Welcome to Gaia! ::

Customizing || Spear (Two-toned spear)
Luck Stat || 20+2
Item Durability || 11
Rolls Needed || 70-100
Rolled || 20
Outcome || Failure
Resulting Item Tier || NA

There were beads of water forming on the wicker basket that held her tools. Jauhar was usually – in fact, always – wet, but it was only cool at night, and only briefly. Tonight, it was cool enough for dew... tonight. Dyakida blinked slowly, startled by the coolness that soaked into her hands. It was nighttime? Already? She put aside the spear she had completed and rubbed her face, only now noticing the exhaustion that suffused her body. It had lain there, in her veins, dormant until now.

“Peyla?” she called to the sprite, hearing a sleepy answering chime from the folded cloth that served as Peyla's 'bed'. “Help me put this away?” Another chime, tired but eager. Peyla would help her ensure that things would stay in their places, just as she always did. A sudden cry of delight sounded by her ear. “Peyla?” A droplet of water splashed onto her face. “Peyla...” happy chimes came from the basket, and there was the sound of movement and hands. “Ah. You are playing with the water.” It must, indeed, be shiny. “I'll put this away myself.” she said, smiling, “You just check my work, then.” She was sure the sprite ignored her. Peyla loved her and was reliable, but she had a habit of doing that where sparkly things were concerned, and she was sure that dew was very sparkly indeed.

She put her things away with great care – her tools in their carrying box, in the groove in the workbench made to fit it. Her materials, in their respective places. The spear, with the textured label that would tell her who it belonged to, in the armory where she kept her finished works. It was a simple thing – she hoped it would be more, but in the end the quality of materials that she had would not have stood up to the kind of work she wanted to do. One day, she would find that material and shape it for her sisters, and they would see what she could truly do... but until then, this weapon was good enough.

Peyla's apologetic chime brought a muted laugh from her. “Done with your play? Make sure the colors are in the right place.” she said. She used placement to help with color, but since it was something she could not typically feel, she occasionally sorted something wrong. This made for the occasional interesting accessory, to be sure, and sometimes the color combinations were, she heard, not the greatest. Mostly, though, it was for pride and control. Her own pride. Her own control.

As Peyla checked the placements, Dyakida prepared for bed. This was not the first time she had accidentally stayed up later than she should with her crafting, and it would not be the last. She had a lot to do, and easily became lost in doing it. Perhaps too lost. What would happen to her if she was lost, completely, to her work? When, indeed, was the last time she'd taken for herself? She couldn't remember. Not the tournament, surely – that had been work. She'd taken a professional interest in the tournament, as any weapon crafter should. That had not been a break... but she'd been tempted to make it one.

She'd heard that the beaches of Matori were warm and comfortable, covered with soft, fine sand. The food there, she had also heard, was lovely; fruits and fish and spices, she'd heard. Lovely. And, she knew, there were Sister's there – V'demhe and her children lived there. Young Masika had as much as invited her to stay with them. It would be interesting to learn about the sisters that lived abroad, and especially the ones who had been raised so far from the Mother Tree. She wanted to meet them, and know them for herself.

Perhaps, at some point, she should take them up on their offer... provided she could find someone to take her there safely.

Perhaps soon.