Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Beskar'gam Forging

I'd promised payment of Arkanian Diamonds to both the current Mandalore [member="Isley Verd"] as well as a Beskarsmith by the name of [member="Saera Willamina Savan"] and another Beskarsmith by the name of [member="Valashu Elahad"] in exchange for their help in forging a suit of Mandalorian Armor. I'd had plans and sketches drawn up for awhile now but I finally had the right people to help out. Meeting them on Echoy'la where the Beskar Forges were along with the resources to forge and my own sketches and designs I gave them my sketches and wondered how I could help in this process...

http://imgur.com/a/HZfHB
 

Saera Willamina Savan

~+--- Skaidra ---+~ Beskarsmith, Alchemist
The young beskarsmith--Saera--had arrived in due time to Echoy'la, where her latest client desired their suit of Mandalorian armour to be made. It was by some miracle Saera was even able to slip her entire frigate back into imperial space, though what she saw upon arriving on the ground brought much more sense to it. Standing in a large smithy she saw him: [member="Isley Verd"]. Needless to say, she wasn't remarkably pleased to see the self-proclaimed Mand'alor and her Sith instinct told her to ideally strike him down where he stood, though the little hybrid was above darker conventions as such.

Saera held in her arm and on her shoulder a large, Mandalorian iron hammer, gripped at the butt of the shaft. In her other, she carried a small satchel filled with various bits and pieces to Force-knows-what. Her usual robes were covered by a thick apron of sorts covered in large, leather pouches.

"Regrettably--Su cuy'gar, Verd."

The girl turned to [member="Celiana"], awaiting further instruction.
 
The name [member="Celiana"] had been one Isley heard in passing. She had participated in the training exercise led by his own sibling, for example – but never before had he met the young woman. Nevertheless, the remedy to thus came in the form of a request. And, given her presence within the Empire this far, Isley had no qualms about seeing her desire fulfilled. To this end, Celiana was directed to the modest Forge that the Mandalorian had erected on one of Echoy'la's numerous asteroids. It was not the most awe-inspiring facility, but it provided immediate access to the material he would be shaping today.

Beskar.

Now, this was far from the average metal in that it was vastly difficult to shape. In fact, it took a carefully skilled hand to see the successful creation of beskar'gam – and such "hands" were almost always Mandalorian. In Isley's case, he had learned at the feet of two exceptional craftsmen: his own aunt and the infamous Ijaat Mereel. Between what he learned from those two souls, Isley was more than capable of seeing a young woman properly fitted with suitable armor. As for her part in the project, Isley would have her play the role of assistant whilst affording the opportunity for hands on learning.

And the first step? Drafting the design.

To this end, Isley pressed a pad and pen into the young woman's hand.

"Height. Measurements. Jot them down so I can shape the plates accordingly."

It was either that or serious chafing.
 
(This is Valashu, should have clarified lol. Going to post as this girl, as it makes a lot of sense. More info than I wanna type OOC in an IC thread however.)

Adriel yawned, hand before her mouth to stifle it. Her father was prattling on about martial arts of some form, likely Tera Kasi. But he didn't understand that she was not he, not so much as uninterested in combat skills, save that she was not the same type of physical combatant nor learner. He could absorb all information, compartmentalize it, and ready it for a damned good first run at a single time.

She learned through failing, equal parts attempt as much as hands on experience. Hence the instantaneous jump to her feet when she glanced to the time, "Father, sorry to interrupt, but please remember you agreed to let me go with Isley? We are going to assist a vod, she needs kovid Beskar'gam. This also is the best chance I have to meet with my grandfather.." She muttered the end, for though she was actually 200 plus years of age, her mind had hardly matured past a dozen.

"Addy, baby girl, you are right and don't need to explain further. Besides, as is, I can advise while you also receive the instructions from another master of the craft. Remember, we all have our own methods, so you can collaborate your own." Fos said, a smile playing softly at the corners of her mouth.

"Should I-" Addy began before being interrupted with a nod from her father, "Ok, you do know that I won't be fighting? I will wear the suit and the sword, but I still don't understand." She held a hand as his emotions told of his urge to respond, "I know you say it is a symbol that I am your daughter and one of the Daemon Clan."

Choosing to remain in the simple black suit of shirt, pants, and combat boots, Addy drew her hair back into a ponytail. Next she slipped into a Baka Bodyglove, then into the heavy suit known as her fathers Sith Beskar'gam. As the helmet slid plate by plate into position over her face, she yawned openly then smiled as the HUD finally lit up. Reaching out a hand, she took down the massive sword known as Ak'hanz'a Tur'ohna. Strapping it into place on her back, she called to her father, "Ready."

Immediately the world spun, wind seemed to shift heavily around her armored tank of a body, as all light vanished. A moment later it all ceased and life seemed to return to the norm. Save now she was light years away, almost the opposite side of the Galaxy.

Loud thuds echoed as she stepped close to the woman whom had offered to pay her and her grandfather, plus another she didn't know, "I am Adriel Daemon." At that she turned her gaze to the one whom visibly could be noted as her maternal grandfather. She said nothing, but knew it must be odd... she was not aware if he knew of her time spent returning to the present from centuries past. Last he knew was likely her younger body.

Next though her senses touched the emotions of attack.. Turning her gaze next to the other woman there, he stared intently. The only true Force skills she held was Empathy and Reverse Empathy, so she could feel the intent that had been held in check. But she said nothing.

"He is off to a good start." Her fathers voice ran into her thoughts, returning her to the task at hand, "Addy, ignore the girl. She is not your concern."

[member="Isley Verd"] [member="Saera Willamina Savan"] [member="Celiana"]
 
As [member="Isley Verd"] pressed a pen into my hand and said "Height. Measurements." I started writing, 5'9 tall, 160 pounds then the measurements for my waist and bust as embarrassing as that was to hand to a man. I'd rather he know and have armor that fit me well than not and take a bullet. I wasn't sure what was involved in the whole imbuing items like my Beskar'gam with The Force but I trusted that [member="Saera Willamina Savan"] and [member="Tempist"] who seemed to suddenly appear out of a place previously unoccupied in The Forge knew what they were doing.

I wasn't the most experienced with everything and I was fine admitting that I didn't have all the answers. Though I was eager to see the finished product....
 

Saera Willamina Savan

~+--- Skaidra ---+~ Beskarsmith, Alchemist
Without delay, Saera began warming up the forge. She placed her beskar hammer on the ground head-down which made an eerie, low tone thud. with a snap of her fingers, a small, blue flame was conjured. She flicked this flame into the belly of the forge, atop the heating plasma. Though she could not bring the Crystal Heart with her, nor an entire Nexus, small pieces of Force-attuned Cryastium lay in her satchel which she'd use to enhance the forging process the way she had always known. It might be largely unfamiliar to the other two craftsmen in the room - Isley at least, she knew would be able to work around - but they would make due, she was certain.

There were a number of other tools Saera had brought with her from her own foundry, which included various bits and ends; all of which were necessary even in the most fundamental of smithing projects. They were too numerous and varied to go over each systematically, but every one would serve its part. So long as no one questioned where all the red vials came from....

"May I see those, miss?"

Saera looked quizzically at the shutter door from which she entered and hummed a tune whilst she waited.

[member="Celiana"], [member="Tempist"], [member="Isley Verd"]​
OOC
Sorry dear! I didn't forget about you. I've just been busy this week. owo
 
OOC: It's all good been dealing with family in from out of town so I hadn't been all that active anyways.

The fact that this woman conjured up flame simply by snapping her fingers was definitely a neat trick, maybe I could learn that from somewhere. Assuming she meant the sketches and designs I'd come up with I handed her a copy of both the sketches and designs whilst I became pre-occupied with trying to distinguish the vast array of things she'd brought with her. It looked as though she had a vast array of tools as well as several vials of reddish liquid that looked disturbingly like blood... Suddenly I wasn't as intrigued by the tools anymore. Though she was humming a peppy tune as she waited....

[member="Saera Willamina Savan"],[member="Tempist"],[member="Isley Verd"]
 
Adriel Daemon.

The name alone was enough to command Isley's attention – so much so that the presence of the fox continued to be something that didn't occur to him. Turning, the Mandalorian briefly placed his gaze upon the woman who literally manifested out of thin air; a woman who was not five years old in the slightest. [member="Deneve Verd"] had told him that she had ran off to wed a sorcerer. She had sent little Avaritia to his doorstep. She told him of her other child, Avaritia's twin. Ava was five.

What could this be then? Was this an assassin simply using the name of his granddaughter? Or was this something more sinister...Isley raked his brains, attempting to put some semblance of logic into what now stood before him. He squinted against the relative darkness of the space, making out key features of "Adriel." She certainly looked the part, that is, if Avaritia had suddenly leapt to adulthood. What then, could this mean? A clone like [member="Anastasia Verd"]? Or...maybe the sorcerer played God?

Isley turned his back, although his guard was thoroughly up.

"Tell me something only my grandchild would know." he said, now taking full advantage of his helm's native features. Such were the "perks" of standard, Mandalorian designs: three-sixty-degree vision.

Whilst he awaited a response, Isley was provided with the information he sought. With this in mind, he turned to one of the sheets of beskar readied beforehand and took in hand a torch. This was a much more modern approach to the forging process, but given that alchemical augmentation was not apart of the request, he saw no reason not to make usage of the mountain of tools at his disposal. By means of the torch were portions of the sheet elevated to red hot temperatures, proceeded by Isley's taking the metal over to the anvil via tongs.

The metal was placed over a rounded horn, specifically designed for the shaping of helms and breastplates, before Isley took to hammering it into form. The process would consist of multiple heats with the torch, hammering into shape, and inspection to make absolutely certain that the piece matched the information provided. Then, once the plate was completed, he would begin the process of heat treatment.

In the meantime, Isley cast a glance over to [member="Celiana"] before motioning to a rather large vat of oil within stepping distance.

"Take a torch and get a fire going under that tank. Don't burn yourself...or the Forge down."


[member="Celiana"], [member="Tempist"]
 
I noticed that one of the people in the forge hadn't been there several moments ago and that Isley seemed bothered by it. I figured there was still so much I didn't know or understand about The Force that it wasn't really an issue, simply a bit unnerving. Everyone was busy doing something to help forge my Beskar'gam. Then Isley turned to me and pointed to a large vat of oil within several footsteps of where I was currently standing and said, "Take a torch and get a fire going under that tank. Don't burn yourself...or the Forge down."

I wasn't sure where I actually stood in terms of having earned any respect from Mandalorians, but starting a fire was something I could do. At least I wouldn't be referred to as Jetii here hopefully. Taking a plasma torch I knelt down under the vat of oil where wood had been stacked for fires and I ignited the torch, shielding my face from the glare I lit the wood in multiple places to start the fire up before flicking the torch off and glancing towards the others. Isley was currently working on the rounded sections of my helm and breastplates while the the other Beskar-smith Saera was working on other pieces of Beskar plate. Heating and hammering glancing at it then repeating the process.

Soon I'd have my set of Beskar'gam....

[member="Isley Verd"],[member="Saera Willamina Savan"], @Tempist
 
While it was true Ava was a doll, hardly big enough to be minded truly, let alone believed when she knew Addy was her sister, Adriel was real. With a simple activation switch the Beskar'gam opened all the way, revealing more than just her face. A step away from the suit let it reseal itself until she wished it open, "Avaritia fell to a sleep, one that none could wake her up from. It is still debatable what caused it. My mother once seemed to hate the idea of you, I don't think she ever really did, but when I was young she mentioned... I believe she said Metus? Not many would know that name."

From around them, but based within the mind temporally ignorant woman, came a voice, one of a... rival of sorts for Isley, "Let us be frank here. Rave Merrill. That should still most things." Fos said through the girl grown to womanhood, "Bic cuyir draar a jehaat." Immediately afterward her face returned to normal, her voice much less manly.

"I don't know who Rave is.. was.. but he says you were taught by her, where the number of people that would know that is little to none." She murmured, "I..." she didn't know what to say, nor how to address him, "I apologize Isley if this is confusing. You and I have never had the chance to meet, but I have wanted to. Since I was Ava's age. But then the anomaly occurred - in space the ship I was on was struck by a wormhole. I was deposited a long time into the past. I had to relive to the present, aging everyday."

At that, seeing that the others were now crafting as well, Adriel listened to her father's instructions and lifted a chunk of metal to be heated. Inside the furnace it quickly became smokey white hot. Withdrawing it she placed it to the thinnest of the anvils present, hammering down on key locations, each thud the command of a Master Beskarsmith moving through her. Slowly the metal thinned, every so often returned to the furnace, before again resuming the thunderous sounds. While her grandfather worked for either the helmet or chest, her father noted, she was working on legs and arms.

"Sorry if you're confused. I know I would be. The darker voice they mentioned Rave, was my father. We share a bond, and like the creeping old man he is, he is always watching me." She said, "I am who I am... grandfather." The last came out soft for the recurring sounds around them but it was noticeable if he wished to acknowledge it.

Next she put into the furnace another hunk - she would want her own Beskar'gam. Using her fathers alone was.. odd. Like a child riding a grown up bike.

[member="Isley Verd"] [member="Celiana"]
 
Cathul was a member of Clan Lok for years, practically from the day she opened the Mandalore Psychology Clinic. For years, all that she really did was practicing, sometimes to the tune of all-nighters seeing patients and trying to come to terms with their problems. She did not see it coming at all that she would have been feeling empty to do the same thing day after day and not get the most of what her Force power would allow her to do. She already had a master willing to teach her the more basic spells that most people would readily associate with space witches (a.k.a. Force-users): Force push/pull, Force vision and mind trick. As a witch doctor she does get her share of Force-using patients, light and dark. It was her turn to get herself a proper beskar'gam. So she took out the datapad she uses for taking notes on patients to write, using the official letterhead of the Clinic to write her order for a beskar'gam:

-----------------------------------------

ATTN: [member="Isley Verd"]

By now I fully embrace the galaxy of opportunities that my own Force-sensitivity brings about, and my ability to use the Force. But my current outfit that I call a beskar'gam is, let's put it this way, inadequate. On Er'kit I found that this witch robe straight from a Dathomiri horror flick lacked any protective power thanks to it being wrought out of tissue such as cotton or rayon and I sought to replace it ever since. But due to my species' morphology (I have rather big lekku), a helmet is not practical to me: for this very reason I cannot pilot unpressurized aircraft or spacecraft. What I'm asking for: a cuirass, breastplates and boots wrought in beskar, and the customary armorweave undergarment. I will provide the dyes for the armorweave myself, since I know what kind of dyes are colorfast on armorweave. However, I'm not sure as to how paints react to beskar; does it require special paints or armorweave dye is just fine?

Please forgive me, but I always feel compelled to talk about the deplorable condition of Mandalorian mental healthcare systems when I have to talk about my professional life, that is, my life as a baar'ur. Let's put it this way: Clan Lok has complete control over Mandalore's mental healthcare system by virtue of me operating the only reputable therapist practice on Mandalore. As a result I am the one person holding Mandalore's mental healthcare system together. I understand that both Mandalorian capitals have horrible reputations in the world of mental healthcare to the point many if not most residents of each of the Mandalorian capitals go off-world for therapy, and sometimes outside Mandalorian space.

As a token of gratitude towards the Mandalorian Crusaders from Clan Lok, you, as Mand'alor of the Crusaders, are welcome to get free therapy from me on Mandalore for life, or its equivalent in credits. That is, you may wish to take up the free therapy if you find the therapist on Echoy'la unsatisfactory, or if there isn't any therapist on Echoy'la to begin with, as I do not believe there is more than one therapist on Echoy'la. Or perhaps you would like to learn about Force-alcohol so that you can brew your own tihaar?

P.S.: As there does not seem to be any word for therapist in Mando'a, my beskar'gam will be called the Turjilyi'r'gam (lit. Armor of the Witch) in Mando'a even though its name in Basic would be Armor of the Therapist. As a therapist I know that no beskar'gam provides complete immunity to mental health conditions, but my day job is so central to my identity as a Mandalorian witch that I decided to name my beskar'gam after it.

Dr. Cathul Thuku, PsyD
Clinical psychologist
Mandalore Psychology Clinic

cc: [member="Saera Willamina Savan"], [member="Tempist"]

-------------------------------------------
 

Saera Willamina Savan

~+--- Skaidra ---+~ Beskarsmith, Alchemist
Isley was as good a smith as he was a Mand'alor thought Saera--not very. She practically cringed at the sight of prefabricated sheets being mustered up, a large portion of her already damaged respect for the man falling through as he began to heat it up with a torch. The craft was all she had know, all her life, and treating the construction of beskar'gam in such a half-hearted manner felt almost insulting. At least he had not pressed the metal into shape like some assembly-line product.

The practice of working the forges--at least in the traditional way that she had learned it--was as much about blood, sweat and soul as it was creating the ideal piece. Aside from the mystical igniting of the furnaces, each action Saera took in crafting a unique piece of equipment was involved and personal. Such was the way it had always been to the artisan, for tens if not hundreds of thousands of years. Little had changed, and for ample reason.

The little Sithspawn began grabbing chunks of unrefined ore lying around the facility--the sheets didn't spawn themselves after all--and tossed them one by one into the furnace. When a good amount was inside, she pulled a nearby lever on the furnace which caused a metal door to shut on it. Though it wasn't a brick and mortar forge, there was undeniable merit in the amenities a bit of modernization provided. What would have taken many hours to process took much less. As she waited, she watched the Mandalore heat up and beat at sheets on the horn to pass the time. When the pure, treated beskar finally separated from the slag and waste, she opened the furnace and removed the bloom with a heavy, modern tong-like device. It lay bare on an anvil... or the closest thing to an anvil lying around.

Saera suddenly beckoned for her recipient's attention. "Miss, come here why don't you?"
She grabbed her beskar hammer with one hand, letting it throw its weight forward like a trebuchet as she made several steps forward, and held it out towards [member="Celiana"].
"You're a Mandalorian, yes? Wield this hammer, and be a part of your legacy."
It sounded quite patriotic the way she had brought it up.
"Do be mindful of yourself and your surroundings though," she continued, looking up at Isley and the stranger. "Lift that hammer up nice and high, then let it fall with all its weight on the pin I'm going to hold out. Don't struggle or force it, just let it take its natural motion. We could press this... but only beskar tempers beskar."
Well... that was probably not entirely accurate, but it certainly did sound poetic and inspiring.

Saera had one last trick up her sleeve in store for them. What appeared to be a protracted and senseless process was a facade of sorts. She hadn't brought nearly enough vials of that viscous, red fluid to properly enchant a piece, let alone perform a simple ritual. She began to wonder if Isley, in all the experience he had, might have noticed. The small bits she carried--just enough to fit in her own satchel--were to replace her mother's favourite trick of all.

But first, they had to hammer out the beskar into plates.
 
They all had me doing different tasks but Saera suddenly drew my attention over towards her saying, "Miss come here why don't you?"
Grabbing what appeared to be a Beskar hammer she handed me the hammer and said, "You're a Mandalorian aren't yes? Wield this hammer then, and be a part of your legacy. Do be mindful of yourself and your surroundings though. Lift that hammer high, then let its whole weight fall on the pin I'm going to hold out. Don't struggle or force it, just let it fall."

Lifting the hammer high I waited for Saera to place the pin so I could let the hammer fall...

[member="Saera Willamina Savan"]
 
Thump, thud, thump, thud.

The recurring hammer fall was beginning to be a soothing sound, one she immediately realized she would wish to continue for the rest of her life. Like her father, and grandfather, she had the skills in her blood. As she worked she looked toward Isley, observing each step as he moved, she memorized it all, compartmentalizing each motion. But then she too looked toward the other female, surprised to find she had the same lessons it seemed as Addy's father. They both performed the purifying process fully in the furnace, brought it forth then worked.

Speaking of, Adriel jumped to the furnace and drew forth the hunk of Beskar within. Hammering while the other pieces began to cool, she made her own measurements into the mineral, crafting an arm joint by joint. "You're doing good, baby girl." Fos' voice rang into her thoughts. Curving the metal as it cooled at a slow pace, she paused to examine her work before returning it to the furnace. She had made a mistake. Her father had tried to see if she would notice a massive impurity as well as several dents further then the curve of her arm would allow.

Drawing the cooled thigh grieves free of its ice water, she flipped em loosely in hand. Each was equal to the measurements provided by the buyer of the crafting. At the end she would provide the links to keep the halves together, as is though it was good enough. Next she moved back to her own reheating metals. Examining them much more thoroughly, Adriel looked every miniscule centimeter over with a hawk's eye. This time it was perfect, to which the already partially shaped metal then went back to be hammered once more.

[member="Celiana"] [member="Saera Willamina Savan"] [member="Isley Verd"]
 
Celiana did as she was bid, and in the meantime Isley checked his work. The most obvious features of the breastplate were finished, and all that remained was partitioning the metal so that a traditional "Iron Heart" could be made. However, before the Mandalorian reached for the next tool for this process, he cast a glance over to the rapidly-warming vat. At the rate it was going, he estimated that it would take a few minutes to reach appropriate temperature for proper heat treatment; and as such Isley took the metal into the grasp of his tongs.

Metus. Rave.

His grasp stiffened ever so slightly...and the explanation was one that made "sense." Well, to the average soul, a trip down Wormhole Lane was a sure fire way to be called a liar. However, Isley had once witnessed something similar firsthand. T'was years upon years ago, during a mining operation within the Cularin Asteroids. Something that had been lost long ago...centuries ago...popped up out of thin air. Literally. Having seen thus, Isley could credit the explanation with some plausibility; but that didn't mean he bought it all. His guard was still up, understandably so; and it would take nothing short of [member="Deneve Verd"] herself reassuring him to change that.

But for now...he would play along.

"I know all too well what it's like to have company in your head." he replied, moving over to one of the furnaces. The breastplate was then deposited within and given the opportunity to come to temperature – and thus was a "hot cut" ready to occur. "Nevertheless, stick around, you might lear-"

DING!

A rather obnoxious, high-pitched notification rang out from Isley's micro-datapad. He promptly stuffed his hand down into his apron's pocket until he fished out the device..."A Mandalorian...shrink?" he muttered, in disbelief. Mental health wasn't something the average vod took into consideration. Patching bulletholes, sure, but talking through the Hell of War with a professional? Not quite. Furthermore, Isley had never entertained the thought of therapy before in his life...and personal pride would be the barrier preventing him from accepting the gracious offer. Suffice it to say, he didn't like feeling vulnerable.

And opening up? Hoo boy. That was being vulnerable.

-----

Baat'kaysh - One who Cares, may be another way of looking at it.

I would be more than happy to fulfill the creation of your beskar'gam, although I will require a personal appearance in order to do so. The creation of armor is a process both delicate and intricate – and as such I will need you present in order to ensure the details are exactly to your specifications. As for armor-friendly paint, I have many colors on hand already.

And as far as your occupation goes, you'd be the first therapist - to my knowledge - who would have set foot on Echoy'la. To be frank, there may be many who could benefit from your area of expertise, so if you so choose, you are welcome to fill that gap. As for personally undergoing therapy, I will have to respectfully decline.

I look forward to hearing back from you.
-IV

-----

After conjuring a response to the missive at a blinding pace, Isley tapped send before returning the device from whence it came. T'was then that he noticed that both Celiana and his grandchild had gone off to separate corners of the Forge to work on respective projects. No problem whatsoever – it was time to "hot cut" after all.

[member="Tempist"], [member="Celiana"], [member="Cathul Thuku"]
 
Upon seeing the answer from the Clan Verd alor, she understood that psychotherapists are included in the definition of a baat'kaysh, but there are a lot of other professions included under that label as far as she knew: occupational therapy, social workers, speech-language pathologists, to name the profession of those baat'kayshs she worked with. And, even though the former Mandalorian Emperor is no longer styled as such, she is still tempted to address Isley Verd as "Your Imperial Majesty". She long suspected that there would actually be one therapist, if only one of those charlatans that roamed Mandalorian Clan space unchecked (the Crusaders had Muunilinst for therapy, where Muuns would offer therapy at a price, of course) claiming to offer therapy. Now she had confirmation from the Crusader government that Echoy'la did not even have that: all the vods living on Echoy'la that needed therapy went off-world, mostly to Muunilinst, and a few of them even go to Mandalore (whereas a lot more patients go away from Mandalore for therapy than off-worlders come to Mandalore for that).

------------------------------------

ATTN: [member="Isley Verd"]

Your Imperial Majesty, I have the regret to have to decline your offer. It's not out of disrespect for your work, and I heard from all too many vods, mostly my own patients, that the process of making a beskar'gam is a process that needs the owner to come in person to a smith so that it can be tailored to their own specifications. It may be because my patients are reluctant to travel to Echoy'la, too, if I moved my practice there because of a beskar'gam. Perhaps that may be a foreign notion to Your Majesty but often patients' trust towards their baat'kayshs can be fickle. Just that I found another smith on Mandalore itself that would actually allow for minimal disruption in my medical activities.


Dr. Cathul Thuku, PsyD
Clinical psychologist
Mandalore Psychology Clinic

---------------------------------------
 
Adriel finally took her hammer back to the arm pieces of her own designs and measurements. With the impurities gone she could easily move onto the molding step, as she was currently. Rise, let gravity take control and fall, repeat. Every drop let sparks fly free of the armor pieces, singing themselves into nonexistence through the air. Slowly but surely the pieces came to the proper length, many would slide properly against themselves to sit properly against the arm but would be finalized in putting them together near the end.

Leaving the last arm piece she currently worked on, she stepped over to grab two more hunks of the mineral to be placed inside the furnace. All the while her father began to speak to her once more, explaining how she could best incorporate Imbued Effects to her own suit if she wished. The more she thought it over, the more she knew she loved the idea. She would make the suit lighter, so that while offering protection, the weight would be like nothing for her.

Watching the massive flames as they beat against the husks of Beskar, she envisioned the finalized product. It would have to match her, add some of herself to it, maybe she could color it to match her eyes. Blue would be a cool color...

Withdrawing the newest husks she moved to mold them as well, now working on the calves of the buyers choice.

[member="Isley Verd"] [member="Celiana"] [member="Saera Willamina Savan"]
 

Saera Willamina Savan

~+--- Skaidra ---+~ Beskarsmith, Alchemist
Saera didn't want to distract the girl from her labours, but being a hands-on experience as it was, she wanted to contribute something more than just the chance to beat away dully at a hot glob of metal.
"Do you know what makes beskar so exceptional?" the little Sithspawn asked rhetorically. "During the smelting and forging process, various additives and components are added to the mix. Naturally, a carbon content is also added, though with modern advances, charcoal is no longer needed and the carbon is synthetically added. Filters also make for a purer result."
Normally, the girl would have done everything completely by the books in true traditional form. However, time was a commodity she did not now have, and the insistence of involving others meant that the proper time and care could not be devoted to making the exquisite artifice she usually delivered.

Over time, several bars and plates of pure, refined beskar were accumulated. This was good as she had other plans for the leftovers. With another snap of the fingers, the second and more critical part of her plan came to pass; the gut of the furnace quickly burst into a haze of blue, ethereal flame that night instantly surpassed the normal temperatures and consistency of the normal pressure furnaces. It was a trick Mand'alor and the others could never completely replicate -- an individual technique borrowed from the self-proclaimed Goddess of auroras herself -- though this meant Saera herself could not as well, and that is why blood and cryast was necessary to start the forges. That was not to say Saera couldn't still source blood from... fresher... sources if her client still desired a little more exceptional than normal armour.

The plates that [member="Celiana"] had been helping Saera shape was in a ripe and malleable state, subject completely to their wills. They were significantly lighter and more dense than the usual beskar plates as well, with diminutive loss of structural integrity. The right reagents and the unique form of a veteran smith were always what made the difference between another hunk of space-metal and the most well-guarded art of the Mando'ade; Saera's own was guarded all the more.
"Too much and the metal becomes brittle and stiff, like glass. Too little and it becomes little more than glorified steel."

"You've done well so far, vod. Even among the Mandalorians, not all find themselves suited to this line of work." Saera smiled, looking at Celina approvingly. "Are there any questions? Perhaps one of you like to help me and miss Celiana with grinding and shaping these pieces into armor plates?"

[member="Isley Verd"], [member="Tempist"]​
 

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