You're not in Ketra anymore...(Open!)

[Anonymous]

"It's a bolt, it won't bite you" Cook said, muffling his amusement. After all, anyone would be jumpy in the kid's situation.

"Well, we'll find you something to eat once we board the ship." Cook assured "Nothing fancy, but it's filling and hasn't killed anyone yet."

A sharp creaking drew Cook's attention back to his leg. He slowed to a stop "Kid, give me a hand" He said, practically falling back onto his behind into a sitting position. He was not about to take his leg off in public just to get a bolt back into the joint. "See this hole? That bolt needs to go back in it" He stated "And your hands fit better'n mine" which was why he always had to take it apart to fix it. He'd hoped the leg would hold long enough to get back to the ship, but he wasn't going to risk completely ruining his leg just because he didn't like fixing it in public.

[Anonymous]

Samari tried not to seem so fascinated with the bolt after Cook teased about it not biting him.  Cupping it in his hand and letting the arm fall at his side.  Besides, he didn't need to look at it to learn about it.  Right now he was poking it with a finger, to see how the bottom bit of it worked.  All the grooves on it made it rough.

Any food sounded good about now.  It'd probably take him a few days to get used to the tastes of normal food again, so for this first meal he'd take what was given and eat.  Anyone whose name was Cook couldn't prepare anything that bad.  He was probably just being modest when he said it hadn't killed anyone yet.  It wasn't practical to bring nice, fancy food on a ship.  They were out at water too long for any of it to stay good.  

Samari nearly jumped again when Cook's leg made a loud noise and he stopped.  This time he managed to contain himself, raised eyebrows aside.  Samari took a tentative step toward Cook, hoping he didn't want help standing up.  There was no way he could give him any sort of assistance with that, they'd probably both be sprawled on the ground in the end if he tried to provide a balance for Cook to stand with.  Cook, because he wouldn't be able to heave himself up and Samari, because he'd be yanked to the ground from the effort.  

That wasn't it though.  Samari looked at the hole Cook pointed out, then looked at the bolt and back at the hole.  Seemed like a simple concept, the skinny end of the bolt went into the hole.  It was almost surprising that no one had invented something like this back in Necromantia or at least Serendipity or Adela.  No man would ever need training to use it.  Samari knelt down a little to get a better look at the hole, then placed the tip of the bolt inside and pushed.  He was a little surprised to find that the bolt didn't just go all the way in.  Maybe some training would be involved once bolts were invented back home.  Samari wriggled the bolt, jiggling it up and down and sideways until he felt it shift in a little when he gave it a turn.  Samari kept turning the bolt, watching it sink into the hole.  "Is that good?"

[Anonymous]

Cook was watching the boy curiously. Bolts seemed to be new to him, but then if he really was a spoiled rich kid, he wouldn't know anything about mechanics of any sort, unless maybe it pertained to one of those rediculous nano models he'd seen in all-mart. How anyone could get their tools in one of those things, he didn't know, but they were apparently very popular as they were almost always nearly sold out when he walked by.

Once the bolt seemed to be in place, he flexed his leg. It gave a squeak. "Yeah, that'll do it for now" he said, trying to begin the rather laborous process of getting up off the ground. He wasn't as young as he used to be, and he'd never been particularly small or agile, but then with all the parts he'd had replaced, most people didn't expect him to be.

He looked the kid over, feeling a little skeptical about the idea of it, but sometimes, just a little push helped. "Alright, come around back here and give me a push, would you?" With Cook, requests were most often instructions when it came to getting things done. Tenticles seemed to be growing out of everywhere, preparing to help lift him upright. The mechanical leg was not very good at bending under his body and lifting him up. It just wasn't built or designed to support weight from that position.

[Anonymous]

The squeak made Samari tense up a little - until Cook said his leg was fine.  He had to watch Cook when he fixed his leg properly.  This metal magic would probably get good business back in Adela and Serendipity, hells even the Necromantians might appreciate a way to make undead servants that were falling apart work better.  If anything, he had to find out what made him grow tentacles like that.  That was something he could definitely try to incorporate into his work.

A push?  Samari tilted his head to the side immediately after Cook asked for a push.  If anything, it'd be a good time to check and see if he still had his enhanced strength.  If he did, he couldn't use it to help Cook though, it'd be just too weird if little him managed to shove Cook back on his feet without much effort.  He'd have to use as little as possible so he didn't look suspicious.  

Samari trotted behind Cook, placed his hands underneath a pair of tentacles and gave a tiny little push, flexing his muscles a little.  There was plenty of resistance against his hands.  No more enhanced strength.  He could mourn it later.  He moved his feet apart slightly and pushed as hard as he could, trying not to dig into Cook's back with his nails.  When he got the chance he was really going to have to take those pointy crystal nails off, he couldn't heal himself quickly if he accidentally cut himself now.  Not that he could remember the last time he'd cut himself with the pointed fakes.

[Anonymous]

After a lot of huffing and puffing, Cook got himself back upright with some help from his new traveling companion. "Okay" He breathed, pulling out a square of fabric from his pocket and blotting his face and neck with it. "Onward we go" His gait was more uneven as he was trying not to put too much weight on the mechanical leg until it could be properly repaired. It was also stiff and squeaking and he suspected he had bent part of the joint near the bolt.

"Do you know anything about where your planet is?" Cook asked, still breathless. There was a reason he was a cook. He stayed in the galley and didn't get involved on the hairier missions aside from maybe operating the doors to allow the crew back aboard. "You don't have to answer me, but think about it, the navigator will probably ask you, unless he's already familiar with it, which is also possible."

((OOC: Is necromancia a place that the navigator would be likely to know how to get to? Is it set in history?))

[Anonymous]

For a second Samari worried that Cook wouldn't be able to get up, even with his help and he'd be sent to find another person.  That didn't happen, definitely a good thing.  Though, all those little noises couldn't have been good.  Was Cook just being nice when he said the leg would work after the bolt was put in it?  Why did surface dwellers do that?

Samari didn't get any time to think any further about it.  Cook just asked if he was aware of where his planet was.  His planet!  He didn't even know about planets until he left his birthplace and traveled to the surface.  Stars and planets never really interested him, so he didn't bother learning much about them.  All he knew was that it was called Earth.  Why he have left the planet anyway!  Samari rubbed a temple and took a deep breath, took too deep a breath and had to stop for a moment to breathe out some of the air.

His planet, hells, knowing his luck Crowa was dabbling in something way out of league and he'd been teleported to some other planet.  "Hypothetically... what if I don't know exactly where my planet it?"

((The Navigator would more than likely know where Necromantia is.  He might want to avoid going there though.))

[Anonymous]

"Well, hypothetically, if you have a name of the planet, the Navigator is almost sure to be able to hunt it down anyway, and it's not like you're going to be driving the ship." that was for sure. They'd chew him to bits if he so much as allowed the kid on the bridge without clearance. They were quite strict about that after some rather interesting encounters with new crew members. Pilot, Navigator, Owner and occasionally Cook, were about the only ones allowed on the bridge unless there was a mechanical issue, and then the mechanic or technition would be brought up.

His leg was working as well as could be expected given that it had bent slightly without the bolt holding the joint firmly in place, plus, it was needing to be rebuilt anyway, which was why he had been at All-Mart to begin with.

"There it is, up ahead" He puffed, nodding to a ship that was apparently just parked and waiting. Sometimes having a boss that knew how to work around laws and rules came in exceedingly handy. And bribery helped too.

The ship was not huge as far as ships go, but it was moderately sized, able to carry a significant amount of cargo if required, but it was not simply a cargo ship. It was also agile and fast, which was possibly due to various technologies worked into the system that might, or might not be legal in some planets.

"Thomas" Cook called up to the door "Send Richard down. I have someone here who needs to talk to him."

"Cook, you need to stop taking on the helpless. There's no money in it."

"You let me worry about that, just send Richard down." Cook barked, and it sounded like the com link had possibly been dropped. "He'll be down shortly" Cook assured Samari.

Sure enough, not long after, a rather human looking man appeared "So you're Cook's new pet" He said with a sigh. "Well, what is it that you need?" Probably a ride, but how far out of the way, no one could be sure.

[Anonymous]

That was comforting.  Samari never believed they'd actually let him steer the ship.  They'd all be sitting on the bottom of the ocean if he tried to steer, somehow.  All he knew about steering one was that it involved screaming orders to various crew members (something he could actually do, if he knew the orders) and turning a big wheel around (the mechanics of which he wasn't the slightest bit familiar with).

Samari looked in the direction Cook nodded toward and raised his eyebrows.  That big metal thing didn't look like any ship he'd ever seen.  How could that thing even float on the wa-

Wait... there was no water around here.  There should be sea birds around and fishermen and the sound of waves.  There wasn't anything like that around here.  Samari looked upward for a second, watching the zippy things moving.  Where those?  Was that thing going to fly like some enormous locust!  He felt the beginnings of another dizzy spell coiling in his stomach and somehow managed to follow Cook to the side of the ship.

Samari's knees felt weak when Cook stopped and began hollering at the ship (was the ship called Thomas?  Could it talk and fly?).  It was hard to resist sinking down to the ground and shrieking about how he'd already have wings if he was meant to fly.  He had a similar conflict the first time he went on a proper ship that floated on the water, with himself, he didn't want to let Jerik or anyone else actually see him freak out.  That was the only reason he got on that ship and would probably end up being similar for this one.

When the man appeared Samari looked up at him with wide eyes. An eyebrow raised a little when he was referred to as Cook's pet and for a second it looked like he was thinking.  His eyes got wide again for a second after he was asked what he needed and then he went back to thinking again.  "I need," the words came out a bit high and squeaky, so he cleared his throat and started again.  "I need food, first, I'm starving.  Then, I guess I need to look at a map to find where I'm from... and... I don't have any money but, I might be able to do something else, in exchange.  Anything."

[Anonymous]

"He's the Navigator, you just tell him what the name of the place is, he can probably find it faster than you could-- he might even already know where it is." Cook stated easily, leaning against the edge of the open door. "We'll take care of the food while he takes care of the navigating." Cook had not let anyone starve yet, even with orders to let them starve-- which they finally gave up giving to him, in seriousness or not.

Thomas sighed "Slow down, Cook'll get you fed, have no doubt about that. Let's start with the where, and then we'll go on from there. It could even be on the way" He doubted it, but it was possible, however unlikely. He'd settle for something in the same general direction that didn't require using any warps or jumps or illegal technologies to get to in a reasonable amount of time.

Cook was casually watching the kid now. He had new questions, but he figured he'd ask them over lunch, let the kid sit down and get a bite to eat. No sense in making him stand outside and starve while interrogating him.

[Anonymous]

That was a good thing.  Samari didn't have any idea what a map showing different planets would look like.  Much less how to read one and find a specific one.  He would also spend too much time looking at all the names and trying to remember if he'd ever heard a surface dweller call the planet that.  The name 'Earth' stuck out, but that was also what they called the ground.  Then there was the possibility that these people had their own name for it.  Samari closed his eyes halfway and breathed in a out for a second to finish calming himself down.

"Ah... I don't quite know the name of my planet.  I've heard it called Earth before, but that can't be it's proper name.  How familiar are you with different countries?  I know what country I'm from, on my planet.  It's called Necromantia, every civilized place on my planet should know about it."

[Anonymous]

The Navigator took an abrupt step back, doing some bizzare, superstitious dance that got a raised eyebrow from Cook, who didn't seem to be easily riled. "Cook, you've brought me a ghost."

Cook shook his head. "He's not a ghost." He rolled his eyes, the mechanical one whirring. "Why would you say such a strange thing in the first place?"

Thomas grabbed Cook and pulled him aside "His city is dead, it's been dead for a long time. They wiped it out to kill a virus that was taking it over anyway."

Cook just raised an eyebrow at Thomas "Good, you know where it is then, go chart it out and I'll try to get to the bottom of it on this side."

Thomas looked rather upset about the idea and didn't move.

"Look, you don't want an angry ghost on your ship, we'll just take him home and send him happily on his way." Cook gave him a little push towards the interior of the ship before turning back to the boy. "He knows where it is" Cook assured "However there are a couple more questions to sort out before we can actually set course and take off." Cook motioned him forward, heading for the galley. "Do you know what year you last saw your country?" That would clear up a lot of things. Maybe he got into it with a time mage.

[Anonymous]

The Navigator's weird dance got a raised eyebrow out of Samari too.  It dropped soon after, when the man said he was a ghost.  A ghost?  How could someone just blurt out something like that?  As far as he knew, ghosts weren't supposed to get hungry, or feel relatively alive or... of course, he thought a whole bunch of nonsense about vampires too...

This time he couldn't just be guessing.  The dead (the dead, dead, not the undead) were dead.  Even if a dead soul could feel, he doubted it would do so if it was trapped in the living world.  It would be unseemly.

At least Cook didn't believe that foolishness.  Cook grabbed him, steadied him when he was going to fall, watched him carry the bolt thing.  Surely, Cook would have also noticed if he didn't have a shadow or walked through something absent mindedly.  

He crossed his arms and frowned when the Navigator began conspiring with Cook, feeling a little better when he saw Cook's eyebrow raise again.  Good.  Just to make absolutely sure he was still alive, Samari raised a hand to his neck and felt for his pulse.  It was there.  It was steady.  It made his stomach growl.  That had to be some residual instinct that wasn't quite aware that what it considered delicious, life sustaining liquid was now not-quite-so delicious.  

Samari was still frowning and had just taken his hand off his neck when Cook turned back to him and began walking in the direction Cook indicated, crossing his arms again.  "He better not come near me with any candles," he muttered, looking up at Cook and blinking vaguely when he asked about the year.  "I'm not all that sure.  There are so many different ways everyone counts the years.  I know that it was in the summer though, thirteen years after the reign of Makatula ended, which doesn't help all that much.  Let me think about it for a second."

[Anonymous]

"Alright, you think on that awhile" Cook said, leading him down a narrow hallway and into a very clean kitchen. Cook did not tolerate a dirty kitchen, despite the fact that he had no qualms about taking a seat at the table and working on his leg, he did it quite often actually, but it was always cleaned up after he was done, and was not actually done on the table itself, but on the bench sitting next to the table. "You got allergies to foods or anything like that?" They had probably been largely eradicated in the more affluent areas, but as far as someone thinking they were from a dead city, he might very well still have his allergies.

He began pulling things out of cupboards and drawers, arranging them on his counters. "Take a seat if you want" He offered with a nod towards the bench, putting water on to heat and getting the oven going. Most of their advanced technology seemed to be focused on the ship itself, not little things like the galley. Most of his gadgets were still fairly basic, but he didn't want to have to learn how to fix complicated electronics. He liked his old reliable contraptions, even if he did have to kick them back into working order once in a while-- or send a smaller lackey into the spaces behind the stove and direct him, since Cook himself would never manage to get back out of such a snug space.

[Anonymous]

Years hadn't seemed all that important after Samari came to the surface.  Knowing the year wasn't quite as important as knowing what day of the week it was, or what season it was.  As long as he didn't stare too blankly if anyone ever asked his age Samari thought he was fine.  Why was the year so important anyway?  Wasn't it late summer here?  Well... maybe it wouldn't be if this were a different part of the world.  He remembered some captain, a long time ago when he was in Cerenis, claiming to have sailed in from some island chain in the south where it was still winter while they were suffering through summer.  He was going to have to ask about the year, it was a lot harder to guess about than Cook's next question.

Samari slowly lowered himself onto the bench, leaned back in it and propped a foot on his knee.  "I don't have any."  That was something he would have find out as he went along.  This would be his first time eating surface food he was sure he wouldn't throw up afterward.  At least he hoped he wouldn't throw it up, then he'd be just as hungry.  Or worse, hungry and sick.  He wanted to get over being hungry enough to think the table leg would make a fine meal and go back to being a little finicky.

He was going to ask Cook why years were important when he got a look at the... things in Cook's kitchen and his eyebrows raised.  Where was the fire?  There was a pot but it was just sitting on that counter.  Maybe they couldn't have an open fire on these strange flying ships either.  Samari already decided to eat anything Cook prepared, so he decided to save the complaining for when he was back in Necromantia.  

Now, back to the important stuff.  "Why do you want to know what year it is in Necromantia?"  Wait, why didn't he think about this earlier, it made so much sense.  "Do you have clocks to reset?"

[Anonymous]

"No, no clocks to reset" Cook said, whipping up who knows what quite easily. It was ship food. It wasn't meant to be identified. "We ask because there are people out there who can...fiddle with time. They can put themselves or someone else forward, or backwards, and Thomas rather thinks that's what happened to you." He made his way over and sat heavily on the bench once whatever he was making was in the oven. "Quite a ways back, maybe before you were born even, there was some virus that got loose in necromancia, and they couldn't get rid of it, and they couldn't fix it and everyone kept catching it and dying" Or something. He'd forgotten about it for the most part until Thomas had half freaked out. "So they steralized the entire city." He paused, glancing at the little clock above his stove. "So if you're from there, you're either from quite a way back in time, or you're with the crazy folk who are trying to live in it again just recently. That's why the year is important."

He began taking his leg apart, hoping to get it mostly fixed before the timer on the oven went off. He doubted he would, but then that's how it usually worked. He got to finish his leg in stages. He'd get it all taken apart, and then have to do something, then he'd get it straightened out and cleaned, and have to go again before finally getting it all together, and then lubricating the moving parts. It was definately a process and he was glad his arn and eye didn't require the same constant care.

[Anonymous]

So much for that idea.  Samari sat up straighter when Cook began to explain the reason for the years.  At first he was ready to tell Cook that there was no way this could apply to him.  He didn't know anyone that could fiddle with time.  Neither he nor Villi could do time magic, the fabric of time would have collapsed entirely if Crowa decided to dabble in it.  

Then Cook began telling a story.  About Necromantia.  About a virus that got loose and was killing everyone.  An ancient virus from the sound of it.  Despite it being ancient he never heard anything about an epidemic, sure being in Necromantia had a deleterious effect on the more vibrant signs of life, but he never heard of anything dying from just being in Necromantia.  There definitely weren't any plans to sterilize the city... at least from what he heard.  What if this had already happened though?  What if Cook's people knew more about the history of Necromantia than the Necromantians did?  There were some that thought all the death magic practiced in Necromantia was what gave Necromantia it's atmosphere; but what if it was just the echo of that ancient epidemic, made more potent through all the Necromancy?  

This was something he'd have to research once he got back home.

Samari still couldn't quite remember the current year in Necromantia, but he was already leaning towards thinking that he'd been teleported (and revived) to some obscure part of the world that had been avoiding Le'ranna because of the virus.  Only one way to tell.

"How recent?  I've been living in Necromantia for almost," he slumped back into the bench and pursed his lips a bit, his eyes drifting up and fingers drumming against his ankle.  "Twenty-five years or so.  I came there from Arca, and no one really seemed to think it was particularly new and interesting."

That didn't mean he was from 'quite a way back in time' did it?  Maybe people here wouldn't think twenty-five plus years fell out of the definition of recent time.  Hopefully they wouldn't.  It just wasn't possible that he was from another time... Of course, it shouldn't have been possible for him to be alive again either...  Samari frowned a little and began to twirl a loose strand of hair around a finger.

[Anonymous]

Cook raised an eyebrow. Twenty-five years seemed a very long time for someone who seemed as young as Samari, but then again, Cook had a tendancy to think everyone under the age of 35 was a 'kid' and sometimes even ones older than that depending on how they carried themselves. "I suppose maybe you could be from some underground civalization. There are those around still in some places, hiding from Adolis and what not." And underground seemed an appropreate place for a city full of death magic. "If I recall correctly, which I might not be" He was fully willing to admit he did not have a perfect time frame nailed down on the history of Necromantia "It's been laying empty for quite some time, people were afraid to go back, and the rest of the people were afraid to go there in the first place. Most people aren't too happy about the idea of 'death magic' and even those who don't mind death magic aren't happy about viruses that kill even zombies who aren't alive in the first place." Considering he lived on a ship, some of his facts were possibly rumors, but they were repeated consistantly enough that he figured they were pretty close to the general idea of what happened. "I hear some people are starting to go back now, probably death magic mages, wizards or whatever you like to call them." He shrugged slightly "You think you'd know your city if you saw it from the air?"

His brow furrowed a moment as he considered something. The kid had been afraid of a bolt. "You ever seen a ship like this before today?" That would give a decent idea of time, he thought anyway. "What kind of technology did you have back home while you were there?" Different places definately had different machines and technologies, but certain elements should be along the same general lines. One city did not have plasma cannons while another city still threw rocks by hand-- except perhaps in the situation of Tiener's underground city, but even they had turrets at the outposts.

[Anonymous]

Samari tilted his head to the side when Cook mused about him coming from an underground civilization.  Technically, it was correct.  The majority of his race lived underground, so he was born and lived his entire life (first life?  Live-life?) underground.  That was ages ago though, and they definitely weren't trying to get away from Adeolis.  There were some crazies that preferred to live in the various catacombs around Thanatos, but Samari didn't want to give up his house and there was no way he could move it underground.

Cook's recollection about Necromantia didn't seem to match up to anything he heard.  Except the part about people not being happy about 'death magic', there were some people back on the mainland that didn't approve of Necromantia's choice of magic.  He never heard of anyone deciding not to go to Necromantia because of a killer virus.  Maybe that was why no one from Aedolis came there, and why they didn't know anything about the virus - which had to be gone, because there were no cases of zombies dying.  Zombies lost parts and had to be destroyed, but no zombies ever just stopped working because they got sick.  Zombies didn't even get sick.  Even the ones that died from illnesses didn't stay sick once they rose.

Whatever was done to Necromantia to get rid of the virus must have worked really well...

Samari sat up straight again when the questions started, letting the strand of hair trail off his fingers.  "I'll be able to spot my home from the sky, I know what my grounds look like.  I can just tell you, or whoever when we're over it.  

"I've never seen a ship like this one.  I've never seen a ship that could actually fly instead of float - I thought they all floated on the water.  My neighbor has been trying to make a leather balloon big enough to carry people through the air - but only one and he wants to fly in a chair or something."

Samari paused then and blinked, running the unfamiliar word 'technology' over and over in his head.  He didn't want to say that Necromantia had no kind of 'technology' just because he didn't know what the word meant.  "What's technology?"

[Anonymous]

Oh boy. This was quite a puzzle. "Well, technology is...basically the stuff you use. What kind of weapons, what kind of machinery" He tapped his mostly disasembled mechanical leg. "Transportation...th at would be moving around, ships, boats, cars, carriages, horse-drawn wagons, those sorts of things" He pondered a moment "I suppose medicine could also be technology. Do you remember any weapons, how you got from one place to the next?" Considering the kid had never seen a bolt, he was either very sheltered and spoiled, from a completely different time, or from some completely magic based something or another of a place. Now, Cook was curious.

A leather balloon spoke of a previous time as well. Now, there were plenty of better fabrics and materials to try to hold air in. You would have to sew leather together, and that would leave potentual leaks in every seam.

The timer on the oven went off, and Cook eased himself up onto his one complete leg and hopped his way across the kitchen to remove the food from the oven. It would still have to cool, so he just grabbed the mits and set it on the stove top before laborously hopping his way back to the bench and resuming his work on his leg. "Food should be ready to eat in a bit. Still too hot right now, but if you want to serve yourself up a bowl of it, you can. Or, you can wait."

[Anonymous]

Stuff you use?  Weapons?  Ma-chinery?  Was that anything like chicanery?  He sure hoped it wasn- oh it was like Cook's leg.  That must have been the name for metalwork like that.  

At least he knew what transportation was... aside from that cars thing all the modes of transportation Cook named were used around Thanatos.  Samari was about to answer, to rattle off a list stuff used in Necromantia, when something made a noise out of nowhere.  He looked toward the odd sound, his shoulders tensing up somewhat, his eyes trailing over to Cook when he began hopping toward the kitchen.

Somehow, he managed to keep from drooling when Cook pulled food from one of the weird things in the kitchen.  He wasn't usually the type to drool, but it'd been a long time since he was this hungry.  Samari dug his fingers into the bench, trying to resist the urge to pounce on the food and begin eating immediately.  The food wasn't going to run anywhere, it wasn't alive anymore.  That train of logic didn't keep him from eying the food, squinting at it like he was focusing to get a good look at it before it bolted.

Control.  He had to control himself, before Cook thought he was a barbarian.  Had to act civilized.  The first step was looking away from the food and answering Cook's questions about Necromantia.  Samari sighed and looked up at the roof.

"I'll wait."

Samari's shoulders drooped and he slumped down low on the bench, bracing his head against the top of it.  "There is no machinery in Necromantia, not many horses there either so there aren't many carriages.  It's an island, so there are ships and boats aplenty.  I didn't use any of them though, I either walk where I need to go or I teleport there.  I don't have the funds to maintain a ship or the time to devote to a revenant steed.

"Weapons.  We have plenty of those.  Every sort imaginable.  We even have... what are those strange things called.  One moment."  Samari blinked, crossed his arms over his chest.  "Maybe you've seen them before.  They're usually go up to the waist on a human male, made of wrought iron and wood.  They launch these little round balls, one at a time, bit useless unless you can hit a target.  If it hits there's no problem, usually kills immediately.  I can't remember the name.  I used to go to a place that had pit fighting matches, if a fighter got too unruly they would be killed with one of them.  They're loud, like thunder."

Samari took a deep breath.  The food smelled wonderful, hopefully it wouldn't take too long to cool down.