Welcome to Gaia! ::

Character || Ruelash
Stage || Knight
Crafting || Necklace
Crafting Stat || 23
Difficulty || 7
Roll Needed || 50-100
Rolled || 80
Outcome || Sucess!

7*6/3 = 14 exp
+ 20 = 34 exp

Scowling, Ruelash reached for another tooth. He wasn't going to give up, not that he had much choice. Volkarosh was such an efficient worker that she left few errands to do, and already, she was starting to run out of errands to occupy herself. A few more, and she would be bored.

The blizzard would not let up anytime soon, and there was a whole bucket of teeth and bone that the two of them had extracted from their kills... Ruelash would make that necklace yet.

He started on the tooth. It was big and broad but sharp, worn on the edges as if it's previous owner had made frequent use of it. He smoothed the edges, sharpening them into something that could be used as a weapon. He liked how imposing it looked in his hand, this piece of sharpness, and he began to carve into it.

First, a scene. That was what people carved into these things, didn't they? Scenes of life? Scenes of death? Ruelash thought for a moment, enough to almost think that he was hurting himself in the process. He could not think of anything that was within his (low) ability to carve, and his imagination was a limited beast, capable of guile and little else.

He looked around their shelter, seeking out something to inspire him – and settled on the fire. It was not raging – that would be stupid and, though Ruelash wasn't blessed with scholarly gifts, he knew his survival, and he knew fire. Between his hard-earned knowledge and Volkarosh's clear smarts (the girl was smart, really smart, probably smarter than her mother, even, if Ruelash dared to think it) they hadn't had any fire-related accidents. Though it was not burning like a bonfire, however, it still gave them light and warmth to fight off Bergchi's tests of cold and darkness, and their shelter was kept warm, dry, and comfortable.

He would carve the fire.

He started on the tooth, realizing quickly that carving fire was harder than he had thought. Fire was not just a bunch of squiggles, it was a complex tangle of different colors. It was like a sunset, captured, or a piece of the sun ripped from the sky and forced to obey the will of people. It was a hungry slave, the key to survival, the provider of warmth and food and safety. It even gave them water, if treated the right way.

He tried to express this in his carving of fire, though this was partly because he was trying to spend as much time on the tooth as possible. Time was too abundant now. In the clear times, he and the kid had so much to do, and even as efficiently as they could work, they barely managed. Now they had all the time in the world, it seemed, and there was nothing they could do that was not in the confines of their shelter.

Such was survival.

Ruelash blew the chalky dust off of his new necklace tooth, surprised to find that it was actually pretty good. He awled a hole in the top of it and started to go over it with charcoal. Again, beautiful... but there was nothing to string it on. ”Damn!” he cursed. He put the tooth aside and, annoyed at himself for forgetting, began to cut leather strings from their already tanned hides....

(565/500)