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"Hm..." Orazi has been zoning out at the current topic when he finally noticed the gladiator staring at him. Well, he had no idea what was up, but it sounded more interesting than Tambourin's family call. He mosied on over and waved to the gladiator. "Are you here for the games? You certainly look the sort."
As the gang walked through the town and subsequently into the building they reside in now, Orfo had been amazed and almost stunned. While may around hims saw Orfo as the outlier or uncommon one Orfo saw them the same way. "So many different kinds of people!?" Orfo whispered to himself as they waited for Tambourine. He didn't wanna seem rude by staring so he kept turning to look at other things every 3 seconds with the same open faced excitement. Unfortunately this had the added effect that his tail might end up hitting someone! Whether part of the party or just an unfortinate passerby!?
The mailmage doesn't seem to be putting in the effort to follow along with Tambourin's rapid explanation, which is probably why he rocks back in surprise when the gnome suddenly flashes two tiny pale buttocks at the scrying orb. A harried goblin mail clerk passing behind the counter does a double take as well, almost dropping an armful of letters.
Razmanna just listens patiently, tapping one clawed finger against his chin with a thoughtful expression. He closes his eyes for a moment when Tambourin is finished, then opens them and nods.
"I have passed this explanation on to Wizard Tabor, and I am receiving his reply. Please be patient; he is working with volatile substances."
The well-dressed tiger demon tilts his head slightly as if listening to something for a few moments, then chuckles.
"...First, he would like to remind you that public nudity is highly unseemly behavior, even if it may be expedient, and advises you to apologize to these city-folk that you have just exposed yourself to. He muses that he may add a remedial etiquette lesson to your schedule when you return."
Tabor is an academic at heart, and "remedial lessons" aren't uncommon when he feels his reckless nephew has demonstrated a lack of understanding of some sphere of knowledge or weakness of character. It goes without saying, of course, that they are perhaps fifty percent study, and fifty percent sore bottomed penance.
The minotaur's muscular chest rises and falls as he inhales and exhales slowly, staring at Orazi. He's silent for so long that it seems for a moment like he either didn't hear Orazi's question or doesn't speak the language... the line that he's in moves ahead in front of him, but the short bald human behind the minotaur doesn't have the nerve to cut.
Finally, the minotaur tilts his head to one side and speaks in a deep, resonant voice.
"You don't know me, but I recognize you. You're Wadi's brother, aren't you?"
Something about the minotaur's tone and posture radiates arrogance and imposing strength. It's partly just his size and muscles, but there's something else there... a touch of magic, or pheromones, or some influence in his pale red eyes that makes the hackles rise. Most people would respond to such influence with fear and submission, like that poor human who can't quite bring himself to cut past or tell the bullman to stop holding up the line; to the more aggressive sort of person, it feels like a challenge, goading you to push back.
"Huh?"
"Ow!"
"What the hell?!"
A dissonant chorus of yelps surrounds you as Orfo's tail flails into the crowds of people trying to get or send their mail. Most of them are confused as to the source, or just shoot the firbolg a dirty look as they try to get where they're going. But one man with shimmering purple flames instead of hair gets lashed in the thigh, and responds by reflexively grabbing Orfo's tail with one hand! He looks human, except for the hair, but his hand feels uncomfortably hot, and his grip is quite strong.
"Watch it, hick! You're gonna get your dumb ass in a fight if you keep that up."
"Oh goodness, of course! I made myself indecent in my hurry when I simply could have shown you a drawing I penned of the mark instead! What is this defaulting to exposure coming over me, lately?" Tambourin openly despaired, upon earning a perfectly avoidable caning on top of whatever else Tabor may soon consider for his penance. In a slight panic, he briefly turned his attention to whomever he suspected were unnecessarily flashed as ordered, and made very brief but very sincere apologies to each, with insistence he make up for any offence caused if required, though preferably after his call home was finished.
He scampered back to where the demon was displayed, hopefully only waiting for a minute or so, and asked, "So would you know if my mentor could find any relevant knowledge to share of our affliction, either during this call or whenever else he rightly deigns to investigate at his convenience?"
"OOOOWAAH!!!" Was the only discernable thing that came out of Orfo as his tail was pulled. He immediately fell to the ground and backed up with his rump I the air so his tail wasn't being pulled! Unknown to everyone in the room Orfo's tail was quite a sensitive thing, not responding well to hot temperatures. Orfo kept backing up essentially crawling on the ground trying to keep his tail out of anymore abuse. "P-please! I-I'm sorry I was just excited!" Although Orfo said this with a shaky voice it sounded more like he was about to cry then himself being embarrassed. Another unfortunate side effect however was with the position he was in his tail was pushing up a bit of his kilt and revealing his two blue beautiful mounds that were dusted lightly with black and brown hairs.
Razmanna watches Tambourin make his apologies with patient amusement, carefully straightening his cravat and collar. The mailmage weakly insists that it's fine, while the goblin just scowls and hurries off to continue his work. When Tambourin takes his seat again, the tiger nods.
"Wizard Tabor does not recognize the glyph at a glance, which is telling in itself. Were it from any of the major magical scripts, he would certainly know it. I can arrest personally that it comes from none of the languages of Hell, either."
"So then. Your uncle next wishes to know if you believe yourself to be in danger from your new companions and in need of rescue. I admit that he will likely be disappointed in your resourcefulness if this is the case, but I assure you, it is better to admit fault promptly."
Razmanna's voice is prim, but there's a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. As demons go, he's a decent enough sort... but things like "pity" and "mercy" aren't really part of his vocabulary.
The fire-haired man scowls down at Orfo. Now that he's stopped, everyone (well, everyone except Orfo himself, being face down on the floor) can see him more clearly. He's wearing a plain brown tunic and baggy shorts, made out of some kind of thick and possibly fireproof fabric. His skin is tan with the faintest hint of red to it and a few faded scars, and there's not a hair on his body; both his scalp and his eyebrows have bright purple flames instead, and a goatee made of the same flame ripples on his face. It's hard to guess his age, but there's a rough and grizzled quality to his face that makes him seem older. He's tall by human standards, which means he's a good foot shorter than Orfo, and covered in lean, corded muscle.
"Gods and demons, don't start bawling on me already... You must have come right out of the sticks, huh?"
The fiery man rolls his eyes, but lets go of Orfo's tail. He instead gives the firbolg a none too gentle kick in the furry buttcheeks; his feet are mostly bare except for some sort of bandage wrapped around his ankles and arches, and it feels like a shower of hot embers falling on his bottom along with the kick.
"Just get your ass up off the floor before some guard thinks I beat you up."
Last edited by Eurus; December 28th, 2022 at 02:13 AM.
"B-but you did!?" Orfo not so quietly pouts out. He then rubs his butt hoping that the kick didn't leave a mark! Orfo layed on the ground in the same position confused and a little frustrated. When your hit by the tail of a firbolg it just means there excited there's no reason to discipline them for it! A couple of moments passed as Orfo stayed in the same position just thinking and rubbing. Quietly hoping that some guard would walk I and whoop this bully!!
"A little love tap like that?! I'm being friendly, you doofus!"
Despite the fiery man's scowl, he sounds... sincere? Like he's genuinely offended that his kindhearted advice was taken poorly. With no apparent irony, he reaches down to brush up the hem of Orfo's kilt and grab the waistband of his underpants. His grip is unnaturally strong as he hoists up on the fabric; he's not quite strong enough to lift the firbolg completely off the ground, but it's certainly enough to raise his hips up and encourage him to stand!
"What, you want me to just let you lay there until someone trips over you or you get your ass beat for obstructing traffic? Sheesh, kid, you're a lost cause!"
"Eh... Yeah? What of it?" Orazi took a step back, though he wasn't sure why. Usually this kind of guy would be completely his type. He was well trained with dealing with fighters after all.
Orfo's eyes practically pop out of his skull as he's hoisted up. As the man lifted Orfo for a brief moment Orfo's clear underwear became slightly opaque at the spot where the man was grabbing. Orfo took the help and stood up, towering over the man.
Orfo had his ears drooped and his tail hung under his kilt now tucked away from the world. "I'm not a lost cause I just don't understand all this," Orfo still had a pouty tone but it was masked a bit with his genuine confusion of the situation. As Orfo looked at the man more he could see the age of the man a bit more and at this point he could actually see the face of the man and the fire that layed across his face. "YOUR FACE IS ON FIRE!" Orfo looked side to side trying to find water or dirt!
