"Halmes - erm, they're a species of goblin..." the minute 'goblin' leaves her mouth, innocent as it is, Mel'arnach is awash in embarrassment. Though an impersonal taxonomic distinction, something about that word feels like a faux pas. As if Mel'arnach is reminded that she was ultimately a newcomer to this world and bandying about words that had no real meaning or that could potentially be derogatory. "This world has another word for them" - a brief fumble before her face lights up - "human. Yes, that's it."
Most drowolath considered humans and non-magical folk to be inferior, too weak to resist the insatiable, subjugating avarice so ubiquitous among her people.
Mel'arnach chuckles, light and airy, and gestures to herself as well as she can manage with her arms full of Murderbot. "You can see that I am not. I am a drowolath. And... yes, magic is everywhere where I come from." If Murderbot attempted to emit a signal, it passes overhead with no notice, though perhaps infrared readings would yield the unusual heat signature emitting from her body. Mel'arnach stands, magically anomalous and in pure flesh and blood. "You said... changing the body could be done in your lands, but I'm assuming that magic was not."
She smiles, paying no mind to the way that Murderbot stumbled through the pronunciation of its impromptu moniker, as if it was newly tasting the name on its tongue. Nothing about it read as insincere to her in the moment, only peculiar. (The hastily-chosen pseudonym was likely for the best: even hailing from a world filled with people named Sandaur'recherrai and Diva'ratrika, Murder'bot would have been slightly jarring for obvious reasons. Maybe it's pronounced Mar-duh.)
"A pleasure to meet you, Eden Rin. I assumed that this was not how you normally greet people," she says, "But we may yet find a solution for your troubles."
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Most drowolath considered humans and non-magical folk to be inferior, too weak to resist the insatiable, subjugating avarice so ubiquitous among her people.
Mel'arnach chuckles, light and airy, and gestures to herself as well as she can manage with her arms full of Murderbot. "You can see that I am not. I am a drowolath. And... yes, magic is everywhere where I come from." If Murderbot attempted to emit a signal, it passes overhead with no notice, though perhaps infrared readings would yield the unusual heat signature emitting from her body. Mel'arnach stands, magically anomalous and in pure flesh and blood. "You said... changing the body could be done in your lands, but I'm assuming that magic was not."
She smiles, paying no mind to the way that Murderbot stumbled through the pronunciation of its impromptu moniker, as if it was newly tasting the name on its tongue. Nothing about it read as insincere to her in the moment, only peculiar. (The hastily-chosen pseudonym was likely for the best: even hailing from a world filled with people named Sandaur'recherrai and Diva'ratrika, Murder'bot would have been slightly jarring for obvious reasons. Maybe it's pronounced Mar-duh.)
"A pleasure to meet you, Eden Rin. I assumed that this was not how you normally greet people," she says, "But we may yet find a solution for your troubles."