03:46p] › WaylandSmith changes topic to: Currently at an inn near the edge of the Karian peninsula marshes. The inn is set beside a bridge over a major river on a slightly elevated section of land. The surroundings towards the west are bleak and marshy and still somewhat desolate to the east as well. The river has carved deep escarpments in the soft sandy and chalk ground. Post apocalyptic Gor - roleplay required.
[03:46p] › WaylandSmith changes welcome message to: At the moment the Inn is manned by a small crew of slaves and the owner Gerald and his family. Only a pair of patrons - beside Wayland - are staying at the establishment. The entertainment and food are of insipid quality and the weather outside is equally unwelcoming with gusts of wind and slashing rains.
[04:57p]
WaylandSmith Having cared for his stabled bosk, the smith picked idly at the food that had been set before him. It was warm, well luke-warm to be precise and consisted of a gruel in which floated some fatty blobs of meat that were presumably tarsk but he was disinclined to verify by asking. Some other bits of congealed vegetables floated in thin watery sauce - Wayland was not a fussy eater but having spent a little too long in the lashing rain he missed the heat of his forge.
[05:00p]
WaylandSmith The food tasted just about as bland as it looked, glancing through the open kitchen door he saw Gerald, the innkeeper issuing instructions to his slaves. The girls nodded sagely before turning to execute whatever it was that he had ordered. The taller one of the kajira, with the mousy brown hair, moved into the common room with a basket of turnips. In her other hand was a copper pan with a large handle so it could be hung over a fire.
[05:02p]
WaylandSmith From the strained look on her face and the whitened knuckles he supposed that the copper pan was filled with water and was heavy. She sat down on a stool in front of a low table and relieved herself of the pan with obvious relief. Slipping a leather apron over herself she picked a turnip and one of those typical slave girl knives from the basket of vegetables.
[05:03p]
WaylandSmith The smith would have looked away already but idle interest in any knife, wether a weapon or a dagger made his eyes linger on the bony fingers of the kajira as she set the short rounded blade knife to peel the turnip. Somewhat to his surprise the knife seemed to slice through the thick skin of the vegetable with disconcerting ease.
[05:06p]
WaylandSmith Wayland rubbed his stubbly chin - a sharp slave knife? What an odd thing - not only sharp but darn sharp - the kajira had sliced off the skin in one smooth motion circling the vegetable. The skin fell off in a long and unbroken ribbon into her lap settling onto the leather. The turnip was tossed into the pan with a small splash that threw droplets onto the girl's leg. She shivered noticeably - the water in the pan was cold it seems.
[05:08p] › Clays has joined the conversation. Passport: 1303692ce491e72b4d786e16a28bc081
[05:08p] › Clays has left the conversation. Passport: 1303692ce491e72b4d786e16a28bc081
[05:09p]
WaylandSmith in a sympathetic feeling the smith also shivered whether from the memory of the lashing rain he had endured or in reaction to the girl's shiver he wasnt sure. Fascinated despite himself he watched her dispatch another turnip with practised ease, practiced but also courtesy of the short knife. Embarassed by the intensity of his own gaze and wary lest someone suspect he was ogling the kajira with a different purpose in mind he glanced around the room. There were three more people...
[05:11p]
WaylandSmith a fat merchant sat at a table with a younger side-kick - they were clearly oblivious of the smith let alone of the latter's sudden interest in the peeling of turnips. The other patron, a gentlemen dressed in black sat aside and was intent on a set of cards he laid in front of him, the smith was unable to spy what they were but they seemed colourful and drawn with multiple figures. The dark figure muttered under his breath and similarly to the other patrons paid scant attention to the kajira.
[05:13p]
WaylandSmith splashing noises had marked the advancing of the kajira in her task - she was making short shrift of it - his curiosity getting the better of him the smith rose to his feet and walked over to where the kajira laboured away. With a sweep of his hand he slid his dark locks back into a semblance of order and narrowed his verdi gris eyes into the knife. Belatedly the slave girl became aware of his approach and she glanced up in alarm her eyes communicating an unspoken question: WTF?
[05:15p]
WaylandSmith Wayland reckoned that some might have found it necessary to back hand the girl for her impertinent look but he was relaxed in his demands of others as he was on himself. Without speaking a word, he seized her wrist in a firm grip - the steel of his sinews as good as a proper shackle and the roughness of his workman's hand grating against her skin. A look of genuine fear now flashed across her face and she mumbled something - possibly 'Master?'
[05:17p]
WaylandSmith still wordless the smith excised the small knife from her hand and examined the steel - a professional interest his gaze was business like. Having obtained what he wanted from the girl he let go of her wrist and didnt give her a second glance. Sliding his calloused thumb from the upper edge towards the sharp end he felt the keenness of the edge.
[05:17p]
WaylandSmith : Pretty sharp.
[05:19p]
WaylandSmith he said as much to himself as to any listener. Taking hold of the handle he placed his thumb on the end of the knife and tested its tensile strength. It was a remarkably well made blade, in fact extraordinary, who had made such an utilitarian item from such high quality steel? Flipping the item over he examined the hilt.
[05:20p]
WaylandSmith The hilt was made of bone and carved with a sinewy abstract pattern, the end was a copper butt stampted with the intertwined letters T & C. Obviously its maker cared enough for it to be known he made the humble knife - no other signs of its origins were visible.
[05:24p]
WaylandSmith : GERALD: Fancy little knife eh? Its a relic from a bygone time when the previous inkeeper held court here. He was like me in the sense that he trusted his kajiras not to harm him, after all what would they do alone in this god forsaken place. The knife has a very keen edge, legend has it that it was made a visiting Black and Gray.
[05:24p]
WaylandSmith : Oh?
[05:25p]
WaylandSmith : GERALD: Yes - a large party from some fancy city came to our little neck of the woods in pursuit of a metallic ore that was allegedly found in the caves the river dug in the chalk walls and sandy bluffs in these parts. Seems they found what they sought and as a parting gift the Black & Grey left behind this little knife for the slave girl cook that had served them during their long stay.
[05:26p]
WaylandSmith Testing the knife again the smith pondered that whatever alloy had been found was of extraordinarily quality. Now fully interested he inquired about the location where the ore was found. Gerald made a dismissive gesture.
[05:27p]
WaylandSmith : GERALD: There is a bend where the river slips back nigh 180 degrees - some caves allegedly led to a pocket of this ore. The black and greys mined it completely before they left, the innkeeper took the knife for himself because of course the girl couldnt own anything. It is very sharp but not very dangerous in man to man combat and so since that time it has been used by many serving girls in this establishment.
[05:29p]
WaylandSmith the smith pursed his lips - further questions to Gerald regarding the ore made him little wiser but all the more curious. He resolved he would seek out the larger cave and find whether truly all ore had been mined as the innkeeper averred. Infused with sudden energy he didnt let his interest in metal working obscure his wisdom - methodically he started gathering all the materials he might need if he went spelunking, starting with good rope and a hooded lantern.
[05:35p]
WaylandSmith After breaking fast in the morning the smith gathered the materials for his small expedition. The wry cynical smile of the innkeeper didnt bother him in the least, certainly many men had gone before him to find this legendary ore and found none however none had been quite so obsessed with metalworking as Wayland. Picking up the backpack he ran through his mental list of must have things and could not think of a single he might be short of even if he got into difficulty inside the cave.
[05:35p]
WaylandSmith : GERALD: Would you mind settling your account before you leave? If you get caught in a flood in the cave you might not make it back and leave me short of my due.
[05:36p]
WaylandSmith Raising an eyebrow the smith forebore to point out that in that case the innkeeper would inherit a cart, a bosk and a small smithy all for nought. Shrugging he paid the few tarsks of his account and set off towards the cave.
[05:39p]
WaylandSmith finding the cave posed no particular difficulties and he lowered himself down the first section without even needing to use his rope. The next section fored him to wade through icy water but he penetrated as well he might through the fragile realm of stalactites and stalagmites. After a number of ahns he found the place where the ore had been mined - it was a pocket it seemed and little to nothing was left - his fingers picked up an odd pitch black dust. Metal certainly but one unknown to him.
[05:40p]
WaylandSmith the surroundings were decidedly discouraging the innkeeper had spoken truth when he said many had been here before - they seemed to have excavated in every direction possible and found only rubble and chalk. The smith scratched idly left and right but this was a fool's errand so much was clear...
[05:41p]
WaylandSmith suddenly a deep tremour shook the cave and the smith lost his footing striking his head against a sharp stalagmite - momentarily ehns, ahns he wasnt sure in the dark - he lost conciousness. Waking to find himself covered in chalk and in pitch darkness as his lantern had burned out. Just feeling his way in the dark he laboriously refilled the oil and fumbled with his flint and steel managing to light the lamp once more.
[05:43p]
WaylandSmith As light came on he laughed mirthlessly - he looked like a ghost - covered in white chalk from top to toe - shining the light around the cave he found to his relief it didnt seem to have collapsed in the direction of his exit - a large section of the roof had come down however - it had missed him by a narrow margin. Shining the light into the chalky chalk dome that had been created he saw a pocket of black.
[05:43p]
WaylandSmith : By the Priest Kings who would have known?
[05:45p]
WaylandSmith Climbing on the unsteady rubble he managed to reach the pocket of black dust - it was held but loosely. Using the pickaxe and shovel he loosened it and it suddenly poured out like a fountain of grainy sand. Fine black dust - he gathered it - it was a few stone no more - but it was precious to him.
[05:47p]
WaylandSmith making his way back to the exit of the cave he found the final cave filled with water - it seems the earth had shaken and water had risen. With nothing to do but have patience the smith settled down in darkness to wait - it was a long wait - in his mind days passed but in the pitch black he could not tell. He could see that the water lowered gradually and eventually he made his way out. His eyes squinted in the pale sunlight of a westering sun - the land seemed even more desolate than before.
[05:49p]
WaylandSmith His nose twitched - he smelt fire - an old fire near extinguished. Looking in the direction of the inn he saw it was a pile of rubble, collapsed and smouldering. Still covered in the white chalk the smith made his way back to the inn - it was utterly destroyed all the people in it dead. The only one missing was the man in Black - everyone was gone - what ill fated event had taken place?
[05:50p]
WaylandSmith looking towards the bridge he saw it had collapsed and moreover - water seemed to be rising from the marshes - here and there tufts of vegetation could be seen but it was obvious some flooding was occurring. Some apocalyptic event had taken place when he was underground but what was it?