Old School Fantasy RP IC 1

[Ironblood]

Aerith’s eyes followed the construct as it stood, casting a shadow across her face. This close the half-demon could smell the musk of age and dust on the construct, noting how the stones grinded together as it moved. She looked at another construct a dozen feet away, and by comparison the service constructs were, by and large, more fancifully constructed than the one that now stood before her. Granted, Aerith had neglected humanity for most of her life, and these simplistic differences were something she was not yet accustom to, but that didn’t stop her from silently berating the (now) obvious difference.

And what was this about “old blood?” A curious thing to say, but the constructs were curious as it stood. Perhaps age has addled this one’s functions? Constructs couldn’t detect a blood lineage, could they? She didn’t know enough about them to know that they couldn't… though it seemed unlikely. She decided against drawing attention to the comment – especially if the construct could somehow determine her heritage.

“Ah. My apologies, construct. I failed to note the difference before.”

The half-demon cocked her head slightly to the side, studying the being more sharply than before. If it did not perform the same duties as the others, why was it at the arena? Perhaps it served a different purpose - security of some sort? Did it protect a lord or sorcerer? The ancient smell clung to it thickly, the presence of ages passed, of something older than many races. Such a curiosity…

“Why are you here, old stone?”

[xGabrielx]

Orin continued to peer down to the maiden while she spoke, though she did not ask his name she did the next best thing which was to call him by the title 'Old Stone' something that commanded at least higher respect than the common husks that paraded the arena at that very moment. "You are the first to call me that, and to ask my own purpose. It is... Refreshing." Looking around at the crowd he could hear that they were starting to jeer at whatever was going on behind him, their boos and curses only a light wind compared to the constructs booming voice. "I am here in search of a way to The Makers. Or The Ancestors as you call them. They are the ones that created me, and they are the ones that will know where the Stone Father is." Suddenly at the sound things being thrown Orin's head turned 360 towards the arena, and if his face could he would have been smiling now. "I am here to discover what had become of the young races, it is good to see that they are not all lost." Though he didn't want to be rude and was still listening to the girl, Orin's whole body faced the Arena, almost as if he was waiting for something.