Zaak nodded at Lesa's words, but remained a few moments more. He did note care to wait for a response from Sweeney (and assuming it would be in the affirmative anyway) and turned once more to leave. Once more in the doorframe, he turned around and spat back the comment, "They will not wait until we finish our discussion to attack, friends. I would suggest you put aside your differences just while we muster for the upcoming battle, as it draws upon us faster than we can tell. I will take my leave, and whether or not you postpone your inquisitions I hope you will be ready when the time comes."
Looking to Jason, he said, "You may accompany me shortly, if you would like. No doubt extra hands would help equip us for the upcoming fight. Small cells would greatly benefit from magically enhanced armor and weaponry. Either way, be there when Lesa comes; she did ask for the both of us." Turning around again, he jogged to the workshop.
When he arrived, five of the wraiths were there. The table was still clear, bar one large mound of the black material. He walked around the table once or twice, re-examining the pile, before getting to work. As his attendants prepared the room's bountiful equipment for smelting, he began lacing spell after spell through the material. His intricate hand motions and vocal inflections bound the winds to his will, and a chill breeze of pure magic picked up in the room. Taking on Zaak's signature violet luster, the material shimmered and shook. It was ascertainable as of yet what Zaak was supposed to be doing, as his enchantments seemed to be all out of order and random. He was, however, a masterful smith despite his insanity, and he knew exactly what he was doing.
Suddenly, with a forceful gesture, the pile hurtled from the table into one of the just-prepared smelters. As it began to smoke, he changed the tone of his incantation. The glass-like material warped and melted, taking on a liquid form. Calling over a wraith with two fingers, he commanded the phantom to hold the material still. It magically pulled it into the air, keeping it liquid, spherical and static. Chanting all the while, Zaak accessed it piece by piece, heated it with the winds of Chamon and Aqshy in tandem, and hammered it out on an anvil into vague armor-like shapes. Not yet caring for the intricacies as they would be dealt with later, he used all of the molten material and formed it into a full suit of armor, including gauntlets and a helmet.
With intrigue, he noticed how well it took to being soft and malleable. Inspired, his magic took a different angle. He infused it with many, many properties in this rough unshaped form, more than he would normally dare. As it became saturated in magic, it began to warp, growing out of shape. With a quipping stanza of the elongated spell, he bound it tight once more. Then, with a lilting refrain, he laced an intricate network of magic throughout the armor. It began to warp and wiggle, almost gelatin-like. He marveled at how much magic this material could absorb, and laughed with glee. As he worked, the Coven of wraiths gathered and supplied their own wealth of magical energies to speed the enchantment along. Crackles of violet lightning ricocheted from the armor to the walls and floor, enunciating Zaak's incantation.
As he crescendoed, the armor gave completely under the manipulation of the spell. Collapsing into a pool, it seeped towards the edge of the table. Undeterred, Zaak made a sweeping gesture with his hand and the spreading film of liquid swashed up from the table. Once more shaping it into a hollow, vaguely humanoid form, he allowed it to retain its liquidity as he neared the climax of the incantation. Now speaking words of power so strong they burned his tongue, lips and the air before them, the liquid armor seemed to coalesce into a sturdier form. As he uttered the penultimate syllables, ripples criss-crossed the surface like a lake in a rainstorm.
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The final vowel sound flew from his mouth and plummeted into the ersatz breastplate, causing the greatest ripple yet to fly across the surface of the armor and a shockwave to blast through the entire room. Sent flying back against the wall, Zaak's ears did not hear the punctual clatter of the armor falling, but rather a splashing sound. Staring at his creation, he laughed as he saw the puddle spreading across the floor. It did indeed appear to be a failure, but appearances were not everything. Extending one arm, a spike suddenly stabbed up from the center of the pool. Arcing towards his outstretched hand, the semi-liquid armor slicked upwards from the ground and smoothly coated his body. As Zaak's erratic mind flicked between many ideas for motifs, the armor similarly warped. As eventually it formed into a more recognizable shape, Zaak decided the smooth effect would suit best. With a sharp command within his mind, the armor fused solid. Staring at his blank, rounded, colorless armor, he nodded.
He needed to test it out. Twisting his mind, the armor reacted to his will. He withdrew the arm-plates and gauntlets into the breastplate, only to have them erupt again as a pair of new arms. Retracting these also, he manipulated it again, and a huge axe protruded from his torso. Grasping it in both hands, he swung it around, watching its magically rich wake leave visible traces in the air. He contorted the axe into a sword, then a dagger, then once more into arm and hand protection.
Another thought occurred to him. He did not know how much more magic the armor could hold, but it seemed to have a boundless reservoir. Enchanting it once again, he bound it to his mind and his mind only. In that same act, he anchored the magic to his mind so that it could not meet the same untimely demise as his last suit.
Contented with it, he awaited the arrival of someone who could help him test it out properly.