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Description

Tormias Yvianne, Third Master of the Red Circle of the Order of the Crescent Moon was not an outgoing sort. He loved the royal city of Treinevin, but he found much of what intrigued many of his fellows to be quite boring. The politics and intrigues of the court and the nobility, the galas and balls, the constant background chatter of gossip, all of which were either to him as dull as dishwater or a troublesome bother. The works of magecraft, from the martial to the practical to the aesthetic and the collections of arcane lore were another matter entirely. He'd spent most of his five centuries in his workshop or one of the various libraries and common rooms where he could talk shop with his various colleagues. There were always new mysteries of to unravel and new challenges he was presented with. The latest of which had been a particular challenge, though one he had met.

He was reading up on reports on novel applications of Geomancy by the humans of the Southern Continent when there was a slight dimming of the lights which announced the arrival of a formal visitor. He got to his feet and opened the door. On the other side was a serious woman he'd come to know.

"Lady Beilvian." He said politely, Kailvei Beilvian had been his liaison to his majesty's government for the last few decades.

"Master Yvianne" she gave a slight bow "I ask that I might enter?" Like most servants of the High King she put a high importance of formality, normally Tormias would find this annoying but despite that he'd developed a good working relationship with her. She knew when he was on the right track, how to find the help he needed, how to nudge him back without fuss and she made an honest effort to understand at least the basics of what he was doing.

"Of course." He replied. She stepped over the threshold.

"By your last report this simple venture has reached it's conclusion?" There was just a touch of the sardonic in that sentence, his current assignment had taken two years. A not insubstantial time frame even for someone who might live to see his thousandth birthday.

"Yes, after plunging into the unknown filling up several codices, painstaking experimentation, consultation with specialists, false starts and delicate magecraft, I can safely say that I have achieved what the High King has required of me. Give me another example and I could get the work done in a fortnight at most."

Kailvei gave a nod of the head in acknowledgement. "May I see your finished work?"

"Certainly." Tormias said as he led her into a formerly locked chamber and lit a floating manalamp. On a table lay the object in question. When you saw it in person it was quite horrible, though Tormias had been working with it for some time.

"However they make this material, treating it like cloth or leather just won't work. What I came up with in short was based more on ceramic restoration and golemcraft than that. It was a delicate process, but i've contrived something which can mend itself from cuts, scrapes and abrasions, incorporating in new material. Yesterday I made some minor incisions on the left arm..." He held up the appendage "and there is now no sign of them. It will require occasional Mana infusion in the Coldlands, but that can easily be arranged and if she treats it as we'd treat our skin it should last for centuries."

"And the special feature you talked about?"

"I brought in a member of the Golemwright's guild for that and I've confirmed what I had surmised. It was a basic application of a secondary attribute, without place for a proper chem we could not do more than that."

"Nor would we want to. They possess incredible strength and such a move would cost us in the long run. There are subtler means of rebuke and this one falls within the stipulations of the boon."

"Of course. I was simply outlining the process. In any case we'd achieved the desired ends with more basic imprinting."

Kailvei grinned. Most people who saw it agreed that the thing on the table was horrible, a shockingly accurate simulacrum of a human skin with a uniform texture. A thing used by a member of the Central Committee of Infrastructure to resemble their subjects by literally putting on a pleasant face. Tormias thought so too when it first arrived two years ago, but in time it just became another item to work with. He had been tasked by the High King to fulfill a boon he'd extended to one of those strange beings, admittedly that was before they took the first opportunity to give up the fight against The Corrupted despite their nigh invulnerable fleet.

Royal Boons from the High Kingdom had been a useful tool of diplomacy for millennia. A useful lever to steer the realms of men and dwarves along the proper path. They had their limitations, of course. These gifts were never a sure-fire way of getting results and when the offer is extended and taken up the Throne was bound to try to fulfill it besides the most extreme circumstances. Even so, there was room for more subtle rebukes in creative interpretation for those which displeased the High King. A shimmering dress of shifting colors which turns vivid green when the user lies. The finest runic blade which is exceptional at cutting things, but one who's spell was always at least partially active which (among other things) made conventional scabbards useless. This one was more subtle, its effects less pronounced and it's potential for physical harm was remote. Enough for deniability in the face of inquiry but enough to convey the displeasure of the High King and help change Supernova's alien mind.

Tormias could appreciate the sentiment intellectually but not emotionally. To him the fact that he managed to meet and overcome this challenge was the real prize.

From the beginning

Previous- Infrastructure: Part Three Hundred and Sixteen

Next- Infrastructure: Part Three Hundred and Eighteen

Description

Tormias Yvianne, Third Master of the Red Circle of the Order of the Crescent Moon was not an outgoing sort. He loved the royal city of Treinevin, but he found much of what intrigued many of his fellows to be quite boring. The politics and intrigues of the court and the nobility, the galas and balls, the constant background chatter of gossip, all of which were either to him as dull as dishwater or a troublesome bother. The works of magecraft, from the martial to the practical to the aesthetic and the collections of arcane lore were another matter entirely. He'd spent most of his five centuries in his workshop or one of the various libraries and common rooms where he could talk shop with his various colleagues. There were always new mysteries of to unravel and new challenges he was presented with. The latest of which had been a particular challenge, though one he had met.

He was reading up on reports on novel applications of Geomancy by the humans of the Southern Continent when there was a slight dimming of the lights which announced the arrival of a formal visitor. He got to his feet and opened the door. On the other side was a serious woman he'd come to know.

"Lady Beilvian." He said politely, Kailvei Beilvian had been his liaison to his majesty's government for the last few decades.

"Master Yvianne" she gave a slight bow "I ask that I might enter?" Like most servants of the High King she put a high importance of formality, normally Tormias would find this annoying but despite that he'd developed a good working relationship with her. She knew when he was on the right track, how to find the help he needed, how to nudge him back without fuss and she made an honest effort to understand at least the basics of what he was doing.

"Of course." He replied. She stepped over the threshold.

"By your last report this simple venture has reached it's conclusion?" There was just a touch of the sardonic in that sentence, his current assignment had taken two years. A not insubstantial time frame even for someone who might live to see his thousandth birthday.

"Yes, after plunging into the unknown filling up several codices, painstaking experimentation, consultation with specialists, false starts and delicate magecraft, I can safely say that I have achieved what the High King has required of me. Give me another example and I could get the work done in a fortnight at most."

Kailvei gave a nod of the head in acknowledgement. "May I see your finished work?"

"Certainly." Tormias said as he led her into a formerly locked chamber and lit a floating manalamp. On a table lay the object in question. When you saw it in person it was quite horrible, though Tormias had been working with it for some time.

"However they make this material, treating it like cloth or leather just won't work. What I came up with in short was based more on ceramic restoration and golemcraft than that. It was a delicate process, but i've contrived something which can mend itself from cuts, scrapes and abrasions, incorporating in new material. Yesterday I made some minor incisions on the left arm..." He held up the appendage "and there is now no sign of them. It will require occasional Mana infusion in the Coldlands, but that can easily be arranged and if she treats it as we'd treat our skin it should last for centuries."

"And the special feature you talked about?"

"I brought in a member of the Golemwright's guild for that and I've confirmed what I had surmised. It was a basic application of a secondary attribute, without place for a proper chem we could not do more than that."

"Nor would we want to. They possess incredible strength and such a move would cost us in the long run. There are subtler means of rebuke and this one falls within the stipulations of the boon."

"Of course. I was simply outlining the process. In any case we'd achieved the desired ends with more basic imprinting."

Kailvei grinned. Most people who saw it agreed that the thing on the table was horrible, a shockingly accurate simulacrum of a human skin with a uniform texture. A thing used by a member of the Central Committee of Infrastructure to resemble their subjects by literally putting on a pleasant face. Tormias thought so too when it first arrived two years ago, but in time it just became another item to work with. He had been tasked by the High King to fulfill a boon he'd extended to one of those strange beings, admittedly that was before they took the first opportunity to give up the fight against The Corrupted despite their nigh invulnerable fleet.

Royal Boons from the High Kingdom had been a useful tool of diplomacy for millennia. A useful lever to steer the realms of men and dwarves along the proper path. They had their limitations, of course. These gifts were never a sure-fire way of getting results and when the offer is extended and taken up the Throne was bound to try to fulfill it besides the most extreme circumstances. Even so, there was room for more subtle rebukes in creative interpretation for those which displeased the High King. A shimmering dress of shifting colors which turns vivid green when the user lies. The finest runic blade which is exceptional at cutting things, but one who's spell was always at least partially active which (among other things) made conventional scabbards useless. This one was more subtle, its effects less pronounced and it's potential for physical harm was remote. Enough for deniability in the face of inquiry but enough to convey the displeasure of the High King and help change Supernova's alien mind.

Tormias could appreciate the sentiment intellectually but not emotionally. To him the fact that he managed to meet and overcome this challenge was the real prize.

From the beginning

Previous- Infrastructure: Part Three Hundred and Sixteen

Next- Infrastructure: Part Three Hundred and Eighteen