CRING3

"Mmmmmmmh."

Hands delicately carved away at gently glowing metal as Dylerun worked at his bench. Chisel in hand, slow slivers of metal would gently fleck off the small arcanium band as he formed a spot to hold the lotus flower he had made. It was tedius, long work that had taken some time to even come up with, let alone begin. And already he found himself tasked with something more. He couldn't give his beloved a 'ring'. He had to give her more, much more. But what?

What more could he do?

Molten metal slowly drifted off below him, the back of a heavy hand casually brushing it away as though it were nothing but wooden flakes. With a pair of delicate, miniscule tongs, the carved lotus flower made from the bone of Cadeyrn would be lifted. Gently would it be brought over, set onto the small formation he had carved. Bone and metal would meet and there would be a gentle hiss, an acrid stench filling the air that caused him to grumble under his breath. It was something he should have expected, knowing the accumulation of the bone being that of rotten essence. Rotten essence. Not unlike that of an undeads...

As he allowed it to sit, mind would wander as a hand gently brushed through facial hair. He was no necromancer; the things he had done related to souls had only been of his own, and it had required quite some help. He doubted he could do it again, especially for a piece meant for somebody else. No, Dylerun would have to think of something more. He knew her position, her sense of self. Perhaps he should do away with such an idea. He knew the item alone would do her good. Bone would fuse with metal as he eyed it quietly, picking it up to begin polishing the metal, weathering and sanding the joining to make it look clean and perfect.

Perfect. Perfection. Their goal for themselves, and for the world to follow. Slowly hands would move, filing away at melted metal to make it shine true and look proper. Infusing it with some sort of element was possible, fire or otherwise. Perhaps he should look to the future, and the occultic designs she had in mind? Towards the darker tales that she would eventually bring? It was an easy thing, to corrupt. To drive further. What he could do to the ring...

A low smile would cross his face in the dim light of their small house, looking reptilian as work continued. Polishing, smoothing. Making nearly, at this stage, perfect.

(Dylerun Grauhimmel)