Explain Your Smallness

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Log Info

  • Title: Explain Your Smallness
  • Emitter: Eztli
  • Place: Mictlan
  • Summary:Eztli is visiting Mictlan after being escorted by Shilde, which leads to them meeting some of the people there. One of them is Skielstregar, who was keeping guard. She speaks to him about what Mictlan is like, and what to expect, as she has never been in such a settlement before. They talk of what the place is like, before Skielstregar returns to his duties, leaving Eztli to explore encampment more.

Mictlan, late afternoon.

While the wards around the village kept the worst of the cold out, they did little to block out the rain. It was necessary for life afterall, and the jungles of Am'shere weren't exactly dry to begin with. Those living there were more than prepared, and it did little to slow down the daily tasks and chores, thought they were steadily slowing down as the day neared it's end.

Eztli was slow to arrive at the village. She was unsure of the exact route to begin with, and coupled with the muddy terrain and short legs, it took a good part of it to reach it. Thankfully, she had assistance from a wandering druid to find the path, with Shilde leaving for her own business once nearing the wards, and several guards.

The small makari broke through the treeline after passing them, with a large parasol obscuring most of them from above. It did not block their own view though, as they find the massive bones framing the area. Eztli stops, and stares at them for some time, leaning their free hand and most of their weight against a nearby tree.

Amongst those that were taking care of daily duties, one figure was switching out with the guards that patrolled the outer edges of the hallowed sanctuary. Practically ignoring the rain, a shiny and massive silverscale shares unheard words with a bluescale as he takes their place. They were a walking armory, and the halberd they kept in hand seemed to be leaking an inky black that refused to mingle with the rain.

Their empty gaze swoops around in that of a sentry, before they stop upon the small makari. He approaches.

>thud. Thud. THUD.<

Heavy, heavy footsteps. "Greetings, kin, are you well?" he asks in their native tongue, voice felt more than heard.

The small makari staring up at the bones was so lost in their own head that the noise of the approach only clicked in when they were a small ways off. Eztli turned, and looked up to Skielstregar, staring for just a split second before she sprinted out to the other side of the tree. His question was only answered by audibly heavy breathing, and the shaking of the umbrella that stuck out from either side of the trunk.

The massive makari blinks as the small one darts off, then adopts an awkward look as he looks to the ground and rubs his neck. "Uhh... this one apologizes!" he calls out.

The walking armory looks up at the jutting bone, and he gently pats it. "Erm... all are welcome here. This one..." A glance to the umbrella. "... can escort you to the great fire to warm, if you so wish?"

He takes a few steps away from the towering bone structure, half turned away.

The heavy breathing from behind the tree trunk continued for some time, only hitching for a brief second before the umbrella sticking out from behind the tree shifted as Eztli fumbled to close it, perhaps realizing how much it stuck out. The scent of fear was evident clearly on the wind.

A minute passed, then another half of a minute, and the small makari quieted down. There's an audible thunk as their head hits the back of the tree.

"You know I'm here but you haven't tried to kill me." She finally states in a small voice that was still shaking just a bit. "You have a look in your eyes, you aren't trying to drag me off somewhere, are you?"

That scent. How delicious it was.

And were he lesser, he'd have acted on it. Instead he breathes deeply, and slowly exhales, a slow gout of frozen air in front of him turning the light pattering of rain into ice droplets to drop in front of his feet. Reign that in, squash it, starve it.

He clears his throat. "This one knows you are here because they can see you," he teases, though he can't help but turn his head away at that comment. "This one has a duty to The People, they would never do that..."

Eztli finally stops to peek out from the tree, looking up to Skielstregar, blinking, before bowing with her hands resting on her knees. "I'm so sorry, you just, I was so caught off guard by this place, and you looked really quite frightening and I'm sorry." The small makari rambles in apology, before rising again and stepping out from behind where she was hiding. "But, please promise, okay?"

The lumbering silverscale blinks, him shifting on his taloned feet once more before he puts his off putting weapon away on a frog resting on his back. "This one apologizes as well, they tend to be rather... intimidating," he rumbles awkwardly. "Do not fret about it."

He makes no more moves as she reveals herself. Those off putting, dead eyes glance towards them once more, taking in the figure before looking away. "On the Dragonfather's pride, this one promises this one will not harm you."

He thuds his chest twice, the breastplate clanking as he does so. "This one is Skielstregar, Warrior caste. Welcome to Mictlan, home away from home." He holds back from smiling, but he gestures broadly to the grounds behind him.

The small makari shuffles a bit on their feet, tripping over their tail in the same movement, before she coughs and looks over to the grounds gestured to.

"Thank you, that assurance means a lot to me." She replies, offering what she could of a shaky smile. "I've never seen a sith-makar so tall before. If I haven't made a complete fool of myself either, would you still be willing to show me to the fire? I haven't been to a settlement like this ever before, either."

There's a brief flicker of softness that crosses him at the stumbling about, but it ends up going away as a confused expression comes from the towering makari. "... uh... thisss one is rather tall for their kin but..."

He looks behind him to the other sith-makar in the distance. "... you... are even shorter than this one's sister, and they come up to here," he mentions, holding a long-taloned hand about half a head taller than the small mixed scale, near his upper arm.

He clears his throat, then turns, keeping his armored tail tucked in so it doesn't whip out and bash the newcomer. "Well, follow this one then. They can show you around."

He lumbers deeper into Mictlan proper, the rain smattering against his cloak.

The small makari huffs at the notion, breathing a small fog out their snout. "I am quite small, yes. Much smaller than all the others I've met. I didn't realize how much more until seeing some of the guards here, I thought they were just big and imposing for guard duty, but that wasn't right."

Eztli coughs and follows after Skielstregar, opening the umbrella up again and reaching to take his hand, while she reached up higher to move the umbrella over both of them.

"Are you from here, then? I heard there's a portal back to a place called Am'shere, but I don't know if people grew up here or not."

Skiel blinks as he feels a hand grab onto his much larger, much heavier hand. And the edge of the umbrella craning up to try and cover the two of them.

Well, he might as well try and be accomodating.

He walks at a squat height. Cutting some of his looming self down, but still two heads taller than the mixed scale. "Erm, no," he murmurs, just now realizing he was holding their hand. "This one is from Am'shere. Though they live here now. There is a portal, yes. And they have visited home a few times. There has been a hatching here as of late, so there are some that will, in time, grow up here, and there are other little ones that run amok."

Soon enough, they arrive to the central fire that sizzles from the rain, various skewers of freshly caught game roasting over the heat. "This one never got your name," the squat walking makari asks.

The small Makari has to stretch out her arm a fair bit to get enough height on the umbrella, but at least the artifice mechanisms inside it balance the top flat above them both.

"Oh, right! Un'eth told me about that, that's such a wonderful event for all the expecting mothers and their family, isn't it? And what's it like back home then, Skielstregar?" She asks before her attention is caught by the roasting meat that makes the white and brassy scaled makari sniff at the air.

And then she realized the question, and she laughs quietly. "I seem to be making a habit of forgetting to mention my name, there's just so much to take in. My name is Eztli, nice to meet you, Skielstregar!"

Skielstregar hums warmly, him settling into a seat beside the fire to make himself less imposing. "Yes, it was a grand time. This one cannot wait to see the little ones out of the nesting grounds." He gives a little shrug. "It is nice back home. Hot, humid. But simple. Here is complicated, but still nice."

He glances over to Eztli. "Ah. Peace on your nest, Eztli."

He awkwardly waits a beat. "If this one may ask, why were you afraid of seeing kin, Eztli? Is something the matter?"

Eztli was holding onto the hand as Skielstregar sat down, which still wasn't too difficult for him, until she finally let go. One of the sith-makar tending to the fire walked over, and pulled one of the skewers off the fire, and held it out to the small makari. This led to a small bout of confusion. "O-oh, thank you for offering, it smells really good and you did an excellent job cooking it, how much would you like for it?" Eztli asks, prompting a shake of the head from the other makari, who presses it into their hand.

"It is for you, and there is no payment. The land provides, and the people help each other." The makari chuffs, before walking off to tend to other fires, offering some to Skielstregar before departing as well.

"O-oh! thank you!" She calls back as they depart, before she too sits down. "And right, peace on your nest, right? It's okay, I'm asking a lot of questions. But um, there's not too much to it, I'm not scared of seeing other sith-makar, it's just, looking at those bones, and you kind of looked kind of undead for a moment. That was a bit much is all."

Skielstregar easily releases the hand as it slips away, him turning to the offered skewer. He takes it without question. "The land provides," he says back. "Thank you."

He looks back to Eztli, a warm rumble in his chest. "The People help one another here," he echoes. The notion of him being undead makes him chuff and monch on the skewer. Which didn't last more than a singular bite before it's returned into a dirty pile for reused later. "Ah, well, there are reasons for this one's appearance, but they will withhold that for the time being."

He shakes his head. "It's fine. This one can tell you have been away from The People for some time like this one has. Ask your questions."

"That's really nice of them to do." Eztli nods, taking the skewer in both hands, while she sets down the umbrella. the base flips outward and anchors to the ground, while the handle extends upwards to continue covering them. Only then does she sample the skewer, taking one bite, then another much larger one. "And it's really good!"

"I have been away from the people for some time, yes." The small makari sighs. "So all of this is just new to me. I didn't know they were so open and welcoming really, but that's not a bad thing. I'm not causing trouble am I? You were out on the outskirts like those other guards, after all."

Skiel bobs his head once. "It is really good. The People look out for one another."

He tilts his head to the side. "You are fine. This one was just making sure no stray folk or animals wander in needlessly. While all are welcome, we want to keep those here safe. It is sacred grounds, after all. This one helps by gathering firewood and being muscle where need be."

"If this one may ask, where are you from?"

"Well,I guess I'm not stray folk then, or perhaps I needed to come explore this place." Eztli laughs after tearing off more of the skewered meat. "How is this place sacred? I thought it was just a settlement, not more."

The small makari pauses, picking at the skewer with one hand. While small, the claw was still clearly quite sharp. "Well, not sure where I'm from actually. I guess the best way I could say it is Charn. Best way, not best thing, you know?"

Skielstregar gestures off towards where they came from. "This place lies between the bones of a great dragon. Shamans keep the place sacred for the Death Singing Dragon, and is a mixture of tribes from the homeland. Other Makari gather here usually. Though there's lots of camps around. This one stays roughly an hour out of the grounds."

The mention of Charn makes Skiel shift a bit on his seat. "Ah, yes, this one is... familiar...-" *cough cough* "-... with Charn, yes. Not a nice place."

"Oh, even more camps? I'll have to take a look around those when I have the chance. It's, a bit morbid, but I'm sure they have their reasons for it, and they seem to be respectful of everything. As long as they aren't killing me to prop up my bones or something here, that wouldn't be good." Eztli weakly laughs as she looks up at the bones again. "I mean, I'm not a dragon, and I heard that sith-makar tend to have more than a bit of draconic blood but, I guess I've got a bit more than most."

"Not a good place in the slightest, and I'm happy to be as far from it as possible. I'm sorry you are familiar with it, but I'm happy you aren't there."

Skiel blinks, looking somewhat disgusted by the notion. "What? No. We treat the dead with respect. We're not savages."

He rubs his face. "Yes? How so? This one has some silver lineage. A bit stronger than most." He huffs a bit of cold air that freezes the water on his snout.

He shrugs. "This one has not been there in some time."

Eztli stops and blinks, waving one hand as she covers her snout with the other. "Sorry, sorry, I'm not meaning to be rude or anything, I just don't know the story of this place or what's happening or what led to all this." She apologizes.

"It's like, I'm not a wizard or anything, don't have a familiar like a witch is supposed to, I just try to make something happen, and it does, more or less. Not to mention the huge desire to gather chestfuls of gold and sleep on them." She attempts to explain. "I can even make manipulate someone's size, as if you weren't already imposing enough."

Skielstregar waves a hand off. "It is well. Just don't make light of that here. This one doesn't know much history wise of the place: that'd be for the shamans to tell you. But we've suffered enough hardship enough as is to not dwell on such rough things like that."

He listens, he grabs another skewer, he munches before quietly chuckling. A rumbling sound akin to rolling thunder above. "Sounds like a sorcerer, like someone explained to this one. This one sort of is as well, but not nearly as potent. This one can do such a thing too, though they save it for hauling trees."

Or smashing faces, but he doesn't have to add that. Monch.

He glances to the umbrella. "That is fancy," he comments.

"Oh, I didn't know things were bad here, too. I'm sorry." Eztli frowns. "I should speak to the shamans so they can tell me more about this place, and what I shouldn't do."

"A sorcerer, exactly!" Eztli exclaims, snapping her fingers once. "I wasn't sure if there was another name for it or something, but that's exactly it. And you are too? Oh, that's impressive! Though probably moreso when someone already physically strong can do it. I kind of have to rely on my magic to scare off dangerous people in town, but it's not something I actually want to use, you know?"

The small sith-makar sighs, her skewer cleared and set aside. "I know I'm not big, so wandering in Alexandria can be a bit stressful. People aren't going to bat an eye at a gnome or a dwarf, but when it's someone that shouldn't be too tall, sometimes I worry."

Then she looks to the umbrella, and nods excitedly, letting that thought pass. "It is fancy, isn't it? Speaking of gnomes, I one made this for me in a place called happy valley. I don't mind the rain, but I was getting tired of all my things getting soaked, so it seemed like a good investment."

Skielstregar just shakes his head, not bothering explaining things any further as he'd just bungle it. He wasn't a Speaker, nor was he a Shaman. Best leave those duties to them rather than emulate them.

He bobs his head. "This one understands. They only want to use their magics when they have to. Though it is impressive yours comes from the dragons, as you say."

He tilts his head to the side. "It makes you both stick out and blend in. Makari are not common within Alexandria, save for Mictlan. Yet being smaller makes it easier to blend in. This one... ah, isn't very good at that."

Sparkle sparkle.

The mention of Happy Valley makes him shudder. "This one is glad you got something good from there. Though, this one doesn't mind their things getting soaked. They just usually carry only weapons with them."

"That's what I was told, at least! Nothing impressive about the source though really, and all I can really do is maybe scorch something bad or clean clothes in addition to the whole making someone bigger thing. Nothing really worthy of note." Eztli laughs.

"I can't say I blend in anywhere, I'm even too tall to be mistaken for a kobold even." The makari continues to chuckle. "So I'm not blending in anywhere. Un'eth said I should be more confident, so maybe I just need to work on that."

"I don't have much I worry about getting soaked, but it can wear out clothes over time, and if any of my supplies aren't corked properly, water dilutingthem could ruin them. So better safe than sorry, and as a bonus, I like being dry more, anyways!"

Skielstregar shrugs, with a little rumble of a chuckle. "Some magics is impressive enough as is. Though, Shaman Un'eth is right. Confidence can help immensly. It may not look it, but this one used to be quite afraid to be even here. Un'eth is very wise."

He shifts a bit to sit on his haunches. "Some makari don't bother with them due to them getting worn out from our scales. Regardless."

He rises to his full height, looming over the smaller mixed scale. "It has been a pleasure to meet you. This one has to resume their watch. If you are even in Alexandria proper and need an escort, this one hangs around the Temple of Daeus. Feel free to rest by the fires, and take advantage of the common longhouse to rest if you wish."

He puts a hand over his breastplate, and bows lightly. "Peace on your nest, Eztli."

And with lumbering steps, he walks back out into the rain to resume his watch.

Eztli sits by the fire, rubbing her snout a bit embarassedly. "Yes, you're right. I admire Un'eth's confidence, but it was still surprising. I will need to get used to that."

The small sith-makar looks up and over as Skielstregar rises, and Eztli looks around, before trying to offer another smile to the imposing makari. "You have to be off? Well, it was very nice to meet you, Skielstregar. It would be nice to explore Alexandria more with some other sith-makar, and you would certainly make it feel safer there."

"Peace on your nest! And thank you for making me feel welcome." She replies with a wide wave, watching for their departure until they were gone. Then she turned to the fire, wondering if she would be allowed to have any more of the cooking meat.