A Sorrel Subject
"I've barely gotten my tools out and I've got the slime on my head. What is it you need Kefka? Did something happen with your stove again?" The elf grimaced as a slime climbed onto his head. He did not hate Howard, but was irritated by his antics and mannerisms. He would not let him anywhere near his cat regardless.
Kefka waved his hand. "No Sorrel, I haven't had to use that in a couple weeks since it's been pretty warm. You used to be a jeweler before you lived right?" The elf cooked an eyebrow in confusion.
"Goldsmith technically, but I made a lot of rings and the like before Rhapthorne appeared and started all his nonsense. I also work pretty well silver. Haven't really figured out mithril or orichalcum yet, but that's more of a resource availability problem than a lack of talent. Why? If you're asking me to enchant something you found, that's the boss's skillset." Kefka looked behind his back briefly before looking at Sorrel again. "So you know gemstones then?" Sorrel sighs. "Get to the point Kefka. Throk needs his pots repaired after last night's stew brawl."
"I've never seen a dracky get that angry before. Anyway, I'm asking if you know any black gemstones." Sorrel became more confused, but also interested.
"Black isn't a common color people look for in jewelry, but I know of a few. Finally proposing to your one-armed lady?" Kefka tugged at his collar nervously.
"Not yet, but maybe in the next couple years. I'm asking because..." He pulls a shining piece of black material out of his pocket and places it on an anvil. "Vartan found this in a box in his house. He was going to ask you about it himself, but he was tied up running the tavern. Any idea what it is?" The elf sighed and approached the anvil. He squeezed the stone briefly and rolled it in his hand.
"This is probably something my group called swampstone. It's basically wood that's been under extreme pressure and water for millennia, similar to how coal is made. Cheap stuff, but less bulky than similar colored gemstones. I'm not surprised that cheap lecher has some of this. Probably trying to sell it as obsidian to tourists or something. It has little use for magic users as far as I know. If you want a black gemstone for your ring, black tourmaline would be better. If you want something unique, there are also dendritic stones. They have little flecks of black in a white stone that resemble ferns and the like. I like them a lot personally, but they're a pain to find."
Kefka crossed his arms. "Why do you hate Vartan so much? He's done nothing to you." Sorrel pulled a mask over his lower face as he started scooping soot out of the forge. "I don't hate him so much as his personality clashes with mine. He reminds me too much of people who used to annoy me." He hangs his hammer on his belt. "My craft attracted a lot of flamboyant customers. Those who put much more meaning into objects than they actually have. They would go on and on about how their jewels reflected their unique personality and whatnot. I wasn't a craftsman to these people. I was a machine that made shiny things for them to show off to their friends. They never cared for us as people, but my group was too blinded by titles and riches to notice. They didn't appreciate the work we would put into our pieces. The greatest piece I ever made was sold off to some narcissist in Arcadia who never even enchanted the thing before he died. Vartan isn't quite like that, but he does come off as having a high opinion of himself and uses more words than necessary to get his point across. It doesn't help that magic users aren't in the market for weapons or armor."
Kefka closed his eyes and took a breath. He waved his hand and Howard hopped off Sorrel's head. "That's what many people think of him when they first meet him. More often than not that's what they keep thinking of him since they never get to know him beyond the surface level. Don't you dare clump him in with the likes of that b*****d Dominico just because you didn't want to put in the smallest effort to get to know him you damn hypocrite. I'm not going to let my friend be insulted like this." He glared at the blacksmith. "You've become the very thing you denounce. Get off your high horse and your past hang ups. The people here love you and your work, but you keep pushing them away for dragonshit reasons. You can't use your work and perfectionism as an excuse to be a shut-in. Throk and your boss aren't your only friends. You have me, Zhubin, Granny Zarguth, hell the Bodkin Boys. Throk says they perk up whenever you order something because they feel like they're paying you back for fixing their knives and pots. Vartan coukd easily be your friend if you put in the smallest effort, but you're too damn stuck in your own head to see that.."
Kefka was panting with rage, to the point Sorrel was slightly intimidated. The ranger regained his composure after a moment. "It was a silver dragon head that looks like it's breathing an opal isn't it?" Sorrel's eyes widened in surprise.
"How the hell did you..."
"He displays it in a case in his living room, next to various other enchanted items he's made. He said when he found the thing after buying the house, he was inspired to start making magic items again. He doesn't want to enchant the ring because he thinks it's amazing enough as is. If he knew you made that ring... I don't know if he'd bow at your feet or hug you."
Sorrel lit the fire in the forge. "I've been thinking about how I come off to people a lot the last few years. If what you say is true, and I have no reason to believe you would ever lie to me, I have made a huge mistake. As much as I want to say you and some of the people you mentioned are close to me, I... I can't make excuses anymore. I needed confirmation from someone I trust. Is it possible I could see the ring? I haven't seen it since Rhapthorne was still alive." Kefka smiled and took the stone off the anvil.
"I'll ask him tonight. I'm sure he'll come show it once he finds out who made it."
kefkadragon Community Member 
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