SS: Around the Fire

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-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-<* W02: Mictlan *>-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

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 ceremonial pyre. 

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. The sith use it to sing the souls of their dead back to the land of Wing and Flame. It was here that brave heroes stood, and vanquished the ashen warriors of old, thereby freeing the land from Thul's curse.

EXTRAS: +view                                 

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-- Contents --=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

Charis          A tall reddish brown lizard man wearing a cloak.      7s   1h

Durrankar       Silver Sith-makar with blue eyes                      11s  42m

Sebropert       A black and copper Sith'Makar with burn scars.        3m   1h

Svarshan        Demons: Another name for spicy BBQ                    0s   6d

Un'eth          An ebon-scaled female Sith-makar                      50s  35m

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= Exits -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

Through Woods <TW>        

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


The return to Mictlan had been only days, but these days have been full. Shaman Un'eth and hunter Sebropert had taken to patrolling the area--checking territory, and affirming marks, and signs. This had taken days, as had the re-greetings and negociations with the local druid's circle, and the re-unification of the other sith-makar in Mictlan, with those who had gone.

It culminated tonight in a great feast, with Durrankar's cooking at its center. Great pots cover cookfires at Mictlan's edges, the light hitting dragonbone. At the center, always the center, is Fire. The great, central Fire symbolizing their heritage as the Children of the Flame.

Dancers lie exhausted, relaxed. Meals slowly finished. It is the easing-off of such celebrations, and night sky grows brilliant with the Hearth Dragon's thousand, shining scales.

Only one thing signals that Durrankar is still alive from a feast that grand.

  • BELLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLCH* And a great gout of fire comes from his muzzle and shoots straight into the air.

Durrankar's belly is full of good food. so, food coma.

Svarshan ambles back towards Fire, smelling of family and cihuaa. He wears a loose, silly grin as he drops to the earth. His cihuaa--recently returned--stands off to the side. She rejoins the other merchants, their caste engaging in conversation of the then and now, and future.

Having been dragged into ongoing talks, probally the youngest of the Sith-Makar Charis finally pulls himself away from the long-winded soft skinks and makes way towards the central fire where he grabs a a slab of meat and plops himself down upon the earth. "May the the fire warm you and Wings shelter you" he greets the group in the ussual fashion.

Un'eth is not immune to Durrankar's culinary talents, but she has work to do. Many duties, including patrols of her domain, monitoring of Sebropert who also aids her in said patrols, reconnection with shamans and hunters of Mictlan, avoiding unfinished baskets in need of completion and the rising anxiety of forthcoming events. None of this impairs her appetite, but even bacon cannot still her energy. She moves about the fire rather than sit near it.

Sebropert had begun making a habit of always being near one of the members of his party, the presence of a watcher making others a bit easier in his presence. Work with Un'eth had kept him busy, but his moods as of late have swung from numb to grumpy. For the moment he sat near Durrankar, the shaman's gastrointestinal acrobatics never failing to amuse.

A single blue eye swivels to watch Svarshan and Charis approach. A scarring lip curls up at one corner and he shows pearly teeth. An empty hand is shown to them, a sign of peace, but his normal polite responses are lacking. "Hrrumph."

"Sssa," Svarshan says contentedly. Today is the most wonderful day. He stretches lazily, and drops to an unprotected, curled-up spot on the ground. Even the great, smoky clouds emerging from Durrankar's burping stomach cannot bother him.

"Her teeth are sstrong." TMI much, man? He looks so goofily content, though. Awake enough to glance up at the pacing Un'eth for a moment, and then back down. He makes a sound deep in his throat at Sebropert. "Our sshaman iss nesst-making," he says then. "How are the sshamans-of-the-ssoftskins, Chariss?"

"Many words and No meaning." Charis replies before tearing into his haunch of meat chewing it throughly before swallowing.

Durrankar says, "Soundssss typical of the softskins. They push air, but say nothing...try to lie while telling the truth." His tail thumps despite him being on the ground. "Good food.""

Sebropert looks at Chariss and lets out a low rumbling growl. A claw, too big to be normal, lifts to point at the youngbelly to admonish him. The movement stops when Durrankar mimics the sentiment. The black Sith'Makar lowers his hand and just gives a shake of his massive horned head.

To distract himself he looks in the direction of Un'eth, taking each opportunity of her passing to take a deep inhalation. "Possible?"

Un'eth snorts as she paces near Durrankar. "The softskins are full of-" Her own words empty and she pauses mid-step when Svarshan's comment is processed. Her head swivels towards him to ..stare for a moment. Only Sebropert's comment pulls her away. The stare continues a moment, before fasing in another snort. "Yes. I had one nest in Mictlan already."

"Ssa. I ssuspect they have things on their mind. ...that elemental iss sstill there," Svarshan returns, lazily. He looks over to Charis. "You would not have heard. ...along the mountain path in the Ssity, an elemental came to resst and hass. Gone dormant."

His tail flicks, the heavy tip of it thumping nonchalantly against Sebropert. At Un'eth's rejoinder, his teeth click together, and he starts to laugh.

"That's right. The earth on the mountain stood up and became stoned!" Durrankar's staff says this and Durrankar is too content to correct him. "Mmmf....I speak of politicians, Sebropert. Those worthy of respect will be shown it. Those that 'double talk' are not."

Charis sighs simply. "It seems the worries just keep piling up, Hasss anything else of intrest happened while I was away."

"Would offer help in care of egg, but might be blamed for eating them," Sebropert says with a mirthless chuckle, but continued darkness is ceased by Svarshan's thump. "Yes scarleg," he rumbles under his breath. Participation. "Was going to say it is not good to support view in youngbelly. Like say all scarlegs old, or all egg-tenders henpecked. Different. Softskin, rockskin, sharpears, greenskins."

Un'eth's tail follows Svarshan's, though her ...flick of Sebropert is more solid. "None would accuse. You would never do this any more than I." She then joins the topic at hand. "The elemental is not a threat, nor is it present by choice. Deep within Ea's flesh lie fissures to the realm of earth. The elemental traversed these paths for millenia. Recently, one such path closed, and it was unable to return."

"Durrankar iss in trouble," Svarshan says contentedly, to Sebropert and Charis, as an aside. Much too content, and much too content and in that same voice that little boys use when they say, 'Durrankar's gonna get cooooties.' He looks over towards Durrankar and Charis then. "Not too many. Worriess...one at a time. Elemental iss related to Demon-binder." Then, "Hello, Un'eth," he says. He shows part of his throat, just a part.

"I dont belive all soft-skin are the same, Nor do I belive we should conquer them. That said most of them are full of wind with no fire. But some are worthy of our respect." Charis states in reply to Sebropert.

Sebropert reaches over and gives Svarshan's shoulder a light backhand. His head having to turn extra far to look at the scarleg with his one good eye. "When was youngbelly, like you," Sebropert points at Charis. "Went to live with greenskins. You see them with your eyes," he says pointedly from his single blue orb. "Wrong sight."

"Brightscale," Uneth acknowledges Svarshan, without stare, and perhaps even a bit of throat. Still, she re-iterates her assessment. "The elemental is a victim of the binder or his fiends, possibly, but not a servant of them." On to the next with a sigh as she finally takes a seat next to her overly sated cihuaa. "Some are worty, but the warrior speaks truth. Do not judge on words. Judge on actions."

Durrankar says, "Cihuaa is right. Actions, not words. For words push air, and when that's all you push, there is problem.""

"Oof," the brightscale says contentedly. Then Sebropert gestures to his one eye, and he goes silent. Sorrow then, behind the scales.

"Ssoftskins are not the People," he says, under his breath. "...but our Empress tells us, we musst be as allies. The Myrrish, good intentionss. Perhapss they are not-sso-bright. ...but their enemy iss ours." Charn. "Sso we need thosse of uss who are good. With words," he says, looking over towards Charis. The young shaman had shown an affinity for such things, after all.

Charis laughs a little whilst tearing a little more meat. "Thiss is known to me. As part of my caste my job is to break words and feast with them as the empress commands and She is right we need allies. But we also must wary, just because we are allies today doesnt mean they wont hunt us tommorow."

Sebropert gives a nod of his head in thanks to Un'eth. The ever flippant Sebropert, polite, but the first to play with the children, trying to educate someone on rightness. "Appreciate honor being called warrior. But am not. Not sure what would be called now."

"Elementals. Binders. Looking for knives in hands of allies. Corruption in more than my blood." Sebropert rests his chin in a hand, tendrils writhing about his fingers. "In hearts."

"If they hunt tomorrow, The People will know their hunters.," Uneth shares. "The more the softskins know of The People, the more they will know they are not easy prey. Most will not provoke The People idly." Most. There are obvious exceptions.

"We will hunt. Together," Svarshan agrees, building on Un'eth's words. He shifts once, the movement slow and content. Dry scale over rough scale, warm by the Fire. "I dream one day. Of taking Charn in my own teeth, Ssebropert. ..." He falls silent.

A content look overtakes his features. It's so obvious he must be thinking of--"SSsssa, but an important quesstion. Sso who hass eggtender dutiess. Tomorrow?" Alright guys, who got drafted. It's totes okay to be honest.

Durrankar is still blissed out.

"Charn will burn when time is right. But first we fight other wars to gain trust." Charis gives a slight nod to Svarshan. "That is what we are commanded to do."

Durrankar sucks in a breath in a great big yawn. "mmmmf. Charis......the people cannot truly be 'commanded' to do anything. They must volunteer." he then rolls his head towards Charis. "The Empress does not command me. But I see the wisdom in her words, so I recognize her as a symbol of Unity, and listen."

"Your teeth would be joined by many others, Brightscale, including my own..." Uneth assures him and all. "Yet it would be fitting that they be burned to ash by their own betrayal." She looks to Durrankar as he stirs, swatting him with her tail to help rouse. "It lives. I would select Durrankar to tend the eggs, unless he has other duties."

"Small fights," Sebropert murmurs. "Keep them weak until then. Raid supply routes. Salt earth. Poison wells," he suggests. "War of attrition." His head shakes when he looks at Durrankar. "All given much time. I," he pauses and scratches at the edge of the scabbing on his face. "I can tend eggs. If wanted. Will not eat. Promise this. None will harm while I live."

Ssylrath has arrived.

The brightscale realizes his misstep almost too late. As Sebropert continues however, he seems to relax, and thumps his tail with the rightness of it. "They found me thiss morning," he admits, wry.

He looks awkward, after that, still, but Durrankar's words then stir him, and he straightens. The shaman receives an uneasy look. "Sshaman. Sshe iss our Empress, and the leader-of-tribess. Unless ssomeone elsse's signature. Iss on the Treaty."

Durrankar says, "my only other duty is to my Cihuaa." he says quietly, before looking to her meaningfully......as if trying to say something without words...."

"Ssa." Of any claim a Daeusite can understand, it is one of those. Svarshan relaxes at the shaman's clarification. He looks over towards Sebropert again as though to say silently: Durrankar is in troooooouble. ...in exactly those tones. Un'eth is totally going to swat him. Possibly. Probably a lot over the coming years, if he lives that long.

Ssylrath rides to the edge of the circle of firelight atop his tall swiftclaw Thaliss, both look exhausted. He slides from the saddle gracelessly with a clatter of armour and catches himself on her harness, then looks around the circle to see who is there. "Peace on your Nesssts." He closes his eyes for a moment to gather strength and then with a gesture from him his mount steps away and curls into a pile of giant lizard on the ground, almost immediately asleep. Ssylrath's face is worn and he is covered in dust and dried mud.

Charis looks over as Ssylrath arrives. "Fire warm you and Wings shelter you Ssylrath. Its been a long time my friend."

Un'eth's eyes widen a moment, as if she's uncertain whether she interpereted Durrankar's statement of the hierarchy properly. She delays with a brief, "Peace on your nest" to Ssylrath. "It has been too long." Her eyes never leave Durrankar, however, and she finally comments to her cihuaa. "You can aid Sebropert with the eggs, while you prepare."

Durrankar says, "One should not be the best number on that journey, Un'eth. Ever. Unity...""

"Warrior," Svarshan says warmly. Though brightscale and beastfriend, the greater-caste is the same and he unwinds, going over to him to clasps his arm. "You have been gone. Too long ssince our battless together. ...you recall the sshaman, Chariss? And our hunter, Ssebropert?" he says. At Un'eth's last comments, he steers clear. Self-preservation. Total. Self-preservation.

Ssylrath clasps Svarshan's arm warmly and even smiles showing many snaggled teeth. "I have been... away. Looking within. Hunting." He takes a few steps forward into the light and toward the food. "I am not too late?"

Sebropert nods, understanding that no one would leave him alone with the eggs. Ever again. "Thank you," he says with a light bow of his head. He lifts a claw to greet Ssylrath, but he gives no verbal greeting as he normally would. Each time as if doing so would sully it.

Un'eth snorts, though there is a pause before she replies to Durrankar. There is no swat, only a nudge, and her words are more quiet. "Now is the time to call for hunters and scouts, then, cihuaa. The Brightscale will be needed, certainly." A slow turn of head to glance his way in emphasis.

Charis has disconnected.

A quiet, unremarked-upon healing surge flows into Ssylrath, as their arms clasp. "Ssa. You are alwayss on time. It iss good to sshare words again, coussin." Svarshan holds the grip a moment longer before letting go. "We were ..."

There is no safe topic. His tongue goes as lead in his muzzle, and then-- "You dessided, then?"

It says something, when possible death is the 'safe topic'.

Durrankar doesn't move from his spot, but he does clear his throat. "Svarshan, Ssylrath, Sebropert........We shall be needing your help." he says finally. "Un'eth....wishes to join us." he then turns his head. "To become one of us, body and spirit. to do this, I must go on a spirit walk to claim her spirit. What I am asking is; I need your help."

Yes. This is the safe topic.

Sebropert has disconnected.

Sebropert has connected.

Durrankar doesn't move from his spot, but he does clear his throat. "Svarshan, Ssylrath, Sebropert........We shall be needing your help." he says finally. "Un'eth....wishes to join us." he then turns his head. "To become one of us, body and spirit. to do this, I must go on a spirit walk to claim her spirit. What I am asking is; I need your help."

Yes. This is the safe topic.

Un'eth dips her snout to Svarshan in silent, minimal, yet firm answer. She doesn't interrupt Durrankar otherwise.

Sebropert knew this request would come eventually, and before being Forgotten he was looking forward to it. Involuntarily his frill lifts and flaps. He nods his head, running a claw over his head to smooth his frill down. "Can even help?" His large head tilts to the side and he motions to the burns the sacred fire had left him.

Ssylrath shrugs tiredly. "I go where I am needed. For one of usss I go far." He half sits half collapses near the fire, catching himself at the last moment. "I am sssorry, it has been a long day. Daysss."

"The Dragonfather'ss light guidess us," Svarshan says, his focus on Durrankar, and then Un'eth. His look is intense, from warrior to hunter. Ssylrath's slump barely registers--or maybe it's a warrior's politeness that doesn't acknowledge it. Healings are for shamans.

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-<* W02: Mictlan *>-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

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 ceremonial pyre. 

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. The sith use it to sing the souls of their dead back to the land of Wing and Flame. It was here that brave heroes stood, and vanquished the ashen warriors of old, thereby freeing the land from Thul's curse.

EXTRAS: +view                                 

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-- Contents --=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

Durrankar       Silver Sith-makar with blue eyes                      4m   3h

Sebropert       A black and copper Sith'Makar with burn scars.        4m   28m

Ssylrath        Green lizardman, short and wide, with a Swiftclaw.    3m   1h

Svarshan        Demons: Another name for spicy BBQ                    0s   6d

Un'eth          An ebon-scaled female Sith-makar                      17m  3h

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= Exits -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

Through Woods <TW>        

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

Un'eth looks to Sebropert, and her silence breaks a moment. "You could. The choice it yours. What is learned could aid in healing your own spirit."