Ice Fishing

Log Info

• Title: Ice Fishing
• Emitter: Cryosanthia
• Characters: Cryosanthia, Tirrynelth, Ezil, Merek, Seldan, Caim
• Place: A08: Northern Banks of the Tornmawr
• Time: Saturday, February 01, 2020, 5:22 PM
• Summary: Cryosanthia is sitting out on the frozen river, shooting at the open water with her Ray of Frost and making ice spears. Tirrynelth has set up a fishing tent on the ice nearby. Ezil observes the goings on, joins Cryo, and they move to a warmer location inside the tent. Merek soon joins them, and they make more holes and fish while discussing birthdays, hatching, and the nature of friendship. Seldan overhears the voices and comes in from the cold. Some food is shared. The group is soon joined by a stranger, Caim. Occupations are discussed.

-=--=--=--=--=--=-<* A08: Northern Banks of the Tornmawr *>--=--=--=--=--=--=-

In the shadow of the great Highbridge, and beneath the guardhouses, a stretch of river has been laid out as a public park and fishing area. Here, the descending landscape of Alexandria folds into the river and crafts a comfortable view. On a typical day, a number of small boats and picnic blankets dot the landscape. To the side, a small shrine to Rada the River Serpent, as well as a dual shrine to Althea and Daeus, in their guise as Mother and Father of the world.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  Appearing, in Order  -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Cryosanthia  6'7"     245 Lb     Sith-Makar        Female   A dashingly tall, lithe white lizardgirl with tattoos.     
Tirrynelth   7'2"     245 Lb     Sith-Makar        Female   A 7'2" bronze scaled female Sith'Makar.                   
Ezil         5'11"    175 Lb     Human             Male     An armored man with dark skin, and grey-blonde hair.       
Merek        5'10"    215 Lb     Human             Male     A black-haired, dusky male with golden eyes.            
Seldan       5'11"    187 Lb     Human             Male     Red-blonde Eldanar man wearing Eluna's colors and symbol. 
Caim         6'0"     190 Lb     Human             Male     A human male with black hair and brown eyes      
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Afternoon on the Tornmawr. With the cold weather and snow, few people are about. The banks of the Tornmawr are frozen, reaching towards each other with an open channel in the middle allowing ships to pass. There is a harvested section of ice near the stairs to the bridge, where ice merchants cut the blocks they sell around the city for the iceboxes used by the magic or artifice adverse types. A dusting of snow covers the ice, showing thin areas where cracks have let water through enough to leave puddles amongst the white. The open water is a dark grey, choppy, and unfriendly. It's appearance warns, don't get too close.

Cryosanthia has. Already a solitary and uninviting spot, she's seated close to the water to increase the isolation. Sitting directly on the ice might be much even for her. The top of her armour and cloak are bundled to make a pillow and she's parked her rump on it, legs folded and tail stretching out behind her. Topless, arms bare, her tattoos are very visible, dark markings against her otherwise gleaming white hide.

The white sith-makar is flicking her fingers through arcane motions and pointing, shooting Ray of Frost after Ray of Frost into the water. The pale beam instantly freezes a small conical spike, which bobs up, falls over and floats off. She is trying to hit the same spike several times, making a floating ice star, and also making single spikes. Her demeanor is distant, thoughtful, and this target practice is more idle than intense. Glowing on the ice around her are several 'Dragon Eye' versions of her name, her Arcane mark.

Here's a new one! It's a Sith! A really long and tall Sith, neck's long, legs are long, even the tail seems well, long... She has a finned crest down that long neck and tail too that raises and lowers on occasion, this sith really showing a whole lot of Bronze dragon lineage...

Aaand well, she appears to be ice-fishing.... She's knocked a hole in the ice near the steep bank and has dropped a line off a simple pole with a reel... Next to her is a wind break lean to type tent thing,a nd well, she has a little boxie device that is keeping the area around her quite warm.

She peers at the device and gives off a kind of happy smile... "For once, got a nice bit of artifice.." Yeah she has no problem using artifice now and then, sue her.

So far she's not noticed Cryo as she tugs a book out of her backpack and smiles quietly to her self while she begins to thumb through its pages.

Ezil had been walking across the bridge, a lazy glance cast to those working down on the bank with a vaguely curious glance. He eats something he picked up somewhere, two skewer of sausages that smell sweet with glaze. As he catches sight of the Sith-Makar he had almost overlooked that he knew one of them, doing a double-take and pausing where he stands. A bite is taken from one of the sticks, as he watches as the White-One works, and the bronze joins near as it begins to bore it's hole for fish.

"I got nothing better to do." Ezil says to himself, continuing to cross and find his way down to where his friend does her business.

Cryo cups her chin in one hand, and shakes the wrist of her other. She might be immune to cold, but the muscle fatigue and dry air are still having an impact. Leaning forward, she shoots a few more ice spikes into existence. Some are larger than the other, depending on the angle it hits, or perhaps the strength of the magic she's channeling. Leaning back, she supports herself with that hand, stretches a foot out, splays her toes and tries shooting between them.

"Ouch!"

It seems her 'cold immunity' isn't that high an immunity.

Tirry hapily gets the fishing poles set up down through the ice with the hook and sets them up so that they can show when she has a bite, without the poles going into the hole... She then flips back through her book... Then she hears the "Ouch." She blinks, wide eyed, and closes the book before peeerrriiing through the cloth of her little lean to tent at the nose, her bronze scaled snoot visible as are her owlish eyes...

She kind of stares at Cryo and blinks a bit, having not noticed Ezil yet.... Slooowly she tucks her head back and noodges the leanto fabric closed.... She then glances around curiously and contemplates setting up the rest of it as a kind of anti-cold space while she fishes, think cloth fishing shack!

Ezil had missed that attempt of Cryosanthia to shoot between her toes, but rounds the bend coming down from the bridge, again taking a bite from the same stick and casually taking his time. The bronze Sith-Makar is glance too as he chews, watching as it goes about fishing, and setting up poles. "Hello!" he calls loudly, his wave of a free hand aimed at Cryo, his attention shifting more towards his friend and offering the traditional Faring Folk way. That is, just say hello loudly, and raise a hand, but it fairly beaten in to his being. "You hungry?" he calls, motioning with his skewers. "I can share. They're really good." closing that distance before finally noticing that discomfort of the White-One with a furrowed glance of concern.

Cryosanthia looks up at Ezil. She blinks slowly at him. Half dressed and exposed, her lizard-ness is unsettling, even without all her markings adding to the uncannyness. Scales everywhere, nothing mammalian of course, but well defined muscles and a shapely rib-cage are suggestive. The way her joints are pinned to together are different enough. She slowly moves an arm to shield her front, as if she is shy about her friend seeing her like this, even though she's been strolling about town this way all day.

"Peace be upon your Nest." The white sith-makar says, standing and picking up her stuff. She has a string backpack now, and the chest pieces of her leather armour go into it. She puts it on and attaches her cape around her neck, closing it so it is somewhat a shall that covers as far as her elbows. "This one is. Yes. Come. It's too cold here. This one scents a sith I want to meet."

Gesturing towards Tirrynelth's fishing shack, she leads Ezil that way. She does accept the offered skewer and slowly eats it. She's quiet during the walk over. Not seeming upset. Subdued, perhaps. Her sith nature displaying very strong. She taps on the side of the windbreak, "Do you want company?"

Tirry is busy getting the last few walls up, this all around her little fishing hole... She pauses, blinking, ear-fins twitching as she realizes folks are coming... Her crest raises, then lowers some, slicking back down and kind of looking like some kind of ridgey main, again, very tell tale signs of her ancestrage...

Tirry then looks around, mouth open some and pulls another heating gadget from her backpack and turns that on too, before she sits back some, resting against a wall with her back against one of the support poles...

Ezil looks down quickly as Cryosanthia makes a gesture to cover herself, his realization of that coming a bit late with a flush. "Apologies." he gets out, handing off that skewer, and not meeting the white Sith-Makar's gaze. "White-One, I did not mean to intrude on your business, or be improper." he notes, walking with her as she leads towards the darker Sith-Makar's small hut, having gestured and asked him to follow.

"Hello, you hungry? Ezil greets Tirry as they approach, offering the lone sausage left on the stick he kept, still not meeting Cryosanthia's eyes. "They come recommended, and I do see why now." trying to be friendly, and forget that awkward moment from before as they meet someone new.

"It's all right." Cryosanthia says, resting her hand on Ezil's shoulder, holding it there, then removing it. "I did not realize I developed a softskin's sense of modesty. I have not gone about uncovered in a long time. My armour needs repair. Your gaze reminded me how much a part of my outer self it is."

Her tones remain restrained. Not monotone, but very even and slow. Definitely slower than when she was serving tables, for example. She tries again, opening the flap-door to Tirry's ice-fishing tent. "Scale-sister, may we join you?"

Tirry blinks, she then nods, then realizes, oh they can't see her. "Sure? Come in. It should be pleasantly warm for everyone." She says, and blinks a bit, She sees several books out and quickly picks them up and sets them in her pack... "There..." She mutters to her self. Her accent, really is not Sith Makar in the slightest, it's pithy, very prim, proper, learned... LIke she'd been living her whole life with a bunch of elves. Or in her case, a bunch of elves and a great wyrm Bronze, but who'sw counting right?!?!

Tirry then looks around and peers at her two thermoses... She picks up a pot, and sets it on a small fire she has that's in a foldeable brazure, after getting water of course.... "I shall make some tea.... Does anyone here have anything against a spiced chai? Great for the winter climes..."

Ezil nods to Cryosanthia, his paint-chipped armor being something he wears until he goes to sleep. "I understand, I feel vulnerable the same way." he offers, looking then to Tirry as she speaks, smirking as he still wiggles that last sausage at the Sith-Makar. "I will take some chai. I have had it before, and it was good for the cold." watching, and seeming to move on from the previous incident as he laughs. "Did you plan to read while you fished?" as of the sausage not taken, he himself will eat it.

Cryo slips into the shelter and finds a seat once Ezil is inside. "Chai sounds delightful, yes please. Peace be on your nest." She looks at the fishing line, the books. She muses, "I should have tried ice-spear fishing."

Tirry nods "Peace upon your nests.." She says, and again, she's quite proper in her speach patterns, it probably sounds quite odd... Tirry sits back, waiting on the pot to get hot... She then looks at her fishing poles and reaches over to a book and holds it up...

It's litterally a book on ice fishing... It even has designs on the little fishing poles she's using... "I thought a litlte practical application of what I'm reading would be quite useful." She explains...

Ezil nods as he makes his way in to take a seat, eating that last bit of his snack as he looks to Tirry. "Very studious of you." not offering the Sith-Makar greeting, but looking between the two as they talk. It's Cryo whom he focuses on last, her words making him chuckle. "Fish wouldn't see it coming. Just an instant of shock and cold. "

"Oh! That makes perfect sense." Cryo laughs, looking over the diagrams. "Do you plan on selling the fish?"

"Getting them before they float away might be hard though." She tells Ezil, her head bobbing slowly, "I do want to try. Hmm... maybe with a hook."

Tirry smiles toothily. "Well I brought the brazure for a reason, and these little area heating artifices too.. Some crazy girl who appears to have sprouted an iron-back riding drake for a lower body sold them to me.. Pretty reasonably at that.' She says and glances around curiously, before tilting her head while she looks at the others.. "So I guess with you here.." She starts assembling another little brazier, in the corner of the tent area is a small stack of wood and charcoal of all things. Seems the young bronzie has planned well.... She soon has another fire going, and pulls out a frying pan too... "Soo my plan is to catch them, and quickly gut, and head them, then cook them in this frying pan, or I could roast them ont he brazure...." She says and looks to the others.. "I have, for spices.. Basil, thyme, pepper, Lemons and butter..." She says and glances between the two... "It just means with three of us, we needs catch more or bigger fish, right?"

"I know her." Cryosanthia watches the brazier get set up, head tilted in curiosity. "You have come well prepared. Both of those sound good. You must have a drill. Is the ice thick enough to put more holes in it here, or do we use the same one."

She reaches over, "Also, Ezil, are you warm enough there? Do you need to sit on my pack or move closer." She shrugs her backpack off, takes a Chalice out of it, hands the bag to the human, "Here, use it as a cushion anyhow, extra insulation."

Ezil bobbs his head at Tirry. "That would be Kaelyn I'd suspect." looking to Cryosanthia with a glance. "I'd bet coins, and I am not a betting man." he notes, looking back to the bronze Sith-Makar and watching as she talks of fish. "Oh, I agree with all of those. Herb and butter fish is..." his smile soft. "It reminds me of home." something he rarely talks of. With his stick left over, he then begins to pick his teeth, a bit uncultured at times.

Ezil adds. "Oh I am warm enough." he muses. "I have more... endurance than most."

Tirry tilts her head "Umm It should be quite comfortable in here with the fires and the heaters..." She says and motions to the fabric... "Got this to help stop rain, it's double layered and has a really cheap alchemical treatment to keep moisture and wind out.. so with two layers, and the heater we should be quite comfortable..."

Tirry then tilt sher head as she looks at Cryo, that ridge along her neck raising and lowering as she considers... "I likely don't have your resistances." She says and smiles a bit at Cryo.. "Not Silver, or White, where as I can swim very well, and lightning doesn't work too well, cold is most affective..." At this point Tirry sees the tip of a rod twitching maddly, and she reaches over and lifts the rod tip, setting the hook and quickly she reels for a while, soon enough having a large trout out.. "Also..."

She uses her tail to grab another hole drill and hands that to Cryo... "There's 2 more rods by the way, I was going to dig 2 holes and fish 4 rods..." She says and looks at the fish which she squints at, and then quickly uses a small hammer to bonk in the head, thus killing it, before she litterally uses her claws to gut the thing out quickly, efficiently, and she is then filleting the fish....

Snow starts to lightly fall, as Ezil, Cryo and Tirry are ice fishing in what looks like a large-ish tent! There's some snow dissapearing where it's in contact with the bank, the front drapes waaay out over the water, where there's a sheer drop to allow them to fish!

Merek makes a way to the bank of the Tornmawr, while he looks about, finding the tent. He seems curious while he looks to that place, wiggling his way to them, with a little wave offered as well, peeking in, "Fishing!"

The white sith-makar nods knowingly at the bronze one. She takes the hole-drill and works it into the ice. Ribbons curl away from it as she screws it in and through, hands rotating. "Are we using the guts for bait?"

"Oh hi Merek. Yes. I think there's room." Cryo wiggles all the way back to the edge of the tent, her tail curled tightly under her seat. She hands the drill over to Ezil and takes up one of the rods. "You have yours with you, right Merek?"

Ezil raises a hand quickly to Merek's entrance. "Hello!" he calls with an odd inflection, his smile growing as the other two go about tasks, taking that drill and setting it a few feet from the other hole, looking at it as he motions to Tirry. "This button, right?" he asks, looking up to Cryosanthia's question. "I'd prefer we did, though I know a woman who scrubbed them clean and made soups." he admits, though his tone suggests that might not be his favorite.

Tirry peers at Merik now curiously, and tilts her head to the right, then left, and hands him a pole too.... Seems like she might have guessed this would happen? Then as if to explain her actions and preparedness, she holds the book out to Cryo, smiles and wordlessly points at what it says about setting up the 'shack' "Be prepaired, people will join you." Tirry smiles, winks and then well, yup, she's reeling in another fish...

Merek looks to the fishing pole, while he nods a bit, then he takes one from the pack with him, "I also keep a little pole with me as well," he says, then he shifts that device to place it into the ice water, while he begins to fish, looking to Ezil and nodding, "Hey," he says, then he smiles to Cryo, looking to Tirry, "Boots of the Winterland, wonderful!" He wiggles his boots as well!

"Well, protein is protein. Dried and fried I'm sure it would taste fine. Cleaned, yes, the grit would bother you, wouldn't it?" Cryosanthia asks, going for some of the bait-guts and putting it on her hook. She drops the hook into her hole in the ice and pulls the line to reel out several lengths.

"Tirrynelth, this is Merek the Scribe. Merek the Scribe, this is Tirrynelth. She uses Tirry, I believe, at least with younglings. We met last night at ..." some things are not shared with non-sith, "a completely random intersection. She was raised by a dragon and likes books. Really useful, informative books." Cryo stares at the page. How did it know?

"What do those do? Keep you warm? Ha, Ezil will show you, pretending he's not cold at all."

Ezil nods, not being ashamed to answer Cryosanthia. "Oh yes. Too fishy tasting for me. I prefer the meat and skin." his pickiness on display as he presses the button to the small artifice drill, looking to Cryo at her last words. "I didn't say I wasn't cold, but I am a bit used to it than others." his huff coming with a smirk. "I'm not like some of the Sith-Makar, but the sun has made my skin thick." though clearly it's not like scales or magical resistances. As the device whirs to life, he watches it go about it's task, moving to take up one of the poles. "If it looks fun, people will gather." this bit of words shot at Tirrynelth.

The howling wind and bitter cold don't seem like ideal weather to go fishing, or for any other outdoor activity, really. Still, Seldan can only take so much of being cooped up inside, and there's magic to deal with the cold problem. Dressed for the weather anyway, in a black coat with white edging and silver thread accents, a scarf around his neck, the fair sorcerer is quite visible against the rocks supporting the Highnridge as he walks along the banks of the river, the whistling wind ruffling the locks of hair that aren't pinned by the headband he wears.

Tirry smirks a bit, she's allready gotten another fish cleaned and gutted, and she's letting the fillets stay on the ice so they stay nice and fresh... "Soo how many fish do each of you want?" She asks curiously. "I'm not used to cooking for more than one person, soooo, I shall have to use your expertise on the amount of food you would like?" She asks curiously...

"I don't need a lot," Merek mentions, with a nod between the three, then to Seldan when he's about while he looks from that tent, "Merek," he admits, to the introduction, while he smiles a bit. Then he's seated back while he takes a drink from the flask with with him while he catches a fishie! A nice one!

GAME: Merek rolls survival: (17)+3: 20
GAME: Cryosanthia rolls survival: (12)+0: 12
GAME: Seldan rolls survival: (19)+16: 35
GAME: Tirrynelth rolls survival: (14)+1: 15
GAME: Ezil rolls survival: (13)+2: 15

Ezil watches the small group go about fishing, looking then to the hole that has been complete and dropping his line with a bit of bait in. He's mimicking, as it was no joke when he said he didn't do much of this in his youth, but unwilling to be shown up. Hopefully. "So do you plan to fish often, Tirrynelth?" he asks casually, just killing time in the small tent.

Well Cryosanthia isn't feeling the cold at all! Just because she shot herself in the foot with an ice ray and that foot is now very close to a brazier. It means nothing. She grins wordlessly at Ezil.

Voices! A Fishing Tent! A way to be outside and inside at the same time. The white sith's reply to the bronze one might be heard emmanating from within by the sorcerer wandering out in the cold. "One or two each should do Tirry. I am not sure I will catch anything. You look like you're doing ok. You too Merek."

Cryo tilts her head and calls, "Is there someone out there, do you want to come in?"

Some of the voices emerging from that tent are familiar to Seldan, and he looks up from his wander along the riverbank, approaching the tent more closely.

From his left hip, where a sword in its sheath hangs from a weapon belt, a lower timbre, female voice speaks up. "Is that ... a fishing tent?"

"It seems so. I may be able to be of aid." Approaching the tent flap, he peers inside curiously. "Peace upon your nests, and peace to you," he nods to all inside. "Forgive me, I couldn't help but notice. There is a small eddy a bit further downstream, that is calmer and possibly warmer. Perhaps if your search fails, you may seek it."

Merek nods a bit to all of the people about in the tent, while he smiles to Cryo, "Thank you," he says, then he places a few fish into a pack while he considers, "I might take you up on that," he adds.

Tirry looks up, and well again, she's all smiles as she looks to Seldan and gives a slight nod "Peace to your nest." She says in greeting... She's sitting near a couple fish fillets, then suddenly is tugging on the tip of her fishing pole, lifting it up as she sets the hook...

Tirry tilts her head to the right again and is reeling in the fish! She soon has it up, and now that makes three fishies... She gets the thing cleaned quickly and looks around for her frying pans....

Ezil catches a fish, looking up to Seldan with a grin. "Well. Hello!" he says, rising a hand as the creature flops on the hook for a moment, but he soon goes to task to get it free, offering it to Tirrynelth. "Must be beginners luck, that or they are hungry." he notes, the small tent seemingly attracting much attention, resetting his hook, giving a sideways glance to Cryo. "You look like you are having fun." which he seems to be too.

Cryo pulls up her line. No bait, no fish. "Peace be upon your nest. It's Tirry's tent. If she's wants to move it..." She looks over at the other sith, then looks over the recent arrival. Strange, sounded like two voices... "Does the fishing book say anything about calm warm eddys?"

She grins at Ezil, "Well, Fun yes, but no luck."

Merek looks content with his fishing, while he looks to the water, "It's always nice and a bit relaxing to fish," he says, with a lift of flask to take a drink, then seating back.

"You seem to do quite well. I would not trouble you," Seldan straightens just inside the front flap of the tent, but does not yet fully enter. "Only if you lack would I move it."

Tirry tilts her head, smiles and motions to a seat "Sit down... Relaxe." She says simply. THen smiles, and now is pouring a cup of spiced tea for everyone here..... She also drops some butter into a pan, starting to break it down... She then grins and sets some fresh herbs into it, and in goes the fish fillets...

Tirry then begins whistling as she smiles a bit, sing songing while cooking...

Cryosanthia examines Merek carefully attempting to discern the truth in his words. If she had any perception or ability to read people, especially non-sith, this might be a decent strategy. However, she doesn't. She has to make sense from witnessed events. He was recently killed and brought back, after that, maybe drunk, maybe not in public. Then, covered in blood, his and a demon's. He seemed fine while they were appealing on the streets, but... "Are you Ok, Merek? This one cannot tell. Have your studies gone well? Did you find the information you sought?"

She looks between Tirry and Seldan, "have some food? I don't think we're moving..." Cryo suggests to the sorcerer, dropping her hook in the hole again.

Ezil watches, tossing his hook in the hole letting it sit. Cryo's concern for Merek causes him to look that way, canting his head and taking a look at the man as he takes a hit from that flask of his. "What do you keep in that?" he asks, just trying to see if the man needs occupying, taking lead from Cryosanthia. With that, he just looks to his pole, and then to Tirry as she begins to prepare the fish for cooking.

Merek looks to the flask, "It's whiskey," he says, while he takes a moment to nod to Ezil, then he looks to Tirry, and to Cryosanthia, "I am well enough, I am researching into ways to assist people." He smiles, though he does actually look a little bit distant while he looks to the fish, "What about you all?" he asks.

"Your invitation is kind." Seldan drops the mention of moving, instead closing the flap behind him and taking a spare space, whether that be in a chair or upon the floor of the tent. It's the question to Merek, though, that has his attention, and he keeps his eyes on the Seer, listening carefully. Something is afoot.

"Ok. If it is as you say." Cryosanthia replies, "This one cannot tell. This one wonders, were you on Redridge Mountain for more than fishing? Some troubled thoughts? I can let the waters lie still. If all is well..."

The white sith-makar suddenly jerks her line up. Empty! She reaches for more bait, reaffixes it, drops the hook in the icy water. "Then what was Azog's challenge? To be considered friends I must know your birthday, favourite colour, favourite food?"

Ezil nods his head to Cryosanthia, listening about the words of Azog. "That's his standards, yes." he notes, offering a noise in thought. "I would of said tea and herb roasted rabbit, but my palette has found some new tastes since coming here." he muses, looking to Cryo and the others. "As for birthday. I was born on the last day of what is now the Rose Treaty festival during Callem." looking to the others to see if they will share.

Ezil adds quickly to Merek afterward. "I don't know how you stand Whiskey. Strong drinks turn my gut."

Merek nods while he waits for folk to discuss their birthday, "Mine's December, I like the winter a lot," he teases, with a chuckle. "Ah, well whisky doesn't look like it affects me as much," he says.

Cryosanthia raises her hand preventatively towards Tirrynelth, but the gesture is unnecessary as the bronze sith is occupied with the fry up. "I am not familir with that festival Ezil, is it celebrated every year or there was only one because of the treaty. And we have just missed your Birthday Merek, that is unfortunate. I was travelling through the jungle at the time, it was a struggle. Very... moist."

Her gaze travels to Seldan, "We have just met, if you do not wish to say, it is understood."

Seldan smiles easily enough, and does not appear to take the request amiss. "The 13th day of Eatonis, just before High Sun," he answers, leaning forward. "One's birth day is no great secret, among my people." His words are tinted with the lilt of the Myrrish.

Ezil smirks. "Every year." he notes. "Well here anyways. Where I come from it was just my birthday." his musing tone coming as he looks to Merek, and raises a brow. "I can tell, it's usually why I stick to small-beer." he chimes about the man's flask again, checking his line. The fish seem to have eluded him this time. "Ya know... I think this is one of the strangest ways to fish." looking then down the hole for a moment, peering. "I hear the festival is wonderful though." looking then to Merek and Seldan, noting those dates, smiling wider. "We should all go to the festival together this summer."

Merek nods a bit to Ezil, while he looks to Seldan, then it's back to Cryo, "I would not mind it at all, to get a bit of festival work in, though I like the quiet," he admits. Then he takes another of the fish, while he packs that into his fishing pack.

Tirry is finally done! yay for her!!! She's soon carefully 'fishihng' if you pardon the pun bits of the six fillets, offering each person a half a fish at first.... "Here." she says simply. Soon as she has handed everyone a plate, she sits back on her pads, her finned tail wrapping around her feet as she looks froom person to person to person now curiously...

Cryosanthia grins, very widely, her mouth wide open up the long sides of her mouth. All those teeth. She has an impish appearance, not cat about to swallow a canary, not crocodile about to swallow a chicken... dragon swallowing a cow. Or knight. One of those. She winks her right eye with a wiggle of her nose. "Well I wasn't born, I hatched. So I don't have to tell you."

Oh wait, it was pelican and a fish. Cryo takes the plate and her half-fillet.

Ezil scoffs at Cryosanthia. "Nonsense. You were part of a clutch? You have to at least tell us a season." he muses, sniffing at that fish, and looking to Tirry as she seems to be whipping up something that smells pretty good. "You read a book about cooking too?" he teases the bronze Sith-Makar. "You might of hatched, but any way of being brought in to this world is worth celebrating."

Caim enters the area and looks to the people present. The heavy armor he wore looks like it should allow much range of movement but it does, armor plating moving with the body. The helmet opens to reveal a human face as he looks to the people. "So this is Alexandria?" He asks as he looks around. He pulls out something off his back and puts his armored gauntlets together and slowly his armor begins, well unfold would be the best word to describe it, beginning to form into the frame and soon the armor was off him and he looked to the others, a tool set on his waist as he begins too work with the metal plate. "Not the most impressive." Seldan takes a plate in his turn. "My thanks to you," he says to Tirry, then adds, "I would be pleased to, if Guild and Temple work permit. It may be that I am not in the city, but if I am, I would be pleased to do so. There are few enough festivals, and too many cares."

Tirry smirks a bit, and looks from person to person curiously "Hatch days are usually celebrated till we're casted.... Then it's caste selection days... " She says with a slight smirk, then goes back to 'looking innocent'... She whistles a bit takes a bite of fish, and promptly put ssome more on to cook....

"Yes, but there is a distinction. You celebrate the suffering of your mother to bring you forth. Our cluth-mother lays an egg, or eggs. They are generously sized, this is true, but they squish down and the effort is not remarkable. More important is the day of hatching, when we struggle to break the shell to enter the world. Each sith chooses to come out. Some do not. Some, clutch-mothers will try to assist. This is not advised. This is... hmm..."

Then Caim's entry interrupts her train of thought. Cryosanthia blinks at the young man in heavy plate armour. Blinks again as it folds away. "And I discuss intimate details openly for a stranger to hear. No, not a good impression for Alexandria I would think. The riverbanks are perhaps not the best view of her. The ice here is thick enough... you should not fall through..."

"Peace upon your nest. I am Cryosanthia, Speaker of the Sith-Makar."

Merek notices Caim with a nod to him, while he looks to the sith-makar in thought, both of them, "Pretty interesting," he says, about that fact, while he adds, "I was born in Veyshan."

Ezil looks up and shifts to see Caim, with a raised brow. He sets his pole aside, standing and offering a raised hand in greeting. "Hello, Stranger." his inflection of the Faring Folk, but the rest of his words have no real accent. "It depends on where you hail from I guess, but this place is... not the same for everyone." he admits, nodding then to Merek. "That's a pretty dry place, isn't it?"

Seldan, who has quietly listened to much of this without comment, turns his attention instead from Merek to Caim. "The folding armor is most useful, here in the city, is it not? One must clean it before folding it, though."

Tirry tilts her head to the right, then smiles slightly, yeah she's got a toothy maw, deal with it... The startlingly draconic Sith then adds.. "If it makes anyone happy, I was born a little over 18 years ago, in spring time... " She says and grins again... SHe digs through her bags and out she pulls a couple boxes "Sooo when we are done with fish, I have desert..." She adds and yes the grin is very very visible. The easy-going and oddly accented Sith really is a kind of subdued cheerful type...

Caim looks to Seldan and shrugs. "Dont need to clean it to fold it. but sometimes people dont appreciate a person wearing heavy plate armor." He says as he looks to the others. "I came to make a living. I am a smith and weapons merchant." He says with a smile. He then pulls out his gauntlet and detaches a barrelled device off of it, revealing it to be a dragonspitter.

"Ah! I have seen those! I am terrible with them." Cryo says happily, catching sight of the dragonspitter. "So you hold favourable views of Artificers? This one knows one that can be met. I was shown how to use that, the trees were very unhappy. For contacts with smithys, I have no idea."

Ezil eyes that dragonspitter as it's being detached. "An artificer's weapon eh?" he asks just in general, looking to the small group with him, and settling on Cryosanthia. "Yeah, Kaelyn showed us a few, didn't she?" he muses then, sitting back down, thinking on something Caim said. "I know a shop owner, but I think it is more enchanted goods he work. No smiths I know, but maybe now I do." looking up to Caim again then. "Setting up shop?"

"A dragonspitter can be used by most people, it just takes a bit of work to train to use it," Merek admits, while he looks to people, nodding to folk as well.

"I would hope so, being an artificer myself. Father was a wizard. If he could see me he would be so disappointed." He says with a smirk as he begins the process of cleaning the dragonspitter. "I can teach you how to use these. They require a little skill but anyone can learn." He says. He then looks to Merek. "And what do you happen to be?" He asks curiously.

Seldan regards Caim, speculatively, at the dismissal of his remark. He says nothing, though, the plate forgotten in his lap, his entire bearing shifting from warmth into a quiet neutrality that seems more inclined to listen than talk. Eventually, he does sample the fish, murmuring his approval to Tirrynelth, but makes no further attempt to involve himself in the conversation.

"Me? I'm a Theurge," Merek mentions, while he nods a bit to Caim, then he looks to Seldan, while he packs up a little bit of his fish, looking to all of them with a nod to Cryo and to Tirry, and to Ezil. "Also a Scribe."

Tirry glances from person to person curiously now, then she casually takes a sip of tea, she's content to be quiet at least for now.... Then the mention of professions.. "I'm technically a sorceresss... Not a very good one, I prefer my books, but I can cast magic."

Cryosanthia , the white sith-makar sits there quietly, holding her plate and observing Caim. Her eyes drift over to see if Tirrynelth has prepared any more fillets. There are a few crumbs on her plate, so she licks her finger and makes sure she gets those, licking what she manages to pick up.

Suddenly! Swiftly! She yanks on her fishing rod, pulling the hook out of the water. It's empty. "Sksss! I thought I saw it twitch."

She baits her hook again, drops it in the hole again.

"Are you able to repair leather armour also. Do you have your tools with you?"

"Yea I can repair leather armor." Caim says as he continues to clean his dragon spitter. "The problem with firearms is they dont work in anti magic fields...Thats why I believe in having a secondary weapon in that event." He says as he gestures to the dagger on his boot. He then puts the dragon spitter back together and looks down it's sights. Satisfied, he attaches it back to the gauntlet of the armor. He then looks to Cryosanthia. "I take it you need it repaired?"

Ezil was finished with his rod a while ago, having caught his fish and being done with it. Shifting where he sits, he looks at the party here at the fishing holes, and smirks to himself. He sips on that chai that was so kindly given, looking between Cryo and Caim. "I don't think dragonspitters are for me, but I think them fascinating." he admits, listening to the talk of repairing some damaged leathers without comment.

Merek keeps on finding nice fishies within to put in the pack. He then nods a bit to all of the people, while he thinks about that. "I can technically wear armor, although that makes a bit of my magic spells difficult," he says.

Cryosanthia sits up straighter with a hopeful expression directed towards the stranger with the dragonspitter and boot knife. She reaches for a small sack beside her. As she does, there's a twitch on her line. Immediately, she changes motions and yanks it. Another empty hook. It's just too much, especially with the way Merek seems to be flipping them out of the fishing hole and straight into his pack.

"This one would ask a favour, but the signs are inauspicious today the fault is mine. I shall make do."

The white sith-makar hands the rod back to the bronze one, returns her plate, and then picks up a Chalice that was lying around on the ice and puts it in flimsy backpack. She stands, keeping tail and limbs close as there's not a lot of room in the tent.

"This one needs time alone with her thoughts. I had dreams last night that need more chewing. Thank you for the food, Tirrynelth, this one hopes to meet and talk again. Friends, New Men, your company was valued. Thanks. You may have my seat if you wish, it is warmer than the ice. Somewhat." Cryo indicates her place for Caim, carries her bag by the string straps and wriggles out of the tent to head off into the white gloom."

Merek looks over to Cryo and offers a wave, "You be well," he says, then he nods to the people which look to be fishing, "I can cook a little if you all would like when we finish!"

Ezil waves to Cryosanthia standing before she leaves. "Be well, White-One." his words for her as he looks to Merek and then Caim. "They dwindle as the chill grows. I have a guest I must look after, but not needing dinner... I could buy drinks for all at the Fernwood." his glance even including Tirrynelth with a wink. "I would say I could stay longer, but I do have a pressing errand there." having been talking about this guest several times infront of Merek.

Caim looks to the man catching fish and watches him. "Fishing is for old people." He says calmly as he watches them and he smiles to Ezil. "Have fun." He says as he goes about cleaning his armor. He unlocks each piece and cleans it.

Merek nods a bit between all of them, "I need to be about my way as well, you all take care," he says.

Dramatis Personae

Cryosanthia
A dashingly tall, lithe white lizardgirl with tattoos.
Cryosanthia is a tall, lithe lizardgirl with flamboyant mannerisms and a flashy style. Her scales are a bright, snow white, complimented by her frills and keratin-scale 'hair' which are the pale blue found in glacial ice. This gleaming tapestry is marred by dark tattoos gouged in her hide, green-black in colouration, which at times have a dark glow. Her snout is long and tapers elegantly. Her legs and tail are likewise graceful, despite being a significant portion of her size and mass. She seems light on her talons and energetic, head glancing quick from side to side. Her eyes are bright and like her frills, the palest of blues with a dramatic slit pupil.
Cryosanthia's clothes are a simple kit of kilted leather armour in white. It is close fitting enough to seem a part of her, but it lacks the lustre of her scales having instead a dull finish. She has sandals that leave her talons free, as well as a hat that is hanging to the back as often as it is on her head. A long blue feather is tucked into the woven band. Finally, she wears a cloak, likewise fashioned from white leather but with a satin interior that matches her eyes. It gleams when the light catches it right. Belted to her hip she has a rapier, a couple of pouches, and a tiny bag on a thong around her long neck.

Tirrynelth
A 7'2" bronze scaled female Sith'Makar.
A not at all common site. This.. Female, at least that is what her figure screams appears to be a draconic humanoid, or maybe a humanoid dragon? Who knows, the distinction isn't very clear. What is clear is that they stand a solid 7 feet 2 inches tall including the large backswept horns that grace the top of their head. They are covered in a fine array of dark bronze scales, the scales showing their colors where they seem to rub together or at least start bronze and slowly darken to an almost black, but more likely metallic extremely dark brown. Their neck and belly scutes are actually a rich bright bronze with only a light dusting of the dark brown and a tinge of green at the tips of the scutes.
Her face? It's dominated by a long slender, and very streamlined muzzle, the scales between her eyes and leading to the small openings that make up her nasal passages or nose are the lighter colored bronze, similar to her scutes, while the rest is dusted in the fine darker scales with only a tint of the metallic bronze hue. Being rather bestial in nature, her face is rather expressive. The draconic creature has rich, expressive aquamarine eyes, though the pupils are round instead of slit. When she talks, or even offers a rather friendly smile, it's obvious she has long, sharp teeth, these definately befitting a predator, and her tongue? It's pink, and pointy per say, not forked as one might think.
This long streamlined head and muzzle leads to an equally elegant and long neck, again the scutes are quite prevalent, these leading into very fine darker scales that cover the sides and back of her neck, with a long bony and finned ridge that runs the length of her neck and well to the center of her back, if one were to guess in some ways it might resemble hair when relaxed, however sometimes this very long crest raises, giving one to guess the nature of her heritage as truly being that of a bronze dragon, or at least she has a very striking resemblance.
Her neck gives way to wide shoulders, they too giving her a bit of a sleek and still oddly female presence to her. That dark scale pattern shows over her arms, and just the inside of her armpits half way to her elbow has the brighter colored scales, with exception of her palms, they too are brighter colored. Long dextrous, clawed fingers cap her slender hands as well, these appearing to be more at home with a pen rather than tearing up prey.
She appears to be rather well muscled overal, from work, or maybe good genetics who knows, as her whole figure is lythe, lean and muscular. Those wide shoulders taper to a thin waist then a wider set of very muscular hips. Giving her a kind of lean wedge-topped hour-glass figure.
Her legs are long, having a digitigrade stance as she walks on a quartet of heavy clawed toes, with a dew-claw at the inside of those broad-set 'paws' of hers.
Occasionally her very long, thick, tapered tail can be seen wrapping around one of those be-talloned feet, a ridge of webbed bony spurs also being visible on said tail from base to tapered tip. This also being a strong indicator of her bronze heritage. Like many of her kind, this creature shows many draconic features, however this particular one screams draconic heritage, as it shows in every facet of her being. From her the shape of her muzzel, to the fins that adorn her neck, back and tail, to the claws on her toes and fingers, and even the way her scales overlap. This is a Sith'Makar that shows her ancient heritage in her very being.
Then her demeanor shows... She's cheerful, bright, engaging, often avoids calling others soft-skin. Tries to engage in conversation openly with most intelligent races, then there's her clothing. She wears a customized leather shirt with simple leather bracers. This shirt having pockets here and there to store her varied sundries. Or is that the harness she wears over the shirt? its hard to say, as there is not much contrast between black and black. She also chooses to wear a kind of leather shorts as it were. These pants ending just below her knees to allow her an easier time to walk, and having a hole cut in the back to allow for the tail. Around her waist is a green sash, and a utility belt. She also oft carries a backpack, a quiver, and a small crossbow that she keeps strapped to her hips. On her back is a backpack, not much else. Often she can be seen having a small dagger at her waist as well, to go with the occasional quill she might carry, or even a book in a special pouch on her hip. All in all, while bearing a striking resemblence to a humanoid dragon, she doesn't really pass her self off as one, much less one of the more tribale Sith 'Makar. Oft one might find her quite engaging, sometimes ditzy, or even silly when interracting with other sentients. At the very least, cheerful and full of energy.

Seldan
There is something about him, if one is human.
It is not easy to pin down exactly what, though. He is not the biggest man, despite a warrior's physique, just shy of six feet tall with a frame more closely resembling that of a gymnast than that of a brawler. Fair as a spring day, with hair equally balanced between ginger and blonde that is grown out of a military cut to fall in his eyes if not disciplined. Ice-blue eyes with blonde lashes hold wisdom and kindness, set into features that are even, straight, and strong. But - in certain lights, and at certain times, humans might almost see in this Eldanar man a glimpse of what a warrior of the Millennium Kingdom might once have looked like.
His attire is not at all that of a warrior, though. A loose shirt with tied cuffs and black-brown trousers form the base, but the open, short-sleeved robe over it, of midnight blue with moon-silvery edging and celestial symbols sewn into the robe, is cut in a way that a wizard is more likely to favor than a warrior. It flows to the tops of practical, soft boots, and is left open to frame the silvery crescent-and-sphere of Eluna on a silver chain, a clear proclamation of the man's allegiance. Weapons hang from a leather belt, a longsword from a sheath on his left hip with an ornately-carved pommel and a guard designed in an ancient style, and a much newer-looking heavy mace on his right hip. A belt pouch completes the contents of the belt, and a sturdy cloak over all in midnight blue bears the crescent-and-sphere of Eluna picked out in a mosaic of thousands of tiny silver crystals on the back. Its clasp is again the crescent-and-sphere of Eluna, made of sturdy and heavy steel resting over his heart.

Caim
You see a man, looking to be in his late teens, early twenties. He is physically in shape. He has black hair, brown eyes and fair skin. He has a moustache and goatee on his face.
He wears heavy plate armor, dark red with golden sidings. The armor seems to be interconnected allowing free range of movement as well as maximium protection. There is a helmet on his neck which seems to be set up where with a simple gesture the helmet will form and cover his head.