Holes and Wyrms

Moirean

Hopefully Noelle or Ingram has the first half of this to share? I bet it was awesome!

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Her voice sharp-edged and frosty, Faerah whispers to you, "Erm. Are you lucid, Chair?"

You tell Faerah, "Yes."

Her voice sharp-edged and frosty, Faerah whispers to you, "Ah, great. I figured, since I was unwillingly involved in some minor destruction to our city's walls, that I should probably report the matter to you."

You tell Faerah, "Oh?"

Her voice sharp-edged and frosty, Faerah whispers to you, "Mm. You're welcome to come check it out for yourself, one north of the Inner Gates."

Entrance to the Citadel. (Spinesreach.)
Moving south from the gate, this space opens up into three distinct basilicas to the north. Each basilica is separated from the others by tall stonework that are parallel to each other. Here, inside the curtain wall, the stonework has been solidly fitted together that even the thinnest of blades could not be slid through the space between two of the hewn ashlars. This opening through the curtain wall is the only entrance from the south into the Citadel. The massive Inner Gate looms open to the south. Faerah is here, shrouded. She wields an iron-tipped whip in her left hand and a jewel-encrusted buckler in her right. A huge crater has been punched into the wall here.
You see exits leading north, northeast, south, and northwest.

You stare at Faerah and blink.

You say, "YOU did that?"

"Oh." Faerah's gaze shifts to the huge crater, her head tilting in its direction for a brief moment before returning her focus on you. "No. Some 'Warmaster' named Rhauv did that. He came to the Lion randomly last month seeking a 'Champion' to battle one of his wards and decided I would be said champion. I'm not entirely certain why."

You have emoted: Moirean frowns, brow knitting together in thought. "Rhauv," she mumbles. "Rhauv. Where have I heard that..." Looking towards you for clarification, she asks, "What did he look like?"

"Earthlike. A massive rock... Thing." Faerah says, her hands motioning about as if to display a great mass. "His 'ward,' however, was a tiny elemental minion of his. I tried to tell him that I had no interest, but he set the poor little tyke on me, took one garrote after I finally had had enough of the charade. Pity, really, it was quite cute with its little arms."

Eyebrows raising, you say, "Oh. Is he that Earthen from down in Bloodloch? He and I flexed rock formations at each other once."

You have emoted: Moirean sucks in her lip and lets out a click, gaze drifting towards the crater. "...And so that's that happened when you beat his little kid?" she asks, nodding at the hole.

"Likely. He was quite... Phased by how easily I took out his ward though... And quite distressed by Ingram and Noelle's inability to convincingly hold back their laughter during the entire ordeal." Faerah smirks a bit, tossing her weight into a lean by the massive crater in the wall. "He made this when he was trying to intimidate me into fighting the ward to begin with. I figured you should probably know its source."

Jensen tells you, "Ya busy, chair?"

Jensen arrives from the south.

You have emoted: Moirean shifts her weight, frown deepening. "...damn strong," she mutters, leaning in closer to poke at the crater. "We'll need to find an engineer to examine this. Get the Doyen out, make sure it's not unstable. Citadel falling down would not be ideal."

You have emoted: Moirean's gaze turns to Jensen and, accusingly, she says, "Warden, someone punched a HOLE in a WALL. That's CRIME."

Faerah nods her head at you. "Simply wanted to bring it to your attention, Chair," she says, her gaze shifting to Jensen.

"Chain 'em up 'n cut their hands off," Jensen says flatly.

You have emoted: "It's a giant rock who did it," Moirean replies just as flatly.

Jensen asks, "A giant rock?"

Faerah says, "Mm."

You have emoted: Moirean nods in reply. "That Earthen guy who hangs out in Bloodloch," she confirms. "I think."

Faerah says, "'Warmaster Rhauv'"

Jensen asks, "Why'd he do it?"

"He wanted a Spirean 'Champion' to fight his ward and got mad when I politely declined." Faerah explains, her arms drawing to a cross at her chest. "Set the poor little tyke on me anyway, told it to remember its training... Which, I assume it did not get to used since I dropped it with one garrote."

You suck thoughtfully on your teeth.

With a firm, decisive nod, you say, "Right. Well. There's a hole in the wall that needs some answering for."

You beckon to those around you.

With a slow nod, Jensen says, "Iffin ya capture it, use iron or steal spikes in his limbs ta chain 'im down to an' ox cart. Douse tha bastard in water 'n send tha cart upta tha tundra, ice will break tha fractures in stone."

You say to Jensen, "...we're going to TALK. Not KILL."

You stare implacably at Jensen.

You say, "Ok?"

"He indicated that he might be back with a better ward." Faerah shrugs a bit. "Perhaps I will get the opportunity then."

Jensen says, "I won't kill without orders ta do so."

You grunt noncommittally.

//--- Travel ---\\

Sinkhole beneath Dead Man's Passage. (Bloodloch.)
Dirt and muck fill this sinkhole, a variety of miscellaneous objects visible within the dust. The sinkhole itself measures almost sixty feet across. There are 2 monolith sigils here. Her posture hunched uncomfortably, a shawl-draped scion of despair resides here. Its serpentine form coiled about itself, a wyrm of the Earth rests here. The earth churns wildly here, bending to the will of the Warmaster. Great mauls and bludgeons of shaped stone rest upon the ground here; discarded and forgotten by the forger that wrought them.
You see a single exit leading up.

You say, "...welp."

You say, "He WAS here."

You frown at a wyrm of the Earth.

WYRM:
Formed entirely of rocks and desert sand, this wyrm of the Earth is a menacing sight. Stretching almost thirty feet long and well over twelve feet high, the wyrm towers over its surroundings. Long granite teeth fill a mouth which has the appearance of a bottomless crevasse. Two onyx eyes are set above its mouth, glinting as it gazes about itself.
A wyrm of the Earth looks weak and feeble.
He weighs about 625 pound(s).
He is loyal to the City of Bloodloch.

Tentatively hopeful, you say to a wyrm of the Earth, "Hey boy. Hey! Hunt down your master, eh? Eh?"

Offering a few handfuls of pebbles, you say to a wyrm of the Earth, "Loooook treats!"

Jensen plants his bastard sword into the ground and leans on the hilt.

You tell Sarita, "Soooo."

Jensen says, "Wonder iffin he's grievin' tha lil tyke."

"Maybe he's out looking for a new ward." Faerah suggests, her arms drawing to a cross at her chest.

You tell Sarita, "You guys have a warmaster on the loose. Apparently he is trying to train up sandlings and needs subjects to practice on. He's ripped a hole in the Citadel and now he's missing."

You grunt noncommittally.

You have emoted: Moirean steps towards to the wyrm, her small form quickly becoming dwarfed with each step. Finally, when she's nearly beside it, she stares up appraisingly, as if gauging how to scale the beast.

You mutter, "...der if I could ...e it..." (Translation: "I wonder if I could ride it" - really, what else would Moi be saying?)

Faerah says to you, "Only one way to find out."

With a curt nod, Jensen looks up at the wyrm.

Jensen says, "Go fer it."

You have emoted: Moirean draws in a quick breath at that, eyes widening as she smiles brightly. "THAT IS A GOOD POINT!" she calls out, voice echoing shrilly through the sinkhole and off the cavern ceiling high overhead. She digs her feet into the ground and flaps her wings, preparing to launch herself upwards.

Faerah takes one, very large, step back - a smirk tugging at the corners of the winged redhead's lips as she watches you attempt to mount a wyrm of the Earth. Her gaze shifts momentarily to Jensen, offering him a slight shrug.

In a reassuring shriek, you say to a wyrm of the Earth, "HOLD STILL."

You have emoted: Moirean then leaps upwards. Her wings flutter frantically, churning at the air - after a few uncertain heartbeats, they catch, holding her upright akin in a drunken, weaving sort of way. She grins fiercely and kicks at one of the bludgeons sticking up from the dirt, pushing off it to launch herself higher. She repeats the process on the next one, bobbing up the stone pieces in some half-flying sort of ladder climb, until she's high enough that the wyrm is beneath her...an easy jump to close the distance and land on its back.

You yell, "DON'T MOVE!"

Jensen's gaze follows your unstable path. "Hrm, she might make it," he murmurs softly.

A certain sense of amusement settles in Faerah's gaze as she watches you half bounce, half fly to reach you new station above a wyrm of the Earth. She tosses her weight against the earthen wall, falling into a bit of a lean as she agreeably says to Jensen, "...She just might."

Jensen stands upright, securing his blade in a weaponbelt.

You have emoted: Moirean pauses for just a second before leaping towards the wyrm, hovering high up at the top of the sinkhole, to spit into her hands and then slap them together. It's what professionals do, maybe she's thinking, or it could be she just saw it done somewhere once before. Her own version is a bit...messier, leaving her hands more than a bit slick, but she's already losing her balance, so there's no time to correct it, she's falling flying leaping launching jumping towards the wyrm-

Faerah's gaze follows you as she descends upon the wyrm, without a hint of grace. Her right eyebrow quirks upward, obviously curious to how a wyrm of the Earth will receive its new rider.

The wyrm, stoically ignoring proceedings up until this point, is hard pressed to ignore an Imp-sized bundle hurtling towards it. With a loud rumble of stone, it finally lifts its head to peer at the oncoming body with two fist-sized eyes of dark onyx.

Jensen's wings unfurl from behind his cloak, spanning out wide in either direction.

You yell, "Aiiiiieeeee."

Faerah pushes from her lean swiftly. "Erm... Moirean," she flatly calls up to you.

You have emoted: And so, with that, Moirean's trajectory finds itself rather abruptly interrupted - instead of the beast's back, she lands squarely atop its face, arms and legs splaying out spreadeagle atop the creature's nose. Her head lifts. Her eyes widen. The wyrm's eyes cross as it tries to peer at this little THING clinging to it.

Your pose is now set as:
Moirean is here, "riding" a sand wyrm.

The wrym gives its head a shake. Its body shivers in agitation, the motion a rumbling ripple of rocks and rubble that sets the entire sinkhole quaking.

Jensen legs bend, before kicking off the ground with a mighty flap from his wings. Motes of dust blow out in every direction as the Yeleni rises into the air.

You have emoted: Moirean lets out a shrill cry as the wyrm begins to undulate, arms and legs digging in to cracks and crannies in the beast's stone head as she hangs on like a leech. The creature gnashes at the air, granite teeth chomping together with screeches of stone, while its tail lifts up high and then slams down with a ground-shaking thud, creating a thick cloud of dust.

You yell, "WhoooaaAAAAaooooAAAAAaaaoooOOoaaaaaAAAaa stooooooooppppp-."

Faerah launches upward with a powerful leap, her own wings catching on the air to lift her upward.

Rising quickly, Jensen's wings carry him in a path straight for the Wyrm's maw.

Faerah darts past a wyrm of the Earth's maw as she sweeps through the air, finding herself behind its head as Jensen charges at it's front.

The wyrm doesn't notice the approach of the others, so intent is it on dislodging the shrieking, irritating pest clinging to its face. Its mouth opens wide and, slithering out from between the granite teeth, a tongue begins to form, a slender rope of spinning sand, sharp as a spear and moving quick as a whip. It coils around to slam at the beast's face, trying to swat at the Imp.

Jensen calls out to you, "Ready ta leave ma'am?"

Sarita tells you, "You guys?"

Sarita enters from the up, riding a roan brumby stallion.

Sarita raises an eyebrow at you.

The wyrm doesn't notice the approach of the others, so intent is it on dislodging the shrieking, irritating pest clinging to its face. Its mouth opens wide and, slithering out from between the granite teeth, a tongue begins to form, a slender rope of spinning sand, sharp as a spear and moving quick as a whip. It coils around to slam at the beast's face, trying to swat at the Imp.

"I think she's quite ready, Lieutenant." Faerah calls out to Jensen from her position behind a wyrm of the Earth.

You have emoted: Probably out of simple sheer luck, Moirean picks that EXACT moment to roll sideways to try to interpret Jensen's remark. Her hand slips and she slides, dangling from just one arm, her body miraculously vacating the spot where the sandstorm tongue slams down into.

Loudly , you say to Jensen, "WHAT I CAN'T HEAR THERE IS A WYRM HERE MAKING NOISE."

Sarita maintains her distance, watching from a perch at the edge of the sinkhole without much of an expression on her face.

Jensen darts down quickly in a barrel roll, and dives straight for the dangling imp.

You have emoted: Moirean lets out a shriek as the sandstorm tongue slams down beside her, the surprised reaction causing her whole body to start. She loses what little grip she has left and begins to plummet backwards. Her wings, useless as usual, don't really seem to remember how to work.

The wyrm shakes its head again, letting out a roar as the Imp is finally dislodged. It slams its tail on the ground again, filling the entire sinkhole with an even thicker cloud of dust.

His wings tucked in, Jensen reaches out an arm form the imp, following her path with a sharp dive.

Faerah's whip lashes outward, following you as it coils about the imp's small form - the force jerking the Idreth downward as her wings powerfully attempt to maintain her position.

You have emoted: Moirean squawks awkwardly as the two Syssin snag her, plucking her out of midair. Her arms and legs windmill a bit before she manages to swing around, tangled up in the whip, to stick her tongue out at the wyrm.

Still staying well away, Sarita dismounts and ducks behind her stallion, using its body as a sort of shield while she takes her eyes off the wyrm.

Its unwelcome rider dislodged, the wyrm seems to have little interest in the fleshy things before it anymore. With a rumble of rock, it settles back down, its stony coils growing still and silent until, in a remarkable few moments, the creature looks like nothing more than carved stone.

Jensen sprawls his wings out fully, slowing the rapid descent.

You have emoted: Moirean clambers around, trying to scramble up Jensen's back as the two of them glide to the ground. "Did you SEE THAT!" she chatters, poke at his shoulder. "I *RODE* a stone *WYRM*!" She's positively beaming.

Faerah lowers to the ground, tugging her whip free of its tangle about you before she secures it on her weaponbelt with a smirk. "...Something like that," the redhead says, unable to hold back the sly grin on her face.

Jensen sticks a rough landing, dropping sharply to one knee as he hits the ground.

"A small one," Sarita says dismissively. When projected from the edge of the sinkhole, her voice has a strange rumbling quality.

You have emoted: Moirean twists her head to look over at Sarita - it's clear she didn't notice her enter in all the chaos. "Hi!" she calls out, apparently unruffled by her near-smushing experience. "We came looking for the warlord? Warmaster? Big Earthen guy?"

"Warmaster Rhauv," Faerah says to Sarita, her weight returning to a lean against the earthen wall behind her.
Y
Jensen slumps down to the ground, and extends out a limp looking leg with his hands. He then calmly rummages through his gear procuring some rope and a short wooden rod.

Sarita finally moves closer, her golem following at her heels. "So I heard. If he was up north, why look here?"
Frowning, you say, "Isn't this where he was...stationed? Living? I don't know. He was here for years, this sinkhole."

You point accusingly at a wyrm of the Earth.

You say, "That's his!"

"His last known location was leaving the north days ago, we thought he might have returned." Faerah says, her tone neutral as her arms draw to a cross at her chest. "He punched a rather large hole in one of our walls and Moirean means to speak to him about it."

Sarita says, "That is bound to the Earthen Lord. We simply made arrangements for the warmaster to stay here because we thought it might suit him."

You grunt noncommittally.

Jensen straps the rod tightly to his limp leg, fastening it with an impromptu knot. He looks up blankly at Sarita, asking "So ya dun know where he's run ofta?"

You have emoted: Moirean bounces over close to Jensen, squatting down to watch him work. "Whatcha doing?" she asks.

"I'd not heard of his departure until she contacted me," Sarita says, jutting her chin briefly in your direction. "I can check our Grotto, the Pillars, the Earthen Lord's temple, and we might search the Raugol Fissure too, in case he has sought out other Earthen."

"Shattered my knee on landin'" Jensen answers. He looks back over to Sarita, "I'd appreciate that, thank ya."

"It's likely that he's seeking out a new ward," Faerah says, sweeping a few sanguine tresses of hair from her face with her right hand. "He was insistent that I fought his last one and... Well, it did not go as he had planned."

You have emoted: At the word "Raugol" Moirean's head lifts. "OHHHHHH!" she says, eyes getting big as saucers. "OH! Oh! Umm!" She looks away, sliding to her feet, and her cheeks flush. She looks like the kid who got caught stealing cookies from the cookie jar. She digs one toe into the dirt.

In a mumble, you say, "I just remembered where I saw him last...." (hint: it was not in Bloodloch)

Jensen braces himself with his wings as he clumsily gets to his feet. He shuffles with an awkward limp, and falls in behind you.

Sarita's crystal eyes light on Faerah. "A ward?" she repeats, the rumbling tone gaining a sharp edge before her attention is drawn back to you.

"Mmm... A small elemental minion of his. Set it to attack me after I politely declined his... Rather insistent demand that I fight it." Faerah explains, pushing herself off the wall to a proper stand.

(Spinesreach): Hayt says, "Why the hole?"

(Spinesreach): You say, "That's what she said?"

(Spinesreach): Ishin says, "Haha."

(Spinesreach): Hayt says, "...."

Sarita shifts her weight from one foot to the other, making small tremors ripple through the ground around her. "Warmasters make war," she says simply. "That much is hardly surprising."

"Mm." Faerah replies, her gaze shifting to you and Jensen.

//--- At this point, Jensen had to go, but he wanted to read the buffer, so he is afk ---\\

You have emoted: Moirean tentatively pokes at Jensen's knee, chewing her lip, before she says, "Well. He also made a hole. A big old crater in the Basilica." To Jensen, she then adds, "...But I guess we can let you heal up before we go find him. In a spot that I definitely did not know he was at."

"'Definitely,'" Faerah repeats flatly after you, a smirk tugging at her lips.

Glancing up to Sarita, you say, "So. Uhh. Is he. Like. Loyal to you guys? Like. Umm....Who should we be sending the bill to?"

Sarita glances briefly towards Jensen before asking, "Do you wish for me to accompany you?"

Sarita says, "He is his own person. The Teradrim are not his warband."

You grunt noncommittally.

Pursing her lips, you say, "Well then, he'll have to pay the repair costs himself."

With a shrug, you say, "Anyways. Off we go."

Warmaster Rhauv thunders in from the up, heavy footfalls preceding his entry.

In businesslike fashion, Warmaster Rhauv hunkers down into the corner of the sinkhole, coming to rest.

Sarita rumbles in a tone that resonates with earthen power to Warmaster Rhauv, "Greetings, Warmaster."

You have emoted: Moirean begins to scramble up out of the sinkhole, her tail twisting down to offer Jensen a not-very-helpful sort of help, poking and prodding as he climbs up behind her. She pauses at the top and turns around, waving a happy little bye-bye at the wyrm...and then freezes in place. "OH! HI!" she cries out, bouncing downwards to tumble right back down to the bottom of the pit.

"GOOD EVE," Warmaster Rhauv says, voice making the cavern quiver.

You have emoted: Moirean raises her own voice in response to the Earthen, shouting back, "HI! YOU MADE A HOLE IN MY CITY!"

Faerah's fingers begin to drum absently along the flesh of each opposing arm, her gaze shifting between you and Warmaster Rhauv.

Warmaster Rhauv nods quite proudly. "MMM. YES. WARMASTER RHAUV HAS DEEMED THE NEW SHAPE SUITABLE."

You have emoted: Moirean shakes her head right back. "NOT SUITABLE!" she insists. "IT IS A HOLE. HOLES ARE HOLE-LIKE."

What might be a smile tugs the edge of Sarita's stone lips.

"NAY. IT IS MY FINEST HOLE YET," Warmaster Rhauv retorts, in a tone that suggests he is having none of it. He manages to sink, diminishing vertically in what can only be described as a true Azvoshian squat.
You stare implacably at Warmaster Rhauv.

Faerah's right eyebrow quirks up a bit. "Yes, tantrum holes, they're of the finest quality in all of Sapience," the redhead flatly says. "I do not think you are going to get anywhere with him, Chair," she says to you.

You have emoted: Moirean gives one foot a stomp, bellowing back, "WHILE! WHILE I CAN APPRECIATE THE VALUE OF A GOOD HOLE - I THINK ALL OF US CAN, RIGHT LADIES?" She nods her head at Sarita and Faerah, apparently assuming agreement. "THIS PARTICULAR HOLE IS PLACED IN A RATHER AWKWARD SPOT."

His attention summoned by Faerah's voice, Warmaster Rhauv notices her for the first time. "AH, THE SPIREAN WARLORD. WE ARE WELL MET. WARMASTER RHAUV HEARS YOUR CONCERNS. I BESEECH YOU TO REFLECT WELL UPON THE VIRTUES OF HAND-HEWN STONE. ITS AESTHETIC PROPERTIES ARE DESIRABLE."

Sarita says to you, "I will not comment on that which I have not seen."

Faerah's gaze shifts to the back of her hand, inspecting her nails as she flatly returns, "...Well met, indeed. The problem, Warmaster, is that we are now concerned with the integrity of our Basilica."

You have emoted: "PERHAPS WE CAN ARRANGE A REPLACEMENT HOLE IN A SPOT BETTER SUITED TO SHOWCASE YOUR. Err.." Moirean stops here, clearing her throat. It's clear matching the warlord tone-for-tone isn't gonna be sustainable. "TalENTs!" she squeaks in conclusion, voice cracking a bit. "A hole in one...better spot."

Warmaster Rhauv pulls his broad body forward and peers at you thoughtfully, performing a gesture uncannily like scratching one's chin, which he notably lacks. "A COMPROMISE. IT IS ONLY FAIR. CHOOSE WELL YOUR LOCATION."

Faerah's gaze lifts, shifting between you and Warmaster Rhauv, her expression indicating a bit of amusements - as if she is trying to determine which of the two is more ridiculous. "...Well that... Yeah, that would work," she says, almost sounding a bit surprised.

You have emoted: Moirean nods happily, her gaze shooting towards a wyrm of the Earth, before she hopefully adds on, "...and a wyrm ride!"

Warmaster Rhauv says, "NAY. THERE WILL BE NO WYRM RIDE."

Brightly, you say, "Every new hole needs a wyrm ride to commemorate it."

"IT IS NOT DONE THAT WAY, SMALL ONE," Warmaster Rhauv returns, sounding cheerfully disinterested in debate.

You have emoted: Moirean blithely continues, "I've already ridden your wyrm. He loved it. We are friends now." She beams over at said wyrm.

Faerah closes her eyes for a moment, her right hand lifting to clutch at the bridge of her nose.
Warmaster Rhauv says, "ONE WYRM RIDE IS ALL ONE NEEDS. THE WYRM RIDE IS UNCHANGING, UNLIKE THE FINE STONE OF AZVOSH."

You have emoted: Moirean purses her lips, considering the rebuttal. Her eyes widen and then she taps at the side of her nose, winking exaggeratedly. "Ahhh," she replies. "I get it. "NO" wyrm rides." She glances significantly to either side, nodding to indicate the others around her, the poor, left-out others, uninitiated in the wyrm-riding club.

These subtleties, these insidious word games, are unnoticed by Warmaster Rhauv , as surely the cliff does not notice individual droplets in the crashing tides. He stares dead ahead, his focus somewhere on your brow. "I AM CONFUSED. HOW DOES THIS PERTAIN TO MATTERS OF THE HOLE?"

With another wink, you say, "Nothiiiiing. Nothing at all. Right. I'll get right on that task of finding a new, better hole-displaying spot and you can start not preparing the wyrm for riding." A pause, and then, almost businesslike, "Now, tell me warmaster, when constructing holes, is there a particular surface you find highlights them best? What sort of material is your favorite?"

"STONE," Warmaster Rhauv declares proudly, with such verve that the cavern trembles and scatters a few samples.

You have emoted: Moirean's smile becomes a bit fixed at that. "Stone," she echoes. "Any. Err. Particular type?"

Warmaster Rhauv utters a guttural 'hmmmm' and dips his head, scanning the ground. He spends a while in silence.

You have emoted: Moirean spends this interlude staring over at the wyrm, bouncing from foot to foot in anticipation.

Warmaster Rhauv snaps his head up. He has made his decision.

Warmaster Rhauv says, "STONE OF THE EARTH."

Faerah's hands clap together as she pushes her weight from her lean to stand properly. "Right. The hole. How about, you fix up the hole you made a few days ago... And Moirean will tell you all about a nice... Stone of the earth wall, that you can punch a beautiful new hole in?"

You have emoted: Moirean frowns over at Sarita, eyebrows raising, as she mouths 'stone of the earth?'

Warmaster Rhauv says, "IT IS THE DUTY OF WARMASTER RHAUV-- NAY, ALL EARTHSHAPERS AND FELLOWS OF AZVOSH-- TO RESHAPE STONE AS HE DEEMS SUITABLE. THIS IS NOT A COMMODITY IN SCARCITY. WE ARE DETERMINING THE NATURE OF A COMPROMISE, SPIREAN WARRIOR."

If Sarita notices your mouthed question, she gives no sign. Her attention seems to be taken up more by Rhauv than anything else.

You have emoted: Moirean lets out a muffled grunt as she fails to catch Sarita's attention, turning her gaze back to Warmaster Rhauv. "Stone of the Earth," she repeats. "Where is that stone most commonly. Umm. Grown? Harvested? Farmed?"

You say to Sarita, "Where does baby stone come from?"

Stricken with hilarity, Warmaster Rhauv cocks back his head and blasts the sinkhole with grim laughter. "YOU AMUSE ME, LITTLE ONE! ALL STONE IS STONE OF THE EARTH."

Sarita mutters, "Ba.. ..one."

Faerah's fingers return to their pinch at the bridge of her nose, irritation building as she, loudly, says to Warmaster Rhauv, "WE WILL GIVE YOU A NEW WALL TO SHAPE HOWEVER YOU WANT IT TO, JUST RESTORE THE ONE YOU PUNCHED A HOLE INTO BEFORE I KILLED YOUR WARD."

"WE HAVE ALREADY AGREED UPON THE TERMS OF THE COMPROMISE, SPIREAN CHAMPION," Warmaster Rhauv answers, using what is for him a conversational tone that dwarfs the mortal efforts to shout. "YOU MUST PAY ATTENTION, IT IS WEARYING TO REPEAT PORTIONS OF THE CONVERSATION."

You have emoted: Moirean's expression immediately turns into a broad smile. She echoes the Earthen's laughter, albeit slightly uncertainly, and then happily says, "Well! That's easy enough, then!" Extending one hand for a handshake, she promises, "We'll get you the best stone-of-the-Earth wall there is to leave a magnificent hole in and you'll patch up the one you-" She falls silent as Faerah shouts out, her words drowned out in the woman's impressive roar. Her hand hangs out before her, forgotten and limp, as she stares over at Faerah in astonishment.

Faerah says, "Then why, are we still, here."

"YOU ARE EXALTED IN THE COMPANY OF WARMASTER RHAUV," Warmaster Rhauv answers, nodding his head with great certainty.

You say to Faerah, "Definitely not for wyrm rides."

You wink knowingly.

Flatly, Faerah says to you, "...You keep saying 'definitely not' when I'm quite sure you just mean the precise opposite."

You have emoted: Moirean nods knowingly and repeats, "DEFINITELY not."

You tap your nose knowingly.

"AHH. I SEE. 'WYRM RIDE' IS YOUR MORTAL EUPHEMISM." Warmaster Rhauv chuckles knowingly. "REFERRING TO GENITALS. VERY GOOD."

Warmaster Rhauv says, "WHAT STRANGE THINGS. GENITALS."

A rather large sigh escapes Faerah's chest as her gaze sets on Warmaster Rhauv. "Let's just... Get back to Spinesreach," she says to you. "The sooner this is fixed the sooner my ears will stop ringing from all the yelling."

You have emoted: Moirean blinks in astonishment, and then gives her head a shake. She points over to the wyrm, its stone body taking up half the sinkhole. "I mean that!" she squeaks out. "I rode it and it was great!"

Warmaster Rhauv says, "AH! WARMASTER RHAUV WAS MISTAKEN. QUITE GOOD."

You beam broadly.

Clearing her throat, you say, "Right! Well! I'll get to work on that wall finding. I think we're gonna need to consult with the Chief Engineer, to make sure it's a good wall and all that."

Flatly, Faerah says, "Yes. Kelliara will -love- having a hole punched into one of her walls."

With a shrug, you say to Faerah, "Better than she'd like a wyrm ride."

Sarita asks Warmaster Rhauv, in Earthen, "I trust my presence will not be required in the north?"

Warmaster Rhauv settles into what is probably a seated position, since his components seem to have settled into something like a mound. "SEE THAT YOU DO. IT MUST BE A FINE WALL. I ENVY YOUR SPIREAN STONE."

Warmaster Rhauv says to Sarita, "NAY, IMPERATOR. IT SHAN'T BE A MATTER OF DIPLOMACY."

Warmaster Rhauv says, "HOWEVER, I WOULD NOT DENY YOUR ACCOMPANIMENT."

Happily, you say to Sarita, "Everyone loves a good hole-making."

Dryly, Faerah says, "Not everyone."

You have emoted: Moirean clears her throat and hops once in place. "Right!" she declares, waving an enthusiastic farewell to the wyrm. "Until then!"

Warmaster Rhauv says, "FAREWELL, SMALL ONES."

--- THE END. FOR NOW. UNTIL HOLE-MAKING TIME. ---

#hroagh

Aarbrok

#mightyfinehole

I giggled so much during this.

Moirean

#newplaceforalltheballs

Ishin

WYRM RIDE

Faerah

I wish I had the log from when the hole was being made.

Rhauv came to Spinesreach yelling for a champion, walked into Faerah's room and was like YOU ARE THE CHAMPION, FIGHT MY WARD *PUNCH WALL*. And Ingram asked"...who is your ward?" and Rhauv summons in this tiny elemental minion with little arms and Noelle and Ingram were like *snicker* "...Have at it General." Then Rhauv said "REMEMBER YOUR TRAINING" to the little elemental and the elemental started attacking Faerah for 2hp hits and Noelle was like "...Just do it, Ma'am." So... Faerah sighed, garroted it, and it died in one hit leaving Rhauv shocked that Fae killed it in one hit and confused by why Ingram and Noelle couldn't hold back their laughter.

I laughed IRL. It was great. Thanks to whoever is playing Rhauv!