Temple District Talk

Somewhere, above the gray, rain-filled clouds there's a sky. It's not visible today though. Just gray. Few people bother to look up however, particularly with the light rain falling from the heavens. It's a rather dismal day in fact, and there's one man at least who's not particularly enjoying it. He stands in an alcove watching the people go by. Leaning against the wall and just... observing. His black hair has grown long from some kind of military cut, and obscures some of his face. But not his irritated purple eyes.

There's a minor commotion from the temple of Althea, as the doors open to allow two adventurer-looking types, a man and a woman, come out. A third man is supported between them, staggering as if he hasn't quite got control of his legs. A coach is pulled up outside the temple, the horses stamping a bit in the drizzle.

As the trio start to make their way out, a tall, gangling war golem follows them, helpfully holding a parasol over the trio's head to keep the rain off. Patiently, the bird-faced construct follows their halting steps, until they reach the coach. Between the two humans and the golem, they load their stumbling, disoriented friend into the conveyance.

"He will recover," the golem responds to the unasked (or unheard) question from one of them. "But it is not given to all to return from the Harpist's Halls. He will need to be tended to." Once the coach rolls off, the golem looks at the parasol in its hand as if puzzled by it, and then closes it adroitly.

Many things are less conspicuous in the dim rain; some things are not so much so. The large white lumbering lupine is more in the latter group as she moves unhurried along the roadway from the north. Most of her fur is damp from rain that did not shed, though her shoulders are presumably dry. This is due to the collection of ebon and green scales, care of a Makari youngling, sprawled across, claws clutching to keep hold. Even while it appears asleep or otherwise unconscious.

The dark-haired man notices the white wolf almost immediately. Without thinking his hand goes to the massive blade strung across his back but... There's a sith-makar child across the wolf's shoulders and that more than anything else makes him still his reach. Lowering his hand he moves forward, looking toward the youngling and then the canine. "Ah.." The armored man realizes belatedly that the canine might not understand him so he holds his hands out a bit cautiously toward the massive wolf. "Here boy... What 'cha got there?"

Once the trio has departed, Khepri is still looking around a bit, as if hoping for someone to take the parasol. It catches sight of the wolf, and pauses, staring at it pointedly. Cautiously, the war golem starts to advance on the large wolf as well, perceiving the makari youngling draped over its back.

It tilts its head quizzically, especially as Aragos approaches the wolf as well, and the golem remarks, "That does not look like a normal wolf rider. Or for that matter, a normal wolf."

Dire Wolf's eyes shift from the few passersby (who may be giving the lupine looks; certainly the passing horses appear nervous) to the armed and armored man as hand shifts to weapon. The gaze remains even after he calms his reaction, though adjusts slight to also include the walking artifice. A light snort is loosed before she growls; a deep rumbling though not overpowering in volume.

"My youngling," she answers the question, "who should remain asleep." The second portion gains further edge, as if it were a directive, not a suggestion.

The temple district of Alexandria was not a place that Eztli expected to find herself wandering, but they even had more than the usual smattering of denominations of god worship, even a few dedicated to those such as Eluna. Eztli was exiting said temple, stopping to pull out her artifice umbrella and pull it over her head, which obscured her much from afar.

Then the small makari froze as a large wolf was out in the streets, with what was clearly a young makari on it's back.

It was a stupid idea, but it seemed distracted by two people in front of it, which gave her a chance to sneak up on them. Which did seem to work okay, until the dire wolf was growling threateningly. "O-oh, um, my deepest and sincerest apologies, miss wolf, or I am assuming madam druid." They offer, dropping the umbrella to bow from behind them. "And sorry for using you both as a distraction."

GAME: Eztli rolls stealth: (20)+3: 23

When the wolf - speaks - the dark haired man startles slightly. Sure this is a place of unusual goings-on, but still. A wolf the size of a horse talking is... unusual. And unsettling given the rumors flying about of late. The man eyes the Makari youngling and then...

His sword is for a second time nearly cleared from its sheathe as a personage appears to his side. Another sith-makar and judging by their size one that's not yet fully grown. He breathes out and lowers his hand a second time. "You should learn better not to sneak up on folks." He grumbles - quietly. At least the Makari makes a valid point, and he nods properly to the massive white wolf. "Pardon my warriness ma'am. There've been unusual sorts about of late. Do you need a hand with your... youngling?" All said in undertone.

Khepri simply stares blankly back at the wolf, even when it talks. "I presume you are not a lycanthrope. Lycanthropes are not allowed in Alexandria. They are disruptive and smell bad. Or so I am told." At least it has the common courtesy to cast its voice lower so as not to wake the youngling.

"Why are you transporting this youngling..." It pauses as Eztli enters the conversation, and the golem looks at her quizzically, before continuing, "... in this manner?"

Dire Wolf's eyes narrow at the weapon near-draw and hackles start to rise. She pauses, though, with the mention of lycanthropes. That could, possibly, explain some ... trepidation. "I am Shaman, yes," she affirms to the other makari. The next exhale is not a snort, but rather a ...sigh? Her form then ripples and alters, reducing in size while her posture shifts to upright and fur recedes to scales.

The ebon-scale still bears her burden, albeit now with legs draped over her shoulder. One set of small toe-claws reflexively clutch at the shaman's horns while others flail dangerously near her snout. One hand is tucked behind her to ensure the dozing child does not drop upon her own head.

"I did so as she grows quick enough to threaten to burst her scales. She weighs three times as much when asleep."

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

Eztli bows again until the rain made her quickly flip the umbrella back above her head. The small makari looks a bit awkwardly around, and then the dire wolf shifted back into another sith-makar. She blinks, then nods, and steps away, tripping a bit over her tail and baggy robes with the movement.

"Ah, you _are_ a druid! Or some other form of shapeshifter." They enthuse, before stopping, and sighing, quieting down. "And sorry, I don't want to take them. I was going to see if they needed help, what with the fact that a giant wolf was wandering around with a kid. It seemed like the right thing to do, you know? At least in the moment."

"It's a fine reason." Offers Aragos to Eztli, a soft somewhat torn expression crossing the man's face. "Kids are like that. Do you need any help carrying them to... wherever it is that you're going?"

Khepri's voice is as deadpan as ever. "Ah. Druid. Never mind then." The golem looks Un'eth up and down, as if memorizing the figure, before gesturing to Aragos. "His question is pertinent. How may the temples of Alexandria assist you?"

At least it's trying to be helpful. It just seems hard for it to interact effectively with people.

The doors to the Daeusite temple open, to admit a man in relatively plain clothing, a simple summer-weight shirt and trousers, and low boots. City wear, and not fussy at that. He does have a light cloak over his shoulders, but the hood is down and slung over his shoulder is a large bundle of firewood, tied together with rough rope. On seeing the rain, Dolan pauses, looks up, squinting his flesh eye into the falling rain. "Damn. What's with all the rain?" He jogs down the stairs towards those present, and sets down the bundle so he can pull up the hood of his cloak.

Un'eth's tail sways slowly behind her as her unburdened claws lift, palm up and claws splayed, in an attempt at a softskin placating gesture. Even as her words are first directed to her fellow Makari. "Ssa. I am Shaman Un'eth of the Tyrranik, Warder of Mictlan and Ea." After a pause, she adds to the introduction, to all. "Wearied, as well. Your suspicions were for the protection of this one," her tail taps the dozing upended toddler. -Gently-. "For that I am grateful. The youngling demanded a tour of the city within the walls, at dawn. Her questions only ceased a few minutes past. We will return on our own. After some rest." Presumably for herself, not the one already resting.

"Oh, I'm alright, I've already made it obviouss, but I've never run into thiss Un'eth before." Eztli offers despite it most likely not being directed towards her. "What'ss a Tyrannik if you do not mind me asssking?" The small makari asks.

"It'ss the sseasson for rain, you know." Eztli replies. "Jusst how it iss. Good for all the plantss that need the water to sstart growing."

The sound of footsteps draws Aragos' attention briefly to Dolan. Inexplecibly the dark-haired man ducks his head and looks firmly at Un'eth. Not that he is giving her gruff, but rather he is distinctly focusing his attention on her. "Alls well then. That's good. Sorry to have bothered you." He steps backwards and yet... Her introduction is a clear request for such information on him, and he sighs, scraping his hand through his black locks. "I'm Aragos."

Khepri tilts its head again, studying Un'eth. "There are many things to see in Alexandria. I am not surprised." A pause. "Is this common behavior among younglings? I am unfamiliar with the details of childraising. It was not covered in my instruction."

The golem looks blankly at Aragos's introduction, before some memory prods it, and it lightly taps the holy symbol embedded into its breastplate. "I am Khepri of Vardama."

"To a point," Dolan agrees amiably, flipping his hood up and picking up the bundle of firewood. He slings it back over his shoulder by the rope that holds it together. "But the seeds don't always make it if there's too much water, they just drown, and besides, planting in mud is sheer misery." His is the voice of experience.

He catches sight of Aragos, and the way the man looks pointedly at another, and raises an eyebrow, but doesn't say anything about it, instead preparing to head in a different direction.

Un'eth looks to those introducing themselves, thumping her tail lightly upon the ground after each. "You did not bother, " she assures Aragos. "If you were deemed a threat, we would not be sharing words." It is the construct she addresses next. "If you wish to learn more of children, observe them. Aid them. Egg-tenders and softskin mothers alike would be eager to instruct and empower you." As communal partners, the Sith-makar are well aware of the benefits of babysitters.

The as yet unknown Makari then gets her focus, head tilting to one side in curiosity as if the lupine had not fully left her. "Tyrranik is the name of my clan, those closes to me in blood. Who are you, young one?" The one bearing the bundle of wood is noted from the recent interaction with the makari she questions, but her own focus is on that inquiry.

"Oh, I don't think you bothered her. Other than maybe it being harder to carry a child when you're walking on two feet." The small makari laughs. "The weather iss a bit rainy, yess, but if it is too much all at once, there are ways to stop the sseedss from sspoiling before they may ssprout."

"Oh, like your family name then, that makess ssensse!" She answers, looking between everyone, and huffing. "Oh goodnesss me, I sseem to have left my mannerss back in the temple of Eluna. My name iss Eztli, nice to meet you, though I am not a 'young one' like you are sstating."

Aragos glances at Khepri, shaking his head a little. "You should take... Un'eth up on her offer." He hesitates before saying her name, but manages the pronunciation of it just fine. "Kids are complicated, but they're worth learning to take care of."

Oddly, he sounds the voice of experience and noticing that Dolan is heading off out of the corner of his eye he seems to steady himself and steps toward the other man. "You want... a hand with that?" He motions to the cord of wood.

Khepri tilts its head again, regarding Aragos. "I was not given instruction in this. Will it be useful in performing my duties as an Executor?" Its gaze shifts back to Un'eth. "This seems terribly inefficient. However, if you are willing to explain certain things I will listen."

So of course it starts with, "What is the proper maintenance when dealing with younglings? Do they make as much mess as immature humans, for example?"

"I have it, although the offer is well taken," Dolan flashes his cheeky grin at Aragos for the at-last acknowledgement. "Good exercise." Seeing that the others are talking children, though, he lowers it to rest on top of his boot, the top partially covered by the corner of his cloak resting atop it. "You never know when knowing how to deal with kids might help you get information nobody else knows," he points out. "Kids see more than the adults give them credit for sometimes, and they're not stupid. Plus, they're more likely to tell the truth, especially with young ones."

"That's why I'm not a farmer," Dolan adds, grinning at Eztli. "Other people can worry about that."

Un'eth's tail thumps at Eztli's introduction, as it did with the others. "Peace on your nest, not-young Eztli," she takes the correction easily," and those of all." At Khepri's direct and relevant question, she lets out a brief series of staccato hissess. "They are not so unlike softskin children, except they have claws, can walk very soon after hatching, are far too curious for their own good, and have boundless energy."

The dangling tongue of the sleeping one falls just right to vibrate in a brief snore. "To a point," Un'eth concedes. She then gestures with claws to the two men. "They seem familiar with young ones."

"Oh, yess! Peace on your nesst, Un'eth of the Tyrannik!" Eztli replies, after recognizing the greeting. There's even a moment before she thumps her own tail against the ground. "I don't know much about dealing with young, but she can probably help if she's offering."

"Farming is hard work, yes, but it's necessary work. That sounds dangerous though, you might get children involved in business they shouldn't be, if they don't know not to share information."

Aragos straightens, his purple eyes hooding and he shakes his head. "Not so familiar perhaps." He seems only to tense further at Eztli's words and he moves further away from the group. "I should return to the temple. I'm sure they have work for me." He nods politely to everyone and starts to make his way toward the temple of Vardama.

Khepri simply raises a hand in farewell to Aragos, before turning its attention back to Un'eth. "They are hatched? This implies a certain incubatory period. Are makari mothers required to sit on the eggs for extended periods?" It contemplates that for a moment, before it continues speaking.

"The only times I saw immature humans they were not capable of independent movement until at least a year. This is most complicated."

This time, Dolan levels a _look_ at Eztli. "The kind of people I go after do that without any involvement from me," he replies tartly. "Getting to the truth gets them out of those nasty situations. Thieving rings. Slavery. Cults. Maybe ask me what I do before you go judging me." He hefts the cord of wood back over his shoulder. "I'm going to get out of the rain. Brightest of days." With that, he turns on his heel and carries his burden towards the residential section of the district.

-End