You'll be hearing about me, I'm certain - 9/26

Maertock would tap his chin thoughtfully as he emerged from the nearby river dripping with water, the shark fishman clutching what appeared to be a cheap, nigh flimsy steel rod in place of a sword arm.

The Captain would glance over Aerilion for a time as he emerged, the fishman giant clearly the thoughtful sort. Nodding steadily, he'd gesture idly to the man with a thoughtful tap of his chin.

"Now, my crew's heard of the tribes. We've heard of the cities and their squabbles. But I can't....quite place what you are, friend. You're different."

Maertock would extend a large, webbed, and very wet hand.

"Maertock Reave. You can call me Captain."
(Maertock Reave)
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A thin strip of crystal pulling free the pulsating core of a river Daemon, there's a moment of hesitation in the aged Teraphim's eye as the Sirennian approaches, one that holds the crystalline structure in place just a second longer than normal- almost a threat, but with the plausible deniability to discard. As the stranger speaks and his intents are clear, that's exactly what he does, the glittering shards of magic evaporating into nothing.

"Hm. The sea-people, is it?"

His eye holds on the man, taking him in. Then a dainty hand presses outwards to shake, coated in a thin layer of bark to hold back the dampness.

"I suppose your kind would not have known us, as ours did not know yours. Aerilon Tsuchai, of the Teraphim. Of the last Teraphim."

He gives a short nod of respect.

"A pleasure."
(Aerilon Tsuchai)
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 Maertock would cross his massive arms over his broad chest, the muscle of the sharkman as obvious as his rows of jagged teeth. Yet, he appeared the amiable sort with his flash of a toothy grin, taking an idle dreg from his bottle of rum as he nodded thoughtfully to the Terraphim.

"If we're going by technicality, I'm a Merman by my father's parentage, though my mother was a Kerdanhel gypsy of likely Anguill breed. The deep...is a fascinating microcosm of the divine."

The fishman would chuckle darkly at that, tapping his rod over his broad shoulder as he glanced over the elf.

"It is nice to meet you, the last of the Terraphim. What....is a Terraphim?"
(Maertock Reave)
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There's a scrutinizing eye that follows the giant's actions, not one of suspicion, but of an intense curiosity. The bark on his manicured hand falls away as soon as the handshake is over, withdrawn away.

"Hm, I must say, I have lived for all of a century and in that time I have encountered scarcely a third of those terms. I suppose I must agree that the sea is fascinating, if such complicated peoples stem from it."

There's a distinct downward tug at the corners of his mouth as the question of what he is bubbles to the surface again. Not a frown, but close.

"Hm, unfortunately not the last, I have learnt as of late. Yet not one of many, either"

His mouth is tugged slightly further down, a moment of silence filling the air as his mind is tugged away by the thought of it.

"As for what we were? You would get quite a different answer depending on who it was you asked, most here in Esshar are rather sore losers- and they certainly lost much to us. I would call us children of the spirits, blessed by the primordial of order and intertwined deeply with the spirits of the land, to hear their song and call them to our aid. Esshar's finest, perhaps."
(Aerilon Tsuchai)
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Maertock would click his teeth together slowly as he mulled over the elf's words, his jagged nails beginning to itch at his dried gills as he hummed to himself with a sudden spark of amusement.

"The sea is vast and all encompassing. It is a giver of life, and a taker of life. This is the way of the deep, though Atlantis proper is a far less romantic ideal. Hustle and bustle, sure, but the caste system's practically slavery."

The fishman would spit a glob out at that with a hum, his Herculean physique finally beginning to properly dry in the aid of the warm sun.

"Children of the spirits, huh? So you some kind of realm walker? Been to the other side or something? And what do you mean by spirit of the land?"

Maertock would pause for a moment.

"What would the..."sore losers" say about the Terraphim?"
(Maertock Reave)
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 The elf's head tilts to the side, absorbing the new information with a pointed curiosity.

"A philosophy I have heard, even from those confined to the shores, one of balance that I can scarcely disagree with. A city of slavery, however, seems at odds with such a thing- there is no give and take in that."

Eye following the trail of bodily fluid launched from the large, wet man, he gives off a soft 'hm' as it dissipates into the dry earth.

"I would suppose.. 'realm walker' is appropriate, I have walked in the world of the spirits and the dead, and I have presided over and tended to the hallowed grove that physically links this world to that. That is.. much like you are kin of the sea, born to an impenetrable realm for those like me- such is the case for the Spirit world, a land of the incorporeal linked to our own, but just below the surface, for most."

There's a nagging tug to say more, but he refrains,simply taking an idle step back from the riverbank.

"The spirits of the land are like all spirits, living spectral reflections of the natural world. Just as a human has a spirit that will live on after the flesh fails, so too does the mountains, the trees, the rivers. The souls of the earth itself."

The final question makes his lips upturn into something of a smirk, an act made even slightly malicious by the glint of sunlight through his Onyx eye.

"Demons, slaughters, to those of Osrona old enough to remember us as we tore down their thrones, reduced their nobility to dust. Patronizing liberators, perhaps, to those young enough to only remember us liberating their city once more, handing it back to those who would live within the ruins. Primitives, to those of the barsburg empire, who remember the forests rallied to war, the viscious wraiths pulled from their hiding spots and their songs attuned to our own."

There's a short shrug, as if dismissive.

"Those sorest of all about their loss call us nothing, so quick they are to forget us, as we chose to leave the cruelty and jagged edges of this world behind, to be one with the next."
(Aerilon Tsuchai)
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 Maertock would steadily click his teeth together as for a time he considered the response of the elven elder, leaning his makeshift melee weapon with a sense of nakedness far more felt than his lack of a shirt. He'd lost his trident in the storm, and without it he was a toothless shark.

"Well, slavery in a means of tradition I suppose. And in a literal sense, for going against it makes one a pariah and cast out. As my mother was, though she found a patron more than worthy of her attention."

The shark fishman would flash his jagged rows of teeth at that with another dark chuckle. His piercing blue eyes seemed almost to blacken like a great white's at that.

"You've been to the other side then, the spirit realm? Any place with water over there, and perchance is there a way to get a pirate ship there through whacky rituals. Asking for a friend."

Maertock would nod lightly at that, balling his webbed fist with a hum.

"Ah, Sirenians possess a bond to the sea in a more literal sense. Our water spirit bonds to us in our youth, and through symbiosis we grow stronger together as one entity. Mine is an elusive sort, prefers to stalk and hunt. But as a great white shark, his manifestation would have usually compelled me to naval work in Atlantis."

The fishman would sigh lightly at that.

"So not a fan of Acyhon and Osrona then? Figures why you're with the tribes. Though, you could'a left with your pals, why'd you stay behind?"
(Maertock Reave)
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"Hm"

For his part, the Teraphim simply stands unnaturally still, single eye laser focusing on different elements of the interaction, lingering only long enough to take stock of the minutia of the man.

"Thus always to tyrants, I suppose. Those cast out low rise righteous, and stand higher. I would assume our approach is far more difficult to apply for your homeland, however. After all, to shunt an unjust city into the sea when it already resides there, is rather an issue."

His eye just narrows at the strange question, taking a long moment to gauge its sincerity. To no avail, it seemed, given the accompanying shrug.

"Hm, did not see an ocean, but there is water. To raid the lands of the dead by sea would be.. perhaps equal parts unwise, and fascinatingly unprecedented. If your bond with the spirits is anything like those my kin cultivated- well, perhaps a ship is unneeded, when you carry beasts of the sea with your every move through their domain. Particularly the more predatory ones."

The thought tugs the corner of his mouth upwards just a touch, although whether it's the absurdity of the idea, or the insane genius of it, is beyond even him.

It's gone as quickly as staying behind is uttered.

"This world was too cruel, too hard, too jagged for our fledgling people. It made us those things, needed us to be those things to survive. When they chose to.. become more, carve out their-our- own terms for living- We.. There were duties we held, things that we were beholden to. If to maintain them means I will not see my kin until my spirit slips free from the flesh, best I that be burdened with it, than any others. I have lived a long life, one that has many regrets, to claim their peace as my own felt irresponsible."
(Aerilon Tsuchai)
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 Maertock would lightly click his teeth together as he tapped his chin with a light and final hum, considering the old elf's words for a time as he tapped his broad chin with consideration.

"Atlantis is not all bad. It is a love and hate circumstance, a home I prefer to rarely ever sea so I may keep it as an ideal of resentment. If I met and liked too many parts about it, I couldn't maintain my determined spite for its ways."

The captain would nod firmly at that.

"This was an interesting chat Terraphim. I am Captain Maertock Reave of the Deep Company, my ship is anchored on the south coast. You'll be hearing about me, I'm certain."

The pirate would chuckle lightly as he turned to depart, waving over his shoulder genially as the giant made his way back to his crew. It had not been an unpleasant chat, after all.

"Two cities ripe for plunder after all."
(Maertock Reave)

As Maertock departed, his visage turned away from the amicable elf, his friendly veneer would dissipate into the monstrous shark that he was, dripping with occultic fervor and dedication to the deep. Yes, there were parts of Atlantis he would quite enjoy, were that they sunk....just a bit deeper.