usir | Event #1: The Big One

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

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Around here? They probably haven't. Or they used them for coasters. [He follows up his comment with a low laugh, only slightly touched with humor. He shifts the balance of his books, tilting them to one side so he can find The Fall of Dragons. He has only paged through it briefly, but what he read didn't make him feel particularly good and had started him down a depressing path of thoughts he had quickly tried to escape with books on magical creatures, familiars, and one in particular on the re-construction of the City of the Free Peoples, looking for answers on why the city had no walls.]

Do you want to go somewhere quieter? They seem to get rowdy this time of day. [The more open areas were not really good places for reading or researching. Even as he asks he offers out the book to her. He had spent half the day doing errands and repairs to earn enough silver to get it, but Jaime didn't like passing by people who needed help he could offer.]

[ For someone who spent her entire life around books, tomes, and scrolls — that one makes her wince. There's power in the written word and it's up to her family to help translate it. Visibly, Jaime can see her face scrunch up. ]

Oh — er. [ His thought was solid and she seems a bit eccentric as she snaps her gaze back and forth. Settling on the door leading out — it's clear the bustling nature and sanctuary the inn provides could be too much. However... ]

There's a quiet spot in the barn behind here. So long as you can stomach the smell of pig slop and hay.

[ oops. ]

I think I can handle it. [Sometimes, despite his annoyance with the reptile, he catches himself feeling a flicker of concern for the animals' health. They weren't usually creatures that lasted well in cold weather. But he also knows that even if he tried to ditch Khaji Da in his room the creature would just find its way back to him, and at far greater risk than just tagging along.

He gives an exasperated sigh at his thoughts, shifting the books and painfully extracting sharp claws from his clothing and skin.]

Will you give it a rest already? I'm trying to help you. [Irritation is clear and sharp in Jaime's words but there is a gentleness to how he relocates the animal, tucking the blue monitor into a hastily crafted pouch in the interior of his borrowed coat.]

Okay. Let's get out of here before someone tries to pull us into a song or something. [Or thrust another drink into his hands and make him lose his grip. He avoids bumping into other patrons as he makes his way toward the door. He'll bring the other books along, just in case.]

[ Warden, thankfully, for once was content with having Elizabeth here. It's watchful black eyes beady with focus, watching the girl's every move. The songbird didn't make its presence too ill-advised, that was... until they were leaving the inn.

It flutters, circling and chirping much to the girl's annoyance as she presses her palm to the door leading out. ]

You're in good company then, friend. It seems we both have friends with bad manners.

[ Let the animas live, damn it. Elizabeth makes sure to bundle her coat and hold tightly to her messenger bag — something she carries and seemingly never finds empty. Art supplies, trinkets, hastily scribbled notebooks... it weighs on her as they exit. ]

They seem to only do that when it's close to midnight... or when their pitcher is empty. It's charming, honestly.

[ Maybe Elizabeth's joined in? Awkwardly? Who knows.

Out to the cold she goes! And around the back to the small worn barn. ]

[Jaime is both concerned and relieved to find the barn unlocked, pulling the door open enough to let them both in. The wind and snow wouldn't be good for the books, and the walls provide some amount of warmth. Settling down on a hale bay he lays his books out beside him and tugs at the lizard attached to his shoulder, relocating him to the barn floor.

To his distress the reptile climbs back up his leg and makes himself comfortable in Jaime's lap, overlong tail wrapping around himself multiple times. He gives up and picks up one of the books from his stack.

The smell isn't great, but it's out of the elements and quieter.]

Seems like quite a few of us at the inn have new animal friends. Nice of the innkeeper to be so accommodating. [A little suspiciously so, but Jaime believes in good-hearted people. He doesn't think she has ulterior motives or even any more knowledge than they do. She's just a kind woman with faith in people like Jaime.]

[ It's a silence she certainly can appreciate. As much as she loved the new assertive choice she's begun to make, there's a loneliness she feels for having her own space. She has no home or sanctuary, even if she had long since abandoned hers.

She settles nearby, right near a small set of tools. Idly, she traces her fingers across them and listens as her bird finally perches nearby. ]

So long as they get some hands on deck to handle the influx of travelers... a few animals seem like a small penance. [ There's an awkward smile as she pulls her knees to her chest, resting her chin upon them. ] I've had no such like finding answers or an explanation for... a few things. Even the history books I've come to find aren't very helpful.

[ Some don't even make sense. So — ]

People just have pity for Atrómitos, but it's lost to the years. People aren't interested in preserving things...

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.

Event #1: The Big One

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