-=--=--=--=--=--=<* A07: Lower Alexandria Market District *>-=--=--=--=--=--=-
          Just west of the Northern Highbridge and east of the arena, commerce blooms. Noisy and 

bustling, most anything may be purchased here for a price. Vendors from all cultures sell their wares 

from exotically colored carts, and the smells of different nations and far-off city-states mix with 

local ones from Alexandria and its riverbanks. 
 
          For all its commerce, visitors are advised to keep hold of their purses. Even the merchants 

possess a certain, cunning look. Most are positioned at carts or stalls as opposed to a formal 

storefront, with trade here being mobile, and visiting from all parts of the world. 
 
          Though the quality of goods suffers here compared to Upper Alexandria, the options are more 

diverse. Too, the oversight of the Watch is slightly less, and during times events are held at the 

Arena, chaos abounds. After dark, the square becomes a hangout for bards and other entrepreneurs whose 

business is best conducted by night; the shadows at the edges of the square often contain furtive 

figures engaging in their own brand of business.
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-- Contents --=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
 Walery          A pretty average-looking human. With a death ray.     0s   11m
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= Exits -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
Craft's Crafts (CC)       Anvilclang Smithy (AS)    Prestigious Moon (PM)
Fernwood Pub (FP)         West (W)                  Bridge (NE)
South (S)                 
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--<* A07: Anvilclang Smithy *>--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
          Down a quiet side alley, a large shield hangs in front of an unassuming shop. Formerly "Under 

Lock and Key," it appears the shop is under new management. The front door opens with the chime of a 

small silver bell on an array of locks, locking devices and keys. On the left hand side an assortment 

of metal shields of all types. On the right there is a set of display armor, and several historical 

smithing tools arranged thoughtfully on the wall. Straight across at the other end of the hardwood 

floor is a worn counter with a workbench behind it, though its polish is now influenced by soot. One 

can see the smithy just behind, a half-room over; and feel its heat. 
                                EXTRAS: +view                                 
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-- Contents --=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
 Walery          A pretty average-looking human. With a death ray.     0s   11m
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= Exits -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
Out (O)                   
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     Mick Walery is an Acanian human standing 5'9", with an average build and average looks, and who 

is, overall, pretty average-looking. Medium-brown hair, dark eyes, clean-shaven, he could be anyone in 

a crowd. A closer look will see some wiry toughness in his build, though, and a mania in his eyes that 

speaks of ancient things man was not meant to know. He wears a conservative dark-green tunic under a 

brown waist-length coat, and a mail shirt over that. His coat collar overhangs the neck of the mail 

shirt, and seems to have a simple pin on the collar. His pants are heavy, and match the shade of the 

coat, with a heavy black leather belt that has several pouches, with an inch-thick cross strap over his 

left shoulder. His boots are brown leather, and are knee-high, with fancy stitching. His death ray, 

when idle, is slung across his chest from a strap around his neck and one shoulder. The death ray looks 

a bit like a thunderbelcher, but with jeweled silver fittings and a complex sight on top, with a 

polished wood stock. What looks like a rectangular box of some unknown gray material is worn like a 

backpack. It has several small yellow and red gems set in a row, and woven metal cables connect it to 

his death ray. He wears a thunderbelcher on its own strap over his shoulder.

Erendriel has arrived.

	Erendriel is a young half-Llyranesi woman. Characteristically fair skin almost glows in the 

right light, contrasting with her long hair. That hair is mostly black, except for tips which grow pale 

are a faint red at the tip, and tied in a simple ponytail behind her pointed ears. In front, her red-

fringed bangs are held back by delicately-engraved silver circlet.

	Definitely shorter than the average human, barely five feet tall, she was not endowed with size 

from her human side. Her build is also very slim, apart from hips keeping her from that dreaded 

'boyish' tag. Her eyes are a golden color, fiery bright, and her pink lips have a brightness of their 

own without any adornment. Her nose small but her mouth slightly large.

	Her clothing shows the rewards of time spent in danger: wide, round goggles strapped across her 

forehead and brown boots are her primary accessories. Fitted somewhat trimly on her body is a 

shimmering silk gown, covering her in a blazing red-orange sheen from neck down, leaving her calves 

exposed from the knee, and her arms from the elbow to her beige calfskin gloves. The gown is held in 

place simply by a leather belt with a large, silver buckle.

	Over the gown on her torso is a chain shirt made of fine links of mithral. On her back is often 

a red-dyed leather backpack. When her sleeves allow it, a scar in the shape of a snowflake is visible 

on the inside of her right upper arm.

Carrying:
MyLists

Walery is in his smithy, which is newly set up, and contains, rather than the usual anvil and furnace 

type arrangements, some rather .... innovative things. First of all, the furnace has glowing gems in a 

line, just at eye level, and the lefthand 5 of them are illuminated from within. There are dials just 

below that. The open mouth of the furnace has a heavy played door in front of it, which keeps in the 

heat, though. The anvil seems normal, but there are mehcnanical arms hanging above it from the ceiling 

with grippers on the ends. And ... it must be a hammer, but it looks like it's mounted in a tube.

Erendriel is still relatively new to this place, and sometimse just explores things for no particular 

reason. Seeing a 'new' shop, she steps in, gawking at the furnace quietly. If noticed, she'll give a 

quiet wave.

Walery doesn't notice Erendriel's arrival, exactly, but there's a bell on the door that dings as it 

opens, and a row of gems along each wall that light at the tone. The light gets his attention, as the 

smithy's mechanisms are a bit loud. The sounds are muffled out in the custimer area, but there's a bit 

of noise as Walery opens the door and exits the workshop out into the customer area, closing the door 

behind him. "Ah, hello, good morning," he greets.

Erendriel points to the gems and the unusual structure, what with the glowing. "Hi, was curious.. what 

is that?" she asks with a smile.

Mikilos has arrived.

 Mikilos is a slender male Dawn Elf, freakishly tall by elven standards, standing a full head over the 

average human. His ivory skin and long blonde hair hold a rosy warmth, as if dappled in spring 

sunshine, even when such light is not present. His hazel eyes are deep set, and spark with curiousity. 

His hands are long and nimble, but hold callus and stain from long use in craft. 

 He is dressed in a simple Grey robe, of a simple cut, unadorned with decoration. It is however a 

strange, almost painfully Neutral Grey. His waist is defined by a simple leather belt, from which a 

scroll case hangs upon one side, a well-used scabbard on the other. Both trousers and boots are simple, 

black, and practical. An occasional cloak guards against the weather or dust. Upon his brow sits a 

simple circlet of silver, set with a small stone which shifts from blue to violet, depending on the 

light. 

Walery hrms? "Oh, those are to let me know what the temperature is inside the furnace. It's quite 

important to have it just right for whatever your forging, and different metals need different 

temperatures. Adamantium needs it so hot that all the gems would be lit. Mithral takes," he points to a 

gem 3/4 of the way along, "to here. Regular steel uses this setting," he points to the currently 

illuminated gem.

Walery is showing Erendriel some artificery bits he's used to upgrade a forge used to heat metal for 

his work. He's developed a series of glow-gems to show what the temperature is in the heat of his 

furnace.

Erendriel grips her backpack straps tightly, looking toward where the gems are set on the furnace. "Oh 

very interesting. So that's... some sort of magical device that controls the heat?" she asks with a 

smile. "I've never seen something like that before."

Mikilos enters quietly. Or as quietly as one can manage with the door chime. Smiling, the wizard takes 

a glance around, nodding greeting to the pair chatting. "Good morning."

Walery nods to Erendriel, "Oh, it's quite new. I invented it." He nods. "The gems don't control it, 

though, the control is this dial here," he gestures, "I can turn up or down the heat. The gems just 

read out the temperature." The door chime is accompanied by small flashing gems along the wall in the 

workspace itself, in case it's too loud to hear. Walery looks up and smiles to Mikilos, "Good morning, 

sir! And how are you this morning?"

Erendriel looks to the arriving Mikilos, and waves to him, as her attention is focused on the furnace. 

"A dial? Very interesting. Controlling the temperature like that, instead of putting... fuel on a fire? 

That must have been hard to do."

Mikilos nods again to Walery, eyeing the furnace somewhere between curious and wary. "Well enough. 

Looking for some mithril flux, my own supply got wet." He returns the wave to Erendriel, his own focus 

on the machine as well. "What sort of system work with the dial? A spell or some sort of slotted fuel 

intake?"

Walery nods to Erendriel, and he says, "In fact, this is a mana-fueled furnace, and the dial controls 

how quickly the mana is used. How quickly the fuel is consumed, in turn, controls the temperature. 

Doing the same with coal would have been much more complicated." He ohs to Mikilos, "Ah, sure!" He'll 

go over to a locker built into one wall. Built quite solidly into it. Like meant-to-contain-explosions 

solidly. He opens the lock, pulls back a bolt, slide a lever, and opens the heavy door, which when it 

opens is revealed to be a foot thick and layered sheets of various materials. He fetches a bottle with 

a paper label from a stack of half a dozen, steps out of the locker, closes the door (failing to reset 

all the sealing levers) and will pass the bottle to Mikilos.

(OOC) Walery says, "Perception checks?"
GAME: Erendriel rolls perception: (7)+8: 15
GAME: Mikilos rolls perception: (1)+17: 18 (EPIC FAIL)

Both of you notice the fine reddish dust in piles in the vault, on several of the shelves.

Erendriel looks for a place to lean, some piece of armor. "I um," she giggles. "Mana. That's all very 

interesting. What's that, um, red stuff, I'm curious as well? Sorry for all the questions..." she 

babbles a bit, just in a casual, chipper mood.

Mikilos watches with casual intrest, his focus on the bottle and it's contents. The elf takes a few 

moment to carefully eye them, cautiously unstoppering the bottle and waffing the fumes towards himself. 

Treating the materials as dangerous, just in case. Satisified, he stopps the bottle again and tucks it 

into a pouch, nodding to Erendriels question before adding his own. "What do i owe you?"

Walery huhs? "Red stuff?" Seems he hasn't noticed it, himself. Spacy Artificers. He opens the door 

again, and makes a sort of ACK noise, taking a stunned step back. "My steel!" he cries. He'll step into 

the vault to look more closely at the red powder. "Hrm." Mikilos's question is missed at first as he 

investigates this. "What -is- this?" he wonders aloud. For the curious, it's a simple matter to step 

past the counter and take a closer look.

Erendriel blinks and steps on through. "Oh no!" she gasps, popping on up a lot closer. "Did you get hit 

by a rust monster or something?" she speculates, looking all around up and down, around, for such a 

threat.

Mikilos nods in agreement. "Looks like rust at a glance. Though i've never heard of one hitting the -

inside- of a closed box." Curious, the wizard moves closer, eyeing the details.

(OOC) Walery says, "Perception checks again now that you're closer? Or Knowledge/dungeoneering?"
GAME: Mikilos rolls perception: (5)+17: 22
GAME: Mikilos rolls knowledge/dungeoneering: (15)+14: 29

GAME: Erendriel rolls perception: (15)+8: 23

Certainly not a full-sized rust monster, there's no way something that size could get into a vault like 

this undetected. But ... over there in the corner, is a gap the size of a mousehole, as if a mouse 

could eat through layers of steel a foot thick. You both notice mouse-sized tracks in the rust.

You paged Mikilos with 'And you know that newly hatched rust monsters would be about that size.'

Erendriel bites her lip, and steps forward, pointing at the hole. "Um...." she says. "That... looks 

like your problem."

Mikilos frowns thoughfully, eyeing the piles for a few moments. "It looks like the effects of a rust 

monster, certainly, but they're quite large." He considers a moment. "I suppose one could get shrunk 

down with a spell easy enough." He blinks. "Or a hatchling! They don't tend to wander, but if one was 

hungry enough, certainly could have caused this sort of mess." He considers a moment, and gestures to 

one of the piles of rust. "May I?"

Walery ehs to Erendriel, "Mice?" he asks. "That's got to be the most butch mouse ever to eat through my 

vault walls. We get them occasionally, but normally in the kitchens," he complains. "But the real 

problem is going to be patching the hole," he goes off on a tangent. "I have to cut down the layers, 

reforge the plates, and re-weld it back together. That'll take -weeks-," he groans. Mikilos's comment 

is met with a "Huh? Sure?"

Erendriel backs up as Mikilos suggests he's going to do a thing. "I wouldn't just patch it... nto 

without handling whatever that was. Or.. it's just going to eat it again, right?"

Mikilos steps foreward, and touches his fingertips lightly to one of the piles, murmuring softly under 

his breath. Fingertips and pile glow for a moment, as power and Order are returned, negating 

destruction, returning the item to it's previous form. "Ah good... hrmm, suppose I should have asked if 

any item in particular was significant, but I wasn't certain that would work."

GAME: Mikilos casts Make Whole. Caster Level: 12 DC: 20

Walery nods to Erendriel, "You're right, of course, but I -do- have to patch it eventually, also." Or 

he could ask a wizard to use magic, which seems altigether much more efficient. "Oh!" he gasps as a 

fair amount of the steel is restored and the hole in the vault is utterly gone. "Er, thank you very 

much!" he says to Mikilos.

Erendriel folds her arms, looking at how it works. "Hopefully patching the hole doesn't um, you know, 

make it harder to track where they came from..." She then steps out of the vault, to try to go around 

from the side...

Mikilos nods. "No problem. Though you have a point, likely should have found the thing first... I'm -

assuming- it's a baby rust monster, but that's really just speculation... they aren't typically 

malicious, you know. Just hungry. Can be quite playful when properly trained and well fed."

Walery winces at the idea of training and feeding a rust monster. "I'll get a cat, I think," he says. 

As far as finding the thing, he says, "I'm thinking that if I add a layer of wood to the outside of the 

vailt. Or stone, maybe, that'll stop rust monsters. It's on a stone foundation, so that side's safe."

Erendriel stands outside, viewing very side of the vault she can, trying to see where it might have 

come from. "That must be scary, having one of those around if your whole business is metal..."

Mikilos nods. "If it's an option, I'd go stone. I'm not sure how strong they are, but I know they can 

be relentless when they smell metal. If you have any scrap, might lay that out as a bait or 

distraction. let it eat that rather than go after your good stuff. Of course, you start feeding it, and 

you've got a pet rust monster, want one or not."

Walery agrees with Erendriel, "Yes, that would certainly wreck my business. Slow as it is. I had 

thought that warriors would be lining up to have armor forged. I can undercut the fellows out there," 

he gesstures to the Market District outide, "by a fair amount. But I've had no customer so far. I 

thought every warrior and paladin would want plate armor." He sighs at misguessing his market. He 

listens with horror as Mikilos explains about the consequences, and he nods about stone. "Yes, a 

regular mouse could eat through the wood, and then I'd be vulnerable again. Stone sounds like a good 

option." Luckily for him, all the metal tools and machines were not as tasty for the rust monster as 

the vault of exotic metals and the rich, pure steel inside.

Erendriel bites her lip. "Yeah, I don't know anything about that. I only just very recently learned how 

to wear really any armor at all, and how to wear it without messing me up." She taps her chain shirt.

Mikilos grins. "I'm not an armored type. Or rather, my robes are enchanted with all the armor I 

typically use. I do forging myself, though tend towards blades, and there is a market, but it's not 

stable or steady. As the colder months set in, the merchant caravans will hole up and the guards who 

have been watching them will look towards upgrading their gear, so you'll get a little better business 

then."

Walery eyes Erendriel's chain shirt, and he nods. "I -do-, as it happens, have a machine for extruding 

wire. I've added a roller and a cutter, and I'm working on an autimated assembler for making chain link 

mail. I could definitely make armor like that cheaper than any of the armorers in the district," he 

confirms. He ohs as Mikilos shares his market experience, and nods gravely. "Well, it will be good if 

business turns up," he agrees.

Erendriel grins to Walery. "Awesome. Wish I had like, ran into you before I got this. I totally had to 

pay full market price." She sighs and shrugs. "Oh well. Do you do enchantments?" Then gesturing toward 

Mikilos. "I got the robe from his shop."

Mikilos frowns. "It's likely still close... I might be able to find it. I'm not sure this will work, 

but worth a shot." The mage takes a moment to focus, the wraps one hand around the amulet at his neck, 

the metal glowing softly for a moment as arcane power flows though it. The wizard stills his thoughts, 

then sends them out, seeking, looking for other thought waves. Two sharp skipes of mental energy, 

close, totally expected. Futher out, small thoughts of hunger, fear, sleep, primal needs. Grain... just 

a mouse. Seek further, ranging upward. Hide. Watch. A perfectly normal ninja in the rafters. Further. 

Safety, sleep, nest. A pigeon roosting on the roof. Lower then, seeking, exploring, hunger. Fear. 

Curiousity. Fear. Stone, close by, hunger, metal. Tunnel. Hide. Damp. A drain. 

 Mikilos half opens his eyes, and slowly makes his way across the shop to a simple drain spout in the 

floor. Peering a moment, he suddenly stomps, hard, next to the opening. A frantic scrabbeling can be 

heard inside, rapidly moving away.

Walery grins to Erendriel, and he says, "Well, now you know, at least. Though given you've gotten the 

mithral kind already, you probably won't be upgrading ever. But if it needs repairs, bring it by." He 

shakes his head about enchantments. "This city is crawling with enchanters. I could never complete. I 

thought I had a niche with the forging, though." He watches as Mikilos does the magic thing, and at the 

stomp and scribbling. "Oh! Well!" He thinks a bit more. "Maybe some sort of slime in the drains will 

keep them clear," he muses.

Erendriel nods to Walery, and smiles. "Yeah, I really doubt I'll be able to wear more than this ever, 

and still do what I do..." Turning to Mikilos. "Oh. Did you find something?"
Mikilos nods to Walery. "Lemon slices, maybe? Humanoids like the scent, but most animals don't. And a 

solid wooden plug, at least for a few days. I got the firm impression the drain was already tight, soon 

would be too big to get through. I'll let the Watch know about it. Rust monsters aren't exactly native 

to the city, so is likely someone already looking for it. A lost pet, or familiar, or something." He 

nods to Erendriel. "It was hiding in the drain, I doubt could have lured it out without sacrificing 

something, so easier to scare away."

Walery ahhs to Erendriel, nodding slowly. To Mikilos, he says, "Hang on." he'll go to a cabinet on the 

side and pull out his death ray. It looks a bit like a rifle, but with brass and gems and sparkly 

fittings and couplings. He aims it into the drain, loads it up with a glowing shell, and pulls the 

trigger. A flash of fire backblasts a few inches back, and the rest shoots into the drain. FIRE. That's 

Walery's other specialty. "That ought to clear out the drain," he says.

GAME: Walery casts Burning Hands. Caster Level: 6 DC: 15

Erendriel claps at the rush of the burning hands spell. "Oh that's great," she giggles, giving a little 

hop. "You need any more of that?"

Mikilos frowns mildly, but shrugs. "Burning sewer gook seldom ends with a good smell. Lemons are much 

prefered. But, should work, and if it was still anywhere close, I very much doubt will care to face 

that in any way."

Walery nods gravely, "If it survived, it will not be coming back, I think. But definitely lemons," he 

agrees. He smiles to Erendriel and says, "I think that if one shot didn't fix it's little red wagon, 

another wouldn't do much good." He'll put his death ray up and close that cabinet. "Thank you so much," 

he says to Mikilos. "I don't know what I would have done withhout your help."

Erendriel giggles. "Yes, Mikilos is very good at his magic." she nods, folding her arms. "It's a good 

thing that, um, he could fix so many things."

Mikilos smiles, and shrugs. "I like fixing things. I like making things. I like magic. So fixing things 

with magic is something I've done a fair bit and have become rather good at. Any case, I likely so head 

around to the alley, see if can spy anything of note, then go to the Watch. Doubtful, but might be some 

poor little kzhad girl missing her pet."

Walery tries to imagine a khazad child with the sort of pet that eats her parents home. "It'd have to 

have like a wooden cage or something," he muses, off track comletely now.

Erendriel hums, and folds her arms again. "Well, good luck getting that much stone wrapped around your 

stuff. That would be heavy. I hope you have magic you can use for that..."

Mikilos ponders a moment. "I think they use a hemp leash and leather harness, but honestly not sure. 

Anycase, I'd best be off. Fare well!"

Mikilos has disconnected.

Walery ohs to Erendriel, and he says, "Oh, it won't be one sheet of stone. That -would- be too hard. 

But a layer of bricks or stones would achieve the same effect, I think. And bricklaying is fairly 

straightforward." To Mikilos, he says, "That's .... fascinating." In a disturbing sort of way. He's 

completely forgotten the mithral flux, but the spellcasting more than covers that cost in any event.

Erendriel goes OOC.

-Later that day-

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=<* A02: Old Clunk's Junkyard *>-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

          If you're around Alexandria long enough, you would hear about Clunk's. Run by one of the 

oldest functional golems in Alexandria and his crew, some of whom are mechanical and some of whom are 

meat, Old Clunk's Junkyard resembles a cross between a tumbled-over mechanical morass from a gnomish 

birthday party and the spilled-over contents of a Kulthian closet, preserved from a bygone era. Scraps 

of metal, gears, canisters, and parts of every description appear tossed into piles between the metal-

and-broken-wood fences. 
  
          A few ramshackle buildings jut upwards from the piles, not unlike jagged teeth. Each has a 

purpose. Some are built closed and some are plain, open-sided cataloguing or welding sheds; if not for 

the painted murals on their sides, it might be hard to tell them from the junk piles. 

          To those who know what they're looking for, though, this place is less a junkyard than a 

treasure trove. Old Clunk finds everything an artificer or artifice-born could want, and has a keen eye 

for quality. The random piles are actually neatly classified by a complex system. Any artifice-ready 

part imaginable might just be somewhere in one of them. There's always someone around to help; if the 

crew is busy, there's always a few war golems around; the area would appear to be a congregation point. 

There's even an oil barrel and dipping cups around, as if their presence is welcomed.

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-- Contents --=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
 Pelka           Egalrin Artificer. SKREE!                             9s   47m
 Skribbles       A Goblin Cleric, green skin and orange hair.          6s   4h
 Walery          A pretty average-looking human. With a death ray.     0s   1h
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= Exits -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
Out (O)                   
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Skribbles

The Goblin standing in front of you rises to a proud 3 ft. in height. Her skin is a light shade of 

green in color, with hair of bright orange that sits in a top knot above her head before falling in a 

pony-tail down to the middle of her back. Bright orange-yellow eyes sit in pools of white in wide 

almond-shaped eyes that are angled slightly. Her pert nose ends in a blunt point on her face, a gold 

nosering on the right nostril. It sits above a wide-mouth with one fang sticking out over the left side 

of light blue painted lips. Large pointed ears extend out, with the tips extending above her head. 

There are several small loop earrings piercing the ears all the way down to the lobes. She is currently 

wearing the vestments announcing this young woman as a Priest of Reos. It is a worker's outfit of grey 

with an a blacksmith's apron of red on top. Various tools of the blacksmith's trade line the looks and 

pockets of her clothes and aprons, something for almost any occasion. Tall boots of black complete the 

outfit, scuffed slightly from someone who works hard in the forge.

Pelka
         Pelka is an Egalrin, an amalgamation of man and bird. His build is lean and graceful in his 

limbs but becomes more powerful in his shoulders and upper torso. His head features a predatory beak 

and eyes that face forward. Pelka's hands end in long slender talons while his feet are tipped with 

broader more sturdy claws. Feathered wings sprout from his upper back between his shoulders. These are 

normally folded but look to span perhaps 12 feet when spread. The feathers start dark brown but lighten 

in color towards the tips, until they are nearly white. The feathers above his eyes and those set 

behind his beak are stark white. On the very top of his head are a few red-tipped feathers almost like 

a mohawk.
         Pelka wears a chain shirt that protects his upper body while leaving his limbs and 

particularly his wings unencumbered. His legs are covered in leather breaches, slightly loose and held 

up with a compartment-lined utility belt, with similar bandolier-style belts criss-crossing his chest. 

Clunky metal boots cover his lower legs while leaving the bottoms and tips of his feet uncovered. Thin 

goggles cover his eyes, the strap dyed to match the color of his feathers.

Skribbles thinks for a moment and says, "Ya know what...I think it's just gonna be for ridin'. 

Sometimes you make a machine for fightin' and it just seems to want to fight you in the end." She 

shakes her head and sighs, "Just want something where I don't have to brush it a hundred times a 

day...or feed it...or watch it poop."


Pelka bobs his head with smaller motions as Skribbles explains. "Sounds like it is going to be one more 

wonder in the skies of Alexand--" he suddenly halts. He turns to look at Skribbles. "Wait, did you say 

it would be a flying creature?"

Walery comes into the jukyard, looking around. He's after something, a bit more mundane rather than 

artificery. He wanders into the conversation, throws a wave absently. and continues perusing.

Skribbles shakes her head, "Oh no...nononononono...this Gobbo stays her feet on the ground if she can 

help it." She points up to the sky and says, "If Gobbos were meant to be in the sky, we'd have wings." 

She points towards Pelka and smiles, "Like you got there." She looks at Walery and steps aside to let 

him peruse.

Pelka's feathers seem to droop slightly. But he picks up with only a bit less enthusiasm than before. 

"One more wonder on the -streets- of Alexandria," he finishes. Then he turns towards Walery, and raises 

a taloned hand to wave. "Afternoon."

Walery offers, "Good afternoon," to the both of them. "Did someone say something about flying? Only I 

have some very advanced plans for creating a flying adaptation to my armor. It's quite clever," he 

claims.

Skribbles points at the Elgar, "He's talking about flying, and I'm talking about building a mechanical 

riding-machine. He thought I was going to put it into the air, but then that would be up in the air and 

I don't go up there if I can help it." She shakes her head and stomps on the ground, "This is where 

Gobbos belong."

Pelka twitches his head with an avian jerk to look at Walery. "Flying adaptation for your armor...?" he 

blink-blinks. "Now that is an interesting idea. I don't even wear armor," he fans his wings 

subconcuously. "Too heavy for me, even after I tried to use mithral for the core materials..."

Walery nods about flying for his armor. "An airfoil and propulsion system would ... but oh, that's not 

why I'm here. I'm looking for bricks or stone to put around a strongroom. Do you have such a thing 

here?"

Skribbles points around and laughs, "This is Old Clunk's junkyard. If he ain't got it, then nobody 

does." She then looks around for a moment, as though trying to point Walery in the right direction 

before she sighs, "I dunno if he has it."

Pelka cackles. "I haven't found much stone here," he admits. "In fact the only time I can remember, it 

was because it was attached to some metal superstructure someone had dumped...er, I mean donated." He 

peers at Walery. "Why a stone strongbox? Why not metal?"

Walery nods to Skribbles, and says to Pelka, "Oh, it's got quite a lot of metal already. Rust monsters 

find it tasty, unfortunately, so I'm protecting my vault."

Skribbles nods her head, "Gotta watch out for those rust monsters." She holds up her basket and smiles 

widely, showing off her fangs. "Speaking of which, I gotta get this stuff back to the temple. Have a 

great day." She heads out, singing a song about staying on the ground that she just made up.

Pelka reaches down and pulls out...an empty tin can. He looks like he's about to toss it aside but then 

holds it at his own waist. He rotates it to angle it in one direction and then another. He 

subconciously leans his own body in response, like it is actually a rocket propelling him in different 

directions. "I've seen another artificer make a contraption that made him fly," Pelka explains. "It 

only lasted a few minutes, though." He mimes the can detaching and falling away. Then he blinks, coming 

back to the present.

Walery thinks about the dropaway rocket idea, and says, "You know. That's quite a clever idea, 

actually. Do you mind terriby if I use that? I think that will solve the problem of hot, spent rockets 

causing burns," he explains.

Pelka looks surprised. "Yes of course - it wasn't my idea anyway!" he seems amused at the thought. Then 

he tilts his head to one side. "Dropaway rockets for your armor? I suppose that's one approach. When 

you first mentioned flying, I was thinking of wings, possibly a propellor like some of the airships..."

Walery says, "Oh, there will be wings. For steering, at least," he explains. "But I'm looking for 

something a bit more dynamic, you know. My mentor, when I was a student at the Academy, had this idea 

for a group of airborne artificers who could supplement an army with mobile firepower. I'm working on 

that plan."

Pelka makes a cluckling noise. "Artificers in an army? That sounds like a..." he searches for the right 

word. Bizarre? Hysterical? Terrifying?" "...interesting." he finally settles on, "An interesting idea. 

I don't think I've heard of one before," he concludes. "Not in modern times, anyway."

Walery nods about an interesting idea. "I've tried to focus on things that are useful to soldiers in my 

own studies," he explains. "But there were no others, as you say, that were interested in 

participating." He'll wander off in search of bricks.

-Scene fades-


-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--<* A07: Anvilclang Smithy *>--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
          Down a quiet side alley, a large shield hangs in front of an unassuming shop. Formerly "Under 

Lock and Key," it appears the shop is under new management. The front door opens with the chime of a 

small silver bell on an array of locks, locking devices and keys. On the left hand side an assortment 

of metal shields of all types. On the right there is a set of display armor, and several historical 

smithing tools arranged thoughtfully on the wall. Straight across at the other end of the hardwood 

floor is a worn counter with a workbench behind it, though its polish is now influenced by soot. One 

can see the smithy just behind, a half-room over; and feel its heat. 
                                EXTRAS: +view                                 
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-- Contents --=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
 Erendriel       A short, fair ball of fire                            10s  10h
 Kaydin          A young man in his early twenties, with blonde hair c 4m   4h
 Munch           Dreadlocked golem with metal scales.                  6m   45m
 Walery          A pretty average-looking human. With a death ray.     0s   45m
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= Exits -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
Out (O)                   
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

 Erendriel
       
	Erendriel is a young half-Llyranesi woman. Characteristically fair skin almost glows in the 

right light, contrasting with her long hair. That hair is mostly black, except for tips which grow pale 

are a faint red at the tip, and tied in a simple ponytail behind her pointed ears. In front, her red-

fringed bangs are held back by delicately-engraved silver circlet.

	Definitely shorter than the average human, barely five feet tall, she was not endowed with size 

from her human side. Her build is also very slim, apart from hips keeping her from that dreaded 

'boyish' tag. Her eyes are a golden color, fiery bright, and her pink lips have a brightness of their 

own without any adornment. Her nose small but her mouth slightly large.

	Her clothing shows the rewards of time spent in danger: wide, round goggles strapped across her 

forehead and brown boots are her primary accessories. Fitted somewhat trimly on her body is a 

shimmering silk gown, covering her in a blazing red-orange sheen from neck down, leaving her calves 

exposed from the knee, and her arms from the elbow to her beige calfskin gloves. The gown is held in 

place simply by a leather belt with a large, silver buckle.

	Over the gown on her torso is a chain shirt made of fine links of mithral. On her back is often 

a red-dyed leather backpack. When her sleeves allow it, a scar in the shape of a snowflake is visible 

on the inside of her right upper arm.

Carrying:
MyLists


 Kaydin  

The man before you has wavy blonde hair, which seems to cover his blue eyes. He has fair skin and 

pointed ears which betrays his elven heritage. He is also tall, definatly leaning towards the more 

human part of his parentage. He wears leathers and furs and clothing hand stitched and made by 

inexperienced hands. He carries a pack with him at all times and as such is putting things into it.

 Munch    

 At first glance, one could be forgiven for mistaking Munch Terrormaw for some sort of lizard person, 

dressed in plates of armor. But it quickly becomes clear that the metal plates are embeded into the 

rubbery 'flesh', and mechanized gears and motors wirr beneath leathery skin. But while a 'normal' golem 

might be mostly gears and wires, Munch is more tubes and chemical bladders, pulsing with alchemic life. 

His head is draconic, with a deep vertical cleft in the lips, and a lack of apparent nostrils. Magicite 

eyes are pupilless, and glow faintly in most lights. From atop his head a large number of leathery 

dreadlock tubes hang down. Stubby little bat wings adorn his back, with delicate veins visible through 

the membranes. 

 He has little need for clothing, much of his body covered with mithril plates, and the 'skin' in 

between a durible material somewhere between leather and rubber. Though on closer inspection, it too is 

quite metallic, and covered with millions of tiny green scales. Munch often carries a pouch or bag, and 

is seldom seen without a massive battleaxe, usually upon his back, held in place by a number of small 

fleshy 'fingers'. 


 Walery    

     Mick Walery is an Acanian human standing 5'9", with an average build and average looks, and who 

is, overall, pretty average-looking. Medium-brown hair, dark eyes, clean-shaven, he could be anyone in 

a crowd. A closer look will see some wiry toughness in his build, though, and a mania in his eyes that 

speaks of ancient things man was not meant to know. He wears a conservative dark-green tunic under a 

brown waist-length coat, and a mail shirt over that. His coat collar overhangs the neck of the mail 

shirt, and seems to have a simple pin on the collar. His pants are heavy, and match the shade of the 

coat, with a heavy black leather belt that has several pouches, with an inch-thick cross strap over his 

left shoulder. His boots are brown leather, and are knee-high, with fancy stitching. His death ray, 

when idle, is slung across his chest from a strap around his neck and one shoulder. The death ray looks 

a bit like a thunderbelcher, but with jeweled silver fittings and a complex sight on top, with a 

polished wood stock. What looks like a rectangular box of some unknown gray material is worn like a 

backpack. It has several small yellow and red gems set in a row, and woven metal cables connect it to 

his death ray. He wears a thunderbelcher on its own strap over his shoulder.


Walery is in his shop, which is undergoing renovations. He has several pallets of stones laid on, who 

knows where he got those, and has mase up a bucket of mortar. He has also torn up the neat flooring 

around his vault and has added a layer of stones from the bedrock up, now, about halfway to the top. He 

his doing this all himself, and the brickwork is not the best.

Munch knocks softly on the door before entering. Well, sort of softly. Softly for a heavy metal 

barbarian. Not that he listens to music, he's literally made from metal that's heavy. Well, honestly 

the metal itself is pretty light, so far as metals go, there's just a lot of it. Anyway, knocking, 

entry. Hi.

	Kaydin was behind the golem. He is small so he is easy to overlook. He looks around at all the 

various people and then back to the golem and then back to the shop. "So we are here? Where is the 

refreshments?" He says as he looks around again. "I heard there was free beer."

Erendriel is back! She's visited before, and she's curious now. Seeing the stone, she giggles. "Oh 

gods, high again. All that stone. You think it's realy going to work?"

Walery looks up at the knock, and shouts out, "Come in, come in! Are you here with more stones?" he 

calls out, not looking up at first from his ameteur stonemasonry. At the mention of free beer, he says, 

"The beer is only if you've brought a barrel of stones." He couldn't get any at the shop, but putting a 

mission in at the Explorers' Guild has resulted in a large pile of useful stones being delivered 

throughout the day, and the barrel of beer still has a fair bit left. Hearing Erendriel, who he 

recognizes from the other day, he'll look up and smile to. "It should," he says. "They only eat metal, 

not stone, right?"

Munch blinks with a soft click. "....I eat anything. Everything. But I was told you need some heavy 

lifting done. The Guild sent me. No one mentioned beer."

	"I was kidding about the beer." Kaydin says as he reveals empty hands. "Guess I dont drink." 

Kaydin says as he pats his hands together and looks to the stones. "Why do you need so much stone? Are 

you making a statue?" He asks curiously as he watches everyone.

Erendriel smiles and nods to Walery. "I think so... I can't say totally for sure, but I think so. did 

you figure out if the magic fixed everything, or just part?"

Walery peers at Munch as he enters and shares his culinary habits. "Please don't eat my stones," he 

says. "I'm trying to protect my metal vault from rust monsters, you see." Which he hopes answers 

Kaydin, too. "It seems you both only got half the message," he says with a sigh. He peers at Erendriel, 

and he asks, "Which magic fixed what? They haven't been back, at least, so perhaps that part worked, 

yes," he agrees.

Munch buzzes softly. "Rust monsters. Yeah, those things can be trouble, but they squish pretty easy. 

Only ones I've seen around here were trained ore sniffers passing through. You got something special, 

or just being paranoid?"

	Kaydin looks to Walery and he looks at the stone. "So no statue. I would like a statue someday. 

My monther sculpted a tree ti make it look like me. It got cut down by a farmer." He says softly as he 

pokes at one of the barrels of stone.

Erendriel walks around the shop a bit, going toward the vault, and if it's open, she peeks inside "I 

mean all the stuff that was... messed upand fixed up a bit? It lookd like a problem."

Walery explains to Munch, "It seems a baby one wandered in here the other day. No idea where it came 

from. Ate through my vault walls, which were all metal, and made a snack of my stored metal. So I'm 

adding a stone layer outside the vault to keep them out in the future." He peers at Kaydin. "Sculpted a 

tree? he was a druid?" he wonders. The vault is open at the moment, and inside is the metal that was 

restored the other day. "Oh, yes," he replies to Erendriel, "the wizard was able to restore quite a lot 

of it. I'm quite grateful to him."

	"Aye. Me mom was a druid. Wild elf. She fell in love with a human man and when he left her, I 

was raised by her. I trained myself to be a ranger." Kaydin says as he watches Walery. "I had a friend 

teaching me the stuff I didnt know about being a ranger but he left. He was a dear friend." He says 

softly.

Munch considers a few moments, and shrugs. "Never seen a baby rust monster, but doesn't seem the sort 

of thing to pop up often. But if you wanna rebuild with stone, I'm game to help. Just killing time 

until figure out where to hunt next." he blinks with a click, and peers at Kaydin. "You a ranger type 

then? Happen to know where to find a chimera? Or a wyvern? Or a dragon you don't mind having killed?"

Erendriel tugs on her backpack straps. "That's really great that Mikilos was able to do that," she nods 

to Walery. Then turning to wave to Munch and Kaydin, whom she notices after her concern for the rust 

monster stuff. And at that, she remembers "Oh the jerky, going into a backpack pocket."

Walery nods slowly at Kaydin's in depth and suddenly personal exposition. "Uh, I see," he says. "It's 

good to have friends. There are lots in this sity." To Munch, he says, "They're about this big," he 

holds his hands 4 or 5 inches apart. "And they eat metal." That's as much as he knows. Erendril's 

comment about jerky, though, draws a "Huh?"

	"I used a spice mix from some peppers from the market. Makes it hot but not overpowering. If 

you want it hotter I can try and make it but I didnt want to ruin the taste with heat." Kaydin says to 

the woman. He then looks to Walery. "I gave her some jerky earlier."

Munch mehs. "Spices are good, but it's the core meat that really matters." So says the guy who eats 

pinecones on nature hikes.

Erendriel giggles, as she pulls out the jerky, and takes a bite from it. "Yeah, I was... distracted by 

something going on at the moment, but thank you Kaydin." She finally says. "I dont' know a lot about 

jerky but this tastes just fine."

Walery ohs as Kaydin explains about the jerky. "I see. He looks between all of them, and sighs a bit. 

"I don't guess any of you need armor made, do you? Only I make armor here, but no one needs it. I was 

suprised, I had thought there were fighters and paladins all through the city. when they start facing 

certain monsters, I'd expect them to see the value of plate armor. But it seems not." He sighs. 

"Slackers." He eyes the jerky, but gets back to his ameteur stonemasonry. He is wildly underqualified.

	Kaydin looks to Walery. "I could use some medium or light armor. I got a chain shirt and thats 

it." Kaydin says as he pats his chain shirt. "I can pay you in food and herbs? I am good at hunting and 

trekking into the forests." He says calmly.

Munch shrugs, and taps at his own mithril breastplate. Which happens to also act as his breastbone. 

"Weight. Potection is good, but when you have to lug it around all day, a few extra ounces mean a lot." 

Eyeing the stonework efforts a moment, he buzzes softly and steps up. "Here, firm the base before 

layering it. You have a level tool?" He's way more a breaker than a builder, but he does know a little 

about constrcution.

Erendriel giggles. "I'm not a Paladin. Oh boy I'm sooo not a paladin. Seriously. So you know, Armor 

isn't a lot for me. I did recently learn a little but... I Can't imagine I'll ever wear plate."

Walery does, in fact have a level, though he wasn't sure just what to do with it, so it's still in the 

toolbag. He hands it to Munch. To Kaydin, he says, "Well, I can certainly make that. I prefer gold as 

payment, though food and other durable goods have their uses. But if you have a chain shirt, what are 

you looking to upgrade to? A breastplate? I can make it of special materials, but those do cost a lot 

of gold." He nods to Erendriel, recalling their earlier conversation.

	"I have some gold. I work for the adventurer's guild. I also act as guide through the forest. I 

can pay you, just will be slow." Kaydin says as he nods at the man. He pulls out a pouch with a hundred 

gold pieces and offers it to Walery. "I could use a breastplate. Whatever you think is better. I just 

cant use heavy armor." He says calmly.

Munch has taken apart many houses, and then sat and been lectured by the people who had to put them 

back together again. He did actually learn something along the way. "Okay, you want this part to be 

flat, yeah? So this thing tells you if it actaully is flat, or just sorta close. Lay this part here on 

what you want to check, then if it's flat, these two parts will line up. See how they're a little off? 

Not quite flat. So need to nudge this part here..." the golem casually shifts a stone plate with one 

hand "...and check again. Now the two bits line up, so can be sure it's really flat." 
 For someone who's two skill are 'break stuff' and 'hurt people' he's actually pretty intelligent.

Erendriel finds someplace to lean, and looks to the others talking about armor and stuff. "Walery, do 

you know other kinds of metal work, or just armor?"

GAME: Walery rolls knowledge/engineering: (17)+13: 30

Walery eyes the gold, and says, "We-ell... I can make a kind of regular old breastplate for around 

that. But if you save up a bit more, I can make a much better one, one that a wizard could enchant for 

you. That'd really be your best use of your money. You'd want the enchantment on your armor sooner or 

later." He's sort of paying attention to Munch at the same time as he's explaining to Kaydin, but when 

Munch shows him how to actually level his stonework, he ohs! and nods quickly. "I see, I see. I think 

things will slide less if I make them more level," he explains. Most of the stonework is actually 

pretty good, just through a bit of Principles of Stonework and good luck. But the advice is gratefully 

received. To Erendriel, he nods, "Oh yes. I'm a skilled gunsmith as well, and I know quite a lot of 

artifice, as you may imagine. I made my own death ray, back in my lab at the Academy," he explains.

	"Guns are loud and when in a dispel magic circle, practically useless." Kaydin says softly as 

he pockets the pouch. He then looks to walery. "Still it wouldnt hurt to know how to use firearms. 

Someone may need me to use one someday." He says with a shrug.

Munch doesn't grasp the underlying theory of stonework, mostly in that he's never really stopped to 

consider it, but he does have a practical working understanding. And a fair bit of raw power to make 

stone do what he wants. Everything is more coperative once you've demonstrated you're willing to eat 

the troublemakers. "Guns are neat, but not my style. Pretty happy with my axe."

Erendriel rests her hands beind herself as she settles in against a wall now. "Oh that's good," she 

nods. "Maybe I'll need you to make me something else someday, since I'm never going to need plate..."

Walery nods to Kaydin with a grin, and says, "Oh, they're quite loud, yes." He likes that part. "And 

/almost everything/ is useless in an anti-magic field. That's the whole point of anti-magic fields. 

Monks are the only ones not badly hampered. And fighters and barbarians if they're early in their 

careers before they become walking armor-racks stacked with magical gewgaws. Still," he goes on, "at 

close range, firearms are quite useful. If they weren't so expensive, they'd change warfare, I'm sure 

of it." He takes a look at Munch, nods slowly, warily. "I think an axe suits you," he says after a 

moment. Erendriel gets a nod, and he says, "I'd be happy to make something for you, or to repair your 

armor if you need, of course. Mithral's tricky to work with, but I can do it."

Munch buzzes quietly at the comment of 'armor-rack of magical gewgaws'... but that's pretty accurate, 

so he doesn't say anything.

Erendriel stretches. "Well I think I'm going to find something to eat, you know? Good luck with the 

stone and the armor everyone..."

Walery waves farewell to Erendriel and peers quizically at Munch before he returns to his ameteur 

masonry project. "I'm gonna get back to work," he tells the others. "But feel free to come by any time. 

And if you need armor, or have friends who do, have them come see me. I can make anything cheaper than 

the armorers out in town."

-Scene fades-