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Tsekande and his first visit to Crescent Reach

Posted: Thu Dec 18, 2008 2:42 am
by Tsekande
*** Yes, I meant to write this tail, err tale, a while back. But finally..!***

Tsekande was strolling around Crescent Reach, still trying to figure out his feelings and thoughts about the Drakkin. They were discovered while Tsekande was missing, and well, now that the klutzy beastlord was back, it was high time to check in on the newest race to Norrath. Tsekande wasn't too sure about the difficulties of dragon reproduction - some things are after all best left unasked when in the presence of such beings, after all - but mixing that magical blood with humans? Granted as far as Tsekande knew that might be a curiously wise move for humans have no problems it seems in reproducing and pretty adaptable - but they aren't as magical savvy as the elves and not the hardiest race on Norrath either. Well, Ogres are probably right up there with the Trolls in hardiest, but well, they had to make up for their lack of intelligence somehow, not to mention their lack of um, discretion on culinary interests. Well, elves tended to be somewhat purists, save for the Fier'Dal....Tsekande kept walking, lost in his rambling thoughts, with Trouble padding behind him.

Like usual, Tsekande wasn't really paying attention where he was going around the second level of Crescent Reach. The next thing he knew he was on the first floor on his back, narrowly missing the lift's roof on the way down. Looking up, he could see Trouble looking down on him and Tsekande could have sworn there was a gleam of amusement in his warder's eyes - the big tiger probably thought it was hilarious that his partner was so oblivious to his surroundings. Tsekande felt some sore ribs and bruises on the back of his head and on his rump, but nothing too serious. Tsekande didn't quite feel like getting to his feet just yet - the cold hard floor did feel pretty good on his bruises, and well, Tsekande gave up on the notion of dignity a long time ago so he pretty much didn't care who saw him.

"Well, I guess they don't have many folks who jump, err, fall down very often, do they?" murmured the Vah Shir as he watched Trouble with effortless grace drop down to the rising lift's roof and worrying the integrity of the structure a moment before jumping down landing behind someone who Tsekande couldn't see because of the Ogre standing in front of him. "Yoo 'kay?" ask the young Ogre in a puzzling tone. "Oh yes, I'm fine, fine." grumbled Tsekande as a reply as he sat up with a groan, rolling his eyes. More people started milling around the beastlord, irritating him by asking him if he needed a cleric. Granted thieves, monks, and bards avocations humans could pursue can survive a fall from great heights with little or no injury - all Vah Shir had this ability from birth naturally, but Tsekande wasn't graceful as most other members of his race are. But one very persistent Drakkin present called for a cleric, despite growling protests from Tsekande as he felt his embarrassment grow to new depths as he found out he did care if he did have a shred of dignity after all.

Moving with liquid grace a cleric Drakkin came towards Tsekande. Tsekande forgot to be irritated as he looked closer at her face taking in her blue features. Hair, tattoos, and the pattern of tiny horns on her face, jarring loose a fact in Tsekande's head that the mother of this Drakkin was one attuned to wind and water, Osh`vir. Her eyes were just as fascinating blend of dragon and human. "Vasha, beastlord. I must apologize about Dagrun, she must have the critical injury stuck in her memory from when she fell from the second level. I know you could easily heal yourself, but allow me." She cast a healing spell, while Tsekande's ears drooped to show his relaxation as his eyes still were studying her features with open curiosity. As soon as the cleric was finished, Tsekande thanked her.

As he got up he heard a very familiar yelp of surprise, a peculiar sound that could be only made from a Vah Shir for no other race, save the Kerra could make that sound like that. Tsekande’s head jerked around to see a rather comical scene of a Vah Shir with Siamese features trying to keep his distance from the warder. Tsekande figured that was the person Trouble probably jumped down behind and gave him a good scare as the young Vah Shir turned around. The young Vah Shir was backpedaling, holding his hands in front of the tiger attempting to keep his distance.

This of course, was the last thing on the tiger’s mind for Trouble wasn’t looking for trouble, for once; but to get his chin and ears scratched - naturally sought it out of someone who should’ve known what he wanted. Trouble was a bit confused but kept coming towards the young man trying to figure out why he wouldn't give Trouble some scritches. Eventually with a flick of his ears, Trouble pounced on the Siamese Vah Shir, pinning him to the ground with his forepaws on the young man’s shoulders – then started to nuzzle him.

It was a bit too much for Tsekande, so with a chuckle and a grin, he called his warder over. The Siamese Vah Shir came over cautiously as Trouble was getting his ears and chin scratched by the older Vah Shir with markings of a black jaguar. Tsekande looked up at the young man. "So...." Tsekande started, wondering how to ask the obvious without insulting him. "Not from Shar Vahl, I take it? Either that or you haven't seen a proper beastlord's companion..."

"A pro-proper bea-beastlord's c-co-companion?" stammered back the wide eyed Vah Shir. "I've seen some warders, mostly other races, but that's the first HUGE tiger I've seen! And no, I'm not from Shar Vahl, my folks settled down in Crescent Reach some time 'fore I was born."

“Your first HUGE tiger, eh?” reiterated Tsekande. “Trouble’s not the biggest warder by a long shot; I know folks older then me y’know.” Tsekande grinned. “Well, what’s your name and if I could stick my nose further into your business, path you walk in life?”

The youngster’s head tilted sideways. “Henri. Path I walk in life? Huh?”

Tsekande sighed inwardly. “Henri, what are you? Warrior, berserker, rogue…? We already established you’re not a beastlord.”

“Oh!” Lights came on in Henri’s blue eyes. “My avocation, you mean. I chose to honor my talent of hearing the spirits, like my mother could. I’m a shaman.”

“Now we’re getting somewhere”, thought Tsekande. Aloud he replied, “That’s a good reason as any – it’s a shame to waste talent one’s born with. Is there anyway I can assist you? It looks like you could benefit from my help. For when I was about your age, I did have an elder mentor me as well - not to mention a royal pain in the rump due to my clumsiness too.”

“Why would you being clumsy be a hardship?” wondered Henri. “You seem to be able to handle things just fine.”

Tsekande growled/groaned at this before shaking his head and muttering, “Ask a cleric who knows me about my clumsiness – Vitala or Silly could tell you how many times they had to stuff my spirit back into my skin after falling off the edge to my death or some other ridiculous stint that even a normal human could avoid – and they don’t have tails!”

“Oops! Sorry.” Henri said quickly, blushing. “I guess it took a lot of persistence for you to get where you are now, huh?”

Tsekande nodded. “It could be said that. Actually, coming to think about it, it’d be a feat of memory indeed if one of those High Elves could’ve kept count of how many times they had to bring me back.” Tsekande smiled at that thought as he wondered if Silly kept tabs on such numbers. “But back to the matter; let’s go see if I have anything in the bank that’d be of use for you, eh?” “Okay.” Henri nodded as they walked into the bank.

Trouble decided to stay near the lift, sprawled out on the floor, keeping his eye on the young Drakkin mage who demanded a cleric for Tsekande. The warder lazily flipped his tail about while his ears flicked back and forth as if he was trying to make up his mind about her. After meeting her eyes and holding his gaze, Trouble apparently made up his mind about her; he rolled on to his back, stretched, then got up to catch up to Tsekande. The golden Drakkin watched him go, curiosity playing on her features – what was that warder thinking?