It started as an off hand comment that turned into a whole ordeal. At first, Lewis was disinterested in finding this ‘workshop’ on the Observatory’s grounds, but as he gleaned more information about it, he suddenly had a burning desire to visit. Odd machinations? Magical weapons? Was Lord Raith holding out on the blossoming assassin?

If this workshop was as fantastical as it was rumored to be, Lewis could be in for a whole slew of new weapons and tools for the trade. And best of all, he might be able to leverage his connections with Lord Raith in order to jump the line for any commissions.

And so Lewis found himself standing outside of the workshop. What was waiting for him? He started to just waltz in but paused. Just walking in was something that was considered rude, right? Should he knock? Was that the acceptable protocol here? The assassin crossed his arms. He was Lord Raith’s apprentice…didn’t that give him the right?

But he also needed the owner to like him. That meant respecting boundaries. So knock.

“Right…social boundaries,” he muttered, rapping his fist against the door.

As soon as Lewis' hand touched the door, something peculiar has happened. The doorknob has suddenly split in two and a dark, slim tendril ending with an glowing, pale green orb slithered out of it. It floated up to Lewis' face, seemingly observing or scanning him. After few seconds it slithered back from whence it came and doorknob close back up behind it……..and then, said doorknob retracted into the door, leaving behind it a hole. As soon as that happened the door opened to reveal a wall made from polished steel. Said wall then suddenly and with a hiss, split in two and slid open, revealing a corridor that led into an spiral staircase.

As Lewis begun descending down them he could notice few interesting things. First of all, smell. Further down he went, he could feel his nose being assaulted by heavy scent of burning incense. Then he started noticing that wall were being doted with seals of wax, with bits of parchment or paper attached to them. There was something written on the paper but it was in an launguage that Lewis didn't know. More he descended heavier the scent would become, more strange seals and parchment would appear on the walls untill young assasin finally reached the bottom, there he was met with the Workshop and it's master.

Workshop was an massive cylindrical stone chamber, it's ceiling, walls and floor made from bare stone brick. Along the floor run strange metal tubes and tendrils that seemed to connect the plethora of strange machines and constructs, that could be found lying about. Incense burners hanged from chains attached to the ceiling and arms made entirely from steel would, seemingly on their own, move along the system of metal rails in an frenzy. Moving books, from numerous shelves that lined the walls and tools for seemingly no reason. Walls themselves were decorated with those strange wax seasls, but also crimson red banners upon which lay an strange symbol. A cog wheel with an skull inside it. Skull being split in half between an normal version and one made from metal, pipes and other artificial components. The greatest of these banners hanged above a throne carved from stone, that sat at the frathest end of the workshop. Said banner was different for upon it an different emblem was laid. A massive two headed dragon, with four arms and four wings standing upright inside an cogwheel that was split in two, between a normal cog and one seemingly made from rays of starlight. One head was organic and it's eyes were covered up by an blindfold, the other was made from steel. One pair of wings had an membrane that gliterred with stars while the other set, one made from machines, had canvas replacing it leathery counterparts. In one pair of arms the dragon held an sword and a star in the other, a book and a cogwheel.

The furnace and the forge burned brightly in the right most part of the workshop. Seemingly constantly was being made there as molten steel would be poured into molds and then hammered into shapes by metalic hands and arms. An drawing table, not far from the roaring forge, was covered up entirely by an mass of diagrams, blueprints and schematics, many of which would be plastered up upon the wall above the table. Said papers would have upon them drawings of many things from strange and esotheric inventions whose shape was compltely alien to Lewis, to swords and armor and more mundane designs…but with strange twists like a crossbow with crank and a box filled with bolts, or plate mail with an system of pulleys attached to an exoskelton build around said armor. In the same part of the chamber and incredibily well developed and equipped alchemical laboratory could be spotted, where strange concotions would be brew and bubble.

However the most important part of the Workshop was seemingly in the middle of it. An massive stone slab table around which many ceiling mounted arms moved about, proding and touching whatever it was laid upon the table beneath great white tarp. Next to the table stoo the owner of the Workshop. Wearing black robes with red triming, having two additional arms made from steel extending themselves from an metalic backpack that was hung upon it's back. It's face, a skull of some sort of lizard, eyes replaced with metalic cylinders that were placed into their sockets that glew with an pale green light.

Coming into all of this, Lewis had no expectations. From the moment that the door handle retracted, and the weird green eye….thing… examined him, Lewis set his expectations even lower. Whatever workshop this was, it had better be worth his time. He started his descent, ignoring the growing sickly smells of incense wafting from below. It was about halfway down when his eye started to water from the intensity, and he almost turned back for fear of destroying one of his vital senses. Still, he pressed on, less from curiosity and more for sheer determination.

What kind of assassin would turn away at something so minuscule. I’d be a fool to not train myself against such tactics. The walls were littered with what Lewis assumed were different types of runes scribbled on random papers, but he had never been ones for magical study, preferring his blade over a spell.

Finally, he reached the bottom. The first thing he noted was that, for better or for worse, the only visible exit was the entrance. In an emergency, he knew he could leap up the stairs, but he wondered what the master of the workshop were capable of. If it came down to it, would Lewis be able to kill them?

Lord Raith trusts them, though…]/i] From a logical standpoint, it made the assassin feel better.

He took in the variety of sights around him, the oddities and intricate symbols and seals about the place more or less being overlooked. The personal furnace that was available seemed useful, as well as the few blueprints that he did understand seemed…interesting, to say the least. So far, though, Lewis wasn’t ‘impressed’ like a normal person would be. Instead, his dead hazel eyes focused on the center of the room. He made little attempt to show himself as ‘normal’ and instead embraced the lifeless look that he had come to realize was his actual personality.

“I take it you’re the…” He paused. What was the word for someone who was the master of their own workshop. Did Lord Raith bestow a title of some kind? Did it even matter? “Creator of all these…devices?” Lewis glanced around once more. So far, nothing seemed to catch his eye.

“My name is Lewis,” the assassin stated finally. “Protege of Lord Raith, and assassin by trade. I heard of a…strange workshop that Lord Raith allowed here, and…here I am to explore.”