Krom meets Bitr
Tenebrae - Thursday, March 03, 2016, 8:43 AM
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=<* A10: Temple District *>=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
The air of solemn, heavy divinity in the area is often broken by laughter. The dual presence of the deities Althea and Daeus, man and wife, stand towards the center, with their children and their children's temples positioned around them. The presence of the divine is felt not only by their temples, but also by the actions of their worshipers. The great plaza is as a social center, paved in brilliant, white flagstones and covered in benches and sitting areas. Priests, acolytes, and servicefolk of all stripes roam the plaza, going from one task to the other.
At the front of the temples of Daeus and Althea, at the Plaza's centermost point, rests a great fountain, the cheerful waters reflecting the Sun during the day, and the Moon and Stars at night. The fountain is strategically centered, and is oft a place for wisdom and lesson-giving. It is not uncommon for a priest of some stripe or the other to stand there, surrounded by the curious and faithful, delivering messages of hope or contemplation. At other times, it and the plaza become a landscape of celebration of the holy holidays.
Few vendors are seen in the plaza--the nearby temples provide most food or services. Towards the west, the great Bridge stretches across the river, and towards the east, the Redridge mountains. The plaza rests in the midst of it all, the temples massive and grand on the Alexandrian scale.
The sights!
The sounds!
The meaningless scribbles!
A large city is no place for the reckless, and even less of a place for a wildling - but here she is none the less. The mighty Bitr, astride her pony-sized dog - Dog. The massive lump of matted white fur occasionally poking a black nose out of what one can only assume is the head, snuffing the air while Bitr rubber necks through the thin morning mist. By khazard standards, it's already going to be a sweltering day - so the oversized canine begins loping forward rapidly when it spots the artful fountain. Tongue wagging.
Krom lounges upon the fountain, enjoying the warm weather, with the sun high over head, instead of near the horizon. Southlands are weird. Southlanders are weird. And weird is that... whatever it is comming towards him. Some sort of snow-beast? No, that's fur, not snow... maybe the lucht can help? "Krom greets... fuzzy one, and rider. Krom has not seen you before." A long look. "...Krom would remember."
The wild halfling glances aside to Krom, her small chin lifted high. Which isn't hard atop the pony sized dog named Dog, since the bloody thing is so big. And speaking of which, front paws go over the lip of the fountain, and the head dips into water. A slushed lapping sound ensues as little dreds of matted white hair float around what is probably the canine's mouth, while Bitr slides off the side and hits the ground with calloused bare feet. She considers Krom a bit more, before speaking - her own tradespeak archaic and out of form.
"Mine is not surprised, for rare is the sight of a true Giantborn among the souther lands, aye?" She begins, drawing her under-three-foot-frame up. "Ye are greeted in kind; May thine enemies blister and spoil, and glory to thy stead, Master Krom."
The nun looks up at the two approaching humanoids: One small, one not so small. Both wonderful creatures, she is sure. "Greetings, brothers," she says, in a cracking, warm voice.
Krom blinks slowly. "Aye, the true sons of the mountain are rare in the southlands, though Krom has met a few." Glancing towards the nun, he blinks again. "...Krom think Hearthlady is mistaken. Krom has no sister. Aunt, maybe, grandma got around."
Bitr's attention shifts to the nun - and then she looks behind her. Brother? And then back to the nun, before making the obvious assumption. The old bat was blind. Shifting her tiny jaw a bit, the halfling speaks again. "Hail and well meet, Mother.." She squints for a moment, trying to pick out something that stands out on the old woman. ".. Staff." She finishes. And then asides to Krom.
"Mind thy tongue, Master Krom. Mother Staff's eyes may be skewed, aye?"
"Mother?" The nun looks at the two of them carefully. She understands their confusion. "No, I am a /Sister/. Althea has not blessed me with the calling of leadership, and I am not a Mother of my order. My name, for what it is worth, is Sister Diemma."
Krom considers a few moments, and shrugs. "Krom Linnbane, of Mestnorr." Glancing to Bitr, he shrugs again. "So long as ears work, all is good."
The barbaric lucht looks even more confused for a moment, before pushing such thoughts aside. Her head had no room for big thoughts! "Mother Diemma, then. But.. " Here, her face screws up again. "Mind ye, what be yon Althea?" And then she looks to Krom - and double takes. Before squinting an eye.
Bitr says "You are from the deepest cold? Glorious! I did not think to meet more than a few from the line of my father!" <jotun>
And back to tradespeak again. "Mine is called Bitr; The blood of giants flows strong in mine heart, and the mountains tremble beneath my heel!"
Krom blinks once more, looking to Bitr before clasping a hand to his chest and nodding in respect. He hesitates, glancing to the southlander, and continues in Tradespeak. "Krom is of the Great Valley, upon the edge of the frozen sky. Founded by Alric, son of Kreig Dranei."
"Mine feet are rooted in yon khazard mountain, and mine crown grown beneath its bitter winds. Glory to thine father's father." States Bitr, mimicing the motion with a tiny, hardened fist across her small chest. There is one last great slurp as the snow dog finishes, shaking itself, water dribbling from its hidden jowls and down matted fur. With a 'hyup', the halfling once more clambers back up.
"Mine path carries me away, O Brother. Another day is happier for the meeting, aye?"
Krom nods, and motions vaugely west-ish. "Krom stays near the Arena, can be found there, or word of where have gone. Another day, Bitr, who trembles mountains."
Squeezing Dog's sides with her knees - because who needs imagination when you've got a head like stone? - the barbarian nods her respects and moves along to the west. After all, Krom -had- said 'arena'...