Forgotten Answers

The hail of rain and snow has Zeke pausing at the doorway, looking out into the gloom of the evening with an expression that says that he is not looking forward into venturing outside. He wears no cloak to protect himself from the elements either, and this is part of his hesitation. He hefts a sigh. "What isss up kin?" He inquires of no-one in particular and gathers his will to step outside.

Hail of rain and snow, what a terrible set of weather circumstances. Keeping most sheltered inside, frigid and freezing cold, who would even dare to-

"Thiss weather isss great!" a bassy voice happily boasts. Skielstregar can be seen some distance away, icicles forming and breaking away on his form as he moves towards the temple grounds. He's speaking animatedly with his halberd, the weapon offering no retort or agreement upon the silverscale's approval of this disastrous weather report.

Zeke once again hesitates at the door, blinking at Skielstregar as the other male approaches the temple grounds. He waits for him to get close enough and then speaks up mildly to Skielstregar. "Peassce on your nessst." It's a simple, unobtrusive greeting, rote in nature, so Zeke adds to it. "Have you come with purpossse to the temple of the Dragonfather?"

Skielstregar blinks as he sees the bluescale poking out the door, him stumbling a bit on a patch of ice. "A-Ah! Sssshaman Zeke! Peassse on your nessst!" he rumbles warmly. An idle hand brushes off the icicles forming on his jaw. "Y... Yessss. Erm, thisss one wondersss if you are free? They... wisssh to take you up on that offer. If that isss okay?"

The blue-scale hesitates a moment, looks at the sky and then nods. "Thisss one can assissst you yesss. Come in, come in." Zeke motions to Skielstregar to follow him into the temple proper. "Would you like thisss one to find a private ssspasce for usss? Communing with the godss isss often a private, persssonal thing."

Skielstregar waits briefly, talons tapping nervously against his weapon. "Ah, thank you Ssshaman," he says, ducking under the doorframe. Once inside, her takes a moment to run a hand over his arms, head, back and legs, snapping off icicles and tossing them back outside. Wouldn't want to get the sacred temple a mess, now would we?

"Ah... private, if you do not mind." He suddenly perks. "Oh! Thisss one remembered... they brought the thingssss for it! It isss around here..-" Skiel rummages for a bag, and pulls out a- Oh no. His face frosts. "... it should service, no...?"

A box of incense, and the sound of glass belies that most of the holy water is a block of holy ice in his hand.

Zeke nods his acceptance only to pause as Skielstregar brings his attention to the items he brought with him. He can't help the little chuckle that leaves him at the sight of the block of holy ice that is sitting there beside the incense. "It ssshould be fine." He murmurs to the other male, then invites him with a gesture to follow him into the temple further.

They find a private room, and Zeke carefully takes the things from Skielstregar and puts them down in their prescribed locations. "You may wisssh a piece of paper and sssome-thing to write with to take notesss on the anssswersss. Thisss one will not be able to disscusss ssuch with you until you have finissshed conversssing with the one who thisss one contacts." He explains politely to the other male. Finally he pulls out two stools and sets them one across from the other. Sitting slowly on one and inviting Skiel to the other with a wave.

Skielstregar ahs, him rubbing his neck. "Ah. Thisss isss good," he rumbles, following after Zeke to the room. Heavy taloned footfalls clacking, with the intermittent thud of his halberd acting like that of a walking stick.

After handing the materials over, he sets his weapon to lean against the wall, and his small bag to rest on the ground. He pauses, listening to Zeke, then bobs his head as he pulls out a tome, writing materials, and a magnifying glass.

He meanders over to the stool, carefully sits down across the other male, and opens his book. "Thisss one underssstands..." he murmurs, dead eyes looking down at Zeke, looming inadvertently before his tail curls around the stool, it and scent belying nervousness.

Zeke finishes sitting and takes a deep breath, mentally preparing himself for what is to come. He doesn't seem to mind that Skielstregar looms over him somewhat. In fact he seems quite at ease with it, and he sets about now getting ready for the spell. First the incense is lit, then the holy water sprinkled. Though that is somewhat difficult given its icy consistency. Zeke only needs a small amount however. "Dragonfather, grant usss your wisssdom." He intones gently, and tilts his head back somewhat. "Prepare." This warning is to Skiel, that the questions are about to be answered.

GAME: Zeke casts Commune. Caster Level: 16 DC: 20

Skielstregar is busy writing carefully in his tome, large letters written with a large hand seen by a large eye through the magnifying glass to be able to read it easier. Halfway through, Zeke's intonement rattles him to attention. A breath caught in his lungs, he bows his head and wraps a hand around his own holy symbol. It's been... too long. Was he even ready for such a-

"O-Okay," he shakily whispers, downcast eyes looking worriedly at some of the words he had ready.

"Praisssse the Dragonfather and Hisss ssservantsss, in Your light grant thisss one the wisssdom that isss Yoursss." Zeke's gaze goes suddenly distant, his expression falling to empty lines and his scent fading to near nothing. For a moment it's almost as though the sith-makar doesn't exist, and when he speaks again, the voice is not really his own. Rather instead it is a hollow, deep thing that rings through the room like the tolling of a bell. "Begin."

Skielstregar keeps his head bowed, a talon faintly tracing the draconic runes on the pages. Was it even his place to know the answers to these things? Or would the answers leave him- Sniff. Where did Zeke go?

His head rises up to investigate. Blink. His deathly slow heart picks up its pace, the bated breath that had been held for so long finally exhales in a plume of frozen air. "T-T-Thisss... one, um, hello. Are you wel- no no, that isss not how thisss works..."

He buries his face into his hands. Takes another breath. Forces himself to sit upright. "D-Dragonfather. Thisss one t-thanksss you for allowing Ssshaman Zeke to conduit speaking to thisss wretched one. T-Thisss one mussst ask, before all else, d... do you ssstill watch thisss one? I-Iss thiss o- am I doing well in your name?"

"Yes." A moment of silence, and then as if the being that has taken over Zeke's voice takes the question that comes second as one separate from the first, a second affirmative comes. "Yes."

Skielstregar mourns, "... yes, they are sorry they coul-" Wait wait wait, you shiny goof ball. He said yes! To both! He perks up, nervousness being shed slightly to some excitement. Calm down! Look at the words!

His throat bobs. "T-Thank you ssso much, your Brilliance. U-Um. Thisss... thisss one isss beyond sssorry for what they have done. T-They caved in their... their darkesst of time, and.. partook of kin numerous timesss. Isss... isss such a thing forgivable?"

A long pause. He really hope Zeke wasn't listening right now. "... and will the cravings for it ever stop?"

It's impossible to tell if Zeke can hear or not. Certainly he doesn't react to the question. "Yes." is the first answer, but the second comes a simple denial. "No."

A veritable weight seems to lift off Skiel as his first question is answered in the positive. He figured he would have been, but its still nice to hear. His eyes half lid at the other answer. "... I figured..." he intones.

Filled with a newer sense of purpose, he finally looks at the blank faced bluescale. "This one ssstill doesss not know how he ssstill livesss. Thisss one ssshould have died and stayed dead as a monsssster. Yet. They ssstill live. Dragonfather, did you have sssomething to do with that? Or wasss it the Deathsssinger?"

A breath. "... sssince you sssaid that, isss thisss one... stuck like thisss?" He gestures to himself, the fangs, his eyes. And the general state of half-dead.

"Yes. Yes." Contrary answers though those might be, they come in reply to Skielstregar's questions nonetheless. The next answer is a bit more complicated however. "It depends on you."

Skielstregar blinks. They were involved in that? It matters not the method, but he bows his head reverently, hands clasped together tight around his holy symbol as little frozen rivulets start to appear betwixt scales under his eyes. "... t-thisss one forgot ssso much during that time... and yet you and the Deathssinger gave thisss one a sssecond chance. They will not sssquander it," he affirms to himself, his emotions and scent a mess of a maelstrom of things.

He keeps his head bowed. "Yesss, your Brilliance. I-It does."

He takes another breath, steeling himself once more. "Thisss one... feelsss asss if we are ending near time. Umm... what elssse..."

Malefic, his halberd, slides off the wall and clatters to the ground. Skiel jumps, glances back, then turns back. "A-Ah. Um. Malefic isss... thiss one's weapon. They ssseem like they have a lot to sssay, but they cannot speak. Um. Isss... isss it your servant asss well?"

He ponders. Starting at the page. "And thisss one's final question. Do you think Ssshaman Zeke needsss to take a break?" He smiles.

"It was." The answer is incongruous and not very informative. And yet, it is very much so. Strange how an answer can be both. The second answer comes after a moment of hesitation. "Zeke is needed." Is the reply, another answer that is more interesting perhaps than the question itself intended.

With Skeilstregar's questions answered, Zeke's eyes resolve, the sith returning to himself, scent and all. He lets out a harsh breath, as if acting as a conduit had taken something out of him, and then he looks at Skeilstregar, his scent a complicated thing. A mixture of sorrow, and acceptance. "Thisss one hass heard your anssswersss. Thisss one will speak of none of them to any-one. We do not need to ssshare wordsss if you do not wissh to. Though, if you do... Thisss one isss alwaysss here."

It was. Skiel sharply turns towards Malefic, his eyes wide. The weapon rests on the ground, runes glimmering softly in the dim light. "... Malefic..." he whispers softly, seeing it a new light. But he looks back to the conduit serving Zeke. His brows furrow, but a slow nod belies, "... thiss one understands. Thank you..."

Ah, Zeke is back! Hopefully he didn't hear any of- "... ah." He awkwardly shifts on the stool, looking away. His scents too are a mess. A lot of relief, a dose of sadness, a dash of awkward. "We... we can ssshare wordsss... if you wisssh. Perhapsss it may be bessst to. But thisss one appreciatesss the privacy of it."

There's a beat, and all the writing utensils, the tome, and the magnifying glass clatter to the floor as he buries his face in his hands. A long, languid breath escapes him. A deep seated, cobweb ridden bed of guilt and worry being exhaled. "... thank you..." he finally intones. "Thank you so much, Ssshaman Zeke..."

"May thisss one touch you?" Zeke's voice comes to the male who can not see him with his hands burried in his claws. Zeke reaches out, offers his crystal claw even as he speaks. "You are not alone Sskeilsstregar."

The words that come next do not come easily to him. "Thisss one knowsss the pain of being tempted with flesssh. Thisss one dreamss of it ssstill. Dreamsss of the ssmell. Of becoming Forgotten." He struggles for control, but he can not help the small scent of despair - remembered despair that comes to him.

The request gets Skiel to pull himself up, him spying the crystal claw. Remembering last time, he reaches out, gently grasping onto Zeke's forearm in a clasp. Too-long talons clack against themselves. Of course he wasn't alone, Zeke was here!

He blinks. Eyes widening. "Oh." He wasn't expecting that. That's what he meant by not being alone. "... thisss one iss... happy you confide in thisss one about sssomething ssso... difficult," he murmurs. "... it isss hard, iss it not? They are glad someone else underssstands." He takes a breath, notes the despair. A faint flicker, however slight, crops up of a familiar rankness of that Forgotten smell. Like prey having been found. But just as quick as it comes, it's forcibly squashed away to be replaced with somberness. "Thiss one apologizes, fear iss... a thing thisss one craves. They know that feeling of that time, and they are sssorry you went through it."

Zeke takes a breath, involuntarily wrinkling his snout slightly at the scent of Forgotten that rises from Skielstregar. It's no comment on the other male, but is indicative of his own struggles from the past. He grasps the other man gently, his eyes nictating. "You have found your way back to life and light Ssskeilsstregar. Perhapsss you will alwaysss be touched by thisss hunger, but it isss a memory and a tesst from the Dragonfather. Thisss one sseesss it ass ssuch. If ever you have need, thisss one iss here; thiss one underssstandsss ass few otherss of the People will."

Skiel grimaces at the reaction, him rubbing his own snout. "Yesss. It isss... perhapsss a thing that thisss one will have to deal with for the ressst of thiss one's life. But if it isss a test, then thisss one will do everything they can to make sssure they passs it."

His tail sways behind him, his grip on Zeke's forearm giving a faint squeeze as a joyful scent starts to surmount the others. "It... it makessss thisss one very happy to ssstill be in Hisss favor. And... and thisss one will more than likely take you up on sssuch an offer. And the sssame offer extendsss to you."

He scratches his neck. "Erm. Thisss one will warn you, Ssshaman Zeke. That the Forgotten sstill hasn't left. Sso... if you wissh to ask questionsss, thisss one can relay."

The blue-scale shifts his own tail, pleasure at being able to help Skeilstregar filling the room up as well. "Thisss one will keep that in mind. Thiss one feelsss that we will ssshare wordsss again ssoon. For now however... Thisss one hasss to return to kin." Zeke gives Skeil's arm a squeeze in return. "He would never ssay sssuch, but thisss thinkss that he may be in trouble. Thisss one'sss insstinctsss on ssuch are rarely wrong.

Skielstregar rises, pulling his hand away. "Very well. Again, thisss one appreciates you, your time, and your effort greatly. They feel.. much, much better about, well, everything."

He bows his head. "Of courssse. Pleassse, return to kin. Thisss one offersss their hopess that the trouble they face isss one that can be overcome. Let thisss one know if you need anything. They are very good at lifting!" he grins, joyous. "But they will not keep you. Peassse on your nessst, Ssshaman Zeke, and may Hisss warmth guide you."

He reaches for Malefic on the wall. It's there. Not on the floor anymore. Skiel is unfazed.

-End