Having plenty of time to counsel his mun...

[elderspeaksfirst]

Joor feim. Mortal things pass, both good and ill. Bide for a while, and some may yet return to you.

[He lowers his head a moment, thinking.]

You are often eager to hunt more than you can bear. Diin frini. You have enough left before you, and I… [a low chuckle] Zu dein drem. I am patient. I will have tinvaak with those who will speak, teach those who will listen, fly freely in the skies once more. That is more than enough to content me.

Comments

Not many men his age can pull off the "perpetually shirtless" look.

[moonandstar]

It is. Many centuries have passed since the time of Resdayn.

I'm hoping our next memories aren't...too unpleasant.

[Garyn's next experience of dragons will be beneficial, though indirect. The Prince of Plots in his gratitude shall grant him the yuvon yol zahkrii of ancient times, though she has not done so yet. Perhaps his mun will defy time for a moment and let Paarthurnax see it.]

True that. Heck, even skooma doesn't slow him down.

[elderspeaksfirst]

As do I. Krosis. I am not the only dovah who returns to the skies. Nor even the first. Hind tiid los aaz. I cannot say how mortalkind will judge what is to come.

[There's something curious - the glimpse of a familiar weapon, gifted to a champion long ago. Though lost to the hands of any kaalsedov, it's a little gratifying to find the work of his kind lingering yet, resurfacing in its own time. Paarthurnax lifts his head with a short 'hmh', a sound of pleased recognition.]

Though perhaps you will taste our power long before then. What is your name, motmahus gein?

I'm not certain if he REALLY uses it, to be honest. In my mind, it's part of his cover.

[moonandstar]

You mean to say that all of you will return?

[His tone suggests this almost isn't a question. He does not comment on the snippets of Draconic speech. He's not the sort to ask stupid questions.]

I am Garyn Balvadares. And what is your name, dragon?

Good point. I just assumed he'd have to down some now and then for the look of it

[elderspeaksfirst]

Fod wuldsetiid kreh. When the currents of time have turned. Then my zeymahhe may be woken once again.

[Will. Have. It is much the same, after all.]

I am Paarthurnax. Drem Yol Lok - greetings to you. Though I wonder, Garyn Balvadares: who are you, among your people?

If you talk to folks at the Cornerclub, they note that he holds his skooma better than a Khajiit.

[moonandstar]

Hmm...it will be an interesting day when that happens.

[Garyn has little else to say about this, except that it can't possibly be a good thing. He's not about to say that in front of an enormous dragon, though.]

For now? I am nobody. To my own people, I am less than that. A sellsword from Leyawiin, brought up from the gutter by a martinet with delusions of grandeur. My mundane has begun my story at an early point in my life.

It's one way to get a reputation...

[elderspeaksfirst]

Interesting. Yes. Kestsedez. A day of great peril... and suffering. But it is not a day without hope. Kogaan wah lein. I will be waiting to give what aid I can.

[Paarthurnax is well aware of what it means for mortalkind, and no compunctions about admitting it. Even with Alduin's defeat close on the heels of his return. Leaderless dovahhe are still very far from harmless.]

The better to understand your path, hm? Onikaan. A fair method. But I am ill-informed of a great deal these days. Including Leyawiin. [His pronunciation of the name is a bit odd, perhaps, having last heard it in a bygone age and accent.] What path does a sellsword take upon those streets?

Re: It's one way to get a reputation...

[moonandstar]

Yes? Aid to whom?

[Garyn sighs at this.]

A steady one, though not as exciting as you might think, even in the southeastern marches. Caravan escort work more than anything else. Makes you look forward to the odd bandit camp or vampire hunt. Though lately, work has gotten more...unsavory.

[elderspeaksfirst]

There is one coming with the power to save Vus, our world from destruction. That is who I await, upon the Throat of the World.

[The dragon may never have been a mercenary himself, but in some ways all service is much the same.]

Kendov nis uth thuri... The warrior cannot guarantee his master's honor, hm?

[moonandstar]

Some sort of prophecy, eh? Wouldn't know anything about that.

[Garyn grunts].

True enough. Ideally, I'd find a new master, but...well. I'm not certain what I'll do. The mer who adopted me is dead now.