"Illea" Mr. Ilnaren is here to see you," Sheryl's curly blonde hair was pinned up and still slightly damp from her training session. Isuelt, who was standing, looked up as she walked into the room. There were books and papers scattered on the heavily lacquered walnut table in what could be described as the Scathachian dining room. Although at the moment, it looked more like Sheryl's chambers with her scholarly pursuits strewn from one end of the room to the other. "What are you doing" Can I help?"

"Looking for some old myths and legends about...What does Mr. Ilnaren want?" Isuelt's deep chocolate eyes focused on Sheryl.

"I think it's about the fire starter from the other night. I'll show him in, if you'd like." Isuelt nodded and Sheryl quickly turned on a bare foot and fetched Ebon to show him down the hallway and into the room where Isuelt had now taken a seat and pushed the paperwork over to one side of the table. "Mr. Ebon Ilnaren." Sheryl, always the pinnacle of manners announced their visitor.

"Hello, Ebon. Please, sit down. Can we offer you any thing?" Her lashes lifted to aim her gaze toward Sheryl at that moment. But instead of using her expression to dismiss the young Scathachian, she used it to gesture that she sit and join them. Sheryl's extensive and impressive knowledge might come in handy.

When there was no quick reply, Ebon smiled and nodded. "It's a bit sudden, I know....I was surprised when she asked yet again. It is out of respect for your teachings and your Goddess that I relayed her offer."

Then he sat back in his chair, fingers folded together in front of him. "The other idea I had was also inspired by our—well, really your encounter with that same pryokine, alongside a chance meeting I had recently with an old friend, Kruger. He's a blacksmith by trade, specializing in arms and armor." Raising a hand to forestall any objection, the man in black continued. "I remember from that night at Teas 'n' Tomes when Ed Batten suggested crafting armor for you, but armor is not the Scathachian way. However, you did seem more receptive to the idea of....shields. Normally a shield wouldn't be much use against flames, magical or otherwise, because it would quickly get too hot to handle. However, Kruger has recently come upon an ore that, when added to alloys, makes them resistant to heat and flame. Practical for defense on more than one level, that."

Reaching into his belt pouch, Ebon drew out a card and set it down on the table. "This is Kruger's contact information. He does very good work, he treats each new project as something sacred. I've already contract him to provide blades for close melee work, for the Rhy'din coast guard that I've been tasked with organizing." He fell silent for a moment, knowing that the incident that prompted suggestion of such a fleet was close to the Scathachians. "If you wish to provide designs, he can deliver....or, if you would prefer to rely on your own smiths, he may be willing to provide you with the ore. Again, the offer is on the table, but the choice is yours."

Ebon's dark eyes met Isuelt's brown gaze without flinching, and he held the stare for a long moment before speaking again. "Thank you. I'll let Kruger know you're interested, and leave it between you to arrange further contact. As for Narisa..." He took a sip of the tea, and his expression softened into a brief smile of thanks to Sheryl before shifting back to a more neutral tone.

"I won't lie. I worry that she'll try to go off on her own and go looking for wrongs to make right....the fact that she has sat and listened to more than a few of my own tales of heroism hasn't helped. She is impetuous at times....fiery, if you'll pardon the pun, and she is much in need of guidance though she would never admit it." Ebon took another sip of the tea, paused, then sighed as if realizing an unfortunate truth. "To be honest, I would rather see her learning through the example of your Order than from some of Rhy'din's other....avenging heroes. As much as I respect and admire their courage, this is not a time for noble heroics. This is fast becoming a time of war."

As he spoke, Ebon's own demeanor shifted slightly, from the amiable gentleman and kind-hearted father to the calm professionalism that marked a veteran soldier. "What can you tell me of this Temple of Bhaal?"

She nodded one last time over the parchment. Ebon had prepared her for the letter as well as the notion that the Scathachians would need weapons help from an outside source. It had been a thought that had been occurring for some time, since Renna had loosed her own "Sisters" on the Scathachians. Technology, in truth, was not embraced by most Scathachians, who favored a more elegant and honest type of warfare. But this was a city that was drenched in technology, as well as magic, and the Scathachians knew when to ask for help.

"Make sure this is delivered to a Mister Aristotle Kruger Allen, Master smith and Owner of Kruger's Exotic Weapons Armor and Leather," Isuelt handed her reply to a messenger. The Scathachians were spread thin these days and could not be pulled from their duties or their beloved and hard-won sleep. After a clipped nod and a hasty exit from the messenger, Isuelt looked to Janie, who was standing by her side eating an apple. "Nimue, take care to spread the word that I want all of you available for this demonstration that the blacksmith has in store for us. And specifically, I want Delphinea, Cray, Laufeia, Derinoe and Vixen available to test these items before they are officially commissioned."

"Sure thing, Illea. What about the rest of us lot' Don't we get a go?" Janie offered between bites of her golden delicious.

"Yes, of course. And if Mr. Ilnaren is correct, these shields will give us the advantage we've been needing." Her long, leather-clad legs carried her from the room, leaving Janie behind to finish her apple and start passing along Isuelt's wishes.

Mr. Allen;

Please allow me first off to thank you for your agreement to try and aid our efforts to safeguard this city. Allies are always appreciated and never forgotten. Secondly, please be clear that the esteemed title with which you have referred to me has not been earned. I am not a High Priestess, I am only a warrior who serves a Goddess.

I would be honored to learn more of your defensive weaponry, and would welcome an audience with you. I would also like to request a demonstration of these items and a basic knowledge of them. We are a holy order of women who wish to inculcate the approval of our Patroness in all that we do, and we would request the ability to serve her more aptly. I believe that your shields may help us in doing so.

I look forward to meeting you face to face and getting to see the shields in action. You are welcomed to the Scathachian Sanctuary on the Northwest Cliffs at your earliest convenience.

Respectfully, Isuelt DeRomiano

The gates loomed before the trio, they were stopped a tall lithe woman whose red hair had tumbled down her back in a startling contrast to the snow questioned their purpose. Kruger handed her the letter sent from Iseult to the forge. "It does say at my earliest convenience?" Kruger trailed off, did he call her sister" She certainly wasn't his sister, and he not a part of their order. If he called her mistress, there might be an affront that wasn't intended. Fortunately she simply took the letter without waiting for an honorific.

Kruger could feel Ebon's eyes on his back laughing, the thought made his eyes roll. The gate guardian gave him a dark look, were she a kettle he believed steam would come from here ears. Ebon had warned him of the possibility of resistance to change, but he didn't expect open hostility. The woman signaled a young female of about twelve and sent her running ahead with the letter, a second she directed to show the group to the practice field. The way the second girl winced, one would have thought the guardswoman pinched her. He gave a questioning glance to Ebon, and received a shrug as an answer. "They never give me this difficulty, must be something you did old friend." Ebon gave another laugh which set Kruger to checking his molars with the tip of his tongue, and biting down against a retort. He needed to remain professional here. He was simply trying to sell wares and services. They dismounted to follow the girl; the trip took very little time for the practice field was a vast part of the overall compound.

In his head he was going over the details of everything he had brought with him. He was nervous; a deal with an order this size could make a name for his little shop. A glance to S"jira told him that she was feeling very much as she had when they had walked into the great hall together, except she didn't have his sleeve to cling to now.

"Are you alright "jira?" He asked quietly, she paused at his question as she so often did. He believed she was actually considering if she was. Would she tell him if she weren't' There was a small nod, but she said little. Kruger moved his head to look directly into her eyes, was there fear there" His voice ran quietly to her once again. "You are my rock in this sea of chaos." He meant the words to help her, but saying them seemed to ease his own burden.

Business wouldn't wait; there was no telling how long the priestesses would linger inside before attending them. Longer would be better as it would give more time to prepare. The cart was disengaged from Ebon's horse, and the doors opened. Kruger worked quickly to set the display up. Along the front of the display were the smaller objects, less weight on the table legs would be good should it decide to buckle. That though had his skin clammy. He started with several guige, a strap used to wear a shield on the back while not in use. Wearing it this way could also deter the arrows that might otherwise find a home in a torso if you had to make a hasty retreat. Next to that were the enarms, gauntlets made specifically to accept bucklers, and some of the round targe shields.

The table on the opposite side of the cart had a display of bucklers, and some of the Diburnium alloy that was the only reason that the priestesses of Scathach might be interested in his wares. He erected a hasty portable forge and set it to light, the alloy he was placed in the hottest of the coals, a small ingot was placed on the top of it, and a second sheet of the new metal was laid atop it. He pumped the bellows with his foot.

Motion up near the sanctuary caught his attention. A procession of scantily clad women made its way toward them, it moved with the grace of the leopard on the hunt, and it was coming directly for them.

Dressed in her signature black, the first from the compound was Isuelt. A tank and cotton pants signaled that she was fresh from a training workout. Several of the women behind her were dressed similarly; Scathachians take their athletic readiness seriously, especially in such times.

She recognized Ebon, but not the two others with him immediately, though she could guess who they were. "Good afternoon, Mr. Ilnaren." A naked wave was offered; without her glove, the burn scar on her right hand was as plain as day. Though this scar was from years gone by and not from the affair with the fire dancer of recent account. Still, Isuelt and fire did not mix well and she was hoping that this friend of Ebon's would be able to aid her and her Sisters in the wake of learning of their enemies' new powers.

Her dark eyes were focused then on Kruger and his set up of a small table with weaponry arranged in their front courtyard. "We're eager to see what you've brought us." She nodded for several of the woman now gathered around her to step forward to better see the demonstration.

There was a moment, when that look between Ebon and Issy connected that Kruger could almost read. In his head he could hear cries of crowds rise and fall; he knew that a battle was coming, if not the kind he had faced before those crowds. When Iseult turned her dark eyes on him he found his peaceful place. Her words of eagerness registered in his ears, but the scrutiny was one of a warrior. Kruger posture changed towards her, if she was to judge his worth let her see that he too had pride.

He looked back at Issy, as Dephinea dropped that malachite gaze on him. His muddy green eyes held Issy's, and he let her see the determination on his face. Beneath that left eye was evidence enough that he understood that pain inflicted by the fire came with a special bite. Often he wondered what passed through those who saw for the first time the Great Wolf holding the All Seeing Eye in its mouth. He felt that something was passing between himself and the priestess to whom he looked. Her words about seeing what he had brought struck a strange chord with him. He was no longer sure she was talking about the items on the table.

The gladiator in him looked at them with a calculating indifference. He supposed that was the way of all who fought, where are they week, what strengths do I need to worry over" It was that indifference that gave him the key to his stance with these women. He offered Issy a nod that said she would see exactly what he had to bring to them.

He turned back to the table, and his hands removed the cloak which had shielded him from the chill. Kruger on an impulse took one of the larger shields off of the table. He hadn't spoken; he had decided that action would make a stronger impression to his audience. He bent over and pulled an immense cross-peen hammer from beneath the cart. Its handle was carved hardwood, and judging by the size of the head it was clearly something he would use to work metals that were more difficult. Kruger tossed the targ to the ground, its parabolic shape forming a curving mound on the ground before him. He stood an unimpressive five feet six inches tall, but his arms and shoulders were well developed. The handle of the hammer went across his shoulders, almost as though this had been the tool used to measure the man out when he was created. Kruger gave his head a shake, he couldn't believe he was about to do this. The hammer slid from his shoulders and arced in at the shield lying on the ground. The head struck the center of the shield and was accompanied by the sound of wood shattering and metal creaking as it bent.

Kruger turned to the party behind him; all eyes now regarded him differently. No small percentage seemed to regard him as though he had gone around the bend and left his horse here. "Clearly, the man holding that shield is dead." He said casually, the handle of the hammer was stuck in the air, held in place by the shambles that had been the shield.

"If that man had understood how to use the tool provided, then he would have been able to deflect a blow so easily predictable." He thought he heard an amused grunt from Ebon's direction, but that could have just as easily been a nickering horse. "I am not in the habit of destroying my stock, but I need you to know that I understand your aversion to the change that my presence represents."

I am afraid that even should we come to terms here, there will be training that needs to occur in order to understand these." He indicated the shields that remained on the table. "I also understand that you have others to whom you can turn to get similar items. I am here because of all the makers in the city; I am the only one that has a supply of a metal that may prove invaluable to your cause." Kruger could see that Ebon was still working, he was grateful for the time.

He pulled the two pieces of Diburnium from the flames in the forge with a pair of tongs. He set it down and used the tongs to separate the two pieces, and then he looked to the group of women and used his bare hand to pluck the ingot that had been placed between the two sheets. It was warm, but not as warm as it should have been from being in the flames for so long. He handed the ingot to Issy to inspect, and turned back to the two sheets of the strange alloy. He put his hand on the black metal; however he used the tongs to turn the it over. He dropped his hand into the quench bucket cupping some water in his palm. He spread some droplets onto the surface of the alloy. There was a sizzling sound as droplets of water danced across the surface. There was interest developing a few of the ladies before him.

Kruger's wolf branded face looked to Ebon; the thought was heard inside his head. He sent one of his own to the man, I do know this however for some reason I felt the need to shock them out of any preconception of me and what I represent. Kruger retraced the path he had taken over to Ebon; he stopped in front of the gear he had gathered. He produced a harness from the depths of the cart; it was leather and well worn. There were places in it that had been repaired, much of it showed evidence of recently being re-stitched. He was glad that he no longer faced the priestesses as he regarded this simple thing. S"jira was the only one who had a view of his face. At once a wave of emotions swept across his face. It started with panic, and morphed into pain, the pain became a deep sorrow that tried desperately to pull moisture from his eyes. Kruger could see questions forming from in her dark eyes, but she held her silence. His head came up once more, and the shoulders straightened, triumph and victory lay in those memories as well. His breathing changed in that moment, he seemed to want to draw as much air inside him as possible. He reached to his shirt collar and pulled it up over his head. It wasn't often he chose to take his shirt off, when he fought in the arena's he had been given no choice, but that had been long ago.

The skin of his back was more scar than skin. It was clear that he had been abused often by a whip tipped with hooks. It was also evident that he had been healed enough to preserve the integrity of the muscles across his wide back. They flexed and stretched as he pulled away the concealing fabric. He donned the leather harness, straps over his shoulders another pair streamed down his back and was taken between legs and buckled tight. It would have perhaps been better to use some form of mail such as Ebon wore, but he too had an aversion to carrying more weight than necessary into battle. This had been his uniform for more than ten years, before and after he became part of the pens owned by Fenris.

Now he began to assemble the pieces on his display table. The bracers first, they needed to be secured in such a way that the weight of the buckler would not cause them to rub at his arms. Next he attached the giuge to the one of the targes, and that went into place over his back. Finally he strapped on a belt that contained to sculpted war hammers, left was winged angels. This hammer's head was an arc angel flying with sword pointed forward. It's wings joined feet in a wedge shape that would make short work of the joints of plated armor.

The right was devils crawling up the haft which resembled a forearm. This ended in a bone wielding clawed fist. One end was broken and served as the point, and the rear of the hammer was the unbroken end of the bone. There was no wedge on this hammer, its stylized head seemed to speak of what it was intended for, to break armor and bone.

He looked back to Ebon, and being satisfied that the man was ready he looked back to the black clad Issy. He gave her a salute, the oath was mouthed silently by habbit. "We who are about to die salute you." He then pointed the empty practice field. "May we use the field for this demonstration??

It was perhaps curious that someone like Isuelt DeRomiano was all but taciturn during this exchange. However, in situations like this, where her mind was going in several directions at once all at full speed, she found that her laconism spoke volumes. She let her robust presence be the compulsion that most people needed to make their best arguments.

Isuelt's statuesque form stood silent as she watched Kruger, Ebon and S'jira set up and prepare their demonstration. Her arms were folded over her chest, defining her toned arms further and her darkly lashed eyes were trained on the table of weaponry. There was only the slightest flinch that skidded across her brow as Kruger abused the thin metallic shield. And a further arch of a brow as he removed his shirt and reveal his scars as he changed into something more appropriate for the battle exhibition. Her espresso eyes flickered to her Sister, Phin, momentarily before returning to give her full attention back to Kruger and his preparations.

As Kruger saluted the Scathachian and offered a gladiatorial oath, her tanned lips bit back a smile. Her bistered head bowed to the weapons maker as she extended an arm toward the larger part of the grounds which was free of most trees and shrubs. It would indeed do well as a practice field. She, and the rest of her Sisters, awaited what they hoped would be the answer to their prayers.

Ebon was fast, Kruger had only the blink of an eye to have the hammers out of their homes. It had been many years since he had seen Ebon fight. Kruger had wielded a different weapon then. Strange that he had been on an opposing side that day too. Kruger managed to get his buckler up, and met the incoming scimitars on the buckler with sunrise in the east. He countered and baiting the lion was met by folding the dunes. Smashing the legion scored on Ebon's chest, but Caesar's kiss was bested by raising the sands.

The opening engagement was a flourish of activity, each testing the others speed and reaction time. Kruger fell into last man standing, to keep facing the moving Ebon who had taken up cat at the oasis. A kingfisher strike was met with temporary alliance, which turned quickly into snaring the trident. Ebon countered with pruning the roses. Every move had a defense, and every defense became a counterstrike as the two men moved through the field. Kruger could spare no glances to the watchers; a moment's distraction would be enough for a scimitar to find something other than an upraised buckler, or deftly wielded hammer.

Dew on the thorn bush was stopped by avoiding the decision. The dance of the two men continued back and forth in an endless display of move and counter move, the transitions from offense to defense flowing so smoothly that the display looked like one long and extravagant dance. Kruger moved into drawing the line while Ebon pushed a scimitar into setting the hook, this swiftly became finding the pearl, and an opening in that superb defense was finally achieved. Kruger had nearly made it back into granting of freedom when he felt the tip of Ebon's sword slide between the hammer and the buckler. He tried to counter with seizing the advantage but as the pointed end of the angelic hammer wrapped itself around his attack the edge of the sword sliced away the leather holding the buckler to his arm.

The sudden weight change overbalanced him and caused the move to falter. A quick circular parry by the scimitar had the hammer sailing across the field and landing in front of the watching sisters, its point embedded haft deep in the soil. He spared no time observe the erratic movement to the hammer's progress. He didn't know if Ebon had adjusted the course slightly, or a Scathachian Chakra had done the job. There were no yells from that end of the field so he stayed in the fight. He barely fended off coupe de grace with raising the drawbridge. The Shield that had once been worn at the back was reached for and a bulging bicep ripped it free of its bonds. The sound of a scimitar striking the newly positioned shield followed that hammer with a solid thwack. Kruger backed a step and fell into guard on the ramparts, while Ebon took the stance of chasing the locust. There was a mark on Kruger's neck from where the strap had been forcibly removed.

The two men held each other's gaze, Kruger's burnt grass orbs straight into the black eyed stare of Ebon. Respect was no luxury; it was a commodity that had to be earned. The beginning was there, but this demonstration was not nearly at its end.

As the volley of arrows took flight Kruger went immediately into come in out of the rain. He angled the shield to accept the arrows and knelt behind that cover, he suspected Ebon might try to follow that deadly hail in whilst his eyes were blocked. He sprang from his position, keeping that shield in play and charged forward queen bee's sting was a dangerous maneuver. The act of running into a hail of arrows exposed pieces of him briefly making legs vulnerable, the tears that appeared in his trousers flashed bare skin as he ran forward. Leaf bladed arrow heads punched through the wooden shield. A few managed to pierce the leather padding that lined the inside of the shield. Kruger didn't know what size quiver that Ebon had on his saddle. He assumed forty arrows, but really had no way to keep an account of how many he had seen or felt. Turtle sheds his shell sent the arrow studded shield flying towards Ebon. Kruger understood that the other man could as easily stop the thing with his mind, an ordinary man however would need to defend against it somehow, and in that moment would feel the final strike. Kruger however stopped, he sent the hammer back into the loop at his belt, and gazed at Ebon with that broad grin. The lines at his eyes deepened, and the wolf branded into his face seemed to bow into the universal sign of play.

Kruger gave a salute to Ebon, and a dip of his head. "It has been too long since I have faced someone with your skills Ebon. " He looked to the shield, arrows rose from it at awkward angles. He gave a loud laugh as he thought on what he looked at.

"I now have two shields I can't get half price for." He bent to retrieve the shield, and checked the damage to it. "It could be worse, and of course the priestesses are not in the market for your average wooden armament. Let's go give that final demonstration Ebon."

Kruger recovered the buckler and bracer on the way back to the watching women. It had been a long time indeed where a fight hadn't depended on points, or been life and death. If nothing else came from this trip at the least he had been able to just have fun with an old friend without regard for consequences.

There was a red strip at his neck from where he had torn the strap away from the shield. He had only just begun to notice it and the other small pains these would surely be felt with greater intensity later. For now he still had a job to do. He laid the shields back on the table he had taken them from, and shrugged out of that harness. He let it drop to the ground before stepping out of it and bent to pick up the hammer that had embedded itself in the earth. This he lovingly wiped clean and deposited back at his belt, and faced the watchers.

"Too right, Isuelt, and while I appreciate your indulgence, it can only go so far....so let us get to the heart of the matter." Ebon walked over to the pony he'd brought, and began loosening the straps around the bundle on its back. He nodded towards the smith, who had retrieved a new shield from the post where it hung. "There's a shield made of Kruger's new alloy....he's volunteered to play defense, trusting in his own handiwork. Meanwhile, I get to provide the fire."

Now Ebon hefted an ungainly contraption, slipping his arms through a pair of straps, so that the bulk of it settled on his back, leaving only a tube-like nozzle connected to the rest by a flexible hose. "While I am capable of igniting a flame, I can't direct it the way....well, the way the Bhaalite fire-thrower can. So I've acquired a mechanical substitute. It's bulky and ill-suited for close combat, but it will do for our purposes today. I apologize in advance for the residual aroma." He glanced over at Kruger. "Ready, sir?"

"Take your best shot," the smith replied, raising his shield.

With a chuckle, Ebon approached Kruger until he was about 10 feet away, raised the nozzle—which had a small flame at its tip—and squeezed a trigger.

Flames burst forth, targeted right at Kruger.

Compressed Nitrogen pushed liquid petrol across that tiny flame in the nozzle of the device that Ebon carried. Nitrogen was a wise choice for this type of weapon due to its flame resistant properties. The use of some other propellant could entice the fire to trail back into the tanks and explode on the user. While a sight of that nature would be something most intriguing to witness, it is definitely not what you want to happen on the battle field.

Kruger understood little of the science behind the device Ebon used. True that he had seen replicas come through his forge of the crude devices used by the Byzantine during their campaigns. Their design however was like comparing a bronze sword to a steel one. Ebon's mechanical marvel far surpassed the early design, but the principal was still the same.

Kruger only had moments with which to gather this information before the conflagration engulfed him. Then he heard the voice of the fire as it struck home on the shield. The initial hit from the blast carried some kinetic energy. It was far less than he anticipated, the force of a medium wave striking home on the beach down by the docks. He had to quickly adjust his stance or be overbalanced; Kruger dipped slightly throwing his forward leg further in front of him. The flames screamed to him words of freedom and destruction. The fires themselves understood nothing else; they had been yoked and harnessed with the promise of destruction. These were no ordinary forge fires, just as an assassin is no cat burglar.

The problem as he saw it with this military grade equipment was the liquid petrol. What it contacted it would cling to. The surface of the shield became a flaming mass that must burn until one of its key elements was gone. If Ebon had been an enemy he would simply rush the man and push that flaming shield into him. Ebon however was no enemy so instead Kruger stood slowly, yet deliberately. He used his free right hand to put away Hell, and grab her partner heaven. He took his time to show the watchers that behind that shield all was well. He knew that many of the Scathach priestesses carried the Chakram, therefore his ability to confidently switch weapons would mimic their being able to take up the Chakram and create an offense from a defensive position. He raised and loosed Heaven, an angel in flight slid through the air once more its trip much shorter than the previous one. Kruger had angled it in close enough to the man to let all who saw know that had he intended contact, it would have been achieved. Instead it buried itself into the ground at Ebon's feet.

When the surging flames were finally cut off, Kruger stood there still safely protected behind the still burning shield. The intensity of the blaze had been immense; the unprotected moments had caused the skin to heat with the air. The heat to weld the two pieces together however had been so much hotter. He had needed special goggles to see the surfaces as he worked them together. Without them he couldn't make out the bead of molten metal that he had worked around the outside of that shield. The intensity of that blaze had left him sunburned for days after.

The stoic nature of the blonde behemoth eased toward Kruger, though none could see it. To be sure, her dislike and distrust of men were widely known facts. Though, this weapons maker elicited a response from Delphinea that most men would never dream to boast of. The blonde beauty's brow arched as she watched the fire spring forth and crash upon the shield in Kruger's grasp as the angry sea ravages a rocky coast during a storm. As the weapons smith was not only unhurt, but the shield showed nearly no signs of wear, she turned to Isuelt with widened malachite eyes.

No word did she utter, still she conveyed her opinion to her commander with a swift nod of her head as the unmistakable expression of awe resided in her emerald gaze. She could already feel her confidence in the coming war growing. With this shield at their disposal, and possibly other weapons made of the same alloy, they would be able to stand up to the fire dancer of the Temple of Bhaal, and the very fires of hell themselves.

Then, as Kruger took a knee in front of Isuelt, Delphinea's surprise deepened. A small miracle occurred then. As she briefly met the weapons maker's gaze, she nodded to him. Her respect was his.

As she watched the final display, her inhale and sharpened gaze spoke the volumes that her voice did not. A lick of her lips as the soot and ash were simply wiped away from the shield, she was nearly salivating at the thought of having those weapons in their arsenal.

However, as surprised as she was at the metal's resistance to fire, it paled in comparison to the weapons maker's actions. She was by no means a queen, nor anyone who deserved to have people kneel before her. Yet, here Kruger was, on his knees before the brunette Scathachian, pledging his weapons to her cause. For an instant she was embarrassed, her dark eyes looked quickly left and right. Her Sisters, principally Delphinea had taken note of Kruger's gesture.

She reached forward toward him, at first she was going to yank him to his feet. But then, she thought different and simply held her hand to grip his in a firm shake. It was by no means a gesture of master to a suppliant, instead it was a bonding grip as she accepted his aid. "We would be honored not only for your expertise in creating more of these shields for us, master Kruger, we would also be further honored to accept your help in matters that offend our Temple and our goddess, Scathach." She bowed her head to him and then pulled on his hand to facilitate him to his feet. "My great thanks, and the thanks of the Scathachian Nation. With your help, we will be able to move one step further toward facing our enemies with a greater power."

Promises had been made to these women. He was not one to go back on his word, so Kruger found himself pulling that cart up to the Sanctuary once again. This time however it was filled with what he had time to complete. The lightening of his burden by Miss Branson had made this easier.

He still hadn't acquired a horse to pull the cart; it had served well enough in the past with simple Kruger power. He had labels for the pieces indicating who received which ones, custom measurements meant for best use. It was true that the pieces themselves could have served any of the women, but Kruger understood that the difference between an inch too long and injury was nil.

Kruger was directed to wait; some novices came eventually and began to unload his shipment. He offered his assistance, but a young redhead girl apologetically rebuffed him. He assumed it had to do with their duty and his not being a member of the faith. He did understand that the pieces would go to receive blessings. When the novices began to pull a square wooden box from the cart Kruger forestalled them.

"This one...It must go directly to Janie." His brow furrowed at the look of confusion on the faces of the unloaders. He looked to the senior women around feeling helpless on how to get his point across. "Please, it is a gift for a service she gave me." There was a tittering of laughs as he spoke; clearly he had said the wrong thing.

One of the trainers came over at the laughter, and was whisperingly briefed by the closest novice. "I will see that she receives this good smith." There was a smirk on her face that said she knew what kind of service warranted gifts. She remained silent though and under her scrutiny the cart was quickly unloaded. Kruger simply stood there wondering what he had said that had everyone in a tizzy.

"More will arrive as it becomes available." He spoke to the trainer, confident that to speak to one Priestess was to speak to them all. He felt surveyed for a moment, but he had been having this feeling for many days now. It could all have just been his imagination.

When Janie finally received this gift, she would find inside a purple velvet encasement holding a bracer made from an alloy he had put together of Mithril and Adamantine. Attached to it was the Chakram she had loaned to him that day at the docks. The lid had a separate compartment that unsnapped and revealed two more Chakram, steel encased in the new alloy, a black disk with silvery sharpened edge. In this compartment is an informal note for Janie.

Janie I do not know how useful it will be, as I have never seen its like before, but the bracer has a catch that will easily release the Chakram should the need to throw it become necessary. It could prove useful worn at the forearm in close battle, or it could just be an encumbrance. I hope that it proves useful, should that not be the case, please let me know upon our next encounter.

Thank you,

Kruger