Reforging A Will of Steel

Why….?

The infernal question rang from her head. Depriving her any of the peace she desired in her attempts to venture down into morpheus’ realm. Bright ruby tinted orbs stared at the lone darkened ceiling. Covered by the unmistakable dimness of the night. Why had she offered him her help for his sword? The question rang again as she laid on the bed. Listlessly in quiet contemplation. The unwilling roommate already fell to sleep’s embrace. Lazily moving her head to glance at the aforementioned body on the other bed. The shadows casting a silhouette over the figure covered in blankets before she veered her attention back at the ceiling.

As though the ceiling held all the answers for her when it fact it didn’t. She was just trying to find a reason to dignify her reasons for staring at it. There was none of course. Just her waging war with the torrent of her restless mind. The thought plaguing her into the wee hours of the night after she returned from delivering her small missive to the man’s doorway. Sliding it into the tiny slit underneath the door before turning off and returning to the chambers she shared with Cassialyn.

Her own actions, caused nothing but confused her more than she already did. She barely knew him, and now she was offering him aid in repairing the lone mismatched metallic menace he called a sword. She had seen it up close more than a few times. Safe to say, the inner blacksmith in her screamed in horror. The sword he wielded, was what every blacksmith calls their worse nightmare come alive. A mix between metals that goes against every law of metallurgy known to man. Metals that by no means were beyond compatible with one another and was known never to bond well was mashed into the concoction. A shiver actually ran down her spine recalling the sword’s appearance.
Rarely anything fazes her now a days but that sword… that thrice damned sword had been murdering the blacksmith soul she held goading it just by staring at it’s presence. So when it broke, she can honestly say it was a long time coming. In the art of metallurgy a practitioner needs to make sure the metals she or he would be combining into creation were compatible. Incompatible metals affected the strength and overall durability of the weapon. Unless of course it’s to use it as a mere design even then they had to be careful not to let it mix into the main body itself. That would be disastrous.

So the question… was still going back to the first. Just why. Why help him when he was the cause of her being trapped here. The answer really lied with what happened after it. He took responsible for it, offering her room and board when really he shouldn’t, she had asked the Nu mou, trying to figure out how much she owed when he mentioned Dieter was paying for it. That… didn’t sit well with her. The girl prided herself for her independence and her reluctance to asking for help when she knew she needed it. That’s exactly what Ryan’s been trying to beat out of her. He hadn’t succeeded yet that was certain. The girl mused, giving up any attempts for sleep to take over as she propped herself up on her shoulders. Letting her bed covers slid off from her tiny frame as she sat up. Dressed in a loose sleeveless camise. The top half snuggly covering her chest area the same way a tube top would before the rest of the fabric loosely flowed on the bottom half of the tunic. To match it all up was a pair of shorts the hem having small frills stitched at the ends.

It wasn’t much in terms of nightclothes but when it came to trying to sleep in Limsa’s climate she found it a necessity rather than submit herself to the normal sleeping tunics most tend to wear back home. It was the only pair of sleeping clothes she had on her…. Soo rather than sleep in her armor or her other clothes she just opted to use it.

A knock sounded from the door, rousing her out of her reverie. Blood red eyes glinted the darkness soon found themselves moving to the door. A few more knocks before she dared lift her body of the comforts of the bed. ”Who could that be this late?” She thought. Half distracted. A curious glance fell over her roommate’s sleeping form. Thank god it didn’t woke her up. She really didn’t want to get into an argument with her. If you call her being the one screaming half the time. But technicalities. Rising out of her bed the girl softly padded her way towards the door, her hand lightly turning the knob as the hinges gave a long suffering moan as she pushed it open, peering outside to see the same guy he had just dropped the note to half an hour prior. Or was it an hour ago? Covering her mouth to dull out a yawn she stared at him with the same disinterest façade he grew used to. “Yes?....”

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Horror was putting it too plainly. Like downplaying the after effects a chimaera stomping around a city square and ignoring the due damage as nothing more than a few rubble misplaced. His sword… dare she called it that was an epitome of what happens should someone fuck with the logic known as metallurgy. A miracle in own right that it lasted its way out of its first battle without crumbling into chucks of metal the second it clashes with another blade. It was a mystery Ivy felt she needed more sanity before she faced it.

Sanity she didn’t have in her right now. The rest of it was trying to keep her from imploding at her situation which… she was slowly accepting not that she voiced it out, or showed it out of her poker faced expression that never seem to leave the girl’s face. To the others the girl only had a few set of expressions, doll like emotionless mask akin to a damn wall. Or the annoyed expressions which normally presented itself to Cassialyn or… the other more awkward discomfort when the damned woman threw her straight into a thicket of children. Not the small ones around five summers old… worse,

The dancer had the gall to toss her to deal with people her age. Teenagers people just nearly their way out from childhood and into the more responsible phase of a young adult. Ivy…did not do well with people her age. She never even had to deal with them much! During her childhood she was surrounded by adults if none at all as Fray rarely stayed in one place enough for her to wander off. Not that she dared do so… every attempt the man did to try and get her to play with children as a child were meet with disaster or failure, so he stopped. And she was content to just stay either around him or Sid. And the grumpy Au ra never bothered kicking her off to play either. Less trouble to have to look for her.

So… needless to say, she was like a fish out of water. It was an experience she would kill the first person who blabbed it out to her fellow dark knight. She really… didn’t need anymore laughter coming her way at her expense. A silent brow rose, watching the man’s rapid reaction when his eyes caught her before he averted it? Confusion settled in before a voice calmly explained to the confused girl as to why the guy looked slightly if not, discomforted. Was it something on her face? Or he hasn’t seen someone walk out in her sleep wear before. Apparently it was the second, oh great… How unfortunate the girl infront of him doesn’t know the term shame when it comes to her state of dress.
The eyebrow remained chucked up high when he started speaking. So he found the note, she mused half amused by how quick he found it when she thought he was asleep and the other half annoyed that the bastard hadn’t waited till morning.

Oh well what’s done was done. Tilting her head slightly to the side she glanced directly to the box in his hand. It didn’t take much for her to figure out where the pieces were before she settled on a few words as an answer. “It’s not the question of ‘can’ its how much of it is salvageable.” She intoned, her soft voice finally making itself known as she sent him a minor glare, the blacksmith in her eyeing him in annoyance. It wanted nothing more than to throttle the man infront of her for bastarding her chosen specialist but withheld from it. Ivonne was still willing to help no matter how daunting the task infront of her was. “Seeing as how you practically tossed away the notion of maintenance and by weekly repairs on it… I would…seriously be tempted to toss you straight into a forge for that abuse to a blade.” A vein slightly pulsed on her forehead, scolding the man infront of her despite the lone fact he was a senior dark knight. A person with a lot more experience than she’ll ever have not to mention… doesn’t it look funny to see a child scolding someone whos clearly a few years her senior? The irony was lost to her. “But…” She said with a sigh only pausing to finally calm herself. “I can take a look… You’re damn lucky the person you’re talking to is a blacksmith specialist….”

Dieter Wolfram

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To be truthful, to spew out half truths with half of them useless jumbled crap he would be hard pressed to decipher or crush any sort of hope he still had in hidden somewhere in there that his sword would be returned to him in one piece. That was a funny, she snorted, mentally holding back the temptation to toss a few sarcastic remarks after she heard his query. He was pressing it, trying to ascertain if she could actually fix the lump of metal the metallurgy gods clearly forsaken. It was… an epitome of a bastardation of her profession. It fucked with the laws of metallurgy. You do not fuck with those precious few laws. It’s just not done! Clearly she was in the wrong.

It had been done, she was looking at the proof of what people in her profession called. A metal disaster, she wasn’t surprise hearing his latest comment on the other blacksmith he approached showing them their ire at him presenting this… mess towards them. Heck she was sure this is the blade that would render even Gerolt stone cold drunk just to forget he ever saw something so… horrifying. She was being dramatic wasn’t she? Ivonne was merely being truthful. Blunt truthful, still truthful none the less. She had already offered to help him knowing full well what kind of a challenge… a mindboggling one to test the limits of her own sanity, she’s already tossing to herself by giving him that offer. She cant back out of it now, even she held her reservations she’d be able to fully fix it…

’Where’s that drunk blacksmith when you damn need him?... She thought, musing out half amused by the thought of the man’s reactions if he ever saw Dieter’s blade. Which… might be in the near future. The near future Dieter would have to face the man’s direct ire. It’s not something she’s willing to put someone through… but Dieter’s a special case she’s willing to overlook. He might forgive her when he gets his own anima? Oh who was she kidding, she really didn’t give a damn if he does get over his irritation. He’ll have to suck it up if he wanted his sword to be repaired.

“Fifty percent….” She went for the blunt truth, tentatively picking up one of the shards with her unprotected hand, a few of the jagged edges nicked her skin which she only clicked her tongue in mild annoyance as the broken sharp pieces cut through her skin. The rough patches where bits of lumped up metal that refused to merge with the steel showed on the surface, turning her frown straight into a scowl. “See here…?” She said, ignoring the rusted portions of the blade. “See the lumps of green or miscolored metal? It’s a sign that metal didn’t merge well… some metals aren’t compatible with others… your blade is a clear conundrum of every law metallurgy has. Very important laws that affects the finish product. Think of it like oil and water, completely impossible to mix…. The metal would have to be purged to even have anything to work with or…for me to have an exact estimation on how much of it I can save…. Then there’s the question of forging a new host to put it into…”

She mumbled… half the rest of her sentence she mumbled to herself, bits of jargon that might sound confusing to someone who hasn’t touched the art of smithing. “Unless… I soak it in Alembry…to help purify it… that might increase the amount of what I can salvage from it…” What the hell was she talking about? Just an elixir most well known to most smiths back in her homeland. Well known as equally as expensive if not costing around an arm and a leg in price. Alembry was a potion notorious for being hard to come by as it was both hard to make and the materials needed for it doesn’t exactly grow on trees unless there was an allagan ruin around here…. But smiths swear by the stuff, it was…mostly considered as a last resort to them. "....Any allagan ruins in the near?"

Dieter Wolfram

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A measly fifty percent she wasn’t so sure of yet. It was at best the very basic of estimations. A rough draft to a sketch she has yet to begin with. Without dousing it first in Alembry she was sure just HOW much of it she can salvage. It could be more or less, though she’s looking at the more part once she gets her hands on the tonic. Getting her hands on it though, is another entity entirely. Not only was it a pain to brew but the materials… Allagan catalyst grounded finely into dust… she cringed.

CRINGED. The girl actually physically cringed from the very idea of how she has to obtain said ingredient. What’s worse… was Dieter’s response to her simple question of where the nearest allagan ruin was.

He didn’t know what an allagan ruin was… this didn’t bode well for his sword. The girl stared at him for a few seconds. At first waiting for the tell tale signs of him fooling around. But the man’s puzzled expressions didn’t change.

Then it dawned on her the man was completely and absolutely serious, Ivonne had hoped there were a few more similarities aside from having the same name for their currency and a town alive but was a ruin back in her home universe. Guess she was wrong… guess this is where the similarities ended aside from the desert climate nearly being the exact copy of both Gyr Abania’s dry climes and Thanalan’s dusty deserts… They were both hot, both annoyingly so.
Though… one had to understand this is coming from a girl who spent nearly her entire small life in a frozen tundra such a Coerthas… of course she’ll be complaining when she’s been so used to ice and snow. Abandoning the thought, the girl let out a small sigh at the man’s question. “Well…. This just gotten complicated…” She grumbled softly.
Muttering a few soft curses under her tone, a few foreign ones he probably never heard off. Sidd and Ryan….were a veritable treasure trove when it came to different explicitives and their numerous uses. Hanging around near them so often the girl’s bound to pick up a few of their colourful uses. “It’s…. a former ancient civilization back… in Hydaelyn… They were once hailed for being the most technologically advance than all other current civilizations to come after it… so much so that the garlean empire descended from them…Thankfully only half as advance as their ancestors or… let’s just say their current quest to conquer the entire realm would have ended a lot differently…aside from their stupidity in breaking Bahamut’s moon prison…. And causing the disaster known as the calamity….”

She explained briefly, offering him small quick draft of the history back at her home world. “But still… some of their creations even today are still being use… figuring you first manage to pry it from one of their ruins… There’s a substance called ‘Allagan catalyst.’ Its… the prime ingredient to that tonic I told you about… that may be able to save more than fifty percent from your sword…” She finally explained. Though her explaining what Alembry was… was going to take longer than she wished. The damn thing was a miracle worker but hell understanding its uses was just massive headache. Right next to crafting the damn thing.

“And no… leave the crystal alone… if I’m right…we can use it as a cheat later on… It did swallow up all those souls didn’t it?” She queried. Normally there was no shortcuts in crafting animas but…. That much souls should be worth at the very least half of the needed six crystals maybe more considering how large the amount of souls went into that thing.

Still beats going around on a murdering rampage around certain aether rich areas within dravania… She really REALLY hated looking for battlefields within those lands… “Unfortunately for you… as you guess… I don’t have any on hand…” Too much talking… way too much, she missed the days where she could merely ignore a person and just speak when she’s needed to speak. Or use signals… but Dammit her current situation simply didn’t allow her the chance. Reverting back to her old self would… just be counter productive… so for now she was stuck actually using her own voice.

“That…. At around 900,000 a pop well you can guess why I don’t exactly bother.” She was not lying though she could have refrained from telling him just exactly how much it sells for back home… Well consider it as a small part of the child that still has a trolling soul hiding somewhere in there. She honestly just wanted to see his reaction.

Dieter Wolfram

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At least he didn’t scream. Oh thank the twelve he didn’t loudly proclaim his surprise. Ivonne wasn’t sure she could handle him being so closely similar to Ryan’s personality… Him possessing his… massive lungs as well? Hell no. She has enough stuff wrecking chaos with the small remnants of sanity she has left thank you very much. Anymore and she doubt not even her saintly patience would… survive. She hasn’t snapped yet…

Actually… the girl pulled the thought back. Scratching out a few of the words and replacing them to fit her rewording the unspoken sentence that settled on her mind. Yet… Yet being the keyword. She snapped once, she would rather avoid having to viciously maul another soul again. Blood was a bitch to get out of clothing not that she’s complaining. It was…just a bit of a hassle hiding bodies. Oh… there goes the morbid side of her. Overshadowing her attempts to fix the puzzle known as Dieter’s blade. Every now and again adding its own input via well worded comments reminding of that incident.

Really… who was the real monster here…The girl wondered, the one who’s seeped in dark humour she’s willing enough to joke around eviscerating someone or… the well mannered dark knight who…was a demon once he steps into the battlefield. Another food for thought, she mused at the back of her mind. “Surprising isn’t it?” She quipped. Watching his lips curl into a scowl once the price tag settled on his head. There was a way past it, one would be to know how to make the damn thing and the second would… be to fetch ingredients themselves. Which… was easier said if one of the materials didn’t involve them delving into a ruin… A ruin with creatures all too happy to rip into them. Well… no one ever said crafting unique weaponry was an easy road… As the elders often say, ‘if you want something, you damn work for it.’ He’s about to experience… the two month long hell she had to go through to create Bloodthorn. Maybe that’ll give him some incentive to learn how to maintain his damn blade. She groused underneath her breath. “I can make it… just need the catalyst… I think I have the others somewhere in storage….” She muttered after awhile, mentally doing a headcount on just what she had in there… but she wasn’t so sure. She had to check it personally before she makes any real comment on it.

And if she doesn’t, well she knew well enough where to collect them. “Though still doesn’t solve the problem of how… to get it… Since that would mean taking a trip to Hydaelyn…and didn’t you mention there’s no anchors connecting to it at the moment?...” It wasn’t much of a question more as a statement of the fact they didn’t have a way to get to her homeworld just yet…

Dieter Wolfram

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