Cryo 2, Rain on Redridge

Log Info

• Title: Rain on Redridge
• Emitter: Merek
• Characters: Merek Level 11, Cryosanthia Level 2, Munch level 14, Arngrim, Garrett
• Place: Alexandria - H05: Redridge Mountains
• Time: Wednesday, January 22, 2020, 7:44 PM
• Summary:

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-<* H05: Redridge Mountains *>--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

The Redridge arcs high above the landscape. Towards the south, the Shining City itself is built into them. This far north, the co-forces of the Hunter and Earth Mother hold firmer sway. Along this mountainous wilderness are tucked small communities--areas the khazad had settled long ago and simply "dug in." Of late, the egalrin have also made themselves known, and their woven nests can be seen here and there.

A number of goat-paths crisscross this section of the Redridge, and though steep, the area is explorable given a little determination. Below and towards the west, the great Tornmawr glitters, its well-known ferry ready to assist travelers in their crossing. Beyond its shores, the landscape turns greener, and trees fill the spaces the mountains leave behind.

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

The rain comes down, a light drizzle that shrouds the horizon and dampens sound. Small pools of water on the path are disrupted by the ripple of raindrops. Aside from the pattering, it is quiet and cool.

A white figure walks along one of the goat paths, Cryosanthia, the Sith-Makar recently arrived at Alexandria. The size and scope of the city overwhelmed her and she withdrew to the nearby mountains, to establish a sense of scope and contemplate her place in the world. She gazes at the Tornmawr, lost in thought.

Merek has taken the time to shimmy into his dark attire, from the cargo trousers which he wears to the shirt he has on, a cloak pulled about him while he maneuvers along that river, noticing that Cryo is about. He hasn't met the woman, and makes his way that way, "Hey, haven't seen you about before."

A white figure walks along one of the goat paths, Cryosanthia, the Sith-Makar recently arrived at Alexandria. The size and scope of the city overwhelmed her and she withdrew to the nearby mountains, to establish a sense of scope and contemplate her place in the world. She gazes at the Tornmawr, lost in thought." to Garrett.

Garrett had come from Stormgarde and he wanted to see a view of the city before making his way down to them. He had curly brown hair, glasses and emerald green eyes. He wears a hood which keeps him dry from the rain. Seeing the Sith Makar, he makes his way over to her, his leather thief's garb in his pack and he wore a fancy tunic with gold buttons and leather shoes. "Miss are you alright?" He asks softly, his voice sounding soft and inviting.

Cryosanthia startles, just a little, standing up more straight. She turns to face Merek, "Hello! Well met. I am Cryosanthia. It is true, I have not been about long." And then another figure appears, Garrett. The fancy tunic is reassuring, but the timing is unsettling. She takes a step back, sliding her hand along the brim of her hat. "Yes. Hello also. I am well."

GAME: Garrett rolls disguise: (10)+7: 17
GAME: Merek rolls perception: (10)+16: 26
GAME: Cryosanthia rolls perception: (10)+0: 10
GAME: Munch rolls perception: (13)+20: 33

Merek looks over to Garrett as he appears then promptly seems to not even notice the man. He lifts his brow, then looks back to Cryo, "Merek, it's a pleasure, if you need any directions I keep star charts, if you need any," he wiggles his nose. He looks to the rain, all three of them standing about in the place, then he points to Garrett, "Not the best disguise."

Death From Above!! ...oh, wait, those aren't bandits. Flying above, Munch slows his approach, shifting direction to land a distinctly less thratening 20 or so feet away. Though he does tend less to 'land' and more 'impact the ground'. Double checking his man-sized axe, the leathery golem tucks his wings back, and raises a hand in greeting. "Evening."

Garrett smiles at the man and golem and bows. "Pleasure to meet you both. I am Garrett." He says as he watches the three people. He adjusts his pack and he smiles. "I am just a humble appraiser." He says as he looks to the various people. "I trust there is nothing wrong?" He asked curiously.

"Nothing is wrong." Cryosanthia shakes her head, focusing on Garrett. The sudden landing of the golem makes her stare. Munch is definitely something she's not seen before, at least, not up close. Tearing her gaze away she makes a small laugh and returns to Merek. "Starcharts? I would have no idea what to use them for. My fate may be written in them but I am illterate to the plot. Are you a Lore-keeper? A reminder of the holidays would be useful. So far I have been counting days."

She holds her arms wide in a friendly gesture to the others, "I am Cryosanthia, a Speaker for the Sith Makar, in case my introduction was missed."

"I keep lore, but I'm more a scribe," Merek mentions, while he takes a moment to consider Cryo, nodding a bit to the woman, "Well, it's a pleasure to meet you in any case. I mostly use them to guide by star the ways to travel," he says. He then nods to Munch when he comes about, at least a bit familiar with him, looking to Garrett, "Why are you wearing a wig?"

Munch blinks at Garrett, metal lids closing for a moment with a soft click as magicite eyes shift from green to blue. "...what's wrong with your hair?" Shifting focus, the metal man nods to Cryosanthia. "Munch the TerrorMaw, Warrior caste. Though I'm more a hunter these days." He glances to Merek, and back to Garrett. "Wig? Oh, are you doing a play?"

Garrett looks to Merek and he smiles softly and pulls his hood off and pulls his wig off, to reveal a bald head, "Because I want to cover my shame of being bald at such an young age." He says as he puts the wig back on, and adjusts his hood. "Any other questions?" He asks curiously.

"Greetings Munch the TerrorMaw, it is an honour to meet you. I have known many Hunter caste. What are...?" Cryo's question is interrupted by Garrett's sudden baldness. Hair that comes off... she's still getting used to the idea of hair. Her tail coils around her left leg, then unwinds, and coils around her right, before it straightens out behind her again. She has shifted closer to Merek, "A scribe is an honourable profession, and great for taking notes. Perhaps we can be in a grand story one day, you might write about me for the ages."

Merek looks up into the skies, then it's back to Cryosanthia when she maneuvers next to him. He blinks a bit in owlish thought, while he takes his gloves off, which look shifted into dragon claws today with a few scales trailing up his wrist a bit. "Ah, I can write about you, sure. You are dashing," he teases to the Sith'Makar while he nods, his gaze looking to Garrett, "Ah, well my apologies," he nods, then he offers a look to Munch's device.

Munch blinks again. Looking from Garrett, to Merek, to Cryosanthia, back to Garrett, buzzing softly. "...what's wrong with not having hair? He's the only one who does." he points out, motioning to Merek.

Garrett just shakes his head. "Certain humans believe an inability to grow hair will mean they cant do things needed." He tries to explain and sighs. "Anyway I assume you are a war golem? I knew one back in stormgarde, was obsessed with killing stuff and selling their weapons as a profit."

Cryosanthia 's attention is drawn to Merek's hands. She holds one of her own up beside his, long fingers covered with fine scales, thicker than the average human grip but managing to look delicate on her, even with the thick nails. She clenches it briefly into a claw grip, "Neat! I can do that too," although she demonstrates no transformation. Now that Merek is closer, that hand, that scent, "I may have some questions."

She watches the exchange between Garrett and Munch, nodding.

Merek looks thoughtfully to Cryosanthia while he nods a bit, "I'm a dragon sorcerer," he mentions, then he wiggles his clawtips while he smiles to the Sith, his eyes moving to Garrett, "Ah, I like my hair, although... Well, I think he is a golem," he mentions, while he wiggles his nose a bit, "I have fought for Amshere's folk before."

Munch shrugs, and nods to Garrett. "Pretty much. I'm not like most War Golems, but follow the same core features. Built, not born." Glancing to Cryo and Merek, the golem holds out his own hand, and after a moment the skin pulls back from his fingertip, with mitril claws protruding from beneath. "Another three out of four." He glances back to Garrett. "Unless you have claws too."

Look out below!

Another approach from above though this one is more by means of sliding down the dust and dirt, skidding with iron shod boots and then jumping down from a higher up goat-path down to the road itself. He lands with a thunderous meaty thud that's..far from graceful and more as if an ox decided to attempt acrobatics. His arrival is noisy and rumbling...nearly nine feet and close to a thousand pounds of Giantborn. Built so hugely that it looks more like some eight year old humans random attempt at describing their version of Angoron then anything far less absurd and normal.

In this fashion, Arngrim arrives and he grins and stretches his enormous arms before beginning to approach the gathered group as if this method of dropping in uninvited and unannounced is as normal as the sun rising and setting. The rumbling continuing slide of dust and debris caused by his sliding descent and jump serves to frame his immense frame as it plumes around him and then gently wafts through the air towards and over the group before dissipating.

"Greetings!" he rumbles, bass voice vibrating and almost unintelligible in its rumbling tone, "Travelers? Do you go to Alexandria?"

Garrett shakes his head. "No claws." He says as he holds his hood and hair down from the massive landing of the giantborn. "I would rate that a 2 out of five. Terrible landing and no grace what so ever." He says with a smirk to the giantborn and he shrugs.

Cryo is not one to pass up a friendly gesture, and the way Munch exposed his hand invited shaking it. Her casual grip became a lot stronger at the sudden appearance of Arngrim, an ox in humanoid form. Being from Am'Shere she's used to giant bugs, giant lizards, giant buildings. Suddenly appearing giant born, not so much. She finds she's pulled herself close to Munch, with a hand on his wrist and the other gripping his palm tight. She lets go, takes a cue from Garrett and adjusts her hat. She answers, "Yes! Alexandria is nearby, full of new and wonderful sights. I am about these mountains for the day and will be returning."

She leans close to Merek, quietly explaining, "My bloodline was awakened also, I will have a lot more questions, I think."

Merek doesn't look like he is doing well with so many folk which look to be coming in, then he blinks at Cryosanthia's words while he looks between the people. "Merek," he greets, to those that he doesn't know, then he finds himself lingering about with the Sith'Makar while he shifts his cloak about him, offering a hand as well, his smoldering eyes like lit coals looking to her, "Ah, of course, I can answer likely." He smiles.

Munch is about as solid to hold onto as a statue, firm and heavy. He glances to the arrival of the giant man, but doesn't seem particularly surprised or concerned. "Greetings! I was hunting bandits. Were a couple tales of merchants attacked, but I've found nothing of related interest today. What brings you out and about?"

"I am actually a rather graceful dancer when I choose to be!" remarks Arngrim, un perturbed by the review of his arrival as he bears down on the group. He lifts a hand up to press it against his monstrous chest, a sub conscious swagger to his movements as he adds, "Why, I was once in a haunted ballroom where the sorcery of the spirit was forcing my companions and I to have to successfully dance before we could destroy the things threatening us. I was quite successfull..."

He inclines his head to Cryosanthia, studying her curiously but with an easy going gaze..and he then turns his attention to the golem and he blinks a few times before rubbing his massive jaw in thought, "Oooh? Bandits? Is it particularly bad? I wasn't aware these roads were being troubled? And yes! Alexandria is quite interesting. Perhaps not a wonder of the world yet but..maybe that depends on your point of view."

Garrett chuckles. "I hope so friend...you look like a living embodiment of a war god." He says as he watches the giantborn and he looks to the others. He wears a green tunic with gold buttons and a pair of leather boots. He looks back to Cryosanthia. "If you need a place to stay I know a few friends who can provide a place until you get your own."

Cryosanthia senses a hestiation on Merek's part. She closes her hand on his, interlacing fingers, her scales feeling like a soft leather glove and warmer than expected. She seems more comfortable with a crowd, her tail loose and away from her legs, and she grins as she listens to the giantborn's story. As it finishes, she waves with her free hand in a gesture that incorporates the others. "Well met, War God Dancer. These are my new friends, Munch the TerrorMaw, Garrett the... Fashionable? And Merek the Scribe. I am Cryosanthia! The... in need of a home and a title, it would seem." She grins wanely at Garrett, unaware of how many teeth she's showing, still gripping Merek.

Merek blinks a bit, then he notices that a hand looks to be upon his. He does mirror that gesture with an entwining, his cheeks tinted a bit. He does nod a bit thankfully to the comfort gesture, while he seems to think about the conversation as a whole, and looks then to the new arrival. "Priest of Eluna, Theurge." Wasn't he a sorcerer? Can someone be both? Those that know what a Theurge is might notice. "I came about as was a wonderful evening for making my star chart!"

Munch shakes his head to the giant. "Just rumors of rumors. Bandits usually take the winter off. Not enough travelers and too easy to follow tracks. Is always a chance someone got desperate or stupid, but didn't find anything today."

"Why thank you." says Arngrim as he swivels his attention to Garrett, "But don't say that -to- loudly, less some random aspect of Kor over hear you and curse me with some form of lessening and shrinking." He shudders as if the very thought is horrifying, "You know what this..supposed plague of people having their forms altered.. that's not as far fetched as one might think..."

He seems affable enough despite his potentially frightening immensity as he returns his smile to the others, nodding as Merek speaks though he answers Munch on the talk of bandits, "Rumors often have a kernel of truth though.. or so I've been told. It is good to be wary, but yes..the local winters can be fierce. It is most likely any organized group of attackers may have moved further east into The Desolation where the cold weather fails against the supernatural conditions there. They'd at least find more warmth along the territorial edges and more like minded individuals.."

GAME: Cryosanthia casts Ghost Sound. Caster Level: 1 DC: 13
GAME: Merek rolls spellcraft: (3)+17: 20

"I... well I guess it's a good thing I have nothing worth taking! I had no idea about Bandits." Cryosanthia squeezes Merek's hand, holding. Brushing at the brim of her hat, "It seems silly to get homesick in just one day. It didn't feel like much, stepping through the portal, but Am'Shere is very far away and Alexandria is larger than I was expecting. I came out here to collect myself, and well..."

She wiggles her fingers arcanely, gesturing off the side of the path. Ghostly Sounds of insects and small jungle predators are emmanate from the bushes, "...I wanted things to sound a bit like home without frightening anyone. And...w hat is that about people being altered? How?"

Merek does look a bit more comfortable, while he looks between them, "Ah, well they sometimes come about, though generally Alexandria is pretty safe," he admits, then he shifts his attention to Cryosanthia, his longcoat shifting about upon him a bit as well. "I also make wondrous items, if you ever need relics of power, fairly cheap." He nods a bit while he squeezes the hand back. He does look to Munch and Arn, "I usually fish in this place."

Munch nods again. "Bandits happen around here, usually nothing more than some locals getting rowdy or refugees getting desperate. More organized groups happen, but we're close enough to the city the Watch and Guild usually put and end to them, or at least encourage them to move on." He looks to Cryo, and shrugs. "I don't know the details of it. At least two who woke up with their lower halves altered. One her legs replaced with a drake's body, the other a fawn. Both are healthy and hale, just... changed. Weird, but not dangerous, like the Plague, or the vampire."

"Fishing, I should get a fishing pole! And I did have my eye on a wondrous item, I will be sure to mention it when I am better situated. I'm still, well, looking for things to do. I'm told there are even small jobs at the Explorer's guild that pay living expenses." Cryo listens intently as Munch explains, "That's surprisingly powerful magic, and it cannot be dispelled? And... plague and a vampire are in Alexandria as well? I can't imagine any way I would assist with any of these. Plague and a vampire would not bother you, I think, yes? I have not had experience with your kind. I do like your scales, they are very attractive."

GAME: Merek casts Dancing Lights. Caster Level: 6 DC: 14

"What do your tattoos mean?" Merek asks curiously, while he keeps to the lizard woman while his gaze shifts to Munch in thought. "Well, it can be dispel'd, but it means the creature that makes the issue is free to give other folk the illness." He nods a bit while he shifts his attention to Cryosanthia, and lifts up the free hand to shift a green glowing flame about. Sparkly!

Munch buzzes quietly. "I guess the drake-taur can't be dispelled, I don't know the details. As for plagues and vampires, normal ones wouldn't worry me. These ones... these are different. The Plague is some sort of magic, and it even hits golems. The vampire is Kol DemonTry. I've never met, but I'm told he's -very- powerful. There aren't too many warriors I'd call my equal in single combat, but Azog is one of them, and Azog wasn't able to stop him."

GAME: Merek rolls will: (15)+13: 28

Merek tenses up a lot at the mention of Kol.

Cryosanthia releases her hold, her hand drifting to her forearm where she traces some of them with her fingers. She hesitates as she speaks, at first quiet then forcing herself to be more bold. "They're... they are magic sigils and how my draconic bloodline was awakened. My ancestry is pure White Dragon. It's funny, I never felt cold but also never thought about it."

Cryo nods to Munch's explanations, although her eyes keep getting drawn away to the dancing lights off the side of the trail. She keeps enough attention to reply, "I'll be wary then, of plague, of vampires and accidentally turning into something else. How, I have no idea! I shall have to improvise."

Munch's words seem to break Arngrim out of whatever lethargic thinking he was in and he gives the War Golem a good once over. "Oooh? Hmm..I did try sparring Azog.. he caught me unawares with his skill! I've intended to try again and see how matters might go without The Fates being whimsical with me. Perhaps you and I might..have a match.." he grins, full toothed, perhaps a little crazy looking before he relaxes his grin and grows more serious, "The one you mentioned...the draketaur..said there are others who are changed besides those you mentioned. A woman into a cow, other things.." He shakes his head and folds his arms, muscles literally creaking like stretching leather as his body fights for space with itself.. "I do not like it. The people may seem well but they are not as they should be and were changed against their will. As to a vampire? I am only just hearing about this...." He grins once more, though it's less, 'Let's fight!' and more an attempt to be reassuring as he looks at Cryo, "All will be well."

Merek looks a bit in his thoughts, while he nods a bit to the people there, "Kol and Yukia are powerful," he mentions, while he takes a moment to look to the tattoos, then he offers a hand, if permitted, to trace them and also consider it, as if memorizing the lines. Then he adds, "You don't have to worry, it's not likely you will run into things like that, if you do, I will protect ya."

Munch looks to Merek. "I take it you've encountred Kol. 'Yukia'? That's the ice witch or whatever?" He buzzes softly at Arngrim's words, magicite eyes flashing a moment. "We should. Not here though, coloseium, maybe."

Cryosanthia holds out her arm to allow Merek to inspect her markings. She seems to have a thick hide, even for a Sith-Makar, and the tattoos are cut deep. Even if she sheds her scales they are still going to be there. There is a sheen, or a faint eldrich glow, that stands out against her white scales. She nods to Merek and Arngrim, "Thank you, I am reassured. I will take you up on that. If you ever see an exploding firework dragon, that's probably me. It might not be trouble, but still probably me. I also think it would be fascinating to watch your battle in the colloseium. Will there be dancing too? I can supply drums."

Merek looks thoughtful a bit, while he shifts his longcoat a bit, looking to take a parchment which he writes upon, nodding a bit. He then seems to consider, "It does give you an exotic look," he says of the tattoos, while he takes a moment to stand with Cryosanthia, looking then to the two, "Ah, well a fight would be pretty interesting to watch," he admits.

"Ah yes, of course!" responds Arngrim to Munch, grinning again, "More people there, you know? Also warmer. No dancing though. At least not from me. I have to save that for very special occasions otherwise it becomes mundane!" He then places his massive fists together in a sort of bow. Possibly a Dran thing, or Angoron thing. "I take my leave now. I thank you for the diversion but I must continue my activities here. I will, perhaps, see all of you in the city some day in the near future."

With that, the conversation seems ended. He turns and begins making his way further down the road..headed..who knows?

Munch buzzes a moment and shrugs. "I've heard fighting called a 'dance of blades' but that's about all the dancing I do. Usually I just break things and hurt people." He raises a fist in farewell to the giant, a Korrite gesture, rather than one of Angoron.

"Thanks, they were a ... gift. And unlocked my magic." Cryosanthia explains, putting her hands together to mimic Arngrim's short bow, followed by Munch's raised fist. So many polite ways to say farewell. She pats at the rapier at her side, "For me, it is the dance of blades, all whippy and circular, feinting and being precise. Mainly. Sometimes you do have to just get your claws in."

Merek looks thoughtful while he smooths back his hair a bit, then he looks to Cryosanthia with a nod, waving to Arn, while he nods to Munch as well. "Either way, dancing is... Pretty fun, I would like to have a dance partner if one comes up in a ball," he says, offering a little grin to the sith, while he looks a bit tired. He has since the man Kol was mentioned, although he's paying attention as well.

Munch buzzes cheerfully, and pulls the massive adamantine greataxe from his back. Larger than many people, let alone what they can lift or weild, the golem sets it down on the haft, holding the cressant blade. The dragon head eteched into the metal blinks it's eye, and peers around. "Reaver and I stick to raw power, though speed is always good."

The etched head speaks, it's voice similar, but distinct from the golems. "A pleasure to make your aquaintence, miss Cryosanthia."

"Silver Empress!" Cryosanthia crouches to be at eye-level with the blade, hands hovering as she barely holds back, still wise enough not to touch a weapon. She stares into the eye, up at Munch, then back at the etched dragon, "Hello! Reaver? Yes, Reaver. Hi! I... I never met a dragon blade before. Hi!"

Merek looks as Cryosanthia becomes distracted by the weapon, and looks from the woman to the axe then to Munch while he shifts about to listen to nature while he waits.

Reaver chuckles. "Why thank you. I'm not sure what you mean by 'dragon blade.' We were built with dragon parts, but I'm mostly enchanted metal. Our tale is a bit complex, but in short Munch here could have been a sorcerer if he wanted, but chose to be a warrior instead. I'm the part of him that was more magical minded, and moved out to have some independance... not that it worked out so well, since I still need him to carry me."

Cryosanthia peers at the greataxe from one side then the other, examining the etching and the size of the thing. Her tail pulls in close to her legs. "That's... huh. Well it's better than being made into a book. Does it hurt if you get poked in the eye? Do you feel anything at all? Do you get bored and need someone to read a book to you, or turn the pages?"

Merek watches as the tail moves about, his eyes following with their smoldering coal-like gold while he shifts his attention to Munch and axe, then back to Cryosanthia.

Reaver chuckles again. "I'm starmetal, there's very little that can hurt me, though was at least one demon who made things uncomfortable. I sometimes get bored, but Munch is better about reading than he used to be. Part of his own draconic development. I have enough magic I could read on my own, but, we're entwined, being apart is... uncomfortable."

"That's very neat. I'm very interested in draconic development, and dragons, since my heritage was awakened. I guess you can tell where each other are, if you're apart?" Cryosanthia stands back up to her full height, and back a little closer to Merek. Her tail, limbs, seem less 'tucked close' and more back to comfortably taking up space. She looks between Merek and Munch, "I gather you both have knowledge of bloodlines and dragons? All lizardfolk are descended from dragons, I never expected it to be so relevant. And White Dragons aren't nice... I'm not sure what to think that I'm a little bit one. Oh, and Merek, before I forget, a ball sounds wonderful. I'd love to go to one. I'll need some warning so I can learn how to dance, and get something to wear besides armour."

"Pleasure to meet with you," Merek offers to that axe, while he looks to Munch with a nod, eyes back then to Cryosanthia and he smiles a bit, looking just a bit not as distant, "That'd be wonderful, could always make a set of sleeves that can shift into any attire. I know a bit about dancing, I can teach you." He looks between the two then, to answer. "I can teach you a lot about sorcery when it comes to dragon lines, I also know a lot about divine energy which as a Theurge, it's these two fields that come clean together!"

Munch buzzes and shrugs. "Dragons may be set by their colors, but we're not. We can be whatever we want, if we're willing to walk the path to get there." The golem buzzes and shrugs again. "Clothes are beyond me, have never quite understood them. You could try asking Sandy, she runs a clothing shop."

"Clothes are armour for social situations." Cryosanthia states tapping her hat, "Or against the rain. They are a way to convey function, and rank, malleable to suit the situation. Sometimes it really is simply weak protective armour, like for blacksmiths or miners. We don't use a lot in Am'Shere, because of the Jungle, and what is used is mostly ceremonial, but it was emphasized to me that it's important to other cultures and I should pay attention to it as a Speaker. I appreciate the offers Merek, both the sleeves and the lessons sound great. I'm not sure what I want to do. I guess, I want to be a little dragon. Knowing more about what might happen if I try to be would be helpful. Also, this Sandy that runs a clothing shop, is she easy to find?"

"You can usually find Sandy if you're looking for the woman," Merek mentions, chuckling a bit at Munch's comment, while he shifts his attention to Cryosanthia in thought. "Well, I know a bit about Dragon Priests as well as there are spells I think to become like them, not to mention as you become further into the ancestry." He nods to the woman, "Culture learning can be fun."

Munch perks slightly. "You want to turn into a dragon? It's not easy, but a few of us locally can manage it. Hun'rar turns into a red dragon, and there's a couple wizards who use spells, which I guess still counts."

Cryosanthia wriggles her fingers through motions against her palm, not quite spell gestures, more like mental aids for thought processes similar to spells. Being fidgity in a logical way. "I want... I think I want the idea of a dragon. As Sith-Makar we know, we KNOW we descended from dragons. So, so far, and so much smaller. It's not about size, or power, it's being a thing of legends. Known, remembered, feared, respected. Not forgotten. And maybe I'll find that in my blood, I don't know."

Merek nods a bit to Munch, then he looks to Cryo, "I will write legends of you, I'm sure you will achieve it, there is more to it than that though, I think whatever it gives you, you will do well." He smiles a bit, then motions, "I've met a few dragons, even fought one. It was... Interesting."

Munch nods to Merek. "I've fought several dragons, along side others. They're tough, but only one that ever worried me was Heth." Which might say more about munch than about dragons.

"I can't imagine fighting a dragon. I'd want to talk its earholes closed. I doubt sticking my rapier up its nose would dissuade one." Cryo comments, then tilts her head in concentration, "There's a dragon named Heth about?"

"Not here, he is a dragon of darkness from lands away from us," Merek mentions, then he lifts his shoulders a bit, "He's extremely powerful. I remember word of him when I fought in the Rune Wars," he says. He then settles up a bit next to Cryo while he seems to be within his thoughts. A nod offered to Munch, "Anyway, there's much nicer things here in the city, like great stores."

Munch blinks with a click. "...you don't know Heth? He's the terror that destoryed Dragonier, set loose the hordes of wights there, or at least oversees them. He's... huge. Attacked the city of Rune. Entire city of the most powerful wizards, and best they could do was run away." The golem buzzes a moment. "To be fair, they were kinda distracted by the Dran army storming the wall... those guys were good fighters... I was down in the sewers, didn't find out about Heth showing up until after the fact."

Cryosanthia nods slowly, her arms lightly folded, she is rubbing at the tattoos on her forearms. "I was out of touch for a while, and maybe no one thought to tell me when I got back, or kept it from me because I was too young before I left. Depending whenever it happened. The news might not have spread much beyond portal, or only among the Warrior Caste. It sounds... horrific."

"Yes, it is," Merek mentions, clearly looking like the topic isn't too pleasant for him, "Anyway, what brought you to Alexandros?" he asks then to Cryosanthia with a look to Munch and to his curious weapon, while he makes the conversation.

Munch considers a moment, and shrugs. "Stole away on an airship, it was comming here. Seemed a nice place, so didn't leave. I come from Gustav, where everything is done for the good of the nation. Everyone has jobs, to aid the nation. They thought I'd be better off taken apart and studied. I disagreed." He buzzes quietly. "It's... not a bad place. But I like it here better."

"Taken apart? I understand why you would want to leave." Cryosanthia looks at Munch. She sways a little from side to side, a grand scale version of the bobbing anoles do. "For me, it is a fresh start. To share the wit and wisdom of the Sith-Makar and better understand the other cultures. To leave a mark. That's the overall intent, the details are still being worked out. Make friends and find something to do, those seem like good specifics."

Merek looks thoughtful a bit, then he nods to the two, while he shifts his longcoat about him. "My family is from Veyshan, but I was raised in Rune," he says. He does make a face while he seems to consider. "I am descended from Kulthians though, best I know," he admits.

Munch buzzes thoughfully. "Some of the artificers here want to take me apart too, but they listen when I say no. It's not so much the being taken apart, I do it now and again for upgrades, it's being sure I'll be put back together again."

"You will have to show me these places on a map, Merek, they are only names to me." Cryosanthia says. She nods along to Munch's explanation, "I'm not familiar with what an Artificer is, or does. I would not be comfortable being able to be taken to pieces, and I would be rare with my trust. You are wise to avoid them."

"I have little desire to take people into pieces," Merek mentions, while he nods to the two, then he looks to Cryo, "I can show you a map, also a great place to settle in at a Inn," he says. He then looks to the two, "Want to walk back to town with me? I can tell you about the map on the way, we can all get something to eat before a nap!"

Munch considers a moment, and flexs his wings. "I usually fly, but it's dark enough the guard get worried of things flapping overhead. Might be better to walk."

Cryosanthia smiles widely, "I would love to go back to town and get something to eat. Alexandros food is fascinating! So many variations on things. I've seen other sorts of food before, not everything in the jungle is a variation of lizard on a stick..." Only, almost everything. She takes Merek's hand, giving it a scaley squeeze and wiggles her fingers at Munch, "It's set then, let's go. Hey how much can you carry? When it's light maybe, do you think you could give me a ride? Do they let you fly over the city, or does that worry people too much? Also, I was wondering...."

Questions, questions. She has a lot of questions, but it's a long walk back to the city, so there's time.

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-<* END LOG *>--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-<* Dramtis Personae  *>-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Arngrim      8'7      876 Lb     Giantborn         Male      An outrageously muscled and massive Giantborn. Hyuge.
Cryosanthia  6'7"     245 Lb     Sith-Makar        Female    A dashingly tall, lithe white lizardgirl with tattoos.
Garrett      5'8"     160 Lb     Half-Elf          Male      A human in black leather, constantly wearing a hood
Merek        5'10"    215 Lb     Human             Male      A black-haired, dusky male with golden eyes.
Munch        6'5"     225 Lb     War Golem         Male      Dreadlocked golem with metal scales.
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-