Aeryn has a three day ride to meet with her group. She's taken some time to herself, to track down a lead, but it's time to move on and reconnect with her fellow adventurers. And, truth be told, Aeryn doesn't immediately respond at "elf woman" because no one in their right mind would call her --
But she slows, intending to stop for the night at this inn, and she realizes that Taryon is, indeed, talking to her. Aeryn's eyes scan him quickly, taking him in for what he is (a noble on a stupid adventure; she was that way, once) before letting her eyes take in her surroundings . . . which is how she sees Doty.
"What in the Nine Hells is that?" Aeryn asks warily, unhooking her staff from the side of her horse, her eyes not leaving the . . . bizarre mechanical construct that is Doty. Completely, as it were, ignoring Taryon's question.
"That's Doty," says Taryon; he's pretty used to this reaction by this point, the way people in backwater towns react to the construct. "Doty," he calls over his shoulder. "Say hello."
A creak of metal as Doty lifts one big metal fist and the fingers loosen into an open palm, before he waves stiffy.
"Very good. Doty, do resume taking down the elf woman's information." When she gives it to them. Which will be soon, right? Of course. He offered her an entire silver, after all.
Aeryn knows magic; Aeryn is magic. There is nothing else in her life that she understands more intimately than the arcane. Whatever Doty is . . . there's some aspect of the arcane there, somewhere, but by and large, this is something . . . new.
Still, she loosens her hold on the staff. She doesn't look like she's going to blast it into oblivion, but --
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Doty," Aeryn repeats dryly, and she urges her horse forward the few steps more toward the stable, sliding off of the beast with one smooth motion, taking her staff with her. "Tell the human idiot to learn how to ask for name and title before he addresses me."
Not that Aeryn uses her title, anymore. It's a dead thing, now. But it's helpful, when addressing other noble folk, to remind them of their place.
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I'M ASCENDING
Date: 2018-04-22 01:03 pm (UTC)But she slows, intending to stop for the night at this inn, and she realizes that Taryon is, indeed, talking to her. Aeryn's eyes scan him quickly, taking him in for what he is (a noble on a stupid adventure; she was that way, once) before letting her eyes take in her surroundings . . . which is how she sees Doty.
"What in the Nine Hells is that?" Aeryn asks warily, unhooking her staff from the side of her horse, her eyes not leaving the . . . bizarre mechanical construct that is Doty. Completely, as it were, ignoring Taryon's question.
(no subject)
Date: 2018-04-22 09:05 pm (UTC)A creak of metal as Doty lifts one big metal fist and the fingers loosen into an open palm, before he waves stiffy.
"Very good. Doty, do resume taking down the elf woman's information." When she gives it to them. Which will be soon, right? Of course. He offered her an entire silver, after all.
(no subject)
Date: 2018-04-22 11:23 pm (UTC)Still, she loosens her hold on the staff. She doesn't look like she's going to blast it into oblivion, but --
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Doty," Aeryn repeats dryly, and she urges her horse forward the few steps more toward the stable, sliding off of the beast with one smooth motion, taking her staff with her. "Tell the human idiot to learn how to ask for name and title before he addresses me."
Not that Aeryn uses her title, anymore. It's a dead thing, now. But it's helpful, when addressing other noble folk, to remind them of their place.