[ STONE BROADCAST ] - JUNE 16TH

[aftrnpc]

Story-walkers! [Munin’s voice booms out of everyone’s stones in unison. And booming, in this instance, meaning a grizzled but chipper shout. Her cheerful volume does not lower for even a second as she continues.]

Ha! These stones - very clever! Perhaps my people could make use of them, too.

But I am speaking to you for another reason. There are those of you who do not know of the Jormun. If if you come across my people on your beaches, do not fear us, for we are sworn allies of your kin - churned in the waves of battle!

But there is no battle for us to join forces in, not now. We are here to conserve those the Storyteller would call…kaleidoshells. [She falters on the word, her accent thickening.] Schorvalsh is a better name.

You are all welcome to assist if you have the time. The schorvalsh have been receding in numbers, and now that we have reconnected with the land, we are able to protect their hatchlings, and bring them back as we did the sun!

We also owe you greater hospitality than what we have given in times past. We shall have a proper celebration if our joint efforts triumph, shall we say…in three noon's time? We shall bring our finest entertainment for you all.

[A wet, faintly fleshy smack, as Munin pounds her chest with a webbed fist.]

And you shall tell me of your land-dwelling practices, so that we may partake of those as well! The one named Connor - will you bring your greens?

Of course you will.

[You goddamn fool.]

Comments

[tuskenlancer]

Yeah.

[ It'd be pretty stupid to say no, after all this talk of alliances and parties thrown in gratitude for their help. But she'd been planning on it, anyway.

She is a warrior, after all. ]

I'll be there.

[aftrnpc]

I expect I shall see you soon, ah...

[She...does not know your name, land-dweller.]

What title to you go by?

[tuskenlancer]

[ Title? She freezes, expression going blank as an unexpected flashback completely overrides her train of thought.

"Welcome to Starfield Penitentiary, Inmate Number 24110. Your title is Champion Whistleblower."

A moment later, it's gone, and she shakes herself, stuttering awkwardly. ]

Uh...CT...just CT's fine.

[aftrnpc]

CT.

[She has to sound it out carefully, unfamiliar syllables jammed up behind overlarge teeth. It emerges a little bit hissing, but eventually, she manages it.]

Well met, CT!

[tuskenlancer]

Yeah, you too.

[ Good job, weird...snake...creature. ]

What do I call you?

[aftrnpc]

Muninshhashvark.

[Gesundheit.]

...though I have heard some story-walkers refer to me as "Munin," if that is simpler on your land-dwelling tongues.

[tuskenlancer]

[ The mental image she gets from "land-dwelling tongues" is...an interesting one. ]

Munin.

Yeah, I think I'll...stick with that, if that's okay.

[aftrnpc]

Of course! Our tongue is difficult for story-walkers such as yourselves, I have learned. [Probably because a good portion of the Jormun language is virtually indistinguishable for hisses and guttural clicks.]