sell your soul for a dime [Hal & Gwee]

[Sygon]

The twisted garden of the Unseelie was a darkly lit gem of nature, tucked safely beneath the ground and grown from by magical means so that the faerie there may be fooled into thinking they dwelled above ground. Despite what one might assume, the gardens and the atmosphere within them were quite pleasant. The air smelled of ozone, slightly humid with a bit of electricity that mingled with the earthy aroma coming from the scent of the plants. The creatures there also mimicked true nature, a luna moth floated by like a feather, the languid beating of its carrying it by at a gracefully, slow pace.

Sygon looked out of place amongst the natural scene; his dark body appearing to be a shadowy mass as he sat on a stump, running a cloth along the length of his sword’s blade. He cleaned the blade with a gentleness that looked strange for an instrument of steel, the care he showed the weapon was true to his spirit. The blade’s worth was only as high as the care he put into it, and Sygon put such care into almost everything he did.

Though not quite a sidhe, Sygon’s form held a beauty to it that hinted he would one day know the power of the full-blooded fae. His parents had not been sidhe, nor had they been nimbus, but they had been shucks- black hounds that were said to bring bad luck to all who beheld them. Sygon too, had been a shuck, and as the magic of the black shucks faded he found his form had shifted greatly. How he had arrived in Alanor is foggy, but from what he remembers he knows it was the first time he walked on two legs and certainly the first time he possessed the abilities of glamour magic. But those days were long past, and Sygon was now comfortable in his nimbus form. So much so, that he declined to wear a shirt, leaving his chest bare and the ringlet piercing his nipple to glitter in the moonlight.

[fronkenstorm]

They say that life is a blessed thing and that one should treasure each and every moment. That's exactly what Gwee did, for about the first ten million minutes or so. After that, things began to head downhill. Memories became muddled images of the past, most of which simply dropped out of his head like a wet sack. After about a billion minutes, his eyes started to fail along with his youthful wit and spunk. Now nearing three billion minutes, completely blind and progressively losing his mind, the goblin finds that he can't move as fluidly as before, but this doesn't stop him from walking about the court sometimes.

Gwee found himself on one of those walks at that particular moment, attempting to clear his mind by taking in the smells and sounds around him. The flowers, the vines, the trees, the earth beneath his gnarly toes, the goblin had to admit that it was all very nice. He was even enjoying himself a small bit as he lazily wagged his tail back and forth.

Suddenly, Gwee caught a peculiar scent. It was the smell of a faerie, that was certain, yet the goblin couldn't quite pinpoint the source. Sniffling and scuffling about, he scurried around on all fours, getting faster and more frantic in his search. Not being able to see where he was going, he charged head first into the stump that Sygon was sitting on. The loud thump that sounded resonated around the area for a second or two before dissipating.

Sitting up and rubbing his sore cranium, Gwee scowled and began to speak in his high, yet metallic and grinding voice. "Alright, faerie, I yield. Tell me where you are so I don't go insane from paranoia."

[Kin/diablo]

Hal wasn't lost.

He wasn't lost, but it was dark -- and though he wasn't in entirely new surroundings, time had left him and the rest of Alanor behind, blurring his recent memories in a way that was as astounding as it was frustrating. He'd get used to it, he knew, but knowing was useless. Besides, the place wasn't that large, and wouldn't it be embarrassing if he were actually lost (which he wasn't), and he was sure that if he only just took another turn, or two, or three, in that direction--

Ahead of him, a four-legged figure vanished around the corner. Only it didn't appear to be the four-leggedness of an animal, but what else could it be? Hal hesitated -- a split second of pure what the fuck -- before taking off after it at a slightly quicker pace. Passing through several caverns that looked vaguely familiar, he rounded another corner just in time to see the figure barrel into the stump with a loud thunk.

Hal didn't miss a beat -- instead of stopping, he strolled right past the two faerie until he found a comfortable place to sit facing the others. "Goblin," he said, wondering at this small, brown creature before him -- and utterly disregarding the question the garlanger posed to the other faerie. "It's been eons since I've seen the likes of you."

[Sygon]

Sygon hadn’t noticed the little faerie before he crashed into the little stump, but even when he did so the behemoth was not alarmed. At the sound of the goblin thumping against the trunk found his ears, he simply raised his head and then, lowered his gaze to the source of the noise. He regarded the goblin with a bemused expression, but at the same time a rather placid facial expression. Then he broke his stoicism and laughed; his white teeth startling in contrast to the rest of his body.

He began to clean his blade again, looking fondly down at the weapon as he spoke. ”I’m seated upon the stump you crashed into. I’m holding a sword; you should thank the Fate that you did not run into that.” He continued to clean the blade, thinking the goblin would either bestow upon him some small talk or would wander off. Neither happened, as another faerie appeared and spoke first.

The nimbus who seemed interested in the goblin, and Sygon could hardly blame him, the little creature was quite the sight. If Sygon had to make a bet, he would have wagered that the creature before them was closest thing to a purebred goblin since the race had gone extinct. Sygon even contemplated the fact that the creature might remember the days before the reign of King Cel. Nonetheless, he responded to the words of the nimbus. ”At least one that looks like a goblin, most are watered down sidhe with goblin eyes or an extra set of arms.” He looked up, his next statement addressing them both. ”Name’s Sygon, and you both?”

[fronkenstorm]

Holding his still throbbing skull, Gwee tried getting to his feet, but the blow still left him slightly dizzy. As he stumbled about, trying to regain his balance, something felt off. The goblin felt as though he were being watched not by one entity, but two. Goosebumps ran up and down his leathery hide, his adrenaline levels beginning to rise. Turning slowly around, he sniffed at the air frantically, trying to find an answer before paranoia got the best of him.

Needless to say, when the other being finally did speak, Gwee was incredibly startled. Emitting a short cry, he once again fell to the ground. Grumbling and muttering curses under his breath towards whoever had the audacity to sneak up on him, the goblin decided to stay seated upon the ground to avoid any more unnecessary falls. "Boy, don't you even talk to me about eons. Once you experience one thousand years without seeing your hand in front of your face, then you can say something. And didn't your mother tell you not to sneak up on the elderly, not to mention the blind?!"

In the direction of the stump, Gwee heard the first faerie he came across finally speak. His voice was deep and smooth, yet powerful and commanded attention to its presence. Gwee could picture the body it belonged to as being equally powerful and quite large. At his words, the goblin couldn't help but smile. For one, he was indeed glad he did not slice his noggin open with a sword. Second, he took his appearance in high regard, so the big nimbus' remark was taken as a great compliment. Perhaps this Sygon fellow wasn't so bad.

"Thank you for noticing, Sygon. It is true, though, that my goblin brethren have become tainted over the millennia, and I may be the closest living example to the goblins of old left. Of course, even I have a few drops of fae blood in me, or I wouldn't be here, right? You can call me Gwee."

[Kin/diablo]

Raising an eyebrow, Hal glanced from the garlanger to the one who'd introduced himself as Sygon, making eye contact only briefly -- long enough to acknowledge the faerie's presence, but without any real force of recognition. Just the other day (or was that last week, or last month?), he'd met several of the Unseelie fae; this one, however, didn't seem familiar. Sygon mightn't be as distinguishable as the goblin, but Hal never forgot a face.

Returning his attention to Gwee, he said, solemn as a human at his mother's funeral: "My most sincere apologies, Wise One. I sometimes forget myself." Particularly since arriving at Alanor, he thought wryly, and sometimes almost literally. Goblins. Fickle creatures, but not ones to be trifled with. He thought perhaps he'd met one or two, too long ago to remember with much clarity. If what this one said was true, then he wouldn't expect to meet any more.

"'Hal' will do," he said, this time addressing both of the faerie before him.

[Sygon]

Sygon chuckled at the elderly garlanger, though the words were hardly comical, Sygon wouldn’t have liked to spend one day without sight let alone one thousand years. Sygon mulled over how old the creature must be, he spoke of a thousand years with such nonchalance that it led the nimbus to believe he had witnessed many more. Furthermore, the rather thick concentration of goblin blood that flowed through the creature’s veins left little room for muddling, save for perhaps one sidhe grandparent far removed from his lifetime. ”Well it is a pleasure to meet you, Gwee. It seems it was good fortune you did not run upon my blade.”

He was just about done-cleaning his sword that was. So sheathing it, he readjusted his position on the stump, finding a more comfortable posture than one that was meant to do work. Sygon’s gaze then drifted to Hal, who he simply regarded with a nod as opposed to words. They were not sidhe, there was no use for formal titles.

Sygon allowed a silence to fall over the group before he spoke again, his words addressing them both. ”Have either of you met the King yet?” It was a trivial question, more small talk than anything, but it could provide valuable insight should either of them had previous encounters with the infamous Unseelie prince.

[fronkenstorm]

It seems that today was a good day after all for the small goblin, give or take a sensitive bump that was forming on his head. He had met two good-spirited, well-tempered nimbus's, neither of which had attempted any racist remarks. It may have been too early to tell, but it seemed like the beginnings of two beautiful acquaintanceships for Gwee.

"Do not fret, Hal, there was no way you could have known my condition. Let us put it behind us."

Gwee's attention was turned back towards Sygon at that moment, for the nimbus had begun to laugh. The goblin assumed he was laughing at his snapping at Hal. This caused Gwee to grin widely, revealing all of his small, sharp teeth. But at his question, the goblin had to stop and ponder. It was highly possible that he had crossed paths with the King without even knowing. He had heard mixed reviews from various conversations between sidhe that he had dropped in upon, but he could not say that he had a personal opinion.

"The new King? I suppose not. I've heard plenty about him. I used to be quite acquainted with the old King, but I guess that was a long time ago. Perhaps I should meet him, he may find my ancient memory useful yet. Though I may need some help finding my way, that bump has disoriented me more than usual. Ha! Get it? That's a blind joke, son. Get used to 'em."

[Kin/diablo]

There was a momentary lull in the conversation, but Hal made no move to end it, instead letting Sygon choose when to speak. The silence was a comfortable one, and not entirely unexpected. He'd always preferred the kind that crept up on you and caught you unawares, and though this wasn't one of those times, it wasn't unpleasant.

Hal mulled over Sygon's question. At Gwee's joke, however, he made a quiet noise that sounded like a cross between a laugh and a cough. "And yet your capabilities far outweigh your disadvantages," he said to Gwee. "As for me," he added, "I may have met him once in passing--" Last week, or was that last month? "--though I doubt I'd be remembered." Either way, it usually took more than a glimpse for anyone to see through Hal's unassuming exterior, so he had few expectations.

He stood up, stretched without much real semblance of stretching. Then, on a whim, he said, "Sygon -- would you allow me to see your blade?"

[Sygon]

Sygon was amused by the small garlanger, for the creature being hideous by faerie standards and blind, he had a lease on life that inspired the nimbus. Perhaps creatures that old either lived happily no matter what hand they were dealt or fell into misery, only to fade away. Sygon hoped that was the case; a middle ground that would allow for an immortal fae to become miserable with existence but parish seemed more terrifying than any mortal hell or physical punishment he could think of.

”What have you heard, Gwee?” He asked, knowing garlangers had an ear for gossip, as most sidhe preferred to ignore their presence even when they spoke freely of courtly matters.

But before the goblin could answer him, Hal had asked to see the behemoth’s weapon. Sygon was not the possessive type, but he wasn’t the type to go unarmed either. So lucky for Hal, Sygon had two more blades on him, a spine sword that lay in the grass behind the stump and a dagger sheathed on his hip.

Sygon removed his scabbard and turned the blade, grasping the sheath as he extended the hilt of the blade towards Hal. ”You may. Just keep in mind I have others.” He said in a joking voice, but one that offered a hint that he would not succumb to an attack if that is what Hal wished to do.

[Kin/diablo]

[ooc: Since it's the third day since the last post, I'm going to go ahead and start finishing up this thread a few hours early. I'm assuming that this entire thing took place before judgment, since that's what I think we originally intended.]

Hal gave Sygon a shadow of a smile, visibly unperturbed. "Fair enough," he replied, his tone equally light. "Rest assured -- I prefer using my own." Stepping forward, he pulled the blade from its sheath with easy familiarity -- hefted it and checked its balance, as much as could without an actual target. Just out of the center of his vision, he could see several faerie drifting past, and the sound of a gathering in a nearby cavern.

"What do you think, Gwee?" Hal said conversationally. "Looks like the party's about to start." Resting the flat of the blade on top of the fingers of his free hand, he brought it horizontally up to eye level, noting the fit of the blade against the hilt, as well as the edge and the shine of the metal, and the wear of the hilt. Seen battle, he thought -- not new by any means, but in good condition. It seemed like they were going to miss out on something important, though, if they didn't move.

Shifting his grip, Hal offered the sword back to Sygon, hilt first. "Well kept, warrior," he said, "but we'd better go."