"Walking a Lady Home" Log Date: 8/31/00 Log Cast: Sunrose, David, Jenner, Embla, Jillin Log Intro: The change of seasons in Haven from summer to autumn to a chill winter indeed has not had much of an impact upon the young Mongrel singer David; indeed, if there is anything in all the world he does comfortably understand, it is the regular cycle of the seasons. So too does he understand basic things like being nice to one's neighbors, even in a city like Haven where a whole lot of one's neighbors seem to be awfully surprised when you go and, well, be neighbor-like. Such as, for example, a young Mongrel naraki owned by a Varati smith, into whom David quite literally bumps while out for a winter stroll.... *===========================< In Character Time >===========================* Time of day: Morning Date on Aether: Wednesday, January 9, 3907. Year on Earth: 1507 A.D. Phase of the Moon: Waning Gibbous Season: Winter Weather: Clear Skies Temperature: Bracing *==========================================================================* Northern Docks - Haven Here is a wilderness of masts and sails; where great wooden behemoths dwarf tiny fishing boats, and narrow skiffs glide atop the waves as fleet as deer. Here is the main harbor of Haven, and goods are unloaded daily by the burly dockhands, while others are toted aboard ships bound for distant ports. Day or night, the bustle of activity remains constant, and a few rowdy taverns supply drink and entertainment for sailors who've enjoyed neither for months. The smell of the sea--salt, brine, and fish--hangs over the docks, but not unpleasantly so. For those who make their living from the sea--be they shipbuilders, sailors, fishermen, or merchants--it is the smell of home. And whether they've settled down in this seaport town, or are merely passing through, it is a welcome reminder of a life beneath the open sky, with the wind in your sails and the stars above to guide you. Contents: Sunrose Obvious exits: Docks Streets Siren's Song Town Garden The recalcitrant winter sun is barely more than a small yellow spot smashed behind layers upon layers or gray which coat the sky. Glowing faintly-- barely more than a firefly, it cannot be counted on to give warmth nor light. A gloomy gray nothingess surrounds the inhabitants of this city, moved only by the bitter bite of the wind. Most people have sought their homes and beds during this time of year, but a few brave or perhaps foolish would be a much more adequate term wander around in the streets, inhaling the pungent smell of the ever-lasting sea. Light's child walks among this world of darkness, her brilliant golden locks refusing to submit to the scarves which hold them down. Under layers and layers of cloaks and jackets is young Sunrose, heading towards the direction of the Rialto. Jammed between all those people might provide some heat at least! 'specially with those huge Varati and the wings of those haughty Empyreans! Jenner follows Seaside in from the east. Jenner has arrived. "Oh won'tcha come along with me, love, come along with me..." The voice is baritone and lilting, the tune jaunty, and the producer of both a lanky young Mongrel ambling his way in the direction opposite to the young Sylvan. David quite arguably ranks as one of the more foolish young men in Haven, but then again, with the glow in his azure eyes and the smile tugging at his lips, it's difficult to really find fault with his presence out in the cold. And here's another. It may be a bitter cold winter, but food much be had regardless. Neither songster nor sunkissed, this one walks along almost stiffly, one hand resting on the hilt of the sword that's peace-bound at his side. Like the singer, he seems to be away form the Rialto. Delicately pointed ears twitch as the perky melody bounces into it's keep, echoing within its chambers with as much vibrance as it had when it first left the producer's mouth. For a moment, Sunrose's hunger is forgotten, the pain in her stomach eased by the bright eyes and the catchy tune. She slows down, her feet treading soft across the snow-packed path. A small grin shoots out, brightening Sunrose's sulky face like the rainbow which brightens the gloomy day. Like a moth drawn to a flame, the young healer stares at David, disregarding all etiquette for the sake of some pleasure in this gloomy show. Embla follows Seaside in from the east. Embla has arrived. "Come for one night an' be my wife and come along with me..." David, apparently oblivious to the attention he's seized from the Sylvan girl, saunters his way past the Siren's Song -- though that perhaps isn't necessarily odd at this hour. Winter breeze tousling his black hair and bringing up a flush of color under his tan, he continues on singing half-under his breath. A couple of the lines aren't intelligible as he's not paying attention to his volume, but the next two swell up again: "... That soldi that I gave to you, do not think me strange -- well that soldi that I gave to you, will you give me back me change? Well come along with me, love..." Embla walks along the street, keeping to one side...carrying her basket on one arm. She pauses, looking around...eyes scanning the ground.. Jenner nods to a pair of passing Atlanteans - Korallion Guard by the look of them. The gaurds return the nod, almost as though acknowledging a fellow, even though the mongrel is most certainly not Atlantean. He's a handful of paces behind David, although his own path appears to be taking him to the docks. Embla is wearing a pair of simple booth, and a long cloak over her sari. The cloak is open in the front, then pulled together, under her arm. Hopefully she wears something under that sari...it don't look warm. The chubby bundle of blankets heaves up and down as Sunrose gives a dramatic sigh beneath her layers of covering. Loooove! Oh la la! Yet as the morning brings more and more passerbys, some carrying biscuits in hand, others with baskets of their daily groceries, Sunrose's stomach gives a rumbling protest. Stomach orders, feet obeys. Within moments, the young girl is sprinting towards the Rialto again, trying to go as fast as she dares in this icy hell. Embla stops as the girl comes sprinting towards her, not wanting to get overrun or anything...she also start getting out of the way, seeming a bit weighted down by what's in her basket.. Sunrose leaves the bustle of the docks, towards the east. Sunrose has left. Jenner heads south, towards the docks. Jenner has left. Okay, so David isn't entirely oblivious -- he does actually stop singing to himself as he sees Sunrose skitter by out of the corner of his vision. Sylvan -- and a fast little thing, ain't she? Blue eyes wide and curious, for he's still not entirely accustomed to the mixed throng of races he has been encountering in this city ever since he arrived, the young Mongrel makes the mistake of glancing over his shoulder back at her while continuing to walk forward. Towards Embla and her basket. Embla isn't too steady on her feet herself...skittering a bit as she tired to stop...so she's still, more or less trying to regain her balance...Not seeing you, as she has all the time in the world not to tip out her jingling basket. Embla This dainty young girl stands 5'1", and is easily in her mid-teens. Her innocence shines from her bright-blue eyes as she brushes back her long, flowing, blond hair from her face. Her fair skin is highlighted pink on her cheeks. A beautiful set of white teeth and the dimples that appear when she smiles has a way of melting all but the coldest men's hearts. She wears a simple, beige or light yellow sari, wrapped around her body and covering her shoulders. The sari fits is draped around her showing off her young girlish assets. Her bare feet, though callused on the under side, look quite delicate and petite from the top. She seems quite exotic wearing this garment so typical Varati. When she's outside she does also wear a veil, but her bright blue eyes gives her away. Well, collision is pretty much inevitable, and thus six feet of David run smack dab into five of the young girl in the sari. David doesn't exactly help matters much either as he yelps out in startlement, practically stepping on the poor girl's feet as he tries belatedly to catch himself. "Aww no, Tyche -- Ah'm sorry...!" Embla is pushed forwards....trying to grab onto something, well, other then her basket her hands flailing in the empty air. She tries leaning back, the weight of what's in the basket keeps her from that, and very ungracefully, her and her basket goes falling on the ground with a large metal sound, as metal peices in all shapes, sizes and colors rolls out of the basket, some broken swords, mugs, some sharp enough to hurt oneself on..and in the middle of this, there is the girl, clutching her backet. "Aww... aww, Tyche, Ah-Ah'm sorry, Ah'm so sorry, ma'am!" David cries, obvious distress crinkling his tanned young face now. He's torn as to what exactly to do, but only for a moment. Shyness doesn't stand long against the dictates of good old fashioned Bremany manners; his Pa'd tan his hide if he didn't help a lady up first. "Lemme he'p ya up theah?" he asks plaintively, offering a large, lean hand for the girl to take if she so desires. "Ah-Ah weren't watchin' wheah Ah was goin', my fault, Ah'm jes' awful clumsy sometimes... y'okay theah?" Embla looks very confused...what happened really...she then looks around, all the pieces of metal...the hand. She takes that. Then looks up at the man, straight into the eyes for a moment, then lowers her eyes to where it's proper too look "No, Imphadi. It was my fault. Please, my forgivness Imphadi. I should not have stopped." she holds on to the basket, looking unhurt, except shaken. David blinks, rather taken aback at this particular reply. Dainty as Embla is, it doesn't take a strapping lad like him much effort to pull her up to her feet again, and this leaves him free to start gathering fallen bits of metal. Still, even as he starts doing so, confusion crinkles his brow. Not too much upstairs does David possess, and he protests plaintively, "Uh, well... Pa always tol' me Ah shouldn't nevah argue with no lady, ma'am... but it jes' looked like t' me Ah was th' one bumpin' intah _you_... but ain't no nevahmind, lemme git all this stuff up for ya..." And thusly, the same lean hand that had plucked Embla up off the ice starts retrieving fallen items and slipping them into the basket from which they'd tumbled. Embla looks at the man, rather taken a back by his demeanor...she then smiles, adding.."I'm no lady Imphadi." she says, carefully, so she won't fall again, bending to pick up some of the peices too. Good fortune it was metal, at least everything in unbreakable. That, too, apparently confuses the boy. He glances up as he drops a couple more pieces of metal into the basket, asking blankly, "Y'ain't? You're a gal, ain'tcha?" Apparently, distinctions of social class are entirely lost upon David, if the baffled look in those earnest blue eyes of his is any indication. _Now_ shyness begins to return, as a blush supplants the red winter chill has also put into his cheeks. "Ah-Ah mean, mah Pa, he allus said a man oughtta be nice t' womenfolk, an' y'sure look like one t' me...? Ah-Ah mean--" Not that he's _looking_, mind you, but the relative delicacy and beauty of this creature in the sari _does_ appear to be getting through his thick skull now if nothing else is. "Er, uh, what's 'Imphadi' mean anyhow?" Yeah. That's it! That's what he meant to say, sure! Embla blushes also, keeping her eyes lowered. Oh...I see. "It mean..like sir..a term or respect Imphadi...and yes, "she pauses, to smile..."I am a girl, just I'm a naraki, and no lady.." she explain, a shy look up at your face, with those blue eyes as she pushes some blonde hair back behind the veil. There's a good foot's worth of height between the Mongrel girl and this big former farmboy, and even as Embla peeks up, David peeks down. The lad scratches his tousled dark head as he ponders this, eyes clouded with bemusement for a moment or two, before they finally clear. "Oh... that's a V'rati word... oh." OH. This means she's a SLAVE, lunkhead! Comprehension dawns! "Kinda _thought_ you was kinda teeny fer a V'rati gal," he muses aloud, "an' pale, too...!" Ooh, comprehension twice in a row! "Y'a Mongrel, jes' like me, then, an' y'ain't gotta go callin' me nothin' fancy, ma'am. Don't fret none!" Having reasoned this through -- and reason's a rare accomplishment for him -- he beams proudly and resumes fetching fallen bits of metal off the slushy, snowy ground, presenting them to go into the basket with an air not unlike that of a dog fetching a thrown stick for his master. Embla smiles and looks at the large man "Well, just as your Pa, said to be polite to people Imphadi, my Mater told me to be polite to people too." she holds out the basket, affraid now that if she bends she will spill it all again. She smiles some more, the sweet boy..this one she can grow to like. Maybe her Master could use some help in the smithy. David might be big and rangy and not quite in control of where his feet go at any given time, but at least when he puts his mind to it, he can be fast and able. The scattered metal fragments are retrieved in only a few more passes, and the black-haired young fellow straightens up again with that shy little smile of his tugging at one corner of his mouth. "Theah y'go now, ma'am, did Ah-Ah git it all?" he hopefully inquires. Embla smiles and bows her head, a sign of respect for sure..."Yes, Thank you very much Imphadi." she replies, and then, she raises her head, all the way to look at you "Thank you..very much." she repeasts. David Just another Mongrel, from the look of him -- but this one at least is easy on the eyes, as Mongrels go. He's young, seemingly fit enough, and not _too_ scruffy of appearance; his features, while not necessarily refined of line, are pleasingly symmetrical. Short but unevenly cut black hair stands out in striking contrast with his sunbrowned skin and big sky-blue eyes, of a shade that suggests he's got an Empyrean or two somewhere back in his ancestry. He's tall, his frame rangy and lean, though his awkward carriage suggests shyness, post-adolescent clumsiness, or both. So does his voice, since he appears to have a habit of stammering his words -- but still, something about the clarion young baritone falls quite pleasingly upon the ear. He fidgets a lot, too, seemingly unconsciously, often rhythmically tapping his foot or hand upon whatever's handy. He's humbly but decently clad as one might expect of a Mongrel -- especially one who's managed to score a position working in a fairly classy establishment like the Pantheon. His simple blue linen shirt, brown breeches, and brown boots are all a working man's clothes, clean and in good condition; the shirt is of a vivid enough blue, too, that it nicely sets off his eyes. "Least Ah coulda done, bumpin' intah yah an' all," David pipes, blushing a bit under the effusive thanks, but his smile grows a bit bigger, too. "Y'need t' git that big ol' basketful off somewheah, ma'am?" Full of boyish earnestness, his speaking voice comes out of him rather higher than his singing one, less resonant, more shy. Embla smiles and pats the basket. "Yes, I need to go to my Master's house, and leave it. He is an artist, and uses the metal to forge new artworks with, Imphadi." she says, careully brushing off some snow from her clothes. David makes a soundless 'oh' with his mouth, bobbing his head up and down in a way that suggests he actually has at least a glimmer of a conception of what that's like -- but then again, there's still something rather puppy-like about him, as if he's simply responding to the sound of a pleasant voice rather than the actual things being spoken. "Well, uh, y'got that big ol' basket steady now? Need any help theah?" Embla tilts her head, and looks up at you. Such a sweet boy...she blushes, never had anyone's attention like she has his "I have it secure, Imphadi." she says, but adds, in a low voice, shyly "But if you like, you can walk with me a while." she offers..."I might need some later." she mumbles, blushing brigth red. "Sure," David amiably answers, in that country drawl of his. This time he actually does remember to look both ways along the street, before going on guilelessly, "Ah weren't doin' nothin' special anyhow, it's mah day off, so jes' lemme know which way t' go, ma'am?" He actually straightens up a bit, as if ready, willing, and eager to do something Useful. Embla smiles, and follows beside you, ready to take a hold if things get slippry "Your day off Imphadi, what do you do when you work?" she asks, smiling...feeling really secure with this large, overgrown..but very sweet boy. Jamming his hands comfortably into the belt about his waist, David sets off ambling in what _seems_ to be the appropriate direction (she HAD been going this way when he smacked into her, hadn't she?). "Th' Pantheon," he answers brightly. "Ovah in th' Empy quartah. Nice l'il' ol' winger gal got me a job theah soon's Ah come to Haven. Ain't nothin' much special, Ah jes' wash up th' dishes an' bring in food an' stuff, but mah Pa allus said ain't nothin' wrong with hon'rable labah." Embla steers the man, towards the east, and listens to his story "Maybe my Master could use someone to help him in the smithy." she says, watching you... David's head tilts a bit, brow crinkled again in evidently heavy thought; it seems this particular young Mongrel has to think rather heavily about a lot of things. "Well, iffin what Jackie an' Nat tell me's true, theah's lads all ovah Haven that need jobs, so's your Master maybe won't hafta look too hard," he suggests in helpful tones. Embla looks up at the helpfull boy...and smiles, carefully shaking her head. She then giggles, something she very, very rarely do "That is good Imphadi." she says..watching you. Oh, dufus...she meant you, of course. Embla leaves the bustle of the docks, towards the east. Embla has left. You leave the bustle of the docks, towards the east. Seaside and Border - Haven The buildings and stands accomodating those bent for a life near the ocean spill over here to create a veritable labyrinth of structures on narrow cobblestone pathways jutting out towards the changing waters. Here, the small clusters of homes and shops daringly strain so near to aquatic borders that cobblestone pathways often bear the damp and salty mark of adverse weather. Against the impressive background of seemingly boundless water, the time-worn buildings seem a bit more drab and dingy. The streets that comprise the main intersection are wider and far less cluttered, sprawling out in the north, east, and west directions. The bustle of Haven's docks is evident western along Seaside, while the impressive crests and ridges of the Korallion's nautilus shell jut out above low buildings to the east. Contents: Embla Obvious exits: Dirty Warehouse The Rialto Streets That's David, tall, pretty, sweet-tempered, but not too much upstairs. "Ah guess it must git awful hot workin' in a smithy," he pipes thoughtfully as he escorts you along, shoulders slightly hunched against the cold; other than that bit of stiffness to his posture, however, the former farmboy seems stoically unbothered by the temperature. "Bet a man could find that awful nahce round 'bout this time o' yeah." Embla smiles and nods "I am sure you can stay and warm yourself for a while Impahdi." she then tenses, and moves, so that..well...it seems she has you between herself and the warehouses in that shabbier part of town..She wets her lips, looking a bit worried. "Y'allright, ma'am?" David might appear to be lacking in smarts, but he's not entirely unobservant, and that worried little expression flitting across his companion's face doesn't entirely escape him. Glancing this way and that, he looks for some sign of a person or thing that might have disturbed this dainty little lady (er, okay, well, she said she wasn't a lady, but he ain't gonna argue the matter with no lady); seeing nothing but an open street on the morning, he then goes on brightly, "It does get awful fearsome cold round heah come th' wintertahme, don't it?" Very relived, he doesn't ask...then she doesn't have to tell that sad story "Me alright, yes...of course." she smiles, blushing "I have such protection Imphadi." she offers..then nods..."It sure does, I have no idea how the Empyreans can even stand flying in this cold." "Aww, Ah ain't nevah been able t' figger most wingers," David has to admit, "'ceptin' maybe Tienne 'cause she's awful nice even for a winger gal, but then 'gain Ah-Ah-Ah know Ah don't usually figger most folks out too good anyhow." Ah. Slow, but he's _aware_ of it. But apparently not too troubled by it, for he says this with that crooked, sheepish grin of his. "Wheah we goin' t' from heah, ma'am?" Embla smiles and waves towards the north "This way." she looks up at you, and says "I think you figure people out just fine Imphadi." she says, adding "And you are very nice." that tomatoe blushe again. "Awww..." And David ducks his head, blushing, grinning shyly. But he also obediently turns and ambles off towards the north. You travel north along Border until you reach Main. Main and Border - Haven To the east lies an urban sprawl--the vast marketplace filled with its colorful tents and stalls, the stately tower of Delphi's Citadel, and clusters of buildings ranging from the classic Empyreal style to the Varati's stone fortresses. And to the west, Bordertown. So called because of the street that marks the boundary between "civilized" life and not-so-civilized, Bordertown is a haven within Haven, for the rogues and outcasts of society. The neat, grid-like pattern of streets prevalent in the main district is lost, and a maze of alleyways and cobblestoned paths veer haphazardly among dilapidated structures badly in need of repair. The city guard itself rarely ventures within this wood-and-stone jungle, where the streets lie cloaked in shadow even in daylight. Here at the edge, there are still a few passersby, but they skulk along quickly and quietly, and rarely speak to strangers. Obvious exits: Streets Town Garden Trinkets, Treasures, and Trash The Rialto Embla travels along Border from the south. Embla has arrived. The girl blushes too, and for a while it seems both walk in silence towards the north, blushing... You travel north along Border until you reach Fairway. Fairway and Border - Haven Here is the beginning of Bordertown, named for the street that marks the boundary between it and the rest of the Haven. To the east lies order--the streets are designed in a grid-like pattern, the homes and shops are well-cared for, and business and trade thrive. But to the west is a different story. Only the main streets are still recognizable: Fairway, Main, and Seaside. The rest are a tangle of alleyways, side streets, and narrow, twisting paths. Here is the real "haven," the sanctuary to outcasts, rogues, thieves, and ruffians. They make their homes within Bordertown, where even the city guard is reluctant to venture, and this city within a city might as well be a separate one entirely, for all the traffic there is between. Resembling a jungle metaphorically, Bordertown also contains a literal one: the town garden to the southwest. Perhaps once it was meant to beautify the city, but over time it was claimed by Bordertown; its neat, ordered paths and manicured lawns giving way to a dense growth of weeds and wilderness--its beauty grown wild. Obvious exits: Fox's Forge Rooming House A Moment in Thyme Streets The Rialto Town Garden Embla travels along Border from the south. Embla has arrived. Embla keeps showing you to the north.. Embla travels north to the crossing of Palisade and Border. Embla has left. You travel north to the crossing of Palisade and Border. Palisade and Border - Haven Stone pervades the northwest edge of the city, starting from the ground up. The road is paved in all manner of rocks and pebbles, forming a subtle mosaic pattern of shapes and colors. The buildings are predominantly stone as well, with a few exceptions toward the southern end of the street, where wooden structures cling stubbornly like the ever-present weeds struggling up through cracks in the cobblestones. But stone is the overpowering element, just as those who shape and craft it dominate this section of the city. The ringing of hammers and the whiff of smoke in the air are familiar features, growing more pronounced as you head east. Here at the edge though, there is still diversity, and the occasional splash of green from some private garden nestled amid this wilderness of stone proves that it is not entirely Varati territory after all. Contents: Embla Jenner Jillin Obvious exits: Temple Ruins Amar's Metalworks Streets Jillin nods. "Well, I believe you, but if it's a pureblood Hound and a dispute between me and a pureblood? I don't think I'd be likely to win." Embla comes heading north, walking side by side with David, in this slipper weather. Her basket seems filled with something..making sounds as she walks, metal against metal. "Same blood, mayhaps. But Hounds are most all sorts - you're as likely to get a Varati Hound when an Empyrean is bothering you, or the other way 'round." Jenner grins, "Then it might work in your favor." He's speaking with Jillin, although the tracks in the snow show that there were recently more than just the pair conversing. There's a seemingly mismatched pair, the two young Mongrels coming up from the south. Dainty little Embla in her sari, and big lanky ex-farmboy David, towering over her by a good foot of height. But then again, they do have their race in common, not to mention both of them not exactly being dressed for the cold. Despite his comparatively light clothing, though, David seems to be stoically holding up against the temperature, hands jammed into his pockets and his breath frosting the air around his dark head. "Said yer mastah's a smith, ma'am?" he drawls curiously to Embla, peering around this section of the city with wide and curious eyes. Jillin grins. "Maybe. It's just a little too much like gambling, for my taste." She glances at the two approaching mongrels, curious. Embla looks up at David, and nods "He work with metal...like an artist." she then stops pausing. "I am sure my Master's home Impahdi, and maybe you can see some of his work." she offers. Jenner calls out to the approaching pair, "'allo there." Get Jenner talking for a while, and he seems to become downright gregarious. Jillin raises a hand in greeting, herself. "Howdy!" David calls right back, that drawl of his carrying rather well when he puts a little power into it; moreover, his dark head crooks up a bit as he looks ahead to see who must have hailed him and his current companion, and his youthful face takes on a guileless pleasure. Not too many folks get neighborly, after all, in troubled times like these! David positively beams at the hail and the wave, while telling Embla sheepishly, "Aww, Ah-Ah-Ah don't know nothin' 'bout no artwork, but iffin y'all don't mahnd me settin' foot in, Ah _guess_... well, Ah'll try not t' knock nothin' ovah!" Embla smiles and look up at her big friend "It don't matter...remember, none of these artworks break." she then also looks ahead, tensing a bit as she spots Jillin..."Imphadi, Imphada." she greet the two others with, although not so loud, and as she gets closer. "Good day t'you both," Jenner comments as the pair passes. Jillin smiles at Embla, with that guilty expression again. "Hello." David makes a rueful face to Embla, saying sidelong to her, "Ah-Ah dunno, ma'am, even if somethin's metal Ah'll probably smack it right ovah anyhow..." The young Mongrel lad squints down at his own feet for a moment; those particular portions of him look unprepossessing enough, encased as they are in their simple boots, but then again those _are_ the same feet that had David knock Embla over by accident. Embla lowers her eyes, as a naraki should, when speaking to other. She then repeats "Hello Imphadi, Imophada." then turns her head towards David "I am sure there will be no worry at all Imphadi." she smiles..the veil moving in the slight breeze. Jenner turns back to Jillin, "I should probably move along myself, been standing here enough that my feet feel like ice." He inclines his head, "You take care, and remember what I said about th'Hounds." A brief smile, "And give me a smile if you see me on patrol." Jillin glances at Jenner's feet when he says that; can't help it. She looks up again and grins. "All right. Better say hello to me first, before I see the uniform and disappear." Jenner raises an eyebrow at that, but nods. "I will. G'bye" He nods also to the other pair, then moves off. Jillin actually laughs, at that raised eyebrow. She suddenly looks cheerful. "Goodbye. Good night." Embla looks over at David "Would you like to come in and warm yourself Imphadi?" she asks, also nodding to the passing man, with a low "Imphadi." Jenner travels east along Palisade. Jenner has left. "Iffin y'don't mind none, ma'am, Ah'm a trifle chilly," David confesses, rubbing his work-roughened hands up and down his arms for a moment or two and then sticking his hands under his arms to keep them as warm as possible. Doesn't this boy have any gloves? Jillin grins at the two, bobbing her head absently, as she aims south. "'Night." "G'bye now!" David calls after Jillin, with the same open friendliness he'd done to Jenner, before he returns his attention to Embla. Embla nods her head to Jillin "Impahda." she then leads her companion into the shop. Embla opens the stout wooden door, entering Amar's Forge. Embla has left. You enter Amar's forge through the stout wooden door. Amar's Metalworks - Haven(#2573RADM$) The first impression many probably get of this room is that the owner definitely hasn't wasted the fairly cramped space of it. The faint, orangish glow of the oven and forge, mixes with the more yellow light of the candles, together illuminating the room, adding some kind of homey warmth to it. It is built entirely of rock, although, it is so cluttered with things, that you barely see the floor or the walls except for a few freed spots. In one, small, doorless room that is linked to the mainroom, there are boxes and piles lining the walls, filled with every kind of metal object imaginable. Drainage pipes, bolts, discarded, rusty weapons.. Anything possible out of metal that someone seems to have thrown away are scattered there. The forge itself is a stout oven with three different openings, likely for different temperatures, and an anvil, with tools lining the walls nearby. On a shelf next to the forge itself, shining new tools lie, a bit helter-skelter, like everything else in this room. A table, opposite to the forge, is filled with strange, almost inhumanly shaped sculptures of metal. Beautifully smooth curves, mingled with those made of more sharp angles, line the table. They seem to be a mix of all different kinds of metal, molded together. There is one more small room, which seems to be the living quarter. A light blue drapery, a contrast to all the metal and rock in the room, works as a door to a small room, with a bed that lines one of the walls, and a small closet and washstand the other. (This room has +views. Type '+help +view' for more info) (This room has places. Type '+help places' for more info) Contents: Embla Obvious Exits: Out [This scene was never finished, but paused by two mutually contented players. Yay Embla! ^_^ It may be assumed that David had a neighborly chat with the nice young slave girl, before venturing back out into the cold. End log.]