Welcome Silence

Log Info

• Title: Welcome Silence
• Emitter: Sjach
• Characters: Sjach, Geir, Un'eth, Cryosanthia
• Place: W02: Mictlan
• Time: Monday, November 23, 2020, 3:11 PM
• Summary: A newcomer, Sjach, is speaking with Geir and Un'eth. His young Swiftclaw is nearby. Cryosanthia and Lily arrive, and her foundling is quite taken by the 'kobold sized' swiftclaw and wants to ride it. Both Sjach and Cryo dissuade her, although the male sith'makar seems unusually upset by the pink youngling's presence. Lily contents herself with climbing Mt. Geir while the adults talk. Sjach reveals he lost his mate and eggs to Troglodytes, and younglings remind him. Geir hints at personal losses and tells that Little Fang has lost her whole tribe, while Cryo obliquely does the same by revealing she is an Egg-Watcher, a woman-only, invite-only sub-caste of warriors who have lost offspring. She assures Sjach that there is a future still, and family is worth greiving. Hunter traditions are discussed, and then the sith'makar separate.

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-<* W02: Mictlan *>-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

Located within the Deep Woods, and hours past Wilderness Pointe, in the heart of its northern woods, bones frame this hollowed-out space. Massive and heavy, they reach towards the sky, meeting--almost--in the center like great and worn stalagmites. Or giant teeth. After a few seconds--it's quickly evident that this is a space carved from a dragon's bones. A very, very large...dragon's bones. The air smells of ash, brimstone, and earth. Underneath the apex of the bones lie the workings of a central Fire.

The grounds are run by shamans of the sith-makar, and the sacred space dedicated to the Death Singing Dragon, one of their names for the goddess, Vardama. There are always a number of them about, from a mixture of tribes. Formally, the sith use it to sing the souls of their dead back to the land of Wing and Flame, and celebrate the Memory of Blood. It was here that brave heroes stood, and vanquished the ashen warriors of old, thereby freeing the land from Thul's curse. Informally, it is a gathering place.

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-  Appearing  -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Sjach        7'0"     268 Lb     Sith-Makar        Male      Lithe emerald and charcoal sith male.
Geir         5'8"     200 Lb     Sith-Makar        Male      A short, copper-scaled Sith-makar.
Un'eth       6'2"     275 Lb     Sith-Makar        Female    An ebon-scaled female Sith-makar
Cryosanthia  6'9"     291 Lb     Sith-Makar        Female    A dashingly tall, elegant white-scaled lizard woman.                        
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=

The sun has set and the evening stars begin to appear in a blue and cloudless sky. A biting wind blows from the northwest.

Inside Mictlan, the weather barriers keep it pleasant for Sith'makar.

There are three sith'makar talking, in the sibilitant draconic language. Sjach seems to be a relative newcomer to this side of the portal. A swiftclaw is digging at a hole in the ground, sniffing after some tasty little critter.

A tall sith'makar woman approaches, white of scale, she's both muscular and flexible. Wearing only some kilted leather armour, there's still the impression of more clothing. She has sloping century horns, that curve back from her brow. With her is a small, carnation-scale youngling, who is a kobold and also wearing a leather dress. She has on a wooden mask, which has several holes that allow features to be plugged in, so currently she has three extra noses.

As the pair draws close, the white female speaks, "Peace on your Nesstss. This one hearss, there iss newcomer?"

Sjach, who had been looking up to the towering bones above as the whitescale approaches turns slowly to glance at her. Upon spying her carying the youngling, his spine ridges bristle slightly, and the tip of his tail flicks in subtle- but apparent- distress. But he calms himself after a moment, and dips his head towards her in silent greeting- and acknowledgement that he is the one she has heard of. The Juvenile swiftclaw who had been clawing at the hole lets out a pleased trill, and leans back- muzzle covered in dirt- the fluffy back end of some burrowing critter hanging out of her jaws. She swallows several times, consuming the critter whole.

The copper-scale notices the swiftclaw's victory meal before seeing Cryo, and chuckles at its pleased noise. "One less burrowing rodent, Little Fire." He looks to Cryo then, and chuckles. "Peace on your nest." Geir glances to Sjach, "The white-scale is Cryosanthia, and the wee kobold is Little Fang, though, she also answers to Lily." Glancing back to Cryosanthia, he inclines his head. "THat one is known as Silence."

"It iss her tradesspeak name. Eassier, in emergenciess." Cryosanthia adds an explanation to the introduction. She approaches Sjach slowly, her nostrils flaring, gathering scents. She noticed the bristling. As well, there is a swiftclaw, and her kobold foundling is quite small. She continues to hold her. The whitescale's posture is very formal, she faces Sjach.

"Silence, thiss one welcomess you to Mictlan. As Sspeaker and on behalf of Sspeaker-Casste and other casstess. Assk, if assisstance is needed. Take mealss and help otherss." She inclines her head slightly, "Was the journey uneventful? Do you bear newss from Am'shere?"

Sjach dips his head a little bit. Following Cryo's gaze to the swiftclaw, he lets out a small trill of his own, and hunkers down, tapping his claws against the soil once more. It takes a couple of attempts, but she comes over to him, teeth still a touch bloodied by the catch. He rubs his knuckles against the scales on her nuzzle and her eyes close. "This one bears little news." he admits, finally. "For ten or eleven rains, this one has wandered." he says but the formal introduction causes him to feel that uncomfortable sensation, of needing to belong, that drew him to this place in the first place. "This one is... was, warrior-caste." he says then. He doesn't look like the typical warrior. A bit wiry, more of a hunter.

"This one has welcomed others such as yourself, Sjach. Cryosanthia was as you were, some time ago, and now she is a Speaker." Geir offers the emerald-scale his hand. "You are welcome here, but you should feel no pressure to belong. Take your time. We..." His snout points to Cryo briefly, "Have worked to reunite those who have wandered, but wish to return, with the People. There is room for all who wish it. Of all the People here, we are the least to judge another."

Little Fang squirms in Cryosanthia's arms. She wants to get down, rush the little Swiftclaw. She's seen her clutch-mother ride them; she is convinced she's looking at one sized just for her. The wooden mask rattles around on her face.

"Little Fang, be sstill."

"Want to ride, Ssassa!" The kobold peeps back.

"Ssassa will assk. Patience." Cryosanthia glances at the juvenile swiftclaw again, but looks back to Sjach, and nods, "Thiss one has been apart a long time."

Sjach looks apprihensively at the little one, though whether it's concern for her well being around the swiftclaw, or that earlier distress he displayed again, it is hard to tell. The membranes on his eyes blink again, though his scaled lids do not. He continues to scrape his knuckles along the swiftclaw's scales, between her eyes now. He glances up towards the copper, "This one felt the call back." he admits then, finally. He'd avoided talking about it earlier, but little by little he seems to be finding his tongue. "But..." he trails off. "This one could not return, not to its tribe." he says.

He looks backt o Cryo and Lilly, "She's not yet trained for riding. She is too small." he says, "But in time, she will be strong as her mother." he adds then. He looks more worried than frustrated by the girl's attempts to come ride the swiftclaw.

Geir's expression is full of humour, at seeing Lily's eagerness to ride, to be like Momma Cryo. "She grows stronger every day, doesn't she?", the copper-scale wonders of Cryosanthia.

He looks to Sjach, his browridges lowering slightly. "This one wonders if Silence has issue with kobolds, or children? This one is simply curious, Little Fang can play elsewhere if one is upset or concerned. This side of the portal might be strange. Monsters that are civilized might be difficult to deal with. Am'shere is full of certainties. This or that is your enemy, or will hurt you if given opportunity. One needs to be canny and quick to survive."

"She will bite," Cryo tells Lily, staring directly at her, "like Torrent. Insstinctss. You are food ssized. Do not go near her. Her mouth. Is understanding?"

"Yess Ssasaa," Little Fang hisses back.

The whitescale nods once and sets her down. Her attention remains primarily on the little pinkscale. "She does, Shaman Geir. Mictlan is good for her. The human city, alsso." Her snout turns to face Sjach again, she inhales again, sniffing for scent cues. She seems coiled, ready to spring, but that may be simple maternal instincts at play. Her voice is friendly if a little on the formal side, "Thiss one is curious about your story. Thiss one would hear. This one will take Little Fang elsewhere if she iss a concern. Also."

Sjach stares ahead, looking into the middle distance for some time, as the other two speak to him. One might think he was ignoring them, but for the faint twitching of his spines or the tip of his tail hinting at thoughts forming slowly in his mind.

After the protracted silence, during which the only sound is the huffing the swiftclaw makes as he continues to knuckle her brow, he eventually speaks. "This one... lost a clutch. A mate, too. Ko-jodakh, destroyed our nests." he finally says, at length. "This one was too slow. Too blind."

"The world is full of many mysteries, good and bad. Many coincidences, also." Geir lets out a low breath, his voice sounding weary. "The wee girl also lost her clutch. Single survivor, if this one remembers correctly. One supposes that she is most blessed of all of us, and hopefully will not remember once she has grown into adulthood." The copper-scale nods then, "This one empathizes. But, you have a guarantee. Little Fang is no danger to you or your swiftclaw. Given time, she will be eager and happy to see you, wanting to ride your shoulder and talk your ear off, should you allow it." He is silent for a short time. "So you must feel a great kinship with the swiftclaw."

At the words, Cryosanthia straightens very tall, her tail going stiff. There's a rush of scents from her, high emotion, and many emotions, which cuts off abruptly. She smells like nothing at all. The hole to the bottom of the world opens up, and she is a sentinel on the edge, a tower. It seems a little colder around her.

Little Fang, was not listening except for the advice regarding the swiftclaw. She takes a wide circle around it, moving slowly, until she is behind Geir. Once the copperscale is a safe body-shield, she makes a small 'rawr', charges and pounces on his tail. She make work up to talking his ear off, but she's started with chewing his tail.

Cryosanthia carefully addresses Sjach, "As Shaman Geir sayss. Her tribe iss lost." The white one remains still, there is another slow breath, "This one understandss. The people will help. This one does not wish to distresss. We shall go."

Sjach glances to Geir, and then back to Cryo. He shakes his head slowly, "You misunderstand." he says, slowly. He glances back towards Lily as she sneaks behind Geir, and then back to Cryo. "The little one only... reminds this one. What has been lost." he says. His own emotions, are much less guarded now that he has spoken the words. There is the scent of distant grief- old, but not diminished by time as it should be.

He looks at the swiftclaw again, and speaks once more, "The ko-jodakh took my future." he says, and points his muzzle towards the claw. "I took her past. It seemed fitting, that we encounter one another." he says then.

Geir holds up a hand to Cryo, and looks to Sjach. "One wonders then, can you stay while she remains also?"

Cryo is halted by the hand. Her pupils have spread wide. A stillness remains with her, as well as the curious lack of scent. A small circle of hoar-frost appears around her feet. She stares at Geir, "This one does not let her thoughts go there."

Her head turns, a careful glance and not-glance at Sjach. "This one is an Egg-Watcher." The name for the females that guard nests, new mothers and hatchlings. Whose embership is invite only, extended to those that have seen their nestlings die, that were driven to the edge of their sanity. They are all very committed. Very damaged. The whitescale smiles weakly, "in training."

There is another pause while she breathes, gathers her thoughts, "She rescued me. She gives purpose. You have more future. Grieve your loss, it shows love."

Sjach regards Cryo as she speaks, as she mentions that, and his spines lay flat against his scales, and he lowers his head deeply, respectfully towards her. Recognizing the significance of it, he says nothing, though. Nothing needs to be said. Both know the same loss, though he may have only sired rather than bore the eggs, it is writ on his features all the same.

Slowly, quietly, he lifts his gaze again. "Riding... may be difficult for her now." he looks over towards the little one, "But, perhaps once she is used to you." he offers, and casts a glance up to Cryo.

The copper-scale regards Cryosanthia once more, and nods slowly. "This one simply meant to see if Lily and yourself might stay here, with Sjach. All of us here have experienced loss. We can support one another, and help each other heal. All of us, together, is better than all of us separate."

Sjach has been out of touch with pretty much everyone for ten years. Seeing Cryo with a youngling was a painful reminder to him of why he had been wandering around alone. Trogs attacked the nest where he and his mates' eggs were.

The whitescale has her own issues that make her want to leave.

"In time." The white-scale agrees, "this one has patience."

Little Fang, meanwhile, is living up to her name. Her little fangs insufficient to get through Geir's scales. She abandons her attack on his tail, resorting to climbing him instead, getting up his back to stand on the shaman's shoulders. She looks like some weird headpiece, and steadies herself with his horns. "Look me Ssassa! Look at me."

This breaks the ice around the whitescale, somewhat literally as there are a few crystaline crinkles as she moves her feet. She's still somewhat chilly, but her smile is warm. "Yesss Lily, thiss one seess. You triumph!"

"You are wise, Shaman Geir. Your wordss true. The people will help you forward, Silence. They have helped thiss one."

Sjarch finally nods his head and slowly rises to his feet. He draws a long breath, and his spines shudder, before he turns to look up towards the bones and the sky again. He slowly releases his breath, and then says, "This one belives this is why he felt the call. To return to the sith-makar." he says then. "We are stronger together." he says then.

Geir may have not noticed, or ignored, the attack on his tail, the weight of the crimson Kobold does get his attention. He snorts then, and chuckles, the sound coming deep in his throat. "This one is many years old.", he says with good humour, his eyes looking upwards at Little Fang, "Be gentle, for this one is frail." This doesn't prevent him from standing, though, and he gestures to Mictlan at large. "And now you can see everything!" A hand is positioned so that the Kobold can be caught should she decide to let go.

"This one hopes that healing can come. Her innocence is very helpful, is it not? This one things she could melt anyone's heart."

The copper-scale looks to Sjach and nods. "You are welcome here. This one will find a tent for you, if you desire one."

Little Fang holds on. She's light and stable and has spent a lot of time on Cryosanthia's shoulders. Her tail wags wildly from side to side, and that might drag her off, but she is happily looking around, mouth wide open, seeing all of Mictlan.

"She is my treasure," Cryo says, her voice warbling with emotion, "She overcomes, with amazing resilience."

The whitescale places her hand on Sjach's shoulder, a firm grip, and cool. She stares at him, eyes locked, "You are welcome here. Welcome back from the wilderness. The people will help. This one means it."

Sjach's hand comes up to cluch the forearm of the one that grips his shoulder, his amber eyes meeting hers. He draws another breath, and then dips his head briefly, "This one is grateful." he says. On the topic of a tent, he glances to Geir, finally, "It is appreciated, but it is not necessary. The season is different here, the stars are different from where they should be. This one would gaze on them, at least for a few nights more." he says then.

The copper-scale chuckles, and reaches up to fondly rub the Kobold's back. "Are you enjoying being one of the tallest people ever?", he wonders of her, before glancing to the other two. "This is a good place to look up at the stars from. Please enjoy your time here. In a pinch, you may join this one in his own tent. It has room for several."

"Yesss!" Little Fang hisses, making a few happy whistling noises as well as she squirms under the petting. She's a wriggly little thing, but there's a moment where her eyes line up with Sjach's. Wide-eyes and with a big grin she says simply, "Hi," then returns to trying to make Geir turn right.

Cryosanthia makes a brief nod, letting her hand slip free. "One can sleep anywhere. The starss, good guides." She seems relaxed now, her tail swaying slowly, with the normal scents of a female sith mingling with the others in the air. It remains oddly cool near her, but the emptiness is gone. "This one will be about. If you need a guide in the city, thiss one goess frequently. Shaman Geir, alsso. It iss... a sight."

Sjach seems to be, gradually, relaxing too. Though there is still a great deal of turmutulous emotion within him, it's like a tightly wound coil that is beginning to unwind- thankfully before it snapped. His mouth opens, silent for a moment, at the greeting from the little Kobold, but he does eventually manage to gurgle a "Hello" of his own to her. The talk of the center is something to focus on, to recenter himself and he nods slowly. "I have heard... some tales." he says, sounding dubious, "That it dwarfs even the greatest ziggurats, that you could walk from village to village for months in am'shere and see less people than a day in the city." he says then. He sounds incredulous, and perhaps a bit intimidated.

"Woop!", Geir says, suddenly turning to the right. "It is a sight. It could smell better, but there are wonders to be found. And there are probably too many people. So many. But. It is a good place, the people are good, overall."

Cryo, for no reason at all, does a small dance in place where she turns to the right and makes a few punches in the air. She completes a full circle and calms down, though a swaying remains through her hips and out her tail. "Thosse sstoriess are true. Many people! Also! Baths! The widest, clearest river you have seen, and the sea."

Not that the Tornmawr is all that clear, but compared to the mud-filled jungle rivers of Am'shere it's nearly crystal. She laughs, "And it does smell! They say we are smelly lizards but you can walk their streets by nose alone."

"It is full of wonderss, you will ssee."

Sjach's spines stand upright on surprise at the sudden and rather energetic little dance Cryo does. But her entheusiasm is infectious enough that his tail pads one, small thump on the ground behind him. "This one may have to see it... and smell it... for oneself." he hisses, in the end- he still doesn't seem like he entirely believes it. Too far outside of his frame of reference.

Geir gives his head a shake, wiggling Lily lightly. "This one believes... one day at a time."

Lily squeals another time, pulling herself into a full standing position using Geir's horns. Cryo laughs, and steps near, "Come to Ssassa, Lily, we need to eat. We shall see the Silence and his Swiftclaw again. You must free Shaman Geir now."

"Shaman Geir! Ssilence!" The pink kobold repeats, at first hiding from Cryo behind Geir's head. The whitescale doesn't let her get away though, and carefully lifts her free and slides her onto her shoulders.

"One day, yesss. Peace on your Nests."

Geir is thoroughly amused by Lily's antics, though he gives in to Cryo's plea for the Kobold to let go. "Peace on your nest, Cryosanthia. And yours, Little Fang."

Sjach hesitates for a moment, but then dips his head, "Peace on your nest." he says to the two of them then, letting out another slow breath that might be a sigh. "I think... I would like to hunt for a while. I will return." he says to Geir, "Are there customs I should know?" he wonders.

"Peasss!" Lily chirps, in tradespeak.

"This one knows some Hunter-caste, has not spoken with them on the traditionss here. You might find some while hunting." Cryo says, "Good hunting."

The lizards scatter.