Ohmwrecker [Nayru/Locke]

[Nayru Al-Saiduq]

[Somewhere in south-southwestern Lycia]

The sickening crack of pulverized bone echoed through the clearing, what ought to have been a clarion call of singular sound sullied by the rending of flesh as most of her victim's chest caved in as well. Not a strike he was likely to recover from - though she had little time to congratulate herself on the subject, distracted from the man's awkward stumbling backwards as his mind clung to life for a moment where his body could not, as the sound of synchronized yells alerted her to the remainder of the group not taking especially well to her work.

It was kind of funny - her grand plan this morning had extended about as far as 'take a walk.' That had gone downhill pretty badly somewhere along the way. The vagaries of an uncaring fate. It was such a ridiculous thought that Nayru couldn't help but smile a bit, less in actual amusement as simply an acknowledgement of the irony of the situation - it probably looked a bit more grim than anything. Not that she was especially worried what she looked like with two bulky dudes charging her, one with an axe, one with what looked like some sort of curved sword that looked vaguely Nabatan in design. Individually, not a threat. None of these curs were. But she was still nowhere near Aerious's seeming invulnerability, and while deflecting one weapon was easy enough, two simultaneously would be prone to... mistakes.

Mistakes like dying horribly. Which would be bad. They were closing in, but not with perfect synchronicity - the axeman was a step ahead of his compatriot - not uncommon for bandits to not work together as well as practiced soldiers - her mind worked in a sort of silent understanding with her body, a rush of power leaving a sparkling arc behind her right kama as it cleaved upwards, through flesh and bone with casual ease as if it were a hot knife through butter. An ironically accurate simile, as it happened, the stump arm quite literally melted shut from the intense heat of the crackling lightning as the arc of steel reached its zenith.

Beneath it she was already turning, rotating into the still-charging man, her feet scuffing up a puff of dirt and dust in the battered ground as her rotation completed, her elbow aimed for the man's midection. The instant her body met his, a shockwave of sound and light erupted through him, exploding out of his back, the scent of boiling flesh suddenly overpowering in the wake of a strike much less clean than the one delivered by weapon.

The bandit barely had time to gasp before collapsing lifeless, much of his stomach and lower chest simply evaporated into the air as the stench of ozone mingled with that of flesh, and then she was already out from under his form as his body simply dropped like a puppet with its strings cut. She was already out from under it, dropping her right kama as she crossed the distance between her and the swordsman in two rapid steps. He had dropped his sword - perhaps an attempt to beg for mercy - but she never gave him that chance, her right hand wrapping around his neck with enough force to almost strangle him.

...But not quite. Nayru had to force herself to stop, her reflexes screaming at her to clamp down and feel the satisfying crackle of bone and dying gasps. Her breath came a little hard, not from physical exhaustion, but from the strain of using her power in this form. The disappointment was more intense than any flush of victory; she had won, yes, but even able to use her power in relative safety, there was still something... missing, limited - alien - less an actual obstruction or coherent problem as the niggling feeling that something was wrong. But WHAT? The incident with Veigue had alerted her to its existence, but she was no closer to solving the problem than when she hadn't known about it at all. And here she was, surrounded by corpses; less a gentle savior than an monster that could do little but avenge the fallen.

The burning carriage less than a mile away still held strong in her mind, as well, and nothing she did here would revert that tragedy.

[OOC: fight is over, more pre-topic setup than starting a fighting topic]

[Locke]

The earth manakete sniffed again, his eyebrow raised.

Burning? Wood, it smelled of. Burning wood.

Shrugging his shoulders, Locke lowered his head and continued walking. But the smell intensified, as if there was some sort of serious burning going on. Not a campfire, for sure. It was enough to cause the green-haired 'man' to sigh impatiently, turn to his left, and start jogging through the woods at the speed of a galloping horse. The distance closed quickly, until the scent of burning was overpowering. Locke slowed, scanning the area, until the crackling and the flickering of flames caught his eye.

Bandits.

They had attacked a carriage, which lay toppled on its side, burning slowly to the ground. The occupants were presumably all dead - Locke didn't bother looking, but instead simply turned and walked away, subconsciously following the trail of footsteps in the grass. Soon, he looked up to see a woman, standing, with two weapons. The design of the instruments were interesting to him. They appeared to have a handle and a short, sideways blade. Almost akin to a small sickle or scythe of sorts.

Locke narrowed his eyes. The bandits were laying in two small lumps. One was missing an arm, and the other seemed to show no weapon wounds. But the fact that Locke found most interesting was that there was no pools or smears of blood. The woman had weapons, and had cut off the man's arm... but no blood. So either her weapons were magical, which was quite possible, or those bandits weren't human.

A sniff told him that they weren't undead. So the woman was a capable and skilled fighter. Someone who had managed to procure magical weapons. And she happened to be in this forest.

Something told Locke that he'd stumbled upon one of the mysterious champions of the human race that others were always looking up to. Perhaps a queen, or some wealthy lady that could afford weapons and training of her whim. But he couldn't place exactly why it seemed so unusual. Dismissing it as merely his oversensitive longing for mystery and intrigue, the manakete announced his presence.

"Salaam."

The green-haired manakete bowed briefly, in greeting, his fingers intertwined together and held at his waist.

"I see... You have handled the issue of 'justice' at hand."

The manakete put slight emphasis on the word "justice," his eyebrow raising almost imperceptibly. It should not have been a concern of his, but the woman's apparent skill intrigued him.

"Beautiful magical weapons you have there. I am just curious, as an artisan myself - who made them for you?"

[Nayru Al-Saiduq]

"Justice?"

Nayru grimaced, angry not at Locke, but at herself. It was only an instant - a spur of the moment decision in which her anger eclipsed her control as electricity danced along her arm before a massive surge of power invaded the bandit's body, instantly frying every nerve in his body, singing hair, melting flesh. He was dead before either of them could react.

...That hadn't felt nearly as good as she had... sort of hoped it would. "'Justice' won't bring those people back. Justice doesn't make anyone happy or fix anything. It's just killing more people - nothing noble about that." Nayru sighed, dropping the lifeless corpse before any weird goop got on her. She didn't usually make it a habit to get all emo about killing people, but it was frustrating as hell to have utterly failed to protect anyone here. "But with these types - there can only be blood for blood. That's all they understand. If I had spared them, they would repeat their atrocities until someone else stopped them."

In a way, though, she was honestly glad that someone else had dropped by - it was a fantastic way to distract herself from her usual tendencies. Tendencies she had hoped to leave behind entirely after the events in Sacae. He didn't LOOK like a bandit anyways, and honestly, while she didn't like admitting it or anything, all this time with Veigue and Elly and Aerious and Hayle had made it... a little more difficult to be alone. In some ways it was like a starving man given food; in her case, more like she had been starved of much real human contact for so long that she was desperate for more. But THAT wasn't something that anyone needed to know.

Those words were... vaguely familiar though. It took Nayru a moment to actually mentally translate them, she hadn't realized how rusty she was with any language besides Common. Turning to face Locke in an attempt to not be too rude, she inclined her head in acknowledgement, experimentally opening and closing her fingers a few times to try to get out the bit of static remaining. "Peace be upon you as well, traveler." Not even she could forget that one... right? Was that Nabatan or Low Draconic? Jesus she was a poor excuse for a dragon by this point. "...Well, about as peaceful as this world will ever be, though the setting may be a tad grim."

Yeah, surrounded by corpses wasn't a fantastic way to start a conversation, but it wasn't HER fault they had been stupid. Nothing like the well-trained men in that fort in Sacae, just common thugs with egos and courage alike bolstered by their power over unarmed women and children. Worthless for training her skills with a weapon, just a slaughter - which was ironically fitting, really, given their own tendencies.

Locke's question was interesting though - it was a perfectly reasonable assumption on his part, more than most people would have thought to ask, which was cool, but also bad because she hadn't really planned that far ahead. 'Magic weapons' were about as far as her pre-planned excuses went. "Found 'em on an assassin. No idea where they came from. Still trying to figure them out." The dragon shrugged, then picked up the kama lying on the ground. It was probably pretty obvious she wasn't that great with them, not many warriors dropped their weapon just to punch someone, but she was still struggling to truly integrate them into her fighting style despite having them for several weeks now.

The irony of her having expected to perfectly master an exotic weapon within a few weeks after having little to no experience with them beforehand was unfortunately lost on Nayru. Might be why her previous attempts at 'mastering' weapons in the past had ended in frustrated failure.

"So uh... you come here often?"

Smooth.

[Locke]

The woman seemed upset. It was strange, actually, as the woman dropped the body she'd been holding. A body that now smelled toasted and burnt. A body that seconds ago had not smelled of anything but fear.

How strikingly unusual. Was the woman a mage and a weapon-wielding warrior? The manakete had never heard of that. Most peculiar.

"'Justice' won't bring those people back. Justice doesn't make anyone happy or fix anything. It's just killing more people - nothing noble about that."

"True. Justice will not revive the dead. But it never has. Justice is reciprocity, an equal reaction for every action. I commend your decision and its execution... Nearly flawless."

As the woman gently inclined her head in response, Locke couldn't help but chuckle slightly at the irony in her words. Yes, this was peaceful... Even with the corpses.

The explanation of the weapons left much to be desired, but Locke felt it was not his place to pry into their past. If the woman had an assassin hunting her, then she must be someone of reasonable clout. And if she was hunting the assassin...

Locke's hypothetical musing was interrupted by the woman's question. It was bizarrely out of place, and hung awkwardly for a few seconds as the manakete's eyebrow slowly raised.

"No."

There was another brief, tangible pause, and then Locke continued.

"I... was walking the other direction, actually. But I smelled fire, and so I came to investigate. I saw the carriage, and then I assumed that they'd gotten away. I didn't expect to see anyone here to handle them, and especially not one who could handle them so cleanly and neatly. No blood anywhere."

A small, knowing smile flickered across Locke's face before he repressed it, bringing his countenance to bear. Better not to let the woman see what idea he'd formed. Perhaps she would lead him to the right conclusion as a matter of course.

Suddenly, the green-haired 'man' spoke, with barely veiled excitement.

"They look more like farm implements than weapons, to be honest. They are almost scythes, but shorter. It's a sacrifice of range that must make them hard to adapt to. You have to get close to your target to use them effectively, right?"

Realizing his sudden outburst, Locke shook his head in self-deprecation.

"Sorry."

[Nayru Al-Saiduq]

Was that really all that justice should be? One tragedy met by another? "An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, until the whole world is blind. I cannot argue that it may be right, but it is a symptom of this diseased world that meeting cruelty with cruelty is the only option." Locke wasn't wrong - it was a pragmatic, reasonable view that she could not honestly disagree with. She could only rage against cold reality like a child in a fit of pique, and that bothered Nayru more than the deaths of any of these curs. She had given up on her hopes and dreams of changing humanity for the better, realized that she was not the one who could ever lead them into that future, but it would sure be pretty damn nice if someone more qualified would step up and do it for her.

She shook her head. "Don't mind me. I get a bit philosophical when I murder people. Punch, think, kick, becry the cruelty of the world. Sometimes I wonder if it wouldn't be easier to just stop thinking. Sky above knows I don't do it when I should, so why do it when I shouldn't?" The dragon smiled wryly at Locke, moving her left hand up to caress her right shoulder. Even with her practice, her self control wasn't perfect - and the more she pushed herself by conducting such large quantities of essence through her body, the more often something went wrong. Oh, a small snag here and a bit of resistance there wouldn't kill her, but it was like muscle exhaustion that stacked on top of actual muscle exhaustion, and no sir, she didn't like it.

"Blood gets everywhere," she muttered, dropping that line of thought to act as a better host(?) to her new 'friend.' "It's a pain to clean at the best of times, and near impossible to get out of good silk without damaging the finer stuff." With her already-raised arm, she dropped it from shoulder to trace the line of the ornate sash of fabric crossing her chest diagonally. "Lost the last one during the fight I got these hunks of junk, actually, even after it stuck with me through thick and thin for-" hundreds of years, by the way I'm a dragon, why don't you just go get the army? "-A very long time. I miss it more than the rest of the outfit."

Granted, the rest of the outfit had been lost when she transformed and things went south. But she DID miss that old one, it had stuck with her for quite a few years. The new one went better with her new getup, though.

Locke's comments on her weapons took her a little off guard, but it was an astute observation, and not one she minded. Nayru had always had a certain level of perhaps-ironic fondness for human weaponry, though she had never really gotten serious about learning to use it until very recently - and perhaps even more ironically, her history as an impromptu farmer actually gave her a fair degree of experience with... sickles... huh. She had never actually made that connection before. "You're right, kama are very similar to farming sickles. Well, they ARE farming sickles, as a group, though purpose-built combat kama tend to be built a little differently. Blood channels, definitely heavy reinforcement on the handles, often higher-quality metal in the construction. It's similar to the difference between iron and silver weapons, I suppose. Same basic concept, fundamentally identical even, but very different in practice."

...Well, he'd certainly picked the right subject to get her talking openly. Nayru continued unabated, her awkwardness of a moment ago consumed screaming by her eagerness. "The range thing isn't a big concern, I'm a martial artist anyways, but working them into my existing styles is..." She deflated a little. "Well, let's just say I'm probably not the transcendent expert in the field just yet. Give if a few decades and maybe I'll be able to get through an entire fight without dropping at least one of the damn things partway through. It's just so much easier to punch stuff that half the time I forget I'm supposed to be mastering the way of the blade."

[Locke]

"Aye, I agree. If every person were to be more thoughtful... That alone would alleviate many conflicts. But it seems that most of the inhabitants of this great continent are too stubborn and short-lived to reach the plateau of wisdom. What a shame."

The green-haired manakete also shook his head, giving a weary smile as the other woman lamented her situation and explained her tendencies toward moodiness. So too with Locke. He tended to become pessimistic and angry, nihilistic even, when forced to kill humans. He disliked the senseless violence that the human species wrought upon itself, and detested the endless inter-species 'war.'

Then Nayru began to talk about her outfit, surprisingly enough. She didn't seem like the typical vain sort. But it turned out that she valued her clothing, holding it in what appeared to be high regard. Silk was an interesting choice of attire for a warrior woman, though. Did it channel magical energy or something? She'd done some pretty impressive work with the magical weapons, and that thunderbolt-choke she pulled off to finish the one bandit. It was possible.

Ah! The woman was knowledgeable about her weapons. That made Locke happy. Ignorant people, who simply swung and flexed their muscles, without having any idea of what they were doing, what they were using, the purpose, the strengths, the weaknesses... Those were the people the artisan manakete despised.

Ah, but a few decades of practice? That was quite the long time to wait... She didn't look very old, though, so she would have time to practice.

"Have you been practicing using hu...weapons long? Your magical power seems quite terrifying on its own. I'm surprised one so young has developed such a talent for magic as well as martial arts. That is a combination one doesn't often see. Add in weapon-fighting, and you're virtually unstoppable. When did you start practicing combat?

I apologize if my questions seem overly forward. You see, I too am a martial artist, trained in Nabatan Vovinam. ...Actually, now that you mention it, I too plan on mastering the way of the weapon-user, but in my case I wish to use less... Refined weapons. My body has a sort of grace and tact, and I'd like to supplement that with a giant silver bludgeon. A mace, actually... The Mace of the Guardian."

Locke rolled his eyes, realizing that he had again gone off on a tangent.

"I'm sorry. I tend to get excited when others mention crafting, sculpting, painting, smelting, chiseling, or any similar art form. That's my idea of leisure."

The manakete stepped forward, bowed, and extended his right hand in the human gesture of goodwill called the handshake. Simultaneously, he said another greeting, this one not in the language of the Nabatan nomads but in the tongue of the Earth Dragons. Humans always assumed it was some bygone Nabatan saying, passed down from his ancestors. It was one of Locke's favorite moments, watching them look puzzled and then passing the guttural and sibilant sounds as some curiosity of a savage family.

"تحيات" (Greetings.)

"My name is Xerxes Locke, but I usually go by my surname. I am a member of a wandering tribe of nomadic Nabatans."

[Nayru Al-Saiduq]

Hmm.

The strange feeling that had been hanging over their conversation since the beginning was, to use somewhat ironic wording, beginning to crystallize for her... she wasn't sure how to describe it, maybe anticipation, or hope, or expectation? Subtexts, or perhaps overtones, that she could recognize but not identify or understand.

It all made a whole lot more sense when he started talking in another language she recognized, though.

Honestly, it never ceased to amaze her how obvious it always was in retrospect. Look back, everything made PERFECT sense, and you wondered how you didn't know it instantly. Aerious, Marcus, Taiel, Lynessa, even Nax if she hadn't already been floating, were blatantly dragons when she looked back, but at the time there had been a strange sort of... impending possibility and nothing more, as if a tiny part of her unconscious mind already knew the answer, but her conscious self had been too blind to see it. That same feeling had been at the corners of her consciousness for this meeting too. Was it the same for others? Was it a truly reliable method of identification - one that she could stake her existence on assuming the truth of?

She didn't know. Nayru truly wished she did, would remember it for future field testing, but she couldn't truly know, and she had come too far to throw it all away on a gamble. The irony of her recent recklessness was entirely lost on the budding dragon, unfortunately, though it was only a matter of time before the disconnect - the hypocrisy inherent to the difference between her thoughts and her actions - caught up to her.

Nayru crossed her arms, smiling ethereally at Locke's greeting. "Low Draconic. Not many places left to learn that tongue." Neither her gesture nor her words were rebuking, rather her tone was filled with a sort of gentle amusement. "I would respond in kind, but I fear I am quite rusty in my pronunciation - it has been a long time since I had any reason to practice more than the written version."

It was a strange ritual when two dragons met, she reflected. Almost like a mating ritual for animals, or courtship for humans - double meanings, hints, implications rather than the naked truth. Woefully inefficient, and yet those much wiser than her had yet to come up with a more effective solution. Locke was testing her, reaching out in his own way, she suspected, and so too had she in her response - the implications were obvious, no real subtlety there, and yet they shied away from outright truth. The paranoia of centuries of loneliness, of existing in a world that would much rather see you dead than allowed to continue existing peacefully; they were difficult habits to drop. She could no more blame or judge Locke for his own hesitant advances than she could view her own as anything but necessary.

Though... it did seem like she was usually the last one to admit it. With Marcus especially, but so too with others. Was it simply circumstance - Nax had already revealed herself before Nayru even had the chance, as had Aerious - or was it truly her own difficulty in trusting others? She wasn't sure about that, either. "...Nayru. Nayru Al-Saiduq." It took more effort than she was entirely proud of to add the second part. Nayru was not ashamed of Erim's gifted name, but she knew full well how little she deserved to wear it. Still, if he was an Arcadian dragon, he would doubtless recognize the ancient dragon's surname, and if not, it certainly placed her as Nabatan at the very least.

[Locke]

OOC: Sorry, I couldn't find any mention of "Erim" anywhere in my brief perusal of your stuff, so I'm quite vague about it.
---

What?

How...?

There was a brief moment in which blank shock showed on Locke's face as he stared at the woman smiling back at him in perfect serenity.

"So... You too... How did I fail to see it?"

It was ridiculously clear, actually, in hindsight. The woman with the power to use 'magic' and weapons in a beautiful combination. The woman who was, at heart, a martial artist - the first form of combat any dragon forced into hiding would adapt. The cues were all there, waiting for him to pick them up, slot them together, and see. Locke shook his head, switching back into the tongue of humans as he began to speak, slowly and bemusedly.

"No wonder... Ah. No wonder. I did not see clearly... It has been strange, actually, each time I have met another one of our kind. I seem to stumble across them in the most unusual ways, and then always look back and wonder how I could not see from the very moment we first met that we were the same in that central, fundamental way."

Then came the name. A surname he recognized and respected, but one that left him slightly confused. He had heard of Erim from others back when he dwelled in Arcadia himself, but he was not under the assumption that she had borne any children. How then came this Nayru to bear her name?

"I apologize for my forwardness, but I was unaware Erim had any offspring to speak of that would be wandering the continent. In fact, I don't recall if she ever had any children. But I may be incorrect; I left Arcadia a while ago, and so my information might not be the most well-informed. Please do excuse me, I don't intend to be rude."

Locke looked in frank amazement at the dragon woman who stood before him. She had left Arcadia, if her surname was to be trusted, and had made her way here. Judging by her ability to wield human weapons and the power she displayed, Locke reckoned she was.. Strong. Quite strong. How had he stumbled across her?

[Nayru Al-Saiduq]

OOC: ...yeah ok sorry that was COMPLETELY my bad. So used to RPing with Veigue and/or assumed I had added it to profile (I didn't) that I kinda forgot not everyone knows it. Thanks for running with it, you did a great job especially given what a crappy situation I put you in.

Erim is female, one of the most ancient surviving dragons, who USED to be someone pre-Scouring but didn't participate in it, and basically became a bit of a hermit on the edge of town afterwards. I figure she's relatively well known, and respected to some degree for her power, but going missing during the Scouring and her lack of interest in dragon society beforehand means people are generally happy to leave well enough alone.

Character image here if you're curious, otherwise don't worry about it, sorry again for the fuss.

-----------

She wasn't often glad that people could be as clueless as her, but honestly, it was a welcome caress to her bruised ego that at least other people could struggle with the same stuff she did. If anything, it helped Nayru unconsciously open up a bit more than she normally would have, feeling in some ways a little bit more kinship with Locke than the flawlessly perfect dragons she tended to run into these days... which, to be fair, was still an upgrade from Aerious.

Nayru grinned guilelessly, uncrossing her arms and rubbing the back of her neck with a free hand while holding both kama in her free, left, hand. "Right? I was just thinking the same thing. Granted, there was the chick floating around with fire wings, that was kind of obvious - really gotta wonder how the millennia of secrecy thing even works - and the guy who came crashing out of the sky on leathery black wings - but in general our meetings are always strange and sorta... momentous, and in retrospect I always realize it was completely obvious, at least using the knowledge I have afterwards."

There was always a certain level of - frankness that she felt with other dragons. Even moreso than the 'new' Nayru could generally manage, even if she had little else in common with the other dragon, even if their lives had been completely different and they only met through chance - they were kin, and had shared enough trial and tribulation simply by nature of what they were that there was relief in being able to speak more openly. She liked it. She also liked it when the other dragon didn't make her feel like a dumbass.

Locke had apparently misunderstood her relationship with Erim, which wasn't HIS fault, it's not like it had been in the least relevant to anyone in three centuries, and the ancient dragon had never been especially forthcoming with others. "Oh, I'm just - adopted I guess. She found me around five hundred years ago as a kid, wandering Nabata, apparently berserk. I think she gave up on the husband thing a long time ago." She was still smiling, but it was a little more awkward, though no less genuine; truly while she wasn't super excited to infodump about her backstory, Nayru didn't like lying, and she had judged it better to clear the air of any misunderstandings than let them take root. "Don't worry about it, I left a good 300 years ago so I doubt anyone there even remembers I exist."

...Though she wouldn't mind too much if a couple specific people had. She hadn't been totally friendless, but the sad truth, Nayru suspected, was that they had moved on - and all the better for them. She would rather they be happy than fixated on her return for some godawful reason. She certainly didn't deserve it by this point anyways. "With how many dragons I've met in the last few months you'd think I'd have focused more on practicing my Low, but it's been real damn busy - assassins, monsters, adventures, blowing up forts, the works. It's kinda funny actually. I spent half a dozen human lifetimes trying to lay low, and then in the last few months my life has turned into something out of a book. Just took meeting the right humans, I guess."

[Locke]

Locke laughed as Nayru began describing the other of their kind that she had met. Flaming wings... That reminded him of Smoke, from the mountains. He too had been a fire dragon. And someone who crashed out of the sky, on leathery black wings... Leathery black? No, it could not be Aeos. But the flying description seemed similar enough, and the Earth manakete chuckled again. Some truly didn't have any sense of danger or secrecy. That was indeed accurate. But this Nayru was wise - her insights were quite accurate, and she placed them forth with tact and gravity, as if each word was chosen carefully for its purpose and position. Locke held a great deal of respect for that.

"Yes, I agree. There's always something that just... feels different. But 'feeling' is no metric that we can be sure of... No science, not even a trustworthy instinct. The earth tells me nothing about others, human or dragon."

As for it being completely obvious? Now that was a bit more difficult. Locke could not have said with certainty that Nayru was a dragon... The surname was a hint, but not definitive enough. But there was that feeling again, that indescribable feeling.

Then the other dragon, the one who held the power of lightning, spoke of Erim. Locke remembered the old dragon; she had always had a place of respect in the community, and his parents spoke of her in tones of deference. So to be taken in by Erim was indeed an honor and a privilege, meaning that Nayru was also lucky in that domain as well. Locke felt thoroughly humbled, especially with the level of transparency and ease with which she talked. She treated him as an equal, even though it was abundantly clear that her skills were far beyond his, and her knowledge also superior.

Assassins? Monsters? Blowing up forts?!

Who was this Nayru? Some sort of hero? Locke had stayed far away from most of the damned fiends - monsters weren't his thing, especially in this form, and without the mace of the Guardian. Assassins meant that Nayru had notoriety among the humans. And blowing up forts? What did she do, transform and let loose her full rage?

"Forgive my asking, but.. You mentioned monsters, which I am familiar with, if only superficially. But then you also said assassins? And the demolition of forts?

It seems to me that you've had many more adventures than I can venture to guess. If you were hunted by assassins, you must be quite known in human circles. How on earth have you stayed hidden?"

[Nayru Al-Saiduq]

"Feeling..." truthfully she wasn't entirely sure how to respond to that. Locke was right of course, factually and pragmatically, there was little room for her to argue his results. But she didn't have to like it. And with how well things had been going for her lately - she wanted to reassess that position. But not now, not yet. Not until she better understood her powers and couple guarantee she wouldn't be a danger to anyone. Then... maybe. She'd burn that bridge when she came to it.

But outwardly, Nayru just smiled at Locke, knowing this was neither the time nor the place to start a discussion on that particular subject. They didn't know nearly enough about each other just yet; they could move on to high philosophy and the inevitable ensuing disagreements later, or perhaps another time. For now, it seemed she had questions to answer and miscommunication to clear up. Ha! Assassins for her? As if that would ever happen.

...For some reason it almost sounded like the universe had started laughing at her for a minute.

"'Adventures' isn't the half of it," Nayru responded, half-laughing as she shook her head. "I've resigned myself to the fact that I literally cannot go anywhere without running into some new crisis, usually of the kind best solved by violence." Seriously - didn't matter if she ended up in some quiet Ilian town or a 'small' bandit enclave in Sacae, she was a walking bad luck charm. "Whether it be ruined forts in Sacae or the forests of Tuscana I seem to have a special talent for running into armies of Baels, and it seems that every human I run into these days is pursued by assassins, usually with the poor timing to attack when I'm around. So far none for me, but..."

The dragon trailed off, rubbing her arm a little self-consciously, before continuing. "At this point I've probably pissed off enough of them that it's just a matter of time." Wasn't that a wonderful thought! All the fruits of her labors coming back to bite her in the ass, like a swarm of angry super-bees, that were also on fire. "The fort thing was - not entirely my fault. A few friends and I went to go clear out a small bandit force - a force that turned out to be highly trained ex-military, well equipped, even had a damn ballista, holed up in an 'abandoned' fort. Things just went downhill from there. Also, I probably shouldn't go back to Sacae for a while after a display like that."

[Locke]

"Mmm."

As Nayru shared her perceived inability to travel without becoming embroiled in some sort of 'crisis,' as she put it, Locke nodded along with her. He knew that feeling - there was always someplace he could put forth his aid, and it usually ended in some quick, brutal fighting. Not exactly what he had intended going in, but as Nayru said, usually the best solution.

Armies of Baels, though. That was... Disturbing. The giant arachnids were hellish beings, ones Locke had thankfully never encountered, and never wished to. They struck him as profoundly at odds with the natural order of the world, and that bothered him. He could not figure out where they came from, what they meant for the rest of the world's denizens, or anything else about them besides their viciousness. That he knew from the many stories he'd heard, from the broken pieces of slain ones he'd seen put up in towns... They were a vile lot, Baels.

And then there were the assassins. None hunting Nayru, it turned out. But hunting those she associated with. So Nayru was involved with the ...actually, that was difficult. Were they the right humans? The wrong humans? What was the metric? Was it adventure? Safety? Locke quickly dropped the line of thought. He would end up just confusing himself with the competing standards.

And lastly, her fort experience... So she had exhibited some sort of great power, especially if she would caution herself against returning to the area. Destroying a fort and a ballista, with a group of ex-military against her? Yes, it must have been an impressive display.

"I don't exactly know the best way to respond to such tales. My own experiences pale in comparison. I have not demolished buildings, or fought hordes of monsters. The strangest thing I've been a part of is acting as some sort of protector and friend to a bizarre young human. He fought with the bow, but was young and inexperienced. He also didn't talk a lot. Strange, but I took a liking to him. Then we were shipwrecked, and I haven't seen him since."

What else had he done that was worth noting? Honestly, not a lot...

"...I seem boring, when juxtaposed with you. I guess I've had much more quiet time. I enjoy sculpting, particularly. Maybe it's my ties to the earth. I'm not sure.

Hah! Perhaps you could set me on the path to adventure. You undoubtedly have some sort of sense for the kind of cues that lead to these wild, memorable experiences. Perhaps you could help me discern them?"

[Nayru Al-Saiduq]

"Well, I didn't talk about the last few hundred years I spent learning to dance, farm, bake, and sample most of Elibe's foods," Nayru returned with an ethereal smile. She hadn't meant to come across as bragging about her adventures or making Locke feel bad about his accomplishments, just opening up about her experiences. "Or the amount of work I put into my last outfit - silk and jewelry from all corners of Elibe - before it, uh, met an unfortunate end during that excitement at the fort."

Feeling a strange sense of deja vu - had she already done this today? - she gently drew her hand across the sash on her chest. "It's not the same, but I've gotten started on version 2.0, albeit now with more of an eye for practicality. My last outfit wasn't really for fighting." She was blabbering a bit, probably, but Nayru wasn't all that concerned about it for once. She was trying to make Locke feel a little more comfortable - she wasn't sure WHY exactly but she sensed a little bit of reticence from him, even beyond the recent discussion of accomplishments.

He did seem like a good person though, so it was more worry FOR him in a well-meaning sense than in terms of being worried OF him in a danger sense. But also... lonely? Unfortunately, the new hybrid Nayru had regressed in some ways from where she had been even as she matured in others, a phenomenon she was slowly starting to realize but still clueless to the origin of, and so she couldn't exactly read Locke like a book so much as try to help him as she could.

In some ways, she could almost see her former self in him - the 'her' before she had found Elly and Veigue and Hayle and Aerious and Remus and Lynessa and all the other mortals and dragons alike who had helped shape her into what she was now. Maybe that was why she wanted to help so much? Nayru pondered the thought for a moment, not entirely sure that she liked it, but her tendency to try to figure out the root causes of everything made it difficult for her to stare the truth in the face and still reject it. Certainly Locke didn't seem to suffer from the maladies she had throughout her life, it wasn't exactly an even comparison, but she had a feeling he would be happier if he had more people he could trust - open up with - though that was, of course, much easier said than done.

"You asked about the path of adventure." Her voice was quiet, calm, a little less conversational than a moment before but no less warm. "...But you already have your answer. The young human you spent time with is but one of many. Companions were what changed my life, Locke, took me from the thing I was into who I am now. Humans and dragons both - there are a surprising number of humans who have no issues fighting alongside a friend with strange powers, and if you look hard enough, are fortunate enough, can trust them enough..." She smiled again, the warmth of fond memories as Veigue and Elly in particular came to mind, "There are even those who can accept all of you, even knowing who... or what... you truly are."

It was kinda funny, in retrospect, how things had turned out. When she first met Veigue in the burning ruins of the town that had been sacked in search of him, when Elly first crash-landed into her, she had never once even considered trusting them with the barest surface level of her secrets. And yet within weeks, Elly had discovered her inhuman age and not batted an eyelid, and within months of meeting him Veigue had been willing to forgive and forget her weakness and even that she had attempted to kill him when transformed and berserk. She didn't know how to describe her relationship with Veigue, or if she even could, but it was among the most precious things she could possibly imagine. "And there are a surprising number of dragons active in Elibe these days as well, which helps. One helped coach me through the earlier phases of my learning the basics of combat after centuries spent avoiding it, and while I'm on my own in that regard now..." the dragon closed her right hand into a fist, tensing for a moment as the silvery tattoo pulsed and electricity ran along her hand for a brief moment, "...I seem to be doing pretty well for myself with that these days."

[Locke]

Food. What was it with food? The main dragons he'd met all were so caught up in the food. Perhaps he'd have to try more - up until this point, he'd subsisted mainly on his own Nabatan foods and whatever local brew was in favor. Apple pies, Aeos had mentioned. Perhaps he would have to find some apple pies. But what did Nayru enjoy eating?

"Food. The other dragon I met recently - Aeos was his name - he mentioned food as well. Am I missing out on something critical here? Aeos mentioned apple pies, which I've never had... What is your favorite human food?"

Strange digression aside, Locke watched as the other dragon's eyes carefully seemed to examine him, as her voice trailed off for a moment, as if she were weighing something precisely, something precious and dangerous. So when she spoke, Locke understood. He heard the gravity of the words, not merely as the words, but also as the years behind them, the times of joy and sorrow alike that had brought the words out in that form, aligned as they were and dropped, like crystallizing specks of molten gold, into the ocean of attention that the Earth manakete provided.

The answer lay in the people... The humans, the dragons. But of course, but... how?

Such a simple concept, yet one so hard to accept. Nayru spoke with confidence; she had been changed by her experiences with others. She had grown, she had become more and less. That much was clear. But the trust she had was what caused Locke pause. He realized exactly why it was so difficult for him to accept her words in that moment, why it had taken such a revelation for him to realize what she was... It was trust.

Locke did not have that same faith in others Nayru held onto so dearly. She had grown from her trust in others; from giving of herself, she in turn received. But Locke was more uneasy with opening up so many channels through which danger might snake its way back to him. Had he not been taught since the beginning of his life that the humans were not to be trusted? That they were the root cause of this present injustice? Who had sent them to Arcadia? Who had butchered them?

But yet Nayru had trust in them. Yes, there were always exceptions. But it was a slightly disturbing trend to see...

Aeos was comfortable hiding among the humans - his humanoid form had become as much a part of him as his dragon form. Nayru felt comfortable trusting others, and clearly that had produced good results.

So why... why did he feel such reluctance to open? It was not fear, not fear alone. Neither was it adherence to dogma - Locke would never accept such a foolish policy. So what made him so loath to trust?

"The broken link is trust. I don't have that same trust that you have. Was that something you built? Or was it always there?"

[Nayru Al-Saiduq]

"No, nothing critical. It's simply something enjoyable to do when you travel that helps give perspective on the variety of Elibe... and there is a level of pragmatism in it as well. One can only go so many years of eating the same food the same way before some of the joy leaves the experience. Human connoisseurs spend mere decades of trying new types of foods and already grow tired of what they regard as coarser and less vivacious foods by the time they retire; they must eternally chase new and more exotic tastes to keep the experience alive. I tend more towards pragmatism - that there is little greater value in sampling every kind of food so much as regularly trying different things to keep any one from growing too old."

She had never heard of Aeos, but Nayru locked the name away for future reference. Knowing her luck(?) she was bound to run into someone named Aeos sooner or later, and he was bound to be a dragon. That seemed to be the law of the land; there were no coincidences, and there were no dragons that didn't eventually accidentally run into each other. If she believed in fate, it would be fate; as it was, Nayru was left to assume it was something in the water.

Locke's question was difficult to answer, as much as any question could possibly be - not because it was intellectually challenging, though to a degree it was, but because answering it would leave her vulnerable, naked. She was happy now, but even a year ago, much less decades or centuries... she had spent countless long years blindly wandering through life, unable to trust, trapped in a prison of her own weakness, and only recently come to truly understand the concept of putting faith in others.

And even with all that considered, she still had a long ways to go. What was trusting one or two humans - those who were already bound to her by blood? If she truly believed what she said, if she was really so f**k**g enlightened and wise and brilliant and devoted to peace, she would actually work towards human-dragon reconciliation, opening herself up to the possibility of betrayal, hatred, and being hunted down. Indeed, if she was really in any position to be lecturing anyone about trust, she would go ahead and put her own lessons to action and try to revolutionize Elibe rather than ignoring her fractured dreams of the past and future.

The female dragon didn't respond immediately to Locke's query, lost in thought for a few moments as she focused more on dragging her fingers along the rough bark of the nearby tree. It was a delaying tactic for the most part, but she was already trying to think of how to work in the obvious metaphor. Maybe too obvious, but figuring it out was helping her to crystallize her own words as much as it might eventually help Locke understand what she was saying.

"...No." Her hesitation was a little too obvious for her tastes, and Nayru paused to swallow her misgivings before continuing again, looking back to Locke. "I spent a very long time wandering, lost and alone, before chance and circumstance slowly introduced me to people I could trust. But... they weren't the first ones. Looking back, I can see other opportunities that I missed, good men and women who might well have become boon companions, that I left behind." Nayru smiled sadly, the irony of the situation only eclipsed by her knowledge that she might have been able to help prevent the tragedy of the Magnus family, and perhaps given Veigue a happier childhood.

"Though ironically, one of the descendants of one of those individuals is now my closest friend... and the first human to truly accept me despite my race, and despite the struggle I've had with controlling my power for many years." It really was funny how things worked sometimes. How was she supposed to know, a century hence, that the impressive swordsman Vandalf would eventually have a grandson that would end up meaning that much to her? "I saved his grandfather and grandmother's life a century ago. He still doesn't know, though he's a bright young man, he'll put it together eventually." She chuckled, happy to be on slightly brighter subjects, though Nayru wasn't especially looking forwards to that conversation regardless.

"But to answer your question, Locke - it's not as simple as just trusting everyone you meet. Blind trust is what gets dragons killed in a world that believes it has exterminated them. Trust takes time, and it takes hope... the hope that someday the demons of the Scouring will no longer haunt the continent, the belief that bit by bit, we can help move Elibe in that direction. You and I may not be leaders, but until such time as dragons do find a leader on par with the Divine Dragons of old, someone charismatic and forward-thinking enough to put in the tremendous amount of effort needed to even begin reconciliation, it's up to us mere 'normal' dragons to get things moving."

"Even if you don't have much interest in all of that, trust is still a hard-won trophy, forged through blood and steel; fighting at another's side can forge bonds born of blood, an extended family of sorts, and it's not hard to trust someone who's saved your life or risked theirs to help you. In an Elibe sundered by war, consumed by hate, and about to drown under a black tsunami of nightmares from the darkest corners of our pasts... all you really have to do is try. And in my experience, a surprising number of adventurers have no issues whatsoever with the concept of dragons, so long as they aren't a direct threat. The scars of the Scouring are old, no longer fresh."