Clearing the Dust

The nobility district. Perhaps, more correctly, the outskirts of it, where the homes are likely slightly less ostentatious and/or opulent than those nearer to the Castellum. Some are even less so than the norm, given that they are missing a few decorative details: no protruding ornaments, gargoyle-like roof drains, windows, possibly even a wall or door here or there.

Much of the missing items, or what remains of them, litters the street adjacent to the respective buildings. Several carts are parked nearby, into which the debris is being loaded by numerous hands... and claws. Un'eth is among those hefting splintered wood and cracked stone, filling the one cart that is not currently hitched to a horse, mule, or other beast of burden.

Un'eth is not the only sith-makar working to clean up the mess. Zeke roams the street, offering refreshments to those working, and a bit of healing where workers have strained themselves or gotten themselves injured in other ways. Construction is dangerous work, and not everyone on the street today is a trained professional in that arena. In fact most are volunteers.

As Zeke pauses slightly down the street from Un'eth, the blue-scale notices the other sith-makar and makes his way slowly toward her. He doesn't stop handing out water from the bucket that he's carrying, but he changes his course subtly to take himself to her. "Peasssce on your nessst. Thiss one isss glad to ssee you helping Un'eth. Would you like sssome water?"

Somewhat like water, scales tend to shed dust better either than clothing and hair, as well. Un'eth may not appear as debris-decorated as others, but she still thirsts. After dropping a stone, she turns and thumps her tail (sparking a small cloud). "Peace on your nest and, yes."

She accepts the offered drink and gulps it down promptly. "They should not build their homes so close together," she suggests, "but they will stand again all the same."

Zeke glances at one of the buildings nearby and shakes his head. "Thissss one hass grown usssed to it nearly. Bessidesss, the sstructuress of homesss in our villagesss are often so clossse together." Admittedly with wide swaths of land all around them however. Something that Alexandria at least can boast of, but it is no 'village'. "Thisss one isss glad to sssee sso many who are making effortsss to fix what wass desstroyed. It isss good to ssee Alexandria come together for a common, good causse."

Un'eth looks over to the others working. "If this were Mictlan, or a village of The People, it would be rebuilt and stronger, already. It is good to see, but there could be many more." Her snout turns and flicks to an upper floor nearby, and some admiring the work from a window. "Some only watch, or do nothing at all. With all that happens, now, more is needed."

"Thisss one doess not dissagree." Zeke says softly, looking at his bucket and drawing a cupful for himself to drink. His own work has left him quite parched as well, and he is glad of the refreshment. "Thisss one can not underssstand the fasscination that the sssoft-ssskinss sseem to have with watching but doing no-thing. Thisss one hass half a mind to encourage them to action, but thisss one thinksss the wordss would fall on deaf earsss."

Un'eth looses a light snort. It might have been more forceful, but she may have curtailed to limit caste-ing all softskins the same. That, or she simply wishes to not create a new dust cloud. "I followed fiends to the mountains here, to the cities magic weapon..." her snout flicks along the Redridge to the north. "Two, three summers past. They did nothing. They may only rise up in unity when they see danger within the walls."

Now she snorts more fully, as she has some rather solid empirical proof of that. The exhale quickly wanes, though. "By then, it may be too late."

"Yesss. Thisss one fearsss that there iss more danger in what iss not sseen perhapss." Zeke seems discomforted by his own words and shifts his weight. "Though demonsss are vissible, their mechanisssmss are not alwaysss, and thiss one ssseemss intent upon divisssion and feeding our worssst impulsssess."

Suddenly he looks at Un'eth, a burning question in his eyes. "Why did you transssform into a dragon, Un'eth? With Daed already dead... why did you do ssuch?"

"He was dead," Un'eth agrees, adding, "or so we believed. The one with Coyote's face, Sabina, made him unseen with her magic, so we could not see him. His attacker was not finished, and turned to us. The others fled."

A pause and a fresh mild exhale. "It would be foolish to abandon him, if he was thought so vital. I am shaman, not warrior, but sought to delay the fiend-mul. He was retrieved, and she was delayed.”

Zeke shakes his head, still not truly understanding it. He puts the cup back in the bucket and looks at Un'eth. "Thisss one doess not underssstand, perhapss you could explain it to thiss one?"

"Dragons an awe-some presence, and sense far more keen than most any other," Un'eth explains. "With those gifts, I found the fallen one and gave the attacker pause." Her tail flicks as she acknowledges the truth, "Not a wise choice in narrow streets, but I am not accustomed to standing in narrow streets, Zeke. A few broken sticks and stones seemed a low cost. Others do not agree."

Zeke thinks about this for a moment and then nods once. "Thisss isss ssenssse. Thisss one knowss that the scity isss a new enviroment for you." He shifts his tail behind him and nods low to her. "And you make amendsss, by trying to fix what wasss dessstroyed. A thing which few othersss in your posssition do. Thisss one iss grateful for thisss."

Un'eth bobs her head in return. "What is reaped or reaved should be re-sown. Ea provides all, but is not infinite without care. There is a balance." Her claws gesture about them. "I do not care to stay within the city long, nor as much for it as others, but I do not wish it destroyed. Unlike the land outside the walls, it will not regrow on its own."

"Thisss one undersstandss thisss." Zeke offers, shifting his weight from foot to foot. "Thisss one sshould return to handing out water. Thisss one wisshess you well ass you continue your effortsss to repair the damage." He wags his tail at her.

"Ssa. Should a softskin thirst too greatly, they would complain loudly," Un'eth comments with a light hiss; that sound, her posture and swaying tailtip all indicate humor rather than ire. She eyes the cart and decides that it is full enough to be moved before adding, "Peace on your nest," in farewell.

The lack of beast does not trouble her as she moves to, and slips her shoulders through, the simple tack harness attached to the cart. She then adjusts into it as her form alters into... a donkey. Just a donkey. Nothing threatening here... although, she is a rather big ass. Perhaps that will simply help her to better blend in with the natives of the district.

-End