Tal shrugged easily, understanding the other Halovian maybe better than Iskra realized. "Might've. but I was usually out on th'trail, makin' th'Tundra an' Sea o' Glass supply runs. Only tucked up into th'Citadel durin' Deepfrost when we couldn't travel anyways. Leastways not til after th'War." When the Eirachi's centuries-old curse had finally been broken and a semblance of normal seasons had returned to the region. Tal, too, had spent most of his life deliberately avoiding other people, aside from brief interactions to delivery their parcels. He perked up at the mention of Sunjata, however, nodding agreement. "Yeah, he's great. King's End is comin' along real nice these days. Should have some protections up from th'Void critters soon, at least 'round th'Barrows!" And if there was equal parts relief and pride in that statement, well, who could blame him?
"A greataxe?" Tal looked impressed - and maybe just a little wistful. "Always thought those looked badass. Wished I had th'build for 'em." He was all lean whipcord and leather beneath his tanned skin, and it didn't take much to imagine that he'd been a scrawny, weedy runt of a youth, undersized until he'd finally hit his adult growth. But the mention of the Stabbings seemed to bring him back to it, his shoulders scrunching along with his nose. His open face fell into a scowl of memory and he gave Iskra a glum nod. "Ludo? Yeah. It's uh... look, y'didn't hear this from me, alright? I don't want It gettin' mad at me! But It's kind o' a bully. Keeps sendin' me on quests that involve stabbin' myself, or gettin' hit an' hurt, or makin' a fool o' myself for its amusement..." As the list went on, Tal's scowl turned morose. "It's just... just mean. But I'm a follower o' Mort, an' Ludo's Mort's herald so..." So he kept going back, even when he knew he'd regret it.
The blacksmith was either a more reasonable person or just a busier one. She looked the pair over as they approached and reached a convenient stopping point on her current creation, putting it in the quenching trough before coming to the counter. Tal glanced over to Iskra as the other man spoke and nodded in sympathy at hearing about the lightning and the shouting. "Yeah, It can be pretty temp'ramental. Th'shrine here an' in th'Greatwood are usually safer." You know, just a word to the wise going forward.
Conveniently, Tal was able to trade most of the rhampire pelt for a good quality hilt blank. He cut free the portion that he needed for his own task and handed his payment over, suddenly a lot lighter and looking for a place to sit down and affix the two together. He gave Goose an absent pat as he led the way towards the lucky rum fountain and gestured to it with a wry grin. "An' hey, if y'have a drink from this fountain afore y'pray, maybe you'll have a better chance o' It showin' up in a good mood!"
"A greataxe?" Tal looked impressed - and maybe just a little wistful. "Always thought those looked badass. Wished I had th'build for 'em." He was all lean whipcord and leather beneath his tanned skin, and it didn't take much to imagine that he'd been a scrawny, weedy runt of a youth, undersized until he'd finally hit his adult growth. But the mention of the Stabbings seemed to bring him back to it, his shoulders scrunching along with his nose. His open face fell into a scowl of memory and he gave Iskra a glum nod. "Ludo? Yeah. It's uh... look, y'didn't hear this from me, alright? I don't want It gettin' mad at me! But It's kind o' a bully. Keeps sendin' me on quests that involve stabbin' myself, or gettin' hit an' hurt, or makin' a fool o' myself for its amusement..." As the list went on, Tal's scowl turned morose. "It's just... just mean. But I'm a follower o' Mort, an' Ludo's Mort's herald so..." So he kept going back, even when he knew he'd regret it.
The blacksmith was either a more reasonable person or just a busier one. She looked the pair over as they approached and reached a convenient stopping point on her current creation, putting it in the quenching trough before coming to the counter. Tal glanced over to Iskra as the other man spoke and nodded in sympathy at hearing about the lightning and the shouting. "Yeah, It can be pretty temp'ramental. Th'shrine here an' in th'Greatwood are usually safer." You know, just a word to the wise going forward.
Conveniently, Tal was able to trade most of the rhampire pelt for a good quality hilt blank. He cut free the portion that he needed for his own task and handed his payment over, suddenly a lot lighter and looking for a place to sit down and affix the two together. He gave Goose an absent pat as he led the way towards the lucky rum fountain and gestured to it with a wry grin. "An' hey, if y'have a drink from this fountain afore y'pray, maybe you'll have a better chance o' It showin' up in a good mood!"
