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You Think This Bad Neighbourhood?... (Clever-Fox)

Started by Brisinger987, August 19, 2013, 08:13:28 AM

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Brisinger987

Roktos went off to his small stone cave outside the house, where he couldn't cause fires, and fetched the item, which Rorik had helped him make in secret, and picked it up using the fireproofed gloves, taking it back inside.

Everything Roktos owned was fireproofed. It was necessary, considering he was made of fire and molten rock.

He presented the wrapped gift to Lucian.

"Happy birthday buddy."

Klezmer Gryphon

Lucian had just finished telling a hilarious joke about a demon when Roktos had come in. He noticed his friend, and was somewhat glad he hadn't been present. Still, he looked down at the wrapped item, and, upon taking gingerly in his talons, had a puzzled look on his face. The way Roktos had wrapped it, he couldn't really tell what it was. His face pretty much said What is it?

Brisinger987

Wrapped in the brown thin paper wrapping was a beautifully crafted set of chain armour, painstakingly forged by Roktos in his spare time, the metal moulding under the heated hands of the fire demon. It would accompany the present that Rorik had prepared for him. A full set of jet laced armour, to be worn over the daemonite chain mail.

Klezmer Gryphon

Lucian smiled as he unwrapped his gift. Underneath the brown paper was a beautiful set of chain mail. He looked at Rpktos, then at the armor, then back to Roktos.

"Did you make this?" He asked, utterly in awe at the craftsmanship. Picking it up in his talons, he heard Rorik encouraging him to try it on, but, before he did, he felt a very painful, almost burning sensation in his hands, there was even a little bit of smoke coming off of his hands!

The chain mail dropped to the floor like a rock as the young gryphon clutched his talons, letting out a screech so loud it could be heard from across town! He had touched Daemonite before, but only when it was impure, trapped within the rock. As he gripped his hands, which only seemed to make the pain worse, Rorik opened the door, partly to let the young gryphon outside to the well, the other reason being to air out the smell of burnt feathers and flesh.

"It's not your fault, Roktos." He said, reassuringly. Looking out the window, the master blacksmith saw his wife trying to ease the pain his apprentice felt. What caused this?

Brisinger987

Roktos put his gloves on and picked up the chain mail, before touching it against his skin.

"It's completely cold..." Roktos wondered if the gryphon was part angel.

Klezmer Gryphon

The pain had started to subside. The water from the well he,led a great deal with that, but so did Sigrid's words. She had a way of easing his pain. As Lucian hovered by the well, he looked at his hands; burned and mangled from handling the Daemonite chain mail. He landed just for a little bit, but, as his hands touched the ground, he quickly got back in the air. They still stung, but at least he could still use them.

"Lucian, come inside. Water may well ease the pain, but burns still need proper care" It was Rorik. The master blacksmith waited at the door for his student to come in. The young gryphon complied, and, once inside the house, his master came out of the basement with some gauze.

"I just hope I can still work..." Lucian muttered. He loved working the metal, feeling the heat of the forge. But, if he had bandages on his talons, how was he supposed to work?

Brisinger987

Roktos had zoned out and was probing the metal intensely, trying to find any impurities. It wasn't like the metal wasn't to be handled by normal beings. It was compounded by iron and steel. Why had it burned his friend?

Roktos slowly walked out of the room, angry that he couldn't figure out why this stuff burned Lucian.

When he got to his fire proof room, he just went crazy, his anger melting his gloves, and the small amount of rock on his body melting with it, turning white under the heat.

The demon only wished his emotional range would allow him to cry. Instead, where people were sad, he went into a frustrated breakdown, and started cooling down, freezing into rock, until he cheered up again.

But he wasn't sad. He as angry. The daemonite chain mail melted in his hands. He threw a punch at the wall, which hurt his hand nastily, and left a scorch mark on the wall.

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