eachdraidh | Forge Three - (Audio/Action)

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Forge Three - (Audio/Action)

Bloody fairies never manage to get things right, do they?

[Like many, Gendry received his boon two days ago, but he hasn't gotten any closer to making proper use of it. Oh sure, walking back and forth through a set of mirrors is a jolly experience, but it's a pain in the ass if they're both in the same room. Though he won't deny he did have a bit of fun setting them across each other and walking through the portal over and over. But! That's not what he'd wanted!]

Seems if you want something decent, you've got to be specific. Seven hells... [He has no choice! He must do the unthinkable:] Stiles, you still about?

[Yes. He must ask STILES for help. That most dreaded of occurrences! Sure, there might be other people who could teleport him from Cothromach to Troichean Beinn in a blink of the eye. But those are other people and Gendry's faith in other people is roughly equivalent to his faith in this war ending amicably. If he's called a suspicious bastard, then it is a one hundred perfect accurate description of him.

But the locket is still in his hand and he realizes he's addressing both courts at large. Damn.]

... just, be careful about your boons, eh? The fairies like to be stingy, if you let them. [There. He's done the community at large a favor.]

[At the Cothromach]

backdated to 26th
When Gendry wasn't in his room messing about with a set of magic mirrors, he was hard at work at one of the forges. Though he wasn't officially apprenticing at any of the shops, one of the master smiths had agreed to hire Gendry on while he was in the city. So that meant keeping busy as he hammered tirelessly at some new sword. His Shard ached as he drew on its power to give superhuman blows. It was hard work and the sword wouldn't even be his, but he now knew enough about dwarven magic that he could finally give his uncle a good and strong sword. This is what he'd been doing ever since the battle had ended and he'd at last turned his work to other projects. This item was now nearly done and by evening, after he'd honed it to a razor's edge, he would find his uncle's home in the Cothromach to come knocking.

27th
After his message on the lockets, Gendry left to be at his normal routine. He was living in the Keeper's tower now and so he would eat his first and last meals of the day there. Other hours would see him in the market, working at one of the forges earning his wages by small commissions of tools or shoeing horses. Hardly work for an apprentice of Bordan Gret, but he did not seem to mind this simpler work. For those looking to find him or simply anyone in the city looking for goods, he was an easy man to find. His grumbling about boons aside, he was in as good a mood as he could be expected to be in.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Have you tried calling customer service?

[He tries to put all those words in their proper context. He knew what a customer was! But he did not know what that had to with boons. Much less what service was involved. But he could already peg her accent as that annoying sort of wishy-washy speech that Stiles spoke in. He was irritated already.]

Bugger that. I can make it work. But it's going to be a bloody pain doing it.

Right. Okay.

But why?

[ why is it gonna be a -- as he so eloquently put it -- a bloody pain? ]

What's it matter to you? It is what it is. [That's the Westerosi way of saying 'mind your own business' without the use of a sword.]

It's a slow day on the bounty circuit.

[ that is to say: i'm bored -- entertain me! ]

What's a bounty circuit? [He asks perhaps cleverly, perhaps not. At least it's not about his boon.]

[ ah. see. now this is tricky. it's one thing to make an off-handed comment about her work (such as it was) and then quite another to own up to it in so public a fashion. and it's not that buffy is even all that ashamed of hunting down monsters for coin -- it's no true calling, really, but it keeps her and her best friend with inns aplenty and food and the odd splurge at the station.

but the slayer is used to secrecy. she's never been a clark kent type, but still! ]

You know. Bounties. Like if you're being bugged by a -- by a giant bug, perhaps. And you want someone to, ahem, negotiate that giant bug right out of your path. So it's not bugging you any more. And then maybe you pay someone for doing that negotiating.

[ she's a filthy filthy mercenary. oh, she has her lines she draws in the sand. but basically? the woman's a hired blade. ]

Edited 2014-11-27 14:43 (UTC)

Sounds like bloody nonsense. Best to just kill the bug instead.

[He might have realized she was just using a lighter description, but he assumed bounty circuit to be some new trade he was unfamiliar with. In this strange land, it might not be odd to have someone whose job it was to simply talk monsters away. But he still held the opinion it was better to just kill one and be done with it.]

I dunno, stranger. Be honest: three more minutes of this conversation and you'd be fit to flee too, am I right?

[ she's totally okay with him thinking she....talks monsters away. ] It's a talent.

I ain't no giant bug. But you ain't exactly good conversation.

[It was almost a compliment to her trade, but mostly an insult to her bothering him about his mirrors]

Oh. Mister. Trust me. I ain't too insulted by what you think is and isn't good conversation.

[ oh yeah she went there. ]

[He doesn't even realize he's being mocked for 'ain't'. No one has ever told him there's anything wrong with it.]

So what do you do if you can't talk a giant bug away?

[ ugh. fine. she'll come clean. if only because maybe a little bit of publicity ain't a bad thing. ]

I cut off its head, duh. Or -- heads. Sometimes they have more than one. It gets messy.

You do that by yourself?

[He was skeptical, because he could see in the locket. She looked like some soft, prettied up girl. Not a killer like some might be. The Lady of Tarth she was not.]

Edited 2014-11-27 15:03 (UTC)

Well, I sometimes get some help from Mister Pointy.

Big fellow, is he? [Perhaps this Pointy chap was the one who did the actual killing when negotiations failed.]

Oh. Size doesn't matter.

[ please, it's what you do with it that counts. ]

Of course it matters. [He's a blacksmith and armorer. Nothing is more important than size.] To have a sword fit to take off a creature's head like that, you'd need a greatsword. To use one of them, you'd need someone big and strong enough to make use of it.

Can I hazard a guess? [ oh there is an unholy mischief in her eyes. ] You're, like, really tall. Aren't you?

[ it's always the tall ones who make this argument! ]

A bit. [He doesn't see the relevance of that.] But I'm a smith. It's my business knowing this. If I sold you a sword, it would be one fit for your size and it wouldn't be used for chopping off giant heads.

I much prefer an axe for a giant's head, anyway.

[ well. okay. she hasn't actually slayed a giant before -- and isn't so certain she would. but the pun was just begging to be made. ]

Axes are fine weapons. I've made one for myself. You've not seen so fine a weapon as it.

[At least as axes go! He's proud of the Valyrian steel axe. Indeed, even she could take off a head with a weapon so sharp.]

I dunno. I've seen some pretty fab blades.

[ the slayer misses her scythe. ]

Mine is spellforged. [So no, he doubts she has!]

[ she makes a grand show of blowing on her nails. ]

But does it come in red?

Edited 2014-11-27 15:40 (UTC)

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