[center]━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━[/center][center][img]https://i.ibb.co/vXD6Q0t/Update-Text.png[/img][/center][center]━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━[/center][center][img]https://i.ibb.co/GWcg0WP/Silversmith-s.jpg[/img][/center][center]━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━[/center] [u]Weather[/u]: Light, steady rain continues to patter across the Township. Now that the rain has lessened appreciably, the temperature shifts to something colder. [u]Time[/u]: Late afternoon. There are but a smattering of hours before proper nightfall, so far as anyone can tell with the sky's ever-present cloud cover. [u]Ambience[/u]: In contrast to the dropping temperature outside, the silversmith's place is quite warm and just a tiny bit hazy. The two lamps lit by Jacques earlier and the constant dim glow of the flameless heat source under the pot forge provide adequate light to the room as a whole, though shadowy corners remain. The doors is solidly closed and barred with a heavy beam, front and back both. There are sounds of movement coming from the outside, small at first, common to a town full of people stirring. [center][color=darkgray][h2]*****[/h2][/color][/center] Jacques remained quiet as the discussion around him had less and less to do with the work he was doing and more with their plans for the immediate future, however short it might end up being. The focus for him was on the weapon he was inlaying with silver. Sure enough, as soon as the blade was done (and cooled with room temperature oil) he inverted the weapon and held it fast within the vice he used earlier. He had mentioned treating the guard and pommel to account for the differing balance the item had now. Luckily, addressing this took very little time. The metal-liquifying stylus made a short task of the less crafted materials of the slim sword, putting into it the same type of patterns he had inscribed upon the blade but in remarkably less time. Inserting the plaited silver wire and welding it into place in a semi-liquid state was again short work, thanks to his white-hot stylus. Another application of oil and he gingerly moved Victoria's sword to the counter near to her (with thick cloth as it was apparently still very hot) as she performed her ritual magic on the Constable's hammer. Though he said nothing, Jacques nodded with an amount of personal pride. This was one of his better works. [i](Skill Check: 24)[/i] The weapon was transformed from a quality but mundane utility cut & thrust sword in a style favored by Human craftsfolk, more likely to be seen on a battlefield than a dueling circle, into a nigh aristocratic tool of efficient stabwork. The lingering oils on the sword reflected the twinkling light of the lamp nearby to reveal a differently hued metal swirling and dancing within the greater amount of steel present, flush to its dimensions and notably darker toward the edges as if outlined with permanently oxidized argent. The style was breathtakingly similar to designs found on contemporary Elven jewelry, though not quite with their reported complexity and thread-thin lines. He was a mortal Human after all, versed in the style to a degree but without the centuries to practice. The lines and swirls made enchanting designs that bore similarities with both sheet music and organic, leaf bearing vines. One versed in such things might be able to discern more upon closer inspection. This was a piece of art. Before collecting any other weapons to work upon, Jacques addressed two points which Kathryn had made about their present situation. [color=darkgray]"Your knife, there,"[/color] he motioned to the dagger taken from the Goblins after their first skirmish, [color=darkgray]"wasn't made by any Goblin, nor Goblin-kin. I'd say Humans made it, and not too far off from where that young lady's rapier was forged. Or by a weaponsmith from there. I don't have a practiced eye for weapons and I can tell it's decent work."[/color] Jacques mumbled something to himself following this, shaking his head as if debating something to himself. [color=darkgray]"There's a couple of people in my family that found a talent for magic. Not me - can't cast a stitch - but I learned some things and gifting holidays were ...interesting... sometimes. Like my silver stylus, there. And..."[/color] He moved to the desk/table near the back door which held the book, skull, and what looked like they might have been alchemical or ritual supplies and opened a drawer. A felt bag was retrieved, from which he poured two [url=https://i.ibb.co/NSgwdJv/Oof-Sending-Stones.jpg]stones[/url] into his hand, one of which he set on the counter. [color=darkgray]"One of you hang onto that. This place is secure as any in town, but you're right, Cavendish might come back. Or he might send his cronies after me, or just burn my place down to the stones. If something happens, and you're still offering help, I'll send you a message through this."[/color] One stone he pocketed, then returned to his pot forge. [color=darkgray]"Axe and dagger next,"[/color] he said with a tired but determined voice. Jacques paused for a moment as Marita offered up her dagger, giving a glance down to her mace and then back up to meet her eyes. With a touch of hesitance, he managed to say, [color=darkgray]"Be a lot faster with your cudgel. But I'll do this if you want. Tell me if you change your mind."[/color] He set the blade down next to the others in line for silvering and got back to work. His tangent about the mace over, Jacques returned to the question of Kathryn wanting to learn about inlaying silver. [color=darkgray]"If you're already trained as a smith, I guess that you already know how to inlay a metal. Takes a [i]lot[/i] than the way I do it. You can see the technique I'm using with this, and it's only because of this item I have. Scrapes through forged metal like hot cheese. Heats small items malleable ready and quick, too. It's like cheating. If you want to learn how to work [i]silver[/i] specifically and learn the craft of a jeweler, then I might be able to help. Provided we both survive the next three nights and you can devote good time to learn from me. If you find me after, I'd be open to it."[/color] The Guard, now more obviously coming around, jerked against his constraints and let out a dull groan which he tried to stifle as best as possible. He failed miserably. Coming to full consciousness or nearabouts to it, Guard flinched and moved his head away from the sound of Kathryn's voice closeby. He audibly hissed but otherwise did not speak, neither to say anything in his defense nor answer the offer of food and water. Meanwhile, at the front of the building, a hesitant series of small knocks sounded from the main door. Behind it, a strained voice issued, [color=darkgray]"Um, Monsieur Mallard? ...Monsieur Mallard, your, ah, sign? Sign has fallen. Do you want me to put it back? May I come in, sir?"[/color] Another knock sounded, a little bolder this time.