Oruch Chili

Lower Trades District - Goblin Side: Goblintown Entrance

It's mid-day, and the district is busy. Sounds of crafters at work fill the air with a thick hum and reverberation of skill and effort. Hammers, shuffling, sorting, and stacking. All kinds of jobs and labor are on display today, each coming with a unique addition to the atmosphere.

Pirkko stands off behind the lines of crafters, a lit pipe held loosely in hand. The goblin with a light hue just watches the hustle from a distance. Her red-yellow eyes wandering from worker to produced good, and then a pull of her pipe is taken. No words, just quiet goblin time among the mess.

Making his way through the mess of people and crafts which they are peddling, is a half-ourch of fairly considerable size. His armor has seen some better days, which has a few of the merchants calling out to him about their wares. He seems fairly immune to their quest to gather his attention however, and stops only at a stall selling something that's been offered up as 'Ourch Chili'. By the smell of it, it's as spicy as it is uncertain in origin, but he grins toothily at the offering and pays for it without complaint. A moment later he's leaned against the stall - after first ensuring that it'll hold his weight.

"Really?" comes a squeak of a voice from Pirkko, the amused grin taking her face as she blows some smoke away from the crowds direction. It might not be clear she's talking to Razen. She doesn't move closer, but from the seat they chose, it does make them the closest to where the small woman stands. "Just here for the chili?"

"I come here for many things, but the chili is never the first." This idea of priority enough to make her shake her head. "I was sure you'd be looking for something else. The adventuring sort?"

It does indeed take a moment for Razen to realize that he's being spoken to, and then to realize exactly who's doing the speaking. Pirkko gets a double-blink and then he holds the bowl out to her, his breath steaming in the cold. The chili does similarly. "Have you tried it? It is SO worth coming out here for." He laughs and then shrugs his shoulders. "I suppose I am at that. What about you? You do any adventuring?"

"One could argue it's adventuring." Pirkko says, the tone unsure, but there is some thought there. "Conditions. I am only recently in the city's employ?" she tests the words, nodding. "Yes. Before that, Pirkko simply worked on ships and followed wagons." another smile offered as a hand waves off the food. "I have had it a few times. Just not this day." A small box is taken from her pocket as she speaks, opened, and there she dumps the content of her pipe, snuffing it.

"Ah, they'll have you fighting this, that, and the other in no time." Razen states, sounding enthusiastic as he takes back his chili and digs into it. He seems to enjoy the concoction, and after a moment of chewing continues. "Why, I've only been in their employ a short time myself but I've faced all sorts of things. Mostly though, it's the demons and devils you have to look out for." He nods at this.

"Not my sects particular specialty." Pirkko's eyes giving Razen a somewhat skeptical glance. "Let's not talk religion though. I'm in enough trouble." the woman muses, a chuckle coming thick as she looks back towards the crowd after stowing her pipe and box. "Economics, that's today's lesson." flashing the larger man a grin.

"Though when the fighting comes, I suspect I am learned well enough to be of some use." Pirkko adds in a softer tone. "So, Alexandria home?" making an attempt to change subjects.

Razen looks at Pirkko curiously when she mentions religion. He's not overly familiar with the gods in general, and wouldn't have recognized a member of their clergy if one was sitting across from him talking to him. "All's I know about is Angoron." He eats some more of his chili and then answers her question with a laugh. "Not at all. I'm from the far, far north. Where it's so cold that it makes the winters here feel like summer. How about you? Where do you hail from?"

Pirkko can't help but flash a grin at Rizen's glance. "I know little of Angoron, other than what is common." an appraising glance cast up and down the Oruch. "Pirkko Maldova." a humanish-name given. "Raised by Radans." offering her own origin.

"From where am I? That's not a known question, but where I wound up, and who raised me. That's what I can give you." again, Pirkko nodding to her own words. "So, you mentioned demons? They so common?"

The half-ourch eats his chili, and then looks down at his bowl as if something is wrong with it. Which it is. It's empty now. He sighs mournfully and then puts his spoon in the bowl and promptly forgets about both. "Razen." He offers his own given name and then hesitates. "Diharth."

Ourch names, suggesting ourch origins. Which one might have guessed by the tattoo through his left eyebrow. "Sounds like you've quite a story to tell." He grins, clearly interested, and then grins even more fiercely at the mention of demons. "Not so common, but more common here than anywhere I know of. And they're tricksy buggers. Mess with your mind if you're not careful." He taps his forehead.

"Heavy names lose their weight with time." Pirkko reasons with a soft tone. "The city is full of people trying to shed the past, and enough effort is always noticed." her squeaky voice prattling on. "As is the lack of it. Trust me." a cautious and knowing tone coming with a laugh. "If it wasn't for my collogues and The Father, I wouldn't be allowed to stand even here." she admits with a shrug. "Got a bit of temper. My people like to poke fun at some things. I don't find it funny. I think you can figure the rest out. We all got problems."

There's a long, confused blink from Razen and then embarrassment. "Wait." He looks around nervously. "Do you speak... Yrch-Speak?" His cheeks are suddenly colored oddly; his disposition secretive.

"None. I just guessed. When someone looks upset to give their name, it is not something to overlook." Pirkko admits, blinking to the Ourch's response. She shifts, arms crossing before her chest. "Language isn't the only form of communication. A lesson for another day, though." another small laugh hefted as her pointed teeth are flashed. "Today was economics. More, estimation and market analysis, but economics at its core."

"I was... I was born Razen Vulkakhson." He seems to have mixed feelings about this admission. Pride and shame in equal measure share space on his features and it's clear that just from the last few moments that he's none to used or skilled in hiding his emotions. "But I took up another surname when I left home. It didn't seem right to... leave my family and take the name with me."

Razen's eyes skitter sideways, but he takes a breath and meets her gaze after a moment. "That's behind me now though. Call me Vulkakhson if you will." He nods politely to her.

"That answers some questions, but means very little to me." Pirkko's words more confused as she thinks on Razen's words. She shrugs her shoulders, letting her arms free to drop at her side, crossing towards where he was eating. "There is more to you than a name. But to deny it being part of you is also not healthy. I think you walk a hard path to find balance and acceptance of yourself." the words simply blunt, but not mean. "So, worry not of such things here. You will be Razen. I will be Pirkko. Two adventurers. Yeah?" offering a small hand after a few steps. "Make the name your own."

He seems to approve of this greatly, if the huge smile that splits his face is any indication. Razen takes her hand easily and pumps it once. His grip is firm, but not so tight that he seems to be testing her strength. Instead it's a measured, comfortable thing. "That sounds fine by me Pirkko! May Angoron fill our path with the deadly and the dangerous so that our names sing to the heavens!" He laughs.

A grin breaks out on the pistachio-hued woman's lips. Her shake is fairly dainty in comparison, but the attempt was made. "Well, maybe not the deadly, but I like the sentiment." she muses, bobbing her head as she paces a few steps away. "Sorry about the advice, but it's easy for a Radan to see the storm in you. Looking to balance it, that I see as a noble thing." a wink shot to the larger man. "Something I still struggle with."

Razen puffs up a little, pleased to have been complemented. "Thank you! I like the sound of that - storm inside!" He grins. "I know that not many would welcome a deadly challenge, so I do not think less of you for being wary, but in truth Pirkko... It's when you place life and limb on the line that you come to truly know yourself. This storm inside you struggle with, it is a test! I am certain that one as brave as you will come out the mightier."

"Brave? Not at all." Pirkko's laugh more a crackle as she flushes with a grin. "There is some degree of bravery, depending on how you define it. I just think that things can't sit the same forever. If change happens anyways, might as well try to shape it to your advantage?" she says with side-glance back to Razen. "Prepare for the storms."

Solemnly Razen nods his head. "Bravery. Is preparing for the storm, rather than running from it." He looks at Pirkko with a softer smile than before. "Besides, you've had oruch chili, and that is a treat that few are brave enough to withstand!" Now he's grinning again.

"It is tasty. The Father liked his food bland." Pirkko admits, her talk of 'The Father' suggesting it's a title. It has a formal quality to its use. "I had to often beg for hot sauces, and flavor." a mused tone coming with a smile. "He could handle none of it, but he was always good about letting use try new things."

"Anyways, that's not too important. What kind of work have you gotten into here?" Pirkko probes.

For a moment, Razen looks VERY confused. So he utters a question without thinking about it entirely before it comes out of his mouth. "The Father? You mean Rada? How do you know how he likes his food?" He's so VERY confused. He puts her hand on her shoulder to stall her a moment so that he can figure things out. "This is very important! How do you KNOW?"

"I..." Pirkko starts to speak, but is sent laughing as the sudden excitement caught her off guard. "No! I would imagine Rada must like the seafood, but 'The Father' is a human man. A little old in his years, but a priest of Rada all the same." she attempts to explain. "He devoted his life to raising the next generation, trying to influence the world in ways beyond the use of just his failing body." her tone dropping, growing a tad more quiet. "So, while we call him that, he is actually a lot like my father. But there are a lot of us like that."

"If any god would be 'The Father' I guess that would be Daeus."

Razen listens intently to her explanation, slowly relaxing and then nodding. "Ah. Yes. That makes sense." A furrow of the brow. "Though..." He does some more thinking. Clearly this isn't his best thing, but he does make an effort. "Ah, you were raised by a human!"

The half-orc smiles at his understanding and nods once. "Your birth-parents, they are in the Gray Halls then?" Razen seems somewhat more solemn at this thought, but he does not shy away from the asking.

Pirkko nods, looking slightly away as the connection of who raised her is made. "He is known as Father Cornelius Maldova." she answers.

"A don't go being all sad about it. They died before I could remember them." a hand waving at Razen and his solemn look.

"It's made things challenging in some regards, but I'd not trade it." Pirkko chimes, looking back out into the market. "Even with the storms and chaos that come with it."

Razen gives a half shrug, but notes the slight change in her behavior when she talks about her 'Father'. "You made it to now, and that is no small thing. But I've gone and made you sad. How can I make it up to you? A drink perhaps? Perhaps you'd care to wager a bet or two at the coliseum?" He grins here. "If you bet on me you're sure to win."

"Not sad." Pirkko corrects with another glance. "Contemplative. Thoughtful, even if of the past?" she muses again, sighing and looking back towards Razen. "You're fine. Really. Though drinks or a bit of a show? Good ideas." she admits, her attention on the market seeming less and less as they talk. "Do you often fight for.... oh, right. Angoron." her words spoken as if she answered her own question. She did. "Do you often win?" changing that question.

The half-ourch grins at Pirkko. "Well, I haven't been to the Gray Halls yet!" Razen laughs loudly at his own words and then shrugs. "There are a lot of powerful warriors here in Alexandria, so I have faced my share of defeats in honorable combat, or tests of strength. They remind me that there is room to grow and that one day I will become so strong as that! But yes, I very often win." This is no boast, but rather simple truth that he seems to feel no need to embellish. He hasn't been paying attention to the market in some time, which in this portion of town may or may not be terribly wise.

"I think this is just one of those things I won't understand." Pirkko's amusement peaking, a comb taken from a small pouch at her belt. She takes a moment with her next words, speaking carefully as she adjusts the plume of hair that's part of her mohawk. "I don't get a lot of joy from the fighting, but the growth I can relate with." bobbing her head. "But, we're all different. That's what makes it fun."

Razen's eyes light up, and he seems almost reverent. "There is nothing for me like the thrill of defeating a foe. Of pushing the limit of what I am capable of." He touches the heavy flail at his hip and the weapon jingles ominously in response. He looks down at it almost in surprise and then... shudders. The hand falls away from the weapon and he offers it instead to her. "Come, have a drink with me then, if you do not enjoy combat, we can share a pint and perhaps a few stories will be told."

"Sure. I have a few tales." Pirkko notes, the warm smile that's flashed coming after she'd glanced to his weapon. "I might not like the fighting, but I appreciate those who do." motioning for Razen to lead the way, taking that offer.

"I more help with the fighting. Make sure it goes the way it should. The storm of battle can be fierce, but light and reason can help those near you weather it." Pirkko's high tone amsued and rambling. "So, you said you liked to gamble?"

"Only on myself." Razen explains simply, leading the way toward the nearest drinking establishment. He might not know the whole of Alexandria like the back of his hand, but he can find the bars easily enough! "It seems... unsporting to spend money betting on someone else or on an animal. Particularly animals. They don't have a choice in being there. Does that make sense?" His brow is slightly furrowed in an attempt to explain his feelings on the matter.

"So you'd say that you'd play it safe unless you believed that you could do something more on your own? What if it were another asking you to risk something?" Pirkko asks, nodding to Razen's answer even as she speaks. She follows, treading quickly, and keeping good pace despite the crowds and size difference. It doesn't seem much impedes her, the advantage of a small stature.

"And rest assured, I don't bet on those who can't make their own decisions. Gambling comes only when chaos clouds the way." Pirkko muses. "Maybe we'll work together sometime. You're a curious one."

-End