Saturn had fought draugr before, in fact the massive behemoth of a Demon had plowed through what felt like an armies worth in his efforts to halt the wolfenstein clan’s leader Lady wolfenstein in the reaches of iceberg in one of the few frosty plains they had. But now when he had received word that not only their numbers had increased but there was a King among them that was leading those Draugr? He knew Lumikki’s love for this land and when hearing that she had made high jarl… Well he knew that the relations with Iceberg had been strained with the magic council but unwilling to let his Sister’s country be afflicted by this curse he’d set up some rules for the rune knights if they wanted to participate. That they would be doing this ‘off the record’ and that they would have no support from the magic council if they were to do so.

It was well received in some parts; others were wondering why they’d even offer help. He didn’t care; his role to this world was protector regardless of the country and if his sister needed help he was damn well going to do it. The Golden furred behemoth had decided that it was best to perhaps arrive in disguise as a golden haired man with long flowing locks, a white robe sitting over a black robe. His rune knight badge was no where to be seen and his equipment lay in the void for the meantime.

He had bade that echo remain outside of the city with his white wyvern; his means of travel. The draconic powerhouse was strong enough to where they could level a small town without too much of a fuss but the mindrache weren’t well known for their power. So a Demi god of Demi-gods being present in the city without permission would be… Frightening. When arriving he had been told if he was here for the war efforts that he must go and see the blacksmiths. The ‘man’ was polite enough to share that he was here for that exact thing. So he’d make his way down through the streets; looking at the city map he was able to buy from a venerable merchant. Taking in it’s information with a keen eye. Anything that he took in would be remembered in the future without fail.

His golden eyes remained half lidded and his smile sat without a worry on his face. He knew the way now to where he must go; maybe the rune knight was given the wrong sort of map but he figured that the dwarves wanted outsiders out of their city as fast as possible and their helpfulness was extending to just hurrying them along. Some dwarves were polite and when he asked for directions they’d stare at him for a moment before speaking. The faired hair man was almost elvish in his beauty but the lack of pointy ears meant he was human. People they typically didn’t have a problem with unless they were made a problem.

Men hewed from rock and stone didn’t get along with beings that lived among the trees and could see the sun kissed sky on the regular. He understood that their dislike for one another stemmed from their differences but you’d figure that was the same for the humans. He had to wonder what they felt about demons, what they felt about his sister. Did they care? Did they know?

He hadn’t a clue but he was seen again when he got turned about, taking wrong paths often led to finding new friends or allies but here it was drawing ire of some of the dwarves who just wanted him to piss off already. THough at least one helpful shopkeep would direct him to the right street. Dwarvish was akin to icebergian but he wasn’t the best at understanding either too well.

”Maybe I should have practiced my translator spell before leaving tsk…”

The man would rest a hand on his hip, map half folded and he'd look up from it. Seeing that he had gone in the right direction and added a little 'tick' on the map with a quill. He was making good progress and probably had a few 'blocks' before he'd arrive at the forge if all things went well.

It was an unconventional migration, even in her ignorance of what the Earthland people had to offer. A collective gathering, a melding of minds that seemed to be in unison in their departure, as hard to grasp as she struggled to figure. As the days became shorter and the nights longer, the chill of the changing season was becoming all the more evident, made no more obvious than by the brittle cold that began to further linger. She didn’t much mind the change, if anything even seemed to welcome it – it was different after all, than that of the comfortable warmth that seemed to persist throughout the near century in the company of her mother’s brood. The people seemed to feel all the much more differently, however. Even a shadow amongst the crowds, the complaints were heard, often times echoed even amongst parties that had no relation to another. “Too cold, I hate the winter, should go somewhere warmer, so much for the liveliness of things,” the frustrations seemed to have no lacking in option, no shortage for which one may have critiqued the colder reality.

Which made it all the more difficult for the Nerach Vampire to wrap her head around the reasoning and rationale for those very same people to venture to a land that was all the more cold.

Even within the name, Iceberg, seemed to be as indicative of the sort of place it would be.

However, the complaints seemed to be gone. Was it simply accepted that the frigid nature of this land was tolerable yet the softer shift where one calls home to be unreasonable? It were inherently-flawed reasonings like this that as much made her struggle to fully understand society, leaving her thinking that perhaps trying to understand them was a foolhardy effort.

That trepidation did not stop her from joining in the mass migration, having seen no reason to remain within the greater continental Fiore if the reception expected were to be no different than what it was now; indifference mixed with disdain and broad contempt, now with a dash of irritation to the cold furthered with it. She weren’t entirely sure what to much expect within Iceberg as opposed to Fiore; it wasn’t likely that the more broad sentiment would change at all, though there perhaps at the minimum would be less complaints echoed towards the cold.

Iceberg lent her little favors though in all other facets of life, as foolhardy as Isobele may have wished it be the case. Where their expedition had led them, it was nothing short of a blinded fellow wandering aimlessly in an unknown land, everything making little sense to Isobele. Worst even, she had never anticipated that this place, this nation of Iceberg, would have come with it such a strange and undiscernible sense of language. She had heard the word, the title of the city that they had arrived within, by a pair of passersby that had arrived in the same batch as her, their understanding of the land being far more enlightened than what she could have hoped to have been of this place. In sad truth, to actually end up in a place like this was as much her first point of proof of any sort of society beyond that of the nation of Fiore, save for past echoing of nations that she had only heard of like that of Minstrel.

But a nation not visited was a nation that did not exist, as far as the young Nerach Vampire was concerned of.

Iceberg she could no longer say the same towards. The cold wind cut against her skin, seemingly unaffecting her whilst others seemed to halt their movements altogether or otherwise shiver beneath the layers of clothing adorned around them. Was it wrong of her to appear unaffected? Could the others draw the same sort of suspicion towards her like so many of Fiore had up to that point?

Fearing the heightened leeriness that may have lingered around her proving to be little more than a wasteful endeavor, she resigned to venture further with much of the arriving crowd. Her path would inevitably depart from the rest, their thoughts of her and hers of them being the last remnants of one another, unlikely to be revisited again in the future. Some more minutes of walking past, her ears attentive to the boisterous discussions of the more-aware talking aloud. From them she had a very loose idea of all that was going on, hardly enough to talk or understand confidently as to the current plight. Some war or another, a tale that was as old as time.

But was war really something that would inspire the people to venture further into the unyielding cold? Warmth though bloodshed?

Maybe humans were easier to understand than she gave credit for.

Consumed by her own musings, she found herself wandering, not driven by direction but simply by the nature of the act of moving. Her mind unfocused, her eyes more curious of the city around her, intrigued by the architecture of the foreign city whose name she could never hope to say with any sort of confidence. Sounds became more mingled, conversation upon conversation piling up whilst the sounds of the life around them turned into a singular cacophony. Standing out amongst them were the words of the local populace, the language so much alien that even the most simple utterance of a few words enough for Isobele to dismiss them, the hope of understanding them an impossible task.

She furthered along an unknown path, still aimlessly focused in any and all directions. There was no real interest that she held in the plight that seemingly so many people from Fiore had come because of, so instead the broader city was much more to her curiosity. A push came to her side, nearly throwing her off her footing as she turned around, only to see a pair of youths, younger compared to most of the humans she could see in any given direction, scurry off, so consumed in their game that they had likely not even seen Isobele in their path.

Ironic perhaps that in her focus on the youths whom had effectively disappeared amongst the crowd that she did not notice the larger figure before her, realizing their presence only after she had walked directly before them. It was an unmovable object meeting a light breeze, the Nerach Vampire falling to the ground as she looked up, realizing the scope of the figure that seemingly towered over her, their focus not even towards that of her but instead the massive sheet of paper that they held within both hands. “Sorry, I wasn’t-“ her apology began, but stopping midway as she realized the futility of it, the likelihood that all locals wouldn’t have any understanding of her spoken language. “Pfft, there any point in apologizing? Not as though you can even much understand me, can you?”

The voices all around him eventually panned out to the point of where he didn’t really pay them any heed. They weren’t referring to him; he understood the basics of the language around him; if they had referred to him they likely would have used their word for gold in reference to his hair. If he had arrived in his golden furred self perhaps there would have been a little bit more awe when they would be referring to him and he’d have a lot more attention on him. Something that wasn’t bad per say but in the midst of the city he wasn’t about to just walk around and have it difficult to get anything done. Being large already was going to draw some looks as well as being human to one degree or another.

His brows scrunched together thoughtfully as he added another tick on the map. He was going the right direction but… He’d blink as two kids ran past him prompting him to pause to watch them go. Dwarven kids were… definitely interesting to say the least. He was expecting less beard and maybe more curls? He’d give a small shrug as he continued on; eventually bumping into something. His size was compared to others insurmountable and people that weren’t his size or weight would get bowled over. He was worried that he wasn’t watching where he was going and just hurt someone, quickly putting away the map the man looked relieved at seeing that it was… Well what he assumed to be a human. She seemed apologetic before realizing that maybe he wouldn’t understand her. In which he very much so did, reaching out a hand to offer to help her stand back up.

”I can understand you just fine, it was my fault in that regard. I wasn’t looking where I was going. Are you hurt?”

His voice was gentle and kind as was his friendly smile. There was that simple ring to his voice that had it laced with that magical prowess that came from members of varying races or mages that simply didn’t realize just how powerful they were. Though in saturn’s case everything about him was magical down to the very silk spun looking hair. He was just a little ‘too’ perfect in regards to what a human would be like even outside of his abnormal size.

”Clearly we’re both not from around here I’d reckon. I’m saturn, what’s your name?”

Whether or not she accepted his offer to help her up he would politely keep his attention on the one he just bowled over. Stashing away his map in his pocket for the meantime. He had all the time in the world to get to the blacksmiths for the rune that he was supposed to get. Or at least he presumed they were giving people runes judging by some of the conversations he had overheard on his way here. The dwarvish language was very… blunt to a degree. Studying languages both written or not was a hobby of his at this point and he wanted to fully understand them come the eventuality of them working together.

He had to wonder if the woman that he had bowled over was like most humans; having two names. Something that he still failed to have; one was attempted to be given to him as a title he could wear but he had brushed it off. He wasn’t anything like that clan. They hid in the shadows and protected the world like that, he was well into the light at this point there was none for hiding. He had almost introduced that title but considering this venture was going to be completely off the books well…

There were some things that should have seemed fairly apparent. Acts of violence seldom were actions committed without either recourse or provocation. Strife was seldom remedied before others were left to suffer. Fundamentally there were those superior and inferior to others, regardless of how much some would like to ignore such realities. And perhaps more obvious than anything else, the thinking that within a foreign nation, the likelihood that people encountered there would speak a language native to that nation, no matter how obscure and odd it may have sounded.

Hence it was more than even a small bit surprising that the man whom she encountered, someone whom seemed out of place, enough so that they would not appear like that of one of the numerous refugees and aspiring missionaries that had descended down upon this foreign land. Their fixation upon the parchment before them, the general indifference that their stance seemed to convey, Isobele would have almost half-expected that even their most brief and impersonal of an interaction, a simple collision between distracted parties, would barely have registered any sort of a response. In her head she prepared herself for the word of indifferences, possibly some verbal lashing or otherwise native curse that would spelt upon her, all being heard as the very same gibberish and nonsense that perhaps most of what she would have expected to encounter would have sounded like.

Yet came words that did not sound strange, words that as much left her confused as to their origin or meaning. How easy it would have been to plead the ignorant response of a young woman confused as to what she were hearing, given the benefit of being able to simply disappear like that of an unremarkable soul amongst a sea marching to the same indeterminate place of refuge. Instead she were met by the very same tongue as herself, not that of a foreigner speaking a broken language or that of someone who carried with them an accent unknown, but rather one just as her own. Words that even in her most bewildered and confused state could understand clearly enough.

Words of someone just like her, a non-native to whatever this foreign place were.

Her eyes focused upon the figure, much of the figure shadowed by the natural light, leaving only a faint silhouette of whatever their natural figure may have been. It was difficult, trying to more focus upon the details of the figure or instead wrap her head around the idea that the figure was of presumably similar lands. Isobele simply remained there, looking up with surprise until finally she spoke, “You… Your tongue? It’s not like that of the people here?” It may have only been the briefest of moments that she had spent within whatever this city were, but it seemed simple enough that one may have discerned the voices of those that hailed from this land versus not.

Neither they seemed to have been, if the tone were any indication.

“You do not speak the language of these people. Your words, your tone, they are just like that of mine.” With an arm behind her to sufficiently provide support, she pushed herself upright, a relief washing over her with what seemed to have been an injury-free state of being. “How is that possible?” Standing upright now, the towering nature of the figure seemed to appear no different than when she viewed them from the ground. They towered over Isobele, her eyes looking into what seemed only like that of a veiled figure, the features to them still unclear to her. Nonetheless, she looked with pressing eyes, amethysts gazing into the unknown.

“You carry yourself not like that of the ones that enter here. They know not why they have arrived. They know nothing of this land, of its people. Certainly not its language.” An astute, if not damning description of those whom had arrived, but not an inaccurate one either. Too many of them assumed themselves to be on the path towards becoming heroes, rich, warlords, or simply thrill-seeking. They cared little for the people, the land that they treaded on now; they did not carry themselves like that of the locals, indifferent to the unknown masses. “How is it then, that one would portray themselves as both, a native and foreigner?”

Moments passed and the figure came greater into view, the appearance less that of a shade or phantom and instead that of a male. And an imposing male at that. Isobele struggled deciphering the nature of the man, a lack of clarity in her mind, it as much impossible to determine whether friend or foe by appearance alone. Too, the same could have been said of her, Isobele as much a foreign figure who entered along with the rest of the plethora of souls now wandering the same roads. But with a great exception; her possessing the cynicism that others all seemed to lack.

“Saturn?” It was an odd name, one that almost did not seem to fit the face. Though Isobele doubted that she could have much found a face to fit such a name in the first place. Perhaps one of the human meals that her mother had offered to her over the past century, maybe one of them more suited for such a name, but so much time had passed and so many souls lost to the Nerachs’ feeding that it was simply impossible to sufficiently recall. “Well met, I suppose. I am Isobele.”

One may have thought that being within a foreign land would provide a sense of safety, but the cruel reality was she had no fathomable idea of the depth and reach that the Kozilek name extended throughout the known world. The opportunity to be apart of her mother’s brood was enticing enough to have most Vampires venturing in pursuit of entry from all wakes of the walkable lands, perhaps even this foreign tundra included. Despite the massive amount of those who traversed through the gates, who may have already taken resident, it was far from unbelievable that there were not a soul that had not been affected by the Kozilek name at one point in past history.

No reason to believe that the world within such a frigid tunda would not hold the same hellish contempt that the rest of the world towards her.

No reason to give them any excuse.

“You do not hail from here. From where then, or for that matter, why would one come to seek venture to a place of this sort? Cold, unliving, to what possibly could have motivated your passage here?” To a degree, it was rich of her to ask such a question, herself hardly knowing the reason for her own venture, let alone capable of asking another.

“Seems that the majority can’t much figure why, yet you seem something different.”

Saturn tilted his head somewhat; staring down at the woman that he had bowled over. She looked unhurt which was a relief to him to say the least. He would have been very angry at himself for not paying attention and with the way she moved it was clear she was glad she wasn’t hurt either. Though the way that he spoke and the way she seemed to convey surprised made him wonder what sort of folks that she thought was around here. Asking how it was possible that his words were like hers. How his tongue was not like thatof the people here.

”Nay, I’m from fiore and study multiple languages in an effort to better understand the cultures within. The tongue out of iceberg is a little… rough. So It’s nice that I’ve run into someone with a language that I recognize too.”

Saturn rubbed his chin thoughtfully; noting that she had dismissed his help without meaning to. It was fine; if one could stand on their own that wasn’t meaning that he should take it personally. Saturn looked forward to the ones that milled about and he’d pat his hip where he had stored the map.

” I know my purpose here, know the land because I studied it to better know what I need to do.”

Saturn adjusted slightly, his equipment rested in the beyond of the void; a simplest touch would bring it out if he wished it. Her questions were right on the ball; how is it that he portrayed himself as an native and foreigner? Were people from iceberg naturally this big? No. Not really. But it was his fair complexion and the golden hair that sat well with those within iceberg. Typically he ran into many that were brown or black hair but the few golds or red well… He didn’t stick out that much other than his towering stature.

”With great difficulty trust me. Had I arrived as I usually do I would have stuck out as a sore thumb, dwarves and their ilk are slow to trust and to appear as a human… well… They are a little more helpful when it’s of their ‘younger’ brothers or sisters.”

Saturn tapped his chin thoughtfully; many people in iceberg didn’t know fiorian or other countries languages. There was that sense of isolation that had been stated for a long time; mistrust was everywhere and he couldn’t blame them. He’d smile warmly and nodded his head as she repeated his name.

”That’s right. It’s nice to meet you Isobele.”

Saturn shifted slightly as she spoke again; asking him of why he would seek to venture to such a place. His hand rubbed at his chin; she wanted to know that too. He likely stuck out in comparison to everyone else. Sighing softly the man adjusted; it would have been so easy to just… let his ‘golden furred’ appearance slip out but he didn’t want to startle anyone here. The man smile warmly; his hand coming back to rub at his neck.

”I came here with a purpose to help my sister; to help with this… war of hers. We may not be of blood, but we’re siblings all the same. I came here prepared and knowing what I must do because that’s just simply my role in things. Guardian of sorts. Or warslinger in this case I suppose.”

He’d rather not say exactly what kind of guardian he was; especially with the way that the rune knights were received. Many might not know the language too well but he knew that there were some words that didn’t have proper translations; so they’d often be used in their base growling form.

Saturn’s posture didn’t change much but it was clear that the way he held himself he was versed in different forms of combat. Though he might be considered a novice to some, or even below that whenever you would get used to a weapon over time it just naturally would keep to you. His hand rested by his hip and the other was smooth in the range of what you’d expect from casting motions. He was a mage of course… But what kind?

”There’s beauty in this place, things I’d rather see not snuffed out by the draugr that are playing a key role in this war. What of you Isobele? What brings you to this place?”

It wasn’t a pointed question; he didn’t seem to mind the idea of her rejecting answering it. His patience and gentle nature seemed to exude from both his postures and words. The man pondered something briefly and then gave a shrug; maybe if he had brought echo in here it would have been way more obvious what he had come here for. What was he seeking would also be a good idea to state, so he’d state that plainly.

”I’m seeking the blacksmiths of this place to gain a rune from them for the upcoming battles. Thus the map and ponderous nature.”

In the company of this figure, Isobele found herself amidst a conflicting nature. There were little doubts that she could have simply blended in like so many others, being as much nondescript actors that ventured into a city that they had no business being within nor pretending otherwise. None more than what attention her own appearance would have commanded, a woman of her beauty no doubt one that would draw some attention. But what was a woman who as much seemed alien to this place, the very nature of her presence within this frozen city being one that was as much volatile as to perception gifted.

No, there was some amount of anonymity that came with her being here, but new companions begged to differ. The curious figure who simply towered, it was impossible not to recognize the attention drawn, eyes more intently fixated on the towering entity only to inevitably drift downwards towards the only one other within proximity.

Eyes drawn to her as much as they were looking to avoid settling onto the other.

Though a loose sense of vulnerability lingered, the attention the furthest thing from what she would have wished for, the only choice she were left with was to endure.

“Well traveled,” Isobele remarked in earnest. This figure, this Saturn individual, if appearances were any indicator he certainly would not have left one assuming a learned fellow. It took her by some surprise, as well as the coldness towards the native tongue. The faintest curling of the lips towards a weak smile as the Nerach Vampire as she heard the figure describe the language of the people here. Rough was a kind description. Though she would have thought other words to describe the native language – and perhaps its people for that matter – she found herself intrigued by the diplomatic approach Saturn seemed to take. There was some sense of neutrality in his words, but also a sort of fervor too. Dedication perhaps?

Dedication towards what though?

Another commotion broke through, a short distance from where the pair stood; some locals getting into a sort of drama with a few of the natives. It for a moment almost looked like it could have led to something, perhaps to the spilling of blood even. But as quickly as it seemed to manifest, so too did it disperse. Great expectations and hope being rendered to little more than waste.

Eyes darted back to the massive figure as more interesting words rolled off his tongue, syllables being drowned out by the wind that ravaged through the courtyard, but a particular word of interest caught her ears, her attention shifting far more with the declaration of war. Her eyes looked up and down the figure. Yes, war perhaps was believable for someone of this size; certainly more believable than those of the many stragglers and vagabonds that ventured through, many of which she herself had ventured along with.

If nothing else, what Saturn provided was but a better glimpse into things. Plenty of unknowns still; the fog of uncertainty still grossly enveloping everything that he spoke of, lending almost a sense of betrayal to it all. The demeanors of he versus the others, the hordes who came in and in and in, they were of distant relatives. Neither stood to stand alongside each other, nor did it seem to coexist. Wherein they all saw excitement and glory to be had, Saturn was almost somber. As if it were out of duty than it were for fame or fortune.

Isobele said nothing, in part for her own respective ignorance towards everything which were taking place. Had it not been for Saturn’s giving of his own reasons, the Nerach Vampire may never have fully grasped what were going on. But even now, it seemed that only a small fraction of the story had been told to her. Hardly a rarity at this point. If there had been anything she learned, or any sort of practice that she had held on to, it was the preservation of knowledge, the willingness to keep things quiet.

Everyone had secrets. Herself included.

That did not mean that the world needed to much know them.

And in that, nor could she have expected that the full truth be given to her. No reason to think so. Ignorance had attracted so many masses to what may as well be their frozen tomb. What benefit came of revealing truths now?

The Nerach Vampire found herself lost in thoughts until the words that carried heavily with the wind brushed against her ears, reality returning to her. Turning, she looked up, seeing what could have only been a friendly grin upon his face. Such kindness, whether truthful or not, was difficult for her to believe. This man may have been a true friend or had the potential to be so, but it could have been as believable that they one that sought to hunt down what remained of the Nerach Vampires, her mother’s brood no exception.

“I can’t say that I quite know myself,” she said, almost dismissively. There was truth to it. This wasn’t an intended destination for her, rather instead simply a route to take to find herself out of Fiore. There was little safety afforded to her thus far, nor would it seem that that stood to change much. “You could say simply trying to find myself. Doesn’t seem much of the world has a place for me…” Perhaps too revealing, there were truth in her words, as painful as it was.

But she had not set out to seek sympathy in this frozen land. It was as much about the journey as anything else for Isobele, so long as she found the means to survive further.

Her eyes drifting again towards the crowds, it truly did marvel her. There were no shortage of those who had ventured in through the gates of the city, much of them seeming to be of the same level of confidence and excitement that simply seemed to exist throughout all of them. Where they truly all so excited for what was to come, if what Saturn described were to be believed?

“A blacksmith?” Saturn’s query left Isobele confused, not only for the randomness of it, but the substance further within. A blacksmith? It wasn’t a term that she was much familiar with, perhaps having heard it once upon a time from a thrall whom had begged for their life. She loosely recalled them being skilled in craftsmanship or something of the like, as if such a quality would be of much interest to a Nerach Vampire brood.

But perhaps there were greater capabilities and potentials that existed for those who were of different races. Maybe the Humans and whatever other races frolicked within these cities sought greater value in those of that trade, but Isobele couldn’t help but simply think of the term as that of a confused one. It may as well had been a foreign term to describe some strange trade. No shortage of those within this world.

“You speak of runes yet tie them alongside a tradeskillman? Is such a thing truly possible, the merging of such potencies? I find that hard to believe…”

Saturn’s mere presence in the area exuded a calming effect, unlike most demons that seemed to radiate… problems or chaos. He was among the sort that simply wanted peace for every person he interacted with, wanted a happiness for each individual that he could interact with. This conflicted with his ‘nature’ of course but it wasn’t something that he seemed to mind so much. Saturn rubbed at his chin; eyes scanning the crowd as they hustled along. They were avoiding looking at him; he spoke of problems. His height was something that made many uncomfortable; more so that he appeared as human but… clearly wasn’t.

He didn’t seem to care too much and at the mention of him being well traveled all he could do was chuckle lightly. Him? He used to be a shut in in fiore; to grow and have that as a cradle in his life. Saturn rubbed at his neck; glancing to the side somewhat awkwardly. He wouldn’t go that far but… maybe well read? Not to mention the ‘translation’ spell he had come up when he was still practically a child.

”Somewhat, Well read and… Well I have a good set of magic on my shoulders to speak.”

His use of the word ‘magic’ almost felt like he wanted to say something else. Calling magic music was one of his many interesting quirks. The roughness of icebergian was something that he was still getting used to. His pleasant adjustment to the language would take some time; once he had learned to speak it properly perhaps it would be less rough.

Saturn’s head turn to the commotion that broke through; golden honeyed eyes stared deep at those that would have come to blows. He was a keeper of the peace, his hand had strayed to his belt nearly grasping at something that wasn’t there. A sword perhaps? Some other kind of object? It was hard to tell; he’d absentmindedly look down and then shake his head.

”Many people are trying to find themselves, a war is a good way to understand the type of person you are. Everyone has a place in this world Isobelle; even if it isn’t obvious at first. Mine certainly wasn’t.”

Saturn let out a soft laugh at the thought; this would be his second war that he had participated in but he didn’t seem nervous. There was a confidence to his stature in regards to the war; in regards to what was going on in general. His smile spread over his face, widening a little bit and then eventually he’d nod his head when she asked about the blacksmith.

”The translation is rough, I think ‘runesmith’ is the same as ‘blacksmith’ but the inflections are different. Around the ‘center’ of the word. Nearly identical I’d say.”

Saturn nodded his head a few times at her further questioning; the crowds bustled and they didn’t seem interested in him anymore. Maybe his ‘awe’ had worn off or they had better things to do. He’d ponder for a moment before moving ever so slightly to one side, letting a few people pass that weren’t paying attention.

”I would tie them together, it feels the same. I’ve seen runework on pieces of weapons or armor. Much like my sword it’s energies are from such a craft. Though I wouldn’t draw it here, maybe I’ll show you later. Folks get nervous when they see how large the equipment I tote around is.”

Saturn let out a chuckle and turned, he could from where he stood see the way he needed to go and then the next. It came from his picture perfect memory and now that he had taken the map in properly well… he needn’t look at it so often if at all.

”Would you like to come with me? To the smiths’ I mean. Wouldn’t ask you to join me in the war. Not too many people are willing to cast their lot in against the Draugr.”

Saturn sighed a little bit; he almost looked sad at the thought of teh draugr. He didn’t hate them, didn’t hate undead. He just wished people asked first to make them rather than just yank individuals out of the ground or curse someone to be one.

”Not that I blame them, they can be fierce foes. Pity they weren’t given the proper rites I’d be cranky too if my burial had been cursed or something like that… Or brought back without permission by some necromancer that thought they could do as they pleased. Way too many of that as of late.”

Saturn didn’t even frown when he mentioned that; his brows scrunched and his smile didn’t fade. It was like the being only knew how to express his happiness. It was a maddening sort of display as he took that first step…