[IC] Lost in Dreams [Graham]

[momothefiddler]

*groan* "Fine. Then what do you recommend I try to learn, magical or otherwise, that will be of some sort of use when I wake up naked on whatever world comes next?"

[ericthered]

Harkan: "That's... an interesting question. I've done a lot of travelling, but my general rules has been to properly prepare and bring what I need... I'm a merchant by training, and my strategies and talents center around having stuff and exchanging it."

"I'd pick up a skill that's nearly universally in demand. Literacy is good, but requires language skills you may not have. Metal working may be your best bet here. Everyone can use a good smith, and this is the the freeworlds' center for metal work."

[momothefiddler]

"Right, but safety...

I don't suppose you have any asbestos gloves hangin' around or anything?"

[ericthered]

Graham has no idea what the word for 'asbestos' is, but Harkan assures him gloves are available. "Dwarves aren't immune to heat, just resistant."

[momothefiddler]

(Augh! Lost this somehow. Sorry!)

"Will I be able to just use the gloves while I work, or will I have to buy those too?"

[ericthered]

Harkan: "You'll be able to rent them. They are one of the tools. You will have to specify that you need them though."

[momothefiddler]

"Right. Okay. Thank you for the advice."

[ericthered]

Graham finds forging iron to be tiring work, but quickly picks up on lots of small details... how to hold the iron. Proper temperature to forge it. Which tools are for what. Basic safety, at least from a Dwarven perspective. He is able to learn quite a lot simply by watching the other dwarves forging.

Of course, learning a lot is not the same as learning how to do it... Graham is slow and clumsy with the metal, he's just gotten better than when he started.

[momothefiddler]

He takes eagerly to the work, fascinated by the fire and the glowing metal. He doesn't mind not learning immediately, but he does get a bit impatient as progress continues to be slow.

[ericthered]

Graham's progress with the language continues... and his spirits continue to lag. Working the iron does help quite a bit though, if only because he can at least make progress at bending something to his will.

OCC: 1 point in black smithing. 2 points in reading and writing Handack (both broken). 1 point in dwarven accounting. Also, I'm sorry he got another fantasy theme, but that's what the dice rolled.

Graham continued to dream of the over-world, but paid it no heed. He had, after all, agreed to live with the dwarves as long as he stayed. But he did not stay on Awan among the dwarves.

Graham dreamed of a massive army... an army of men, clad in leather and bronze. They carried round shields, thick spears, and painted their faces blue and black. They were drawn from all ages, and seemed to have the clear skin and dark hair of Spaniards or southern Italians. Their leaders were armed with solid bronze armor, cunningly jointed into something resembling a full suit of plate. Or perhaps those were shock-troopers rather than leaders, meant not to command, but to lead. One man in the army wore something beyond the others... a suit of plate, made in the same fashion as the others, but out of an entirely different material. Before his sojurn among the dwarves, he would have thought it made of steel, impressive enough. Now he can recognize it as 'mithral' (he doesn't know of anything better to call it, and its close enough to what mithral does in legend). The figure stands over 6 and a half feet tall, and is either well built or the armour fits quite poorly.

along side it was an army of goblins: Graham has seen goblins in his dreams on Awan before, and these are certainly the same species. They have a much smaller force, but seems to be entirely made of camel-mounted troops, though most are equiped to dismount before fighting. Other than that they are more poorly equipped and more ragged, but somehow look just as nasty and determined. Like the human army, they have put on blue and black face paint. The two armies seem to be working together.

Despite the proximity of a desert, there is a coast, and towards it sails a fleet. The winds and waves are fierce, but the ships are riding with the storm, and the men on the boats seem more in awe of the storm than in fear of it. The men on the boats are similarly armed, but their face paint is green and gold.

Graham wakes up on a cold beach with waves washing up on him. He is positioned as though he washed up, though he knows he didn't actually wash up. Two men with the blue and black face paint have already seen him, and are coming down, probably to point spears at him and yell things.