Awe and mystery surely swirled around the massive construct as the vultures who had come to pick on the dead now stood in the presence of something so utterly unique. For Engrim, however, thousands of little thoughts were firing off as the massive metal giant freed himself from the earth. On auto-pilot as his feet shuffled forwards closer and closer to Met, his mouth hung slightly agape as he was trapped inside his head.<br/><br/>In all of his time since he'd procured such a strange profession, he'd only been recovering shards here and there. Petty little splinters of trinkets go awry or residue left from some lingering foulness brought forwards by yet another attempt at magic they couldn't even begin to comprehend let alone master. With the exception of one extremely bewildered chicken who had become phosphorescent thanks to a botched spell, Engrim had only been bringing back defunct and utterly lifeless little baubles. Still, despite their seemingly utter unimportance, he had been making a killing as he went from one court to the next. A neutral party when it came to his clients, he played the field as he scraped together his living and stored it away for that one day when he could finally vanish from the worn torn fields forever. That day where he would finally procure something of enough importance to someone. Enough importance to make them willing to pay an exuberant price, his price, so that he could finally laugh away into the sunset with his freedom and growing little nest egg.<br/><br/>And, as Engrim stood there looking up at the hulking mass that would have probably been worth the weight of the metal and the gems adorning it in the very least, he felt a pulse thud through his grimy heart.<br/><br/>He'd finally found his payday.<br/><br/>Well, potentially so. There was a good chance this thing was just like any other crazy contraption birthed from the mind of a mad mage. That meant it was probably going to explode soon, or cause a good bit of death and destruction before it finally pittered out. He'd be careful, but...still...<br/><br/>Those markings were unique, and he didn't have to be the most trained eye to tell nor did he ignore the way it rose from the ground. The idea of it not being a result of one of the magic users was far more alluring to them. If there was one thing the damned lords loved more than their own magic it was relics that could possibly give them more power. At the start of it all, the far corners of the worlds had nearly been knee deep with adventures stumbling over (and other time purposefully trampling) one another at the promise of the wealth they offered. A few lucky bastards had cashed in, and run off with enough gold to never be heard of again. Engrim, being most eager to join their ranks, only bolstered his courage more and continued his approach until he stopped a safe distance away. Safe in that he could get a good sprint going and dive for cover behind a dirt mound should the thing turn on him.<br/><br/>The glowing began to start and, instantly, he took three large steps back and reassessed his position. Glowing, in this world, was rarely a good thing. It was all shiny lights and spectacles that usually came before the not so pleasant 'boom' part. The noise that came next nearly had him on one leg, and the man flinched and was into the dirt the second the chest plate came open. Face first in the mud (and what smelled considerably not like mud but had the unfortunate occurrence of being the same coloring), he scrambled behind the dune and braced himself for yet another sprint. When no great explosion came, the wind carrying a voice instead, his brow furrowed and he twisted back around. Cautiously peaking around the side, his eyes locked on the man first before going to Met. Back once again, he finally fixed his attention onto the soldier before him and slowly stood from his position.<br/><br/>His unruly head tilted a little to the side. Brought him back? It...wait. He... His eyes narrowed in concentration as that concept tried to form in his head. Even the most powerful sorcerers of their time were always squabbling about the concept of willing the life back into a corpse. Necromancy, that rancid practice, had arisen from such a desire but was utterly corrupted and only good so long as you didn't mind your reincarnated friend stinking like last week's left overs and trying to gnaw on everyone's throat. This, however, was obviously different. Mostly because it worked.<br/><br/>One really should have felt fear wobbling inside of them, telling them that this was far beyond their mortal reach of both understanding and their ability to handle the situation. Engrim, however, just felt his heart squeal and cackle at the realization that this, if he could somehow lay claim to it, was the payday of all paydays. The one relic in the world that anyone would pay for. That they'd all be vying for, and he had been in the right place at the right time to see it arise. Just the knowledge alone (not that his greedy little mind would ever settle for that) had to be worth a great deal!<br/><br/>All this had zipped through his thoughts before the solider could speak again and Engrim snapped his attention fully back to the present; if he wanted to keep this thing in his 'possession' he was first and foremost going to have to find a way to keep it in his sight. With one attempt to clear his throat and a stiffening posture, Engrim attempted first to look the solider in the eyes. Realizing then that the hair on his head might start standing like its brethren on the back of his neck, he cut his gaze around them as he motioned.<br/><br/>"You're half a day's ride past the village of Kurm, kingdom of Urlcham. Nasty bit of a battle happened thanks to a Sorcerer-King called Relan. Far as I can figure, a bit of a magical boom must have rattled it a bit. Woke it up, if it is the sort of thing that does things like waking." None of that was very hard to figure out, and he knew it. He'd need to be a bit more specific and sound a whole hell of a lot more in charge if he wanted to keep its attention. Clearing his throat again, he stepped forwards and focused on the man in front of him, not really meeting his gaze so much as looking at his left ear.<br/><br/>"Not to make presumptions, but something doesn't just get stuck that far below the ground with a brush or two of wind, does it? I take it your, er...friend has been doing there for a while?" He needed to hold onto some bit of knowledge, a bit of a hook and some bait to catch the thing's ear. Er. Or whatever it heard with. Engrim ventured a smile. "Seems to me that there might be one or two things that it needs knowing about, being all curious like as it is. I'd, uh, be happy to fill in the blanks the best I could, if it would like."<br/><br/>His head had bowed ever so slightly, trying to seem humble just in case it had a sense of authority about itself. Judging from its size, it just might.<br/><br/>“Engrim Altuflo, at your- and its- service,” he added quickly with a bow of his head.<br/><br/>It was an unnerving attempt. Engrim, while accustomed to being rather bold in his field, had never faced something so stoic before. He had no idea what that stone face was thinking and, instead, gazed down from the mask to the man in front of him. Despite the glowing of the eyes, he supposed he could be as easy to read as any other bloke. Sure he was back from the dead, but he was still a person after all. Wasn't he? The man honestly wasn't sure but it was about the only hope he had at the moment.