Honouring Kin

Pladeholder Dwof by Katy Smith

Dro'vir looked down upon the carved marble shackles passed to him by one of his brothers. Pulling his cowl back, he adjusts his small magnifying spectacles to better inspect the fine craftsmanship. All among the guild could see the properties that the stone was able to hold but Dro'vir could see deeper than most. The faint and almost imperceivable glow of the stone indicated that the grooves would be most susceptible to silverinking the runic patterns. Copper or Iron would not do like most other shackles brought in throughout the day. Although tired from being overworked, Dro'vir was adamant that he would respect his kin regardless of the laws they had broken. All dwarves deserve respect, even those that don’t show it to others.

By mixing silver runeink with a small amounts of ancestral ashes harvested from the funerary pyres of honoured soldiers, he darkens its hue to a dull grey. A splash of mercury powder then brings back the glossy finish of the ink. He unfurls his tools once again from his stag leather tool wrap as he has done a thousand times before. An array of miniature hammers, files, scalpels, hooks and chisels all delicately arranged in order of type and length.

With tools in place and ink prepared, The High Scriptrix slowly walks towards him before offering him a tiny octagonal box. Dro'vir reaches out and opens the box in her hands revealing a deep red powder. He wets the smallest of his fingers with his tongue before dabbing it in the fine powder. The High Scriptrix walks slowly away to another of the stations to repeat the process.

Dro'vir moves his hand to his mouth and licks the powder, causing a jolt inside of his mind. His eyes glow with a light yellow hue before rolling into the back of his head. His focus is now solely on his work and will be unwavering until the task is complete.

This is a submission for my first ever Summer Camp in 2024 - I hope you enjoy my writings and I'm looking forward to hearing your feedback!