RP:An Ingenious Collaboration

Part of the Surface Tension Arc

Synopsis: Having met Krice back in Gualon (prior to the beginning of this log), Skylei has travelled up to Frostmaw with him in search of the Gualonian Blacksmith, Leone. Interrupting a conversation between the smith, Hildegarde, Frostmaw's Steward and Faolan, Skylei engages Leone in a discussion about a collaborative project to build a special, and somewhat complex, kind of trap, although she's less than honest about exactly what it is that she's planning to trap...

Journey to Frostmaw

Krice was aware of Skylei's interest, but his mind was so set in his own thoughts on the matter that he didn't really think anything specific of her reaction. At length, he shook his head, casting a brief look her way. " Nothing. I don't really know enough about the different races of elves to really say anything one way or the other." Gesturing northwest, he said, " Let's get to Frostmaw. The sooner you arrive, the sooner you can leave."

Skylei agrees with Krice about the importance of getting to their destination, and the matter of her race is left behind. As they reach the point where the temperature changes from moderate to mild, Skylei would pause, pull her fancy white fur-lined trenchcoat out of her bag and pull it around herself. She looks like a ball of fuzz, but at least he’s cosy and warm. This is coupled with the brand new gloves she’s purchased in Gualon. She’s a sight for sore eyes. From this moment onwards, if the two are not actively conversing Skylei is murmuring under her breath; all kinds of obscenities and curses are lain down on their destination. She hadn’t been joking when she stated she hated Frostmaw.

Krice halted at the Northern Highlands and waited patiently whilst Skylei dressed. He, on the other hand, remained in his lighter clothing, with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, and his collar open. It would seem that he was an anomaly in this, as well; he didn't seem to be cold at all. Once Skylei was ready to go, the man offered her a nod and a small smile before moving northward, leading her through the wilderness and up the mountains on ice and rock that was stable, secure. Just in case she was unable to deduce as much, herself--technically, he was following a path that he wanted to follow for his own sake, and she was free to match him step-for-step or not. The woman's continued rantings about her disdain for Frostmaw inspired a smirk to Krice's lips but he did not question her about it. He knew of her hatred of the Frozen Warlands. Nothing more needed to be said. A beat. " Almost there."

Skylei chooses not to comment on the fact that Krice doesn’t need to add layers of clothing to withstand the cold. She just adds another mark to the list of anomalies that are attributed to this strange man. She would choose her own path, but damn it, Krice makes most of the most sensible moves so she finds herself following after him a lot of the time. As he lets her know that they are nearly there, Skylei would nod. “Thank goodness for that. I could use a drink, y’know.” It’s a mixture of wanting to dull her senses to the wasteland they’re about to enter and the fact that they have been walking for quite some time and she’s close to parched.

Krice gestured northward to where the tavern stood, barely visible through the icy murk of Frostmaw's winter breath. " It just so happens, my lady, that our destination serves all kinds of beverages - one of which you may use to quench your thirst."

Skylei pulls the coat tighter around her form as they reach the tavern. In spite of the fact that she is about to go inside, Skylei is still trying to fight against the cold. Plus, her feet are already wet. “Thank the gods for that.” At least in the tavern Skylei can pretend that she’s not in the icebound city of misery and death.

Frostmaw Tavern

Krice pulled open the tavern door with a casual smirk gifted Skylei, sympathetic more than amused. He held aloft the barrier for the woman to enter, and after a brief nod to the warmer room, he said, " I'll leave you to it." The man, dressed in no winter-wear whatsoever, would watch Skylei enter and make sure that she was venturing into a crowd of non-elf killers before he'd depart once more. If Leone was visible, the warrior's eyes would lock onto hers and he'd send her a respectful bow of the head. If not, he'd be out on his way without such interaction.

Leone nods to Hilde's description of the wolf, her head vehemently swung up and down as the Steward kept talking. "He tried. I think I came in at the end of him attempting to save the man's life. The wolf seemed intelligent, almost defiant, toward Krice. I wandered through, and it was ready to turn on me. He stayed, to make sure the wolf didn't attack again," the farrier says with a frown. "Yes, white wolf, red eyes," the blacksmith affirms, as if nearly shaking her own brain out weren't confirmation enough. As if by fate, the swordsman appears towards the end of the smith's tirade, and she returns his gesture in kind.

Skylei would enter the tavern and, even at the warmth from the firepit, pulls that fancy white fur-lined coat back around her tightly. She’d scan the room noting a number of the patrons before her eyes fall on Hilde. Oh crap. That dragon is not the person Skylei wants to see, but unfortunately she’s in conversation with the person that Skylei does want to see. What a conundrum! Skylei would cast a pointed look in Krice’s direction before realising that he knows nothing about Skylei’s grievances with Hildegarde. Oh, and if to add insult to injury, that coat that Skylei is wrapping so tightly around herself? That was a gift from the knight. So many levels of awkward. Instead of going to make conversation, Skylei goes to the bar – booze is the best option here. You also balks a she overhears Leone's description of a wolf. She definitely needs booze after that.

Krice happened to linger a little longer due to what he overheard of Leone's conversation with Hildegarde. Consequently, those gold-freckled eyes shifted over to the face of the newly-appointed Steward. Skylei's pointed look drew his gaze if only because of the angle in which her face was... you know, facing. The expression he gave her was politely quizzical, and he watched her depart for the bar before his gaze returned to Leone and Hildegarde. If the women were fine talking amongst themselves, he'd be on his way.

Faolan listened to the women speak, paying close attention to the description of the wolf and the account of events. It did not sound like any wolf he was familiar with, but he could never be too sure. He continued to enjoy his stew in silence as two more patrons arrived. He offered a polite nod in greeting to both, but kept his silence for the time being.

Hildegarde offered a sigh once Leone finished speaking, “I have encountered this wolf before,” she admitted, “and it is an intelligent creature. One that has power over the mind,” she warned, “so I suggestion extreme caution if you approach. But if she has her scent, there is a chance she may come for you, I cannot be certain, of course.” The knight frowned, as if in contemplation of what to do, “You implied you intended to kill this wolf… Is that the case?” As the door opens, the knight briefly glances towards it and spots Krice and Skylei: one she had only met briefly by the sea, a long time ago now, and one she thought of as a friend. A friend she had hurt. A friend she missed and wished to speak to again but was afraid of chasing her away. A part of her yearns to go over to Skylei, yet she cannot bring herself to do it for she is afraid her very presence will upset or scare the scholar.

Skylei keeps her ears on the conversation behind her even whilst her eyes are kept trained in another direction with brief glances of untranslated unhappiness in Krice’s direction. Skylei reaches out with her mind for the wolf that was the topic of conversation, especially when it turns to that wolf’s death. With the two being secretly bound by mind and by ‘pack’, Skylei needs to ascertain that Senka is nowhere near by save she be discovered to fraternise with crazy albino lycans. That would not be good for her image. Oh, and also to make sure that Senka is safe – pack law and all that. Fortunately for all, Skylei’s mind finds nothing – it’s like radio static. This is enough to let her know that Senka is not in the close vicinity and she breathes a strange, visible sigh of relief as Drargon comes to take her drink order. She orders ale. She drinks at the bar.

Krice arched a brow at Hilde's revelation of Leone's intentions, but unfortunately, he was already on his way out. Not one for repeatedly entering the same building within a two-minute span of time, he continued on his way into Frostmaw's wild wintry haze. Perhaps he would seek out both Skylei and Leone later.

Faolan continued to listen to the conversation, intrigued by the woman's encounter with the wolf she spoke of. He didn't seem to be bothered one way or the other, even when the killing of said wolf was mentioned. As far as he was concerned, such was the way of life. It was all a cycle, in which predators preyed on the weaker, until they became prey to something or someone stronger. There was no good or bad in it, just the way things are. These thoughts clouded his mind as he drank some ale and continued to feast on his stew.

Leone extends a hand toward Skylei in greeting; she recognized the woman still from Tristram's unusual request. The two had work to do together, but never the time to do so. Another shake of the raven and metallic crown is given to Hilde's words, the smith inhaling sharply to rebutt, "I intend to go to the authorities. I just," the farrier pauses, looking over to Krice before she'd continue, "I simply wanted to make sure that she wasn't a keeper of Frostmaw, and the man some sort of criminal. I'd hate to bring conflict between Frostmaw and Kelay because of my fear. I grew up with wolves near our camp. It wasn't unusual for them to carry off humans when they were starving, in the bleakest winters. We always took pains to eliminate them," the metallurgist finishes in a diminished voice.

Hildegarde gave a nod of understanding, “I am not keen on killing something has evident sentience and human thinking,” she admitted quietly, “but I would warn you about it. Defend yourself, Leone, this wolf is a dangerous sort.” That much she knew, considering she and the wolf had nearly fought to the death. A battle of brawn, a battle of minds, it was a horrendous fight. “The wolves of Frostmaw stick to the west, m’lady, it is unlikely they would so dare to venture as far as Kelay.” The knight frowned, evidently thinking of anything else she can add. “I can only advise caution and relieve you with the knowledge that it is not a citizen of Frostmaw.”

Skylei needs to learn to hold her tongue but… Spinning on her heel Skylei addresses the party discussing the death of her ‘friend’, “The albino. She’s an alpha, part of the old Vailkrin pack and an old and deadly one at that. My advice? Stay well away, I barely got away alive last time I tangled with her, and although that was years ago, I bet she hasn’t mellowed any.” Skylei hopes that the tone of bitterness (a tone she’s well practised in) disguises any care of, gods forbid… love that she has for the psychopath. “I mean it, stay clear. She’s lethal.” Skylei doesn’t address the person she’s actually here to see nor the one she’d rather die than talk to directly. Her words are simply placed into the general fray of discussion. Faolan offered a quick wave to the dwarf, who he recognized from his travels in the mountain range in Xalious. As he heard Hildegarde introduce herself to him, he finally learned what her true station was, something he would keep in mind. He took another sip from his ale, finishing up the rest of his stew as the elven woman uttered a warning to no one in particular about the wolf in question.

Leone gives a bemused smile to Hildegarde, her head tilting to one side as she looked upon the Silver Knight. "I don't know how to fight, Hildegarde. It was forbidden for women to," the petite femme with pale viridian eyes says. The startling gaze is shifted toward Skylei and her blessed information, a nod of appreciation given, "Thank you. As I said, I've no intentions of going anywhere near her again, I only wish to report it to the authorities and let them deal with it. I am not the righteous kind," the farrier states with a sheepish grin.

Skylei is grateful that no one sees fit to question her on her knowledge about Senka. She’d have lied anyway. She even had a lie in mind. But, as Hildegarde goes to discuss business, Skylei makes a move on her own business. Approaching Leone, Skylei would speak in quiet tones, “I actually travelled up here to speak with you. Krice told me that you were headed in this direction and I’m in need of your services – the ones of the ‘smithing variety – though I do have your beautiful glasswork on my mantelpiece. Are you free to discuss business? I wouldn’t want to interrupt you if you’re busy” Skylei smiles and would wait to see what Leone says. Faolan is disregarded in typical Skylei fashion. He, Skylei thinks, has nothing she needs and thus, for now, is of no use her.

Hildegarde glanced over to Skylei and then to Leone, “Skylei is right. That wolf is dangerous. Avoid her if you can, this is what I too would recommend. But I thank you, Leone, for rushing here to inform me of what you saw. I can arrange Eyrie transport for you back to Gualon whenever you wish,” she informed the farrier politely.

Skylei can hear her own stomach rumbling as Leone suggests dinner. “An excellent idea, I didn’t realise quite how hungry I was until now.” Skylei would take a seat at the suggested table and even sheds the coat that she had clung to when she had first entered the tavern. She’d peruse the menu, knowing that whatever she ordered would likely be Frostmaw’s mystery meat in some kind of gruel-like substance. With a sigh, she would wait until Leone had decided what she wanted and then would go to the bar and order two of whatever the woman says. Once she returns to the table, she would turn to the matter of business, “Firstly, I’ve had no word from Tristram as to whatever it is that he wants making. So I’m waiting until he contacts me to pursue that. However, I was hoping you’d be able to assist me with some of my own personal needs.” Skylei pauses to wait for Leone to catch up before continuing, “Before I took to books, I was a ranger and I spent a lot of my time hunting. Safe to say, some of my tools have rusted and I’m in need of some new. But, I like to use the best and well.” Skylei grins, “I’ve heard nothing but good things about your work.”

Leone looses a laugh at Skylei's flattery, a deep bow of her head given in reverent thanks for the praise. "I favor tools, myself. What sort were you looking for? Do you have metal you wish to be used in this endeavor, or would you like metal supplies to be included in the cost? Of course, it's far less expensive when you provide the material yourself," the farrier says with a wink. Hildegarde's conversation catches the smith's ear, and she leans back in her chair, intruding upon the political banter with a quick, and unpleasant, twinge of memory. "Ah. Remember the dwarf that propositioned you? You certainly have heard of the Vorz, then." Wasting no further time, the metallurgist summons the innkeeper, a finger poised in the air before she'd inquire toward Skylei, "Er, do you eat meat? Rabbit stew, perhaps?"

Skylei turns her attention to the most important matter first. Does she eat meat, pfft. Has she not just told Leone she was a hunter? “Rabbit stew sounds divine.” It sounds watery and tough, but food is food and Sky’s stomach demands to be placated. Once they’ve ordered, Skylei turns to the second matter, “There are a couple of things that I’m thinking of. Obviously, you have much more expertise and, I’m willing to accept that you’re correct whatever you say. As for the metals, I feel perhaps you should be the judge of that too. The first is a necessity. Generally, I hunt deer and like sized beasts and so I’m in need of a cleaver of sorts so that I can move the meat. It has to be sharp enough to cut through bone, preferably with some ease. I assume something like that would be fairly straightforward?” Skylei doesn’t leave Leone time to respond, and instead ploughs onwards “The second is more of an idea than a necessity and may need some discussion. It would likely be a collaboration of sorts.” Skylei grins at this concept. The scholar loves combing her mind with the skill of others and coming up with ingenious solutions to problems.

Leone finishes placing her order with the barman, and turns her attention fully to Skylei. A nod is given , and the smith would take the liberty to correct the woman after the inventive project was mentioned, and the moment of relish for the scholar had passed. "I would suggested a hunting knife, serrated blade, with a back hook at the tip: for fish and particularly pesky ligaments. The blade can be half straight edge, half serrated as well. It will offer the option of sawing or cleaving through meat and bone alike, though the serrations will be needed for larger bones such as hips and shoulders," the smith intones flatly, her experience taking over for her mouth. "I can be extremely inventive, as long as the rules of smithing aren't broken. That is to say: there are certain tried and true methods that stand because anything less means faulty weapons or poor quality work, but I am eager to hear your idea," the farrier clarifies with a cheshire grin of her own.

Skylei would nod as Leone speaks, a grin spreading across her face as she details exactly what the knife would be like. Once she finishes, Skylei slaps her hand off of the table with a cry of - “Excellent! I knew there was a reason I travelled to find you rather than frequenting some other blacksmith.” Now to the second thought. “This is likely one of the stranger requests you will receive. Are you familiar with traditional hunting traps?” She would wait for a yay or nay before continuing, “Now, I have always hated them because of the way in which they cause suffering. My people are bonded with the earth and, hunter though I am, I still feel the pain of the beast.” Skylei bites her lip, “So, my proposition is thus. A trap, somewhat traditional in the way it is motion triggered and designed and so, metal and crafted. But, instead of jaws, or anything of the kind, it would administer a quick acting, close range poison, I expect of the gaseous variety, though I’m still in discussions with potion makers over the specifics.” Skylei grins, this is the clever part. “My plan, once that is complete is to potentially find some form of enchantment so that the trap itself, whilst triggered by movement as all good traps are, is also connected to the blood of the creature I was attempting to trap, so that, say if you or I triggered such a movements, the administration of the poison would not occur.” Sound complicated? It kind of is. Welcome to Skylei’s brain. It’s weird, wonderful and frankly, occasionally terrifying, “I don’t even know if it is possible. But I would love to try and, of course, I will pay you more than handsomely if you would be willing to assist in these attempts.”

Leone drums her fingers against her cheek in thought, though an absent nod is given as an affirmative that she did, indeed, know what a traditional bear trap was. "The corpse flower," the blacksmith states, referring to the indigenous plantlife of the under ground areas. "They have feelers out, little hairs that, once triggered, causes them to release a gaseous poison. It is very fast-acting, so where the hapless prey dies is often near enough to the flower to dissolve and subsequently digest it," the farrier says rapid, her hand flourished in the air as if annoyed with herself. "Ghroundium is very strong, extremely durable, and is by nature wound into thin strands. A ring of Ghroundium could be set against the ground around a central pod. The wire can either be enchanted to send out spurs, or set with spurs to gently prick whomever enters within its area and, if they are referenced via rune-index implanted into the pod to be a sapient being, then the poison is not administered. If it is purely an animal, the pod releases a cloud of poison that paralyzes the animal, or outright kills it," the blacksmith says, her eyes pressed against the ceiling while she speculates and speaks.

As Leone references the corpse flower, Skylei gets very excited. Whilst it is not something she had thought of, she is quite aware of its existence (of course she is, it’s a weird and wonderful oddity) and, as Leone goes on to express how exactly this would play out in the scenario they are discussing, the grin on Skylei’s face gets wider and wider to the point that she looks like she might turn into a Cheshire cat. Food arrives and is ignored as Skylei continues in her rapturous gaze. “Leone. You are” Skylei shakes her head, “Wonderful- cleverer than I am- quite frankly, I-“ She shakes her head again as though she is the opposite of a nodding dog, “Quite frankly,” She tries again, “I am in awe.” One more shake of her head and then another grin, “So, you think it’s plausible?”

Leone drags her bowl toward her, a nod given to Skylei. "It would take some trial and error, and I am not familiar with arcane runes, only holy ones. Holy runs will accomplish at least a part of what you wish," the plover intones, "wait! I take that back. I'm fairly sure I can accomplish it entirely with Holy runes, as long as you've no objections. Some people have an aversion to all things religion," the blacksmith states among a peal of laughter. "I have several projects to finish, and wouldn't be able to start right away. Perhaps in a week or two, but I admit that the project is intriguing," the diminutive female agrees with a grin. "Do you happen to have a codex of blood samples from living, sentient beings? If not, we'll need volunteers. One from each race should be just fine."

Skylei nods at the talk of holy runes, “They are ideal.” And then onto the topic of blood. “I have some, though many are hard to source due to racial secrecies. Of course, we cannot hope to perfect it so that creatures such as the undead and those afflicted with vampiracy will be immune, and I don’t know what the effects would be on someone such as a drayd. Though they are of the forest so perhaps it would simply register them as plant…” Skylei pauses and pulls herself back onto track, “but in the area that I plan to hunt those most at risk are human, elf, minotaur and lycan. Those bloods I have in my possession or can source easily, and my own – of course. I wouldn’t want to be caught in my own trap.” Skylei laughs. What a ridiculous image, “Perhaps we should try with those three as a prototype and then, should it work, in a few months create a second, hopefully safer, contraption? The vampires of Vailkrin might be able to help with the sourcing… I know many have a penchant for particular kinds of blood but that might take time.”

Leone manages to eat a few spoonfulls of food before it was her turn to speak again, rapt attention split between Skylei and her bowl. Clearing her mouth of any offensive, masticated bits, the blacksmith begins by saying, "I think a good testing field for preliminaries would be the desert next to Gualon. It's close to my forge, and I can easily procure blood from the different denizens. The wraiths are not a concern," the farrier finishes dismissively, as if the danger they posed is a preposterous notion. "I think, perhaps, dryads would be safe, yes. Do undead bleed still? Wouldn't their blood just be equivalent to whatever their race was while they were living? Vampires, though. I believe they change. Perhaps if you approach them as an emissary wishing to ensure their safety, they'd be more forthcoming?"

Skylei has completely forgotten her food. Instead she’s entirely focused on Leone and the conversation in hand, “And then I would propose, doing a second test in the environment it’s designed to be used in to ensure that the movement of the forest itself does not interfere with its workings? And of course, if this works, this could be an innovation in hunting. In technology!” Skylei’s eyes are already wide with the possibility of how this could be used. She’s already planning to visit Vailkrin and procure blood samples.

Leone nods slowly, a finger coming to tap at her frenulum, just below her nose. "Yes, one trial where it's unlikely anyone will be injured, and another where it's more likely, just to ensure the way the trap works like it is supposed to," the metallurgist confirms, Looking down to her hands, and subsequently her food, the shoer chortles lightly, "I've no interest in making history, honestly. If it comes down to that, this was all your doing!"

“Oh! Skylei adds, “And we should procure a lesser poison with similar properties to use in the tests, to prevent severe injuries! Just in case, y’know? I shall get speaking to the potion maker about that so that it will be ready for the tests. I shan’t use something that could kill until I am ready to use it properly.” Skylei nods as though pleased with her forward planning before turning her thoughts to making history, “It’s also good for business, I hear.” Skylei grins and then leans down to the bag she had placed on the floor, pulling out three things; a quill, some parchment, and a rather large bag of coins. With a scribble of the quill she pushes the bag across the table to Leone, “For purchasing materials and whatever else you might need. And my address in Cenril, you must send for me as soon as you’re ready to start working or if you need anything. Anything at all.” She means it. Literally anything.

Leone is suddenly overwhelmed by the handing off of gold. "Very well, then," the smith manages to stammer, nodding in regard to the poison proposal. "Yes, I'm afraid concocting poisons and potions and...the like...are where my skillset ends. Unless I can smash them into being with a hammer, I'm spend," the farrier chuckles. "I'll need a vial for measurements, too. We have to know how much space to allow for, after all. The mechanism will need careful execution if we expect everything to run simply by magic. I'll begin sketching out the runic language first, just to make sure it can be inscribed accurately on the wire," the farrier states, more to herself than to Skylei: she was making a gameplan.

Skylei tries to ignore the stammer and instead smiles and continues bouncing along like a hyperactive child. “I would be fascinated to see the runes once you’ve drawn them up. My own speciality is dwarven, but I have little expertise with holy so it would be of great interest. I’ll draw up all of the measurements as soon as I have conformations. If I can get a vial of the correct size, I’ll have it sent to the forge immediately” Skylei smiles, “At least you have a skill of some use. I’m merely a collector of information with none of the skill to execute it.” Skylei jumps up, energised with something inspite of her lack of food. With a look out of the window, Skylei makes a snap judgement. She’s up and out of her seat in second grabbing her coat and bag and gesturing towards the door, “If I leave now, I’ll make it to Xalious before it’s completely dark. Then on to Vailkrin tomorrow. I have people to see, things to collect, sketches to draw…” She’s getting ahead of herself already

Leone can only nod as Skylei seems to rebound off the walls of the tavern, the smith taking a moment to steady her own head with a hand. "That sounds good. We'll be in touch, after I figure out precisely how thin I can make the Ghroudium. I'll be happy to send you my journal of runes, as well. Everything's there in common, as well as glyphic, so they're easily translatable," the shoer says, her voice lifted above the din of the establishment, so that the departing Skylei might hear her better.