[Viskyia Crow]

Viskyia met Master Titus’ gaze when he looked up. She listened intently when he pointed out his rule of thumb, and described just why jewelry was so important. She could tell he was passionate about his work. She wondered as she watched him animate if he ever wondered where his pieces ended up, and who wore them. She wondered how many times things he made were passed from one generation to the next. She smiled. It was a genuine smile. He put pieces of himself into his work, and thus gave out pieces of himself to everyone who wore his creations. She was glad.

“I’ve never thought of jewelry that way, Master Titus.. I didn’t realize people gifted their family with jewelry that belonged to another of their family who’d passed on or otherwise didn’t need it.” Of course she hadn’t. She’d spent most of her adult life cutting stones that housed monstrous spells that would kill, sicken, drain, or spy if the right conditions applied. She knew jewelry as symbols of ownership: wedding bands, slave collars, faction affiliations, signs of office. The jewelry she knew involved no love, only designation or pure unadulterated evil.

As she followed him back behind the counter and through a narrow doorway, she wondered if anyone wore her work. She hoped not. Maybe this new way of thinking, this new group of creations would somehow make up for a long line of things that weren’t so positive.

She glanced around, examining the workshop carefully. She indeed saw numerous tools, far more than one man needed. She saw the various stages of handles and angles of blades, and sharpening stones worn over long periods of time. She realized she was looking at one man’s body of work throughout his lifetime. The tools had changed as he did, some cast aside in favor of something that worked better. She smiled again. It was small, but far larger and more complex than her little workshop had been.

She looked at the forge as he pointed at it and absently noted that it would be warm throughout the night, warm enough for someone to sleep on a small pallet on the floor in front of it. She stifled a yawn, heard his question, and looked up at the Master.

“I’ve almost no experience with it. I can tack and all the very basic stuff, but most of what I did was just flanged stones. I bought my flanging already made in various widths just rolled up on big rolls of silver, gold, bronze, copper. All I really had to do was etch, cut, and tack.” She wondered if this would be a problem. She could tell by the definite absence of purchased flange rolls lying around, that he probably did all his own flanging work by hand. She mentally groaned. The source of her flanging had claimed the more you did it, the easier it got. She hadn’t believed him. “Can you teach me as part of the apprenticeship? I’d love to learn. It seems to me a jeweler would be handicapped without those sorts of skills.” She responded.

She wandered around the little workshop a bit more. It really needed a good cleaning. It was painfully obvious that two men worked here. There were cobwebs in the ceiling beams, and a fine bit of dust on everything that wasn’t what she would consider a ‘current’ work surface. She made herself somewhat at home, picking up random objects, mostly tools, and examining them. Some of the tools had obvious functions, some of them looked bizarre. There was actually more than enough room for two to work here without getting too much in each others way.

She glanced up at Titus and asked him curiously “Where do you and Furloin live when you’re not in the shop?” The question was a bit off topic, but she was curious when the man called his day at an end, and just where he and the brownie took themselves. It wasn’t that she was tired; it was more that she was wondering about the ‘routine’ of the days to come.

She gave him a chance to respond then added "I hope you don’t mind if I simply leave my things here. I don’t have much, just a small satchel of possessions. I could sleep at night in front of the forge.” She glanced pointedly at the space on the floor, and then smiled up at him.

The more she stayed in this place, the more she smiled, she noted with some alarm. She rarely smiled before. It was a whole new experience. She looked at Master Titus again, then glanced out at the brownie who was collecting money on not just one purchase, but two. The little guy must have talked the customer into buying more than they actually came in for. She laughed slightly, inside her mind, and turned back to Master Titus. She hovered, waiting for his response.