usir | Mini-Event: Skywhale + Day of Lefkokó

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The Skywhale & Day of Lefkokó

🜙 The Skywhale

	After fierce retaliation and an increase in city-wide defensive power and measures, it seems as if the orc attacks have, at least for the moment, begun to subside. Along with the lessened threat of orc ambushes, the first storms of winter have died down to a gentle and occasional snow flurry, leaving the world peacefully blanketed in powder snow and a calm stillness. The City of the Free Peoples take this time to celebrate the final repairs of the airship, the Skywhale. With sail balloon once more filled and the engines working hard to keep the air within it warm, easier and safer travel is once more available. The Skywhale leaves once a day in the early morning to head for Didymos, and today is its maiden voyage since the repairs. Thalassa has changed greatly in the last century, blossoming into a massive port and military city, with resources and opportunities unavailable in the more eclectic Cty of the Free Peoples. Restless legs may find their chance to stretch to a new experience. Sail the skies aboard the Skywhale and see Thalassa's grand transformation to Didymos for yourself. Catch the voyage back before nightfall, or remain in Didymos until the ship's return the following day. There is plenty to see and do in the city by the sea. You can even see Logistykon's reef from aboard the Skywhale's deck as it swings around to dock. It is a grim but beautiful sight in the clear blue waters. While the threat of fire and orc ambush has diminished greatly, the City of the Free Peoples is filled with a sense of unease and discomfort as repairs on the city and attempts to put lives back together continue. Murmurs of discontent slip through the city streets, along with rumors that this is all Lykos' fault or accusations that the Captain might be hiding something. For every murmur of distrust, however, there are counters of the heroics and quick action that helped keep the city strong and beat the orcs back. There has still been no word from Krimnos or the airship, Valiant, that usually hails from the cliff city daily. Messengers have not made their wing from the city and those sent to the cliffs have not returned. It's not unusual for this time of year, but the absence is felt keenly by traveling merchants who need to get their wares to or from the city. A journey by horse or on foot would be risky, but the potential rewards for escorting a company up to the cliffs could prove significant.
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🜙 Day of Lefkokó

	No matter what city you find yourself in, the dawn of the 17th sees a change in mood and atmosphere across Idan. Snow has stopped falling and the sky is a bright, clear blue. The weather warms enough to cause water to drip softly from the icicles hanging off every awning and outcrop. Decorations of magical or crafted snowflake art and blue ice flames line city streets and building windows, and jovial merriment spills out into the streets. A sweet wine made from frostberries, warm honey-mead, and spiced apple drinks are offered in taverns, inns, and small shops or homes, a free offering to be had with sweet or spiced cheeses and spiced or candied nuts and fruits. It's a celebration that is far from unfamiliar, one that has been celebrated for centuries across Idan's towns and cities, though the methods and particulars of the celebration have always varied from place to place and people to people. December is the month of the White Raven, and in particular, this day is a day to honor him. Lefkokó, the deity of dance, freedom, madness, and cunning sits at the head of the cause of these festivities and his domains are the focus of the celebrations. Today is a day of dance, drinking, and games of skill and chance. A day to test your bluffing skills, show off, and take deep joy and pride in the liberties and opportunities available to all. Few work on this day, beyond the essentials, and everyone who is able to takes part in this moment of freedom and relaxed expectations or responsibilities. The cities are alive with music and dancing, and the taverns are a swirl of chaos amidst high stake games of cunning and chance. Clever minds clash over riddles, old and new, and as the day progresses a lack of sobriety becomes increasingly evident in the streets and establishments alike. As the sun reaches the highest point in the sky and the shadows dwindle to near nothingness, the aviaries of all three cities release the newest flock of rare juvenile snow ravens to their freedom, letting them take wing to the skies for their first ever flights. The flocks of snow ravens, the most coveted of magic familiars, fly off to the wildlands after practicing their acrobatic feats and visiting various areas of the city in search of food to give them energy for the journey ahead. Once they take their leave of the city, many begin to seek out hidden trinkets, magical herbs, and small, rare items across Idan with a precise and dedicated focus. Those who honor Lefkokó by celebrating in his name may be visited by his rare and clever emissaries later in the month with an offering of thanks from Lefkokó himself.
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🜙 A Warning.

	By the 18th the orc camp has been abandoned, the animals freed and the orcs, whatever was left of them, appear to have fled. Retreat is unusual, even more so for them to cut their creatures loose and flee without triumph or trophy, but this is something different. Many of the weapons, trinkets, and armors coveted by the warring orcs have been left behind, and the fires trampled and stamped out with apparent urgency. Tracks lead to the south a few miles and then vanish into snow in the direction of Lake Atéleio. It and the land south and west of it are consumed in a blizzard blown over from the sea, and tracking beyond that point becomes nearly impossible, though by this point it is assumed the Orcs have retreated to Spear Valley. Whether or not they will return is unclear. Those in the City of the Free Peoples on the 18th will receive another message, this one from a less mysterious source, addressing the coming dangers. Though the attacks have set preparations back a few weeks I would like to quell any worries. The Long Night approaches, but you are a city of strong, brave folk. The threats on the horizon will not be the end of this city any more than these raucous attacks have been. Supplies can be claimed from the defender's camp for any struggling to make the necessary preparations. Those who have lost their homes will be provided shelter and supplies. When the Long Night comes, keep your children indoors, your fires stoked, and your buildings shuttered. There is nothing to fear. Your defenders will keep you safe. -Captain Lykos Several hours later a second and then a third message is received across all kingdoms. It comes only to the couriers of the awakened. The first comes as an audio message: A dull scraping sound followed by the click and whine of metal dragging across stone and the dripping of thick, viscous liquid somewhere distant. It ends abruptly and a simple thought message, short and uncomfortable, follows it. silarclupes irom otnemem The message has no signature.

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Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"My kind of guy~" Shura teases, having known him a whole two seconds. But finishing his drink is very important, Shura can give him a few seconds to chug that booze down. Besides, if he spilled his drink on her, she'll have to find somewhere to go and clean up since she barely has anything on, and that would just be a pain. But as soon as he's downed his drink, Shura will pull him out to join the rest of the dancers.

The music is fast and lively. Shura recognizes the beat as an old one, but the steps aren't familiar. It was only natural that the trendy and popular dances would change over the last hundred years, after all. But Shura has the confidence of a drunk party girl. She saw this dance a bit ago, it couldn't that hard, surely. Besides, they aren't the only drunks in the crowd trying to get this polka-type thing right. Quick, quick, slow! And a lot of spinning.

"It's so lively~" Which is as it should be.

He happily lets himself get yanked over by Shura. Surprising no one, Strange doesn't know this dance either. But the music is just as infectious as Shura's good mood and Strange has enough confidence in his dancing ability to hopefully catch up with what everyone's doing. Maybe. He hopes. Even if he doesn't, he just chugged a drink: he'll stop caring sooner or later.

"Well then! Since you're the one who dragged me into this, you get to lead the dance." No pressure, Shura. "How do we start?"

"Oho~, you better be ready to keep up!" How is she not supposed to take that as a challenge? She'll take the lead, taking his hand in hers and placing her hand on his shoulder, waiting a moment for the right beat before joining in the dance proper. The steps aren't hard, but trying to keep up with the rest of the dancers as they turn is a little more difficult, enough so that Shura will have to keep quiet for a moment. It's fine to miss a step or two, but she's just sober enough that she does care about not knocking into their neighbors.

But hey, at least she's not stepping on Strange's toes! Give her another go or two, and she'll have this down pat!

Strange is also paying close attention to his fellow dancers, partly to see if he can copy any of their moves, partly because he also doesn't want to step on toes. He's doing a good job not stepping on Shura's toes, though he does hesitate a little at certain points and has to be yanked around the room.

Not that he minds it, of course. Strange is perfectly fine being yanked and moved as much as needed. He's also keeping up pretty well.

"This is easier than I thought!" he exclaims, more proud of himself than anything else.

If he was stepping on her toes, Shura might have taken an issue sooner rather than later. But since he's doing about as well as she could expect from a drunk stranger, so she'll haul him with her. And then, of course, he has to open his mouth.

"Easier? I'm the one leading, hotshot!" And just for that, she'll add an extra little fast spin, an extra step he probably saw the other couples do. And then maybe another one, just for funsies.

"Yes, but I—" Strange's protests are cut short as Shura pulls him into a spin. He stumbles on the first spin but on the second he manages to regain his footing, giving Shura a wild grin in the process.

"My point stands," says the person ignoring the fact that he almost ate dirt on that first spin.

Shura laughs at him as he stumbles, but really, she's almost impressed that he doesn't take them both out with that near-fall.

"Nyeheh, maybe you're not so bad at this~" No more fancy spins for a moment, though. Shura may have mostly nailed the turns, but too much and she was going to get a little dizzy.

"Of course I'm not bad at it!" he preens, giving Shura a very smug smile. "My wife and I used to go dancing all the time, when—" When they both were alive, back in the past. It's something that still pains Strange to think about: his wife is dead. There's not much he can do now about that. Even if he brought her back to life, there wouldn't be much to work with. Over a hundred years...the body must have decayed. And what necromancy he's worked out involves an actual body.

Still, that is way too much information to dump on this random lady. Strange's words only hitch a moment in his throat before he continues talking, as if this is perfectly normal and not him utterly failing to deal with the fact that Arabella, his wife, isn't just dead but is pretty damn dead.

"—when she was alive."

Of course, she would pick the man with a dead wife. Even if this was just a one-time chance encounter, of course it would be something like this.

But since this isn't exactly her first go with a man in this situation and she's more mature than she had been in past situations, Shura simply ignores the fact that it came up at all.

"Eh? Don't get too cocky! I'm takin' it easy on you." Smooth, so very smooth.

"I can take it!" Strange says, grinning madly, entirely unaware of how not at all smooth Shura just was now. He's mostly focusing on keeping his feet moving in the proper position and trying not to fall back into the sad dead wife feels.

"Give me your best shot!"

"Don't let me down~" Well, thinking of fancy moves is a little difficult when she's still learning the dance herself, so it'll be another couple of fast turns, and then moves to try to turn under her arm, hoping he won't twist them into some sort of mess--

The music comes to a stop, and Shura isn't quite expecting the dance to end so suddenly. At least, it feels sudden. None of the other dancers seem bothered by the dance coming to an end. She might be a little more buzzed than she first thought.

"Nya? I wasn't payin' attention." She sounds almost perplexed, not thinking to either escort him from the dance area or to drop her hand from his shoulder.

Edited 2018-12-23 02:43 (UTC)

Strange manages the turn but the under-arm turn completely knocks him for a loop. As Shura goes for that turn, he visibly stumbles, defeated in the battle of who could be the best dancer and/or the biggest pain in the neck. He'll be a graceful loser, victory is Shura's.

Though Strange isn't expecting the dance to end so suddenly either. He's not moving from the spot either, partly due to the fact that he's slightly buzzed, partly due to the fact that the turn that Shura tossed him into made the contents of his stomach (mostly alcohol) slosh in a really weird way. He takes a moment to regain his bearings, not really moving her hand from his shoulder.

"Shall we go for round two?"

It's good he's a graceful loser; Shura would have had too much fun with him he he fussed. But as it stood, she'll enjoy her victory with a satisfied grin.

She doesn't know quite what she should expect him to say after that. She isn't surprised that he offers another round, and Shura's first instinct is to decline his invitation. She knows better than to stick around men who weren't over their dead lovers. Nothing good ever came out of being around a man like that. But she's tipsy and lonely, so her best judgment is getting thrown out of the window.

"Heheh, don't want me to think you're a klutz or somethin'?" She teases, not seeing much point in pulling away if they were just going to be dancing again in a moment. Unfortunately for her, Shura won't know any of the steps for the next dance, so she may just get a taste of her own medicine.

"What I think," Strange stars, slurring his words a little, before he realizes that makes him sound drunker than he actually is (and starts deliberately trying to sound less drunk in return.)

"What I think is that I want to dance some more. And you're a good dancer who can certainly give me a run for my money." And he doesn't really want to think about now. Just the mere mention of Arabella's name is enough for Strange to worry he'll fall into a downward spiral of regret—and he does not want to be in that mental place right now.

"Besides, this is a celebration, isn't it? We should celebrate."

If he can stop himself from slurring too much, then he hasn't had enough to drink. But maybe this was a good thing. He might end up getting all sad and soppier than he already was. No, it was better to dance once more and decide whether or not it'd be worth her time to stick around with him for much longer.

"That's the spirit! If we ain't having fun, then we might as well go to bed!" Bed and not home. Home wasn't an option for Shura any more, and honestly, she'd rather dance and play around than think about the twins. Some couples are making their way back to the square, and Shura can hear the musicians reviewing the next song. It's easy to keep her mind from wandering when she can occupy herself with trying to figure out what the next dance will be.

Well, she's right on that one. They're already out here, already enjoying the situation, why not have fun and continue to dance until the festivities end, they both get sloppy drunk, or they both get too tired, whichever comes first. Strange nods, giving Shura a wide grin as he agrees with her assessment.

As the musicians start talking about the next song, Strange keeps an ear out, listening in the hopes that he'll recognize whatever the hell they play. Though, he can multitask: he starts to talk while he listens.

"My name is Jonathan Strange, by the way. I don't think we've ever met."

“Nyaha, probably not~!” No, not considering the circumstances. Shura could have gone the whole evening without learning his name, but Strange had to go be all polite and stuff. “My name’s Shura~”

While her clan had never been widely known and knowledge of them had likely been lost over the years, she’ll refrain from giving her full name, just in case. Hopefully, he wouldn’t ask more about her. Shura shifts her hand, a not-so-subtle hint for him to take the lead for the next dance.

Strange gets the hint. He takes Shura's hand and gives her a small nod. And, as the music starts up, he pulls her into a dance.

Unfortunately, Strange doesn't know as much about this dance as he did the previous one. Still, he's watching the other dancers, adjusting his movements on the fly, and doing a fairly decent job of leading Shura through the dance. That doesn't change the fact that there are a few precarious moments where he'll bump up against her, almost step on her foot, or things like that.

Between their shared unfamiliarity with the dance and their inebriation, the fact that they weren't bumping into each other and the other couples is impressive. Shura doesn't mind the near-misses and the times he narrowly misses stepping on her toes, only laughing. She isn't doing much better, saved by her natural grace and rhythm and her partner's guidance. Stumbling around like this is fun in its own way.

"You don't know what you're doin', do you?" She says, still grinning even after her nearly steps on her toes again. The dance couldn't be that new, not if everyone else knew the steps just fine. Maybe it was a regional thing, but maybe she had more in common with this man than she thought. It was likely the former, but it was still possible that he was like her. She'd keep an eye out for other signs.

"Absolutely not," Strange laughs, with a little grin. Because he doesn't. He sure as hell doesn't. He only has a vague idea of what he's doing and has even less of a vague idea of how to do the dance. Still, he's got no idea if this dance is well-known or not: he might as well give a half-assed attempt at an explanation.

"I'm not from here," he explains, with a little shrug. "And aside from that, my style is a little...out of date." He can't help but smile at that, like he's privy to an inside joke. Over a hundred years out of date but he's sure as hell not going to tell Shura that. Unless...maybe she was like him?

A hop here, a turn there. It isn't a difficult dance, but it isn't easy to pick up on the fly like this.

"What, have you been asleep in the woods for the last hundred years?" She asks playfully. It's an odd question, but it's something she can blow off as quirky or drunk if pressed. She knew she wasn't the only only, but just how many of them were there? It was only natural to try and seek out allies in this situation. This has nothing to do with the heartache Shura's been desperately trying to ignore since she realized just how much she had lost on waking up from death.

"Perhaps," Strange teases, with a wry little 'I know something you don't know' sort of grin. What an oddly specific time frame to ask about...perhaps she was like him? There was only one way to find out: more questions, hidden behind jibes and jokes.

"Though actually? It was a battlefield. I took a hundred year nap there, woke up around a month ago, and discovered that my fashion was terribly out of date."

He continues the dance, leading Shura through hops and turns. There's one complicated part where he has to spin her: that one almost causes Strange to wipe out, but he manages to keep his footing.

If he steps on her toes, Shura's going to demand he buy her a drink. Really, she's probably going to try and weasel one out of him, anyway, but that's later.

"A hundred year nap on a battlefield? Nyaha, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you died!" A quick hop-hop, and Shura trips a little on his feet. She recovers quickly for the next step. "But that shouldn't be possible, wakin' up after all those years in one piece and dressed in a new shirt!"

That's enough to prove to Strange that Shura was like him, that she died and came back as well. He pulls her in, ostensibly to continue the dance.

"I never said the shirt was new," he whispers, close into Shura's ear. All he did was make a joke about out of date fashion, not say any details of the new shirt he woke up in. The joke could have easily been about the clothes he died in, not the mysterious new tunic he had. He's not even bothering to conceal the excitement in his voice as he whispers, "You died as well, didn't you."

And before Shura can say anything else, Strange moves her into a spin to finish off the song: the music starts to die down as the rest of the couples finish the dance.

He's too giddy when he asks that. But he understood what she was asking, however indirectly. Another one--his animas must be somewhere else, either hidden under one of the tables like her Shishi or somewhere safe and out of the way. Really, though, what a way to be dramatic, spinning her before she can get a word out in reply. Her heart was already beating fast from the dancing, but it's hard to get it to settle out now. He wasn't the first she had met like her, but the other meetings had been more subdued and she had been entirely sober on those occasions.

The last notes of the song are a distant sound in her ears; she's ready to pull away from the dancing and music for a moment. "After all that, I'm thirsty~"

Time to escape from the crowd to talk for a moment, compare stories.

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