleaner or something comparable. The best he can manage is a clumsy application of spray-on deodorant, for now.
Who're you? ...Don't matter.
Want some rye? Course ya do!
Here's to us!
Who's like us?
Damn few,
And they're aaaaall dead.
Once Arne has showered and walks out of the changing room he can hear someone loudly clear their voice behind him. "Excuse me, sir? First I'd like to once again apologize for what happened in the lobby and secondly I had a question for you. Do you know a girl by the name of Siana?"
At "excuse me", the knight whirls on his feet and "draws" his halberd, an ethereal weapon that bathes their immediate vicinity in a glow of blue light.
Arne lowers the weapon as soon as he sees who it was that managed to approach without his knowing, a soft rattling sound escaping from his helmet as he takes a shaky breath. "...I would advise you not to do that again, miss." Arne rumbles, standing up straight and knocking his gauntlet against his chestplate.
At the actual question, Arne's head tilts to the side quizically. "...I do, yes. Or rather, did. It is a common name in my homeland. I had a cousin named Siana Ty-Gryffaf. A fellow squire named Siana of Gildgreen. Two different maids in our house were named Siana, misses Hallower and Greaterwood. And, of course, my fiancé, Siana Ty-Maldwyn of Redmont." The knight pauses, scruntinously watching Jaahlyn for any response. "...Why is it that you ask me this?"
Who're you? ...Don't matter.
Want some rye? Course ya do!
Here's to us!
Who's like us?
Damn few,
And they're aaaaall dead.
"Jaahlyn Hesperos." She corrects as he calls her 'miss', though doesn't get any closer to him considering his warning. It should be noted that she's standing further away than one normally would while conversing.
"The Siana that's in the nexus. A woman in her teens that eats bugs and is capable of swinging around a giant sword. Does that ring any bells?"
"...Not really, no." Arne mutters, running a hand under his chin. "I did not know anyone who made a habit of... eating bugs. Or of wielding an oversized sword." He pauses, a wet click emanating from his helmet as he sucks on his teeth. "I suppose Gildgreen might be capable of such a thing, or perhaps Ty-Gryffaf. They were both capable warriors when I last saw them."
Arne lowers his hand and watches Jaahlyn carefully. "...Do you mean to say that you know one of these women?" He asks, a cautious note of optimism rolling up in his voice. "I... I would very much like to see them. Any of them. If you know where I might find them, please, I must know."
Who're you? ...Don't matter.
Want some rye? Course ya do!
Here's to us!
Who's like us?
Damn few,
And they're aaaaall dead.
"She's a knight too." Jaahlyn vaguely remembered Siana calling herself when she tried to recall more details. "And do you? Since I was going to ask about your relationship to her."
So Siana seemed pretty old-fashioned when it came to relationships and so did this man. Did that mean they had similar marriage aspirations as her own people back in the day? In that case they were probably cousins...
She puts the other feather on the desk and pushes it towards him. "Can't really accept gifts from non-members I'm afraid. Besides, this is a twin-souled item. As in, you and your wife made it together. So I really can't accept it in conscience." Dena shakes her head. "But if you really want to prove yourself, I can always have Violet follow you home and you can show her your craftmanship."
She gestures towards a floating construct, about the size of a football, which comes floating into the room.
A Swarthy Applicant
Ivarr blinks a little, confused for a moment before the pieces all click together and he gets a small smile. "Ah, it seems there was a little miscommunication. The feathers weren't a gift, more of an offer. You were concerned over my possible motives and the feathers were the easiest way for me to show you who I am, as well as bring you back." He explains before nodding polite to Violet. "That said, she, and anyone, is always welcome to my home and I can provide an address. Though it is quite the trek to get there."
"Right... well, either way that's exactly why Violet would come along and not any of our members. Since most of them are too busy or aren't paid to go on such time consuming treks. Back in the old days our members could disappear for weeks completing single assignments. But time, as they say, is money." She gestures to Violet again. "So I feel this is the best solution. But out of curiosity though, just how long is this trek?"
Ivarr nods in understanding. Time was money and a lot more than *just* money at times, and he could appreciate the efficiency Dena seemed to be going for. "What paperwork do I need to fill out? And my home is... complicated. A fortnight on foot. Three days if one knows the proper WayPaths. With me, I can take someone there in a matter of hours. The feathers are simply for convenience. "
The dwarf pauses, thinking for a moment. "If it matters, I'm also a certified accountant and tax professional. '
That last bit makes Dena's eyes widen. There were plenty of fighters coming their way, but an actual accountant? "That does matter actually." She pauses. "When can you start?"
