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[indent][color=lightgray] This situation was degrading by the minute. While Nellara and Silbermine traded insults like school children, some of Silbermine’s soldiers were passing out food. Shirik hadn’t consumed actual food in a thousand years, but they imagined it tasted more saline than the bottom of an ocean. Silbermine only made his intentions plainer with each fumble. First he wanted the “temple” for himself, then he wanted the humans to serve as his champions in the Running. Luckily, they didn’t seem too interested in it. Shirik always found the Running to be comical at best and pointless at worst. They never cared for the posturing of countries, nor divine right of lords. 

But as they spoke of war, it ruffled Shirik’s feathers. Silbermine wouldn’t have known war if it speared him through both stomachs. The Castigator seemed to at least grasp the sheer waste that war brought on, but Silbermine practically gloated. There were many things Shirik could’ve said in that moment, but things were tense enough as it is, and an old Iriad’s wisdom could only do so much to dissuade violence. Being as unique an individual as they were, the concept of borders was as empty to Shirik as nobility was the an Archmagister. 

The talk of the Running seemed to turn to Shirik of all people, as Silbermine had the nerve to propose they be his champion. [i]That[/i] was the last straw. Shirik turned to Silbermine and visibly bristled. Puffs of black smoke sputtered out from under their cloak. They were not amused.

[color=d68300]”That fetid excuse for pageantry you cling to is [i]far[/i] beneath me. I have seen famished peasants conduct themselves with more dignity than your so-called champions.[/color] They hissed, with no disregard for how impactful on Silbermine’s pride their words may or may not have been when surrounded by this many people.

This was the most displeasure they had spoken with since the humans first crash landed, since they gave Nellara a piece of their mind upon first contact, and when they anecdotally spoke of their past life as a soldier with Gar’Tan’s aid. Shirik was [i]pissed[/i] now.

[color=d68300]”Watch your tongue when you address me, [b]boy.[/b] If I hear you speak of me as “ilk” again, then I will be teaching our human guests how Glen meat is cooked.”[/color]

It just so happened that the leader of these human guests had stepped out and made her own demands. Good, they thought. There needed to be a shift in tone or these people would kill each other. With that verbal assault on Silbermine done with, Shirik backed away and took to sitting against the side of a rock beside everyone. They listened to Zeynap list terms for a bargain. She seemed to know what she was doing.

[color=d68300]”I know this land better than most. If any of you should consider hunting an option for food, I can lend myself to you.”[/color] They chimes in at the end. Give a man a fish, he’ll eat for a day. Teach him to fish and he’ll eat forever. It may have been a millennia since Shirik had to eat, but Iriad experienced the memories of their ancestors. Shirik was incapable of forgetting the basic traditions of the Myriad from ages past, and perhaps these humans could benefit from them.

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