2017-07-26: In The Baskar Tradition
- Log: In The Baskar Tradition
- Cast: Cyre H. Lorentz, Noeline, Avril Vent Fleur
- Where: Lacour - Market District
- Date: July 26th 2017
- Summary: Cyre explains a few Baskar traditions to Avril and Noeline, while the two ladies ask questions about Mediums.
<Pose Tracker> Cyre H. Lorentz has posed.
Lacour isn't exactly the place you go to find scholars of any but the most martial of specializations. For any serious study, you'd usually want to go to Curan or Linga or make the trip out to Kislev, Nisan or Guild-Galad. But for those looking for some more intellectual stimulation away from the arena or the local taverns, there are a few occasional gatherings of book clubs, philosophers and those sorts at some of the city's smaller cafes.
Much like the one that a certain wind priest is seated in front of, sipping at a cup of some spicy-smelling tea.
He looks like he might be expecting visitors.
<Pose Tracker> Noeline has posed.
"Ah, so this is where you went. My, I hope your feelings weren't too ruffled by our last talk?" sounds out a voice from behind Cyre, familiar and with a grin audibly laced through it. Sat at the table just behind the shaman is a rather familiar shock of black and crimson - the Crimson Noble, sat there as naturally as could be, watching the crowds go by as if Lacour weren't a hive of Drifters visiting a combat tournament.
After all, someone dressed so finely and flamboyantly wouldn't normally be seen around the crowds currently filling the city, and certainly not while lifting a china cup of tea to her lips, a book balanced easily in her fingers as she nimbly leafs through it.
That said, it probably isn't a particularly high noble thing to put one's feet up on the chair across the table, let alone have a small spherical ARM bob out of the cafe to deliver treats to you on a plate while whirring out a mechanical whine the whole way.
Most of all, 'THE FORBIDDEN LOVE: A GUARDIAN'S DESIRE' is prrrobably not socially proper.
<Pose Tracker> Cyre H. Lorentz has posed.
If weird Guardian-Shipping Smut isn't socially proper, then...
No, actually, that's perfectly okay being not proper. It's like if someone wrote slashfic about Jesus.
Cyre sips loudly at his tea in obvious defiance of the voice hovering directly over his shoulder. Cyre has seen this silly Appear At A Table Behind You Trick before, and he for one will not give in!!
"Noeline," Cyre sips even more obviously. Maybe something in his tea tastes better when aerosolized!? Or maybe it's just hot. "You know, there's plenty of room at this table so that we don't have to talk in opposite directions from one another. Unless my completely understandable suspicion of the company you keep somehow means any table I touch instantly turns into lava, or something silly like that."
<Pose Tracker> Avril Vent Fleur has posed.
Lacour is not typically known for its scholarly pursuits, no, but there's one thing that it does have going for it at the moment, which might only help boost (temporarily) the attendance of those little discussion groups and meetings:
There are an awful lot of people in town for the tournament.
A lot of people, which includes Avril and her friends, newly returned from their expedition to the south (and the questions those little adventures had raised).
Though, looking on the bright side here: she had crossed paths with Cyre again, a person whose standing and abilities Lunata had commented on as well.
Avril is alone at the moment -- technically, honestly not a difficult thing to accomplish sometimes, what with Dean being Dean (and poor Rebecca left as babysitter) -- as she approaches the cafe, pausing a moment not far from the pair of tables, her gaze searching out...
Aha.
Her pace quickens as she walks up to the table Cyre is seated at and...
Walks just a little bit past him. Uh--?
"I thought that I saw you," she says... to the small ARM, currently balancing a plate on top of itself. Then turns, towards the seated woman. "Noeline, it's so good to meet you again--"
And here, Avril stops, lifts a hand to her lips, and glances sidelong at Cyre. Whoops?
And thus in short order, she faces the shaman and ducks into a very shallow bow. "It's good to meet you again as well."
<Pose Tracker> Noeline has posed.
"Hmm~..." the Crimson Noble trails off, her chin on her hand with an amused grin. "Not anything so unrealistic - but humans are oh-so-able to bear grudges, you know, and often in terribly sudden and random directions. There are plenty who have lashed out at me for simply being near Riesenlied - just as there are plenty who have lashed out at Riesenlied, just because she shares a race with some who actually mean humans harm."
Perhaps it's a good thing that Avril arrives when she does, before Noeline can get any further into that line of thought and reignite an argument; instead, she scoffs in clear and bright amusement as Avril first greets one of her ARMs, reaching up to swiftly reclaim the plate before the sphere's bobbling response - twirling twice and emitting a low whistle - can send her pastries tumbling into the street.
"Miss Avril, good morning," she greets brightly, her grin briefly showing her fangs; it's all in good nature, though, as she carefully turns down a corner of her book and sets it closed on the table in front of her. "You've come quite a long way since Gounon. Our apologies for leaving abruptly, of course, but things got just a little hectic in the meanwhile. Did you find either of your companions?" she adds, gently nudging out a seat from her table to offer it to the woman in green.
This is totally not because she'd then be winning on seats taken 2 to 1 or anything.
<Pose Tracker> Cyre H. Lorentz has posed.
"What, me, hold a grudge? Nooooo, why would I hold a grudge?" Cyre asks, looking like someone who is definitely being sarcastic on the subject of grudges. "I mean, it's not like she wasn't at Adlehyde or anything like that. How silly." Siiiii~iiip.
He seems to be holding a grudge.
Just a little bit.
But then Avril appears! Cyre's eyes turn up to the MYSTERIOUS WAIF and raises an eyebrow in a little greeting as SHE WALKS RIGHT ON BY LIKE SHE DIDN'T EVEN SEE HIM THERE.
"Uh."
"Well!" Cyre chirps, idly nudging A CHAIR OF HIS OWN out from under his table. "I guess I won't have anyone to talk to about the Guardians today, huh? Maybe I should be getting on my way home. Maybe after another cup of tea." Beat. Well at least she said hi. Cyre sighs, "Yeah, hey to you too. You want to pull up a chair? Plenty of room."
<Pose Tracker> Avril Vent Fleur has posed.
Let it be known that Avril is a little... bit enchanted by Noeline's ARMs.
They even almost feel like they're reminding her of something specific, like the word that's just on the tip of your tongue but you can't bring to mind fully.
She even goes so far as to offer up a faint smile as it dips and twirls in a sort of greeting.
"Have I?" she asks, looking a little baffled, and indeed yes carrying on a conversation even though Cyre is like right there. "Oh, yes, I did. We decided to travel to Lacour to see the tournament together. I'm not certain precisely where or what to look for next, but..."
But she's had some thoughts on the matter.
A chair is scooted out.
Poor Cyre, at least Avril realizes her error quickly?
"Actually, I would still like to speak to you about Guardians, if you have the time," she says, as if taking him at his promised threat.
Only to look, again, at another chair. ...This is a dilemma.
"Perhaps," she says, after some deliberation, "We should all sit together? If we move one of the chairs over, there should be enough room."
She is, perhaps, regrettably ignorant of the problem here.
<Pose Tracker> Noeline has posed.
"And yet, she and her team did not kill a single person, put out as many fires as possible, and injured only those who attempted to prevent them from upholding the Treaty of Iscariot," the 'vampire' responds, almost placid about it before she lets out a light sigh that is ever so slightly frustrated.
"Really, now, Gebler themselves did more damage than she did, and yet I do not see you rushing off in Aveh's direction. If it is demons as a whole, then be as suspicious as you like, and I will certainly not stop you - but I will always contend, after decades of watching her deeds, that Riesenlied is much better than that."
As if to punctuate that point, she lifts from her chair, raising her eyebrows towards Avril with another of those bright smiles. "Ah, speaking of which - she is doing much better now, in part due to your help. Things have been a trifle overwhelming for her, as of late, but she's the sort to bring such things down on herself, as you can imagine."
The Crimson Noble scoops up her saucer and plate, bringing it over to the other table to sit down. Behind her, her orbs twirl around Avril for a moment, perhaps pleased that someone would show them such affection. Not that Noeline's mean, per se, just-- a bit dismissive and haughty around them.
"Ah, perhaps it's good that you're here, come to think of it," she hums towards Avril as she sits down. "Certainly, I would like to pick both your brains."
<Pose Tracker> Cyre H. Lorentz has posed.
"Yeah but I didn't hear of her doing much to keep those fires from spreading. Or, you know, punching that lady with the scythe out. Something something good men do nothing, something something banality of evil?" Cyre shrugs. "I read about it in some philosophy book a while back. A-nee-way!"
The shaman takes a long draw from his now mostly empty cup as the ladies finally decide to CHOOSE THE TABLE OF RIGHTEOUSNESS over the TABLE OF ILL-REPUTE. Cyre doesn't look smug. He's part cat. He can't look smugger than he normally does already. "So. Anyway. Guardians, huh? They're pretty crazy. One's a turtle. One's a bird. I hear one is literally an asteroid too, but the best one is a tiger." Beat. "What did you guys want to talk about, specifics-wise?"
He seems to be okay with telling Noeline about this MOST SENSITIVE OF TOPICS.
Maybe because she is some kind of weird not-shaman too?
Curious.
<Pose Tracker> Avril Vent Fleur has posed.
Riesenlied is doing better, Noeline informs Avril. This earns her a slight but relieved-looking nod from the young lady in green. "I'm glad to hear of it." Then, briefly, she pauses. "If she feels as if she can, my friends would like to meet her, and you. They would like to thank the both of you for your assistance."
Once more, Avril flashes a faint smile in the direction of the orbs as they pass before similarly pulling out a chair and squeezing herself in. Almost a little too properly, she folds her hands in her lap.
"Yes. I had spoken to a young woman named Lunata, Cyre," Avril says, cutting to the chase on the topic it seems -- or as much as one can when Cyre races right across the finish line with the baton -- "While I have some knowledge of the Guardians, I am unfamiliar with the ways of the Baskar. I understand that there are those such as yourself who use Mediums to commune with the Guardians. What can you tell me about these Mediums? I would like to know the difference between them and my own."
Her own... what?
<Pose Tracker> Noeline has posed.
"Yes, how dare she not die immediately, dooming her kind to their own hatred, rather than attempt to guide them slowly towards peace," scoffs Noeline rather lightly - and then breaks into a amused, fanged grin as she lifts her book to also bring it over to the table, laying it down before him as if to emphasize its title. "Perhaps you should not believe everything you read in a book, hm?"
Making light of it is about all she can do, at present; it's an argument that has come up time and time again, and while Noeline knows enough to realize it's patently ridiculous - that Berserk would love an excuse to break Riesenlied over his knee, shrug, and move on - she's at least also aware that tempers are still high this close to Adlehyde. Maybe in time, maybe in time. She's not good at patience or resolve, but perhaps Riese is rubbing off on her on that front.
Shaking it away, she slips into a seat across from the pair, beckoning Strife out of its orbit around Avril's shoulders with a slight huff. "Of course," she nods to Avril, then raises her eyebrows. "We'd be delighted to, though I do believe that we are looking to move on from town in the near future. Still, I'll see what I can arrange, hm?"
Looking back to Cyre, she's evidently ready to bury the hatchet on their discussion, tilting her head. "Names and domains are easy enough to research - I dare say I've encountered most of them over the years. What I am more curious about are the rites involved - how to commune with them and channel their power. I am a neophyte of a sealed Guardian, so I cannot say for sure how much is even possible at present - but I would still like to see how far I can go."
She doesn't seem surprised at the idea of Avril having some kind of 'different' Medium - instead, her curiosity shoots right towards something else the other woman says. "--Lunata?" she comments, her eyebrows shot upwards in surprise. "That-- is hardly a name I expected to hear."
<Pose Tracker> Cyre H. Lorentz has posed.
Cyre gives Noeline a look.
It's the kind of flat stare that seems to say 'really, you're going to go down this road? Well, okay. But this way lies maximum sarcasm. You've been warned.'
All that with a look. Cyre's face is very expressive.
"I dunno, I mean, I'm not going to say that Moor Gault can't try and wiggle his tailfeathers for Schturdark in the privacy of their own home when the sun goes down. And who am I to deny the passion that burns in Leita Salk's eyes when Ione Paua walks into a room? I'm just a priest. The love life of the gods is their own business."
Cyre sets his cup down in its saucer. It's empty. The poor little porcelein cup. There's a light brown tint to the enamel from years of use, but it adds a bit of charm to the rustic china. "Right, so you uh. Those are two pretty different topics. Let's start with the easier one."
"Mediums! I have one. It's made of stone, I got it from the old folks back home when they decided that I had the chops to be a priest and the right sort of aptitude or affinity or whatever for Fengalon. Among my people, a priest is buried with his medium, as a sort of memorial and honor for his service to the Guardians. When a new priest is to be chosen, the old folks get together and work their magic to call the powers of the Guardian in question into an appropriate medium. I'm not entirely sure how they do it, though. That kind of thing only gets taught to those who've walked the path for much longer than I have."
As far as rituals go," Cyre shrugs. "That's kind of hard to answer. There are a lot of them. Usually the traditional one involves making a pilgrimage to a shrine of the Guardians and offering some kind of tribute and prayer. If the Guardian has something to speak to you about, it might just make its desires heard. There are others, though, and I think it differs from tribe to tribe. The ones we had back home were mostly ceremonial songs, dances and trances. The first two are kind of hard to just... teach someone, but I can probably whip up the right potion for the third, if you're up for a bit of a spirit quest."
By which he probably means 'if you're good to get crazy high.'
<Pose Tracker> Avril Vent Fleur has posed.
"Thank you. I believe they would appreciate it," Avril replies, briefly glancing up as Strife circles her head and then flits away at Noeline's beck and call. Softly, she giggles, an unusual break in her usual demeanor.
Blue eyes turn briefly in Noeline's direction. "Yes, that was her name. Are you two familiar with one another?" In a rare show of tact, Avril doesn't specify how or why Lunata is relevant in context with Cyre.
Though it MIGHT not be hard to figure this one out.
"Of stone... that is what I had heard," Avril says, lifting one gloved hand from her lap to briefly touch against her lips. Slightly, her delicate brow crinkles. "Then, your people create a new one for each person? Is that the case with all Baskar, or your tribe's tradition alone?"
In silence, she watches and listens as Cyre answers Noeline's question next.
They can speak to the Guardians by making an offering at the appropriate place.
Among other things.
"Where are the shrines located?" is the first question Avril offers up.
"What do you mean by, 'spirit quest'?" is the second, as he wraps up his explanation.
And then, shifting a moment in her seat, she brings out a strange, octagonal object. It looks, for lack of a better word, 'high-tech'. Artificial, even. It gleams softly in the sunlight.
"This is the Medium I use. Is it at all familiar to you?"
<Pose Tracker> Noeline has posed.
"Oh, really, don't you know anything about good fiction? It's all about contrasts. Schtur-Gault I will give you, but Leita Salk would cozy up to Stare Roe, if you ask me," notes the vampire with folded arms and a huff of air, "And Ione Paua would only have eyes for Duras Drum. If they have eyes. And if Duras Drum were not sealed away, I suppose."
She pauses, though, and relents from terrible sacrilege as Avril turns towards her. "I know she is a waitress," the Crimson Noble huffs loudly as she folds her arms, suddenly sulking in her chair. "I did not know she had any particular connection to a given Guardian. She seemed quite the sort to stay safely away from such dangerous things in general, and I will be rather put out if she is throwing herself into this whole fight."
Ha ha, ha.
Strife orbits around her in a lazy sort of circle as she turns her ear towards Cyre's explanations, frowning a little as she brings her hand to her chin. "Well. If nothing else, that implies that the Medium I found was at least not from your tribe, though I do assume that each tribe has its own rites and rituals when it comes to this sort of thing. The one I found was left neatly on a cairn, exposed to the elements and rather worn."
"In fact--" she adds as Avril unveils her unusually shaped Medium to rest it on the table. The way in which the Crimson Noble cranes to take a look at it is not one of surprise, but one of renewed interest as she hums quietly to herself. "According to Miss Avril, it is another of this sort."
She leans back in her chair, settling there. "I dare say I am not the sort to really undergo a spirit quest - think of it as meditation towards a goal, Miss Avril, rather helped by incenses and... let us say 'spirits' of a more mundane kind. An offering on the other hand - well, I did rather assume I'd have to do something of the sort anyway, but it's good to have a little in the way of confirmation. I suppose if I were able to summon the Guardian's power for more than a few moments, I might do rather better at it."
<Pose Tracker> Cyre H. Lorentz has posed.
Of course Cyre knows exactly what the devil is going on with Lunata. He knows very well! But he's not just about to yak about it to some people on the street without her being around to stop him. That would be INCREDIBLY rude!! Also probably not the best idea. But at least Avril seems to be relatively innocent in her intentions.
"I'm pretty sure some of the other ones might hand mediums down generation-to-generation," Cyre says after a short moment of thought. "Other tribes probably have other, stranger customs, but I couldn't speak for them."
The sudden interest in Spirit Questing brings a smile to Cyre's face-- before Noeline cruelly crushes his hopes under her TERRIBLE, POINTY HEEL. "Hrm. Well, it's the best way to get in touch with them. You just need someone to make sure nothing bad happens along the way, and it'll probably be fi--"
Avril sets a thing on the table.
Cyre stares at it.
"...That's a Medium?" His brow wiggles ever so slightly. "Uh. Well... The general aesthetic looks a little like some of the machines I've seen before, but... No, I've never seen anything quite like that before."
Noeline seems to have, though.
"Mmmn, well. If it is a Medium, then... I've heard stories of some Mediums just sort of... Finding their way to those who are meant to use them. But those are mostly old Baskar legends; nothing like that's really happened among us for a long time, as far as I'm aware."
<Pose Tracker> Avril Vent Fleur has posed.
It's a little bit... late for Lunata to stay away from dangerous things, unfortunately.
This, Avril has already learned.
And so: Avril's gaze rests on Noeline after the 'Crimson Noble' utters those words for a moment or two. Ever so slightly, she frowns. "Would it truly be unfortunate if she had?" she asks, tilting her head to one side. The question is truly an innocent one, but...
Alas, for the sudden loss of tact once again.
"Yes," comes Avril's response, joining Noeline's own on the topic of Mediums in the Baskar traditions. "It would seem so. I do wonder if another tribe could have been involved in the one I bear, but from what I have learned of Baskar tradition thus far and what I know of this Medium, I feel this is entirely separate." She straightens where she sits, her gaze growing a touch distant as she mulls the matter over. "...However, it is always important to ensure that other possibilities are eliminated and to be thorough."
This story, she had heard in a fashion from Noeline once before. It had been chewed by the elements, left in a state unlike the certainly aged but well-taken care of disc she lays onto the table. "Yes. I received this and another like it from a man with whom Dean is acquainted. It appears to have been meant for me." Her eyes slightly hooded as she gazes down at it -- and whatever mysteries it might hold -- Avril gazes sidelong at Noeline.
They find the ones they are destined for. She's sure of that, somehow.
Here, she glances up at Cyre, nodding once again. "Yes, this is also a Medium. To be more specific, an Original Artificial Medium. As you say, it does resemble machinery, does it not?" She pauses, as if considering her words -- if only briefly -- and continues: "I have been attempting to learn more about it, since it appears to be different from the traditions of the Baskar. Thus..." Thus, she had gone to the source, so to speak. Lifting a hand, she reaches out across the table to just brush a fingertip against the device. "Despite lacking the sort of training you described, I am still able to forge a connection with the Sea Guardian Lucadia through this."
The turn of phrase appears to have just left Avril rather baffled. Her brow furrows, her lips purse. "Spirits of a more mundane kind...?" Her gaze travels between Cyre and Noeline, as if seeking somewhere the proper answer.
It appears that a decision has been made in one particular direction all the same, though. "I feel it may be for the best to visit a shrine, in any case. There might be something there that might help me remember."
<Pose Tracker> Noeline has posed.
Noeline's only initial response towards news of Lunata is to furrow her brow - she has to raise rather an eyebrow at Avril, however, apparently genuinely concerned as she folds her arms. "It-- not so much 'unfortunate', but definitely extremely worrying. That girl had barely picked up so much as a trowel, let alone a sword and shield, certainly let alone a Guardian. I would much rather she remain where she can be safe." Where she can provide me with cake, she nearly adds, but chooses instead to silence herself in a huff of air.
Instead, she indicates the Medium sat innocently on the table with a hand. "At the very least, we can say relatively conclusively that something about this Original's nature is rather more-- permissive, I suppose you could say. My kind is not exactly the sort to be in touch with the Guardians, you understand. In fact, I have tried a number of times to commune with a regular Medium and had absolutely no luck at all - and yet, here I am with a scattered, broken Medium inside of me, and now I can manage well enough."
Noeline pauses, and then grins. "It is at once enthralling, and also rather a shame. Here I thought I was simply very special," she jokes merrily. "Fate is not exactly something I am used to relying on, I must admit."
She pauses, and then tilts her head. "... at the very least, I am aware of a number of Guardian sites from my time roaming in Aquvy. As I understand it, there is also a generalized temple somewhere over towards the Badlands a little way, though I must admit that I'm not clear whether it particularly counts as a suitable place of worship given its general nature."
<Pose Tracker> Cyre H. Lorentz has posed.
Cyre feels the hair on his neck bristle at the mention of... an Artificial Medium? What does that even mean? Sure, all Mediums that he knows of are artificial in the sense that human hands are associated with their creation, but... There's something about the obviously technological aspect of this particular device that feels almost sacrilegious for some reason.
Maybe it's the notion that technology implies mass production?
Maybe it's that someone can apparently draw upon the power of the Guardians through these relics without even really going through the usual hoops?
Maybe it might be worth returning to that temple again to have another look-see?
"You said someone gave these to your friend?" Cyre frowns, running a hand contemplatively across his chin. "What kind of person was this acquaintance? A Baskar, or something else?" And what does he have to do with Mediums, exactly?
"You feel a connection to this Medium then? Something to do with those missing memories of yours?" Cyre asks, frowning slightly. "Well. Maybe you were a priest in your former life. I don't know, that kind of thing's beyond me. That temple you're talking about, though-- I think I might have heard something about it. I'd need to remember exactly what, though. There are a lot of different shrines around, you know?"
Cyre stretches back across his chair. A few bones pop softly as they shift and settle back into place. "...Anyway. These things are weird. I think if you don't have any more leads in particular, it may be worthwhile to visit a few of the nearby ruins to find some. Though I guess you've already been doing that, huh?"
<Pose Tracker> Avril Vent Fleur has posed.
"Yes. One of the elements I have been able to determine is that the Artificial Original Mediums appear to allow anyone to use them, as opposed to the methods you have described, Cyre. It does not even seem to discriminate based on one's origin." Namely, whether they come from space or Filgaia. Or even the Moon, probably. She glances over at the Metal Demon and inclines her head. "Noeline's situation only supports this conclusion."
Now, she just wonders what would happen if a Baskar Shaman were to attempt to use one of these Mediums... but that's a suggestion she may save for another day, in a more discreet location than this.
"I... am not sure," Avril says with a shake of her head. "I believe this man, Tony, is an engineer, but..." She closes her eyes briefly. "Dean would know more about him than I. As we were leaving his hometown, he gave them to Dean as a gift... and somehow, I knew how to activate them. Did I learn how to do that somewhere...?" She frowns, her expression distantly troubled.
Gently, Avril picks up the Medium again, holding it carefully in both hands as she brings it back towards herself. Blue eyes turn downwards as she stares pensively at it and the dull reflection of herself therein.
"Yes. There is a connection here. I'm certain." Thoughtfully, she frowns at the Medium. "A priestess..." she murmurs, as if attempting to mentally place herself in such a role, to search through her mind for any glimmer of recognition. "I suppose... that would answer many questions. I gather I am more aware of certain things than most. ...You said that there was a Guardian Temple, Noeline? Perhaps there could be answers there."
Wherever it is.
She takes a slight, shallow breath, then finally tucks the Medium away, as if reluctant to do so. "For the time being... Yes, you are correct. There may be other answers hidden in the ruins around here. Or, perhaps, something that I will find familiar." More familiar than usual, at least.
<Pose Tracker> Noeline has posed.
"Dean... Dean?" mutters Noeline to herself; it's clear she must have heard the name from somewhere, but wherever she picked it up is currently escaping her memory. For a moment she glances at the little flying sphere next to her as if it might somehow be able to answer for her, but it just bobs in place in an ARM version of a shrug.
"I do not yet know where exactly this Temple is - to be honest, I only have rough memories of the ones I've visited prior to this, as it was certainly quite a while ago - but I am looking into it now, with the help of Madame Anje and the occasional trip back to the Abbey. I would be more than willing to share its location in time - after all, I have plenty of my own business there, and a number of things I would like to ask the Guardians should I get the chance."
For a moment, she picks at her now-empty place; Cecilia-style, the pastries on it have been devoured somewhere along the way without an apparent pause for breath. "When in doubt, answers to the past are usually to be found in ruins. Whether it is matters of ARMs, of Demons, or of Golems, there you can typically find-- them?"
Something twigs in her head, and she raises her eyebrows high. "Ah-- yes, now I remember. That was one of the names being yelled from on top of a miniature Golem as it strolled around town without a thought," she huffs, suddenly aggrieved. "I thought I would never get the dust it kicked up out of my hair."