A Blade of my own!

[Nene]

Orlaithe had allowed herself to wander. Normally she wasn't one to walk into the Wester Caladera, but the forge and smithy had always held some interest for her. The sound of the metal, the horrible smell of sulfur and metals being worked, the usually very attractive, physically fit men, and women who smelted, forged and turned lumps of metal into blades, necklaces and sometimes even works of art.

She'd simply taken up a place near one of the forges watching an apprentice turn the mental slowly from a lump of heated stone, to a small slender bar.

[Neeq Machine]

"Interested in forging?" asked a male voice from behind Orlaithe. The bench wobbled slightly as a handsome man vaulted over the back, before sprawling in a comfortable-looking position next to her, arms thrown wide along the back of it. He looked quite like one of the men who would forge, but his accent was odd, to say the least -- lilting, with a purr at the back of his throat, as if he spoke another language altogether. He wore leather pants and a lightweight cotton shirt, the lacings only half-tied to reveal a light brushing of hair on his muscled chest.

"I do not see you as the type," he said pleasantly, with a rakish grin. "I am called Milune. I am of Orro. You are a Candidate of the Weyr?" he asked, carefully picking his words.

[Nene]

The grin made Orlaithe smile a little bit. "I am interested in forging a little bit. "I wanted to see if someone would be willing to make me a dagger. I have a few things to rtade for it." she murmurs. She seemed a bit surprised. "Not a candidate persay, but why do you ask, Milune of Orro?" she questions firmly.

She noticed his carefully chosen words, and Orlaithe's eyes wandered long his face, and over his form. The open shirt was a nice touch. It helped him blend in, but it also made her more curious. Was it a sublte form of seduction? She shook her head and finally spoke...... "Orlaithe." she would keep details to herself.

[Neeq Machine]

"Can you not get one from the storage?" Milune asked, surprise in his voice. "Or is a special dagger?" He raised a brow at her. The young man was a journeyman under one of the master forgers at Orro, and he had come to South Run as part of a crafts exchange -- not to mention that he was one of the fastest at learning languages, and after hundreds of years of divide the Orroans and southerners had quite a distinct language from the northern Pernese, though there was enough crossover that it was clear that the languages were closely related.

"I apologize that you are not a Candidate, Orlaithe," he said, with a half-bow. "I did not know, and the assumption was empolleet. Rude," Milune added. "There are few of South-run who are not of the dragons." He shrugged slightly, a ripple of one shoulder. "It is my mistake."

[Nene]

Orlaithe laughed. "I could get one from storage, but where is the fun in that? I mean Watching men work forges.. is like being back hoem again.. only hotter." she says with a small smirk. It was a moment before produced from a small side pouch a folded peiced of hide. As she carefully unfolded it the ink and its surroundings cleared. A dagger. "I had dream about it, Mil." she breathed in a soft almost magical whisper.

"My mother said that when one has a reccouring dream, it MEANS something. And that something could extremely important. So this time I got something to write on and drew what I thought I'd seen in the the dream. IT was this dagger." she held the hide up. "And its not a big deal. I want to be 'of the dragons', one day." she said. "It's a hope. Mother's rider, so maybe some of that blood runs in my veins too, and it'll give me a shot in the dark." she didn't roll up the drawing but carefully traced the daggers image.

"The spirals and whirls.. I have no idea what they mean... but they feel important. Beautiful, but deadly." she touched the hide again and then began rolling it up. "Getting it, one from storage would mean forgoing all the beautiful design, and I might not beable to use it. They're a set...this is just one dagger. I am hoping to soon dream about the other..."

[Neeq Machine]

"You are from very far south, then?" Milune asked, raising a brow with a slight chuckle. It was chill already, for autumn came early in the mountains. For Orlaithe to describe this as 'home, only hotter' she had to be from far south indeed. But he stopped asking questions when Orlaithe started talking about her dream. His brow furrowed slightly as he mentally translated her words, his eyes focused on the piece of hide she held.

The dagger was lovely indeed -- a pretty little thing, with a filigreed handle and etchings running down the blade. It was a good drawing, but something niggled at the back of his mind as Orlaithe traced the spirals and whorls with one finger. It was almost like... like he'd seen it before. But that was impossible. The girl had said she'd dreamed of it... but perhaps she'd captured in her mind something she had glimpsed elsewhere, at market perhaps, or on the hilt of someone's belt.

"This is a master's work," Milune said softly as Orlaithe rolled up the hide. He stood up suddenly, striding a few steps away. "Hie, Jervail! Ki kote yo dag ou a? Ou konnen ki sa. Mete a - yo menm ki gen espiral yo filigran ak grave," he called, in the language of the Orroans. One of the men looked up from a forge. He was older -- perhaps 35 or 40 -- with a braided beard.

"Poukisa ou vle wè moun ki dag?" the man said back.

"Sa a ti fi te trase youn nan yo ki sòti nan yon rèv," Milune said, a strange tone in his voice. Jervail raised a bushy brow, then stroked his beard thoughtfully, resting his hammer on the anvil.

"Yon rèv?" he asked, sounding incredulous. "Etranj."

"Se vre," Milune responded with a shrug. Jervail chuckled, and bent over, rustling around in some shelving set into the wall of the forge. Milune waited, and was soon rewarded when the man stood, a small bundle wrapped in burlap in his large hands.

"Trape!" Jervail called, tossing the bundle. Milune caught it without difficulty, and the sound of metal clinking was obvious. He turned back to Orlaithe, a strange fey grin on his face.

"You did not see these before, have you?" he asked in his lilting accent, walking back to her and sitting down again, unwrapping the package. Inside were three daggers, elegantly filigreed and patterned with whorls and spirals much like Orlaithe's drawing -- though they were not exactly the same, merely quite similar. "My father's brother made these for his master project, but he will not sell them."

[Nene]

The language caught her attention. She focused. She'd heard snatches of it, Smuggler's Drop was rife with the sound of- not that bothered to learn it. It was Orran she new, though she wasn't sure too much else. "I was born at Ista. But I... moved around on the ship, Ocean's Star with dad alot." she explaisn gesture to the men, and some of the women who were working the forges. "It's just similar." s the converstion extends and the bundle is tossed she takes a moment to listen hard.

"I haven't seen them.... before.. not that I know of." she says thinking. "Not in concious memeory, though we got a lot of traders and people shuffling in and out so I may have... and just don't remember." she closed her eyes as she carefully reached for one before with drawing her hand. "A Master project, they're beautiful. Either way." she holds up her hands. " Don't keep them out of their casing on my account."

She touched the drawing again. "Beautiful indeed... but they do look eerily similar."

[Neeq Machine]

"Daggers as such were made to be seen, and it is not against your account for them to be unsheathed," he said, with a smile. The man re-wrapped the dagger, calling back to his uncle to catch them, and tossing the bundle back. His uncle caught it and stowed it again, before going back to work on his project -- making spades for farm implements. The vast majority of the forge productions were for trade, and Orro was primarily a farming and mining conglomerate. "Jervail carries them with him often. He is perhaps the man to speak to for the making of what you desire."