Shamans v Warrior

Log Info

• Title: Shamans v Warrior
• Emitter: Skielstregar
• Characters: Skielstregar, Seyardu, Un'eth
• Place: Alexandria Northern Gates
• Time: September 19th, 2021
• Summary: On a fair weather day, there's a commotion at the front gates. The Watch block off the gates and halt traffic as a bloodied sith-makar with long talons and fangs, bloodied, staggers towards the walls. Crossbows are trained, but cease as the figure collapses. Seyardu breaks through the blockade with some words, her rushing out to check in on them. She finds Skielstregar, his resolve against The Hunger broken, and went off in a daze through the forests to keep The People safe. Seyardu reminds him that he must weather through it to make any progress, else he will regress. Just as he was coming around and agreeing, a large wolf appears! And it is none other than Un'eth! Who gives Skielstregar a not so gentle reprimand for his actions. She tells him it is his responsibility to starve and wither The Hunger, and for Seyardu to aid for when he falls. The two shaman clear up something where Seyardu thought she was to not come to Mictlan, yet it was not the case. And she is welcomed back. As Un'eth departs, and the two share a look, and depart.

Northern Alexandria Gates, Late Afternoon.

It's a fair weather day out in Alexandria aside from a prevailing, north eastern wind howling through. Traffic through the gates is light, as most excitement seems to be centered around the ports as of late.

However, something makes a few guards group up upon the walls, one with a telescoping lens to peer further down the northern road. Cresting over a hill was a figured clad in a half burned poncho, as well as tanned leathers dangling from them to obscure their frame. What it did not obscure though, is foot long talons poking out from large hands, and a snout crested with a double set of fangs that were just as long. Blood drips from the tips of their talons, and they stagger towards the gate with a crooked gait.

Some of the guards begin to gather, loading up crossbows and getting a bead, though the wind was making it difficult to guess any clean shots.

A commotion begins to build as townsfolk and blocked from exiting.

Seyardu was taking a stroll through the city with some of her free time, and a commotion at the gates drew her attention and direction northwards. It took some convincing and discussion with the guards before she was allowed out, and she pulled out the polearm from her bag. She stepped closer out the gate, squinting and sniffing the air. It looked like kin, but smelled off, and bloody.

The silverscale, with her connections to the temples and vestments, is allowed through the blockade, a wave of murmurs following soon after.

As Seyardu approaches and takes a whiff, the near overwhelming sense of something bad washes over. Something dead. Or undead. Decay.

A jaw opens, seeping mana ichor dropping out in spots along the ground as their wide gait didn't abate.

And then... regret?

"This one tried... this one tried Vaera... this one is sorry.. so sorry..." a growling, rumble deep voice whimpers before the massive figure buckles. Then full body falls onto the road below. <Draconic>

Seyardu pauses as she coughs from the smell. But she could see the glow of mana and the claws.

"Everyone, stay back at the gates!" She shouts back, remembering something Durrankar said.

"Celestial Mother, grant me sight of magics present." She offers in prayer, before she steps forward cautiously. Trying to discern what magic may be present. But she was not going to leave them injured if she could help.

The crowd makes no motion to advance, doubly so with the guard presence. But crossbows lower as the figure collapses.

The magics wafting off the figure are seeped in foul inkiness: necromancy. Perhaps a tinge of transmutation. The figure tries to get back to their feet by pushing themselves up, but their arms give out, and they fall back to the ground with a thud. "This one just... just needs to... how can her chiuaa live with this...?" the man babbles <Draconic>

<All dialogue is Draconic beyond this point.>

Seyardu sighs. She was hoping for some insight into what was present to ward against, in case they were made to explode like the other injured who had ventured to Mictlan. But there was nothing to be done for that.

"Celestial Mother, staunch your child's wounds." she offers in another prayer with one hand on her breastplate, stopping the prone figure from bleeding out, or his injuries consuming him. "Peace on your nest, kin. This one is here to help." She says with a reassuring rumble and scent. "Can you tell this one what happened? Who's Cihuaa do you speak of?"

Seyardu has reconnected.

Long talons clack against the stone road, as a grey, tarnished scaled arm is bloodied from the inner forearm, looking as if it had been bitten. And slowly, the magics knitted back to its scarred resting state. He gasps in relief, some clarity coming to his frame, but still he laid sprawled out.

The large scale didn't make a move to get up. Though still his double set fanged mouth speaks. "Shaman..." he mumbles, meek despite his size. "Forgive this one... they could not help themselves. The hunger was too much..."

His head rests flat against the ground, hood covering his eyes as the fangs dig into stone. "Un'eth, shaman." <Draconic>

"The hunger?" Seyardu asks as she kneels down to move the prone makari onto his side after a quick look over. "You were consuming the flesh then. Please, clear your head. It is not too much. This one know's Un'eth. Did something happen to her, or Vaera?"

She wanted to heal them, but if there was danger, she did not wish to be the next attacked. Concerned, but attempting to be reassuring.

The large sith-makar rolls over to his side with a bit of effort, metal clanking underneath the pelts and half-there poncho. From here, the healer could easily note that the wounds that were on him were on the unarmored parts of his forearms, recently healed. The injuries having been bite marks. A quick glance to the too large fangs and teeth would be easy to tell that they were self inflicted.

Dead eyes stare at the ground in shame, but he shakes his head sharply. "No. Never other flesh. Never again. Never, never again. Only this one's own..." he firmly growls, a fist tightening as talons clunk together. "No shaman, no... they are fine. This one just... isn't strong enough to..." he trails off. <Draconic>

GAME: Seyardu rolls 4d8+7: (21)+7: 28 (42)
GAME: Seyardu casts Blessing of Fervor(-> Cure Critical Wounds). Caster Level: 7 DC: 17

"What do you mean, not strong enough?" Seyardu asks the makari while helping him into a seat with two arms around his back. She likely would not learn more in his current state, so she pulls on something beneath her breastplate, offering another prayer. "Celestial Mother, mend this ones wounds, bring them back to health through your strength and my own."

She places one hand on his injured arm, emanating a large amount of healing magics to mend his wounds. <Draconic>

He grunts as he gets situated into a seat. "To... resist..." he quietly admits, putting a hand over the staunched wounds. His flesh was cold, and tough. Missing scales in places and overgrown in some. But the healing energy makes him gasp and inhale deeply, eyes widening.

Almost like the large sith-makari man was given a proverbial wake up slap infused with caffeine, he blinks with some clarity, finally drawing his gaze up to look at the shaman.

Snick snick, his eyes blink. Inhale. Something... was off. Perhaps it was the fact that his hunger was sated for the time being. But there was just something he couldn't put his talon on. "... this one is Skielstregar, warrior caste," he blurts out, a bit in awe, were the mingled emotion with the decay anything to go by.

Seyardu crouches down, keeping the other makari upright for a moment. Seeing them come to more, she tilts her head, looking them in the eye for a moment. There was a scent of confusion for a moment. "This one, is called Seyardu. Shaman caste. Peace on your nest, Skielstregar." She replies with a puff of air, clearing the worst of the confusion. "Can you tell me more what happened?"

Skielstregar leans forward, locking his arms against the road to help keep himself upright. He returns the gaze for a moment, a lack of luster to the orbs that most would only have if they were departed. Though, despite such, the eye contact is broken as he resumes looking at the ground.

"Peace on your nest, Seyardu, shaman caste," he respectfully says. His armored tail flicks behind him as shame and embarrassment seeps through. "This one... was in Mictlan. Trying to get used to living among The People again. They have been doing well. But a couple of days ago, the hunger... it came back hard. This one was afraid, so they went into the woods, hoping the isolation would help. But it wouldn't stop. So this one... partook in themselves. Again. To let it run its course..."

"Skielstregar..." The silverscale says with another puff of air. "This is not the way, you will set yourself back if you cannot weather it. And the guards at the gate, they nearly killed you."

She sits down proper now, placing a hand on his shoulder. "If you were concerned, you should have spoken to the shamans. They may have been able to help you through it."

At that, Skiel buries his face into the palms of his hands, long talons covering the top of his spineless head. Frustration seeps in. "This one has tried..!" he whimpers, practically hugging himself at this point. "This one was told the same as you said! It's so hard to... to just NOT do it at all..!"

As if the guards do not already have reason enough to be on edge when the rather large lupine pads her way from the river crossing. It may be her conspicuous coloration that grants her some familiarity, the lack of obvious aggression, or mere size that causes hesitation of the Watch. Given that some water still clings to her fur, it's likely that she did not make use of the ferry and she stops to shake once more when she spies the scaled in the road. The traffic halted at the gates. She resumes a slightly altered course to close upon the sith-makar.

"It is difficult. But you cannot just give up, you need to push through, and not fall back, despite how you are tested." Seyardu continues, squeezing the shoulder with the reassuring scent and rumble from before. "This one has learned of people in Alexandria with cravings, not like yours, but they struggle all the same. But I have learned many find success in finding ways to keep occupied when these urges are at their worst."

Seyardu looks back to see the large wolf, and sits up a bit straighter. "There is a wolf approaching, Skielstregar. Can you stand? It appears to be moving closer."

The approaching wolf would hear the rumbles and hisses of the dragon tongue, a large scale slumped over on the ground with a silverscale reassuring them. There is blood in the air, but it is stagnant.

Skielstregar glances up, it looking like he'd been down this path too many-a-times. "But... this one... there is no substitute... no..." he sighs, and huffs as well as he slumps more. "... once more the wisdom of the shamans are better than what this one thinks is best..." <draconic>

He glances up at the warning. Gives a small gasp, then staggers to his feet, filled with a purpose. There's a clank of wood as two hand axes are pulled free from rings on his armor. The deadscale stands in front of Seyardu, protectively. "Thisss one thinksss you are far from the forestsss, pup..." he cautiously says, staggering on his feat a bit from exhaustion.

Dire Wolf exhales a sharp snort, possibly at the stagnant scent. She utters a brief low growl that alters to rumble and hiss. "As are you, young one." Her form then begins to ripple: white fur recedes to reveal ebon skin; mass is shed from trunk and limb; posture arches more upright; matte skin segments and shines of scale. "Peace. I am no threat to you, and you are no threat to me. What has left you here, upon the ground outside these walls?" While she now bears frills rather than ears, her head tilts in curiosity with the question in a somewhat lupine or canine fashion. <draconic>

Dire Wolf ripples and alters, gaining or retaining humanoid form, yet growing a muscular tail as her body smooths over in fine ebon scales.

"There is no substitute, none is needed." Seyardu says with a shake of her head. "You do not replace it, but cease, slowly."

She too was on her feet with the polearm held loosely, but when they spoke, and changed, she chuffs, stowing the weapon away in her impossibly large satchel once the blade was wrapped up. "Shaman Un'eth! Peace on your nest, it has been too long." She greets, with genuine joy and relief in scent. Her tail thumps once against the stone road. "This one heard commotion outside the gates, and found Skielstregar here, collapsed. They were, perhaps he can explain better. Are you well though?"

Again, Skielstregar gives a light gasp, surprise and regret mingling with the scent of death. The weapons briskly stowed away. "Shaman Un'eth..! This one...!" he blabbers for a bit before hanging his head. A nod is given to Seyardu. "This one is... better. Tired, but better. Uh..."

The man clacks his talons together. He mumbles something under his breath, like he was trying to admit it, but not loud enough. A cough to clear his throat. "This one... *sigh* this one's urges hit much too hard, and scared themselves off into the forests. And... partook again..." He shows his arms, both recently healed with stagnant blood on them. "... this one is sorry."

Un'eth's eyes widen at Skielstregar's explanation. She snaps a curt "No!" even as a hand lifts... to bring her palm down smartly, yet bluntly across the top of his snout. Scales prevent any harm, and the force is not enough to intend it, but the sensitive target might sting. All to get one's attention, not unlike swatting a hatching to prevent it from sticking a curious snout into a fire, or snatching a colorful fruit that would make it ill.

In fact, -exactly- like that.

"You do not deny it with your own flesh, you only taunt it to want more!

Seyardu stood up, her own head tilted as she listens and waits for a response.

Only to find Un'eth smacking Skielstregar on the snout. She almost reacts, but she recognized it well, and so she just bows her head out of shared shame despite it not being her fault or problem in the slightest, even with the accompanying shame and worry.

"This one is sorry, Un'eth." She says quickly in response, only to blink.

The silverscale chuffs. "This one, ah, apologies, it is not my fault."

Skielstregar, to be completely honest, was not seeing such a thing coming. His eyes were downcast, wringing his hands together in shame. The curt denial makes him glance up, only for a minor flare of pain to burst across his snout. He yelps, staggering back and bumping into Seyardu on accident. It didn't really hurt, the action stunned him more than anything. He rubs his snout, him shrinking away like a scolded child.

Because he practically was. "... y... yes shaman. You are right," he bows his head respectfully. A glance to Seyardu, and he shakes his head. "No, you helped this one greatly. Any fault at all should be this one's to bear."

Un'eth returns to her former stance, though her posture is stern as eyes flick between the two and her tail flicks in thought. "The blame is upon those who did this, and they are vile cowards not present to accept responsibility. So it falls to you" a claw points to Skielstregar, "to stand against the unnatural hunger they instilled. Starve it. Bury it. Cause it to waste away. If you hunger, Ea provides. Deer, boar, rabbit. Hunt those."

Another claw, now to Seyardu, "It falls to you to aid him. If he falls weak, bear him. If he is pained, soothe him. If he has doubt, encourage him. If he forgets," her eyes peer at Skielstregar, "remind him. With hand to his snout, if need be."

Seyardu shifts awkwardly, like one not used to the sternness in that manner. When the claw points to her, she bows her head.

"This is the first time this one has met Skielstregar, but you are correct, Un'eth. Wise as one would expect a shaman caste to be. This one would have done so, provided aid, encouragement, and the assurances of kin looking out for each other. If that guidance needs to be with a physical nudge, I will remember that."

Skielstregar bows his head at the same time as Seyardu. An amusing sight, the towering makari being scolded, yet guided so with a firm hand. "Yes Un'eth. This one... this one should do as his duties are, and fight against the hunger."

A dead sey of eyes glance to Seyardu. Nose hurting at the thought. "... this one will tr-... will. This one will seek the silver shaman out if need be."

Un'eth's tail begins to sway more slowly and this trickles up her spine to relax her posture. Her scents calm accordingly. "I speak harshly so that you will remember. The alternative is that you forget... succumb ... and truly forget. None of us wish that upon you, and will fight to prevent it. For you, with you. You are of The People and are never alone."

"Ah, I think I understand, Un'eth." Seyardu nods, standing up a bit straighter, and looking back to Skielstregar. "Yes, please, do not hesitate to seek me out." She responds. "This one would help others however able."

Skielstregar sighs heavily, a gout of visibly cold air spilling forth in front of him. The tarnished bronze scale nods. "This one will remember, and deserves no less if this one slips as so." The man's deathly scent mingles in with wistfulness. "... my time away from The People has robbed me of the bonds that tie us together."

To Seyardu. "This one will try. Where can this one find you? This one has not seen a silverscale in Mictlan at all."

"You should reform those bonds," Un'eth advises Skielstregar. "Mictlan is one such place to easily do so," claws wave at the gates, "yet many are also found here. The softskins here are not all unstrustworthy, either." She dips her snout to Seyardu to acknowledge her understanding.

"This one, is usually found within the city, often in the temple to the Celestial Nest-Mother, who the softskins in the city refer to as Althea. It has been, too long since this one has been to Mictlan." She replies with another chuff and look to Un'eth. "But I agree with her words. You should keep those bonds with kin, as we will help as we can, yet there are also many softskins in the city who are good people. Many of them are my friends."

The man bobs his head. "This one is doing their best. Though stays near the edges of the land. For..." He shakes his head. "This one will try and stay closer to The People. And seek either of the shaman, should need be. Will, need be."

He turns to Seyardu. "... this one has been meaning to visit the city, but this time has wandered too close in a daze. They now have a place to visit."

"Through these gates, the temple district is a fairly straight path south of here." Seyardu explains, turning back to the gates and giving the guards a wave, before turning back to the two other Makari. "It is one of the buildings near the center of the open space, where the fountain is found in the plaza. Ask for me, I will likely be around, and if not, I am likely at the temple of the Dragonfather, Daeus they call him, next to it."

"Perhaps another day to visit, as I should clear things up with the guards, but you are welcome in the city, this one promises."

Skielstregar bows his head slightly, a hand going to the symbol of the Dragonfather on his neck. "This one thanks you for the knowledge- There is a shrine to the Dragonfather here?" he blinks, them smiles in the way that Makari do.

"Yes, perhaps this one can come back after their head is cleared and the... effects," he clanks his talons, one tapping against the set of two fangs on him, "Recede."

"The effects recede?" Seyardu asks as she looks up to the bronze scaled sith-makar, tilting her head. She reaches into her bag, pulls out a cloth and flask of water, pouring the water into it and offering to him. "That is good then, I am happy to hear that. You may feel better if you clean yourself up, as well."

Un'eth is familiar with the city, but only passingly. It is not a place she often visits. Even less so the temples as, while she respects the gods, they are not hers, per se. She is quiet for Seyardu's shared words, only now speaking to agree. "Seek to steady and groom yourself, first. Then you can seek what the city has to offer. I understand there is much trouble there, now, so it is best that you are not mistaken for a threat. Many softskins fear predators even though they are not prey."

Skielstregar gives a somber nod. "Yes, they do. If this one partakes..." he glances to Un'eth, holding up a hand in a placating manner. "This one ends up with the strength of the forgotten kin. But it... addles the mind." He gives a light sigh of appreciation and accepts the cloth, him wiping down his arms, talons, and fangs. "This one will do so back in Mictlan."

He regards Un'eth, with a bit of a bow to his frame out of respect. "Of course, Un'eth. This one can head back to Mictlan with you to do so. Just to keep an eye on them."

"This is a good idea. I would join you, but I have too much business in the city, and I do not wish to bring danger back to Mictlan, either. Durrankar made me promise I would not do so." She replies, with a small puff of air, and a scent of sadness.

"It sounds dangerous, I would avoid it, Skielstregar. You are already strong enough, by the looks of things. Have you been well, Un'eth? It has been so long since this one has spoken to you. This one hopes things in Mictlan are well."

Un'eth dips her snout to Skilestregar. "You are welcome, always." As her head pans to Seyardu, it cants in that gesture of curiosity once more. "What danger is this? I trust my cihuua's wisdom and caution, but know that he would not exclude any from Mictlan."

Skielstregar looks a bit curious as he looks between the two. Not sure what to say at the moment, as he is unwares of anything going on.

Seyardu seems to think for a moment. Confusion grows, and she looks up to Un'eth. Then, she chuffs.

"Now that this one thinks about it, he did not say not to bring danger here. He spoke of crimes, and I did not know what he meant exactly, but also said not to seek asylum there, due to committing them. Perhaps, this one got confused by something Cryosanthia said to me before, and thought of it as such."

Then, she sighs, and the sadness remains. "But that still does not change how I do not wish harm to come there."

Un'eth's head bobs as she listens to Seyardu. In the end, she gives a light snort. "If the softskins thought you guilty of crimes, then Durrankar would not want their ire brought to Mictlan. If there are no such accusations, there is no ire to avoid. If you believe your presence would bring harm, you are not forced to come to Mictlan. Still, all are welcome there."

Skielstregar nods along. "Softskin laws are strange," is what he gathers from it all. "This one would not think you would bring any harm to Mictlan. This one welcome you."

"That is not what I meant. This one, did not know what was meant by crimes, this one did not realize how complicated things in the city would be." Seyardu sighs. "It is a long story Skielstregar. Perhaps this one can go there. Although, on that subject, Un'eth, you know Cryosanthia, yes? You should speak to her, when you have a chance. She has been recovering from injuries, but could use some people to talk to, and perhaps offer support. Her foundling, they were lost recently."

With that comment from Skielstregar she looks over, and thumps her tail once. "That is kind of you to say though, thank you. I appreciate that."

Skielstregar bows his head, . "This one hopes that Crysoanthia can find peace. In body and heart. You needn't explain further." He turns a bit towards the northern path, his tail smacking the ground as well. "Of course. You helped this one a great deal. And prevented the guard from arrowing him down."

Un'eth's casual posture tenses at mention of injured, and her tail's sway halts at the notion of foundlings lost. She does not ask anything further and simply thumps her tail in confirmation. "I will seek her. I have business within the city and shall seek her there." There is a moment of thought and consideration. "We may meet again within the walls, or Mictlan. Peace on your nests." It is given as a farewell before she turns to head into the gates proper.

"This one hopse so as well, Skielstregar." She nods to him. "This one only did what any would for kin. Please, do not hesitate to seek me out, or seek the help of others in Mictlan."

She looks to Un'eth,and thumps her tail once. "It was good to see you again Un'eth, peace on your nest. And peace on your nest as well, Skielstregar. It was good to, meet you." She offers to the two, lingering on the bronzescale a moment before she thumps her tail against the stone again.

Skielstregar waves to Un'eth as they go, but blinks as she heads towards the gates. A small sigh, and he shrugs. "Peace on your nest, shaman. Thank you once more."

He turns to Seyardu, him meeting her gaze. His head tilts to the side. Eyes blinking with a 'snick'. "... it was good to meet you as well, Seyardu. Peace on your nest."

He thumps his tail as well, a metallic clank from the metal on there.

He turns northward, and heads onward with a slow, tired gait.

-End Scene-