Height Clearance

Log Info

• Title: Height Clearance
• Emitter: Skielstregar
• Characters: Skielstregar, Schara
• Place: Lower Trades
• Time: December 5th, 2022
• Summary: Schara runs into Skielstregar, the latter having gotten a number of glass figurines for their collection. Some misconceptions of physicality and culture are cleared up, as well as some aspects about Skiel's strange weapon.

Lower Trades, Noon.

Chilly. Cold. Grey. Misty. Terrible weather for most. Somewhat good for the laborers in the Trades district, as the chill helps cool off the heat of forges.

"Thisss one lovesss daysss like thisss...!" an absolutely massive and shiny silver scaled makari whispers loudly to himself.

Himself? He's got a halberd in hand, the metal of it a shining hue with arcane runes that run along it in a glimmer. They're talking with it? He must have gone mad. Mist from the air has cast him in a light layer of frost.

In his other hand, he has a small burlap bag that lightly clinks and clanks with every sway.

Skielstregar was not the only person clanking around with a large sack of something or other. Out from one of the many winding entrance to goblintown came a figure covered in bronze armor, with a bag slung over their right shoulder as they walked along.

At least until they saw something strange that stopped them in their tracks. "Is that a troglodyte? No, no crests, and they don't reek of something or other. Though perhaps they just clean regularly to keep it at bay? That would explain the shinyness. Their teeth seem to imply some form of carnivorous diet, curious." They ramble to themselves, taking a moment to readjust as they tilted to their right side from the weight. "You could always ask, of course, but it's probably better to let them go about their day and see if you can find out anything later."

The towering lizardfolk is still talking. "And we got such a nice ssssupply of thingssss to decorate with. Vaermiir isss going to like the glasss figurine thisss one found...!" he loudly whispers to the halberd.

The weapon shifts slightly. The reflective flat spins a few degrees until a brimming bright eye from the silverscale can see the bronze clad figure.

He stops, standing upright, looming over the light foot traffic to peer towards the bronze figure. He clears his throat. "Ahem. Thisss one can hear you. Thisss one isss not a troglodyte, desssspite being vaguely related," he intones a bit flatly, dead eyes looking the figure up and down from the few paces away.

"Ah, despite having no visible ears, they are capable of hearing. No external structure, auditory canal is hidden somehow? Perhaps, wait-" The artificer continues musing until they realize what they were saying. The artificer stops and looks up, and nods. "Yes, of course you can hear me, because I was thinking out loud when it would be polite not to do such. That is good that you are not a troglodyte at least. You are just unusually large, and lizard like?" They respond, trying to keep an eye on the weapon.

The weapon... It's shiny. The runes glimmering across the blade give off a deep, unsettling feeling that whatever it is capable of has a purpose to be feared.

And yet, the weapon is turned so the blade faces away. He lifts the bag up, a half curled knuckle pointing to a hole in the side of his head that's almost nearly covered by shiny silver scales. "Thisss one hasss earsss," he rumbles. "... unusually?"

A scoff leaves him, a gout of frozen air blasting out from his nose and lingering from the mist in the air. "No. While thisss one isss rather tall for their kind, they are jussst a head taller than mossst of their makari kin."

"Yes, it would make sense for you to have ears if you are responding to me, especially given that my musings were while you were turned away from me, and incapable of reading lips. Should you be walking around with that polearm? It is more than a bit scar." The artificer nods again, looking away from the weapon, and back to Skielstregar. Or seeming to, it was hard to tell behind the lenses of the helmet.

"Yes, you are much taller than everyone else around here, whether you are abnormally sized for your own kind is, or was unknown to me. Makari though, that would make sense! You are related to the sith-makari then, like the troglodytes? That would explain the resemblances."

The massive makari slowly blinks. One eye first. Then the other. The tip of the intimidating weapon leans over to clank the spear against the side of his head as he scratches his scales with it. "Uh... y.. yesss..." he shifts on his feet, uncertain, the medal of valor softly clanking on his armor. But, he perks up. "Huh? Yesss. Thisss one ssshould. It isss better when walking in the city to hold it than keep it on thisss one'sss back. Ssssafer that way."

Dead eyes squint some. "... makari are tall. Like gobbersss are sssmall," he tries to explain, looking down at the bronze clad person.

The squint gets tighter. "No. Thisss one isss Skielssstregar, Warrior-Cassste. Chiuaa of Vaera. Proud sith-makari defender of Mictlan and cleansssing blade of the Dragonfather," he rumbles, a tinge of a growl seeping in. "They are not related to sith-makari. They are not a troglodyte-kin. They are sith-makari, as dragon blood runs in thisss one's veinsss."

"I suppose I can't fault you for wandering the streets with a weapon given what I am wearing, that is true. It is just unsettling, and it felt like it was not moving naturally. Regardless, it is still just a weapon, and not a threat unless someone where to trip and cut themselves, which would require being even taller or as close to as tall as you, which is likely a rarity." The artificer observes with another nod.

"Well, it is good to meet you mister or, that's presumptuous. It is good to meet you, Skielstregar."

"But, you said you were not that much taller. I aready met a tall sith makari, and they were no where near your height." Schara huffs. "And I don't know how a person is a blade, who Mictlan is or what a si who a is. Being a dragon sounds interesting, though!"

"Malefic doesss what they will," Skiel rumbles, casting a side glance at the halberd. "They harbor sssome... thingsss that thisss one doess not know about."

The weapon is held upright. Menacingly.

"... ssstop that."

The weapon turns away ever so slightly.

He sighs, rubbing his face. "Never the lesss. Thiss one iss male. But they care not how you addresss them."

He tilts his head to the side. "You have? Thisss one hasss met many that are nearly asss tall asss thisss one. But they know of some makari that are very short."

The man blinks dumbly. "... Daeus. Sunblades. Mictlan is a place full of makari to the north. And Chiuaa. Life mate."

"But malefic is a glaive. Or they are not, or not entirely? Are they one of those sentient beings living inside a magically enchanted artifact that I read about? Fascinating, and it even seems capable of movement on it's own, I knew that it made no sense to turn the way it did normally!" The artificer enthuses. "Do you need to figure out what it does more? If you can understand what I'm saying, nice to meet you, Malefic! Just because you can do bad doesn't mean you have to."

"Ah, that is fair. I know that presence or lack thereof of ribbons doesn't mean too much, so I did not want to presume, mister Skielstregar. Though I would like to know right now if you're lying to me." The add, fixing the makari with a stare. "Because either you're telling me that all makari are your size, despite me being told otherwise, or someone else is lying about it. He could have been hiding the fact that he was a kobold or something too, which is not a possibility that I should rule out."

"No, Maelfic is a halberd," Skiel corrects. "Thisss one isss not sure if they are sentient, but they act oddly. But bessst treat it well jussst in case," he murmurs, not entirely sure the reason for the enthusement. "Though there isss more to it than thisss one isss aware."

The weapon makes no notion of being addressed. The runes just continue to glimmer.

A sigh leaves him. "That iss why they are named Malefic. Potential for great danger, but knowsss to restrain themssselves."

"... ribbonsss?" He tilts his head to the side.

Then busts out laughing in a low rumble. "Aelwyn. No, no. Aelwyn isss short. But that isss okay. Mossst are thissss tall-" he lowers the glaive until it is about shoulder height. "But he isss not a kobold. Koboldsss are thiss tall-" The glaive end rests just above his knee. About two and a half feet tall.

"Oh, but they're clearly reacting to something or other, in some way. Fine then, keep your secrets, Malefic." Schara notes.

"Yes, ribbons. I meet what I assume is a sith makari, and they're wearing a lot of ribbons, and they're a man, but I also meet an egalrin who is wearing an equally large amount of ribbons, if not more, and they're a woman. And I realize I am woefully lacking in understanding about dress customs for too many races, even if that is not a surprise with how little I know about most fashionable choices." They huff again. "Why did Aelwyn lie about that then? Is he insecure about his height? Was he trying to make himself seem more important, due to feeling that it would make him more impressive to be abnormally large, and therefore make me more willing to work with him by creating fire? He did not ask me if that's the case, as I would have told him it is of no consequence."

Skielstregar chuckles, a low rumbling sound in his chest as he shifts the bag of clanking to the weapon holding hand. "They have many sssecretsss... and they will wait until they are ready to tell thisss one them."

He shakes his head, in a better mood now. "They are a sssith-makari. It isss hard for sssoftssskinss to figure out which isss which for usss," he rumbles. "It isss amusing."

He shrugs. "Dragoon Aelwyn holdsss much pride. Thisss one doess not know, but hisss appearance isss important to him," the incredibly shiny makari suggests.

"Well, hopefully they don't keep you waiting too long. It would not be good to learn to rely on a potentially sentient weapon, only to find that your goals do not align. That would be unpleasant, so I would hope they would realize that, too." The artificer notes.

"My skin is soft, but that is besides the point, and you have no way of knowing that."

"Well, people usually wear ribbons because they want to feel pretty, that would make sense." They nod. "Perhaps he simply needs to feel more confident in his appearance, and he won't feel like he needs to lie about his height? But I can't offer any fashion advice to him."

"This is a lot to think about, and I'm not nearly awake enough to be considering all these possibilities." They continue abruptly, readjusting the sack on their back with a movement that showed the lack of a left arm underneath the cloak. "I need to go get these parts back to the workshop so I can run some tests, I am sorry for needing to leave abruptly and for being insensitive about other races and cultures. I hope you have a nice day with your glass figurines mister Skielstregar!"

Skielstregar glances to Malefic. Staring at his reflection for a moment. "... thisss one hass much time to wait for them. But, they have proven to help thisss one many times. Such work would not be done if we were at oddsss."

He chuffs. "Everyone that isss not scaled isss softskin. You do not have tail or hornsss. Mossst sssoftksinss use that magic armor thing."

The makari grunts. "Or they want to wear ribbonsss because they like them? Thisss one doesss not know. Aelwyn isss hard to get ssstraight answersss out of."

The movement of sack makes him glance over, a small bob in his head. "... you are fine. The only way to know isss learning. Peace on your nessst." Eyes flick down to the cloak. Tilts his head to the side. Then nods slowly to himself.

But then, a tinge of frost dusts on his face. "A-Ah. Yesss. Erm. Thisss one will enjoy them. Thank you. Ssstay safe!"

With that, he ambles off with long strides, idle glances taken towards his weapon.

-End Scene-