52nd of Ymiden, Arc 717
"Wake up," the Jackal whispered. He sat in the darkness, half covered by shadow, the rest of him mounted upon a sleeping Jor Thalla with his leg hanging loosely over its resting cheek. Before him laid a sleeping Trachadon, though he knew the man was far more than that. If he recalled, his words were... I Becomer, you cunt, stating his magical capabilities openly to the voracious group of Jegers that had... subdued him.
Ganren, of course, was a pragmatic man - Royand had explained to him in detail the events of Fridgar's arrival, and with little hesitation the Jackal found himself impressed with the man's capabilities, as well as his endurance and ruthlessness. He survived, and in all likelihood, he would continue to rebel. Fridgar, he'd learned his name, was not a man of great reasoning capability. That would have to be seen to - Ganren would not allow an opportunity to slip by without an attempt at nurturing it, and he would also not allow for Fridgar to rampage within his titanic cell against men who he could not even properly communicate with.
So, he sat. The man pursed his lips and blew a black gas through them, forming shapes through the air. One of them, he caught, taking a shadowy hand in his own and pulling it to him. The creature leaned forward and whispered into his ear, telling him secrets, longings and thoughts. Before anyone could see it, the shadowy hand disappeared, dispersing into nothing.
Thorburn, Clan Nordhoff... Son of Robek. He recorded these thoughts, information given. Nordhoff -- perhaps that was why he held animosity towards the Stahlmark Jegers. That desert shithole held its own Paths, and none of them paid much due to the "Northern" Hunters.
As for the rest, he knew little of the name, the family or the man he spawned from. But -- Fridgar was a Lotharro, which meant that to some degree, he respected strength. He had to.
Ganren did not lack in that respect. If Fridgar rebelled against his presence, he would do more than force his submission.
"Wake up," he commanded again, eyes narrowing. "The time I've allotted to you for rest is over. Now, it's time to learn," the man stated. "There are constants in Uthaldria that one must understand in order to survive -- always stick to the paths, shadow groups of Hunters and other adventurers to ensure the forward paths are cleared... and always respect those same Hunters you're relying on for your continued survival. The Jegers, more than anyone, risk life and limb to protect the people. We die in extraordinary numbers, young and old alike, fighting until our last breath. You can understand that such pain heralds a desire for accommodation - a respect. Men like you, who do not belong to us, cannot know just how important respect is to our people. We demand it; it's all that many of us really have."
While his explanation may not have alleviated Fridgar's pain, he hoped to open the door to more understanding between the two of them. The Becomer was clearly confused on how things worked in this realm - that was subject to change.
"I acknowledge that our men told one of yours to 'fuck off', if I remember correctly. I have spoken to these men about mutual respect after the whole ordeal, and I've subjected them to disciplinary action for inciting a violent altercation. The only thing is - I need you to do your part as well. They learned, they apologized, they respect their superiors. And you? Will you be like them, or will you attempt to gore me on your mangled tusks? The choice is yours."
"Wake up," the Jackal whispered. He sat in the darkness, half covered by shadow, the rest of him mounted upon a sleeping Jor Thalla with his leg hanging loosely over its resting cheek. Before him laid a sleeping Trachadon, though he knew the man was far more than that. If he recalled, his words were... I Becomer, you cunt, stating his magical capabilities openly to the voracious group of Jegers that had... subdued him.
Ganren, of course, was a pragmatic man - Royand had explained to him in detail the events of Fridgar's arrival, and with little hesitation the Jackal found himself impressed with the man's capabilities, as well as his endurance and ruthlessness. He survived, and in all likelihood, he would continue to rebel. Fridgar, he'd learned his name, was not a man of great reasoning capability. That would have to be seen to - Ganren would not allow an opportunity to slip by without an attempt at nurturing it, and he would also not allow for Fridgar to rampage within his titanic cell against men who he could not even properly communicate with.
So, he sat. The man pursed his lips and blew a black gas through them, forming shapes through the air. One of them, he caught, taking a shadowy hand in his own and pulling it to him. The creature leaned forward and whispered into his ear, telling him secrets, longings and thoughts. Before anyone could see it, the shadowy hand disappeared, dispersing into nothing.
Thorburn, Clan Nordhoff... Son of Robek. He recorded these thoughts, information given. Nordhoff -- perhaps that was why he held animosity towards the Stahlmark Jegers. That desert shithole held its own Paths, and none of them paid much due to the "Northern" Hunters.
As for the rest, he knew little of the name, the family or the man he spawned from. But -- Fridgar was a Lotharro, which meant that to some degree, he respected strength. He had to.
Ganren did not lack in that respect. If Fridgar rebelled against his presence, he would do more than force his submission.
"Wake up," he commanded again, eyes narrowing. "The time I've allotted to you for rest is over. Now, it's time to learn," the man stated. "There are constants in Uthaldria that one must understand in order to survive -- always stick to the paths, shadow groups of Hunters and other adventurers to ensure the forward paths are cleared... and always respect those same Hunters you're relying on for your continued survival. The Jegers, more than anyone, risk life and limb to protect the people. We die in extraordinary numbers, young and old alike, fighting until our last breath. You can understand that such pain heralds a desire for accommodation - a respect. Men like you, who do not belong to us, cannot know just how important respect is to our people. We demand it; it's all that many of us really have."
While his explanation may not have alleviated Fridgar's pain, he hoped to open the door to more understanding between the two of them. The Becomer was clearly confused on how things worked in this realm - that was subject to change.
"I acknowledge that our men told one of yours to 'fuck off', if I remember correctly. I have spoken to these men about mutual respect after the whole ordeal, and I've subjected them to disciplinary action for inciting a violent altercation. The only thing is - I need you to do your part as well. They learned, they apologized, they respect their superiors. And you? Will you be like them, or will you attempt to gore me on your mangled tusks? The choice is yours."
