[The Craft Gallery] It's Only Mud (Torc)

[Phoenix]

The Craftsmen's Gallery was a busy, bustling place. Footsteps echoed constantly up and down the corridors. The whirring of looms, the clack of the wool cards, the soft murmur of the workers all faded into white noise after a while. There was a large, central common room at the end of the long, dimly lit corridor (the craftsmen worked in one of the inner tunnels, the stones of their hallways lacking the caress of natural sunlight). Many rooms and small offshoot alcoves branched from not only the corridor, but the common room it's self. And all, like everything in Wind Reach, had their purpose. The common room served the purpose that it's name suggested. Here, more often than not, most of the craftsmen gathered. Lining the walls were floor-to-ceiling shelves alternating between almost identical bookcases. Books, notes, equipment, half finished pieces of work, and fine masterpieces lined these shelves, were stuffed to brimming in these cases. This room was much better lit, sconces assuming most of the open wall space, candle's and lanterns peeking out from tiny shelf-like alcoves. Warm, thick rugs hugged the stone floor from wall to wall, adequately keeping the cold away. Chairs and small sofa's dotted the space, but the majority of the square footage was taken up by a giant table, smack dab in the middle of the room. With a bench on either side, two chairs at either end, this was where the craftsmen met to discuss, argue and socialize. Cleaned off for meetings, the table was usually just as cluttered as the shelves. It was messy, but everything had it's place. The only thing that was devoid of the warmth from the common room was a lonely alcove, tucked away and forgotten behind one of the larger bookshelves. Only, it wasn't an alcove. Completely dark, one would have to step into the space, hands in front to ward off face-on-stone impacts, blindly feeling around. What appeared to be an alcoved was actually a narrow tunnel, leading to a long-forgotten room. One that only when sought specifically, was discovered. Pacing carefully through the darkness, a few dozen hesitant steps lead the seeker to the secret room. With a sense of impending claustrophobic descending upon those who traveled through the crevasse-entrance, it was relieved only when stepping into the room itself; though it was usually just as dark as the hall. It was now, however, occupied. Sconces identical to those in the common room were scattered over the circular wall. The room was an elegant oval, and larger than one would have expected. Dark, luscious furs covered the floors, leaving no stone bare to chill the feet. Natural benches formed here and there in the walls were covered with the same furs as the floor. Two large, squishy armchairs and a sofa were gathered around one end of the room, while the other end was partitioned off from view by a dark crimson, somewhat filmy curtain. The chairs and the sofa were gathered around a fireplace, possible only because of a rare fault in that section of the wall, allowing a place for the smoke to escape into the outside air. A fire was burning merrily there, carefully tended by the woman who crouched before the stones. An acolyte to be exact, and she carefully tending a bot that simmered slowly over the fire. Waiting.

[Torc Ironwood]

Torc entered the Common Room of the Craftsmen’s Gallery, and his eyes swept over the grand chaos of the craftsmen. In a way, the common room felt like he was entering Market Street in Zeltiva. It was a place of movement and wares. People discussing thoughts and ideas over items, while others shuffled the great many items around to be replace by others. Torc looked at the lanterns and candles and realized that the magecrafted light globes of the University would be far better suited to this place. He had some of that information and he wondered if he shouldn’t bring it up to the Valinator. However, he wasn’t here to discuss lighting options or a piece of work. He was here to learn something about himself and the world. He had come on his day off to be tested for Reimancy and his skill at it. Torc had thought long and hard over his decision to go into the reimancy. Like all magic, reimancy was dangerous, but the dangers of it were often much greater then so of the others. It seemed that the more one changed the world, the more they risked personally. However, that could be said for anything. Torc subconsciously rubbed the back of his neck over Cheva’s mark. Cheva’s, Goddess of Love, had given him a mark and now he was marked with power. He knew that if he had to do it over again he wouldn’t choose differently. However, it brought danger into his life; it brought the gaze of the Gods and Goddesses. He was expected to do something, and they waited as the board piece choose it next move. Though he had been mark by Cheva, he often felt abandoned by the Twins, Kelwyn. He had always given his praise and thanks to them. He had never asked for their help, nor cursed them, and yet it was the Goddess of Love that had chosen him. Feelings of confusion, of hurt, of love always came with that thought. Now he gave thanks to Cheva, he devoted himself to the teachings of love and giving those teachings to others. Yet, he wondered… Did the Twins miss his thanks? Did they feel the lost of his heart? Or did they decide that he was no longer lost? What happens when the Twins have given enough aid to their lost cause? Had Torc finally become a man that could stand up and seek his own path? It felt lonely, this mantle of adulthood, as a child Torc had always felt the Twins by his side. He had felt like they were his mother and father. He had felt Kel touch his shoulder with loving embrace. He had felt Wyn guide his hammer strokes to help others, and now… he felt Cheva’s embrace. It was a simple hug of warmth, yet in that embrace he felt like he had a wife, and as such he went out of his way to do things for her. That was love, always thinking about the other person when one got a chance, and Torc realized that in any relationship, you had to both work at it. So Torc made sure to keep winning Cheva’s love every day. He spoke to children giving them love and advice on how to see each other. He did his best to provide guidance to those couples that sought him out. Every step he took was for them, for Cheva and himself. And yet, he missed Kelwyn, where were the twins? He gave them thanks for his life up to meeting Cheva, and yet… when would he ever feel them again. Torc went over to the lonely alcove. He had questioned a few Inarta to find this place. As he stepped into the small tunnel his hand went to the side wall. The wall provided feeling and direction in the darkness. Torc felt strange walking on a path with no light, and for the first time in many days he realized how he missed knowing that there were tons of rocks above his head. The feeling had began to sink into him since he entered Wind Reach. He saw many people seeking out the open sky, and yet most of the time he sought that cool sheltered rooms. He had never felt so… secure. The mountain gave a heavy presence, like a giant weight upon his shoulders, and yet that weight fell about him like a cloak. The mountain was a cocoon of strength and unbreakable will, and Torc choose to keep it on as long as he could. The rock was smooth and yet at times his hands fell across jagged layered stone. He sense became attuned to the dark tunnel as he shuffled forward. His breath echoed off the walls, and skin felt the darkness and the stone wall. He tasted the dry air and smallest taste of minerals. Torc began to see light pouring through a small crack in the wall. The crack was just wide enough for him to squeeze himself through. He felt his clothes snag on the rock as he began to wiggle between the two walls. At times his massive chest began to squeeze close as he pressed himself forward. However, Torc remained claim and steady himself. He pressed all the air out of his lungs and then thrust himself forward feeling the stone scrap his skin. He was out in the room feeling the air about him, and he took in the elegant oval room and the acolyte tending the fire. Softly he went over to the fire and sat down near it. The warmth of the fire began to soak into Torc skin and for a moment he sat gathering the courage to ask the acolyte what he had come here for. As he kept his focus on the fire, he spoke softly to her. “I am Torc, I have asked permission of the Valanitor to be tested in Reimancy. I understand that if I pass…” Torc shivered in spite of the warmth of the fire. The University had no illusions of what it took to learn reimancy. The breaking open of one’s soul and thrusting in Res so that the person could understand how to make it, yet that accounts of students made it sound like a tearing of your being. It sounded close to rape, at least the way the University did it. The first lesson was always the same for every student. Shove res into their souls and hope they didn’t die or go mad in the process.

[Phoenix]

The woman continued to kneel by the fire as the man stepped from the shadows of the tunnel, gazes around and awkwardly took a seat behind her. Keeping her eyes from his face, Meloria moved from the fire as the man sat, stepping behind him to fiddle with things upon one of the many shelves, the clink and scrape of ceramics floating to where Torc sat. The air held the heavy silence that stretched for many minutes after Torc spoke up, the acolyte taking her time to respond. When she did speak, it sounded as if every word was carefully tested and thought out before rolling off her tongue. The effect was a slow, measured response with only the slightest hint of a sultry drawl. "Torc...Toe-ark...To.Rk." Meloria rolled his name around her tongue, trying out the syllables and changing around the emphasis'. Moving as she spoke, a delicate clay cup appeared over Torc's shoulder. The motion was insistent, and he would have no choice but to take the cup before Meloria settled herself down into the other chair. Poised delicately on the edge, the acolyte sipped at the tea she prepared, pausing every once and a while as she tested out another version of Torc's name. This went on for a few minutes, until there was only dregs left in her tea. Without another sounds, Meloria stood and took Torc's hand in her own, pulling him to his feet. A gesture to follow and the woman stepped towards the part of the room that was curtained off from view. It was then that she parted the drapes, and revealed a tub set into the stone floor. Not a normal tub, mind you, as this one was filled with a deep, chocolate-y colored mud. Other than the mud bath, this end of the room was identical to the other end that we just vacated. Candles occupied small alcoves in the wall, a cheery fire burning at the foot of the tub. Again, Meloria took a delicate perch on the edge of the chair in the corner, motioning at Torc and then the bath. "Undress. Begin."

[Torc Ironwood]

Torc sat wondering if had hadn't used the Inarta language clearly. Torc had been daily doing his best to improve his speech and tongue over the bird like sounds that the Inarta used. Still no matter how well Torc practice he had the sense that he would forever be a rumbling mountain trying to speak to the eagles. The fire warmed his clothes and gave Torc a deep feeling of satisfaction, Torc wished that he could be warm all over, for the fire toasted his front half but backside could only feel the cold presence of the stone. Was this a metaphor? Torc wondered. After all he had come here to learn reimancy the art of creating the four elements, and perhaps the fire meant something more then just a place to be warm. Then again, perhaps the air he was breathing meant more then just to keep him alive. Torc knew of the idea that if one searched meaning in everything, then one was likely to find it even if there was none. Still, Torc had never dreamed that he would have spoken to Gods and Goddesses, so anything was possible where the young blacksmith was concerned.

As the acolyte spoke his name, he wondered why she seemed to caress the syllables. For a moment he let his mind wondered, he began staring into the fire thinking of his days back at the temple of Kelwyn. Magic and Religion were often topics of conversation, but none of them really effected his day life. Sure he would go to daily mass, or think about some kind of magecrafting item for the orphanage to due during the winter, but most of the time it was thoughts on marriage and iron. Two simple ideas and desires, yet as the river of time flowed over Torc's life, he realized that neither was necessary in the cards. He had started with a dream of Mola and him in a cabin of his own making, and then rushed onto a dream of magic and Gods and Goddesses, yet neither seemed to fully satisfied him. Slowly he took the offered cup of tea and began to slowly slip and drink it. Torc allowed the acolyte her time to think and ponder over the request he had given. Finishing the tea as she continued to voice his name, it was a surprise when she physically touched him and tugged him towards another part of the room.

Torc arched one of his eyebrows as he saw the mud bath, and as she gave him the order to undress Torc realized that he was suppose to get into the tub. He hadn't really known what to expect… but a mud bath wasn't really what he expected. Not wanting to seem like nakedness would put him off the task of learning reimancy, took the bottom of his shirt and began to lift it up over his head. He felt the cool air of the cave upon his belly and the skin contracted and expanded as Torc forced air from his lungs. As the chest moved over his upper chest he felt the skin tighten in the cool air making every muscle taut. As Torc head popped from his shirt, he felt the shirt slide down his arms, the cloth briefly clinging to his arms. Torc took the time to fold the shirt, afterall it was a good work shirt and deserved to be treated right. Torc pulled off his boots and socks seeing the iron dust form in a cloud, no matter how hard Torc tried boots and sock remained the one thing that he could never truly clean. Torcs toes curled on the cold stone floor and he felt the pause that came with what was left.

Torc had gone to the baths in Wind Reach before and he certainly been naked in front of women, but all the old thoughts of such things still came to him. So as he fiddled with his drawstring on his pants, he realized that the only embarrassed person in the room was him. So slowly Torc pushed the thought out of his mind and began to push the cloth pants downward. The cloth pant hung about his buttocks and draped across the front of him. For a moment Torc bent over feeling his buttocks swell from the bending of his muscles, as he pulled his pants down below his knees. For a moment he hestaited before standing upright once again, he felt his heart beating in his chest, worried over judgement about his body, but Torc kept his face calm as his thought raced. Slowly Torc reached down feeling himself cling to the left thigh. He used his elbow to dislodge himself, while he brought back up his pants. He began to fold them and place them with the rest of clothes. Torc forced himself to move slowly to the mud bath, muscles rippled across his body and his nakedness moved to the edge of the pool. He felt the movement of himself going back and forth and tried to keep his eyes locked on the acolyte. He sat down at the edge of the pool, lowering his feet and then shins into the mud. Torc had thought the mud would be cool to the touch, instead it was thick and warm as it caressed itself around his skin. Torc picked himself up by the arms bracing against the side of the bath and lowered himself into it. As his chin touched the bare edge of the top of the mud he realized that the bath had a deeper bottom then he was tall. Quickly, Torc's hand raised and grapped the edge of the pool as his legs began to kick against the thick mud. Strangely it felt like the mud was trying to drag him deeper into it, as Torc sat holding himself against the edge and kicking to keep his head above the mud.

"What now?" Torc asked as he kicked and struggled against the mud.

[Phoenix]

"You sit." Her voice was low and rippled like velvet as she responded to the question posed, a sultry sound that perfectly matched the hungry look in her eyes. Meloria had watched as Torc undressed, eyebrows arching in shock and appreciation at the man's sheer beauty. He seemed to tease her as he slowly pulled the shirt over his head, bunching this set of muscles while prettily flexing the other. It took all of the woman's restraint to stay where she was, relaxed and watching with her hands clasped behind her back. There was a look of honest regret in her eyes as Torc disappeared beneath the mud. With the physical distraction gone, Meloria felt the building sexual tension dissipate. Torc was watching her as he soaked, but still she took the time to carefully uncross her legs and recross them in the other direction. Leaning forward with her arms crossed on her knees, hands dangling with her wrists held loosely, she watched as Torc floated in his confusion. She had to give it time. They had to wait. The mud was warm and thick, but void of any rocks or debris that would be found in natural mud; though it sounded like an oxymoron, this was clean mud. Special mud. Every once and a while, an air pocket would fight it's way to the surface, bubble sluggishly until the mud could stretch no further and burst with a faint, thick sounding pop. The stone surrounding the tub was smooth and cool, a start contrast to the thick bath. Though he wouldn't know why, Torc would start to focus on little details such as this, unable to clearly remember just why he was here. The cool stone was what mattered; How did it stay so cool? The consistency of the mud was intriguing. How much water did they add? How was it so thick without being solid? The acolyte watched as each new symptom appeared; first his eyes darted here and there, his hands touching everything, his lips moving silently as he posed these seemingly important questions to himself. But still she made no move. Torc began to figdet and at one point tried to rise from the pool, only to find that he hadn't the strength to lift himself. When he didn't protest or seem startled by this, Maloria knew they were getting close. It wasn't until Torc laid his head back on the rim of the tub and closed his eyes with a sigh did the woman stand. She moved quickly to his side, sliding onto the stone ledge until she was positioned directly behind Torc's head, which she lifted and placed in her lap, all the while careful that she didn't touch the mud within the bath. Though Torc didn't open his eyes, the rapid movement beneath his lids was a telling sign of his conciousness. "What you drank was an herbal cocktail to help loosen your soul from your body. You need to be able to experience things that your physical form would otherwise prohibit. You need to have a full range of physical and mental motion that the human form does not possess." With her fingers trailing gently through Torcs hair, the alcolytes eyes never left his face. It was a shame that he was incapable of responding when the beautiful woman finally decided to string more than a few syllables together. "This mud is blessed by Semen, Goddess of the Earth. You must understand how privileged you are to be able to experience what awaits you. It is time." It seemed like Meloria's speech was at an end as she slipped from beneath Torc's head, laying it back on the stone as she stood. "You will breath in the mud as if it were air. Do not fret." A long fingered hand decended upon his shoulder, ready to exert the gentle pressure that would send the man beneath the mud. "You will experience a vision of sorts in which you will have a clear task you must complete. At the end of a task there will be a puzzle or a challenge. You must complete all of this before you will see me again. Every experience is different as every person is different." She paused, allowing the vacant, yet aware, form of Torc to absorb the information. "Do well, Torc. I wish to see you again." With a push, Meloria sent Torc beneath the mud, standing by the side until the last bit of air burbled to the surface. With a sigh and a slow roll of her shoulders, the woman slipped back into the main room and to her fire, which had burned low, as she waited.