HereComesTheSnow

ArrowFell: The Wizard Queen's Court

oh boy, a crossroads moment. how will we maintain our convenient neutrality, boss?

ArrowFell: The Wizard Queen's Court

raiden huh

there’s no rule saying an italian can’t be jetstream sam…

ArrowFell: The Wizard Queen's Court

Where's Vespucci

@Click This

on the next boat

ArrowFell: The Wizard Queen's Court

couple of handsome fellas right there

also perfectly fitting that Aubri's halfway to Heartbreaking: The Worst Person You Know Just Made A Great Point territory with his expression, given how much he's going to be trapped in conversations involving Amerigo in some way

ArrowFell: The Wizard Queen's Court

Amerigo Spadoni

At Sea, Nearing Hathforth's Harbor, Present Day
@AWildSquirtle

---

"On the wind? About that, amico." he grinned, jerking his head with a churlish leer back towards the foremast close by, sturdy square rig bulging outward as the breeze it had caught pushed them ever closer. His meaning was obvious. "We're in the wrong spot for me to tell you any more than 'salt', 'spray', maybe 'seaweed'. We'd have to be coming from the north for me to know more— we're windward of the city at present. They'd be smelling us coming."

He snickered, evidently satisfied with this moment of playing gadfly. Aubri was ostensibly his boss for their purposes on the expedition, but over the long months at sea the pair had naturally developed a more genuine friendship— swapping stories, drinks, and of course (for Amerigo anyway, he liked keeping himself occupied) whatever spare work needed doing around the boat. They still had their roles to fill, sure, but the Brother felt lax enough after so much time literally stuck on the same boat that he really felt no impulse not to needle in these ways, humorous, harmless.

In saying that, he didn't take much issue with the question raised— he was a swordsman first and tactician second, but both clades still more than recognized the value in the conversation at hand were they any good— any appraisal of a situation you could take from afar you could carry with you as you sailed into it. And for all Amerigo admittedly enjoyed those times where the wise man valued leaping above looking, this was not one such— it wasn't like they needed immediacy. The boat wasn't going any faster.

So, they'd put their silver heads together while they waited to even catch sight of port. The keen steel knives of his gaze returned out to the city ahead, and the cheek in his tone gave way to an undercurrent of anticipation.

"That said, by the time we get there I don't believe it will matter overmuch for our immediate purposes— it will have already spread enough, riding this wind we come in on, that the fire itself will be the point of opportunity. Look at the smoke." he continued, pointing with a black gloved finger towards the rolling cloud as he stalked forward and leaned over the rail to get the prow out of view. "See how white it is? That means it's mainly going to be burning wood, and wet wood at that— lot of steam buildup, and with this wind it's getting enough breath to not turn black and thick. Probably the closest spots to shore, getting the most spray from winds like ours. Heading takes us right into port, so that would mean it rolls up into..."

He paused, cupping his chin with thumb and forefinger as he consulted the memory of an old map of Hathfoth's layout, one he had made sure to pore over well before they had even set off from the Republic's port. His gaze narrowed as the connections built along his mind's eye. Supposing this was an attack, and his information wasn't too out of date...

"Hohohohoho, merda." he murmured, in that dark-humored way only a gruesome situation could really invoke. "I won't lie, we're looking at a lot of bodies, Aubri. In Hathforth, the merchant districts are just off port and pier: plenty of stalls of tinder and cloth to catch and jump between on both the North and South Pearls, alongside the quaint little shops and restaurants and inns— more wood, more food, even some booze to burn— plenty of fuel to build as the wind carries it north."

Bad enough on their own. A merchant district would likely always be bustling with activity, its regular flow of commerce the lifeblood of the city's economy. A lot of people would be down there at this hour getting food, let alone perusing the wares for whatever the hell they might— depending on the crowd that day, the disaster could already have a heavy human toll from those two alone. But a fire was never known to stay put to either of them, and with Amerigo's point regarding the breeze already well illustrated twice over...

"That takes it right into Upper Bristol. Historically the poorest district within the walls— a lot of tents, a lot of run-down buildings, and a lot of people on the city's lowest rungs, stuck trying to clear out of the tight and most likely messy streets. That's going to be a lot of people trapped, a lot of people burning, and a lot of panic at the castle's doorstep. Containment and rescue efforts ought to need all the help they can get. Even if it's burned-out by the time we moor, which..."

He squinted, then clicked his tongue.

"...I don't really see happening, all able bodies that can either battle the blaze or pull people out of it are going to be in high demand." he finished, before finally turning to face Aubri again. "One thing my father always taught me? There are few better ways to say 'hello' than with a favor already under your belt before you even meet."

ArrowFell: The Wizard Queen's Court

And he came to life on New Years. Thematic!

ArrowFell: The Wizard Queen's Court

the people demand the cyclops

ArrowFell: The Wizard Queen's Court

Fire catalyzes change and with change comes opportunity and opportunity's what we diplomancers seize, now drive me closer so I can start handing out marshmallows I stole from the galley

ArrowFell: The Wizard Queen's Court

i may have forgotten how to write for a second there

ArrowFell: The Wizard Queen's Court

Amerigo Spadoni

At Sea, Nearing Hathforth's Harbor, Present Day
@AWildSquirtle

---

"Well, this is a fine start."

The journey, as so many of them were when one decided to cross the vast, untamed wilds of the open sea, had been an arduous one. Eclipsing two months and well on its way into the third when the Arrowfellian coastline rolled into view from behind the horizon, the lone galleon rode a steady northerly breeze towards Hathforth from that morning into the day, abuzz with the excited chatter of a crew and cargo pleased to see the finish line at long last. It was clear that, no matter how salty a man of the Republic might be, dry, solid land (likely at least a little less populated by monsters) was a sight for sore eyes.

An idle ear aboard would doubtless be able to leaf through the dozen different back-and-forth talks going on while the deckhands toiled, topics as numerous as you liked, and inane as all working men enjoyed— what some remembered of the local fare from the last time they had made this voyage for trade, rumors about the Wizard-Queen shouting apart the previous ruler with a devilish war cry cloaked in occult force, theories for how one might quickest adjust to their balance no longer needing to sway with the seas. Others still kept these contemplations to themselves, and simply willed the sails to hopefully catch just a little extra wind now that they were in the home stretch.

One such man as this stood upon the forecastle, just behind the prow, arms folded as his silver hair danced in the breeze pushing them towards that long-awaited destination. He was tall and strong, and in spite of his evident youth carried in his posture every ounce of the control you might expect from a seasoned hand at this protection detail he'd been assigned— Indeed, there was little doubt in his bearing that he had more than earned the right to wield the elegant swept-hilt blade at his hip, shaved just so by the most holy Keeper Of Light from the Bones of the Sea. It had been four years of this since he had received his blade that day— and if you looked upon him, things clearly still weren't getting old.

His sharp features had twisted into a crooked smirk, but steely eyes stayed pinned on the spots of angry scarlet that had appeared at the terminus of their heading, tracing the dark clouds pooling above and rolling on the same wind. The phantom of an acrid, bitter taste implied itself upon the tip of his tongue, as the rest of the crew (having long learned to make a habit of this after the first sea beast) caught up with the Brother's suddenly-captured attention.

Smoke. Their protection detail for the voyage had brought his attention to the unmistakable smoke on the very wind they rode, clouding over their destination and tinged brighter and brighter with red at its' base. They were, all of a sudden, now sailing into an ongoing crisis striking the capital to open this "diplomatic expedition".

While the excited chatter between the sailors took on a note of healthy concern around him, even worry for the fact that they were no doubt sailing directly towards its' source, the Brother kept that same glib, cavalier tone as he finally let his head loll over his shoulder to find his charge, the bearer of the Most Serene Republic's formal, notarized diplomatic overtures and mission statement— a Letter of Credit. Doubtlessly, now that the crew had grown restless on the day they were due to arrive, he wasn't going to be far.

Not that you could ever be very far from anyone on the same boat as you.

"Signore Aubri," he called, as though his voice were cutting through the dull roar of the crew to report that he'd seen a funny looking turtle off the portside bow. "The city's on fire."