Outer Tribes

Log Info

• Title: Outer Tribes
• Emitter: Skielstregar
• Characters: Skielstregar, Yaretzi
• Place: Northern Gate
• Time: August 17th 2022
• Summary: The sun is setting, and Skiel almost misses getting some refugees into the gate before curfew. Yaretzi is also getting their paperwork sorted before the two engage in small talk, which turns into getting drinks as they quickly realize they came from the same homelands. Reasons for leaving and exploring the land of civilization are shared, as well as perspectives on scaled and softskin living, as well as fighting styles. There's a lot more to be said, but the night is drawing near, and rest needs to be had.

Northern Gate, Dusk

The sun is setting. And as of late, the gates to Alexandria are much more stringent about letting folks in and out of its walls of safety. Perhaps its a blessing that the line getting in was nonexistent. Though, that reprieve was none long lasted as hoof falls from a night black steed drums down the road. The hoof falls emptily echo, leaving wakes of ink that dissipate behind them in a trail.

The Watch tense up, some stepping out to block the entrance as weapons rise to level on the incoming mare.

An abnormally large, cloaked figure flashes silver as they shift. "Thisss one hass been doing thisss for how long ssso far?" a deep voice chastises, reaching behind them to help a child and their father off the back the eerie, crimson eyed steed. They seem shaken, but give quiet thanks as they scurry off towards the guards for the promised safety.

One guard breaks rank, them stowing their weapon as they approach. The massive figure dismounts with a metallic clank. "You know how it is, big guy."

The figure pulls their hood back, an incredibly shiny silver scaled makari huffing a gout of cold air in annoyance. "Fine. Do asss you will."

GAME: Skielstregar casts Mount. Caster Level: 8 DC: 13

Among the short line is Yaretzi, work taking her beyond the walls and back. The tall woman watches Skielstregar from the spot where she rests, paperwok being discussed without her as she just stands with arms crossed below her breast. Whatever it takes will be done, but the barbarian doesn't seem too keen on participating as they figure out the red tape and access. "Yes, Yar works for Japi." she answers when asked a question directly, but to Skiels' situation she can't help but offer a smile in the silver Makari's direction. "They say this makes safe, but make big deal of nothings too." Yar dares to joke.

"Peace be on nests. Where from, Makari? Any dangers seen?" The woman asks, making idle conversation.

The lumbering makari's paperwork seems to be more of an ocular patdown. The guard looping around and poking at various weapons and scales to make sure that: "Alright! He's good!" they declare, rejoining the line as the tension abates. A dead silver eye glances over to the tall woman. He chuffs. "Yesss. Makesss sssafer, but much inconvenient for mossst people."

The greeting makes him perk up. "Peassse on your nessst," he rumbles happily, giving the hint of a bow along with it. "Thisss one isss from Mictlan. To the north. Half day mounted. Sssaw sssmall undead on the road, but dealt with it ssswiftly."

He looks her over, down, up. Then huffs approvingly. "You look ssstrong. You ssay you do work? What kind?"

Yaretzi is finally given the clear, having been waiting for longer that Skielstregar, but also clearly less well knows. "Strong kind." she muses, taking her paperwork, and looking up to Skielstregar with a tilt of glance. "This one, Yaretzi. Claw of Kor. Work for coin, and help where there is need." her tone jovial as she smirks to the Makari and steps close.

"Good, dispatch those you can. Yar not fight wights, she only face imps and banshee." Yaretzi admits, despite the fact that most wights do not come near the power of a banshee. "Desire there, but no luck." she offers in explanation. "What is Makari doing now? Rest?"

The shiny sith-makar thuds his chest plate twice. "Thisss one isss Ssskielssstregar, Warrior Cassste," he introduces proudly. "Worksss for the People. Pleasssure to meet you Yaretzi."

The air grows colder the closer to one gets to Skielstregar. He chuckles, another rumbling sound in his chest. "Impsss are bad. Banshee worssse. Thiss one hass fought some wightsss. They were..."

He shifts on his taloned feet. "... bad." He shakes his head. "Anywho. Yesss. Ressting before returning to Mictlan. It'sss a long ride from here to there. Yourssself?"

Yaretzi raises a brow at the talk of Mictlan, simply nodding. "Japi hired Yar for fighting, but no fighting needed. Paid to be bored today." she muses, shifting as she motions towards the city. "Come, let's get drink. Talk more of wight and imps within walls. Yar has heard dark tales." she notes, but as the Makari rubs at his chest she can't help but smirk. "What is Mictlan? Makari mention it often, but Yar not from Alexandros. Know little of local life."

Skiel hums, shifting some of his weapon weight around on his back, the eerie halberd swaying in its frog. "Thisss one sssees. At leassst being bored isss predictable," he points out.

The offer makes him blink. "Oh. Uh. Ssssure...?" he agrees, caught off guard. Though he recovers quickly as they get moving past the gates.

He looks behind him. "Voarexautha, resssst now," he calls out to the unblinking, unmoving, unbreathing steed. It turns slightly towards him in acknowledgement, bows its head, then trots off. A second look would reveal that it just simply... vanished.

"Ah. Mictlan isss sssecond home for sith-makar. Deep within woodsss, blessed to be like our home in Amsss'here. Mutual aid with Alexandria and Mictlan isss the norm. Though, mossstly makari tend to the landssss there."

"Like Am'shere?" This catching Yar's attention, sending her to nodding. "Yar misses wilds of home, but City keeps one busy." she admits, her brow raising initially at the Makari's perceived hesitance. "Magic mount? Yar has horse. Good horse. Not magic." the woman muses as she now realized what had been going on with the Makari's mount Voarexautha. "Makari looks strong, magics... surprising." her words spoken in thought.

"Boring is boring. Predictable or no." Yaretzi offers, but her smile grows broad as she regards Skelstregar again. "Good Makari have such place here. City life odd. Too odd some days."

Makari don't smile. And when they do, it's unsettling. Lots of razer sharp teeth. And in Skiel's case, large fangs are coupled with it. But he smiles nonetheless. "Ssshaa... home. Thisss one misssess it too," he rumbles nostalgically. "It isss sssurprising to hear a sssoftssskin come from Am'ssshere."

He glances back, past the gates they went through before Yaretzi lists off more idle observations. "Ah... thisss one can do a little magic." He even offers a raised hand, pinching a small between his forefinger and thumb. "Not a lot. But having a good horssse or ssswiftclaw can never be underessstimated."

He bobs his head. Taloned feet clacking and scraping against the stonework below them. Massive tail lazily swaying behind to keep balance. "Yesss. It isss odd. But there isss much to learn in itsss oddnesss."

"Yar's people call it home. Many generations, but tribe still small." Yaretzi muses, offering a shrug. The toothy smile gets a grin, a Makari manners doing little to put the large woman off. Even if Skiel towers over her, and is armored in scales. "Makari kind to let us stay, friend us. Am'shere is dangerous, but not such as with city and wights." she reasons

"Magics never little, Skielstraegar. Be proud of what one has. Yar too dumb for magics, and natures. She must do what she does well. Fight." Yaretzi muses, pausing. "What does Makari like for food and drink?"

"Am'ssshere dangerousss. Single perssson isss weak. But together, we are ssstrong. There, and even here. It will take all of usss to deal with the problemsss we face in thisss jungle of rock," Skiel rumbles happily, jabbing a finger up as if it would accentuate his point. His halberd glints silver off a passing mana lamp.

He shakes his head. "No, thisss one usssed to be afraid of it. But isss proud of it now. Helpsss thiss one quite a lot. They ssstill mostly fight. And there iss nothing wrong with jussst fighting."

The question makes him pull his head out of the conversation, it swooping to and fro before- "Ah. We can go there," he points out with a talon. A little building with a bar set up facing street side. Perfect for those coming and going. "Thiss one caresss not for what they eat. Asss long it asss it isss food," he laughs.

"Good, Yar not picky either." Yaretzi muses, pausing to look back at the Sith-Makar. "Yes, Am'shere is dangerous... and Yar needs to learn to fight with others. Yar, mostly fight alone." this admission coming with a drop in tone. "Come to learn other warrior ways, be stronger, wiser." offering a shrug as she steers towards the smalll shop that's been pointed out with her steps. "Yar is proud she strong, but too proud caused problems." her words hinting at a story, but she soon drops it.

"What with polearms and Makari?" Yaretzi teases. "Falchion is Yar's choice." a large blade seeming to suit her more than a pole weapon.

Skielstregar gives Yare a side glance. "Pride can be one'sss folly. But pride can be put in many other thingsss. Clan. Tribe. Friendsss," he lists off, counting on his fingers. "Pride in sssomething more than onesself can make one live one larger than life." A beat. "Or, ssso they ssay," he snickers in a deep rumble with a wink.

He thuds over towards a seat, him scooting two enxt to each other so he can sit on both of them. The question asked actually makes him perks up. Oh, he knows this one! "Hidesss of beastss in Am'ssshere tough. Weaponsss break easssily. Ssspearsss and poking sssticks work best. Easy to replace. Thiss one usses a halberd because it worksss like a ssspear, but also can cut if need be."

He eyes the falchion. "Why do you ussse that one? Isss it favored of the Claw?"

"Born of Tigers... means Yar has temper. Bad temper." The woman admits, taking a seat herself across from Skielstregar. "Jaguar Claws use many weapons, but blades and axes more for Yar." her smirk growing as she offers a subtle shrug. "If blade not pierce hide, hit foe harder. Usually works." It's not the best logic, but she's still alive. So it's worked thus far. "Yar uses spears, javelin, and bows. Not favorites, but have place." she does admit, an eye going to the leather frog/half-scabbard where her blade sits. "Jaguar's Claws protect village and people of rivers."

"What of Skielstrgar? Warrior caste means Makari knows the fight, but is Skielstragar protector, or finisher of fights?" Yar asks quietly, curious, and watching the Sith-Makar with dark eyes.

Skiel folds his hands over one another on the bartop. "Thisss one underssstandsss having a temper isssue," he admits in solidarity before snorting. "Yess, hitting harder with mossst things tendss to make it work easssier. Having different weaponsss, thisss one hass learned, makesss it easssier to win a fight that needsss winning. Ssskeletonsss? Terrible with ssspears and axes. Ussse a flail or big ssstick."

He tilts his head to the side. "Really? Thisss one grew up on river. Many riversss through. And sssoftskinss they knew in Am'shere were different than you," he hums, moving past that thought quickly.

He gets some sort of drink ordered for them as he turns back to the human. A rumble echoes in his chest. "Protector," he says with certainty, a hand reaching up to the Dragonfather symbol on his necklace. "Thisss one doesss not like getting into fightsss that need not be done. If they do, well. They finish quickly." His fingers curl around the amulet.

He shakes his head. "What of you? Why come to thisss odd place?"

"Yar... put others to danger. Started fight that was not needed." The woman states simply. "Mistakes, pain. Many reasons drove Yar to find better path." the woman's sojourn here more of self discovery, shifting and pursing lips in thought. "Yar is more finisher of fights, protection goes only so far. Yar, sees that some threats not be so again." trying to smile as she waves away that topic.

"What was softskin like to Skielstregar? How is Yar different?" Yaretzi gets out with a laugh. "Yar learned many sorts come from one place, even if all look same."

Another understanding nod from the towering makari. Though he's slumped a bit now to cut the height difference unconsciously. "Thiss one can underssstand to an extent. Perhapss better to grow that way." A glance to her. "Sssometimes the easiest way to protect is to seek out that which meansss to cause harm, and ensssure it doesssn't anymore."

The question stymies him, him reaching up to scratch a talong against a fang. "Mmmm... that isss... a difficult question to anssswer," he mentions soft (which was more of a bassy rumble than anything). At least drinks have answers, them being slid over to the two of them. He takes one and peers into it. "Now? Jussst people. At home? Weary. You may be sssomewhat different because it feelsss like thisss one can connect to home through you," he freely admits.

Yaretzi finds herself nodding slowly. The words of Skielstregar causing a small peel of lip as a smile again peeks after her time listening. "Weary, but resilient. People of home work hard, but life can be good." mind seeming to roam as the large Makari's answer gets her to thinking. She's grateful for the drink, taking it up and drawing a large pull from its depths. "Yar sees, and agrees. City is not home, and more life spent here, it makes one realize differences in life, and dreams. Many of Am'shere would scoff at life here. Too easy, or not enough of the wilds left to be happy. It is different, but not home. Not near it."

Skiel, finally, takes a drink from his as well. But not before he puffs a small plume of frozen air onto it, chilling and freezing the top of it. He swirls it around, making a big ice block at the top. /Then/ takes his drink. "Thisss one meansss they were weary of sssoftskinss then," he clarifies. "But anyone from home is very resilient indeed."

He shakes his head. "Mosst back home may not even undersssatnd what trialsss await thossse here. You speak true: differencess in life. Dreams. Needsss and wantsss."

He shrugs lightly. "Not near it. But-" he holds up a finger, grinning cheekily. "-here hasss candied bacon! And lotsss of it!" A quiet chuckle rumbles through him before he shakes his head. "Never the lesss, thisss one findsss themssselves working with the Temple of the Dragonfather often."

"There are many who serve the Dragonfather here. Large temples, and many calling themselves guard and blade. Can not be too lonely." Yar muses, but the tease is only just that, her drink peered into as she has to think on some words for a short time. "Candied bacon? Yar has had many things, but not sweetened meats." this something to dwell on, but not for too long.

"Softksins always been outsiders to Makari, but many tribes that live and breath the wilds come to be called friend." offering another soft shrug, her demeanor subdued and often keeping movements and motions reserved. "Yar works for city. People nice, ask Yar to fight many things."

Skielstregar laughs. "No, none too lonely. Thisss one hassn't been lonely in a while. And yess! It isss surprisingly good!" he enthuses, getting a bit animated.

He bobs his head along with her words, humming into his mug as he drains it to the bottom. "Within the-" he pauses for a moment to crunch the ice he made earlier, "Excussse thisss one, within the junglesss, tribesss are all there are. But here, the tribesss are different. And what unitesss usss iss our home. Or, perhapsss, thisss one is just sssappy," he grins.

A finger rises. "Hopefully the fightsss have been well and lesson filled?"

Yaretzi shakes her head, smile broad as she raises her drink to lips, and wipes them clean after with the back of hand. "Not sappy. Yar thinks of home and tribe often.... tribes here are not like tribes of home, Skeilstregar right. Loose, but large. Bonds run not as deep, but replaced with purpose and drive beyond just daily life. Years thought of instead of seasons." her mind ticking away in thought, eyes peering again over the silvery Sith-Makar. "I'd fight for our home any day, no questions... but too would I fight for city. People are good, even if not tribe."

"Banshee and imps was strange to fight. No idea if banshee could be hurt by blade, but Imp was invisible.. so Yar swung at ghost like air and mist." The woman muses of herself. "Made the funny man called Dolan mad."

The shiny makari hums warmly, him reaching over to carefully (those talons were sharp!) pat Yaretzi on the shoulder. "Wissse wordsss. Thisss one thinksss your departure hasss taught you much already."

He pulls beck, reaching up to scratch his chin with a talon. "Thisss one fought a ghossst before. If your weaponsss don't have magic, then they are hard to hit. Besst to help people that can hit them inssstead." A little chuckle. "Thisss one can sssee him getting upset; this one knowsss of him."

Night has truly set in by this point. The big man gives a big yawn with a hand raised against his face (to not flash a bunch of teeth at passerbys) as he turns away (to not flash freeze things in front of him). He shakes his head quickly. "Bah, dawn'sss light. The day slipped by..." The makari turns to Yare. "It hasss been a pleasure to meet you," he offers a hand to shake. "Thiss is what ssssoftskinss do, yesss?"

Yaretzi finds a smirk at the touch to her shoulder, standing as Skielstregar offers a shake of claw. "It is." taking that clawed hand, and giving it a firm jostle. "Go rest, friend. There will be more days. Yar is sure." the woman setting her mug on the bar's top and fishing for a few coins to put tip on the counter after. "Chill seems to follows this one, but Yar thinks story for another time. Skielstregar was well met." a warm tone and nod given after, some of the oddities of the man not spoken of openly, but the woman had to poke at the Makari because it was noticed. "Peace be on your nest, and may we someday see the jungles of home together."

-End Scene-