Dicemaker

The ability and opportunity to work close to something you love is truly a wonderful experience. Lara was certainly an outstanding example of this. Her work was special, not just to herself but to every one of her customers. Lara you see was a Dicemaker. Her passion and commitment to her chosen art showed in every piece. The attic of her small farmhouse had been converted to a tiny studio for just this purpose. At six square feet with the roof reaching about the same, the condensed space would have been difficult for more than one person to maneuver. For Lara, this was a perfect workshop. 

The worktop bench was set against the front wall of the house, the only source of light was a table lamp set upon a shelf above that ran from one slanted wall to the other. On either side of the lamp were the neatly aligned spines of various rules books. Sci-fi, fantasy, horror, mystery, D6, D20, D12. Every kind of game system for every variety of player. The dicemaker herself was hunched over her worktop, scratching away at a little cube of bone. On the worktop was a small laptop and a table top grinder, against the front wall were several calipers and rulers in little cubby holes and on the right side was a variety of paints and brushes. Attached to the wall below the bookshelf was an array of chisels, pliers and hammers all held in place by a rack of magnetic strips. 

Samuel, her feisty little bearded dragon, scampered across the row of books above and came to a halt at the lamp. He curled up beneath the warm light and Lara reached up to give him a quick scratch and a warm smile before returning to her work. She continued to scratch away at the italic numerals on each side, bringing the cube closer to the light for a quick inspection after each side was finished. Once she appeared content with the quality of her work she let the d6 roll off her palm and onto the worktop with a satisfying clacking noise, bringing the die to a rest with the number 2 facing up next to a variety of similarly themed polyhedral products. Lara leaned back in her swivel chair and flicked the chisel she had been using against the magnetic strips where it fastened itself rigidly. She slid off the headphones she had been wearing and rested them around her neck. 

The Dicemaker adjusted the mustard yellow bandana covering her dark straight hair before brushing down the leather apron covering her blue blouse and dark jeans. Her lightly tanned skin shone a little with perspiration from the concentration that such precise scrimshaw demanded. Hazy grey eyes now affixed upon the paint set to her right. She reached out with her right hand and snapped up a precise brush and darkly coloured paint pot whilst with her left hand she tapped on the laptops mouse pad a couple of times to direct the open playlist to a more fitting mood, snapping the headphones back over her ears with intent. 

Lara took a deep breath before hunching over the worktop again, setting herself into the fray. Light easy strokes were her world now, a simple enough step from completion. Head bobbing slightly to the chosen rhythms she worked diligently through the set, letting each finished die drop to the desk with another satisfying clatter. Work’s end brought the brush to rest in an awaiting vial of water. 

Another order completed. Lara raised her outstretched palm to the lamp, bringing Samuel skittering down to nestle on her shoulder. She leaned back and scratched the small lizard, examining her work with satisfaction. Her name was Lara and she got to work on what she loved for a living. This was a world all to herself, a world in which she lived every day under the same title her customers had bestowed unto her. She was……. The Dicemaker.