Rest Interludes

Elysia, happy to be helpful, gives the elf a small smile before slipping upstairs and finding a jar of it behind the counter, bringing it back down and handing it over, secretly content to further solidify a friend in her life outside of her sister.

Adran plops down in their little shelter, for all of about five minutes. It doesn't take long before he's fiddling with the hand crossbow, which leads to him inspecting his surroundings quite thoroughly. He grabs a pair of vials, emptying them and cleaning them out with a piece of old leather and a bit of water. Once they're clean enough, he delicately pours the contents of his jug into them. Stoppering them, he slips them into a belt pouch as he removes his thieves tools and begins mucking about with the odds and ends of discarded or surplus tools found in this basement. After an hour's time, the tools look different... cobbled together in a way that reminds anyone watching of tools found at a forge.

Adran begins by fiddling with the hand crossbow, chanting quietly as he makes adjustments and reworks the limbs using small gears out of the clockwork pieces he was cannibalizing so they lay flat against the sides when not in use. After some fine tuning and reaching a point where he seems quite happy with its performance, he sets it down and turns his attention to the pair of shields and other items, spreading them out on the floor in front of him. A spear, daggers, more gears and springs...

He picks up a stray gear and fiddles with it, chuckling to himself in amusement before setting it aside.

And then, he refocuses on all of the scavenged gear before him as his mind starts assessing the gathered potential. It takes a bit for him to get started, slowly working through the planning stage of what was to come next. Using the makeshift hammer, and starting with one of the shields, Adran begins to chant. It's quiet, mostly under his breath, but the speed at which he chants increases at a slow but steady pace. And then, he begins hammering. The hammer strikes are loud, but not as loud as one might expect. At first it appears that nothing is happening, and the hammering is just an annoyance. However, as the chanting speeds up, the air around Adran grows hazy. The closer anyone gets to him, the warmer it feels... and it gets hotter as he chants faster.

And then, the hammer strike makes sparks and the shield begins to curve.

As he works, he drips with sweat as the blows from his hammer reverberate in the basement. A shield becomes half of a torso, the second shield completing the body. Pieces of daggers are broken off and formed into the claws on each of four paws. Adran glances around fervently as he works, and as his companions offer up pieces of their own his eyes instantly assess the potential of the offered bit or bob. The fan is hastily disassembled, the iridescent material being used as part of the mouth -- cheeks, if you will -- while the spines are fashioned into teeth. The rank insignia is embedded in the front left shoulder, clearly noticable and offering an impression of authority and subtle menace. Feeling his own sister's power, the metal spheres that hold the place of this construct's eyes begin to glow with moonlight. Hours pass, and Adran works diligently, hammering tirelessly on his construct as heat radiates off of his body.

Finally, he begins to slow. Hammering stops. Adran cuts pieces of leather, affixing them as pads on the paws of his new companionto muffle its steps. He also seems to have built a small empty area, accessible with a hidden hatch underneath, which he lines with leather as well, even a bit of fur.

Once he is completely finished, Adran collapses and falls asleep almost immediately.

Eozindra watches with interest as Adran dismantles, reconfigures, deconstructs, and rebuilds all the scavenged pieces into something entirely new. Though she is no stranger to arts of creation, this particular form of physical piecework is new to her and quite curious. Her initial shock in watching her contribution be dismantled is rapidly replaced by warm admiration for the potential she had not seen in the simple scrap object.

As the evening creeps on, she pulls her lyre from her pack and plays quiet lullaby melodies to ease the group’s nerves. She is conscientious of the volume at which she plays, using a soft touch to keep her tune to a breathy whisper. With an appreciative glance to her own sibling, Eozindra sends over a smile full of childlike exuberance at the expanded social circle they have fallen into. Whatever dangers they may be ahead, the little pale bard cannot help but find only joy in the bonds being formed among this strange group of acquaintances-turned-adventurers.

Intrigued by a bit of magical engineering she'd never seen before, Elysia sits nearby to watch him work in utter fascination as well. When he's done with his creation, she gapes slightly in shock of how amazing the metal creature looks. For a moment, she's alarmed at the sudden drop of Adran falling into slumber, but after realizing it's not more serious, her focus goes back to the Steel Defender. Cautiously, she reaches over with a wider smile than she usually wears to give it some rubs, despite its lack of fur. "I know not what your creator will call you, but I shall think of you as Cobalt for you remind me of the stone."

From there, she's pleased to share in the grin her sister casts her as she bounces her foot to the music that Zin creates. She hides a lot of her desires, partly a biproduct of her environment growing up and partly her nerves still to fully trust the group, but she can't help but feel the same joy around making new friends. She'd never forsake the bond she shares with her sibling, but she secretly longs for more companionship. She's used to feeling a necessary divide between herself and others, and for once, she wants to remove that barrier; even if it's a slow process.

After finishing his trance and letting his sister take the stool, Adran will talk with these outcasts a bit, and explain what an Artificer does before showing them Mara. He will also offer to repair and clean things for them.

Elowin needs some space in her head to deal with this confined space. She clears a space and changes into her light dress. Then she begines to dance. One of the tieflings finds an instrument and plays a quiet tune trying to match her dance. They meet each other in their art and both of them just are.
There is no deformity in the music, no judgement in dance, just the feeling of being alive. Sadness, joy, loneliness, desire, all gets protraid by these two artists.

As they both wind down they realizes that they have gathered a small crowd. Elowin just smiles and thanks the musician.

ishi learned the basics of elvish trance when he was a young child, before he was abducted by the orcs. but he didn't do it every night and he usually had to pretend to sleep while he meditated
he had beeb watching the elves in the party, but he was too shy to ask them about it,

With all the grace and cordiality of her upbringing, Eozindra accepts the proffered box with demure appreciation. The pale of her cheeks flushes a light pink as she seats herself and acknowledges the abundance of decorum Digger has directed to her. "Most generous, kind sir."

As the evening continues, the bard performs some music for the entertainment of the subterranean tenants, regals with stories from her repertoire of epic poetries, and courteously attends to the tales shared by the locals. She eagerly listens to any information shared about the underground territory, the dangerous therein, and the mysterious political structure beneath the city streets.

Never does the bard show any indication of noticing the physical differences of their hosts; she attends each individual who approaches her with the same enthusiasm and courtesy she had shown the nobles at court. Elysia may notice she actually seem to express a more genuine interest and kindness to this group of strangers. Away from the faux friendliness of formal social games, Eozindra is overjoyed to be in discourse with people expressing their truest selves. The company of others being honest and real is a refreshing experience for the once-cloistered half-elf. She thoroughly enjoys the time spent with the tieflings.

When the time comes, she rests peacefully beside her sister, knowing that the full-elven siblings have a handle on keeping watch through the night with their shorter rest requirements.

Seeing the blush on her sister’s cheeks, she can’t resist leaning toward her ear and whispering, "Get ‘em, Zus." The deepening of the pink on Zin’s face makes a genuine laugh escape. She’s around a group of companions she trusts and the tenants are giving her the same vibe. Maybe it’s because she can see her older sister in them, in that they are different than most of society appears, yet just like others inside. She doesn’t examine the depth of the feeling, just enjoys finally relaxing for once. Keeping up with being essentially on the run means she keeps alert for anyone who might recognize them for the noble blood they are, but here, she feels the joyous environment is a place she doesn’t have to keep even partially on guard.

Seeing Eozindra relax as well lightens her heart and further settles her into the moment. She eagerly converses with everyone, party and resident alike, eager to be social like she rarely gets to be. She shares jokes and laughs without restraint, not feeling the need to hide or blend in. She shares a full, happy smile with everyone as the thought that this rest here was just as good for her own sake as it was for her sister, and possibly the others.

When she bunks down for her short sleep, the thought going through her head as she fades off is how she thinks, despite the short time knowing them, this is a group she can let loose with and trust to watch her and her sister’s back. While she isn’t yet considering telling them of their blood relation, she is trusting them now to care for her like she would.

Tell me Eozindra, what brought you down here?