open NPC post

[rowan_narrators]

WHO: Nazarene, Lloy, Aihlen, Aspen, Tori, and introducing Melquiades
WHAT: being out and about and available for chatting
WHEN: Friday afternoon
WHERE: all over the city
NOTES: please specify in the subject line of your comment which NPC you would like to interact with

Nazarene hated coming into town now. Time was not predictable, and she hated

Comments

Melquiades

[not_even_dreams]

Sam remembered very well how Jhelbor had shone during the battle for the city, and it wasn't anything like this. That had been chaos, a jumble of auras and spells and shimmering rain. This was more like walking through an interminable dazzling fog. The voices didn't help, either. He was constantly distracted, recently to the point that it was difficult to work.

Now why did that seem so familiar.

He was spending more and more time at home, but once in a while he just had to get out and get some air, and get away from his entirely unhelpful roommate. He thanked whatever god or gods had sent Guy back to him -- really he did. But every time he remembered Guy had some sort of connection back to that god, and still couldn't help him at all... That got a little frustrating.

He wasn't much interested in walking, now that he was outside. He broke away from the traffic of the walkway and settled down by a building, pulling his knees up to his chin. He barely even registered the elf sitting a matter of feet to his left.

shaman bonding tiem GO

[iknowstuffmaybe]

The voices were getting louder. Sharper too, almost...more real, full of slick desert heat and the roar of a rockslide and the glittercool taste of moonlight and the old familiar scent of old pages/clock's tick/viscous texture of ink over his fingers.

They were louder and all overlapping and why - oh. He blinked a little at the brightness of the other shaman's aura, only some of it his own. So. This must be the Wedge.

Mel tossed a pebble so that it skittered over the cobbles near the man's feet.

"Below-type troubles?" he asked sympathetically.

yee-ha!

[not_even_dreams]

Sam squinted over at the elf. It took a moment to understand what he'd meant -- of course. 'Gods below.'

"Could say so."

[iknowstuffmaybe]

"Utterly ambiguous. I like it." He gave Sam a rueful expression and held out a hand.

"I'm Mel. And you?"

[not_even_dreams]

"Lowry. Sam Lowry." Sam gave a lopsided attempt at a smile as he shook Mel's hand.

He examined Mel's aura briefly, then sat back, unsurprised. "You too?" He'd been a little worried he was the only one: he hadn't heard anything from Cassandra.

[iknowstuffmaybe]

"It's a bit like sitting in the middle of sandstorm, isn't it?" He shook his head warily.

"I've never heard them like this."

[not_even_dreams]

"I'd never heard them, full stop." And he'd actually been hoping for something like this. Wouldn't have admitted it to anyone who asked, but it was the reason he'd started sleeping without silk months ago.

If the alternative was boredom... It was a tough call.

"At least that sheds some light on the seriousness of the situation."

[iknowstuffmaybe]

Melquiades blinked, actually surprised.

"Never? That seems...well, normal enough, if it were anyone but you. Or perhaps I'm reading it all wrong."

[not_even_dreams]

...What? Sam was almost certain Mel was reading him wrong. Any Rowan shaman should have first heard the gods at a much younger age than Sam had. Right?

"I'm a worldwalker," he explained. "God wasn't exactly talkative where I came from."

[iknowstuffmaybe]

Mel nodded, even though he could see the anomaly of other-worldliness in the man's aura. They were all a bit on edge, after all.

"They usually aren't particularly loquacious here either - at least not to us. It's always tricky keeping them interested for long. Although listening to them sniping at each other like this is forcing me to revise that opinion somewhat."

[not_even_dreams]

Sam's brow furrowed, confused. Perhaps he was the one misunderstanding.

"So, if they don't speak up much, why would it be odd for me never to have heard them before?"

[iknowstuffmaybe]

Mel nibbled his lip, not sure how much to say. What if he was wrong and he sent the new shaman astray? Then again, Mister Sam Lowry might be an important part of this puzzle.

"Because whatever they're up to, I'm pretty sure they're not the reason we can hear their chatter blaring all over the city. I've heard a few snatches of discussion about 'the Wedge,' and the way it all got louder when you came over, I thought maybe that meant you."

[not_even_dreams]

"I'd assumed they were referring to some sort of place." He remembered 'go back to the Wedge.' It had been spoken by the one the gods kept calling 'worldwalker,' he thought. "Are you certain 'the Wedge' means a person?"

[iknowstuffmaybe]

"No, I'm not sure," Mel admitted easily. "That's not really how they talk about places in the Middle World, though. They usually refer to people - including each other - through some sort of function, but it could be a thing as well as a person, I suppose."

[not_even_dreams]

"Oh." Sam leaned his head back against the wall.

"So what if I am?" He asked with the air of someone accustomed to being important against his will.

[iknowstuffmaybe]

"If you are, I'd be rather curious how exactly you opened the opened the floodgates, as it were," he told Sam openly.

"Or maybe you are responsible but that's not what the Wedge does. I don't know. Usually I can get Brisa to give me at less semi-decipherable answers, but. She's as busy as the rest of them, at the moment." He sighed softly. For all that things were one in time, he really did like to know stuff.