Shopping went as well as it could have, and Magnus was quite helpful when it came to piling their haul into his arms for him to carry around. He proved himself to be quite the good companion for such a venture, utilizing all parts of his arms to carry around the cloth sacks given to hold the purchased items. He did show some visible discomfort at the purchase of the ichor, however. From his knowledge and experience with anything of a demonic nature (currently limited to the Hellhound battle in Goldenburgh and a few run-ins with mischievous imps), nothing demonic was good to be around. He didn't protest, at least. Ichor on its own probably wouldn't cause too much harm, provided it was handled carefully.<br/><br/>Helping to prepare the forging scene, Magnus carefully emptied the bags and set out the required items, organizing them very neatly on a nearby table. The bags themselves were folded and set aside for later reuse. No sense in tossing out something that could potentially prove useful on the road, after all. With that done, he once again made some changes to his outfit to better prepare for the forging. While there would be much less heat than usual, he still didn't want to risk setting his cloak or sleeves on fire, so they were removed and rolled up. For a bit of added grip for whatever tools they might be using, he pulled on a pair of thick, wide-cuffed leather gloves that happened to be laying around with the tools. After buckling the cuffs, he wiggled his fingers a bit, finding the gloves to be quite comfortable. Worth getting a pair himself, he thought.<br/><br/>Throughout the preparation process, Magnus gave aid with moving the ore around in the prepared water, gently nudging the lumps of ore about with a long-handled, wooden spoon the shop had. It looked more like a boat's oar than any normal stirring tool, and it was likely one repurposed and reshaped for things like this. He certainly didn't want to get his hands in there, especially not if the liquid was acidic. The nature of its treating process made it seem like it was, and Magnus was much more willing to sacrifice the well-being of a hunk of wood than his hands.<br/><br/>Finally, the last step so far came along. Magnus eyed the ichor with a similar concern as the one held when they bought it, but he trusted Sheo's skill, and had faith that a simple vial of liquid wouldn't cause them any great harm. Now came an important decision, the actual modeling of the armour he wanted. After he carefully removed the spoon from the bucket and dried it off to set it back on the tool rack, he started giving some answers. "I'm thinking something of a more medium weight. Not quite full plate, that would be far too heavy, but partial? Gauntlets, pauldrons, a gorget, greaves and cuisses, and a helmet. But for the body, I'm thinking mail under a brigandine. Shouldn't be too heavy, but it would still be pretty good," He answered. The suit in question would be very effective, balancing weight and protection without sacrificing too much mobility. Of course, well-made full plate wouldn't sacrifice much mobility either, but Magnus wasn't quite dextrous and strong enough to go rolling about in a full-body cover. Maybe in the future. For now, his requested suit would do him good and keep him safe once it was made.<br/><br/>Another thing came to mind as well. "Oh, and if there's anything left over, maybe we could make a shield? It doesn't have to be completely metal, just a reinforcement. Depends on what we have left when we're done." Since the suit in question wouldn't be utterly impervious, a shield was still an important part of the entire setup. Better to block a hit than take one, after all. "A heater shield would be fantastic." He could imagine the effectiveness of a shield made of magical metal. A normal shield would only offer negligible defense against a spell or offensive miracle, but something like this could work amazingly, especially if it was enchanted.<br/><br/>-----<br/><br/>Tarkus frowned a little at Vasma's mention of his size. As if he hadn't heard quips about it enough, now his own companion was using it as flak against him. There was nobody worth trusting anymore, obviously. He blew it off, though, and offered an introduction of his own. "Tarkus of clan Icemane. You do not need to worry, I am not planning on breaking anything." His vocal patterns were those of one clearly somewhat new to the region's language, somewhat choppy and unsure-sounding. He was pronouncing things correctly, at least, but his tone was a bit strange.<br/><br/>At first, he took no notice of Verena's circlet, aside from the fact that it was a pretty thing made of a fancy-looking metal. He did admire its craftsmanship, though the exact shade of colour it held was not entirely familiar. Too pale to be the Dvergar's signature metal. He leaned slightly forward to take a closer look, curious.<br/><br/>Elsewhere in town, a group of travelers began an approach to the inn. They all seemed quite unassuming, and made idle chatter amongst each other as they moved through the quiet village. The one leading them, however, wore a concerning piece of jewelry: a brass amulet with an engraced symbol of a tree. Taking care to stuff it into his shirt as they reached the more populous parts of town, he opened the door to the inn and approached the counter.