Recent content by Nakoa Singh

Nakoa blinked. Of course, they were close. Was it a surprise at this point? No, not really. As for the rest, well... The Wrean slapped a hand against his leg at Arla's very reasonable answers. "Just so! This I accept." Even with a shielded mind, deceiving Nakoa was a difficult prospect and he...

Long, slender fingers plucked the jewel from the witch-smoothed tabletop. Ever attuned to such things, it was more than tingles that spread up Nakoa's fingers like lightning. Impressions, echoes, fragments. The power in this jewel was immense, domineering, and twisted. And it was bound to blood...

Nakoa waved his left hand in a peculiar way and a bottle floated from somewhere. A soft stomp of the foot raised a flat-topped stone platform between he and Arla, serving as a table upon which the bottle and two glasses landed. Just as Arla remembered and very much a Nakoa thing to do, he was...

An eyebrow raised. "Isn't that a childhood thing, usually?" Their voice wasn't judgemental so much as curious, though that never stopped others from misinterpreting. Nakoa didn't know what 'built different' was supposed to mean, but it was ironically funny in a way they didn't bother elaborating...

"Unfortunate indeed." Stone beds? No thanks. They listened, both to Mallory's conversational reply and, to some degree, the nature around them as they continued along the upward, steepening trail. Mallory was, obviously, at least familiar with the Force. Baran Do would not accept an initiate...

Arla's spaciness didn't go unnoticed and, at some point, Nakoa paused their infodump to poke them with the notebook and a questioning stare. The return question wasn't one Nakoa anticipated, and he stared even harder for several long, quiet seconds. Then he blinked. "Naturally," he replied with...

Getting a good look at the younger Wrean, Nakoa noticed- well, mostly how young she was and a certain youthful spite about her. The older Wrean's grin widened slightly at the younger's denial of theft, instant admission of the actual problem, and subsequent suspicion. Nakoa tutted and wiggled a...

Nakoa responded to the human's bow with a similar but more theatrical bow. "Your glowing praise humbles me," he said playfully before straightening back up for the lazy handshake. "Have to ask. Are the rumors of stone beds true, or not?" Only the most hard-hitting questions from this Wrean, yes...

"For the adventure, of course." Nakoa paused. "And also, from what I can find, some very old original magic and, potentially, a sort of war machine." They shrugged. "When the Witch-King was alive, no one went entered and lived. All I've got are old, half-buried historical records and partially...

Endless research was Nakoa's specialty by this point. Not that they minded whatsoever, they loved it truth be told. It was just principle, in this case. This one had taken an inordinate amount of time to figure out, but in the end, they usually found what they were looking for. And so they...

An open look of amusement crossed Nakoa's face, though it wasn't visible through the mask. It was certainly audibly in their voice when they responded to the definitely-not-napping mountain guide. "A guide is a guide, no?" the Wrean responded breezily, unbothered by the human's cooler tones...

Exploring part of the Witch-King's tomb had been informative but not entirely fruitful just yet. It was an extensive complex, by all accounts, and other work had called them away. But now there was time. Particularly as Nakoa believed they'd found hints of even more of worth hidden in the...

Honestly, Nakoa thought they'd dislike Dorin more than they did. The weather was actually pretty nice this time of year. Sure, a breath mask was needed, but at least it wasn't some horrible desert. Or another thrice-damned lava planet. Never again. Between other more scholarly activities, the...

Currents were hard to predict, at times. There was a science to it, sure, but the smallest little things, the most minuscule change, could turn the flutter of butterfly wings into a mighty hurricane. However in this case they just took a young girl away from a rough-and-tumble Abyss-Diver...

A deal had been struck, however strange, in whatever way it'd come to be. Magic and blood were the ink for this contract. Knowledge was the game, as it so often was in Nakoa's work. The whole thing was dangerous for the Wrean in particular. Arla hadn't seemed pleased by it all, but also seemed...