Wanderer's Woes
Twentieth Day of the Third Month 292 AC
He would never get used to this damn eastern sun, Waymar knew with utter certainty as he sweated profusely under the smoldering glare of the Essosi summer only slightly moderated by the breeze from he sea. His face would look like a beat soon enough if this kept up. It would not be so bad if he did not have to suffer alone, but his companions were the children of
far hotter climes than these or else they shunned the face of the sun a altogether like Garin.
Perhaps it was not altogether fair to take his discomfort out on those he was testing for skill, but, he remained himself of Ser Godric's words about it being better to shed sweat than blood. The boy still felt a small pang when he remembered his old mentor, more like an old ache now than the fresh pain of betrayal...
As he stopped for a drink and a chance to catch his breath he wondered how the man was doing for he'd had no news of him since that fateful day when the knight delivered Waymar in chains to Runestone. Little Cora must be growing up into a young lady now, much of an age with the princess... though not
like her. He almost laughed aloud at the absurd image of solid, parochial Ser Godric and his timid lady wife dealing with the likes of Daenerys Targaryen.
Gods help him he was growing maudlin over people who would not take him in out of the rain. The boy sighed. He missed home... he missed familiar faces and familiar voices speaking the tongue of his childhood. Perhaps now that Viserys could had learned so many magics to speed travel along....
A sort of pull, within his thoughts but not of them drew the boy from his mussing. A moment later Winter landed on this shoulder with a thump. "Nesting humans came.. gold-haired girl said come."
It was all Waymar could do not to roll his eyes at the pidgin that came out of the bird's beak. He could speak perfectly good common, but sometimes he would revert to this nonsense "to help him exercise his mind not just his body." For himself Waymar just thought the raven was bored, ormaybe he had spent too long around Bloodraven.
***
Tyene was standing next to the heavy stone table in the middle of the larger room of the ruined house they had taken for their own. From the way the Dronish 's eyes could not quite stay away from the stone tablets set there by the local delegation Waymar guessed whatever it was must be of great worth... though he doubted one who did not kk\now her well would be able to tell.
"You can read High Valyrian, right?" Tyene asked him in Common.
"So the Maester told me... on occasion," Waymar replied wryly as he turned his attention to the etchings. Unsurprisingly he was not able to parse out the arcane text on his own but with Tyene's help he got the gist of it.
The young Valemen knew himself well enough to guess that he was not containing his excitement nearly as well as Tyene. "You would not need to be a mage to use this. It's like..." he struggled for words, trying to imagine what Lya would call the thing before him. "A conceptual tool for enchantment."
"And they know what they got even if they've not the master smiths to make use of it," Tyene put in sounding less upset and more excited at the challenge.
OOC: I was tempted to put in a cliffhanger here but in the end I decided against it. You rolled very well for local lore. What you have here is a way for master smiths (experts with no magic) to create very very basic enchanted weapons and armor (+1 enchantment).