Blood Copper Gauntlets

[18:59] Roland Hartz says, "Now... Let's see.."
[18:59] And with that put in the straw hat's capable hands, she turns to the anvil. The artificer takes from the chest nearby several hunks of glittering green arcanium and the single hunk of bright red blood copper.

No need for a forge when she has an abundance of fire and magmatic magic at her command. She takes a headband from her belongings, ties it on to keep her hair out of her eyes in lieu of the shades, and starts to work the ores like they're clay, combining, folding, mixing them all there on the anvil.

The corner of her mouth twitches upward into a smirk as the sinka finds its way into her locks.

"I trust ya to do the basics enough well. I might rearrange dependin' on how I use the space.

But tell me. I'm curious."

The sound of faint, hammering blows as she forms the ore into plates.

"Why ain't ya kill Rajak?"
(Katrin)
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[18:59] A sigh, and he took out a piece of paper. Jotting down where particular pieces of furniture would go, and where others wouldn't. A glance was given to Katrin, before he looked back down at the paper to continue what he was doing.

"--Well... If ya wanna know the truth?"

He put the paper in his pocket.

"I wanted his near death experience to be slow, and painful. Figured I would hurt and scare him so badly, that it would make 'em start to regret what he did to others."

Moving a cushion off to the side, he unbuttoned his coat, and rolled up his sleeves. Yes, the abs were present.

"--Though that's unlikely. Yet I'll find 'em again... And Take care of 'em."
(Roland Hartz)
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[18:59] "I do prefer the truth from ya, yeah," she remarks. The plates to form the base of a great gauntlet are painstakingly formed over the horn of the anvil, given the final shape they will need.

But a few of them are treated differently. While the palm plate is still hot she sets the bottle of living lightning in it, nestling it in there carefully so as not to give herself a nasty shock.

On the back plate she conversely nestles the spiritual gem that housed the souls of Moxtli's fallen warriors. Both are treated with the care of an expert, the care they are do.

"Were ya gonna kill him for hurtin' people. Or for what he is?"
(Katrin)
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[18:59] "I would kill him for what he's done. My motto, 'an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.' He's killed people, so he'll die too." Fixing his straw hat, he walked over to inspect some of the walls. Poking, and flicking them even.

"He's made people suffer. I'm tryin' to return the favor to 'em." He would turn to Katrin for a second though, watching her work. "What do ya think?"
(Roland Hartz)
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[18:59] {LONG DISTANCE FROM: Adrian Ivanovich}: Adrian Ivanovich's Letter To Katrin, 1839, Dear Katrin,

There has been some updates. We should meet. Meet me in Achyon at your earliest convenience.

Yours, Adrian.
[18:59] The artificer is absorbed by her work. She puts herself into it, heart and soul. Even if she can maintain some semblance of banter. This here is what she's made for. Work to echo through eons.

Briefly she looks up from her work, smiles, and nods.

"Yeah. S'lookin' good. Lot better than I could do."

Either his answer to the other question satisfied her, or she's too wrapped up in her labors to reply properly. A multitude of plates of an arcanium and blood copper mix are affixed to supple, tanned leather. A pair of gauntlets with cruel, spiked knuckles.

The kind meant to bring down dragons if they needed to. The though pleases her.

A few more finishing touches. Toratori had spared nothing in expense to give her plenty to work with. The artificer starts lining the interior and the cuffs of the gauntlets with soft, magical rabbit fur from a certain vast, subterranean beast.

"...Don't think it'll be my best. S'a shame," she mutters.
(Katrin)