Smoking Barrels

Log Info

• Title: Smoking Barrels
• Emitter: Cryosanthia
• Characters: Cryosanthia, Geir
• Place: W02: Mictlan
• Time: Monday, September 28, 2020, 2:59 PM
• Summary: Cryosanthia is smoking meat and watching Little Fang, when Shaman Geir arrives. He catches the errant foundling and the two Sith discuss things, her recent adventures, how she is doing, her concerns about Lily and other unresolved things occurring around Alexandria, such as the druid Vidor Hawfslur and the Taaranites. The challenges and pleasures of raising younglings are discussed while the two entertain Lily, and finally Cryo bounds off, pretending to be a Swiftclaw with Lily as rider.

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Located within the Deep Woods, and hours past Wilderness Pointe, in the heart of its northern woods, bones frame this hollowed-out space. Massive and heavy, they reach towards the sky, meeting--almost--in the center like great and worn stalagmites. Or giant teeth. After a few seconds--it's quickly evident that this is a space carved from a dragon's bones. A very, very large...dragon's bones. The air smells of ash, brimstone, and earth. Underneath the apex of the bones lie the workings of a central Fire.

The grounds are run by shamans of the sith-makar, and the sacred space dedicated to the Death Singing Dragon, one of their names for the goddess, Vardama. There are always a number of them about, from a mixture of tribes. Formally, the sith use it to sing the souls of their dead back to the land of Wing and Flame, and celebrate the Memory of Blood. It was here that brave heroes stood, and vanquished the ashen warriors of old, thereby freeing the land from Thul's curse. Informally, it is a gathering place.

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-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-  Appearing  -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Cryosanthia  6'9"     291 Lb     Sith-Makar        Female    A dashingly tall, elegant white-scaled lizard woman.
Geir         5'8"     200 Lb     Sith-Makar        Male      A short, copper-scaled Sith-makar.
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The weather is good, the sky bright. Mictlan is pleasant because of the Shamans. Near the cooking fires, a whitescaled woman is involved in a little project, when she isn't chasing after a carnation-scaled youngling.

Cryosanthia is tending the smoking barrels, which are set on a small pile of rocks with a fire beneath. She's also entertaining Lily, who orbits within a certain distance. When her foundling gets too far away, her current task is abandonned to chase her, like now.

"Lily, come to Ssassaa! No, no, we're not racing." The little pink kobold is bounding off in a line.

Geir walks along, in his own straight line, which will intersect at some point with the Pink Cannonball. He appears lost in thought, a hand raised to his chest, sharpened talons tapping away at the heavy scales of his armor. His eyes flick up, having been eyeballing the ground, at the approach of the runaway Kobold. He chortles deep in his throat, and nimbly ducks down to scoop up the li'l Fang. "Well hello Little Fang!", he says at her squeak and laughter. "Peace on your nest, youngling." He glances to the approaching Cryosanthia. "And on yours."

"Peaasss on your Nessstss." Little Fang peeps, scooped and caught. She squirms, inadvertantly tapping away at Geir's armour.

"Peace on your Nesst." Cryo says, catching up. She's wearing her leather armour of old, adjusted in a few places, and no magic gear in sight, "Good to ssee you, Sshaman Geir. Good catch."

The copper-scale's expression is mirthful, amused at the antics of the squirmy one. Laughing, he settles her upon his shoulder, wrapping an arm about her legs to keep her from falling. "Your tradespeak is improving, Little Fang. Good girl!" He glances to Cryo and chuckles. "It is easy to do, when one does not have a thousand other tasks. Younglings love to test you, to see if you are paying attention. Blink and wooop, they're gone." His tail raises up and thumps the ground.

"She does at that. She iss good at running and dissappearing." Cryo concurs, watching as Geir takes charge of her. She seems satisfied that her foundling isn't going anywhere, "This one talks to her a lot, in draconic then repeating the tradespeak. She seems to listen. It's fun to explain and have an audience."

The white sith gestures towards the barrels, "We're smoking some of the meat to preserve it. The hunters brought in enough for today all ready, and others are still coming in."

"It's not exactly a Speaker task, but the others look at me funny if I spend all day dancing."

"Some do not understand the benefit of dancing.", Geir says, his expression growing serious for a moment. "But this one believes that as long as one is there in times of need, as long as one helps their family, their caste, their People... dance as one desires." He reaches out with a hand, to lightly squeeze at her elbow. "Few may understand, but this one does."

He blinks as Fang reaches out to tug at one of his horns, one of which is within easy reach. He snorts and chuckles again.

"She tries to steer me with mine, when she rides my shoulders." Cryo explains, relaxing at the touch on her elbow, "perhaps I should dance more, so I can be there for the people more."

She's drifting back to the barrels, where she crouches and puts some more sawdust on the fires beneath the barrels, to keep them smouldering and not burning. She looks back at Geir, "Do you understand Infernal?"

The copper-scale eyes the Kobold momentarily, and reaches up to gently tweak one of her cheeks. She squeaks noisily at him, and he chuckles. "Did you want to sit upon this one's head, Little Fang?" He glances to Cryo, as he walks along slowly behind her. "This one does not, sadly. Languages are not a strong point."

"Yesssss." Little Fang squeal loudly, in the happy high-pitched way younglings do, made even louder and higher by her kobold heritage. She climbs up the copper-scale's face and sits herself between his horns. Light for a kobold, she's heavy for a helmet, and seems to be enjoying her perch.

Cryo nods, opening the barrel lid and looking inside, a cloud of smoke rising up. She closes the lid again. "Languages are Speaker-Casste, but Infernal iss beyond this one. I ran into infernal scorpions, escaped from a rift in the Redridge. It said something before it exploded, I'm curious what."

Geir snorts and chuckles, a fine smoke trailing from his nostrils. The Kobold seems content to try to steer the copper-scale, which he humours, turning to and fro. He still generally trails along behind the icy-scale Sith, and he nods to her explanation.

"One expects that it was probably nothing profound, but profane. This one has, unfortunately, seen much death in his short life. Few are giving much time at all to barely speak a word, let alone something deep."

Cryo laughs, moving on to the next barrel and checking the small fire at its base. "That would be ssomething, wouldn't it? A philossophical quesstion as it'ss lasst statement. Such as, 'If it iss in the nature of a being to perform an act, that it hass been designed for, then can performing the act be considered good, and not doing so a sign of rebellion and corruption? Thuss iss Evil being good when it acts Evil, per design?'"

The white sith snorts, making a thrusting gesture with her right hand and a mock reply, "No, foul beast! I say no. Good is being good."

Lily cheers in agreement, "Ssaaa! Good!"

The corners of Geir's mouth curl ever so slightly, the smile that is not a smile. "That is a very fundamental question. For example, a wolf will hunt and kill animals. One might see killing as evil, however, without the wolf, and fox, and hunters... the rabbit would soon overpopulate the world with its kind. So to kill for food, and if one uses the pelt also, this is not evil." He rubs at his chin, and reaches up to tickle at Little Fang's side.

"However, things become complicated when one considers sentient creatures."

"It was oddly sentient, for a giant, hell-corrupted, dropfall scorpion." Cryosanthia nods, bouncing up from her crouch. She waves at Little Fang, Little Fang waves back at her. She tilts her head to one side, the little pink lizard head follows, then to the other side when she rocks the other way.

"But unwilling to negotiate. Things must eat, and beasts must do as they do. One cannot fault the wolf, though one thinks the rabbits might. Waste, is definitely bad. Cruelty, also."

Cryo drops her voice, whispering to Geir, "She would get angry at things smaller than her, smash them because she could. A resentment, or something. This one had to work hard to get her over it."

Geir nods gently, reaching up his other hand to tickle the Kobold's other side. She squeals and laughs, which cause his to chuckle. He looks then to Cryo once again. "All children do. They are working out that they can affect the world around them, they are often upset that those bigger than they can do, in the child's eyes, anything they want. It rests on the parents, the family, the community, to see to it that children understand that they must apply their strength sparingly, fairly."

Cryo exhales, standing tall and stretching her back, letting her tail rest on the ground. "She plays well with the other younglings now, shares, is not too aggressive. This one worries how she will feel when they grow large and she does not. My small softskin friends, two luchts and a goblin, take well to her. Are teaching her the lessons they know about the world this one never will. I hope the people's wisdom will serve her. I've seen a lot of good changes so far."

She sighs happily, staring at Geir, "Your words are a comfort, thank you."

Geir once more offers a gentle squeeze of her elbow, a gesture of fondness. "Part of growing up is dealing with one's short comings. She will learn, for you shall teach her. Her adopted family will welcome her into their hearts just as surely as you have done." He lets out a low breath, reaching up to tickle at one of Fang's feet, enjoying the shriek and laughter, and the small fist swatting at his hand.

"She will do well in this world, for she has a good mother."

"Ssassaa!" Little Fang cheers, pointing at Cryo. That's her.

"Yes Little Fang," Cryosanthia smiles back, wide and toothy, "This one will, and this one hopes so. She has been well met so far. Hunter Tenoc told her of his battle against the Great Tusk, she was quite enthralled. We've been making beads to hold the stories."

The whitescale moves onto another barrel, and repeats the process of checking the fire, putting more sawdust on it, and examining the meat in the barrel. She looks over, "This one should ask, you are well? Have you need of me, a thing I might do that would ease your way? Further news? This one told Shaman Iuitl of our meeting with the Emissary. She is eager to investigate."

The copper-scale's expression takes on a wistful look at the mention of Iuitl. "She is so full of energy for someone who looks tired all the time.", he says softly. Another claw tickles at Fang's other foot, a distraction that causes more giggles, and more attempts to capture said irritant. "She will be very helpful, this one believes."

"She is!" Cryo laughs, "And very short! Do no tell her this one said so, but I believe the energy is constant so on a smaller frame she will have more."

She wobbles her head, then spins around with her tail bobbing, a short dance and a contradiction of her energy theory by the lightness of her feet. "This one hopes so."

Geir's brow-ridges rise up slightly. "This one does not find her to be short at all.", he says guardedly. He eyes her tail a moment, ensuring that he's not about to get thwacked on the ankles. "I think it is just her nature to be boundless."

Cryo is more careful with her tail than her words, the copperscale's ankles are not in danger. She does make a few more leaps before settling down. "Of course, this one was not thinking. Other news I may not have shared, there is a druid who seeks to destroy the Union, a Vidor Hawfslur, and also the Felwood seems a little expanded in places with the Fae Queen's influence diminished, and Taaranites are active in Alexandria."

The copper-scale launches a two pronged attack upon the Kobold, who is quick to fend off both fingers before they can prod her feet or sides. "Hah!", she crows. "Well done!", he says, happily, and then applies a little more strength, and more giggling ensues.

"One did not know these things, but sadly, this one is not surprised by any of the news. The Felwood has been undiminished since its creation, and Taara continues to crave our destruction. One does find it odd for a druid to seek the destruction of a great druidic circle, however. Do continue?"

"Oh, well we got on his trail because some Rocs were being poisonned." Cryo says, circling around Geir to watch Little Fang twist about to track her. The whitescale then leaps over to another smoking barrel and goes through the procedure with it.

"We tracked him to a mountain, climbed it, found further evidence." She pauses, her voice a little strained, "... destroyed nests. We tracked from there, were ambushed by trolls and he attacked us. We nearly took him down but he fled as an elemental. About as tall as that tree."

The indicated tree is rather massive. "After, I went to the Green Union, they recognized his description, how this one described him acting. He had wanted to join, wished a Roc as an animal companion. They denied him, for being too hot tempered. He seems to have found power with the dark pantheon, and wishes revenge. He may have allies. This one has a map, to where Pelka last saw him. It's not an expedition this one wanted to go on alone though. The information has been shared, but naught seems to have come of it."

"Oh. One understands. Thiss druid has been twisted. Perhaps strayed a little too close, for too long, to the Felwood. Or was sick." Geir hmms, tapping at his cheek. Fang is helpful, and leans over to tap at his other cheek. The copper-scale snorts at her, pretending to bite at her hand, which she pulls away with a squeak.

"One might assist also. Such a person is dangerous, and could cause problems here. So helping the Union is a good thought."

Cryo laughs silently with a wide grin, watching the hand tapping and snapping going on near Geir's cheeks. She makes her own air-bites, "Rawrr, Rawrr."

"Thank you. This one will let you know if I hear an expedition is going out. I shall check with the Explorer's and Arcanist's guids again. He seemed quite dangerous."

The copper-scale nods, his expression one of amusement. Li'l Fang rawrs in reply, and begins to tug on Geir's horns once again. Steering him towards Cryosanthia.

"This one is pleased to be of assistance.", he says, with a chuckle as he slowly, in small steps, advances on the icy-scale. With the pink, scaly beast upon his head stretching a hand out towards Cryo.

"Oh no! There's going to be an accident!" Cryo giggles as she moves towards Geir. She leans her head forward to the outstretched, pink hand. Century horns are good for grabbing. With a leap, Little Fang transfers over and Cryosanthia is caught, tamed by the energetic pink rider. Both lizard girls laugh again.

"This one is glad of your counsel, always, Shaman Geir." Cryo says, spinning a little with the new weight on her head. She coos upwards, "Oh no I'm a wild beast, whoever will get control of me?"

"Lil Fang!" The carnation kobold shouts, holding onto horns.

Geir looks quite amused at the spectacle, shaking his head ever so slightly. "One is pleased that his counsel is of worth to you.", he says softly. "One is happy to be useful." He chuckles at Cyrosanthia's comments to Little Fang. "One suggests being careful how one says that to others.", he says, with a cheeky wink. Chuckling once more, he slaps his stomach, the scales of his armor clinking noisily.

"Ah? Ah!" Cryo looks confused, then laughs, "This one did not mean it that way. This one sees your point." She taps at the side of her head, Little Fang grabs at her fingers, and misses, "Too much Crimson Pen, it leaks out at times in unexpected ways."

Noting the copper-scale's growling stomach, she recommends, "The cookfires have freshly done meat that will satisfy. These are the winter preserves, for later. It will be a few days yet of smoking before they are done."

"One apologizes for crude humor, but it struck this one as amusing." A browridge raises up, and Geir shakes his head. "This one is fasting, and will eat later in the evening. One does commend the hunters and the smokers, it does smell delicious, and it is good to know that many will eat well this winter."

"Thank you. This one was told to use the hickory chips and sawdust, to keep the smoke cool, and too... " Cryo explains, then halts, "This one is sure you know, or would if you cared to. I am a novice at this and keen to show off."

Little Fang is turning her to the right, Cryo obliges, spinning that way in a small circle, "This one can be sure with her the information is always new. The danger is talking to others like younglings."

The copper-scale carefully steps in to offer Cryo a hug, getting a pink finger in one of his nostrils for his troubles. "Gah!", he complains, pulling his face free from danger, while Little Fang laughs uproariously. "Now that is a new experience." His nose wrinkles a little and he chuckles. "It is half a dozen of one, and six of the other, to be honest. This one does not claim to know everything, nor does he mind having things explained. Were one to advise on battle, this one might discus or argue. But for preserving foodstuffs, this one knows little, as far as practical application goes."

Cryo laughs and Little Fang tries to laugh louder. She has the pitch for it, and the one finger death poke. So successful, she's trying for Cryo's, forcing the whitescale to gently ease her back between her horns. "No nose, no nose."

"Nose! Toes!" Little Fang chirrups back, waving her hands.

Cryo defeats her with tickles, looking quite the picture as she teases the kobold on her head and attempts normal conversation. "Well, with smoking the important thing is to have good circulation around it, and a high concentration. That's what the lidded barrel is for. It needs to be cool, because too warm and it cooks, and that's more like making jerky. It's fine, I love jerky, but this way the bacon is preserved, flavoured, and will still be juicy when cooked. The main thing is to get most of the moisture out of it, and the smoke kills off the tiny parasites. Once it is done, it's only a matter of keeping them away from the flies."

Cryo laughs again, "Although, if I mess it up, it becomes Swiftclaw food, so there's that. A failsafe."

Toes, eh? Geir reaches up to snag one of Fang's toes, tugging gently, but not so hard that she can't quickly pull her foot away. She squeaks at him, and does a fairly good imitation of his snort. The corners of his lips curl upwards, and he nods to Cryo.

"One finds it easier to hunt, and allow the others to prepare it for storage. This one can make meals easily enough, however." He taps as his chin a few times.

"So how are you doing, Cryosanthia?"

Cryosanthia exhales. She stands tall, gazing off into the middle distance. "This one is improving. It's getting easier, being with the people, being in Alexandria."

Some things are unsaid, being alone, without her cihuaa. "Little Fang is helping a lot. This one finds her thoughts do not go back to the Tower, often. She keeps me present. There is too much bitterness there, coldness. At times... at times I can think about it, come to terms. Other times, it is best not thought."

She turns her sapphire gaze on the copperscale, makes a sweeping gesture towards herself, "The physical scars have healed, the other ones, on the inside, not so much."

Geir nods slowly. "This one can empathize. Understands. This one offers support. Lean on this one, if you have a need." He looks pleased then. "I am happy that you have been able to move forward, even if slowly, even if it still hurts." He reaches to tickle at Little Fang once more, and she snaps her teeth at the fingers, imitating his previous attempt to chew on hers. "It is good that she brings you joy, as all children must. It is their reason for being."

"It hurts that I brought him into it. Hurts that we fell apart so fast once we were no longer in the Tower. Hurts, that he might not have had to go at all, that it was not inevitable. Others changed the past and the paradox did not destroy us." Cryo laments quietly, staring at the base of a tree. The air around her grows colder, enough to bother Little Fang who desperately tugs on Cryo's horns in an attempt to steer her out of the unexpectedly localized cold snap.

It's sufficient to jolt the whitescale out of her wool-gathering. "Thank you Shaman Geir, this one will. And, this one tries. I am so glad of her, not the circumstances that brought Little Fang, but everything else. She helps me look ahead, this one will do all I can for her." She sounds more determined than ever.

Geir looks momentarily concerned, but actually chuckles when Fang pulls on Cryosanthia's horns. "This one can offer respite, for you both, should one wish. A quiet camp, modestly safe, nearby. Nicely sized for a small gathering. One thinks it will fare well during even Winter." He rubs at his forehead a moment. "For those times when you need to let go a while."

Cryo looks over at Geir, she doesn't look tired but there is the weight of her years in her eyes. The long, sterile isolation that was also full of horrors. She nods, "This one will want that. Some... some of my friends from Alexandria, would enjoy that and it would be better for them than Mictlan. Thank you, for your respite."

Little Fang steers her mount off to the left now, making Cryo spin widdershins before straightening her out. "This one wonders if this is how Swiftclaws feel."

Geir chuckles at length. "If it is, does it not worry you that Swiftclaws are only humoring us, allowing us to think that we have the reigns, when they mean nothing at all to them?"

His expression grows more serious. "You are most welcome. Simply inform one, and this one will maintain a quiet vigil. To ensure others do not interrupt."

Cryo wobbles her head, giving Little Fang a seating challenge, "This one could believe that. This one is not bothered as long as the destination is reached and this one is not bitten."

The whitescale makes a formal curtsey towards the copperscale, "The offer is appreciated, and this one will take advantage. Should you need stories, dance, jokes or tale-telling, you need only ask. This one will find something."

Little Fang starts slapping her tail against Cryo's neck, making her laugh, "I think she wants me to gallop."

The copper-scales tail thumps the ground, and he snorts. "Well, far be it for this one to forestall Little Fang's imperious command." Laughing, he bows in reply. "Gallop away. You may find this one hereabouts."

"Ha, Ha!" Cryosanthia tailthumps, and Little Fang tailthumps the white sith's neck. The pair end up bounding off, Cryo's acrobatic and athletic skills making her an interesting riding mount. Her carnation kobold is ecstatic, making loud joyful cries.

Cryo gallops off, calling, "This one will find you when she's back." Which, may be some time.