Of Names and Snatchlings

Log Info

• Title: Of Names and Snatchlings

• Emitter: Harkashan

• Characters: Harkashan, Geir, Skielstregar, Aelwyn

• Place: Akochilistli Kuauhtla, Am'Shere

• Summary: Harkashan fills in Skielstregar, Aelwyn, and Geir upon a trip to a local Shaman. As well as ongoings with Charneth attempting to steal hatchlings.

It's been roughly a day since Harkashan and Rune returned after kind of 'disappearing in the night'. Harkashan had left a message with a few of his people that he'd be heading out though, so it's not like it was unexpected. Just - without a lot of information to go off of.

Stepping from one of the houses meant to house travelers, Harkashan looks a bit better rested than he has in the last few days. The early morning sun beams down on the paths that run throughout Akochilistli Kuauhtla, and there's the usual hubub of Hunters preparing to leave for the day, gathering various tools and doing some checks.

Stepping along the paths, Harkashan stops by one of the local Hotstones where food would be being made in the evening. A set of stone tools being used to clean it. Water being splashed over the black surface, causing steam to rise from it as a massive Sith-makar figure works it.

"Peace upon your nest." The big one mentions. "Peace upon your nest." Harkashan answers politely, bowing his head, as he continues his travels towards the edge of the community and sits down on a large stone in order to watch the jungle. Enjoying the sounds around him. The warm sun on his scales. Letting out a long sound, considering where he's finding himself in his life right now.

A copper-scale lays upon one of the warming stones, spread out on his stomach. Dressed down in a simple loincloth, Geir appears to be dozing. His tail lays curled to one side, the very tip twitching up and down every so often. Scars, many years old, cover his back, some simply mismatched scales, others more obvious in areas where scales have never regrown.

A tired sounding sigh is heard, followed by "Peace upon your nessst.", this offered up to the others nearby.

Finding his place in the settlement was a strange endeavor. Skielstregar was, despite his nervousness, more than willing to do anything and everything that others couldn't do. Primarily physical lifting or wrangling large beasts into submission. Though it was no secret that his presence always kept others of the jungle on edge. So, his enjoyment was kept at a bit of a distance.

That is, until his halberd grows a mind of its own, and drags him by the tail towards the Hotstones. "MMmmst. Mmmt," the weapon seemingly growls, holding onto the armored tail in its maw.

Skielstregar flails. "No no, this one doesn't need to-" he says back in his native tongue before a rock trips him over. Down into the ground in a clatter.

A pile of silver scales is delivered to the gathering space of Hotstones. The halberd, Malefic, spits out the tail and looks triumphant. Skiel groans, opting to stay on the jungle floor. "... peace on your nests..." he murmurs. Inhale. "... Harkashan?" Perk up to spy. "Ah. Hello. This one was worried that they didn't see you recently."

And as usual, a certain ruddy sith-makar was completely irreverent of all that was sith and makar. Red ribbons trail off his horns and the glaive, as he carried a large satchel off his shoulder. Sun shone off the broadly grinning Dragoon. "Nests, be in peace," He greets the gathered makari. "This one had to follow Silver." The draconian explains, tail swaying behind him as he looks at the tail. Once halberded, and greatly having amused the sith. "And a journey it was."

"Copper, Silver, Lava." The Dragoon greets, with another wave of his tail. "It is good to see each in health."

"Peace upon your nest." Harkashan remarks, spotting Geir laying on one of the warming stones at the edge of town, close to his seating spot. Bowing his head to the scarred one Considering them for a moment. "It seems you have lived a great many tales, Shaman Geir." Harkashan proposes to the copper-scale.

Before being distracted by the sight of a Sith-makar being dragged by the tail. One might expect a disappointed Tribe-mate, or a hatchling being up to no good and being told off by one of the ones raising them. But no, this is Skielstregar, dragged by a halberd.

"Kin?" He questions, as Malefic 'spits out' the tail, and the silverscale is laid out across the Hotstone with Geir. "It seems you're having... a day." He rumbles, looking to Malefic.

"Yes. I was away with Rune for a short trek to visit a local Shaman. Sorry I did not wake you." He apologizes. "Though there will be much more travel in the near future." He adds.

He then nods to Aelwyn. "How did the mighty Warrior end up like this?" Harkashan inquires with the ruddy one.

Geir's tail lifts and thumps at the arrival of the silver-scale, and lifts and thumps once more as Aelwyn arrives shortly afterwards. The copper-scale chuckles, his expression mirthful as he eyes Skielstregar. "Peace upon your nesst. Your weapon issss... correct, if a little forward with your needs and wants, yes? It is good to see your mirror-like shine once more. Have you been enjoying your time back in Am'shere?" His eyes, still narrowed and sleepy looking, shift then to Aelwyn. "This one is enjoying the travel, and mother Am'shere."

The copper-scale's expression grows distant, his eyes looking somewhere far, far away for a few moments, before his gaze finds Harkashan. "This one suffered lengthy abuse at the hands of Charn when he was younger. This one stayed with his captors to free others of the People, before attempting escape. The scars are but one of the many ... gifts given to this one."

Skielstregar gets up to a sitting position, rubbing his face with a groan. He looks about, seeing all that are gathered. "Ah... Shaman Geir. Dragoon Aelwyn. Hello. Erm, yes. Well. No. This one was just-"

"Skielstregar was waffling too much about socializing, so I decided for him!" Malefic, the eerie halberd, grins.

The silverscale's face frosts a bit. ".. n-no, this one wasn't... bah. Fine," he grumbles. "Erm, yes, Shaman Geir. This one has for the most part. It is... a bit different than Mictlan. Still getting used to it."

He bows his head towards Harkashan. "Ah. Very well. This one looks forward to such travel. They were just worried the jungle took you two. They hope the shaman helped in some manner."

There's a weak rub of Skiel's neck as he looks to Geir. "This one understands, Shaman Geir. They are sorry you had to go through such things."

The large satchel Aelwyn was carrying is lowered down to the ground. He clicks his teeth at Harkashan. "This one would have spoken of heroic deeds and the selfless sacrifices Silver went through, yet one cannot outlie the chill on their face." A broad grin.

The copper scaled sith's comments makes the Dragoon turn his head though; and he steps closer. Hand lays over the variety of scars, lightly trailing over them. "This one thinks Copper has taken them for his; and worn them well." He rumbles. "As one should." The hand leaves, as Aelwyn stands there, staring for a moment, almost as if lost in thought of his own.

Then that macabre grin returns on his face. "And this one admits they lessen Copper's rugged charm none."

There's this deep growly rumble of a sound as Geir's mention of Charn. No doubt Geir might have wished he could have aided Rune in putting an end to one of theirs.

Perhaps he'll get a chance in the near future.

"Thank you for what you've done for your Kin." He answers Geir, knowing that no doubt Geir didn't do that for a thank you and a pat on his back. "I care little for the Charnite ideas of a 'gift'." He adds.

"I see." Harkashan then answers, as Malefic answers for Skielstregar on why he's here now. "It is indeed a bit different than Mictlan. Mictlan is on the other side, so it seems a lot more travelers. It integrates with the other cultures more than this place." One might suggest that this spice market is more 'pure' - but he doesn't follow the Teacher.

"The Shaman... did." He then adds. "Say, have you ever heard the name 'Thirku'?" He asks - before clicking his teeth at Aelwyn in reply, then snake-like tongue-tasting the air.

The copper tail swings around to prod at the hand that tastes the scars on the copper's back. "It is well, Shaman Harkashan, Warriors Skiel and Aelwyn. There is no need for sorrow, sorry or thanks. This one would not be this one, were it not for the experiences in Charn. This one has known pain, sorrow, loss, and very briefly, for one shining moment, joy. Love.

The copper-scale shifts on the rock, ending up on his side, showing off a chest that is more scarred than the back, patches of scales damaged beyond regrowth, or missing entirely.

"This one often wonders who he would be, had he decided not to follow Maksur. Or if they had not go down separate paths." Geir lets out a hearty, thought somewhat hollow, laugh. It ends in a cough, and acrid smoke trailing from his nostrils. "That one... temptress." The copper shakes his head. "All of these things have made this one what he is. Shaman out of tribe, having to stand alone for his caste day, even as he was surrounded by the People. This one has endured and is what he is."

Skielstregar looks off into the jungle, pretending to not be hearing the Dragoon. But the ice stays. And the embarrassment is clearly there. Shaking his head, he watches Aelwyn with Geir. Eyes resting on the ungrowing scales on his chest. "And for that we are all the wiser with your wisdom through age, Shaman," he hums before turning back to Harkashan. A minor grimace crosses his face. "Sssa. Their gifts are... eh." He rubs at his chest over the breastplate as he looks back to Geir's missing scales.

The silverscale dips his head towards Hark. "Very different. Mictlan has accepted this one, but being with the People here always makes this one... nervous. To be honest, this one comes to Am'shere every now and then to deliver dry firewood to a shaman. Miquitlani. Very good food. Helped her cleanse river."

He blinks. Looks up. Scratches his chin with a too-long talon. "Thirku..." Ponder. Head shake. "No, sorry, this one does not know that name-"

Malefic's metal maw pops to speak, "Mmm. Thirku. Thirku. That sounds familiar. I don't remember well enough though! I feel like I should know..." Can a weapon shrug? Apparently not, but the eddies of one seem to be there as the jagged crack twists to a noncommittal slant.

Aelwyn flicks his tail at Harkashan and then flashes his own tongue; though this one simply twists in the air. He does not interrupt Geir though, instead moving to stand by his large satchel.

"No fall that does not belie a chance." The Dragoon rumbles, swaying his tail behind him. "Even a chain can teach many things, this one has found." The ruddy sith-makar hoists the satchel up over his shoulders, moving to look towards Geir. He bows his head respectfully. "This one is glad that they have experienced all those things, and not the ones forced to them."

As far as the mystery of Thirku goes, the draconian tilts his head towards Harkashan, waiting for the Hotstone to explain."

There's a little rumble of concern as Geir mentions a short-lived Love. It is a worry he has sometimes. It's obvious to most people that Harkashan has particular feelings for Rune. He would have a rather difficult time, were he to lose her from his life.

He wants to ask Geir how he coped, but decides to leave that for another time. "You never stand alone amongst your Caste or Tribe as long as you are with the Children of Flame." Harkashan answers Geir.

He turns his body more fully, tail shifting, and then croons; "That is the one we visited. Miquitlani. Very good food." He agrees, nodding his head a few times. "But do not be too nervous. The People will accept you." Harkashan adds.

Then, a perk. A widening in his eyes. "You do?" Harkashan asks of Malefic. But, only familiarity. There's a bemusement in Harkashan's tone. "A feeling of Deja Vu, Malefic?" He teases, though it's a joke somewhat at his own expense.

Seeing Aelwyn's turn of the head, Harkashan explains; "It appears I've got a connection to a being by that name ever since I was a Hatchling. It's where those memories are coming from... though it feels like... it's more than just its memories. Them..." He shakes his head a bit.

"I'm still sorting it out." As he lifts his arm and looks at some of the markings on his scales. Intricate lava-like patterns that seem more alive. "But that's where the answers seem to lie. Back home with my family."

Geir rumbles and shakes his head, "Thirku, this one does not recall the name. This one shall think upon it. And would join you, if you require help in finding whom the Sith is."

The copper-scale offers the silver a nod, "Indeed, they make poor gift givers. But they shall pay, in the end, for their poor gifts. The People will be the victors, though the battles and wars are long."

Geir nods to Aelwyn, his tail swinging out to tap at the ruddy-scale's shoulder. "May you be strong enough to do so, yet blessed enough to never have to."

His gaze returns to Harkashan. "What is truth and what is felt are often two different things. And the difference is as vast as the time difference between youth and adulthood."

Skielstregar thumbs his holy symbol, particularly the red scale on his necklace, at the mention of love. But he nods along with sentiments towards Geir. He hums, somewhat warmer now. "Sssa. Miquitlani, this one is glad you go to meet them. And the People will. They are confident of it, but it is... ah... all in this one's head, so to speak."

The silverscale blinks at Malefic. And the halberd grins back to Harkashan. "I do! I think so. It's hard to remember that far back. I only really remember the things I've smashed into. Maybe I bit them a long time ago?" it ponders, bemused.

The silverscale shake his head at his weapon. "We will have words." He shifts back to Harkashan, leaning forward. Tilts his head. Sniffs. "... that does explain quite a bit, Deathsinger. Your connection stronger than it appears, maybe?"

He eyes the lava markings. Drifting his attention over them before looking to his own arms. "This one will still go with you to your family to help get this development clarified."

He lightly growls in agreement with Geir. "Ssa. They will pay. Eventually. We must have patience."

And finally, his attention drops to Aelwyn. Blinks. "... what do you have?" he asks, nothing the large bag.

Aelwyn rumbles, "Like little grains of sand, once familiar, ever shifting." The Dragoon rumbles at Harkashan, playfully snapping his teeth flicking his tongue out.

The Dragoon then turns his head towards Geir, a more solemn look returning to his face - and he bows, without much word, to the other's tail tap. "Let it."

With a gentle sway of his body, and a parting tap of tails to Geir, The Dragoon momentarily leans against Silver's back. "Intrigue; Silver. This one has to go and bury them; lest curious eyes find too many things to admire beyond this one's scales." He rumbles, "Be gentle on this one, Malefic." With a bow of his head, he then carries along, walking with his lazy rolling gait.

"It is no Sith-makar. It is Dragon." Harkashan answers Geir when he speaks of finding it. "It is a being of scale and feather, lava and blood and crystal." Harkashan rumbles, speaking of visions he'd seen. Visions that have stayed with him since. Words that create pressure. His voice is a bit tense as he speaks of those words.

He then rumbles a sound at the mention of truth and time. Harkasha, who has been alive since before the Awakening, understands the trials of time all too well.

After all, he remembers a time before the Charn.

Then Skielstregar leans forward towards him. Sniffing at him. Harkashan considers him for a moment...

Then bites on one of Skielstregar's horns. Not a bite-to-harm or even to show aggression of any sort. Just a nomf of appreciation. The kind of thing a Sith-makar would do to someone they bear some Sith-Makar brand affection for.

Releasing it soon there-after. "Yes, it appears the connection is growing stronger over time." He then answers Skielstregar. "Hrrm." He then adds; "My family lives far from here. So your assistance will be most useful."

"Speaking of Charn. I do not know if Shaman Geir has told you yet, but he and some of our friends recently caught a Charnite at the edge of this place..." There's a pregnant pause for a moment, realizing what he's about to add. "... trying to steal away a Hatchling."

"Peace on your nest, Aelwyn. Be well, and let us meet again soon, and take a meal together, yes?" Another tap upon the ruddy-scales's back comes from the copper tail.

"This one looks forward to drawing weapons together, Skielstregar. Crossing weapons with the foes of our People. The clashing ring, the sounds of blood in our ears. May we be dead a day before the Deathsinging Dragon is done counting the dead by our hands."

The copper tail slashes back and forth behind him.

Geir's eyes widen, "A dragon?! Are we to meet them? Are they... friend or foe?" He blinks, and then laughs loudly. "Indeed, a Charnite pretending to be a swiftclaw, with.." He pauses, eyeing Harkashan at length, did he just... chew affectionately on the silver-scale? "With a hatchling in their arms. And it was enjoyable to see Rune run them through. Perhaps enjoyable is not the correct word. A relief. Not-unhappiness at his passing."

Skielstregar gives a little wave to Aelwyn as he departs. "Peace on your nest, Aelwyn. Erm, good luck with.. burying?" he says, a tinge confused. Malefic just grins.

His attention all but whips back to Harkashan at the mention of such a reverent being. Scaled brows shooting up. "... that does... does explain quite a lot," he murmurs, glancing to the bright spots along Harkashan's self-

Gnawed. Skiel freezes. Flat footed at the gesture. But soon after released. He reaches up, rubbing at the bitten, swooping horn. Skiel shakes himself as an amused rumble echoes in his chest, large tail swooping back and around to lightly thwack Hark's in a return gesture.

"It appear so. Regardless, you just tell this one when we leave, and this one will be ready to go, no matter how far," he smiles.

Which drops immediately at the mention of Charn. And- The silverscale lowly growls. It wasn't often Skiel gets angry, but the dreadful feeling always around him becomes palpable, threefold. But it abates as he learns that the Charnite was dealt with, and the hatchling saved. He sighs in relief.

"Ssa. That is good that is good that all is well now, for the most part. And this one looks forward to fighting with you again, Shaman Geir." He shifts a bit. "This one hopes they needn't add to the counted dead for the Deathsinging Dragon. But, such is the lot in this one's life."

Malefic seems to be still lost in their own little world. "... a dragon named Thirku..." they repeat to themselves in a murmur. Like a lost memory on the tip of a tongue. "Taste of crystal? Spicy crystal... hrmm... the name settles well on my mouth. I will need to think on this."

Malefic, unceremoniously, falls over to the ground with a clatter.

"Hrrrm... I do not think they are near." Though they are also within him. So the idea of 'closeness' has a very different kind of answer now. Though he isn't sure exactly where it might be? It had been so surrounded with lava and fire...

"I do not yet know if they are friend or foe. But I am... 'theirs'." He answers. "Seeing as it claims it protected me as a Hatchling, I think they are at least not My Foe." He adds, a small squinting of his eyes at this.

He's lifted from his moment of deep thought when Skielstregar thwacks his tail with his own, and he playfully swats back at Skielstregar's. "Hrrm?" He seems to ask Skiel.

"Yes. Spicy Crystal..." Harkashan answers Malefic, and then watches it clatter to the ground.

"So this is what it looks like when he's deep in thought." 'Lava' adds.

"It is Her sacred duty, my friend, and I am sure she would rather send the Charnites on to their hell's than us on to our paradise, yes?" His tail lightly taps at Skiel's. "There is much we have to do, still, we merry few, we band of brothers and sisters."

The copper-scale lets out a huff of breath. "This one, too, shall be ready to join you, Harkashan. This one's spear, khopesh and curative powers are at your service. But for now, this one should slumber. Be well, and peace on your nests."

Geir slowly turns, and limps off into the darkness.

Skielstregar lets out a lethargic sigh. "Surrounded by lava and fire. Great..." he murmurs, a lazy stream of frozen air leaving his nose. He has mentioned he doesn't enjoy the heat in the slightest. "This one will suck it up, as the softksins say." He looks to Harkashan. "At least they are not an enemy. This one is strong, but they do not think they can stand up to a dragon of lava and crystal. Nor would they want to. Maybe they have more reason behind their protection? What were they protecting you from?"

The return thwap gets Skiel to squint at Harkashan. Amused. Another return swat, but this time, the large tail just ends up laying atop Harkashan's to attempt to keep it in place. He pretends nothing is remiss. "Ssssa. She does that sometimes," he lightly mentions. "More recently as of late. Getting more introspective. This one lets her have their space."

He looks to Geir, rumbling warmly as he pats Geir's tail as it swoops over. "Sssa. Much to do. Rather the Death Singing Dragon do just that, send them to the pits." He raises a hand. "Peace on your nest, Shaman Geir. Rest well- oh! This one brought more firewood to the travel lodge, very warm in there!"

"Sleep well, Shaman Geir." Harkashan bids the copper-scale farewell, before turning back to Skielstregar. He's getting more comfortable being around this near-dead one. Though he does remark; "I am thinking of adding bells into your horns, so me and Rune can hear you coming in the future."

"I do not think you will need to face them, Kin. I seek to travel and meet my family. I am not ready to meet Thirku once more - until I know what questions to ask it." He points out. "As for what they were protecting me from... that is what I seek to find out."

He glances to Malefic once more, then back. "Hrrm. Such is her perogative." He admits, before turning to the forest again. Quieting, letting Skiel's tail lay upon his.

"Speaking of Charn. It seems they are also aiding the Werewolves that have been a problem. Some of them are living in the Vast, being funded by the Charn. Feeding by attacking and terrorizing nearby villages amidst that warped place..." He pauses for a moment, then adds; "Ever been to the Vast yourself, Kin?"

Skielstregar snorts at the idea, grinning somewhat. "Yes? This one likes that idea. Infact-" he rummages around his bag, looking for something or another. Looks like Skiel too, has been comfortable being around. In fact, it seems like he enjoys it, just his nerves tending to get in the way. "Ah!" He pulls out... several hand shakers with straps attached to them? "These go on tail! Make beat with tail when dancing! Would go well with bells!" he grins, giddy.

He lets out a small sigh of relief. "Good. Whatever may come- and what they were protecting you from- this one will be their to keep everyone safe as their duty as Warrior, and as a friend," he rumbles warmly.

His brows furrow at such news. Talons drum against his scaled leg, making dull clacking noises. "Problematic. The werewolves abate to outside Alexandria? To harbor and grow. This one thinks maybe Charn supply needs to cut them off? Make them starve out..."

A question. Met with a bountiful answer. "Ssa." He nods. "This one has. After this one... woke up. Wandered some out of Charn into the Vast. Eventually made it to the Vast where a roving Oruch tribe picked this one up. Helped teach this one how to, at the very least, reign in the... outbursts, so to speak. Have you, Deathsinger?"

Harkashan seems amused that Skielstregar is so immediately on board with the idea of putting a bell on him. Suddenly, hand-shakers. With straps. "Hrrm. Maybe get you a nice tailbag from the market and attach it to that?" He offers to Skielstregar. "They largely do spices here. But I bet if you found the right Hunter, you'd have a well made leather tailbag made in no time." He points out.

There's a quiet nod then, at the mention of protecting him, but he's quick to shift the topic to those werewolves. "Very problematic. There's a lot going on in regards to them. But if you know the Vast as well as you do - then I could maybe lean on you to be a guide. Travel to the towns and help evacuate them, or at least defend them against the Werewolves." He offers to Skiel, before slowly starting to rise up, looking to be ready to get moving as well.

"Cut off their supplies. And figure out who is helping them remain safe in The Vast." Followed by a small shake of his head. "Never been. Though... I have memories of that place." He answers Skielstregar. Something that now at least makes sense to say. "We... have memories of that place?" He tries, tasting that on his tongue. Hmm, that doesn't taste right yet.

If there is one side of Skielstregar that the Deathsinger has yet to see, it is how the half-dead one parties. He seems on board with this idea, grinning and nodding. "Good thought! This one will strive to get such a thing. Tailbags, very useful!"

He's thoughful at the mention of navigating the Vast. That is, until a sheepish expression crosses his features. "Ah. Well, this one can try to help. To... be perfectly honest, this one's time in the Vast is spotty at best. But they can try. The... werewolves frighten this one, but they can try."

Seeing as Hark was getting up, Skiel relents his chilly tail and releases him. "We?" he tilts his head to the side, carefully scooping up Malefic, whose maw is closed in a thin line. "Ah. Yes. The Dragon. Worry not, Kin," he smiles, throwing an arm around their shoulders. "You are still you, no matter what memories is and isn't yours. Come now. This one just got done making some shelters! That means no meals have been shared in there yet!" he offers, that tinge of death underneath a boundless exuberance. Doing his best to cheer up the lava-scale.

"Spotty is better than nothing, Skiel." Harkashan remarks, touching his shoulder. Helping him up, and ending up with an arm around his shoulder.

"Do not fear the Werewolves, Kin. Fearing them gives them power over you." He notes, rumbling to him, before patting his shoulder once more, and then starting to step off the Hotstone and working his way back towards where Rune is hiding.

"Let's find Rune. She's got a taste for spicy stuff now. So let's surprise her with some spices from the market."

Skielstregar gets to his feet, appreciative of the help up. "Ah, fair point. This one can try if the opportunity arises." He looks to Harkashan. Dead eyes resting on them. Before he glances off and away. "This is true. But this one fears becoming a monster again," he admits quietly, finding the ground interesting.

He shakes his head, perking up and falling in step after Harkashan, tail whipping behind him in anticipation. "That's right! Rune mentioned that before! Yes, lets go do that! And this one has candied bacon for desert!" he laughs.

Over Skiel's shoulder, Malefic, near silently, murmurs, "... Thirku..."

-End Scene-