usir | Event #1: The Big One

Entry tags:

The Awakening

🜙 Awakening the Heart Warnings: Injury, Blood, Death

	You are awakened from death by a cloaked figure. The sky is thickly choked by dark storm clouds, but it's growing darker. Sunset is approaching and you know you are far from any of the kingdom cities. It is only once you find your feet that you notice your new tunic adorned with the colors of one of the three kingdoms. It might not be something you remember wearing, but you're about to be thankful for the extra fabric as the first drops of rain begin to fall, hitting you hard and heavy. You won't survive a night out on the marsh flats during a storm. The weather out here is violently unpredictable and it's freezing cold to boot. Your breath escapes in a cloud in front of your face and a shiver runs through you as your feet sink further in the muck of the marsh. You need to find somewhere to go while you sort out what has happened to you. Atrómitos is the closest city to where you are now. You know these marshlands are part of their kingdom. Whatever side you might have been on for the war a simple analysis of the circumstances and surroundings you find yourself in make one thing clear. If you want to survive the night, Atrómitos is your only hope. The chill in the air makes it very clear this is winter and the other kingdoms are much too far to make in so little time. You will have to sludge your way across the muddy, icy marshlands and avoid getting trapped in the thick, deadly mud pits to get there but survival instincts instill a sense of urgency in your movements. You can pillage rusty weapons from the partly to mostly mud-buried skeletons of fallen soldiers on your way, but you had better keep a brisk pace if you want to survive the night. Take care not to grab a living body if you are grave-robbing.
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🜙 X Marks the Spot

	Night falls as you approach the outskirts of what used to be Atrómitos. In the poor light of dusk you can make out just enough to know that something is off about the silhouette of the great city, but you shrug it off to the exhaustion crashing down on you. Your limbs are heavy, your clothing drenched and thick with mud that is hardening in the biting cold. You are finding it hard to keep your eyes open and your limbs moving. Just across a bridge over the river is a large inn. The building is enticing, alive with the sounds of music and life. Light is twinkling from lanterns and candles in its windows, reminding you of warmth. You give the vanishing city silhouette in the distance one more look before it fades from view, swallowed by the approaching darkness. You will never make it to the city before the heavy black of a densely-clouded night cloaks your vision and strands you to stumble blindly across the uneven land and broken paths. It's too risky. You turn for the inn, knowing you have no coin to pay your way, and enter. The portly halfling woman at the bar catches sight of your muddy tunic and drenched form and heaves a heavy sigh, setting aside the flagons she had been cleaning to cross the inn and meet you at the door. "Another one, eh? I don't suppose you have even a handful of silver either?" She clucks disapprovingly, but there is warmth in her expression as she reaches a hand up, offering you a clean, dry towel. It is small, barely enough to dry your face, but it is a gesture of kindness. "Strange times, this. The lot of you are going to run us dry at this rate. Go on then, get yourself over to the fire. Alphie will bring you a flagon of mead and a bite to eat." She points a finger accusingly, stopping any efforts to speak. "And don't you be causing any trouble now. We have rooms enough to spare but you'll be sharing. Beggars can't be choosers. I don't want to hear a word of complaint or excuses. Shoo. Off with you." She doesn't wait for a reply, gesturing toward the large fireplace where a few strangers in similar dress and state to your own are talking over large flagons and bowls of something warm and savory-scented. A teen halfling brings you a bowl and flagon of your own once you find a seat, the smell of a hot and hearty mushroom stew greeting your senses. He also hands you a key fished from his pockets once you've taken your food and drink. "Mum says she expects you to help with chores in the mornin'. Don't be fightin' or she'll sick Boris on you." With that he leaves, heading back toward a massive beast of a saint bernard that sits by the bar. It maintains eye contact for a period before snorting and walking off after the boy. The heavy brass key in your hand goes to a room on the upper floors of the inn, a tag with the room number attached to the ring of it. Chances are you won't be alone when you turn in for the night, but there will be clean linens, a towel, and a fresh tunic and pair of pants in something near your size atop them. It isn't perfect, but it's something. The skies are clear in the morning and the ground is covered in a thin layer of fresh snow. True to the boy's word, Gilly, the woman from the night before, gives you a task in the morning. There are a number of chores, from tending to the sheep or pigs, shifting hay in the barn, cooking breakfast, dishes, doing laundry, or cleaning up the inn. Whatever the task, when you finish it she gives you a bowl of something warm to eat and she thanks you for your help around the inn. You are given the offer to stay so long as you keep doing chores to pay your way.
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🜙 Awakening the Soul

	You leave the inn, but before you can make much progress toward the city a strange sensation overtakes you. It feels like the pull of a magical compass, persistent and steady. The vial you picked up from the battlefield grows cold. It feels like ice against your skin. As the warmth fades from it, it also fades from you. Nothing warms you, not fire, furs, or even the false warmth of alcohol. With the cold comes pain as old injuries begin to appear on your skin, slowly growing worse over time. Succumbing to the pull you stumble back to the battlefield you came from, back across the frozen marshlands. The spot you rose from is untouched by the ice of frozen rain, the grass there still a vibrant green. Something strange is happening. With your animas now close to you and a device in your hand or pocket, you realize the sky has turned menacing once more. The dark clouds of the previous day have choked out the blue skies again and thunder rumbles, approaching at a fast pace. The storm crashes above you. Lightning cracks across the sky and thunder follows it. The weather has warmed enough that rain is falling once more and the hair on the back of your arm stands on end from the electricity in the air. You should get going.
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🜙 A City Under Siege. Warnings: Warfare, Death

	As you return to the city that used to be Atrómitos you quickly realize something has changed. Fires burn around the outskirts of the city. A skirmish has broken out and bulky knights in golden tunics are clashing with a band of fur and leather-clad red orcs, their faces painted with black and white colors of war. The sound of battle is familiar, and the orcs are pushing the city's defense back. There are a number of options before you. You could take advantage of the chaos and join the attack or loot the market. You could assist the defenders in fighting off the orc pillagers. You could slip by into the city and help the people trying to get away from or stop the fires. Or you could just find a local tavern, get a drink, and wait out the battle while you try to make sense of the city's vastly different appearance. Eventually, the defenders manage to beat back the attack and the fires are all extinguished. A crew of volunteers helps to move the bodies out of the city to waiting pyres. Anyone who manages to insert themselves into the crew could easily pilfer some weapons, items, or coin from the bodies. Post-attack the city returns to normal surprisingly quick, these attacks are common for the wall-less city. As night approaches, fires are lit on the outskirts and the city defenders start their nightly patrol. The temperature drops and the rain and thunder turns to snow. Winter is finally here.
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🜙 Divided We Fall.

	In the aftermath of the orc attack the smoke clears and rumors spread faster than fire through the city's streets and taverns. The general consensus is the orcs were after something or someone, but what? That depends on the rumors you hear, and which ones you choose to believe. The city is alive with whispers and theories while attempts to strengthen defenses and repair the damages are underway. Several things become clear in the aftermath: The Skywhale, the airship meant to travel between the City of the Free Peoples and Didymos has been badly damaged, sabotaged and grounded in the orc attack. People in the know about these sorts of things are saying it looks like it will take at least a week or two to be repaired. Winter's first harsh breath has stopped Krimnos' airships as well. The sudden and severe temperature drop in the mountains and the high risk of avalanches has grounded their ships temporarily. As a result, the City of the Free Peoples has effectively been cut off from the other cities. No one seems certain for how long, only that assistance will not be coming soon. And perhaps of more concern than any of this: the orcs are still out there, not far from the city, and they seem to be preparing for a second assault.
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🜙 A Mysterious Message.

	Some time during the chaos a message arrived to your courier. After finding someone who knows what the device is or some tinkering and exploration of your own you discover how to view the thought message it holds and what you find only adds to your confusion. Your message differs depending on your allegiance: Yearning: Do not forget why you are here. It is within your grasp now. You need only to claim what is yours. Hold strong and show no fear. -Epithymetikon Devotion: Burn bright in the dawn where your suns set. Your sacrifices will not be forgotten. Your efforts will not be in vain. Your soul will follow where your heart leads it. -Thymoeides Reason: There is an answer for every question. The truth will not find you. You must seek it for yourself. Do not lose sight of what you seek. -Logistykon
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🜙 It bites, it burns, it yearns and yearns. Warnings: Warfare, Death, Suicidal Orcs

	Snow continues to fall thick and heavy, coating the land in layer after layer of dense, wet, white until a foot of snow coats the plains and lowlands. It seems winter has arrived eagerly on time this year. Small raiding parties of orcs continue attacking the city periodically from different directions. The raiding parties never contain more than a dozen orcs and the attacks rarely last more than an hour. Fires are set, lives are lost, and the orcs vanish once more, their tactics and chosen locations unpredictable. A bounty is issued against the orc tribe, city-wide and open to all. Gold and silver are offered for any information gathered on the orcs and a much larger purse for any who bring back one of the orcs responsible, alive. No simple task as these orcs would sooner die by their own blades than be taken captive. The city is on lockdown, the airships are not coming or going, and city defenses are on high alert. The city's guards are recruiting anyone who is willing and able to help put out fires, fight the orcs, repair damage, offer their weaponry, their magical aid, or their healing talents to the effort. It is made known across the city that all who can help will be compensated in coin, and possibly other rewards, by Captain Lykos himself.

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⤛ Sources: 1 2 3 4 & 5 6 7

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I guess that's true. [Gilly did seem very happy to have help around the inn. There was a lot to do and it seemed like there were only two hands at the inn he had seen so far, Gilly and the boy who was presumably her son.]

Yeah, it seems like most people just want to forget the past and move on. I mean I guess I can't blame them for the sentiment but I would never be able to forget the past. I don't want to. [The people he lost, the people everyone lost to the war, and all those homes. The destruction of Atrómitos must have killed so many people who were never going to be fighting in the war. Families, children, people's parents and sisters and grandparents. Their children, lovers, friends.] I can imagine the pain and the loss of it all might have made it too difficult for most people to talk about.

[He sighs and flips through one of his books before offering it over to her.]

I did find this passage about how the city was destroyed. I guess not much of anything survived that. The battle sounds - [He trails off with a shake of his head. It sounds worse than anything he had ever witnessed and never wanted to. He looks for another book from his stack, small and leather-bound, a book the merchant had told him came from Didymos. It was about the dragons, written before the war was even a thought on anyone's mind.]

I always thought they seemed kind, or at least like they cared about people. Looking back on all the pain they caused, I still don't understand what made things change. Why did it all go wrong so fast? [His thoughts come out on a soft, somber voice, fingertips digging into the binding until he has to clear his throat.] I can't imagine Logistykon approving of so many people dying so pointlessly.

I want to find them. There has to be more than just us, and there has to be a reason. Magic like this doesn't just happen. It would take- [A necromancer? A chill runs down his spine at the thought and he pushes it aside.] a lot of powerful magic to do this. There has to be a reason.

[He has to believe that, because if there isn't a reason then he's just alive while his family is dead just to feed some necromancer's curiosity or by some fluke of magic-touched nature and he can't stand the thought of it. It would be too terrible a thing to come back just to be alone and directionless in a world he no longer belongs to.]

I want to believe there's a reason. Some purpose for all of this. But I wanted to believe that when the war started, too, and there wasn't a reason for that. No reason in all the world would be a good enough reason for everything that came with it, everything it cost.

Alive Jaime can work with. Catching an orc alive is something he can actually do without feeling too much guilt for the future of that orc's life, at least not immediately. They need answers, and if the defenders of the city can get answers maybe less life will be lost on both sides. He gives his former teacher a look of concern at the sudden hiss of air and the gesture, his focus jumping from his once mentor to the thing he's controlling.

He wants to try and force him to stop, to break the connection before he feels more pain, but the golem is still fighting and Jaime just grits his teeth as he dashes off toward the orcs attempting to finish it off. The larger group has broken off, moving for a less troublesome area of the city, and Jaime can count the orcs that are left on one hand.

He's never been a great fighter in this form, relying on his flexibility and agility to keep him out of harm's way and his magic to protect him. But right now he focuses his own energy into his hand, flinging a ball of magical energy at one of the orcs to send it flying backwards. He takes a running jump at the nearest wall, using it as leverage to throw himself past the golem through a pass between two buildings, crossing his arms and then throwing them down to form a shield out of his own magical energy that cuts himself and the injured orc off from the golem and the other two orcs still fighting it.

The orc he knocked back roars at him, getting back on his feet, and Jaime's head tilts back with fear and fire in his eyes at the taller, bulkier opponent. His eyes narrow and he pulls more energy into his hand, feeling the first tendrils of exhaustion starting to climb through him. As an elf he had powerful magic, but he was still a teenager and his stamina with it was far weaker in this form. He just couldn't afford to shift out in public, especially not in front of someone who knew him.

"Just stay down and I won't have to hurt you." The orc seems to find his threat hilarious, throwing his head back to laugh at the young, impetuous elf ordering him around, and Jaime responds by throwing a second ball of magical energy right into its gut with force enough that a rib cracks, making Jaime wince but remain stiffly standing between the orc and its escape route.

One would hope not.

[ She smiles, but there's a tinge of apprehension in her expression that creases the skin between her brows. ]

I doubt all this energy used to return us was done out of simple benevolence. There's a purpose to it all, and obviously something is meant to be done with us. Even if it's just to observe us.

[ She sighs. Her instinct to worry and see danger around every corner is really hampering this reunion. ]

Or perhaps I'm being overly cautious as always.

"Yes, unfortunately. We can keep asking around, but I think whomever brought us back will make themselves known on their terms, not ours." Her pursed lips at the end of the sentence clearly shows what she thinks of that. Christine hates not being in control. It means not having a firm grip on things and being left at the mercy of others instead of being able to write her own destiny.

"Until then, at least we can do some good here while this city is seeing such chaos."

"I truly need nothing more," she adds, noting that Mòrag used the word "begin." Christine isn't in the habit of letting others do things for her, mostly because she's a perfectionist who would rather do things herself. If she can convince her patient that this is enough, she won't worry about what else Mòrag has planned.

"It wasn't a great strain to use my magic; I assure you."

Christine nods slowly. It isn't a leap to assume they're speaking of one and the same, and that's a bit... what? Frightening? Surprising? Impossible?

"It was from someone I did not expect, because I thought they were dead. But now, with everything that's happened to me, it seems like perhaps the impossible is possible."

[ ooc: likewise! RL has been a trial this week. <3 ]

Why should it be silly? Surely people in this day and age appreciate art as much as they did in the past.

[ Christine appreciated art in the way a person does when they're far too logical and less creative in nature. She saw beauty in formulas and diagrams, but always in the back of her mind there was this itch to take in the beautiful patterns in nature. It was the elven side of her that reveled in wild magic wanting to break free, and Christine never wanted to let it out.

Now she's back, wondering if she should be picking up the pieces of her old life or starting anew. Didymos calls, but she doesn't feel the longing for her old city that she used to. ]

Perhaps I'll travel now that there's no longer a war. And I'll figure out what I want to do and where I wish to settle down. I want to see my home, but I know it won't feel the same any longer. I may as well see what else is out there, right?

[At the time, Atrómitos was a pretty big proponent of tossing someone in head first to learn. On the one hand, it definitely worked well with Ellie's personality. On the other, it isn't exactly safe.]

We could try. I'd appreciate it.

[That's actually really...nice. Most people were more interested in honing Ellie's other skills when she showed no signs of any magical ability. Even Joel hadn't pushed her much, instead focusing on her ability to hunt and kill efficiently with a bow. Her survival skills. Which were and are vital, but she still wishes she could have learned something else.]

[ Davina does slow down a bit, noticing his pace. As much as she wants to hurry, no point in leaving the person who offered to go with her. ]

Atrómitos didn't have the most creative architecture a hundred years ago, either.

[ No offense to all of the dead architects but square-shaped buildings stacked one on top of the other? She's seen kids with building blocks that have better imagination. Then again, it could be cozy inside; she doesn't know since she's never really lived in the city. ]

I doubt it either so being overly cautious is not a bad thing right now.

[ Davina's spoken with Alucard about it back at the Inn. They're both convinced that this isn't just a form of humanitarianism from passing necromancers. Raising several of them from the dead requires a huge amount of magical energy and no one is that good of a Samaritan to expend that much magic. ]

I'm actually researching on the magic used on us. [ Might as well let her in on it already. ] Maybe we can figure out who brought us back and why if we trace the magic.

The nod she gives tells him she'll be through in just a moment, now that the girl-cat is clear. Rey starts to duck through the doorway when the beam gives, buckles the door, and she has to throw her hand out to try and catch the jamb as it tries to bear down and pin her there.

Something pale blue flashes briefly in her eyes before it's suppressed, something that gives her the boost of strength necessary to slip out from inside that narrow space, and stagger into the hallway.

"Hurry." They can't stick around. There's a good chance this house is losing its structural integrity to the fire. She claps Jon on the shoulder as a 'hustle' gesture.

[ Davina rolls her eyes and opens her mouth to respond—only to be caught off-guard by the accusation. She turns her gaze from one orc to the other, a look of surprise briefly crossing her expression before it melts into wicked amused. Her mouth curves to a smile as she takes a step closer, the snow crunching under her boots. ]

Yes, I quite like it and all my tutors made sure I'm very good at it. [ Her words are like ice, quiet and sharp and biting. ] You know what else I can do to you if you don't stop mouthing off?

[ She leans in closer, tilting her head and in a voice so soft she wonders if Victor will still hear it. ]

I can boil the blood in your veins. Make it feel like you're being burned from the inside out that even the snow and wind don't feel cold enough. And I'll keep you conscious the entire time so you'll feel your every single organ cook and melt inside of you.

[ And as a demonstration, she recites a complex spell and flicks her wrist. The orc next to him starts to sweat despite the temperature, the snow that had fallen on his skin hissing and melting away. And soon enough, he's howling once more from pain, one that she muffles with a wave of her finger. Gods, it feels nice, magic surging through her veins again.

With a friendlier smile this time, even more so when she finally sees a flicker of fear in their beady eyes, she steps away. ] So, perhaps you can give us the answers we seek this time.

[ A few moments later, she turns to Victor with a wide smile. ] Mind doing me a favour and help me call the Captain over?

[She makes her own noise, this one of professional uncertainty.] This attack is -- well, wrong on many levels, completely out of keeping with military strategy on either side. So I do not know if they have tactics behind their choices, or are simply looking for targets.

"You underestimate its value to me, no matter the strain," Mòrag said with a slight smile. "But I will not force more upon you than you are comfortable with. Like as not I'll require your services again in the future."

Oh?

[ She looks intrigued. ]

It would be good to keep myself busy with research instead of twiddling my thumbs. Is there any part of this you'd like me to look into further?

"If that is so, then I won't mind such a trade becoming a normal occurrence." The smile is returned, though she can't help but add, "I do hope any injuries you sustain aren't from barreling into trouble with a mediocre weapon."

[ Poe doesn't immediately link the name to anything. He always focused on faces and worried about names second, and Daud's face wasn't one he knew.

After putting aside his outer clothing and armor to dry on a chair he takes in the room in more detail. There are burns in his mother's old jacket that he frowns at now that he has a moment to look them over. He'll have to repair it later.

For now he at least swaps out his cold, wet shirt for the one Gilly was thoughtful enough to apparently provide, smoothing the fabric once it's on. ]

Things don't sound like they've been easy on anyone. [ At least from the word of mouth conversations he listened in on down in the common area of the inn as drinks loosened tongues. ] This might be common practice around here. I've only seen the two people working and it's a big inn so I guess it's a good arrangement for both parties. [ Just judging from appearances and the number of rooms he passed on the way to this one, the inn would have more work than hands to do it. ]

Were you caught out in the storm? [ It's a harmless enough question as Poe tries to piece together not only what has happened to him but what is going on with those around him. ]

[ Poe looks up with a smile that also doesn't reach his eyes, meeting Victor's eyes and then looking to his wolf. The map is a decent one, better than some he had had as one of Krimnos' knights. It's nice to hear a familiar voice, but after the message he just received it's even nicer to see a familiar face. ]

You're looking young. [ Considering how old they both must now be. Did it count, years passed while not living? Were they over a century now or still the ages they had died at? It's just another unhelpful question that knocks around in the back of his mind. He needs to focus, draw his conversation back to the topic Victor had approached him during. ]

And keeping fine company I see. [ He comments, nodding toward the gorgeous wolf. Not that he was used to seeing Victor in the company of wild animals. It was more an offhand compliment than a commentary. ]

Are you interested? In the current climate, I wouldn't turn down a few extra pairs of eyes. [ Not that he would any other time. Travel was better with company if it was climate he had to remain in this form for. ]

There is a language barrier between them, but Groot's body language is something Teddy can follow far better. The arboreon is larger than him in this form and while travel might be safer for Teddy in his human form, old habits and a desire to keep his fur coat keep him in this one. He doesn't hesitate more than to be sure of his steps as he carefully puts his paws forward into the muddy bank.

He barks once at the tall person traveling with him and carefully balances on his back legs in a seated position, preparing himself for the potential discomfort if the arboreon offers more than an outstretched hand.

If Groot is willing to carry him, he will take the lift gladly with an appreciative lick to his bark. After they pass the stream and Teddy is back on his feet he shakes rainwater off his fur before it can freeze there, pacing forward again. He will lead Groot right along the tracks he can smell to the inn on the other side of the river. With Groot's presence it will be far less suspicious for him to seek shelter in the building that waits for them at the end of the path.

[ Cats have never liked Teddy so it isn't unusual for him to find one reacting this way toward him. His responding bark is soft and chatty with length, more a friendly and extended growl at her question, as if he understood her perfectly well.

He takes a bounding run over to the gate, jumping up to pull down the locking mechanism with his paws before returning to start pushing a second bale of hay toward her stacks. He enjoyed finding ways to help people, the praise and occasional food or comfort it earned him made it well worth his time.

His ears remain tilted back to the baying of the sheep, listening for predators, but his nose so far has given him no scents to indicate there are threats about this early in the day beyond a fox he had already scared far away from the pasture. ]

[ Teddy sits in front of the man whose fingers are pressing into his matted fur and closes his eyes, waiting for the voice to stop and conserving his energy. Once Kylo stops speaking the weary canine stiffly gets back onto four paws and takes a few limping steps before finding a rhythm that will let him keep going.

He finds his pace and doesn't stop as he heads back for the inn he had spent the previous night at. He assumes by the faint traces of the man's scent that he was another of the inn's residents. ]

[ The fight continues until this wave of orcs has either died or retreated from the city to regroup. By the time it is finished, Teddy's clothing is heavily bloodstained with a mix of orc blood and his own and his sword digs into the ground, too heavy in his arm to keep it held at the ready.

He looks over at his partner in combat, his expression stiff and uncertain, paired with his rough voice. ]

You fight well. [ It's all the compliment he can offer. He's never been great at conversation or small talk, and the lightheaded sensation left behind as the adrenaline rush begins to crash isn't improving his skills. ]

( he matches Teddy's pace, keeping watch as they head back to the inn.

to the credit of the other residents, nobody seems to bat an eyelash at their dishevelment. there are plenty, many crowded around the bar, who look worse. he casts a lingering look in the direction of the bar before tapping lightly at his thigh, an indication that Teddy follow, and leads him back to his room.

it's not much but it's safe and warm and affords some privacy. he removes his weapons, next. then his belt. shedding them like a snake might shed its skin.

he then considers the bed a moment before reaching to strip off the topmost blanket. ) Wait here, ( he settles the blanket in the corner, shapes it as best he can into an enticing looking bed.

he'll need water, he decides. cloth and something to clean and sterilize any wounds. it's unlikely that he'll find everything he might need but water, food. something to make his new friend comfortable for the night seems easy enough. ) I'll bring you something to eat.

Groot watches Lylla and then ponderously regards the direction Rocket motions. He spots the bridge after a moment and lets out a wordless hum of agreement as he twists just so and continues at his plodding, even pace. He glances up, looking for smoke, but doesn't let his attention move from his feet for too long. If they are walking on a river bank he must be careful, lest he step into the ice and throw both him and Rocket into the water.

The smell of smoke curls in the cold air as they reach the bridge and begin traveling across it. Groot makes a sound that is somewhere between displeased and irritated, but otherwise has no comment as he heads toward the scent and the distant sounds of crackling.

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Page 35 of 39

Event #1: The Big One

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don't you just love when you miss notifs?

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