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![[DND] Gaspar.](http://d.furaffinity.net/art/dragonsushi/1689721693/1689721693.dragonsushi_gaspar_bg.png "Click to change the View")
The stranger followed every tiny motion with his eyes, particularly where the food was concerned. He crept closer with cautious, almost ratlike motions without taking his eyes off of Claudeworth, or—most fortunately—without picking up his sickle. The question and invitation received no reply, but the bowl was attacked just as readily the moment he crouched in front of it. the firelight did the wretch no favors, now showing his dark colored teeth, nails, and the extent of the damage done to his hands. Only 6 complete fingers to call his own, and scars carved into sigils that looked to have meaning to someone, somewhere.
Once the second helping was eaten he took to staring again, blinking far less often than normal. He cleared his throat and licked his lips, then his voice rolled suddenly from his throat too loudly, then too quietly, then too loudly again.
"B...BENNNS-svenk... Aaach...chthenNNNDD." he looked almost startled at his own voice for a moment, but continued excitedly. "Hhhh. HHHH...! Hhhhlarrrrr...?"
Claudeworth tilted his head and shook it sympathetically, his concern for the young man growing by the second.
("'Cursed' my talon, this lad looked abused to high heaven.") He felt ashamed for almost letting the nuns' gossip of a boogeyman get to him, and realized now how important it was to get him away from such superstitious folk. Perhaps within the next day or two... ("Goodness, you're getting ahead of yourself, Claudy. It would help to know how to communicate with the lad before making travel plans.")
The aarakocra gently stoked the fire and pondered how best to reply. He didn't know what language the kid was speaking, but it sounded like he was almost guessing how to speak it himself.
"Can you hear me, son? Can you hear what I'm... what you're saying?"
The stranger's eyes were busy following a moth as it fluttered into the fire and the question was answered by lack of answer. After a time those piercing eyes turned back to the birdfolk and the odd voice rolled out again.
"Hhhesssjinnng... No... No Hllar..." he mumbled. "G...G... GGGGAAasparrrr... T-t-t-uorrrr...? TUUUOr... Hesjing."
He inched closer on his knees and brought the stench of filth and blood with him. Both dirty hands were cupped in a begging gesture, his head bowed but eyes still pointed right into Claudeworth's like loaded crossbows.
The large birdfolk frowned and furrowed his brow. Did he want more food? Money? Something else? ("Goodness, that smell...")
He resisted the urge to cover his beak and instead patted himself down, searching for something to write on. "Oh dear. I'm not sure..."
Unfortunately, all he had was his recipe book. Claudeworth fished it out along with a quill and hoped there were still some empty pages, quickly flipping through. "Ah! There we are." He busied himself with writing down a quick message, then ripped it from the page and placed it and the quill gingerly in the stranger's cupped hands. To be on the safe side, he began preparing another bowl of steadily cooling rice and beans while his message was read.
Hello there! My name is Claudeworth. What's yours?
"LLLRrrr!" he exclaimed. The noise didn't sound positive, but his eyes and attempted smile told another story. He took the pen comfortably into his right hand and scrawled a lightning-fast reply despite the missing digits.
Dokaal speech, okay
Gaspar hello Does Claudeworth water too? Thirsting
The handwriting was spiked and strange to the birdfolk, almost arcane in style. The disjointed sentences seemed even more strange in such purposeful handwriting, but it seemed like strange was in abundance with this one.
Despite a few bits of straw, grass, and dust, his dark clothes looked cleaner than the rest of him. Loose hide leggings, dyed leather armor that resembled bat wings, quality heeled boots that looked straight from a nobleman's wardrobe, all covered by a deep red hooded cloak. At his waist was a shining steel dagger with a handle like a stylized dragon's head, complete with ominous ruby eyes; so many things didn't add up. But food and water were simpler questions with easy answers, ones Claudeworth was far better equipped to handle.
~~~(Excerpt from a writing project
Pawn King and I did together)It's him! That witchy boy! He's a lot of fun for me to draw, comes to me naturally.
Category Artwork (Digital) / Fantasy
Species Human
Size 1200 x 1600px
File Size 433.2 kB
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