Wight Into The Cups

Log Info

• Title: Wight Into The Cups
• Emitter: Jinks
• Characters: Eztli, Skielstregar, Mikilos, Robert, Shilde
• Place: Fernwood Pub
• Time: May 30th, 2022
• Summary:

Fernwood Pub, evening.

The various taverns and inns in Alexandria were receiving a large amount of business, what with everyone evacuated into the walls, and many people turning to drinks to ease their nerves over everything happening.

One of such being a certain small sith-makar. Etzli was propper up against one of the tables, with several empty mugs already set out in front of her, and a relatively untouched plate of chips covered in chili. She wasn't paying attention to too much going on in the room aside from the bottom of her current drink, and there was a large slice down the right side of her robes, revealing the brassy scales were present there, as well.

Robert has arrived.

Amongst the thum of people trying to make sense of what was happening as of later, one cuts through by just being far larger than most. Even when they were lacking most of their gear, they still were an imposing figure. Clad in a brownish tunic and pants is that of a familiar looking silverscale man with large fangs.

Dead silver eyes flick about as he's moving from bar to stairs, not wanting to bowl over anyone as his taloned steps are careful and measured. Though, his attention flicks over to a glint at a table, and find a mixed scale there. Relief cross his brow as he thuds over.

"Etzli," he rumbles in their native tongue, him clutching his drink in hand. "Peace on your... nest." He slows for a moment, spying the state of her attire and self. A sigh leaves him, and he leans against the back of the booth across from her. "Are you hale?" he asks first, a tinge of guilt leaking into his tone.

The small makari took a long sip from the mug that looked almost a bit too large in their hand, and it was set down just as Skielstregar came over. Eztli blinked, and flinched, before finally she just sighed and took another drink.

"H-hey, Sshkielstregar, peace on your nesst, right? Guess it's just you and not undead in the city and all." She slightly slurs in greeting. "Asshide from feeling drained of everything, and more than a shmall amount of panic, ssuposhe the drinkssh are making me feel alright."

Shilde has arrived.

The look was something Skiel was used to, but still he couldn't help but glance away all but briefly. "... thisss one isss not an undead within the city," he mentions a bit flatly, back in Trade before inviting himself to sit across from her.

The bench bows under his weight, the cup in hand meant for giantborn. He takes a moment before continuing. "... you sssseem... not well. Dirty water is good most of the time but not all of the time. Did you get in a ssscuffle?"

Mikilos has arrived.

Mikilos enters via the front door, peering around a moment before heading towards the bar proper. The weather outside continues to drizzle, but the elf wizard is surprisingly dry. Well, maybe not so surprising. "Stew, ale, bread, and cheese, please, whatever sort happens to be handy."

Eztli blinks, and chuckles weakly when Skielstregar inquires about her wellness. "I'm not well, sshupposshe that'ssh pretty obviouss." The small makari replies, and sighs. "If you call fighting for your life againssht life draining wightss a sshcuffle. Not the most pleasshant of experiencess, no."

Hekiel glances over to the bar, him tilting his head some, making the ambient light scatter from his too-shiny silver scales. He makes a rumbling sound. Him vaguely recognizing the elf before turning his attention back to the mixed scale.

He dips his snout slightly. "... ah. Thisss one is... sorry you had to go through sssuch a thing. It isss... not pleasant at all, being drained of life from ssssuch creatures," he murmurs with familiarity of the situation. "Thisss one isss glad you are alive. Which isss the mossst important of all."

Mikilos perks, turning towards the sith pair. The elf hesitates a few moments before diving in. "Wights? Where was this, if you don't mind my asking?" Curious, with a touch of anxiety. Understandable with undead involved.

Bob is at the tail-end of a long day but isn't quite ready for sleep. A brief gust of the outside cold spoils the temperature nearest the door as the big Cerenzan steps sideways through the portal. He wears a dark padded jacket over a belted kaftan that's a plum to compliment his red skin. Further concessions to the weather include a pair of longpants and well-worn boots.

The artificer grins as he makes his way towards the bar, fishing out a parcel that's handed over to the server with a brief explanation; keg taps and spigots. An order completed and delivered a day ahead of schedule. He waits for the server to make his X and pockets the receipt.

A brief exchange and Bob acquiesces on the keep's insistance: one beer, yes. He scans the establishment as the drink is poured, finally taking the mug and walking towards Eztli as his smile fades.

"It'ssh not the firssht time I've had to go through sshomething like that, either." Eztli sighs, peering into her drink and finishing it off, before waving for a waitress for another, and catching the elf who was inquiring. "Ah, fair bit away from Alexandria." She grumbles. "Sshtubborn ass hell oruchssh, not a bad thing sshometimessh but time and place, waited to the lassht moment to evacuate. Ssho we had to get them out of there at the lassht moment, nearly getting the crew killed in the processh."

Skielstregar, none in his typical armored wear, shifts slightly as he's asked. "Thisss one hasss not, uh, encountered any yet. But they have been fortifying Mictlan in the meantime."

He softly sighs, a rumble in his chest. "Thisss one knowsss that well. Sssometimesss... if one person isss going to caussse the death of many by being ssselfish. Well. If it happensss again, thisss one hopesss you need not come to a hard decision."

He takes a drink. A long one before he spies the human approaching. This one he did, in fact, /not/ know. He raises his mug some in greeting. "Peasssse."

Mikilos relaxes somewhat, as it becomes clear the threat is not local. Not yet, at least. "Always choices when trying to evacuate. Some people leaving behind the only life they've ever known. Not easy, even when it's the obvious choice." A mug is raised to the arrival of Robert.

"Muse' grace," Robert answers with a nod and a subtle lift of the mug in his crooked-arm carry. Then he tips it subtly towards himself. "Robert Ilife. Folk call me Bob. Or Rob." He gives Mikilos a second glance, blue eyes scanning up and down. "I know you, friend? You seem familiar."

Half-waiting for an answer, he looks askance at the smallest sith. "Are you doing better today, miss Eztli?"

"Na. Ah tellt ye ye hae tae hauld yer horses ootdoors. Ah dinnae care if it howfs guid in 'ere. Gang fin' a moggie tae chase!" Shilde has to nearly slam the door behind her to keep her large canine companion from following her inside. That done, she turns and, rubbing her hands together, takes a deep breath and smell of the interior before lumbering over towards the bar.

GAME: Mikilos rolls linguistics: (9)+32: 41

"Wassh pride, not sshelfisshness. Pride got all thosshe people killed." The small makari sighs. "And they come back when killed by the damn thingssh, so it jussht sspiralssh out of control. Not that they even need the extra numberssh. I recognized sshome of them, guardssh from back home- where I sshtayed for a while."

Eztli reached for her drink, finding it empty and the replacement taking some time with how busy the place is. She settles for picking at some of her chili chips. "Been a hell of a lot better, Robert. Feel better, but not sshure how much is recovery and how much issh the amount of drinkssh in me. Leassht it paid well enough to get more than a few roundss."

GAME: Robert deactivates his Titan Armor.

"SSSkielstregar, Warrior casssste. Ssskiel if that'sss too much," the lumbering introduces himself before looking back to the smaller sith. His brows pinch some, and his dead gaze flicks to the table. "... thisss one underssstands. Pride can certainly land one in rough placessss and cossst thingsss most dear."

He takes a breath in, and slowly exhales, letting a plume of frozen air chill his drink. A glance over, and he relaxes some. "Hey, Etzli. Ssshaman Ssshilde isss here. You were worried about her," he murmurs, gesturing off towards the bar.

Mikilos nods to Rob. "Mikilos Mithralla, we met in the market. It's been a few weeks." The mild scuffle at the door fetches his attention, and raises his mug in greeting again. "No undead are plesant, but wights are worse than average. A small outbreak can turn into a major outbreak quickly."

"Of course. The competition," Bob remembers with a distracted laugh. He looks from Mikilos to Eztli and then to Skielstregar. He offers a questioning look and nods at the smaller of the pair as he lifts his mug indicatively. Then he leans over and sets the drink towards Eztli but where the brass-scale will have to play relay; let her fellow decide if she's fit for another.

"Mister Skielstregar," he adds, being careful to take time with the unfamiliar name. "You surely do have the look of an able warrior. Indeed." He grins a friendly grin-- then turns and lifts a gloved hand in greeting to the Khazad.

"We're having quite the reunion, aren't we?" He muses.

"Reunion? Phah. Ye make it sound like t'were all invited here," Shilde says, waving her hand as she pulls herself up on to a stool and thumps on the bar counter to grab attention and order herself 'whatever's been freshly tapped'. While she waits, she swivels so she can see the entirety of the conversers; Robert, Eztlie, Skielstregar and Mikilos. "Touched ye were worried, Eztli.. but Rocky's okay. Got worse scars from afore. An' ye look like ye have the right idea... fortifyin' after a rough fight."

"I'm worried, beyond worried really, at what'ssh to come." The small makari states, finding her drink refilled instead by one offered by Robert. She nods once, and greedily quaffs down most of it in one go. "No, they're not. Bodiessh belong either back in the ground or burnt, not walking around killing people. At the very least, I think there was a net losssh in them after that trip. Sshmall comfort, but a comfort, at leasht."

"Oh!" She exclaims when she realizes something. "Yeah, wassh worried about Sshilde, you, that issh." She nods to the dwarf. "But I ran into her on the job, ssho she was okay. Wassh just worried what with her wandering the foresshts with them about, is all. And I'm not fortifying anything, If anything I'm trying to get my brain to sshtop thinking straight ssho I can not worry about thosshe things for a moment."

Skielstregar nods solemnly at the knowledge of wights, but his attention turns to the human and his softkin ticks and half gestures. It takes him a solid second, but it seems to click with him. He raises a hand-

But its too late, the little sith had already sniped it and quaffed it. A little sigh leaves him, and he shrugs. But, he can't help but grin a bit, showing off his fangs. "Ah, yesss, thisss one isss... very much so. Thank you. Robert."

He turns towards Etzli, watching her idly as his features pull down some in worry. "... being drunk isss fine. Though thisss one worriesss you may need sssome water..." he mumbles, glancing to the others and trying to scoot over some to make room.

He kind of takes up almost the whole bench.

Mikilos frowns thoughfully, muttering absently to himself a few moments before looking to those who were part of the fight. "How thick were the wight numbers? How large a force would be needed to push them back and eradicate their numbers?"

Bob watches Eztli intently for a moment, his smile dipping when Skielstregar raises a warding hand too late. He reaches into the pockets of his coat, inspecting a few stray gadgets he's brought along... but not finding what he's looking for. "We'll be fine, miss Eztli, truly. Things will be difficult but we'll come through; this is nothing like Dragonier."

Turning, his expression shifts, his jaw sets, and he listens to Mikilos rattle off his question. "Heth's forces aren't moving as a traditional army would-- at least this group wasn't." He frees his gloved hand and holds it up, three fingers extended. "Only three wights prowling on their own entered the camp. The problem cascades when the fallen rise." He shrugs shallow and shakes his head, adding, "We didn't see a commander and we've no way of knowing if they had specific orders to reach that town.

"It might be geurilla tactics... or there may be no tactics beyond instinct. Knowing they're here and given time to prepare... the military and other organizations within the city will mount sufficient defense."

"That's what some've's call fortifying, lass," Shilde tells Eztli, taking her newly arrived tankard and taking several seconds to drain it. Not all dwarves are big drinkers. The stereotype is more than likely unfair. But the druid here tonight certainly doesn't help the image as the empty tankard is set back down, and her knuckles rap the bar top for a refill.

Shilde raises her mug in agreement with Robert's assessment.. also aknowledging that he might, despite being a human, have more knowledge than her in the ways of war. Then she looks at Mikilos. "The ones we saw at the beginnin' when we were rescuin' the dimwit halfling from 'is tree? Didn't see 'em all. But we 'eard 'em. They were all over. But jes' the three at the orc hut. T'start. Left 'em with only three, too, at least.. but.." She shrugs. It wasn't exactly a victory.

"Water leavessh lesss room for the alcohol in my sshtomach." The small sith-makar sighs, quieting it with another drink from her mug. "Y'can't wipe out wights with an overwhelming force, lessh you have imposshibly overwhelming oddssh. No clue what they're doing, whatever it isssh, it'ss not good."

"That damn sshkeletal dragon'ssh sshtill out there. If the covenant of the golden dragon couldn't do anything, then I have no clue about Alexandria."

Well, it seemed like she cut herself off, but only because Eztli buried her snout and eyes into her arms, hanging slightly over the edge of the table to sniffle quietly.

Skielstregar nods along with Bob. "Yesss... we have information and preparation..."

Though, he trails off and rubs the bridge of his snout. "... would be nissse to have sssome of Father'sss light..." he rumbles in complaint before shaking his head, making the Dragonfather symbol on his neck muted thud against the metallic scales as he does so.

He drums his too-long talons against the table top as the others talk and ponder aloud, him slowly exhaling at the thought of dealing with more undead.

"Water meansss less alcohol in the skull when you wake up with it pounding you into the ground from every little thing," he mentions off handedly, head dipping some in adjacent shame at the thought of the golden dragon being unable to do anything.

Though, her noises break his inner thoughts, and without thinking, he reaches across the way to pat her atop the head, just like he's done for his sister many-a-times.

Though his touch is cold and stiff. Must be the silverscale in him.

Mikilos nods to Robert. "I understand all that, but useful to know they were traveling in a pack of three. Might not be typical, but know they aren't under some sort of order to travel individually. I'll have to talk to the military, but suspect could help take back a valley or two without too much risk to anyone involved." He considers. "Excluding the wights, of course... and Bralani aren't ecactly known for playing things safe." He frowns mildly, looking to Eztli. "Heth isn't skeletal. He's a Void dragon. THE Void dragon, in many respects. Dragonier didn't know what hey were dealing with and stood alone. Alexandros is prepared and has the assistance of several other nations in this matter. Politics are still a mess, but everyone understands an army of wights is a problem for everyone."

"My kid is here, miss Eztli, and most of my grandbabies." Bob hoists the strap of his satchel, lifting it over his head so weight crosses his trunk. "And IC and all the good folk I've had the pleasure of meeting. The Muse knows I'd be upset if anything happens to this place and She owes me a couple," he offers with a warm smile.

"It sounds like you've got Daeus in your corner, too," the big man adds with a glance to Skielstregar. "Look after yourself tonight, miss Eztli, and find us at the forge tomorrow if you're feeling down." He shifts the strap again. "Bit of heat, percussion, and some good company will do wonders for you, I promise."

The Cerenzan reaches into his pack, thinks a moment and then produces a little wax-wrapped bundle that he sits down next to the the smaller sith-makar's snout. "Hard-candied fruit preserves. Leah and Olo will just have to share the other one," he winks and pats his satchel.

"Feel better," he requests with a nod, then raises a hand to the others in farewell. "Speaking of: I'm on babysitting duty tonight so Shuf can take my boy out..."

Shilde puts the second tankard to her lips and drains it as dry as the first, though if one's counting it does take her a little longer. She finishes it with a burp, then leaves it on the counter along with some coins before she hops off of the stool. "Fights comin' whether we like it'r not.. an' considerin' the typs what live here, fightin' here's better'n fightin' most other places, I figger. Run if ye want.. but this fight with 'Heth'? Probably find ye no matter where ye go." She flips off a casual wave at everyone, then heads on back outside. Before the door closes, you can hear her raised voice. "Oi, fer th'ammers above, Rocky! Yer supposed t'do that in the alley!" And then the door swings closed.

Shilde has left.

The sniffling continued quietly for some time, only pausing briefly when she was pat on the head.

And then Mikilos' explanation only made it return for some time.

"Sshorry, I wassh lucky enough not to get a good look at the thing, what with the whole fleeing for my life thing." The small makari mumbles into her arms. "And how d'you know? Dragonier wassh trying their bessht to help out people around them. And when it happened, they jussht got left in the dussht by all those other nationssh. They'll do the sshame here, under cover of not being able to sshpare the help when they need to protect their own interesshtss."

She doesn't look up from her arms. "Thank you, but now I feel bad making your kidssh or grandkidssh go without candies. You sshould keep them for them, Robert. Maybe I'll find my way over there tomorrow, though."

Skielstregar stares at Mikilos, then steals a glance at Eztli and his efforts being dashed before deadpanning to the elf, "You are not helping morale, Shaman."

The warrior rolls a shoulder, him looking away briefly. "... He isss in thisss one'sss corner, though not in... the typical way..." he murmurs cryptically before shaking his head. "Ssstay sssafe, Shaman Shilde."

Sighing, he downs the last of his drink and slides out of his seat on the bench, it creaking from being relieved from the sheer mass of a man. "Thisss one thinksss it isss time for you to sleep this off, Etzli. Essspeically if you're turning down good candy."

Mikilos raises a hand towards Robert. "Fare well and good luck. Babysitting can always go sideways." He shrugs to Eztli. "Knowing things is what I do. Yes, there will be loss, yes, there will be hardship, yes, there will be shortsighted fools thinking only of themselves. But, there will also be heros and saints who turn back the darkness and bring hope to where there was none. There will be an army of celestials sweeping the land of undead. There will be fire and holy power. Balence -will- be restored."

"Keep it, miss," Robert dismisses her concerns with a step back and a hand held up. "They won't know the difference and will be happy to share. I'm sure Olo will love watching his big sister break the candy for him, too." He can't help but smile wider thinking about the pair.

"Mister Mithralla," he nods at the elf. "Muse' grace, all," he says before departing.

"I'm not turning down good candy, mean, it'ssh probably good, but, oh. Guesssh I can't turn it down." Eztli sighs as she finally pulls her face out of her arms to look at the package. "Well, thank you, Robert."

"I still need to eat though, Sshlielsshtregar." She slurs, gesturing to the plate of food. "Even if sshleep ssounds really, really good. If I can manage it."

"If you find thosshe holy armiessh of celesstialsss, then asshk them for me why the hell they didn't sshow up for Dragonier." Eztli snorts.

Skielstregar gives a parting wave to Robert. "Peassse on your nesst and safe travelsss. Pleasure to meet you."

His attention shifts back to Mikilos, his scaled brows furrowed. "Why didn't you ssstart with that /first/? We are not you. Telling usss the grim reality of what we face drivesss one closer to despair than hope when one isssn't tempered by fire and flame," he quietly chastises, not unlike any holy warrior would in a situation like this.

The massive makari gulps quietly at the thought of celestial aid being absent. Something he's... too familiar with. He holds his holy symbol, thumb brushing against the rest scale tied to it. "Then we will take your food to your room so you do not passss out amidst all thisss."

Mikilos blinks at Eztil. "Because I hadn't summoned them yet." He blinks to Skielstregar as well. "Because starting with hopes and throwing current facts on top is worse? Things are bad. We'll make them better." A simple statement of fact.

"If you're a better sshpellcasster than those in Dragonier and Rune, then you're welcome to try, at leassht. Maybe sshomething good will come of it." Eztli sighs as she pushes into the table to pull up in her seat. Thankfully too small to jostle it much. She reaches into her robes, and pulls out a few silver coins that she dumps on to the table.

"Ssshometimess, a little hope is nice. Thought I'd find sshome here." Eztli chuffs, reaching to take the plate of fries and chili unsteadily. "Alright, yeah. I'll go eat in my room, I think I already paid for one. Leassht I think that'ss the key in my pocket."

Skiel just stares at Mikilos. His maw opens to retort, but he ends up shaking his head, letting it die away in his throat. "We will," he diplomatically agrees.

The massive makari steps up to Etzli, him reaching out to take the plate off her hands with a large hand resting on her back to steady her. "Thisss one will essscort you there, and bring you sssome water. Peace on your nessst Shaman Mikilossss."