• Graded • [Town Square] Saun's Ascension Festival 717

[Varthakh]

1st Saun 717

Proceeding the events prior with Ren Norendel, Alistair compression portal'd them directly into the city. Fridgar and Kleine, they were both attending the ascension festival totrial. Fridgar because he wanted his efforts to be recognised in the form of the creator's blessing and Kleine because Fridgar had asked and he'd never been to one before. In a way, the twink Lothar served as Fridgar's guide in this event and Fridgar was glad for it; he knew nothing of Lotharen culture!

"Thanks for coming totrial, Kleine. I hope you weren't too busy or anything," Fridgar spoke his thanks in Haltunga as they approached the sound of a muffled crowd. Kleine would smile at the taller Lothar before nodding, "It's fine, really! I find that I've always got free time on my hands since being freed. Plus, I want to be there if you get chosen. It's fine if you don't though, at least you'll know what to expect next time," the smaller man continued his warm smile, just as passionate about the whole event as he had been breaks ago.

Fridgar smiled, nodding as the pair walked. Surprisingly, the temperature was pleasant. Despite being Saun, the air was significantly cooler than anticipated. Noticing Fridgar's confusion, Kaiserion spoke "Uthaldria acts as The Creator's sanctuary whenever he's within the walls, the sanctuary stays temperate and free of extremities." Fridgar nodded in understanding, even if it was a little confusing. he didn't understand the power of immortals, so decided to leave it be.

"How's the dance of the graces going, by the way?" Kleine asked with a raised eyebrow, as chatty as ever. Fridgar inhaled before releasing the breath with uncertainty. "Fine, I guess. I feel a little weaker and my bones ache, I have a mild headache too but its no worse than a quarter strength of a damn cold? I thought it would be worse than this..." Fridgar spoke his concerns. Kleine looked surprised, eyes wide as he tried to steal a glance from the taller Lothar. "That's surprising, I've only known one other Jeger to go through the dance and he spent the first ten trials bed ridden. The rest of it, he was writhing in agony until the last trial before he fought the Sohr Khal... Your body must be something else, Fridgar," the smaller Lothar fawned over him.

"Maybe they didn't use enough or something?" Fridgar asked, ignoring Kleine's praise. "I don't think the Jeger can mess up that bad," Kleine shrugged, not bothered by his missed compliment. True enough, the Jeger were hardcore about everything. There's no way they'd let Fridgar and Alistair off on a light dosage. Maybe he and Alistair were just the hardiest of them all?

Soon enough, they arrived in the town square. Fridgar was in his Stekir-Skin Loin cloth while wearing nothing else but his hound cloak and badge. His rewards for achieving the rank of hound in the Jegers. he thought it best to dress as formally as he could in case he was chosen, so wore his best clothes, save for the Feron skull and animal pelts. It looked as though the whole of Uthaldria was gathered in the town square, all roaring and cheering toward the centre. being significantly taller than most Lothar, Fridgar could see with relative ease over the crowd, Kleine struggled though.

As he cast his mismatched eyes to the centre, he first caught sight of the other Lotharen the same height as him. Among them was a certain Spurrsyte lover he recognised, his fellow Jeger. In the middle of the whole crowd of cheering Lothar though, was... A platform with some guy stood on it. Fridgar tilted his head, unsure. "Hey, Kleine! Is that him?!" Fridgar asked, needing to shout over the booming voices of all the testosterone ridden bodies. "I don't know, I can't see a thing!" Kleine replied, trying to stand on his toes to get a better view.

Instead, Fridgar rolled his eyes and collected the smaller Lothar. He lifted him up, appearing weightless in his grasp. Kleine gasped, socked before growing comfortable with being man handled. "Yeah! That's him!" Kaiserion shouted downward while waving his arms and cheering to Thetros. Rolling his eyes, Fridgar decided to keep holding Kleine for a bit as he praised The Creator. Lotharen of all kinds from all clans were gathered, born and reborn alike; all for the chance of getting closer to The Creator or to be called up on the stage.

Then it dawned on him; Robek. Was Robek around? Uncertain, he looked about the crowd, scanning everyone's faces but avoiding eye contact. For a trill, he could have sworn he saw some blue skin, but passed it off as clothing. No matter where he looked though, he couldn't see his father. That was probably for the best. He then lowered Kleine with a yawn before rubbing the back of his head. "I think he looked at me!" Kleine swooned, earning a chuckle from the taller Lothar. "Maybe he did!" Fridgar shouted back before looking to Thetros. If anything, some answers would be nice.

[Silv]

"One page after another . . ."

Silv stood on the outskirts of the crowd, struggling to see beyond the mass crowding around the stage but unwilling to jostle her way forward to a better vantage point. Truth be told, this was a festival meant for someone like her, and she had already felt a few unwelcoming gazes from the Lotharro nearest her. Perhaps she felt judgement from the cobalt shadow loitering within the shade of the cloth overhang. Silv had to remind herself that many of these men did not often see an Eidisi, and most probably maintained opinions drawn from the common stereotypes of her race. Arrogant. Overbearing. In possession of a superiority complex. She didn’t deny that these were accurate of her people, to a degree, but it certainly made it difficult to operate in this city at times.

And, truth be told, Silv had a few of her own about the wild race standing before her, though this festival was beginning to shatter a few of them. Life, for a Lotharro, was one of masculine expression and constant challenge of the hierarchy within their society. Birth and death and birth again in this wild land, wearing the skins and pelts of the very monsters they killed, almost as if to remind the visitors that they themselves were creatures to be feared. She had known a few Lotharro—her mother’s old lover, for instance—who allowed on occasion Silv to see beyond this outer layer, but she had not been privy to such displays of emotions since coming to this new land.

Yet here she stood, watching the men jostle for a better view of the figure standing on the far stage, like children. Granted, that was an appropriate response, she thought, given who they had all come to see. Or, rather, to be seen by. Theotros was their patron; it made sense for them to posture like dutiful the dutiful off-spring they were. It was, from what Silv understood, the point of this festival: to earn Ascension, and with it, the right to call the Immortal father beyond just this current life. Still, it was jarring, nevertheless, to see the Lotharro like they were. One of them, a massive specimen in a fur loincloth, was even holding up one of his brethren overhead like a child!

Silv felt something stirring within herself, a curiosity that wouldn’t be sated from her current spot in the crowd. If that figure standing on the stage was indeed the Immortal, Silv wanted to be closer to see the festival unfold. This was history unfolding beneath her, and she wanted to witness as best as possible. She pushed herself upright and scanned the crowd.

There was empty space in the crowd around the aforementioned giant, so Silv weaved through the crowd to draw up beside the man. “I wouldn’t mind a higher perch myself,” she said in Haltunga, a hint of a grin as she looked up at the Lotharro. His eyes were mismatched, she noted, and she was uncertain what to make of that. “What am I to expect from today?”

[Kayleigh]

Something big had to be going down today, Kayleigh just wasn't sure what exactly. She couldn't understand the language many of the Lotharro spoke here, a problem she failed to count on her behalf before she ever travelled here. Uthaldria was different though, the place slowly grew on her. Probably because it proved to be a place of inspiration lately, what with the cruelty one would find within the horrors of Gauthrel. Many who were hunters or fighters risked their lives out there, and since Kayleigh had a taste of what dangers awaited them; she could respect their capacity to go out and bravely survive those dangers.

That said however Saun had begun and thanks to it the Trails were hotter; thus when she entered the district of the festival, imagine her surprise when she'd been towered by the masses of giants gathered here. Firstly she didn't want to wander into such a crowd, as she'd more or less wandered here alone and... well besides being a shrimp they'd trample, an entire mob of smelly sweaty men just wasn't very attractive to Kayleigh. At first she'd remained further back in the lesser reaches of the crowd, until a few of the Lotharro mentioned something in their tongue that rang familiar. Did they just say Thetros? She pondered even though she likely misheard a pronunciation from their conversation.

She had to wonder though... was they all gathered here for Thetros? She couldn't see beyond the sea of giants before her, but if that was why they were gathered here then certainly... Certainly she had to at least have a chance to see him, for all she knew this could've easily been a once in a lifetime opportunity for her! If I do get to see him... then I'll get to tell father and Higan about it later. Somehow the thought made her grin as she contemplated it, already her enthusiasm made her feel eager to attempt such a feat. But first... the sea of giants.... This could be problematic though... Every journey began with a first step however, thus Kayleigh went and made her's within the mass of Lotharro clustered at the event.

She'd wiggled and wormed her way between many as they moved and cheered, her own body had been pressed into a couple from the tight space. She was keen to declare "Sorry" aloud within the mass as she continued, determined to keep her direction towards the center as she pressed on.

[Anakol Kallevigson]

Anakol was quite excited for the Ascension festival. It was a chance to meet Thetros, but it was also a chance for those who were born to achieve Reborn status. It made sense that the Lothar all ran to gather around him, much like children, excited to see him and clamoring to have his attention. Anakol would be a liar if he did not admit to the fact that he too, wanted Thetros to notice him. One of the perks of being taller than average meant that he could see over the crowd easier than some of his shorter brethren. He was able to notice in the crowd that Fridgar was here, and he lifted a hand to wave at him.

He was originally going to make his way over to him when he noticed that a woman was struggling to make her way through the throng of Lothar. He made his way over to her, not wanting her to be crushed by the larger men around her, and promptly plucked her up as if she weighed nothing, lifting her out of the throng and up in the air to place her upon his shoulders. "It's not smart to try and push your way through if you aren't as strong as those you are pushing. Want some help?" he asked, having no idea she didn't speak Haltunga as he smiled at her, waiting for her answer before adding, "I can carry you easily, so don't worry about if it will be a bother. You weigh practically nothing to me."

Haltunga

[Robin Stark]

Everything was saturated with celebration. The suns burned brightly in the midday; Robin was surprised to find the city air welcoming and pleasant. He supposed that it must be Thetros' work. A smile escaped him and his stomach warmed, tangled with winged worried. They had met something to each other, before this life, or at least Thetros had to Robin. It was a strange thing, he thought, to not know someone he'd once loved.

He remembered the village girl he'd loved from afar, before he'd known the elements. He remembered Hans. Thetros had promised him they'd loved each other, and while he recognized the man with piercing blue eyes and colorful tattoos, he couldn't have said why.

The mixed blood stood away from the crowd, a hopeful onlooker. The wind had brought him the crowds screams of admiration, their prayers; it was overwhelming, the love they felt for their god. Victor had never put much stock in the immortals, even at times seething with jealousy and spite over their power and their position. Robin had only inherited a solid indifference, never paying them much attention. They existed, yes, but until Thetros, they hadn't given him any reason to listen.

"Tell him 'hello'," he said, the wind mustering a breeze to carry his words. Robin frowned; he would have preferred something stronger but gods magic trumped his own. Still, there wasn't any other way he could hope to attract his attention -- his people were strong and tall, and even earthbound as he was, Robin couldn't hope to push his way through without injury.

[Varthakh]

Fridgar didn't have much time to consider the questions he would have asked Thetros. As he stood there, staring in silence, a feminine voice called out to him in Haltunga, asking for a higher perch? Fridgar blinked quickly, inhaling deep as he apparently woke from a daydream, looking to the source of the voice. The towering Lothar set eyes on... An Eidisi? He couldn't help but curl his expression and reel a little at the sight of her blue skin and white globes. "Holy shit," Fridgar mustered under his breath, earning a confused cock of Kleine's head.

"What is it, Fridgar?" the smaller Lothar asked with a patient smile. Fridgar looked to the other Lothar with a raised eyebrow before motioning to the Eidisi. "Oh, nice to meet you, miss. it's nice to see a non Lothar who's familiar with our tongue," the smaller of the two bowed courteously to the lady. Fridgar shook his head, shaking away the memories of Andaris. "Forgive me, I haven't seen an Eidisi since Rynmere, you wanted a better look you said?"

The Lothar shrugged. He supposed he owed the lady a better look at the immortal after rudely ignoring her, but first she asked what to expect from the festivities. "I'm not too sure myself, this is the first time I've gone to one of these things..." Fridgar confessed, reddening a little in the cheeks as he looked away. Kleine noticed this and smiled at the giant before turning to the unnamed Eidisi and nodding. "I'm sorry ma'am, I think we forgot to introduce ourselves. I am Kleine and this is Fridgar, take care that you don't get trampled while you're here!" The smaller Lothar smiled sweetly before turning back to the front, trying to stand on his tiptoes to get a look over the shoulder of a taller Lothar.

Unsure, Fridgar looked back to the Eidisi. "So uhh, do you still want that lift?" Fridgar offered with an extension of his hand. If she took it, Fridgar would pull her closer and shift his oversized paws so that they were under her arms. Very gently, he pressed and lifted, pulling her comparably small weight from the floor with such ease that others spectating would have thought she was weightless. "Watch yourself," he warned before lowering his head and moving his foot-long horns out of harms way. Then, he lowered the girl onto his shoulders and raised his head once more.

"Now, they're not for steering, but you can use them for handles if you're going to fall or something," Fridgar offered in reference to his new horns. They'd sprouted overnight in Kaer Jeger, likely residual effects from his overstepping last season. Altogether, Fridgar was eight feet tall, seven without his new horns. He was broad and muscular, perhaps more than any other Lothar they'd laid eyes on, except for maybe Mudra. very easily, with his mutated mass, Fridgar could contest for one of the biggest men in western, if not all Idalos. His tanned skin was coated in scars of various types; lacerations, punctures, slices, acid burns, gnarlys, teeth marks, claw marks... He'd had a fair share of battles and likely lost a lot of them for sure.

His hands were adorned with sharp claws that he'd practised well at not cutting people up by accident with. In his large jaw were a pair of long, sharp fangs that gave him a bestial visage. His eyes were mismatched, one completely black, filled with tiny white specks like stars in a black night sky while the other was a large brown iris with black instead of white for the canvas. His hair was shaggy and thick, almost qualifying for rope as it was, though somehow, the Lothar had managed to tie it back into a pony tail. All in all, Fridgar was rather fearsome in appearance, giant and threatening. Still, he avoided eye contact with the Eidisi for reasons unexplained, she might have been forgiven for thinking he was shy.

"Just let me know when you want down," Fridgar reminded as he looked with relative ease over the crowd. There, he saw Anakol waving at him! Fridgar smiled and waved back, only to change his expression to concern when Kayleigh was plucked from the crowd and plopped on the tall Lothar's shoulders. Seeing Fridgar's concern, Kleine nodded and spoke "You go ahead, I'm fine where I am," in an assuring tone. Fridgar looked to his friend and smiled, nodding. "Fancy going for a walk?" The giant asked, moving his head back a little as if trying to look at the Eidisi.

Leaving Kleine, Fridgar cut his way through the crowd as he b-lined for his fellow Jeger and dear friend, he hadn't seen Kayleigh in a while, it would be nice to catch up since the whole... blood thing... Regardless, he had a smile on his face as he approached. Only, when he looked to the edges of the crowd, he spied another familiar face; Robin. was everyone in Uthaldria here? No, he hadn't seen Aeon yet. While he still wasn't completely sure what to think of the other mage, he knew that he and Anakol knew each other. The three of them had participated in the journey to the major fracture to the north, after all.

"Hey, Robin! Over here!" Fridgar yelled in Common. "Sorry, he doesn't speak much Haltunga. I wasn't talking about you, honest," the Lothar assured, not seeming to realise that the Eidisi was also fluent in Common. Then, closing his eyes, Fridgar focussed on a pocket of ether beside Robin and one next to him before compressing and rupturing them. Suddenly, from thin air, a massive tear in the very fabric of space would rip open with a thundering boom. it appeared distorted and fiery with a bright flash of light. Fridgar stuck the tips of his claws through before retracting them, making sure that the portal was stable.

Once satisfied, he put the whole of his arm through the fiery tear in space. Fridgar's arm would appear next to Robin from the other end of the portal, grab his shoulder and pull him through. Some of the Lothar gathered stared amazed for a trill before turning their attention back to Thetros. When at last he'd pulled Robin through, he closed the portal. "Hey, haven't seen you since that whole thing with Kem. Anakol is over there, want to say hello?" Fridgar offered, surprisingly upbeat with the three new additions to his head; one Eidisi and two horns.

Regardless of his answer, Fridgar would put the human down and motion for him to follow as he blazed a trail through the Lotharen. He at last made it to Anakol and smiled pleasantly, "It's good to see you, Brother." He greeted the other Lothar with a slight nod. "And you Kayleigh, how's it going? Long time no see, right?" The Lothar switched between languages as though it were second nature. "Oh, Anakol. Guess who I bumped into? Robin, from the white silence quest?" If the human had followed, he'd show his hand to reveal his presence.

"Oh, you're probably wondering who this is right? She's an Eidisi, friendly unlike some of her kind," memories of Andaris stirred. "Anakol, say hello to the most recent addition to my head besides the horns, her name is..." Admittedly, switching between languages complicated things. For once, he felt like a social butterfly. It was rare that he knew so many people in one place, Gauthrel really had brought out the best in him. "So, what are you all doing here? Why are you attending the festival, brother? Aren't you already a reborn?"

[Silv]

"One page after another . . ."

The Lotharro started like he had seen a ghost. Silv had not thought that she would elicit such a response from the giant. She herself startled a bit when, breaking her gaze on the man’s face, she noticed the rest of him. Horns! And yet it was he who averted his eyes and muttered his curse, cowed. She just couldn’t believe it.

The Lothar perched on the man’s shoulder—Fridgar, the giant was apparently called—spoke to her after noting his friend’s discomfort. Silv smiled at his words, pleased by the reception she had received. If was not a common one. “Well met, indeed. Not often do I meet a Lothar with horns that were not attached to the pelt he wore.” Fridgar seemed to calm himself with a shake of his head, and even offered an explanation for his reaction to her. Eidisi in Rynmere? Silv was curious as to what his kin may have done to unnerve this man so, but she figured it best not to probe. If his scars were of any indication, and the fact of course that he was still living after all of them, this was not a man to upset.

Silv listened in silence as Fridgar answered her inquiry about the festival. She was a little surprised to hear that this was the first Ascension Day the giant had attended, but given his earlier comment about Rynmere, it was certainly plausible. Perhaps his travels had only concluded in recent seasons. Regardless, She couldn’t help but think this man was only going to need one appearance at this festival. If scars told a story, this man was an epic.

The passenger made with proper introductions after the giant fell silent again. Fridgar and Kleine. “Silv,” she replied. Fridgar surprised her yet again by holding out an arm and offering her the ride she had jested about at the start of that conversation. Hesitating for a moment, Silv shrugged, and let herself get lifted up onto the man’s shoulder like a pet bird. “What the hell, eh? The first Lothar I’ve ridden. My mother would be so proud to hear her daughter’s growing up.”

Silv watched Fridgar scan the crowd, and when he started moving through the crowd, she steadied herself with a hand hovering over the man’s horn. They seemed to be moving towards another similarly-burdened Lothar with a woman who seemed slightly less pleased by her newfound perch. All the while, the man’s mismatched eyes scanned the crowd. He called out a name, Robin, before stopping short in the crowd.

And then he opened a rift.

Like a magician’s hat, the giant reached his arm through the rupture and pulled a body through to his side. Not a rabbit, nor a bird, but a man. They seemed to be acquaintances with a mutual friend, Anakol, somewhere in the crowd. Silv figured it was the Lothar bearing the squirming woman on his shoulder. They continued towards the latter, and from her vantage, Silv couldn’t tell if this Robin followed. Perhaps he was still finding his bearings after being forcefully transported by the Lothar. Silv nudged Kleine with an elbow as they continued towards this Anakol. “That’s quite a handy skill he’s got there, making handsome men appear out of no where.”

Finally the two Lothar, burdens in two, converged in a new pocket of the crowd. Greetings and introductions were shared, and a series of questions by Fridgar were asked. Robin, Anakol, and Kayleigh. Fridgar and Kleine. Today had proven to be quite the eventful day, full of new faces.

“Silv,” she answered when Fridgar got around to introducing her. Her following statements were in Haltunga. Despite being a linguist, she was not feeling this dance of words Fridgar currently found himself in “I’m the newest trophy acquired from the big man’s hunts.” She patted Fridgar on his shoulder, hoping he’d feel it. “Do let me down, Fridgar, if you would. I’m tall enough to see from the ground.”

[Kayleigh]

She had managed to dodge and dart between giants with a good amount of effort, although admittedly the crowd seemed thicker the further she trekked. Kayleigh reasoned that the center would likely be the hardest place to reach, since that was where the thickest of the crowd resided. Then just as she'd paced herself to make way between a couple groups, one of the Lotharro promptly placed their hands on her hips and lifted her up. He said something to her in their native tongue but she didn't catch it, she'd been too busy with the soft yelp she gave from the element of surprise.

When he placed her atop his shoulders she somewhat struggled atop of them, her equilibrium slightly off track as she'd rested high off the ground. Kayleigh certainly wasn't accustomed to being this tall of a person, that much was for certain, and the fact a complete stranger held her on her shoulders made it worse. Both confused and bashful she maintained her balance with a slight lean forward, her hands pressed atop his shoulders as she looked all around her. She could see.... everything! By the Seven this was a view!

Quite the silver lining but how was she going to get down? She didn't know if the Lotharro that held her understood the Common Tongue any, and when she tried it didn't seem as though he responded to it any. "That's uh, quite alright. You didn't have to do that." Her eyes wandered from the Lotharro down below her to the other faces in the crowd, many of the people gathered here were focused on Thetros. Kayleigh too seemed to narrow her eyes with a hand used to shelter them from the suns, the figure of what she could assume was the Immortal up on sort of stage set at the heart of the gathering.

And then she heard it. That thunderous boom she'd heard when she first saw him use magic. Kayleigh looked everywhere for Fridgar but hardly noticed the same Lotharro from before, instead who she saw had been a completely changed Fridgar from before. Least to her he certainly changed. The giant had himself a new pair of horns even, a look that Kayleigh didn't really think suited him very much. All the same when he greeted the Lotharro beneath her, Kay took note of the name he mentioned aloud. Anakol? Was that his name?? Or did that mean something in their native tongue??

She was completely shit with trying to understand them, but all the same she gladly smiled when Fridgar approached. "Good to see you Fridgar," She smiled down to him with her eyes indirect, "been up and down really. Looks like 'up' again though." She answered him with her eyes down on Anakol, a pleading look shot to Fridgar that suggested 'save me' from the stranger danger below. At the sight of the Eidisi however her expression changed fast, she had been surprised to see one of the frost folk so far north, particularly here during the hottest part of the arc. Fridgar seemed to know these people well enough, so Kay figured maybe she could relax a little finally.

She felt so out of place here among the city of giants, but having at least one friendly face close made her feel at ease. "I thought to catch a glimpse of Thetros for myself actually, and I think I've got as good of one as I'll ever have." She reasoned with a nervous chuckle as she looked down to her carrier, a few soft pats on his head given as she made her request known. "Down boy? Please?"

[Robin Stark]

Robin remembered playing the game of petals. Felicia had taught him; they would pick the flowers together, when they were younger, before magic, and ask question after question after question, leaving behind them a trail of color and answers. Pink, he remembered, was for matters of the heart. He already knew the question he wanted ask.

A loud roar brought him back to the present -- a rupture. A hand grabbed him before, clawed and strong, through a portal of fire and brimstone. He panicked, lost suddenly in a world of unknown light, only to be brought back into the fields by a familiar face: Fridgar. "You startled me," he mustered an awkward laugh, a small breeze swirling around him, checking him. They fed off each other, in their washed fear and sudden relief. Robin breathed in, offering a tight smile. He was nervous. The knot in his stomach grew tighter, a strangely new feeling.

The magic, he thought to himself, trying to cut away the feeling as they made their way closer to the stage. "It's nice to see you both. You've seemed to have grown a bit," he pointed at the horns. Fridgar had been intimidating before, but now he seemed more monster than man. There was an Eidisi perched on his shoulders, and another lothar had a human woman on his. They were certainly a generous lot. He waved quickly at Anakol -- they didn't know much about each other, despite having gone to investigate the white silence together.

Silv, the Eidisi introduced herself -- or so Robin guessed. Again he felt the compulsion to learn the language here.
He was useless here.

"Robin," he offered the group, his breeze still clinging to him. The earth was sturdy underneath as they walked, "And I suppose I'm here for the same reason everyone else is -- to see Thetros," he blushed deeply, and he looked away, desperate to hide his feelings.

[Varthakh]

Thankfully, Robin wasn't nearly as jumpy as when they first met. To have the earth go nuts and start tripping people here would be disastrous. A gust of wind blew past, which he was certain that the human had summoned, or maybe it was checking on him? Fuck if he knew how defiance worked. "Well damn, Robin. Sohr Khal startle you, compression portals startle you...! Just don't break up the earth when I put you down?!" He half joked. Not about breaking the earth, Fridgar would surely be pissed if that happened again.

As for the trick with pulling handsome men from portals; Fridgar grinned. "You should see my Kindal, the most handsome I've pulled out by far!" He gave a hearty laugh as they approached the Anakol, even if he wasn't joking. By the time he'd reached the equally tall Lothar, Fridgar had reddened in the cheeks. three people in a row had either said something about, or had been caught staring at his horns. The Lothar was almost feeling bashful about them, perhaps he should try and find a large hat?

"Being the gracious hunter I am, I suppose I can let my trophy down just this once!" The Lothar mused before lowering his head and taking hold of the Eidisi, then lifting her. How did she know he was a hunter? She must have simply recognised his cloak or badge as the mark of the Jeger, Silv surely knew her stuff. Regardless, her feet would touch the floor again and his shoulders would feel liberated. It seemed that everyone was here for the same reason, to see the creator. The cheering and roaring Lothar all around them certainly were, why wouldn't his friends be?

Fridgar shrugged, smiling with relaxed eyelids. "Damn, an immortal shows up and half of Gauthrel decides that they want a look at him!" For good reason of course, this was Thetros, the creator. As for Fridgar, he came for two things. "Anyway, Anakol, you're just as gracious a hunter, let down your trophy, brother!" Fridgar nodded, looking to Kayleigh before pursing his lips. "Come on, she's not your Kindal yet!" Fridgar reminded before reaching over the other Lothar's head and taking hold of Kayleigh, he soon after put her down.

The Lothar put a palm on Anakol's shoulder, reassuring. Though, he failed to make eye contact and looked past him. "The next one you find, you can march all the way up to the creator's temple and marry right then and there!" of course, Kayleigh wouldn't have the faintest clue of what he was talking about, Robin either. Well, that was everyone introduced and together, Silv seemed like a genuinely nice Eidisi, unlike the folk from Rynmere. Was it just because he could speak proper common now? Was he smart enough to appease the blue wrath? Maybe she was just different? Only time would tell.

Fridgar then looked across the crowd for Kleine, who had been spying him. Kleine waved, probably making sure that Fridgar hadn’t gotten lost or anything. The Lothar smiled and waved back, shortly before he was swamped and disappeared as a taller Lothar stood in the way. His temper boiled at the notion of having some random Lothar cut off his view, so he took a deep breath in and slowly released it. This was a festival, no time for beating down chumps! Kleine was fine, probably.

When all was said and done, he turned forward, facing the platform at which Thetros stood. "He's the reason I'm in the path of the Jeger," Fridgar spoke suddenly, still facing forward. He then looked to the others, "He had Ganren himself recruit me from the Krigers after a nasty fight outside of Kaer Jeger," he said this in common as Anakol already knew the story of the Trachadon that 'attacked' Kaer Jeger. Sure, he didn't mention that they were fighting him outside of Kaer Jeger, but details were pesky.

They could have executed him for his disrespect toward the Jeger, who died every trial to try and make Gauthrel safe. But instead, the creator had spared him, even lead him to a new path. Fridgar wanted to know why, or at least to express his gratitude. That and he desperately wanted to be made reborn. That way, a repeat of Azzas and Aedan would be unlikely, whatever had split them apart. His eyes faced forward, though avoided contact with the Creator's, if he even looked this way.