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Post by Nal on Nov 30, 2019 5:50:11 GMT -8
Atalan and Nal had one thing in common - the power that defied logic, which was not ki, but something deeper. Something that she called magic - and it was a name as good as any. So obviously, when the two decided to work together on this sculpture, it had to be the shape of magic! But what would that shape even be?
Nal wondered long and so did the baron, eventually coming to an agreement - a hand spewing both ice and fire out of it. It was magic, understandable to all! And so, the majin's task was to find a proper block to shape the hand in. It wasn't difficult - the north had those large walls of ice where one could easily get some, so Nal just lopped a chunk off and carried it over to where the two set up. But a chunk was not a block...
Taking her sword, Nal focused. To make a magic sculpture, she would need magic, obviously. And channeling the green-ish aura of her mystical powers through the sword she had, the majin lodged it into the ice - through which it pierced like hot knife through butter. One side was reinforcing the ice on the side she wanted to keep, while the other - cut away on the other. Six slices later, Nal made a mostly cubical shape in the center of the shapeless chunk - then, as the weapon was sheathed, made way to the corner of her soon-to-be ice block. Her arms were spread and closed fists struck the ice on each side of the block. Soon, several Nals appeared - brief wisps of her green aura, striking as an echo of her punches, chipping away at the ice - in a split second, all punches were delivered and the ice shattered with a deafening crash.
Nal grinned. "There! Now we can begin."
[306]
MimbukCI1d100 1d100
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Post by Atalan on Dec 2, 2019 19:08:59 GMT -8
Atalan stepped out into the snow, surveying where he and Nal would be shaping their sculpture. They had already decided to make a sculpture representing one of the things they had in common, the powers of the arcane. He found the work area that had been set aside for their work and sat upon the granite block where the ice block would be placed while they carved it. He opened his grimoire and idly leafed through it, looking for any minor enchantments or powers that would aid them in their task. He made an appreciative ahhh as he found something interesting; an enchantment that aided the accuracy and power of tools. They had a decent amount of power... but accuracy could be quite helpful. Hell, more power usually didn't hurt anything either. He looked around the platform and saw a wooden bench attached to one side with a wonderful selection of tools laid out. He picked up 3 different sizes of chisel, an ice pick, and the large steel hammer and went around to the back of the stone block, out of sight.
He concentrated and summoned the anvil from the forge he had commissioned to have built behind his manor. He had acquired a taste for the work after forging the star metal with Nal and had actually acquired some skill in making and enchanting items. He snapped his fingers and summoned some bellows that appeared on the forge, then snapped his fingers once more and called out, "Come forth, Beauregard. I have need of you." a cloud of green smoke popped into existence before condensing into a fat bodied demon with green skin, a portly belly, and spindly legs. He was dressed in a parka colored like a tuxedo and a scarf that was tied like a formal tie and wore a long suffering expression on his face. He bowed to Atalan and in a rumbling bass voice asked, "How might I serve the master?"
Atalan pointed to a spot in the snow, "Start making bricks of snow and make the shape of a forge right here. Hop to it, I don't have all day." Atalan cracked his book open and reread the spells several times, setting the glyphs, order, and motions into his mind firmly. He closed his eyes and entered an almost trance like state, communing with his inner arcane power and letting the current flow through him, waxing and waning. He opened his eyes and turned towards the forge; Beauregard had just finished the makeshift forge and he stepped to the side as Atalan stepped forth and traced runes carefully into the packed snow. Once he was satisfied, he channeled power into the runes, which glowed a fierce blue-grey light for a few moments before receding and revealing a stone forge. He nodded in satisfaction and knelt into the forge and traced a series of fiery red runes, that erupted into explosive heat as he poured power into it. He nodded once more, satisfied and gestured for his manservant to take the bellows, "Keep it to a steady pace, Beauregard. I just need to etch the surface, we aren't actually forging today." He snapped his fingers and summoned his tongs, moving the large chisel into the forge and letting it start to heat. Once it had achieved a nice straw yellow color, he pulled it out and started etching a rune with the ice pick. He got finished with one and had to transfer it back to the forge. After two more sessions he had the 3 runes set into the metal and bound them with power. They blazed with crimson color then faded back into the steel. He repeated the process with each chisel and then dismissed the spells holding the fire and the forge and placed the tools back on the work bench. He stood as Nal returned with their ice block and grinned back at her, "Excellent... I am ready to begin. I think you will find the tools on the shelf... much more useful than normal."
OAWtZYsM1d100
[675/675]1d100
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Post by Nal on Dec 5, 2019 0:58:47 GMT -8
The Majin flew - carrying the block in her (abnormally extended, to encompass the entire thing!) arms, zooming through the air backwards, to make sure the air friction doesn't melt the ice. But fly she did, soon landing where her baron friend and his funnily dressed servant awaited. "Hey! Nice jacket." - she spoke towards Beauregard, setting the ice cube down on the ground between herself and the two. Grinning widely at Atalan, walking over to inspect the tools. "They're magic, right? I can smell that aura on them" - she said, with a sagely nod - although lacking any nose to actually smell with. She took a chisel, and after a while of consideration, an ice pick. "Nice! Today we make a thing together, rather than two things alone. It's funny how we mostly meet when we need to make stuff, yeah? Maybe we could start some special forge of mystic stuff someday. But now we go! I'll make the fire at the top, you handle the... well, hand." - the gray majin snickered at her involuntary pun, before - without even waiting for a reply - flying up to the top of the huge ice cube (which, despite her best efforts, did start to melt at the corners - it being easily twice the size of a man made covering the entire thing difficult) and beginning to apply tool to ice - using her own hand as a hammer for the pick to chip away at larger chunks that she didn't want, using the chisel in much the same way to then do away with smaller chunks that were in the way of her imagination of a roaring flame, exiting from a palm of a hand. In tune with her senses still, she concentrated even further - calling upon her mystic power to help guide her hand, to create rather than just destroy the ice. She thought it to be fitting for the powers of a healer and - soon enough, between the mystic magic of Nal and witchcraft runes of Atalan, the tools were used in an odd state of harmony - the equilibrium of strange powers used to create a sculpture of those very powers.
The fact Nal focused hard by chewing on mint gum also helped, probably in equal measure to the tools and their magic. And soon, the flame began to poke from the ice...
JT8t75v_1d100
[389|695] 1d100
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Post by Atalan on Dec 6, 2019 7:59:52 GMT -8
Atalan watched, impressed despite himself as the little grey maijin flew in holding the huge chunk of ice. He nodded appreciatively, "You have been studying and training hard, little one, to have learned to fly. I have been looking into learning myself, but I haven't quite gotten the hang of it yet." He watched in pleasure as she examined the tools he had enchanted and nodded, "It does seem that we keep running into each other for creative tasks. I have set up a small smithy on my estate after our experience with the star silver. Feel free to visit me there some day and we'll see what we can accomplish together." Atalan allowed himself a small grin at her pun of him... handling the hand. He found that agreeable as he had once studied anatomy and stone chiseling as part of his education. He knew ice was different, but surely some of the principles would remain the same even in this different medium.
Considering the tools left before him, he elected to pick up the large hammer and the medium chisel; he had a lot of ice to move, but he wanted to be at least roughly precise. He started at the bottom corner and stared closely at the ice before placing the chisel and carefully tapping. The chisel went through the ice almost like it was clay; Atalan set the hammer aside and tried to pull the chisel across the edge at a slight angle. The ice shaved off easily and fell to the earth with little resistance. Interesting. It seems I wrought better than I even knew. He bent back down and started carefully shaping a wrist rising from the altar, careful to include the small details of veins and the lines of the wrist; he found himself almost consumed with the details. He moved up to the heal of the hand carefully shaping the rounded lines. He shaped the palm from the outside in, leaving the center for Nal's work as he started on the shaping of the fingers curling up around the flame. It took him the longest to shape these; the intricate line work and detail was taxing. He held out his hand and called out, "Beauregard, sandpaper." His manservant quickly rushed to the tool bench and fetched it over to him with a bow, "Master."
Atalan used the sandpaper to polish and shape the fingernails bringing them up into a demon's sharp tips. He held out the sand paper for his manservant to take, which the demon promptly ate without even changing expression. Atalan paced around the hand, carefully edging out a line here and there to accentuate detail. Finally he finished and sat down, feeling a headache as the trance he had entered left him. He wasn't sure, but he thought his magic had been guiding him with the carving. Time would tell if it was enough.
3Gg_cEds1d100
[485/1160] 1d100
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