usir | Event #3 A Tale of Three Cities

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🜙 Mini-Event #2: The North Winds, January 11th

	The Long Night has ended and the sun once more rises and sets with the short winter cycle. Although the cold remains, it has lessened considerably following the harsh freeze of the darkness. Krimnos, no longer having to put all their resources into defending the city from the terrors to come, has been able to clear the heavy snowpack on the cliffs above the city enough to safely begin running two of their three remaining airships. The Skywhale has been making its regular routes since its repairs the previous month, but the two airships from Krimnos to Didymos and the City of the Free Peoples have been grounded in the cliff city for safety since the start of winter. Now two of Krimnos' airships join their sister ship in the skies over Idan. The following routes are traveled once a day by each airship: The *Skywhale* travels from the City of the Free Peoples to Didymos and then back once a day, docking nightly in the City of the Free Peoples. The *Horizon* travels from Didymos to Krimnos and then back once a day, docking nightly in Didymos. The *Valiant* travels from Krimnos to the City of the Free Peoples and then back once a day, docking nightly in Krimnos. The *Zenith* normally travels from Krimnos to the mountain outpost of Preciposte and then on to Einjar. Unfortunately, it is still grounded due to inclement weather and winter threats in the northern mountains beyond Krimnos. The Zenith will not be able to travel until the thaw has begun. A one-way trip takes 4-6 hours depending on weather and wind to go from/to Didymos to either city and 6-9 hours to travel between Krimnos and the City of the Free Peoples. Anyone can take a trip on an airship for a purse of silver coins, or try their luck and stow away. Mounts can get a lift as well, but they require an additional fare. Not bad for a chance to see Idan from a bird's eye view for the first time for most people.
🜙 Thlipa's Tribute, January 11th

	As January progresses, pods of fin whales spend their nights in the safety of Fisher's Bay during their migration. At this time Thlipa is believed to be watching over Idan and many of Idan's people show their respect for the deity. Unlike the Day of Lefkokó, Thlipa's Tribute is a far more somber affair. Though she is the goddess of the seas, storms, and power, she is also the goddess of mourning and it is this realm she is believed to preside over most during the cold winter months. People from all across Idan who are able to travel will make a journey to Didymos to be closer to the ocean, while others observe the fin whale goddess' day in their own homes and cities. Ancestors, lost relatives, and friends are remembered with offerings of handmade gifts and small collections of nuts and sweet-dried fish. Small, enchanted candles are set out on boats down the river and shore to be carried out to the ocean. It is believed by some of the more power-hungry supporters of Thlipa that by calling on and revering the spirits of the departed Thlipa might gift her followers with the magic of the fallen. Gatherings of Thlipa's most devout followers can be seen on the shores or on small skimmer boats in the bay, and vandalism of fishing boats and nets that might endanger the fin whales runs rampant during this time.

🜙 A Tale of Three Cities - Krimnos: An Army Adrift, January 12-20th

	It appears that a large company of former Atrómitos knights has awoken in an isolated and forgotten battlefield below Krimnos' twin mountains. The army has journeyed together through the blinding blizzard to complete their original objective: a full-scale attack on Krimnos. There's something off about the tattered army decked in the green and gold of Atrómitos that shows up at Krimnos' gates. They don't seem to feel the cold, and their eyes, if anyone is unfortunate enough to get that close, are a colorless and glossy grey. They continue fighting through weather and injury, undeterred as they focus their attacks on Krimnos' main gate, setting magical fire to the gate, the wall, and their perceived enemies. The army can be seen using weapons, battering rams, and elemental magic to attack the city's gates. Though their eyes are a blank and glossy grey and they do not seem to be speaking or reacting with pain to counter-attack elements, it is clear there is a hierarchy and the commanding officers seem to still be silently directing their forces. They do not speak, and if captured it quickly becomes clear why. Though they appear whole externally, the soldiers of this army lack functional internal organs. No blood runs through their frozen veins and no oxygen is being pulled into their lungs. There also appear to be no thoughts in their minds, only the howling sound of the wind through the mountains around Krimnos. At this time of year, Krimnos can not afford to loose their main line of defense, nor can they risk the very real dangers of battle sounds and blood drawing out the hungry mountain hunters or causing an avalanche that could bury the city in snow. No one knows why this army is here, but with the familiar colors adorning the fighters, there are whispers in the air of an attempt to start a war. Already tense relations between Krimnos and the City of the Free Peoples could stand to suffer from this and the citizens of Krimnos seem horrified by the prospect. King Sitka's first concern is the safety of his people, and as such he is driving his army hard into the attacking forces and even beyond its gates if necessary, anything to push the battle farther from his people and the dangerous cliffs stacked with snow that tower over Krimnos.

🜙 A Tale of Three Cities - City of the Free Peoples: The Disappearance of Captain Lykos, January 14-22nd

	No one has seen Captain Lykos since the Long Night but rumors and knowledge of his disappearance have been kept quiet by the city's Defenders, fearful the city would spiral into a panic at the loss of its de facto leader. As word comes from traveling Krimnos merchants that the city is under siege from an army dressed in green and gold, the city turns to its Defenders for answers and finds more than they bargained for. The Defenders attempt to calm the rising panic in the city by deflecting, stating that the Captain is out on a peace mission on his way to Krimnos but this backfires as the city erupts into conspiracy theories that he is actually leading the attack and trying to start a war, with reasons such as anger over a lack of support from Krimnos during the city's time of need being used to feed the growing fear. As outrage and panic spread across the city, the Defenders declare martial law and put the city back on lockdown until answers can be found. The stability of the city quickly begins to fray. Chaos, disorder, and dissent spread and talk of overthrowing the Defenders and putting someone else in charge begins to spread. The city needs answers for themselves and for Krimnos and the Defenders begin an even more desperate search for their missing leader. Meanwhile, the citizens of the city begin preparing for a revolt, with whispers of an organized attack on the warcamp of the Defenders quickly gaining traction. The more time passes the less reasonably either side appears to be thinking, and the longer anyone lingers in the city the more infectious this frantic and paranoid energy becomes. Amidst it all, a Siamese with a familiar glowing adornment can be seen surveying the chaos from the safety of rooftops or tree branches, its eyes occasionally glowing blue while its tail flicks in what seems to be either irritation or frustration.

🜙 A Tale of Three Cities - Didymos: Tidal Troubles, January 14-25th

	Starting the morning of the 14th, trouble comes to Didymos on the tides or the lack thereof. The tide goes out during the night and, to the dismay and concern of Didymos' citizens, it never comes back. In fact, it seems as if the ocean waters are only continuing to recede, leaving Didymos' fleet and her fishing ships awash in the shallows or fully grounded. Each day the waters recede further, leaving sealife beached or trapped in tide pools and larger dips in the seafloor. A pod of fin whales finds themselves stranded in the deepest section of the bay just within the Sunset Gate. As the waters continue to recede, shipwrecks, sunken cargo, and unusual skeletons dot the rock and shell covered shores, turning the edges of the bay into an unending expanse of tide pools and dotting the horizon with pieces of warped and barnacle-covered ships usually only visible beneath the clear waters. Within days it's possible for a fully grown human to wade out to the Sunset Gate without ever getting their neck wet. The confusion and complications caused by this unexplainable dearth of water starts a panic in Didymos that the dual rulers have to fight to control. The widespread fear is joined by whispers of a war brought along from people traveling to Didymos from the other cities, and Didymos finds itself caught in a tense place with the prospect of having to outline allegiances if war breaks out. Everyone knows Queen Adira would put her forces behind Krimnos in an instant, but King Ardis seems reluctant, questioning the legitimacy of Krimnos' claims to a possible war and seeking information.

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"You," Strange responds, as if it's absolutely obvious. A little bit of creepy scrying and location magic told him where Shura was and some more downright stalking led him to her area. Strange has a bottle of something obviously alcoholic in his hand that he holds up, showing off to Shura.

"I said I'd buy you a drink after that whole Long Night business. Well, I'll do one better. Come down there and I'll give this to you."

Or he'll come up to visit her. Either/or. But it would certainly be easier for the more athletic Shura to come down than it would be for the absolutely not athletic Strange to come up.

She could come down. It would probably be the easiest option. But the view! It was going to be better if he came up to her, especially since she doubts he'll just leave once he delivers his offering.

"Nya? Come down?" From her side, Shishi growls, his ears flattening close to his head. The shreds of Shura's anger might be faint, but they're still there, and the lion isn't entirely pleased with Strange's appearance. Shura jerks her thumb towards the side of the building. "There's a way up back there."

It's part of his punishment.

Come up there? But he doesn't want to climb. Strange briefly looks affronted before he gives in. He's well aware that he needs to be nice and acquiescing to Shura, considering that his stupid ass was the one who got her killed. So, Strange gives Shura a little nod. "I'll be up in a moment."

It's more like three moments as the way up the building is one part fire escape, one part physically pulling himself onto the roof, one part climbing up via feet on window ledges. And, as he's carrying a bottle of alcohol and occasionally scooping up his hare to lift her up to the next area, it takes Strange a frankly embarrassing amount of time to get up on the roof. But he does and, very carefully, starts to walk over to Shura.

"Doing this one-handed is harder than it seems." One-handed because again, booze. He offers her the bottle when he's within a reasonable distance.

To her credit, Shura won't heckle him on his way up there. Better to finish off the last of the bottle she's currently working on. How did he find her, anyway? She didn't think he was crazy enough to walk around the city with a bottle in hand looking for her. Maybe he asked around. It wasn't like there were too many other women with a mass of red hair and a lion in Didymos.

"I bet~" When he offers the bottle, she'll accept, taking it with both hands and examining it. Shishi gives another growl, his tail flicking in irritation. "But the view is nice, ain't it?"

Strange ignores Shishi growling. Bell, however, makes a little sniffing noise as she turns her head away from the lion in annoyance. Still, Shura pointed out the view so Strange is going to take a look.

And wow. It is nice. He honestly had no idea that the candles were visible from here. He takes a moment to just appreciate the view, sitting down so that he's not standing upright on the roof (that's a fast way to fall over.)

"It is," Strange admits, eyes focused on the view and not at Shura. "It's amazing how different the candles look from up here than they do on the shore." Because of course Strange was on the shore, setting a candle out. There's someone he wants to remember, after all, and there's no better way to do it than a ceremony.

Shishi's growling continues, tail swatting from side to side in irritation as Strange takes a seat. Who cares about the hare? Strange has already shown himself to be a danger. But Shura reaches over to tug on one of his ears, and he makes a frustrated sound, setting his head down on his paws and grumbling to himself at his scolding. Shura gives him a quick scritch behind his ears in consolation.

"See? Worth the climb, ain't it?" She isn't waiting to uncap the bottle, realizing belatedly that she should probably offer Strange some. "Mm, you bring a glass or somethin'?"

Both Strange and Bell continue to ignore Shishi, though it's complete obliviousness on the mage's part and selective pettiness on the hare's part.

"How many hands do you think I have?" Strange teases, as he gives Shura a wry raise of an eyebrow. That's a no, in case she was wondering. He just brought the bottle, no glasses. "I was hoping that by the time I found you, you'd have gotten off of the roof—or, that you'd get off the roof anyway and join me on the ground."

Since that is apparently a big fat no, there aren't any glasses. Have fun drinking out of the bottle or waiting until later.

"Hm? You must have been looking real hard if you already knew I was on the roof." That's creepy, but he's still a bit on the nutty side, so Shura isn't really that surprised.

But really, she wasn't asking for her sake, she already has a cup form herself. It would be weird to drink without offering him some, even if he might deserve to be sober. Shura hums, looking terribly unimpressed with his lack of resourcefulness, reaching into the pouch at her side and pulling out a little leather case, unclasping the latch and pulling out a well-worn shot glass, handing it to Strange before putting the case away.

"They don't teach you to be prepared at university, do they~?"

"Oh, no, I found you via magic." This is entirely creepy and Strange seemingly has no problem admitting to the creepiness. He watches with interest as Shura opens the case and takes out a shot glass. Well. That's exceedingly useful. Damn, he'll need to get himself one of those. Strange looks at the shot glass with an approving smile

"As you can probably guess, I was a terrible student and an even worse teacher." What with the whole 'punching someone in the hissy fit he threw when he left' sort of thing. This is no surprise. "And if they did, they would teach me to be prepared with pencils and notebooks, not shot glasses."

It's pretty obvious that Strange didn't go to the party school.

Of course, the mad man uses magic to scry for her instead of of using that hand little device they got. The Courier would be far too practical for a man like him. Shura clicks her tongue, though whether she's scoffing at his stalker habits or his lame excuse for not being prepared to drink at any moment might not be clear. She isn't too impressed with his reasoning, either way.

"Mm, I was a terrible student and I had this kind of thing ready." She pauses, fiddling with the stopper on the bottle. "Nyaa, but I was at a military academy, so maybe things were different."

Shura was very definitely a different brand of terrible student than Strange. But she has her manners, so as soon as she has the bottle open, she'll pour a shot out for Strange, then one for herself.

"Things were definitely different," Strange remarks, with a wry smile. He takes the shot, raises it up in a sort of toast, then knocks the drink back.

It's surprisingly good alcohol, the sort of drink that's designed to go down deceptively smooth and hit hard later. Strange may be erratic and eccentric, but he at least knows what sort of booze is best for an apology gift.

"My university was more academic. A lot of debating different schools of thought, practicing magic, long conversations about the nature of spells and the pros and cons of different magical theorists, that sort of thing. Most people would describe it as 'dull.'" Strange has a wry little smile on his face as he talks. He knows that his profound nerdiness and love of academia (or at least, academic arguing) is definitely the sort of thing most people would scoff at.

Shura can recognize quality when she tastes it, raising her cup to his before she downs her shot. It's the kind of thing that deserves more than a dingy tin cups, something bigger that would let them savor. But this is all they have, and so it has to make do.
She pours for both of them again, this time taking time to enjoy her sips.

"You say debatin' and discussin', but none of you came prepared with something to drink?" Shura doesn't laugh, but damn, what a boring kind of life, especially without booze. But she had never been much for scheming or deep philosophical debates.

"Truth be told, most of our debates and discussions were impromptu. And unfortunately, none of the staff were alcoholic enough to have a bottle on them at all times."

He's slightly teasing but also slightly serious: Strange likes booze. And he likes debating. So he especially likes debating with booze.

"What about you? Did you ever have discussions like that in that military academy of yours?" He's suspecting the answer is 'no' but hey, no harm in asking.

"That's what pubs are for." Shura says, as if that should be a super obvious answer. Get out of the libraries and get some fresh air, nerds. But as for his question--

"But us? Nyahah, we were a practical school. We settled debates like that on the training grounds." It was the best way to settle out what technique or spell would work the best, after all. Shura cups her hand in front of her, pouring a bit of liquor into her palm before offering it to Shishi. The lion's ears are still flat against his head, but he'll give in and lap at the alcohol Shura offers him.

"They had strategy classes and all of that, but I usually skipped those."

But libraries were awesome and had a bunch of books, fresh air doesn't have books.

Strange makes a little nod of acknowledgment as Shura explains how her school worked. A practical academy. Makes sense, if you're training someone for the military, might as well get in as much experience as possible. Though he can't help but laugh when Shura mentioned skipping classes. Strange gives her a wide grin, obviously charmed by that idea.

"So I think it's a safe assumption to say that you weren't top of the class?" said with a wry, teasing sort of smile.

Take the books out into the fresh air and have a picnic?? Nerds make this so hard.

Shura purses her lips out, wrinkling her nose. "Bein' top of the class woulda been too much work!" Not that she couldn't have easily bested most of her peers in combat, but that wasn't the point. "I just wanted to play around and have fun, y'know? Listening to old men go on about this battle or that just put me to sleep."

Of course, being a nerd, he might appreciate old farts going on and on and on...

Strange is a nerd and does appreciate the idea of listening to old men go on about this and that—though his is more 'going on about magic' and less 'going on about battles.' He's still smiling, as he continues to chat with Shura. "Considering that some of my students chastised me for going on too long, I think we have different ideas of fun."

There's a pause as he looks out to the ocean, once again looking at the candles. Maybe it's the holiday, maybe it's the conversation, but Strange finds himself sinking a little into melancholy. "It's odd," Strange muses, still looking out at the ocean. "I left university after a point. I thought that it would be perfectly fine if I never saw any of them again. But now? Well, you don't know what you miss until it's gone."

If other dweebs told him off for rambling on, then he would have put Shura to sleep in an instant. Whatever it was he taught, he was probably pretty passionate about it. She makes a quick note to herself to never press him on whatever he taught.

Shishi finishes off his drink and is quick to rest his head on his paws and curl closer to Shura. She wipes her hand on her shorts, not realizing Strange's quiet until she looks up at him, following his gaze out to the water.

"There's a difference between choosing to run off from a place and having that place taken away from you." She replies, her voice soft. There is something familiar about that, thinking that she had lived a life that she could abandon without regret. A bitter laugh escapes her, and she downs the rest of her cup.

"True," Strange admits, with a soft little smile. After all, choosing to run off from something always meant that you could return. If he wanted to, he could have easily gone back then. But not now. His gaze is still out on the ocean as Strange adjusts his position slightly. Bell makes a little sighing noise as she turns her glance towards the ocean as well.

Not really looking at Shura, Strange continues talking. "If you could have anyone here who you had back in our proper time, who would it be?"

It's a possibly invasive question. But Strange is asking it anyway, as he slips further and further into nostalgia.

It is invasive, horribly so, but Shura is drunk and her heart hurts. She hates everything about this place.

“I wouldn’t bring either of them here,” she murmurs, her voice soft and low as she draws her knees up to her chest. She keeps her gaze towards the ocean, unfocused on any particular thing. “They don’t need to deal with this.” They deserve better than being caught up in some bastard’s mysterious plans. She didn’t even know what became of them, whether or not they survived the war or if she failed to protect them by getting killed so early on.

That's a sensible answer. And really, that should be what Strange would say. But he's far too honest to lie. Without really thinking, he reaches over to scratch Bell on the head as he talks.

"It's terrible to admit this, but I'm more selfish than you," Strange admits, as a small smile plays on his face. "I'd give up everything just to bring her here and see her face again."

Not like he could in the first place. Arabella didn't die on a battlefield like the rest of them did. And after a hundred years, the body's probably deteriorated enough that he couldn't use it in necromancy, not unless his skills drastically improved. She was dead and he would never see her again. He simply had to accept that.

To see her face again—his wife, Shura assumes.

“I haven’t known a man who forgot his first love.” Because it’s true, as far as she was concerned. It was just part of being a man across all races; the mad elf should hardly be the exception. It was the sort of sentiment she had spent most of her life avoiding because she understood what she would leave behind when her ancestor’s curse caught up with her.

Another cup for both of them. Shura won’t risk sobriety tonight.

"Am I that predictable?" he teases, knowing full well that he is that predictable. Ah well. Let him be a soppy romantic, he doesn't care at the moment. He takes another swig from the cup, then holds it down towards Bell so the hare can lap up some alcohol herself.

"She was more than my first love. Arabella was my reason for existing. Everything I did, I did to try and please her. The time I spent with her was the happiest in my life."

And suddenly, now that he's said the name of his wife, his hare's name makes sense.

"Now...well, I must move on." Which he obviously has mixed feelings about.

Predictable was a way to put it. A giant sap of a man. His wife must have have been either equally as crazy or a saint to put up with him. That or she really liked dogs.

Shura doesn't know how to reply to him. Probably, unless his wife leaned towards the crazy side, she would have wanted him to go on with his life and be happy. That was a kind of common sense. Shiro's words come to her mind, unbidden and unwelcome. Live on. She had finally wanted to try, but a knife in her side had more power than her teacher's words.

"That isn't something I know how to do," she admits. "Livin' and movin' on."

This makes Strange wonder: who was the person who Shura left behind? Or persons, as it might be. Her remark about 'either of them' still weighs on his mind. Still, no matter who it is, it's nice to know that she's a like mind.

"I don't really know how to do it either," Strange admits. He's got a few attempts at necromancy under his belt to prove that he doesn't know how to move on. "But I've got to at least try."

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