Stealthy Shivs

[Matreya]

"The request called for a specific tool." Came the exasperated voice of Soran from nearby, "Sir, this is not what was requested!!" The elder male was growing tired, having spent over a decade working with, and for, the Daemon family. The hardest of them to deal with so far, had always been easily named: Damien.

Damien did what he wanted when he could. Even if there was likely a chance doing his way would bear ill results, he still tended to do so.

"Gaah!" Damien shouted, hurling the sharpened sword edge from his person, ignoring the clanging as it skidded around the Workshop backroom, "Then, what? What did they request!?"

"A dagger!" Soran sighed, finally some results, "An alchemised dagger."

 

[Matreya]

"A dagger?" Damien then sighed as well. Why did people always want such stealthy objects? He had always been one to want the grandoise. How could you send a message with small and insignificant?

"Yes." Soran replied, nodding his head. Damien would one day be the death of him, he was readily believing this every moment more and more.

"Any specifics?" Casting his gaze at his friend, Damien asked with an arched brow.

"Stealthy. Small enough to be utilized via hidden in a sleeve."

 

[Matreya]

"Frakkin stealthers." Damien muttered, casting an eye to the nearby corner of the room, where Master of Master Stealth Specialists stood. His spirit anyway. Damien had ripped from his mind all conscious thought before binding the dying soul to his person in yhe mans last momentd. Unlike the weaker Spirits which were his bound brethren, Zaiden was strong enough that he was always present. Always there. Always making snide comments or rude remarks.

A grin was the only response from the Spirit.

"Ignore him, Sir." Soran began, then continued, "Sir, it is not as if we get to choose the items made when a person comes with a specific request." Which, again thanks to his urge to do as he wanted, Damien frequentlt attempted to do.

"Yeah, yeah." Damien muttered as he summoned to his hand a small brick of aluminum, "Picky, picky, picky."

"Aluminum, Sir?" Sorano asked with an arch to his brow.

 

[Matreya]

"Yup." Damien did not say another word, as with a thought the roar of the nearby Furnace began. Holding out a hand, he opened the fingers, splayed wide, then rotated the palm up. Slowly raising the hand, so too rose the bar of the lightweight flexible mineral. Turning his palm toward the furnace he extended the arm as if pushing against somethinf, the result was the bar hovering quickly across the room until it rested itself on the furnace stand within.

Looking back to Sorano, he began again, "Start with light materials. Smelt it down, hammer it out, all so that the hardening process, alchemical processes at this point of course, and it will be far lighter than it would be were i to use, say, Phrik."

"Hmm," Damien was inadvertently teaching Sorano much, obvious via Sorano having instinctively deduced aluminum just from striations, color, grain texture et cetera. But while he could note some metals, or materials, by eye - if he were to be honest, smell as well, thanks to the heightened senses of a Tera Vampir - he could not do much more than that.

 

[Matreya]

The intense burning of the furnace bathing his back, Damien watched the notes be taken mentally by his friend. Many people would consider this, the very idea of teaching someone trade secrets, secrets of the greatest caliber, a retarded decisions of a madman. But little did they know, Damien already had altered this man, genetically modified him via his own brunt alchemy, to only open thought to him. It along the way came with a severe loyalty, a wish to never truly do wrong by Damien.

He retained his free will, but had the bare to never harm the Daemon's.

"Is that the process you want to use then?" Sorano asked, eyes glued to the flames within the massive ceramic dome. His mind was soaking up the knowledge placed before him, like that of a youngling, in spite of being more then 6 eons older than what usually was dominantly classified as such.

 

[Matreya]

"One of them, yes." Damien responded, now turning his gaze to mirror the others. He too admittedly held vast interest in the crafting processes needed to make things like weaponry. There were so many methods: smithing with an anvil, liquefied alloy to mold, filling molds, alchemy, Force imbuement. Plus the flames themselves were incredibly beautiful, "I think i am going to make it a nifty little blade, by making it ultra lightweight first of all, then i will make it never dull, as is common. Lastly, i will counter the alchemy aura, via an aura of Art of the Small. It will make a decent dagger, one indestructible, never dulling, able to absorb lightning though i wouldnt recommend it, then also impossible to detect in the Force."

"Wow.." Sorano murmured, glancing back at Damien for a moment. His adoration and belief that Damien was incredibly intelligent obvious.

 

[Matreya]

A telekinetic tug found the now glowing bar pulled from the Furnace, to which it hovered back toward the nearby anvil. Summoning a hammer from nearby, he quickly went to work. A thunderous blow rocked the air around them as he swiftly dropped the heavy head of the tool. Immediately the hammer was lifted once more, then descended again.

Sparks shot out in every direction with each ear damaging clang. How each of the two managed to stay still as the metal flattened, as sparks splashed their limbs, while their ears were assaulted, was up for grabs. Yet they both continued making their own thought processes as the bar began to take on the shape of a blade.

Slowly the blows moved from the end toward the other, blasting pressure onto the mineral. Then the bar was returned to the Furnace where it was heated before returning for the same prior treatment.

 

[Matreya]

Blow after blow, heat once more. Methodological motions moved the bar from the realm of useless weight, to dagger width (and length) blade. He left a tang from the end to attach a decent hilt, but even that received plenty of bounding hammer head kisses. Finally the last step was to reheat the knife once more, then he immediately drew a small ornate blade against his hip, sliced his wrist and let his own blood flow into the nearby alchemy basin.

Chants emanated from his mouth, the sounds that slipped lips barely audible even to the duo senses of higher hearing. All the while rage flared as Damien brought to bear the darker memories he possessed. Being tricked into slaying his own family, watching as Zaiden successfully stole from him what he loved most, all of the darkness that had befallen him before he could take control of his life as he had believed best able.

 

[Matreya]

Sorano made no motion, sound nor inquiry as he watched blood pour from the open wound that Damien had forced onto himself. His blue hued orbs didnt even waver from the straight shot they held at the crimson liquid. When Damien began to pour the darkside energies he bore into the blood, readying it for Blood Alchemy, Sorano even felt it. He also was not even a Force sensitive. Damien swore the man had talent, but got nowhere when it came to teaching the man.

As the alchemical imbuement of the blood finished, Damien stepped back, sealed the wound with a wave of the hand, then summoned the near complete blade. Pouring the magical viscous fluid, the hiss and disgusting burning aroma began as it bubbled, boiled, then evaporated on the metal of the dagger. Then came the finishing touches, pouring the last of the blood into the pool of the nearby oil bath, ended the basic shape of the dagger with a few more heavy handed bangs, then dipped the dagger.

 

[Matreya]

While the men continued to listen to the hiss, one of them did just that. The other, the Master Alchemist, had reached out with his power over molecular control and Force minimalism, Art of the Small. Focusing on his own blood and alchemical power, he began to conjure a bubble of an ever shrinking aura to counter the darkside that emanated from it. This was a method of his own idea, an aura to counter an aura. Luckily the first aura was unnoticeable.

In moments he had noticed the change already. It was like when someone had a control for lights overhead, slowly they can dim until they no longer were seen at all. Now, much the same, he was feeling the aura, the darkness, the very air around him, becoming lighter, withdrawing into the blade until it was no longer there to be felt, seen, or anything further.

Lifting the blade by its dull tip, Damien brought it close, trying as hard as he could to sense its darkside taint...

But couldnt.

Finishing the dagger with a leather bounder solid copper hilt, a razor edge finish that would never dull, both sides, and a scabbard to bear the blade, he had the finished order sent out for shipping.