Snippet #2652435

Amon was working at his station, the shield done, on a sword he'd been commissioned to craft to be given to the next tournament champion. He'd make it a worthy prize. As he heated the steel in the forge he heard footsteps in the gravel he'd placed around his forge to prevent anyone sneaking up on him. Turning to see who approached he found a man with a mischievous look and darker clothing than he expected approaching . "Can I help you, sir?" He asked, not recognizing the man as a fighter.

***

Caspian was relieved when the mage responded favorably to his impertinent request. When the intuitive man made comment on the guards Caspian clenched his fist hard subconsciously, "Those bastards don't even count as high as thugs." He breathed as he stood to the side to allow the man to work.

It was not the first time that he had born witness to magic, and definatley not in this capacoty. His grandmother was capable of basic healing spells, though not much else, and had mended multiple scrapes he'd had as a young boy. Though to compare his gran to Antius was like comparing a child singing nonsense to themselves to a famous vocalist entertaining the crowds before a match. Magus was able to heal far more surface wounds in a single burst than anyone Caspian had seen to date."Thanks, you're magics pretty impressive, sir!" Caspian breathed a sigh of relief as Nomire eased at the release of the pain.

As the scholar solidly suggested that the youth be allowed to rest Caspian nodded and picked the tired child up with no real effort and followed after Antius. The man was speaking of payment and after seeing the skill and speed he had used Caspian was certain that his mother's seasoned meats was not going to be a sufficient offering. Thankfully the man was rather blunt with what he wanted; a way out.

Caspian was taken aback, stopping outside his lodging the young man looked about, wondering how he should respond. But as the now asleep boy he carried coughed and the memories of all the cruelty he'd seen in his short time at the Colosseum leaked into his mind he found his apprehension fading fast. He swallowed hard and nodded several times, each more assertive than the Las as he entered the room and placed Nomire on a straw mat, "Yeah... y-Yeah alright." The blacksmith wiped his hands on his leather apron and clasp them together, rubbing his Palma as if trying to warm his hands as he circled around to the lock on the gate.

"Guess you must be pretty popular for them to leave your cell open," he commented as he knelt to the ground to examine the lock, "but thankfully, you're not so popular as to have one of the penthouse rooms for the top fighters."

Reaching into a pouch on his side the young blacksmith produced a small chisel and a metal rod with a small hook at the end. "See, the locks up there are each handmade by my mentor and need a special key, you'd never pick 'em," Caspian said with a slight out of pride mixed to his voice as he felt along the edge of the lock, " but these, like most of the pit locks, are made by some cheapskate in the city, ouhmf!" He found a small seam on the face of the lock plate and placed his chisel against it and pryed into the small slit with a slight exertion. The plate separated from the lock box and he bent the thin metal forward easily.

" Thanks to the management cutting corners these locks are so cheap and easily made, you don't even need a key, watch," he took the plate off with a pop and slowly inserted the rod into the mechanism on the lock, "just, uhm, tell anyone you want to help you that all they have to do, oof, is this." He explained as he juggled the rod back and forth until the entire assembly fell out with a clang the bar retracting and releasing the lock. "See, easy as can be, anyone with a dagger should be able to do that." Caspian smiled to the man uneasily.

"But, uh, you know there is no closing it once you do that, notmally," he looked to Nomire to steel his resolution, "though since you, um, did such a service for him, I'll do so in kibd." He said cryptically as he put the mechanism on his lap, took out some more tolls and went to work on it. "Thus should make it so your lock will appear to seal, but one good shove should get it unstuck."

The process of jerry rigging the lock took a few moments in which time Caspian became aware of a possible painful silence between them. Swallowing again he looked up at the man before continuing his work, "Say, uh, Sir Magus... mind if I ask you a question, what with you being a scholar and all?" He requested, "Do you know any reason behind someone having the same strange dream over and over again?"