Nailing Down an Order

The Ilife Smithy is a common place to see a certain mul'niessa novice smith these days. Sun-up, often to sun-down, it seems like she is dedicating nearly every waking hour to learning, refining... and, maybe one day, mastering the skills of the forge. She has a long way to go. She's also not made of unlimited endurance; at the moment she is letting the forge cool, sitting upon a stool and wiping at her face with a rag cooled with rainwater.

Bearing the weather and hour with equal aplomb, a shrouded figure darkens the stoop as it were after the Mul'niessa has found some few minutes to relax.

rainwater mattes the veils to the subtly distorting contours of the dark face(?), mask(?) beneath.

The head cocks, and the shift in shadow hint the boundries of a dark mask over lighter featues.

Gloved hands come together, flexing, tapping and wiggling through several gestures.

"Do you know these words?" the figure tries first. <handspeech>

Nemori glances up, becoming aware of another presence at the forge. Her eyes immediately narrow; hard not to be suspicious about a figure garbed so, particularly a figure who didn't announce themselves. There is a knife at her hip, and her hand falls to it even as Venom signs to her. Nemori can only shake her head. "I do not know what that means. If you can speak... there is no coin on the premises. The forge master collects all of it every evening."

There's a soft huff from the shrouded figure that barely ruffles her soggy veils, though it does prompt a little misty about where it's nose would be.

There is a little shake of that head, and a finger lifts to wag slowly in a somewhat chiding fashion before it moves to point toward some piece of recent craft, a tong, a nail, even a horseshoe that lingers yet in view, then the head cants.

Nemori makes a bit of a face, but suppresses her first instinct to chase the shrouded person away. Forcing herself to think about what Robert would do, being that this is /his/ business after all. "Come in out of the wet, then," she tells Venom, her hand moving away from the knife as she rises to her feet. "I am merely the apprentice here. If there is something you wish forged, I may be able to help.. but anything that requires any great amount of skill will have to be referred to the Forge Master. I can put your name down in the ledger."

Venom has partially disconnected.

Venom has disconnected.

Venom has connected.

The figure steps forward, one hand held to one side, palm forward and open, as the other slowly dips under the poncho for a moment and barely more, then emerges, once she's stepped under the roof, with a pad and pen clutched in the fingers of that hand.

She starts to scribble, then...

When the poncho'd woman steps inside, Nemori moves to the workbench where a board with a small stack of papers clipped to it hangs from a peg. She pulls this down, apparently expecting Venom's request to be beyond her own ability to deal with.

With the unspoken assent, the figure peels the paper from the pad and lays it upon the bench.

"Require 12 each of these."

'These' being a drawing of what looks like a long nail without a head, accompanied by a matrix of measurements.

"And these"

This new 'these' being some kind of star shape, with another such formula.

"Offer twenty gold pieces for the lot.

-Venom"

She then reaches under the poncho with her other hand, laying what looks very much like the real versions of these designs atop the note.

'Venom' cocks her head.

Nemori watches Venom write, then presses the paper with two fingers to slide it closer to her own gaze, turning it. "Venom. The nails I can do," she says without hesitation, confident. "The others... I have but begun learning about weaponcraft," she admits, making an assumption. After all, the example of the star looks rather more like a weapon than anything else. "I will attempt, but it will likely fall to the Forge Master to finish those." She begins making notes in the ledger. "I can have the first portion of your request done tomorrow. The others may take another day. Or two."

There is a nod as the Mul'niessa begins to explain her appraisal of the commision, and at several salient points after.

There comes a little thumbs-up, then Venom dips back under the poncho to set a stack of ten coins on the center of the note before leaning over to write in the corner,

"Will return in a week.

Thank you."

Nemori glances at the stack of coins for a moment, consideringly, then she shakes her head, not moving to take them. "The forgemaster is sometimes forced to stay away for periods of time. Until he tells me otherwise, I believe we are following a payment upon receipt of goods policy. In the event that important matters keep him away." Nemori gestures to the coins, then looks full on at Venom. Perhaps trying to pierce the shroud of the veils and poncho to get a clue at the person within. When the mul smiles, politely, it's the kind of smile that doesn't quite meet her own eyes.

There is a slow nod as it seems to be a question of policy.

Interesting, and worth noting.

There is a thumbs-up once more, and the gloved hand extends toward the coins to reclaim them. The silhouette beneath the wet veils is largely feminine, though the shimmer of a buckle, and buldge of some sort of reinforced, meandering stitch throws the finder details somewhat askew.

Somewhat stymied by her examination of the other woman, Nemori examines the two examples more closely instead. Raising first the headless nail close to her eyes, she turns it, then sets it aside before picking up the bladed star instead. "I would venture to guess these are not weapon you would carry in the open. The forgemaster will probably want assurances you are not going to use them to murder someone in the city." She pauses. "He has strong feelings about that sort of thing."

Venom shakes her head, at first, as if to leave that as the summit of her reply, but hesitates as she starts to turn away, then starts to scribble anew:

"I have no plans to."

Nemori reads the note, then shrugs. Another smile, followed by a nod. "I will pass those assurances on, then." The smile fades a little, though not quite turning into a frown, as she looks at the star again. "The balance on this may be beyond me. But your.. tools... should be ready within the week." Another pause. "Ah, forgive me. I gave you the forgemaster's name, but not mine. I am Nemor'i."

Venom nods at that, seeming fine with the parameters set forth. It takes a moment before further considerations come into play and, once emptied beneath the poncho, one gloved hand extends toward the newly introduced apprentice.

Nemori glances at the hand, a moment's hesitation.. but then the moment is passed and she extends hers to clasp with it. A hand obviously unused to the rough work it's been subjected to these past few weeks, judging by the barely healed blisters and fresh calluses.