Mad-science Walta from Frostpunk gets thrown into another world entirely
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Barik vanishes back to the Mountain Spire. He's not risking being a living lightning rod.

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Her assistants are excited, but also increasingly alarmed. Forge-Bound are artists, but not like the Spark; their whole craft is meditation, careful practice, getting everything perfect and then turning that to something no one has ever made before. This is... something else.

Still, they want to see where it goes. They help; one corrects her Lightning sigilwork and volunteers to use it better if she needs more. Several pause their efforts to watch the alloying.

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But around the demand for sand they're looking to get off this wild ride. They've lost track of what's being done why, and it's very impressive but they are backing away.

"Archon! Er, Fatebinder! Can you-?"

(Yes, she said she'd calm down if necessary, but she is not looking like she'd respond well to that.)

(Also, yes, he got them this marvel of a forge, they're all thinking of him as an Archon - their Archon - already. They're too frazzled to remember to keep that in their heads, at the moment.)

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"I'll handle it," he says, in the same calm voice he usually adopts in combat. He surveys his people - spellcasters and Barik, originally, so just Lantry and Eb.

"Lantry! Go send Killsy over here. We might need her unarmored bulk. Eb! You have any magic-draining spells you can use on short notice?"

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"Uh... I can cut her off from being able to do magic with some Atrophy. Or do that stasis trick if that doesn't work, but that will hurt."

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"Good. Stand by."

He closes maybe half the distance.

"Waltana? I think you've done enough for today."

This isn't the voice he would use for calming feral animals. But it is the one he used for angry Beastmen he was trying to ease down from a dominance fight, growing up.

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She hoists a hammer high. "I can see so much like this, the work flows like water! This is what I've been missing my whole life! It's never been so strong! The logic is laid bare!"

She looks around the Spire. The concerned faces and wary looks.

She frowns.

She looks around her work area, and the insanity that has become of it. Parts, pieces, with so much potential, sliding around like a puzzle in her head, weapons and tools and vehicles and WEAPONS-

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She sets the hammer down.

"Right. Did I hurt anyone? My deepest apologies, if so."

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"Not yet. Well, maybe yourself, I saw some burns and scorch marks. But nothing looked serious."

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"I don't feel anything major... Jesus Christ preserve me, I think I need to get out of here, that was- Well, I should clean up my mess first. It's never that strong, I usually remember why I did everything in the moment afterwards, but..."

She frowns at the field of parts. 

"...It's not finished, not by half. And I don't quite know what the key step I'm missing in the central core is anymore."

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"'Never that strong'? Sounds like confirmation that it's magical, then."

"...Maybe someone else can clean up the parts."

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Several steps back, Eb relaxes; she's not going to have to throw spells at the girl, she can tell from her posture. "I think we're clear," she mutters to the gathered smiths.

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She is going to DIE of SHAME.

No, not allowed. She has to face this and fix it like an adult.

" ...If you wish. I'm on guard for it now, whether that will keep me calm I'm not sure. My apologies to you all," she addresses her helpers. "I'll try to make it up to you somehow."

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"There's a spare forge down in the Crossing, if you want to try again while a little less - excited."

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"It was fascinating to see," one of the smiths who was helping say as he returns from the portal cordon, "Though somewhat overwhelming. Personally, I will be more than content if I can borrow some of the alloy pieces and probe at them under heat."

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"Certainly. And I can describe the principles of it- More calmly. I do think some Spark is useful, if kept mindful, and working in here with less energy too will be a wonderful experience."

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"We'll look forward to it! Also, you should explain your method of iron-forging some time. We haven't worked out any way of getting usable iron without magic, yet, and being able to focus on the best pieces would be a great help."

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"Absolutely! Just. Not now. I'm bushed." 

She glances at the mess, and carefully walks over and uses her thick gloves to disconnect something.

Looks over the rest...

"Okay, nothing has live electricity in it anymore. It's all safe to touch. I want to leave now."

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He nods. "Bring the rest to the apprentice forge downstairs when it's gathered," he says to the smiths, and then they will go to the portal and - down.

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This room looks a lot like Ascension Hall except for the ways in which it is completely different. That room is lit, decorated, furnished - people use it. This is a dark room, dark stone and dim light, provided from crystal sconces with pale white light; the brightest light sources are the intense blue-white of the portal itself and the glowing pattern - the same shape of crystals and lines, but different ones lit up - toward one side of the room. (The place where Ascension Hall has a dusty throne is empty.) At the other side is a large, intricately-carved door, slid slightly apart to show that it opens on a similarly-dark, larger room.

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"Welcome to the Oldwalls. It's not far out to the town, we can return later."

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She just takes deep breaths and nods, wondering... What sort of impression she made. It takes a dozen second impressions to change a first.

She will follow.

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The next room is wider, and there's the sound of fast-running water below. "Mind the edges. Long drop."

A bit before they head out the next set of doors, he stops and says.

"You impressed them, you know. Scared them, too, surely. But they'll be talking about it all span."

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"Ooh, running water, watermill here we go-"

"-Ah. I'm glad. But I'm kind of mad at myself for letting it loose like that. It's... Not quite that I'm no longer allowed to have fun, but that's the best way I can put it. Actions have consequences."

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