Shoulder of Giants
Log Info
- Title: Shoulder of Giants
- Place: W02: Mictlan
- Summary: Murder and Harkashan have a short meeting in Mictlan and learn a little more about one-another.
Outside the boundaries of Mictlan, the wind howls through the trees, blowing snowdrifts along through the night. Inside the boundaries set by the bones, the wind is but a breeze, with none of the intense cold. Numerous Sith gather around the central fire, enjoying a meal together, talking, exchanging greetings, trading and other social activity.
The Goblin is here for two reasons, it seems: it's warm, and there's free food. She happily gnaws away at a large bone, recently stripped of roast beef. Murder's path meanders around the confines of the bones, as she explores a place rarely visited.
When the Gobbo wanders about to gnaw at her bone, she will recognize a particular sight not long after. Speaking to a few Shamans, the rather 'glowing' features of Harkashan stands out. He seems to be having quite a bit of a discussion on the local history of this place. The trouble that the Mictlan area suffered against the Thulites.
It is perhaps somewhat notable, that amongst all of the Shamans for the Death Singing Dragon, Harkashan... stands out a bit. Certainly, his scales are rather bright and lava-like. But even his clothing bears more color. Various lava-rocks fastened into and upon his armor and clothing creating an interesting tapestry.
He's just finishing his talk it seems though, as he steps away after thanking them, and spotting the small one.
A small smile quirks at the edge of his muzzle.
"Ah, the great green firebreathing dragon walks amongst us." Harkashan speaks to the Gobbo as he steps onto her path, towering above her as many here do.
Murder is mostly oblivious until he steps into her path, causing her to pause and peer way up at the Sith. She grins, the bone cracks, and she licks and worries at the bone marrow within. "Pfff. Dragon?" The Gobbo waves dismissively. "You all tower over me."
She gestures and says something under her breath, and a moment later, she crouches and jumps, easily making it to Harkashan's shoulder. Where she crouches, peering 'down' at him. "And now I loom above you instead."
Harkashan had been told of this one's particular skill with combat. And the flame licking at the sides of her mouth had warned him to the potential of a rather fiery ancestor within her. Something that is rather... applicable to his kind. Though not something he would express to her.
When she gets onto his shoulder with such ease, landing upon it, she may have to grab onto one of his horns for balance, as he jolts back a bit at the sudden intial motion. It's only natural to be a bit alarmed at such an act.
This close, she no doubt feels that heat she'd felt before. As well as hearing that deep constant growl of 'fire' that burns within him. "Miss Murder." He offers her, turning his head just partially and looking up at her with a single eye. "So it does, it would seem. Standing on the shoulders of giants, now are we?" He's rather well spoken for a Sith-makar.
"How may I be of service?"
The Gobbo lets go of the horn almost right away. "Sorry, didn't mean to grab it like that. Er." She sits down on her bottom, dangling her feet over the front. "You don't need to call me miss. Murder is fine. And I think sitting on the shoulders of giants is more comfortable, don't you?"
Giggling, she shrugs. "Where were you headed, and could I come along? It was getting pretty cold out there and I thought it might be a good idea to take shelter here. Tlan is in Alexandria, looking for his kin. Hope he's successful."
"I have not done so since being a hatchling. So I fear I have little memory of such an event." Harkashan answers the Gobbo, not seeming to have minded her grabbing onto his horns. Though he might have made comment if she touched the lavarock that is hanging between his horns atop his head.
Sitting onto the edge of his shoulder like that, he continues to move down the path to get some rags for the dead to be wrapped in. Speaking to the Sith-makar merchant and making small payment, before answering the Gobbo; "I fear I do not yet know where I am headed at this time. I am looking to meet back up with Leirune at this time, who should be around here somewhere. But right now, it's less about 'going somewhere' and more about 'finding out where I should go'."
"Well, this is my full size, so, I get to continue enjoying it, when I have a chance." The lava rock's presence is now noted by the Goblin, and she cants her head slightly. "What is this rock suspended between your horns?"
She mutters a few more words under her breath, the squeaks and growls of Goblin-talk, and then she sits on her hands, remaining steadfastly stuck to his shoulder. "Who is Leirune? And have you eaten yet? If not, perhaps you should head to the central fire and get a good meal?"
Always thinking with her stomach.
"Hrrrm..." Harkashan hears that question, and quiets. She'd been drunk last night, so who knows if she picked up on those moments of more morose expressions. "That particular stone is... complicated." He answers Murder. "But to answer the question you actually asked - it's a Lavarock." Of which he bears many more of on his armor.
He doesn't understand goblin talk, but he finishes his shopping and stow the cloths over his arm and heads back towards his steed near the stables, so he can put it into one of its saddlebags.
"Leirune is a dear friend of mine. Half-sil. Blue elements to her hair." He expresses. "She is a fellow traveler of mine." It doesn't seem like he's bound to just go sit somewhere and eat at the moment quite yet.
"What's it do?", she wonders, peering at the rock more closely. Murder carefully leans forward, attempting to sniff at it. "I guess it's hot, maybe?"
The Gobbo settles back down, nodding. "I have not met her, but it would be neat to. Perhaps you will see her here, yes? And.. were you looking for something the other night, when you found my camp with Tlan and Skiel?"
"It... remembers." Harkashan answers Murder with a heavy toned implication that there must be something symbolic about that particular stone hanging between his horns. As she leans in to sniff at it, he raises a hand to grab her at the back of her clothing. Nothing forceful, just a soft tug back to draw her away from that place.
"I was looking for this place." He then tells her, when she asks about what he'd been looking for when he'd come across her camp. "I could have kept going, but the dead-eyed one was... someone I wished to observe." He explains to her. Not one to mince words.
Arriving at his warhorse, he works to put the cloths away. It's clear that he's replacing supply, suggesting he's had to bury people rather recently.
"What about yourself? What is it you seek? Where is it you go?"
"What does it remember?", she asks, squirming a little as he pulls at her furs.
Murder nods, "It was kind of cold and miserable to be travelling anywhere, to be honest. I was happy to share my fire and food. I've found Sith to be good people. There are those I would consider kin. Skiel and I are very similar. Warriors and shamans, riding the fine line between calm and rage. OUr blood is different, but our powers are similar. Has he earned your trust?"
"As for me... I seek revenge, for the death of my tribe. I will fight demons where I find them. I seek, in the end, peace. A quite. A stilling of the mind. I go... I go to my death."
"It seems others have recognized his deeds. But I feel... unnerved around him." Harkashan admits to Murder. "Trust, perhaps not yet. But certainly, no immediate distrust. Just healthy wariness of whatever... state he holds." Not exactly the most political of answers, but it certain sounds like he's being truthful on the matter.
"I have met a fine deal of warrior caste who ride the fine line between calm and rage, and use it to their benefit." He then notes. "So I can understand the desire to end demons and using that desire to draw strength." He remarks, before tilting his head a bit.
"You go to your death? I do hope you value your life, while approaching death."
"Skielstregar is a worthy warrior and shaman. I would trust him with my life." Murder grins toothily. "Also, he's so shiny. I can see my face in his scales, I could shave using just the reflection from a scale. He'd be really uncomfortable with me shaving, and that'd be funny."
The Gobbo rubs at her cheeks. "I don't mean to throw my life away, I go to my death without fear."
Harkashan kneels down to let her off. "Good. I would not wish to hear of someone willing to approach death like a fool. Death need not be feared. But it should be respected." He bids to her, and then rises back up.
"I am going to seek out my traveling companion for now." He then adds, and heads the other way.