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The Calm Before the Storm Mini-Event
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π By the Sea | |
With the return of life to the bay the waters are once more shimmering, flashing, rippling and splashing with all manner of sea life. Dolphins perform acrobatic leaps and dances out in the deeper waters, fish dart in and out of the waves, following them to the shore and retreating with them. Near the Sunset Gate leading out into the Glass Sea the waving sail fins of small sea serpents or hunting flying fish can be seen breaking the surface before disappearing into or out of the bay.
The docks of Didymos are loud with cheerful songs and shouts as fishermen and merchants work together to load or unload the Didymos fleet of fishing ships, and the sudden influx of fish causes the previously quiet, hungry city to erupt back into vibrant life practically overnight. As Didymos dives back into renewed daily life, spectators observe the city from the edges of the bay, sneaking closer to shore in the hours of dusk and dawn, studying the people and the boats but not interfering unless specifically engaged. If those who encounter them react with hostility, the merfolk respond in kind, attacking with water magic, spears, or weighted nets and throwing weapons made of lashed-together shark teeth. If they do not sense hostility, however, they quietly and curiously mimic the actions, facial expressions, and rough sounds of those who make eye contact or try to speak to them. | |
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π Return to Einjar Preparations | |
After the volunteers have taken the oath, King Sitka introduces a tall, dark-haired elf to the group as Ser Medraut, Expedition Leader and Lead Commander of the Krimnos Knights. Medraut and Sitka explain what happened on the last trip to Einjar and caution that they do not know what to expect with this excursion, only that things have gotten more dangerous in the mountains since the last trip and they need to get to the root of the problem before whatever happened to Einjar happens to Preciposte or Krimnos.
Following the briefing, the volunteers are given rooms in a currently unused inner wall barracks, should they wish to take them. They can temporarily live together in this space and be provided with food, armor, weaponry, clothing, small personal rooms, warm showers, and anything they might request to bring along on the mission, as well as the opportunity to get to know the others who will be with them. The knights do not remain in the same area, returning to their own barracks on the other side of the gate. Those under oath are able to discuss the mission or anything else freely with each other and can find maps and the plans to the new airships at their disposal. | |
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π The Travelers | |
On the night of the full moon the moon rises an unsettling pinkish-red in the sky. Normally this offset hue isn't paid much heed but with the call of more werewolves in the air, the color only adds to the general air of unsettled discomfort permeating every corner and cabin in and around the city. Once again Koroc is no where to be seen, and once again the defenders keep the unified pack of attacking werewolves at bay.
In the days following the full moon, the surrounding wildlands and the city streets are disturbingly quiet. Many residents of the city forego their day to day activities in favor of hiding in their homes and the Defenders seem to be the only ones patrolling the streets. Until a few days after the full moon when a large caravan of boats arrives from the North floating down the river into the canal streets. The boats are covered in colorful canopies and the people who emerge from them are a mixture mainly of humans, beastfolk, arboreons, satyrs, and tieflings with a few dwarves and kobolds tagging along. They wouldn't normally be an unusual sight, their garb giving off the familiar impression of the traveling merchants, except that the city is meant to be closed off to anyone entering during this crisis and the traveling merchants don't usually arrive for spring trading until May. The Defenders seem confused by their sudden appearance. Their attempts to bar the strangers from entering the city are met with passive responses as towering arboreons lift them up to set them aside or dwarves duck under their arms and weapons to continue on without breaking step or their current conversations. They speak with thick mountain accents and wear brightly colored clothing. The unusual group makes their way toward the still standing fixture of the Immortal Duke carrying large barrels and casks they proudly proclaim to be wines or ale. Gifts from the North. As they pass through the streets windows and doors open and the eyes of the city follow their paths. The boats in the canals are left tied and unguarded and curious winged cats quickly overtake the colorful playgrounds. They are soon joined by inquisitive children and brave city dwellers wanting to learn more about the guests who seem so unperturbed by the city's unwelcoming display. During the night a large, central section of the warcamp is set on fire by a volley of arrows from outside the city and the resultant spread and destruction of fire through the warcamp absorbs much of the Defenders' forces and attention. During the resulting chaos the Duke's front doors are flung open and the sound of raucous laughter and merriment spill out of the old building's creaking doors and windows, drawing in even more spectators and curious folk. A smaller group of Defenders rally to seemingly storm the Duke armed with torches and weapons, but despite shouted demands for them to set the building alight for harboring the rebellion they make no move to attack it, enchanted by magic older than the rebuilt city that prevents those with intent to kill the patrons or destroy the Duke from lifting a hand or claw against the once favored drinking grounds of King IoanrΓ. Eventually, Dervish arrives and orders the Defenders back to the warcamp to help with the fires Inside the Immortal Duke the casks and barrels are nowhere to be seen but it seems Lorna is footing the bill for any and all drinks, food, or beds claimed by any patrons of the old tavernkeep for the evening. She can be seen having a cheerful conversation with a dwarf woman at one of the upper-level tables, but neither move to join the festivities below. An unusual satyr with striped legs carrying an unfamiliar instrument and an avian beastfolk with very colorful plumage sing unfamiliar songs by the fire. The strangers seem eager to talk to anyone willing to listen. If asked where they come from their response is vague but forthcoming: Either Over the mountains. or Far, Far Away |
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Robb Stark | OTA
It's been a long while since Robb had been near the ocean. He had stayed in the inn since his arrival, growing used to being back, his animus and the changes in the world. But slowly, as he was drawn more outside to explore and see these advances, he was drawn back to the docks.
Stepping onto the wooden planks, he could remember being a boy and watching the fishermen come in. Raynald had once been among them, one of the friendlier orcs he had ever met, but thinking of him always lead him back towards the darker memories he had firmly decided not to think about.
Like he had before, he collected some semblance of lunch for himself and sat on the edge of the pier, watching the waters. In the distance, he could see creatures popping from under the water, watching with the same curiosity that Robb held for them. They followed his movements and when he called to them, they mimicked his voice.
"Merpeople?" He asked the person drawn by the sight. "It's been awhile since I've seen them."
II. Return to Einjar Prep
Robb was woefully out of practice in using a sword. Even the gleam of steel brought a sharp bolt of fear in him. Before this mission, he needed time to grow used to the feel of a weapon in his hand and a chance to become comfortable around steel again. Wasn't that ironic? A former knight with a fear of blades.
It was enough to push him harder than he might have otherwise. It wasn't simply about honor (though that played a part), it was refusing to let those that cut him down win again. He wanted to be ready for the day any of them were revived and then see justice was done.
For now, at least, he needed to practice. The training dummy was hacked into several times, twirls and attacks coming naturally to him, instinct kicking in. When finally he stopped to catch his breath, he turned to find someone watching him. "How long have you been there?"
II.
She doesn't expect to be spoken to, but it comes and she frowns, leaning back. A raven is settled comfortably on her shoulder, leaning against the hood of her cloak, and when she speaks her voice is low and quiet, almost too soft in the middle of all the preparations.
"Not long. You are good with a blade."
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"Was good, my lady." He had no illusions about his current level. His body was still trying to remember what he had instinctively known in his former life. "I'm a bit out of practice now." Much to his chagrin and embarrassment.
"You come to train as well?"
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"Better than some," she admits, low and careful. It's not as if she has much knowledge to draw upon - swordcraft had never been her area. She relied on magic, on her teeth, on nails and a dagger. It worked for hunting and she had never wanted for more than that.
Carefully, she frowns.
"I do not know how to use a sword."
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He smiled, bowing his head to her. "Thank you." She was right, even if he was feeling shaken about his abilities. He would take the compliment for the kindness that it was meant to be. "With time, I hope to regain my instinctual ability."
He regarded her, glancing between her and his blade. "I could teach you?"
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He doesn't seem to be too great a threat. Not yet.
"It will come. Returning has been different for all." Hers had been easier, perhaps, due to lack of talent in some areas.
The offer, though, has her interest, and she steps an inch closer.
"What for?"
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There were a few sparring swords nearby, dull and ready for anyone to train or learn with. He sheathed his blade and took hold of one of the sparring swords, giving it a small twirl. Perhaps he was showing off, perhaps not, who could say?
"When did you return?" He asked. His was too recent that the lingering feeling of death still held heavily on his mind.
"My sister would say just to learn, but she had a fondness for this sort of exercise."
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She cannot simply trust a stranger. The last time she had trusted one...
Frowning, she breathes out.
"Some months ago." He doesn't need more details than that, surely? Her eyes are trained on his hand, on the swords he carries with such ease. "I meant what you would ask for it in return for tutoring."
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"Nothing." She caught him off guard with that. It wasn't the sort of response he expected. He certainly didn't need anything, not a favor or any coin. With anyone else he might feel affronted (though he often responded in a similar way. Feeling the need to repay a debt.) "I don't want anything."
Some months ago. Others had time to grow used to being back while he still felt...adrift and uncertain.
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She does not quite have the strength to trust so easily, not anymore.
"Nothing." She frowns, watching him. Such a simple trade - training for nothing - does not sit well with her, but she can find a means of repaying him sooner rather than later. She's sure she can learn something that she can give him... She's sure.
Stepping forward, she nods her head.
"Very well."
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Trust was a delicate thing and he had lost his ability to extend it easily anymore.
"Nothing," he repeated. This wasn't something that required a debt. It was a simple skill passed along to someone who might make use of it. If anything, training her would allow him to get back into form.
He holds out the tourney sword for her.
"We need to start with stance."
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i.
The excited shouts draw Dany closer to the docks. She's wary of the bay, and for good reason. Dying isn't the most pleasant of experiences. Still, when she catches sight of a familiar mop of reddish, curly hair, she determines to step closer. After her second death, she'd sat at the dock's edge. Why be fearful, now?
"You saw them often?" she asks, looking to him after watching the creature mimic him. "Can't say I ever did."
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"I used to come to the docks when Raynald returned with his catch." It was the first time he had given voice to the name buried in the back of his mind. That it was to this woman, a stranger and not his brother was surprising. "Sometimes we'd sail and they would swim alongside. It's never wise to get too close to them."
One of the many times he fought alongside his brother in law.
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"Why not?" She's heard plenty of tales. More often than not, she's learned, stories were merely stories. A point of reference for the ignorant. "Seems they're pleasant enough to be near. Have you ever spoken to one?"
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At least here he could better admire the color of her hair as the sun's light brushed against it, like a lover's fingers through her curls.
"They become hostile if you get too close." They seemed pleasant now, but he had seen them attack other fishermen quite easily, dragging them down into the water with only a few air pockets remaining behind. "It's possible to approach one, I think, but I have never seen it done. They might view you as a threat."
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"That was before, wasn't it?" Now she cuts him a look, noticing he's watching her. "People can change."
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He might joke about it, but if she did try, he'd make the first move in her place. Whether or not she was Jon's lady, he wasn't about to put someone in danger. "Do we?"
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There's not much further she can walk on the dock, so it's a matter of whether the merfolk will oblige. So far, the one mimicking Robb is waving back at her.
"All the time we do. Look at the cities now and how different they are from our memories."
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As she moved along the dock, he fell into step alongside her. He had no bow, so there was no way to fight back against the merfolk, if they tried to pull them beneath the waters. But it was better not to be armed, if only because they wouldn't find them to be threats.
"Men don't change. We're all beasts at heart."
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At least he keeps in step with her. Truthfully, she might prefer speaking of her hair than hearing such jaded talk.
It earns him a sharp look over her shoulder. "Literally, ser?"
Dangerous grounds, Dany. Just because one brother was a shiftling doesn't mean another will be. She shouldn't be fishing for that information.
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He was unapologetically jaded. Too much war and brutality had left its impression in him.
"I'm not a ser anymore." He replied simply. It didn't answer her question and it wasn't something he was eager to clarify. The secret was a deadly one in his experience.
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by the sea
"They seem to be in a good mood, don't they?" For all that had been going on before.
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It honestly could be either and it wouldn't be the first time it happened.
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"So long as we pickin' a fight with each other, it's fine either way, I guess."
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"We have time for that in Einjar."