God Talk
Tenebrae - Wednesday, December 21, 2016, 6:11 AM
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--<* W01: Wilderness Pointe *>--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
Wilderness Point is the last-ditch point of civilisation before the great northern woods. It stands as a last bastion of trade, and a hub of activity between hunters, traders, and townsfolk.
A fairly wide path, flanked on either side by shallow ditches and tall trees, makes its way into the village from the southern roads, whose borders are outlined by a low stone wall. Sections of the wall have fallen apart here and there. At this point, it's more of a decoration than anything else.
The largest building in the village is an inn, a sign hanging over its door reading 'Wayfarer's Inn'. Its stone chimney has a thin wisp of smoke drifting off into the sky overhead.
At the center of the town is the Hunter's Market, beyond which the town ends along the river's banks, with the ferry providing passage to the other side.
Mocharaos is out and about near the Hunter's market, the druid walking along with censer dangleing from a short chain. Its starting to smell a bit like yule, with woods and herbs all being burned together in the small ceramic ball. The Sith'makar inspecting the various things for sale as she walks.
Munch wanders out from the woods, a spider leg draped over his shoulder. A ten foot long spider leg. The remains of the spider torso bumps along behind him, fairly intact.
An unusual pair slowly approuch the Pointe, heading towards the market. A Sylvanori wearing white camouflaged winter gear riding on the shoulder of a snow covered... tree. The large tree slowly walks through the snow, as if in no hurry to get where it is heading.
Mocharaos looks over towards Munch and the big leg, giving a faint smile. "Bountiful harvest Hunter?" she asks with a faint grin, tail thumping the ground lightly. She lets that censer swing free as she gives a nod to the Sylvanori as well.
Munch ehs, and shrugs. "Stupid things keep trying to eat me. Thought they'd be dormant in the cold, but guess not." He peers at the censer. "What are you cooking? Smells interesting." Says the guy with no nose.
The Tree and Elf pause when they're within ten feet of Mocharaos and Munch, the Sylvanori female peering down from ten feet off the ground. She watches without saying a word, a hand casually on her bow the other resting next to the quiver of arrows. The act seems natural, like her hands belonged there by default.
Mocharaos just smiles. "A little offering to the Hunter. Pine and clove. Something to keep the market smelling good too." the Sith'makar shaman giving a nod, "But, eat or be eatten, I am glad you were not the one made into a meal." She turns to look up at the other two, giving a wave. She's rather short for one of her species, barely over five feet tall. "Hail hunter! May you find safe travels and hit what you aim for."
Munch nods. "Pine is good, clove is good, never had them together. What do you cook them with?" He doesn't get it.
The pair just seems content to stand in the falling snow, watching the others interact as if finding the whole thing strange or fascinating.
Mocharaos gives a little tail thump, impatient as she says "Not cooking, offering!" her voice still bright and cheery. "To the gods, well, to the Hunter, and its a good thing." she says.
Munch buzzes softly. "...my name is Munch, and I'm not a god. Not a full one anyway, demi, tops." Mocha did call him 'Hunter' earlier... some confusion lingers.
Until now the Sylvanori has remained silent, but in a raspy voice says "You are no god." Her eyes narrow at the claim of even semi-divine status.
Mocharaos gives a little nod. "You are a hunter, yes? Spiders?" she says, "I pray to The Hunter. May his wisdom guide us." a soft thump of her tail again, "You might call him Gilead? A strange name for sure."
Munch nods to the tree lady. "Certainly not one of the big ones. No constalition in the sky for me. Have met a few who claimed to be gods. Ate most of them."
The Sylvanori seems to find this offensive and replies in her raspy voice "This makes you no god."
Mocharaos gives a little shrug, as she says "It's okay! It's yule time! Everyone should be merry and good." a faint smile as she bobs that censer about, as she takes a few steps towards the market.
Munch nods, absently hikng up the remains of the spider to rip the final leg off, handing the torso to a passing gnome, who seems to have some clue what to do with it. Soup, maybe? "I've been told 'you are what you eat'. But what exactly makes one a god? Serriel has not always been. Animus died. Heth is powerful. Assimut was worshiped. Where does the line between god and not god lay?" His face splits open, and row upon row of adamantine fangs clamp down on the end of the spider leg, drawing it in the Maw and grinding it to bits.
The Sylvanori gestures to her tree mount and the tree turns, walking away from the market to disappear into the falling snow.
Mocharaos looks to Munch and gives a nod, "Maybe, but, you are not my god. Is very easy." she says, "You do not have the blood of dragons in you. So, is not worth fighting over." she says with a faint shrug.
Munch blinks with a sharp click. "But I do. The heart of a dragon. I don't think it was taken whole, pretty sure was built from the parts of many dragons. I wasn't awake for that part. But I do have dragon breath."
Mocharaos tilts her head to the side, "So, you are claiming you are a god...thing because others shoved bits of dragons into you? I'm pretty sure you become a god through actions and greatness." she tilts her head to the other side, now just confused.
Eilrie has left.
Munch shakes his head. "Nah, think most of the gods don't have dragon bits. Know a few turn into dragons, but not all of them. Maybe. Guess they could if they watnted to. But no, don't think I'm a god. Might some day get called a demi-god, never been really sure just what that means. Less than a full god, but more than a regular person? How much more? Lots of stuff I don't know."
Mocharaos gives a faint smile at that. "Just need to have people start following you, and do some divine things to bless people. And have something we can pray to you for." she says, "Maybe one day, you can be real dragon, and claim being a god, or demi-god, or whatever you want to be."
Munch fehs. "If they're stupid enough to follow me, they're too stupid for me to want them. They should forge their own path, or find some god who wants a line of ducklings behind them. If they want to look to me for insperation or advice, that's different. But my path is for me. For them is their own path."
Mocharaos grins, leaning in, and if she can, boops Munch where a nose would be. "And that is why you are not a god." Her tail happily swinging from side to side behind her.
Munch buzzes. "Kor is a god. I do not follow Kor, but look to him in respect. Kor would not want me to follow him, for I do not need to be where he is going."
Mocharaos gives a little shrug and grins before she says "Maybe we define gods differently! I'm quite happy with my own. Happy hunting hunter!" she says with a few more happy tail thumps, censer swinging as she moves.
Munch nods. "I am content. Fare well little cook." He still doesn't quite understand the censer.