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A Strange Encounter on pay day

Started by Mepotepo, September 29, 2014, 07:09:09 PM

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Rowan Llyri-laer

"Calla is many years old...but she has never heard of...of fucking..." The girl admitted as she shrunk down in her seat. A few moments would pass by as a perplexed nymph sat in silence before her eyes suddenly lit up in realization, "Oh! Is it like when the does and bucks have fawns? Or the birds with their eggs? Calla knows what that is..."

Mepotepo

"Sure, lass, ye've pretty much got what I mean, as odd a choice o'words as that may be!" He rose from his stool after draining his two flagons and clapped one hefty hand on Calla's slender shoulder. "Now! I believe I said ye'd be drinkin' this afternoon, wee one, yet I've not seen ye take a swig yet! What d'ye say, gents?!" He slammed his palms into the backs of the patrons on either side of him, "Pretty li'l thing gettin' some drink in 'er, sound good, eh?!"

Rowan Llyri-laer

Calla eyed the two heavily-intoxicated men on either side of the strange, stubby man. He seemed to have an arrogance that made up for his small stature. "Calla... Calla meant that she would drink water or...tea...or um...sap! Not that smelly liquid her friend Angar drinks..." The girl wrapped her knit shawl around her arms in a protective matter and attempted to scoot away from the dwarf (with only the space of her tiny stool) to avoid having to guzzle down anything that the dwarf was demanding she drink.

The toes of her feet grazed the sawdust-littered floor as she attempted to scoot, however, and the girl instantly winced, as though in pain. "The ground is so dead here... Calla cannot feel the earth. She does not like it very much..."

Mepotepo

"Dead?" the dwarf asked, distracted by the small creature's sudden exclamation. "You're wrong, littlun, take a look here." Whatever effects the liquor had had on Angar seemed to dissipate as he spoke. He knelt, careful not to hover over anything but the floor itself, and removed a glove. "Ye see the stone here, long-legs? 'tis separated from the Earth, to be sure, but merely to serve a purpose in the second stages of its life. A beautiful thing, ain't she? From the north, if I ain't mistaken; she's cold, y'see, even with all these torches and bumblin' drunks." He reached to retrieve the girl's hand and, despite her wince, pulled her down so her palm met the same stone. "Not dead, just different."

Rowan Llyri-laer

"N-Not dead?"
Calla felt the cool surface of the stone beating with life (in its own way) beneath her palm. It felt solid and stiff, unlike the fluid feel of the earth and soil that she was so accustomed to.
"Calla has always been fond of pebbles and rocks but she had never realized it was so similar to the other parts of the wild..."
Her sparkly doe eyes slowly tilted upward to meet the gaze of the dwarf, a tiny smile crossing her lips, "She is grateful that her friend Angar showed her this." The girl's teeny nose wrinkled a bit, "...But she still would rather not have a drink."
With that, she took a quick glance around the room and leaned in close to whisper, "The people of this inn do not look very fond of Calla..."

Mepotepo

"Bah! 'Tis just as well! Bunch o'half-witted, drunken louts in there anyway. No place for gentle-lookin' long legs like yerself!" The dwarf rose to his feet, downed the contents of the nearest three mugs, and dropped a handful of gold coins on the bar. "I'll be seein' ye around, girly! Keep me stool warm and these bastards outta yer bed!" With that, the crusty little man exited the bar, assuming the nymph would follow suit.
Clapping his hands on the small of his back, he stretched, cracking a few vertebrae, and yawned. "Where to? I'm not as drunk as I'd usually like to be at this hour, but that ain't necessarily a bad thing yet!"

Rowan Llyri-laer

Calla turned to look at Angar and then gasped as she saw small flurries floating outside the foggy windows of the inn, "Angar... Oh, look! It is snowing, Angar!" She scurried outside the inn and onto the front steps, her bare feet buried in at least an inch of snow. The air had chilled during the early twilight, but it didn't seem to phase the nymph. Did she even feel the cold?
"Calla just loves the snow... It is so beautiful... And sparkly!"
She peaked back into the inn; the door she had kept wide open all throughout her banter, sending the freezing air right into the room. Her eyes were directed toward Angar as well as the other occupants of the tavern, only their gaze was one of anger and threat. He was the one that had brought the she-beast into the place after all.

Mepotepo

"Ah humbug, ye fucks," he mumbled at the various disgruntled drinkers, waving his hand to rid himself of their complaints.
"Snow it is, eh?" Angar marched through the door and into the covered road, plopping onto his rear the second he had enough space. "It'll be good to feel it on me skin again!" he started, as he began removing his boots. "Ain't felt it 'tween me toes since I was a wee dwarfling!"
When he was finally done, the stout fellow rose to his feet and pressed his toes deep into the snow.

Rowan Llyri-laer

Calla giggled as she observed the dwarf remove his shoes and release his (quite smelly) feet, "Calla still has not understood why humans and dwarves wear clothing on their feet... It is a strange custom to her." She smiled and twirled around as snow gathered in clumps on her antlers. Nothing but a thin shawl covered her fair arms.
Suddenly, the girl stopped and looked to her newfound friend, "Where does Angar live? Does he not have a family?"

Mepotepo

"Ain't got the time for none o'that, girly. Once me ma and pa passed on, I took the house. Houses cost money, ale costs money; who needs a family when ye get to fight for coin every day, that's what I say!" Almost as if to punctuate his exclamation, Angar brought a handful of snow to his lips and took a gigantic bite from it. "Delicious! Nothin' like the mountains, but it's got its own flair."

Rowan Llyri-laer

The girl tilted her head a bit, eyebrow quirked as the dwarf munched on the snow as though it were a sandwich. What a strange custom...even in the eyes of a nymph.

"Doesn't Angar ever become lonely?" She twiddled her thumbs around one of the silvery threads hanging from her shawl, "Calla has never has a family all her own, but the other nymphs and the ents and satyrs and sprites of the wood were like a family to her. Only... Calla does not believe Angar would be very fond of that sort of company."

Mepotepo

"Lonely?" the dwarf repeated, dropping his handful of snow as if shocked by the question. His gaze dropped to the ground as he mulled the question over and his features seemed to droop in a sort of gloomy melancholy. "Bah!" he exploded out of his reverie, "Who gets lonely when ye've got a nice blade and a nice mead at yer side, eh? Hah!"
He walked past Calla, gingerly clapping his hand on her lower back.

Rowan Llyri-laer

The nymph jumped like a startled deer as she felt a meaty, calloused hand slap against her back.
"Calla does not very much like mead or blades..." She admitted, snowbells creeping up from the snow, around her ankles. The girl then twirled around and frolicked a few feet through the snow.
The grouping of trees before the pair were made into silhouettes against the darkening winter sky. A snowy owl, it appeared, flew right over Calla's antlers. She paused to inhale the crisp evening air before returning her gaze to the dwarf, "What does Angar do for money?"

Mepotepo

The question hung in the air as Angar watched the owl fly overhead. He sniffed the air and his eyes searched various corners and alleyways while never losing sight of the bird. "Somethin' ain't right, girl, keep yer head-" he cut himself off, however, when he pulled his hefty blade from his back and cleaved the owl in two as it flew back overhead. "Hah! Gotcha, ye flighty bastard!"

Rowan Llyri-laer

Calla stared down at the bloodied body of the arctic creature, her eyes wide with horror. Almost immediately brambles and briers grew up from the girl's ankles and through the snow. Nightshade and hogsweed... All the jagged and poisonous plants of the realms. Her eyes immediately darted leftward to meet the cheeky dwarf. Her usual pale lavender-blue eyes seemed to have a almost magenta tint to them, as though they were glowing with rage. Her tender voice, though not angry, was trembling just as her slender form was, "W-What have you done..." The grouping of trees surrounding them seemed to lean in threateningly toward Angar, as though they were answering her silent calls.

Mepotepo

Angar didn't even seem to notice the looming threat posed by the surrounding flora, or even that there was, in fact, a rapidly growing amount of it. The small dwarf was grinning like a child during a carnival, gore splattered on his cheeks and in his scraggly beard. When finally he turned to regard the ever more threatening nymph, the grin vanished, replaced by a look more confused than anything.
"Ye got a problem, girly? The fat bastard was aimin' for me head, didn't ye see?" He turned and walked toward the split creature's corpse and spit on it, "Good riddance, I say!"
As Angar began wiping the blood and feathers from his gargantuan blade, the creature's corpse began to dissolve into a hot steam which deposited not the body of an owl, but rather that of a gutted man in a nondescript brown robe.

Rowan Llyri-laer

Calla narrowed her eyes, her expression mirroring that of the dwarf for a second before she looked down to see the body of the owl shimmer into that of a man. The plants around her ankles stopped growing at once and the girl squeaked like a mouse as she hopped back away from the gruesome site.
"W-What... Calla does not... She does not understand..."

Mepotepo

"What's not to understand, littlun?" The dwarf meandered toward the steaming corpse, a wide grin decorating his features. "It's another one o'these fuckin' drood fools, been huntin' me since I was knee high on a wyvern." He knelt to rifle through the man's robes, clearly searching for something in particular.
"Ah!" he exclaimed, yanking forth a small scroll, "Knew it! Bastards' are still wantin' me for research!"

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