RP:Carash Ojmuimnairne

Carash was gathering firewood for the future. As he was going into the hut, Bystanders could hear him humming to the tune of a unfamillier song, to the beat of the wind.

Ojmuimnairne steps along the weather-beaten path, her walking stick making a dull thud against the ground as she steps along. An unfamiliar tune catches her ear and she looks around a moment, her eyes coming to rest on the wood-hauling centaur. She stops on the path, silently smiling at the stranger as the tune continues, bobbing her head occasionally.

Carash || As he was leaving to continue gathering, he muttered, "I still can't believe I'm doing this. Even though my tribe was almost wiped out completely. I don't need torches!" then he told himself, "Just keep dreaming." He sighed.

Ojmuimnairne chuckles softly as the song comes to a halt. Being a number of steps away, she didn't catch the idle musings of the stranger as he went about his business. Deciding to make herself known, she steps a bit closer, smiling warmly up at the stranger. "That was a lovely tune you were humming. I couldn't quite hear all of it, but what I did hear was quite nice." She adjusts her spectacles slightly to get a better look at the stranger.'

Carash was looking at the ground shaking his head. When he heard the stranger, he almost dropped his logs instantly. He looked around, shocked, and decided he was just hearing things. Then he looked around again, just to make sure, and this time he saw the gnome. He smiled. "Thank you. It is a song my elder taught me when I was a kid." He looked distant. "Old memories that brings back." He bent down to pick up his logs. Carash then continued humming the tune.

Ojmuimnairne nods slowly. "The sound does have a practiced way about it." She looks to the logs that were now strewn on the ground. "Preparing to build a shelter?" She didn't want to interrupt the song again, but she thought she might find some interesting conversation here.

Carash then hummed a different tune, almost as if talking through music. "No. These are for self defense." it seemed to say. Then the music told about times of trouble and sorrow-- or at least, partly: "My tribe, attacked, wiped out, we were. Torches, are these, and revenge, I will have."

Ojmuimnairne tilts her head slightly to one side, quirking a brow at the stranger as the tune changes. "Well that certainly sounds like another song. A bit more sorrowful than the other one." She brings her walking stick closer to her center for better balance. "Almost like the subject of the song suffered some sort of hardship." She tilts her head to the other side. "Is there a story behind that tune?" Clearly, if a hidden meaning was intended in the humming, it had mostly eluded the aged woman.

Carash finished picking up the logs. He nodded as he rose. "We --My tribe-- was attacked by an army of dragons. I'll defeat the ice dragons with fire, and maybe fight fire with fire. But the dragons -will- pay for what they did to me." He shook his head, trying to clear the anger.

Ojmuimnairne widens her eyes a little. "Dragons attacked your tribe? How awful! How were you able to defend yourselves through the first attack? I've heard dragons can be quite powerful when they want to be." She was now clearly enraptured by the possible telling of the tale.

Carash shook his head. "That's how we were wiped out. We -tried- to defend. Those who survived fled. I've come here to build my defenses." He looked distant again.

Ojmuimnairne nods again. "Ah, I see. So you're all by yourself now, without any contact from the sparse survivors? Well that certainly doesn't sound like a fair deal, does it. You know, I did meet another centaur not long ago. Very large fellow. I don't know how you feel about meeting your own people from other tribes..."

Carash smiled. "How well did this centaur behave?" he asked. "And who was this other?"

Ojmuimnairne tilts her head to the side. "How well did he behave? Well, he was pleasant company. His name is Cyllarus. He's the guildmaster of the merchants guild and has a shop down the road a little ways. I've only bumped into him once, so I don't know an extraordinary amount about him, but he seems like an upstanding citizen." She chuckles softly. "Does that suite your question well enough?"

Carash looked shocked. "Cyllarus...?" he wondered aloud. "I know not about him, but strange for a centaur to be a shop owner."

Ojmuimnairne shrugs softly. "I happened to meet him at the side of a pond. He spoke about wishing to be outside more than he is. But, I suppose, if he has his own shop, he can't be terribly off." She rubs the back of her neck briefly, removing a bit of the soreness from having to look up so far. "What about your skills? I see you can gather wood well enough." She grins softly at the other.

Carash frowned almost immediately. "I'll tell you, if you promise never, ever, to tell anyone else. One sole secret has kept me alive."

Ojmuimnairne furrows her brow. "A deep, dark secret, hmm? Well, if it would cause you to lose the advantage that keeps you alive, perhaps you shouldn't share it with a perfect stranger?" She waves a hand slightly. "I don't wish to cause you undue worry."

Carash relaxed a bit. "Okay. I'm practicing magic, but I'm still a beginner. I know a lot about surviving in the wild, as beetles are unpredictable here."

Ojmuimnairne smiles warmly now. "Oh? Practicing magic? Would it be some sort of natural magic, to go along with your wilderness survival? Perhaps you could demonstrate a little. I do enjoy getting a bit of exposure to different varieties of magic, being a practiced magic user myself." You opened his palm, and held it down for her to see. "I would step to the side.”

Ojmuimnairne tilts her head to one side, looking at the palm for a moment. "Stepping to the side? That doesn't seem like too much magic, stranger..." The elder seems indeed puzzled.

Carash smiled. "This magic is attack magic, and I would highly not like for you get hurt." Without another word, He just moved his hand until it wasn't aligned with her and, chanting, fired a small bolt of fire off in the distance.

Ojmuimnairne jumps a little as the bolt of fire flies away, clapping her hands at high frequency in applause. "Well that's quite remarkable magic you have. There doesn't seem to be much beginner skill about that. I'm sure that'll be a potent aid in the future." She looks to the centaur, her smile bright and warm.

Carash then realized something, then smiled warmly. "I haven't introduced myself, have I?" He said. "My name is Carash." He held his hand out to shake. "You?"

Ojmuimnairne chuckles slightly, giving a small shrug before reaching her dwarfed - or rather, gnomed - hand towards the offered one. "And my name is Ojmuimnairne. It's a pleasure to officially meet you, Mister Carash. That's a very nice name. Unique." Her smile remains warm as ever. "Did your elders teach you how to harness that magic and use it, or did you pick it up on your own?"

Carash || "I was not expecting that question," he said. "To tell you the truth, I've been learning it from books. So, to answer your question, I picked it up on my own."

Ojmuimnairne nods slowly. "Then perhaps you may want to seek someone who's practiced in fire magic. I don't know of any offhand, so you could put up an advertisement in a local tavern or something. Learning on your own can be quite time consuming, after all." She shrugs slightly. "If nothing else, an instructor could help keep you from getting singed too much." She winks at the other.

Carash chuckled softly. "It may not be that easy. I'm currently learning a chill attack spell."

Ojmuimnairne nods once more. "Ah, I see. So you're hoping to learn more magic that can be activated in a similar manner, rather than of a certain discipline of magic. That certainly makes sense to me. I don't believe I know of any practiced ice mages either. I have been a bit out of touch with the magic world." She chuckles again. "Been practicing my own art of metal manipulation on my own."

Carash looked confused. "You magically use beetles to manipulate metal?" He shook his head. "Excuse me, but I may have misheard you. I am slightly deaf."

Ojmuimnairne tilts her head to the side. "Use beetles? Hmmm...I never considered trying to use beetles." She looks around a moment, finally finding a nearby beetle. "Hmmm...there doesn't seem to be much that I can do with the ones around here. I might be able to make a few, like my snail, but that would take work." When appropriate, the aged woman points to the softly glowing snail on the front of her turban, which, upon being noticed, begins moving around, extending its antennae outwards. Oddly, the snail leaves no trail behind itself.

Carash looks at the snail, with curiosity. Why did it not leave a trail? And why did it seem as if it was being controlled? "Are you doing that?” He asked in disbelief.

Ojmuimnairne nods, extending her arm outwards and letting the snail move down the side of her head and along her arm. "Indeed, this creature is made of solid metal. It can only move under my power; otherwise, it's just a lifeless hunk." She smiles at the other. "It's one of my more recent endeavors with my abilities."

Carash understood now. "I see. You take things that are metal, enchant it, and now it's just a metal --er-- companion." He nodded. "What else can it do?"

Ojmuimnairne furrows her brow slightly and shakes her head. "No, not quite exactly. I'm actually directly controlling the motion of this object. My skill involves the reshaping of metal." As if to demonstrate, the snail on her arm begins to flatten and stretch until the gnomish arm is covered in the silvery glowing metal, creating a stiff, thin piece of armor.

Carash || "So you enchant it, and control it directly." He carried the logs inside the hut. When he came out, he asked, "Anything to drink?"

Ojmuimnairne sighs softly, the snail returning to its form and making its way back to the front of her turban. "I unfortunately do not have any enchanting skill. The metal, in your hands, would be only that. It's actually practiced focus that allows me to even approach realism in the creature's movement." She shakes her head softly, smiling. "I'm quite alright, thank you. I had just been walking from the tavern after a meal, so I'm quite content, though I may like to sit down a moment." She moves her walking stick behind her, where it reforms into a small metal stool onto which the aged woman rests her rumpp.

Carash raised an eye-brow. "So you're metal is pre-enchanted?" he asked. "Sorry if I'm asking too many questions." He then nodded. He trotted over to a tree, and began swinging a flail over his head.

Ojmuimnairne chuckles, shaking her head once more. "Not too many questions at all. No, the glowing is simply a property of the metal. It stores a little bit of energy from the sunlight of the day and emits it in darker areas."

Carash asked, "So the sunlight it charges allows you to control it, or the metal is simply made by a master blacksmith and enchanted there?" He never took his eyes of the tree. Once he got it going full speed, He charged the tree, cutting it where he aimed it. As soon as it went through, he jumped to the side, dodging the fall, and slowed he flail. The cut was complete.

Ojmuimnairne shrugs softly. "It could have been, I suppose. Perhaps I could better demonstrate with that flail of yours." She passes a brief glance to the flail, and all chain links fuse together, turning the chain into a rigid bar.

Carash || Once the flail stopped instantaniously, he lowered it, smiling. Nice. He used the stick to cut the tree into different parts. "Sorry if this is a personal question, but do you have any other friends?"

Ojmuimnairne quirks a brow, a look of slight confusion on her face. "Well I know a fair number of people in these lands. And, being the leader of a clan, I certainly consider most of my clanmates to be my friends." She passes a glance to her watch. "In fact, I may have to be on my way to meet one of them. We're working on constructing our headquarters, so things are a little hectic."

Carash said, "Well, sorry if I'm keeping you. Before you go, however, could you change my flail back please?"

Ojmuimnairne stands from her stool and reaches for it, grabbing hold of her walking stick. As she moved, the flail seems to effortlessly return to its former form. "Oh, its no trouble. Thank you for indulging an old woman in a bit of conversation. Perhaps you can try to seek out Cyllarus? He may be able to offer better advice for you than I can." She straightens her turban briefly. "It was good to meet you Carash. I hope we run into each other again some time."

Carash looked at the gnome and nodded. "A pleasure to see you too. I'll be sure to find Cyllarus, and I hope I won't be too busy next time."

Ojmuimnairne waves farewell and continues down the path.

Carash waves back and continues cutting.