#baronyofthesilverwolf

Gwen figures she missed something

And looks up "mm?"

"I can willow whisper? Not great but I can try" she offers

"You think you can ask David if there's good clay around here? Lots of sedimentary rocks, so there SHOULD be...."

"Oh sure" She moves towards David "David? Do we have any good clay around here?"

David considers this request. “There should be clay to be found here, though it does not appear in any abundance upon the surface. The sedimentary rock formations near the underground pond are most likely to yield what you seek. The lake, too, may conceal layers of fine clay along its edges, deposited over many years. If you desire, I will find some for you."

"Please do, Thistle needs some, and thank you" She admires what she can see of him as he turns.

David inclines his head solemnly. "I shall retrieve the clay you require" He turns, moving towards the underground pond with deliberate steps, mentally calculating where to find workable clay.

...

After a period of absence, David returns, water running off of his marble husk. He is carrying a sizable lump of dark, damp clay. His expression is as stoic as ever, though there's a sense of satisfaction in his posture. "As requested," he says. "It should be of fine enough quality for this work. The sediment near the underground pond was particularly rich."

He offers the clay out to Gwen, looking to her though he did nod towards Thistle. "I trust it will serve."

"Thank you, David."

"You've got a good eye, David" She takes the bowl and hands it to Thistle, "Thanks, David. "

"It is of the earth, as am I." He answers simply.

"The bones of the world" She nods

"Mm..." Thistle has rolled up her sleeves and is passing the clay back from hand to hand.

"Could you find gems and precious metals?" Art asks.

David considers this. "No." he finally answers, "Nor would I. A vein of ore might be just a resource to you, but it could be the very anchor of an elder Glome. Were there need, I would consult with my people. DO you have need?"

Art looks taken aback, and shakes his head. "No, not at all. Just curious."

"Then, no." David repeats.

"I'm gonna need a hole. About 3...4 foot deep."

Gwen gives Art a look

"Ye big around?"

"In an ideal situation, this would take a week and I'd do it in my studio..."

"But I think I can do this with magic."

Art looks back at Gwen. "You want me to dig?" Missing the point. "It would be easier with a shovel...."

Thistle abruptly crosses over to a likely looking outcropping of rock. She plunks unceremoniously on the ground beside it, and starts kneading the lump of clay to achieve the right consistency. Her expression is very focused.

I"ll dig"

"I will assist." responds David.

Art finds himself left at odds. "I... will wait here, then." He says, diplomatically, with a grin.

Citrine gives Art a chime of understanding.

Thistle is intently focused, and already has clay streaked on her face, in her hair, and across her voile. But her spirals are glowing in happy oranges that some might think is at odds with the scowl.

The troll follows digging directions from Thistle

Citrine buzzed about with a pebble in her hands. Helpy!

The clay David brings is stiff at first, resisting Thistle’s touch. As she kneads it, warmth from her hands softens it, making it more pliable.

Unlike store-bought clay, it has a gritty texture, with tiny mineral fragments giving it an earthy, raw quality. This roughness makes the process feel... perhaps, more intentional, with each movement and push and pull having more meaning.

Flecks of limestone catch the light, and the clay’s natural sturdiness feels like it holds hidden potential - raw, unworked, but waiting to be formed.

(Dexterity + Crafts for the initial shaping of the heart!)

/roll 6

(3 successes - noted)

The clay, though rougher and more natural than the refined kind she usually works with, molds smoothly under her hands. The imperfections in the clay lend it a unique texture, giving the heart an organic feel, almost like it truly belongs to the earth around it.

When she finishes, she finds that she holds a shape that is solid, and the surface is smooth enough to carve symbols into. Overall, it feels sturdy and well-formed.

She flicks a glance over at Art, something soft and wistful in her eyes.

All this talk of fireworks and flame and... well, some memories seem very close to the surface right now.

She tears apart a ballpoint pen she had jammed in her sketchbook, discarding bits until she has a satisfactory stylus with which to carve into the surface. The vessel certain resembles a human heart, rather than a cartoon symbol, though it is not burdened with an overabundance of anatomical details.

"Wow" Admiration, detailed or not, it looks good

There she's going, starting with the eight-pointed star. She braces her carving forearm with her other hand, biting on her lip to steady... steady....

(And, Wits + Occult for the imbuing of the glyph! Though, you may choose Greymare, Lore, or Remembrance instead - as there is justification for any of those)

Art is nearby - he would have been hovering, but Citrine pointedly buzzed in his face several times as he threatened to block the light.

There were, mind you, an entire WORKSHOP of tools downstairs, but Art for once shut up instead of 'helpfully' pointing this out.

((wp?))

((Sure!))

(I should really update her sheet)

/roll 5

((Keep note of how much you've spent thou.... 👀

...

((Nevermind))

The spirals trail off of the star, like the tail of a comet, or a whirlwind, curling gracefully around the clay heart.