#* ⌜ dammon ⇝ ic ⌟ ─ bread and butter tinsmith

[infinitysagas]

Sender: @avernusfuries Prompt: i cannot count the number of times i've been ripped off a barstool & thrown in a cage . - dammon!

“I . . .” the smith held onto the single syllable for a moment while allowing himself a moment to really look at Karlach, trying to imagine anyone grabbing her away from a stool. Bet even if a fully armored Fist was able to do it, she wouldn't leave them without a bruise to answer for the act. A light chuckle came from him before he continued speaking. “Forgive me, I just can't fathom the image of you being torn from anything without you being willing.”

A hand gestured vaguely at her body. “Just look at you,” he said with an incredulous grin. “Perhaps you were smaller in these stories you tell but if you're anything close to what you are now? I hardly believe a single word of what you told me a moment ago. Unless you were piss drunk and practically wobbling off of that barstool already.”

The right touch of alcohol on the tongue made even the most fearsome of warriors an easy conquer.

[infinitysagas]

Sender: @rotdame Sent: HEY .. !! dammon .. !! just the person i wanted to see .

He hardly listened to his crowded surroundings but his head perked up at the mention of his name.

The tiefling smith beamed. “ Lil 'ol me? I can't fathom why unless you have some work that needs to be done - not that that's a bad thing. For the life of me, I can't think of the exact quote but it's something negative about having idle hands. So if you can keep me busy I shan't complain. ”

[infinitysagas]

Sender: @avernusfuries Prompt: I don't want you to go. - dammon? :D

Warmth spread from his cheeks to the tips of his ears. Simultaneously he felt how his heart beat against his chest. With six words the barbarian had done more to him than a romantic ballad from the most skilled of bards.

“Seems to me that I should stay, then.”

A hand rested on her shoulder, happy to touch her now that she wouldn't burn the skin off of his body. Dammon couldn't imagine it. Being around enemies for so long just to escape but being unable to touch anyone you could care about. He had to guess she was touch starved and now that she could make contact he would be happy to help soothe her if he could.

“My work can wait.”

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Sender: @mccnrxse Prompt:    “   Hey, how’d you learn how to do that?   ” (Dammon & Karlach)

“Heh- repetition really.” A genuine smile as bright eyes took a break from his finished work to take in the barbarian. “A mentor who thought I was worth apprenticing. No easy task, that.”

“Spent my time making sure they never regretted taking me on. Now if you want to know how I got into infernal crafting, well, quite sure you know most of the story.”

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“Then there you have it,” he said, confidence easily heard in his voice. Such a simple thing to him, taking her at her word. What he trusted more than her fighting prowess was the kindness she displayed. Karlach wanted to see them survive this. He believed she'd put her all towards that end.

Reaching out for her weapon he was careful to keep his hands a certain distance from her's due to the heat of her touch. The first thing he noticed when she would release the axe was the heft of it. Seemed to him that it was heavier than he would make an axe of similar size but he figured this was owing to her strength. The additional weight would have little to no effect on her swing. If anything it could make the downswing more effective.

Taking it to a free spot in his workspace he sat it down. Nails ran along the blade, noting the chipping from years of striking armor and bone. It looked dirty but that came as no surprise. Who had time to properly care for their weapon while being forced to fight in the blood war? Besides, her heat would burn so much onto the metal.

“I can tell that you get a lot of mileage out of your weapon,” he said jokingly with a short laugh. “Based on the wear I'd say it's been years since this fine axe has gotten taken care of. Weapon maintenance not being a priority for the denizens of the Hells. Well, if you hope to hold onto it longer I can fix it for you. Though this would also make a great wall ornament if you would rather I forge you something new.”

Had it been any ordinary venture from one point to the next, Karlach might've offered that they travel with them. With the tadpoles to content with, it was not a journey she was certain they would be able to survive, where every twist and turn of the road would unveil a new danger that it would be unfair to ask of them to shoulder. Refugees from all walks of life, and not all of them soldiers or warfaring people, would not be able to adapt as quickly.

Something about Dammon's words sent a comfortable heat prickling up the sides of her neck, where it settled hotly in her cheeks. She thanked whoever had their eye on her that it was not something easily seen outside of the lift of her hand to scratch at her jaw. It was a flustered tell, and once she caught wind of it, her hand dropped to her side, where her hand quickly balled into a fist and was hidden behind her lower back. The other one was quicker to follow.

"Then you have my word. So long as I draw breath, I will make sure we make it so you can have a fresh start somewhere. Preferably with as little losses as I can help."

It was the least she could've done for Elturel. An apology outside of her stowing away the few she managed to before she'd made a beeline for that nautiloid. The conversation shifted and Karlach moved to unhitch her axe from her shoulder. "I think this has seen better days. I can go grab whatever bits that might put her into better shape, if you've an idea where I can look for the stuff for it."

The weapon in question was offered, the blade of the axe chipped and worn from well over eight years of the blood war, and dirty, still, with the blood of everyone she had fought. Cleaning it had been a futile thing, when the heat of her hands had burned it onto the metal. Now she had friends, she might ask them for help in future.

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Unfortunately, Dammon's eyes looked beyond the current troubles on the road. Something foul was settling in the air and it wasn't just what wafted over from whatever hole the goblins were spawning out of. The road to the gate was hardly a short one. Many obstacles might block this Tiefling band of refugees following this one. They might not be fortunate enough to find another druid's grove to hide in.

His tasks allowed him to ignore the doubts. Beyond that, Karlach's smile was the reassuring sort. If nothing else, he swore to resolve the issues with her engine before he went down to some stray goblin's arrow.

“I'm not known for being the picky sort, Karlach Cliffgate,” he said with an odd sort of pride. “Sure, a paladin's sworn oath might carry quite a lot of weight. But in my eyes, the word of a barbarian who has fought her way through the Hells is heftier still. You looked me in the eye and promised to clear our path and I believe you wholeheartedly.”

His head nodded toward his anvil. “Tell me if you need me to work on something special. To keep your word you'll have to have the right tools.”

"Are you implying that being big, red and on fire would blow my cover? For all you know I could be the best rogue you ever laid your eye on," She shot back, and her grin broadened. It was a funny thing, really, imagining herself to be the sneaky sort, but she had always lacked patience and the tell-tale forgetting of having to hide a nice, long tail would always be her undoing.

"Tell you what, with how sneaky those kids are, I reckon they've a promising career as sneak-thieves ahead of them." There was a pause, before Karlach hurried to add: "Don't tell them that, though. Reckon Mol's got it in her head she will be the best thief in the world in the future."

While she worried about her, she knew the little tiefling would have a good life ahead of her. She was smarter than most were at that age. The conversation shifted, and she was quick to hold his eye. The dangers of the road ahead of them was not something that was entirely lost on her. Not everyone was born to fight their way through fire and brimstone for a mere taste of sanctuary, and her grin turned more reassuring than anything else.

"Look, we're gonna clear the way for you lot. You will see the city or my name isn't Karlach Cliffgate. If I were a paladin, I'd swear it. Unfortunately for you, I am a barbarian, and that just means you gotta take me at my word."

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“Now that, I can believe.” Instead of imagining a drunken Karlach dragged from a barstool in some high-class spot in the Upper City, his mind turned to the poor Fist who was charged with her removal. Wondering how they decided which one of them had the unfortunate task of wrangling the massive Teifling out of the place. A thought that would provide him more than a bit of entertainment for the next couple of days.

Almost snorting at her next comment he shook his head. “Somehow I don't see you as the sneaking sort. Hard to miss and all that.” His arms crossed over his chest and he shrugged his shoulders. “Suppose I can always ask the children for tips regarding getting into places they shouldn't be. Surely they have some practice.”

His throat cleared for a moment before he continued. “Thank you, Karlach,” he began. “For assuming we'll make it to Baldur's Gate. Some aren't so confident.”

"Oh, believe you me, I didn't think so either," Karlach shot back with a loud bark of laughter. The truth of the matter was, a few drinks in, it didn't take much to haul her off of her perch, though there would be a few heavy swings of too-clumsy hands to contend with. Depending on the Fist in question, these were very easily dodged when push came to shove. "I was just about to turn twenty, was drinking in the Upper City because Gortash had got me a shoe-in up there. Noble didn't like it too much and -- whoops, out on my arse I went. I can still taste the gravel I ate when they threw me back through the gates to the Lower City."

Rose-tinted or not, and though the edges of that memory had been soured by everything else that had happened, it was a pretty good time. Well, mostly. The formal Upper City parties were something she sifted through in order to fall fast asleep now that she was free to do so.

There was a pause, where Karlach puffed up like a prize bird, being marvelled at from the perch of a finger. "Nope, same size. Just completely and utterly bevvied." There was a pause. "Tell you what, if we meet in the city, we can sneak into the Upper City fancy-folk areas and you can see it for you yourself."