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The red-haired pixie grins playfully as she returns to Virtue hall, carrying her usual variety of bags and pushing a wheelbarrow before her. 'Bag lady' they sometimes call her, but the name only makes her giggle. She zips through the door to the forge, the pass-through magic forcing her loyal doberman to remain outside, and unloads twenty heavy steel broadswords from her dimensional pocket, dumping them into the scrap steel bin with a clatter.
The pixie pays little attention to her costume as she fires up the forge. The lace-edged bodice, made by her clan-brother Bertrand, though it looks far different, now, than when he crafted it for her (restrung, of course), and the short blue skirt (also restrung), crafted by the, sometimes creepy, but handsome and attractive, neon haired pixie mage extraordinaire, Yorkin, are both stronger than they look and will not be harmed by mere forgefire and raw steel ore.
With a toss of her bright red hair, held firmly by a crystal tiara, Felicia exchanges the embroidered silk handkerchief in her hand for a pair of steel tongs and pulls a broadsword from the bin to smelt it down quickly. The raw ore produced isn't close to what she needs so she repeats the process until the ore is sufficient, then forms the steel into a dagger-like form, nodding slightly and taking up a hammer.
As she pounds, Felicia ponders why she makes weapons at all. She is high in the temple of Barbades, possibly the highest worshipper of all, aside from Duchess Raine, and is sworn not to kill the other residents of Naerlan. She takes the oath seriously, indeed, though she has failed, twice, in preserving the life of her opponent, a fact that torments her in idle moments of thought. She would have to answer to Barbades for her crimes, someday, but she knew he would be merciful. She was repentant, no matter what Tlenok had said. She had not meant to... She did not enjoy... She only went armed to protect herself and her allies and fr.. Crash! the hammer shatters the form and she ducks the flying ore, frowning at herself for losing her concentration so badly as she smelts down the pieces she can find and begins again.
"I make weapons so my friends can defend themselves... and for the Knights and Scouts that are allied with us, so they can protect all of Tharel in the manner they must," she tells herself, then nods, her eyes determined as she draws another broadsword from the scrap bin...
Come and see what else is happening in the world of Tharel!
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