Hashkar 131, Day 24, 5 BP (Nuuko)

[TheGratefulNed]

Shortly after the skies of the Cage begin to lighten for the day, the oily mist that had pervaded the night turns into a hard, steady rainfall. Nuuko barely notices the change as he walks through the streets of the Lower Ward. His nearly white hair is thoroughly soaked with the black substance that passes for water in this impossibly perched city.

The bizarre Prime elf walks confidently toward the massive wrought-iron gates of the Great Foundry with a slight smirk creasing his right cheek. Seeing yet another race he didn't recognize, the desert elf strode directly for the thing he took to be some sort of giant. Stopping a pace short of the large gate guard, Nuuko's raspy voice called up to him, "the blistering Athasian sun and freezing desert nights, a nomadic tribal life, fighting or evading Thri-kreen and always living in the Now have molded me into what I am. Your faction seems to understand this is the way of things and for that reason I seek initiation into your ranks."

[Stix]

"You see, basher," says the giant to one of the armored halberdier gate guards, "some good can come out of every day." The being's voice is in such a low register that it takes some effort of concentration to make out every word.

He offers a hand to Nuuko with a smile. "Ombidias. A Prime, like yourself, and also a tribesman. Welcome to the Great Foundry, and I'm glad to hear of your interest. Why don't we tour the works while we discuss membership?" He stands aside, gesturing for the elf to come along.

[TheGratefulNed]

Grasping the giant's massive forearm in welcome, Nuuko nods. "Well met, Ombidias. I'm Nuuko of the Night Runners tribe," comes his airy, raspy voice. Following Ombidias' gesture, the dark elf steps out of the rain-soaked Sigilian streets and into the Godsmen headquarters.

[Stix]

Nuuko and Ombidias stroll lazily along through a wide open scrapyard, bustling with activity even this early in the morning, full of cast-off metal and slag. "New recruits need to learn their way around the Foundry. If you're used to blistering heat, you might find the feeling familiar." A cart pushed by two men in heavy leather aprons wheels out of the nearby side gate, squealing in protest under its heavy burden: several hundred iron bars of varying thicknesses and lengths. The sight and even the scent of so much metal has Nuuko's heart threatening to burst out of his chest.

"We're passing by the bar-works now. We make everything from hinge-pins to girders, and supply all across the Cage. Also out that gate is the sheet-works, and toward the far end of the complex is the wire-works. I'll show you the storage yard a bit later," Ombidias says, pointing toward another gate along the far wall for which the cart is bound, "but right now, we're headed for the main works."

Approaching the towering central building, the atmosphere is markedly warmer. The wood giant pulls open the great iron door with relative ease, allowing the Athasian the first step inside.

Never in his most impossible dreams would Nuuko have believed that such a place could exist.

A gout of hot air stings his eyes, drying them like a run across the salt flats. An unearthly stench like nothing he's smelled before attacks his sinuses along with some sort of ash, soot, or grit in the air. Vats of a strange liquid, viscous and glowing -- could it really be molten metal? -- sit positioned around the room, and smiths work simultaneously, deafeningly, with great metal hammers, pounding on enormous blocks of metal.

Ombidias continues to talk, but the pitch of his voice and the roaring of bellows are impossible to distinguish.

[TheGratefulNed]

Nuuko matches the giant's slow pace and looks about in amazement. At the comment of feeling at home in the heat, he simply smirks. The scent of the various alloys and ores has him in good spirits, but the sight of the iron-laden wagon makes the lanky elf stop, mouth agape and eyes wide. It takes him a few seconds to realize that Ombidias had gained a few lengths and was addressing him again. In only two long paces the Athasian catches up to his guide and, nodding in wonder, stammers, "bar-works...indeed." Focusing himself as much as possible on the other Prime's words he notes the direction to the sheet- and wire-works and watches the bar-filled cart inveighing against it's load for a long moment while distractedly walking toward the main building.

Slowly, but curiously, Nuuko steps past the massive opened door. The heated gust makes him squint momentarily before setting his eyes in a narrowed gaze, like when he Runs. The particulates in the atmosphere are not unlike the sandy, dusty air he's accustomed to breathing...but there's something heavier to it that he just can't place. Then it hits him, METAL! I'm breathing it, it's everywhere. Their tools are metal, adornments are metal, they're melting it, hammering it, shaping it... His mind whirling and only vaguely aware that he's still following the giant, Nuuko wouldn't have heard his words if the place was silent as high-noon on the Scorched Plateau.