Some really fun, relaxed RP that ended up involving corpses and rats. :)

 

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-<* Nar i-Nenesse Dam *>--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

    Nar i-Nenesse dam has stood the test of time, stress and intrigue. Although it has been refurbished and reinforced several times, it retains its original shape and design, its dwarven stonework recognizeable as high quality even at a distance. Streams of water pour out of the sluices of the dam over wooden wheels which turn under the pressure. These man-made waterfalls empty into the Silver Flood region of the docks, creating a thunderous roar that can make it difficult to hear anything else. If there's no fog, the huge expanse of Brightwater Bay can be seen to the south, often under a rainbow created by the mist of the falls.

    There are relatively few businesses and homes here due to the noise and the perpetual dampness. However, goblins and others work on the machines harvesting the power of the river and fishermen often press their luck and ply their trade dangerously close to the cascading water, so a few shabby taverns and eateries line the waterfront catering to those individuals.

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 Darshan         Mechagodzilla                                         0s   9m

 Jenner          Sailor Mage! Also not fragile.                        1m   22m

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= Exits -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

Commerce District <E>     Artemllys Lake <N>       

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It's Kesenday, Hattanani 01 20:12:05 1006. The full moon is up. The tide is high and rising.

Fair weather clouds sail across the blue sky, propelled by light breezes from the west. It's warm in the sun, cool in the shade, and the air is clear and dry.

The dam's a feat of modern engineering-steam rises from its structure, propelled by light breezes from the west. Darshan sits on the bank, watching the goblins walk about, crank about, toddling with their expansive, metallic structures. The bay stretches ahead, its glistening surface ruffled by the wind, thousands of pieces of glinting sunshine under technology's churning sway.

The sweet shine of days, the sun a great stone cast into the eternal blue of the heavens... Clouds skid across the sky like ripples in a pool, and the mist soaring from the waters at the base of the great Nar i-Nenesse sworl onward, upward, reaching aloft in silken tendrils; the scent of river waters and quicksilver streams scent the air with potent spikes of faint salt, the hint of ocean spray.   

But it is not the goblin engineers that cause that subtle twinge in misty effects, the particular shape that seperates itself from the water, drifting ever-so-lazily across the waters. A drifting cloud taking the shape of a man, drifting across the bay's surface towards the bank...

Darshan stops mid-yawn, and stretches, rises, the slow movement of someone who isn't sure what he sees. A slow movement followed by a reflexive twitch of claws, of tail, and the neck strains forward to allow the eyes to see. "Mrmmm..." he mutters, and looks down to the eyes a goblin, who--tink tink! blinks back, before rushing on to bobble off to some delivery.

The mist moves in that lazy, drifting fashion, pausing here and there, swirling as the wind catches at its edges, leaving silent frays. Quiet driftings.... And then, focus. The misty man-shape moves again, this time with a greater speed; a swirl on the air as it molds itself into various ways, means, and the hint of ocean salt and sea spray is that much stronger as the quicksilver mist drifts up to the water's edge, across it, out to the bank itself.   

"....Darshan?" comes that whispery, breathy voice. "....did you bother Sssandy again?"

Darshan squints--and jars backwards. A stumble-step back onto the bank. "You..." he starts to say, and then it's the comment of the day, "You look different," slow, solemn. He reaches out, to poke the mist with his claws.

The goblin continues his journey, though he's walking backwards, now. Staring, and attempting to carry a crate all at once.

The mist swirls in distinctive pulses, a windy flicker that sounds suspiciously like laughter. "Those would be my words," comes the billowing bemusement, "And tis my specialty..." Light plays out as the mist coellesces, gathering into itself; sea wind solidifies with a creak like ships' cables, tightening down until the flickering form of the mage himself stands out, emerging into a solid whole.   

"But just because *I* get all air-headed doesn't mean you get to start glueing armor to you..." Jenner says, shifting back to human frame. "Now... Talk! You look like...." He pauses. "Well, you look very different!"

Whirlpool has arrived.

"You like it?" the sith sounds pleased, and turns stiffly this way and that to show it off. Heavy, metallic, it fits closely--too closely, in a way that armor could be, but often isn't. "One finished it the other day...I would tell you how, but I'm afraid I celebrated too long afterwards," wry. The sith's eyes glint with a quiet humor. He and Jenner stand on the banks, the wind slowly pushing the dam-steam across. And the latter, just having come from it, transformed from steam to energy and back again. And now stands there, smoking his pipe.

Smoky puffs rise as the mage snorts with laughter, the last faint tendrils of river mist drifting from his frame. He spares a glance towards the goblin, wide-eyed staring at metal lizard and misty mage. "Well, what? Get on with you! It's not as though you haven't seen a wizard before!" A moment's pointed glare is left on the goblin (who takes his leave a bit quickly!), before turning back to Darshan with a closer eye.   

"Hmmm...." he says quietly, thoughtfully. "I'm not honestly a connisseur of things armored, my friend," he says, evaluating the metallic sheath carefully. "...but I'd call it incredible, at the least. That *is* worksmanship!"

Darshan beams. The look could light up the sky, really. He's /proud/ of his armor, if ever a paladin had a sin, a secret (or not so secret) obsession, this would be listed number eight on the classic scale. "It's an accomplishment," he says, trying to sound modest. Failing. The tail flickers, too. "...you've had something to eat?" he asks, and then pauses, waiting a moment, reflecting, before dropping a bombshell, "Mrm...Ganesa is trying to get to the front lines again. ...she has hatched...she has hatched a plan."

Jenner chuckles around his pipe, eyes twinkling as he grins. "I'm working on that," he says casually, though not without a brief sigh. "She's getting better at dodging my eye, though. It's becoming a game-- "Hide and Seek". Only this time, it concerns wine barrels and veils and chests..." He shakes his head, rubbing his brow with a grimace. "She almost made it out the gates last week, hiding in a courier box of all things!"

"A cou--...," slowly, the words reflective and inquisitive. Darshan tilts his head towards the mage, regarding him a while before straightening, and...reconsidering. His features are as one recalling a lesson unpleasant, an old memory of bitter pain. "Mrm...there have been...changes. M'lady has taken on a charity, a gathering of...horses she wishes to bring horses to the front lines for the soldiers." Another pause, a look towards Jenner. "That might have mrm, been part of the delivery. She's snuck out there once before." Concern, the faintest trace of anger, irritation at the child.

The mage nods his own head, a wince on his features. "So I've been told," he says quietly, "At great length and in no uncertain terms. I think the Lady believes I've been telling one too many stories about high adventure, and giving our young miss ideas." Brushing his hands together, Jenner shakes his head ruefully. "Makes me think about attaching a familiar to the girl, just to keep an eye on her..... or something!" He pauses, thinking for a moment. "Doesn't she have a hound? What was it's name...."

"She did..." says the sith slowly, and flicks his tail quick, sudden. "I haven't seen him in a while." He takes a step towards the bank, intending to walk, and the gesture offers the mage to do the same. It comes with a wry smile, almost wistful as he looks out onto the see, "...I don't think it's you. I think she's just impatient to grow up. Her...aunt traveled. Once," quietly, uneasily. A secret that isn't a secret. "She led...erm, forces, explored the jungle. It must be hard to have that in your blood and sit prettily tending mrm, napkins."

Jenner's own smile is wry as he falls into step alongside, boots crunching in the sand. "The dictates of responsibility," he muses, quiet blue-grey smoke rising on the wind. He swirls his finger up into the streamer, hooking it and tugging it down around his wrist with a flicker of faint gold. "Perhaps it isn't me, but I certainly felt the most convenient target for her ire... Perhaps she and Ganesa should visit--" He raises a hand, to forestall an outburst. "To the careful areas, contained and relatively safe. Or perhaps just a trip to somewhere safer still... Rune, perhaps?"

Flicker. A lash of tail. "Rune..." mused. "It isn't safe...those elves came here. I told you?" he asks, and walks along. "I think they lost interest now that Myara disappeared. She was cackling last I saw her. I don't know who to be worried for the most," wry. He drops his hands to his sides--'to the back' works less well now, and the armor breathes, shhhk'ing with steps. "But sending her...somewhere. An airship, dangling in the sky?" The sith's imagination doesn't extend to exotic prisons, but excitement traces its way in. He clears his throat. Then, "She'd find a way out. Like that...ah..." think, "The hero. With the mrm, fancy shoes."

The grin grows for a minute, a breath of relish taking wing. "Al-Kuwat-il-Jawiia," the mage says with pleasure, "The Sky Walker. My inspiration for Kylie's footwear..." His grin trails away as he shifts through the firmer sand, crunch of footing far less than the Makar's own. "Yes, she probably would at that. Gods, but she'd be a terror in any place of schooling!" Lithe fingers flex around his staff, bringing it up to his shoulder to hang, less a staff than a walking stick.   

"Though perhaps that itself might be the very thing. A trip to Veyshan, to see the land of all those stories firsthand." He smiles wryly once again, glancing back with a snort. "However, one or both of us would be going along with her, I'm sure. They would never take such a trip without at least one of us along!"

"I've heard stories of Veyshan," slow, like he's...thinking. Dreaming, as he walks. "It's warm." And that's the summary of the matter. Darshan glances over as another goblin hurries past, wearing too-big goggles, scurrying on giant, sandal-shod feet and carrying a crate of miscellaneous, metallic parts.

"We should go," then, more firmly. "They have...mrm. It's a dark land, but not so much. It could not be so bad as Sendor, not right now. The world will be distracted for a while."

Jenner's thoughts drift in their own turn, a companionable silence as he considers the Makar's words. "It's very warm," he says in way of agreement, finers twirling idly with the blue tendril of pipe smoke, absently weaving it into the semblance of a snake. "A place of politics and contrasts... And dangers." Bright eyes turn towards the dam and its mists, the slow thunder rumbling up underfoot. "But no less than Alexandria, as things progress. And should the worst befall...."   

His voice becomes quiet, soft and low. "Should the worst occur, then our charges will be safely away from danger, with hope and luck."

"Alexandria becomes stranger the mrm, more I know of it. Did you know--" the sith trails off, and his expression crashes down. He looks away, towards the dam and the climbing, clambering goblins. "...mrm. I'd find myself inclined to mrm, visit. One heard they...worship djinn there, and...not the gods. That some are so arrogant..." the paladin stiffens, flickers his tail, "They claim the bloodline of these 'gods' in their blood. As the sith'makar, but they...'grew up.' They have their technology, their mrm, worldly views. But their souls never did."

"A land of spirits, sand, and sorcerers." Jenner remarks with a quip from a tale, nodding as he plods along. "Not to mention slaves, sun, and storms of magical savagery. Tis a land where elements clash, where the balance of things tilts like a child's top, ever-spinning. Not to mention a certain hubris..." He grins, glancing over at his scaled companion. "Claiming the blood of divinity is a fashionable thing, I am afraid. The gods haven't directly said no to it, so everyone with a lick of self-importance claims it to be!"

"I would see them," after a while. And a wry, quiet smile, "Do mrm, /you/ claim such a title? ...I couldn't picture it. I would imagine you'd pine for...something else," and he looks away again, Darshan does. Towards the goblins. They move like ants over the structure, building, building...constructing. Repairing. Oiling gears and turning them. "So what's this...'economics?'" suddenly. And coining a word Ganesa'd been waving about lately, like a magic...well. Like an important word.

Jenner casts Darshan a quiet look, momentarily shadowed before he takes up the offered outing. "Economics... Something new the merchanteers have been discussing of late. The study of, in all seriousness, "money"." A chuckle snakes up in the air at that, and Jenner releases his tiny smoke-construct, to unravel on the air as he walks along. "Studying money as though it were artifice, or the fine art of magic. They claim that buying and selling has some sort of riddle or rule to it, and that it actually can be mastered much as swordplay could. What a concept!"

The metal clanks to a halt--suddenly, and Darshan stares at him, stares before slowly starting again. That slow, easy walk in armor, quiet, a relaxation to go with the easier day and time. "Money...buying and mrm, selling?" he asks, like he doesn't quite believe it. And then a more thoughtful, keener look towards Jenner. "The lemonade stand," suddenly. "But mrm, surely a lemonade stand isn't a..." pause. Reconsider. "it's just a toy," and he says it as though he suddenly expects this 'lemonade stand,' this 'economics' to be some sort of fiendish weapon.

"And this," Jenner says gently, holding his staff up in front of him. "Is no more than a stick. But if someone used it appropriately, could it not cause terrible harm? Broken limbs, shattered skulls, crushed chests..." He hefts the rosewood quietly, settling it back to his shoulder with care. "Because something is not a weapon now, doesn't mean that someone couldn't find a way to make it such later." He closes his eyes, thoughts clouded. "Maybe someone should study this "economics" more closely. Though how one could use money as a weapon, I can't imagine. What, buy all the metal? All the fish? Hoard stones?" He snorts again, ruefully. "Economics. A thing for over-gluttonous dragons, I'd say!"

Darshan opens his mouth, closes it, and--sneezes. A hissing starts, like steam, a laugh that eventually shakes his whole form. Even the armor--it responds slowly, but responds as skin would, abet stiff.

"Dragons?" sputtered. "You've mrm, seen the breakfast table, haven't you," remarked, wry. "Mrmmm...m'lady's taken to big dinners, lately. Charities. One has had...fish. With spices from Veyshan," slowly, the words rolling over them with the strangeness of it. "They're very..."

A word, a word..."Salty."

Jenner snerks, casting Darshan a sharp eye. "You may be covered in metal," he says, "But you're still a great lizard, I swear it. I hope all this doesn't mean you've lost an appetite for seafood!" Humming cheerfully, he sketches a path around a bit of driftwood, a branch from across the lake. "And yes, dragons. As the stories say, anyway. Gathering everything they can get their hands on, great piles of gold and glitter and jewels and prettiness and shining things, oh yess....!"   

He tilts his head, doing that "tongue flicker" (complete with suspiciously serpentine tongue) as his eyes twinkle with mischief. "I'm perfectly well shocked that the Makar don't collect such things. Or maybe they do..." He taps the broad metal shoulder with his staff, grinning. "And just collect more sensible things instead!"

Well, that...stops him. He stops walking for an instant--the shhhk-shh of the armor signals when he starts again, and Darshan...stares. "Why don't they..." he shakes his head. "Mrm, why don't they? One...I don't know. One was told...we were...crafted. From the darker dragons for their armies. We owe the Silver far more than our lives," silence, the slow move of tail. "...I don't know," and he really doesn't. "Even if we came from.../them/, it's a...universal trait. Mrm. Isn't it?"

The mage shakes his head quietly, thoughts stealing through the air. "I'm afraid I don't know the answer to that one, Darshan. Perhaps there's more to it than simply collecting things that glimmer and glow. After all, Kylie certainly has draconic ancestors..." Shudder! "And she doesn't chase down everything that shimmers like a great magpie. Unless one counts her animals!"

"..." he starts to say a thing, Darshan does, and reconsiders. A second, closer look towards the mage. "But mrm...one would think..." he looks down at the armor. A flick, slow, of the tail. "They say dragons are creatures of...strong...drives. Collections. Could that be..." how does he word this? "...eccentrics, as well? My mrm, people decorate with feathers. Paint, quills, tortoise shells. But there's no--there's no metal," finally.

Jenner smiles innocently, pipe smoke wheeling in the air. "And here I thought you all did such things to impress one another," he remarks casually, trying to keep that half-grin away from sith eyes. "Like peacocks, all strutting and bedecked in feathered finery to attract the wistful gazes of the fairer sex!" He strides along, taking a longer step in his mischief. "Ah, but you're probably correct. Just silly thoughts from my head, eh?"

A smile almost, almost makes its way there. "...we do. Mrm...Rawsone offered to go with me to Am'shere, to hunt something to..." long, long pause. The smile's there, now, "...attract one." A quick look at Jenner, "I don't think they'll be interested, now. And I can say I've found more...satisfaction in what I'm doing than mrm, ever in Am'shere," the words are...well, they stand, and he scrapes a set of claws over armor. "...it...doesn't make me much of a spokesperson, mrm, if ever one was supposed to be one. I would advocate too much change." A pause. "Even if the...technology one uses is ancient. Dangerous, and ancient."

Jenner laughs quietly, smiling as he drops back, giving the steel-plated shoulder a pat. "Don't sell yourself short in that regard, just yet. If it is something you feel drawn to one day, then I am certain it will come. After all, Daeus is quite the creature of sunlight and armor himself. He is most certainly married; why would he restrict you from the same?" His grins returns to its mischievious nature, a spark shooting across playfully. "And if he did, you could always ask Althea to intervene on your behalf. I'm certain she'd have a few words!"

"...one mrm...holds a healthy...respect...for the Altheans," says the sith'makar wryly, and moves forward again. The armor underneath Jenner's hand clangs, but...moves. Warm, like a living thing, with Daeus-light pulsing through in metallic blood-veins. "They pretend..." and he trails off, looks back at Jenner. Oh, not directly. It's that corner-of-they-eye look. Mischief. "...weren't...you...favoring a certain one of them, mrm a time ago? If I let the huntress know, we could make the same offer." Mischief. Coyote.

Jenner is caught between keeping his fingers on the metal... LIVING METAL... And the commentary! "You," he states with a chuckle, "Have been learning strategy from the Tarienites, haven't you?" He gives the shoulder a firm pat, brushing his fingers away behind him. He leaves the staff to the air (carried along by the sudden Unseen), sighing wistfully. "And I admit.... well, yes. Just a bit. Mostly because of you, I think." He shakes his head, steps become longer, thoughtful. "I can't believe I was jealous at the dance, either. But she's just extraordinary... Those eyes! And wings. I haven't been so thoroughly besmitten since I was a young sailor."

"One danced...mrm, one wouldn't have," a pause, and the sith looks over towards the water, watches it flicker under breezes. A million pieces of sunlight. "But I...I admit. I wanted to see what you would do. For a while, I almost thought you'd challenge me," and the sith sounds proud of that. He even straightens.

"...but why wings? For mrm, me...I could see why I'd admire them. Fangs. A...good, muscular tail. But wings? You're..." human. No matter he just turned himself into mist.

"...human?" Jenner suggests, grinning good-naturedly. He closes his eyes, bowing his head as he walks quietly. "I wonder sometimes, Darshan. I wonder. After all, I have been a wolf, and a Makar, and even a dragon." He brushes his hand to his jaw, fingertips brushing across faint stubble. "Even if only a tiny one. And now I've been a cloud, breath on the air... And almost a spark of flame." Quick fingers shift to his pipe, drawing it out of his mouth as he exhales a plume of soft smoke. "I still remember pieces of all those things, those beings. Is there a place where one ends and the other begins?"

"...I think that is too much thinking," says the sith'makar after a while. "And I think we're getting near McGree's...and I think mrm, on top of all this thinking, one's stomach begins to demand notice. The mind might care for flame, or fire...but it prefers steak," a wry, amused gesture. A lifting of the frill rather than a shrug. It seems more natural on the sith'makar, and he lifts his chin, pointing towards a rickety building, barely standing and built of boards wetted by the surrounding water. The smell of fish, salt, the twist and debris of nets.

Jenner smiles, nodding as he takes a long, last draw from his pipe. "As for the wings...." He shrugs, a simple gesture. "Dar, the woman was striking as the dawn; the wings, the eyes... All a breath of the exotic. If she'd given me half an opening, I think I would have tried anything for her hand. A mage certainly has an eye for things different than the norm!" A shiver slips along his shoulders, like cold wind from the waters. "...yes. I think a steak would be just what the cleric commanded, now."

Cough. Laughter. The scent of the dock is salty, thick, rank underneath for anyone not used to it. Sea creatures, from urchins to a shark being unloaded from a boat, flopping in the net that carries it to the waiting arms of men and women below. McGree's isn't...or, it is. It stands, one ramshackle shack between here and the next place, unremarkable save for the lines, the 'decorative' nets tossed outside, and the presence of dwarves, rather than goblins.

"You sound taken," a pause, a hint of a grin, "One should offer to dance with her again." Not that it would mean a thing. But...Coyote's glint there, just a glint, and a quiet look towards Jenner.

Oh, look. There's something down there! In the water!

"I am not taken!" Jenner says gruffly, absolutely unable to keep the faint grumble from his voice."I just haven't seen her in some time. Besides, I'm certain she is consumed with her duties at the temple, and not with a mage straight from the mage's quarter." Grumble, grump!   

Pipesmoke trails to an end as he recovered the bowl from his mouth, tapping it out against a pole in passing. "And I'm certain she has more suitors coming out of the woodworks than is possible, given..." Muttering words trail off as he stalks towards the dockside, barely sparing a glance towards the waters. "...did someone just dive from the i-Nenesse?"

"A..." Darshan follows the mage's own look, and offers a shrug of his own, as slow as the walk. "...one hasn't...seen suitors. Though, there have been rumors," he says, the words trailing. And, because Jenner is Jenner, and paladins are paladins, he hangs back...a moment, before stepping forward again, and switching sides, to place himself between the mage and the goblins likely there. "Perhaps it's time to speak up, or...go mrm, hunting. The huntress taught me how to fish the other day," and the voice is so...odd. Saying that.

Whatever it is, and it's hrad to see from your position, appears to be bobbing in and out of the water. It glitters.

Sharp eyes click from the water to the Makar, glinting as they lock. "Rumours?" he asks carefully, taking his staff down from his shoulder, walking with it again. Unfortunately, discussion of steaks and fish just went on hold. "What rumours?" he asks, an eye casting back towards the glittery before returning to the Makar. "If you've heard something, Darshan.....!"

"Mrm...rumors only. By...excited acolytes. Likely wishes," the sith'makar says, and invades the mage's space, just slightly, to move him that inch or two further from the water. "Dreams...a man can dream, can't he?" the tail flicks, and a slow smile comes with it. Wry, like some secret. "Perhaps if you said a thing...you would not need to worry for rumors. She cares for children...let her see you playing with a child. Else...hit her over the head and have mrm, done with it!" a pause, "Though with us, it is usually the other way around..."

Jenner jerks to a halt, staring incredulously. "....are you suggesting I simply waylay her and drag her off by her hair? Enchant her with some mystic effect and carry her off into the distance?" The mage slaps a hand to his forehead, stunned. "Darshan, I can't go about doing that any more than I could rip a tower out of the ground, cast it into the air, and sail the world on a ship of stone!"       

Bright eyes turn towards that distant shape, staring for a moment. "I think I'll need more than a steak," he says, muttering to himself as he strides down towards the beach. "I'm going to need a drink. Or three."

The sparkly thing continues to bob up and down in the water, slowing being carried away. but slowly, at least.

"In a word, "...yes," firmly. And laughter, "Mrm, one could train you...the use of a..." he glances at the mage, to the man's arms. Clears his throat. Silence, then. Awkward, uncomfortable...silence. "Conversation," he suggests, but it's a little too late, and he pushes on into the other topic. "Fish. One mrm, hears they're experimenting...things...placed between bread. I hear they're using pieces of squid, the...arms, spiced with some sauce." BBQ Squid Burger.

"Oh, of course," Jenner says sarcastically, glowering now. "I'll just grab a club, change into something huge and hulking and apelike, beat the poor woman about the head and then drag her off to my secret castle lair, where I'll woo and court and visit the far planes and live happily ever after!" Sour indeed, as he stares out at the bobbing glitter, narrowing his eyes as he stares.   

"What *is* that...." he murmurs, the question half-asked to himself. Fingertips drum along the wood as he murmurs, a breath of wind... A flicker of bright wings suddenly igniting, flared and sharp and golden. "I'll be back in a moment," he announces, taking wing over towards the golden thing.

GAME: Jenner refreshes spells.

GAME: Jenner casts Dispel Magic.

GAME: Jenner casts Fly.

Darshan starts, and stares...and starts laughing, falling back and...hissing laughter, laughing laughter. For the moment he doesn't notice Jenner lifting up, taking off--when he does, the laughter slowly stops, grinding to a halt like mechanical cogs. And, "...ah," then, "...you are not doing that now, are you?" carefully said. He doesn't know what the man does, will do, but he straightens, and goes over that way. And...eyes the water. And...eyes Jenner.

The sparkly things are, well...it's a necklace. Apparently, a nice, golden chain with a sparkly red gem on the end of it. It's the classic ruby pendant and not the kind of thing that one just tosses into the dam.

Jenner spares a glance back towards Darshan, glowering for a heartbeat before he sighs. "No, I'm not," he says quietly, shaking his head. "It could only end badly...." A quieter beat. "...and she's worlds beyond me, I'm sure."   

Soaring on magical wings, he curves over towards the strange object, hovering above the roiling waters. The mage's eyes are caught, curiosity and surprise both wrapped together. "What...?" he begins, blinking as he casts his voice on the air anew. Unseen, mystic hands reach for the gleaming chain, gathering it with gentle care before lifting it from the waters, up towards the wizard's hand. "And whatever might you be...?"

"...goblins," Darshan says, uneasily, but with...interest. A thing like that...isn't common. It isn't usual, and he moves nearer the water's edge, watching it and watching Jenner. "Likely...some tinkerer dropped it. One doesn't...mrm, I don't think many of the nobility make their way here. Perhaps it fell off one of the ships." And he straightens from the crouch--the same, slow movement. But a movement that works. A hiss of steam.

The trinket just sort of hangs there in hand. It doesn't spontaneously kill anyone who touches it, apparently. It's just... there.

Jenner examines the necklace for a time, stirring it over in his hand. "Of all the things," he muses to himself, finally curving back towards the beach with a rush of magic-hued feathers.   

"I don't think a tinkerer would have discarded this," Jenner says, settling back to the beach with a flicker of bright gold's corona. "Fallen? Perhaps..." He gazes at it for a minute longer, shrugging before he examines it more closely. "Perhaps it has an emblem, or sign, or seal..."

Darshan leans over, regards it. "Mrm...there's likely signs posted," he says, after a time. "Someone's likely to say something, if they lost it. We could check at the station," he muses, and glances down at the mage, at the necklace. And the fin falls. Crashes. Responsibility. It's about to risk taking precedence over a nice, tasty lunch. BBQ squid burgers, I miss youuuu...

"Most likely so," Jenner remarks, twirling the bright jewel. "But I'm certain it will take time for whomever owns the necklace to place the report. Let's give them their time and finish our own business first." Opening the satchel, he slides the bright gem inside, gold and jewel secreted with a pat. "You're buying, of course. Now what was this about bread and squid?"

Mercy, thy name is lunch.

"Mrm...flavored," says the sith'makar. "They're claiming some new...spice with it. Adding..." he makes a grimace, "Onions, and placing it between chunks of bread. They're calling it, 'a complete meal you hold in your hands.' We could get those mrm, on our way," a pause, then a wry. "I suppose I'm paying, aren't I? Well, come on..." and the sith picks up the pace (which for him is just slightly), and heads towards the...ramshackle place that has the best damn overspiced seafood...well. That you can buy in lovely, lovely horse-sized buckets.

Something else begins floating along the water nearby shortly thereafter. This? Smells. Like rot.   

Because it is rotting.   

Because it's a corpse.   

Something begins floating along the water shortly thereafter. This? Smells? Like rot. Because it is rotting. Because it is a corpse. A human corpse. In the water. It floats on by.

"Ah..." the sith stops. Stops, and grabs hold of the mage's robes. "Mrm...perhaps...it already...had an owner," a look at the amulet, a look at the water. And...well, shit. Shit. The frill flattens, closes. He looks like someone about to have a very, very, very...

Bad, bad day.

"...I'll get that."

Jenner's attention is torn from the sweet, sweet promise of barbeque, out towards the water with a wince. "...I'm blaming goblins," he promises, eyes darkening. "And probably Myara, too. Let me see if I can't bring over our poor soul, there..." Stated with all the reluctance of a hound going to a fleabath, as he moves down towards the waters' edge. He takes wing as soon as he can, curving out over the water once again; murmured words, a breath, a summoned force to grasp the corpse's frame, to help guide it back to Darshan and safe, dry land.

Serene has arrived.

"Perhaps we might alert the...Vardamans," the sith says, at length. And walks over, grabbing one of the rotting nets from the side of the restaurant. Grabbing it, and ripping it free...and hauling it back down the dock. Oh, yes. A bad day. A very, very bad day, and the words...they stop. It stinks. It reeks, from the rotting, gray skin to the sores from the water, the bloating...it reeks. Sometimes, it helps to hold your breath. Sometimes it helps to pretend your body never had that function in the first place. And, when Jenner starts pushing around the corpse with magic...he could hug him. In you know, a manly fashion. Of course.

Then again, it just brings the damn thing closer. He kneels at the wharf's edge, with the old net. Which...smells too. With a unique flavor all its own. It's sort of like corpse-seasoning.

GAME: You nominated serene for good roleplay.

The poor body is dragged to shore by Darshan. His armor is going to rust this wawy, you know, exposure to water and everything.

 The corpse is, well... there. And it smells. Also, it is definitely of a human man who apparently smashed into something very, very hard. His bones feel all broken and some are poking through his skin. And his innards feel a little... goo like.

"Agreed," the mage replies, "Though I still think we should have the tentacles outside the bread, with the sauce as a side. Really, the spices would help immensely..." Spoken around the pipe, back in his mouth, smoke chuffing fit to silence the stench of legions. "...and I hope this one doesn't want to go wandering again," he mutters, the golden flicker of summoned magical wings setting him down alongside the metallic Makar.

Darshan looks...as close to puking as he's ever been as he hauls the...thing...into the net. His claws catch, stick to flesh when he isn't careful enough, and likely bits and pieces of the rotted flesh stick to them. And he isn't breathing. And he's...in the water with it.

Never, ever before has he wanted a bath so damn much. So damn much.

He lets out a long, low hiss. And just...looks at Jenner. Looks at him. YOU AREN'T TOUCHING IT OK.

Jenner's gaze is simple and to-the-point: DAMN STRAIGHT. He knows better.

The corpse--he hauls it out of the water. Regaining land is awkward, with the metal. With the sack o' corpse in tow. Likely they've gathered onlookers by now--or maybe the Alexandrians will just think it's a giant, unusual fish. Right?? The paladin grips it, and still...no breathing. He may just...not breathe until they get to the police station. Where they are most definitely going. RIGHT NOW. ...his face says as much. But all he says is, "This stinks so fucking much." Except that required breathing. Oops.

Jenner holds a hand up over his face, pipe sticking through as he grimaces. "Dar," he says, muttering. "Just put it down. We can get the guards to come to us! Hauling around the dead is a discourtesy!" Not to mention the stomach-churning stench. "Just put it down, cover it with a tarp, step back, get some breath, come back, say some nice words commending the soul to...." He waves a hand in the air, vaguly gesturing. "...somewhere sweet-smelling."

Something is... moving. The corpse's stomach appears to be... expanding.

One of the onlookers separates herself from the rest.. or maybe she just arrived and she made her way in her paladin fashion through the crowd to arrive at the front to witness the two unlikely fishermen pulling their net out of the water. Her frown is immediate; she can tell this is more than some catch of the day spectacle.

"..." the sith nods, and--never has anyone put a corpse down so fast, so fast with the intent of not jostling it. It...smells. It smells, alright? It smells and Darshan puts it on the wharf and is going to /move away now/ and hello-Serene-I-would-say-hi-but-I-am-sort-of-busy-right-now.

-------------------  At a glance around Nar i-Nenesse Dam  -------------------

Serene            2m 6'2"     165 Lb                                

    Tall, dark skinned woman. Armoured and cloaked.      

Whirlpool         2m           Lb                                                                                                       

Jenner            2m 5'10"    160 Lb     Human             Male     

    Sailor Mage! Also not fragile.  

Darshan           0s 6'4"     274 Lb     Sith'makar        Male     

    Mechagodzilla                                                            

 

 

Jenner spares a glance towards Sienna, a brief nod before he takes himself back from the rancid aroma before them. "Someone go fetch the Watch," he announces, staring out at the crowd... And stabbing a finger at one in particular. "You. Go get them, and get them back here. Now!" He spares another glance towards the newcome Paladin, not entirely sure what to make of matters. "Darshan," he finally adds, more quietly. "I think you have a visitor?"

The stomach wiggles some more! And then something BURSTS out of it.

 ...rats. Three of them. They go scurrying away!

Serene's eye twitches... witnessing what certainly counts as one of the more disgusting things she's ever seen. "What, precisely, are you and your friend up to Ser Darshan?" she finally inquires in a moderately cool tone as she steps closer to the pair and the corpse, further away from the other bystanders.

Breathing, again. So the first thing, or the next thing, Serene might see as she heads that way is a grimace on the part of the sith'makar. A grimace like...well. Exactly like he's near a rotting corpse. "Serene!" and tries not to...tries not to...don't /think/ about it requiring breathing. And then he /does/ look ill. He..."Well, shit," weakly. And, nearly staggered, gets to his feet. "...those...well, shit. Serene...we have a Situation." A nod towards the corpse. "He is dead." Perhaps Jenner will be more articulate.

"Very dead," Jenner adds more or less articulately. "And has been for some time. Apparently, something smashed him somewhat brutally and effectively." One eye stays on Darshan, just in case he feels the urge to lose control. Taking the pipe from his mouth, he delves one hand into his satchel, searching briskly. "I've no more knowledge than that," he says, shaking his head. "Beyond asking the Guard to come, and the Vardama priests to attend, I fear there is little else we can do."

Serene's nose wrinkles.. perhaps from the smell, though she's not so close as the two men. "Situation or not, Darshan.. that is little excuse for using such language. It breeds disrespect." She nods to Jenner, then, taking in his explanation as she eyes the corpse. "It should be guarded. No one should be allowed near it. Such things can carry disease."

Jenner glances at Darshan, considering quietly. "....I'll bet Sandy *is* to blame..." he murmurs to himself....

"Oh, no! Wilks!" A noble woman, and she can only be that, has arrived. She's staring at the body that's been pulled out of the river, bloated with decay and such. "He really *did* fall in." She's got two bodyguards with her. Also, she is very matronly. And kind of fat the way nobles are.

Darshan starts to say something, but then all he can do is move aside, and do so quietly. He bows his head, and...propriety demands looking away, but the paladin's eyes stick to the lady, examining, looking...a potential murder scene, at that, and he looks uneasy, and sick, about as sick as someone with a more-than-decent sense of smell /could/ be. "...m'lady," he says, eventually. "We found him, just now. When was he reported missing?" and looks at her, aiming for...bland. A bland, polite expression. He stuffs it behind scale and sticks it there.

"Yesterday night," says the noble, sighing with distress over this horrible sight! The two guards with her, personal guards and not city, seem rather ill about it as well. "We've been hoping he might turn up. he tried to...t ake my necklace after I fired him." She sniffs. "Whatever he might've done, I certainly did not want him to end up like that!"

"He had such an item on him, m'lady," the sith says after a moment, watching her...well. A little too closely, eyes flicking from ear to jaw, to face, to eyes. His voice expresses concern, as much as can be read from a sith'makar to a softskin, though he translates, an attempt to display the emotion in a way she'd expect it. He rearranges muscles, changes the angle of his brow to a furrow. "One...I regret. My sincerest apologies on the matter, but as this happened within Alexandria, we'll need to turn it, and him, over to the guard for a few hours. If you'd come with us, you could help them make sense of it," he says, and offers a bow. That, too, doesn't come naturally. It's practiced, and barely fits, but it is executed. "Darshan, of Daeus' honest service, Serene, of divine Eluna's, and this is a friend of ours from the Enclave, a man of good character who may act as witness that the man was found in this state." Or...well. Translation: prevent an accusation of murder.

"I... understand." She seems dissapointed about this as much as she does about his fate. She frowns. Eyeing him. "He had my necklace, then? Where is it?" Her eyes gleam with a certain desire to have what is her's once more.

Serene steps aside, ensuring clear space between Darshan, Jenner and the recently arrived noblewoman. This is their discovery, their task. But she'd be a poor paladin if she left without at least looking into it and offering her own insight.. should it be of assistance. "The city watch will certainly wish to look into it.. to allow anything else would promote vigilantism. As Ser Darshan has stated.. because it was found with the body, it will have to be turned over to the watch. They will turn it over to you when they are finished with it."

"Safe," the mage replies, eyes hard and dark and sharp. "After all..." He gives Darshan a friendly pat, smiling thinly. "Where else might it be safer than with one of Daeus' own?"

"I suppose this is true. But I'd been so worried. IT's been in my family for ages," She says, giving Jenner and Darshan looks. She runs a hyand through her hair.

"Had, m'lady. I...regret this is..." a glance at the corpse. The bloated, hideous corpse. His jaw works, and he looks to the corpse again. "As of now, consider it in possession of the Church of the Good King. We will do as Eluna's guardian suggests," oh, he throws the names around. "Have faith in the Good King and in the mantle of the Gods of Light, and in the laws of your own city," a pause, a longer one. Darshan looks at her expectantly. And about as mobile as a stubborn, stubborn rock. "Perhaps you'll tell us about it as we walk. It..." a glance at the poor corpse. "...it would be a most welcome distraction."

"Yes, of course. But, if you would, I would offer you cash for my necklace in turn. The guards will know where to examine or find it if they're so inclined." She sniffs. "But it would be better off in my hands, where it belongs, than anywhere else."

Serene's eyes narrow just a fraction, so small a sign that it would be easy not to notice. "Lady... they do not require your necklace because of its value, they require it in the event that it may provide some evidence, magical or otherwise, into the nature of this man's death." Serene doesn't look at the body; she's satisfied that she's not close enough to it to accidentally get some of it.. on her. "Please understand that it, as with anything else discovered here, must be properly examined before it can be returned. To continue to display such.. insistence on its return could be construed as an insult to one who is a paladin."

"Absurd!" the Lady retorts to Serene's comments. "I am insulted that you would even consider yourself insulted. I am of noble birth and bearing," she glares at Serene, aggrivated by her words. The facts of their paladinnisheness is lost on her, it would appear, in the face of having what is her's. "very well. But this is not the last you have heard from me."

"Display faith in the Good King and the Faithful Daughter, m'lady. If you feel mrm, concern, and it is a family heirloom, is it not? Then accompany us, and...guard it with your honest presence." Stubborn. As a rock. "Such a thing may also save you time, and get the necklace returned sooner. They will doubtless need to ask questions about your unfaithful servant. Perhaps...you would be entitled to compensation for your discomfort at his transgression." Stubborn. The face animates--the brow furrows. A gesture of human sympathy, not a sith'makar's. Translation. But he is not moving, and neither is Serene.

Serene bows her head slightly. "I am sure we look forward to your next visit, Lady."

She glares at the pair of them. "You have not heard the last of Lady Rubana Millis Valstadt, you can rest assured of that!" She glares at them both and then turns, with her tired looking guards, and marches off. She is clearly, very unhappy with all these things.

Standing there, a polite, faintly fazed smile accompanies the exit. A human smile, but a sith's...predatory one, just underneath, hidden in the scales. He smiles at her and doesn't mean it, a flicker towards Serene, back again, and he lowers the visor of his helmet. To hide what might be there. Not nice. Not liking the greed-demon within the noblewoman. It calls to be eradicated, for talons to sink in, to be rent, ripped out and removed from the world and laid defeated upon Daeus' altar. There is, alas, no way to attack the metaphysical. A...very uneasy breath. "...I do not think it was hers. We should speak with the guard at once, and...a jeweler, I think. Do you know a reputable one?"