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Character || Dyakida
Stage || Journeyman Blacksmith
Crafting || Dual Blades
Crafting Stat || 32+5
Difficulty || 18
Roll Needed || 30-100
Rolled || 69
Outcome || Success
Experience earned ||
38 exp

Dyakida's friends were telling her terrible things.
”Someone's been saying that you steal the weapons that you sell.” one of them said.
”I heard someone say some radakucrap about you taking all the credit while having someone else make weapons for you.”
”I heard someone call you a coward. I thought we were done with that.”
”Someone's been spreading the rumor that you're with several male earthlings. We all know it's dung, but it's not nice, what they're saying.”

Who could possibly be spreading these rumors? And why? Dyakida did her best to not let them get to her – she had ignored similar things in the past, after all.

But then they got more personal and absurd. And her friends grew angrier.

”I heard someone whispering that you're not 'actually' blind. I gave them a what-for.”
”Theres someone whispering that you're not actually a woman, but some kind of invisibly part-blooded male that was left on the tree, and that's why you're not a proper warrior. I told them how stupid that was.”
”I heard someone saying something about how you're a spy for the earthlings. They won't be saying that anymore.”

Why this? Why now? Sometimes, rumors came in storms, and sometimes she became a target of them. Dyakida did her best to ignore it, and was glad to have friends who could put down these rumors for her. Still, it bothered her, and she retreated into her workshop for a while.

She was crafting a set of blades shaped like leaves. With more of her Sisters leaving the jungle for other lands, she thought it might be good to have something of home at their fingertips, protecting them in battle as needed. The shape itself was not an issue, but the veining designs would be – likely, she would have to use a crystalline corrosive to etch the designs, something that wouldn't weaken the crystal structure.

Flowers outside her workshop's window perfumed the air as she chiseled the blades into shape. It was a soothing smell, relaxing. Things had gotten rough as of late, but the scent was a reassurance, as if Jauhar itself wanted her to know that things would be all right. She took a deep breath of it and stretched, leaning back. Things would be all right.

“Hey, 'Kida.”

Dyakida smiled in the general direction of the door. “Hello, Youmi.” she said, “What do you think of the blades so far?”

“They're lovely. 'Kida, I need to talk to you.” Youmi's voice sounded pensive, upset.

“All right.” Dyakida gestured for her to sit. “What is it?” She could sense her Sister's nervousness. “What is the matter?”

“It's... I found out whose been spreading around all those rumors about you...” she said.

“Oh?” Dyakida feigned disinterest as best she could. “Just one person?”

“Yes.”

“Those were a lot of rumors for one person.” Dyakida wondered if she wanted to know who this person was. But she was curious. Who would put so much effort into attacking her? Who would care so much? “Who... are they?”

“It's Semashi, 'Kida. Semashi is doing all of this!”

Dyakida knew she was staring. Even without sight, one could stare. “... What...” she said, after a moment, “What did you say?”

“It was her. I have proof. Every rumor, every one. Came from her. That's why they're sticking around. She did it, 'Kida.” her friend's voice broke, “I'm so sorry.”

Youmi was crying. Dyakida felt like screaming. How could this be true? Semashi couldn't have said those things about her. She couldn't have. They were together! But Youmi wouldn't lie.

“Your proof.” Dyakida said, her voice clipped, “What is your proof.”

“I... She said something about that thorn bow you had, that it was all show and no use, that you make pretty things but they aren't actually very good. You know, she was the only one you let test it. The rest of us, we've... we've barely seen it. That, and...” Youmi's voice was tense, as if she expected Dyakida to hurt her for this. “And I heard her. She told a different lie to different people. Oh, 'Kida, the look on her face... the look... I'm so sorry.” Her hug felt like the action of someone falling, and she cried on Dyakida's shoulder. “I'm so sorry.”

The blades lay forgotten as Dyakida hugged her friend, stunned at the revelation.