What's In a Light

Log Info

• Title: What's In a Light
• Emitter: Skielstregar
• Characters: Skielstregar, Aelwyn, Murder
• Place: Temple of Daeus
• Time: October 17th, 2022
• Summary: Skielstregar is inquiring at the Temple of Daeus regarding some questions in relation to his odd acting weapon. Left puzzled, he ends up speaking with Aelwyn and Murder over some bread about his and his weapon's actions. They thought it just, but evidence shook their resolve. Some choice words get the man a bit testy, but they end up reassuring him, and he requests solitude to ponder their words.

Temple of Daeus, Afternoon

"Whatever do you mean, Sunguard?" a bassy, rumbling tone asks that of a short Lucht Suli woman draped in chainmail and gold vestments. Despite woman's short stature, it was somewhat comical having someone nearly four times as tall kneeling down reverently.

Said woman had her gauntleted hands around a seven foot long halberd. Much too large for her, but her plated fingers were trailing along the axe head. "I mean, big guy, that you got some weeeeird stuff going on with this thing and you. This ain't His Light's doing, I can tell you that. But maybe it's something adjacent? Ya said it acted weird when you both were wrong?"

Skielstregar, kneeling on both knees, has his hands on his legs within the open sky of the temple. His bows his head in a slow nod. "Yessss. It... did."

The Lucht quirks their lips to the side, curls a finger, and knocks it lightly against the weapon a few times. No real reaction aside from a metallic clang. "... whatever is going on man, if its got something to do with what you said, probably need to just like, connect with it."

"You speak like a druid."

They thumb their nose and smile. "Wisdom is wisdom, eh? Don't sweat it too much," she laughs, patting him on the arm before with offering the weapon back. "May His Light guide you, brother," she farewells before dipping deeper into the temple.

"Likewissse..." Skielstregar hums, taking his weapon back and staring at it.

It's a gleaming silver still, with little arcane runes shifting with an iridescent sheen subtly.

He leans back until he plops onto his rear on the floor, eyes closing with a long sigh.

Click clack - or just clawed footsteps of an approaching and ruddy sith-makar. The Dragoon walks closer until he stops; red ribbons moving to rest against his horns and shoulders alike.

"This one hopes Silver is not prepared to leave us yet with a sigh so deep, it had to come from beyond the sky." Aelwyn says by the far larger and more shiny sith-makar.

There's a bit of a shuffle - and then a scent of freshly baked piece of bread. Very fresh. "Bite?"

"Mrrrh?" Skiel grunts, pulling his attention out from wandering thoughts to whoever was there. He looks over, then up ever so slightly. Sitting down, his height was roughly that of the Dragoon's. Blinks.

... click. "Oh! Heh. No no. Nothing like that," he rumbles, shaking his head. "Ah, yessss, thank you."

He takes the offered bread, breaking it in two. "Delivering bread again?" he inquires.

The sound of running feet, and then "BREAD?!", in a loud, squeaky voice precedes the appearance of Murder. Having climbed up Aelwyn's back, she peers over his head.

"Is there more?", she wonders, peering hungrily at Skielstregar, and then at the ruddy-scale below. Her grin is broad and toothy as she leans her elbows on the top of Aelwyn's head, and rests her chin on her hands.

Aelwyn lets the larger sith to have the very soft and fluffy piece of bread, steaming with its baked contents. "This one is." The draconian begins, holding up the bag - and then he is summarily assaulted. Taking in a deep breath he reaffirms his stance, but then tilts his head upwards. "With a warning, Shortie, climb with a warning." He growls, whipping his tail behind, but he does not otherwise object. Except to hide the bag of breads in question.

Eyes returning over the silvery makar, he gestures. "Silver seems particularly lost." Eyes turn towards the halberd once more, fascination evident on his eyes as ever, but his attention returns. "Carrying a heavy weight?"

The running patter of feet makes the shiny silver scale shift a hand over the weapon in his lap. But he ends up just shifting it closer as the gobbo makes her appearance with a flourish. A chuckle leaves Skielstregar. "That issss up to the bread-man," he rumbles, biting into one of the fluffy baked goods. Well. Bite. More like half of it is gone in one go.

With both people above him, two pairs of eyes can note the almost vulnerable stance the towering man is in. Long talons pick idly at one another. "... sssomewhat. Thisss one isss mossstly... confused."

The weapon on his lap loses its gleam for a beat before returning. ".. erm, we both are confused."

The Gobbo laughs at his request of a warning, and rubs at his forehead with a hand. "I'll try, next time. But I'm not all that heavy, am I? And I even trimmed my toeclaws." Her nose twitches as she sniffs heavily at the air. "Are you baking these yourself?", she wonders.

Murder eyes Skiel as he speaks, and nods slowly. "A heavy weight, and confusion? What are you uh both confused about?" The dimming of the weapon momentarily catches her eye, and she squints. "Intelligent weapon?"

Her stomach gurgles noisily. "Could I have a bread, please, Aelwyn?", the Gobbo asks sweetly.

Aelwyn looks over his shoulder, then gives a heavier look towards Skielstregar. "She trimmed her toeclaws." Rolling his shoulders with a low rumble, he gives his head a shake. "No, these are from the bakery, to here. She is not a Sunguard, is she?" Not that he is usually very picky about his deliveries. One can wonder how he manages to hold onto his job.

The silvery makar's words cause him to pause though, and he tilts his head back. Eyes turn towards the weapon, and his teeth are exposed as the Gobbo suggests the intelligent weapon part. "Hmmh." He rumbles. "Lost love, given shape to protect Silver's step and charmingly confused gaze?"

A moment later, he walks closer towards the makari and puts his hand on the other's shoulder. "A tease. Is Silver alright?"

Skiel looks down at his taloned feet. He wiggles his toes. "... thisss one could not imagine trimming their talons on their feet. They would slip and fall consssstantly."

The last of his bread is gone with a bite as he gives a slight nod towards Murder. "Thisss one thinks Malefic hasss it'sss own mind. But it isss... hard, to know what they want."

A look to Aelwyn. A blink. Then a singular bark of laughter. "Pah! If that were the case, thisss one'sss Chiuaa would have many questionsss!" His smile dims slightly as his gaze falls to the flat of the reflective metal of the axe. "Ah... well. Yess, for the mossst part. It isss just..."

A breath cycles. "... thisss one went on a mission with othersss to clear a mining town from giants. We had a Sunblade with usss. We fought them, then the tide turned to usss winning. Thisss one urged surrender. One was dying, choking out from a ssspell. The other was fleeing."

His attention shifts to the marble statue of Daeus. "The Sssunblade chased them. Called upon Daeus for hisss judgement. And with his blessing, ssstruck them down from behind."

His fingers curl around the haft of the polearm, the gleam on the weapon clouding as his gaze shifts back to the two. "... they both died. He hath judged them and wasss found wanting. Thisss one mourns not for the death of the giantsss. But rather... we both-" he rattles Malefic, "- were so certain of our actions, mercy. Yet apparently it was the wrong one? Have we always strayed from Hisss Light?"

Murder squints her eyes, and presses her thumb into the Ruddy-scale's forehead. "Last I checked, Skielstregar is not a sunblade. He has more in common with me than he does a mere paladin." She huffs, and jumps down from Aelwyn's back and settles down instead at the Silver-scale's feet.

The Gobbo goes silent as SKiel speaks, her eyes wide for a time. As he finishes, she pats one of his feet.

"You were not in the wrong, and no, you have not strayed from His light. Paladins have a certain purpose in life, and generally it is to put Evil to death. They cannot suffer Evil to live. I can't speak to what exactly those giants were up to, but if you were sent on a mission to deal with them, they were probably up to no good. Probably evil, thus the Paladin felt justified in causing their deaths. But what you did is not wrong. Justice doesn't always mean someone's death."

Caught. "No, but Silver needed a piece of bread." Aelwyn deflects, sliding the bag of bread around his hip. He grunts when the Gobbo slides off him, rolling his shoulders and his quilled mane, before looking towards Skielstregar.

Scaled lips twist and press against each other, and he pulls his own glaive against his shoulder. "Hnh." The draconian lets out at last, before taking in a deep breath and rolling his shoulders. He lets the Gobbo speak, his tail tips and taps against the floor for a time - until it finally whips sharp against Skielstregar's backside.

"Well, have you?" The Dragoon bluntly asks, with a tilt of his head.

> "Last I checked, Skielstregar is not a sunblade. He has more in common with me than he does a mere paladin."

Skielstregar lowers his gaze to the ground, and remains silent for a spell. Reassurances from words and pats are given, but don't warm his chilly hide.

Then he is thwacked.

"Yes! Isss it not obviousss??" he suddenly snarls, snapping towards Aelwyn. The halberd in his lap rolls a bit before the flat of the blade kips up and >CLANGS< against the side of his head.

The makari clinches, hissing and rubbing the side of Skiel's head. "... sssorry," he sighs. "You are right, Murder. Thisss one doesss not think they ssstray far. They know they are not in the wrong. It isss just... thinking one isss doing what a sssunblade would do, then is shown that isss not what ssshould be done."

The Gobbo's eyebrows shoot up as Aelwyn's tail cracks against Skiel's rump, and she is already moving before the Silver-scale snarls, looking to reach a safe distance. She slowly stands, scowling at Aelwyn. One can almost see the smoking coming from her ears.

Her visage softens as Skielstregar is whacked by his own weapon. Rubbing at her cheek, she approaches the two Sith once more.

"You are far crazier than I gave you credit for.", she says to the Ruddy-scale Sith. Her gaze falls on Skiel. "Aahaaaa. I see what is eating at you. Do you think all Sith are the same?", she wonders. "If no, why do you think all Sunblades are the same? Why compare yourself to the actions of one, or a few? Even what I said about them is a rather gross generalization. Paladins have a far narrower path to follow, but this does not mean they will all act the same in any given situation."

Aelwyn, for his part, stands still when Skielstregar suddenly verbally lunges at him. Well, mostly - he bends back as if by the wind; or by a very large sith-makar snapping their teeth at him.

The draconian shoots a glance towards the Gobbo with a 'what?' look on his face, before his orange pupils turn towards the silver scales. "If it was obvious, then what would be the use to think about it?" The ruddy-scaled draconian says, with a tip of his tail. A hand slides a hand into his bag and steps closer towards Skiel. Tentatively and with that foolish lack of danger, he approaches - and drapes his arm and side in a kind of a half hug. "It is not obvious. Gods are not obvious. Life is not obvious."

A piece of bread is pulled out and offered to the (dangerously) large, sullen makari. "Shortie is right. Where would be the fun if Silver was so obvious as well?"

Skielstregar lets out a breath, him settling Malefic back on his lap. A dead eye watches Murder for a beat before he chuffs the last of the air out. "... that isss a fair obssservation. No, they would not be. It iss just the fact the matter. Thiss one would not call for judgement, and yet it wass a right call." He ponders his words uttered. Then, his shoulder lax some. "... thisss one sssuposses that isss true. Not all Sunblades are the ssame. Perhapss they should seek council with another Sunguard."

He looks up to Aelwyn as he closes in and loops an arm around the absolutely frigid makari. A sigh leaves him, and he takes the warm bread. "... thiss one isss not in it for the fun," he reminds, biting off most of the bread with little left. "They are jussst trying to act like they have sssome ssshred of what they once were."

As Aelwyn offers up the bread to Skielstregar, the Gobbo's hand darts into the bag, coming free with a piece of bread. This is immediately shoved into her mouth. Where she chews at length, cheeks full and stretched tight.

Swallowing noisily, she coughs a little.

"There are many times in life where there is no wrong answer, and too many times where there is no right answer. All you can do is the best you can. You make a decision. What makes you a good person is how you deal with the consequences of your decisions."

Murder draws closer to the Silver-scale, eyeing her reflection, and touching one of the scales reverently.

"Why? Why try to 'act' like you were some shred of what you once were? You are you, now. Past-you is different from now-you. You should not 'act' like yourself... you should just be."

"Life is not fun, neither is it a performance." Aelwyn pats Skielstregar on his shoulder, rumbling at the Gobbo's words. Poor bread - so vulnerable and leaving so many mouths hungry.

"Hmmh, this one agrees with Shortie." Tail swaying behind him, he lightly taps at the floor with it. "Silver should become a writer instead." Leaning in closer, he gutturally rumbles, "Write stories of how Maleficent strode into his life, the struggle of reaching out to someone with one's heart, feeling every drop fall to the floor - " A deep breath, "And then you are picked up again."

The makari raises his shoulders, leaning away from the larger sith on his feet. "Or of his passion, this is a temple."

Skiel is chilly to the touch.

He doesn't notice it, his attention shifting to nothing in the air as one hand wraps around the Dragonfather amulet on his neck. Maw rests on his knees as he pulls his legs in.

His eyes close again, but one briefly opens to watch Aelwyn's suggestion for prose. Quietly, he chuffs out a puff of frozen air. Malefic's runes brighten to a glimmer. Skiel looks down at it before shaking his head.

"Gnrr... poor choice of wordsss. Trade bad. It isss no act. Their desire to walk the path of His Light isss sstrong. And thisss one... think they did at one point. They don't remember anymore."

He inhales deeply. Unfurls his legs. Then reaches out with both stout arms to give the two a crushing double hug. "Thisss one appreciatesss both of your kind wordssss," he rumbles warmly. Good gods, its like an ice cube with muscles.

Murder does not see the impending hug of doooom, and squeaks in surprise as she's smooshed to Skiel's side.

"Ack! Goodness you are cold!" She snorts and lets out a chuckle, her arms wrapping against him as best she can. "Walk in His light, then. But do it your own way. You can uphold His virtues and still be merciful."

She huffs out a breath, causing a light layer of frost to appear on a few of his scales. "Remind me to hug you more on those hot, summer days.", the Gobbo says with a laugh.

Aelwyn by contrast, was hot. Not as hot as Skielstregar was cold, though. Mostly on emotional sense. The smaller makari's scales let out a threatening 'crik' as they get in contact with the cold scales and he lets out a sharp hiss, tail whipping behind him.

"Hnng-rr-hngh..." The Dragoon lets out from between his teeth, before he elbows at the larger makari's side and wraps his arm around him. "Peace on your nest." He says, with a bit of resignation on his voice as he slowly peels himself away and straightens. "May the sky's clouds be gentle on him." Taking in another deep breath - and gingerly touching at his side, he glances towards Murder. "This one will bring more bread later." Hand is patted over Skielstregar's shoulder, before he starts to walk along the hallway.

Skielstregar chuckles. "Well, yesss, they are very cold. Sssilver blood runsss sssstrong in thisss one," he mentions, giving the two one more squeeze before releasing them. A look to Aelwyn, and a small smile pulls at his maw. "... thank you. Peace on your nesst."

Murder's words get him contemplative, and his attention shifts to the statue of Daeus in the center of the temple. He's quiet. Aelwyn is leaving. "... thisss one will ponder your wisssdom. If it isss not too much to ask, thisss one wisshesss to be left alone."

"Thank you, both."

Malefic glimmers.

-End Scene-

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