A Lifes Work

"Hey. Hey Mort. Wanna see something cool?" Tabitha said somewhat animatedly with a twinkle in her eye. Mort knows Tabitha well, so this makes him understandably suspicious.

"I... might... want to see something cool? Will it hurt?" he ventured cautiously

Tabitha laughs, causing Mort to cringe.

"No, no. Nothing like that. You know the elated feeling you get when years of study, planning and work all comes together, and it happens to be at the most opportune moment?" she continued, barely keeping the grin off her face.

"Uhhh no. But I guess it would feel good. Maybe. It won't hurt, right?"

"Oh shut up you big baby. Just watch" she said playfully. Mort cringed more. This isn't Tabitha at all

Ever so gently, Tabitha stretched out her arm. With a look of utmost concentration, she gently shakes her hand. The gauntlet rattles a bit, but soon seems to slop like jelly. A bit more shaking makes it even softer, to the point where it looks like it should lose cohesion all together.

Flicking her hand, a glob of liquid metal hits the ground, still barely attached to the gauntlet with a thin thread. Bringing her hands together, the thread thickens substantially and the glob of metal on the ground grows fast, almost as if she were hosing water from a barrel.

Tabitha mutters something under her breath, and suddenly a dozen metal arms reach out of the pool towards the sky, having an unsettling resemblance to the damned trying to escape hell. Always the taskmaster, Tabitha soon puts them to work instead. The arms reach back down into the goop, and pull up metal plates, poles, screws, screw drivers, hammers, tongs, cables, rivets and vices. With supernatural speed and accuracy, they get to work. The parts go together with practiced ease, clicking into place with precision. Plates slide together, screws are buzzed in and rivets pop into place. Within seconds they are done. Standing there is a metal humanoid, somewhat resembling a weird sort of iron golem. The thread to her gauntlet breaks, the pool of molten metal subsides, and with bang and a hiss, the iron golem starts to hum, leaking steam from every joint.

The golem looks like a caricature of Tabitha's suit of full plate, standing at around 8ft tall and weighing in at close to 700lb. The arms are thick, the legs are thick, the shoulders are broad. The helmet is entirely enclosed and has an opaque pane of silver over the eyes which glows softly. The body is covered with engravings of geometric shapes and numbers, not unlike Tabitha's actual armour. Metal-corded hoses run from the torso to the shoulders, the head and the extremities on the limbs, and seem to vibrate slightly. Overall, the suit seems to be on the brink of having a life of its own.

"Mort, close your mouth. I can see your tonsils."

"But I don't... huh? What is happening? What?" Mort stammers, eyes as large as saucers.

"This is my life's work, Mort. Your castle might be my major project and probably what I will be remembered for, but this is the culmination of all that is me."

Tabitha removes her helm and runs her fingers through her hair before continuing. She's getting more animated as she talks, a grin slowly formed on her face

"Every skill I have, everything I have read, all the blood and sweat and tears. Every ounce of power I possess. You take me for granted a lot of the time, but I *am* a Master Craftsman, Mort. I possess a set of skills few on this plane have mastered, to a degree most people would sell thier souls to achieve. Laniss and I are similar in a lot of ways, you know. He possesses mostly the same skill set I have, except he has the advantage of extended years. Despite the depth of my abilities, I will forever be in his shadow. Except this - in this I am his better. I make this suit from scratch every time, Mort. I know every plate and every bolt and every hose intimately. In the first second, I manufacture a thousand parts from raw materials. In the next second I organise the logistics chain and oversee the suits construction. In the third second, I tap into the planes and give it life. Mastery of metal is in my blood, Mort, and discipline is in my flesh. In this, I can have no equal"

Mort spends a moment processing this before replying.

"Okay. But... what is it?"

Tabitha gives a short bark of a laugh. "It is powered armour, Mort. I use my magic to mix water piped in from the plane of water with fire piped in from the plane of fire. They interact to give steam, which builds pressure which in turn gives it life. It drains my magic keeping it all held together, so it cannot exist for long stretches of time, but in short, it is armour powered with an Engine."

"Engine? Sooooo it can make ribs?" Mort asked with a raised eyebrow

Mort should learn not to anger 8th tier spellcasters.