Down in Goblintown

Log Info

• Title: Down in Goblintown
• Emitter: Elleandra
• Characters: Elleandra, Garak, Ashes, Xasany
• Place: A02: Goblintown
• Time: Sunday, May 03, 2020 3:27 PM
• Summary: Elleandra is chatting with Garak in Goblin town when Ashlee arrives. Her distinct appearance prompts questions about her occupation and then a short discussion about personality and vocation. While they are in discussion, Xasany the gnome appears and joins the group. Elly and Garak leave soon after while the other two continue talking about their mutual interests, which are being witches and flying. As Ash is late for work at her temple, Xasany flies her there.

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--<* A02: Goblintown *>=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

'Goblintown' consists of a dead-end street where a number of poor (and, as the name suggests, goblinoid) residents of the city live. Many of the buildings here have been cobbled together with whatever material was available at the time, often bits of metal and stone stolen from the factories to the north rather than wood. That said, in recent days, many of these temporary structures have been converted to more permanent fixtures, giving the area a less 'shanty' and more 'conventional' appearance, interspersed with the previously impoverished look the place was known for.

The occasional shrine to Reos seems to represent the only 'official' presence in the area, with the City Watch seeming all but invisible here. In their place, there appear to be numerous Arvek and Gobber groups that form a makeshift community watch, giving the sense of wary eyes on every street. From time to time, the symbol of Serriel may be seen as well, though mainly among the Arvek, who oft bear it with pride. Oruch shops sit alongside gobber ones, though the latter far outnumber the former; gobbos' nimble minds make them the natural crafters of the goblinoid world.

At one point there were few shops here, but now the entire area bristles with brisk trade of things ranging from basic necessities to the more esoteric magical and bits of artificery. It is said that one can find everything they need in Goblintown without having to step foot in another section of the city, and this statement, judging by the activity in this area night and day, may very well hold true.

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=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  Appearing, in Order  -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Elleandra    5'4"     108 Lb     Wild Elf          Female    Blue-haired, green-eyes, Sylvanori
Garak        5'10"    180 Lb     Hobgoblin         Male      Just a simple tailor...er Cleric, of Serriel 
Ashes        5'11"    177 Lb     Hobgoblin         Female    A somber arvec in grey clothes with a skull face
Xasany       3'6"     38 Lb      Gnome             Female    A gnome with green hair and black clothing.
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=

"Nice to meet you, Garak," replies Elleandra. "I haven't been here often before. I am trying to learn my way around the city. Which is proving more challenging than I would have expected, but perhaps knowing ones way around a forest and knowing the way around this place are simply different skills." She laughs gently and shrugs at her own challenges. "This place is different, and the little ones seem to like it when I give away sweets, so it's fun. And there are a lot of cats here, it seems."

An ashen Arvec Nar approaches, walking with very straight posture and slow steps. Goblins and gobbo children give her more space than they do most. She has a small radius others seem unwilling to enter. Her clothes are slacks, long shirt and a short jacket that originally were black but now have faded to grey. Her hair likewise, is a dark grey with lighter highlights. She also has a skull on her face, mostly tattoo, and part makeup and piercings. This grey hobgoblin resembles a small grim reaper, but in place of a scythe she's carrying a parasol. She comes up to Elleandra and Garak.

Garak nods in agreement. "Very different skills." He looks at Elleandra again. "Are you more at home in a forest then?" he guesses. "I'm afraid I am the opposite. Although for you to explore and learn about the city is inspiring." He turns his head towards Ashes as the latter approaches. "Greetings," he offers with a small incline of the head. "I'm Garak, priest of Serriel."

"I'm Ashlee, I prefer Ash," the grey arvec says, looking at Garak. Up close she smells like damp earth and has an unquiet aura. In addition to the parasol she has a battered satchel, "I'm a Mourner and a Messenger."

"Yes, the forest is a much more comfortable place," says Elleandra. "Or, well, the wilds, anyway. I am rather used to them. Though I must admit there are some perks about having a proper roof above one's head. And a warm bath is a wondrous luxury that is hard to find in the wilderness." She turns her attention to Ashlee and tilts her head slightly, "Well, I didn't expect to see you again! Perhaps I simply wasn't looking in the right place." She arches an eyebrow, "There's not a message for me, is there?"

Garak looks thoughtful. "Messenger?" he repeats. "I'm afraid I'm not familiar with the title..." his gaze shifts to Elleandra and probably recognizes that she's familiar with the both Ash and her occupation.

Ashlee shakes her head a small amount, looking at Elleandra and closing her eyes, "Not today, just heading to work." She doesn't smile, Arvec Nar generally don't. Her eyes are somewhat lively, looking about in the darkened skull-sockets of her decorations. She turns to look at Garak. Her motions are minimal and her hands are occupied, holding the closed parasol on one shoulder and the strap of her satchel with the other. "Not a title, a calling."

"What is your work?" asks Elleandra, getting curious. As her attention shifts, the cat in her lap loses interest and with a hop and a prolonged stretch, departs. The sylvanori watches it go with a small smirk. "That one comes for his bit of food and then he's off minutes later," she murmurs.

Garak nods to Ash in what might be understanding - or even approval - when she names it a calling. The question about her work makes him glance at Elleandra. Then he looks back at Ash to see how she answers.

"I prepare the bodies for their final rest. I keep them company. I sit with the family to give them support in their visitation. I listen, and help out the other servants of the Grey Lady." Ashlee explains. Her phrasing is very calm, very monotone, little inflection and she takes her time pronouncing the words. The wind flutters a strand of her hair across her face, across her eyes, and she casually pulls it back in place and tucks it behind her ear. She makes a small shrug of her shoulders, "At times I accompany adventurers and provide healing."

"Ah, I see," says Elleandra softly. "That sounds very important to me." The druid looks thoughtfully at the sky for a moment, shifting her attention to Garak, "What is your calling, Garak?" she asks suddenly. As she speaks, she rises to her feet, then dips into a curtsey, "There, that feels right now. Oh, and feel free to call me Elly. It's easier for everyone, I think."

Garak nods firmly in agreement when Elleandra says it sounds important. But...he seems a bit taken aback when she asks him is own calling. He takes a few moments to think of the right words. "I am a priest of Serriel," he finally answers. "Vanguards, we are called, just as the clerics of Vardama the Grey Lady are known as Mourners." He gives an almost tilt of his head towards Ash as he says this, but keeps his eyes on Elleandra, watching her perhaps to make sure he's not explaining things she already knows or is not interested in. "For many of us our calling is that of our Gods, although there is sometimes debate - do we gravitate to them because our natures are a fit for their dogma? Or do our natures change due to our work and our adherence to that dogma." He shrugs easily. It's an intellectual discussion for him and he's not concerned in either case - or if both are true. "And so in my case, to answer your question...Serriel is the Goddess of civilization, of the growth and cooperation of all goodly peoples. And, when necessary for that prosperity, of righteous warfare."

"It's like a bowl. You fit on the edge of one and the more you do the more you drop into the centre." Ashlee opines, nodding slowly. She glances upwards at the sun, then opens her parasol. It is grey, matching her clothes, although somewhat unexpectedly it has a repeating pattern of small decorative skulls on the fabric. The skulls are all very cute, with flowers. Ash angles it so she's in the shade.

The philosophical answer from Garak and Ashlee draw a nod of understanding from Elleandra. "We are what we do, and what we do shapes us? At least I feel that is part of the nature of living and acting. Not that it is unchangable, of course. It likely just becomes much harder to change as one becomes more and more used to being a particular way." She stands with Ashlee and Garak near a rather roughly crated home build of many salvaged materials. Seeing Elleandra is not offering food nor attention, a single black cat marks her left ankle with his cheek before darting off to something more interesting.

Garak permits himself another small smile. "Well said," he nods. "And what about yourself, Elly?" He says the nickname carefully, trying it out for himself to see if it really is easier (which of course it is). "Have you found a calling?" The smile turns into a smirk. "I have to admit, I find it somehow amusing to be even discussing in such a way, but now that we are here let's not leave anyone out."

Ashlee turns to stare at Elleandra. The cats seem to be avoiding her, much like the children, walking around her personal space. She spins the parasol, it rotates above her, then she's back to standing still and watching.

"I think I may have," says Elleandra. "But it is not a divine pursuit, though I would say Althea and Eluna might both approve. I have experiences a series of epiphanies due to recent events in my life. Particularly brought on when I made the choice to act and it resulted in unintended, even tragic consequences. It occurred to me that I am better off focusing on protecting the non-adventuring people of the city and the creatures of the nearby wilds, rather than trying to defeat great evils myself." She looks to the children and smiles, "My apologies if the little ones tend to come about me. I bring them cakes, and it's hard to wait politely when you are young." She divides her attention between Garak and Ashlee, "It's hard to wait for what is sweetest even when we are old, isn't it?"

From one of the taller buildings, a wee woman with long, green hair appears. She floats out from an old, and broken, window, and serenely begins to sink downwards towards the street. A small, grey Owl, perched on her shoulder, hoots at her and flies away, and she offers a wave to the creature as she alights upon the ground. Where she turns and heads towards the market stalls.

Garak's lips form a flat line. Could it be that he does not in fact sympathise with undisciplined children...or those with a sweet tooth? But when he next speaks there's hardly any difference in his even measured voice. "We all do what we can," he ackowledges. "But in my heart I know that these great evils you speak of, will not be defeated by any one single heroine. It will be the efforts of many." He hesitates and then turns towards Xasany. "Hello there," he smiles a small smile. "It is good to see you again." He looks off in the direction the owl flew off. "To see both of you," he amends.

"It doesn't matter to me. I am fine with waiting." Ashlee says, regarding the children and the sweets. She turns her head to watch the woman drift down and the owl fly off. She makes a nod in their direction. "I'm aware of the evils. I do what I can."

Elleandra lips twitch and eventually she laughs softly. "Well, not all of us are so patient, I suppose." She turns to put her back to the children. A moment later she is digging a few little packages from her pack and offering them behind her back. That's enough of an opening for the children to come up and surreptitiously take what has been offered, then dart off in laughter. "And now I'm all out of cakes for the day. But I'll likely be back tomorrow." More seriously she explains, "There are some things I must see to, friends. I hope you will pardon my abrupt departure. I promised someone to join them this day, and I have something to do before I do."

"Ah, I remember you, how have you been?", the Gnome wonders of Garak. She eyes the two the Arvek speaks with and offers them a polite smile and a small wave.

Garak raises a hand in farewell as Elleandra departs. He spares a stern look at departing children, but even the few who do catch it seem completely unphased. "I am well," Garak replies to the gnome. Then he adds, "This is Ashlee." He gestures towards the other Arvek. "Or 'Ash'. Ash, this is Xasany," he glances after Elleandra. "Earlier I was telling someone how many other peoples besides Gobbers and 'Goblinoids' have taken up living here. And how good it is, for all of us."

Ashlee nods at Xasany. She adjusts her parasol, then her bag. Her clothes are loose and flutter in the street breezes. The arvec herself stands still, watching. "The rooms are right for me. The walk to the temple is nice."

Xasany snorts and grins. "Oh I don't know about you taller folk, many of the buildings have doorways that are not properly sized for you. Watch your heads is the best advice one can give for living here." She offers a wave to Ashlee, "Hello, nice to meet you. Oh, which temple do you visit?"

Garak nods along as he listens to the two speak. He seems to grow distant at the word temple. Then he finally he says, "Excuse me, but I must be on my way as well. I am giving a riding lesson at the temple soon." He casts a quick look in the direction he last saw the children earlier. "For many of the students, it will be their first time on a horse. I must prepare...myself as well as the horses." He waves in farewell and then heads off down the street to where a sturdy looking warhorse is standing patiently. The two seem to greet each other and then stride off to the south.

"The Temple of Vardama. I'm a Mourner." Ashlee says. She speaks in a very monotone and quiet voice, exactly the kind one would expect as a grieving family member. Her clothes are on the shabby side, so she's not likely a high ranking one. She doesn't return the nod but does incline her head to view Xasany. She nods to Garak, watches as he heads off, then looks back at Xasany, "The doorways are fine. I get my exercise ducking."

Xasany giggles lightly at Ash's humour, "Indeed, as I often exercise my neck for having to look up all the time at people and things taller than I." She gestures with a delicate hand to the woman's clothes. "I was going to guess if you were one of Lady Vardama's adherents, your clothing is thematic. While I am not one of her priests, though I suppose in a way I am... I follow Eluna. Are you new to Alexandria?"

The wee woman steps a little closer, to lower her voice. "Garak doesn't seem to approve, if his eyes be a good judge of his thinking."

Ashlee nods, slipping into the seat that Elleandra vacated so Xasany doesn't have to look up as much. It's a tall goblin chair, making it short for her. She pulls her satchel around to rest on her lap. "He is a Vanguard of Serriel, enjoys war, as most do. I am somewhat new, I came during the Goblin festival. I was in Blar before."

Seated, she folds up her parasol and leans it against her chair. She continues speaking in an almost bored, monotone. Her eyes are lively enough though, watching Xasany, "My clothes are enough for what I do. I'll get something similar when they wear out."

Xas steps closer still, just within arm's reach for the Arvek, and she nods. "Ah, so he's all by the book and regimented, yes? Well, your people do make war very well, so his attitude certainly works." She chuckles and shakes her head. "The festival was certainly a riot, quite a noisy affair. I watched from a bit of a distance. I was worried I'd get trampled." Possibly a fair concern.

"So what is Blar like? I am from a small, hidden Gnomish village nearby, so I've not been to many other places yet." The wee woman leans forward slightly, looking carefully at Ashes' face. "I cannot tell if it is painted on, or a tattoo... or if that is your actual face. It is well done."

"Blar is like him. Regimented. People keep their distance and fulfill their roles. The goblin sections are wild, like here. Tolerated." Ashlee says, again in a monotone, nodding slightly. Some parts of her facial decoration do seem to be makeup, dry and cracked along a few creases in her skin. However, the majority of it does appear to be either her natural skin colour or a tattoo. Her black nose is natural, as well as the warm grey skin surrounding the skull image. The piercings of course, are added. As she's sitting there, a rather large house centipede crawls out of her back. She ignores it as it runs up the front of her shirt and coils around her neck, making a sort of circlet with its head underneath her chin. "It's my face. I was raised in the woods, near a village near Blar. By a witch and a goat."

Xasany visibly shudders when the centipede crawls about and curls up around her neck. "Th..there's a a a a giant centip...", she stutters and simply points at the critter. She lets out a huff of breath and warms her arms by rubbing them. "I uh am a bit uhm scared of large creepy crawlies.", she says quietly, looking down at her boots. "Ah, so perhaps not too different from Alexandria? Different districts with different character?" The Gnome cants her head slightly, her eyes lighting up a little. "Witch? I'm a witch!"

Ashlee nods carefully now that her neck has a passenger. She doesn't smile, and her words still lack any level of enthusiasm. She seems completely comfortable with the centipeded on her skin, and once it's settled in place it could be mistaken for a choker. "This is my familiar, don't worry. I saw you float down and your owl. I'm not a very good witch, or priestess. Also not a very bad one. Perhaps we can share techniques."

The Gnome's expression brightens further, the centipede forgotten. "Whom was the witch you raised you? Maybe I know her?" She steps closer now, seemingly excited to meet another witch. "I would share what I know with you if it is helpful. I'm not a great teacher, but I will try!"

"Nana Beul An'Latha. She was called Nana Beul and Nana An depending on which village she went to." Ash says. Again, no expression in her voice, but she adjusts the satchel sitting on her lap, lifting it, "This was hers."

Xasany glances at the bag momentarily, and then back to Ashes. "Oh, has she passed on? My condolences. I have heard the name before, but I did not know her personally. She was a good person."

"Years ago. She is remembered well." Ashlee says, nodding slightly although not quite agreeing. "I wasn't able to take over. I moved on. A Mourner found me. I served the Temple in Blar, rode with the light cavalry as a healer, served the Temple again. Decided to come here."

"Oh. Well. I am glad you have made it here. I trust that the city has treated you well, so far? Are you staying at the temple or have you accommodation elsewhere?" Xasany grins lightly. "So you've ridden horses? What is that like?"

"There is a nice motion when the horse is going fast, or slowly. I don't care for trotting. Too bouncy." The ashen arvec nar explains. She nods again, "Alexandria has been well. I spend most of my time in the Temple of the Grey Lady, and they tend to be much the same. The catacombs are nice."

"I've never ridden a horse, but I have flown about quite a bit. I expect the fast movement and the wind in your face is good fun on a horse as it is up in the air." The wee woman looks away a moment, her pale cheeks flushing. "Hah, I suppose I can understand that. And it is good to hear that the city has been good so far. It is disappointing when new people arrive and get waylaid by bandits or something on their first day."

"Most leave me alone." Ashlee explains. There is something creepy about her, besides the skull face tattoo. She's got a personal aura that is a little like the catacombs, smells like damp earth. Shadows like her or she likes them, and her faded black clothes make her seem impoverished, not worth robbing. Plus she has very straight posture, which isn't unusual but does suggest some kind of martial training even if she generally lacks a lot of it. "I think flying would be nice. Drifting along with the wind would be even better."

The Gnome smiles brightly, nodding her head. "It is rather nice. And as a witch, you'll be able to do such a thing, with practice. Used to be that I could only float downwards gently." She hops and is suddenly WOOSHing into the air, where she circles about a few times before coming back down to land before the seated Arvek. "What about your hair? Can ye do this?" Her hair begins to writhe and move on it's own, seemingly like a group of snakes, curling about and hovering in the air as if to strike. A large tuft of it slowly moves towards Ashes' hand, and should she allow it, it begins to gently curl about her wrist.

Ashlee shakes her head, still no smile, although she runs her other hand through her hair, leaving the close one to be trapped. Her own hair seems thick, a little greasy and the strands clump together. Perhaps with work. "I can glare so much people have a bad day. That's it so far. Both of those look very enjoyable."

The hair pulls, and seems to have some strength behind it, but it lets go before it can be uncomfortable. "Oh? Like, people actually have a bad day if you curse them?", Xasany wonders. "Flying is good fun. And everything looks so beautiful from above."

Ashlee nods with vigor, although she continues speaking in a monotone, "Yes. Bad luck. I tell fortunes too. Isn't flying while wearing a skirt rather breezy?"

The Gnome suddenly blushes brightly and shakes her head. "I am wearing stocking and undergarments. Though, yes, generally you don't want to hover too long in windy places. If you're flying, it works out alright."

Again, no smile, but the arvec does seem amused by the way she nods. "That sounds practical. I hope to try it sometime. I will need to get out of the catacombs for that. I have my old equestrian gear at home."

Rubbing her hands on her cheeks, Xasany grins. "Now I know you were teasing, your eyes are a giveaway." She cants her head slightly. "Well, you're out of the catacombs right now, aren't you?"

"Yes, but I'm not standing behind someone in armour saying 'No. Stop. That's a bad idea. Don't', while they rush foolishly ahead. This is how you make the moderately heavy coin-purse." Ashlee says, making a casual gesture, then scratching at her leg through her pants. "I can't fight. I have only evil looks. I have armour and khopesh but they are for show."

The Gnome blinks. "Eh? What does this have to do with flying?", she wonders. "Or do you mean wearing a dress?" She giggles and shakes her head. "Nonsense, you can do more than that, can't you? Turn people into frogs? Or... I know, make people vomit frogs?"

Ashlee shakes her head, closing her eyes, "Not yet. I'm not a very good witch, as I said. I can get frogs to show up. I'll try getting someone to vomit them. That would be enjoyable. Flying is something I'll have to practice too."

"Maybe I can take you flying?", the little witch says with a grin. "Worth a try, maybe!" She giggles and nods. "Yes, people are scared of being inflicted with frogs. I don't know why."

The Gnome's hair suddenly bursts back to life, and surges forward to wrap around Ashes' waist. She is then... slowly... pulled skyward. They skim over the rooftops, only barely missing the odd eavestrough or three, but they do bounce off one of the buildings before slowly floating down to the mountain Temple of Vardama.

Xasany

The petite woman before you is a gnome. Her bright green hair stands out from the dark clothing she wears. If it was not done up the way it was, it would almost drag upon the ground when she walked. However, she appears to have gone out of her way to tame her hair, using many multi-coloured beads and ties to keep it neat and tidy. Her eyes are an icy blue, and they frame a dainty but prominent nose. Her eyebrows, the same green colour as her hair, extend upwards and away from her face. The gnome woman's lips are well suited for pouting, something she tends to do when she does not get her way. They are usually covered in a black lipstick.

The vast majority of her clothing is coloured black, in stark contrast to her hair. She wears a simple, short dress. The upper part of it clings to her frame like a blouse might, while the lower part is shaped like a skirt. Her arms and neck are left uncovered, except in bad or cold weather where she wears a full length cloak. Her legs are covered by black stockings, and her feet are covered in warm, sturdy leather boots.

While out and about, she normally wears a large backpack, seemingly stuffed full, and she carries a sturdy staff for a walking stick.

Ashes

She has a skull for a face.

On second glance it is a tattoo, white on her warm grey skin. Her nose is a coal black patch while her hair is a lighter, cooler grey. The hair has wavy, thick strands that clump together. Piercings and other decorations enhance her markings, creating a sugar skull, a festive death. Ashlee Ciaradh is not festive. She is a quiet, somber Arvec Nar. A little creepy. It's the way the hollows around her eyes are emphasized, her stare. The heavy jaw with all the teeth tattoos.

There's a chill around her, one unlike that caused by cold weather. A quietness of the tomb. Her clothes are dark, a short half-jacket over a shirt with dark slacks. She has a very battered bag slung over her shoulder, one that seems older than she is.

Ashes looks at you.