04-13-2016, 02:19 PM
Dressed in his finery, Manix looked like what he was, A Fisherman from a wealthy family. His order was finally ready. The flask that took week to design, the design that was handed over to a silversmith. A Silversmith, paid enough money, and allowed enough artisan freedom of ornamentation would ask no questions, they would love the art.
The Design was the work of weeks hunched over a little table in his hidden home. A flask, holding slightly over a pint of liquid, had a slight curve to it allowing ti to fit comfortably on the hip. Re-enforced belt straps will ensure that it will not be ripped off his belt. Silver was not necessary, nor is the ornamentation, but to get what you want, you have to indulge those those are willing to make it. The genius was in the lid. A flat top roughly 5" x 2", was set on 4 pins with springs. With a pin in each corner the lid could be pressed down and when the hand and when the hand was removed the lid would seal itself back into place. The silversmith added to the lid design, small drain holes with splash pans underneath to prevent splash-back and spillage, even if inverted upside down.
(Shop Interior) "G'day sir Smith, does me order be ready?"
Manix talked so little his deep Irish brogue surprised himself. The Silversmith donned his fake upper middle class customer smile. "Yes sir.........."
Manix never gave name, just a huge deposit, and yet the Silversmith continues to try. "It is ready, just moment."
Returning from the back room, the Smith carried a work of art. With the the surname "Lir" in bold, ornate letters, was visions of the seas. Taking the flask, Manix filled it with a sturdy bottle of sea water from his home. Slowly and carefully he checked for leaks, even upside down it never leaked. The Smith looked insulted, of course he tested it to perfection, but Manix only trusted what he could see and feel.
*smiles* sliding a think envelopes of marks over, he tipped his hat to the Smith. "Amazing work my going man, just amazing. G'day sir Smith."
. The Smith waves absent mined now he has his reward for his work as Manix leaves. Outside he attaches the flask to his belt. Slipping his hand into the water of his home he is overwhelmed. Something takes over! Treads of brown and red form and encases his flask and hand. He is not in control, he can not stop it, he cant even breath. The flask glows red, then white, yet does not burn. As fast as it started it ends, Manix quickly removes his hand, not a drop is spilled. Manix sat, or rather fell down onto edge of a fountain. Exhausted from the ordeal, thoughts now enters his head of who could of seen.
Looking at the flask, it looked plain, made of leather. Surprised he touched it, upon his touch it turned back into the work of art, yet different. The seas came alive, the waves flowed upon the sea's. Larger than life where the surname was was the image of the ancient God, Manannan Mac Lir. Awed and humbled, he knew then that the God himself had a hand in what just happened. Sitting on that edge he thought of what that meant.
The Design was the work of weeks hunched over a little table in his hidden home. A flask, holding slightly over a pint of liquid, had a slight curve to it allowing ti to fit comfortably on the hip. Re-enforced belt straps will ensure that it will not be ripped off his belt. Silver was not necessary, nor is the ornamentation, but to get what you want, you have to indulge those those are willing to make it. The genius was in the lid. A flat top roughly 5" x 2", was set on 4 pins with springs. With a pin in each corner the lid could be pressed down and when the hand and when the hand was removed the lid would seal itself back into place. The silversmith added to the lid design, small drain holes with splash pans underneath to prevent splash-back and spillage, even if inverted upside down.
(Shop Interior) "G'day sir Smith, does me order be ready?"
Manix talked so little his deep Irish brogue surprised himself. The Silversmith donned his fake upper middle class customer smile. "Yes sir.........."
Manix never gave name, just a huge deposit, and yet the Silversmith continues to try. "It is ready, just moment."
Returning from the back room, the Smith carried a work of art. With the the surname "Lir" in bold, ornate letters, was visions of the seas. Taking the flask, Manix filled it with a sturdy bottle of sea water from his home. Slowly and carefully he checked for leaks, even upside down it never leaked. The Smith looked insulted, of course he tested it to perfection, but Manix only trusted what he could see and feel.
*smiles* sliding a think envelopes of marks over, he tipped his hat to the Smith. "Amazing work my going man, just amazing. G'day sir Smith."
. The Smith waves absent mined now he has his reward for his work as Manix leaves. Outside he attaches the flask to his belt. Slipping his hand into the water of his home he is overwhelmed. Something takes over! Treads of brown and red form and encases his flask and hand. He is not in control, he can not stop it, he cant even breath. The flask glows red, then white, yet does not burn. As fast as it started it ends, Manix quickly removes his hand, not a drop is spilled. Manix sat, or rather fell down onto edge of a fountain. Exhausted from the ordeal, thoughts now enters his head of who could of seen.
Looking at the flask, it looked plain, made of leather. Surprised he touched it, upon his touch it turned back into the work of art, yet different. The seas came alive, the waves flowed upon the sea's. Larger than life where the surname was was the image of the ancient God, Manannan Mac Lir. Awed and humbled, he knew then that the God himself had a hand in what just happened. Sitting on that edge he thought of what that meant.