atworldsend | action | open, choose your own adventure

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action | open, choose your own adventure

a. the garden

Tamhas hates this place, if he's honest. He tries not to - making the best of bad situations and all that - but it feels wrong. The Dark Tower is so like Yggdrasil that sometimes, in the corner of his eye - because the Tower is always in the corner of your eye, he's found - he forgets it isn't the tree, thinks for a heartbeat that maybe he can find a way back. Not quite home, but the closest he has. But then he looks and it's a damn Tower, dark where the tree was all radiant, glorious light. And the fractured plate above is stifling. The sun, Tamhas' guiding beacon, feels so very far away even on bright days. A little like Svartalfheimr, but he supposes there is something to appreciate about this place in that.

It could be worse. It could be Svartalfheimr.

And it's not all bad, he supposes. The garden is nice, even if near all the plants are strange. He's always liked work like this, anyway. Steady, menial. It's comforting, soothing, quelling the itch in his hands. Sian would be delighted at all the strange new growing things to look at, even if there's wrongness here she'd hate, a thought which always makes him miss his sister keenly - Tamhas doesn't know a lot about all the various types there are here, and he's a farmer, not a herbalist, but it's enough. He tries to make it enough, anyway.

So, when he's not fighting monsters somewhere, he frequently comes here. Waters, plants, prunes, harvests - anything that's needing done, anything folk might need a hand with. And he takes solace in it, finds some measure of peace here, which is why he looks fleeting surprised when he almost walks into someone. He's usually more alert than that.

"Ah, sorry -" a fleeting smile, turning slightly wry as he inclines his head in greeting. "- you'd think a man would have learned to pay better attention by now, wouldn't you?" There's a cluster of blue banora white apples in his arms; after a moment, eyebrows raising, he holds one out in offering.

b. a street

A lot is strange and different and weird here, but some things are just as Tamhas remembers. Fighting is one of them. Most things here take to his sword as well as most things did back there, which Tamhas is remarkably grateful for. It's always good to do something. So, when he tumbles down from the plate to a street and finds he has company, he's not terribly perturbed.

He doesn't know what he's fighting. They're like the skeletal, feathered kin of Valravn, but different - of course they bloody are - but they come at him shrieking with claws like sickles and Tamhas responds in kind, falling easily into a dance he knows well. It's strange, fighting alone, not feeling the strength of his friends round about him, not having to dodge the spells Morven slings or consider tossing opponents back for Kenna or making openings for Halldis - but then Tamhas realises he's not fighting alone.

Friend or foe? He can't spare the time to figure that out, fending off blows and delivering his own as furiously as he is, but he resolves to hope for the former and deal with the latter after if necessary. He can't even tell if it's someone in the fight, or someone trying to escape it. Either way, he moves solidly between this new party and the creatures, light flashing along the length of his blade as he brings it down, cutting down one and scattering the rest, just for long enough that he can swiftly glance over at the new arrival. In battle, his face is stern, lips curled in a snarl, though that fades in a moment of genuine concern as speaks.

"You alright?"

And then he's turning back to face the next line of attacks, sweeping out in an arc with his sword to meet them.

c. the forest

Sometimes, it's easier to be a bear than a man. That's proven generally true in the woods around World's End. His senses are better for it, for a start, and the prevailing cold doesn't touch him, and there are things that would attack a man on sight that don't so much as look up at a passing bear.

(Sometimes, Tamhas attacks instead. Not today.)

And he's better at hunting as a bear than he is as a man, which he might consider a point of embarrassment, but he reasons that there are things he can do better than a bear. Hopefully. At the moment, he's up to the forelegs in river water, catching fish. But watchful eyes may notice that this bear, huge and golden furred, is perusing his catch with great, and perhaps unusual, scrutiny. Just as Tamhas is not a botanist, he's not a fishmonger, either, and the fish are as weird here as the plants, so every time he catches one it takes careful deliberation to decide if it's worth eating - or taking to someone who better enjoys and knows cooking - or if it might even be dangerous. So many things are dangerous, here.

The range he's caught today are definitely fish. He can tell that much, though there's one that's borderline, as far as he's concerned. Dubiously, he noses them further along the bank, and turns back to the water.

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Tamhas is somewhat heartened by the way those shadows seem to retreat. To each their own and all that, but well, he's always favoured the sunnier side of things. Still, it strikes him as almost strange; this man isn't like anyone he's met who uses such skills. In fact, he seems almost sunny himself in the absence of his magic. Cheerful, warm, friendly even if guarded. It makes him curious. He listens to him speak with raised eyebrows, surprised to be such a novelty to the other.

"No?" He glances at the blade, shrugging. "Rarer than axes and spears, I suppose." He shoots him a smile, bringing his free hand over his heart as he bows his head courteously. "I promise, I shall keep all my pointy things pointed elsewhere, Shimmer or Seamus." His smile grows, and as the sword is deemed clean he swings it back into place. "My name's Tamhas. Just Tamhas. Glad to make your acquaintance."

"Axes huh? I've seen folk usin' hatchets before. I'll stick with small things, just between us." Tamhas is sweet. He enjoys the smile tossed towards him and the gentle concern as that hands slips over his heart. His own finds it way to cover his heart in mimic as he bobs his head. "In return I'll keep all my hex-slingin' aside as well. Firebolts can be tricky sometimes." He admits with a grump before bouncing back.

"Tamhas. I like that, just Tamhas. Pleasure to meetcha, shame about the location. Glad you were here though, don't think I could handle that by myself." And he was also grateful that the man hadn't immediately turned on him like some frightened folk might have. Small blessings. "You can call me either name as you fancy. They're both mine well enough."

"By all means, whatever works," he shoots back, with a flicker of a grin. Seamus' - Shimmer's? - tactics clearly work well for him. "Pleasure's mine, though I agree we could have picked somewhere nicer. And happy to help. Always good to have someone alongside." And in truth, while Tamhas doesn't favour meeting someone in a battlefield of any size, he can't deny it can be a good place to get a measure of someone. Or a start, at least.

His head cocks, one eyebrow quirking in a curious look. "You truly have no preference? Hmm..." The friendliness inspires the same in himself; it's easier than usual to shrug away some of his usual sombre mood. "I'll have to see what sticks, Seamus or Shimmer. Latter seems befitting, given your..." His fingers wiggle in his direction in what is obviously an illustration of magic. "Craft. What came first, the name, or the ability - if it's not prying, I mean."

"The name!" He says as he throws his hands out wide with a joyful laugh. "The craft came second, though it does suit me a bit in a fight, don't it?" He swaggers closer, still very much like a cat inspecting new terrain as he looks him over.

"You're a big fella." He comments, raking his eyes over him curiously once more, committing details to memory and filing away interests. "...Where I come from, I was considered tall, but I keep feelin' short around people here. Glad to make a friend though. So many people are so serious here. You new? Never seen your face around here, and I'd remember it." He adds with a sharp grin as he gently fixes the cuffs of his sleeves.

"It does indeed," Tamhas concedes, glancing between Seamus and their grim surroundings. He has half a mind to at least nudge the corpses to the side or something, so they're not in folk's way, but their remains seem to be crumbling even as he looks, bone slowly whisping away on the wind. Deeming it unnecessary to meddle, he turns back to Seamus - and finds himself blushing faintly at the I'd remember it.

"Well... you'd be considered tall where I come from, too, if it makes you feel any better." He rolls a shoulder in a little shrug. "Been here a wee while. Not long - less than a month?" Sometimes, it's a little hard to tell here. Days pass, but it all feels so muddled sometimes. "Be glad to have a friend, as well. Have you been here long, yourself?"

Seamus helps them along, nudging at a carcass and watching it crumble. "Hate these varmints a lot." He said with a curl of his nose before turning his attention back to Tamhas, drinking him in curiously. Less than a month... sympathy welled in his eyes as he gave him a long look.

"Longer. Two months? Maybe more? I don't ken onto time real well here and it all kinda flows... weird. Been awhile though. Someone told me time stands still back home though, so... kinda hopin' that's true."

"They're not the nicest, no," Tamhas concedes, looking over them grimly. "Shall we put some distance between ourselves and them, then, Seamus-or-Shimmer?" With a fleeting grin, he begins to move down along the street, slow enough that it will be easy for Seamus to fall in with him if he desires. As he speaks, he glances sidelong at him, something flinty in his expression.

"I... heard that too. It sounds like it might just be - I don't ken, a hollow comfort? But..." He huffs, smiling minutely, shrugging. "It is a comfort."

Seamus dropped in alongside him with a soft huff, shoulder to shoulder, or would be if he crowded him, but he's still keeping just barely to a polite distance. Their eyes meet and he looks at the flint he spies there, his own eyes showing his surprise as he sucks in a breath.

"It's a comfort. Don't like to think about business undone, but... could be worse. I mean it ain't great, but... I got my family here, and that's more'n most can say!" Though really, he needed to do something about his space. It was small already and keeping Lulabelle in a house wasn't really great either. But she's safe here.

Tamhas hums in agreement, nodding - then glancing over to Seamus with a raised eyebrow. "You have family here? That..." He can't imagine wanting his family here, such as it is. It's dangerous, bleak... and yet he misses them sorely. Would that be mutual, if time is not frozen back home?

Don't be a fool, he tells himself.

"That... must be heartening. Did you arrive together?"

"Well..." Seamus looks guilty for a split second at that. "Alright, most might not call 'em family, but they're about all I got so." He shrugs, fixing him with a sly smile. "They're animals. My rat came with me, but he's never far from my side, and my mule..." His smile flickers a little and dips to a slightly more serious expression. "She followed me here, somehow. Almost got eaten by somethin' out in the woods but we-- this guy showed up, Yoro, and he helped me save her. She's okay now though, we're okay." He was convincing himself in that as much as he was Tamhas.

"Sorry, I got a little sidetracked there. They help though."

Although briefly surprised to find out Seamus' family is a rat and a mule, Tamhas' expression swiftly settles in another smile, and he nods. "Family's family, I suppose?" Gods know there have been times he'd rather have had a rat and a mule. "I'm... sorry to hear she was in distress? Glad it's been sorted." He sounds slightly uncertain, like he's trying to think of what the right thing to say, but the sincerity remains. "Must be good to have companions about."

His lips part in a grin and after a moment he decides that this man is okay. A bit uncertain overall, but more like he's trying to figure out what best to say than acting as if he's a stick up his nethers like some holy men he knew. She he gives him a tip of his hat as they walk side be side.

"Family's family. My friends are either back in Coffin Rock waitin' on me or... this is a longer adventure than I'd thought. I'll figure it out." No doubt they'd do better without him anyway, but he doesn't voice that part.

And a pause as he listens to his words, waving a hand. "She's safe, I'm safe. Mr Cheese is safe and now-- you're safe! All fine and dandy!"

There's a huff of laughter at that. "Well, my thanks. Glad we're all accounted for," he says, with a flicker of a grin, hand pressing to his heart as though deeply moved.

As they walk, he's struck with a sense of nervous butterflies, which flutter overtop a deeper kind of contentment. It's good just to walk with someone again - and conversation is certainly easier than it can be back where he came from. Is that bad? Is it disloyal, somehow? He wonders, worries, but in his heart, he doesn't think there's anything wrong with finding comfort where one can. Here, at the end of the worlds, or anywhere.

"So, you've been here a wee while, then. Seen much of the place, or kept central?"

"Kept central. Trouble courts me like a lover well enough, I try not to encourage it too much. Plus in arrivin' here I had to run from giant... monsters on the beach." And for a split second, a wholly mournful look appears on his face, eyes dropping to the ground before he resolves to pick himself up quickly in the face of this stranger.

"People here are nice. Lil uptight, most of 'em but. Someone saw me runnin' headlong into the forest to save my mule and chased after me to help. Woulda gone alone. Might not be here if not for them so. Good folk, even for foolish dandies like me." His eyes rake over Tamhas again, deciding that he's a good sort.

"You'll find a place easy, I bet."

"That so?" He huffs a laugh. Seems Seamus has a penchant for trouble, and he has a penchant for trying to get folk out of it. "I'll keep that in mind. See if I can't help, if your suitor gets a bit frisky." He catches that mournful look but, unsure what to make of it and not wanting to dredge up potential bad memories for Seamus, pretends he noticed nothing at all.

"I'm not bad at finding my feet, usually. There do seem to be a core of good people here... makes it easier. And a situation like this..." he waves his hands vaguely in front of himself. "Suppose it can bring folk together. Small mercies."

"Well now! That's mighty kind of you!" Seamus offers with a bleat of delighted laughter. "Normally I'd get a Seamus don't you dare try that! when whatever that was was just what was needed, or maybe a hey Shimmer, wait!. Stuff like that." He waves his hand lightly in emphasis of his words, gaze finding Tamhas' with a sharp, playful grin.

"Could be worse though, I suppose. Good folk here make it bearable enough." If lonely, but like with talk of the beach, he takes himself well enough to keep from being a burden on his new acquaintance. Maybe friend? Friend would be nice.

He chuckles in turn, shrugging. "I find myself in trouble much too often to try admonishment. It'd be hypocritical," he says cheerfully, spreading his hands in brief, hapless acceptance. "But, I agree. Good folk make all the difference - wherever you end up, I think."

He walks in silence briefly, taking in their surroundings again, before he glances over to his companion once more. A man who definitely wouldn't have looked out of place back home, and the name fits, but that voice and those clothes are something else entirely.

"So... what have you found yourself doing around here? Is it very different from home? If you don't mind questions, I mean."

"Then we shall find and defeat trouble side by side. For long as you please, at least." He adds with a tilt of his hat by fair, freckled fingers. "Good folk make most any problem more bearable. Can't always help but... sometimes just knowin' someone gives a damn helps." He speaks from experience. Just having Brambles and Grampy to believe in him, and then meeting Yoro and Leo and Soft... it's helped to bolster his confidence in himself. To trust in his gut more easily.

They walk pleasantly for a bit, despite the bleak scenery, but he glances up at the question, tilting his head.

"This place feels like a land in the middle of becomin' a Deadland. Everythin' feels... wrong. The place where I was was like this but... folk here are nicer."

The dark, menacing eyes of the sheriff, looking at him like he was trash when he tried to talk to him. The sneers of his posse and the guarded eyes of the priests at the chapel.

"Coffin Rock wasn't really that pleasant, but it was a steppin' stone. Is a steppin' stone."

Just as long as I please? Tamhas thinks, but he keeps the words to himself, appreciating the sentiment even if he can't help but wonder. He nods his agreement, though something else sticks in his mind. Is Seamus unused to feeling like people give a damn? Maybe he's reading too much into things, running on his own experiences - though it shames him to think on that too long - but, all he can do is speculate. The thought is pushed aside for now.

"A Deadland?" He's unfamiliar with the term, but it's evocative. He hums thoughtfully, giving another little nod. "I ken not the name, but... 'Deadland' definitely sounds like a decent title for a place such as this." He glances over at the other, offering him a wan smile. "Funny how often stepping stones aren't really pleasant, isn't it?"

"A Deadland ain't pretty." He agrees softly, wrapping his arms loosely about himself, only to let them drop to his sides a moment later. "It's... a full blown nightmare landscape you don't ever wanna see. Heard tell about it before, but never been too close." He shuddered as he looked up at the other man. "Monsters n' varmints run rampant, rocks start to look like skulls, and people start to hear their name on the wind but... the dead who you remember fondly are the ones callin' to you."

Seamus looks out with large eyes, letting out a shuddering sigh at the thought of such a thing. "Ain't heard anyone whisperin' my name at least, or any skull rocks, so I figure it ain't a total hell on earth yet." His glance shifted up, sheepish. "Sorry. You're right though, but. We get through it! And the town's good. Helps a lot to have some sense of community.

"Doesn't sound pretty," Tamhas says, frowning, though he's quiet as Seamus describes it, that furrow in his brow deepening at the thought. The idea of hearing the lost dead... He suppresses a shudder, himself, even as some small part of him can't help but think it would be good, to hear his voice one more time. That only leaves him more disquieted by the notion, and he shifts uncomfortably, almost trying to shrug off the thought.

He hazards a smile, just a little wan. "No need to apologise. Better I hear about these things - means if I ever have the misfortune of seeing it I at least have some idea of what's going on, right? More than I usually have anyway."

"Right you are! Better armed we are with what we can get, the better of a chance we have of fightin' it or, worse to worse, gettin' folk to safety." He likes to pretend that he was always out for number one, but... that's never been true. He's always been a bleeding heart for others, and even now the idea of helping cheers him up a little through all this gloom.

"You're pretty smart, Tamhas." His eyes linger over the sword again. It looks heavy. How could someone, even with muscles on muscles like him, use it?

"Agreed," he says, lifting his hand and tipping it as though he's holding a beverage with which to drink to that. But at the compliment his eyebrows raise, a bewildered smile on his face. "Me? Gods, that's a new one." The words come with a disbelieving, but good-natured laugh. He winks. "Keep it to yourself, aye? Can't have folk expecting great things, or anything."

"The moment you let on that you're talented in somethin' is the moment you get swarmed for it. Don't do work for free, well... maybe a little work. If it helps folks, I suppose. But me? I get paid for my work." A thousand dollars to find a man and deliver a letter? Hell yes.

Granted it hasn't been working out that way and now he's here, putting all of that in jeopardy, but he bats it away like a fly as he looks up at the other, winking back with a delighted peal of laughter.

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