"A strange creature you say?" Allard repeated scratching his head, "No, 'fraid not, however there has been talk of a Jeevak character who came by 'ere while I was still recoverin'. Not much has been heard save fur someone tellin' of'em coming by and stoppin' a fight between a scragly wicked lookin' man an the other visitors in town. Had great healing power, but never shown his own strength. The man our visitors were fightin seemed ta cower in fear before being sent away."
Allard get a couple of drinks, water for now, one for Tyrael and himself. "Now, as fur Krogan's soul an this oracle buisness. Its an old tale, not many believe it anymore. They say there are relics in tha world, that once brought t'gether, will open tha path to a place called 'the vanishin kingdom'. An old sacred ground that lifted away from the Grandis Empire when one of the old kings banished tha oracle that had forseen tha kingdom's fall. Reason these items supposedly work, is cuz they are rich beyond belief with magical energy, more so than any one man can hope ta accumulate. Within those walls, is an Oracle. Sees all, knows all, can answer anythin', an ta top it off, can grant wishes. Legend goes that since the fall of the Grandis empire, Not a soul has stepped into the vanishin' kingdom, an many just chalk it up ta old fairy tails. Can't rightly say m'self, But the magical energy from Krogan's soul is quite tha thing ta behold." Allard did his best to explain. Usually that was where most inquaries about the the legend end as well, with not many tomes to back it up, as if most of the texts on the matter were simply lost to time.
Tyrael rubbed his chin.
“Hmm. Sounds like Jeevak and this Krogan Soul are powerful indeed.” Tyrael wasn’t entirely sure what to do with this information. It’s not as if he cared to accomplish his goals with something as vague and chaotic as wishing, and for all he knows even the oracle and this Krogan Soul could just be a fantasy lost to the time. But it was something to consider.
“Good to know. I cannot say I am interested in pursuing it. However it may be relevant for a different purpose. The woman I travel with is seeking stolen artifacts from her village. I intend to assist her, in gratitude for saving my life. Would you happen to have heard any information about thieves or smugglers before or after the chaos that attacked the village?” "Hmm, tha only Varuk bandits left that would try opposin' Kalla still would be Malkhad's men. If it was his men that ya found, they would have a scorpion tattooed on their back somewhere. If those mercs were helpin' them, they must've had some sort of agreement together. We have a scoutin' party out now, lookin' fur tha other girls that were taken. Hopefully they arrive with 'em all in tow." Allard scratched his head looking ito his tankard of clear water. "So, tha girl you travel with, friend o' yurs or just met? She is much farther than she need be from her home, an of all places ta start here. Near suicide fur her kind, from tha looks of it, nearly was fur her too. Once she is cleaned up, I advice she stays in tha oasis till ya leave. And I am sure Valia can get some clothes together. Our tailor seems ta be injured, but I'm sure we can find somethin' fur tha girl."
Tyrael simply nods.
"I've only known her for a few days. She travels with purpose. Better than I. I was simply a wanderer up until I encountered her." Tyrael lowers raises his mask a bit to drink his water, allowing Kalla a glimpse of his green skin.
"To that end, I still require the use of your forge, and I am willing to trade for materials and other services. And while I know this village may not be able to spare the manpower, but it would make our journey much easier if we could have one of two villagers who know how to operate a sand skiff. I would not dare travel through the desert on foot anymore.""I am willing to negotiate the ownership of the skiff itself, as by right of plunder I have claimed the ship for myself, however am I more than willing to grant it to the village so long as they in turn can do me the service of operating it in my stead." "Use of tha forge should be fine. If ya know what yur doin tha smith won't put up much a fuss. As fur tha ship, considder it yours. It's an old model, but sturdy all things considdered. However, due to recent occurances, I cannot say if we could let anyone go. Up ta tha cheif though," Allard responded. "If ya wish ta leave it, well, like ya said, maybe some people will go with ya on yur way out ta sail it back."
Tyrael nods and stands up.
“Thank you. If my... Friend comes to look for me, please tell her where to find me.” Not really necessary since Zastriel is with Lynn, but simply as a formality. Tyrael would leave the tavern and head to the smith’s shop to do business while he waits for Lynn to recover.
Outside the smiths door, Tyrael knocked you make his presence known.
"Oi! Door's not locked, c'mon in," Tyreal would hear a voice call out. There were the familiar sounds of a blacksmith's shop heard from outside the door. the roar of flames and the sound of a hammer pounding away a a piece of hot metal on an anvil.
Tyrael enters with a bow of his head.
“I am Tyrael. I wish to use your forge. I have weapons and armor I also wish to barter for supplies and services.” "Mornin' ta ya friend, I'll help any way I can, especially after what ya did. I wasn't out there m'self, but word travels fast, it does. What can I do ya for?" the man asked as he got to a stopping place in his work, wiping the sweat from his brow. He was surprisingly young to be working his own smithy, only around his mid twenties, but still built like a typical muscular and hearty Varuk. He wore simple work pants, a leather apron, heavy gloves and a bandana around his forehead with sandy hair cut short and unlike most the men in Kalla, didn't sport a beard. "Anything in particular?"
“I need iron and steel. And tools. I wish to make an axe blade of a complex design.” Tyrael enters the smithy room, looking for any spare aprons and gloves for him to use.
“Afterwards I would try and craft some armor. I plan to repurpose some of the armor and metals I’ve obtained for that purpose. And perhaps a shield. If you can help me with any of those tasks I will be grateful.” "I'll do what I can. I'm, uh.... admittedly not too skilled with body armor forgin'. My father was 'for he passed, but I never learned that far. Norm'ly if a Varuk uses armor, its some platin' on the arms an legs and a shield. Tha shield covers nicely an less armor keeps us mobile an cool, body armor just isnt used much round here. Last set made was the one Allard commission for his daughter from my father...," he waved his hand in the air dismissing himself from his monologue. "But I'll try ma'best. Now and axe I can definitely do. The various metal we can repurpose. Hmmm," he thought resting a hand on his chin. "I'll help with the shield after, and then we can work on armor, but uh...," he noticed Tyreal gearing up to help him forge, "If ya got tha know how... would ya mind showing me how ta do some armor?"
“I do not mind. But I should warn you that Orcish armor is not well suited for most other races. Varuk’s are strong, so they should be able to handle the weight. But the strength of orcish armor is being able to use their armor as a shield, to deflect blows with minimal movement to conserve their energy.” Tyrael dons the apron and gloves before unloading the weapons and armor he intends to use for the forging process. He starts by removing the axe blades from their wooden halves, doing his best to preserve the handles for other uses.
“Smaller races rely more on evasion to protect themselves, as conventional armor for them is often too heavy yet at the same time not sturdy enough for the threats they face, be it magic or monsters. But the orcs can and have taken advantage of their much greater strength, endurance, and decent agility to make armor that enables them protection without compromising their battle stamina. In other words, they can focus less on fighting defensively so they can focus on fighting offensively.”----
"There, she should be right as rain in no time," Valia stated as they finished, "Help me get her into some temporary clothes so we can was up what she had while she sleeps. Then I think I could go for a relaxing soak as well." As Valia and Maeve dressed her, Valia thought more about the girl from Tundral. "So, What brought you all the way out to Kalla anyway? I'd imagine it would be the last place someone from Tundral would want to visit, much like I'm sure Tundral would feel miserable for one of us to visit." She didn't spare any time however, as once they were finished, Valia would start to move Lynn to go to the Oasis. She picked up the girl surprisingly easily and held her in a bridal carry, letting Maeve lead the way outside.
From there, if Sev and Tali were paying attention, they would see the three exit the bath house. Valia would let Lynn into the water to rest.
Bidzil looked surprised at Kallen's ability, it still was quite a sight to behold.
"That was increadible! Yeah, this will be a lot better, thanks!" He said excitedly as he hurried to help Kallen get the sleds over.
"Chihiro, Kallen prepped some sleds for us, should make getting Hilde to the skiffs much easier." Bidzil understood the sled was better, but he had no idea how to make one on the fly, luckily, Kallen made that a non-issue. When offering the sled for Dorran, however, the four men carrying Dorran in a stretcher refused, saying that Dorran died a heroes death for them, that they want to carry him back to the skiffs. It was a show of respect for a fallen leader, they would bear his weight back home, only setting him down for the ride on the skiff.
Hilde squeezed Chihiro's hand,
"Its, a bit painful to breathe, but... I haven't coughed up anything yet" she said with a slight smile that ended up looking more like a grimace. She winced in pain when being set up on the sled, but there was no helping it. At least from here, she should be able to rest.
"I didn't expect it to use an explosive attack so close range, it was like it had no consideration for its own safety. I... misjudged my opponent." She chuckled lightly at the mention of her father, trying not to laugh too hard.
"He'll be upset but... I think he will understand. There had been stories of dad and Dorran running off plenty of times when others thought it too dangerous to go even in large groups. They never cared if it were dangerous, they just knew what needs to be done. Dad really wanted to come out here... but I could tell he knew something was off, I just didn't know what. If he had come, none of our strongest warriors would have been in town. I hope he's alright..." Nix flinched a few times as Kistal worked, even whining a little as the one came off from around her ankle. She held her arm straight out and wiggled her fingers like he suggested, making an uncomfortable and irritated face as the strange sensation. She then instinctively lifted her leg and started licking at the wounds from the shackles. When she felt that it was sufficiently clean she would look to Kistal for a moment, watching him as he would be called over to help with some of the others who still had some shackles on. She looked around at the others milling about before she yawned out of some sort of idle frustration and began to silently follow Kistal around. She seemed to be studying him, from his mannerisms to what he was doing, any time he would look her way she would act as if she was looking at something else, turning her head and feigning interest elsewhere.
Eventually everyone was set for the march back to camp. despite the victory, it was a mostly quiet march, many of the warriors knowing their arrival to town would be met with much happiness, yet sorrow for their fallen leader. It was bittersweet. They would arrive to the cave and set off to the dunes once more. Even the sands seemed quiet with the passing of one of its children. Many found the ride as a time to get some rest after the fight. Wounds were tended to as best they could be while on the go, Hilde's sled was secured so it wouldn't slide around.
Bidzil wasn't able to sleep however. He sat in deep thought after the whole ordeal, not that things have quieted down. Despite how tired he was, the memories of his first real battle shook him up a bit now that the dust had settled. He wasn't ashamed of what he did, but he felt like he didn't do enough to help. He wondered what the power was that took ahold of him, and mentally cursed how drained he was after it was used to protect that one girl. What good was it if he was able to shield someone if he couldn't fight back afterwords? later on down the line there might not be someone there to pick up his slack and it would only prolong the death of who he was trying to protect. He needed to learn, but from what? There was nothing to guide him on how to be a transcendent and he felt learning as he goes could only jeopardize others. He let out an irritated sight as he leaned his head back on the railing of the skiff. He had an arm resting on one propped up knee as he ran his other hand through his hair. Weren't transcendents in all the stories of old supposed to be better at this kind of stuff? Maybe his single wing really was a bad omen...
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