[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

[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."