Shearfrost Pub

"Somethin old, somethin' new, something something, and something blue...? You tryin' to marry me off ta someone?" She laughed.

She raised a brow, as he explained such things about smiting. "Hm..." she thought, hard on it as she took the deliciously sweet alcohol in. She held the flagon up for a while, before lowering the head. "Hmm... there is not much I hold to such deep value as my tail these days... save, perhaps well..." She shrugged, her crimson eyes glancing down at her breasts... more precisely, the small bag which hung between the medium slopes of her chest. She blinked, taking another quick gulp before sliding it over to him. "You don't know anyone who'd fancy a shag, would ye?" she blinked before bursting out with laughter, banging her fists upon the surface of the table while her tails swished about and her foot which was still on the floor tapped the floor boards; her other leg was still flexibly stretched out and over the table, supported by her thigh.

"Marriage bah, I'm too old for marriage besides, you don't have the spunk for my work lass."

Idly while she spoke he measured the anklet, and eyeballed the general length of her tail hairs, still jotting away on his parchment. His eyes catching the sight of the small bag dangling between things of lesser interest at the moment.

"Can't say I know anyone who needs a rug, let alone one so fluffy and fuzzy as a shag one."

He turned once again to the parchment nodding as he reviewed his notes.

"And last but not least I need your consent, otherwise it would never reach the climax of it's carnal beauty."

"Ah, nah, yer too handsome for me, I'm not in yer league I'm afraid!" Kurie chuckled. "Wot? Carpet, I don't have none..." She says, pulling her tight pants back, double checking. "Nope, smooth as a... ow, rug? Ah haha no, I mean... ya know, n'ver mind..." She smirked, letting her pants snap back into place. "Why ya need this ones consent? Yer not gonna be winnin' now, Mr. Dwarf!" She chuckled. "Now gimme that skull and we'll get back to this game of ours! Just let ya know, mos people sign a waver before sleep-er, drinkin' with me... well both actually, but in this case it be for the drinkin' hehe~" She giggled, reaching from under her shirt for her own bit of parchment for him.

"Well good thing we don't need short hairs for this."

The Dwarf eyed the second piece of parchment not really paying much attention to it, he set it aside. Folding his hands across his chest for a bit he eyed the face jug, as he clasped his hands.

"Your consent little one, is because that which I plan will not be complete or whole if you don't want it done. It would be a greater failure than it already is. Your anklet would be less than it is now."

Reaching up he read the parchment ad laughed as he signed it.

"Won't matter much either way, I haven't been able to even feel the slightest buzz since I stopped being mortal girl, let alone to become fully drunk. It's why I prefer to hold drinking duels. They are far more fun when you get to see just how far an individual is willing to go to keep a thing they hold close to their heart. A crafty misunderstanding well worth the end results."

Drumming his fingers he tilted the jug once, twice, three times before drinking a rather fruity alcohol than passing it over to her.

"Your consent is the most important requirement, I refuse to do something so life altering with out it. It would be like raping the poor anklet of its identity, taking it and forcing it to become something more against its will."

She grabbed the face jug with her extended leg's toes, clasping it between her eyesockets, lifting it up and kicked it above her head! Her thigh slid off the table, and foot planted back onto the planks of the bar again as she looked up at the skull. "...no longer mortal...eh?" She says, reaching up, her hand clasped into a pointing gesture as the face hit the tip of her finger softly, tipping so that the contents of the face spilled down, like a waterfall, into her open mouth. She did this for a few moments, gulping at the fountain of what tasted similarly to a very fruity wine, before flicking her finger, causing the face to fall into her other palm. "I'd like that..." She glances over to him with sharply lidded eyes, her mannerisms changing slightly. "How does one not become mortal?" She asked, smirking, spinning the jug on her left hand, sliding it back to him.

"Oh I hear there are few ways on this planet, of that particular malady being shall we say upended."

With a slight smile he let the jug slid right off the table only the jug never hit the ground, no sound of thumping or breaking followed as he turned back to face the table one hand idly twirling her consent form for drinking and sleeping together, while his other hand continued to work on his own parchment.  Making adjustments here and there to his original plan.   As with all things the dwarf did, even his plans were in a constant state of flux.

"Some methods involve dying, rather messy and not very skillful either.  Which I doubt anyone with a sense of sanity would willing attempt.  There are some methods which involve a shall we classify them as higher God screating or remaking individuals into them.  Some have gifted their powers to entire races, bringing them to near godhood.  There was even an odd story about an insult to an individuals pride that resulted in the making of a demi-goddess.  Oh the stories vary but at the end of the day very few are capable of such feats."

The dwarf looked over his parchment again making adjustments, he nodded and shook his head as he did so.

"As for my own story I was just in the wrong, place at the wrong time, I think... can say I remember actually ever stopping being mortal.  Just kind of happened one minute I was mortal the next I was on this rock busily working on one project or another and realized it... By the by you might want to drink your next drink before it gets cold.  This one goes bitter once it's temperature drops."

His words giving off an odd feeling as the elf bartender stood next to her holding the face jug that had slid off the dwarf's side of the table only a moment before.  Rolan the God of Alcohol stood offering her the jug, having never crossed in front of her eyes until the very moment he stood holding it out as he faced the Dwarf speaking.

"You know this is not allowed inside the Spirits of Rolan."

But contrary to his words he allowed the dwarf his own personal alcohol, inside the Spirits of Rolan, where only the Spirits of Rolan were allowed.

"Ah don't mind him, he's just bitter that the only thing he can taste out my bottomless jug is his own mucky water of a brew."

Crisis Rocan wrote:"Oh I hear there are few ways on this planet, of that particular malady being shall we say upended."

With a slight smile he let the jug slid right off the table only the jug never hit the ground, no sound of thumping or breaking followed as he turned back to face the table one hand idly twirling her consent form for drinking and sleeping together, while his other hand continued to work on his own parchment.  Making adjustments here and there to his original plan.   As with all things the dwarf did, even his plans were in a constant state of flux.

"Some methods involve dying, rather messy and not very skillful either.  Which I doubt anyone with a sense of sanity would willing attempt.  There are some methods which involve a shall we classify them as higher God screating or remaking individuals into them.  Some have gifted their powers to entire races, bringing them to near godhood.  There was even an odd story about an insult to an individuals pride that resulted in the making of a demi-goddess.  Oh the stories vary but at the end of the day very few are capable of such feats."

The dwarf looked over his parchment again making adjustments, he nodded and shook his head as he did so.

"As for my own story I was just in the wrong, place at the wrong time, I think... can say I remember actually ever stopping being mortal.  Just kind of happened one minute I was mortal the next I was on this rock busily working on one project or another and realized it... By the by you might want to drink your next drink before it gets cold.  This one goes bitter once it's temperature drops."

His words giving off an odd feeling as the elf bartender stood next to her holding the face jug that had slid off the dwarf's side of the table only a moment before.  Rolan the God of Alcohol stood offering her the jug, having never crossed in front of her eyes until the very moment he stood holding it out as he faced the Dwarf speaking.

"You know this is not allowed inside the Spirits of Rolan."

But contrary to his words he allowed the dwarf his own personal alcohol, inside the Spirits of Rolan, where only the Spirits of Rolan were allowed.

"Ah don't mind him, he's just bitter that the only thing he can taste out my bottomless jug is his own mucky water of a brew."

"This planet? Eh? Yer sayin' ya not from here fella? Heh.. Been beyond the veil of aether and into the unknown cosmos too eh? With a magical care-age I suppose as well, eh?" She chuckled. "She raised a brow, chuckling softly under her no doubt boozy breath. "Demi-Goddess... but not a full fledged one eh? That's all? Couldn't go the extra mile?" She slurred, leaning back in the chair, legs up and folded on the table while her hands slipped behind her head. She turned her drunken flushed face towards the barman, and the jug he now offered to her. It was a similar frothy ale they made from the apples off Noweyre... or was it on Noweyre? "What interesting stories..." she hummed, her buzz making her sound aroused, but not in the sexual manner... but her mind expanding on such insightful nuggets of intrigue. Her tail swept over to the jug, curled around it and then passed it back to her left open hand which pulled away from behind her head. Upon catching it, the liquid caught slightly on her sleeve, and she turned her crimson lidded gaze to the dwarf with a wide, fox-like smirk... or a wolfish smile. "Ah this smells like home..." She says, tipping the jug back, drinking while she awaited the Dwarf's reply.

"Oh she is a full fledged Goddesss, it's just the War Gods of Galiavan are very vain and arrogant sort. They don't like to lose face much less to a being they considered their lesser. So she has been considered a Demi-Goddess by her older brethren, out of spite and shame. It's a rather intriguing tale which the War Gods wish they could forget. Rolan here is an older sort than the War Gods, he's what believe they call a Primal God of some sort. HA whoever heard of a Primal God of Alcohol."

The Dwarf shrugged as he stroked his beard considering his parchment notes some more.

"Plenty of planets out there with life on them, barely even remember my own home. Usually too busy at work to bother with remembering. Plenty of alcohols on this rock to savor, that one just happens to come from a small village, oh wait it became a small island at some point didn't it. Very interesting drink really with the flavor changing as it cools and heats up."

She lowered the jug with a grin, and spun the thing on her finger before sliding it back to her host. "Aye, that it is~" She chuckled on the subject of taste. "As fer the Goddess there, I suppose its comes without sayin' she just fabricated out of thin air, some sort of odd ritual of sorts." She shrugged. "A primal of Alcohol... heh, there used to be an immortal of the wheat and barley where I'm from... but lets say her village gave up on her when certain Gods replaced her. She lay with a wolf, a most hated foe of hers out of anger, confusion... depression. Either way, they say this creature gave child, a being that couldn't amount to anything in either world... stuck as an oddity and sent to aimlessly wander and reflect upon her mortal fate. No power save for an inability to get lost in the drink, no matter how much she drank..." Kurie smirked. "Filthy canine halfbreed..." She scoffed, her arms behind her head as she looked deeply into the ceiling, swearing she could see the stars of the night sky above her. "The drink can give one levity, but cannot wipe away the pain of being empty. The vessel within, is too deep to fill..." She sighed, blinking her long lashes as she saw a comet soar across the sky in this mental or potentially magical window to the skies above.

"Nah the War Gods challenged a very prideful Master Smith once, long ages ago. Long story short, they said his weapons and armor were unmatched, but he would never be able to match a War God, that he could never make a God no matter how skillful he was. The next day they were forced to acknowledge the Master Smith, unofficially speaking he became known as the God of Creating. Korwa is the Goddess's name. Not a very well known one mind you, but there are certain circles in which she is well respected and known. Very tightly knit circles in fact."

The Dwarf eyed the face jug for a moment, pondering something upon the parchment before him.

"Well Mortality is only a curse to those who don't value what they have. Can say I ever recall hearing of such an immortal in my years, but I mostly just stick to my trade so there are plenty of things I didn't see or hear throughout my years. Honestly speaking I'd tell the youngin' that she wouldn't be happy no matter what her lot is, not until she can accept herself. Doesn't matter what others think of her so long as she can think good of herself first.

Besides that her problem is much like my jug there, you can't fill what's already full to begin with. You have to empty it out first in order to add more to it. Sounds like she's full of all kinds of things, whether good or bad, and instead of emptying things out she just keeps trying to pile more in on top of the mess already. She won't ever find life worthwhile stuffed to her fuzzy ear tips with misery. Have to let it out and get over it first, otherwise all the good of new things will just be spoiled. Like well aged alcohol being used for cooking... a complete waste if I do say so myself.

Emptiness is just another kind of filling if you think about it. Like I said, she'd have to remove that which makes her hollow in order to fill up on the best of life mortal or otherwise. Would you look at me, I'm being all talkative and philosophical, I think it' time to switch to a heavier alcohol."

The Dwarf knocked on the forehead of the jug, giving it a good once over before knocking on the very center of the skull.

"Bottom's up...?"

A look of wonder crosses his face as he stares at the jug, shaking it, and turning it this way and that, before resorting to sticking his hand into it's mouth. After a few moments of reaching into the jug, his arm disappearing clean up to his shoulder. He frowns at the thing, pulling his arm back out an setting it on the table with a dissatisfied look.

"Rolan, some of your oldest Spirits please, I mean the early years batches you have tucked away in the backroom's backroom, not the apple rot you've been serving since the days of the overthrowing either."

"Very well."

Rolan wanders off from behind the bar into the backroom where he stores his alcohol, while the Dwarf gives his jug one more look ,this one a dirty one of disgust.

"That's never happened before, it's dry, completely dry. Hrumph!"

Crisis Rocan wrote:"Nah the War Gods challenged a very prideful Master Smith once, long ages ago.  Long story short, they said his weapons and armor were unmatched, but he would never be able to match a War God, that he could never make a God no matter how skillful he was.  The next day they were forced to acknowledge the Master Smith, unofficially speaking he became known as the God of Creating. Korwa is the Goddess's name.  Not a very well known one mind you, but there are certain circles in which she is well respected and known.  Very tightly knit circles in fact."

The Dwarf eyed the face jug for a moment, pondering something upon the parchment before him.

"Well Mortality is only a curse to those who don't value what they have.  Can say I ever recall hearing of such an immortal in my years, but I mostly just stick to my trade so there are plenty of things I didn't see or hear throughout my years.  Honestly speaking I'd tell the youngin' that she wouldn't be happy no matter what her lot is, not until she can accept herself.  Doesn't matter what others think of her so long as she can think good of herself first.  

Besides that her problem is much like my jug there, you can't fill what's already full to begin with.  You have to empty it out first in order to add more to it.  Sounds like she's full of all kinds of things, whether good or bad, and instead of emptying things out she just keeps trying to pile more in on top of the mess already.  She won't ever find life worthwhile stuffed to her fuzzy ear tips with misery.  Have to let it out and get over it first, otherwise all the good of new things will just be spoiled.  Like well aged alcohol being used for cooking... a complete waste if I do say so myself.  

Emptiness is just another kind of filling if you think about it.  Like I said, she'd have to remove that which makes her hollow in order to fill up on the best of life mortal or otherwise.  Would you look at me, I'm being all talkative and philosophical, I think it' time to switch to a heavier alcohol."

The Dwarf knocked on the forehead of the jug, giving it a good once over before knocking on the very center of the skull.

"Bottom's up...?"

A look of wonder crosses his face as he stares at the jug, shaking it, and turning it this way and that, before resorting to sticking his hand into it's mouth.  After a few moments of reaching into the jug, his arm disappearing clean up to his shoulder.  He frowns at the thing, pulling his arm back out an setting it on the table with a dissatisfied look.

"Rolan, some of your oldest Spirits please, I mean the early years batches you have tucked away in the backroom's backroom, not the apple rot you've been serving since the days of the overthrowing either."

"Very well."

Rolan wanders off from behind the bar into the backroom where he stores his alcohol, while the Dwarf gives his jug one more look ,this one a dirty one of disgust.

"That's never happened before, it's dry, completely dry. Hrumph!"

She seemed genuinely interested in the conversation and topic of the Goddess, and when he brought up the Immortal she smiled, and closed her eyes. "Well, its an old legend... could be nonsense." She chuckled, before half opening her eyes, and glanced the dwarf over as he threw a fit over an empty jug. She giggled, swirling her mug. "Well, it seems to me that I won this round. In exchange..." She says, leaning over, writing her name on his parchment to agree to his conditions. "I Kurie Hotto, will relinquish my anklet, a few of my mother's seedlings, and one of my precious tail hairs for this crazy experiment of yours." She chuckled raising her mug to her lips, knocking back the last of her drink.

"Win lose, the jug should never be empty... it's inconceivable. This could keep me busy for a long time trying to figure out what caused this."

For a moment he was distracted as she wrote on his parchment scrawling her consent to her loses directly on top of his hard work. With a scowl he looked up all thoughts of his jugs emptiness forgotten.

"Crazy! I don't do crazy lass... I simply create what needs creating, and occasionally I fix what needs fixing. Nothing crazy about that.. So how would you like to go about this then?"

Crisis Rocan wrote:"Win lose, the jug should never be empty... it's inconceivable.  This could keep me busy for a long time trying to figure out what caused this."

For a moment he was distracted as she wrote on his parchment scrawling her consent to her loses directly on top of his hard work.  With a scowl he looked up all thoughts of his jugs emptiness forgotten.

"Crazy!  I don't do crazy lass... I simply create what needs creating, and occasionally I fix what needs fixing.  Nothing crazy about that..  So how would you like to go about this then?"

"Well we did drink quuuite a bit," she offered, before adding: "But yeah, your crazy little experiment, thats what I want for winning this round~" She cooed, before he started on fixing things. She blinked. "Hmm... I'm not sure I get what you mean by that?" She asked, plucking a hair from her silky coat with a frown, before handing some of her mother's seeds from her pouch between her breasts and her anklet. "How does one go about this normally?" She asked, handing the items over curiously.

"They don't!"

It wasn't exactly said gently but the force behind his words spoke volumes in regard to just how many could do what he was going to do.  Even the numerous apprentices he had had throughout his years couldn't do more than the barest faction of what he was capable.  Among whom were counted Korwa and Corevaeus of the Ward Gods of Galiavan, each with a long list of notable creations accredited to their names.

"Now to be exact, what I mean is in all my years and travels, counting both this world and my previous I have meant maybe one other who could work the kinds of feats of crafting which I intend to do here.  And his skill to be honest is far superior to my greatest works when he truly puts his mind to it.  But enough about him, he's usually too busy to dedicate enough time to such work, and it's always been more of a matter of a need  than a desire for him.  As for myself I've spent the whole of my life plying myself to the craft of creating.  Smithing damn near anything, and everything known and unknown to the living and the dead more than once or twice."

As he spoke his hands continued to move without his eyes every once looking to see what they were up to.  As his hands moved to those who could see the flows of magic, and the even more learned who could see the flows of life energies, and spiritual energies, awe would be the only description for their reactions to see just exactly what was going on as he traced the items over and over again with his hands.

As he ran his thick and stubby, but deft fingers along the lengths and widths of each item, one could see the different forces of nature, the energies of life, spirit and magic all receding from the items, s though he was pushing all three energies out of the items entirely.  This was the secret to the depths of his skills, he was a nature repelling force to magic and by proxy he was able to repel life and spiritual energies as well once he had learnt how to feel for them as he instinctively did with magical energies.  Few and far between could see spiritual energy, and even fewer still could perceive the life energy of a thing, while magically energy was a more commonly noticeable energy to perceive.

His hands ran along each item until not a trace of the three impurities remained contained within.  A glow of power seemed to hang just beyond his hand and the items, a glow of the three energies, pooling unable to dissipate, unable to return to their host objects.  Held at bay by the strange nature of the Dwarf while he worked with only his hands to purge the impurities from the materials before him.  He began to speak once again as he worked.

"Creating things is what I live to do, and more often than not I find myself gathering things up to use, without ever having the slightest idea of what I'm gathering them for, or when.  On occasion I take on a job or two, because the offer is appealing to my sense of duty.  Of course just as often as I take up such a request, the ones asking find my requirements for their request to be far more than they are willing to pay.  I enjoy my work, and refuse to half ass anything.  

"For instance, this Kitsune once approached me to demand I make a sword for him of such great power that he would be award the highest of position of his people.  Some weird gave and receive ritual for showing how much you are willing to contribute to the tribe.  Sacrifice for honor or some such nonsense.  Well he asked for a weapon that was as powerful as he was, being a Nine-tailed Kitsune of such magical power and ability as he was he did not like my asking price, but his greed knew no bounds, and he agreed to the price I required to make a sword as powerful as he was.  I never did see him again,, nor did he to my knowledge ever receive the blade he paid so high a price for.  Yet I heard much later that for his sacrificial gift he was honored highest among all his people, even to this day he is worshiped as something of a Primal Deity I believe, perhaps he regained some of what he sacrificed in time, but the price was equal to the request.  I was surprised he agreed to it at all for a Kitsune I mean"