Wood and Sandwiches

Log Info

• Title: Wood and Sandwiches
• Emitter: Geir
• Characters: Geir, Cryosanthia
• Place: W02: Mictlan
• Time: Sunday, March 22, 2020, 3:05 PM
• Summary: Cryosanthia is wandering Mictlan, trying to be useful. Geir is chopping wood and suggests she take over doing that. She does, and the two discuss the things that have been on her mind lately, which are Kobolds, Ancestors, and her magic not working quite right. Geir advises she have some patience, and to keep chopping the wood.

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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.

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-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-  Appearing, in Order  -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Cryosanthia  6'7"     245 Lb     Sith-Makar        Female    A dashingly tall, lithe white lizardgirl with tattoos.
Geir         5'8"     200 Lb     Sith-Makar        Male      A short, copper-scaled Sith-makar.
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It's a nice day, with a light breeze and pleasant clouds, the air is clear and dry and the sun bright. The Shaman's spells keep Mictlan warm and make the area pleasant.

Cryosanthia is wandering around, looking for something useful to do. There's no Speaker training today, and the cooks seem to have the food handled.

A repetitive sound can be heard almost throughout the entirety of Mictlan. Sometimes it is drowned out by the sounds of the Sith, or their animals, but the steady thwack is noticeable. Shirtless, Geir is at work, wielding an axe and vanquishing... logs. A growing pile of neatly chopped logs replaces the roughly hewn one. Fuel for the numerous campfires and the central fire itself. With the bright sunlight, the coppery-scale's form can be spotted from a distance away.

Cryo follows the thumping. As she draws near she calls out, "a few cymbals would go really well with that. Peace on your nest, Shaman Geir. Defeating wood?"

Her tail coils mischieviously from side to side as she looks around, "I don't suppose there is another axe?"

Geir pauses, about ready to bring the axe down upon another log, and he carefully turns the axe about in his hands, offering it to the icy-scale handle-first. "One knowss not. However, we can sshare, yess?" A short distance away is set a small bag, something Geir will look into once Cryosanthia has the axe. "One can take a sshort break, drink water and eat a ssandwich. How do you fare?"

Cryo takes the axe, adjusts it in her hands, waits for Geir to step clear before she raises it overhead and swings. The axe chunks into the log, sticking on the edge. She has to put her foot on it to wiggle it out. It's clear she's not used to this sort of work, or swinging heavy weapons. Her tail is hardly getting into it.

"This one is fine. Tired, from walking, many trips to Redridge, around Alexandria, to Alexandria and back to Mictlan, and Merkabah. Some softskin friends are having trouble in Merkabah, another with her love life. One of them struggles with that strange transformation. The things that worry me, I've been too busy to think of."

Sandwich in hand, the coppery one will help hold the log so that the axe can be reclaimed, and then he will set it straight again, waiting to be chopped. "One finds that if one usess their tail, as if hopping down from a chair or modesst sized rock, one can usse their fullesst strength without toppling over. It is jusst practice, one finds."

Geir chuckles and nods. "Ssometimes the common worriess crowd out the more uncommon oness. This is ssometimes a happy occassion. Sometimess not."

"Oh, ah? Up and down? Hmmm." Cryo experiments in the air first, attempting the jumping down motion and moving the axe. It takes a couple attempts, then it clicks, "Oh I see! The momentum and the counterbalance!"

She swings. THUNK!

A much better chop. The log isn't split, but she got halfway through it. "I don't know how to fix the bigger things, so I suppose it is just as well. What do I do now? Hit it again, or leave the axe head in and bang it until it splits?"

"Sometimess one can gain a semblance of control over their livess by sstarting with the smaller things. One might say not to ssweat the small thingss, as the ssoftskins say. But there is merit to doing sso, one finds." Geir chuckles and rolls his shoulders. "One could pull the axe free and hit it again. Or do as you have said, and bang it a little. Give the axe a little twisst to ssee if the log would split further."

"Ha! A third unconsidered option!" Cryosanthia grins, and gives the axe a wrench. The log is split with a crack. Held from completely separating by two small slivers, but easy enough for her to rip them apart and drop them on the split pile. "I'll have to remember that."

She balances another log in place, and lines up, working through the stroke once with her tail. She finally swings the axe upwards and brings it down, the edge hits nicely in the centre of the log and splits it all the way down. "Perhaps I shall chop wood then, so much easier than puzzling why my magic isn't working, or if there is a solution for Kobolds."

Geir's eyes open a bit more widely, and he finishes off the bite of sandwich quickly before speaking. "One should not ssimply drop ssuch a problem sso cassually. Your magics have sstopped working?"

The copper-scale clears his throat, looks at his sandwich a moment, before continuing. "Chopping wood, or other ssimple actss of labour can aid in clearing one'ss mind."

He raises an brow ridge slightly. "There really are no ssolutionss. One can only hope to introduce reasson and calm while dealing with koboldss. Offer them thingss in trade for peace or a certain coursse of action. One can also try to be imposing, scare them into acquiesscencse."

Cryo stops after the chop, and shakes her head, "This one mis-spoke. My magic isn't improving, despite practice, it still functions as it did. I'm told the lack of improvement is unusual."

"With the kobolds, that is good advice. I have had some success scaring them." She grins a little, "I meant in a larger sense, as I don't know where to find them and am only likely to on some Explorer's Guild mission to destroy their nests. This I don't wish to accept. Yet even refusing the job, someone will go after them. So even if I found them on my own, convincing them not to attack caravans, seems unlikely. Yet, the goblins are so alike them and accepted, to a degree, a civilization of them should not be impossible?"

The copper-scale gently brushes aside the chopped pieces, and sets up another log to be hewn. "The People are a relatively long lived race. The ssolution to both ... problems will pressent itself in time, one is certain."

"The Arvek, Oruch and Goblin racess have all become more civilized. As to what sstresses caused such, one knowns not. At some point, the koboldss will come around. Or they will not. They will ssurvive as will the other races."

Geir takes another bite of his sandwich, and then moves to retrieve a waterskin from the small bag. "As to your perssonal progression... a ssolution will pressent itself in time, one only needss patience."

Cryo lines up on another log, swings, and splits it easily this time. She stands the half, and quarters it, then does the same with the other half, putting those on the chopped pile. "This one can wait. It is during the waiting the worry I've forgotten something comes. That an act or understanding would have assisted."

She sets up another log. A good solid hit, although off centered, "I will hope a solution for the kobolds presents itself too. With my magic, is there not a.. there's... it did not occur and express itself normally."

"One has water and food when you are ready for such.", Geir says softly.

He watches her silently for a time, as she starts to cleanly split the logs into smaller, more manageable firewood. Once his sandwich is eaten, and the flask of water sipped at, the copper-scale begins to stack up the firewood, as well, he moves more logs within her easy reach.

"If you are concerned about having forgotten something that might assisssted one, it meanss you have a consscience."

Cryo places both her hands on the butt end of the axe and rests her chin on them. She smiles, "Thanks. A least I have grown in a way my ancestor might not understand. The water and food sounds nice, this one is not sure she has earned it, only four logs?"

She holds the axe out to him, ready to take the water flask, or search in the basket for it. "This one is curious, the dragon in your blood, that ancestor is known to you, has spoken with you? I have been curious that ancestors might since I saw the softskin's talking sword."

Geir offers the waterskin first, and a small, paper wrapped sandwich second, while setting the axe aside for the meantime. "It is more likely it is growth in a way the ancesstor did not expect, or did not want. But, once doess not need to heed the ancesstors at all timess. One is free to make a decission, and not follow their direction or advice. As much as it painss them, and rubss some of the People the wrong way."

His expression is quizzical when he responds to her question about his ancestors. "One has likely been in contact with one'ss ancesstors, however they have not made themselvess known to one."

"This one wonders sometimes if they live long enough, that while what is in the blood is a memory, they might still be out there to speak with." Cryosanthia says, unwrapping the sandwich and taking a bite, "Oh this is wonderful!"

"This one thought shamans, would have a closer touch, more frequent touch." She takes another bite.

"It is meat from wild fowl, with butter, ssome sspread made from a ground up vegetable, and cheesse. One findss it a nice layering of flavourss and texturess." Geir chuckles and shakes his head.

"Ssurely you have sseen. The sshamans know much, but not all. It is a goal, of coursse, but not one yet achieved." The copper-scale winks, and taps the side of his snout.

Cryosanthia laughs, raising her head back, "Ha! You are much the elder! 'Patience, youngling, patience, you'll understand in time'. This one things she should attend your story time, to question you then instead of all hours. I will finish this very delicious sandwhich, and drink, then help with the logs."

She grins, taking another bite. Watching... patiently.