Of Life and Limbs

"I certainly understand the aversion to being magically mentally manipulated, but we're kind of up against it here. . . Odds are not in our favor. Any advantage we have against the giants, we've got to employ, don't you think?

She patted his metal hand and smiled. "We've been careful so far, and you've only had a couple of minor incidents, but we handled it okay. So far, so good. Maybe Dragomir can make you some sort of magic item to help you resist the urge to go charging after our enemy before we're all ready? Either way, it seems to me that it has been well worth the price thus far, and it is removable if such a thing becomes necessary.

"Now if that hand forced you to turn on us rather than giants? Well, that would be an entirely different story!" Saoirse winced. "And it would be a shorter one, since the rest of us might be dead already. . ."

"Aye... yer right, on a couple of things," he said with a chuckle. "Ye've all stopped me in my tracks before... but I think it did take ye all! I hate the thought of what would happen if I'd turned against y'all.

"No... in the grand scheme I can't say using the hand was the wrong choice. It's a very useful tool... but every time I find myself taking it off I get to look at my stump. That ain't a good feeling. Hopefully when we get through this, fighting giants will be rare enough that I can just leave the thing on for good!

"Go kill some orcs or something... they should be fun."

"You know. . .we could see about getting you some accessories for that stump," Saoirse suggested. "A chain flail? No. . . You'd end up with a concussion if you had to scratch your nose. A dagger? Maybe a nice two headed axe to give you some additional battle options? A hook is far too pedestrian for a Slayer of the Storm Tyrant."

The tiefling briefly eyed her left hand as well, considering if there was something slightly more advantageous that she could attach there.

"Hehehe... maybe the axe... or a drinkin' mug... maybe some kind of super ghost hand that springs out. and grabs stuff??" Dulgar looked around and grinned. "With magic, anything's possible I suppose...

"Though frankly any kind of 'accessory' would have to be a really limited use... If I'm NOT fighting... I need to wearing the Steelhand. If it ever got stolen in a tavern or something... that would make me physically ill. If I AM fightin' it gives too many advantages to NOT wear.... So that thin little window of 'Fighting but not too MUCH fighting' is when I'd consider an extra thing like that..."

"A mug-hand would have quite a few uses! Drinking of course, but also great in a bar fight, digging small holes, eating soup. . .even for sitting at the city gate and begging for change if times get lean," she joked. "Nothing wrong for looking for the occasional upgrade or body modification. It's been awhile since my last piercing. Well. . .intentional piercing that didn't involve giant or orc weapons."

Dulgar looked at the piercings, at least the ones he could see. This wasn't a practice that was common amongst dwarves. It was usually seen as s more primitive thing amongst barbarians or battleragers. Not something he ever considered. Though he supposed that cutting off his own hand still put him ahead on the self-mutilation chart.

"What's those about anyway?" the dwarf asked bluntly. "They just your way of knowing yer alive.... or do they tell some story? The gold thread had one... how about the rings? Some famous battle or life ye saved or something?"

"Nah, nothing so grandiose. I only started collecting them over the last few years. You'd think the city of Vigil is made up entirely of straight-laced crusaders. Not entirely true," she smirked.

"I'm flirting with the idea of suspension piercings but I can't do them myself without risking misplacement, and if the rings tear right out of my back while hanging, then where's the fun in that? Pain is over way too quickly. . . So I'm putting a pin in that idea for now." Saoirse barked out a laugh at her pun. "But you don't seem the type too interested in the psychology behind body modification and frankly, I don't want to explore my own predilections so closely," she admitted. "I may not like what I find there."

Reaching over, she rapped on his metal hand. "As you your own modification, you know, there is magic that will regrow lost limbs. Such power is beyond my ability at the moment but in these past weeks I have tapped into potential that I didn't realize was possible. If it were to become possible, and after all of this is dealt with, would you be interested? Maybe you would wish to return the hand to its rightful owner."

"Hmmm...," the dwarf pondered for a moment. "I hadn't really thought about it before. I suppose if I flat out died and got myself a resurrection then I'd have me hand back... but something a bit more realistic? I suppose it's possible.

He shook his head. "I'm leaning towards no though. There's two powerful dwarven philosophies dealing with the dead. One is that a dwarf hero should be buried with all their finery and treasure and honor that they can... It's a popular one, but I never agreed with it. The second, my personal belief, is that weapons are made for using. His armor, his weapons, even the hand, are better being used than they are molding away in a dark hole. I don't think Nargrym would want this stuff just keeping his bones company if it meant kin or kind dying when they didn't need to.

"So... no. I don't see me returning the hand to his tomb. I'll keep using it to help others as long as I can... and hopefully whoever gets it next will do the same."

His eyebrows came together as he considered something else. "I suppose I'd stop wearing it and try to get me hand back if it ever became more of a 'curse' than a boon. Should the dwarves and giants ever form a lasting peace and welcome them into our homes... and I have to worry about slaughtering them on the street... Something like that would be more trouble than it's worth...

"But I don't see that being very likely."

"No," Saoirse agreed, with what sounded quite a lot like melancholy.  "Not likely at all."

Peace wasn't something that was known in the greater Mindspin area, even less so in the Hold of Belkzen.  Between the orcs, giants and creatures that saw humanoids as lunch, it wasn't even something for which one hoped.  The people of Trunau learned to live in the midst of the threat of death and had accepted it as simply a part of life, but thoughts of tombs and bones and death never sat well with the tiefling.  A difficult predicament when one finds oneself daily immersed in such dread realities.

For all of her mothers' wisdom, they'd never bothered discussing what might happen to the mortal soul after death.  They themselves were immortal after all so such worries hardly applied.  Saoirse however, worried.  During an ill-advised reading with a Varisian fortune teller whose caravan had been passing through Vigil, she was informed she had no aura.  No aura?  To this day she still didn't know what that blasted crone meant, but the look of bewilderment and fear in the old woman's face was enough to cause uncomfortable questions to bubble to the surface of her mind.

Were there long reaching consequences due to the Norns severing her fate?  Would she be relegated to some dark plane of existence when she met her end, or would she simply cease to be?  Or worse. . .would her soul, like Adenedhel's, be trapped in some poor, unsuspecting person's mind, spoiling any hope at a normal life?

Nope, she wasn't keen to dwell on such questions.  Saoirse instead chose to focus on keeping herself and her compatriots alive for as long as possible -- for as long as they were under her self-appointed charge.

"Then I guess you'll just have to learn to live with that limb.  It's hardly Nargrym's now anyway I suppose, as you've made it a part of yourself.  Literally and figuratively," she smirked.  "Or maybe. . . the hand has made you a part of it."