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[h1]Ryuudou Temple[/h1][/center]

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Single-mindedness was beautiful. To entirely focus one's abilities, intent, and every thought upon a task would yield a wondrous result regardless of who committed to it. Be they prodigy or fool, sincere hard work and dedication were virtues of highest regard.

Unfortunately, this was not one of those cases, because Youzai and Caster were still bickering like drunken frats in their heads.

Fortunately, the results were still exceptional due to mutual talent. With this workshop-forge approaching completion, all was going well. Youzai made note of the arrival at the gate, but continued to maintain his distance for the time being. He'd be engaging in communication soon enough, once he could focus on it.

Caster was currently making it an unwise idea to let the others know what was being spoken between them, and Youzai regarded the sheer vulgarity as something he wished to keep private. Not out of shame, but professionalism. To dirty Uva's purity with such language would be an insult to the Einzbern, and their link to their de facto sponsor was likewise someone they were better off not giving the wrong impression to. 

Caster would only hold his tongue, likewise, around Assassin. Once Youzai noticed the arrival of her Master, he interrupted Caster to inform him.

[i][color=orange]-up your worm-infested asshole and make you into a living chandelier for-[/color]
[color=2c4ecb][b]They're here.[/b][/color]
[color=orange]That such is readily apparent, Contractor. Humans are the concern primarily assigned to your attention, negatory thisself.[/color][/i]

Youzai fleetingly wondered if Caster was doing that on purpose, but quickly chose to divorce himself from further thought on the subject, slamming the mental door on their connection. Instead, he reached out to his other familiars, which only got under his skin literally, to contact the other Masters.

First, the tree near Uva and Saizou. The branches rustled, carrying Youzai's voice to them.

[color=2c4ecb]"Excuse me for interrupting. Welcome, Officer. Miss Uva, Caster's workshop is nearly complete, and the spear will be the first priority. I will be contacting Syone regarding materials, but if you could provide the catalyst you used, Caster suggested that for improved compatibility."[/color]

Even as the tree conveyed his message, the mountain's flow of prana was shifting and swirling. 

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At the peak, under the temple itself, Caster hollowed out the core of his workshop. The peak's stone was the oldest, thrust upwards from the subduction of the oceanic plate, rather than volcanic accretion. It also had the merit of lesser density, being sedimentary. The blows of his hammer, rather than breaking off the stone, bent and compressed it. Much of the mountain's lower strata, pushed upwards from below sea level, was metamorphic already, and Caster apologized softly to the stone for briefly disturbing its sleep. He would also not pierce too deeply, as Youzai had warned. But a subterranean workshop was best, to be physically within the leyline's flow, at the summit node.

His own catalyst, an anvil he had briefly used, was installed in the cave's center, on top of a raised dais. That dais also formed the perimeter of a smaller Bounded Field, capturing and trapping heat that Caster could precisely direct and disperse. Air particles above an arbitrary thermodynamic threshold were admitted, those that fell below were rejected. The polished stone across the mountain could capture sunlight and pipe the thermal energy into this temperature-regulation system. In a pinch, prana could supply a steady heat regardless. It was time. 

Caster stood above the anvil, and drove the final lynchpin into his Noble Phantasm, to complete his forge.

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[color=orange]
The King of Elves claims this territory.

Like a storm, he thunders.
Like a volcano, he rumbles.

Heroes, rise!
Bards, sing!

His seven hundred rings;
His steely sinews;

That which incites envy in the hearts of kings.
That which creates, destroys, and shapes anew.
That which banishes fear, that which sows terror and sorrow.
That which glorifies, that which ruins.

The dreams and wishes of Men shape him.
His works shape the dreams and wishes of Men.

I am He. I am Weyland. I am...
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[h1][color=orange]Galan Volundr[/color][/h1]


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