How the Dark Grows

If it's warm in the sun, and cool in the shade--that makes this decision easy. Svarshan lies on one of the plaza's stone benches. His arms drape either side of him, his feet stick out the back. The tail flops over his toes. And he's asleep.

No he isn't.

He totally is. Just resting the eyes. Enjoying the sunshine. Enjoying the basking, warm rays that promise soon, soon, summer is around the corner.

"Hey you got the last piece, Thunder!" Sylvi calls out to the young black panther walking beside her as its deftly eats a piece of cooked meat off of her fork. "Now be a good kitty." she says to the clearly disinterested animal as she tries to spear another chunk of meat and eat it before Thunder gets to it. "I gotta eat too." whatever it is, smells good though.

Amid the worshipers walks a large half-orc, a newly bloodied and heavy flail at his hip. He is clearly pleased with himself, a broad smile on his lips and an air of satisfaction as thick as the solemness which most of those who have come to pray emulate. There is a newly made deer hide held securely on top of the bear pelt he wears with one hand. As he makes his way toward the temple he catches sight of Svarshan sunning on the roof. "Hail Svarshan!" He calls loudly, pausing in his trek. Currently unaware of the gnome and her lethal pet.

Sniff. Sniff sniff sniiiiiii... The muzzle works. The nostrils flutter. Svarshan tiiiiilts towards the delicious foodstuff before the oruch's calling-out wakes him up. The reptilian lays there a while. He blinks, slowly. Once. Twice, with the flicker of the inner lids.

"Peasse to you," he says, midway through a yawn. And, "When did it get to be. Lunch?"

Sylvi gets a few more bites out of her paper container in before finally giving up and letting Thunder have the rest, placing the container on the ground and letting the large feline tear into it with its claws and eat the remaining cooked meat. "Uh sure lunch, you got to fight him for any of it though." she says when she hears Svarshan mention lunch, gesturing to Thunder. "He's not good at sharing."

Razen opens his mouth to offer some manner of commentary, but the words are forestalled by the voice slightly behind and to the side of him. Gray-green eyes shift to the source of the voice and he jumps back away quickly enough that he nearly drops his hide. Immediately and instinctively his hand falls to his flail. "There's a cat!"

Another, bigger yawn. The sith-makar sits up from the sun-warmed bench, though his palm lingers on the surface.

Sun-warmed.

"Sssa, peasse to you both," he says, while he gets his druthers. "One ssuspectss it iss," yaaawwwn, "a sservant of the Green." The sun is nice. So nice. It beats down on the earth--though the shadows are still cold, the benches and rock-surfaces are not.

Sylvi furrows her brow "Thats Thunder by the way and he is a brave Knight of Happy Valley, just like me." she says in a stern tone. "He's just a harmless kitty in any case, never hurt nobody who didn't deserve it." she says with a wide smile. "Oh and I am Sylvi Sprocket."

Razen hesitates a moment longer before relaxing a little and letting his hand lift to offer it to the much, much smaller gnomish woman. "Razen Diharth." To those that knew the native language of the far norther Oruch tribes his surname said volumes. 'Of no home' was not a common or even uncommon one among them. A chosen name them. He glances upwards again, nodding respectfully to the sith-makar whom he was familiar with. "What brings you to the Temples?"

"My--" catchin' flies, "misstaaake." And the reptilian finds his butt is glued to the warm bench. Figuratively. "One'ss apologiess. I am ussed to sseeing them among the Green." He looks to the oruch, then. "It hass been a while, ssince one reconnected. And the Binder iss on the move, again." Slower blink. "And the Charneth are re. Forming."

Slower, "And a Chaoss Lich iss. Bored."

Sylvi grins at Svarshan "Well if any of those things come for Happy Valley Thunder will be sure to bite them in the butt." she says scratching the Panther behind the ear, which is occupied licking at the remnants of the paper box on the ground. "Maybe you should get the chaos lich a kitty of its own, they sure keep any boredom at bay."

Slowly the half-orc shook his head, but added a second more firm one. "Just waiting is not acceptable. What they are doing to the sith-makar..." He shudders. "Should happen to no-one. These are grave foes, but... Perhaps something; anything can be done against them?"

"...whatever iss being done takess time and ressources," Svarshan says darkly. He looks across to the oruch, his expression bleak. At length, a smile sort-of makes its way there. Sort of. "Thiss one iss not ssure where to sstart. But, otherss-in-casste investigate recent workingss. The turning of the People into bombss. Mixing uss with their monssters, that iss new."

He looks to the gnome then, and grins. A brief, flash of teeth to show he agrees with her.

Sylvi looks a little worried "Well thats good then right? People are working on it?" she says trying to be a bit more cheerful. "But I think Thunder is still hungry and I wouldn't want him thinking something is food that aint." she notes calling Thunder to heel as he walks. "See you guys later!" she waves as she goes.

Razen lifts a hand and offers her a brief farewell, but it's clear that there's much on his mind. "I simply do not understand what takes time or resources. This does not have to begin with a war. Only with resistance. With warning those at risk so they can defend themselves. A small group of people in the right place at the right time could free some of those taken as slaves. If you make them pay three, five... ten for each one they take. That would be /something/."

"Ssa, thiss one means..." and the sith-makar pauses aas he struggles to find the words. "...that what the Charneth do, musst take ressources. To esspend a level of magic to craft a Trygon. ..."

"Thiss takess resources," he says at length. "Sso, can one think, it iss an issolated persson? A ssingular mage?" And here he pauses, letting the quiet space fill in the answer, lets the thought hang heavy on the wind.

A similar expression falls on Razen's face. It's clear he never considered the actual source; more concerned with what could be done immediately. "Well... You would need at least someone who can do that kind of magic. But there's definitely someone at the very top. Someone with either the magic, or the... force of will that it would take to make people do what they wanted." He shook his head. "It almost does not matter if it is a group working together, because one of them will be leading. With that much... power, someone will be."

"Yess." Svarshan's response has the flash of teeth with it, the snap of fang that would close on the limb of some far-away Charneth. If only they'd...come a little closer. "There iss ssomeone, or a group of ssomeones. They have dessided there iss profit in what they do. A good ressult--thesse Tyrgonss, the sslaves. The barbarian-beassts. One musst convinsse them that there iss. No profit."

The tail flicks, then lashes against stone. "Or that the rissk is not worth. It. But both...both would be good."

Razen grins back, flashing fangs not nearly as impressive as the sith-makar's but fierce just the same. "So make them pay. Fight them like hunting mighty herd-beasts. Distract, then take back those they stole. Wait for the perfect moment and then bring down the leader so they are without command. You do not need many hunters against a herd; only those willing to risk much for the reward."

Sudden laughter. A coughing hiss that has Svarshan looking to the side. "Ssa, ssa. But the first sstep is to find them, and from there, who leadss. How." A slow, quiet smile. A patient one, a hungry one. "And that iss the sstart of the. Journey. ...sso what bringss you to the Temple groundss?" he asks in turn.

Razen blinks at the unexpected question and then grins broadly. "Ah! I come to bring a gift to Angoron. I found victory with a group seeking lost scouts in the Desolation. Angoron blessed us well, and we freed them from the magic that bound them there and so I come to thank him for it." He laughed gently and hefted the hide to show what he meant.

"The Dessolation. What did you find there?" the reptile asks. He leans forward from the warm bench. Almost leaving it in his interest. "Did you sspot the demonss, warrior?" he asks of him, asking of the Binder and his demon army!

The half-oruch shook his head. "If I had I would have told you friend. We found only a tower that could not be seen, and a gnome who used magic to make us see what was not there and to take the will from those who we had come to save." He looks a touch embarrassed toward the end of his commentary.

Svarshan gives the oruch a direct look. "The worsst enemies are those which invade your mind. Thiss is what worries me for the Binder'ss spies," he says. He stands then. Slow. A look towards the bench and its warm, warm sun.

"Peasse to you. Perhapss thiss one will go with you to make thiss offering. ...and we will sselebrate sstrength against thosse who would do harm."

Razen nodded, agreeing completely. To take the will from others, to deny them the freedom of their very thoughts and actions was an abomination which made his blood heat. "It would be my pleasure to have you at my side friend."

-End-