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Post by Milo Brightmane on Aug 8, 2019 14:23:12 GMT
(Collab. with Mystigon)
"Good day Master Milo!" Mystigon pops in, smiling through his scars.
Milo finishes hammering sharp the point of a large chisel, then turns his attention to the visitor. "Mystigon! I hope you're well. No more scars?" he asks with a grin. "Did you manage to speak to Baine?"
Mystigon chuckles, while giving his scars a scratch. "Yes, it's done. Now we need to sort other stuff," he says with a wince.
"Good good, I'm glad you were able to clear the air. Though I don't like the sound of this 'other stuff'..." Milo says pointedly, waiting for an explanation. But Mystigon just smiles and continues, "Brought you something from K'ul Goran," in a cheery tone.
"Hmm," says Milo. "Alright, you keep your secrets. What have you brought me then, let's see."
The mage rummages through his backpack, removing something small and fragrant wrapped in thin leather. Milo opens it to find a wedge of pungent cheese, but has no time to comment as Mystigon picks from between his back and shield a curved weapon. "This is called a boomerang. If you miss it comes back to you."
"May I?" Milo takes the curved wooden stick, and examines it closely. "It comes back to you? How? Is it magical?"
"I thought so at first - after all, they're full of air magic in that country - but nope. It's something to do about the angle and width I think."
Milo sights along the edge of the boomerang, then across its width. "Fascinating. I suppose it could work..." He hands the weapon back to Mystigon. "I don't really have the skill with wood though. Not really my area. Could try to replicate it in metal, I suppose, but I think it'd be too heavy, even thin or hollow."
"Yeah, I am sorry. Nothing made of metal but the usual designs I saw. Even this...", he turns around in a circle lifting his hands, showing a thin fabric connecting the arms to his sides. "This helps with movement there, but looks like the work of both a leather worker and a tailor." He pushes the hand of Milo back. "Keep it. I got a couple and they don't cost much."
Milo receives the gift with a nod. "I suppose in a place based on air magic too much metal would just weigh you down, that makes sense. Thank you for the gift, I'm sure I can make some use of it, some kind of variation perhaps. Fascinating thing."
"Yup, it is really more of an amusing thing to me though, but you never know when the need arises."
"Ha! True. And thank you for the cheese as well, I know just what to do with it. Well, where to next for you my friend? You don't seem to stop!"
With a small laught Mystigon says "Got some work to do, and information to gather. Then I don't know. Where the money is, or find something new to learn maybe."
Milo gestures with the boomerang. "Well there's always something new to learn, if you look in the right place. Before you go though, speaking of information, you do get about, perhaps I can rack your brains - do you know anything about these, um, Galavir elves that live away in the Spine?"
Mystigon cocks his head as if thinking. "Head something about them being there but nothing more. And heard about gnolls and werewolves living that way too." After a moment, "Maybe Pieni knows something. I will ask them when I see them."
"Ah well, never mind. I've had enough of werewolves so I'll definitely keep an eye out for those, thank you. Only I'm heading out that way in a few days and thought I'd see what I can find out. I suppose it'll have to be a surprise!"
"Do you know if they speak Sylvan, by any chance? I might be able to give you some words to use there."
"I have absolutely no idea!" The note up in the Ettin was the first I'd heard of them. I suppose a few words couldn't hurt though, just in case."
Mystigon reels off a phrase "'Êl síla erin lû e-govaned vîn'. It means 'The stars shine on the time of our meeting'."
"'Ell silla errin loo ee govand vin'," Milo attempts. "Very pretty, I'll definitely use that one." He smiles wide at Mystigon. "You've brought me many thing today, thank you."
"Mystigon gives a slight bow. "And you helped save my life a few weeks ago, so I'm the one who should thank you. Now I don't want to keep you off your work much longer, and I need to be back at Port Ffirst in the next few hours. But before I go, my last gift. Now you must be really careful when drinking it," he says, taking out a bottle of orange spirit. "This is Orange Hiroloki from Za'sul. Tasty and has a good kick to it. I would say with no disrespect meant that it might even challenge some Dwarven spirits."
"Ha, we'll see about that. I'll get the boys round to try it out. Looks interesting either way."
Mystigon turns around a moment and his hand ponts to outside of the door. Lightning courses around him, spiking his hair a bit, and travels out to take the shape of a green and blue steed, before he looks back and gives a handshake with his ferny hand. "See you around my friend, and be careful in the mountains."
"Safe travels."
After Mystigon has left, Milo looks again at the curved wood in his hand, let's out a brief, amused noise, and starts to ponder the blacksmith's approach...
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Post by Milo Brightmane on Sept 6, 2019 12:46:52 GMT
(In collaboration with Mystigon )
A knock on the door frame is heard, and in Dwarven a lilting voice saying “Greetings Master Milo!” Mystigon enters the smithy, his long, scruffy purple hair unable to hide the bruises layering his arms, neck and face.
Milo starts at the sight. “Gods, you’ve been in the wars! Here, let me help. We can’t have you wandering around in that state.” He approaches Mystigon, one open palm glowing softly, but the mage waves him down.
“Thank you, but that is something I can do myself.” His hands too glow, but green, followed by some of the worse bruises which then fade away. “I am fine, just that I got quite a few whacks from hill giants, and keeping this to help myself get stronger.”
Milo raises one eyebrow quizzically. “Fair, fair. Steel takes a lot of beating before it’s a blade. Hill giants though? They’re best dealt with from the other side of the valley, but you look like one sat on you. What on Toril were you doing that close to a bloody tornoror?”
Mystigon smiles through his bruised face. “Well I climbed up one’s back and tried attacking it. But keeping hold on a giant’s shoulder and fighting with one hand, I can tell you it isn’t easy, especially when it decides to fall on you when it can’t reach you! And I can tell you that they smell just as bad on the inside as the outside.”
Milo wrinkles his nose at the thought. “The less said about their smell the better, I think. Was this in the Sunset Spine? Giants trampling through the fields and causing havoc is the last thing we need.”
“No, actually that was near K’ul Goran. Met some sort of Special Operations soldiers or adventurers from there.” Mystigon looks like he’s trying to remember something, then says “Ah, but still dangerous, apparently they are under control by some stone giants and building a sort of hall in the hills there.”
The dwarf’s brow furrows. “Well that’s not right. No, that doesn’t sit right at all, but what’s wrong with it I just can’t...” Milo clutches a hand in the air fruitlessly before letting out a sigh of frustration. "I don’t know. I’ll ask around, figure it out.”
Mystigon smiles. “Oh well, next time I am in Daring Heights I will pop in and I would love to hear what you find out.”
“Yes of course. Anyway, I doubt you came in just for a chat. Anything I can help you with?”
“Yes, as much as I love our chats it isn’t the main reason I came in today.” The mage raises his good hand, and suddenly shadows pull from the dark corners of the room, taking the shape of a sword in his grasp, pulsing darkly. “You see I want to stop using this power. I feels somewhat wrong, as much as it is useful.”
Milo folds his arms and nods. “Understandable. You won’t find much good in shadow magic. I know something about the arcane but I’m hardly an expert, so if you’re asking me to remove the power that’s beyond me I’m afraid.”
The sword is released from Mystigons grasp and falls to the floor before dispersing back to the natural shadows of the room. Mystigon laughs for a moment before saying “Oh no my friend, it’s more that I would like you to forge me a new weapon.”
The dwarf’s eyes brighten. “Ah! Well, that I can do. Something like the shadow sword you just made, or would you prefer something different, a clean break?”
Mystigon looks thoughtful they says “A clean break sounds really nice.”
“I thought it might. Have you had any thoughts? I could say ‘just leave it with me’ but I wouldn’t want to make you something you aren’t comfortable handling.”
“I trust you and your expertise, just not something that I would need lots of physical strength to wield,” Mystigon says excitedly.
“Hmm, yes,” the dwarf ponders. “It would have to be something that would allow you to dart in and out, avoid taking hits. You’ve been doing that enough lately. Of course the best way to avoid hits is to not get close at all! Although you don’t seem the type to stand at the side taking potshots.”
“I can do both, but what kind of physical experience would I get by just staying far away and throwing magic at my opponents.” Wispy tendrils of green lightning spark around Mystigon briefly. “My aim now is to become both physically and magically stronger to contend with others like Baine, Markas, Pieni and yourself.”
Milo lets out a brief bark of a laugh, and puts his hands on his hips. “I don’t think any of us are likely to become and physically strong as Baine. And you already surpass me in magical ability I’m sure. But self-improvement is always a fine goal, in whatever respect. Alright, I’ll see what I can do. I doubt it’ll be as powerful as a magic shadow blade, but at least it won’t disappear if you drop it.”
Mystigon smiles. “Definitely none of us can reach Baine’s strength. But don’t sell yourself short, I was told about how you had to a face to face combat with the Infernal knight who came for me.” Milo scratches his beard, and blushes a little, but stays silent. Mystigon presses on, “How much would I owe you for the weapon?”
Milo pulls at his chin hairs. “Thirty gold? Lightweight with the same stopping power means doubly strong, and that takes more time and effort.”
Mystigon nods. “Sounds good. Here you go,” he says, reaching for a pouch. Milo holds up his hand. “You should know by now I make a point of only taking payment once I know the customer is happy with the product. So come back in three days, see what you think. I should ask, how are you finding the shield?”
The mage stretches his left hand behind him, picking the shield from its attachments on his back. “Very comfortable with the fleece lining, and it fits just perfectly around my arm. A great job as always.”
The smith smiles at the compliment. “Wonderful. I’m just glad to see I haven’t completely lost my skill in leather working, though I think I’ll leave anything more complicated to the professionals. So, where next for you my friend? Back across the bay, or are you staying on Toril Firma for now?”
A smile from the mage. “Yes, yes I think I am for now. I promised BB to come to New Hillborrow and exchange some knowledge on spells. Then you never know where I am going next.” With a shrug Mystigon reattaches the shield to his back and extends his ferny hand in an offer of a handshake. “I bid you farewell for the time being. And seeing you in three days.”
The dwarf carefully shakes the leafy hand saying “Indeed, who knows. Three days it is. So long!”
Mystigon nods and leaves, leaping atop the familiar lightning horse outside, and setting off.
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Post by Sunday on Sept 18, 2019 16:22:28 GMT
For the second time in a tenday, Sunday enters Hammerfall Smithy. She is in less of a rush today, but is as focused on business as she was before. "Milo - do you have a minute. I need another favour. A bigger, more expensive request - and I can't pay you for it. Not in coin." The redheaded smith pauses in the polishing he was doing, the cloth hanging loose from his hand. "Miss Sunday, welcome. Well, I would certainly like to say yes, but I suppose it would depend on how big, and how expensive. I'm only one dwarf!" He raises his hands in a shrug, though the effect is lessened by the short blade and cloth still held in them. "I need powdered silver. Do you have any? About 2,500gp-worth will do. For now." Milo laughs good-naturedly, but as the tiefling's face remains serious he blows out his cheeks and puts down the blade and cloth. "2500? That's a lot of silver. Honestly I don't get that much call for silvered weapons, so I don't keep much around. I could perhaps scrape up 300 worth?"
Sunday nods seriously. "There're a lot of fiends coming this way. So a lot of silver is what I need. I'll take anything you have. If we're all still alive after this, I'll owe you." A frown breaks onto the dwarf's face. "Now Miss Sunday. That's some big news to drop on a fellow. 'A lot of fiends'? I don't doubt you mean what you say, but why would fiends come here? Goodness knows this place has its planar run-ins, but there's been none with the Hells that I... Wait, there was that attack at the orphanage, with the hounds. Does it have to do with that?" “Kantas doesn’t really do small news, Milo. We’re an ‘all or nothing’ kinda place. And just Sunday is fine.” Sunday shifts her stance and looks away from the dwarf, clearly weighing up what to say next, before meeting his gaze again. “Yes, it does have to do with the attack on the orphanage. There’s been a general increase in the number of fiends breaking through into this plane - we don’t know ultimately why this is happening. But we do know that confronting them tends to draw their ire and their focus. But wholesale wanton destruction is a fiend’s usual approach, so as many people who know about this situation the better. People have the right to know what threatens them. I need the silver to make weapons so everyone can have a chance of defending themselves if they want. Not weapons like you make here; but something anyone can use.” "I see." Milo pulls at the tip of his beard. "Alright then. Alright... Well as I said, I only have so much, but I dare say if you went around some of the others you could pool that much together. Samed, obviously. Probably Ben at the OCF compound has some stock. I don't know where Rama has gotten to lately but he has a thing about silvering weapons, could be worth tracking down. And to fill in any gaps..." He pauses, as Sunday did, considering how much to say. "I could produce about 300 gold worth of silver a day, if need be, if I have that amount of metal to hand. So see what we've got first. Then bring me metal, any metal, and I'll see what I can do. Does that sound fair?" Sunday nods. “I’ve taken this same request to Samed - and the Crimson Fist. And will continue to do so to anyone else I think can help.” Sunday looks around the smith’s workshop. “I’ve come to you because of your work - but also because of the hub your business has become in the short time you’ve been in Daring. This has always been a town where people are wary of each other, where too late people ask for help. But you are a figure people trust, it seems. Can you make the people who come through your shop aware of what we have talked about today? You have links with Port First, yes? Can you warn people there whom you trust so they are aware of what is occurring? These two towns have grown so much so quickly and not always in the same direction.”
"I know a few people," Milo acknowledges, nodding. "I'll let them know." Sunday breaks into a broad smile. “Brilliant! So. I’ll bring you more silver: you turn it into powder. And you’ll start with whatever you have lying around?” "Starting with actual silver would save time, absolutely. But bring whatever metal you can, even scrap." Milo pats the anvil affectionately. "I know a trick or two. Or Moradin does, at least..."
(Trialing this as a way of spreading info between different groups of adventures and places. Maybe we want to follow the DMG rumour spreading rules? But modified to shorten the time it takes - given this is active communication?)
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Post by Heret Velnnarul on Nov 4, 2019 12:08:34 GMT
20 Marpenoth, 1496 DR.
Heret gestures at the dented and buckled armour plates spread out between him and the proprietor. 'Of course, friend Milo, I would much prefer to give this piece of business to your fine establishment. But this is Company property, and the Company must keep its costs down; you understand, I'm sure. I should be very much obliged if you could let me know how long it would take you to hammer these scraps into a suit of half-plate armour, and how much you would charge. I dare say that such work is no challenge for you and perhaps even a little boring, but it would give me great satisfaction to tell my business partner that you can do the work more efficiently than your competitors.'
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Post by Milo Brightmane on Nov 4, 2019 16:07:10 GMT
"Business is business, I understand. Well, let me take a look here... hmmm. The actual cuirass isn't too badly damaged, that just needs a little reshaping. The vambraces are basically worthless though, they're smashed all to Hell. Someone took some hard knocks to their arms... There's some reasonable tassets here though, I could use those, open up these cuisses, make a decent set of pauldrons out of them. Considering all the existing material I'd hardly be working from scratch. Call it 300 gold? It'll take about 6 weeks." Milo shrugs a little. "The downside of being such a small business. No one to tell me how to run things, but I have to do everything myself, and the time does add up. If you want it done quicker I'd understand if you took it elsewhere."
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Post by Heret Velnnarul on Nov 7, 2019 12:02:22 GMT
Heret thanks Milo and says he'll confer with his partner and let Milo know soon. A couple of days later he returns and says that another smith has made a substantially lower offer that the Company has felt unable to ignore, even though Heret imagines the finished product will probably not have quite the style and elegance of what Milo would produce. He thanks him for his understanding and says that he hopes in due course the Company, or he personally, will have some work for Milo more worthy of his artistry.
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Post by Milo Brightmane on Nov 7, 2019 15:15:28 GMT
Milo says that he understands, the bigger businesses can process more commissions faster and so don't have to charge as much per item. He does explain that he should be getting an apprentice soon, to cover the more mundane parts of the business when Milo has special commissions, and that he hopes Heret will consider the Hammerfall if he would like any personal items that don't depend on the company purse.
He also notes that he heard about the OMTC taking management of the Stoneleaf quarry, "I was part of the first group to discover the undead there, you know?", and asks about plans to get the place working again.
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Post by Heret Velnnarul on Nov 7, 2019 17:47:55 GMT
'Yes! That quarry has been out of use for too long, but we shall put that right. And you may be able to help, especially if you've experience with the place and its current - hm - occupants. We shall need to make the place safe before it can be worked again.'
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Post by Markas Virnala on Jan 12, 2020 14:49:39 GMT
It's been too long since he has come to visit. Opening the door and feeling the heat wave over him brings back fond memories of his first visit here. "Milo!"
The dwarf is stood by the forge fire, not working but looking down at the palm of his left hand. On hearing his name he quickly wraps his hand in a length of cloth while turning to the visitor.
"Ah, Markas! It's good to see you. How have you been?" His right hand is similarly wrapped in cloth, and he looks tired.
"Im good but.... is everything ok? you didn't burn yourself did you?"
"Oh, one of the hazards of the job I'm afraid." Milo clasps his hands behind his back, a natural stance but noticeably putting them out of sight. "Anyway, enough about me, what's been happening with you? I hope you didn't find yourself too deep in the mess in K'ul Goran the other week. I was at Zot Goran but mostly behind the scenes I'm afraid."
"It was... pretty eventful. I was with the team that was supposed to be outside Zot Goran, defending the walls but we ended up following a lead to free the Ruler of the Giants. It really was a bit of a mess over there.... but I'm glad you're safe!" he flashes his usual grin at the dwarf "I''ve actually been meaning to swing by for a while but with the war going on, just got carried away with things I guess."
"Well, my word, it sounds like you're to thank for ending the whole sorry situation! So no need to worry about not popping in. Are you here for a chat, or is there something I can do for you? I'm happy with either!" the dwarf says smiling.
"Well... there was a few of us" he says somewhat sheepishly "But erm.... of course I'm always happy to chat, but I also had a couple of requests." "The first was actually I'm hoping an easy one. I wanted some iron and copper shavings and thought it might be something you would have? I'll pay for it, of course"
Milo lets out a short laugh. "I expect the floor is covered in filings, in with the coal dust. So unless you have a lodestone, that's lost to us." He holds his hands up at the sight of Markas' crestfallen face. "It's easy enough to make more. How much iron and how much copper?"
He picks up again, "oh it wouldn't be much really. Enough of each to to fit into something like this" he produces a tiny pouch, roughly about the size of an egg. "It just needs to be quite fine or... well it could messy"
"An interesting request..." Milo says, giving Markas a wry look. "But yes, easily done. What was the other request?"
"Well, the other request was actually for Hoop... I carry them around all the time and I guess I'm getting worried about them breaking... if they even can?" He takes out Hoop who's happy to see Milo as ever "So, I was hoping you could mould a kind of protective.... case maybe? Something they can be safe in that I can still carry on my back.... what do you think?"
Milo pulls at his beard. "Well, magical items are notoriously hard to damage, but it can't hurt to add some protection. Pop them down here and I'll take some measurements."
Using a length of tape and a large pair of compasses, Milo takes some detailed notes about Hoop's diameter and thickness.
"I dare say I can have that done in a day, and make the filings as a by-product. Call it 10 gold? How does that sound?"
Now Markas gives Milo a wry look, "how about 10 gold, and a drink?"
A nod and a smile from Milo. "Done." He extends a bandaged hand before realising his mistake and withdrawing it self-consciously. "Um. So. The Ettin tomorrow evening? And Hoop can take their new carry case for a test ride."
"Done", nodding in return, "I'll see you then!"
The next night, Markas is already in the Ettin when Milo arrives, a drink waiting for him.
The dwarf stomps over, heavy boots loud in the strangely quiet tavern. "Gods it's sombre in here tonight. It would be noisier at a funeral!" he says with a laugh, which fades away as he notices the look on Markas' face.
"Ummm..... I guess it kind of is?" He gives Milo an awkward smile, only realising now he didnt actually say what the filings were for. He waves Milo over to the chair anyway as he explains "Erm... well, One of the groups that went out came back two short... Stedd and Gegrun both died... not sure if you met them or not... but news finally seems to have got around. That's, uh, actually what the filings were for. I was going to hold my own 'send off' for them.... guess I could've mentioned that before. Sorry"
Milo's face falls as the news sinks in. "Oh, how terrible! I'm afraid I never met Gegrun, but Stedd was a nice chap. And so young, basically a child. Dear dear..."
He sits down with a sigh. "You think this place is all rolling hills and green forests, and you forget how dangerous it can be. Well, I hope they find peace wherever they are."
After a few seconds of silence, he jumps "Oh! I almost forgot why I came. Here." He swings a bag onto the table and removes what looks like a circular metal pack. "Made to Hoop's specifications. Padded on the inside, steel outside, with some hardened glass panels, so they can see out. Should buckle onto your pack, or lengthen the straps to carry it by itself. Shall we give it a whirl?"
Markas nods solemnly and shares a drink with Milo as the remember the fallen but does get visibly brighter at his news "Wow! I hadn't even thought of trying that!"
He rummages through his pack, retrieving Hoop out, "Check it out Hoop, Milo finished!" "Hey it has a window on! Finally! It gets real boring looking at the inside of your pack you know!" Markas slots Hoop in and holds it up, "how is it?" (Sounding a little echoey inside) "How will people see me like this!?" "Well, it's more for when we are working to keep you safe" "Oh... well that's ok then! You know Milo, he usually likes to put things inside me, not often he puts me inside anything!" Hoop winks at Milo. Markas looks uncomfortable
"Umm.... it's great Milo! Thank you, I'll worry less about Hoop with this"
"Aha, well, I'm glad. And I've included this copper detailing so..." reaching inside the bag and removing two small pouches, "here we go. Iron, copper. I hope your send off for Stedd and Gegrun goes well."
"Thank you. Me too..." he takes another drink a pulls a face as he does,"its a real shame that we're in the position to do this though....Maybe one day we wont have to worry about our friends not coming back.... but then we wouldnt be doing this then would we?"
"Mmm," Milo agrees into his pint. "Everyone who came out here, adventurer or not, came seeking change, something new, and there's always a risk with change. I suppose what's important is how you face that risk when it becomes real. I hope that if it happens to me I face it well."
"I dont doubt you would Milo... Still, heres to hoping we dont have to find out" Markas raises his drink a little in toast before taking another sip, "At any rate, I owe you some Gold! You never did say how much you wanted for the filings?"
Milo waves a hand. "Take them. I couldn't charge for what's essentially a waste product, especially given what you want them for. Just 10 gold for the Hoop Holder." He returns Markas' toast with a grin. "And this drink."
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