I was in the middle of designing when...

The quiet squeak of wheels heralds the entrance of Caifan n'Lochli from the out.

design 11795 appearance a dapper Geomancer’s slate grey suit
You sketch out how your proposed item will appear to a casual observer.

Caifan n'Lochli wrinkles his nose and sniffs.

Rattusk titters and preens his whiskers with his forepaws.

Caifan n'Lochli says, "You are..."

Caifan n'Lochli raises an eyebrow at you.

Caifan n'Lochli ponders you thoughtfully, looking you up and down.

Caifan n'Lochli says, "The d'Murani tailor, yes?"

Caifan n'Lochli says, "Ye with the designs that do not shame the city so much as
those around you."

In a high pitched squeak, craning his muzzle back to peer up, you say to Caifan
n'Lochli, "Yes! The bespoke tailor!"

You have emoted: Rattusk proudly preens his whiskers.

Caifan n'Lochli flashes a charming smile that never touches his eyes.

Caifan n'Lochli says, "Splendid, splendid. I have need of your skills,
d'Murani."

Rattusk raises himself up to his full diminutive height.

In a squeak, you say to Caifan n'Lochli, "How may I serve the Engine!"

Caifan n'Lochli examines his fingernails critically, canting his head to the
side slightly.

You tell Conductor Kanaya d'Murani Discordant Chord, "Yes I can! Caifan n'Lochli
is speaking to me!"

Lazily, Caifan n'Lochli says, "You may or may not know of me, but I serve the
Engine's interests along the highway to the south."

l caifan
Regarding his surroundings with a keen eye, Caifan n'Lochli is the perfect image
of an ideal host. Straight-backed despite his condition, the viscanti's bearing
is one of both propriety and nobility; his lavender skin is without blemish or
mark, and his piercing dark eyes observe every action, glittering with some
private amusement. Opulent scarlet velvet upholstery adorns the comfortable
darkwood chair in which he resides, wing-backed and inlaid with curling golden
patterns about the head and armrests. Spoked, polished wooden wheels provide
motion to the chair, against which his long fingers occasionally tap. He wears
an elegantly-cut, form-fitting sable vest over a crisp white linen shirt, while
the lower part of his ensemble is obscured by a carmine blanket, leaving only
highly-polished black boots visible.
Caifan n'Lochli is quite powerful.

A wry smile spreads across Caifan n'Lochli's face.

You have emoted: Rattusk red-veined pink ears perk up in Caifan's direction.

Waving a hand airily, Caifan n'Lochli says, "Simple dishes, testament to our
city's prowess in all things."

Caifan n'Lochli says, "However."

Caifan n'Lochli says, "That fool of an errand boy delivered a particularly
recalcitrant...ingredient."

Caifan n'Lochli narrows his eyes to thin slits.

Caifan n'Lochli says, "Needless to say, my usual accouterments were not up to the
task."

Rattusk's muzzle nods eagerly, his whiskers quivering in
interest, hanging on every word.

Caifan n'Lochli lifts a corner of his opulent lap blanket. Where not previously
visible, dark, crusted brown stains are visible - those of long-dried blood and
vitreous fluid.

In a high-pitched tone, you say to Caifan n'Lochli, "And you wish the recovery
of this ingredient?"

Caifan n'Lochli says, "I deal with only the finest artisans, as one to another."

Frowning, Caifan n'Lochli says, "No. I require a new blanket."

Rattusk sniffs at the blanket, his black nose twitching.

Caifan n'Lochli says, "I would not come to one of your not inconsiderable renown
if it were meant for mere hunting."

Rattusk bows low to the ground, which is quite low indeed, his
whiskers brushing the cobblestones.

In a squeak, you say to Caifan n'Lochli, "It would be an honor. Would your
Lordship please follow me to the tailoring workshop?"

Caifan n'Lochli sniffs, wheeling about with a practiced, easy motion and
gesturing to the doorway.

Caifan n'Lochli says, "After you."

Caifan n'Lochli begins to follow you.

Rattusk toddles off, paws frantically flipping through sketches
and a notebook as he searches for the right one.

:to the Nightsoigne workshop:

Rattusk frantically peels through a notebook, an eager glimmer
in his crimson eye.

l
The Nightsoigne workshop.
The floor of this spacious workshop is cluttered with scraps of cloth, bits of
leather, and dangerous stray needles. Large fixtures hanging from the ceiling
hold candles that burn brightly, casting even illumination through the shop.
Several tables are stationed around the tool bench, each with different garments
at different stages of completion. On a table along one wall, countless samples
of cloth have been bound together in a large volume. Next to it sits a book with
sketches of many of the generic clothing patterns, as well as a few the
Nightsoigne Trademaster designed. Several finished garments hang from a large
metal bar across one side of the room, distinguished by small paper notes tied
to each. Prominently in this tailoring workshop rests a bench that holds an
assortment of tools for sewing, haberdashery and cobbling. A sigil in the shape
of a small, rectangular monolith is on the ground. Lips pursed in irritation,
Caifan n'Lochli is here, seated in a richly-upholstered wheeled chair.

In a squeak, you say to Caifan n'Lochli, "Only the finest! Does this blanket
need to be elegant...or repulsive to stains?"

tailoring accessories blanket
*******************************************************************************

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
1076 Public a large wool tartan picnic blanket
2539 Public a plush red blanket
2570 Public a drab gray blanket
3930 Public a baby blanket of bright colours
5310 Public a silken dreamscape blanket
7270 Public a celestial baby blanket
9177 Public a soft, pale blue lamb's wool blanket
878 Nightsoigne a midnight hued blanket
3162 Nightsoigne an amaranth embroidered blanket
1701 Catsskein a woollen blanket of gold and scarlet
6714 Onyxtail a large blue and white flannel blanket
9367 RCT a floral-patterned picnic blanket
*******************************************************************************
Total: 12


Caifan n'Lochli blinks incredulously at you.

Caifan n'Lochli says, "Why, both, of course. One without the other is of no use
to me."

Rattusk nods his white muzzle up and down.

Comprehension flashes across your face.

tailoring accessories 3162
You carefully study a tailoring pattern.
Item: Blanket Type: Accessories Org: Nightsoigne
Commodities: cloth 35 silk 9 goldtint 3 redtint 3
Mortal Reviews: Allowed
Layer: ACCESSORY Bodyparts: back
IMPORTANT: The main noun MUST use one of these: BLANKET
Appearance:
an amaranth embroidered blanket
Dropped:
A beautiful blanket embroidered with amaranths lies on the ground here.
Examined:
Soft cloth, dyed a deep red, makes up most of this large blanket. Black
silk lines the back of the blanket and wraps over the outer rim to keep
the cloth from fraying over time. Embroidered in various hues of gold is
a large amaranth. The petals have been tainted with vibrant red
embroidery, depicting freshly drawn blood that drips from the petal
tips.
Comments:

The tip of his fat tail waving in anticipation, you say to Caifan n'Lochli, "I
have just the thing! I do believe it was designed by the Warlady Nariah! Would
an amaranth embroidered blanket serve? The tint it just so, very close to the
sanguine essence that if there is spillage, it only enhances the colour!"

Forbidden Sohei Sahmiam m'Viraz, Speaker of the Silent echoes, "Boom."

Mystic Yuniko Auralius, Midnight Black Rose shouts, "Boom."

Acolyte Thalkros i'Viani shouts, "Darn, how'd that happen?!"

Caifan n'Lochli nods agreeably, eyes hooded as he contemplates the thought.

Caifan n'Lochli says, "That should work very nicely indeed, I do believe. Very
nicely, yes."

Caifan n'Lochli drums his fingers idly on the armrest of his chair, glancing
about disinterestedly at his surroundings.

His paws waving about in nervousness, you say to Caifan n'Lochli, "I shall
aquire the cloth at once! Please recline here your Lordship!"

You move about quickly and lose Caifan n'Lochli.

Blankly, Caifan n'Lochli says, "As you will, tailor."

Rattusk bows low to the ground and scurries off, his fat tail
trailing behind him.


:Running around the city buying commodities.

(Magnagora): You say, "Oh dear. I need goldtint."

:To Nariah’s manse and the eventual purchase of goldtint:

Gavriel tells you, "I have a few spare. How many do you need?"

You tell Demoniac Gavriel d'Vanecu, of Intrinsic Ire, "Thank you! I have aquired
it! It was for Lord Caifan n'Lochli! He requires a new blanket!"

The Nightsoigne workshop.
Prominently in this tailoring workshop rests a bench that holds an assortment of
tools for sewing, haberdashery and cobbling. A sigil in the shape of a small,
rectangular monolith is on the ground. Lips pursed in irritation, Caifan
n'Lochli is here, seated in a richly-upholstered wheeled chair.
You see a single exit leading south.

You carefully cut, assemble, and stitch together an amaranth embroidered
blanket.

Rattusk presents the blanket to Caifan, displaying the bloody
amaranths to catch the light.

l
The Nightsoigne workshop.
The floor of this spacious workshop is cluttered with scraps of cloth, bits of
leather, and dangerous stray needles. Large fixtures hanging from the ceiling
hold candles that burn brightly, casting even illumination through the shop.
Several tables are stationed around the tool bench, each with different garments
at different stages of completion. On a table along one wall, countless samples
of cloth have been bound together in a large volume. Next to it sits a book with
sketches of many of the generic clothing patterns, as well as a few the
Nightsoigne Trademaster designed. Several finished garments hang from a large
metal bar across one side of the room, distinguished by small paper notes tied
to each. Prominently in this tailoring workshop rests a bench that holds an
assortment of tools for sewing, haberdashery and cobbling. A sigil in the shape
of a small, rectangular monolith is on the ground. Lips pursed in irritation,
Caifan n'Lochli is here, seated in a richly-upholstered wheeled chair.
You see a single exit leading south.

You give an amaranth embroidered blanket to Caifan n'Lochli.

Caifan n'Lochli smiles thinly, reaching out to carefully accept it. His
expression quickly becomes inscrutable as he turns it over in his hands.

In a squeak, you say to Caifan n'Lochli, "I do hope this will serve your
purposes with vigor and aplomb sir!"

Absently, you say, "That reminds me. A scourged angel skin blanked would not be
remiss."

Caifan n'Lochli wrinkles his nose in distaste.

Caifan n'Lochli says, "Not for my work, tailor. Flesh ill-begets flesh."

Tapping his chin with a onyx-nailed finger, you say, "Or a tattooed one."

Rattusk nods his white muzzle up and down.

Drawing himself upright in his chair, Caifan n'Lochli says, "Remove the old
blanket and dispose of it."

Soothingly, you say to Caifan n'Lochli, "Only the finest silks and most delicate
weave for you sir."

You ponder the situation.

l caifan
Regarding his surroundings with a keen eye, Caifan n'Lochli is the perfect image
of an ideal host. Straight-backed despite his condition, the viscanti's bearing
is one of both propriety and nobility; his lavender skin is without blemish or
mark, and his piercing dark eyes observe every action, glittering with some
private amusement. Opulent scarlet velvet upholstery adorns the comfortable
darkwood chair in which he resides, wing-backed and inlaid with curling golden
patterns about the head and armrests. Spoked, polished wooden wheels provide
motion to the chair, against which his long fingers occasionally tap. He wears
an elegantly-cut, form-fitting sable vest over a crisp white linen shirt, while
the lower part of his ensemble is obscured by a carmine blanket embroidered with
a golden, blood-adorned amaranth, leaving only highly-polished black boots
visible.
Caifan n'Lochli is quite powerful.

Rattusk gently removes the blanket with his small paws.

ih
"workbench3918" a tailor's workbench
"monolith sigil270089" a monolith sigil
"caifan86706" Caifan n'Lochli
Number of objects: 3

Caifan n'Lochli quickly replaces it with the freshly-tailored garment, nearly
before you've time to draw back.

Rattusk a pink veined ear flicks a moment.

You cough softly.

Caifan n'Lochli smoothes the blanket carefully across his lap, eyeing the
amaranth design appraisingly before nodding curtly.

Caifan n'Lochli hands you a small pouch of coins, a thin smile once again
quirking at the corners of his mouth.

Rattusk holds the blanket between thumb and forefinger,
reciting a guttural chant, not unlike-boulders grinding, and a thick line of
black smoke begins to emanate from the blanket as it is consumed in fire.

Caifan n'Lochli says, "Fine work on both counts, tailor. Your reputation is not
undeserved."

Caifan n'Lochli's eyes twinkle enchantingly at you.

In a squeak, you say to Caifan n'Lochli, "Oh thank you sir! It was an honor.
More was the honor that you appreciate my devotion!"

Caifan n'Lochli says, "Yes, quite."

Rattusk bows deeply from the waist his cheeks blushing.

Caifan n'Lochli says, "Good eve, d'Murani."

Grunting softly, Caifan n'Lochli wheels his chair about, propelling himself to
the south.

You say, "Good eve, n'Lochli!"

p pouch

This pouch is void of decoration, save the crow-shaped bone toggle that
holds its flap closed. Made of soft, black leather and lined with fur,
this pouch holds a number of items safe and dry.
It weighs 8 ounce(s).
A black pouch of soft leather is holding:
Nothing.
500 gold sovereigns.

Were you just an accessory to murder?

Or... an accessorizer to murder? *rimshot*

That was funny!

Oh come on. If you people keep making crap puns, I'm obsolete. (Good log though)