Dinner and a Plan

Duniya thought for a few moments, and then gave a nod of the head.

"Certainly."

She slowly and patiently ate her meal.
(Duniya Vartuul)
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Maertock would swagger forth into the depths of the café with a carefree click of his serrated rows of teeth; the shadow shark in high spirits as he felt, for once, everything was at last coming together. It was finally time to get a real weapon.

As a pirate lord is like to, the seven foot Sirenian would take up two seats on the other side of the dining table.

"Hope I'm not intruding. Not that it'd bother me none. I've come with some truly zany rarities Duniya; want to make a legendary cursed cutlass in a pool of lava upon an anvil of flowing shadows? It'll be fun."

The shark would kick his feet up on the table.
(Maertock Reave)
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 Duniya saw Maertock enter, and it prompted no emotion aside a curious smile. Her bright maroon eyes followed his movements with a silent chill of predation behind them. When he found his seat, she listened, and offered her response swiftly.

"Maertock Reave," she said, removing her hand from the small of Malthasar's back to steeple her fingers, "how could I deny such an opportunity to stretch my proverbial muscles in the art of artificery?" She peered at him curiously.

"I hope I'm correct in assuming you're going to supply said anvil of shadows."
(Duniya Vartuul)
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 Maertock would chuckle earnestly with cheer as he spread his massive arms wide, the Captain of the Deep Company nothing if not one with a love for accursed imagery at the end of the day. This was the pirate's life.

"There are many ways you could deny it, but still, I appreciate it. There is no one better for the task."

The Captain would nod firmly at that, flashing a serrated grin to the Vartuul as he snickered with cheer.

"I can't spoil it all til we get to the sight, can I? But yes, the anvil of shadows will be supplied by my person; the way I see it there's no better way to bond with a freshly reforged, truly cursed weapon than to be the very cradle of its ascension."
(Maertock Reave)
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 Duniya nodded at his sentiment. It was how she preferred people to be when it came to creating such weapons.

"Music to my ears. One cannot truly call themselves the owner of a weapon unless they ushered its birth in themselves."

She seemed particularly agreeable on this day. Perhaps even somewhat cheerful herself, in the way that she spoke. Perhaps not in her words, but in the cadence that carried them. Years had changed Duniya Vartuul, that was for certain.

"Well... if you'd care to join us for dinner, then we can discuss the plans you have in mind."

She looked over to the red-head beside her.

"Do you mind this old friend of mine joining us?"
(Duniya Vartuul)
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Maertock Reave says, "Ohohoho...I do like good food."
 The red-head would be working on eating the rest of her pork-cutlets, munching along while watching the large fish-like male speak to Duniya in a crude if not friendly tone. And since Dun spoke back so jovially, the young woman would assume they were of some sort of relation.

"I don't mind at all dear Duniya… shall we order you something then sir?" She asked before appraising him a little.

"Perhaps the same as Duniya's tastes, red meat? They also serve plenty of soups, wines and ales here." She would pass over the menu towards the man, smiling politely.
(Malthasar)
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 Maertock would snort with amusement as he clicked his rows of serrated teeth together, kicking his feet up comfortably upon the table as his massive, seven foot frame splayed out across two chairs. It was typical of the reaver lord to be at least mildly debaucherous; doubly so when he was wearing his black pants.

"Red meat never hurts. Raw, cooked, anything meat. Anything booze too. It's all I subsist off of."

The Captain would nod firmly at that.

"As with any cursed weapon, it begins with a story. That of a dread pirate by the name of Captain Saltspite. He sailed the seas before the deep swallowed him whole; and his skeleton found purchase as a thrall of a mermaid necromancer circa some fifteen years ago."

The shadow shark would light a cigar at that, flourishing his rusty cutlass and black, tricorn hat of whispers with a snicker of mirth.

"We gave him a true death; his blade, tricorn hat, and mantle as a dread pirate became mine own. It's forged of ancient mithril, rusty and worn by the entropy of the deep sea. It is the core of the weapon we shall create; and in honor of its origin so I shall dub it Saltspite."
(Maertock Reave)
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 Duniya continued to eat her own meal, after Maertock's order was placed, listening to his story. Of course, it was a pirate's tale. Why would she expect anything less?

It wasn't a long one, Maertock condensed it down rather well.

"Saltspite it is then.

Not a bad name... very pirate-like, from what I know about pirates."

She thought on his idea, and it was quite a simple one. A reforge-job. Anything with enough heart and effort put behind it could create something truly amazing, though. It was how she forged her own weapon, after all. At its heart was her own great-uncle's weapon, now one of the most powerful pieces of killing capacity in all Esshar.

"I believe this idea of yours has great potential, provided you have... the right materials."
(Duniya Vartuul)
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 Maertock would nod steadily at that, dredging a claw into the depths of the inky, flowing darkness that manifested his being as the Captain of the Deep Company considered the matter at hand. A brilliant blue gem that pulsated lightly with mana; and a distant resonant image of six companions entirely carefree.

"It's been a long while, but I got this in our second place performance long ago within the shadow games. Murtock and I, Lanys, Sparkle, Kat....all gone now. And yet, it remains, a permanent memory of what we achieved together as friends."

The Captain was waxing nostalgic at that, but the priceless gem was a solid core for the effort at hand considering the etheric nature of shadows.

After that, a crimson red, flowing node appeared to be manifested forth with a shimmering, metallic and ghostly quality.

"This...I reckon, is soul steel. Found it in the gut of a kraken I killed, seemed like it had been there for a long while, soaked up a whole bunch of his ancient malevolence. I reckon we could split it in half, alloy the nyeshk in one shadow crucible, the arcanium in the other. Three ingots of each I reckon, you see this isn't any ordinary reforging. The silver core, then the heavy metal layering for proper weight. If we're blending the line between a cutlass and a cleaver, we're on the right track."

Maertock would nod lightly.

"The outermost layering of arcanim for the final blade and edge will not just cover the nyeshk. Bonded to it by the split, abyssal soulsteel, it'll be as if they're one and the same for weighting."

Maertock would snort.

"Got your interest yet? There's more."

(Maertock Reave)
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 Duniya was quiet as he spoke, and demonstrated his materials. Everything he had gathered for the project, or at least most of it. A brilliant gem, a ghostly form of steel... dyed crimson? Arcanium, as well. So far, so good, she thought.

"...Very interesting."

The names he mentioned held real estate in her head as well. People she knew, once upon a time. None of them that she'd personally call friends. Some even enemies at one point in time.

"Yes, you've piqued my curiosity."

She gave a small smirk, as she continued to eat her meal.
(Duniya Vartuul)
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 Maertock would snicker with amusement as he deposited the rest of the trinkets, leaving only the final piece of the accursed reforging at hand with a thoughtful click of his serrated rows of teeth.

The best for last, as they say.

Nothing less than a reagent out of a cosmic horror story emerged from Maertock's sifting, shadowy being. A flowing ,bisected tentacle that writhed ambiently like a slithering snake. It appeared to extend and flow forth at its own beckoning, but when firmly grasped in Maertock's hand his shadows made it work to his command.

"This? This is a severed tentacle of a living depthling. I reckon it's still out there somewhere; heralds of my dark god are well known for their otherworldly resilience. I believe that with a bit of ingenuity, we can use three bits of orichalchum to wire it directly into the gem that will sit in the handle; becoming the new handle in a manner. The final piece."
(Maertock Reave)
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 Maertock Reave says, "Where there are no veins, we shall create them. Or I shall, I suppose. I have dabbled in fleshcrafting once in a blue moon for scholastic purposes."
 She stared, and looked upon the tentacle. It was kind of disgusting, but she'd seen worse. If it weren't for the fact that she knew Maertock already, she'd probably be repulsed, though. It was a curious idea. An amalgamation of flesh and metal...

Something that would typically be better suited to the likes of the more sociopathic crafters in Achyon. But, she knew that he had butted heads with them and such alliance was impossible now. She won his pseudo-loyalty in a duel... the least she could do was make him this weapon as he pleased, so she said,

"Fantastic.

It'll be a horrifying weapon for sure. You've got quite the plan, Reave. I must say, I did not expect such ingenuity from you.

It will take some work, but I believe we'll make something quite... unique."
(Duniya Vartuul)
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 Maertock would nod firmly at that, the Captain of the Deep Company leaning back in his chair with a wink as he deposited all of the reagents into the depths of his murky being.

It was a plan, then.

"I'd like to think so. A living, cursed weapon with an ancient past and a dark future? Seemed right up your alley alongside bad boys and cigarettes Duniya."

The Captain would snort with amusement at that.

"That's the plan for now, we'll work on the forging process when you're unoccupied. I figure the lava up north is primordial enough that my shadow forge will offer the necessary locale for the process. It shall test my mastery of the deep dark, I'm truly excited."
(Maertock Reave)
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 Maertock Reave says, "I'll leave you two to it. I'll be around Dun. Til then."
 Maertock would tip his tricorn hat, vanishing in flowing shadows towards the door.
(Maertock Reave)