Small Crafts

Log Info

• Title: Small Crafts
• Emitter: Tlanexhuani
• Characters: Tlanexhuani, Skielstregar
• Place: Mictlan
• Time: March 21st, 2023
• Summary: Tlanexhuani is practicing his craft. So is Skielstregar. Though the latter is magically titanic as he drags logs about for the great fire before getting into conversation with Tlanexhuani about forging. He's still a novice, showing off his electrically conductive armour that facinates the massive silverscale. Still leagues better than Skiel, the silverscale surmises.

Some rain falls in Mictlan, but this is better than snow... to those not so inclined to the cold and more accustomed to the jungle. Tlanexhuani is one such, and his seat near one of the fires is for work rather than food or warmth. His large hammer is on the ground next to him, lain flat so he can use its side as a small anvil. Upon that is a narrow band of copper that he taps on with another, smaller hammer.

Rain begets gentle rolling thunder, the subtle vibration in the land and air. But then, such vibrations don't seem to cease. A puddle nearby ripples subtly. Then firmly. Sloshing over.

A towering, massive figure, a couple stories tall, emerges from the woods. The lack of sun makes it so their presence isn't blinding, but the ambient reflections of the fire make it looks like a rolling ember on scales. Behind them, held under an arm, was a dozen or so logs of felled trees like they nothing more than large branches.

Skielstregar. Is. Titanic.

He carefully sets the wood down next to the great fires, but his grand vantage point allows him to spot- "CRAFTER TL-"

He coughs, speaking far too loud for his size, and tries to speak quieter, which was still loud and deeply bassy. "Crafter Tlanexhuani. Peace on your nest," he greets warmly in their native tongue.

GAME: Skielstregar casts Enlarge Person. Caster Level: 10 DC: 14

A Thunderclaw is not stealthy, so the bluescale is alerted by the vibrations in his tail if not the puddle. He instinctively rises as the massive form comes into view, before recognition sets in. Even after, he blinks slow up at the sizable silver. "Warrior Skielstregar! Hail!" He lifts his small hammer in greeting. "You look ...different... Did you polish your scales today?" Deadpan is not quite so simple when one's tail is twitching of its own accord, but he makes the attempting.

The joke lands, the towering silverscale laughing merrily into the air. Several kin nearby flinch, as it was no quiet matter. Skiel winces, "Ahah- ah. Sorry, sorry!" he rumbles to them before he dusts his hands off with a >thud, thud<.

Slowly, methodically, he sits down beside Tlanexhuani, still several feet over them. "This one polishes sometimes, yes, but they have been doing some labor, so they may be of need of polishing later." Dead eyes glance about the space. Voice still rumbling bassily, he asks, "This one did not mean to interrupt, what are you working on?"

"This one small, make small work," the bluescale explains with a humorous hiss. The copper strip is held up as he looks to it. "Not yet know. Some become wire, some strap. Now just make flatter, longer." A vague gesture of claw before he tucks it away in one of several pouches. "You do large work." Now claws wave at the deposited logs.

Skiel rumbles in a chuckle, almost akin to the distant rolling thunder. He tilts his head to the side, looking from the small work to the big work. "Sssa. This one does much of the heavy lifting for those around here. Mostly wood for the crafters and cooks."

He looks back to Tlan, inspecting their attire. "... this one must ask, as they never got to; you are in much metal, but it does not look like armor? This one has seen others in similar attire, but this one does not know what it... does? At least for you? They look like splints, but your legs do not appear broken."

Looks down at himself, or rather his armor, as it is. "Ssa, iss armor. Ssa, iss different." The semi-dangling dangling vertical pieces of bronze are brushed with clawtips, making them jangle like odd chimes. "This one not see many of The People wear metal scales; not in Mictlan. This is new to this one, very old to others. Is not strongest, is not most silent. Is easy to walk. This one fall over if covered snout to tail in iron!" A snort-hiss of laughter follows.

Skiel watches on, quite curious about it and the explanation. Scaled brows raise at the jingling. "No, not many wear metal scales. And some armor does not fit well." He snickers. "That is another reason this one does not go head to tail in such armor, they like to move."

He ponders. "... well, they could do it, but they still like to move faster. That metal is lighter for certain. This one had to get softskins to make special armor for this one. Take many softskin coins to do, but is worth it. Light without being soft."

He points to the dangling pieces of bronze. "Is armor part of your tribe?"

"No," Tlanexhuani pauses, tail slowing. "And ssa. Is and not? Not many metal crafter in tribe, not much metal. Sharp blades, tips for spear, yes. Not for metal scales. This one learn to forge later. After tribe." His tail flicks again and he shifts in tone to smack his chest firmly with palm. "Is strong, good! Likes spark of this one's blood."

Skiel looks pensive at that, him scratching his maw with a talon. "It likes sparks of bluescale? That is... hrm. Interesting. This one wonders if you cover self in sparks with it?"

His tail threatens to sway, but he resists, as currently it is as large as one of the logs that he brought over. "Learned to forge after? This one admits they only know how to take care of weapons, not how to forge them. They worry they may break tools if they tried."

"Ssa, after," Tlanex confirms. "This one old, new to forge." He thumps his chest again. "First armor for this one. Is only armor forged. Hammer for this one," he is reminded to stoop and reclaim it from the ground. With a grunt. "Is only tool this one forged."

After setting it to his belt, his tail thumps the ground when he he addresses the other question. "Ssa! Armor forged for this one, iss like part of this one." Claws move to chest again and thump, though this time it is not forceful and more... focused. There is also a spark. A small one that leaps from claws to bronze strips then divides into tinier versions as it bounds and spreads rapidly from strip to strip across the armor. It isn't powerful, but it is enough to make the bronze -move-. A shift here, a bounce there, tightening here as it clings more firmly to his limbs; the reinforced skirt even seperates to envelope each of his upper legs.

Skielstregar bobs his massive head along, watching on. His maw opens to ask a question, but Tlan hits his armor. The silverscale's eyes widen as the sparks jump to and fro from the pieces of bronze. His tail wags in large motions behind him. "Aaah! That is most impressive! You truly are of the Crafting caste!" he enthuses.

A massive, branch thick talon reaches forward to carefully poke one of the moving pieces on a limb. "Your armor is alive!" he whispers, fascinated.

Tlanexhuani looses some deep (though not as deep as Skielstregar) hissing chuckles. "Is a little alive, from this one." The warrior's exuberant interest is warming and delightful, though the compliment causes his tail to curl self-consciously about his ankle. "This one still learns forge. Craft baskets, thatch hut, many simple things, this one knows better."

Skiel shakes his head, the motion causing a waft of cold air to move through the displaced air. "Simple. Complicated. All useful. Still learning? You know more than this one. Most this one can do is make trap for game. Maybe make small hut. But cannot do what you do."

He grins, leaning back. "Take pride in what you do, no matter how small."

"Ssa," the bluescale acknowledges, tail uncurling now to sway. "This one start small, will grow." A claw points at the giant snout once it stops shaking and he chortles. "Like you!" Not exactly like Skielstregar, of course, but it is still funny. To Tlanexhuani.

Skielstregar chuckles, maw pulling back some to grin. The claw pointing at his snout gets him to wince, but he easily leans down to boop his nose against the claw. "This one thinks if you grew to this size, you may have problems with small work," he rumbles. "But who knows what wonders you could make of this stature!"

With a grunt, he rises to his feet. "This one will leave you to your crafts, Tlanexhuani. Please let this one know if you have need of lumber or firewood. They have... a lot."

-End Scene-