hearthwarming: (062)
𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐡𝐢 🌼 ([personal profile] hearthwarming) wrote2021-11-04 10:28 pm
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luciing: (s010)

[personal profile] luciing 2022-12-02 02:12 am (UTC)(link)
[ He appears to watch her as she voices her thoughts aloud. Although this may be his smithy, she is the one with much more magical prowess. It behooves him to pay attention. ]

Dreamotion, you say... [ His hollowed voice drifts into a pensive moment of his own, although his own is silent. The gentle crackle of coal beneath the kiln is the only sound that marks the time passing. ]

Do you believe the enchantment would require... more finesse, then?
luciing: (s013)

1/2

[personal profile] luciing 2022-12-03 08:27 pm (UTC)(link)
[ At the mention of harvesting flora or fauna for their magical properties, his helm tilts towards the broken vial on the counter. They needn't even go about finding another magical material somewhere when he can produce said magical property on his own. This may make it easier for them: perhaps it's some matter of transitive alchemy, transferring the property from one thing to the other.

But as she said, that is for another time. Somnus turns his helm back to regard her. ]


Very well. [ "Finesse", it is. And finesse it will be, when he sheds his cumbersome armor.

A glow lifts from the ornamental metal he wears, blinking into tiny, crystalline particles that shimmer and then wink out from existence. No sound accompanies the pulse of magic that causes his form to waver, the power silently suffusing about his armor, causing it slowly dissipate... ]
luciing: (pic#15179715)

[personal profile] luciing 2022-12-03 08:30 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Now another figure stands before her, one that's not quite solid as the one before, human in appearance but pale as the stars. A muted, misty glow radiates from his form, cold and untouched by the warm, amber light of the smithy around them.

Heavy, antiquated robes rustle as a hand emerges from them, extending over the counter. Dreamotion gives it further form, becoming more solid in the moment. Of the items gathered on the workbench, he selects the ore, turning it over upon his palm and testing its weight.

Then, his gaze falls upon her. His expression is no longer of metal, but stone: focused, grim, and severe. ]


Your hand, young tiefling.

[ While his voice lacks the characteristic hollowness from being encased in metal, it carries the same focused cadence, the same deep pitch from before. The refined steel with which he speaks belongs to none other than Somnus. ]