Of Poison and Steel
Twenty Seventh Day of the Second Month 294 AC
Gogossos, Sixth Level of the Flesh Forge
As he watched the substance bubble through delicate seeming tubes of glass enchanted to be hard as granite and pulse through false organs of necrotic flesh designed in arcane mirroring of a liver's purifying function, Qyburn wondered for the first time what would have become of him if at some point in his long and frustrating years as an acolyte he simply snapped. If he had tossed the glittering links into the Honeywyne and taken ship to Braavos, then sought an apprenticeship from those who did not fear cutting into living flesh? Would they have taken him, the merchants of death? Would he have found some semblance of the strange peace-in-endings he glimpsed behind their unwavering gazes?
The thought was at once enticing in the freedom he might have had for so many decades, not having to scramble and hide like a rat in the dark, and horrifying, in what he had come to understand of their philosophy. The once-maester understood in the abstract why they must be, servants of the many faces of Death, guards against the Void that would snuff out all knowledge and all minds that might appreciate them. Yet the idea that he might have been hobbled to a single mortal life and glad of it, when sorcery could make him so much more... it sickened him. Truly, his stomach lurched and twisted at the thought, though there was no physical cause for it. Was this the unease he saw in the eyes of so many who looked upon his creations?
Looking across the hall to his fellow brewer of arcane poisons, he simply asked her. Elaheh was more knowledgeable in the shaping of minds than him, and she did not find troubling his habit of asking questions unfiltered by the pointless frippery of polite discourse.
The kyton hummed thoughtfully, a multi-tonal sound that was the mark of the constant tinkering with her voice box. "No, it is not analogous. The feeling you are describing is much more cerebral and abstract. Disgust, such as many creations of the flesh can invoke in the narrow-minded, is at its core an impression of the hind brain that something is not
edible. How and why that poisons so much of their impressions of the world, including of things they would never be expected to eat, is hard for me to judge."
Qyburn nodded at her answer. He was not really that curious about the precise flaws in reasoning that afflicted the common run of humanity, though perhaps soon he would have new insight into the workings of all minds just the same.
The Undeath's End Progress 23/50
***
Outskirts of Gogossos
In a place not so distant as the crow flies, or perhaps as the mole borrows, another artificer was working upon a task no less complex than refining a poison to strike down those already dead, though her work could afford to gleam brightly under the summer sun rather than be hidden way in secret caverns. A tree, a giant of the forest, smashed down among its fellows with a dozen cracks like thunder and the squawks of countless winged lizards who did not appreciate the rude awakening. Below it, what looked like a giant in the armor of a knight marked with the seals of empire, or perhaps some new construct, motioned victoriously at the sky.
"Alright, now I want you to climb the log and run along it as fast as you can and tell me how it runs." Valeria called out calmly. They could have just used any of a number of ledges and walls in the city itself, but the jungle really did need cutting back out here, so they might as well help out, and if any beasts of the deep jungle decided to come out and try to make a meal of whatever was demolishing the jungle, that too could be a test of the armor.
The thick plate of crystal that served as the armor's visor flashed in the sun as the figure nodded and then it launched itself into an unexpectedly graceful jump for such a large form, unexpected to someone who was not Valeria at least. Making the Warden Armor strong had been straightforward, making it nimble had been almost painfully frustrating at times, but no less necessary. No matter how strong you make something, there is always something stronger from which it should get out of the way.
Unfortunately, she did not need to ask for a verbal report. The armor was still favoring its right leg after jumping even with the modifications to the spell of animation. It evened out in a few moments, but that sort of obvious predictable flaw was simply unacceptable in Valeria's craft. Lives would depend upon the reliability of these armors, perhaps even the fate of whole battles.
"Alright, get back here. We aren't finishing this month, but I'll be damned if this armor does not run perfectly by the time we are done," she called out, mind already on the next potential solution
Tireless Steel by Sorcery moved Progress 14/18
What next?
[] Qohor and its Nightmares
[] A Midnight Visitor (Yin Background Event)
[] The Swamps Dried
[] Write in
OOC: I hope putting two interludes together like this is not too jarring. Not yet edited