Author's Note: This chapter also took some artistic liberties on the smith, but I am likewise pleased with how he turned out. Soon, we will be meeting the Daedra Lord himself, won't that be fun? Don't be afraid to review.
Chapter 21: Ignorance in Bliss
Siena was relieved to finally make an exit from that blacksmith shop while keeping relatively cut-free. While she had no doubt the Bosmeri smith, Cutter, would be able to make her some fine weaponry, her obsessions were off-putting. And from her armor selections, she also appeared to specialize in the more weighty armors, which was not what Siena needed. She needed light, flexible armor.
But it had taken her forever to find this smith. Where could she possibly find another one?
"Wait a second," Siena mumbled to herself, pulling the folded up map from her hip pack that Haskill had given her. She recalled him saying that New Sheoth was split into two districts; according to the map, the other district, 'Bliss', was north of Crucible. Based on the sun position, Siena guessed north to be through that disgustingly decorated door she'd seen earlier, which was conveniently located on her left further up the stairs.
As she made her way to the door, it dawned on her that the sun may be entirely different in this realm, and could set in the east and rise in the west. Or rise and set on the north/south axis. Or even rise in the southeast and set in the northeast. She paused at the dais, contemplating.
You know what, forget it! I don't give a damn anymore. Might as well try the door anyways. Siena concluded, marching up the steps and throwing open the doors.
Siena's mouth hung open for a moment as she took in the sheer color of the place. The rocks in front of her as she stood in the door were a brighter green than those in Crucible, and sprouting from them were grey-stemmed fungi that bent and curved but still stood well above her head, fanning out into aqua blue cups the size of large bowls. The only grey in the area was the stone steps on her sides and straight ahead, and the foundations of the buildings. Even the ground, while cobbled with grey stones, had color as peach-orange dirt surrounded every stone.
While the intensity of sunlight had not changed, the scenery around her had become brighter due to the drastic change in colors from Crucible to what she felt must certainly be Bliss. Maybe there is actually, truly, something nice in this realm! It was quite likely that, had she encountered the lands of Mania first, she would not have been this uplifted by the environment. But after Dementia and Crucible's eternal dreariness, she was elated to find some cheer in the realm.
"Speak, citizen, or go away," an abrupt, stern voice spoke from her right, startling Siena. She whirled to face it, only to gulp. She was staring directly into unnatural eyes that had golden, feline irises and black where there should have been white.
The woman who spoke was as golden as her eyes, from skin to armor to weaponry, and glimmered in the sunlight. She was dressed as scantly as the Mazken, but her armor was distinctly different. It had a more avian theme, with the skirt wrapping around her hips like wings. Her helmet also had wings sprouting up from the ears with an almost beak-like forehead guard, and her shoulder plates were elegant teardrop shaped plates of gold. The overall affect was far more dazzling than the Mazken's black shell armor, and notably more elegantly decorated.
When she had taken in the strange woman's appearance, and realized the golden girl was scowling at her, it finally dawned on the Hlaalu mercenary just what she was speaking with. While Siena had nothing to compare the Mazken with, this golden figure before her was almost the spitting image of the dreaded Daedric servants of Sheogorath.
"A Golden Saint…" She gasped, one hand moving slowly towards her belt. She had always heard they were ruthless, fierce warriors, resistant to most magic and weaponry and zealous in the pursuit of their enemies.
"Yes, that is what mortals call us," the Golden Saint responded, still scowling. Her voice was like the Mazken's; echoing with every word spoken. However, while the Mazken had a softer, whispery tone to their voices, the Golden Saint's voice was strong and loud. "But we call ourselves the Aureal, and we are Sheogorath's favored soldiers, the most perfect expression of his might."
"Um, okay, sure," Siena nodded, noting how the Aureal was much more prideful than the Mazken when describing her relation to Sheogorath. "So this is Bliss?"
"Yes, and we Aureal guard Bliss, the Manic district of the city. We are also tasked with defending Mania from the lesser beings that would seek to destroy it." As she said this, the Aureal narrowed her eyes at Siena accusingly. "Now be gone, mortal. I haven't time for your idle chatter."
"Okay… um, thanks, I'll keep that in mind." Deciding she didn't want to risk angering the Daedra further, Siena headed for the staircase directly in front of the Golden Saint, ignoring the one on her right. In her mind, she concluded that of the two, she liked the Mazken far more than the Aureal. At least the Mazken put up with a mortal's presence.
She wasn't really paying much attention to where she was headed; not like she had directions anyways. She just kept walking forward, past purple umbrella-topped mushrooms and luminescent bulbous orange flora, admiring the architecture. It wasn't too dissimilar from Crucible, still sporting arches and columns, but these were less intricate and moody compared to the Crucible masonry, with simple rounded arches and squared columns. Some of the doors were of similar jade-colored design to those in Crucible, but were far cleaner. Everything just seemed to be cheerier, cleaner, and less complex in design.
She was finally forced to turn left because the stairs turned that way, and found herself entering a plaza. Directly across from her, she felt the eyes of the Aureal standing guard beside an unhitched cart. Behind the Golden Saint was a small courtyard with a majestic fountain in the middle, water cascading from sea shells between and over half woman, half fish figures that she recognized as mermaids from the Cyrodiilic lore she had studied briefly before her ill-fated trip. Elegant oval signs, held to the sides of the buildings by swirling rods of metal, indicated the shops around her. To her right, 'The Choosy Beggar'; this sounded like an inn to her. Beside the unhitched cart and unpleasant Aureal, an arch-bordered patio led to another shop whose sign she couldn't read. And to Siena's left, stone steps led up to a wooden door with a sign reading 'The Missing Pauldron'.
"If that isn't a blacksmith shop, call me a Grummite," Siena muttered, heading straight for the door.
When she entered, Siena found herself in a room that reminded her of the chapels built on mainland Morrowind, dedicated to the Imperial cult's Nine Divines. Rainbows of light shined through mosaic stained glass upon a large forge facing away from Siena, and a staircase on her right led to a lower room. There was a table next to the forge with an assortment of light armor and weapons, and Siena moved around the forge to check if the blacksmith was on the other side. The anvil stood unused, however, and Siena frowned.
The ring of hammer meeting metal broke the silence of the empty smithy, and Siena turned, noticing there was a room behind and below the table. Stone buttresses spanned the gap in the floor to the wall, and as she approached she could see an Orc below, clad in the traditional apron of a blacksmith and shaping a piece of metal. Confused as to why he would have two forges, Siena shook her head and proceeded down the staircase.
At the base of the steps was an assortment of crates, a bookcase, and a desk, and beyond that the second forge. As Siena walked towards the blacksmith, however, something else caught her attention before she caught his. It was a suit of orange armor on display in an alcove, colored like the amber she had found in the Grummite encampment. It was beautiful, gleaming softly in the firelight of the forge, and reminded her of the Cyrodiilic designs of the glass armor made from the volcanic glass of Red Mountain. Cyrodiilic designs tended to resemble stained glass windows, and this armor was not much different in that respect. There was a second suit of the armor in another alcove on the other side of large wooden double doors.
"Hi there, Sparkles," said an Argonian behind her, and Siena turned to set glaring eyes on the lizard.
"Are you the blacksmith?" She asked coldly.
"No."
"Do you craft this armor?" She continued with her voice still steady.
"No." The Argonian repeated, looking confused.
"Then I have no dealings with you, and I will not put up with nicknames. Call me 'Sparkles' again, and I'll break your tail." Siena snapped, shoving past the now worried Argonian to get the attention of the Orc.
"Umm… See ya." The Argonian replied, heading out of the smithy rather swiftly. Siena ignored his exit.
"Excuse me, sir!" Siena raised her voice over the sound of metal being shaped by the blacksmith, catching his attention. He looked up, smiled toothily, and set aside the strip to let it cool.
"Hello! I'm Dumag gro-Bonk." The Orc announced before running a hand over his bare crown, then running his fingers through the braids of the hair on the back of his head. "Best and prettiest smith in town," he added proudly. Siena raised an eyebrow before pointing at the orange glass armor.
"What's that made of?" She inquired abruptly.
"Ah, the amber armor," sighed Dumag, a girlish grin on his face. "Amber is a resin found in root system tunnels and on Gnarls." Whatever a Gnarl is, Siena thought. "When treated properly, it is especially suited to lightweight weapons and armor." Lightweight armor… that's exactly what I need!
"I know the secret art of forging Amber." Dumag proclaimed like a haughty little girl, holding a hand to his chest proudly. "If you're interested, I can give you a list of what I need. I can even craft you magical items."
"I am quite interested, actually." Siena responded with remarkable composure, since she was about ready to laugh at the Orc's antics. For now, she contented herself with a raised, amused eyebrow.
"Alrighty then!" Dumag exclaimed and led her over to the desk and opened a scroll box, pulling out a piece of parchment. "Here's the list." Siena looked it over, more interested in the armor than the weapons; she had Cutter for the weapons. Folding up the paper, she put it in the pack and began to rummage through it for the Amber she had recently placed there.
"So what about these magical items? Do you need matrices like Cutter?" Siena asked, still rummaging for the pieces of Amber as the Orc fell silent. It took a minute, but then she realized there were sniffling sounds coming from across the desk. She looked up, perplexed, to see Dumag sitting in the chair with tears in his eyes.
"You think I'm ugly, don't you?" Dumag sobbed, covering his face in his hands. "And that she's a prettier smith? Is that it?" He bawled, and Siena stood there, stunned by total confusion. She'd faced eight-eyed trees, frog-goblins, and undead monstrosities, all unexpected but manageable; well sort of. But how do you deal with a crying Orc? Siena wasn't even aware they could cry.
"Oh, Dumag, no, it's not that." Siena tried to reassure him, moving across the desk and reaching out to touch his shaking shoulder. Immediately Dumag shrugged her off, folding his arms over his chest and emitting a 'humph'.
"I am the Master Smith of New Sheoth. Why bother with that other smith?" Dumag snapped at her, and Siena sighed. Do I really have to deal with this just to get some decent gloves?
"Dumag, listen." Siena grabbed at his shoulders roughly. "I went to Cutter because I found her first. And it took me forever to find her shop, let alone yours. And you know what, hers was useless to me!" Siena proclaimed, releasing his shoulders and throwing up her arms. "She had sharp weapons, sure, but I needed some armor, light and flexible, and all she had was this chunky iron crap!" Dumag was smiling a little now, though still weepy.
"And I don't like her much," Siena added, leaning against the crates nearby. "She's… creepy." Siena shuddered. "I like you better, Dumag… well, until you got all weepy." That was true. Until Dumag had started crying, he had been a much nicer smith in her opinion, rather amiable.
"So, are you going to stop crying and make me some gauntlets, Dumag gro-Bonk?" Siena asked, opening her hip pack again to fish out the amber. She finally found two sizable chunks and set them on the table. "I believe this should be enough, based on your list." And if I want more Amber armor, that'll need more Amber. I might need to invest in a bigger pack. Dumag nodded his head, braids bobbing, and looked at the Amber pieces on the table.
"Yes, you do need some gauntlets don't you?" Dumag smiled. "A lady may be a killer, but she shouldn't ruin her manicure by chipping a nail. Let's get your measurements and I'll get to work." Siena snickered, catching herself and stopping a full laugh from escaping. She could scarcely believe the words he'd just spoken; they were so out of place from an Orc. Nevertheless, she held out her arms as the Orc produced measuring string and proceeded to take the dimension of her wrists, hands, and forearm, muttering each measure as he went about it. He began to bend her wrists up and down and roll them, watching their motion intently. It made Siena feel a little uneasy.
"Oh dear, what happened here sweetheart?" Dumag asked as he finished her left hand, looking at her shoulder. Siena frowned at the nickname and was about to say something when he plucked at the chainmail, revealing the hole in the shoulder links. "It looks like you chipped a few rings."
Siena had completely forgotten about that wound from an arrow strike back in the Gardens of Flesh and Bone. It seemed like so long ago in memory, when it was a day, maybe two, in the past. Compared to her leg wound in the caves, her shoulder had been a minor grievance that she let heal on its own.
"Oh, yeah, an arrow got me there a while ago." Siena admitted. "Could you fix that, while you're at it?"
"But of course dear!" Dumag laughed, stepping back. "Go ahead, take it off and I'll make it look gooood aas new."
"Uh… You want me to take it off? Now," Siena asked with hesitation.
"Of course. I can't very well fix it while it's on you." Dumag scoffed, batting a hand at her weakly.
"But I don't have a shirt or anything under it," replied Siena, frowning. Dumag responded with an 'oh', before thinking and then finally motioning her to follow. He led her through the double doors between the Amber armors, down a hall into what looked like his room. It was lightly decorated with a stone wardrobe, stone table and chairs, and a bed with crimson sheets that had stone head and foot boards. Siena noticed the bed was not actually raised above the floor, and the ends of the footboard were carved animal legs. The table and chairs had similar leg carvings.
Dumag went to the wardrobe and opened it to reveal a bundle of hanging clothing, from which he pulled out a particular piece.
"I bought this for myself a while back, but I am terrible at tailoring cloth and could never get it to fit. You can have it." Dumag told her, holding out the sky blue dress. Siena took it, one eyebrow crooked in what was soon going to become a perpetually perplexed expression. When the Orc didn't leave the room, Siena frowned.
"Do you mind? I would like some privacy."
"Oh, okay dear, just bring out the chainmail when you're done," Dumag backed out of the room, and Siena followed him into the hall, watching him close the doors before looking at the dress again.
It was designed like the ones she'd seen on other women in the Isles, like Relmyna and Bernice, but this one had less frills and was less puffed at the skirt. It looked like it would hug her figure better than those dresses; if the Orc hadn't ruined it of course. There were a few notably sections of resewing here and there, but it was otherwise intact. Siena set it down on the bed, getting to work on undoing the belt and pulling off the cuirass.
Leaving her boots and pants on, she proceeded to get the dress over her head, only to have it fall swiftly over her body and slip off one shoulder. Dammit, what size is this thing? Siena frowned, pulling it back over her shoulder. She began to tie the under bust tighter, hoping it might hold the dress to her better, and it did, though the shoulders remained a problem. Siena looked down, noticing how low cut the v-neck was; she was practically showing her bosom off, but at least it covered the important bits. It'll have to do. She reasoned, refastening her belt and walking out of Dumag's room with cuirass over her sleeved arm.
"Oh, you look lovely!" Dumag exclaimed, a wide smile on his green face. Siena smirked back just to please him, handing over the cuirass. "I'll have everything done by nightfall, sweetheart. Why don't you go shopping," he suggested as he took the cuirass from her.
"Yeah… perhaps I'll do that." Siena replied.