The only 'wonder' of Thedas is how everything got to be so very brown.

[dwarfing]

WHO: Shale & Open
WHAT: Catch-all for all your grumpy golem needs.
WHEN: April
WHERE: Courtyard/Warden Camp
NOTES: Grumpy statues and probably bird harm

Courtyard

When not out murdering bears with scouts or anything in general with Zevran, the large golem could be found in the Skyhold Courtyard, right by the stairs to the upper area with the entrance to the main keep and the sparring ring. Nothing else seemed to hold for the weight of them, so Shale was forced to stay put and watch people. Something they had quite enough of in Honnleath, thank you very much.

A golem isn't quite what you'd expect to see in Skyhold, however - at least not one without a control rod - and by now Shale really wished they had a sign to say that they were a free and thinking being, considering how many asked. Their patience was thinner than the Veil by a Rift right now, and it showed.

(They're still not sorry for the man they slapped across the yard for trying to snap off one of their precious crystals. At least he didn't die, and rumors not to piss the golem off had spread quickly.)

Unfortunately that also meant that Shale was very alone and endlessly bored. The Blight had been a lot more interesting than just waiting around all the time for people to get their asses in gear and go punch an evil Magister.

Come bother them?

Warden Camp

At other times, they made their way over to the Warden Camp to bother the people there... or to just snark at Alistair, who knows. Generally not the most sociable of creatures, Shale still felt the most at ease with the old companions from the Blight, and that also meant meeting more crazy people that knew Jonas.

...and them meeting Shale.

Wildcard

Fight them? Compliment them? Flirt? Sarcasm contest?

Comments

Courtyard

[onlyhymns]

It's a fairly standard early evening, and Cade is helping out with Skyhold's repairs by hauling materials from one end of the keep to the other. Despite the chilly, dreary weather, he's only wearing an undershirt along with his usual boots and trousers, and it has absolutely soaked through by the rain and his sweat. He also has two black eyes, and a little scar on his cheek.
In other words, he looks awful.

But that doesn't stop him from hauling a crate of small stones up the stairs, a task which is already clearly taxing him, but he's dedicated. And all is well and good until he notices the statue by the stairs, has a split second to wonder at why it would have been moved there, and then it turns its head. Cade is so surprised that he misses a step, slips, and falls backward the two or three steps he'd already ascended, to land on his behind in the mud with rocks scattered everywhere.
This is off to a promising start.

courtyard

[chainlightning]

This is, theoretically, one of the more foolish things Merrill has ever done.

In one hand is a rag, one used to clean and polish metal and gems to a shine. In the other is a brush, the same sort one might to get particularly stubborn mud off. Both feet are bringing her right toward Shale. Rumor about someone being slapped across the courtyard or not, it's very wet and muddy out, and Merrill knows how much better she feels when she isn't covered in the stuff. Besides, she has a feeling the golem may have a hard time reaching every muddy spot.

She does, at least, stop at a distance far enough away that means Shale will have to at least take one step before punching her right in the face.

"Hello! I was wondering if perhaps you would like me to clean some of the mud off you? That way your crystals can shine brighter, and- well, that way it won't all build up on you."

[dwarfing]

Shale calmly watches as the man thuds down the stairs like a mess, waiting to hear the snap of a bone. He disappoints in that area and instead looks so miserable that Shale can't really enjoy it that much.

"It missed a step," they say dryly. "It should watch where it is going."

Then again, this guy didn't seem like he watched himself that much, considering his beaten face.

Argh, fine. They'll reach down to grab the scruff of his shirt and stand him up.

[dwarfing]

Well. This was... new. Shale stares down at the elf, eyes narrowing a bit. She was smart enough to stay out of their reach, which was almost pleasing to the golem. It meant the rumor was spreading that they shouldn't be annoyed.

Still, someone offering to clean them? That was really weird to the golem and Shale isn't quite sure what to make of this elf. She was Dalish, or so the scribbles on her face said. Small, with a little bit of an accent.

Odd, indeed.

"The small elf wishes to wash me?" They say, incredulous. "Why does it care?"

[onlyhymns]

Cade knows in theory that golems exist, but has never seen one in person. He has also seen statues walk around before, but that was in Kirkwall and arguably one of the more traumatic experiences in his life, because it was in the midst of a bloody battle with the Champion and mages and... well, statues aren't supposed to move.

He stares at Shale in horror as it talks, then attempts to flinch away with a yelp of terror when they scruff him, but he's caught. ...and set down. His hands are already over his face as though expecting a blow, but when nothing happens, he cracks his fingers to peer through them.
"...you can talk," he says weakly, "...that's... you're not supposed to be able to talk." Or move, but maybe under the influence of red lyrium? He doesn't see any, and doubts it would be unattended if he did.

[dwarfing]

Rather than red, the crystals on Shale's body were green, glowing faintly. Good thing they didn't wear their fire ones, right?

The golem peers down at the man, wondering if smacking him along the courtyard would really be that bad. Even if he reminded them of a frightened puppy.

"I speak, and it blathers. Clearly one of us uses the skill better."

shortest tag but I'M HERE

[byblow]

"Shale," Alistair asks one night in the Warden camp, sitting on the ground next to the golem, who—can golems sit? Is that a thing golems do? Has he ever seen Shale sit? If they did sit, would they be able to get back up?

Sitting. Next to Shale. That's the point. And his tone is one that anyone who knows him for more than a few weeks and understands vocal tones will learn to recognize: not quite joking, but aware that he's probably going to be annoying or get into trouble and embracing it.

"Are you going to live forever?"

[onlyhymns]

And it mocks, too, though he can't blame it. Cade slowly lowers his hands when it appears he's not about to be murdered, and in response to the golem's words, he... gives a small nod. It has a point.
"..um," he falters, acting fidgety as he glances around at the spilled rocks, "...what, uh.. are you?"

[dwarfing]

Shale watches the man, slightly relieved that he wasn't completely spineless and still still stayed put. Any more fumbling from the man and he would probably slip on his own toes, after all. "It asks what I am yet it did not think I should be able to speak? Curious."

Shale shrugs a bit, their massive frame creaking slightly. "I am a golem," they start, and then quickly add; "I do not have a control rod."

short is good! <3

[dwarfing]

Alistair honey, Shale is not going to sit. The golem can hang with you in your loser club, but they're not going to chill. (Because honestly, it's uncertain if they could get back up.)

Turning their head, the golem looks down at the blonde with a frown. The question is something they've thought about now and then, but in all honesty they preferred to ignore it and stuff it down in that place with memories and pieces of Shayle.

The golem lets him worry about that 'being annoying' part for a while as they go over the question in their head. "It's possible. If nobody shatters me, I am built to last." Maybe ages. Maybe hundreds of ages. Time did not kill a golem.

[onlyhymns]

This brings a flush to the man's face-- shamed by a statue, who would have thought? "Sorry," he says in a low, sheepish voice.
He looks up again when Shale explains, and though he comprehends, it's clear he's still having trouble with the idea. "...do golems usually have control rods?"

[byblow]

"And last and last," Alistair agrees. If Shale weren't Shale, his tone would be well-paired with a pat on the leg, that's my golem, etc. But Shale is Shale and Alistair likes his bones where they are. He keeps his hands to himself. "But will you forget things, like you did before?" Perhaps they can see where this is going. "Are you going to forget us?"

[dwarfing]

Alistair has grown wiser in his older years, it seemed. Or at least less suicidal.

His last words makes the golem pause, however, and they turn their head a bit to look up at the sky and the scar there. Would they forget everything again? Or had that only been a side-effect of being deactivated for so long?

A thousand years from now, would they still know the name Alistair?

Shale has a definite itch to kick the human, but that wouldn't help the phantom pain in their chest.

"It would be too hard to forget it. Nobody grates me like it does, so it does not need to worry."

[dwarfing]

"It does not know about golems? Curious." Curious indeed, and frankly kind of a relief. They were hounded a lot about that blasted control rod, after all.

"What is it doing?" They're not really interested - not really. However, it is damn boring to just stand here.

[chainlightning]

'Small elf'. Well, Merrill supposes everyone looks small to a golem, and she is an elf.

"I know it's uncomfortable when mud gets caked on me, and I thought it might be the same for you. And if not- well, I thought perhaps you might appreciate it anyway. Getting it off your crystals, out of the crevices... though if I'm wrong, just let me know!"

A pause, and then there's a little awkward smile.

"My name is Merrill. I just- try to do nice things, I guess."

[byblow]

"Are you sure?" That's a stupid question. There's probably no way for Shale to be sure. There's probably no way for anyone to ever be sure of anything—or that's the general sense of despair over the Wardens and the torn sky talking. Anyway, it's a stupid question and not one Alistair expects an answer to. His point is actually: "I could be more grating."

He really could.

"I could ask you for shoulder rides."

[dwarfing]

It was a stupid question, but it put a little seed of something inside the golem's chest that made them want to punch something really hard. There was no certainty of anything, was there?

Especially not right now.

...Alistair's next words are almost soothing in their stupidity.

"If it wishes to keep its genitals attached to its body, it will not even think of that."

[dwarfing]

Well, then. This was... weird. Nobody had really offered something like this before. Wilhelm threw a bucket of water on them now and then, and Sten had carefully wiped some blood off them once, but usually Shale just stepped into a lake, shook a bit and then walked out again.

It could be... interesting, to see the elf get all the caked mud off their body. At the same time, it was so unexpected that the golem found themselves wondering what the catch was.

Still. Shiny crystals.

"...very well. It may proceed."

[onlyhymns]

"Um, just..." Cade looks down at the mess, and gestures around. "...bringing some rocks to the Keep. We're fitting them into holes and the mortar. And... and whatnot." He vaguely wonders if the rock creature will find this offensive. He looks at it out of the corner of his eye.

[chainlightning]

Lakes are also quite muddy, as far as Merrill is concerned, at least when there's all this rain and run-off. Besides, isn't it nicer to have someone do it for you, and to help in turn?

"Tell me if there's anything you'd like or wouldn't like, while I work?"

Merrill smiles again at the golem, stepping closer to get to work.

"Head first, I think? That way it all runs down and doesn't get to any clean spots."

[dwarfing]

The golem huffs slightly at that, feeling like it was a waste of time to repair this old fortress with such crude methods. They needed some dwarves in the keep, doing proper repairs with the right kind of stone.

Then again, Shale wasn't bothered by drafts.

"I see. It will need to pick up its stones, then."

[dwarfing]

Shale makes grumbling sound, but they even move a bit closer to the stairs so Merrill can use them to get to their head without having to climb the golem. Sitting down might mean a lot of annoying re-muddening when getting up, after all.

If this strange little elf was going to wash them, they better at least keep clean for a day.

"This does not mean I owe it anything."

Shale adds as an after-thought. Washing wasn't going to sway their loyalties... but they might punch someone for Merrill in return.

Maybe.

[chainlightning]

The movement is courteous, and Merrill smiles and says a quiet 'thank you'. Otherwise, though, she's perfectly content to get to work.

Well, at least until Shale mentions debt.

"Oh- no, of course not! I mean, I offered. And I don't know if suds in your eyes hurts the same way it might for me, but if you could tilt your head back a bit to avoid it...?"

Gotta get that head all clean.

[onlyhymns]

Cade nods, stopping and beginning to do just that. He's still certainly unnerved by the creature, but he's a Templar, and can't just shut down every time he sees something jarring or unusual. One thing continues to bother him, however.

"...why are you calling me 'it'?" He fears for the worst.

[byblow]

"Maker, Shale, you can't tell me not to think of it. That will only make me think about it more. It's as if you don't know me at all."

But he does like his genitals and their current attachment to the rest of him, and so on—evidenced by an uncomfortable shift in his posture—so he will do his best to think of it silently. He can do that.

"If you do remember me, will you make sure to tell people I was grating?" he asks. This is selfish, probably. To think of Shale still standing in a thousand years, hopefully not alone but certainly some kind of lonely, making sure things are remembered a certain way when it might be better if they could just forget and not miss anyone or anything—but he's asking anyway. The whispering in his head is louder every week. If he's going to die, he wants people to remember him as an obnoxious bastard. "And that Zevran was funny and Leliana liked to sing," he adds, "and Morrigan—I don't know. Something nice about Morrigan."