Evening Discussions

Log Info

• Title: Evening Discussions

• Characters: Harkashan, Rune, Skielstregar

• Place: W02: The Wilderness

• Summary: Rune, Harkashan, and Skielstregar meet in the wildneress, share a meal, discuss recent events, and settle together for the night.

Harkashan has a particular kind of enjoyment for staying out in the wilderness. There is of course a certain kind of coziness that comes with sleeping in a nicely closed off room, with a matress and a blanket and all of that stuff. But Harkashan is more than warm enough that he rarely needs such sources of comfort within Alexandria.

Instead, he's set up camp on the road back to Alexandria, and started a fire, in a small cave along the road. One that gives enough protection from nature and roving bands of werewolves. But close enough to the road to make it easy to find their way back.

The horses he and Rune travel with are laced up on a nearby tree, as he stokes a fire just outside of the little cave. A plume rising, and soon, he's using a small makeshift set of branches to roast what looks like some kind of large fowl.

There's a wince from him, after sitting in a position to rotate the fowl enough times, and he has to adjust. There's a bit of blood showing on the side of a bandage. His leg has gotten hurt a few too many times recently, so it's taking a bit longer to properly heal.

There is... distant conversation. The sound of two rumbling voices bickering. Or perhaps, one is chastising and the other is explaining. "You must be ware of your effects, Skielstregar," a growling, metallic clanking voice intones.

"Thisss one ssaid they are sssorry," another voice, rumbling, huffs. "They wissshed to get vantage point isss all." Both were coming from above. Caves had to be built into a cliff of some kind, right?

"Also, watch your step."

"Watch wha- ohbyHisLigh-!"

A metallic crunch lands not but a stone's throw away from Harkahasn, a pile of shiny silverscale makari pooled on his side groans. "... more warning nexssst time- oh. Deathsssinger. Erm, fancccy ssseeing you here...?"

The softskinned features of Rune are illuminated by the firelight, the half-elf poking at a few logs to get them properly into place. She looks up, giving the Death-Singer a dubious look before she shifts, moving to sit next to him and force the rabbit out of his hands.

"Go deal with that. I'll take care of this." A hand is motioned at his leg. "I probably won't burn it... too much." She teases. Rune had been practicing her basic survival skills, but the scribe turned messenger is still not as comfortable with certain tasks as those born to the woods.

That is when the sound of voices catches her ear, one pointed tip twitching, "Do you hear--" CRUNCH "-- something?"

Rune peers around the lava-scaled Makari to the sight of the silverscale on the ground. "Are you alright?" She lifts one brow, looking amused.

A sense of danger. Of death. Harkashan tries to get up, only for that wound on his leg to slow him down. Voices. Blade coming out and at the ready as...

Flump-boom-crash.

A shiny Silverscale is crumpled up next to him. The small earth-and-stone hill top not providing that much way to hold onto things. No doubt, he tried to grab onto some clumps of dirt expecting stone.

"... the hero of the undead surge." Harkashan remarks, staring at the silverscale Makari laying there. Sometimes, it is hard to believe someone this clumsy is such a fine warrior.

Notably to Skielstregar though, something seems... different about Harkashan. Those lava-flows that normally require the light to hit them in the right angle, seem more alive now. Almost as if they give off a light that others cannot see so easily. Almost like a shimmer about him that truly reminds of a lava-dragon.

With Rune having taken over the wood, and the sense of danger and death approaching 'dealt with', his blade gets resheathed and he scoots his butt away a bit to sit on a log, and takes out some bandages. Removing the existing ones that are covering his wounded leg, and starting to clean it.

"Peace upon your nest, Death-itinerant one."

Skielstregar waves off the concerns with a grunt of pain and a shake of the head. "Thisss one iss fine, they have taken worssse fallsss." Malefic seems to have been thrown skyward, as the sentient halberd lands with a >thunk< into the ground next to him, haft buried into the ground. It says nothing, but is grinning. The silversscale uses Malefic to pull themselves up to a crouch. "Peassee upon nessts, Rune, Deathsssinger." He samples the air. "Oh! Thisss one did not mean to interrupt meal time- hrmmmm."

Dead eyes pan over the to Harkashan. Dead eyes nictate. "Your dragon blood flowsss strong through you, Deathsssinger. And out of you- they smell it. Are you well?"

Compared to Harkashan's reaction, Rune seems completely calm in regards to Skielstregar's sudden arrival. It may very well be that she could hear bits of the conversation even before the quite sudden arrival. "You're a little on-edge today, aren't you?" Rune murmurs, doing a quite passable job on making sure the meat cooks evenly.

As the weapon thunks into the ground half-first, Rune offers an equally relaxed greeting, "And a pleasant day to you as well, Malefic." Reaching up, she taps the tip of one slightly pointed ear, "I could hear you two arguing. Nothing too major I hope?"

As Skielstregar points out those 'changes' in Harkashan, the rogue actually has to give her long-time friend an appraising look. Many softskins don't even notice the details of Makari physiology, but Rune's brows furrow a little. "I'd ask if changes like that were normal, but let's be honest, none of us are normal." She includes herself in that.

"You're more than welcome to join us. Though there's only the one rabbit. Small game is still pretty hard to find, but we do have some other food." There are a couple of camp pots set near the fire to stay warm, likely containing other food staples like rice or beans or stewed vegetables.

Harkashan lets out this rumbling deep sound as Skielstregar wishes them well and speaks of dinner. "You are welcome to partake." It is common for Sith-makar to share after all.

At the question about whether or not he is well, he notes; "I am wounded, but healing." Nothing that healing magic can't stem. It's just that the wound takes time to deal with. The bandage slowly covering the wound that looks like something sharp punctured through.

Still, it plays into Rune's question; "I am... on edge when wounded." He explains to her. "Especially when I sense... death." Such as Skielstregar. He's always on edge when that one is nearby.

No doubt his senses are getting stronger though.

"I think this side of the portal is... slowly awakening something within me." He explains to the two of them. "As if my Awakening is flourishing further now. It has a similar sensation to when I first Awakened, decades ago. But... smaller."

Has he ever spoken to Rune about his Awakening?

The man then looks to Malefic for a moment, considering the wicked edged weapon.

GAME: Harkashan rolls Heal: (8)+8: 16

"Good day, Rune," Malefic intones, the weapon drooping some before standing upright. It... bowed. "It was nothing remiss, Skielstregar merely forgot to keep track of his magical effects, and we were stranded briefly."

Skiel grumbles, "... thisss one wass going to climb back down." He shakes his head, electing to thud to a sitting position with his legs and tail splayed out. The silverscale perks. "Oh? Ah, thisss one appreciatesss the offer, but they will passs, they eat recently before going out on patrol. Thank you, however."

He tilts his head to the side at Harkashan, then scoots a tinge away. "Apologizesss. But, erm, from thiss side of the portal? Hrmm. That isss fascinating, Ssshaman, they did not know the Awakening could be manifesst further after ssso long. Thisss one can underssstand though."

"Well, you should stop stepping into traps if you don't want to end up looking like an overgrown draconic pin-cushion." Rune replies as if this were a perfectly reasonable response to the situation. Her lip quirks, showing that the rogue is obviously teasing him. "At least you know how to properly care for your wounds. I just make friends with Clerics instead."

Her blue eyes look between the two, always seeming fascinated by the strange contrasts of their relationship. Death knight and Death-singer. "I guess I've gotten a bit used to it. I mean, I still wouldn't want to give you a cuddle or anything, but... it's not so off-putting as it used to be."

At the talk of awakenings, there is a lift of Rune's brow. "What's an... Awakening?" She asks. Followed by, "How do you lose track of your magical effects?"

"I will attempt to refrain from stepping into traps. But you will have to teach me how to better keen an eye out for them." He bids to Rune. Then, on the topic of his body...

"I did not know either." Harkashan answers Skielstregar. "Perhaps it is something else, but it has that same... feeling." He explains, touching a hand to his chest, tracing over some of the scales exposed beyond the armor. "Like this fire within me is burning deeper."

There's a pause then, when Rune asks about the Awakening.

"I think it was... about a century ago." Harkashan answers. "I do not know its source, but I know that I did not always used to look like this. Before, this one was a dark scales and simple red markings. A fire began to burn from within me... scales shifted. Changed. Horns grew deeper, more wicked. My mind felt... more aware." He's not certain how to best describe it, so he looks to Skielstregar for support on this.

Skielstregar quirks his head. "Pin-cushion? Oh. At least the Deathsssinger wearsss armor to keep mosst of that at bay. Thisss one triesss to do sssimilar." A blink. Then a laugh, a deep, echoing thing. "Hah! Thisss one doesss not suggest the cuddle on thisss one. Sssilver blood isss sssstrong, makesss metal sccales cold, softskinsss stick."

He crosses his legs, nodding to Harkashan. "Sssa. Thisss one felt sssimilar with the cold. Itsss comforting, in thisss one'sss chest." He shakes his head. "Thisss one isss too young to remember sssuch timesss, they were not even in the egg yet, upon the Awakening. But the Lore-keepersss desccribe it asss such. The People were sssimple. Hunt, shelter, mate, sssimple thingsss of life. Lore-keepersss sssay we... changed. Flessh and blood held memories of what we were, of dragonsss. Or, ssso they ssay. Sssuch evidence is rife now, with our kin disssplaying ssuch assspectsss," he tries to elaborate as best he can, but he wasn't a a keeper of knowledge.

To Rune's question, Skiel rubs his neck, looking away. "... erm... thisss one wass using the climbing magicsss from before, you saw, and at the end was climbing cliff. They forget to keep track of how long it wasss to go, and got ssstuck on cliff." He gestures above. Embarrased.

"He walked into a spear trap." Rune explains. "Leave it to Hark to walk bull-headed right into danger." She motions a hand forward in a straight line. "Except that he sometimes forgets that he isn't made of immpenetrable dragon scales."

Her eyes widen slightly at the description of Skielstregar's scales, most definitely shaking her head emphatically at that. "No thank you. The cold and I are not good friends. So I will stick to shoving my half-frozen fingers against Harkashan." She turns motions towards the lava-scaled ones.

It's then that she removes the rabbit from the fire, taking out one of her daggers to start splitting it out into portions. Even so, it's obvious she is listening. "I think I might have heard some stories about that when we traveled in Am'shere, but it always seemed more like a fairy-tale. Things like that actually happened?"

Then, across to Skielstregar, the rogue smiles softly. "Well, I've not got a magic bone in my body, so I can imagine it has to be hard to figure out just when a spell might run out of magic." It's very clear that she has little knowledge of how magic actually works.

"He is likely best cuddled upon in the midst of summer, when the times are too hot." Though he considers the temperate climate of Alexandros and notes; "Though I am not sure it gets hot enough for that outside of Am'shere."

When he finishes dealing with his bandaging, he moves forward and checks out the food - while listening. When Skielstregar mentions the matters of blood held memories, he quickly gives Skielstregar a look. Though they are amongst friends, it is important not to speak so freely of such things. It's a firm kind of look that is hard to miss.

"As for the matter of that trap, it was important to keep moving forward." He remarks. Unlike Rune, who is quick on her feet and can stand to move in more circuitous ways, Harkashan is more... limited in his approach. Though no doubt there is a mental component to that too.

"Perhaps one day, these scales of mine will be impenetrable as a true dragon's." He rumbles with a tone that seems a bit more 'concerned' than amused. This resurgence of 'Awakening' he seems to be undergoing is after all, something that he cannot control.

"It looks good." He notes, and Rune is soon taking the creature from the fire. He takes out some simple bowls and herbs, and offers them to Rune for 'plating' so to say.

GAME: Harkashan rolls Profession/Herbalist: (13)+8: 21

Skielstregar nods slowly, chuckling. "Thisss one approvesss, walking bull-headed into danger sssometimesss iss the best way to deal with problems. But, ah, the Shaman iss right, perhapss during summer it would be more bearable to poke."

His maw clicks a bit as he tries to find the words, especially in front of the Deathsinger. "Erm... how to explain. There isss a feeling of waning, near the end. Like a mussscle giving out. Thisss one was not paying attention, and the magicsss went out. And thisss one'sss magicsss are... weird, ssso isss ssstill hard to parssse."

The look he gets from Harkashan is like a parent scolding a child. Skiel sits upright, an 'erk' muddled in his throat. "Thiss one speaksss only of the dragonsss," he tries to assuage, more to Harkashan. "That much isss known." Skirting attention away from less public knowledge, it seems. Doubling down with, "Sssa, perhapss eventually impenetrable. Dependsss if your Awakening progressesss that one. For thisss one, they can paint swathss of ice with their breath. Thiss one thinkss you both sssaw it on the attack of the werewolvesss camp."

He sniffs twice. Looking at the meal. He doesn't need it. Tip of his tail wags. He doesn't need it.

GAME: Harkashan rolls Bluff: (7)+3: 10
GAME: Rune rolls sense motive: (16)+8: 24
GAME: Rune rolls bluff: (20)+9: 29
GAME: Harkashan rolls Sense Motive: (1)+12: 13 (EPIC FAIL)
GAME: Skielstregar rolls sense motive: (13)+2: 15

"I generally only sprawl on people who offer, so you're relatively safe, regardless." Rune's lips quirk again, giving a playful sort of wink to the silver-scaled warrior.

Then, her eyes find Harkashan and linger there for an uncomfortably long time. She may not have his insight into people, but it is enough to piece together that there are things the two Makari may not be telling her. She lets out the softest of breaths through her nose. It likely is not the first time Rune has been kept out of something. Being a half-breed means you very rarely belong anywhere.

"I guess that makes sense." That soft smile lingers, not even showing a hint of what thoughts might be roiling underneath. "If magic is a muscle, it makes sense that it can get tired just like anything else." No one has ever quite phrased it that way, but it seems that Rune accepts this at face value.

Her eyes shift from the silver-scale down to the tip of his tail, giving one eyebrow raise. Then, as Harkashan offers her the bowls, she starts to lay out rice, vegetables and herb accompaniment, and rabbit into not just two bowls, but three. One is offered to Hark, one left by her side, and the remaining offered out to Skielstregar. "Eat. We've got plenty."

"As I recently had to speak of - though years have passed, it has not warded away bad ideas yet." He notes with a tone of bemusement. "As for your magics... in the end, it is about training that 'musle' and getting to understand when it's weakened ahead of time, not during."

His gaze then turns away from Skiel when he sits upright and lets out that erk. Indeed, he speaks only of dragons, but he sensed that more was coming. Indeed. That of dragons is known.

"I fear we were rather busy. You were occluded by a tent, Skielstregar. So I did not witness your assault." They'd dealt with a good twenty or so Werewolves. It had been a notable battle.

Unaware that Rune has caught on, and may be resenting the fact that his species holds a great secret - lacking the context - he just continues. Accepting the bowl given to him, and then using his claws to finger food into his muzzle and eat.

"Hmm, this tastes well." He notes to Rune. Pleased, it seems.

He then notes; "Skielstregar, you know more than I, having been in this area longer than me. Do you happen to know this fiend?" He then begins to explain in very rough terms, a fiend with a 'tentacled beard'. Having recently been summoned by cultists by sacrificing one of their own.

Skielstregar blinks at Rune. "... thisss one only offersss if you are overheating...?" he says a tingle dumbly. Loveable, if a bit of a dullard. The exchange between the two is missed by Skiel as he is too busy trying to figure out the logistics of getting sprawled on, but his attention shifts back. "Sssa. It isss like a musscle. But thisss mussscle iss.. messy."

He looks down at the bowl. Back up to Rune. Down at the bowl. Skiel bows his head and takes the offering. "Thiss one thanksss you," he rumbles before carefully eating.

By carefully eating, half of it is already gone, tipped into his big maw. "... isssh good!" he enthuses, tail swaying behind him. Harkashan's question stymies him, the warrior blinking and tilting his head. He looks up, tapping his chin with a finger before shaking his head. "No, thisss one doess not know ssuch fiend. That sssoundsss... bad."

"Not at the moment." Rune laughs, finding a companionable sort of amusement at Skielstregar's confusion. "But I'll keep you in mind if I ever start to overheat, my friend." She's probably just being playful. Probably.

She seems happy enough to see her companions eating, especially as she had a hand in both catching and preparing the meal. After spending long days struggling with such things, any progress is a positive one. Rune joins them in eating, quieting for a time being.

At least, until Harkashan starts describing their strange encounter. "Whatever it was, it had the power to speak into our heads, and claimed to be something that 'does not die.'." She sure did stab it a good few times, though. "That, and the fact that a good number of the werewolf cultists managed to escape. It feels like we root out one group and find another."

The rogue huffs, "Wish we knew where they all were coming from."

"Would you perhaps know who to ask about such a being? We've submitted a report to the Guild of course, but I'd like to do my own kind of research." He remarks as Skielstregar notes that this fiend may sound 'bad'.

"Perhaps we should go to Telamon and speak to him of this. They seem to be more familiar with these werewolf cultists. Perhaps they would recognize this being." He then offers to Rune.

Before stuffing his face more with rabbit and the rest of the bowl. Similar to Skielstregar, he is quick to finish the meal itself by nature of having a big maw.

Skielstregar gives a slow nod towards Rune from behind his bowl. "Alright. The sssummersss here lack the muggy of Am'shere, but are jussst as hot," he warns before continuing to eat. Not really one to savor the meal, it seems, but still looking satisfied as he sets the bowl down, were his swaying tail to go by anything. "Thankss..!"

The Deathsinger's question gets Skiel to look up again, tapping his chin. "... maybe Warrior Andelena and Warrior Dolan. Both ssservantsss of the Dragonfather-"

"Praise be unto Him," Malefic quips.

"-Both can be found at the temple of Daeusss. They are matesss. Warrior Andelena hasss red hair, tall for sssoftskins. Warrior Dolan hasss jewel for eye, big ssword. Thisss one knowsss they are demonssslayersss. Ssstrong sservantsss."

"I remember, though it's been a long time since I've experienced an Alexandrian summer." Rune leaves it at that. The strange history of the time between her death and her recent arrival in the city is something she rarely talks about.

While the two Makari are nearly finished in about two giant-maw sized bites, Rune eats a bit slower. Her expression is thoughtful as she looks over the fire, using one hand to reach for a stick and poke at it a couple more times.

"Skielstregar might be right about our first stop. Dolan seemed pretty knowledgable about everything going on the last time." They had gone to a meeting with a number of other Adventurers outlining the strange happenings, including the werewolves. "I've never met his fiancee', I don't think."

For the silver-scale's sake, she elaborates, "Dolan chewed through a good number of werewolves when we went to rescue Telamon. Though I get the impression he wasn't supposed to be fighting at all." She catches the corner of her lip between her teeth. "Telamon and Cor'lana would be another option, of course. I know I need to head back to the city and try to commission a crafter soon. We keep running into more and more things that a normal blade just can't manage."

"I am familiar with Dolan." Harkashan remarks thoughtfully, touching the bottom of his muzzle for a moment. Thinking about this. "I agree. That would be a good path to take on this." He then adds, growing a bit more quiet.

It's easy to tell that Harkashan is a bit tired.

At Rune's note on needing to improve her blade, he remarks; "I have magics that can temporarily aleviate that need. But with the Fey, Werewolf, and fiends we keep coming across, my magics can only aleviate that problem so much...

Skielstregar bobs his head. "Sssa, Dolan wass there with uss during the fight. They saw. The Dragonfather ssshould be proud of him. But, erm, yesss, magic weaponsss important for sssome prey. Thisss one cariesss many different implementsss jussst in case. May thisss one suggestsss more weaponsss? Made of different materialsss. Silver and cold iron, good to have. Even jussst a dagger."

The towering, half-dead silverscale slowly moves his head between the two. Reads them. Then slowly exhales a sigh, a plume of frozen air leaving his maw and wafting out of the cave. "Do not ssstretch yourssselvesss too thin," Skielstregar advises, looking a bit tired himself. "Thisss one ussed to chasse after every problem, but in the end, it got them nearly killed- again- several timesss. Besst to hone focusss on a couple of thingssss while you find out more about yourssself. It hisss a hard lessson thisss one has to learn."

"I think tracking down Dolan or Telamon will have to be a tomorrow problem." Rune scoops her fingers along the bottom of her bowl, getting the last few pieces of rice before setting it down on the ground next to her. "We'll probably camp here. Old lava-scales over there looks like he's about ready to call it a night." Her voice carries that teasing tone to it.

"And I don't want to have to be too dependant on your magic. I appreciate it, but I do have to be able to be able to carry my own weight." Her brows lift. There is a distinct look that she gives him, before raising the finger where she still wears the platinum ring he had given her. They still had a /lot/ to talk about, it seems.

Then, turning to Skielstregar, "It's a good suggestion. Gold hasn't been easy to come by, so it's mostly a matter of picking up the things we most need at the time. Though, with all these werewolves, a silvered short sword might come in handy."

"I'm not that old." Harkashan retorts when Rune comments on him, "But I am feeling a bit drowsy. Skielstregar, might we bother you to hold watch?" Payment for the rabbit, no doubt. "I would sleep a lot better knowing that Kin was keeping watch." He bids to him.

Other than that, he listens quietly to the two of them talk for now, scooting a bit towards the cave now that they're looking to settle in.

Skielstregar snorts at the tease towards Harkashan. "You are much older than thisss one. Thisss one iss barely thirty wintersss." A pause. "Thiss one thinks."

He bobs his head at Rune, agreeing about holding one's own before the suggestion to keep watch is brought up. "Oh! Sssure, thiss one can-"

"We will remain VIGILANT throughout the night, kin!" Malefic declares, standing up rigidly and looking out the cave like their life depended on it.

"... we can watch," Skiel laughs.