[OPEN] I am not alone anymore

[cloudgazer]

WHO: Romola Kader, Nari Dahlasanor + OPEN
WHAT: A dwarf in her shop in Lowtown.
WHEN: Throughout March.
WHERE: The Lampworks in Lowtown.
NOTES: None currently, will update as needed.

The Lampworks in Lowtown isn't a brand new establishment. Its dwarven proprietress has been eking out a living on the same narrow side-street in Kirkwall for the last five or so years, quietly producing and selling a wide variety of lampwork beads and baubles. She keeps to her regularly posted hours and doesn't get out much.

She sees and hears plenty, though, especially as it regards the Inquisition.


I. THE SHOP (OPEN)


It's the windows of the Lampworks that likely draw in the more discerning of her clientele: Seraultine stained glass, which, when closed, dapple the inside of the humble shop with a multitude of brilliant colours. On a cold day like this, they're most certainly closed; Romola is content to sit behind her counter with a warm mug of tea in hand, and appreciate the self-made nature of her work around her.

She has set up a number of simple display tables to showcase the smaller of her baubles; little brooches sporting unique designs, animal or nature motifs; a few of a more religious bent to lend her establishment a bit of respectability. (She is hardly one to object to Andrastianism, but her particular brand of it is liable to raise a few eyebrows here. She plays those cards close to her chest.)



II. CLOSED TO NARI


When Romola isn't in the Lampworks' storefront, she is in the workshop accessible through a private door, which contains enough light and ventilation for her to work her craft in relative comfort. That is where she is this morning, in the process of setting up her oil-fuelled lamp and placing the tools of her trade within easy reach. The storefront itself is currently tended to by an elderly elven woman.

Comments

so many colors *-*

[nadasharillen]

There's the soft noise of the door to the shop opening, another of it being closed with care, and then a deep female voice, quiet and respectful, with a Dalish lilt.

"Atish'an, hahren. Are you the one who creates these wares?"

[cloudgazer]

The elderly woman looks up from her book keeping to smile at Nari in a grandmotherly sort of way and shakes her head. "Messere Kader is in the workshop at the moment."

"It's all right, Ilora." A dwarven woman comes to stand in the doorway leading back to the workshop, already wearing a dense leather apron and a pair of glass goggles which are currently positioned on her forehead. Her accent is distinctly Orlesian, but it's easily enough to tell she isn't from Val Royeaux.

"Andaran atish'an," she greets Nari with startling fluency and takes off her gloves, tucking them into her belt. "You are looking to buy today?"

[nadasharillen]

Hearing the elvhen greeting coming from a dwarf would make Nari blink even without the smooth delivery; with that addition, her eyebrows dart upwards as well. It seems that both craft and craftswoman are surprising.

"Ma serranas. Looking, certainly," she replies. Craftsmanship of this caliber must certainly fetch a dear price... but it was more than lovely. Perhaps something small? Her eyes sweep the small tables with obvious interest and approval, marveling at the detail. "It's... is it glass? I've not seen its like."

[cloudgazer]

"...Looking, certainly."

The dwarf smiles thinly, understanding, then follows the line of Nari's sight to the display tables. For a moment she and Ilora exchange a few friendly words in Orlesian, at which point the elderly woman returns her attention to the shop's account books. This allows the artisan herself the opportunity to step from behind the counter and come to stand beside Nari, peering into one of the display cases with her.

"It's... is it glass? I've not seen its like."

"It is. Lampwork," she adds for clarification, then withdraws a set of keys from her pocket and makes to unlock the case before them. "Would you like a closer look?"

[nadasharillen]

"Lampwork," repeats Nari slowly, her brow furrowing in thought, "I'm not familiar." she admits, then nods eagerly at Romola as she pulls the keys out and gestures towards the case. "Please."

"Is it Orlesian in origin?" she asks, making a haphazard guess based on the words that had been exchanged between the dwarf and her shopkeep.

[cloudgazer]

"Is it Orlesian in origin?"

Her lips twist some at the corners; is it a grimace, or a wince? Hard to say. "Seraultine, mais, yes," she clarifies, then slips the key into the lock and turns it. The clear glass cover folds up easily, revealing the intricate pieces of glasswork resting on a soft bed of fabric for Nari's perusal.

Many of them are ostensibly small glass beads, but there are several little figurines as well; tiny animals, such as a little frog resting on the curve of a bending leaf, or a fish with elegant, fan-like fins swimming through a mote of water. There are even a few pieces that resemble small berries in such exacting detail that one might even suspect actual fruit fell into the case when it was open. The proprietress is quiet while Nari examines the wares, but there's clear pride at her work in her expression.

[nadasharillen]

Nari catches the brief twist of Romola's mouth; she's made an error. And apparently a common one. "Abelas, I don't know Serault," she says, then huffs amused air at herself through her nose, "It's no slight. I don't know much of the shem'len world's organization. It--ah--didn't used to matter." And then once it did, there were other (and borderless) things to worry about.

"May I?" she inquires, gesturing at the small intricate fish.

[cloudgazer]

Romola gives her head only the slightest of shakes at Nari's apology, but the smile for her is warmer this time; it's easier for her to communicate reassurance through a glance than through words, and so hopes the sentiment is plain in her eyes. Whatever unpleasant feeling she reserves for Orlais, for the place where she was born, none of that is Nari's fault.

"May I?"

At that inquiry her smile strengthens, and she dips her head in a brief nod. "Of course," she says and motions for Nari to select whichever one has caught her fancy.

[nadasharillen]

Nahariel reaches a careful hand out for the small fan-finned fish in its droplet and holds it both delicately and firmly in her fingertips, leaning in to better appreciate the detail.

"It looks near living," she says wonderingly, turning it to catch the already splintered light on the different colors and angles. "I know many artisans prefer to keep the secrets of their work to themselves--I'd certainly not be offended if keeping a little mystery was your desire--but I'm fair desperate to see how you craft these." Although it's small, there's a hopeful upturn in the elf's tone. (Can I see?)

"I promise I'll stick to wood," she says, looking over at the proprietress with a lopsided grin.

[cloudgazer]

Romola stands to the side and watches as Nari collects up the small glass figurine, the corners of her mouth quirking upward in private delight. That request gives her a moment's pause, and in the intervening moments, she turns a careful, considering look upon the elven woman beside her. Years spent in indentured servitude to a number of unsavoury types have given her a resting expression of placid inscrutability, but it serves well to mask her feelings, her thoughts, as she makes decisions.

But then her smile grows warmer again, and she dips her head in another nod. "Oui, come," she says at last, the blue of her eyes brightening, and she gestures Nari through to her workshop located just behind the storefront.

It's a simple set-up, with all of the trappings of her craft packed into a relatively small space; there's a window open to allow ventilation, and the fire within the lamp is already lit and burning, preparing for her first project of the day. Various long rods of glass of multiple colours have been arranged nearby next to sketches done in charcoal of what she intends to design. For safety's sake, there's also a mask, some dense gloves, and an apron hanging nearby.

"You are a woodworker, then?" she asks after a pause.

[nadasharillen]

Romola's workshop is magnificent. There's always something about an artisan's space of creation that makes Nari's heart lift; even moreso when it's accompanied by the surge of excited curiosity that comes upon discovering the workings of a new craft. Those glass rods, they must be where all the different colors come from, but how in June's name do they transform from that raw state to the delicacy she'd seen out in the shopfront?

And then her own curiosity. Could that glass fill knots and holes to make unsuitable pieces of wood into things of solid whole beauty, turn the hollowed out spiral of a staff into a stained glass window in miniature, or would the heat of it be too much? How much heat did it need? What if the wood had been fire tempered first?

She realizes belatedly that she's still carrying the fish, and that Romola had asked her a question.

"Oh, I-- yes, I am."

[purered]

There's an old proverb about a bull and a china shop and exactly why the two shouldn't go together. And the man that stepped in looked very much like the start of an inevitable disaster, full of broken glass and awkward apologies.

Contrary to his appearance, however, he maneuvered between the shelves with a practiced ease of someone all too used to navigating a world he's a bit too big for, and he browsed the displays with great care - only occasionally picking up something to inspect it before setting it down daintily.

His curiosity about the glassworks seemingly sated, he approached the counter and gave a small, polite nod.

"Er... good afternoon," he remarked, his polite and softspoken tone not really fitting the permanent scowl his mouth was pulled in by a rather unfortunate underbite and a pair of protruding fangs, "I'm not sure if this is an unusual request, but I was told this was my best possible option to get my spectacles repaired."

He set said spectacles on the counter, and low and behold, one of the lenses had a nasty chip and crack in it.

"I'm rather hopeless without them," he explained, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

[cloudgazer]

It is not his size that catches Romola's attention so much as the poise of his bearing, which puts her ill at ease at least until she discerns, through a better glance, that he's one of the Inquisition's rifters. If her eyes widen slightly at the strange, protruding fangs that extend upwards from his bottom jaw, can she really be blamed?

At the very least, she regains her aplomb by the time Klaus approaches her counter--and looks surprised to hear that she's been recommended to perform this manner of service. She blinks up at her tall patron, then recalls her manners.

"Ah. Beg pardon, messere--I shall take a look."

Frowning some, she takes hold of the spectacles with both hands and lifts them up so that the light spilling through one of the windows falls through the lens. She voices a nondescript, pensive sort of sound as she considers the crack, her lips twisting. "It may require a new lens entirely," she replies, shifting her attention to him with some regret. Her eyes dart to those fangs again before, realizing her rudeness, she forces herself to look back to his eyes instead.