There is a gargoyle pacing the length of the bar, head down the entire way until he comes to the wall where a door should be. Then he stands and regards it before turning and making another lap in his pacing
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The weirdness quotient of the Bar just went up again, thinks Knox as he sees...something. Something big, and purple, and big, and in need of a tailor, and winged, and did we mention big?
Golaith pauses and looks at the man then down at the floor. There are perhaps a few scuff marks from his claws but nothing major. "I'm not doing any damage."
Never has Hale seen anything of the like in the gargoyle.
Goliath looks like a man, but only barely.
In fact he looks more like a man caught halfway between "human" and "beast".
It makes Hale think of the tales told to the Cheysuli warning of the dangers of lir-shape; of what can happen when the precious balance is lost and the unfortunate victim becomes neither beast nor man but a little of both, and possessing not the good sense of either.
Goliath is a warrior centuries old, he knows what it feels like when someone is watching you. Lifting his head he turns and regards the one who appears to be staring at him, lifting his lip barely in a slight snarl.
So is Hale, though he can't quite claim the number of years Goliath can. He has his lir after all. A Cheysuli is not a warrior until he claims a lir.
In Hale's case it's the silver vixen at his feet. One of the cleverest if not the most awe-inspiring of lir animals. A mountain cat or a bear is more likely to make an outsider think "warrior" than a fox would.
That can be discussed later.
"You are new here," he says, stating the obivious. And hoping this man-beast still has a human enough tongue to speak with.
Goliath stops and frowns at the man, stooping slightly to be more on level with him. "I am fine. Are you?" He's ready to offer a supporting arm but doesn't want to scare the man.
He watches the man carefully but despite his appearance he seems to be holding up fairly well. Goliath draws back seeing the man doesn't need help but remaining stooped so he doesn't have to look up.
"My name is Goliath. I came here last night." And now it is day and that has him confused as much as everything else. "I don't mean any trouble, I just need to leave."
A gargoyle now this is something that requires further investigating. From her position in the rafters she has watched him pacing the bar. Eventually the time came for her to decend and speak with him.
He spins around quickly, startled from his thoughts and searching. Finally he looks down and sees the woman and eases up slightly. Wrapping his wings on his shoulders after perhaps almost just hitting her with them in his quick turn around. "Hello."
"Are you alright?" she asks a little concerned. Somehow she doesn't get the feeling that this creature is evil and she has learned to trust her instincts on such things.
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"Hello?"
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He nearly made a few mistakes last night and so he's trying to hold back on the aggression now but he is still wary.
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"You're gonna wear a groove in the floor, fella."
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[ooc: huge, huge fan of the show - even been to three of the cons - so, squee!]
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[ooc: hooray! Oh, if only I could win the lottery there are so many cons I would go to. *sighs*]
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Goliath looks like a man, but only barely.
In fact he looks more like a man caught halfway between "human" and "beast".
It makes Hale think of the tales told to the Cheysuli warning of the dangers of lir-shape; of what can happen when the precious balance is lost and the unfortunate victim becomes neither beast nor man but a little of both, and possessing not the good sense of either.
To say Hale is put out is an understatement.
Goliath is frightening.
Worthy of the tales of old.
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In Hale's case it's the silver vixen at his feet. One of the cleverest if not the most awe-inspiring of lir animals. A mountain cat or a bear is more likely to make an outsider think "warrior" than a fox would.
That can be discussed later.
"You are new here," he says, stating the obivious. And hoping this man-beast still has a human enough tongue to speak with.
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"Ama'idan, is there aught I may assist with?"
He offers his hands (twigs and leather, dried out and frail), cupped in them is his Security badge.
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"I heal. The price was well worth the results. You are new, here, I think."
He puts the badge back on his belt, movements holding a certain form of grace which he only manages when he is moving from purest willpower;
"I am Arithon s'Ffalenn, Master of Shadows and member of Security."
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"My name is Goliath. I came here last night." And now it is day and that has him confused as much as everything else. "I don't mean any trouble, I just need to leave."
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"Hello." she greets as she lands just behind him.
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