Patch Job
Log Info
- Title: Patch Job
- Emitter: Thoth
- Place: Lower Markets
- Summary: Thoth gets a bit of a patch job from Aryia, whose expertise isn't Artifice at all. Irshya and Eztli join in on the chat, and some poor souls sign up for Aryia's classes.
The avian like War Golem has returned from a long trek into the mountains, and is looking ever the slightest bit more worse for wear. There's still a few ice crystals hanging from some of its metalic broken wings, due to how well its metal is retaining the cold.
It's still somewhat into the evening. Lights make its body glint, while the market is still open. There's something eerie abouts its broken presence. Almost like a broken scarecrow. It clicks its beak from time to time, shifting its head back to 'preen' at the metalic feathers, before looking out onto the streets again.
Thoth is just taking in the people while seated on the edge of the fountain. Watching them move. Each time it turns its head a bit, or moves its fingers, there's a metalic creak. Not so much 'rust' as just warped metal not quite fitting right anymore. There's a puddle forming below it as the mountain-borne ice continues to melt from it.
A short figure shoulders a door open to a shop open, one hand buckling up a verdant jacket to ward from the chill in the air as a pair of silver rimmed shades glint off her white haired head. The heavily scarred mul'neissa woman holds several bolts under her other arm as she kicks the door shut behind her just as the proprietor inside manages to say "See you next ti-"
Aryia thuds through the market at pace belying routine, half dodging folks that don't catch her short stature. Some sound out of the ordinary slows her gait to a crawl. A silver clad ear twitches. Broken metal? Forges are further down the road. She squints, and spies the little figure. This is a deviation.
She approaches, head tilting to the side.
There's a lot of movement. Thoth's optical sensors turn, taking in the position of the pale-on-grey as Aryia maanges to get out of the shop. And soon, she is slowing down. The 'strange bird' looking at her. Indeed, broken metal. Warped latices.
To someone such as herself, she'd recognize the signs of crushing damage easily. But the metals that had gone into this being might very well be unfamiliar to her. The entire construct of this War Golem isn't one that would be seen this day and age.
It tilts its head as she tilts hers, making 'eyecontact'. It click-clacks its beak for a moment, taking note of the bolts she is holding, before it turns its head down and preens at its torn-assunder broken wings.
Aryia stops a couple of paces away, the bolts of high quality textiles getting shoved into a satchel on her side. Vanishing into a space that seems too small for them. She tilts her head the other way, looking at the golem's wings, bent metal.
She scowls briefly, and rummages in her bag, and pulls out... a spanner? As well as a worn journal. A pen clicks, and she scribbles into it.
The page is presented. "You tried to fly, didn't you?"
There's a long blink from the War Golem. A rather unusual behavior, seeing as those constructs do not 'need to blink'. It watches the satchel being used, identifying it as some kind of bag of holding or handy haversack, before noting the scowl and scribble.
It reads the page.
It looks up, then motions for the pen. If given, it'll write first: "Are thee able to hear?"
Not the most efficient pattern of communication, but it's used to this. But more notably, the writ is... very different. It's Sylvan, but the way it writes the letters has a really 'old' style to it. Using really old words that may have been lost to time by now. <sylvan>
The Current meanders through the market, limping slightly and leaning upon her trident as a walking stick. A basket slung over her shoulder is full of goods, tins and jars and wrapped packages, all smelling of a variety of foods. She hums cheerfully as she goes along, pausing from time to time to chat with those that seek a moment of her time. Her holy symbol, a miniature trident hanging around her neck, flashing from time to time as she offers blessings of her God.
Irshya ambles up to Thoth from behind, peering curiously at the shape Golem is in. The pattern of the feathers is inspected at length, the Gobbo squinting, and leaning in close.
Aryia hands the pen over, still watching the little construct as they scribble down their response. She glances to the words. Nods once in answer, then does a double take. She squints at the lettering.
The journal and pen is taken back, as she scribbles a bit more. Presents in Sylvan. "I can hear. Can't talk. You're old. Looks like you fell." <Sylvan>
She pulls out more tools from the bag, prybars and shims, and a can of something half full. Another glance up, and she spies a familiar figure. The mute gives a small wave, but has her mind set on something at present.
Thoth is focused on Aryia, so at first, Irshya's presence does not get spotted until she is close enough to practically reach out and touch the feathers. With the War Golem seated on the fountain, it almost looks like a bad artist's complex metalic structure they left behind in order to get some reputation.
Except, Thoth moves.
"Understood. Thy art correct. This one is by biological standards, old." It confirms in Sylvan. "I..." Fell?
Falling... Falling... landing. Stones...
"We all fell, a long time ago." It decides to explain this. "Sundered from the skies." It then looks at the prybars and shims being taken out. "Art thou an Artificer? This one believes it recognizes some of these tools." <Sylvan>
It tilts its head, looking a bit closer, then draws its head back and looks down at Irshya and click-clacks its beak at the quiet unusual Gobbo.
"It would appear the Other was incorrect. There art walking sharks. Are you a 'Loan Shark'?" It inquires.
The Gobbo's ears perk up when addressed, and she giggles lightly. "No, I don't give out loans. Not as a business, anyways. You were sundered from the sky? It sounds painful, but it looks like you survived. Do you require aid?" Irshya begins looking more closely, circling the Golem. "An interesting colora..." She gasps and limps towards the Mul'Neissa. "Aryia! Hello!" She rocks back and forth on bare feet, and inspects the different implements the Mul has in hand.
GAME: Aryia rolls craft/artifice+2: (19)+8+2: 29
Aryia continues to pull out a few more tools, smaller hammers and pliers, laying them out beside her on the ground as she kneels in front of Thoth. She listens, a long ear twitching. Sylvan words and an intricate design.
She writes in the journal again, this time switching to Trade, upon hearing Irshya being addressed in it. "Sounds like you were Kulthian. I'm not an artificer. But I know a little bit to keep your joints from crunching into useless slag. Hold still."
As she hands the journal back for the small golem to read, Aryia gives a small smirk towards Irshya and gives a small wave, using the hand to ruffle the pool shark's hair before she cracks her knuckles and picks up her tools to see what she can do.
"This one is gathering money in order to get repaired." It answers the Gobbo. "But it is expensive to do so. This one has gotten some 'clock oil' applied to it. But it seems this is insufficient." It then silences and halts as Aryia pulls out more tools and lays them out in front of it.
"This one is of Kulthian make. Thy art correct." Thoth then expresses as she hands him the journal, and then gives it back again. The moment she picks up the tools, there's a moment of concern... before Thoth leans down to its legs. It /pries/ at a few latches on its legs, and then opens what looks like a 'cage' of metal around its legs, allowing Aryia better access.
"This one sees its Master's skills in you, when he was still a fledgling and created this one's original body."
The pool shark giggles at the hand ruffling her hair. "Are you intending on fixing ... er..." The Goblin peers at Thoth a moment, "I am called Irshya, though you may call me Irsh, or Shya, if it's easier. This is Aryia, if she's not introduced herself. What may we call you?"
Irshya cants her head slightly, "Your master, a fledgling? Was he an Egalrin? Oooh, is that why you look like a bird then? Neat!"
Her expression grows distant a moment, and she glances to Aryia. "Think a little mojo from on high might help? I know my healing spells help repair Golems, but." The Gobbo side-eyes Thoth a moment. "His damage might be too old?"
It was a late evening, and one where a small makari somehow didn't look completely out of place. Hopefully such a strange gathering would not arouse any suspicion amongst people. Eztli was wandering down one street, and this time, they were carrying three quarters of a comically large baguette, which they were chewing on as they went.
Eventually they came across the group, and the small makari waves. "Oh, hello again Thoth, and if it isn't Aryia, right? Is being a master tailor not enough for you these days?" She wonders."Oh, and hello Irshya, I don't think I've ever seen you outside of the tavern before, what's up?"
It's clear right away that Aryia is in no way an artificer by trade. But what she does have is a careful touch. A screwdriver placed under a plate, a gentle knock of a hammer, a dent pops out. A digit is held taut, and a hook carefully realigns a wire to its pulley between the joints. Getting better access with the cage open, a small hammer carefully bangs out dents. And despite what might seem like a bad idea, taut wires and pulled with her bare hands to get them aligned correctly.
This is going to take a while.
She scribbles into her journal. Shows it. "Your wings are fucked. You'll need an actual artificer to get in better working condition, but you should be able to do things without potentially seizing up. Might hold until you get some coin. I just know a little from someone close to me."
She looks up to Irshya. Nods at her own introduction, then gives a little shrug. A scribble onto a page. To Irshya. "Looks too old for healing. Doesn't hurt to try."
She turns back to repairs, pausing briefly as the small makari makes herself known. She shrugs noncommittally at the question, her giving a down nod for a hello as she picks up a spanner.
A master tailor? That must explain the delicate touch.
"This one is designated, 'Thoth'." The avian metalic creature answers the pool shark as she peers at it and introduces herself. "This one's master was not Egalrin." It then adds. "He giveth me these features, because the human configuration is inefficient. And because of this one's initial shape he created." It click-clacks its metalic beak.
"This one fears this one's damage is beyond the simpler touch of the divine or arcane." It then remarks. "This one has tried." Thoth adds to that, indicating it may have at least one of those two as its gifts.
Thoth then lifts its head as Eztli approaches. "Greetings, Other." It answers Eztli. It knows her name, but it has been referring to people other than itself as just... 'Other' so far. "This one has found a Land Shark." It points out, while motioning at Irshya.
As Aryia works, something changes though. There's... warmth in its eyes. Eztli has seen the cold and largely emotionless way it has regarded everything and everyone, as is expected from a War Golem. But as it watches Aryia work, even as she indicates she is not an Artificer, there's a warm appreciation. Almost like a 'smile' was being worn in its avian expression.
Seeing something that reminds it of a long lost and loved time.
"This one owes you." As it moves some of its finger-digits after she's worked on them. Less creaking. Able to actually move them better. "How does this Other wish to be repaid? This one does not have much money."
The Goblin looks sad at Aryia's answer regarding healing, but she smiles toothily. "Well you've done excellent work, even if you aren't an artificer." Her grin widens as she spots Eztli. "It might not seem like it, but I am often out and about. I'm a member in current standing in the Guild, even!" Irshya holds up the little basket under her arm. "See, shopping in the market. I'm just good at getting around quietly."
Turning to Thoth, she raises up her holy symbol. "If I am unable to heal your wounds, then I can at least offer a blessing. May your roads be sunny and straight."
Irshya's little symbol flashes brightly and then fades. "Not to speak for Aryia, but may I offer an idea for payment?"
Eztli shrugs, and gnaws a chunk off the slightly stale baguette for a moment. "Irshya is still a gobber, like Culix who you ran into the other day. Just a bit sharkier than most, maybe they do count, but I don't think they're some kind of mobster."
"I guess healing doesn't help with missing parts, and I don't really know if regeneration works on metal, really." The makari nods. "Payment within reason, of course, not that I'd expect Aryia to charge unreasonably."
Aryia bobs her head along as she works, her rolling a shoulder up to the side of her head to slide her sunglasses up and atop her head. Her head seemingly nods a touch harder at something else. Yes. Humans are indeed inefficient. Clearly as she uses her glowing gaze to peer up into the dark corners of the cage. The spanner delves into the depths, finding something within, and tightens. A knee stops clicking from movement.
She glances up to Thoth, picking up the expression. The mute simply nods, and keeps working. Payment? She pauses a moment, thinking. A hand reaches towards her journal open beside her.
Scribble. "Try and get out of the water with Irshya in it. You'd think other wise." A joke? "I don't care about money. I have little need for most things." So she looks to Irshya, expectantly with a raised brow.
She peers at Thoth's leg, then up further on their chassis before writing something in a sharp edged language on her journal, ripping the page out, and holding it up to Thoth. The scripture is circled, and it has pointing to it a question, "This your master?"
"This one thanks the Other for their blessing." Thoth remarks in appreciation when the Goblin gives her blessing. Sunny and straight roads. Such an odd blessing. Yet, there is appreciation. It would appear this generation of people show a lot of kindness to those who are worse off than themselves.
"Proceed." Thoth then adds, as Irshya offers to speak of payment. Though it does look to Eztli for a moment, and then grabs one of its own spokes and... bends it. There's a painful sound from it. It is clearly making a point however. As it touches one of its clawed fingers to the bend, and it suddenly opens at the tip. An arcane blue flame springs from it, and in that moment, the bend immediately repairs.
"Some things are easily repaired." It expresses. They might recognize the Repair Light Damage spell.
It then jolts a bit when Aryia fixes its knee, and it rolls its leg a bit. It suddenly functions a lot better. "This one thanks you." It chirps metallically. It then tilts its head at the suggestion of getting out of water with Irshya in it, after reading from the page.
"Then let this one serve this one on an upcoming need of the Other's choosing." It tries to impress on Aryia. "This was was created as a Servant. This one believes it can be of use." It tries to impress upon her.
At being shown the scripture, it nods its head. "That is Master's Symbol."
Irshya snorts at Aryia, shaking her head. "I do enjoy the baths, and admit it, you enjoy them too." She glances to Eztli, and then Thoth. "I am an ocean-going shark. Part shark, I suppose. My father was a Goblin, my mother is uh of questionable lineage and we'll leave it at that. I was born in the Sea of Ea, and when I left home, I followed a trading ship to Alexandria."
Looking back to Aryia, she shrugs. "You know how people often feel obligated when someone does them a service or favor, right? I offer an exchange. And it's an easy exchange indeed. For you, Aryia, a comfortable soak, and a sumptuous dinner with all the fixings, on the house. I get his debt in return." She looks then to Thoth.
"For your part, you need only come to the TarRaCe from time to time, have a seat, and order a drink. Maybe dinner, too? Good food and company, but easy on the coin purse. That way, you can pay as much as you think is a fair price for her work. We all win."
Her eyes flick back and forth. "Fair?"
There's a slight frown on the small makari as they take another bite of baguette, leaving them with only half of it left, half as tall as they were. "I can't imagine having the express purpose of being a servant like that." They sigh. "I know Thoth has a beak, but can they actually eat anything?" She wonders. "Or would trying to eat and drink cause problems internally? I know it's something some golems can do, but it requires specific parts, or something like that."
Aryia makes no effort to deny enjoying the baths. She just nods sharply at that, and keeps working. For her last bit of repair that she does, she picks up the can of oil, attaches a long spout to it, then lubricates the ankles through the open access hatch on both legs.
After that, she snaps the hatches shut. And begins putting her tools away and stuffing the written symbol down into her bag. Looks like she's done all she can do. The mute does pause however, listening to Irshya's request. She nods towards Eztli. "Golems don't fucking eat," a hand flits about quickly. What's strange about it is- despite the language barrier, the gist gets across it. "I already get your services cheap as shit. Sorry Irshya, bad deal." <Handspeech/Tongues>
She looks to Thoth, picks up her journal, and writes more into it. Shows it. "People owing me things is annoying. But I understand the need to fulfill your operation criteria." Seems like she's somewhat versed in Golem logic. "You write well. I need someone to make flyers. Copy thirty fliers for me soon, and we will call it even. I'll find you later."
Thoth listens to Irshya as she creates her offer, and when she is done, posits; "This one does not Eat or Drink. It does not wish to add waste to its inner workings." The War Golem points out to the Gobbo, while filing away her rather unusual lineage.
It watches the handspeech, and manages to get /the gist/ of it, even if it doesn't understand it.
When offered the journal again, it nods its head. "This one can do this task." It decides firmly. "Thank you. Please present the flier and the materials required, and this one will copy to the best of its capabilities."
The Gobbo raises an eyebrow slightly at the fingers signing. "Some do.", she replies, offering a shrug to the Mul'neissa. "I wish you well in finding further repairs, the city does have its share of artificers, who can add to the repairs Aryia has made."
Irshya offers a wave to the three, before beginning to limp off deeper into the market. "Be well!"
"Well, she does have a point. Some golems do eat things, or taste them, I know at least one golem that was considering having that added." Eztli shrugs as well. "That seems fair for some work, you're right. What'cha advertising then, Aryia?"
"Plenty of people doing work here, you manage to get out to the artificer's guild yet then, Thoth?"
Aryia gives Thoth a sharp thumbs up as she puts her tools away one at a time; the exchange is agreed upon for later. There's a tilt of the head at the mention of some Golems eating, but she shakes her head. That doesn't make any sense in her mind. She gives a parting wave to Irshya. Aryia will see her later for some luxuries later, as always.
She scribbles into the journal once more. "Will do. Need to make the flyer first."
She tilts her head at Eztli. The makari had a point. Forgot that was a potential addon. There's some more scribbling, a ghost of a smirk flitting across her face. "The Colosseum has a new official coach for their gladiators. Me. I'm advertising that I have openings."
"Thank you for thine insight." Thoth offers to Irshya, before she is limping off to the market. "Fare thee well." The ancient War Golem answers her, before turning to Eztli with its beak.
"This one has not yet gotten to the Artificer's guild. It ventured with a group on a mission to some mountains nearby instead - under the Explorer's Guild. This one hopes they will pay it for its expedition soon." It expresses.
"This age still performs combat for the biological masses' amusement?" It then asks of Aryia.
Eztli finishes waving in Irshya's direction before she takes off, and her attention is back on the group. "Oh, I didn't know they had gladiators there either." They admit. "Sounds interesting, as long as it's not too dangerous. Is that a good idea though? Are they going to be able to focus enough if you're their coach?" The small makari laughs. "Yeah, they still do I guess, you might be surprised how many things are similar still."
Aryia finishes putting her tools away. Picks her journal up again. Scribble. "Explorer's Guild pays well. You should be able to get your repairs soon."
The pen pauses. Writes more. White brows furrowing slightly. "Yes. But not to the death anymore. It is a test of skill, and can learn more about yourself through it. Others do it to appeal to the gods. Like Kor and Angoron."
She stares at Eztli. Writes more. "If they can't focus with me coaching then they have something to work on."
"Understood." Thoth remarks as Aryia scribbles once more, and it tilts its head. "Is this not what the Divine ones are for? Ensuring the contestants can fight to their heart's content?" It inquires, before it slowly rises up and closes the cage on its leg.
It then moves, flexing its body. Its wings still a mess, and there's clearly still parts of its body that need a more professional amount of care. But its limbs are far more flexible now. Able to move without abhorent screetching just from trying to adjust its body's postion.
"This one appreciates your work, Artificer." It chirps to Aryia, regardless of what title she might think she carries. "Perhaps, this one can pay the Other to coach this one. It has not been in a 'Scuff' yet. And it feels unprepared for Explorer's Guild missions." Before nodding at Eztli on the remark of things not changing that much.
"Hmm, yeah, I guess that makes sense." Eztli nods after a moment. "Well, I guess that would be something to work on. Make a class out of it even, 'what to do if your opponent is cute', or something like that."
The small makari finishes off the rest of their meal, and shrugs. "Everyone feels unprepared, I get it. At least some training will make it less overwhelming, but it's no replacement for actually doing the work."
Aryia drums her fingers on her journal. "The Divines do what they can. We have methods and healers to keep any fight from being fatal," her words read on the page. Carefully chosen words.
She looks over her handiwork, a light smirk on her visage in appreciation, even if its a title that doesn't fit her. She shakes her head. Scribbles some more. "Coaching is free. The thing you pay for is in sweat, wear and tear, and determination. You are free to come by as well Eztli."
She smiles.
Oh no.
"This one fears it cannot sweat. But it can pay in wear and tear and determination." Thoth answers Aryia as she expresses the cost of her coaching, while touching a hand to its chest and bowing its head ever so slightly.
"Please find me again here when you are ready with your pamphlets. I do not currently have a place of home or stay. If I am moved by the guards, I will seek to find contact with you at a later time." It expresses.
Then, lowering its hand, it nods to Eztli. "Yes." Is what it declares. "Master often said such words as thine as well."
"Yeah, at least things aren't too completely dangerous, there, from what I heard." Eztli chuckles. "Still, I guess you would have to expect broken bones and other things, if they're brining clerics in to practice."
"Sure, why not? I could use some more exercise, even under threat of bodily harm." She continues laughing. "How can I argue with free? Sounds like a good deal to me."
She does stop though, and sigh. "No place to stay? Alexandria is pretty strict about vagrancy. Hopefully that job of yours pays out soon, so you can at least pay for an inn room or something like that."
Aryia gives another thumbs up. Good. Another being to grind into the sands of the pit. "I will find you," the next words on the journal say. "What I teach should give you __some__ reassurance in a fight, as well as keeping a calm in stressful situations."
She nods to Eztli. Scribbles more. "Broken bones and some cuts, but the weapons brought in are usually enchanted to only bruise." There's a pause. "Bodily harm is a given, no matter how 'cute' the opponent is."
The mute tilts her head to the side at Eztli, her rising to her feet and donning her satchel once more. More writing. Show the pages. "Temple of Althea has some beds on occasion in exchange for helping out around their temple. Or can just find an alley and shut down. Don't try that in Goblintown or the Warehouse district. Regardless. I will find you."
She pulls her shades down.
-End Scene-