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Mini-Event: Skywhale + Day of Lefkokó
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🜙 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. 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. irom otnemem The message has no signature. | ||
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no subject
You want to? I don't know how. I never -- [ There's some awkwardness in the admission. She isn't the kind of person who goes to things like dances, not even in taverns. ]
no subject
( he's not overly familiar with this god or his practices but it's a reasonable assumption to make of a god of freedom. the effort is what matters. the mirth of the participants and the joy that comes of celebration.
and now that she's teased him, he feels compelled to convince her. )
I'll show you the steps. They aren't half as difficult as you think.
no subject
It's somewhat endearing. The persistence, at the very least. ]
Alright. [ She nods towards the crowd. It doesn't feel like she's getting in over her head on anything, given that he'd already danced with a stranger. She's constantly on alert for shit getting too personal, but this is Confirmed Safe. She heads out towards the crowd of people dancing with him, looking like a fish out of water who doesn't even know what to do with her feet once there. ]
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We'll start simple and go slow.
( he sets a hand on the small of her back, drawing her closer but not too close, while the hand holding hers lifts. )
Put your hand on my shoulder.
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So when she follows his instruction and puts her hand on his shoulder, it's more of the outer part of his deltoid. She's trying not to let this get too close. It's a saga. They're not moving yet either, so it's really just like ... an embrace. How suffocating. She had not planned this well. Somehow, she'd imagined social dance. Room for the Raven in between them. ]
no subject
she had been more than vocal in her opinions of him in the past. )
Here, ( he adjusts their position a little bit, giving them a little more space to move. )
As much as I enjoy having you close, I'd rather not step on your feet.
( when the music starts, it's a softer, silvery sort of tune. well suited to a simple box step. )
Now, when I step forward on my left foot ㅡ ( which he does now, carefully. ) you will step back, on your right. Then ㅡ ( he brings them both together again slowly. ) and then ㅡ ( he steps back, bringing her with him carefully. ) and then finally ㅡ ( he continues to lead her carefully through the dance. )
no subject
[ She says it after the second round of steps. Only then does she feel like she has caught up enough to hazard reply. It's overwhelming, frankly, between trying to hear the music and listen to his words and follow his guidance and put her feet somewhere that isn't on top of his.
But she gets it. She's surprisingly dextrous. Still it takes her a few more steps before she can finish her thought because she gets stuck catching up mentally on all the stimuli. ]
It's just other people following your instructions.
[ If there's one thing she knows about him, it's that he loves directing others. Telling her how to feed a pig. Telling her how to walk on the road. Now, telling her how to dance. She doesn't always listen. This time, though, she does. And it gives her something to grouse about in place of processing that he has professed that he enjoys her closeness. A warmth creeps into her cheeks when she spends too much time thinking on that. ]
no subject
( still, for all her protest she seems to be taking to it with a surprising ease. the movements growing more fluid and confident with each careful turn around the makeshift dance floor. )
no subject
Will I get to spin you under my arm too?
[ There's something dry in how she says it — she doubts they could do that with any sort of grace — as she stumbles to find her footing again after the turn. It's new. There's always something new being added, it seems, and that keeps her scrambling to focus. ]
no subject
( he's smiling as he says it, a flash of perfect white teeth. )
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She stops herself from that instinct only by a fraction of a second, and then she's left further unbalanced by having to deconstruct her reactions, and catch up with what he's actually doing, and — Oh, he's smiling. Gods, she should have leaned into it and suplexed him after all. ]
You — [ Her expression is screwed up with accusation. In part because she has no choice but to hold him tight, welcome the closeness, to keep from dropping. ]
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Do you think you have it? ( brows lifting now, curious and perhaps a little teasing, as he brings her back up. )
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It doesn't matter.
She doesn't want the answer, probably. Better to ignore whatever it could be. ]
Yeah. [ She loosens her grip on him then, puts space between them eagerly. As if that might help her get her head straight. ] Where did you learn this? [ That too is almost an accusation. ]