Ezzi Pounamu - Fey Craftsmanship

The reality of long term projects was that sometimes frustration set in. Sometimes emotions ran high. Sometimes - particularly given the diet of one quasi-familiar-companion something or other, and another kobold who’s nose twitched and fidgeted at the smell of unfamiliar precious gems - temptations arose.

Such was the case with their latest project – a contribution to a piece of work who’s entire existence seemed to be dedicated to the very idea of opulence – starting humble and accumulating, Ezzi Pounamu could only assume given the scope of the job – untold levels of wealth for no readily apparent reason besides displaying it. He was no stranger to wealth – there was barely a limb left on his body that didn’t have a bangle, ring, piercing, or chain made of or set with precious metals dangling from it – but each had a story worth telling in its frame. Its chain. Even its hollow bits that hummed with the wind and drove him wild sometimes. If anything, that one made new stories as time went along. And those were the main reason he coveted them. The more valuable the treasure, the wilder a story it promised to tell.

But opulence for opulence’s sake? It was even stranger than dragons with their hoards underbelly to him (and he’d given such a bed a try once, to his and his back’s unending regret). But, at the very least, pondering on the topic made the work easier to bear, and distracted him from thoughts he knew he shouldn’t act on. Fey were crafty and vengeful, but they were also flighty and absent minded – surely if he pocketed a few gems, or tugged at a few shadow stashes full of them in just the right way... ( in Ezzi’s experience, minding one’s shadow was not a priority for most creatures, and even a few inattentive fey wound up squabbling over who’s stash was who’s already)

But no. These were exactly the sort of clientele one wanted to have in their good graces. And almost as if to confirm the thought, he performed a theatrical bow to a pair of them flitting through the air overhead, only to rise when a telltale cold tingle ran up his spine.

“Hey hey! Careful with the stashes, yeah? Easy getting’ ‘em mixed and tangled up. You really don’t want that.” He’d spread his claws apart again and again. “All this fey magic means more accidents if you’re not careful!”

One of the fairies giggled. Accidents, he’d observed in his time in the court, were a cause for private celebration and mischief as often as they were things to be resolved. He’d actually won a bit of coin betting on just how one fairy would manage to free himself from an alchemical pot mishap the other day.

But, perhaps in light of the fact that accidents were far more fun when they didn’t involve *you*, the pair complied, and as they flitted off, Marumaru sighed a long, mournful, “mollify me, Boss!” sort of sigh. Where Ezzi’s temptations were just rooted in what new treasures he could carve out of this hoard, Maru’s were in how *hungry* they were.

“Gonna get fat from all that amethyst, y’know.”

“I’m already fat. What’s a little more gonna do to me? Besides. You work me hard enough that I’ll burn it off.” For the briefest moment, the pitch black “flames” atop their head burned a visibly crimson red-hot, and their eyes narrowed into irritated little slits.

“Could explain the deal to them, y’know. Not have to sneak off and munch on your little pink rocks in secret”.

“And let them know this is like a tot working in a candy shop? These are *fey*, boss. They’ll make this even more of a hell!”

Ezzi snickered, even as he made his way towards the secluded little grove they’d been using for meals.

“Would be a wager I’d win for sure, though.”

“A *what*? C’mon, boss….!”

“Ain’t like you wouldn’t benefit in the end. Think on it. Might barter for some excess ruby dust or something….”