Meetup: Harvest Festival
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--<* A10: Temple of Althea *>=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
The term 'marble temple' only holds up insofar as the temple's outer edifice is concerned. Twin statues of Althea, each of them bearing gently glowing blue staves, provide welcome either side of the entrance, a door which has never been closed in recent memory. A place of community and warmth, a sense of warmth and welcome quickly overtakes most visitors upon entry.
Serrielite and Angorite devotees guard the outside entrances, while blue star-robed Hearthguard wander just inside, performing and guiding various charitable tasks. One can even see a smaller, more discrete entrance if one looks, from whence comes and go the Mourners of Vardama, carrying their somber burdens.
Designed to be open and welcoming, the place is a bustle of family and community-centered activity. A great, central oven serves the double duties of fireplace and food preparation on a grand scale that makes the temple a favorite for gatherings. Althean worshippers and Hearthguards alike tirelessly bake and cook for the less fortunate, while younger Hearthguards sit on comfortably cushioned divans with worshippers and petitioners, dispensing advice and Althea's kind words. Wreaths of herbs hang from the ceilings, giving a pleasant scent, while a pool fed by a small artificial waterfall provides fresh water for bathing wounds or blessing of children and worshippers. A procession of doors and halls lead off to various rooms. While many lead to places such as rooms, offices, and libraries for the Hearthguard, there is also a well-known hospice, as well as the transient bunks, and even counseling rooms for when a family member nears their end. This last area is overseen by Hearthguard and Mourner alike, in respectful accordance with local customs.
EXTRAS: +view
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-- Contents --=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
Svarshan Demons: BBQ with Spice 15s 1w
Godwyn Blond, blue-eyed, beatific Sentinel. 9m 1h
Pendleton An old, tall Myrrish man with a big gray mustache. 0s 8h
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= Exits -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
Out <O>
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
Yrqemm has arrived.
The Temple was decorated yet again, but this time in browns and oranges, yellows and golden tones. Big as it was, the main hall had room for several tables, covered in a dark blue sheet for each. This evening, the tables were filled with people from every walk and stripe, and all chatting over everything under the sun.
But of course, the reason they were here was to eat! And there was no food, not yet.
Svarshan leans down to listen to the young sith-makar standing next to him. The youth is all arms and legs, and gestures openly towards the food. The two are contrasts; dark scales to a light green, armor to an armored shirt. The youth wears a large disk showing the Dragon's emblem, and a trainee's sword at his waist. The two stand near one of the walls, not far from the Great Hearth.
Pendleton steps out from one of the back doors followed by a young dwarf with a handcart laden with kegs. He talks quietly in Khazad, points to near one of the tables, and the pair make their way over. Soon, the kegs are stacked and the dwarf heads back with the cart, perhaps for more. Pendleont nods with a smile to some of the Althean clergy, and sets the table up; two kegs and a large stack of mugs in between.
And the clergy that are there are acolytes, dressed in whites and blues. So where are the...
Wait, is that singing?
Well yes, yes it is. And it's coming from a procession of Hearthguard, dressed in something a bit more formal, the royal blue with silver trim shining faintly as they pass by the hearth. It's a march, and they're all smiles as they carry the food they'd spent all day preparing! Anyone who'd joined in the hunt would see exactly what they'd hunted, except cooked and steaming.
Just behind them in blue and white, except in the form of a tabard with a blue rose on the front and back, was Godwyn Sylvan, the same grin on her face as everyone else. She stopped just at the opening to the back rooms, watching as the trays of food were set up.
Seems the fae elf also brought a friend: he strides in and finds a place to find the procession, but isn't alone--he's got a capuchin riding on his shoulder, one little hand placed on the bald head's elf for balance as they walk and weave, trying to find a good vantage point, and a better line on the vittles.
The young sith points, and points. He /looks/ excited, even though the words come in hisses and clicks. The older of the two grips his shoulders warmly and leans down, responding in the same language.
Uneth has arrived.
People are already nice and sat down, and more than likely are waiting for food. Or rather they were, and now they're getting it, in the form of a grand procession of Hearthguards! Notably, they're singing while they serve the food, a temple song of thanks for the blessings. It's actually quite catchy, and people are starting to clap along!
Vroole has arrived.
Svarshan stands along the side walls, and near the Great Hearth. A sith-makar youth next to him keeps pointing to things and from the tone of it, asking questions. Both of them wear the Dragon's mark. Occasionally, the youth points to something in particular, which leads to a halting, if lengthier, explanation from the older one. At the sight of a familiar face, the older one looks up, and offers a warm thump of his tail. "Peasse to your. Nest, and may. The Dragon sshelter. You," he says to Godwyn.
The youth stares, STAAARRRES... With wide eyes.
Fiore has arrived.
Godwyn glanced toward Svarshan and grinned. "Sunblade Svarshan, a pleasure! I figured you'd be elsewhere this evening, but I'm glad you could make it!" She made her way over to him. "I can see you brought your protégé, too." She knelt and placed a hand on his head. "How have you been, squire?"
The temple is open to all, so who knows who may arrive. One hunched, cloaked figure enters, curious of all the animated comments and postings concerning The Hunt and its celebration. The midst of the city, beneath walls dedicated to a goddes who has naught to do with The Hunt seems a strange location for the reverence.
One odd person trots her way into the temple of Althea. This particular woman has to duck under the door frame to come in, but she would definitely be recognizable to at least one person here, provided Godwyn's in here. Fiore makes her way into the temple and smiles a bit. 'Now THIS....is a feast!" She says with a grin as she waves to Svarshan.....not really recognizing him.
Pendleton's colleague brings more beer, and the pair soon have a lot of filled mugs, begin distributing them. Those handing them out mention one is a light lager, another is a autumnal spiced stout. Pendleton lifts a hand in greeting to Svarshan as he distributes the gods' blessings. In liquid form.
The young sith stares and then breaks off into a sudden stream of babble. To anyone who speaks Draconic, he speaks fast and quick, tumbling over words as he says things like hello and fine and Dragon bless and then points to the table going: what sort of food is the thing with the white foamy thing with the crusty thing in the center that the old man with the yellow hair on his face is crunching on?
Svarshan thumps his tail in response to Godwyn and then Pendleton, but then it's all he can do to stand there quietly as the youngling's inquisitiveness takes over. He sends the brewer a warm if wry smile. No brews for him today, that seems to say. It also says: you see what I deal with. Though, he really doesn't seem upset about it at all.
Word on the street had even reached the ears, or lack thereof of Vroole, a festival to commemorate the hunt. A curiosity as much as anything else, the stone being has never needed to hunt, to scavenge sure, but never hunt for food. The idea of such and how others enjoy it so much draws the hulking rock sentinel in blue titan armor to the very doors of the Temple Althea itself. Green, glowish eye sockets cast around the room, even as stone feet smacks the floor of the temple one after the other, those he notes, a nod to Svarshan as he is the only one there he has run across to date. Godwyn yes, the one with him and the young lizard another nod once he sees she was from the bardic music festival.
Godywn chuckled as she looked up at Svarshan. "I'm afraid that wasn't really one of my study topics on languages. Would you mind giving me the short version of what he just said?"
Yrqemm finds a place somewhere inncoous to watch the goings on, taking a seat at the edge. The little monkey on his shoulder remains there, alert and a bit intimidated, going by how closely he's holding on to Yrqemm's neck.
Svarshan looks towards the youth, who's already busy staring at something else. And this other thing. And the-- "Sa. He ssays. ...he wonders what. That food iss. And where it. ...comes from." Svarshan nods towards the fluffy souffle? on a few of the plates. "He undersstands. Ssome Common but. Gets..." Words. Words fail him again and he looks apologetically towards the Sentinel for a moment, before looking towards Vroole. He pauses again, and thumps his tail once in greeting.
Godwyn nodded, partly in understanding and partly in empathy. He didn't need words half the time anyway.
A tap on her right shoulder pulled her attention away, and she gave a nod at the acolyte just behind her. "You'll have to forgive me, I need to get this party started. They made me the host for this, for some reason I can't explain."
Fiore chuckles softly at Godwyn. "I can't imagine why, Godwyn. you're only the most active person here." She says with a laugh.
She turned with a gasp. "Fiore!" The Sentinel grinned and gave the giantborn her best hug. "I'm so glad you could make it. How have things been?" She glanced toward the tables and cleared her throat. "I'm sorry, I have to get this going. We'll talk when the feast starts!"
Uneth skulks about the periphery, observing the celebration. Or lack thereof, in her opinion.
At a glance around A10: Temple of Althea -----------------
Fiore 4m 8'0" 725 Lb Giantborn Female
Massive woman with a tattoo on her left shoulder
Vroole 3s 6'8" 336 Lb War Golem Male
Black stone creature in arcane armor.
Uneth 12s 5'0" 100 Lb Shadow Elf Female
Slight and hunched sildanyari in a deep brown cloak.
Yrqemm 6m 6'1" 190 Lb Dawn Elf Male
A fae elf, fair and sinewy, shaved head.
Svarshan 0s 6'4" 307 Lb Sith-Makar Male
Demons: BBQ with Spice
Godwyn 2m 5'7" 120 Lb Human Female
Blond, blue-eyed, beatific Sentinel.
Pendleton 12m 6'0" 250 Lb Human Male
An old, tall Myrrish man with a big gray mustache.
==================================================================
Svarshan offers a thump of his tail in reply, and then reaches over to snag the youth, and realign him towards the wall. "We are here. To guard. ...but you. May sstill ask. Questions." The youth looks from the older sith to the crowd and people, and anxiously retakes his post.
Then points at something else.
This time, it's Pendleton.
"He makess. Beer," is the explanation. Followed by, "That iss not. A hamsster on hiss. Face." Giant moustache.
He doesn't see Uneth. She's skulking.
Fiore nods to Godwyn. "Of course, Godwyn. We have much to talk about." She says before she looks to Svarshan....and actuall lowers herself to eye level with Svarshan. "Greetings...." She says in a soft voice to Svarshan.
Godwyn stepped toward the front again, just near the hallway leading to the antechambers, and cleared her throat. "Tonight, we give thanks!"
She smiled and made her way in between the tables as she spoke. "Thanks to our brave hunters, who boldly strode forth and gathered what you see before you. Thanks to the Great Hunter himself, for the gifts nature has brought us! And to Althea, for guiding you all here this night in safety and health.
"I know you want me to be quiet so you can start eating your fill, but I must needs urge you all to participate in what goes on after this. This is the only the first night of the Harvest Festival, and things will be going on all over the city! So then, eat! Drink! Make new friends and strengthen old connections! May the gods watch over us as we celebrate the conclusion of the Great Hunt!"
Pendleton glances over, directs the young fair-haired dwarf and an older, dark-haired dwarf that's joined him, then makes his way over as a guest, mug in hand. Closer to Svarshan, he gives a nod. "Evening, good Svarshan."
"What goes on after this?" Uneth asks from one side of the hall. "When and where does one celebrate those who gave their lives to provide this bounty?"
The stone face of Vroole looks to the visage of Althea herself, noting the differences in his thought of a god in general. Reos was more to his taste, the image of everything rolling like a storm. Creation at is very base and his thoughts raining down on all, especially war golems like himself, children of Reos and of the forge. Shaking his head a bit he returns to the present and all that is going on around him. He watches, wondering about the food all there eat, the drink they consume and how something for one can be so neat and fastidious, spoon, fork and knife in use in an intricate dance to roam into their mouths. Then others, a mess, stuffing with hands and the gleam of fat and other creamy substances smeared on face, in beards and over clothing. The stone being wonders how such an act can be taken so differently by many and yet so unanimously enjoyed and eagerly consumed.
The sith-makar youth stares at Pendleton-it's-not-a-hamster-on-his-face, and Fiore-no-one's-that-tall and opens his mouth...
And then Godwyn starts speaking.
He closes his mouth with slowly and stands to attention, but as soon as the Sentinel's done introducing the feast--the dam breaks. He stares in particular at the object upon Pendleton's face which absolutely does not and in no circumstances does it resemble a hamster...despite being blockish and brushy. Svarshan follows the look, and then to Fiore.
"..." Svarshan says, not apparently knowing where to begin explaining. The Temple could have, you know, chosen someone who was good with words.
Yrqemm enjoyes the festivities from the peripheries, sneaking treats for the monkey on his shoulder when he thinks no one is looking.
Godwyn glanced toward the speaker. "Everywhere. All over Alexandria." She made her way toward him. "Songs and dancing in the theater district, tales of valor in every pub that's open! Everyone's going to be doing everything for the next few days." She tilted her head to the right. "So who do I have the pleasure of speaking to?"
Fiore chuckles softly and pats Svarshan upon the shoulder, much like the way the sith-makar thumps his tail. However, her attention is drawn towards Uneth as he speaks, and she ventures her way over in his direction, noting the War golem on her way by, as she heads for Godwyn.
"I am Uneth," is explained as the figure steps closer to Godwyn, "a creature, like those on your tables. Your hunger is impressive to need so many, but do you honor their sacrifice? Or only the hunters?"
Godwyn gave a nod. "We do so honor them as well. We would be remiss if we didn't." She tilted her head to the right. "So then Uneth... I admit I've never seen you around here before. From whence do you hail?"
Svarshan smiles as the giantborn turns away. It takes him a while after that, before he can put the words together, before he can frame them...but he leans down and says something along the lines of: "Angoron's...Children." Then, with a nod towards Vroole, something else. This time, the words are even yet more halting.
Yrqemm has disconnected.
Pendleton raises a mug, and, in a surprisingly strong voice that carries, responds, "I am Pendleton Brundelssen, of the Brundel family! Once a devotee of the Eye, now I walk with the Hymn. And, always... BEER!" He raises his mug with a cry, echoed by not a few khazad in attendance. "I will admit my interests lie more in hunt as a resonance, as a story. The Hunter is always hunting, the quarry is always running, from the time the song was new, until it fades into the silent stones."
(New BB message (4/17) posted to 'Useless Crap' by Inferno: Free Games!)
Godwyn blinked for a moment as the man's voice carried over the chatter of the crowd. Goodness, he could carry like Aldean! She gave a bow toward Uneth. "Do forgive me. I feel I must tend to this fellow's words... seems he has something to say." With that, she turned toward his direction and observed.
Fiore chuckles as she watches Godwyn, but she does go and get some food for herself....but not ale. She doesn't drink ale. MEAD however.......
"I came from east and south," is Uneth's simple yet descriptive answer to the departing Godwyn. Her own curiosity seems sated for the moment, and she turns to walk along one of the tables. The contents are browsed in passing.
Pendleton takes a sip, eyeing the crowd, then intones when there is a lull, "Home is the sailor, home from sea: Her far-borne canvas furled. The ship pours shining on the quay, the plunder of the world.
"Home is the hunter from the hill: Fast in the boundless snare, All flesh lies taken at his will And every fowl of air.
"'Tis evening on the moorland free, The starlit wave is still: Home is the sailor from the sea, The hunter from the hill."
Godwyn leaned against the wall and took a listen to him, smiling as he spoke the poem. With a grin, she applauded at the end, as everyone else cheered for the offering. "Well done, sir Pendleton!" She made her way over to him. "Were that I so talented with words as you." The Sentinel gave him a bow, just enough to show deference. "We haven't met, you and I, and now I wish we had earlier. Godwyn Sylvan, Sentinel of Althea." She chuckled as she rose from the greeting. "I'm afraid I'm the one they chose to start this party off and see it through, though I'm not qualified to do so."
@emit
After listening to the poem, raptly standing still like a statue long forgotten, the war golem moves towards Pendleton and Godwyn. "That was unique and well spoken. Thank you." A simple thanks to Pendleton maybe all it seems, but for such gifts of something memorable it is everything to Vroole. He then turns to Godwyn, "Do not sell yourself short, we are have or path and Althea, though not mine, is watching even those with few but powerful words. As is all the gods when watching over their children."
Godwyn grinned. "It seems you're well spoken as well. I'm afraid I haven't met you, either. I suppose I should rectify that. What's your name?"
Vroole nods his head, "I am afraid I'm not much on local customs. I am Vroole, all that I know of a name. A child of Reos. I believe in a situation like this I ma to ask for your name as well."
Pendleton grins to Godwyn. "Ah, well met! I am a big fan of all things Althean. And as for qualifications, well. When you get to my age, many things become well-worn." He takes a sip, adds, "Mind you, some of those things are unfortunate."
Uneth is not one to waste nor ignore food, though she may be particular in her celebrations. Several morsels here and there are claimed from the tables of sustenance as she passes. Some are put into her hood to be gnawed upon, others vanish into her outerwear for later.
Godwyn gave a nod toward the golem. "Well met, Vroole. My name is Godwyn, and I'm glad you could make it. Should you have any questions about anything, go ahead and ask me. Mind you, I may be a tad hesitant with some of those answers, but I'll try my best."
Svarshan makes a mechanical sound, and with his claws, illustrates a large, floating object. The floating object then crumbles, crashing suddenly to the ground. Whatever's going on, there's some history to it, and Vroole is occasionally gestured to.
Fiore is munching awat at the food on the table. You'd think she hadn't eaten in a few weeks for her to eat like this.
Vroole says, "I heard of the food, though I do not partake myself, the spread is lovely." Perhaps that is something Vroole had heard said before in passing someone in conversation from those that are enjoying the festivities, "I also understand that those that follow certain deities are reluctant to speak of it as well. I shall watch what my curiosity may ask." He notes that that Svarshan is pointing towards him now and again, curiosity peeking now, "Excuse me I must address something." Vroole nods himself out of the current conversation and wanders over to the dragon man and his squire.
"
"Sate your hunger," Uneth advises Fiore. "Take your fill while you can."
Svarshan makes a few more gestures, illustrating things in the air where words tend to fail him...and they do. The squire watches with wide eyes, and then stares outright at the golem as he approaches.
Svarshan stills, as quiet as a reptile on a sunning-rock...and smiles faintly, warmly. "Sssa. And they. Gained ssouls," he says. "It iss...Vroole?" he asks, having met the golem however briefly, the other day. The sith's words are slow. Halting.
A creature from a bygone age, a war no one wanted to remember and yet this Warforged creation had awoken. Large, bulky and heavy are some descriptions even as there is an almost wispiness to the size of this golem's waist. The stone, like ebony, black as night, intermixed with the green glow of some kind of crustal that formed between the limbs and the main trunk of the body, even what look like rivers of the same crystal that run down and through the body and at elbows, knees and neck. Set off by the sun, the crystal almost glows with energy of their own, even if the effect is more a refraction and diffusion of the light passing through it. Eyes though, some intelligence behind them a sense of where they are looking even if the stone mask of a head isn't facing someone.
The stone forms certain features a mask with eyeholes for a head, the top like a priest with a bald center right on top of green crystal. Large, angular arms, the shoulders rising up a little to a square-ish peak on the outside, they runs down to a knobby elbow with green crystal flowing around it and what connects the upper arm with the lower arm, ending in a large fist with four fingers. Legs formed in a similar fashion ending in a rock clawed foot, beaked toes in front another in back for counterbalance, kneecaps rising up like armored boots similar to the outside of the arms to give the being some form of unity in its look. Symbols are drawn on the chest, a stylized hammer as praise to Reos, along with an owl with wings spread and the depiction of an eye, almost like that of the shape of a peacock seen from the right side.
The titan armor worn, light blue, trimmed in copper, seems to be attached to him in pieces, designed that way and connected beneath each with what looks like gears and other bits of machinery if one gets close enough to look. Pauldrons cover over the upper arms, lower plating covers around the forearms, an interesting rounded like bottom on the outside rolls down over the fists whenever he makes a slam attack. Back plate, rises up from almost running fully around a thinner waist, up to a sharp point behind his head and the chest piece covers up most things except for a plus sign cross with hammer/anvil shaped ends that allow the carved runes to show through at the ends. The eye at the top, the sign of Remos at the bottom and the owl right in the center. Legs have armor plating attached as well, surrounding both with gaps on the inner thighs and down as well as up the outside.
Fiore smiles and chuckles softly towards Uneth. "I'm usually on a strict diet and training regimen." She says after swallowing a bit of steak she just tore off. "Thankfully, Master Iroh allows me to celebrate occasionally, and the hunt is one of those celebrations." She then smiles to Uneth again. 'You are...Uneth?"
Godywn smiled as she looked around. "They outdid themselves, didn't they?" A grin shone forth just then. "And to think, soon enough I'll be able to help them out for true. I learned how to prepare a lot of this stuff while they were getting ready!"
Pendleton looks Vroole over thoughtfully as he drinks. "I wonder if a golem could be designed to dispense liquor. Mmm. A most unique barmaiden, perhaps?"
"I am," Uneth nods to Fiore, hood bobing. "Why would you not eat when you are hungry and have food? That is death."
Vroole nods his head, "Vroole it is. You were Svarshan, though I do not know who this is." The rock golem lowers down and looks over the smaller dragon curiously, "Not often one sees the younger side of the great dragons outside their swamps or so I have read." He then switches to an almost perfect Draconic and bowing he introduces himself to the youth, continuing perhaps to explain as well, not only are they created, but Reos blesses them with a portion of his life energy. That WAr Golems, though not all as approachable as he are children of Reos himself.
(New BB message (3/129) posted to 'Plot Announcements' by BeagleHugs: PrP Workshop: Social Issues (OPEN))
Fiore says, "You misunderstand. I am on a diet most of the time. Which means I eat, but do not stuff myself. So I eat well, just not everything in sight to gluttony. That would be counterproductive to my training." She then smiles. "I am Fiore of the Order of Righteous Battle, by the way.""
Pendleton sips and comments over to... well, up toward, Fiore. "Like many things, proper gluttony takes training and exercise to reach true mastery."
"Svarshan Kotharrventin, and thiss is Chipahua. ..." Svarshan leans down and says something to the young squire, and then gestures to the golem. Chip blinks a few times and then steps forward. Squares his shoulders. ...and then asks if he could please see Vroole's soul.
"He meanss. The godssight. I told him. That over time the. Consstructed were... their ssouls were. Born. He would like. To seee. You glow." The story meshes well with the one Vroole had given.
Uneth chuckles softly and looks to Pendleton. "All creatures are gluttons. We hunger for more. More food, more power, more knowledge. It is the way of Ea. It only takes practice to achieve and survive."
Fiore gets up and takes another steak as she walks over to Svarshan and tilts her head. 'Godsight? What is that?" She says as she looks to Godwyn....
Vroole scratches his chin a little, turning as Fiore walks up, but he amuses the dragon child with a bit of a glow, the green crystal taking on a light, radiating outward from joints and the rivulets across his chest. The armor itself reacting, the pieces with their gears under them, turning and the armor clamps down, moving even as it seems to bolster him like a shell on a crab and its protective chiton. It is brief and Vroole looks a bit tired afterward, "I should not overdue Reos' gift. One does not know if it might come in handy before I find rest again."
Godwyn nodded toward Vroole. "That."
Pendleton watches intently, sips his mug. "VERY pretty. And useful."
It isss...a way of seeing. It wasss mean to. Sshow if there was..." Gods. Words. Words! Svarshan rubs at his muzzle, but--
"It'ss-like-looking-at hearth-fire! Soulss are really bright. When there'ss evil they turn dark. That'ss how you know there'ss evil, but if there issn't evil it'ss PURE. Like FIRE." The way the youth says fire, it's as though it's one of the most beautiful things in the world. The words come fast. Quick. Tumbling over one another, and a sudden break into Common. "But war golemss really can SHOW their ssouls. Woah woah woah!" He looks in fascination at Vroole's sharing, and then blinks up at the golem several times. Duuuuuuuude, that says. DUDE!
Godwyn chuckled. "He did say it for true, that's for sure." Children do tell it like it is, after all. Godwyn made her way back over to Svarshan and his apprentice. "I wonder what else you know...?"
Vroole considers this and nods, "Indeed it did feel like a fire had been lit inside me before I awoke. Set with a purpose to learn about the world and then to teach it to others. Though it seems even as we were born of war, we awaken to what might be the greatest war, to live."
Uneth has disconnected.
The young sith stares from where Vroole's light had appeared, to the golem's eyes. At length, Svarshan taps the youth's shoulder, and then looks to the golem. "Thank. You," he says. "Wordss are...they do not. Often sshow." He tilts his head then at Godwyn, as though thinking over her own words, and turning them over. After he puts them together, he smiles slowly. "The tribe thinksss so. I do not know. They may not. Know me. Well."
Chipahua's saying something to the effect of: it glowed!
Godwyn smiled. He didn't need words, but when he spoke, it was eloquent. At least to her. In any event... She took another look around the improvised banquet hall. "Well they're halfway done... It seems my role has diminished for the time being since nothing's broken. Yet." She chuckled and placed an arm on Svarshan's right shoulder. "I trust you've been training Chipahua well, then?"
Vroole nods and bows his head to them both, "My brothers always thought I would do most anything for a child if asked... Coddling they thought of it, but they are where the future leads." The golem seems to feel brighter in mood, though no one might be able to figure out how they know other than the almost happier tone of his voice.
Godwyn glanced toward Vroole. "Isn't that curious, how a child of Reos can speak so much like an Althean?" She grinned. "I can't help but notice such connections. You'll have to forgive me."
"I do. What the sshamans. Ask." Svarshan manages the words inbetween Chipahua's chattering. And staring.
Vroole is REALLY fascinating. Except... at the word 'child' he straightens indignantly. Of COURSE he does.
"Chipahua isss. Four...teen." Svarshan manages the words slowly, and only after holding up a number of fingers to illustrate the number.
Chipahua straightens his shoulders. Of COURSE he's fourteen. He's...
The older sith rubs at the side of his muzzle with a thumb, and smiles.
Pendleton strokes the corner of his hamster as he watches Svarshan and his protege.
Vroole kneels down so that he is far more on level with Chipahua, "I am only fifteen, most would not consider me a child, but to the age of the world, we are but infants and always learning. I will always be a child of Reos until a cease to function." The stone golem turns to Godwyn as he rises again, "No need to forgive. Each God only has its best wishes for each who it raises. Even that which you might consider darkness, are those not parents to their dark offspring as well?"
Chipuahua straightens and looks, well. Teenagers are never good with the 'grace' thing. It ends up with him staring at Vroole more, though. Vroole is FASCINATING.
Godwyn giggled. "He certainly is inquisitive." And easily impressed. Godwyn looked toward Svarshan. "Come now, you can't tell me a part of you doesn't enjoy teaching him."
Svarshan quiets for a while. Just quiets, and then taps the side of his muzzle. "I have. ...ssseven I will. Teach," he says at length and then there's another pause and...steel. Oh, steel, the growl of the earth and of a man who's gone to Hell for the fun of it. "They will SSURVIVE, Ssentinel. ALL."
Fiore says, "Aren't you supposed to be inquisitive? If you are not, then you die?" She then shrugs. "If you are not learning, then you are passing on wisdom to others." She says softly before looking to Chipuahua. "Right?""
Godwyn gave a nod. "And well they should! Althea watch over them all." She smiled and looked toward Vroole. "For someone who claims to know so little, you are quite the speaker."
Vroole reaches into a pouch and pulls out a very patch worked, metal, bird looking toy. He rests it in his hand and turns the key in its back. it was something he had been meddling with along with other artificer device ideas and as he lets the key turn once wound up it begins to chirp, though it is metallic and only vaguely resembling the warbles of a canary. "That is all it does. It is harder to give it motion and recreate the true sound." He draws it towards Chipuahua and nods, "You may keep it. If your teacher allows. One must be careful not to wind it up to tight, jsut till you can feel it pushing back against the winding and it will sing for a long time." Turning back to Godwyn the Golem nods, "My creator blessed me with many things, including the language of many races. It was so I could one day teach many what I have learned over my lifetime. Though that I cam to more after discovering that my creator and brothers are not functional any longer. For it was to my creator that I was going to teach everything to begin with."
Sophia has arrived.
A snarl follows the words, fast-contained. A soft spot, then. The edge of rage. Sith children don't have the world's greatest survival record. Svarshan stands there trembling for a moment, huffing air...and then excuses himself for a moment to get himself something to drink. Chipahua looks from his retreating teacher towards the giantborn and blinks once. "I am-here-to-learn. The-Dragon-says!" The last statement helps soothe the teenager's pride after the 'child' remark. Hrmph. Teenagers.
Pendleton glances at Chipuahua, then at Svarshan's back with great sympathy, a man who has raised several teens. He finishes off his drink and goes to get another.
When Vroole produces the bird, Chip can't help but look. He looks quickly to the side and then back again, and then almost snatches the object to--look at. To turn over. Vroole quickly gets a slew of words and phrases of excitement.
Fiore smiles to Chipuahua and.....offers the teen the half eaten steak in her hand. "As am I. I am Fiore, Acolyte of the Order of Righteous Battle."
It seems to bring the Golem joy and he eagerly answers the youth anything he asks, some in common and in Draconic, feeding the curiosity and inquisitive nature of Chip. It was something that only went to reaffirm his decision after waking up once again. Fiore gets a nod as well, "Well met Fiore. I am Vroole, Child of Reos."
Fiore also makes sure to sit on the floor.....considering she has two feet upon just about everyone in the room.
The youth is no end of questions. He only pauses when, after a time, his teacher comes back and in a rare gesture, hugs the boy one-armed. Svarshan looks relaxed again, though with an edge. He noticed the toy though, and looks down curiously at it.
Godwyn glanced toward Svarshan at his return. "Sunblade... if I said anything wrong..."
Pendleton returns with a drink, watching the golem and boy talk. It isn't clear how much he grasps of the conversation, but he seems content to listen regardless.
Sophia emerges from the back, clad in her typical robes as befits a priestess of Althea. She smiles a bit, glancing around after murmuring something to a passing acolyte, making sure everything is well supplied for the dinner. When she spots Svarshan, her smile grows a bit wider as a result.
Svarshan stills as he does when he's working through...words. Meanings. Phrases. And then gives a sudden jerk of his head to the negative. Instead, he smiles warmly, and nods towards the Hearthguard. ...then runs a thumb along his jaw, looking thoughtful.
A little too thoughtful.
He looks over at the youth, who is poking at the toy Vroole gave him, and utterly Not Paying Attention.
Godwyn gave a nod in response and turned toward Sophia. "You know, I've been waiting for you to show up." She placed her hands on her hips. "To think, this would not have been complete without you. I'm just glad you could make it, Mentor."
Svarshan catches Pendleton's, and then Sophia's, eye for a moment, before looking back towards the youth. "You may. Keep it. ...ass ssoon as you. Land a. Blow."
Chilahua stills. ...and then such joy, such FIERCE joy fills the youth's face that--joy, mixing with cunning, mixing with wariness. Thoughtfulness. They're all over his face to read.
"Thank you for. Organissing. This. We are. Heading to the court. Yard." Pause. "Your. Sstudent did. Very. Well."
I am going to kick so much ass, Chip's expression says at one point, followed by: Oh SHIT. Followed by: Kicking ass. NOW!
Sophia shakes her head, "Godwyn, you can just call me Sophia, particular in a setting such as this." She glances over towards Pendleton. More specifically, to the table full of beer that he's apparently appropriated.
Pendleton's cheeks get ruddier and ruddier as he listens. His earlier loquaciousness has passed into a warm glow... ... mmm.
Pendleton goes OOC.
Pendleton has left.
Godwyn chuckled. "And again, I need to earn the right to do that. I haven't quite managed it yet, so you are Mentor Sophia Lightbringer for the forseeable future." With that, she made her way to another table, one where the temple clergy sat. "Come on, let's eat. I haven't had anything since starting this."
Fiore chuckles softly as she watches the sith heading out of the temple. She then looks to Godwyn. "I'm pretty sure she's telling you to relax, Godwyn and to treat her like an equal for tonight."
Sophia nods, "Indeed, that would be exactly it." She shakes her head a bit, snatching a flagon of ale while she can, looking at the others, "Certainly, we shouldn't be bound by titles on this evening, yes?"
Godwyn smiled. "Well... perhaps this once." She took a seat at the round table, joining the other Hearthguards for dinner. "Thank you all for letting me host this. Or rather, picking my name out of a hat and *making* me do it." That got a laugh out of the table, and with that she dug in.
Fiore chuckles softly to Godwyn. "There are some things that you must do, and somethings you should do." She then goes and eats another steak. "Mmmmf. And you guys know how to cook."
Godwyn has disconnected.
Sophia has disconnected.
Vroole has disconnected.
Fiore goes OOC.
Fiore has left.