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Event #6 Arkoda's Awakening & the Wyrm Moon
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| đźś™ Arkoda's Awakening. | ||
| With the emergence of hibernating creatures and the arrival of the thaw, Arkoda's awakening is being celebrated across Idan. In Krimnos, King Sitka, adorned with the white laurels of peace, announces the opening of the Krimnos Greenhouse to all of Idan, the many magical plants within it available to any in the general public who might have need of them. The Hymn of the Mountains tolls out gently from the crystal bells in Arkoda's temple, and the Krimnos knights hold a competition of skill in Hippogriff Flight Courses, Aerial Jousting, Archery, Armed Combat, and Unarmed Combat that is open to all. Participants have the chance to take on the mantle for themselves and join Krimnos' Knights, with the winners of each category potentially acquiring a rare Hippogriff from the Krimnos Aviary or a horse from the stables and a hefty sum of gold. In Didymos the celebration is split between the quarters. In the overlook quarter Queen Adira pardons a number of people from serving out time for their crimes with the option of joining the crew of any of the large fishing fleets or assisting the academies in keeping the buildings orderly, and a celebration of the Didymos justice system includes debates and elections for the Queen's staff of judges and advisors. In the ocean quarter, the fishermen are celebrated with sea shanties, shoreline bonfires, dancing, music, and a jubilee for the upcoming spring, all culminating in a grand feast where the main dishes feature fish, berries, boars, rabbits, fruits, nuts, and various honeyed sweets and drinks. No one talks about the shortage of fish in the bay, or the dragon that emerged from it last month. In the chaos surrounding the City of the Free Peoples, a group of rebel fighters in conflict with the city's current self-proclaimed leader are holding a celebration for anyone to attend at the Immortal Duke well into the night that focuses on bolstering spirits and joyfully, loudly, singing and dancing in spite of Captain Koroc's threats. Oddly, the Defenders seem unwilling to make a move on the heavily warded inn and everyone who joins in seems to lose their worries and cares the moment they step foot over the threshold. An elf with blond and brown streaked hair offers support and uplifting words and gives a speech at one point in the night that seems to really rally the crowded inn's crowd, promising that brighter days are soon to come and that before long the city will belong to the people once more, with no need to fear their true leader. There is even a mocking play that makes light of the former and current rulers. An armadillo beastfolk depicts Captain Lykos as timid and uncertain, waffling over decisions and eventually curling himself into an armored ball and rolling away off stage. An orc with horns on his head plays Koroc as a bullish brute that charges a mysterious masked and taunting character with a cape, careening right off the stage behind him and into a pile of prop boxes where he is 'slain' by his own stupidity. | ||
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| đźś™ Arkoda's Awakening: Potion Seller | ||
| The black markets of the three cities are constantly moving, never lingering in the same place for long. You may not have even known you were in it, were it not for the battle-scarred hyena and his human friend calling out to you with a gruff barked "Hey," followed by a smooth as silk sing-song "I know what you've been searching for." Against your better instincts, you find yourself compelled, stepping one foot after the next over to the harmless looking alchemy market stand. Nearly a hundred colorful bottles and vials of assorted shaped are stacked and stored around the lantern-lit stand. "You'll know which potion you need when you find it." The singsong voice of the woman washes against you like a reassuring touch, and she holds both hands out palms up, gesturing to her many wares. The leering hyena beastfolk beside her grins dangerously at you, winking. "If you think you can handle them." There's something unusual about them, they almost seem to shimmer in the light. As you pick up one of their offered vials you feel a dizzying sensation as if the earth has suddenly gone out from beneath your feet. You catch yourself on a tree and look up to find yourself standing in the middle of a mostly empty marsh somewhere between Didymos and the City of the Free Peoples. You're disoriented, confused, and your head is pounding. It feels as if you just went on an all-night drinking bender. The vial is gone, as is the market, but you aren't alone. Another individual is picking themselves up out of the marsh beside you, feeling the same effects of an unfortunate encounter with the tricksters or perhaps they were just out for a walk when you appeared out of nowhere and knocked into them. | ||
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| đźś™ The Wyrm Moon: Wolves of AtrĂłmitos | ||
| King Ardis and his men have set up camp in an abandoned village near the outskirts of the City of the Free Peoples while the roguish leader of Didymos' ocean quarter attempts to get Captain Koroc to agree to assisted mediation from him and his men. So far his request has been repeatedly scoffed at by the towering red orc who views the man's attempts at diplomacy as a power grab. Dozens of rebels remain locked in custody of the Defenders and the knights of the City of the Free Peoples seem on edge, an air of anxious and paranoid tension rampant in the warcamp while a feeling of distrust and fear permeates the city itself. Prior to the Wyrm Moon, Captain Koroc declares that King Ardis' presence is an act of war and that the city is now under his rule. The City of the Free Peoples is still in a state of internal conflict. Their unofficial leader, Captain Lykos, has been missing since the end of December and in the wake of his disappearance, a red orc named Koroc has declared himself the new leader of the Defenders of the City. His greed for power has progressed over the months he has been in command of the army of Defenders, and he has now claimed himself King Koroc, rightful ruler of the city and its people, calling the city once more by the more familiar name of AtrĂłmitos. His erratic, increasingly violent behavior and the fairly fresh scars covering one of his arms make him an even more fearsome sight than the already over-sized orc had previously been to behold. Even his most trusted fellow Defenders seem nervous in his presence. Dervish, the smaller orc that has been at his side since Captain Lykos' disappearance is quieter, remaining behind him rather than beside him. Dozens of citizens are locked up in cells in a makeshift Defender's warcamp prison and a struggle for power has risen to the surface. King Ardis is willing to help find a diplomatic solution by force if necessary, waiting outside the city with a small force of soldiers and putting out calls for information on the situation to help him help the people of the city. The newly recovered Captain Lykos is laying low, assessing the state of the city and searching the network for supporters to reach out to while he waits out the full moon. The rebels numbers are depleted but their current leader, an enterprising elf named Lorna with connections willing to fund her attempts to take back the city, is reorganizing her people and recruiting people to the cause of putting the city in saner, more capable hands. Koroc's new leadership seems to involve enforcing militaristic force and overbearing control over the city, but he is making broad claims of returning the city to its former glory, assuring his people that when he is in power, Didymos and Krimnos will give their city the respect they've been denied since the fall of AtrĂłmitos Things have come to a violent final head, and the actions of everyone involved over the next few weeks could alter the City of the Free Peoples forever. As the full moon rises over the city's internal conflict, fearsome howls fill the brightly moonlit night and dozens of werewolves emerge from the shadows, attacking the newly re-named AtrĂłmitos and the city's outskirts with a pack mentality rarely seen in the usually lone, cursed creatures. They hunt together, clawing their way from the wilderness toward the city, eyes blood red in the night, their black fur allowing them to melt into the shadows. The defenders can be seen all over the outskirts of the city, armed and ready, their response time impressive. Dervish leads them, and they beat back the werewolf attack. It's clear the werewolves are out for blood. Some of them make it through the Defenders' defensive lines, but many of the creatures retreat and turn their claws and teeth on the farmers and King Ardis' camp. | ||
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| đźś™ The Wyrm Moon: Dawn of Dragons. | ||
| Under the light of the larger than usual wyrm moon, the claimed dragon eggs scattered across Idan begin to hatch. The dragons that emerge from the eggs have no magical abilities, no flight, and no voice, but their personalities will grow and define rapidly. All but one of the hatching eggs found its way into the clutches of an awakened, for better or for worse. A lone egg, hidden away in a crate on Didymos' shore is found by the Didymos guards on patrol sometime after the waters have cleared. They take their discovery to Queen Adira, who is faced with a startling discovery. Another dragon outside Didymos. A proud denizen of truth and justice, she makes a courier post visible to all of Didymos, allowing them to see the hatchling for themselves, and explaining the circumstances of its discovery. She admits she is unaware of whether or not there may be more such creatures but assures her citizens that her scholars will be closely monitoring the hatchling. It is a frightening awakening for Didymos, but Queen Adira insists that until they know where it came from, if there are more of them, and if this creature is a threat, she and her advisors will be keeping it contained and monitored. Its kind may have destroyed the kingdoms of old, but she implores her people not to let that color their judgment. Frowning, she reluctantly admits that the actions of the people and creatures of the past must not be used to sentence people and creatures of the present and that if they travel down that road it would darken the clarity of justice they uphold in Didymos. Understandably, reactions throughout the city are wildly mixed. | ||
| đźś™ Note. | ||
| April's plot write-up will feature a follow up on both the Einjar Excursion and the Wyrm Moon events. Next month players will be helping to decide the future of the City of Free Peoples: Its name, its leader, and how it reforms following the conflict that has divided it and caused a rift of fear and confusion between its people. | ||
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wild card-ish; wyrm moon
Despite his preoccupation, he invites himself when Billie heads out for the night, wanting to see these werewolves for himself. Unsurprisingly, he doesn’t do it like a normal person, choosing to shadow Billie from a distance and observe while she scouts them out and brings one down with Shura (and Strange, technically, though his contribution is debatable) — but surprisingly, it isn’t subtle when he does finally decide to do more than watch. While Billie’s engaged with a werewolf in combat, Mercy drops out of the sky, breathing flame on a werewolf trying to come up around Billie’s flank. The smell of scorched fur fills the air and the wolf yelps in fear, only to cut off with a gurgle as a knife slams into its throat, wielded by the shadow that’s appeared next to it.
It’s only wolfsbane-dipped, not silver, so its unlikely to be immediately fatal. But if nothing else, it’ll slow this one down.
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The flash of fire and the smell of burning puts the one she's fighting off for a moment, giving her a chance to push it back from getting its jaws around her head. Her mask has long since been knocked aside, the jaws having come close enough to run a shallow scratch up her chin, but taking her chance to push it off balance, she does just that and follows up with a thrust of her own sword.
It slices straight through its belly, the stench of burning flesh joining the fur as somehow her sword cauterizes as much as it stabs. That leaves the werewolf howling when she pulls it free again, then staggering back and hunching over before trying to turn, to flee.
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“You want these alive, too?” he rasps, for Billie’ benefit. It certainly didn’t look like she had the option of exercising choice, just now, but asking seems wiser than assuming.
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She raises a hand to idly rub her chin as she watches the werewolf drag itself away. The cut's shallow, so she deems it nothing to worry about (and it isn't, considering what she already is). Only once she's settled that does she say anything.
"I don't like killing other shifters if I don't have to," she says something that, chances are, he already knows. Being paid for it is one thing, doing it out of terrible necessity... That's different. No one asks to be cursed like this. "But that thing's not going to heal from fast enough to beat dawn."
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“Not with a wound from a sword like that." Daud steps off the werewolf where it’s snarling weakly on the ground, braver than its companion — or just too injured to realize its own chances of survival. Already, the light's fading from the beast's eyes, and it shudders and goes limp, blood staining the ground below it.
But there's no sense in leaving a job unfinished. An injured werewolf is still dangerous -- and infectious -- to someone with less of an expertise with a sword as Daud and Billie. So without a word, the tiefling blinks out of sight again, reappearing over the fleeing werewolf in a series of short hops, before silently dropping down. Well, silent except for the distinct sound of a body hitting the ground, that is. It won't take long for the tiefling to reappear after that, unsmiling, a cloth deftly cleaning away the ichor from his blade before he tucks it away.
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"I could've done that," she says with curt edge to the words. The least she can do is finish what she started, like she owed the damn thing that much. By now, she's let the heat fade from her sword, enough to sheathe it without burning anything else. There won't be much magic lingering around it once she does that, unlike a real enchantment.
Even though he did mention it, she just continues to ignore it. Pretending like it's nothing is for the best, she assumes, and she simply moves to go fetch her mask once the sword is away.
"So you were lurking around while we were wrangling that other werewolf for Shura?"
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“Seemed like you three had it in hand. Did she get what she needed out of it?”
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That's the real source of her ire.
It's petty, she knows.
"If you mean did she get a werewolf? Sure, but she can't talk to them until morning. That was the whole point of that."
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"Then we'd best move these bodies and take a look at our wolves," he says, simply. He's pretty sure he can guess their general profile, based on where the attacks have been taking place, but just in case...
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"Out of the moonlight if you want their true forms," she adds, even though she suspects he already knows. They've tangled with werecreatures before. Not this many but the rules shouldn't have changed in a hundred years. In any case, she goes for the one out in the open with them, moving the werewolf through transverals rather than pointless dragging.
It's from the open street to the alley, down that to where the second one lays, dead by Daud's hand, and then it's just a matter of finding a spot without the moon touching it. It'll end up being a tunnel housing a road running under a bridge, simple as that.
Once they're out the moonlight, it's only a matter of minutes before the fur begins to recede and the bodies shrink down. One turns out to be human and the other, a young-ish looking beastfolk of the feline variety, as irony would have it.
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All he says though, is—
“One of them scraped you.” If she thought he was going to miss commenting on that... “Do you feel anything odd?”
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"It isn't deep enough to worry about," she assures him. To someone who doesn't know her, that might sound like an arrogant thing to assume when dealing with lycanthropy, of all things, but considering Daud already knows what she is?
"I may have a headache tomorrow but I don't think I'll wake up with whiskers."
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Nor, he thinks, does his understanding lie much in trying to discern what's happening here. That Koroc is likely involved in the creation of these new werewolves, there's almost no doubt, and yet...
"Koroc couldn't have bitten as many people like this alone, could he?" Daud asks, quietly.
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But she isn't going to go over that again, not when there are two dead werewolves and a lot of questions in front of them.
"Bite one person, they bite two more," she suggests with a shrug. "We would have to start monitoring the Defenders a lot more closely to tell if Koroc has a few in there with him. As it is, I think I'd rather track him down and put a hunk of silver through his--"
She doesn't finish that train of thought, head jerking up. She pauses, very still, head cocked and brow furrowed as if trying to pinpoint some unheard sound.
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But that has to fall by the wayside when Billie stiffens like that, and the tiefling immediately discards that train of thought to focus on her instead.
"What is it?" He doesn't even question she's sensing something -- he knows she has senses he doesn't. He just doesn't realized, right now, exactly what that means.
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Whatever it is she seems to be hearing, she doesn't look like she particularly likes it.
She does finally more, though, looking Daud's way.
"There's something need to go check on." How she knows that has no explanation forthcoming. "Try and stay off the streets until I get back. I can survive a few scrapes from a werewolf but you can't."
That said, her form flickers with the same spell as always and she's up on the roof, then moving away to gods even knows where. Overall, it's suspect. There's only ever been one person who could summon her like that before — if that's, indeed, what that is and it sure looks similar — but that person happens to be the exact same one she's leaving behind right now.
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Daud knows a futile cause when he sees one, which is ultimately why he'll go for the more pragmatic route of trailing her across the rooftops. He doesn't go as far as to follow doggedly at her heels but Mercy takes wing overhead and follows her as she races away, Daud tailing her from a distance.
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Of all the places Billie could possibly be going, it turns out to be the same abandoned house that Daud took over just before leaving for Einjar. It was a risky move but it had also been meant as a temporary one, what she hid there to be moved as soon as the full moon had passed.
As it is, she ends up going through a window that had been blocked by debris before and therefore left mostly untouched by the tiefling for the time being. She must have cleared it out one way or another, though that's just another -- and less important -- mystery to add to the growing pile.
Inside is going to be an odd sight, too. It isn't only that she's holed up in the unopened room herself. That's likely not the surprise. What is will be how she's left her animas there and she's joined Deirdre, both of them peering into a crate stuffed with straw, the blanket that had been covering it thrown aside. Small, ferret-like chirps and trills are coming from it and that's definitely the source of Billie's brand new worries.
"Of all the nights you choose to hatch, it's got to be the one full of werewolves? You aren't even supposed to exist, you know that, right?"
Well, no, the thing in the crate definitely doesn't know that. It's just going to keep whining at her and she's going to carry on having no fucking clue what to do here.
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Daud’s long mastered the art of landing silently on his hooves, but Billie’ll still hear the soft fwumph of cloth shaking out as the tiefling drops in behind her, rising up so he can see over her shoulder what’s arrested her attention.
“Billie,” his voice rasps, her name a low warning in the dark.
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The sound of cloth sliding in past the windowsill has her tensing up, though she doesn't move from the crate. Reaching for her sword may not go over well right now. Deirdre's a little less calm, turning to eye Daud and immediately puffing up her feathers.
"Daud," she answers her name with his own, not as quiet but just as much a warning. She'll grip the edge of the crate rather than turning to watch him, leaving it up to Deirdre to warn her if he does do anything more than look past her shoulder.
Even in a room only lit by the moonlight from outside, the small, winged figure is distinct, crying softly from amongst the remnants of an egg — a dragon, so small but so terribly distinct.
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The tiefling doesn't raise his voice -- he never does, not really -- but it's clear in the still air of the room.
"I thought I told you to destroy that egg." It's not an accusation, and it's not even disappointment. Daud just sounds tired.
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"But I didn't," is what she settles on, simply that.
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"What's next, Billie? Planning to become a priestess? Start a cult of your own?"
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"Funny words to hear coming from you, old man, or did you forget you think I should be doing something else with my second life? It's not like starting a cult is any different from what you did."
Billie Lurk is not, in fact, going to start a damn cult but if he's going to an ass — and he is, for all he never sounds like he ever leaves a single monotone emotion at any time — she'll fight fire with fire.
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"And that's why I know nothing ever good comes of playing at being a god. It fools you," he rasps, voice slow and enunciated, tail curling in the air behind him. "You think you're the master of that power, but you're the one who's dancing to its tune."
His gaze swings over to the whimpering dragon. He hasn't reached for his blade, but the lines in his face seem starker, somehow, cast deeper in shadow. The weight of years Billie hasn't had to live through.
"There's always someone who pays for our choices," he murmurs, his gaze falling on the dragonet. "Who'll be paying for this this one?"
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