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May Event Log A: The Song of Suffering.
| 🜙 Bottom | ⤛ Navigation |
| 🜙 Mod Note | |||||||||||
| The Song of Suffering's resolution is jointly dependent on the choices all our players make (Who will take charge of the city?) and on the resolution of the Return to Einjar excursion. After you have read through this post please respond to This Poll as soon as you feel comfortable making the choices in it. Please respond even if your character is not participating in this event as the choice made effects the game world/all players. | |||||||||||
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| 🜙 First Blood April 26th | |||||||||||
| In the late afternoon a challenge is made over the courier by Captain Lykos challenging the 'King' to come and properly fight him for control of the Defenders the way the old orc custom the Defenders were built on demands. In the message, he calls Koroc a coward and a thief, unfit for his role in the Defenders and unprepared to handle the even larger role he has claimed for himself. He accuses Koroc of not even trying to manage the werewolf curse he and Lykos share and says he may be to blame for Koroc's affliction, but Koroc's reckless endangerment of the city is to blame for the rise in werewolf attacks on the city. Lykos sets the battleground as King Ardis' camp outside of the city, a neutral ground away from the citizens who could get hurt in the crossfire. An enraged, Koroc takes a large group of his Defenders' newest forces out of the city to lead an attack on the former Captain and the invading King Ardis supporting him only to find the camp deserted of anyone but Lykos. The discussion between Lykos and Koroc appears publically on the couriers within the city, and everyone with a courier is treated to the impromptu visual of their meeting and the fight that follows it. Lykos gets Koroc to admit to working with the cult and imprisoning and using werewolves to attack the city, as well as implicating both himself and Koroc as werewolves as well before the feed ends, and the abrupt ending leaves the fate of the former captain uncertain. | |||||||||||
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| 🜙 Children of the Revolution April 26th-May ?? | |||||||||||
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With clear evidence now out that Koroc and the Defenders are not only working with some form of undead in their ranks, but also that both Koroc and Lykos are werewolves, Koroc's allies, Lorna's rebels, the strange travelers, and King Ardis's soldiers are all spurred into action, bringing the fight for the City of the Free People to a final confrontation for power. The city splits, rallying behind different sides in the battle. The battle encompasses the city streets and spills out into the surrounding land to the South and West of the city. The Defenders, their numbers padded with risen soldiers, hold the city. From within the rebels and the strange travelers fight the Defenders to force them out fo the city streets. Alice, Amy, and a small force of armed civilians and former revels focus on getting people out of the battle zones, teleporting people out where possible and defending them in an escape route out of the city with larger groups, while outside the city King Ardis and his knights storm the warcamp and put pressure on the Defenders, helping to clear a path out of the city. As the fighting overtakes the city another terrible set of howls sounds from the West beyond the city, and a pair of creatures join the fray. The white one assaults the city with unbridled destructive rage while the red one seems fixated on the people, hunting like a starved beast without pausing to feast on its downed prey. The beasts are unaffected by silver, wolfsbane, and other standard werewolf weaknesses and stand at around eleven feet tall, nearly twelve when straight-backed. They are closer to the size of a small swamp troll than an ordinary werewolf, their eyes glowing blue. The protrusions coming off of them are hardened bone and sharp enough to cause damage equivalent to spearheads or daggers if used to attack. Bites/Scratches from these creatures do not inflict any curses. They do not seem to fear anything but also appear to be mindlessly enraged. At different times during the onslaught from the mutated wolves a large white wolf appears, drawing the monsters away from fleeing citizens and members of all sides of the struggle, outrunning and distracting the creatures. | |||||||||||
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| 🜙 The Song of Suffering April 28th-May ?? | |||||||||||
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Two days later an unsettling prophetic orc threat from the not so distant past begins to ring true. The river that flows from the Northern mountains down through the City of the Free People begins to sing with ringing, echoing hums and runs red with a dark, thick liquid that looks like blood and smells like copper and rust. The touch of sound or liquid begins sending citizens into fits of raw, violent, amplified emotions. The fight for the city devolves into one of almost directionless, desperate violence and begins to lose what little point or meaning it had, spurred on by a madness that latches on to everyone within earshot or touch of the river and its endless ringing song. People quickly begin to change in more than just mood. Paranoia, Fury, or Desperation overtake them, causing mental and physical changes that reflect the emotion. More than one reflection can overtake people and while the infected waters remain so do the symptoms.
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closed to daud [cw: yep, more death and violence]
That had been a friend, hadn't it? Does it even matter anymore? Billie doesn't know and she reckons she doesn't much care as she reaches the end. Bleeding out in a filthy dead-end alley in some shithole neighborhood. If that same fear and paranoia wrapping so tightly around her weren't so keen to keep her in her shiftling form — smaller, faster, safer — she may have had the sense to laugh over that and tell herself it's exactly where she deserves to die...
At the wall of the alley, where it runs itself to an end against another building, is where she gives up, collapsing there in exhaustion, curling up. Not quite dead yet but with how heavily her sides rise and fall, wheezing piteously, it's only a matter of time.
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Eventually, though, he starts noticing something odd. Dead bodies that don't belong to Defenders or rebels, easy to miss if he wasn't using the dark alleys they've fallen in. It's little effort after that to pick up on the trail, to come across the signs of one that put up more of a fight than the others had. Two trails of blood and agony leading in different directions -- only one of them involving fur and distinctly inhuman tracks.
Daud's quiet as he comes into the alley, stepping carefully because he isn't sure what he'll find at the end of it. The cloak the tiefling's wearing has the trick of making him to seem to fade in and out of view as it flares around him, obscuring and revealing his form by turns, but stealth is the last thing on his mind as he approaches the wounded shiftling.
"Lurk."
He says her name, quietly, hand already on the hilt of the blade by his side.
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Billie doesn't give much more of a reaction than moving her head, turning it just enough to stare at him with one beady rat eye, trying to keep track of where he is as he fades in and out of sight with the cloak falling around his form. That she reacted to her name at all may betray some comprehension but how much exactly, it's hard to tell in this state. It could be enough to recognize him, it could be she's only reacting to someone, anyone at all, approaching her, but there's no immediate rush to violence, not yet. If anything, the sheer lack of reaction could be construed as reserving that energy for something else.
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It doesn’t change what he knows he needs to do. He draws his sword with the soft hiss of metal on leather and steps closer, still poised and alert.
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A faint rustle of feathers from behind will betray that she isn't here alone but that's the only warning Daud gets before Deirdre comes crashing down from the sky to attack the back of his head in a flurry of claws and wings and screeches, which is the exact same moment Billie acts.
Even in the throes of the river's madness, this had to have been planned on the spot, from the very second Daud stepping into the alley. Not that that thought matters much in the end. As the tern attacks, so does Billie, snapping forward to try and get her jaws around the nearest ankle, teeth searing hot with Epithymetikon's magic.
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“Stubborn to the last,” he rasps out. Too loudly.
Keeping his grip tight on his sword, he turns to aim to slam his back — and Deirdre clinging on him with it — against the wall, hoping to stun the tern, or spook it into letting go.
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It puts her to the ground same as Billie, although she won't remain stunned for long, already trying to right herself and get her wings in order quick. That's more than can be said for Billie, who collapses back to the alleyway with a despairing little sound that will go unheard by all but herself and the tern.
That was it, the last ounce of fight left. Anything that remains is all Deirdre, who hasn't bled it all out across the streets of the city just getting here.
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“Find me when you wake.” If she wakes. He pauses like he means to say something more, but it passes in half a heartbeat. The blade finds its mark swiftly, her heart under her ribs. It’s the only mercy he can offer her. When her body’s gone still, he bends to gather her into his arms, to take her home.
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Billie's form doesn't change back, mostly since there is no back, necessarily. This is her as much as her human self is, and, overall, that just makes her a lighter load to haul back to the house on the edge of the City.
A house that only looks abandoned on the outside but Daud should be expecting company the second he walks in. Even if he'd stowed Red away in the basket before heading out, he has, apparently, figured a way to clamber back out all on his own. That's the problem with children, isn't it? Always learning... and, in this case, watching. There's a thump as he jumps down from a cupboard to the table near the door, immediately making little trilling noises at him. They're inquisitive for now. He hasn't immediately caught on that the dead thing over his shoulder is Billie.
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He isn’t surprised to hear the dragonet moving around, but he ignores him for now. Billie’s blood has seeped into his clothes, but so has a quantity of water from her fur, something which he notices as he shakes out the worn canvas sheet on the threadbare couch to lay her out on.
Odd, he thinks, but it isn’t the only odd thing he observes as he sets about examining her more closely. Fur damp, but not with the red water from the river, wounds oddly reminiscent of burns...
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It's only a matter of another minute or two until the dragonet places the scent that goes with the blood with why it's so familiar. What Daud brought in is strange to him but...
It's fairly obvious he's figured it out when he starts whining in distress rather than chirping or making curious little trills. He still won't rush over to get in the way, though, opting to huddle up on the floor where he's taken a seat, feathery tail wrapping around him as he tries to make himself, well, very small.
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He can only wait. And in the meantime, there’s the living to attend to, as much as he’d like to stuff the wax plugs back in his ears and ignore it like he did the ringing. He folds the canvas over Billie, tucking the corners in and smoothing it neatly down before he turns to the dragonet, signing clearly and speaking firmly.
“Quiet now.” He straightens, padding over to the small washbasin and pitcher of water he’s set up on a side table. The small bit of water in it now seems even more precious, given the state of the river at present, but he’ll splash out some to soak a cloth so he can clean his gloves and his other leathers. It won’t remove the scent, but it should weaken it, if nothing else.
“She’ll be back.” He just doesn’t know when. Now, what else had Billie taught Red... “Stay here. Guard.” ‘Don’t eat’ was never on their list of signals, but he doesn’t think that’s a worry with this reaction.
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Of course, the next dilemma is 'stay'. When Daud moves, Red also moves to follow him, except then he gets that sign. It means he just stops in place, awkwardly placed in the middle of the floor, head swiveling between him and the covered body back on the couch. Here? Is he staying right here?
This young, he doesn't really get that 'here' undoubtedly means the house itself, but that kind of nuance isn't going to apply to Red for awhile yet.
groans at having to look up dog and bird training
“Step up,” he directs, quietly.
you've officially done more research on this than me
As such, he's a mystery he isn't allowed to climb all over and he's now offering him an arm. Daud may be surprised at just how fast Red perks up and jumps up onto his arm, wings flaring out a little to help him keep his balance.
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"Guard," he murmurs, indicating one end of the couch first, and then repeating the command again at the other, making it clear through speech and gesture that he's indicating the couch and all it currently contains as the objects he's meant to be protecting. The dragonet may not be able to talk, but he'll keep at it only for as long as he's sure he has Red's attention, after which he sighs and slowly moves to coax him off his arm and onto the emptier end of the couch.
"Stay."
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When Daud moves him down to the empty cushion, he does give a mournful cheep of sorts. Whether that's because of what else is on the couch or that it means 'hanging out with Daud' time is over is unknown, but he does clamber down off Daud's arm to the couch afterwards.
And there he'll flop over onto his side, much like a cat lounging around. Still watching Daud intently, but not making any move to leave that spot.
at some point while billie's dead daud traipsed off to fight koroc so uhh tbd
And shortly, so is the tiefling. He disappears for most of the remaining daylight, bound for parts unknown. Daud returns in the wee hours of the morning wearily, to feed the dragon (though he'll direct him away from the couch then) and fold himself down on the cot in the opposite corner of the room for shallow, uncomfortable sleep.
It only lasts a few hours, but Daud's tired enough not to push Red off if he insists on clinging close. His animas will take up the post of guarding the shrouded body, perching on the back of the seat and keeping an impassive watch over it.
billie's gonna be disappointed she missed that fight and only has herself to blame
Human again, though nearly as disheveled as the rat had been. Blood that may have stuck to her fur before doesn't vanish with the shift, it merely transfers to skin, to clothes, but that isn't her biggest concern. It isn't even Mercy, who's taken up Red's place to guard overnight. First, she checks her chest. That's healed. Then, her side, but that, too, carries nothing more than a phantom memory of a knife. She would have to pull off her coat to check but she's already sure no sign of damage will remain.
It's only after those frantic few motions that she looks up, checking her surroundings. Familiar. Her gaze eventually settles on Mercy, confirming she isn't alone, at least, and some of the tension bleeds from her shoulders. That relief is short-lived. Mercy's here. Daud killed her. Had to kill her, again. In all honesty, that memory alone isn't the only cause for the sudden rise of nausea that claws its way up from the pit of her stomach and—
She needs air.
Shoving the rest of the shroud aside, Billie staggers to her feet and heads for the closest door, the one that leads out the back. It's a small mercy that she'll get to retch in some privacy, even if it's just out of sight, even if it's just for the moment. The second round of resurrection is rougher than the first, which is something she's finding out in real time, right now, and it'll be out in the pre-dawn darkness that she's out in the yard, fallen on her knees, more or less at the whim of her stomach — and what it's rejecting wholeheartedly — at the moment.
Back in the house, the commotion has definitely woken Red, meaning there's suddenly a little dragon uncurling and trying to leap from the cot, already beginning to raise a racket.
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Besides that, he hasn’t yet ruled out the possibility that Billie may not have come back entirely herself. His blade is close enough to hand that he could reach it if he needs to.
As it turns out, he doesn’t need to. When Billie bolts from the house and starts throwing up outside, he’ll finally sit up, nudging the squalling dragonet off him, getting him clear of the sheets.
“Go.” He won’t be quick to follow. He doubts Billie would appreciate him seeing her undone, so he goes for the more practical route of getting up to start heating some water.
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It's a small kindness that it's still too dark to really make out what all of that was. She knows. She'd still rather not see.
She'd really rather not have to contest with a nosy dragonet suddenly appearing at her side and making curious noises at it, too, but that's also not a choice.
"...Red, no," she murmurs, pushing the chirping little beast away. Another cough but clearly nothing else coming up means she can probably move again and she'll do what she can to throw dirt over the mess before scooping Red up and slowly, carefully getting to her feet. It's an unsteady walk back to the back steps, which is as far as she feels like making it.
She's going to take a seat there instead of going inside just yet, focus torn between slow breaths, trying to keep herself calm, and keeping Red from clambering all over her. It takes about three attempts to remind him he knows what 'stay' is, then she can peel her gloves off and idly pet the whining dragonet, fingers brushing lightly along the feathered spines along his head and back.
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"If you want whiskey in that, it's inside," he tells her evenly, offering her one mug. He doesn't partake of alcohol himself as a general rule, prone to ordering one drink for show and then never finishing it, but that wasn't the top priority of the previous homeowners.
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As for the dragonet, he's settled down by now, though he does cheep at Daud as he joins them, which will be the only sound apart from the handful of crickets still chirping away in the pre-dawn hours, at least for a little while. She settles on staring down into the tea instead of off towards the city, waiting for it to cool some. She may not suffer from the scale's heat magic but she's already learned that doesn't necessarily protect her from other heat sources, like, you know, hot tea.
What the hell is she even supposed to say after the last few days? Mulling that over is the cause of her silence, trying to put words in some semblance of order, looking for an explanation that might alleviate the worst of this...
Only there is none. That's the answer she comes to every time, so, she settles on the unavoidable.
"I really screwed up out there," she say at last, voice rough from either dryness or illness or both all at once.
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"It's done," he says, simply. Magic may exist that can reverse the ravages to their bodies, but no magic Daud's aware of is capable of reversing the past. He could chide Billie for not taking precautions against the water's effects, and what came after, but what good would that do now? He's trained her to recognize her own mistakes without him needing to point them out. It's why she made such a competent student.
"You weren't the only one." He's not the type to fidget, but his tailtip flicks, slightly, as he waits to see whether she's inclined to fill in any blanks unprompted or if he'll have to get his answers out of her slowly.
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It's rattling to look back on, trying to make sense of the parts that all blur together. Daud won't have to dig for his answers but he will have to tolerate another silence, although she does finally look up again, just not towards him. She's tracking something in the sky. A bird, flying in, and that means Deirdre makes her appearance at last, in front of the steps and making the usual rude seabird noises at Billie.
Daud may not chide her but the animas is of a different opinion.
That at least gives Billie some relief, seeing her show up.
"Took you long enough," she complains right back at her but that's as far as she's interested in taking whatever little argument they're having. It happens mostly over whatever odd connection they have, forever unheard by Daud. Deirdre settles and turns her head to eye the tiefling and whatever else she must have said has Billie pursing her lips, looking thoughtful for a moment. She still won't look up at Daud but, apparently, after the little back-and-forth between her and her animas, she'll sigh and settle on going over it like any other report she's made, trying to sound as detached from the subject matter as she can manage.
"I decided to take advantage of the situation and deal with a few people who needed to be dealt with," she says, not entirely unlike Daud's plan to go after Koroc. It just happened to be more inclusive. "Most of them were from the Defenders. Some weren't. I know my original reason for it was to try and clear out Koroc's support but by the time I realized the sound really was affecting me, I couldn't stop. It became more about proving something than actually getting the job done."
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