At Gunther Gunnarson's stall...
Sigmund, interested in getting all this crap done, helps Gunther heft Mark with his single arm, delivering him inside, all the while giving Scott the stinkeye for buggering off like nobody's business. While Scott completely fails to find a book lying around on the street, the smithing begins. Gunther, ever the consummate professional, works incredibly slowly, Sigmund finds. After two hours of drilling, polishing and fitting, he's still only done with one joint, and even that's placed at the elbow. After asking Gunther how many are left, Gunther replies that there are still seven or so to go.
Wonderful.
In a senseless void...
Niklas, having nothing better to do, starts to flail existentially, whatever that means. And it sorta works, because he notices Helsvar all of a sudden.
"What are you doing, my love?"
In the company of a severe nihilist...
Morton, seeing that this guy will only serve as a rather pointless distraction at best, tries to leave.
"Ah, well, you see I'm not entirely sure myself, I don't believe I need to eat and drink actually. Now, it was nice meeting you sir, but I'm in a bit of a rush, I have to find my friends. I wish you luck in your, ah, endeavors."
However, as he wobbles away, the man follows along, continuing his rant.
"No! That doesn't make any sense, either! You need energy to exist! To move, to speak, to do things! You don't make any sense whatsoever!"
Art, clearly losing his patience as well, intervenes.
"Yes, yes, of course. Shove off, buddy."
"You're a fine one to talk! How can you move? I've never heard of flexible crystals, and you seem to require them to function! How does that work?"
"Well, you see..."
"I don't! It doesn't work! It can't work! Madness and lies, all of it!"
Morton notices that people seem to be actively avoiding him now as the man rants at him. Oh dear.