So worried right now. My brother just got admitted to the hospital after swallowing six toy horses. Doctors say he's in stable condtion.
8
likes
4 yrs ago
Nice to meet you, Bored. I'm interested!
7
likes
4 yrs ago
Ugh. Someone literally stole the wheels off of my car. Gonna have to work tirelessly for justice.
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Bio
Oh gee! An age and a gender and interests and things. Yeah, I have those. Ain't no way I'm about to trigger an existential crisis by typing them all out, though. You can find out what a nerd I am on discord, okay?
The clock struck five and, across San Agustín de las Arenas, it happened. Four of the six Internal Guards, called 'owls' by the residents, collapsed where they stood: two rendered unconscious by internal chemical spells, one by a hard knock to the head, and another - notorious for his abuses of the Tethered - by having his neck slit. The remaining two slept in their rooms, off shift and having been made asleep for... much longer than was natural.
Cardinals at their posts found themselves overwhelmed by lesser Afortunado - half-trained boys and girls - but overwhelmed nonetheless, for such is the powerful advantage bestowed by the Gift. A couple tried to fight and were subdued. One took flight through the hedgerows and flowerbeds of the gardens and was unceremoniously knocked out mere feet from the Side Gate. Others protested with words, recognizing resistance as futile. Many were, in fact, already loyal to Don Escarra and this was mere formality. They nodded to the Tethered and continued to guard, in some cases turning their attention on those less cooperative.
Yet, in the tiled plaza surrounding the Great Bath, the youngest children laughed and played under the watchful eyes of Ayla, Yalen, and Jocasta, unaware of the greater context. So, too, were the handful of caretakers and crafters that moved about, attending to the children's needs.
Ayla was happily playing with the children, and despite the terror it should've inspired, they were in good spirits and had become obsessed with the Sand Wyrm which was coming. It wasn't long before Ayla started teaching them the rules of the game Dança-Alsahra. "The rules are simple, when the music is playing. Dance!", she grinned widely as she gave a little toot upon the flute, "When the música stops, stay absolutely still! This is when the Shai will come. If you move, you are out, as it gobbles you up. This is okay, you can join the wyrm and you get to cheer for your friends for them to survive, and eat them if not! Yum yum." There were looks from the caretakers as they expressed their disapproval, but the children were all for it. "Aunty Jo will play the Wyrm this time! She is super hungry.", she smiled towards her friend who had now been volunteered to take part. 'Uncle' Yalen was left with the task of trying to encourage participation in the fun and games.
Having been voluntold, Jocasta sat by the pool and did her best to turn quickly whenever the music stopped. She hated this game, poor dancer that she'd always been and even worse at stopping on the spot.
She was so distracted by her discomfort and by trying to entertain the small, chaotic humans that surrounded her that she was not paying attention to the energies around her like she usually did.
There was a scream, and a bloodied caretaker, his 'magpie' robes torn and flapping, came running. He grabbed hold of a small girl known only as Rita and held a knife to her neck. "This is rebellion!" he shouted. "Now El Patrón will come and it will be the death of you all! Where is the Warden?" he demanded further, "He has a plan!"
His eyes were wild and bugged out. He pulled the girl in closer and she kicked and wailed. "Shut up, child!" He tightened his grip. "And you," he warned the others. "Try magic and I will feel it before it works. I will strike. All of you," he finished, "you will stop this nonsense at once!"
Ayla felt her heart pounding hard, such a murderous intent was coming from him. The children were in danger. "Children, do what we have practised before. Hide under the furniture and cover your heads. Quickly now.", she continued her encouragement, strongly urging the children to adopt the duck and brace position, instructing the caretakers present for them to do the same, but there wasn't much furniture by the pool. Some of the little ones were crying and others confused as they were herded away. "Señor... we don't know what you are referring to, but these are niños, that is a niñita in your hands. Let her join the others. If you need a hostage, take me instead. Let us talk, no need for them to brought into this, they are inocente."
Jocasta groaned inwardly. The psycho in bloody robes held some stupid adorable child who had gone all lemming, and the man was shouting things and trying to get them to halt a process that they had worked for years to put into place, that could mean the salvation of their people. Fat chance of that. She took a few pushes and came to a stop when his eyes fixed on her. "Not a step more. Not a fucking step!"
"You should accept my friend's offer," the tethered warned, voice low and dangerous. "You may end up only unconscious, then." She rose from her wheeled-chair, pulling upon the Gift. "But you had best release that girl and release her now, because our plan will proceed - we will free ourselves and handle this problem that you have brought to our doorstep - whether one innocent child lives or dies by your hand."
"You are monsters! Dangerous!" He squeezed tighter. Rita, who'd been either brave or in some sort of shock up to now, began to cry.
"No, most tethered are good people," Jocasta countered, "even though you don't treat them like people." She began drawing, then, and kept drawing as only she could. "You've just managed to piss off the one real monster among us."
"Call your people off!" the crazed caretaker screamed. "I don't want to hurt her, but I will! The tethered need to be controlled."
"Wrong!" she snarled. "The tethered need to be treated like human beings!" Her eyes became dangerous. Still, the energy flowed. She was drawing slower now, making a show of it.
"I do not fear death in the service of saving lives!"
It was then that Jocasta saw that he was truly dead to sense. "Oh, I said nothing about killing you," she teased, a dark smile coming to her lips. "Have you ever heard of 'deadening' someone?" She tilted her head to one side, long blond locks sliding that way with the motion and spilling over her shoulder. When he offered no response, she continued. "It's when we use magic to destroy the nerves connecting your brain to your senses. No sight," she chirped, "no hearing, no smell, no taste, no feeling." She hissed the last few words. "But you will be very much alive, mentally, very much able to think and comprehend, and you will be left that way, indefinitely, fed through a tube in your throat."
Her eyes narrowed and she completed drawing. The children rubbed at their temples or their bellies, making whiny noises. She was sorry for it, but it was a small harm. "You will be left that way while I will be busy." She settled back into her wheeled-chair. "While you lie there, going insane, I will find your name in the registry. I will find your family, your friends, women you have loved in the past. I will hunt them down, every one of them, and they will die in agony because of you." She folded her hands upon her lap, "Or, you can just let the little girl go." Jocasta's eyes did not flinch from his. "That is my counteroffer. You have... fifteen seconds to decide."
Ayla made herself look small and non-threatening, reaching her arms out towards Rita. "The niñita is harmless and you are not a monster. You are desperate and upset, but you know better than this, this girl is harmless. Let the girl come to me and you won't be harmed, you will be allowed to leave the Refugio and return to your family. Jo, won't hurt you, she will let you leave... this is your best offer, take it now and run out of here quickly before it is gone." She reached out towards Rita again, her hands encouraging the girl to come towards her, encouraging the man to let the girl go with the promise of freedom. It would be such a simple task to allow Rita to return to Ayla, and he could leave with his life.
I have to hold it together. I have to stay calm. I can't ruin everything my friends have worked for just because it's Rita... Yalen clutched his chest and breathed deep. If he gave in to his emotions now, everything would be lost.
Jocasta's threatening display gave Yalen an opening that he quickly recognized. The moment she began drawing, he was already doing the same. It was his hope that at her full strength, Jocasta's presence would be frightening enough to keep the magpie's senses focused on her. He could already feel his head aching as she approached inhuman levels of Mana.
While Jocasta told the man all about his new life as a vegetable, Yalen stealthily acquired all the energy he needed for his little cantrip. To do so without drawing attention was difficult even with the pressure coming off of his tethered ally. He knew exactly how much he needed, but gathering the necessary power gradually without spiking too quick was a difficult feat. It was possible only because of the unique physiology the two of them shared.
If the man had immediately started cutting throats as soon as Jocasta powered up he might have left his mark, but his hesitation would cost him whatever victory he hoped for. In the middle of Jocasta’s countdown, Yalen suddenly opened the dam and sent the sliver of thermal energy he'd collected straight into the man's knife, heating it to the point where a sensitive human hand would be unable to hold it.
Driven by reflexive instinct, the caretaker's hand opened and he dropped the knife. Realizing his error, he tried to grab hold of the child tightly and make himself inseparable from her before anybody could harm him.
There was no time for patience as the man dropped the knife with a howl, grimacing as he moved to latch upon Rita. The poor girl was too scared out of her mind and she charged forward towards Ayla, not aware of line of sight, just acting frightened and running on pure impulse, not allowing others to seize the opportunity offered. However, with the threat of the knife gone, it gave Ayla and her non-lethal methods the opportunity to act, shouting out towards Rita, "Run!". With the power of the Gift, she propelled the sound like a shockwave, ripping through the air. As the bloodied caretaker moved to grab the escaping girl, the force of the impact caused Rita to lunge backwards like a cannonball, smashing into the man as he hurtled back, caught in the wave of the shockwave himself, slamming right into the wall behind them with an almighty thud. Ayla pulls with her hand as she draws heavily upon Rita's momentum, causing the girl to come to a safe stop, only feeling at worse bruised from her body being used like a weapon. Ayla made her way over to Rita, pulling the girl tightly within her arms and away from the brute. As the man recovered, there would be nothing between him and the tethered pair to use as a shield.
With the magpie now left vulnerable to direct assault, Yalen stepped forward and sent a mental probe towards the overzealous caretaker. He began drawing the metabolic energy out of the man's muscles, depriving them of the fuel necessary to sustain movement. There was a brief moment where he could feel resistance as the magpie's own Manas struggled to resist the offensive draw, but he was a low ranking peon for a reason. Even an average mage like Yalen could eventually overpower him with a strong enough focus.
"Jocasta, we've weakened him considerably. I won't object if you want to deliver punishment upon him, but... can you please take him alive? Killing him in this state would be unjust."
"Yyou ffuckn bassrdss!" The caretaker slurred, control over the muscles even in his mouth reduced. "Yyyer evn ssshhhowngg how yerdangrus!" Then, Jocasta knocked him out. She clapped her hands together twice, like the Warden always did. "Oh wow, kids!" she exclaimed, "what a performance!"
Ayla and Yalen alike could feel her flooding Rita's mind with some calming chemical magic. The blonde girl turned on the spot, offering some applause. "So dramatic!" she enthused.
Then, the caretaker sprung back up. He took a bow and it took the other two students a moment to realize that this was an illusion. Subtly, they could see Jocasta straining to maintain it for this many people from so many angles. "Nothing to be afraid of kids," she assured them, and some clapped hesitantly.
“That was just a show?" remarked one skeptically, raising an eyebrow.
“It was kinda scary," murmured another.
“It was kinda cool!" said another in indirect response, shaming her for being a 'chicken'. "I wasn't scared."
“Neither was I!"
“I wasn't."
“I saw scarier things before." There was a whole chorus of brave, approving kids now.
“Yeah, can I be the one who gets captured next time!"
"I wanna elbow Caretaker Manazes in the gut!"
"It's a performance, stupid. You can't actually hit him."
They were talking again. That was good. "Would Caretaker Manazes like to say anything?" Jocasta asked, voice sweet but strained. Her eyes pointedly found Ayla, begging for some sonic mastery. "Oh, and could anyone help us clean up our props?" she added, looking pointedly at Yalen and where the caretaker's unconscious form lay, hidden from the kids. Of course, about ten of them thrust their hands eagerly into the air, also volunteering without understanding a thing.
Ayla took the cue as she tried to recreate the performance convincingly. "It is important we practice our duck and roll technique with the sand wyrm coming. And you... the one wanting to do the elbowing", leaving enough time to enable Jo to make a characteristic more threatening stance, "Don't make me conveniently forget to call you for dinner. Now to return to my patrol.". She created the best opportunity for the illusion to disappear and then enable a more convenient distraction to allow the real magpie to disappear as well.
As Ayla distracted the kids with more games, she went about trying to secure the space to prevent any more 'drills' on their watch. She quietly spoke to the other two. "Do we need to check on the others, or do they have it in hand?".
While Ayla grabbed the kids' attention with her false impression of the caretaker, Yalen snuck over to where the actual body of Manazes was and hurriedly dragged it away. He had to use some internal chemistry on himself to get the adrenaline flowing, as he wasn't exactly suited for heavy lifting.
After passing the sleeping man to one of the more sympathetic guards just outside the plaza, Yalen returned to the poolside looking a bit haggard. His muscles were hurting now. In spite of this, he put on his best smile and kept up the facade that nothing at all was wrong.
When he returned, the kids appeared to be occupied with whatever new game Ayla came up with to distract them. Ayla and Jocasta were whispering worriedly to each other, leading him to approach the two and squeeze into the conversation.
When Ayla mentioned the others, Yalen looked at Jocasta and spoke in a hushed tone. "That magic you use. The... space-time stuff? Can you use it to observe people remotely?"
Jocasta blinked. "We... can, in theory. I haven't really mastered the art of it, though." She turned to Ayla. "And I suppose we could try to check in on the others with it." She rolled off to the side, then, a bit away from the swimming area, and furrowed her brow in concentration. Around her moved the fabric of space and time. Jocasta reached out for it, finding some of its threads, and started to reel them in. People, long gone, and even glimmers of those yet to come flashed past too quickly to make sense of them. Stone smoothed and cracked with age and wear. Trees grew, sands shifted, voices came and went.
Then, she was in the present and searching. Dully, it occurred to her that she'd forgotten to ask 'who' Yalen had wanted to observe, and she could not do it now, so intense was her concentration. She tried focusing in on the various places visually, without tearing a hole in the fabric so that she could move through to them, but it was hard, and she lost it after a moment. Jocasta blinked and shook her head, taking in and releasing a deep breath. "I fear it is not easy to look without opening a physical path and, in any case, I forgot to ask you who you'd intended to look in upon." She shrugged in apology. "We can always just reach out and sense their energies, too."
It bothered the Djamantese, though, that she could not do it. That was a skill that she would have to practice: practice until she could master it.
Yalen scratched his head nervously. "Ah, the thought merely occurred to me since Ayla showed concern for Zarina and Kaspar. We can indeed check to see if they're still alive from here, but I see there is no way to gauge the success of their mission without going there in person..."
The young priest did not have much of a respite, however. No sooner had he started to turn away than Rita was there. "Mistuh Yawen?" she prodded, tugging on his sleeve. "That wasn't juss a show, was it?" Her face was earnest and implacable. At his momentary discomfiture, she decided to provide more evidence. "Caretaker Manazes nevuh does shows fow us." She shook her head adamantly. Almost as if to underscore the loss of innocence, the sky chose that moment to open up, and the rain went quickly from a few stray drops to a downpour.
Yet, for all that Yalen found himself having to offer a mea culpa or a very convincing lie, things had come together everywhere else. The old regime fell as surely as the rain did, though precisely what shape its replacement would take remained as yet undetermined. For now, Head Ranger Escarra took Warden Ortega's place in the big chair. That he had killed Tavio was revealed only to a select few, and with mixed reactions. The remainder believed him locked in the securest part of the dungeon beneath the Red Tower. Nonetheless, Escarra remained nominally in charge.
There was much to do. All evidence of the uprising was removed, aside from its organizational results: blood scrubbed from tiles, clothes laundered, wounds bound, and the bodies of three staff who had died for various reasons sent to the crematorium along with that of one 'zero' who had breathed his last as the revolution succeeded in freeing his people.
The Tethered who had formerly assisted in bookkeeping now took over the posts of those who they'd worked for. Many of the guards who remained found little change aside from the hovering threat of the Royal Sand Wyrm, maddened by an aberration, lurking somewhere in the desert. The residents swept the endless wastes, in every direction, for hours each day with the Gift. Patrols were sent out. Yet, while it entered their senses from time to time, at the edge of their range, it had not yet approached the Refuge. The place remained true to its name, for the time being, for once.
Two days passed like this, but they were not idle ones. A portal was opened on the first to Ersand'Enise and, with Hugo's silent approval, Ysilla, fallen strangely ill, went home. Three new faces replaced her, and then more familiar ones. The recent arrivals were brought up to speed quickly and then the majority of the students set about training the Tethered to use the mana in their blood and not just to suffer from it. They lived, slept, and worked amongst them under the desert sun. The wyrm would come, sooner more likely than later, and they would need to be ready.
The third day of freedom at San Agustín de las Arenas dawned cool and windy, but it dawned with news. "Jocasta! Jocasta!" shouted Laëlle, hammering on her door. The older girl rolled over in bed and hoisted herself out of it with the Gift. "What is it?" she demanded, "to be waking me up as Ipte is barely over!" She floated over to the door and opened it.
The lord of this region, and solidly a quarter of all Torragon, was on his way. His messenger was nearing the gate and a host of some four thousand soldiers would soon follow: an apparition from the sands, but one all too real. The night guards, ebbing in energy and attention at this hour, had sensed them. This, then, must be Duque Huarcan Frannemas - El Patrón - who they had received furtive warnings about. Yet for all of these, his agenda and his purpose remained variables that they could not truly account for. He would likely not be pleased.
Still worn out from two days of using the full extent of her magic to physically restructure every aspect of the Refuge that created barriers for the non-ambulant, Jocasta stretched and rolled her neck. This was it, then: the reckoning, or at least one of two. "Go tell the others, Laëlle: students, Afortunado, Escarra, and Amanda." She was already getting herself ready, mind racing with scenarios and ideas. "Tell them to be on the staff patio overlooking the Great Bath by... 1:00 Shune, no exceptions." She was already in her day dress. Jocasta allowed herself to settle into her wheeled-chair. "I will meet them there. Time is of the essence."
1) Plenty of socialization opportunities. Did you have any ongoing storylines with refuge residents? Now is the time to wrap them up. Your fellow students are arriving! Interact with them! What new or existing dynamics will be created or revealed?
2) Training montage time! What are you teaching these people? Also, what might you learn from them?
3) What secrets of the Refuge might be revealed, IC, to your character?
4) Any long watches spent scanning for the wyrm? Realistically, this is only Tethered, though you could keep one company!
5) Is there a plan? Do you have ideas? We can gather for the meeting an collaborate on it.
6) Any fallout from the revolution: how about visiting the prisoners, Escarra's murder of Ortega coming to light, the cleanup, and more mundane matters.
After an awkward moment, One eased up. "Apologiesss," he offered, and this was followed by a symphony of apology from the others, including Nine. "We had received a notification that there were othersss in the caves: pirates. It did not come from people whom we trussst."
"It did not," someone echoed.
"A notification."
"Piratesss."
"We don't trussst them." The last was hissed by Nine with uncharacteristic venom. "Kassseels!" A handful of others repeated after her with equal intensity.
"In any event," said One, "I must be on a call with Kassseel One now." He looked distinctly unhappy about it.
"Kassseel One," the others growled.
"Feel free to enjoy the ressst of your dinner."
Nine was quick to distract. She eventually coaxed her sister Ten out of the doorframe and the two of leaned easily against each other, tails flicking back and forth, the elder teasing the younger about her hesitancy to emerge. There were plenty of questions to ask and answer and the sirrahi seemed alright with doing so.
1- "So are you guys from this world?" - Yesss, yes we are, human! 2- "So I noticed your names have a first, middle, and last structure. First is your name you are referred to be differentiated from your middle and last, your Middle seems to be a number which you each use to call each other and even those you are close to, and the last is probably a family name. What does the Number mean?" - Aaah, you asssume too much, Violence Stick. The first is our brood name. Each group of hatchlings has one. The sssecond is the position in which we hatch. The final name is our given name, but it is only used by non-siblings who are close to usss. otherwise, we use our Brood names and numbers. 3- "So Nine I noticed you enjoyed the Black Pudding a lot. Do you like the blood taste? I personally don't like it much, but it's what I know some people like it for." - Yesss. The blood is ssso yummy! Thanks for introducing me to Enthish cuisine. It is so good! 4- "So you talked about the reason why you are down here is because of some All-Knower. Who is this All-Knower?" - It is not 'sssome' All-Knower, human! Have ressspect. The all-knower is ancient. They have been with us sssince the dawn of our societal memory and gifted us a great many things. They know all, often before it happens. They use the sssacred algorithms. 5- "So do you guys normally wear clothing?" - Yesss. What sort of sssavage would not? 6- "How good of swimmers are you guys? I know some snakes are good at swimming, but I'm unsure how that translate upwards in scale." - I am not a snake, sssilly Desmond. But yess, we are... probably as good at ssswimming as we are terrestrially. 7- "So your music seems very different than ours, I also noticed many instruments I've never heard. Are those ones you invented yourselves?" - YASSS! I even play the electric guitar. Not all are instruments, though. Many sssounds are generated by computers. It is a concept that I could not explain to you. They are, in short electronic brains, I sssuppose one could say. 8- "How it is so cool in here? I understand if it is technology and you don't wanna talk about it, but I'm curious because of where we are it would be much warmer" - Caves are cool, Desmond. We are deep underground. That isss the revolutionary technology. 9- "Do you guys have your own language system or is it Avincian?" - We ssspeak whatever the most common tongue isss among other ssspecies. For some time, it has been Avincian. 10- "So how does your reproductive organs work? Can you mate with others like Humans and Yasoi? Or is it 100% within your species?" - I know I am beautiful, Desmond, but I will not mate with you. bessides, we are so far apart on the evolutionary tree that it would be imposssible. Wait... you guysss haven't discovered evolution yet. 11- "Do all of your species live underground? Or do you all live in the little mesh in the ceiling? Hehehe I'm joking about that" - But are you, really? At leassst a tiny part of you thought it. Anywaysss, we mostly live on various islands and in a homeland that you humans and yasssoi have not discovered. 12- "Is there a way for me to maybe, possibly, with permission, somehow, pretty please have a way to listen to music like the way we did down here but in a portable form?" - We shall sssee. Maybe. I could get in trouble. Trypano: "What is your people's belief regarding Death, the cessation of organic function in a sentient being?" - We do not like it. Each thought processs is unique and valuable and offers insssight into the sentient condition. We have conducted resssearch into its cure. Yet, it is sssadly a necessary process within the current paradigm. The carrying capacity of thisss world - how much life it can support - is finite. There are also those whose actions and mindsssets make their lives a threat to other lives.
Then, came Ingrid's questions about... sirrahi culture and romance:
"What are your favorite genre of music?"
"What do you guys fine attractive?"
"Do you kiss?"
"Do you also have trashy romance novels?"
"What's your favorite food?"
At Ingrid's first question, Nine pursed her lips quizzically. "Electronic, mostly," she replied.
"Electronic," echoed some of her siblings enthusiastically.
"Mostly," deadpanned Ten.
"Though I'm not sure how much that might mean to you," the sirrahi clarified. "Think of it as music made using machines instead of instruments."
"Machines."
"Instead of instruments."
The Eskandishwoman asked further questions, and her new... friend answered as best she could. Apparently, nice arms were attractive on a man, sirrahi did kiss, in a sense, and sirrahi romance novels were never trashy but, instead, works of art. There was a pause. "Ingrid?" Nine asked, tilting her head to the side with a cheeky smile, but then closing her mouth, wary of making the humans nervous.
"Ingrid," said another sirrahi.
"Ingrid."
"Ingrid."
"If I did not know any better, I would think that you are 'hitting on' me." She tried the odd human phrase out and then simply couldn't stop a big snakey grin from spreading across her face. "But, um... my favourite food isss... right here in this room, actually. You guessss!" she squealed.
"You guess!"
"Right here!"
Ingrid giggled a bit and looked at Nine. "Well you see, Eskandish people do love getting to know each other through more intimate means."
Both had initially been joking but, after a moment of consideration, were intrigued. Simply put, the sequence led to... what may have been the world's very first human-sirrahi female-female interspecies kiss. "Not bad," Nine mused as they pulled apart. "Does not hurt that you are pretty."
"Not bad," the other sirrahi echoed, and this drew more of them out. They surrounded the humans inquisitively. "I want to kiss a human!" one of her brothers exclaimed, but she shot him down. "I want the yasoi!" said another, and Ismette looked... less so insulted than fairly open to it, actually.
Long story short, it was a good evening, though Penny never made an appearance. The Diskas promised them an escort close to the surface in the morning, though it was impossible to say what time it was beneath the ground like this. When they were led to their rooms down a hallway similar to the one they'd been in, care was taken to keep their prying eyes away from technological secrets. The issue was that it wasn't so much 'rooms' as 'a room'. There was a single enormous circular bed in the middle, its mattress made not of hay nor down, but of some unknown substance that was at once gloriously soft and perfectly supportive. With a final wave from Nine, the group was left to their own devices. Ismette threw herself back onto the bed, sighing. "You can all sleep on the floor," she teased, "I claim it!" and she began undressing.
"So you just gonna strip?" Benny interjected.
"Pretty much," Ismette replied. "I sleep in the buff, you know."
Benedetto's eyes wandered momentarily to her chest, still covered in a light chemise, but he quickly pulled them away.
"I'm just fucking with you," she laughed, "Ipte! Don't get a stiffy." Dressed in something like a nightgown but too short to be one, she sat up and swept some hair over a shoulder. One way or another, the group found sleep that night, of varying quality.
It was difficult to tell what time it was, but Ismette did not feel rested when she awoke to find Nine gently shaking her. The sirrahi seemed to have recently-dried tears in her eyes. "Friend," she said, and there was nobody there to echo her. It felt... oddly lacking.
Ismette blinked. "What's up?"
"You are naked."
"Aw shit." The yasoi covered herself up.
"Ismette."
"Yeah, what's going on?"
"We have not been totally honessst with you."
"No shit."
Nine hung her head for a moment, but then she continued. She seemed to have some fire in her eyes. "There is a war among my people right now: it is not a 'hot war' but a 'cold one'. The other group here: the Kassseels, they are from the other ssside. They view your peoples as 'lesssser races' and -"
"What are you trying to justify, Nine?" There was no annoyance or accusation in Ismette's voice. She simply wanted to know.
Nine's face became serious. She expelled air from her nose. "Trypano mentioned a woman with one leg. The Kasseels have her. They have blocked off her magic and they are going to kill her."
There was more. Nine was an empathetic being. Ismette could sense it. She could also sense that something further was wrong, even without the Gift. "What else, Nine?"
The Sirrahi worked her jaw back and forth and looked away for a moment. "It wasn't humans," she said, in a quiet, angry voice.
"What wasn't humans?" the yasoi prodded, sitting up, careful not to disturb the others. Desmond was rolling over, though, Trypano was already sitting up, and Ingrid had opened her eyes. Benedetto was sprawled across half the bed, still asleep.
"Who killed my sissster." Nine clenched and unclenched her fists. "It was the Kasssseels." Tears formed in the corners of her eyes. "They murdered her for going up to the surface and made it look like the humansss to cover up their crime. We have jussst learned this." The sirrahi took a handful of deep breaths, addressing everyone now that they were awake. "I am sssory." she bowed low. "I do not want to drag you into my fight. Thisss is why I talked to Ismette." She turned to the yasoi. "I know how you feel about violence. I am angry. Thisss is more anger than I have ever felt and I do not know what to do about it." She was still wearing her 'hair', and she tossed it over a shoulder. "I hate them!" she hissed. "For a sirrahi to kill in cold blood isss.... unthinkable. We have... weapons for our protection, but we are not much in the habit of using them, not the civilized people on my ssside anyways."
"So what are you saying?" Benny croaked, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. A dark sort of light came into them. "You want us to kill those fuckers for you?" He grinned.
"Why are you happy about death!?" Nine squeaked.
"Won't you be happy when the Kasseels are dead?" he replied, tilting his head to one side.
"I do not know," replied the the sirrahi anxiously. "I do not know what I will feel, only that I cannot jussst let them.... get away with this!"
Benedetto stood, his face serious for once, and placed a hand on her shoulder. "That's called revenge, Nine, and it's something I'm very familiar with."
"It's a dark emotion," warned Ismette. "Acting upon it rarely leaves one better off."
"You don't care about Penny, then?"
"You don't," Ismette shot back, and a mix of the others' and Nine's intervention was required to cool things off.
"For what it is worth, Ismette," the sirrahi remarked, "One agreed with you. He wanted to negotiate with the Kasseels, but his blood runs too cold and he does not see that you cannot negotiate with people who murder your sister." She regarded the others. "I believe that this 'revenge' is something I need, and I cannot let anything happen to the friend of my friends. The Kasseels have killed enough."
"So uh... one small problem," observed Benedetto. "We don't have the Gift here."
"No, you don't," admitted Nine, furrowing her brow. "Not in here, and you won't in their base either, not unless you shut down or destroy the emitters. I will seek to do that. In the meantime, I mentioned that we still had weapons." She nodded matter-of-factly, drawing up taller on her coils. "I can help you save your friend. You can help me have revenge."
This was done without the approval of One, Two, Three, Six, and Eight. Ten slithered up alongside them, as well as Four and Five. They made their way stealthily through the hall. "The Kasseels are many," Ten said with concern. "They use artificial means to increase their numbers. There are twenty of them in this little outpost."
"Twenty of them," echoed Five.
"Artificial means," said Four and Nine.
Then, they were in the armoury, Nine having pressed some strange species of card to the lock mechanism in order to open it. The variety and advancement of the weaponry present was breathtaking. Desmond, in particular, had ascended to fifth heaven. The five humans and yasoi equipped themselves with a form of armour known as bulletproof vests, and the following weapons:
Nine took a submachine gun, a pistol, and a sword. Her brothers and sister armed themselves too, and all learned that, just because the sirrahi abhorred violence did not mean that they didn't train - extensively - in the use of weapons. "Now," their host said, screwing a silencer onto her pistol. "Let usss go: quickly and quietly, like a human ssstriking in the night."
"Quickly and sssilently," echoed Four and Five. "Like a human."
"That does not work so well with actual humans here, sissster," observed Ten.
Nine blinked. "No, I sssupose it does not." She turned to the group. "Sssorry, humans." She blushed.
They slipped out through a small side door, with another one of those card taps and a blinking light that went from red to green. Then, they were in a long, hollowed out hallway of stone, hewn from the rock and evidently quite old. There were occasional faint lights along its length, and then a great steel door at the end. Nine fished a key from her pocket instead, and it rattled in the lock as the door opened. "Keep your eyes sharp and your witsss about you," she warned. "We are in the cave now. It is not our friend."
"In the cave now."
"Wits about you."
"Not our friend."
Nine had given them each a thing called a flashlight and, as the five youths left the underground compound of the Diskas, they could feel the Gift returning to them. They could feel the magnetic currents flowing, as if in controlled lightning inside these devices. The lead sirrahi twisted back at them knowingly and smiled. "I hope for the day when your peoplesss can use these freely." Her siblings repeated after her in nervous chorus.
They crept, then, with guarded silence, through the dark caverns, and the smell of sulfur and a faint heat grew stronger. Nine was reaching in her mouth, now, and so were her siblings. "Milking our venom," she explained in a low whisper. "We may need it."
Ten dutifully whispered a repetition. Then, they saw it in the distance: a glow, as if from some sort of artificial light. It was some thirty yards distant, around a shallow bend. Desmond held up a hand for them to stop simultaneously with Nine. "That will be their door," the latter whispered.
"Their door." Hatred had returned to her face, and determination.
"They will have a camera: one of those artificial eyes I told you about, that they can all see through if they look on a screen." The group had witnessed a screen: a wondrous device that was like an arcane illusion, but a perfect reproduction, and using a machine instead of The Gift. "When you enter, you will lose the Gift. Right now, though, can you kill that camera or use your... illusions to trick it?"
"Then," breathed Ten, drawing near to the front, "we will enter. We will go in 'hot', claim your friend, and have revenge for Seven."
"Revenge."
"Your friend."
"For Seven," they all said together, making that same strange gesture they had made hours ago when the students had first arrived. Nine held up a hand, her other cradling a gun. Five fingers stood up, then four.
@jdh97 Overall, I like him and he works. Your prose is as evocative as ever and he holds some nice nuance. A few little nitpicks below:
1) There's no 'K' in the transliteration of yasoi to the Avincian alphabet.
2) Have a look at some of the yasoi names in discoveries on the discord for some idea of the sound of them and maybe try to carry these through to the cognomen and surname. Triple consonants are rare except when necessary to make at least two different sounds that could not be made a simpler way.
3) Just be a bit wary of how you frame Vyshta. She's not so much a war goddess as one of fortune: luck, essentially.
4) Anything else about how he uses the Gift? And favoured moves, proclivities, or quirks? Feelings toward it?
@Suicharte I believe that we covered everything in Discord. Welcome aboard with either or both characters once you've looked a those couple of little things.
Location: The Crows' Nest // Date: February 25, 2057 // Time: 8:55 // Interactions: Vincent, Akaia, Poppy, Indigo
Lysandra had been surprised to be among those chosen to leave the Crows' Nest. Strictly speaking, it made little sense given that she could be of far more use at her work table than out in the field. She'd be out there again, though, doing something new, seeing a new place and people she hadn't met before.
By the time that the alarm went off, Lys was already heading out the door. She had assumed and made an ass of 'u' and 'me'. She had equipment to prep, things to pack, the mistle to check, and projects to tuck safely away. The sound only made her hurry even more. Scrubbing speed with her gloved palms, she pulled up to her door, opened it, and raced inside. In seconds, her headset was on and Guardian's controller was in her lap. The drone burst out of its cubby on the rooftop and then its cameras were her eyes.
Below, Vincent had burst through a window for reasons unknown. Idiot, Lys thought. Akaia popped her head out and... then right back in. Poppy appeared.
Standing in front of the Crows' Nest was a tall, shaggy vagrant who... was not a Lost, at least. They had people like this come by from time to time, either begging for blood beads or trying to steal them. If this one was a thief then he - or she? Lys wondered - was not a very good one. She kept her fingers light on the controller and kept Guardian moving, well away from any structures, the drone's weapons systems aimed and ready. You never knew what kind of abilities Revenants might have and this one had somehow made it past the outer layer of sensors undetected. Vincent was already asking questions, so she decided not to. "What he said: your name and your business here," she demanded into her headset's mic. Guardian's speakers repeated it. "I'm glad this thing can't smell."
3) Just wanted to have everything on the table and, if it's something that you went into with full knowledge of how it might play out, we're cool! I'm hoping we can maintain an authentic voice on this and have it be an intriguing, fulfilling, and thought--provoking character plot or subplot.
@jdh97 Okay, sorry for taking so long with this. Life has kept me plenty busy. Below are some questions, suggestions, and ideas regarding your character sheet.
1) Nice prose and evocative imagery. I appreciate the way that you pose questions, rhetorical or otherwise.
2) Revidian as opposed to Rividian.
3) Be aware that, in Quentic Constantian society, there is room for quite a bit in terms of hetero/homosexuality and even polygamy in some interpretations. However, a gender binary nonetheless exists and is strongly normative, as reflected in each of the gods having two aspects: male and female. A character who doesn't clearly fit either acknowledged gender may either simply have their gender and sex assumed or, in some cases, be a point of scrutiny. Overall, we're not dealing with modern western or indigenous conceptions of gender here and I want these interactions to be played out authentically or not at all.
4) "That doesn’t mean the downward spiral doesn’t lie in wait for Vieri elsewhere, it’s just so hard to tell where the ice is thin." - Love the way that you put this.
5) An 8.0 even is boring. We already have a few who are right on the number, too. Maybe an 8.12 or an 8.07, or something along those lines?
6) Avince is the capital of the old empire (think analogous to Rome), so that might be cool to play around with. It's also the seat of the Optimate, head of the Quentic faith: a place where piety, power, and desire meet, intermingle, and clash.
6) lo (place name) type names would very much mark one out as common as opposed to being among the merchant or noble classes and would close some doors. This is something that your character and their parents would be aware of, having grown up in this world.
@Suicharte Just finished reading this CS in its entirety and it was a really good read. Overall, your self-criticism, though perhaps motivating, is entirely unwarranted. Dietrich is an awesome character. Feel free to play him. Below, are some observations, suggestions, and ideas that I came up with as I read.
1) "He began to see the Quentic faith as not a guiding light for those lost as he once did as a child, but as a controlling, overbearing arm of the Parrench which would one day pick up his peoples kingdoms and shovel it into the mouth of their ever expanding domain." - I love this image!
2) In general, I love his mindset and the nuance of his character. He defies reductive classification and reads as very 'noble'.
3) "They sought an apt educator, and looked to the north in Parrench, who had access to the knowledge of old." - Small matter: he demonym is Parrench but the country is Parrence.
4) Written convention in Sipenta is for the Gift to always be capitalized.
5) Drudgunze is the region, Drudgunzean would be the demonym.
6) "Casts spells in Avincean rather than his mother tongue. Is also his preferred language, believes it to be more fitting of high society." - I like this detail!
7) "His home duchy is known for its often chaotic weather, hence the name of Sturmfeld." - Appreciated this detail as well. Also, maybe somewhere coastal, then?
8) Given the day and age and what a cane would've symbolized to people of the early medieval ages, I wonder if there isn't a better item that could be used to reflect his noble decadence, act as a focus, and not make him seem to be elderly or infirm.
Overall, I'm thrilled to have Dietrich aboard. If you were still going to make a second character sheet - for an Eskandr-aligned yasoi, iirc - feel free to do so and I'll review that as well. What you have here is excellent as well, though.
The shockwaves of Horik's final explosion tore across the Witch Wood, burning and toppling trees, consuming the slow and the wounded, blinding and deafening others. As fire rolled into smoke and smoke cleared, they stumbled around dully in the aftermath, skin peeling, ears ringing, eyes bleary. Among them were three yasoi: Otios, Talit, and Lyen, who knelt towards the edge of the scorched ground, healing themselves with the blood magic of the Gift. Still, lay the forest around them: still and oddly silent. A persistent rain fell and thunder rumbled in the clouds, but the sounds of open combat had fallen precipitously away.
In the trees and on the patches of dry ground, the yasoi allies of Parrence and elements of that new nation's Grand Armee exulted in their triumph. That the latter had overcommitted to the battle north of the town was perhaps clear, but they had achieved what they'd set out to do, or so they believed...
Kol, Death's Hand_________ __ __ _ _
Sometimes, the Gods demanded sacrifice before one passed through the great doors of Gronhalle, and they had demanded much of the Eskandr who had ventured into the Witch Wood. That they had been decimated was a certainty, now. The Parrench and their yasoi allies were even now gloating and glorying in their apparent victory. Yet the first of the raid's two purposes had been served. An inordinate number of Parrench forces had committed themselves north of the city and, by doing so, left the beach that much less defended.
With what forces they had left, Kol and Vali, who had yet survived everything that yasoi and Parrench alike had thrown at them, now abandoned conventional tactical wisdom and raced across the open fields towards the Northwest Gate. On the way, they passed burning windmills and ruined farmsteads. The former whirling madly in the wind, their arms smoldering, phantasmal, against the dark sky, leaving sparks and black smoke to swirl away in the wind.
The brave warriors of this much-reduced force had seen the massive beam of red light that had leapt into the sky and heeded it. All of their forces were ashore, but the king of kings had judged that an absolute victory was now in doubt and that the bold plan they had conceived of the week before was to be put into action. It fell to them to go straight at the less-defended gate and hammer it hard enough to make the Parrench panic. Meanwhile, Sweyn would strike with his lightning at the cathedral where many civilians would be sheltering, Thorunn would make for the Parrench camps, via trickery if needed, and set them alight. Hrothgar would gather the troops into a wedge to break through at all costs.
The Nashorn would be used.
Many were those who shuddered to think of that. The truth, however, was that, should this attack fail, the offensive itself would fail and the Eskandr might yet be hurled back into the sea. So it was that Kol, Vali, and the elite warriors and rangers remaining from the force that had scaled the cliffs and assaulted the Witch Wood had a purpose now, part of a larger plan: assault the gate, force the enemy to panic, force them to withdraw to the city so that the Eskandr might yet win the day.
Under the Walls_________ __ __ _ _
Every Eskandr who was going to land had landed. Now it was simply a case of army against army, champion against champion. There were none greater than the two kings themselves, or so history would later record. Arcel the Blessed of Parrence and Hrothgar the Black of Eskand stood under the walls of Relouse and sized each other up.
Arcel stood for but a moment, Sanguinaire incandescent in his left hand, steam hissing and rising off of it from the violent clash of heat and water. "Get your filthy hide off of Parrench soil, heathen. Your foul tricks are as nothing before the power of Shune's Light!" He pointed the legendary sword at Hrothgar, the air around him crackling with arcane energy, and advanced. "Fight me!" he bellowed.
Hrothgar's glare fixed upon the young king and his lips formed a thin line. Wordlessly, he drew a dozen longships to splinters and stalked forward, the very fabric of reality seeming to roil and warp as he moved.
So focused was Arcel on his adversary that he did not notice the blur that hurtled at him from the side until there was no time left to dodge it. Something plowed into Arcel with unbelievable force, so much so that there was flash and it continued unimpeded in the slightest.
Hrothgar's energy instead went into a massive red beam that pierced the very clouds far above, visible for many miles distant. Then, the Parrench king was behind him, materializing as if out of thin air. Sanguinaire slashed for his head and only a massive, rapid drawing of Force from it was able to stall the murderous swing enough for the Eskandr to dodge.
Meanwhile, the blur that had looked to have hammered Arcel from existence moments ago spent its energy instead on the shield wall of his soldiers, resolving itself into an unusually large and heavily-armoured man as it smashed through. Only, it was... not so much a man as an animal in the shape of one.
The giant let loose an inarticulate howl and everyone with even the slightest notion of The Gift could feel a massive intake of Force energy. His colossal, rounded helm with its great, sharpened horn, his massive pauldrons, hulking breastplate, and brutal greaves, boots, and gauntlets clanked and groaned with the sheer power of it.
Arcel paid him little heed. Hrothgar was trying to hit him with lightning but, once again, the Parrench king simply disappeared and reappeared quite far away. A wide, flat beam of brilliant blue-white light leapt from Sanguinaire, slicing at an angle through his adversary and the ground behind him.
With a grin, Hrothgar dematerialized and appeared some ways to the left, unleashing a pummeling burst of Force magic that pounded into Arcel and caused him to stagger back even as he absorbed most of it.
The giant Eskandr who had intruded on their battle was not finished, however. Putting the energy he'd gathered to use, he plowed back through the battle lines, decimating further Parrench fighters in addition to a few from his own side who were slow to remove themselves from his path. He came to a stop, smashing down a tree that had sprouted on the beach mere hours ago and shaking his head as if to clear it. The brute raised his arms, broken chains dangling from the manacles about his wrists, and continued to run rampant about the battlefield at extreme speed, plowing into people and objects alike, seemingly at random.
The brave men and women of Parrence surged forward to try to plug the gap in their lines, but the Eskandr formed themselves into an enormous human arrowpoint and rushed through. So busy was Arcel fighting against Hrothgar that there was little he could do. The elder king found himself hard-pressed to ward off his younger adversary's rapid-fire attacks.
The defenders of Relouse had also met with success, closing their lines, but a group of their enemies had already mushroomed through the opening. Instead of trying to attack them from behind, however, some of these gathered their Force energy and leapt, in a tightly packed group, onto the battlements near the Harbour Gate, aiming to wreak havoc. Others continued on, making a break for the Grand Armee's camp and the infirmary.
Thorunn Silverhair_________ __ __ _ _
Near the head of this group, by design, was Thorunn Silverhair, Princess of Hegelich and third among the Æresvaktr. Still, despite her healing, her side burned with discomfort where that Laughing Knight had speared her with his lance of light. Still, despite how easily she had killed many Parrench, she could hear his mockery: his hooting, hollering laughter. She had a job to do, though. She had targets. The battle would hinge on this and it would be good to have something to take her anger out upon. She made for the camp and the infirmary, already drawing all of the energy that she could and racing ahead of the others.
Up ahead lay a small river and a series of tents beyond it. Thorunn did not bother with the bridges, where she might be easily intercepted. Spending a small portion of Force energy, she pushed off and leapt clear to the other side. The fox is among the hens now, she thought, with a wicked grin. Soldiers were closing on her already. She breathed fire at their faces and watched them writhe and scream like human torches. Stalking through the camp, she drew so great an amount of energy it was as if the rain itself was not even falling around where she stood. Then, with a gleeful and girlish laugh, she unleashed, and things began to burn.
The Nashorn and the Laughing Knight_________ __ __ _ _
The great beast of a man who had smashed the Parrench lines was known as The Nashorn, and this human rhinoceros was far from finished in his work. He charged about the battlefield, glorying in his strength and brutalizing all who tried to stand up to him. Lightning, he outran, Force and Arcane, he absorbed. Chemical only seemed to increase his fury. Nobody could get a fix on him for any sort of Blood drawing.
Then, a knight in colourful armour appeared to his side and, by the time that the Nashorn had committed to swatting him out of the way, he was at the giant's other side and... all around him... laughing. "Too slow, big guy!" he taunted, "too stupid!" The Eskandr responded with a shockwave that left a crater in the ground around him, but the Laughing Knight absorbed the portion of the unfocused attack which would've harmed him and thrust a stiletto into the armour gap under the Nashorn's armpit.
For his efforts, he was flung away like so much scrap, but he rolled and landed in a crouch, his massive opponent barreling after him. A blinding flash of light made the beast stumble, and then the laughing knight was gone. "Hoohoohoo!" echoed his voice. "Hahaha! So weak!" he taunted, "so predictable!"
The Nashorn continued to charge after him, being drawn ever further from the battle, for as long as Sir Rodric Danneman of Lindermetz could occupy him.
Sweyn Thunderspear_________ __ __ _ _
Yet, while some shifted away from the battle, others moved towards it. The Parrench found their northwest gates under attack and their camp burning as Thorunn Silverhair and a handful of her elite warriors of Hegelich moved through it. On the beach, their forces were still trying to recover the ground they'd had to give in order to plug the gap in their lines. Their backs were now against the river as forces came trickling in from the direction of the Witch Wood to reinforce them. These, however, had to fight their way through the Eskandr first and, for all the attempts of the knights to rally them to charge as one, they continued to crash, piecemeal, against the Eskandr shield walls and be spent. If Arcel had Hrothgar personally on the back foot, the Eskandr king of kings seeming to be in a desperate fight for his life, one sensed that it was only a ploy to lure the younger man into a dastardly trap.
All throughout the battle, as the weather had turned foul and a storm raged, Eskandr shamans, warlocks, and druids had been drawing from its power, unleashing massive lightning attacks that blasted, burned, and spidered across the forces and fortifications of their enemies. Unbeknownst to most of the Parrench, however, was that the majority of this fury from the sky had come by the hands of one man, first among the Æresvaktr: Sweyn Thunderspear.
Levitating through the air, it snapped and hummed about him as he neared the walled town from his hiding place along the cliffs. With a resigned sense of duty, he felt the energies of the thousands who dwelt within and, before long, had seized upon a large cluster that could only be a thousand or more souls huddled in one of those Quentic temples. Mother, forgive me, thought the aged warlock, but then he drew from the storm, hardened his heart, and continued to draw until he swelled with such power that it demanded to be released. He closed his eyes for a moment, felt for the structure containing those energies, and let loose.
Eleanor de Perpignan_________ __ __ _ _
Eleanor had felt it: dozens of lives snuffed out in an instant, within yards of each other, and she knew that a great wickedness was afoot. Battered and exhausted from a hundred fights - many of which had not been her own - the Queen of the Parrench hefted her shield and hammer and made for where she had felt the impossible surge of energy from. "Echeran empower me," she murmured aloud, "Oraphe keep me," she breathed, stalking forward, drawing on the Force of the rain to propel her body faster, and faster still. "Dami guide me."
The Eskandr were on all sides of Relouse now, wreaking havoc, and it came to her clearly that they could be hurled back into the sea no longer. They city could be spared, though. It could yet stand if all committed themselves to its defense. That included her. That included facing down whatever Thunder-wielding monster was hurling lighting bolts into the roofs and walls where her people waited and prayed. The city could not fall. She would not let it. So help her, Pentad, she would fight to her dying breath and after, were it possible, to protect them.
There, hovering above an open field between two windmills, she came upon him: the legendary warlock known as Sweyn Thunderspear and she was, once again, a twelve-year-old girl along with her father's embassy, watching a demonstration of his unfathomable power. Eleanor took a deep breath, counseling herself that fear would do her no service here, and casting about hopefully for the allies who would give her yet a chance of surviving this encounter. "Sweyn!" she roared, in Avincian that she knew he understood, "This is madness! They are innocents! Have you truly fallen so far!?"
With a tilt of his head, the Thunderspear turned to face her.
Talit'yrash'osmax_________ __ __ _ _
Tali heard them faintly, at first, then ever louder: the horns, three blasts. Then, again, a few seconds later. It was General de Montblaise. He was... calling a retreat to the city. She'd been struggling to keep up with the others on this treacherous ground, enhancing herself regularly with Force energy as the tips of her crutches sunk into the mud.
That sound, however, brought the one-legged woman to a stop. She reached out with her senses, turning on the spot, and she could feel it: Eskandr at the Northwest Gate. They had broken from the Witch Wood and run, using the haze of ambient energy from Horik's final detonation to cover their energies. They were exchanging fire with the defenders, harrying them, and it occurred to her that it was further diversion. It was part of their plan: give the impression of grater numbers and penetration than you actually had. It was not an Eskandr trick, in truth, but a yasoi one. Great-grandfather had taught her and her brother about how it had been used by their people many times throughout history. Talit fidgeted in place for a moment, taking a half-step one way and then casting about. "Those Eskandr!" she shouted, "they're at the gates! They're trying to trick us, make us retreat! We need to get rid of them!" She could not wait to see who came with her and who did not, however. The triple horn blast had already signaled a retreat to the fortified town, and hundreds of yasoi and Parrench would be pouring towards that gate. Her realization had come a minute too late. It was futile. These canny savages had extricated themselves from the nearly closed jaws of defeat and were perhaps headed even for a costly victory: a feat that she was all too familiar with.
Waves of anxiety washed up and down the yasoi's body and she began to run, feeling the wind whoosh past her ears, her hair flutter behind her, lashing at her neck and shoulders. Tali began to gather energy, to prepare herself to fight again. Yet, when she had drawn closer and reached out to sense the Eskandr, she could not find them. It was if they had run, blended in with her allies in some sort of ruse, or simply disappeared...
Summary The battle has reached its seeming climax. Many of the major players have met in combat, with both sides scoring their share of victories. While the Parrench and allies have proven victorious in the Witch Wood, it is but one small part of a larger game/ Their energies temporarily covered by Horik's final blast, Kol and his allies have moved on to press the Parrench elsewhere at Hrothgar's signal. Hard-pressed on the beach, the king of kings has implemented his secret plan, calling in the powerful and nigh-uncontrollable Nashorn and putting a number of his elites into positions where they can have an outsized impact. Thorunn Silverhair ravages the Parrench army camp and infirmary, Kol harries the Northwest Gate, and Sweyn Thunderspear striked inside the walls at the cathedral where over a thousand commonfolk huddle in terror. With Hrothgar personally occupying the most valuable Parrench strategist in the form of Arcel, it has fallen to general de Montblaise to make the calls. Feeling that his forces are being overwhelmed, he has called for a retreat to the city. The Eskandr cannot be prevented from landing but, with a focused defense, it can yet be saved.
1) Thorunn is wreaking havoc in the camp and infirmary. Anybody in that area may stand up to her if they so choose. It is strongly advised not to try to solo her. Any Eskandr or allies may assist her.
2) Sweyn is facing off against Eleanor. She could use some help (so might he).
3) In general, a retreat to the city walls has been called. Have your characters react to it from both sides as it begins. How do they feel?
4) All characters injured in the previous round are considered healed by the end of this one if they recieve any attention. If not, they are at least conscious walking wounded.
5) The Nashorn and the Laughing Knight are engaged. Help the one who's on your side!
6) Help the wounded!
7) A group of Eskandr have leapt the walls. These are elite warriors with the Gift. If you're Parrench or aligned, fight them! If you're Eskandr, join them or aid them!
8) Kol, Vali, and crew are lurking near the Northwest Gate, but they've disappeared from people's senses substantially. What is their plan? What are they up to?
Eskandr 1) Horik the Golden: killed 2) Hrolf Bloodaxe: killed 3) Ulfhild Ulven: wounded 4) Olaf the Aged: wounded
Parrench 1) Armand de Morilles: killed 2) Arnaud the Aheri: wounded 3) Lyen'Ivhere'Zulc: wounded 4) Caelum of Oraphe: wounded 5) Gerard Castello: wounded
Coming soon if needed
1) Sweyn Thunderspear - attacking St. Defrois Cathedral, approached by Queen Eleanor de Perpignan 2) The Nashorn - engaged in combat with Sir Rodric, the Laughing Knight towards the beach 3) Thorunn Silverhair - burning the encampment and infirmary 4) Olaf the Aged - wounded in an inconclusive fight with Arnaud, the Aheri, almost fully healed 5 - PC) Kol, Death's Hand - harassing the West Gate as part of the master plan, suddenly dropped off of the radar 6) Gudrid Fangtooth - unseen this battle 7) Bjørn Coldfist - unseen this battle 8) Horik the Golden - killed in battle against Otios, Lyen, and Talit 9) Brunhilde of Hegelo - unseen this battle 10) Hrolf Bloodaxe - killed in battle against Camille de la Saumarre
KING) Hrothgar the Black - engaged in combat with Arcel de Parrence PC) Vali the Twice-Born - harassing the West Gate as part of the master plan, suddenly dropped off of the radar PC) Ulfhild Ulven - at the far south end of the Beach, wounded and unconscious. To awaken and be healed this round. PC) Hildr the Red - on the beach, involved in the Breakthrough, generally at large.
Oh gee! An age and a gender and interests and things. Yeah, I have those. Ain't no way I'm about to trigger an existential crisis by typing them all out, though. You can find out what a nerd I am on discord, okay?
Stay awesome, people.
<div style="white-space:pre-wrap;">Oh gee! An age and a gender and interests and things. Yeah, I have those. Ain't no way I'm about to trigger an existential crisis by typing them all out, though. You can find out what a nerd I am on discord, okay?<br><br>Stay awesome, people.</div>
Fallenreaper
Emeth
BlackRoseSiren
Ti
Not a Sayan
Echotech71
FourtyTwo
