The jaunty and somewhat stylish man on the edge of the crowd seems lost in thought. His dark hair, struggling to keep its place under his hat, skirling as if carressed by an invisible wind seems to mirror his lack of mental direction. Then, he blinks, and his hair drops about his skull, inert. His face is made up - painted with stripes and eyes kohled to emphasise depth and shadow.
Attai feels as if he's been on the nod lately, and not the nod of knowing. Like he's been lost in his mam's skirts too long, and also lost in the cards.
Still, they do guide thy hand...
He shuffles his deck and picks a card at random
Attai views the card momentarily, as he has done with his cards a thousand times before it seems.
Healing; The divine Wisdom. How appropriate.
He places the card in the band of his hat and walks over to the entrance of the shattered godhouse to take a peek at the sodmob, and ken the scene. He's a dapper bod, and as a native knows how to navigate, keeping his elbows close to his frame and peelers open. His ornate armor and array of weapons are artfully arranged and close to hand but not obviously threatening.
Why with this sodding mess? Can't a berk get a lousy pint of bub? an older tiefling grumbles to himself while shoving through the crowd trying to get to one of his favourite nearby taverns.
He starts forcibly moving people out of his way if they don't let him cut through the crowd, Get outta me way, or I'll put ya down in the deadbook meself.
He has the washed up appearance of someone who has hit hard times and has little left to lose. And he certainly doesn't seem like he can be bothered by some silly event at a broken down old temple.
In the process of bowling over anything in sight, he rams through a bizarrely ornate and painted up sylph causing Glyphimor to trip.
Watch where ya're goin', Berk! Sodding Genasi running around like ya own the place!
Attai notes the presence of many of the Athar in the crowd, and wonders at the significance while trying not to panic. When the old horned sot bumps into him he smiles despite his rising discomfort and continues to try not to get dragged templeward...
"You have a tot to spare chum? Some liquid courage might suffice hereabouts..."
Adroitly shouldering through the throng, and stepping aside at the choice moment, Attai takes a moment to dust the patina of invisible dust off his baroque armor. He looks around, spies the Smoldering Corpse, and holding his hand out as a sign toward the bar speaks to the grizzled tiefling.
"Well then, my shout. Attai Kah, at your service."
dotting
Looking not so much a person as a wandering bit of pure instability XAOC finds little trouble shoving people out of the way to see what the fuss is all about near the center of the crowd. In a voice that flucutates wildly in tone and volume the thing bellow sings as it heads towards the center. "wHAt IS going On he I wonDER?"
The tiefling gives Attai Kah little regard as he continues pushing his way through the crowd shoving with horns and stamping with cloven hooves.
Only when the Smoldering Corpse is clearly in sight, does he pause to reply gruffly, Name's Glyphimor. He seems to care little about making friends in the sea of berks and is much more focused on locating his next pint.
Attai shrugs in a non-commital manner, more interested now in the strange apparition that appears to be heading into the middle rather than sensibly out of the mob. Nevertheless he remembers his manners, in a manner of speaking... Again indicating the 'Corpse, Attai smiles vacantly, giving the impression of a marionette in attitude if not tone.
"Well met Master Glyphimor. I might rest m'bones in the piss-renter. Down some grog and all that. Converse at whatever length on the wyrdsome goings on hereabouts." His gaze clears as he comes to a realisation that perhaps Glyphimor is less of a gabber than his own good self.
"Or swive. Always up for some swiving." he grins good naturedly.
Attai doesn't move however, considering Xaoc further.
"How deliciously random!"
Know. Local
"HellO Fell GRAVity Treating You WELL?"
Well... ya certainly talk alot... the tiefling notes before seeing the Dabus fall to the ground.
Fell... Glyphimor says knowingly through gritted teeth. The tiefling bent down, grabbed the Dabus, and pulled him back to his feet.
Having trouble keepin' on yer own two feet, Fell?
Attai recognises Fell, and assists Glyphimor in returning the Dabus to a standing position...
Attai is about to turn away when he notices something near where Fell had fallen. He peers, and suddenly reaches out to snatch at it before it is kicked away by the mob...too late!!!
Attai almost screeches.
"There!!! [points to something] A card! Grab it Glyphimor!
@LOC - do I have time to give Glyphimor a bit of luck?
Attai sighs as the coupon flies away. His gaze takes his eyes past the the jumbled creature (Xaoc).
What is it doing I wonder…
Xaoc drifts towards the temple.