The Fires of Creation
Twenty-Seventh Day of the Twelfth Month 292 AC
You turn to look over the crowd: from your friends looking on with a tolerant good cheer, to your subjects in whose eyes you spy a spark of wonder, to your mother hidden behind her facade of illusion, and even the representative of the Iron Bank and the Sealord's unofficial eyes in the Deep whom you had 'coincidentally' invited.
"People of Sorcerers Deep, friends, family, soldiers, workers, citizens, and honored guests. It's been only a few scant months since our enemies used the infernal, sorcerous power of Wildfire to try and wipe our city from the face of this earth, sowing despair and destruction on those who dared dream for a better future," you declare with pride. "As I promised you then in the midst of the ashes and the smoke, so I deliver to you now the first part of my promise. Thanks to Lya's keen mind and sorcerous might, and with the help of hundreds of other hard working citizens of the Deep, fey, human, minotaur and beyond, a great work of a kind unseen in ages has been erected." Here you catch Malarys' eye and offer the smallest shrug, a sort of half-apology for again comparing this single simple smelter to the works of Valyria of old. Yet even as you do so you silently vow that you will surpass those ancient forges in majesty.
"Sorcerous fire sought to destroy this city, but that is not all that is magic, for sorcerous power now stands ready at the tips of our fingers not to
destroy, but to
create. From this cauldron of steel and sweat comes but the first part of a golden future now within reach. Enemies rise from the waves, from the hells, from the dealings with cruel Lords and Masters, and yet for each of them that rise we rise
higher still. From this engine of steel and magic the Legions of the Deep shall be armed and armored, a statement to the monsters and those foolish enough to stand against us, a statement which proves an age old adage true enough… a statement I have
seen and
breathed throughout my travels." Here you pause, allowing a deathly hush to fall upon the gathering that no sound may be heard but for that of the smelter itself... No doubt they can guess the words that will come next, yet still they wait with seeming baited breath.
"Even monsters can
bleed." Smiths and soldiers, men of means and simple folk whose only skill by the work of their brow all cheer together as one caught up in the power of your words, dare you hope, of your vision? When the cheers fall silent at last you carry through, "And bleed they shall. No soldier of mine shall be found wanting, and thus no piece of equipment for them shall be neglected. In fine steel as crafted from a master's hand I will armor them, and with cold, unyielding steel I shall
arm them. They shall be the hand of the King locked in fist, so that all citizens of my realm may sleep soundly at night."
Amidst the smiling faces and shining eyes you can clearly see the expression of the Iron Bank's representative's lighten as a far more immediate concern than horrors from the deep is lifted from his shoulders, knowing the steel will not be sold but used for your own ends at least for now. You do not begrudge it for it is clear a tendency to get caught up in passionate speeches would be rather detrimental to a man in his position.
Thus you pass to that which is nearest to your heart of all the words you shall speak today. "Know that this creation does more than herald righteous battle. It heralds the beginning of a new age for all mankind and beyond. Through hard work and persistence, we will soon behold a dozen creations of the same ambitious scope, if not purpose. Magic and our ingenuity shall continue onward, creating new and revolutionary constructs which will better the lives of all citizens. New business opportunities will continue to emerge as two of the most potent forces in history join in solemn matrimony: Human Ingenuity and Magic. From their union their children shall populate this earth: Prosperity, Order, and perhaps most important of all:
Hope."
This time the pause in your words heralds a different sort of silence... contemplative and broken up by the odd patter of applause coming out of time from those more excitable, or perhaps more desirous of favors, members of the court.
"At first glance one may see only a large furnace behind me, but I see but the first glimmers of a glorious future given physical form. And so, from the bottom of my heart, to all those who stand with me in search of this vision, I say thank you. To Lya the Sage, to my artificers and my enchanters, to my countless workers who even now stand ready to pour steel and through their sweat bring about a vision for a new age: To you all, I say Thank You."
As the commemorative ingots are being handed out you step away, back into the company of your friends, to perhaps unsurprisingly find Lya blushing as she tells you, "You did not have to make it sound like I made the whole thing. The tinker fey..."
"Care very little for my or anyone else's accolades, and considering what they are most known for I did not consider it wise to mention their involvement too deeply. You seem more trustworthy then them, love," you offer with a smile.
As her embarrassment cools, she shakes her head as though in disappointment. "Faint praise that, but I suppose I shall have to take it."
"There is still time to call it Lya Steel if you've changed your mind," you offer innocently.
It is fortunate, perhaps, that she had not picked up her ingot yet.
***
On the way back to the Deep you seek out Leila Hill for a word. At first she seems apprehensive, though not as weary as she might have been a few months back. When you reveal that you come bearing not reproach but terms of service including half a hundred gold dragons per month the young woman seems rather overwhelmed.
"Your grace, you don't need to..." she begins, but you cut her off.
"Perhaps I indeed do not
need to pay you an honest wage, but I wish to nonetheless. Before you count it exorbitant, consider the sheer scarcity of your skills in this world of awakening power."
"Bless you... that is, thank you, your grace," she says, flustered.
Realizing that any notion of public acclaim is likely to be viewed with alarm, you merely offer gently, "You might wish to consider a name also, for surely you have outgrown your current one."
With that you bid her farewell and leave her to her thoughts.
What do you do next?
[] Speak to Liset and Reva about Bloodraven's offer
-[] Write in
[] Speak with Maelor about his own plans for the future
-[] Write in
[] Write in (Free action length only)
OOC: Here's your chance for some more conversations before the turn vote rolls around. 
