Ten Brass Rings

Log Info

• Title: Ten Brass Rings

• Emitter: Warrick

• Characters: Warrick, Schara

• Place: Lower Trades, Slatesteel Services

Lower Trades, Slatesteel Services, Late Afternoon

A deep blue, cloudless sky basks the streets of the Trades, the rhythmic pinging of smithing and sawing of woodworks are in high gear, the heat of the day having passed. Within a open faced workshop, a door to the forge flies open, a Khzad woman holding a box of brass rings. "Order's change, lad. They wanted ten boxes of bronze rings, fookin' idiots, not ten bronze rings."

A middle aged human in a tank top sighs, him throwing another ring into a pile after polishing one. "... really? They didn't send the order in Khaz or Kulth?"

"No," Slatesteel huffs, dropping the box on the workbench next to Warrick. "Look, lets jus' get this box done and send it off. Then tell 'em ta fookin' send in a new order."

"How did this get messed up?"

"Schara tends ta be pretty particular about details, she'd have caught it before we started ta work on it," she grunts, shaking her head. "Oh well. Lets get ta polishin'."

It had been not too long since Schara had been at the smithy, a few days at most. There hadn't been a specific time frame given for the leave of absence which the artificer had given, even if the artificer had very much wished she could do something about it.

There was no expectation of her showing up to the smithy that day either.

"It is not a customer, it is Schara entering the building." They state before entering, the bronze clad artificer stepping slowly inside. "I am sorry for being gone for some time miss Slatesteel, but I should be ready to help again." They apologize, before finding warrick, and giving them a wave as well. "Oh, hello Warrick, you're helping out today? Thank you, I am sure miss Slatesteel appreciates your help." They greet.

Warrick is about to retort to Slatesteel, a light smile on his lips, but Slatesteel shushes him as she catches that someone was stepping in. "Heya! Wha-"

She stops, and both turn to blink owlishly at the clad figure.

"Schara..." "Ey, Schara!"

Slatesteel takes her smithing gloves off and tosses them onto the workbench. "Naw, I know how adventuring work goes. You just come here when ya need ta, lass."

Warrick gives a wave with a rag before going back to cleaning. "I help out from time to time, you know this. Have you..." he squints a little. "When did you get back?"

"How ya doin' tho? Come in, lemme get ya somethin' ta drink if ya want, yeah?" Slatesteel adds.

"It is good to see you, Warrick, I know you do, but it is surprising still in some ways." The artificer answers with a nod. "Yes, but I know that I am helpful here, so I feel bad not being available as much as I would like to be."

"It has been around thirty five hours since I got back here, I am sorry for not telling you Warrick."

"I am doing well enough to work, miss Slatesteel." She answers with all the lying expertise that the artificer was known for. She certainly sounded tired, and her movements were a bit sluggish. "Thank you for offering a drink, but you don't need to interrupt your work for that, it looks like you are both busy."

Warrick chuckles. "I mean, you saw me working here numerous times," he raises a brow. "Don't feel bad, you had important business."

Slatesteel nods. "Aye. Nails and screws and rings can wait."

They both stare at her. "Thirty five hours?" they gawk. Slatesteel recovers faster. "Lass, ya can take a little longer fo' yaself, ya kno'? Me an' Rick here know full well 'bout tha'."

Warrick sighs. Puts his things down. And gets out of his chair. "Schara. I appreciate your tenacity, but. Bullshit," he calls her out and stepping around the workbench. "If its that work you were talking about that you're coming back from, you're overdoing it."

Slatesteel looks between the two of them and chuffs. "Aight, I'm gettin' some drinks," she declares, stepping back into her forge.

"Yes, it was important, but it's done for the moment, at least." The artificer notes, taking a glance at some of the work going on around the area. Schara freezes on the spot, and the elf hangs their head. "No, it's alright, I came here to work and focus on other things, and I didn't want to come here and stop you from doing that." She attempts to protest. "What about the orders you were working on? "

Warrick glances to the door as it shuts before he turns to watch Schara freeze up. He studies her. Closes his eyes. And lets out a long sigh. "Alright," he relents, stepping forth to reach out and put a hand on her shoulder. "But take it easy, okay? I'm glad to see you're back." He lightly smiles before pulling back and sitting down.

Slatesteel comes out, a fistful of bottles in each hand. "Just a mucked up order. They wanted ten brass rings. Double checked verbally. Confirmed it. Made 'em. Forms said ten brass on the front, but said boxes on an invoice. So I'm jus' gonna finish polishing this box of 'em off and request them ta order nine more boxes." Expertly, she pops the cork off the ales with the corner of a work bench, and passes one around. And hands a polish rag to Schara. "Here."

"Thank you for letting me do something, and for understanding." The artificer responds, reaching to place and arm on warrick's shoulder, minding the various hook on the end of it."

"I am surprised you are not dismissing the order miss Slatesteel, so they do not attempt to pass off potentially malicious intent with an error that never should have happened given your thoroughness." Schara considers, as she takes the polish rag and work on wrapping it around the hooks until it was functional. "You know the pocket I keep straws in I am assuming Warrick? I do not want to drink enough to inhibit my work by any means, but a single drink would be good."

Warrick's light smile settles into a softer one at as the prosthetic arm settles on his shoulder. "Of course."

But now he was sitting in a chair, taking the drink and knocking back a swig. Slatesteel chuckles. "Yeah, I will admit I goofed that. But my gut tells me its fo' chainmail, just due to the nature of it. So I'll give 'em a little and they'll be right appreciative," she grins, sucking down half a bottle and getting to work.

Warrick pauses his polishing, him peering over and nodding. "Yeah. I got you." He leans across, rifling around in the pocket and pulling out a straw. He plunks it into the drink with no fanfare.

"Gonna be real, have what ya need, hard ta fuck up polishing this stuff," Slatesteel snorts.

"Thank you, Warrick." The artificer says, popping open the side of their helmet to stick the straw through, and take a long sip. "Ah, I wasn't sure if it was a mistake on your part or not, I must admit that I would tend to assume that it is not a mistake on your end." Schara notes as she begins polishing one of the rings, gripping it in the clamp underneath their right arm and working. She does pause, and give the khazad a shake of her head. "No, miss Slatesteel, you said this is for chainmail, I would never put someone's life at risk over my own feelings if I can help it." She answers simply. "And with a ductile metal like bronze, I would not wish to introduce a point of failure due to a mistake that could be avoided on my part, leading to someone's armor not functioning properly, or failing to deflect something it should have been capable of."

Slatesteel shrugs with one hand as the other was busy with polishing off her drink. "Eh, if I muck it I muck it. But I sure as hell will admit I mucked it." She stops though to look at Schara with a long gaze. Reading into the artificer before a respect draws across her face. "I appreciate ya seriousness, for real. But- if it was used for /actual/ armor, they sure as hell ain't using brass, lass," she laughs easily. "It's prolly fo' chainmail weave on some crates o' decoration on walls."

Warrick watches the exchange passively before putting his drink down and resuming polishing. "Paloumu liked brass infill on his weapons."

"Yeah, an' Paloumu got his shit dinged up all the time, dinnae?" the dwarf laughs.

"Oh, brass, right, that would make sense." The artificer nods after a pause. "I am sorry, I should have been able to tell properly."

Schara sighs, and sets the first ring aside, and picks up another. "I don't want to do a bad job regardless, as it would not feel right and could reflect badly. I guess that would get damaged easily, you are right."

"Don't beat yaself up too much ova it, I've been doin' thi' since I was a little girl 'bout two centuries 'go," Slatesteel thumbs her nose. "And you've been doin' this, what, few months? Ya pickin' it up real good, lass. I appreciate ya concern fo' reputation."

Warrick tosses another ring into the finished box as he picks another up, him taking a moment to look at the artificer. Almost like he was trying to see past the helmet. He sits more upright, glances to his dwarvish friend, then back to the elf. "Hey Schara. Uh. Cinny's making dinner with Lomi tonight. I.. heh, honestly have no idea how that's going to turn out, but I invited Dinath here to come over. Do you want to come over for dinner?"

Slatesteel gives an approving grunt as she cracks open another ale.

"It has been several months, and I appreciate everything I have been able to learn, and your payment is always fair, in spite of my sporadic availability." The artificer notes, with another sigh. "I am grateful for the opportunity, and wish to do my best to live up to that."

The artificer looks back at Warrick, and tilts her head to one side. "Oh, well, it will likely be good, given the fact that they are serving it to more people than each other I expect." Schara answers after a pause. "If there is enough food for everyone, then I wouldn't mind coming over for dinner, and would probably welcome it. Just ask them to make sure it is okay if I join?"

"Like I said lass, I've done adventurin' work before. I know how random havin' ta go do stuff can be," Slatesteel waves it off. "You've made my business helluva lot more efficient on the back end, tha's fo' sure."

She polishes a ring, looking up into a lantern to check the polish. Her eyes gain a sly glimmer. "... I also got in contact with my mithral liaison," she hums. "So. Whenever you wanna work wit' some..."

Warrick smiles. "Oh. It's a goblin dish, apparently. There's is going to be leftovers upon leftovers." He looks down at his drink. "Regardless if there wasn't enough food for everyone, everyone wouldn't mind having you over."

He gives a light nod. "I'll ask them. But they'll say yes, heh, and use it as an excuse to try more dishes."

Slate steel takes another drink, and raises a brow at Warrick, but doesn't say anything.

"I have apologized and thanked enough in a short time, I am sure that it is known at this point and does not need to be repeated." Schara nods once, flipping the ring she had over and polishing the other side. There's a pause, and Schara stands up a bit straighter, before she sighs. "Please do not take my current disposition for a lack of enthusiasm miss Slatesteel, but that sounds like an excellent idea when I have the time and energy to commit to trying out some techniques and eventual ideas with that." The artificer answers.

"It sounds nice Warrick, I am glad that my presence is not minded. I will join you, but I will need to go home and prepare first, I think." She answers Warrick.

Now that was the reaction that Slatesteel was looking for. "I'll tell 'em ta get some set aside for ya when you get the energy for it," she grins. "Lookin' forward ta whatever yer gonna be making with all that."

Warrick gives a soft chuckle, shaking his head. "Not minded? I'd like to think you're enjoyable to be around. I know Cinny does, she can fire off a thousand questions and get them all answered. But yeah. We'll start dinner at sunset. We look forward to having you there."

Yet another clank rings out as another polished circle lands into the pile. "Ten bloody boxes..." Slatesteel grumbles.

-End Scene-