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She stepped through the Asura Gate from the ruins under reconstruction that used to be Lion's Arch. Heaving a relieved sigh, pleased to be out of the relentless moist heat, she wiped her forehead with the back of her gloved left hand and looked around. The sunglasses bathed the place in a tint of sepia, but she knew it was not the most colourful place with or without them. Although a norn might seem terribly out of place in a place like this, she felt right at home. Stepping over the edges of the enormous cogs making up the street, she made her way straight to the Gladium Canton without hesitation. This was by no means her first visit to the Black Citadel, nor was it likely to be the last. The leather creaked as the straps of her bulging backpack cut into her shoulders - she made a mental note to make broader and more comfortable straps whenever she had the chance - since her load was heavy.

A thud followed by a high-pitched squeak and a deep rumbling voice growling out a string of curses told her she was certainly in the right place. She slipped her backpack off and dropped it by her feet, causing a rather indiscreet clanking noise. After rolling her shoulders to loosen them up, the blonde pushed the sunglasses up onto her bandana-covered head and took in the scene before her.
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Posted Jun 25, 14 · OP
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Deep within the bowels of the Gladium Canton, where the air is thick and the walls are a collage of metals and materials that have seen better days. Like a sunken ship, new and strange life seems to cling to rusted artefacts. On this particular day there was a haze lingering, trapped below the ceiling, unable to escape. Yet there is a sense of tropical style here, colourful ornaments litter the room. Torn pirate clothes dangling along a line. A rather fancy half-cocunut cup with a straw dress and umbrella. It all seems rather haphazardly placed, as if this occupant of this particular part of the canton is a new arrival. Less tropical and fanciful is the wretched stench of terrible machinery and toxic chemicals coming from inside the doorway. To top it off, it's coupled with a half-delirious gravelly voice. It doesn't seem to make much sense until a rapturous statement bellows out.

"More o' tha' human seed!"

A few quiet seconds pass until an enormous explosion rings out around the depths of the canton! Kerr-bang! With it comes a cloud of smoke, several pots and pans with a collection of spinning cogs and springs. You could lose an eye in an environment like this. Some surely do. But anyway, these projectiles all fly out from the doorway with such incredible speed, flying right past the arriving norn. Clanging and thumping their way to the floor.

The quiet pitter-patter of tiny feet scampers out from the deluge of thick smoke. Surely no asura with their enormously over-sized brains could turn the depths of the canton into such a wreck? Of course not, that would be plain silly. No, instead this creature comes with a squeak and curious sniffing. A peculiar creature. Not charr, too small for charr. It could only be a skritt.

The little scamp stumbles out from the smoke, its hair blackened with ash. It lifts off its goggles to reveal a clean set of dazed eyes. It coughs, wheezes then squeaks! A face full of ratty verminy delightfulness peers up at the sight of the most bad-ass looking norn east of the Shiverpeaks.
Skritt lover · Yuvan · Bjarni of the Bear's Nose · The Shiny Spoon · The Magpie Mercenaries · The Tyrian Tease · yaghern.1089
Posted Jun 25, 14 · Last edited Jun 28, 14
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Poking her ear with a finger and opening her mouth wide to un pop her ringing ears after the blast, the nornesse waves with her free hand at the furry little creature. Or maybe she's just waving some of the smoke out of her face. At this point, it's a bit hard to tell.

"Are you alright there, Chokkak?" she asks, coughing lightly. Maybe she should have put the gas mask on before she came down here, wise from previous incidents. Then again, life is too short to go around being careful all the time. Unless you avoid being careful at the very wrong time, in which case life will, of course, be even shorter. And either way, she didn't wear it, so the point is moot. As that thought fades into oblivion it dawns on her what, precisely, it was she'd heard before the bang. With a slight shake of her head, she steps into the doorway to lean a shoulder against the doorpost, peering into the billowing smoke.

"Sorry, you old rug, I didn't bring any human seed. I got you as much iron as I could carry, though, and there's more where that came from!" she calls out, then looks back to the skritt, somewhat concerned. A rather sarcastic voice in the back of her head comments that she could probably have all the requested goods she'd ever want where that iron came from, but is quickly silenced by a sharp retort from a more reasonable part of her brain with the words "How about none, then!"
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Posted Jun 25, 14 · OP
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Posted Jun 25, 14 · OP
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"Golden head hair!
Chokkak remembers!
Big job furry-tails' lady-tail from old times."

Chokkak splutters, coughing up ash and fur. He scratches his head with his claws, looking very irritable, nonchalontely flicking a flea from his ear. All in all, you would imagine the flea would be rather pleased. Even a pest such as a flea has certain standards. The skritt twitches then blinks at the norn, turning his head to the side and then launches into a very audible tirade.

"Bad days.
Bad days.
Master paws no work!
Brain no work!
Pssh pshhh."

Chokkak pauses, peering at the bad-ass looking norn.

"But you talls!
Must eat lots of golden treasure!
Gold good for talls.
In books, it is!
Big brains and bottoms!"

The skritt simmers down, lowering its voice to chew Ronja's ear in desperation. He frets for a moment, peering back into the laboratory at the depths of the Gladium Canton. It seems to have gotten no reaction from the boss. The skritt starts jabbering again before Ronja has a chance to answer.

"Quiet quiet.
You no hear from Chokkak."

There is a slight pause before a enormous eruption from inside the laboratory.

"I heard that, flea-brain!"

A second later out comes a crumpled half-burnt piece of machinery, flying through the air like the items before it. An expert with a half a second to inspect such a device would recommend that it was some sort of pressure cooker. Anyone else should forego this inspection and instead just jump right out of the way of it.
Skritt lover · Yuvan · Bjarni of the Bear's Nose · The Shiny Spoon · The Magpie Mercenaries · The Tyrian Tease · yaghern.1089
Posted Jun 28, 14 · Last edited Jun 28, 14
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As there appeared to be no reaction from inside, she turned more fully to the bedraggled skritt. Smiling sympathetically, she listened to his rant. As he paused, she tried to edge a word in sideways to ask whose brain didn't work, Chokkak's or his master's, but the space was too narrow, and the opportunity was lost. She didn't mind too much, though, as the words closing the gap were quite the compliment. For a norn just barely reaching further above the ground than the most impressively sized human male, and who, of course, has had that fact shoved down her throat in nearly every norn company she's had in her life, it's a rather nice thing to be called tall. Even if the one saying it happens to be a mangy, fur coughing skritt.

Knowing how actions speak louder than words - and also don't necessarily need to be fitted into tiny spaces in upset tirades - she leans over towards her oversized backpack to start unstrapping a smaller bag from its side. The leather of her corset complains about the compression with a disgruntled creaking. As the skittish critter turns his beady little eyes towards the visually impenetrable interior and hushes his speech, she nods conspiratorially, as if to say "Don't worry, your secret is safe with me."

In the slight pause thereafter, she opens the buckle holding the bag together and reaches into the interior to fish around for something. Her preoccupation with this task leaves her inattentive to the large projectile, and thus she fails to get out of its way. On account of her bent over position, the crumpled former pressure cooker hits her square on her shapely and (fortunately in this case) far from bony bottom, taking her with it on its now rather slowed trajectory.

As she plants her face firmly in the side of the bag she was holding, roughly at the same time as it hits the ground, the item she was fishing out weasels its way out of her hand and flies off in a wide arc. It turns out to be a rather generous triangle of cheese, sending off a whiff of scent reminiscent of unwashed socks dipped in whiskey.

Her only current vocal addition to the current conversation is an "Oof," muffled by the bag.
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Posted Jun 28, 14 · OP
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A moment passes, the scene is almost serene in its nature as the dust settles and the senses regain their composure. You begin to once again hear the deep noises of the Gladium canton, which is a much less frantic and terrifying thing as a flying cooker and incidently, much less distracting that a pair of large norn buttocks.

Luckily, it would seem there is peace at last. Yet further luck is bestowed upon our upturned norn as the gracious host in these depths of the Gladium canton seems to have lost its appliance-throwing rage and is now peering past the doorway with no eyes. There, with a hunched back is a ash ridden charr, its fur appears to mirror the state of squalor down here, in the depths. More interestingly, it's missing an eye, and covering the other with a very pirate-looking eye-patch, there's even a Lion's Arch hula girl holding two very large jugs imprinted on the leather. The only thing this tells you about our host is that he cannot see. Instead, he seems to be making extraordinary use of his nose.

The triangle of cheese still sits on the floor, the scent reminiscent of unwashed socks dipped in whiskey seems almost visible, and like a vacuum the charr is siphoning that smell right up his large pulsating nostrils. It's probably not a very pleasant sight to see, such enlarged nostrils, you can see right up those two furry canals. But it does indicate just how much a charr who is about to proceed into an unadulterated cheese bender can be monstrously warped.

"The most goldenest golden blue, I smell! It's mine!"

The charr suddenly bounds across the room, his old hind legs stretch purposefully for what looks to be the first time in their aging history. His tongue hangs from his jaw, almost salivating at the prospect of unwashed socks dipped in whiskey. It is at this point that we should remember there's a large-buttocked norn on the floor, which makes the route to the cheese a most treacherous assault course for a visionless charr.
Skritt lover · Yuvan · Bjarni of the Bear's Nose · The Shiny Spoon · The Magpie Mercenaries · The Tyrian Tease · yaghern.1089
Posted Jul 11, 14
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As the dust settles, the norn begins to scramble to her feet. Padded though it may be, her rear did take quite a beating and she rubs it slowly through the leather skirt, as if to assure herself it's still there and hasn't caved in, or whatever shenanigans a bashed butt might get up to to recoil from such impact. She turns to the skritt and speaks:

"So, Chokkak, I brought you some..." while talking, she notes Chokkak's expression turn from whiskers trembling in anticipation to his beady little eyes widening and his whole little frame shrinking back slightly at the sight of his "employer" appearing in the doorway. Ronja follows his gaze, but too late does she realize what is about to happen and her sentence just ends with "No-no-no-no...!" just before it is cut off by the onslaught of a hungry, blind charr ramming right into her.

It takes no genius to see the opportunity presenting itself here. On the ground lies the stinky golden treasure, illuminated by a ray of light from above. Rapidly closing in on the ground, well out of reach of it is a bundle of arms, legs, fur, soot and a hurting butt. And there, all in the clear is Chokkak with a clear line of sight to the treasure.
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Posted Jul 11, 14 · OP
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Chokkak sees his opportunity and like the rat that he is, jumps at his chance. He delivers it with pride and a enormous slurpy wet lick of the golden treasure just to spite his master. It is truly a decision of disobedience, something he would probably not try unless Ronja was near. He reasons that Ronja must protect him if this gets ugly. She better!

"My shiny!
Treasure! Treasure!
Chokkak king now!"

Chokkak gobbles down the cheese, dancing like a crazed critter who has just discovered his precious, much to the displeasure of the soot-ridden charr who creaks to his feet, untangling himself from Ronja. He finally relieves himself of his misplaced eyepatch and squints at the dancing skritt.

"Cough it up, flea-brain!"

Completely forgetting about the badass norn, Smoky bounds over to the delirious skritt and roughly grabs him by the muzzle, launching into an investigation of his mouth for any remnants of the cheese. Chokkak wriggles free and begins to dance once more in protest, peering past the charr at the norn.
Skritt lover · Yuvan · Bjarni of the Bear's Nose · The Shiny Spoon · The Magpie Mercenaries · The Tyrian Tease · yaghern.1089
Posted Aug 19, 14 · Last edited Aug 19, 14
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The ruffled blonde mutters a disgruntled "Bear's rear!" as she gets to her feet and brushes some of the dust and soot off (though really, most of it is just getting smeared out). She turns to the charr and aims a swift boot for his nearest shin - the right one, as it happens - to get his attention.

Hey!
Hey!

She glowers at the larger of the two fur balls as she rubs her sore rear where a large bruise is forming under the leather. Moving her hand to her hip and raising her other hand to shake a warning index finger at Smoky, she berates him in a tone much like an aggravated mother might use to a particularly disobedient child, part scolding, part threat:

"Leave Chokkak alone, you big sourpuss! He only took what was his, and if you're not nice to him, I will keep what I brought YOU to myself."

Not waiting for a response, she finishes with a sharp

"Now behave!"

in a tone that suggests she will accept no nonsense. Ain't nobody got time for that.
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Posted Aug 19, 14 · OP
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