Stickball
Tenebrae - Saturday, November 15, 2014, 11:43 PM
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=<* Roleplay Nexus: Rune *>=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
Ah, Rune.
Rune is the "City of Magic." It certainly looks the part. The cityscape is dotted with wizards' towers, each stretching higher and higher in to the sky in an ever present rush to outdo each other. It is full of flying people and things rushing to and fro. The city itself is ringed by a great wall, and dominated by a central tower that once served as the seat of the Conclave, but now serves as the heart of the Parliament of the Magi.
Today, the citizenry of Rune still conducts its business with all the urgency a city under siege might expect. People are drilling in the streets, preparing for the possibility that Dran might break the mighty walls that have endured so much. The damage done by the attack of the dragons that supposedly served Heth is still being repaired, but quickly, and it won't be long before all traces of it are gone. Magic can do a lot. Their clothing is still outlandish, even when practical--tailors with the blessing of arcane can do some unusual things. Rune, by any measure is just...odd.
The city of Rune is, perhaps, smaller than one might expect. It builds /up/, rather than 'out', with all manner of geometry and architecture defying buildings becoming possible because, well... /wizards/. And sorcerers. Arcanists, all.
Cesran comes out of the Candy Store and he looks around, "Good everything is still standing." He says as he has his talking magical staff with him. "Well that'a miracle." Cesran snorts and laughs a bit, "Sometimes I think you are right."
Munch buzzes a cheerful tune to himself. Well, not so much a 'tune' as 'random notes'... the metal man is pretty tone deaf... which for a guy without ears, is understandable... Anyway, he's off by the city wall, sort of playing stickball by himself. Except the stones he's hitting are pretty big, and that's an axe, not a bat.
When one is as interested in stories as Gorag and he sees a man with a talking staff go by, well one must follow and see where that person goes and what happens. "That is an interesting passageway. We are in a new city now you say," the giantborn asks of Cesran as the come out of the Candy Store.
Cesran smiles at Munch, "Hello there Munch." He moves over towards him, "Sharpening your axe?" He wonders curiously and his staff nods to Munch, "Hello Munch." Cesran looks over at Gorag, "Yes this is the city of Rune one of the greatest cities in the World and the most magical."
SHUNK! ... SHUNK! ... *wiff* ... SHUNK! ... *wiff* ... SHUNK! ... -WOOM!-
Munch tosses rocks up into the air, shifting stance as they fall to slice at them as they come down. A few are missed, but most connect, splitting the stones with the large adamantine blade. It's a simple pattern, until one cut stone bursts in a wave of magical force, turning into dust with a roar of power.
"Ha! -Finally- you get it right!"
"Would be easier if you could hit a simple rock every time."
"Bah, all you're doing is cutting. I'm the one who has to do all the real work."
Cutting off his conversation with... his axe? Munch looks to Cesran and company. "Oh, hey! No, already sharp. We're working on vaporizing stones!"
"Disentigrating, not vaporizing. I told you, there's a difference."
Gorag looks from Munch and his axe to Cesran and his staff. "I did not realize such things were so common. Did you both gain them from the same place perhaps?"
Cesran blinks as he sees the axe turn the rock into dust, "Yes it's definitely a disentigrating the rock, vaporizing it would be turning it into a gas state. Although I am curious where you did get it from." He looks to Gorag, "I made mine and through the components I used she gained sentience." The staff snorts, "My name is Ral-sara and yes I was crafted by Cesran, but I am more then the sum of my parts."
Munch blinks with a soft click. "Well, I got the material for Reaver from a fallen star I chased down. I hadn't ment for the thinking and talking, that just sorta happened."
"Meaning there was enough material built up I was able to move out. It's nice not having to share a brain."
The handel of the axe is wrapped with layers and layers of leathery skin...
Gorag hrms softly as he looks from Munch to Cesran... well softly for him. It is somewhat of a loud rumble. "Interesting indeed." Focusing on the mechanical one he asks, "Was it a long chase? Did you see the star as it fell or did you just hear about it? And did you come from the stars?" The last question /may/ be directed at the intelligent axe.
Cesran smiles, "Interesting, so it's an extention of yourself Munch?" He asks curiously, "Ral-sara's intelligence I believe comes from the wood that I used for her. I was gifted a living piece of darkwood from the druids near Alexandria, that combine with the magics that I've poured into her to make her stronger."
Munch shakes his head. "Wasn't a long chase. I happened to see the star fall, and ran to the spot. Wasn't a lot there, but enough to get started on the crafting. As for Reaver..." The golem hesitates a few moments.
"Our makers gave us goals to strive towards. There's different ways to get there. The big lug focused on his physical aspect, but neglected his magical side. Me. I'm what he would have been, had he focused on magic over physical might. And I don't like being neglected. So I moved out. Not the idea body, I admit, but I'm working on it."
"WE'RE working on it. I help."
"I see," rumbles Gorag. "Not much of a story by itself, but perhaps if I learn of other talking weapons I can put something together that chronicles their tales." He pauses and hums softly before chanting a few words about living Darkwood and fallen stars. His gaze has focused on a far off point and he seems to have forgotten those nearby for the moment. Odd fellow... or typical bard.
Cesran smiles, "Perhaps our weapons are new, they have not yet been handed down through the ages, but the making of Ral-sara follows a tradition that is as old as Rune itself. I come from the Jade Islands in one of their costal cities on the main island of Esentra. On that island there is still an Academy of Sages where young children who have a gift for magic are taught, it is a tradition that when a wizard reaches a certain circle of spells that they construct a staff to reflect their power and themselves, some collect rare woods and exotic crystals while others are content with simple staves huen by their own hand. There have been other intelligent staves throughtout history, but they are rare and more often then not the stories merely attribute the staff's prowess to that of the wizard. I hope that one day both Ral-sara and I will be the stuff of legends."
Munch buzzes in amusement. "Oh, you havn't heard the whole story, just the bullet-points of the relivant part. Most people get bored with the whole thing. Know I do."
"Small mind, short attention span. This is why I wanted out." Munch buzzes again, and returns the axe to it's place on his back. Not taht such will slow Reaver down any, it's just as loud. In the space between his wings, the skin of Munch's back quicvers a moment, and grows, forming a thin layer over the handel of the axe, holding it firmly in place. Which certainly explains the build-up on the handel.
Gorag is brought back to this reality and he blinks a few times. "Ah yes. I must get the name correct. Ral-sara. And Reaver, yes? Perhaps another time you can share the full story. I do not tire of hearing stories, though some times others tire of me telling them." He grins at that. "That does not stop me from singing them though. It would be much worse to let the stories fall into oblivion and be lost." Turning to Cesran he adds, "I do not mean to belittle your accomplishment, and it is good to hear that it is a long tradition that is followed by many. But I concern myself more with the stories that are not told, the ones that may be lost."
Cesran smiles, "No offense is taken and Ral-sara is just a shortened verison of her name. It's rather lenghty and in Draconic. I have it written down in one of by books, if I find it I'll give it to you." Ral-sara snorts, "You know perfectly well what it means, you can memorize almost two dozen spells, but can't remember my real name." Cesran rolls his eyes, "Ral-sara, you should know that especially in a city such as this real names have real power and I would not want to lose you."
Munch blinks softly for a few moments. "...we don't really do names. My 'real' name is 'Protype Test Unit 41B-27A' or something... I never bothered to remember. It's just noises people use to indicate me. It doesn't define who or what I am."
Gorag hmmmmmmmms. "Names are such odd things. Real ones can have power but what is a real name?" He shakes his head and leaves that for another time. "Names may not define who you are but they can be useful for telling one person, ah, being apart from another."
Cesran hmms, "Well it's important to know why a person calls themselves, it can reveal a bit about who a person really is, some more than others." He looks to Gorag and Munch, "So is this your first time in the city of Rune. I'd be careful if I were you Munch, please don't hurt the wizards who would want to take you apart with the promise of putting you back together, they're passion for magical research sometimes interferes with their common sense."
Munch fehs and blinks with a soft click. "Oh yeah, I've put up with that sort of thing for years. I don't mind answering some questions, it's the poking and proding I don't like. The wizards can get a little pushy sometimes, but it's the Artificers that get really insistant about it. Most are pretty polite about it all, but those that are too dumb to understand why it's annoying are also pretty easy to distract or trick."
Gorag nods. "I have not been to Rune yet. I have not been many places outside my homeland. My journeys have just begun as they say." Grimacing at the comments about taking Munch apart he adds his two copper. "A sound drubbing would not be amiss if some are too insistent. Some people are just too sure their way is the only way. Hmph."
Munch blinks at Gorag. "Well yeah. That's the trick. Make them think I'd actually kill them if they tried anything. Usually a few bruises is plenty."
"Indeed," says Gorag with a chuckle. "And sometimes if you are lucky, just the threat is enough. I find that is the case with the smaller ones."