All Continue

Log Info

• Title: All Continue
• Emitter: Skielstregar
• Characters: Skielstregar, Tlanexhuani
• Place: Mictlan
• Time: March 9th, 20023
• Summary: Skielstregar heads into Mictlan to see what's going on as of late, and he gets an update Tlanexhuani. While everything is okay now, what transpired wasn't, and it confirmed some suspicions Skielstregar had as well.

Mictlan, Sunset

Efforts of revitalizing Mictlan are still underway from recent events, the traffic in and out of the home away from home is more than usual due to it. With the sanctification a tinge awry, a light rain peddles through the lands, making great fires sizzle and pop.

Amongst those coming in is that of a silver scaled makari, the head of a cryohydra is still strapped to his shoulder, and his usual halberd sports a fresh looing crack down the center of the axhead. Skielstregar has confusion and worry written on his visage as he starts to head in the direction of the closest kin to get an update.

Prayers and blessings are the tasks of the shamans. Tending to the wounded the duties of healers. Tlanexhuani is neither of these. He does what he can to aid in the rebuilding, however. Currently, the bluescale sits near (but not too near) one of the popping fires with a pile of saplings and whatever greenery could be found in this season nearby. Upon his lap is a framework made from similar that he works to weave: a frame or patch for a mud wall, or possibly for a thatched hut roof.

Heard before seen this time around, with footfalls heavy in the mud, Skielstregar rumbles a brisk greeting in his native Draconic tongue, "Crafter Tlanexhuani, peace on your nest. This one was out of Mictlan and heard news of some earthquake? Do you need help with anything?"

Tlanexhuani looks up from his work. "Ah! Warrior Skielstregar! Peace on your nest!" He then looks to his sticks and around. "This one hass enough ssupplies. Not know if otherss need. Mictlan shook from dark magic. Dark dragon. Is past." A pause. "This one hope."

Skiel starts, "Ah, very well, this one can run back to their camp and get more lumber for others if need b-"

He stops hard, and slowly turns back to Tlanexhuani. "... the... Dark Dragon?" he repeats slowly, uncomfortable. "... what... what do you mean? Was... did the False Dragon wound our land?" And he wasn't here to protect it? Though, that thought doesn't go voiced.

Tlanexhuani looks back down to his work. "Ssa?" He may not be entirely certain. "Servant of that one called evil power here. Ground rumbled when very big black lift head out. Servant stopped. Dragon return to ground. Sleep. Vanish. Shaman renew good magics on the ground."

Skielstregar sets his halberd aside, the weapon standing upright on its own as the Warrior crouches down on his haunches. "There... there was a servant of the False One here?" he utters in disbelief. "This... this one is confused on how sssuch a person could be here. An outsider?"

"Ssa... and not," the bluescale notes as he weaves further greensticks into the piece he works on. "One of The People." Tlanexhuani lifts his snout to look to Skielstregar. "Nonantzine. She..." he pauses to let tongue clasp for and taste words. "She lost her way."

Skielstregar's eyes nictate at that. Tlanexhuani hasn't seen it yet, but there's always something off about the silverscale. The way those eyes seemed so lifeless. Fangs present that shouldn't be there. Even having horns despite being so young.

But there's a glimmer of crimson in his eyes, and the faint scent of death that wafts near her him builds. Talons dig into the dirt, a growl starting in his chest.

But, his halberd, standing tall nearby, unceremoniously falls over. The flat of the blade smacking him on the snout.

Skiel flinches, stymied before he shakes his head and gets himself under control. "... this one is sorry. They did not mean to grow angered," he intones, putting a hand on the weapon appreciatively.

A sigh leaves him, black miasma tinging cold plumes. "Thisss one knew something was wrong with her, but... they didn't realize she was that remiss. What could have caused this?"

Tlanexhuani makes a vague waving gesture with claw. "Was threat to Mictlan. To kin. To nesting grounds. Cause for anger." His tail then makes a light sway, dragging along the ground in a half-roll/half-flop. "This one does not know. Had many questions, was no time to share words. Many seasons passed between her leave village and come here. Only shaman Zeke might know."

Skielstregar ends up planting his rear into the dirt, his halberd cradled in his lap. His features and scent bely remorse. "Sssa... a threat. This one feels bad for Shaman Zeke, having to go through all of that. This one hopes him, and you, can find answers in the coming times. This one hopes the damage to the People wasn't too much?"

Tlanexhuani exhales a long exhale and puts down his work for now. "Some injured. Shaman Zeke, softskin kin poisoned. All healed. This one..." he pauses in thought "Answers not change what was done. Not know why she make choice she did, but she did. Were made. Now she is returned to The Flame. At peace."

Skielstregar bows his head respectfully, more worry coming from him, but it abates as Tlan mentions all are healed. "This one understands, actions are greater than words. This one is glad that she has some peace at last, seeing as how distressed she had been."

He reaches out, putting a hand on the bluescale's shoulder. "Thank you for sharing words with this one. It is hard to admit such realities."

"Sssa." Tlanexhuani picks up his weaving to resume it. "This one sought kin. Found kin. Not all asss this one wished, but found kin. Rebuilding, healing, done or soon will be. All continue."

"All continue, Ea doesn't pause," Skielstregar echoes. "Rebuild and heal. Isn't that what the People do? But we also remember. Perhaps you can find some Lore-Keepers to remember Nonantzine so she stays with us."

Tlanexhuani's tail flicks sharply before swaying lightly. "This one always remember Nona. As egg. Hatchling. Youngling. Fresh-casted. For this one's village, this one is Keeper. This one is all castes."

Skiel offers a warm rumble. "Good. Good. Perhaps-" A sudden thought comes across him. "If you are all castes for your viallage..."

His tail sways. "Perhaps you can teach Shaman Zeke the traditions of your village? And through that, Nonantzine you remember?"

"Ssa. This one now iss last," Tlanexhuani explains. "Shaman Zeke and this one share words. Will share more. Perhaps will learn of old things, as this one learn of new things." A pause before he looses a bemused hiss. "Or old new things? Many things this one knows are old to some, new to others."

Skielstregar rumbles a chuckle along side Tlanexhuani. "Old new and new old. But all things that fit together eventually to become whole," he points out.

He rises with a grunt, Malefic rolling off his lap and into an open palm only to be placed beside him, upright. "That is good. Shaman Zeke, this one feels, has many, many, many words he should share, but is hesitant to do so. And it would do him well to share."

Tlanexhuani decides this may also be a good time to stand. Who knows if his knees will still cooperate after so long? It seems they do, though the do so with audible creaks and a pop or three in complaint (thought the popping could be from the fire?). No shortage of grunts, either. "This one welcomes his words. Any he would share. This one is grateful for your words, alssso, Warrior Skielstregar."

Skiel almost offers a hand to help the azure-scale up, but it seems like he's got it sorted. The compliment gets a happy sway started in his silver tail. "Sssa, you are most welcome!" he enthuses, scooping up his halberd. "This one appreciates your wisdom and words, but they should check on others to see if they have need of this one's strength. Peace on your nest, Crafter Tlanexhuani."

"Ssa. Always need somewhere for strength. Peace on your nest Warrior Skielstregar," Tlanexhuani bids him farewell, adding, "and sharp Malifix."

Skielstregar gives a grin and bows lightly, only to pivot and amble away.

Over his shoulder, the weapon's axehead splits into a jagged maw. And a growling, rumbling voice calls in the distance as it says, "It's Malefic!"

-End Scene-