trans_9 | Spellcraft? Or Knowledge (arcana)? Who knows? [Open]

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Spellcraft? Or Knowledge (arcana)? Who knows? [Open]

Having given warning to the crew as they asked -- and regretting the days in his own lands, where massive ground-shaking detonations would earn no more notice than a peddler with delicious folded bread -- Aibghalien stepped into the sensorium. With a wave of his hand he bade it produce the image of his former laboratory -- much like his current one, save the outer walls were constructed of massive blocks of stone, testament to its position in the tallest tower of the castle he once dwelt in.

Then, with more painstaking care than it seemed worth, he began forming duplicates of each of his magical items, pausing to laboriously inspect each one before setting it to one side, next to its actual twin.

This promised to be a fruitful night.

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"May I... see it?"

The truth was that he was hesitant to even touch the weapon, but he had to be sure of his appraisal. False magical auras could be fabricated; surely it would be easier to fabricate the one around this axe than to truly invest it with what he senses?

Ronnae hesitated a bit. She was told over a hundred times, that this was not a toy. Many of these because she was one of the youngest recruits to have climbed so high in such little time, which garnered a bit of distrust from those who hadn't worked with her.

She held the axe in front of her after a mental debate, this ship is safe, this ship is safe, this ship is safe... I can trust these people can't I?.....

"Be careful alright? It's not a toy." She said in her cheery tone, mentally facepalming at her thought escaping her lips since she didn't mean the comment towards the male as much as she was recalling what they kept telling her.

"I promise not to juggle it," Aibghalien said with a smile. Sure, it was a weak joke, but the best he could manage in the circumstances.

The weapon was overlarge and entirely too heavy for him, though he was no weakling by any means. He didn't even try to wield it properly, merely holding it in both hands so he could study it, and make every visual test on it he could think of. He hesitated to do more.

There was no denying it. He sighed slightly. "This weapon has the strongest necromantic aura I have ever seen."

Ronnae frowned, she knew the weapons origins. Afterall it was crafted to 'fight fire with fire'.

"I was forged to defeat the most powerful lich in existance back on my world. The Lich King. It's not surprising considering ...." She paused hesitantly. Even back then when it was her duty, not all of the materials where pleasant to recover...

"Considering the materials that were asked of me for the forging of said weapon." She finished with a small sigh her body slumping a bit relaxed.

"I'm hesitant to ask," he said, lowering his hands. The weapon didn't fall, though; instead, it drifted slowly back towards its owner.

A weapon to fight a lich. Send a blade of necromantic power to destroy a creature of unfathomable evil. He could understand the reasoning.

"It must have been a very dark time."

She grasped the large axe and re-strapped it to her back.

"It was.... we lost so many. Even in the final battle... it was a miracle, no." She shook her head, looking a bit shaken. "It was two miracles that I am standing here... A once in a life time happening. Everything was over before that spark of light came out of nowhere...." She shook her head and looked back up to the elf, her glass teal eyes expressed she was still new to war even if she did work extremely hard to keep others safe.

"Well... I don't mean to dredge up unpleasant memories," he said quietly. He could sympathize, after all; he had seen his own share of dark times and desperate battles. "The important thing is that you survived it... and I presume won, since you are standing here."

She noded, her demeanor shifting back to friendly.

"Thankfully me and my family members who were involved in the war survived... well most..." She steeled herself and raised her head smiling, knocking bad memories back.

"It's been odd being here. It takes some getting use to don't you think?"

This shift of topics caught him off-guard, still wrapped up in his thoughts as he was. He made a mental note to return to it later; if he didn't, he knew he'd end up regretting it.

"To be honest it isn't terribly different from home, these past few years," he admitted. "I stay in my lab and experiment. The only difference is the purpose towards which I'm striving. But then, I'm a wizard, not a warrior-type; I imagine our experiences must be very different in that respect."

Ronnae smiled cheerily. "Yup! I tend to explore or sleep or train or sleep or relax in the green areas.... and maybe sleep." She giggled slightly quickly covering her mouth. She rubbed the back of her head absentmindedly a slight blush creeping on her cheeks. Good job ronnae! Showing your age. Shut up!

"Errr so yeah, I don't mean to take your time away from your experiments!" She said a bit hastily.

"I'm certainly not short on time," he said, amused. "I have very little to do besides experiment. It's probably a good thing for me to occasionally spend some time talking with someone who isn't a magical theoretician or otherwise completely absorbed in their own discipline."

He waved reflexively but unnecessarily as he used the sensorium to form a pair of chairs. "Besides, the crew as a whole is probably tired of hearing me explode things, and entirely unconvinced of my usefulness anyway, so it isn't as if I'm depriving anyone of anything."

That came out a bit more bitter than he intended...

Ronnae frowned a bit, having experienced similar feelings in the past. She sat on the chair, taking her time to at least remove her pauldrons, armor wasn't made for relaxing afterall. With that off she moved her long twin ponytails behind her and smiled at the elf a bit awkwardly.

"I know I just popped but I feel somewhat of the same. I mean, I'm a fighter. But it looks like we're not constantly engaged in battle. I want to feel like I'm contributing something outside of combat...." She sighed and looked up in thought.

"That's not a bad trait to have," he said. "I think it's better than constantly locking yourself up to train, as if your only value was your sword-arm. Or, axe-arms, forgive me." He smiled a bit sheepishly. Swords were the accustomed weapon of elves, along with bows, after all.

She smiled, she took a moment to unsheathe two very elaborate and deadly looking twin swords from her sides. She looked at them adoringly before looking up to the elf.

"They... they were my mother's. She gifted them to me when I first joined her platoon. They had been hers since she became an assassin." She laid them on her lap next to each other, the impressive craftmanship clearly apparent. "They where meant more for her line of work. But they have served me without fail... got me out of a couple of binds. And just...." She looked away, a distant look. "And just having them with me has always felt like she is looking over me."

He had already been willing to allow a great deal of tolerance towards an orc; it was easy enough to tell that Ronnae wasn't quite like the orcs on his own world. Now, however, she was completely shattering any preconceptions he might have had anyway. He couldn't help but smile (even if her mother was an assassin, which kind of put an odd twist on the story).

"This ship must be lonely, for you."

Ronnae got taken aback momentarily. Her face turned a light shade darker as she looked away.

"Ah... y-yeah... a bit..." There was a moment of awkward silence before she piped up again. "But! At least there's someone I did know from my homeworld. He's a bit of a clutz at times but he's a good friend." She tried her best to give a warm smile, even if the comment had made her remember what she had lost back home.

"Well... I suppose this makes me into a terrible hypocrite, but don't be afraid to make new friends here," he said. "There are a lot of people here who seem to be well worth knowing, and -- especially if you just came out of a nasty war -- it's important to remember that you are more than just your weapons.

"And have faith that somehow, we will gain back what we have lost."

Her smile brightened and she gave him a cheery nod. "I hope we can. The people I've seen from afar seem friendly enough, sans a few scumbags that seem to have snuck unto the ship unless this 'Stacy' doesn't really care. Which is fine, I don't judge on background!" She laughed lightly, her young voice contrasting starkly the heavy dark and red armor she wore.

He couldn't help but laugh as well, finding her somewhat infectious. "You're certainly easy enough to like, in any case. You shouldn't have any problems."

Ronnae smiled. "Well that's good to know." She looked away a bit embarrassed. "It would be unpleasant to be in a ship with people who don't like you. Or at least mind you." She laughed a bit awkwardly.

"It's not so bad if you spend most of your time in your lab experimenting," he said with a grin that verged on the playful.

He sat back in his chair, appraising the girl before him thoughtfully. More seriously, he said, "If you'll allow me to compliment you... it's not many people who could go up against a lich of extreme power, using that weapon, and still seem as undamaged as you are. It speaks highly of you."

Ronnae blushed heavily this time. Looking away embarrassed she laughed a bit awkwardly.

"I ah... well yeah. Dad said it's because of my fighting style, in and out, fast strikes to weaken or confuse and heavy strikes when their attention is elsewhere. It's sort of like dancing... My grandfather said, in his homeplace it was called being a dervish, or a blade dancer." She commented trying to hide her face behind the reddish bangs that framed it.

"Oh, well." Now he was a little embarrassed. "I meant... spiritually. You don't seem to have become bitter, or cynical, or dark in heart, as many people would have become in such circumstances."

But then he smiled a little. "I'm not exactly in a position to pass judgment on how many scars you may or may not have, at the moment."

Ronnae mentally slapped her forehead. Good one Ronnie, way to look like a total ditz.

"Errr ummm ye-yeah... I don't know. Guess it comes from my family really. No point in being down over all the happenings and such. It's not like it'll help any right? 'Sides a cheery disposition does more for morale in our troops than being depressed and down throden right?" She smiled up at the elf.

Well, he HAD been unclear. And he found it interesting that she'd passed on a mild flirtation; something else to wonder about.

"Well then. This may be none of my business, and feel free to tell me so, but as a wizard and a sidhelien I have something of an interest in the matter, and I wouldn't feel right if I didn't say anything." Hopefully she believed him; he was, after all, speaking truthfully and as much from the heart as he could ever manage, these days. "Your axe... do you still use it?"

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