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Post by Cronan on Jun 14, 2023 23:07:18 GMT -5
Upon awakening some days ago, Cronan has learnt a great deal, both about himself and the world he finds himself in. Astrid and Blue (More the former, but the latter to a lesser extent) have been great helps when it comes to Cronan's uncountable questions. Despite all that he has learnt, he still has far more questions. A lot of which could be taken so far out of context he might get arrested. Of course, he doesn't realize that yet and will most likely ask something that will result in violence, probably.
Sitting outside on a bench, not too far from a tavern is Cronan. A 6'5 suit of animated armor. The plates are an onyx black with golden inlays and engravings, largely meaning nothing other than on his pauldrons, where scenes of battle are illustrated. Something akin to a Panache is found on the back of the helmet. It's a vibrant red, and akin to long hair tied into a high ponytail. The panache would generally flow to around the small of Cronan's back, but he currently has it slung over a shoulder. He isn't sure why he's done that, more impulse than anything else.
Currently, it's a chilly night. The stars are out in their glory, the full moon illuminates the area well enough for Cronan to see clearly and the various sounds of the nearby tavern, and numerous crickets and various nocturnal animals making their calls fill the air. Cronan has associated a certain feeling to simply sitting and looking at the stars. Emotions have always been difficult for Cronan. He's fairly sure he feels them like anybody else, but he has no frame of reference or even a name to most of them. Describing them with what little he understands is an exercise in futility. So until he can discover what the name is or until someone tells him, he's opted to associate the feeling with the color blue. A light blue.
Cronan doesn't exactly expect company. Truthfully, he hasn't spoken to anybody other than a single vendor, Blue and Astrid, and perhaps one passerby who complimented his armor. That made him happy. Prideful, he could say. He associated pride with the color orange.
And so he sits, eerily still as he simply looks up toward the stars, wondering what exactly they are. There is just so many of them, apparently some people can navigate using them. That has confused Cronan - how can anybody navigate with stars? There are just too many to keep track of.
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Post by Eirine Thronos on Jun 14, 2023 23:47:16 GMT -5
Sky Peak Village was next on Eirene’s list of places to venture. It was a long way from the small, Solarian elf-dominated island society she had ventured to a week prior, but the sights were all worth it. She had taken a wagon from the shore of the Dragon’s Cradle all the way to this quaint little village, surrounded by rock cliff faces that she found absolutely gorgeous. She’d never seen mountains outside of books before, and they were even larger than she had read about. Such beauty should be better recorded.
Eirene enjoys long walks at night, blanketed in nothing but the stars and moon’s bright, beauteous gaze. She had just stepped out of the horse drawn wagon, giving the old man a bag of 30 solars for his trouble. The wagon itself veered back to its regular position now that she wasn’t weighing it down anymore, muttering a short and clipped apology and bowing.
It was cold, so Eirene Thronos squeezed her trenchcoat around her body tighter as she directed her eyes up. It was blaringly obvious that she was an astralblood, as even though the wings at her hips were folded into her sides and were covered by her coat, Eirene’s eyes were still present. Two golden halos encircled her head, and sprouted brilliant, white blue eyes that matched the down-turned ones on her face. The two normal eyes were framed by large, rounded glasses that stayed perched on her aquiline nose. They moved in almost the same direction consistently, catching the beleaguered and mortified expressions of late night stragglers. Eirene was also an impressively tall woman, standing at around 6’9, with her lithe and muscular form covered from the cold.
It took a few minutes for Eirene to find a tavern, relieved to find somewhere warm despite her love for the stars and moon. It was down the block, light and vibrant and light music playing. She wondered how busy the nights were in Sky Peak Village. Hopefully not too noisy; she needed some time to relax.
Coming up to the tavern, Eirene paused in her tracks, finding something amiss. Well, not quite amiss, that was very rude to say. However, her heeled boots clicked to a halt the moment she spotted a large, hulking form of what appeared to be a person in a suit of armor, seated on a bench a few yards away and across the street from said tavern. Every eye rotated in the direction of the strange armor, reminding her of something she’d read in a novel once.
It was a person, clearly, staring up at the stars. Were they an astronomer of sorts? Or perhaps a fanatic? Or perhaps, Eirene invented, they're simply just alone. Possibly bored as well, bored and alone. Alone and bored. The woman squeezed her coat tightly around herself at the cold gust that brushed her legs, shutting her eyes. It was quite unpleasant.
Now Eirene was having a dilemma: she had to pass the knight (that’s what she was calling them until further notice) to get to the tavern. Her social anxiety was beginning to bubble up, wondering how exactly she could sneak past this large figure without them noticing and starting a conversation. Rats, this was quite the predicament.
Eirene found herself standing there, around thirty seconds of her watching the figure like a particularly cautious cat, unblinking. Maybe if I stand still, they won't see me.
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Post by Cronan on Jun 15, 2023 0:10:22 GMT -5
Cronan really liked the stars tonight. It wouldn't be the first time Cronan remained 'awake' for an entire night simply gazing. Granted, he doesn't sleep, more accurately he goes inactive, but thats neither here nor there. Cronan lightly shifted in the seat just before something tickled the back of his mind. This was an odd feeling. Hm, this is new. Perhaps a deep red? No, that would closer resemble rage. Rusty Orange? Yes, that will do.
Color now decided, Cronan ever so slightly turned his head. Externally, it looked like nothing more than a slight shift, but the benefits of actually being the armor is that he doesn't need to deal with the limitations of visors. Just outside his peripheral vision was a rather large figure. Covered up in a warm looking cloak. I wonder if I could get a coat to go over the pauldrons? Hm, something to investigate. He notes to look into that at a later date. Right now, this person seems almost.. afraid?
To anybody else, Cronan would generally have no feasible way of actually seeing this figure, but as stated before, he has the benefit of not dealing with that whatsoever. Upon further inspection, this figure seems feminine - although he has been wrong before. On top of that, her race seems somehow familiar.. It takes him a moment to pinpoint what it is. Astralblood. How do I know that? Hm. Questions upon questions tonight.
With yet another mystery solved, only to spark another mystery, Cronan feels mildly frustrated with his knowledge, but brushes it aside for now. He fears that he's making the newcomer uncomfortable, and she has been staring for at least a full minute by this point. Perhaps talking might put her at ease? Bad people tend to lurk silently, and he doesn't feel like a bad person.
"Excuse me, am I making you uncomfortable, miss?" He asks easily before turning his head to look at her directly. His voice immediately feels wrong to anybody other than him. His voice is deep but oddly elegant - if he had a face, it wouldn't be wrong to imagine him with a brilliant goatee. However, the strangeness comes from the fact that his voice doesn't echo like it would if someone were to speak from under a helmet.
He speaks in an easy, hopefully welcoming tone, trying to disarm the tense woman. He knows loud voices tend to cause stress, so perhaps the opposite is true? He's not certain, but at least he's trying.
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Post by Eirine Thronos on Jun 15, 2023 1:02:24 GMT -5
Oh Ginma, they spoke.
Being addressed by the armored individual was part of Eirene’s expectations, but it spooked her regardless. Her face didn’t change much, but she side-glanced the tavern a ways away, her face stiff as she tried to justify if pretending she hadn’t heard the person speak. They sounded more masculine, though not befitting the suit of armor they adorned. She also noted the cadence of the armored individual’s voice, in that he (she would have to ask for certainty) had no hollow tremor to his voice. It was smooth, too much so.
After another five seconds of wide eyed gaping, horrifying any who had the misfortune of seeing the back of Eirene’s head and make direct eye contact with the eyes not looking directly at the seated person, the astralblood heard that incessant nagging in the back of her head, telling her that it isn’t polite to stare. Despite her height and appearance, Eirene’s body language was awfully minute.
“I’m sorry.” Is all she manages after a few seconds of intense, dead silent staring. Eirene’s voice is low and warm, a sophisticated tremor to it that didn’t match her history much at all. Considering her selective muteness to all save for the school children back home, this was a pretty big step. She really wants to communicate better, even if it’s outside of her comfort zone.
“I’m…um…” Eirene persisted, frozen in place and struggling to speak. He was being nice enough, at the very least. The cold was forgotten as her fear of ruining a regular conversation surfaced. The last thing she needed was to frighten someone away, she may go fully silent again. Eirene was wracking her brain for something else to say. What did people her age talk about? What did Isolde tell her to do to start healthy conversations? Eye contact was a bit iffy, as she couldn’t see this person’s eyes through the visor, but what was the other thing?
“A-Are you, um, looking at the stars?” She blurted, remembering something about finding common ground, or something. Was it common ground? Ginma, she couldn't remember. Eirene was still rooted to her spot, but she leaned forward slightly, her fingernails digging into her coat. Realizing she didn't answer the question though, Eirene mentally slapped herself. Now she had to address that, why didn't she do that first? "Oh, I don't, that is, I'm not discomforted. Sorry."
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Post by Cronan on Jun 15, 2023 1:46:08 GMT -5
As the woman spoke, seemingly struggling with words (which is fair, honestly), Cronan cocked his head to the side, letting the woman speak her piece. His attention was primarily on the rings around her head during the silent portions. He found them fascinating, to be perfectly honest. Could she see through the eyes on them? They widened as the pair of eyes on her head widened, so perhaps she can? Perhaps a question to ask if she decides to stick around.
"You need not apologize, miss, for you've done nothing wrong. I do not mind people staring - it is rather difficult to escape being looked at with this armor, after all." He interjects for a moment, allowing the woman to continue speaking uninterrupted.
"I am unsure whether to believe that statement or not, miss. However, I understand if you are in fact telling me a lie, I know I can be a relatively imposing figure." Cronan pauses a moment, thinking back on her previous question, looking back up as he answers. "And yes, I am looking at the stars. I am unsure on what they are, but they bring a certain.. Hm. I am unsure on the word for the feeling. I simply feel like I could forget everything when I am gazing upon the sky. Do you know what I mean?" He looks back toward the Astralblood with his head tilted slightly. It's been difficult conveying emotions that would generally be on facial features, seeing as he has no face to speak of.
Cronan pauses again, processing all that was said. "Not good at talking to people, I assume? That is perfectly understandable - I am not the best either." Hell, the concept of talking and socializing was something he discovered mere days ago. He is relying on his vocabulary hard. Despite his mannerisms, he really doesn't know what he is doing. "Ah, where are my manners; My name is Cronan. May I ask for your name, miss?"
Asking for names and introductions was generally a first step, but it appears that Cronan forgot that detail for a moment. Ah, talking is difficult. Too many customs to remember and too many lines to tread carefully. Now, this also presented a different question: Should he reveal his nature to this woman? She already seems skittish, and he's unsure on how she'll react to being told she is speaking with a hollow suit of armor. However, Blue and Astrid didn't seem to be perturbed by this fact - indeed, they were instead excited. Perhaps he should tell her? He will give it more thought in the meantime.
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Post by Eirine Thronos on Jun 15, 2023 12:57:05 GMT -5
“That, um, is true.” Eirene agreed with the individual, Cronan, as he introduced. She honestly couldn’t draw her eyes away, curious as to where he came from and why, with such complex armor. Eirene was failing to comprehend where Cronan’s face was, still not moving from her firmly rooted position. She remembered Isolde telling her to get closer if she wanted to have a conversation, as it wasn’t exactly polite to shout across a long distance. Still, Eirene was nervous, not wanting to approach if she wasn’t invited.
The astralblood’s fingers stuttered along her coat buttons when Cronan called out her lie and social ineptitude, though he didn’t seem to care all that much, thankfully. In fact, he verbally communicated that he could relate. Her poor mind was a sandbox in a typhoon, not really sure what to say next until he beckoned for her name. Eirene remembered this too, though she was quite certain that they were doing things out of order. Aren’t you supposed to introduce each other first? And then you shake hands and talk about—
“My name is Eirene. Eirene Thronos.” The woman interrupted her own mangled train of thought. It was probably due to the time and weather outside, but she was feeling a little braver tonight, not allowing herself to overthink. Find common ground, she reminded herself, looking up at the stars above. For once, she swerved the conversation, keeping her stuttering to a minimum as she circled back to previous topics. “Are you…perhaps searching for the word tranquility? It’s one I use sometimes, i-it’s another word for peace. The stars bring about a certain comfort to many, unless, um, that is the word you speak of? Comfort? T-There are many to describe the sky.”
Eirene forced herself to stop talking, trying not to ramble. Language was something she found deeply comforting, both as a subject and a medium. While not able to speak well, the woman was clearly well-learned enough to sound like she knew what she was talking about, so long as she got the thought out. Without really thinking, Eirene took a quick two steps forward, walking into the light as she squinted up at the stars above. In the light, small golden freckles dotted her cheeks and nose, just enough to be noticeable only when one were to be standing directly in front of her.
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Post by Cronan on Jun 15, 2023 18:04:47 GMT -5
"Comfort.. Yes, I believe that is what I was looking for, Thank you, Miss Thronos." He bows his head slightly as he thanks Eirine. He learnt a few new words for some emotions, which is nice. Well, he already knew the words, he didn't know the definitions. This has helped immensely.
With Eirine walking into the light, it granted Cronan a better look, which only cemented his certainty on the woman being Astralblood. He suddenly felt like his formality was more warranted. Curious. Cronan looked over to where the tavern was. Cronan noticed her glancing over there a number of times. "Miss Thronos, if I am not holding you away from the tavern, you are more than welcome to take a seat if you wish." He gestures to the bench he is sat upon. He's currently sat on the edge, so there is more than enough space to keep distance between the two.
Cronan himself is able to hold a conversation - thankfully. Body language, facial expressions and social cues are the bane of his existence, however. Now, to keep the conversation moving. "Ah, if you'll forgive my assumption, but you are Astralblood, correct? I do not remember meeting an Astralblood previously, but I feel as if this is not a first meeting with your people." Cronan cocks his head in thought. Where has he seen another Astralblood? This mildly annoys Cronan. Memory is always finnicky.
"My apologies, my memory has always been questionable at best. I seem to remember the strangest things, yet cannot remember the names of emotions such as comfort." He says, sounding slightly irritated with himself. He figures honesty is the pathway to a reliable friendship, so has decided to be as honest as he can during this interaction. Perhaps it'll even put Eirine more at ease.
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Post by Eirine Thronos on Jun 15, 2023 22:51:15 GMT -5
Eirene nodded at the thanks, unsure what to say from that point on. Thankfully, Cronan seemed better suited for a conversation, even for someone who claimed to not be good at conversation. Then again, maybe anyone could be considered good at conversation when they spoke to her. Eirene slightly deflated at the realization.
The offer to have her sit was not what she was expecting in the slightest. “Oh…! Um.” Eirene looked around, not too many people about at this time of night. Those who were had been fumbling around in the dark, drunk off their minds and too intoxicated to notice much of anything. Eirene didn’t quite know why she was looking around, there was no one around she was looking for.
Then she nodded to herself, figuring why not. Going around the world looking for books in unfamiliar places was incredible exposure therapy for her, and this Cronan seemed kind enough. It’s not like she was in a rush to get anywhere until morning. She had a few readings to flip through tomorrow, sitting down and resting for a bit longer wouldn’t kill her.
Eirene hesitated, but then nodded to herself, walking over to the bench with a swift click of her heels against cobblestone. She took a seat beside Cronan, realizing just how strange he looked up close. There were so many intricacies to his armor; it was fascinating. Who had designed it for him? He was quite kind for what looked like a warrior. Sitting beside him, she was slightly taller than him. It wouldn’t be incredibly obvious if she weren’t sitting ramrod straight.
“Please do not apologize. I-I am an astralblood.” Eirene answered swiftly. Reminding herself to not speak too quickly, she cleared her throat. “Memories are fickle, but how does one forget things like that? Have you lost your memories? That’s what you’re saying, is it?”
Eirene sat on the far end of the bench, giving her a bit of confidence to fully turn her head to silently inspect Cronan’s movements and body language. He didn’t exactly have body language though, which was bewildering. He moved, but it was very mechanical and unnatural. At first she assumed him to be an undead being, but Cronan emitted no smell to indicate as such.
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Post by Cronan on Jun 15, 2023 23:55:52 GMT -5
"The loss of memories suggest that I've lost them all. That is not quite the case, although I have knowledge that I am unsure of where they come from, such as my recognition of your race. Perhaps this makes little sense." Cronan looks downward, thinking for a moment. Indeed, his motions seem robotic and unnatural. Everything that he doesn't intend to move does not move, and other than him lightly shifting previously, he has remained completely motionless outside of turning his head.
"I recently awakened mere days ago, so my knowledge is.. questionable at best." It takes him a moment to realize that him 'awakening' makes no sense in the context of flesh and blood, and swiftly fills in the unknowns. "For context, I am a construct, per-se. Animated armor, I believe the correct term is. Apologies if this is a lot of information all at once." He pauses, allowing Eirine to process what he is saying. That is usually what needs to be done when someone informs you of a jarring reality, correct?
Now, Cronan's perception of 'processing time' is a bit skewed, and waits a little too long before he speaks again, causing a slightly uncomfortable pause. "I have been trying to discover my past. I am certain I have one, but I have no memory of it or how I came to be. A large puzzle that I don't have a reference for, nor all the pieces. It is.. annoying, I believe the word is." He says, looking back up toward the stars, enjoying the sense of comfort they provide.
After a mere glance upward, he turns toward Eirine. "That is enough about me, however. Do stop me if this is rude to ask, but the rings around your head; are you able to see through those eyes? I noticed that they widened when your own pair did, and it simply made me wonder." He asks cautiously. He still needs to learn limits and social cues, but that might be something that he needs to work on with time.
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Post by Eirine Thronos on Jun 16, 2023 13:04:53 GMT -5
Eirene listened quietly, a much better listener than speaker, evidently. She let him speak his whole piece on his memories, and she immediately felt silent pity for that. His next words about who, or rather what he is, startled Eirene for a moment. She blinked, unsure of how rude it would be to continue staring at the construct, as he had now been identified. Eirene wasn’t a total stranger to automatons, having seen a few from her time travelling, but she reckoned this was slightly different than that. Animated armor suggested granting life to a suit of armor, obviously, but that could mean a few things.
Eirene’s knowledge of the occult and their methods for creation were, well, abysmal, at best. However, what it seemed that Cronan resembled was the extraction of a soul or other intelligence that was promptly placed into his metallic body. She didn’t know how or why it happened, but that was her budding hypothesis. Was it rude to build hypotheses on strangers? Goodness this interaction was taking a lot out of her.
With her thoughts keeping her occupied, Eirene barely noticed the awkward silence, Cronan speaking again to fill the fraction of silence that hung in the air. The woman nodded her head, sharp, jerky movements that showed her general discomfort but also her eagerness to listen. It was a pitiable thing, though she knew that pity couldn’t always be quantified as concern. Some people found it degrading, so she didn’t express it aloud, pursing her lips together.
Then Cronan addressed her, and she was out of the safe haven that was her noisy thoughts. Questions about her eyes usually came from children; those her age (and evidently much older, if her assumptions about Cronan were correct) usually electing to stare. Eirene blinked, genuinely a little off put by the question, not expecting it.
“Oh, that’s not rude at all.” Eirene said easily, growing slightly more comfortable talking. “I can see through them yes. I have greater peripheral vision than most, but the few on the back of my head can’t see as well. It’s…blurred, for lack of a better term.” Eirene answered, asking a quick question of her own: “I’d imagine you can but I suppose I’m also curious, how well can you see? You know where I am, evidently, but is that just because you can hear me? Or can you see?”
Another question popped into mind, and Eirene tugged at her coat. “Ah, are you cold? I don’t know if you can feel it but I thought I should ask.”
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Post by Cronan on Jun 17, 2023 0:44:25 GMT -5
Cronan listened as Eirine confirmed that she can see through the eyes. It was interesting that the eyes at the back of her head are blurry. Cronan idly wonders why that is. Cronan wasn't entirely expecting a question shot back at him, but he answered swiftly nonetheless. "I have what I assume to be average eyesight and peripheral vision to anybody with two eyes. Of course, I cannot compare to your own eyesight, but I am not hindered by the visor. It's less me seeing from under the helmet than it is my head being the helmet. It is difficult to describe."
"I did, however, spot you almost immediately after you froze and began to stare. I hope me being a technically non-living being is not causing any form of distress for you, Miss Thronos." He says with a measured and calm tone. It would be rather upsetting to learn he was causing distress to her - she seems rather nice, he thinks. That belief is only strengthened by her next question.
"Ah, do not worry about me. I have never minded the cold. Your concern means a lot, Miss Thronos. It is concern, correct? I have been told I am not very good with social cues, and it is something I wish to work on." Cronan responds. He does feel cold, but as he said, it doesn't really bother him. He's not even sure if a coat would do anything since he doesn't generate body heat.
Cronan is about to say something before the distinct sound of a chair being thrown out a window from the tavern breaks the silence. Cronan immediately snaps his head toward the sound while extending his hand to the side. Eirine would see Cronan's gauntlet open up and begin shooting out small fragments which begins to quickly form together into what seems to be a greatsword that he has no right to be able to wield. The blade itself looks to be damn near 7ft in length.
The sword finishes it's piecemeal generation and Cronan takes a hold of it with apparent ease. The entire process took no more than ten seconds to finish Cronan stands up smoothly and rests the blade on his shoulder, watching the chaos in the tavern. Quite the chaotic barfight seems to be taking place inside. Cronan turns toward Eirine, the Panache now hanging down his back, since removed from his shoulder once he stood.
"Perhaps we should go see if we can assist in that matter? Would you like to join me, Miss Thronos?"
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Post by Eirine Thronos on Jun 17, 2023 15:43:58 GMT -5
Eirene nodded, taking this information with careful consideration. She supposed she should have been slightly more put off by the nature of Cronan’s existence, but in all honesty, it wasn’t the strangest thing she’d ever seen. He was certainly up there, in terms of peculiarity.
The astralblood was evidently horrendous at feigning her nonchalance, but it still sent a shock of embarrassment through her when Cronan pointed out that he caught her staring almost instantaneously. One of the number one things Eirene had learned was that staring was incredibly rude, but it was her first instinct. What’s worse was Cronan’s implications that he could be causing distress, and suddenly her hands shot up, flailing around wildly with her head bowed slightly.
“Please, you’ve caused me no such distress.” Eirene quickly amended. “You do live, just a bit differently than I. It’s natural to be concerned, I-I’m just not used to speaking so much.” Eirene chuckled under her breath, an awkward sound that probably wasn’t emitted very often. It didn’t help that it seemed like she didn't know how to smile wider than an upward quirk of the lips.
It was around this time that the loud, crashing sound of a chair flying through the window drew both individuals’ attention across the street. Eirene jumped in surprise, shocked at the rising noise coming from the new hole in the glass. It only sounded like it would get increasingly worse, if the loud shouting and laughter were anything to go by.
Cronan summoning what looked to be the largest sword she’d ever seen only startled her more, her knees turning away in instinct and her eyes gaping. Fascinating, she thought to herself. She wondered if he was an actual warrior in his original life. Looking at the rather impressive display of Cronan’s power, Eirene finally processed his words.
“Ah, yes! Though it sounds…rowdy in there.” Eirene remarked lamely. She stood up, brushing herself off and bringing her hands up automatically to hug her sides, tugging at a loose thread with her blunt nails. She hadn’t got into a fight since the Crescent Isles; this could prove to be troubling. Eirene was definitely a lover rather than a fighter, but considering this interaction would hopefully work to ease the conflict, she couldn’t be opposed. Then she recalled something, and Eirene quickly chimed in. “Um, also, please just call me Eirene. Miss Thronos is what my students call me. Unless you’re more comfortable with Miss Thronos? Then please disregard that.”
This is said rather quickly, and promptly after that something follows the sound of shouting fills the air, and a man crashes through the window, making a new hole beside the one previous. Eirene jumped again, flinching as the man struggled to stand, ultimately succumbing to his injuries and falling unconscious. “…Perhaps sooner rather than later.”
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Post by Cronan on Jun 17, 2023 16:38:43 GMT -5
It makes Cronan glad that he's not causing any undue distress within Eirine. That would be bad. He would normally say this aloud, but the situation has taken a drastic turn with chairs being thrown out the tavern window. Cronan slings the blade onto his back, where it latches on.. something? It's unclear what it's held by now that it's on his back, but it's resting diagonally so the tip of the blade isn't dragging on the ground.
"Ah, you are a teacher? If you are amenable after this situation is sorted, perhaps I shall ask more about that, Miss-.. Eirine." He corrects himself. Ever since he's been awoken, it's been almost a habit that he has to use Mr, Miss and various other titles instead of a first name. He's kept with that unless he is told otherwise, such as this situation. Cronan is about to speak again before the person is thrown out the window and promptly falls unconscious.
"Hm. Yes, perhaps sooner rather than later. Let us go. I do not know any healing magic for that poor fellow, sadly. Perhaps I should learn sometime." He says as he begins marching toward the tavern. Now that he's walking properly, all previous indication that he was an animated suit of armor vanishes. He walks with care and elegance, but with a purpose - almost walking like the armor isn't even there if it were a person underneath it all.
Making his way to the door, the sounds of complete mayhem ring out into the night air through the broken window. Crashing, yelling and cursing can be heard from inside. So much so that Cronan finds himself learning a few new words. He won't use them, but they're nice to know. Something akin to a steadying breath can be heard from Cronan. Despite his lack of a respiratory system, he's found the act to be quite steadying indeed, even if it's just the noise.
Opening the door with a slam announces the pairs presence and the noise inside the tavern hits them full blast. Despite the door, the chaos continues. People are fighting, people are being thrown around and having various pieces of furniture thrown at and around them - Cronan idly wonders how something can get so out of hand.
Stepping in through the door, he needs to go in kind of sideways in order to avoid bashing the absurdly long blade on the doorframe. His actions remain graceful as it almost feels like the sword suddenly became a part of him with how conscious Cronan seems of it. In actuality, he's simply very protective of it and doesn't want it damaged.
Once inside, Cronan looks around, and suddenly his voice booms out. "Enough." Despite the volume of his voice, he still sounds calm and collected, almost as if he turned up a volume dial instead of shouted. With the sudden, unexpected noise, all heads turn toward Cronan, and everybody freezes up minus a couple of people off in a corner. It is a fair reaction to seeing a tall armored individual with a blade that is longer than he is tall.
Cronan scans the room, and points to an individual who looks frankly terrified and beckons him to approach. "Mister, if you could please explain what has happened here, that would be greatly appreciated." He says. Strangely enough, there is a certain change in his voice that makes one almost feel like he'd be smiling if he were capable of doing so.
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"Curiouser and curiouser..." - Lewis Carrol
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Post by Eirine Thronos on Jun 17, 2023 18:17:31 GMT -5
Eirene wasn’t opposed to talking to Cronan for longer, preserving some energy as she had napped on the wagon into town. It was curious that the first person she had grown comfortable speaking to barely qualified as a person by their society. How ironic. She nodded her head in answer, a ghost of the smallest of smiles on her lips.
It was unfortunate as they passed the man who had fainted, Eirene crouching down and placing two fingers under his nose to check for breathing. Unfortunately, the astralblood didn’t know any spells to help with his sorry state, but at least he was breathing. Exhaling heavily, Eirene picked up the man in a bridal carry, the definition of her arms bulging slightly through the trench coat. She carried him over to the front of the tavern, peeking over Cronan’s shoulder as he silenced the clamoring. It was impressive, to put things simply.
It looked absolutely atrocious inside, making Eirene wonder in absolute bewilderment what had happened. The many eyes that landed on Cronan flicked to Eirene too, the untucked strands of her hair blowing in the temperamental wind and the gleam of the tavern glinting brightly over her glasses. There were a lot of people inside, most looking a step away from blackout drunk.
The man who Cronan is speaking to doesn’t look any older than Eirene, maybe 20 to 21, and with a frightened glance around the tavern he quickly approaches, hiding behind Cronan. Eirene watches him, concerned, but in her peripheral she saw someone take a few steps forward. This person looks burly, an older human and standing with an entourage of frankly barbaric looking individuals, wearing skins and furs with tangled beards.
Not giving the other man time to respond, the barbaric man bellowed, sound every bit of sloshed as he was: “Never let an unreliable pissant like that tell you the business that doesn’t fuckin’ pay ‘im! They’s the ones that swindled our coin over there!” The man angrily gestured with what looked like a table leg across the tavern. The people he was referring to appeared to be half orcs, just as brutish and snarling. They had the most bodies it seemed, one of their number dropping a man to the ground when Cronan called for silence.
There was a half orc woman that stepped forward then, pointing accusatorily at the man with a growl: “Like you didn’t start it! You stole from us first, ya filthy buncha thieves!!”
The argument that ensued was enough for the fighting to start back up again, and Eirene cringed away as a chair flying through the air signaled another round. The noise was hurting the astralblood’s ears, and she bit her lip.
“…Well this is a bit of a mess…” She whispered, startling the boy who didn’t realize Eirene was standing behind her Cronan. He shouted, whirling around to stare at her and Eirene shouted as well, taking a startled step back like she'd seen a mouse. “Ah s-sorry!”
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Post by Cronan on Jun 17, 2023 18:49:56 GMT -5
Cronan believed himself to be a patient man. Perhaps this was the night that proved otherwise, because his patience was being tested. As the fighting starts back up with barely any explanation on what is happening, Cronan once again raised his voice, this time it truly did sound like he was shouting, and he didn't sound very happy. "ENOUGH."
"I have entered this tavern in order to assist and resolve whatever issues have risen, no matter what that issue is. Now, one of you explain what has happened immediately." There is a sense of authority as he speaks, walking further into the tavern. Each step is accompanied by the light jingle of chainmail and the heavy footfall of what seems to be incredibly heavy armor. His attention turns toward the side of the half-orcs as he gestures to the woman who spoke.
"Ma'am, if you can please explain what has happened." He says. The way it was worded seems less of a request and more of a command. There is a certain feel to him that wouldn't be out of place for a battalion commander. The clearly enraged woman looks Cronan up and down and attempts to make eye-contact through the visor.
"They've gone and taken our bettin' money, the lowlife shit-eatin' tattered cloth wearin'.." Her tirade goes on for an impressive amount of time. As the woman insults the opposite mans entire bloodline and history, Cronan scans across the scene. On the bar sits a small pouch that looks suspiciously like a coin pouch. As the woman continues, Cronan walks over, picks the pouch up, walks back to the woman and interrupts her onslaught by presenting her with the pouch.
"This wouldn't happen to be yours, would it?" He asks, holding the pouch out to her. The half-orc looks confused, then concerned, then back into confused and then bashful. She has a look like she wants to be mad, but no longer has a reason to be. Cronan turns toward the opposing side, whos big man in charge looks even angrier than before.
"And you, Mister. What has happened, exactly? You said this group here stole your coin? Are you certain you haven't misplaced your pouch like this madam has by accident?"
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