Visit to Mictlan
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-<* RP Nexus: Mictlan *>--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=- Located within the Deep Woods, and hours past Wilderness Pointe, in the heart of its northern woods, bones frame this hollowed-out space. Massive and heavy, they reach towards the sky, meeting--almost--in the center like great and worn stalagmites. Or giant teeth. After a few seconds--it's quickly evident that this is a space carved from a dragon's bones. A very, very large...dragon's bones. The air smells of ash, brimstone, and earth. Underneath the apex of the bones lie the workings of a ceremonial pyre. The grounds are run by shamans of the sith-makar, and the sacred space dedicated to the Death Singing Dragon, one of their names for the goddess, Vardama. The sith use it to sing the souls of their dead back to the land of Wing and Flame. It was here that brave heroes stood, and vanquished the ashen warriors of old, thereby freeing the land from Thul's curse. OOC: This is a temporary room, open for roleplay for a brief time. It exists because of actions by heroes of Alexandria. -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-- Contents --=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=- Ssylrath Green lizardman, short and wide, with a Swiftclaw. 1m 12h Svarshan Be a brightscale! Chomp a demon! 0s 1d -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= Exits -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=- Roleplay Nexus <RN> -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
Renfrey has arrived.
"Vsssskt! Varrurun karra urnuu avi i uuun!" Svarshan angrily slashes the air in front of him...a gesture the shaman in front of him ignores. An argument. A debate. The two prowl around one another, or nearly so, exchanging words and anger.
Eventually, of course. The shamanic elder wins and the brightscale looks away.
"You've been among the ssoftskins too long. We worry for your tiess. To the tribes and the People."
Mictlan, for what Mictlan is, is busy today. A pair of swifts rest nearby, one larger than the other, though both of comprable size. The larger is a female, who keeps eyeing the one next to her--a muscular, if lean, well-bred swift male. Beside /him/ is a sith female, holding his mecate. There are shamans here, too. Nothing formal appears to be going on--indeed, it seems mostly a social evening. Except for the argument. A few of them are actually cleaning out their bowls and talking. (repose)
Renfrey is always fond of poking his nose in where it doesnt belong and like a creepy stalker out of nowhere he appears behind Svarshan. "Good day! Its all very curious isnt it?" he says in hushed whispers to Svar. Hopefully not too many will take note of the non-sith.
Ssylrath arrives riding yet another Swiftclaw, coming to a stop by the others and dismounting in a clash of metal armour. He holds up one open hand in the traditonal greeting. "Peace on your nests." He then pats his mount on her nose and admonishes her. "Ssstay here, Thaliss. These othersss are not a threat today." He then turns towards the others and makes his way forward. <draconic>
Svarshan stares at the elder a while and mutters something. It's clear who has won, however. And whatever is going on becomes worse when the female speaks up, "I have an entire herd, you know. We will do well together, you will see." She gestures to the swifts. To the entering warrior, she says, "Peace to your nests."
And well, the brightscale glares at them both. Then looks at Renfrey as though to say: if there was a day to go drinking. He clasps the man on the shoulder, carefully, and nods to Ssylrath. He doesn't seem very...good...with words at the moment. Especially not now.
Renfrey grins and clearly does not understand anything going on. "So whats going on? Some ritual or another? You know I am not very good with this whole tribalism thing." he comments rather casually. "No locks either to fix."
Ssylrath looks back and forth between the two Sith-makar males. "Am I interrupting? I do not wisssh to intrude on... business dealings. Or affairs of the heart." He stops a few paces back and waits for a response.
"The elders...varruk va i avi cihuaa." The elders are giving him a mate, he means. The brightscale keeps slipping and out of the People's tongue. Cihuaa. Mate. He rubs at his jaw and fails at words again. And looks at the sith sitting by the swiftclaw pair. It...could be part of the reason. By sith standards, he's a fool. A /damned/ fool. At least in some senses.
"We will be fine. He's afraid," the new sith says, as she stands. She wears the traditional cloth of Am'shere, with markings that place her as part of the crafter caste. "It's because he's very responsible. I'm Vthria of the Atoyaatl." She smiles, and it's just side of a smile. "That's a nice swift you have there. What tribe is she from?"
The other swifts have noticed Thaliss, too. Srassha eyes her speculatively. The male beside her looks more relaxed.
Renfrey scratches his head, trying to get a handle on whats going on and looks at Svarshan quizically. "Wait.. mate... Svarshan are you getting maried?!" he blurts out.
Ssylrath speaks to the female in his raspy voice. "Thaliss was raised in Farvygrilbimwilawonti, I am Ssylrath Beassstfriend of the Aseketus tribe." He holds up his hand in greeting to her as well. "Ssshe is not used to these cold places, I only recently brought her here."
"Vaa--" he's dropped into the tongue, again. Svarshan gives himself shake, but--looking at V, if one were a sith, one could understand why he looks a little tongue-tied. Or...more than a little tongue-tied.
Damned fool.
He waves a hand towards Ssylrath, meaning the other man's words are better than his. Probably most of the time, but especially right now.
"We are. You sshould sshare the fire after the ceremony, warrior. I have shared no breath or fire with the Farvygrilbimwilawonti tribe, and I would love to hear about their herds. I own one, myself. Cicitlaltin iss one of my males." She sends Svarshan an amused glance, who still seems to be trying to put words together.
Renfrey lights up "Storytime?! I like stories!" he then turns to Svarshan with a very serious expression. "Be very carefull. I almost got married once because she thought I was a wealthy business owner. Then she found out how much I make and left me. My fault for looking for love in a strip club." he says with a shrug.
Ssylrath chuckles, his voice sounding like clashing gravel. "I have not had my Elders trying to mate me yet. Perhapsss it is because I have not been home in two yearsss. In my tribe we put less stock in parentage anyway, all nestlings are the resssponsibility of all. It binds usss together, but makes mating time... tricky." He looks over at Renfrey. "TThat is the place where softskins remove their clothing, yesss? I do not understand the point. Surely you also undress to swim?"
"Taking cihuaa iss. ...it iss honor." Svarshan works to find the words. They come slowly, carefully formed. And then he falls silent again, thinking. Thinking too much...but stunned still, too. And thinking.
Vthria watches him, and then moves to stand nearby. Cuffs his arm, to get his attention. Pay attention, that says warmly, before she looks over. "Honor, and other things. I'll be moving my herds here, for a time. And back and forth. We will ssshare Am'shere and Alexandria." Then to Ssylrath, "We sshare our children, too. We've not...we've not dessided how much they will be in Alexandria."
Renfrey shrugs to Ssyl "We have special suits for swimming. And its more then removing clothes... its also a very specual ritual dance called 'the lap dance'. " he says quite seriously. Turning to Svar he simply grins. " So when is the ceremony and the party?!"
Ssylrath eyes both the betrothed with a toothy smile. "I believe you will have strong nestlings, may the Green imbue them with strength to survive. What sort of ssceremony do you expect to have? I have found my tribe and expectationsss... atypical."
"...I do not know," Svarshan responds. The words carry as much relief as it does anxiety. Vthria touches his forearm again before stepping away. "I will see to the sswifts. And kss't! If I tell him when, he will plan hisss escape." With that, she heads back towards Srassha and Cicitaltin, and Thaliss, if Ssylrath's mount has wandered over there. To Ssylrath, "I sshare your words with the Hearth Fire. And pray for many, warrior-Ssylrath." Doom. Doooooom.
Svarshan watches her as she heads away, then looks back around. ...opens his muzzle. ...closes it. "It depends," he says heavily, "On how well. You hold you. Drink. ...there will be sssong and. Fire, Renfrey. And..." he pauses, and looks at Ssylrath. "Even the sscarlegs. Compete," he says. Unspoken words. Even if his tribe have no cihuaa, sometimes, a sith-makar party is a sith-makar party.
<Meet> Ssylrath summons Rhodes
Rhodes has arrived.
<Meet> Ssylrath summons Rhodes.
"...I do not know," Svarshan responds. The words carry as much relief as it does anxiety. Vthria touches his forearm again before stepping away. "I will see to the sswifts. And kss't! If I tell him when, he will plan hisss escape." With that, she heads back towards Srassha and Cicitaltin, and Thaliss, if Ssylrath's mount has wandered over there. To Ssylrath, "I sshare your words with the Hearth Fire. And pray for many, warrior-Ssylrath." Doom. Doooooom.
Svarshan watches her as she heads away, then looks back around. ...opens his muzzle. ...closes it. "It depends," he says heavily, "On how well. You hold you. Drink. ...there will be sssong and. Fire, Renfrey. And..." he pauses, and looks at Ssylrath. "Even the sscarlegs. Compete," he says. Unspoken words. Even if his tribe have no cihuaa, sometimes, a sith-makar party is a sith-makar party. (repose)
Renfrey grins "Drink is all I need! Although if you happen to know so elves maidens... well I do so thats no problem. I can bring company right?!" he asks with a wide grin. "We will marry you off appropriately!"
Ssylrath grins even wider. "We will not tell him when, then. I will bring sssome reed-wine, my people make it. I have not found the like here, but for thisss I will travel home."
Rhodes decides it was time to visit the place again since his last one, and hoping this one will be more peaceful. Trecking out from the city, he finds his way back here and looks over at those gathered, knowing a few, remembering others. "I hope I'm not intruding on anything," he offers.
Renfrey grins to Rhodes "Not at all! Svar is going to get married, there will be a large party and he even promised lots of young elven maidens would come!" he adds with a grin.
Daeusites are an odd breed. Paladins more so. Now that he's been given his orders, so to speak...the yelling from earlier has no further life. Svarshan, as they stand there and talk, seems to be settling in...his body language saying: okay, this is how things will be. And then, well. Then... you know, people begin talking about the cihuaa ceremony. And that...
He twitches. Twitches, and eyes Ssylrath. And then Renfrey. And then opens his muzzle, and...no. No, just not saying. A. Word.
Mictlan, for what it is, is busy today. There are no formal ceremonies--though a few of the shamans sit nearby, talking as they clean simple (if large) bowls. Three swifts, two female and one male, stand near the edge of the grounds. A sith-makar female wearing clothing which marks her of the crafter's caste stands nearby, and talks with them in a hissing tongue and generally working to hold their attention. As Rhodes enters, one of the shaman stands, and bows. He makes the Sign of Triangles in silence before sitting down again.
Ssylrath makes his way back over to the Swiftclaws, mounting one of the females in one motion with a clash of armour plates. "I have plansss to set in motion. Svarshan, Vthria, I will be there." He is still grinning widely at Svarshan's discomfort. "I would not misss this for... a lot." Words fail him.
Rhodes returns the symbol of the triangle to the shaman, with a bow also, giving respect to the one that showed him some. He comes up over to Renfrey and looks to Svarshan and Ssylrath. "Svar is getting married! Wonderful," he smiles then blinks. "Young elven maidens? Why would there be young elven maidens?"
"There will not be..." Svarshan struggles with the words. Not just with words...but with concepts, with...as he looks to Renfrey, then now Rhodes, if one could read him or read faces...the mixed races of those present. "You will enjoy. Yoursself," to Renfrey. And that is all he says. He nods to Ssylrath. Unspoken words and also--a sharp look the warrior's way. Because he's smiling. The smile is not good. It distracts him from being able to give Rhodes much more than a nod.
Renfrey gives Rhodes an elbow "You know for entertainment." he gives a wink. "Oh and there should be a bachalor party! Is there such thing as a sith stripper? Maybe one in a cake?" he muses.
Whirlpool goes home.
Whirlpool has left.
JUDGE: Whirlpool summons Ssylrath away.
Ssylrath has left.
Svarshan opens his muzzle. Closes it. Near the remaining swifts, Vthria watches occasionally. At the moment, she's holding Srassha's attention. And then, gurgle, "I will honor my cihuaa," he says. And you know what? One of the shamans looks inordinately smug.
An expression the shaman doesn't bother to mend as he comes forward. "Under wingss and flame. Welcome to Mictlan." He's an older sith, with scars here and there. One who's lived a full life. And who is very, very smug.
"Have you ever been to a sith-maker wedding?" Rhodes asks Renfrey. "I don't think they provide that sort of entertainment, or do bachelor parties like humans do." He turns to the shaman and gives a bow. "Thank you, it is an honor to return."
Renfrey shakes his head to Rhodes "I have no idea but it sounds fun. Oh well." he shrugs "Maybe you can go find a demon to slay or something? Perhaps thats celebration for you?" he asks Svar rather awkwardly.
"I..." A look towards Vthria, and back again. "I have been...thinking of teaching, for a while. Except..." words. The rest of the sentence spells it out without him adding much more. He nods to Rhodes though, as the Mourner gives his greeting.
The shaman thumps his tail against the earth. "You are always welcome at the fires," he says. "There isss one tonight, if you would join in ssong with us."
You have left channel WhirlChan.
Rhodes smiles at the shaman, "I would be honored, though I would have to learn the song, I fear I probably do not know it." He looks over to Svarshan. "You doing okay?" he asks the sith-maker, at least attempting to be friendly.
Renfrey smiles "Think I might pass, there is work to be done afterall. Good day!" the rogue calls out before disapearing as silently as he appeared.
Svarshan watches the vanishing and...falls quiet again. Eventually, he looks to Rhodes. "I can...teach. It would be good practice...for me," he says. The words are not easy, but he makes the effort. And, "...adjusting. I am...adjusting."
The shaman just looks smug.
"Adjusting to the thought of being married?" Rhodes asks. "And thank you for the lesson." He glances at the shaman with the smug look, but doesn't comment on it at this time.
"...yess. And..." Words. Words. ...words. He fails at them miserably, and holds out his hands, palms up. Then nods, a move that invites Rhodes to walk along Mictlan as they talk.
Rhodes sees the move and shifts to walk with Svarshan. "You're leaving the guild and becoming a Shaman here?" he asks as they walk and get a little way from other people.
"I...have not been. Part of the Guild for sssome time." Svarshan walks along with him, the movement slow. Steady. But slow. "I hunt the Iron Hellss. It took a while...for me to undersstand that iss why the Dragon would draw. A paladin. ...but it isss...it sssuited. Now. ..."
Rhodes listens and gives a nod. "But getting married is a good thing, settling down, not having to go out and adventure, defend the world anymore. Let others, younger people do it."
After a while, Svarshan nudges the other man. He's careful. "I...belong to the Dragon." The words are simple, but absolute, as they walk along. And he's silent after that, experiencing the earth, the scent of ash around them. The rise of dragonbone. "What of. ...you?"
Rhodes chuckles at this and shrugs, "I... We had a rather... strange one last week. You heard about that house in the older part of the city? With the undead? We went to deal with a magic circle down there... Nasty stuff... It wasn't just a simple destruction."
Svarshan glances over, his features thoughtful. "...ah." He walks a while, and takes his time before replying. "There are few...asss equipped to deal with it. As the Vardamen. Did you break them, Mourner?" for a moment, just a moment, the teeth show. But barely, and it's swiftly gone.
Rhodes nods, "It took a few hours, but we did. Felt like nothing, but there was some nasty things fighting us. And it is not over. Someone has to go down into the crypts. But whatever was powering this thing, it's strong... It attacked us, tried to lure us in... anything to get us to stop."
"...the hardesst battles. Are fought. Up here." The brightscale taps at the side of his skull and falls quiet again. Near the center of Mictlan, one of the shamans has begun the fire. Young still, it has a ways to grow before it reaches Fire height.
Rhodes smiles, "It was hard, and fought well with the mind, heart and soul..." he looks over to the fire. "So you're going to be staying in Mictlan more? With your new wife?"
"I..." The world is crumbling. Svarshan follows the look, to see the shamans preparing the fire. Nothing so organized or ceremonial--but people focused on their work. Slowly, it climbs higher. "...I..." It's going to be so different. Words.
"What is wrong?" He looks to Svarshan. He can read it, feel it, off of the sith-maker. "Is this what you want or is this what they expect you to want?"
"I..." Words. If he wasn't so terrible with them, if, if, if... He turns and looks towards the swift, and the female sith who stands there nearby. "...it iss as it is." He falls quiet again, and looks over with a partial smile. He...words.
...words.
"I...when. ...when I go to the Hells..."
"...I sssee. Ssense. Smell evil. When I come here...I am very glad to be alive. I am afraid. For her." Silence again a while. Gather the words. Shape them. "...I am very glad to be alive. I am glad to walk with you, Mourner. I am glad to sssee the Sun."
Rhodes smiles at hearing all of this and nods, "You're glad just to be alive and able to enjoy life as it is. That is something we try to strive with as well. Enjoy life, don't let it slip away, because all too soon you will be gone and in the afterlife." He puts a hand on Svarshan's arm. "Then enjoy it. Be with your new wife, make plenty of sith-maker children. Let life surround and fill you."
"We are here. For sssmmall times." Svarshan does not move the hand away. Underneath, he twitches--the scales given a sudden jerk, then stilling. Scarleg. "And we ssshould work. On your ssongs." The last word comes warmly, and more smoothly than the rest of the words he'd used. "We will sssing the Ancesstors of Flame and to the. Ssspirits of the World."
Rhodes chuckles a bit and nods, "Yes, if I am going to take the chance, I need to learn as many songs from as many cultures as possible."