Fine Detail [SE]

Zariah Be dangerous darling, for the world rises and falls at your feet. Zariah was not a stranger to the creative. Back in Northaven, she had used her mastery of fire to purify metal ores and created intricate jewelry from them. But it had been a long time since she had used her eye and hands to create. As she walked through the streets, hands shoved in the pockets of her overlong tunic, she glanced towards the new Artist's guild. It was sort of an odd thing she thought - weren't artists usually rather anti-establishment - but figured it was more a decent business decision than anything. If all the artists were in one place, it made it easier to commission work she supposed. That was when her eye caught on an open door, inside of which a man sat, sculpting something from clay. Curious, she quietly approached, pausing in the doorway to simply observe. Sculpting was never something she had done, but it had always intrigued her. It seemed something one was either very good at, creating realistic and beautiful pieces, or something one was horrible at, turning a lump of clay into a slightly moved around lump of clay. This fellow seemed to be making some sort of scene, and her head tilted slightly to the side. "What are you making?" she said, her face a perfect emotionless mask.