Cambist of Corat: Chapter the First: Paradigm Shift

**Necrite** · 08-26-2008, 01:18 AM

I lower my bow, and release the tension on the string, but keep the arrow notched, while pondering just how to respond to these creatures.

**OOC: How large are these creatures? Human? Halfling? Normal housecat? Also, are they "normal" or humanoid (the description suggests the latter)? Finally, what language are they speaking?**

**nijineko** · 08-26-2008, 01:23 AM

{they are about 4-5 feet tall when they stand up, however, they seem to slouch a lot. they are felinoid, that is, anthropomorphic felines. You are not sure what language they are speaking... you thought common, but now that you pay attention, what you are understanding does not quite match the mouth movements they are making. }

**Necrite** · 08-26-2008, 01:27 AM

** If you're implying what I think you are, shouldn't I be "hearing" goblin, not common?**

**nijineko** · 08-26-2008, 01:30 AM

{nope, oddly enough, common. it is the sort of thing that would strike an intellectual as rather strange.}

**Necrite** · 08-26-2008, 01:45 AM

**Well, if I were an intellectual, I probably wouldn't be in the army. But with a 17 Int, I'm not dumb either. I'll file that away for now.**

With the thick accent of someone who knows the language, but rarely speaks it, I ask "Hoor choo?"

**nijineko** · 08-27-2008, 04:50 PM

They all jump pretty much simultaneously, and stare at you. This is rather disconcerting as they have rather large eyes, narrowly slitted against the sun, though this was not fully apparent at first. Then they all turn and look at one of their band, neither the one who lost, nor the one who won the bet. He flattens his ears and grimaces. "Look, this is not my fault! Just because my idiot brother... it's not my fault!" He trys to pose offended dignity.

His comrades burst out into laughter, and the nearer ones slap him on the shoulders in rough humor, knocking him about a bit. Finally, they push the protesting one forward towards you. It seems he has been designated spokesperson. With a final glare over his shoulder at his still-chuckling comrades, he turns to face you. He looks you up and down and his ears return to half-mast. He holds his hands out from his sides a bit, palms up, showing thickly calloused fingers and palms; a gesture of peace?

His voice is a throaty growly voice, warm and liquid with vowels. "So, you speak the tounge of the Star-Water-People?"

**Necrite** · 08-28-2008, 03:30 AM

I put the arrow back in my quiver, and slide the bow back into its sheath, but leave my sword as it is - untied and tilted forward for easy drawing.

I not know dees ... Sta-Watcha people ... choo call 'em. I speak bit a choomin. Choo not ancher me: Hoor choo?

**nijineko** · 08-30-2008, 06:42 PM

He arcs an eyetuft and studies you for a moment. "For one who does not know of the Star Water People, you certainly speak the language perfectly. Much better than my brother, and he has been there for seasons now." He wrinkles his nose and then distractedly runs one hand through the thicker mane of his headfur. You catch glimpses of claws which were decidedly not visible before.

"Well met, stranger. In courtesy, I can at least answer your question. Know that we are Ka'atym of the Moonraker Clan. We give you greeting." He folds one hand into a tight paw and places it against his other-the left-which is held loosly cupped around it. He inclines his head slightly and bows a bit from the waist, but his eyes do not leave you. The long claw shapes at his waist jingle metallicaly as they shift with his movement.

"I am called Keenly-Scents, what are you ca..." he starts, only to be interrupted by a call from behind. "You mean Keenly-Scents-the-Flowers!" Which pronouncement is followed by gales of laughter. He twitches... ears flattening, and he whirls around shouting, "I don't have to use the full formal except for ceremony, which you full well know, you earthworms!" You note that his tail is fluffed up to about three times its previous size. Upon seeing the expression on his face, some of his comrades fall over with laughter, one of them even weakly pounding on the earth gasping for breath.

He turns back around, ignoring his fellows. Making a visable effort to relax, he says, "As I was saying, before I was so rudely interrupted... what are you called?"

**Necrite** · 09-02-2008, 07:03 AM

Placing one hand on my sword, ostensibly to hold it steady, but in reality pushing it forward so it can be easily drawn, I bow slightly, keeping an eye on the creature's hands. Apparently these creatures are always armed, no matter how slightly.

In a practised voice, virtually free of accent, I introduce myself. I am Lokar Corat, of clan Lokar. Once past the formal introduction, I lapse back into my accent. Choomins call my home Gobtown. Choo know tha way there? I been *a brief pause for thought* Chifted here by chum kinda machik, and don't know where I am.

**nijineko** · 09-05-2008, 06:35 PM

"Greetings to you, Lokar Corat, of Clan Lokar." He let's out a drawn out breath, kind of a hissing sound, where it would have been a hum, had you done it. "I'm afraid that I've never heard of such a town." It seems that he completely missed the change in your inflections. He pauses... clicking his tongue absently. In the background, his friends recover themselves. "Let me ask the others." He gestures for you to accompany him, standing next to you. His friends gather in a loose circle, including you as one of the circle. Everyone has plenty of space to gesture and converse, which they promptly proceed to do. You can follow the majority of it, but there is the occasional word that is missing from what you hear. Or rather, you hear what they are actually saying, but there is no accompanying meaning for you.

They are speaking of the various places they have been too, each accompanied by a short story of some act of prowess performed or witnessed by the speaking individual. It seems that the question of where you are from, and whether anyone has heard of it or not, doubles as a prime opportunity to swap brags and boasts. They seem to be reaching a consensus that none of them have ever heard of your town, when there is an hair-raising yowling uluation. The loose circle transforms instantly into a tighter spearhead formation with you towards the back between Keenly-Smells and another, and the rest of the Ka'atym between you and the direction from which the sound came. You note that they are all now wearing the long metal claws on one hand.

**Necrite** · 09-05-2008, 08:56 PM

I once again draw and notch my bow and arrow, and take a ready stance facing the direction of the noise, checking to see if I can find what caused it.

* Search check *

**nijineko** · 09-05-2008, 09:48 PM

You spot some movement in the grasses, but are not able to see whom is making the noise, exactly. Soon another group of Ka'atym pop up into sight, only these are wearing a different device. You quickly recall the other standard in the near distance. You note that your group does not raise their claw-weapons, but neither do they relax in any way.

Keenly-Scents mutters from the side of his mouth, "Streamslasher Clan... arrogant bullies. watch your step, and follow our lead!"

**nijineko** · 09-13-2008, 08:55 PM

The second group forms a loose line, part-way down the hill. Keenly-Scents' group moves to form a matching line, keeping you to the rear, and with Keenly-Scents standing just slightly before you, and to one side. You notice that he has moved so that he is standing on your foreward-hand-side, giving you a clear shot with your bow. The standard of your group is now behind where everyone is standing with relation to this new group.

One of the opposite group, a hulking brute, steps forward and begins belting out something which remains only sounds for you. It sounds formal and ritualized, punctuated with slow deliberate gestures. After a few moments of this, he pauses, and when he resumes speaking, the brute's speech is understandable... again, in Common. He makes a long winded speech about some neutral area, but then gestures towards you as he says that you were on their side of the neutral area, and as such you must be surrendered to them!

**Necrite** · 09-14-2008, 04:03 PM

In goblin, and under my breath: Curse these brutes for not speaking an intelligible language.

Louder, and towards the new group: I mean no violachun of chour land. I am not here by my will. But if I was in noochral land, why does it matter what side I was on?

**nijineko** · 09-14-2008, 04:37 PM

The leader, or at least the one standing center point of the your line, glances over his shoulder at you briefly, one eye tuft raised. He turns back and shouts, "The outlander speaks well! The neutral ground is just that... neutral. It is neither of our territories, and as such your claim is not valid!" He emphasizes his remark with a slashing gesture with his free hand held rigidly open.

The brute snorts and laughs, an unpleasant sound. "I think not. The neutral ground is both our territories, as we can both go there. As such, it was on our territory, and furthermore, it was on our side of the centerline, so you will give it to us." He cracks his knuckles, loudly enough to be heard even from this distance.