[Renown] Spooky Fog in the Bog [Private; Veliky & Leni]
Dec 15, 2022 6:40:06 GMT -5
Post by Veliky on Dec 15, 2022 6:40:06 GMT -5
Now, with her bearings, Veliky is as inscrutable as ever. She's as much an enigma as the dichotomy of lights that've bisected her face into territories, contrasted even further by her childlike, expressionless face.
She eyes the little, blue-scaled drake, with that same lack of expression as she listens. Otherwise, she offers neither of them much regard. In fact, her behaviour is so casual that she nearly has the audacity to take another bite from her sandwich. She would have, too, had she not realized that Leni has finished voicing her thoughts. And, even then, Veliky's reaction is benumbed.
"Yes, I am fully aware of the public opinion. That was the whole point." She allows her words to hang, as if they somehow constituted an explanation. Leni's lack of thorough elucidation only seems to frustrate her, arousing a sigh. "Alright, fine. Follow me."
The halfling plants her feet on the sheet of tin with dual clings, and rises to her full, unimpressive height. She neatly wraps the remaining half of her sandwich in a red handkerchief that seems disproportionately large for her, and takes a step forward. Only, she can't continue, as Moonlight is placed rather obtrusively in the path.
"Do you mind?" The nonchalance with which she regards it shows that it's as familiar to her as Nimbus is to Leni, though perhaps on less affectionate terms.
Veliky being as minuscule as she is, Moonlight must lower its lantern almost to the ground in order to properly see her.
"There is no 'you.' It is Moonlight."
But Veliky just rolls her eyes. "Right. Can 'it' get out of my way?"
"It can."
...
'It' isn't doing anything. Every second of inaction wanes on Veliky's patience - and mood.
"Kahn, you're worse than the bots."
Click. Without a moment's hesitance, she presses the button atop the lantern. Spurred by some eldritch mechanism, Moonlight begins to retract into the lantern. It's like watching water being poured from a pitcher, but backwards. The entire process is really rather slow; if it causes the flame any discomfort, such isn't voiced.
When there is little Moonlight left to speak of, Veliky grabs the lantern by its handle and continues to walk, every step clinking on the metal panels. Lopsided as they are, the panels make for uncomfortable pathing, but preferable to the alternative: slippery, fetid mud. She allows them to take her closer to the miners and their quarry, stopping only when the subtler details of the vein become visible.
"This," she begins with a gesture, "is tin. It's soft, it's weak and it tarnishes like a bastard."
The ensuing pause is riddled with the repetitive clinking of pick on stone and, farther away, the gross squelches of shovels in mud. She looks at the vein with real bitterness, like she's seeing at the most annoying person she's ever met.
"It's also what the bots' hulls and made from. That means we need a lot of it. That means we need a lot of mining permits, and mining permits are expensive."
Realizing that this explanation might be longer than she'd predicted, she sets the lantern down on the tin panel, beside her. Moonlight's embrous eye still burns within.
"But not here, in the Marsh Flats. Here, ownership of land is a complicated affair consisting mostly of never-ending tribal disputes. As such, getting a permit for anything here, is almost as difficult as attaining nobility."
The bots' swings are methodical and precise. A particularly well-aimed strike dislodges a large chunk of tin ore, which is quickly scooped and smashed into a sack full of other, similar chunks. It's a strangely mesmerizing process, like the diligence of a well-oiled machine made up of... well, machines.
But Veliky's well past finding any enjoyment in it, if she ever did. She watches impassively, arms crossed.
"Anyways, because demand is so damn high, we've got ears to the ground, listening for whenever a new tin deposit crops up. We found this one as part of a trolling op in Gazablaak. But, for the reasons I mentioned, we couldn't *technically* start a mine. I was ready to give up and move on." She turns her posture to Leni and Nimbus. She looks tired, but engaged; Leni's appearance is probably the only thing of note that's happened all day. "But then I started hearing the rumours: ghosts in the Hauntwood, disappearances, the sorts of stories that make people want to keep out. Superstition is a tangible force in the Marsh Flats, and I realized I could use that to my favour... I imagine you can see where this is going."
Her monologue, winding though it may be, is nearing its end. With this in mind, she turns back and returns to the stool, continuing only when she's firmly seated again.
"I started some rumours of my own. I had the house built -" She points up, as if to indicate the decrepit building that Leni'd stood in not long ago. "- to look as scary and gross as possible. Then, with the mine set up, I started using the bots for 'scare tactics,' which pretty much just entailed having them skulk around and startle people. Since nobody wanted to come anywhere near, we had this place to ourselves. Until you came."
Suddenly, her expression turns far more dire. Her eyes are upon Leni, like twin sunsets. By her gaze alone, the air suddenly feels manyfold more hostile; the inherent danger of just being here becomes oppressively apparent.
"Now that you're here, just what do you intend to do, Leni-Aura?"
She eyes the little, blue-scaled drake, with that same lack of expression as she listens. Otherwise, she offers neither of them much regard. In fact, her behaviour is so casual that she nearly has the audacity to take another bite from her sandwich. She would have, too, had she not realized that Leni has finished voicing her thoughts. And, even then, Veliky's reaction is benumbed.
"Yes, I am fully aware of the public opinion. That was the whole point." She allows her words to hang, as if they somehow constituted an explanation. Leni's lack of thorough elucidation only seems to frustrate her, arousing a sigh. "Alright, fine. Follow me."
The halfling plants her feet on the sheet of tin with dual clings, and rises to her full, unimpressive height. She neatly wraps the remaining half of her sandwich in a red handkerchief that seems disproportionately large for her, and takes a step forward. Only, she can't continue, as Moonlight is placed rather obtrusively in the path.
"Do you mind?" The nonchalance with which she regards it shows that it's as familiar to her as Nimbus is to Leni, though perhaps on less affectionate terms.
Veliky being as minuscule as she is, Moonlight must lower its lantern almost to the ground in order to properly see her.
"There is no 'you.' It is Moonlight."
But Veliky just rolls her eyes. "Right. Can 'it' get out of my way?"
"It can."
...
'It' isn't doing anything. Every second of inaction wanes on Veliky's patience - and mood.
"Kahn, you're worse than the bots."
Click. Without a moment's hesitance, she presses the button atop the lantern. Spurred by some eldritch mechanism, Moonlight begins to retract into the lantern. It's like watching water being poured from a pitcher, but backwards. The entire process is really rather slow; if it causes the flame any discomfort, such isn't voiced.
When there is little Moonlight left to speak of, Veliky grabs the lantern by its handle and continues to walk, every step clinking on the metal panels. Lopsided as they are, the panels make for uncomfortable pathing, but preferable to the alternative: slippery, fetid mud. She allows them to take her closer to the miners and their quarry, stopping only when the subtler details of the vein become visible.
"This," she begins with a gesture, "is tin. It's soft, it's weak and it tarnishes like a bastard."
The ensuing pause is riddled with the repetitive clinking of pick on stone and, farther away, the gross squelches of shovels in mud. She looks at the vein with real bitterness, like she's seeing at the most annoying person she's ever met.
"It's also what the bots' hulls and made from. That means we need a lot of it. That means we need a lot of mining permits, and mining permits are expensive."
Realizing that this explanation might be longer than she'd predicted, she sets the lantern down on the tin panel, beside her. Moonlight's embrous eye still burns within.
"But not here, in the Marsh Flats. Here, ownership of land is a complicated affair consisting mostly of never-ending tribal disputes. As such, getting a permit for anything here, is almost as difficult as attaining nobility."
The bots' swings are methodical and precise. A particularly well-aimed strike dislodges a large chunk of tin ore, which is quickly scooped and smashed into a sack full of other, similar chunks. It's a strangely mesmerizing process, like the diligence of a well-oiled machine made up of... well, machines.
But Veliky's well past finding any enjoyment in it, if she ever did. She watches impassively, arms crossed.
"Anyways, because demand is so damn high, we've got ears to the ground, listening for whenever a new tin deposit crops up. We found this one as part of a trolling op in Gazablaak. But, for the reasons I mentioned, we couldn't *technically* start a mine. I was ready to give up and move on." She turns her posture to Leni and Nimbus. She looks tired, but engaged; Leni's appearance is probably the only thing of note that's happened all day. "But then I started hearing the rumours: ghosts in the Hauntwood, disappearances, the sorts of stories that make people want to keep out. Superstition is a tangible force in the Marsh Flats, and I realized I could use that to my favour... I imagine you can see where this is going."
Her monologue, winding though it may be, is nearing its end. With this in mind, she turns back and returns to the stool, continuing only when she's firmly seated again.
"I started some rumours of my own. I had the house built -" She points up, as if to indicate the decrepit building that Leni'd stood in not long ago. "- to look as scary and gross as possible. Then, with the mine set up, I started using the bots for 'scare tactics,' which pretty much just entailed having them skulk around and startle people. Since nobody wanted to come anywhere near, we had this place to ourselves. Until you came."
Suddenly, her expression turns far more dire. Her eyes are upon Leni, like twin sunsets. By her gaze alone, the air suddenly feels manyfold more hostile; the inherent danger of just being here becomes oppressively apparent.
"Now that you're here, just what do you intend to do, Leni-Aura?"