MEETUP: Lamplighting Ceremony

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-<* A05: Warehouse District *>--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

The freshness of the Tornmawr River cuts along this section of Alexandria. Its broad expanse creates the district's eastern border. Ships and barges dot its surface. Some make deliveries here and up the river, while others dock for repair. These vehicles move slowly over the water, their sails colorful and proud. No few bear a nod to Rada, or three, for luck's sake. Many also bear the colors of different nations and city-states, all of them coming here to bring trade to Alexandria.

Warehouses line the district's streets, dotted with the names of shipping companies and various industries. These, mixed with the occasional sailor's tavern, set the tone for the area. Overall, it's bustling, busy, about what one would expect for a city of this size.

To the south, the great Sea Wall and the Port of Alexandria. Both are considered wonders of the modern world.

At the edge of the warehouse district, near the edge of the bridge, an event is happening! Crowds mill about, entertained by jugglers and bards of all stripes, and a bandstand has been erected where groups take turns filling the air with their songs. A podium has been set up, and a section of sidewalk is fenced off with a large hole drilled in. Food vendors are around, merchants - whatever you might expect, really, and a HEAVY presence of Reosian priests and City Guard.

Aya dips her chin in a nod of acknowledgement, seeming even more quiet in contrast to the booming Kaj. "Hello. To answer your question, given that Fazahd the demi-khazad looks to be the orchestrator, this would be related to his charity work. Seeking to make the city a brighter, safer place."

Demi-Khazad. That's good stuff. Said pseudodwarf has been busy running about, barking things mostly in Khazdul and tradespeak, with the occasional gutteral string of Kulthian - enough to make people peer in his direction, sometimes with a jump. However, this day is all about artifice, and you can't spell artifice without a-a-f-e-r-k-u-u-z-l. Or maybe that's a cat getting strangled in an alley.

Ga'Elian takes the proffered hand, and shakes it, despite it being rather like a toddler shaking hand with an adult. He nods to Aya, then more deeply to Fazahd, before saying, "And Master Kaj, workest thou here, or art thou merely lending thy formidable back for the special occasion?"

"I'm a longshoreman cum stevedore around here," offers Kaj, his hand engulfing Ga'Elian's momentarily before letting go and being offered to Aya. "The mules can carry as much, but I'm better at following directions," he adds, with a wink.

Aya lifts her hand... to hold it up, palm-forward in a gesture of decline. Perhaps his hands are dirty. Maybe she just wants to keep her phalanges intact. "It imagine that you'll always find work, then."

Kaj grins, which makes the tattoos on the side of his face scrunch into odd forms. "I'm as busy as I can be, as I also look after the animal's health and.." he trails off, not finishing the thought. He seems unphased by the no handshake thing, probably used to people being intimidated by his size (and let's be honest: his overfriendlyness).

"Is that...ah! Hello, Aya!" Fazahd arrives, dusting his hands off on his apron as he strides over to the group. He sounds uncharacteristically pleasant. "I would never have expected you to come. Hello, everyone."

Ga'Elian looks around, "Thou meanest the mules? Yes, they can be obedient; they simply choose not to unless it suiteth their whim." He smiles in amusement.

Aya turns head and eyes towards the vocal and approaching Fazahd. A brow arches. "Come to what? I'm just passing through the district on my way elsewhere."

"Well, since you're here, I've got something for you." Fazahd reaches into the pocket of his apron and produces a simple bundle of black fabric, bound in a dark blue ribbon. "I've been working on methods of illusory artifice, and I thought this might come in handy for you on your travels, if not your everyday life. It's called a Shifting Sleeve. Lets you make your clothes appear however you like them to, so long as you wear it."

Ga'Elian smirks toward Aya as he says, "It seemeth to me that thou are an urban ranger, scouting and patrolling the byways of Alexandria, as I do the forests, for ever thou seemest to be passing through." He winks. Then to Fazahd, "And thou, sir, seemest never to rest. 'Tis good. Thou art a paragon of thy faith."

Aya now arches a brow at Ga'Elian. After a pause, she rolls one should. "You could view it that way, yes." Her focus pivots sharply back to Fazahd and both brows arch as she glances from him, to the bundle, and back. "Interesting. To what do I owe the offer...and how much would I owe should I accept?"

"I'll sleep when I'm dead," Fazahd says with a snort. "Although, truth be told, I seem to be gathering a mounting number of people who want to put me to bed - I'm sorry for yesterday's display, by the by." He blinks at Aya. "Oh! You'd owe nothing, Aya, you know me. You're my friend, and this is a side product of my experiments. It's a gift."

Kaj smiles very approvingly at the gesture of generosity, and is obviously eager to introduce himself to Fazahd, but won't interrupt. Instead, he digs into a pocket and produces some scraps for the ravens that have landed on one of the barrels.

Aya lowers one brow of two. "I see." She remains somewhat dubious, either of the gift or of what she knows of Fazahd. After a pause for consideration, she takes the offered bundle. "Very well. I accept, and am grateful for the gift. If you are always so generous, you could easily grow that number higher."

Ga'Elian chuckles at Aya's reaction to Fazahd's gift, and says, "Or at least a long queue of folks wanting magical implements at the same price." Then turning, he says, "The imposing figure beside me is Kaj; I've only just met him. And about that Arvek last night? He was sort of fishy at first."

"Of course," Fazahd says with a faint smirk. "You can try it on if you like - it's entirely controlled by mental command. Just know that it's only a visual change; tactile stimulus and sound, however, remain."

"Hello very generous priest!" offers Kaj to Fazahd, "It is my favourite quality in any individuals," he adds, not that he might think he'd care about some poor half-giant's opinion.

He smiles appreciatively at the ranger who takes the trouble to introduce him.

Aya dips her head in a nod to Fazahd. "I will do so, and keep that in mind. After I've completed my business at hand. If you'll excuse me." She offers a light nod to Kaj and Ga'Elian as well before she continues on her way. She did mention that she was only passing through.

Ga'Elian picks out a raven from the flock (one that is not busy feeding) and makes eye contact with it. He studies it for a full minute, and allows it the same chance, finally telling it, "<something you don't understand in sylvan>"

GAME: Ga'Elian rolls WildEmpathy/animal: aliased to Ranger+Charisma: (7)+7+1: 15

The raven holds eye contact. "No idea what you're on about," the raven says, in the common tongue (with a lot of sass!).

"Shard!" exclaims Kaj, somewhat resigned to the Raven's manner. "Apologies for that outburst, he's usually a TOUCH more tactful...err, pun intended."

But the Raven still beguiling all my fancy into smiling,

Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust, and door;

Then upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking

Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore--

What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous bird of yore

Meant in croaking 'Nevermore.'

Ga'Elian chuckles. To Shard: "Well, the Silver Huntress bless me. Thou art no mere, simple raven. For mine ignorance so craven, thy forgiveness I implore."

"It's nice to meet you, too," says Fazahd, rather pleased that the dark elf took his gift - which, you know, is weird, but whatever. "I'm sorry, I was just a bit excited to see her. Ah, how are you all?"

Svarshan has arrived.

Shard plumps his feathers and hop-flies up to Kaj's enormous shoulder. He then speaks to the ranger. "Craven rhymes with raven! CAW!" He then nods. And shrugs.

For his part Kaj still looks a bit leery and apologetic but he lets it be and turns to Fazahd, "Is she your mate?" he asks, pondering.

Ga'Elian remarks, "Aya is often full of surprises, and I suspect that she liketh it to be so."

"Look!" Laughing, Svarshan grasps the child in his arms. The young, very young sith-makar lunges towards the griffon. "I wanna ssee, dad! I wanna ssee!"

"Sssa. And what did the Keeperss ssay."

The young one goes still, and squirms and kicks. Except his father doesn't let go. Svarshan, and a small group of sith-makar are headed towards the docks, today. The brightscale wears the marks of his caste, and the armor, the weaponry. Another of the warrior-caste walks with them, and two more--an egg tender and a fourth wearing the bright colors of merchant-caste.

"No, nothing like that," Fazahd says with a snort. "She is my friend, nothing more. Prickly, occasionally selfish, but she has a good, fierce heart." He offers Kaj his hand. "Fazahd Masterbuilder, my son, good to meet you. You were looking for me?"

In the background, the last of the preparations are complete, and the event begins. Music drifts in the air, and there is food and entertainment - a LOT of bards here, that's for certain. And...hey, people are starting to drift in, because who doesn't like a party?

Kaj gently shakes Fazahd's hand, "Well met, Masterbuilder. I am Kaj, as Ga'Elian said." He holds on to the offered hand, his mind drifting momentarily. "I had heard your name, and thought perhaps at some point you could enchant something for us? But we can speak of it when you are less occuppied." He smiles and scratches at his chin.

"But--"

"Large predator. Not ssafe." Svarshan lifts his son, on-armed, onto a broad shoulder. The sith-makar continue to talk amongst themselves--they keep a safe but comfortable distance from the softskins, as their kind is wont to do. With the example Charn set for the rest of the world, or the danger of Am'shere itself, such reactions aren't unusual.

"You're here! I am invinciiiiible!"

...with that, the delegation comes to a stop. Rapid-fire conversation egg in the old tongue, and somewhere in the middle of it, the egg tender steps forward towards the boy. Many gestures are made between the child and the griffon. The one in merchant's colors faces outwards, eyes bright as he or she takes in the proceedings.

Ga'Elian turns his sttention meanwhile back to his companion, then to the Sith-makar entourage. He bows his head and says, "Good day, my lord. Thine younglings are quite welcome to play with Erithamiel. He rather seemeth to be enjoying himself with the other children. Well trained, he is."

Yelrona has connected.

"I only build devices, I'm afraid," Fazahd says with a shake of his head. "I can /craft/ fine weapons and armor, but I'm afraid I cannot enchant it." He looks to Svarshan, and waves him over. "Paladin! It is good to see you, brother!"

Work crews are threading between the growing crowds, moving to a square of sidewalk that has been marked off with metal fencing; a large hole has been drilled there, and they carry a sleek, dark ironwood caber between them.

GAME: Ga'Elian rolls Acrobatics: (1)+7: 8 (EPIC FAIL)

Ga'Elian then looks back and says, "They seems about to erect the first any moment now." He jumps up to the top of a barrel where he can see above the assembling crowds, but catches his foot and is jerked onto his face instead. "Ow."

"Peasse to you, hunter, Craftspriest. It iss good to--" and the aphasia-cursed brightscale cannot decide which to answer first. Bring a father, he of course, of course decides to answer the one about his son.

Who he totally does not have a handy haversack full of pictures of.

"We are teaching him. Caution. ...three yearss," Svarshan says, holding up as many fingers. A light glimmers in coal-dark eyes, a slow but definitely there humor, expecting as though they might recognize what trouble a three-year could cause.

He's interrupted by the brightly-dressed merchant caste among their group, who steps forward. "I am given to undersstand this is a demonsstration if...artifice? By a priesst?" he or she states. Just the barest hint of a lisp in their words, a translation so carefully studied. For a moment, the conversation of the small delegation stops, then continues in a lower tone. Svarshan nods towards them, and steps back to stand near his son. To someone familiar with them, the gesture would read: right now, the merchant-caste speaks.

Kaj nods to Fazahd, "Understood, Masterbuilder," he offers, while he almost absentmindedly reaches down & over to pick up Ga'Elian with one hand, making sure he's on his feet before he lets go. "Careful, Master Ga'Elian," he offers, unhelpfully. Then, he suddenly remembers the barrels. "I must deliver these two, then I will return." He has just said this when Svarshan arrives. "Brightstar, peace be upon you!" he says, clearly thrilled to see the Paladin, even as he shrugs the barrels back to each shoulder.

Until recently, Yelrona had been performing out in front of Tarien's Temple, entertaining passersby and encouraging their donations. But the crowd was slim pickings this afternoon, and after a while she decided to find out why. It wasn't difficult to determine... the event at the edge of the warehouse district was more than visible from where she was, and became practically overwhelming as she approached. Overhearing some familiar voices, she makes her way to join the group. She's not entirely sure what's going on, though she's read some fliers. Still, people seem to be having fun.

Kaj has disconnected.

"A demonstration by a priest who is also a student of artifice," Fazhad says with a nod, and he claps a fist against his breast. "We'll be lighting up vital areas of the district, you see. For public safety and increased commerce." He peers past the group to the workmen, pursing his lips. "...yes, it looks like the ceremonial pole is ready - please, excuse me, gentlemen. I'm going to have to go and make a speech." He says this with all the joy of someone about to deliver a eulogy, mind.

Ga'Elian shakes himself off, and rubs his sore chin. "I thank thee, Kaj. That will probably leave a bruise." As the enormous man excuses himself he bids, "Pleasure to meet thee." He then smiles as Yelrona approaches amidst the crowds. He gestures over to her. "Rona, over here."

Yelrona arrives in time to overhear Fazahd's explanation. "Well, _that_ won't go over too well with the nightcrew around here," she comments idly. On spotting Erithamiel being mobbed by local children, she adds to Ga'Elian "You should offer them rides. It will give their parents heart attacks, but the children will love you forever. Or, well, will love Erithamiel, anyway."

In response to Fazahd, the merchant-caste thumps her tail once, before rejoining the sith-makar delegation.

"The griffon'ss really really big!" the small boy is whispering, not-quietly at all. He clutches at his dad's (Svarshan's) armor. This small, sith-makar boy stands in the middle of the small group of his people. Aside from the child, there are two of the warrior-caste, an egg tender and the merchant. Their clothing and armor--or lack thereof, indicates their caste and role within the tribes. This group is off to the side, just slightly.

Ga'Elian offers, "Milord, if thou wilt consent, 'twould be mine honor to take thy son for a very short ride. We would stay whither thou couldst watch, and I would lend him the use of my ring, just in case ought were to befall us unexpectedly." He removes the golden ring from his finger. As he hold is out, the intricate design of feathers engraved into it can be seen.

Presently, Fazahd gains the podium, and the music fades. He looks out across the group, looking like a carven statue given life - really, for one so young, he seems to have the mystical power to multiply his years' worth of severity and gravitas by many factors. Maybe it's just a priest's ability. He collects himself, closes his eyes for a moment...and when he speaks again, proceeds to speak in a voice that reaches clear across the the Tormawr. Boy has /pipes./

"People of Alexandria, visitors, and honored guests," he begins, addressing as if from the pulpit, "I thank you for coming to this unveiling. As you know, this district is a double-edge sword; it is vital for commerce, but it also breeds a great deal of crime and violence in its backstreets. For years, it has been a place only for the rough and well-armed after dark, and would have fallen to anarchy were it not for the brave efforts of the City Guard and the adventuring public."

Yelrona chuckles. "He says 'anarchy' like it's a _bad_ thing," she says to anyone listening.

Most sith-makar children die within a year of hatching, and Charn's acts leave their people less trusting of the outside world. Enslavement, bloodselling--enough that a cold war exists between the two nations. Indeed, it has the sith-makar fighting to be recognized AS a nation, to fight off Charn's predation on the international stage. It even led to 'that incident' in Khazad Duin, between the Empress' envoy, and Charn's own.

So, well... Ga'Elian's offer generates a buzz, a mixture of trade and draconic, before the egg tender-caste draws the three-year old close. "He iss young. Let him make ssuch decisions when he is older." He pauses. "But thank you." Voices are kept low, as the softskin shaman is now speaking.

"We are here to ssee the ceremony. Perhapss you could tell uss more about it? When the sshaman iss done?" suggests the merchant-caste in low-tones. Solid tail-thumps are offered during the speech.

Ga'Elian puts his ring back on and bows slightly, saying, "Well said, lady." He winks at the lad, then turns to watch Fazahd's speech, but distracted the way someone with ADHD would, looking frequently elsewhere.

Fazahd looks out across the crowd. "Many of you know me as someone who delivers aid to the poor and indigent - charity is something that I find deeply satisfying, as well as something that Father Reos demands of his priesthood. We of Khazad-Duin have a saying that rings down the ages, handed down by the Father and then from every Khazad father to his children: we work together, we build together, we grow strong together. Apart, we are the rough alloy that must be forged together in the flames of adversity - the forge that life continually stokes - and made into strong alloy. So is Alexandria strong, and this is my contribution to a city and people which has embraced me without a blink of an eye, despite the strangeness of my name or my upbringing.

Meanwhile, the workmen are putting up the pole, the top of which is crowned with a large mana lamp with brazen shields and worked exquisitely in bronze and iron in Khazadi style.

"Let this lamp be the first that adds to the greater light of Alexandria - safety, commerce, and more importantly, the bonds of community. As it is said in the great Book of Tazhgrad, let there...be light!"

As soon as it is brought into place, the priest gestures toward the lamp with a small device in his hand; set and mounted all at once, a brilliant blue-white glow - visible even in the light of day - flares to life within its cylindrical crystal bulb.

Well. Good thing he's not running for office, right? Applause follows.

The band picks back up, music happens, people clap and chatter, and Fazahd gets off the podium as swiftly as possible because oh god, speeches. He gestures for more work crews to come in, and they do in a small river, bearing ironwood posts and carrying lamps. Not screwing around, apparently. A detatchment of Guard go with them, but security is hardly lacking here. Fazahd walks back to the lot of you. "...sorry about that," he says. "I hope I did all right."

Yelrona says, "You were lovely. Very inspiring."

Several pairs of reptilian eyes narrow, while others stare. After a startled moment, there's a thumping of tails from the group of sith-makar. More conversation breaks out, after an appreciable pause.

...after another, the group will make their way (slowly, and at a careful distance) around the pole, to examine it. Their eyes reflect the light, inhuman atop scaled maws.

Among them, Svarshan walks along with his son. He glances towards the priest, and smiles before leaning down to answer a question.

Ga'Elian shrugs and looks back at Erithamiel before following along to look at the new lamppost, all the while bracing his rapier and flail from smacking into others as he wends his way into and through the crowd. He looks the post over, then returns back by his companion withou much ado.

After they've made the rounds, the sith make their way over. The merchant-caste is in the lead, and stops a close ways away. "Pease to you. It was a pleassure watching the demonstration." The brightly colored one thumps a tail to accent the words. Then, the small group makes their way off, child kept towards the center. A child who keeps tugging at his dad's armor.

Clearly, there's a lot to talk about. Artifice! Change to the city! ...and Reosian acts.

Svarshan has left.

Yelrona doesn't pay too much attention to the pole itself... magical lights are not an especially unusual thing in her experience, though she can certainly understand their importance to humans and others with impaired night-vision. "More efficient than enchanting all the humans' eyes to see better at night, I suppose. But do you think the local thieves will leave it up overnight?"

"Thank you, very much." Fazahd smiles and bows his head to the Sith-Makar delegation, and then wonders if that's..going to be it. Nobody's even tried to kill him yet. He was expecting someone to try and kill him. Then Yelrona speaks, and he looks over at her with a mild smile. It doesn't look right on him, that smile. "I'm sure they'll try."

Ga'Elian says, "Thou hast a talent for speaking. Didst thou work long to prepare thine words, or came they to thee in natural flow?"

Fazahd blinks at Ga'Elian and shakes his head. "Oh, I try not to practice speeches," he says. "I'm pompous enough as it is."

Yelrona chuckles at Fazahd's response. Both of them, really. "So, what then? Stand guard over the lights all night?"

Ga'Elian smirks, "Possibly a by-product of dwelling among the Khazadi." He lightly smacks Fazahd on the shoulder.

"They are shielded and electrified," Fazahd says to Yelrona. "Anyone tampering with a lamp will not do so without considerable harm to themselves." He peers faintly at Ga'Elian and frowns. "Perhaps."

Yelrona nods. "Well, that should certainly take care of it, then," she replied, not entirely sincerely. "It's not like those whose careers involve working in the dark are skilled at bypassing such defenses."

Ga'Elian thinks back to some of the shifty tricks he's witnessed Yelrona do in the recent past and chuckles knowingly. "I frankly doubt that they'll concern themselves overmuch about the lights. Overall, such things may shift the dynamics of crime a bit, but 'tis much like squeezing a sack of grain, if thou squeeze here, it expandeth there. In the balance, methinks it shall be a good thing."

"True," Fazahd says with a shrug. "But the increased Guard traffic and number of witnesses will certainly keep that away. This isn't a measure meant to /end/ the dark trades in the warehouse district - I'm not egotistical to think that. It's containment." He nods to Ga'Elian. "Exactly. I'm more interested in keeping people safe, not necessarily ending crime. I am not a member of the Guard. I do not have that authority."

Yelrona nods. "Makes sense. Frankly I'm not sure the Guard does, either. They just, as you say," nodding to Ga'Elian, "move it around from place to place."

Ga'Elian looks back at the swolen, but slightly thinning crowd. "Speaking of increased guard traffic, I should probably go spend a day guarding the Ygdrassil tree again soon. I've not done it much lately, and the daemon infestation hither seemeth to have cooled of late. But first, I suppose those kids have played long enough with Erithamiel."

"Do take care," Fazahd says to Ga'Elian with a nod. "And yes, you are of course correct, lady. The struggle between law and chaos, good and evil, is - as they say - real. But I must attend to the celebration. I hope that you enjoy yourself, and I bid you good evening." And with that, the priest goes back to the crowd, where somewhere down the street, another light winks on...