usir | The Calm Before the Storm Mini-Event


🜙 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.

🜙 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.


🜙 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 Ioanrí. 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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Perhaps if she transformed? The urge is there, to shift to four legs, to let herself be a wolf to meet this other - but it would be foolish to let her guard down so in front of a stranger, even if he has a companion that she feels a kinship with. Instead, she watches him, her eyes flicking over his features, down to the sword in his hand, before she relaxes, just enough to breathe out.

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?"

Were he to know that she could change as well, he would feel an immediate ease with this woman. His ability was kept close to his chest, not wanting to risk a mistake, the same sort he made in his prior life. Instead, he could only look at this woman as a curious one, but someone he was intrigued by.

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."

Each movement she makes is calculated with care and precision, watching as if circling some kind of trap of threat to her very nature. It's clear that she doesn't trust strangers, that she has no desire to do anything except hide herself away and peek out to gain something, to learn something - and his movements, his actions, have caught her eye. The offer is enough to keep her interested, even if she's unsure of her own confidence.

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."

She seems just as cautious, both of them circling each other in the manner of wolves, watching and assessing as best they were able. He wasn't naturally closed off, but his former life had left him guarded. With her, he couldn't really read her. Either she had a natural skill at hiding her thoughts or he never had the ability to tell. He would believe either.

"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.

Lauralae is not able to simply sit and accept someone new, no matter what connection she might feel with them - him having a wolf makes her more comfortable, true, but it does not mean she is going to let down her guard. He is still a strange, someone new, someone different, and there's clear tension in the shape of her face and the clench of her jaw.

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."

He doesn't begrudge her that suspicion. It wasn't something that he hadn't faced in his life. There were enough rumors about him in the past that made others look at him with uncertainty and fear. There were at least very few who knew of him or his ability to shift.

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."

What shapes Lauralae is her obvious uncertainty, and her gaze never flickers too far away from Robb's face. She's definitely more wild animal than she is anything else, not turning her back to him and not running the risk of stepping into a situation out of her control. She could transform and flee, of course, but at the same time, she has no desire to reveal herself so soon. It would be dangerous to give up all her secrets.

He is offering her a boon. She knows she will need to repay it.

"Very well." Rising to her full, if short, height, she steps closer and takes the sword in her hand. It's clear she has no idea what she is doing, her grip awkward and her frown settled as she turns it one way then the other, examining it.

"It is much larger than a dagger," which sounds foolish now she has said it aloud.

The animal instinct is familiar to Robb, something that has since shaped him since returning to life. Lauralae didn't seem threatening, the animal side of him normally able to sense if something wasn't completely right (though that was never a guarantee). He made the difficult decision to extend a measure of trust to her, willing to teach her combat.

It could blow up in his face, but it wasn't the first mistake he fell into

"It is, it has more weight to it too. If you don't hold it a certain way, I could give you a tap and the sword will fall from your hands." He bumped his sparring sword against hers, not hard enough to actually knock it out of her grip, but to emphasize the point.

He hesitated but moved next to her, adjusting her hand so that she could properly hold the sword. "This is the stance," he fell into the pose to show her, ready to help her shift her body if she allowed it.

Perhaps, she thinks, perhaps she ought to return to Dany and Jon, to see if they might train her, aid her; they have a common cause, seeking to raise and protect their beasts themselves, to make sure that their newly hatched eggs are not harmed. It might be in their benefit to train her, and Lauralae could offer them something in return, something they might need.

For now, however, she accepts this as a gift, a reward, and does not turn her gaze from him and, grip strengthening, she nods her head.

"I will have to adjust to the weight." She has never had to use a blade like this before, relying on teeth and nails and blood magic before now, but even she knows that it is folly to believe that those gifts might be enough to save her. Slowly, she turns her body and stands a little taller, adjusting and slipping into the pose - not perfect, but better than it was before.

She does not flinch as he comes close, but it is a near thing.

The Calm Before the Storm Mini-Event

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