The Neries unfurls a sheaf of leather - thick, and durable. Dried to a reasonable level of toughness, pliable in the hands and willing to stretch under pressure. The blade, as Setzer sees it, would have an all new look about it - The coloration was off, for one. More purplish, as red infused itself with the original blue. And orichalcum lines, like fractured pottery, ran wildly across its length. The hilt and crossguard were polished, but unfinished, and no grip remained on the now greenish-hued handle.

She measures it carefully, before she'd begin to cut the stretch of leather to the two-handed blade's exact dimensions across the handle.

"Tezoxochel here is going to be inscribing runes across the leather I'm using for the hilt." She'd explain. "It will be to help channel fire magic from the wielder into the blade. We scratched off all the extra, superfluous crap, Setzer -- Your blade will explode when you swing it fast enough, or hit something hard enough."

She flashes a grin.

"You're welcome."

Once the leather has been properly cut, she'd place it on the table in front of Tezoxochel.

"Tez, get to inscribing - Setzer, I'll need you to channel your fire magic into the runes she writes, so that it attunes itself to the flames. Easy? Easy. Go."
(Iosefka Coza)

... As if he really needs help for his Runewriting. This is just. Another step in infusion. Not a fire magi himself, he cannot provide the synergetic boost that an adept flame magi can.

But he rolls his shoulders as she speaks,. and to word of his inscription, he raises his land hand, the tip of finely honed nagual claw glowing blue the epitome of pure mana refined for the purpose of inscription of rune.

No words needed, on his part. The moment that she sets the leather before him, Tezoxochel is to work, ornate chains of runic mystery etched along the length, danced about the material in masterful, precise simplicity.

His magic would not fade, as it awaited another's influx, no. Otherwise, there would be nothing to set. The Runescribe's pure effort must meld into the setting of rune to retain that trace more.
(Tezoxochel Coza)

Was this truly the blade he used in the past? It looked different! and it was in a good way! As it was revealed to him, his eyes widened along with his mouth slightly opening, he was truly left in awe, despite the weapon being unfinished.

"Oh my..."

Still staring at the masterpiece before him, it was then Iosefka begun to speak to him, with the directions of what his help was required for.

"Yes..Alright, I got'cha!"

This was a completely foreign situation to Setzer, definitely his first time assisting in creating a weapon but he would do his best not to fail. Extending the both of his hands out, he created a healthy, orange flame.

 "Channel my fire magic into the rune..."

The Stormkeeper would then clasp the both of his hands together, ceasing the life of the flame but still carrying the remnants of its mana. Carefully watching the runes dance across the leather material, Setzer simply followed suit, placing and transferring his fire into the runes as they were being composed.

 "Like this? Correct..?"
(Setzer Azahara)

It sure fucking was. This was not the first he'd seen of it, no. Possibly not even the last, knowing her favoritism for going back to projects to make sure they are greater than perfect.

But it was just another day, another inscribing for him.

He will go about his business and profession in the seeking of her fame and fortune as is so rightly deserved, and that's all there really is to it. That, and he's happy to help her, of course.

He trusts Setzer's understand, at least, of his own mana, so he keeps himself at work to finish the scrawling whilst new mana is introduced to the softly flickering runes of before. And then, the Nagual ushers back the storm mage, and restrokes across the cusp of wherein mana exceeds the boundaries of his runes, reimpressing will and desire and, in a manner of speaking, rewrites them with what of Setzer's own fire-latent mana is there.

A careful, and very focused, very exhaustive process.
(Tezoxochel Coza)

"Roger."

Setzer took note of the directed motions that Tez were providing to him. It was obvious that the Stormkeeper was giving it his all, after all, it was his precious weapon, The Predator. Hovering his hands over each runic inscription placed onto the leather, he exerts a safe amount of his fire magic into it.

This was a very interesting process as a whole and honestly speaking, the Sarradian was truly lost during the entire process, thankfully he was a very careful person from the start or else he would totally flop in such an important moment!

His heat slowly traveled from his hands into the flickering runes that sat against the leather, filling its engravings with a red, fiery glow to represent his very mana.

The Stormkeeper's commands rested solely on Tez's directions. Once he was told to halt, he would quickly vanish the presence of flames from his hands and quietly take a step back, simply to see the rest of the process through.

"Hmm."
(Setzer Azahara)

The stretch of leather took on the work of both Tezoxochel and Setzer, and as the final runes and letterings had been imprinted against the square, the Neries would step in to direct the rest of it. She gently pushes Tezoxochel away from his work, flashing a smile at her husband before pulling the hide taut.

"Finally." She'd mutter. And with that, she'd slowly pull the fire-enchanted leather tightly around the handle of the blade. Slowly, over and over she'd wrap the hilt in the leather, binding it with a heat-resistant twine. Roughshod though it was against the metal, it wouldn't be for long as she takes her sandpaper and begins to grind down the edges of the leather, crushing and pushing and squeezing it down until it was flat, incredibly flat against the arcanium-orichalcum alloy.

The blade is lifted high... Before being placed on the hooks, to let the leather bind itself to the hilt.

"One more step, Setzer." She'd explain. "And we'll have ourselves a complete sword, ready for swinging. Now. My husband is sleepy, so..."

She makes a shooing motion.

"Out. We're done for the day, got it?"
(Iosefka Coza)