#dreaming

She inspects them!

Oh her mouth may begin to water. These tools are top of the line stuff! They fit good in her hands, they're solid and flexxible where they need to be, and ornately crafted on top of it

"Well, these ain't drek."

High praise

At least it makes sense the goddess Brighid has a kiln in a box... and no dead guys to help her. It's ALL her

But what drinking vessel should she make? Coffee mug is a classic. But hardly the only option

Feh!

In addition to clay stuff, there's metal and wood that can be incorproated. Her choice

She focuses on the clay - building a chalice bowl in the shape of cupped flames, and the stem resembling a twisted rod of iron.

Iron for steel, not the cold banal stuff, of course.

Of course.

(Dex plus Crafts. WP allowed if you wish)

/roll 6

Oh this is neat, a chance to work with some materials she's not as used to along with the clay she knows so well

Very neat - and, in the dreaming, her Pyretics skills seem closer to the surface, dancing in her memories of past lives and alchemy

And so the powdered gold she mixes in with the glaze for the inside of the cup is imbued - it glows like the inside of a kiln. Or a forge.

And as she works, a poem seems to form on it. Gladiola's poem

And then , it's done!

the new craft cools, and a voice says "Come out. You're freaking your never friend out being so small there"

And then.. before she can give a witty rejoinder, Thistle finds herself smoke again, and... reforms, her new creation in her hand

"Citrine, it's fine you ninny."

Citrine is glad to see she's alive and RIGHT SIZED.. and hugs Thistle's neck, then fusses

Which sound like a lot of idjit chiming

"Oh, I know, yes. Yes, you thought that, but you're not very brigh- no, you are bright in terms of lumens, not IQ...."

gwen is full sized too again "Uhhm.. I think my poem.. don't blame thistle for it? It... it was what came to mind... "

Brighid says "Now a challenge is a challenge dear," the goddess says and holds out a hand to Thistle "May I?"

She checks out the inscription!

She bends the earth with water,
and breathes air forth as needed
She'll sweat her body out
before her vision is defeated

You can bend her, crack her, smack her
leave a hundred scars
and yet her dream she pursues by sunlight or by stars
Blood and sweat and curses fuel her crafting ever higher

But never ever ever think
The crafter fears the fire
You can burn her, sear her, cook her hot
as she works on bowl or pot
To which she says "is that all you've got?"
And still she works with fire!

I've seen her curse and spit and rant
as she crafts ugly into elegant
If you put her before the gates of hell
She'd just say as a kiln, it would do well

I think she'll die or at least expire!
But never ever say 'you can't
Or take her visions bold for granted
Her hands have stories that with colors tell
Even as her mouth Kvetches and Kvells

And still she works with...
but wait , all backwards, I realize
I've got it wrong. At least my eyes
see how it's been all along

Fire works with her!
Oh, the fire works with her!

It should be noted that even a Native American troll can blush

"Oh, fer... oh, (^^%$& it, Rocky."

"Yer shedding rockdust."

"Yeah, I know I know, I should have used a regular poem instead of trying to ..."

She rubs at her eyes, spirals glowing.

"And I'm sorry I wrote such a bad poem... I don't know...." Gwen blushes "I ruined the challenge"

The goddess looks over it, and takes the vessel and glances over it with her own hands, "Do you think she ruined it, there, fellow crafter?"

She rubs the back of her neck.

"No."

"I agree... as one who fire works with as well, I like it, very very much. However, being a goddess..." She flips the goblet "I find recreation quite easy too. " Suddenly it has an identitcal twin "One of these is yours, Crafter Thistle."

'take the original, or my recreation, if you can tell which is which or if it matters" The goddess smiles at her

She tilts her head, squinting... and looks for the flaw.

Mmm, well, of course, one could find a LOT flawed about that poem up to and possibly including spelling and grammar

Thing is - either the goddess reproduced Thistle's work perfectly, or she reproduced it perfectly.

A paradox! but yup

That does seem to be key to telling.

Ah ha...she finds it, one of them has 'even' height on the opening one drinks from.. the other has the slightest of dips

She trails a calloused fingertip over the dip, and offers it to the goddess. "Seems right that you keep mine."

"And a wonderful gift it is.. I thank you"

She takes it