"Well, 'f by important, you mean soldiers of the Empire, then they might've been important. And we helped destroy a slave camp." Tsakua muses. "So no, not really anyone important, I'd say." he finishes with a grin.
Reaching back to the conversation at hand, Tskaua suggests "mightn't hurt t'send a scoutin' party ahead, with some sorta signal of sorts. It'd be good t'have the lay of the land afore we start tryin' to settle it."
Breewyn nods in agreement as she steps closer to tsakua. She doesn't speak to the newcomer very much, if at all.
Toyer scampers up to the newcomer, crouches down and begins circling him in a stealth-like manner.
I would offer my services, I'm not the most silent but I can move unseen fairly well when needed. He joins the few talking after a morning routine
-I'm... not good at scouting.
Ishak looked pointedly at the group, "Twelve days, remember, that's when the enemy will arrive. But now we got undead to worry about as well." He huffed as he looked at the surrounding camp and those who decided to stay around. "I'm staying at camp. If those need help enchants, I can help." He paused and mused over his thoughts for a moment.
"Those who stay, we could look at the armory, see if we could make it new camp, better camp." He looked back at the other camp dwellers and began giving directions, "Lets get things here packed and ready to go when we find new spot."
"Thomen. We might have materials to make some defense weapons, if you can. Maybe be best at new place? It has a good roof. Make skills useful!"
Octavian would agree to help the Tengu with his modifications to his gear and weapons. He'd follow Pazeek to his makeshift workbench and begin examining the gear he would like to improve, "In what way would you like these improved?"
"It'd be good t'have a backup site, jus' in case," Tsakua says thoughtfully. "'Sides, far as I c'n remember, that armory had only one way in an' out. Ye'd best plan on lookin' fer an escape route when y'get there."
Standing, Tsakua starts getting some supplies ready to head out.
He looks at the chain shirt lying elsewhere on the bench with an expression that somehow blends pride and disappointment. "If I'm going to be aiding you lot in your quest, whatever it ultimately is, I'm going to need to improve my gear all around. And my existing armor, while of good quality--I should know, I made it myself--just isn't protection enough. On the other hand," Pazeek continues with a nod at the breastplate. "This is a bit too cumbersome as it currently is, and we don't have the facilities to simply forge the mithral straight into the armor I'd like."
Turning his gaze back to Octavian, Pazeek tilts his head to one side with a questioning expression. "I'v also got some questions about some rather odd knowledge I've inexplicably acquired. Somehow, and I believe that strange burst of energy I encountered in the forest is responsible for this-among other things--I have the knowledge of how to infuse items with magical energy. Even create new items entirely." Pazeek's expression sours somewhat. "However, having this knowledge in my head is not the same as actually knowing how to use it. It's rather like you waking up one morning to find you know how to track, against my years of actual experience, if that clarifies things any."
Toyer hefts his fauchard over his shoulder and grins at Ilya before hunkering down into a stance optimal for sneaking around taking off in the direction Ilya indicates.
The wizard leans his staff against the wall and picks up the breast plate in his hands. He turned it over and viewed it with a critical eye, spotting the faults that had slithered their way into the metal. While he scanned the breastplate the wizard began to speak without looking at Pazeek. "I know this energy you speak of. When I recovered after the Awakening I found new, impossible ideas spinning through my head. Swords that shoot beams of fire. Cloaks that turn into wings or sheathe the wearer in lightning. Crystals that pierce the veil between dimensions. Rings that make a thousand miles shrink down to one foot step. The possibilities are limitless."
Octavian placed the breastplate down on the shelf and nodded to himself. "I can modify all of your gear should you want. Give me a few minutes to study and I will proceed." he said to the tengu before moving over to the discussion near the fire. He was silent for several minutes as he listened to ideas bouncing back and forth before finally speaking up. "Did anyone go into that tower and look around? Was is structurally sound? While the armoury is quite sound it had no windows and was all on one level. If you remember there is also a huge open space right next to it which is very difficult to defend with the supplies we have. Plus...." the wizard faltered for a moment, realizing that the scrolls in his bag had only been read by the wizard himself. "Plus that's exactly where they will start their search. This isn't a standard occupation force they are sending in, it's a much smaller group whose intentions are to seek and obtain. They are coming here for the gem which empowered us but we've already absorbed all of it's power. If the tower proves to be stable enough for us to move in and make it more so I believe that is the best tactical option. It provides our snipers with unparalleled killing ground and field of vision. Hopefully we will not have another ambush like last night."
Breewyn heard Octavian speaking, and when he finally finished she gave a little shiver. She didn't like the undead, even moreso. She noticed the little band that was going to set out and scout and she gave a little wave. "Good luck guys, we hope you are successful and may you have a swift return!" She managed to call out before she went about finding things to keep her mind occupied. Anything to keep it from being idle or the 'dark thoughts' from slowly creeping into her consciousness.
While Octavian briefly moves off to offer his advice to the scouting team, Pazeek stares thoughtfully at the materials laid out before him, mind flitting from one idea to the next. Much of what he comes up is discarded due to lack of materials or tools to make use of, or his unwillingness to waste what the camp does have available on his inexperienced fumbling. His musing is interrupted by the sound of Breewyn's voice, and Pazeek glances over in her direction to catch her unhappy expression, which reminds him of his self-appointed goal of cheering the gnome up in some small way.
With that thought in mind, and Octavian still a bit occupied with other matters, Pazeek decides he can spare some time to try getting a smile--or possibly even an actual laugh--out of her. Checking himself over to make sure that his feathers are in good order, he saunters over to her with cheerful spring in his step. "And a good morning to you, my favorite healer. I was wondering if you had the time to continue our interrupted discussion from yesterday," the tengu says with a teasing lilt to his voice. Spreading his arms out slightly, he then does a slow turn to show off his plumage. "As you can plainly see, there's no armor to interfere with your examination today, nor are we pressed for time. So you can explore, er, examine to your heart's content. Purely to ensure that I am in good health, of course," he adds with flirtatious ruffle of his feathers.
Leaning in a bit toward the now-flustered gnome, he murmurs in a quieter voice. "Mind, Breewyn, that I mean nothing hurtful or cruel by my teasing. But you are, for the time being at least, one of my allies if not a yet a friend. And so it troubles me to see you so clearly unhappy, since good morale is just as critical to a healthy camp as proper food and skilled healing." Leaning back with a shrug, Pazeek continues in the same quiet voice. "I'm no healer of the mind, so I can't help you that way. And my attempts at jokes are so foul that even scavengers won't touch them. So I'm left with only my natural charm and attactiveness to work with, which never seems to fail at drawing some appreciative laughs from the fairer sex."
Breewyn jumps a bit, surprised by Pazeek and trying to stammer out a response before he launches into his usual teasing. She flushed deeply, unable to even tell him off, but the color drained some as he spoke of her mood, trying to cheer her up. She knew that deep down he meant well, even if he was a dirty bird at times.
She let out a sigh, looking up to him with her sleepless-looking, ringed eyes that always marked her face making her look far more tired and exhausted despite her easy-going demeanor. "I don't suppose anything gets past you, eh?" She quietly replied, as she went about her physical upon his person. She wasn't too familiar with his kind, but she did know enough to tell whether he was still injured or not.
Satisfied with her examination, she stepped back before addressing him again. "You appear to be in fine health to me." She gave him a bit of a weak smile, before she whispered, "Thanks for caring."
Tsakua takes a minute to get directions to the tower from members of the scouting party. Returning to Ilya, he says "When ye're ready, ye can begin heading to th' tower. We'll be with ye in th'shadows till we arrive."
Turning, Tsakua follows Toyer into the brush.
As the scouting party moves out to further explore the possible new location Octavian sits down next to the fire and swings his every present bag around to his lap. He quickly retrieved his spellbook and writing utensils before frowning at the quality of the quill. The writing device was well beyond it's normal life span and even his extremely careful ministrations were beginning to wear it down. He glanced over at Pazeek and pursed his lips in thought as he stared as the well oiled and strong black feathers that covered the warrior. It took him only a moment to decide before he leaned back and called out "Pazeek! If you wouldn't mind, I have a request for you. It's somewhat personal so could you come over here?"
Pazeek bows extravagently at the waist to Breewyn once she's finished looking him over, chuckling softly as he does so. "You are, of course, quite welcome. And thank you for your excellent care and skill in the healer's art." Hearing Octavian's call, he glances over and nods in response, then returns his attention to Breewyn for a moment. "If you ever want to just talk, I am available." Then, leaning in close to brush her right cheek with his beak, he continues. "And though I made the offer mostly for the sake of amusing you, if you ever want to do more than talk, I'm very available," he finishes for her ears alone. With another chuckle, this one accompanied by a playful wink, he turns and leaves to join Octavian at the fire, wondering what the fellow could possibly need of him that would qualify as personal.
Taking a seat, Pazeek gazes at Octavian with a curious tilt to his head. "And what can I do for you, that you believe it to be a personal matter?" He can't figure out what Octavian's request could involve, though he hopes it isn't about his well-meant teasing of Breewyn. He certainly has no intention of hurting her, and is quite prepared to both explain and defend his actions to Octavian if need be. However, Pazeek learned as a rather mischievous hatchling to let others do the talking in circumstances like this. After all, it could be an entirely unrelated matter, in which case volunteering a confession to something the other party may not be aware of yet is rather foolish.
The wizard was silent for a moment, one finger tapping on his knee. "I do have a cost for the upgrades to your gear. I will require three of your feathers, each one about this long." he said quietly, holding his hands apart about 10-12 inches. Octavian knew, from watching how often Pazeek took time to clean himself, that the tengu was very particular about his appearance. He held up his own quill to show the tattered end of the writing instrument. "I know that this request might seem overly intrusive but in all honesty you are the only source of feathers large enough to serve as quills. I intend to use a bit of mithril to enchant them so I doubt I will need more three for some time."
Before Pazeek can respond, an urge to further mischief makes itself felt, and he doesn't resist in the slightest. With a mock gasp, he draws back from Octavian. "I'm hurt, deeply so. You ask for something as intimate as my feathers, and you're not even decent enough to court me properly first! Not that you're my type, what with being male and all, but you could at least have tried." Pazeek then sobs exaggeratedly as he buries his face in his hands. "And then I learn that all my feathers mean to you is a cheap source of writing tools. You heartless brute!" Pazeek tries to maintain the facade for as long as he can, but it doesn't take long at all for the fake sobs to turn into genuine laughter.
Eyes glittering with tears of amusement, he struggles for a few moments to get himself under control before continuing. "Pardon, but I just couldn't resist that. But certainly, you can have a few feathers to doodle with." With a thoughtful expression, Pazeek looks himself over, trying to find the feathers that match the size that Octavian needs, but that won't affect his ability to stay in the air if he doesn't have them for a time. He soon finds a set that meets both requirements and carefully plucks them with little more than a pained twitch each time. "Here you are, three quality tengu feathers," he says with an amused chirp as he hands them to Octavian. "First time anyone's ever asked me for writing supplies though. Usually it's attractive ladies wanting a little memento to remember me by."
As you leave the camp and make your way towards the tower the sun was still low in the morning sky. The air was still and felt a bit fresh. It had a feeling that the day would be a relatively safe day barring any... misfortunes. Before leaving Ishak made sure to point out the location of the tower on a crudely drawn map. Though even with this direction it would require a bit of work to actually get to the tower. It wasn't like you could easily spot it when you were within the overgrown forest that had claimed the ruins.
The path was beginning to get difficult to traverse due to the amount of undergrowth that was in this part of the ruins which caused the group to slow down enough where the time it took to reach the tower was about almost two hours of slow walking.
The tower, as what you could see had an incredibly wide base, bigger then the manor that the group had called home. The tower itself disappeared up into the canopy of the trees as the forest hugged the building tightly. The entrance to the tower wasn't barred as the entry way was an open arch, where it seemed as if a wooden door once was in its place. The inside of the building was dark, though you could make out that the tower had plenty of room inside for several rooms and a main atrium.
The surroundings of the tower were a smattering of ruined houses and larger buildings, which seemed to once serve some for of military presence here.
The camp was bustling with activity as everyone was getting things packed up and ready to move out, the carts being loaded with all the items the party have found so far. Many of the ex-slaves had set aside their armor and weapons, where the two aasimars were busy to seeing to enchantments and enhancements to the gear. Jietin could be seen helping the camp with moving larger items that some had issues carrying.
Ishak would approach Thomen then, pointing a finger at him as he called his name. "Thomen? Right? You handled yourself well in fight. Wanted to know your capabilities." he began as his reptillian eyes appraised the dwarf for a moment. "You not like others. Want to know a bit more about you." It wasn't too much of an odd thing for the kobold to be quite nosey with others.
- I... I don't know what you mean...- Thomen stutters. -What do you... want to know?
Thomen is a bit wary about the kobold. He knows he cooks well, and of course trusts him, but going too personal might be a bit difficult for him. There's always a first time, though...
Tsakua steps from the brush and gestures to the group. "Zanven, you an' Toyer do a quick sweep fer bones an' beasties," he directs, "While me'n Ilya'll take a glance at ton tower."
Moving forward carefully, Tsakua takes time to look for traps that could be waiting for them.
Breewyn went about the camp, trying to help as much as she could that she could actually lift. Whenever that failed she quickly got out of the way of others, attempting to avoid being underfoot with others helping out themselves.
If she heard the exchange between Ishak and Thomen, she would tug gently on Thomen's sleeve and point out one of the other Kobolds, responding with, "They are the cook." After a little while of running around she would finally ask if there was something not purely lifting and moving gear and equipment related, that she could help out with.
When Octavian finally felt his tongue and cheeks were relaxed enough he said a few halting words in the complicated Tengu language, which was an odd combination of fluid syllables broken up by harsh chirps and breaks. It had been a long time since he had heard the words but ever since the avian had joined the group the lessons had been coming back to him.
"May your skies be everclear and the wind your lover." he said, a formal phrase in Tengu that was a combination of gratitude and farewell. The wizard grimaced and rubbed at his jaw, opening and closing his mouth as if to work out a knot. "That really was not designed to be spoken by a creature without a beak."
Pazeek lifts an eyebrow in surprise as he hears Octavian's words in his own language. "No, it wasn't, but full marks for getting it right regardless, and without biting your tongue in the process. I am impressed by that," he says with a tone of curiousity. "Which does beg the question, however, of just why you went through the effort to learn it. Most folk lacking the proper physical feature don't bother, for just the reason you mentioned."
As he continued to speak the difficult language the words seemed to flow easier and easier out of his mouth as his muscles started to become used to the strange movements. "In the millennia that have passed our species have grown apart and most individuals on both sides have forgotten the bond we once had. That's why I'm hoping that those tengu in the cities invaded by the humans will be transported beyond the wards of New Alexandria, to safety. The leaders of my people MUST be well versed in our history going back thousands of years so the alliance we once had with the tengu will seem like recent history. Hopefully that counts for something."
Octavian coughed after the long soliloquy and reached over to the water barrel to take several drinks with the ladle. "In truth I had to spend several days trying to drudge up my old lessons to remember a simple greeting. This language is so difficult that it would be useful for passing messages."
Pazeek listens intently to Octavian's explanation, beaking clicking absentmindedly as he thinks over a few of the more interesting tidits the mage has shared. Once Octavian has finished and taken a few more drinks to wet his abused mouth and throat, Pazeek addresses some of things that he found particularly worth further discussion. "It's only good for messages if it can be spoken without coughing up blood immediately after," he begins, keeping to the common tongue. "Since the pair of us are the only two in the whole of the camp who can claim that distinction, and yourself only barely at that, I'd say the value is lowered cnsiderably," Pazeek concludes with a tone of dry amusement.
Moving on to the next point that caught his attention, he continues. "As for tengu caught by the king's forces? Hmm, I doubt that you'll find any in this part of the world. Weren't many in the southern lands to begin with. We stay mostly in the north, around the Moon Sea, or way out on the western side of the continent, past that big desert. And we're a twitchy lot of opportunists and survivors besides, with a fine sense for when it's time to fade from attention." Pazeek frowns thoughfully for a moment before shrugging. "And the tengu living in the northen cities that that madman tries to claim will bleed his armies to death before moving back to the next position. He won't be taking any by surprise, so they'll have time to make sure his armies get the full measure of tengu hospitality toward unwanted visitors."
Pazeek chuckles evilly, and exudes a definite sense that he'd be sporting a teeth-baring grin with little actual humor to it, had he the mouth for it. "Those armies will gain nothing but rubble and ash each time they take a city, while every city further along their line of advance uses the time gained to further fortify. So he loses soldiers in futile sieges that gain nothing when they succeed, and further guts his economy by killing off trade that his people need." Pazeek chuckles again, this time in genuine amusement. "And all the while, the tengu, and most of the other northerners with them, will just keep falling back. The king might take the north eventually, if he's willing to throw enough bodies at the walls and eat the resulting casualties, but he won't gain back but a bare fraction of what he spends on those conquests."
With a thoughtful frown, Pazeek then comes to the last matter currently on his mind. "The shared history between your people and mine certainly is news, however, and sounds quite fascinating. But you'd have to talk to an actual scholar about that, which I most definitely am not. I hit things until they stop moving, and flirt shamelessly with any ladies that might be interested. Deep conversations about the ancient past are not my thing."
-Hi... Are you... umm.. are you going to do an enchantment? I would... like to watch... I mean, when you do it, and only if you don't mind... I don't want to distract you, you know...
Pazeek glances over at Thomen when the dwarf, who he has noticed wandering around the camp for a considerable portion of the morning, speaks up. "I certainly don't mind an audience, though I'll likely be doing little more than watching as well. Oh, and while I remember, thank you for the ring." Pazeek lifts a claw to show the ring settled on it. Turning back to Octavian, he nods in the direction of the work area. "And on the subject of enchanting things, perhaps we should get on with it. The sooner it's begun, the sooner it's done, and all."
As he rises from his seat at the fire, Pazeek stretches, then idly inspects a clawed hand. "If I could figure out a good way to enhance these, and my beak as well, beyond a temporary spell, that'd be quite useful. The foes I've encountered out here so far are unfortunately just a bit too tough to take any appreciable damage from them." With a slight, but distinctly disgruntled flick of his feathers, he turns away from the fire to return to the work area. "So many ideas, but no way to actually put them to use," he mutters.
"What you skills. If you will be more prominent in the direction of group, what is it you do well. You handled well in fight, but you mentioned you could craft? Or I misheard?" Ishak questioned, tilting his head, before looking around for a barrel to sit atop of. "You seem interesting fellow. For dwarf."
You don't seem to find any traps in your preliminary search of the tower. Whatever traps may have been here were already deactivated by the kobolds, as you do notice a small pile of fresh junk such as wood pieces and mechanism off in an odd corner.
You notice the same as Tsakua where you find no traps in sight.
When you pass through the door of the tower, you could find that the other rooms were all missing their doors, and seemed rather bare, anything that were once within them had rot away due to time. Something was immediately odd about the layout of the tower base. The rooms already didn't seem fit for storage or bunking, well in any way that made any sense.
Breewyn tries to find a stump or rock of reasonable comfort as she overheard octavian announce his intent on his weavings of magicks. She always did love to watch when magick was performed, the more visible and dazzling the better. She supposed that was why the celestial bodies appealed to her so, when they would grant her the powers to wield such magic herself.
So quietly she watched, trying to be quiet and attentive as he prepared. Though the longer he took, the more boredom creeped at the edge of her mind and caused twitches of restlessness and irritation.
Swimming through the oceans of magic was always an interesting experience for Octavian. He had heard that every wizard had their own way of interacting with magic but for the Illidari it was always like swimming through lights and emotions and seeing the endless universe spread out beneath him as a great phoenix spread its wings to engulf him. Anyone staring intently at the wizard for the next hour would see phantom text flowing back and forth between the wizard's glowing eyes and the spellbook that twitched and crawled like a living thing.
After an hour the magic flowed out of the the spellbook and the wizard closed it with a sigh. He blinked a few times and got up with a grunt, his body going stiff from an hour of no movement. "Alright Pazeek what do items do you want me to work on?"
Watching Octavian with an intent expression, Pazeek points to the waiting breastplate and the mithral next to it. "I think that should be the first to get your attention. If you'll recall, we discussed infusing the mithral into the breastplate, similar to what you did for Jietin's sword. After that, I'd like to look into enhancing one or more of my weapons to be more accurate and harder hitting." Frowning, Pazeek looks at the weapons in question for a moment. "For some reason, however, I am quite certain that performing such work on even one or my weapons will take at least a day, at best. Which means that you likely won't be able to handle the armor and the weapons as well on your own."
Pazeek waves a claw at the jungle visible through the manor's damaged wall. "I don't think this place will be considerate enough to grant us that much time without something going horribly awry," he says with a biting tone. "So perhaps you should confine your efforts to just the armor for now. Afterwards, you can perhaps provide some guidance as I try to put some of my new knowledge to actual use." With a thoughtful hum, Pazeek considers the work area. "I doubt I'll ever be as good as a dedicated practioner, such as yourself, but if I can get accustomed to using this knowledge I've gained, then the camp will certainly benefit from having another member capable of crafting magic items."
Toyer pokes over the pile of junk for anything interesting or important.
With a moment of studying the layout, visiting each room with light inspection, you have the brilliant idea of stepping outside the tower and checking the perimeter. The tower base was definitely much larger then the room within, much larger then feasible for it to just be solid wall. Stepping back into the small atrium of the tower you realize that the it was built to make it appear larger then it really was. Something was being hidden in plain sight here. You get the inkling feeling that it must be another room of some sort.
It had been some time before you were able to get the proper meditation as before. As you put your focus on your spellbook, you could feel the magic of the ruins seep into the book once again. This time it was a bit accelerated pace, slowly another portion of the page as before begin filling up with inscriptions. This time it was still in the same runic script that was unfamiliar as before. Though it seemed as if the script was missing pieces throughout, enough to make it impossible to decipher what it was forming. The entire page was now filled with missing holes in the what you believe to be a spell.
Digging through the scrap pile you find a few curious looking gears and metal rounded 'springy' things and decided to pocket them. Among everything else that was the only interesting things you were able to pick out.
He's not particularly making a racket, but he's also not specifically moving stealthily like he was coming in
Armor was another matter completely. It had to be balanced throughout and designed in such a way as to deflect incoming blows to the side and be able to absorb impacts without deforming or cracking. Without a proper anvil to absorb the shock of his hammering and help shape the metal the wizard wasn't sure what he could do. He replaces the armor on the table and leaves his staff leaning against the table to go rooting through the materials they had scavenged from the wagons.
For the next thirty minutes the wizard shifted things aside and looked under others, all the while grumbling to himself. When he had inspected all of the building materials and not found what he sought he jumped down from the vehicles and stood there for a minute with his arms crossed, deep in thought.
Hammer, armor, mithril. No proper anvil but what could serve as a proxy? An anvil would be perfect and last for decades but what could serve the same purpose and last long enough before breaking? he thought. His eyes drifted over the bustle of the camp being packed up for their move deeper into the city and watched as one of the kobolds ducked around one the large stones that was the result of their battle yesterday.
His eyes locked onto the large, shaped block and the beginning on an idea began to trickle into his big, beautiful brain. Before doubts could begin to creep in Octavian was moving back into the building to gather staff, armor, hammer and crafting material. He dumped everything on the ground next to the large block and firmly grasped his staff in both hands.
What came next was no proper spell but a simple manifestation of the power within the weapon. The runes in the wood lit up and flickered with leashed power that oozed out into the stone as the wizard lowered the weapon and made contact. Almost immediately the stone quivered and began to ooze like runny claw, dancing and splashing to the imperious hand movements of the wizard as he molded the magic.
When the magic finally faded the stone had been reshaped into a rough outline of an anvil, albeit with a massive base that flowed out from the gently curved and ice smooth surface of the impromptu stone anvil. The wizard knelt and ran his hands over his creation and nodded to himself in satisfaction. "This will do.
For the next few minutes he busied himself with sweeping away any leaves or detritus around the stone until a circle twenty feet wide had been cleared. With chalk he created a circle ten feet across on the ground, completely enveloping the work space he needed. Once the spell circle was finished he placed the armor on the stone and incanted several spells in a row. Once the magic took hold he picked up the hammer and began rain blow down on the armor.
Though nothing held the metal down it did not bounce, held down by invisible strands of magic. Soon the metal was glowing white without giving off any heat and warped with every blow. Periodically the wizard would pause to cast a spell while staring intently at the glowing metal before resuming hammering.
After an hour Octavian showed no signs of slowing down. When two hours rolled around he pulled a dagger from his bag and began to use it like a chisel, placing the tip against the soft metal and tapping the hammer gently against the weapon's butt. Carefully he carved whirling loops into the metal that wound around itself in graceful and beautiful knots. Although the metal of the armor was soft it still dulled the tip of the dagger he was using as an awl and would not be suitable for anything besides scrap metal afterwards. Despite this the wizard continued to gently tap and carve the armor, creating suitable channels for the magic he was attempting.
Once that was finished he carefully dropped each piece of mithril into the glowing item and hammered for another hour to evenly disperse the silvery mineral througout the breastplate. Next he fished out a rough diamond the size of an acorn from his ever present bag and gripped it tightly in his fist before holding the fist over the armor. Sparks danced around his closed fist as the tendons in his arm stood in out stark relief against his skin. A loud cracking and grinding noise could be heard as he flexed his hand and crushed the diamond to dust with magic. Despite the magic the shards of diamond still cut into his palm and his glowing blood mixed with the mineral. Octavian endured the pain as he opened his palm and let the blood and diamond dust drip down into the glowing armor. He held open his hand long enough to ensure all of the diamond had been washed out of his wounds before binding his palm with a strip of clean cloth.
Towards the end of the fourth hour he cast two more spells that sank into his mind and expanded his mental faculties and his skill as a blacksmith. Enormous clouds of sparks flew off the armor as he pounded not metal but magic into it and the sounds of the hammering became enormous. He kept this up for only a few minutes before ceasing all crafting and kneeling on the ground, panting. The metal quickly dimmed to a silvery, shimmering breastplate that gleamed in the sunlight. The stone anvil underneath it was pitted and cracked and as he watched small pieces broke off and tumbled to the ground. The tip of the dagger had been ground down to a rounded nub and the metal of the blade ruined when a small piece of the anvil fell on it the blade cracked, useless.
Once he had several minutes had passed the Wizard stood up and encanted a small spell that allowed him to see dweomers and stares at the armor for several minutes.
As Octavian finishes his rather intimidating preparations--including his highly impressive use of a nearby hunk of rubble as an ersatz anvil--Pazeek moves slowly around the periphery of the mage's work area, careful to stay well outside from the cleared area around the stone anvil. For the whole of the hours-long span during which Octavian is laboring over the breastplate--and Pazeek's nascent knowledge tells him that the crafter is doing well more than just adding mithral to it--the tengu watches the entire process, glittering eyes missing nothing.
Between his new knowledge and what little he already knew about magic, Pazeek is able to figure out the spells that Octavian casts during the process, and is even able understand the purpose behind those spells. Clearly, he is in the presence of a genuine expert here and, though a part of him is admittedly intimidated by the prospect of trying to match this sort of work with his own meager skill, for the most part, Pazeek is genuinely impressed and enthused by the chance to watch someone skilled at work.
As Octavian enters what Pazeek recognizes as the final stretch, the tengu makes his way over to the food stores and puts a little something together for the exhausted mage to consume. Even then, however, much of his attention is still firmly fixed on the circle and what is occuring within its boundaries. As Pazeek returns to the anvil, seeing what little remains of the battered lump of masonry, he clears his throat quietly to catch Octavian's ear. "When you're done, I've something here for you to eat, and cold water to wash it down after. Was quite interesting to watch, I'll admit. Don't know that I could ever match that myself, though."