[The Labyrinth]Prayers to Izurdin[Open]

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A village cut off from the rest of Mizahar by the Valterrian, slowly reestablishing contact with the outside world.

[The Labyrinth]Prayers to Izurdin[Open]

Postby Landeril Shieldus on May 12th, 2011, 5:44 am

Spring, 83 Day
The Isurian Male walked into the field before the great Labyrinth, where so many clerics and mages had walked. His dark green eyes were drawn to the beautiful work of the builders who had crafted the stone structure. Isurians were famous for their work as Smiths, as he knew, being one himself. This impressed even older people of the Isur Race, he had heard.

He then knelt, his hands coming together as he bent his head. "Father Izurdin, Lord of Industry. Your humble servant calls upon you to bless my works ahead. I seek to find work, using the skills you imparted upon your children, The Isurs. May your hand guide my hammer." The Isurian Male finished, bowing his head before pushing himself up and adjusting his backpack once more onto his shoulders.

"This structure is truly a beautiful piece of work." He sighed, standing there as the wind blew his cloak to the side, revealing the silver five pointed star on his throat and the Gnosis Mark of Izurdin on his left arm.
Last edited by Landeril Shieldus on May 13th, 2011, 8:57 pm, edited 1 time in total.
~Landeril, The Isurian Black Smith of Denval

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[The Labyrinth]Prayers to Izurdin[Open]

Postby Maliken on May 13th, 2011, 5:32 pm

[[OOC: Please Timestamp the thread. Anywhere from Spring, 82nd Day to 90th Day works perfectly for me. Otherwise I'll need to bail from this thread.]]


"Does he answer you often?" Maliken had made it an uncanny habit of walking aimlessly around Denval, following the shores with icy water and rough and smooth stones, glancing inside each and every available public building, and far from the least in importance, the Labyrinth to just think, which meant she was mostly brooding over her missing arm, the limb that would never return. "Izurdin has surely blessed you if you are still so devoted to him. It is probably cruel to be with you if it is so. I am not so fortunate." Maliken had, during Landeril's small prayer, overheard him talking, and because they shared a mark of Izurdin, it was much too easy to identify him as one of her own. The primary difference was he had both of his arm, Maliken lost hers not long ago.

Maliken started to move away, leaving Landeril's presence for some paranoid fear that Izurdin both detested her, and would punish someone he favored just for being around her. It was a twisting thinking to be certain, but when you experienced things that Maliken had, it would make a bit more sense. Maliken moved slowly through the Labyrinth, her heavy robe felt like it was weaved in stones that night. Perhaps it was humidity clinging to the naturally thick cloth and perhaps it was all in her head, but if she were in private, certainly she would have shed that massive garb in attempt to get a breeze on her skin and a comforting breath in her lungs.

It had been several says since she met that strange person, one she wasn't sure if she could consider a friend or just an acquaintance, but he had been so obsessed with the moon. Or Leth in specific. Maliken, not until her flee from everyone she knew, never considered other gods except for Izurdin. Perhaps Rak'keli. Maliken beg the goddess of healing so very vigorously to spare her arm, to rescue it and her, but her prayers went unheard. Maliken's prayer always went unheard.

It made her miserable.
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[The Labyrinth]Prayers to Izurdin[Open]

Postby Landeril Shieldus on May 13th, 2011, 8:48 pm

The Male Isur looked up at the female, "Not really. Please, stay. Talk with me. I have not seen another Isur in weeks." He smiles, bowing his head to the female, "I am Landeril Shieldus, Son of the Coglias clan." He pulled back his cloak and revealed his green tinted arm, "It is a pleasure to meet you." The Isurian Male said.

He held his hand out to her, "Would you tell me your name, and your story? I see you have no arms." The Isur stopped, his eyes seeming to grow distant as he began to think. "I wonder if its possible to construct a metal arm for you?" He asked aloud, his eyes moving to the woman.

He was friendly towards any Isur, having found little company among the strangers of Denval. He could not even find a job. Finding a fellow Isur, his day had been brightened a bit. "Perhaps he has answered my prayers by sending a friend?" The Man asked.
~Landeril, The Isurian Black Smith of Denval

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[The Labyrinth]Prayers to Izurdin[Open]

Postby Maliken on May 14th, 2011, 1:03 am

OOCJust in case I was unclear, Maliken has one arm. The Non-Super-Awesome-Unbreakable-Isur-Dominant Arm is still in tact, the other is amputated. Sometimes I fail at explaining this.

Maliken didn't get very far, Isur steps were short and slow when at leisure, yet they could cover serious distance when it was called for. She had stopped in her tracks as Landaril asked her to. To be honest, she wanted to talk to anyone, especially an Isur. At least the Coglias Clan Member would have no direct ties to her or her family. They were the same race, but the Isur were a wide variety nevertheless. She extended her arm, her right arm, her only arm, and extended it forward. It made it awkward, since his arm was left, and hers right. It was the best she could do. The ink-black appendage was all she had to offer. "I will not stay here, I came to walk the Labyrinth in contemplation, but you are invited to follow." Maliken nodded solemnly, then moved, expecting Landaril to follow beside her.

"I am Maliken Ironfist, once of the Clan Pitrius. My story... it is long and still too fresh to be considered healed. I am a poison crafter." Maliken's eyes were cold as she watched the ground moving underneath her feet, hidden by that massive robe. It was meant primarily to hide the obvious loss of her left arm, but still some saw through it. "It is odd for a Pitrius Clanmate to not take up a personal or world magic and master it, but I have never been fond of dedicating my life to such a thing. It is more odd still that I craft poisonous concoctions rather than crafting steel and iron weaponry, but I am incapable of that now. I have often thought of replacing the arm I have lost with a creation, but to do such a thing is beyond my skill. I would need magecrafters, maybe an animator. Gadgeteers for the joints, and then, somehow, a way to control it myself. I have had this puzzle in my mind for only a short time, but it consumes me. A steel arm, it's not so easy, but I do believe it to be possible."

Maliken almost seemed unabashed by her flaw she was so obsessed in, but to be honest, it tore her apart to talk about it. If Landaril had some sort of knowledge, a hint of something to push her in the right direction, then she could thank fate, maybe some unknown god, for this meeting after all. Yet, unlike Landaril, she would not be able to thank Izurdin. She couldn't believe he was still holding Maliken in his favor.
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[The Labyrinth]Prayers to Izurdin[Open]

Postby Landeril Shieldus on May 14th, 2011, 3:11 am

"Hm. Perhaps I can help. I can smith the arm from iron and steel, but I do not have the magic or knowledge to make it work." He shook his head, looking at her "But I have the knowledge of metals and forging." He smiles, as he walks behind her, his cloak flowing around his feet, revealing his twin long swords.

"And if nothing else, I'll help you find a way to restore what you have lost, I swear it in Izurdin's name." Lan nods, looking at the female he walked beside, "Maliken. You are still creating. Maybe not forging blades, or carving stone. But you are making poisons. Be proud of what you can do." The Male touched her shoulder lightly with his green tinted hand.

His sorrow for her loss showed in his eyes, as did his determination to help her. He would forge the arm himself if he had to. But the magic to make it work, and the science to attach it, that was not in his range of abilities. He shook his head as he smiled, "What say you Sister Mali? Shall we travel together to find a replacement arm?" He smiles, waiting for her answer with his patient dark green eyes.
~Landeril, The Isurian Black Smith of Denval

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[The Labyrinth]Prayers to Izurdin[Open]

Postby Maliken on May 14th, 2011, 5:46 am

'Sister Mali'. She had to admit that she wasn't exactly fond of that little nickname, but he was being kind, overly kind, almost frighteningly so. He felt the world drift into silence as she simply didn't respond for a lengthy moment. "Yes, creating. Creating concoctions that destroy. I find it ironic that my chosen profession has such an effect. Destruction. It is the opposite of what Izurdin desires, perhaps it all makes sense after all." Maliken was grim, even in her almost sarcastic tone, she didn't offer a smile or even the warmth of friendship offered to her to infect her.

"I could not ask you to help me, nor could I permit you dedicating such a long time in this task. It would take seasons of studying without rest to learn all the contraptions needed to move the arm with any realism. The steel arm you speak of, it would only be a shell of a limb. It would be a creation, needed to be worked on from the inside out, putting the coat of steel on last. Even if we new the precise shape and dimensions required to be perfect fit, I would not accept your help. You have no reason to go so far out of your way to help me. You owe me nothing, and I do not desire to owe anything of anybody else. I am not in a state well enough to pay back debts." The hand on her shoulder cause Maliken to stop and draw her eyes up to Landeril's. It didn't take much to recognize his genuine (or at least very skilled visage) pain in knowing her current state, and she could not for the life of her assume he had an alternative motive. He seemed to be caring for her like a child, like her family should have. Well, they were in the past now. She was old enough to care for herself, mature beyond her age.

"Why have you come to Denval?"
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[The Labyrinth]Prayers to Izurdin[Open]

Postby Landeril Shieldus on May 14th, 2011, 11:57 pm

Lan looked down at Mali, shaking his head "Would not be going out of my way. I could learn more of my craft this way, and perhaps, other arts. You would owe me nothing, nor would I owe you anything." He stated, holding his hand out to touch her cheek gently, in a brotherly way "Just consider it a gift. From a friend." He smiles.

He could feel her pride, that stubborn tic in her jaw as he shook his head, his blonde hair tied to his neck. "As for coming to Denval. I seek work, to learn and craft more creations." He sighed, having found no smithy in this town. Hell the only place that interested him was the labyrinth.

He then turns towards Mali, tilting his head as he posed the same question "What brings you to this Isolated City."
~Landeril, The Isurian Black Smith of Denval

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Postby Maliken on May 15th, 2011, 12:59 am

Maliken leaned her head backwards, stepping away from Landeril to avoid his hand that reached for her face. Brotherly or not, it felt a little bizarre for this, hand to face touching thing. "I'll consider it. I'd need to gather a large sum of mizas before I could even dream of traveling around mizahar and searching for the secrets of constructing an arm. I'll not willing to feed my imagination just yet." Maliken started moving again, walking around the twisted unclear paths of the Labyrinth.

"You come from Sultros then? I figured there'd be plenty of opportunity there, but I suppose the rest of the world values the rare Isur crafts more than the Isur who see it every day. Perhaps a wise choice." Maliken nodded sagely to herself as she pondered her own words. It seemed to make sense to her. "I had no intention of coming to Denval to be honest. I fled from Sultros, from my father, sought out my cousins, who I left behind in Lhavit earlier this season. I boarded the first ship away from the area and ended up here. I'm not sure what I plan to do yet."
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[The Labyrinth]Prayers to Izurdin[Open]

Postby Landeril Shieldus on May 15th, 2011, 10:27 pm

He shakes his head, "I didn't feel like remaining in Sultros." He stated as he walked beside her, his footsteps quiet as he spoke, "My father taught me basic black smithing and sent me to find a master. I found one on my travels who taught me what I know now." He looks towards her, tilting his head to one side, "And yeah. Tis true that the world values our crafts more then us. But without us, there would be no craft." He listened to her story as he walked beside her, watching the walls of the Labyrinth "I came to Denval since it was cut off from the rest of the world. I figured that they might need smiths and metal workers, and yet, they have no forges."

The Isur male shook his head as he sighed, looking at her with his dark green eyes "But that is what happens when one doesn't look ahead." He joked, shaking his head once more. He went silent, brooding over his thoughts, and if one were to look in his eyes, they would see him calculating the costs for her arm. "I think we could do it together. We'd just have to travel together. I'll help you, if you help me." He smiles, turning towards her, "I wish to learn the Art of Poison Making from you." He offered, a simple trade of knowledge. "What do you say Sister Mali?"
~Landeril, The Isurian Black Smith of Denval

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[The Labyrinth]Prayers to Izurdin[Open]

Postby Maliken on May 16th, 2011, 4:14 am

"It is difficult to make what you need when you don't know what you need. Perhaps Denval needs a forge-master like yourself to awaken their eyes. An entire city would be thankful for your work. Perhaps your calling is here rather than chasing the elusive plans of an immature girl?" Maliken looked over at Landeril, she was completely serious despite almost sounding sarcastic. She still felt unsure about this man, Isur or not. She had a bad experience with her own people, not that she preferred other races above her. However, once Landeril suggested the trade of knowledge, his help to construct a replacement limb for her knowledge of poisons, she felt a chill run through her spine. He had lied to her, only moments ago, claiming she would not owe him anything, yet know he revealed his true intrigue int he bargain, self-gain. It was refreshing to know his true motives, yet still disturbing in the same sense. She wanted to believe he would do that for her just because there was some sort of love for a distant sister, but she knew better than to be so idealistic, this reinforced it.

"I will not make a decision tonight. I have many days still that I'll remain in Denval. I'm trying to secure a job with a local doctor, money, I think, will be short for me for a while until I prove valuable. I am curious as to your intrigue in poisons though." Maliken stopped moving abruptly as she turned completely to face Landeril. "I must make myself unmistakably clear. I do not kill, nor permit the murder of people for personal gain. Death can be justified, but that is not at the decision of a single person, no matter how wise, intelligent, or righteous. I work with poisons so that I can know how to better combat them. It's an unnatural approach at healing, but it is my passion." Maliken sighed, growing weary of this conversation. Her arm was gone. The whole talk was in direct response to it. She wanted to talk about something else.

"You seem quite a bit older than me Landeril. Do you have a family? I mean, of course you came from a family, but have you a family of your own? Children?"
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