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Want links to the OOC Discord?

There's already a Discord for this?

I'll add my interest as well. Haven't been in a Fate RP in a long time.
I was really trying not to make a mage again after the last RP, but you can't throw out something like "do you want to learn magic?" and not expect a person to jump at it.

The old shaman was willing to entertain her question, giving Akeno enough of an answer to satisfy her curiosity and then some. Like she had thought, the role of shaman was varied and covered areas generally related to preserving knowledge and being more educated that the rest of the tribe. Yambagorn was a historian with maybe a hint of the religious added to it; she remembered the tribe’s history, passed down from past shaman through oral accounts, and its prominent members. There was probably some level of ancestor worship involved and the shaman was probably the one in charge of performing last rites, assuming the Orcs had any.

She was also an apothecary or herbalist; making things, most likely medicine, from mushrooms and plants. But it was the part about reading things that stood out to her; was reading the stars a literal thing or was it figurative? Or maybe both? Did the read the stars to navigate and lead them to a place she already knew about, or was she a fortune teller who felt that this was a good place for the tribe to settle? As for reading an Orc’s soul?

The look the shaman gave her then was too pointed not to mean something, but Akeno didn’t want to give anything away by reacting, so she didn’t. Or tried not to anyway. It was probably best to assume that Yambagorn knew about the whole resurrection thing, though what that meant for Akeno she didn’t know.

The look passed and took some of the tension out of the air with it. Yambagorn offered her information then, a taunting edge to her voice as she offered to tell Akeno where the best hunting spots were, where the Orcs enemies lived and… hell, did she really just offer to help her usurp a position of, presumably, some importance in the tribe? Or to tell her the chief’s future plans? It seemed strange that the shaman would conspire so easily and openly against her leader, assuming Akeno could actually do anything of note with that information. Which, come to think of it, was probably why; a runt like her wouldn’t be able to do anything against the chief and it would be amusing to see her try.

She was getting a clearer picture of the way Orcs thought.

Actually, more importantly than that, did Yambagorn offer to teach her magic? Akeno already knew that skills were a thing; video game like abilities that gave her a buff when she did a certain thing, or which let her conjure and throw a fireball. Was that magic? Probably not, since she wasn’t certain that non-resurrected Orcs could absorb the skills of the stuff they ate like she could and wasn’t about to tip her hand if they couldn’t. If they could, then that would be included in asking where the strongest prey was. So, no, magic was probably different or separate from skills.

Akeno turned more fully towards the shaman; any affected air of nonchalance dropped now that it was clear Yambagorn wasn’t going to fall for it. “Is there anyone in the tribe at the moment who is looking for an apprentice, or to teach their trade?”

Asking about magic was tempting and she would likely approach the shaman again in the future for that, but right now her main priority was still finding shelter, food and stability within the tribe now that she was considered something of an independent. Orcs didn’t seem to go in for family all that much and Akeno frankly lacked the knowledge to go it alone, so seeking out something like an apprenticeship to tie herself to someone in the tribe seemed like the best bet at the moment.

Claire Turner

Claire wasn’t sure what it was she was expecting exactly, but the group that met them at the end of the path was pretty… disappointing. When she’d heard the words ‘secret society’ she had kind of thought that there would be more than just half a dozen random people standing in a clearing with nothing but trees and fog; maybe some kind of secret hideout in the graveyard that justified the weird meeting place, or some weird setup with candles and an altar. None of them were even wearing robes.

And the speech? Claire had come here because she had wanted answers for what was happening to her, to learn of some way to make the monsters go away or at least a way to let her stop running. Instead they was the ones being asked to help and it sounded like these people were in even further over their heads than she was.

So, yeah… disappointing.

The only thing she heard that gave her some hope was the fact that you could apparently fight back using your own Duel Monsters. How you could fight back with cardboard she didn’t know, but given how uneasy she felt whenever she was separated from her deck, how some part of her felt reassured just looking at her cards, she believed it. The only question was how?

When the Spirit Viewer was offered to her Clair took one, even though she had no intention of joining whatever crusade these people were on. As soon as she knew enough to be able to defend herself, she was leaving town. Again.

Before they could explain any further however, their meeting was interrupted. Claire had no idea who these newcomers were but something was clearly wrong with them and they posed some kind of threat; the panic from their hosts was contagious and Claire didn’t hesitate at all to grab one of the ‘duel boards’ that were thrown her way. Questions could come later.

Slotting her deck into the device and drew her hand. Something was beginning to emerge from the trees to surround the, but with the fog it was hard to tell exactly what. Not knowing how this worked, Claire decided to keep things simple and settled for normal summoned Metalfoes Goldriver in attack position.
Claire Turner

Claire was quiet in the wake of Aile’s little introduction. Normally she would try and socialise with the group, liven things up and leave her mark in people’s minds, but right now she couldn’t do anything but focus in on what the younger woman had just said.

‘Esoteric’; it didn’t necessarily mean what she wanted it to mean. It was just another word for obscure, hard to understand; the esoteric aspects of Duel Monsters could just refer to, like, damage step rulings or something. It didn’t have to have anything to do with what she was running from. This society the blonde mentioned could just be really dedicated to niche rulings for all she knew.

But she knew it wasn’t.

A bunch of wannabe judges wouldn’t arrange a midnight meeting in a cemetery and set up a lantern lit path through the darkness just to invite them to discuss the deeper aspects of chain links. Claire knew what this was. Something only further confirmed when one of the other invitees mentioned ‘psychic bullshit’; for that to be the first thing they thought of when they heard the word esoteric was telling. She wasn’t the only one experiencing weird things.

Impatiently, Claire stepped after the other duellist and grabbed a lantern of her own. “Let’s not waste time then. Let’s meet this society of yours.”
Morgana Faith

Seeing her family home again after what was almost a decade of estrangement was… a hard experience to define. It was a familiar sight, she supposed, but none of the memories she associated with the manor were what Morgana would particularly call ‘happy’; there was no nostalgia, no longing to stroll through the doors and walk its halls, venture into its rooms and see if everything was the same as she had left it.

When she had left before Morgana had done so with the full intent of cutting herself off from her family forever; she had expected to never see this place again. There had been a sense of finality to it that now left her feeling detached from the sight she was seeing. It was her childhood home, and it wasn’t at the same time; she had forsaken it long ago.

Now, it was just puzzle to be solved in order for them to progress with this case.

Truth be told, once it became clear that her mother had some kind of connection to this case Morgana had given some thought to how one might go about breaching those defences. However, between the mess with the spirit and then the assault on the cultist camp and then their quick journey back to the UK and now here there hadn’t been much spare time for her to devote towards the task, meaning her progress was disappointing. She had not been privy to every enchantment and protection placed on the property, having left home when she was still in her late teens, but she had been told about some as a necessity of her own safety, had figured others out herself during her tutoring as a child and had theories about the rest.

Morgana was quite well versed in protective wards, seals and similar such magics; some of her ideas around the type of protections her mother and their descendants would employ came about as a by-product of her own knowledge rather than a conscious effort to breach her family’s manor. She knew what types of wards worked best, their advantages and disadvantages, their places of origin and so on. She knew what kinds of magic her family tended to favour and where those two areas of knowledge overlapped. She could surmise what she herself would have chosen and assume the same of those that came before her.

Knowledge of wards came with knowledge of how to penetrate said wards; what their weaknesses were and when not to use them. Or at least it should, if the one casting them had any kind of intelligence. That did not necessarily mean that she could break them, just that she theoretically knew how.

“Before anyone heads off to start poking around, I’ll give you the same warning I gave Madeleine when we approached the cultist’s camp. Any attempts to scry beyond the exterior of the building will be useless; perhaps your deities can manage something, perhaps not.” Useless, but not unsuccessful in the traditional sense. Witches had learned long ago that it was far more efficient to redirect efforts rather than try to block them; trying to scry inside the building would be successful, but show you nothing more than the surface of a reflective glass orb suspended in some unobtrusive corner of the building.

“Any defensive wards on the building will be old, powerful, malicious and reactive. Simply attempting to perceive them will trigger a response, so if you aren’t absolutely certain you can defend against or subvert a curse intended to harm or even kill, do not approach the boundary of the building itself; not even with your magic.” At the cultist camp Morgana had determined that they would not be using wards, as the kind that witches used tended to be large workings intended for long term use. A temporary base like the camp would not be worth warding, but the Faith family manor? The seat of their coven’s power for the past few centuries? The wards would have been established around the same time the foundations had been set, the magic would have sunk into the earth and taken root.

“Normally I would strongly advise against crossing any kind of threshold, but in this situation that may actually be our best bet. The wards around the entranceways can be raised to prevent anyone from crossing, even my mother, but given the invitation and the fact that mother would never deign to imprison herself, I believe the door are safe to cross.” Or perhaps not and her mother was simply hoping she would die as soon as she tried to set foot in her childhood home; Morgana would give even odds towards the wards imbued in her coat either saving her life or failing entirely should that be the case. But she had a feeling that was not what her mother had planned here. It simply wouldn’t be her style to set such a mundane and impersonal trap, even if harming her was her intent.

Morgana turned to Faye “We’re estranged. I haven’t spoken to my mother in years, though she has certainly spoken at me in that time. I don’t believe she would hurt me, yet. I can’t say the same for you.” Then again, it wasn’t like she had ever expected her mother to throw her lot in with whatever Mr X was either, so who was to say if her judgement was accurate or not? “I would suggest against trying to teleport inside the building; you won’t arrive where you are expecting to and there’s a chance you won’t be able to teleport out afterwards.” Redirect your enemies efforts, rather than attempt block them outright. “My family has never hunted or harmed the Fae to my knowledge, but unwanted guests were certainly never tolerated.”

Then she turned to Amanda. “I can’t say what my mother would do; I never expected her to be involved in this in the first place. It would depend on whether or not she intends to play coy and pretend ignorance, or if she is willing to go public with her involvement in… whatever this all is.” The former would be immensely frustrating, the latter could be deadly. “Those runes are new; they shouldn’t be visible like that, which suggests they are newly laid and haven’t been properly synched with the existing protections yet. They look like standard strengthening wards though; the manor’s defences have always been directed towards more esoteric threats, rather than those that my family would consider mundane.”

In other words… “The windows aren’t bullet proof and the doors aren’t reinforced. Those runes are meant to rectify that. They aren’t yet complete.”

I'm still interested.

Times like this it might just be better to skip a couple of people and let them catch-up later. Set a deadline for when the cut-off for the next post is.
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