Fish Scales

Log Info

• Title: Fish Scales
• Emitter: Murder
• Characters: Murder, Skielstregar
• Place: Southern Tornmwar Banks
• Time: June 11th, 2022
• Summary: Murder is working on catching some dinner down by the river bank while Skielstregar is having a reinvigorating stroll from the temples. He happens by her, the gobbo fascinated by his reflective, shiny scales. She gets a bite on her fishing rod, and Skiel helps reel it (and Murder) back in before they mention they both have similar magical experiences. With a promise to speak again, Skiel heads out.

Clear, blue skies rule above, with just enough of a breeze to keep it from becoming oppressive. The tide slowly comes in, and a few of the larger ships make ready for navigating their way from the harbour.

A few people picnic here and there, those who are lucky enough to slip away from work or other tasks at hand.

In the bridge's shadow, a wee Gobbo fishes. Every so often, she reels in her line, checks the worm stuck on the end of the hook, and then casts it out again with a gleeful energy. One would almost guess she was trying to catch shipping traffic passing by in the deeper channel of the river.

Such a bright day makes it easy to spy shiny things. And it's hard to miss someone when they're completely covered in shiny things. A towering, silverscaled makari with a black stained halberd slowly walks up to the bank from the stairs, them using the polearm as a walking stick. He's in just a brown tunic and pants, and a member of the Daeus clergy watches him from afar.

Without stopping, he walks up to his knees in the waters, then gives a soft sigh.

A little giggle can be heard, nearby, once the Sith sighs with relief, or pleasure.

"It is one of those days where the water is quite enjoyable, and the sun is bound and determined to bake you.", says a little from behind him, near by.

A splash is seen and heard ahead of him, the thin fishing line discernable enough to see.

Skielstregar turns slightly as he hears laugher. "Yesss...." he rumbles, "... thisss one wasss consssidering getting in. But will not to avoid disssturbing whatever you are fissshing for-"

He follows the line back. Squint. "... ah. Shin-kicker. Peassse on your nessst."

Her eyebrows rise up a little, and she nods, a tinge of colour darkening her cheeks. "Yes. My name's Murder." She offers a little curtsey in reply to his intonation.

"And on yours as well."

The Gobbo eyes the line and shrugs. "Hopefully dinner." She slowly moves towards the Sith, squinting curiously. "You are awfully shiny." Her grin brightens.

Now that makes his head twist to the side in curiosity, confusion, and hesitation. "... an interesssting name.." he diplomatically intones. "Ssskielssstregar." He thuds his chest twice at this.

He glances to the dancing lights on the ripples of the creek, reflected off his scales from the overbearing sun. "Yesss. Thisss one isss," he says in a manner that belies he's probably answered that observation a dozen dozen times.

The Gobbo is soon standing beside the Sith. Her grin broadens, becoming quite toothy, at the mention of her name.

"Thanks, I chose it myself." A hand tentatively reaches out, pausing just shy of touching the shiny scales. "May I?", she wonders, gesturing lightly at his silvery scales.

"Your name is impressive."

"Thanksss, thisss one chossse it themselvesss," the towering makari rumbles. It seemed like he was more fatigued than annoyed. But he does let out a happy hum at the compliment.

He considers the request. "... do not bite. Pleassse," he sighs, holding out a silver wreathed arm.

Granted.

Murder laughs at his request, and nods. "Biting is usually a uh contingency plan. Most things aren't all that tasty without some cooking, I have learned the hard way." Another giggle, and then she gives into the temptation.

Her hand runs across a small part of his back. "Oh, you can hardly tell they are scales.", she says softly. Her little fingerclaws scratch at the spot, attempting to find the lines between scales.

THen the Gobbo is peering closely, looking at her reflection.

"Goodness, this is amazing.", Murder says, a tone of awe in her voice. "This is like a silver dragon. Is.. is it made of real silver?" The tone in her voice has turned mischievous. She pauses, "Oh... did you just say you chose your name, yourself? What does it mean?"

"Thisss one ssseeesss..." Skiel murmurs, not expounding on munching on things.

The scales are cold to the touch.

He rubs his neck. "Thanksss... erm, perhapsss in sssome capacity they are sssilver, but not enough to do anything with."

The silver dragon comment seems to make him perk up and look away to grin to himself.

The name thing? "... oh. Uh, thisss one doesn't remember," he answers honestly.

The tip of the halberd in his hand silently drips a black drop of ink every now and then.

The Gobbo cants her head slightly. "Does that mean you're old enough to have forgotten the meaning of your name?", she wonders, her grin returning full force once more. She goes back to admiring her reflection in his scales.

"Aw, only a trace amount eh? Well, you can hammer and roll silver out very thinly, so you don't need too much for a shine."

There's a pause as mischief is evident in her eyes again, and she leans forward and licks at a small patch of scale. Smacking her lips, she nods. "Yep! Still tastes like silver!" Murder laughs and then squeaks as the line goes taught.

With an unladylike grunt, she grasps her rod firmly in both hands and holds on, trying to keep from sliding into deeper waters.

Skielstregar glances to the side. "... erm. No. Thisss one isss not that old. They just had sssome.. er, memory issues, we'll say." Question answered, but avoided. "Suffice it to sssay, thisss one doesssn't remember their real name. But they remember thisss name. Sssso thisss name iss their name."

He's looking away for-

His tail goes shock straight and he stands upright. "Ack!"

His large head whips down at Murder, scowling faintly.

And he just watches her. Slide. Further... further.

Alright, that's enough punishment. He reaches over, grabs half the pole and the gobbo's hands in one massive hand, and slowly pulls them back.

Murder would have won the fish fight.

Probably.

She squeaks as he grabs hold of her fishing pole and her hands, and she half hops, half hangs, as he walks them back towards shore.

The fish makes a valiant attempt at escaping with the pole, but finds itself as helpless as Murder.

Eventually all three (yes the fish too) are brought to shore, and Skiel carefully sets Murder back down like a gentle giant.

He turns to the flopping fish, it bouncing around helplessly and breathlessly before he cocks a finger back, waits a beat, then flicks it hard to stun it. "Dinner," he chuckles, standing back up to his full height and leaning against his inky halberd.

Her annoyed expression vanishes fairly quickly, once Skiel knocks the fish unconscious.

"Yes!", she says eagerly, a low growling sound sounding suspiciously near her stomach. She hefts the rod again, carrying the fish to the shade. "If you wait for me to catch another, I can share dinner with you.", she offers, her eyes once more playing over the shiny scales, distracted by the multitude of reflections.

"Why does your polearm leak?"

Skielstregar chuckles in amusement and shakes his head. "Thisss one appreciatesss the offer, but they have plenty to eat at the temple.

The question makes him pause, then glance to a weapon. "It... hasss taken on sssome asspects of thiss one'sss magicssss...." he answers in a mumble.

Her eyes widen, and her head cants once more. "Oh? What sort of magics?", she wonders. "I had taken you to be a great warrior. Not one of the shaman caste." The Gobbo rubs at her cheek. "Surely you could stand to eat outside, under the sky?"

Skielstregar rolls his shoulder, looking at a scale on his arm. "Erm... thisss one isss. Or, others ssay they are a good warrior caste. They jussst have sssome thingsss they can do with magicsss. Mossstly just magicsss that make thisss one stronger isss all..."

He shakes his head at the food proposal. "Perhapsss later. Not now. Ssssorry."

The Gobbo mutters something under her breath, and she reaches out gently to touch the Silver-scale. Where after a moment, he may feel a familiar surge in strength.

"Like that?", she wonders. "Magic, of the blood?"

GAME: Murder casts Bull's Strength. Caster Level: 10 DC: 15

Skielstregar lightly gasps in reflex, him standing up straighter as he feels power pulse through him. "Thiss..." He shakes his head, shuddering from the feeling. "Yesss, of the blood. It doesss something sssimilar to that but... it'sss more..."

It's clear he's fighting admitting something. But he remembers a phrase, then shakes his head and admits, "Necromancy fuelsss thisss one."

The mention of necromancy doesn't seem to dampen her enthusiasm.

"From what I have been able to tell, blood from all manner of being is able to confer magical powers." She grins and hops from foot to foot. "I learned from an Oruch shaman how to channel my anger. I am destined for a great purpose."

Murder leans in closer, her voice lowering. "Your blood isn't evil, even if its source is necromantic. It's how you use it, yes?"

Skielstergar quirks his head to the side. "... interessssting... thisss one learned to quell their anger from orc ssshamansss too..." he rubs his chin.

He gives a little nod. "...yesss. That isss what Ssshaman Randolf told thisss one. And they do their bessst to keep that at heart," he murmurs back quietly.

The Sunguard waiting at the stairs clears their throat. "Warrior Skielstregar?"

He looks over, then makes an 'ah' sound. "Thisss one hass to return to the temple for obsservation. It wasss a pleasssure to meet you properly, Murder."

Her expression of disappointment is poignant, and she frowns at the Sunguard, all full of teeth.

Murder lets out a sigh and nods.

"The pleasure was mine.", she says quietly, offering up her hand for shaking.

"I hope to meet you again. To pick your brains for magical secrets. Peace on your nest."

Skielstregar reaches down, and carefully takes the hand with just two of his fingers: pointer and thumb, and gives it a gentle shake. He seems to smile. "Peace on your nessst. Until then."

He rises to his towering height, meets with the Sunguard, and slowly makes his way back up the steps.

-End Scene-