agentlelog | event: a gentle arrival

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event: a gentle arrival

I won't give up so don't give in
You've fallen down but you can rise again

► The OOC plotting post for this event can be found here.

► Direct all questions to the mods at this link.

SWEET DREAMS AREN'T MADE OF THIS
The dream isn't unpleasant, just strange. Mist curls around you long after the woman fades. You hold a Jewel in your hand, marveling at its multifaceted surface and feeling the thrill of new, untapped power. Anticipation surges in you: that feeling of wrongness that so often accompanies a nightmare you can't wake from. Anticipation becomes fear. You look up, certain that at any moment the mist will pull back and reveal something gruesome and terrible.

A scream. A piercing wail, that sound that accompanies a violent death. The sound doesn't come from your dream, and it jolts you awake. You…

i. Are alone in your room, and have a moment to gather yourself. Wherever you laid down to rest, you've woken up somewhere different. Somewhere strange. There's a comforting weight in the air—a feeling of welcome, of belonging. Then another scream pierces the night. In your dream, the woman asked for a hero. Maybe you already consider yourself a hero or maybe you don't, but now seems as good a time as any to either be one or start pretending.

ii. See a dark shape looming over you. You have no time to assess the place you've woken up, though you have a quick flash of insight that your dream must have been more than a dream and the woman to whom you spoke has brought you to her world and her home. There's no time to marvel at this. The shadow above you draws back, a pistol Breaker in their hand. Even if you've never seen a gun before, you can somehow taste their malice and hatred. They're pointing a weapon at you, and your scream might be the next to tear through the midnight darkness.

Landen Hunters have infiltrated the Queen's Residence. How stalwartly you choose to fight them off is up to you, but you'll quickly encounter members of Fayura's First Circle defending against the attackers. Allairavar rallies the people of the court, ensuring the most vulnerable are well guarded in the massive dining hall. Loren maintains a Green shield around the room, and only those of the court or the Strangers can enter. There, Healers tend to the wounded, and the children who live at the residence are kept safe.

Amidst the turmoil, you overhear snippets of conversation:

A Healer, quietly, to her patient: If the Lady isn't here, she and Prince Verim must be working some spell to protect us. Rest easy, Prince.

Lord August, speaking quickly to Prince Lachlan as they rush by: —monsters find out the Queen would be bringing help to us tonight? Who told the Hunters—

An injured footman, worried: —see the flames through the window. Landens live in Old Town. How unsurprising that the Guilds would come up with a distraction that hurts their own, too.

FLAME AND FURY
Beyond the Queen's Residence, the Old Town Bazaar burns. Horrified faces gather at the east-facing dining hall windows, and distraught whispers fill the air. Someone cries out that their sister lives in Old Town.

Loren reacts first. He calls for volunteers from the Strangers, and you have the distinct impression that he measures you by your response. "The Hunters—" He grimaces, realizing the Strangers probably don't know what he means. "—landen assassins came in the night to kill you. They've lit part of our city on fire to prevent us from following them. We don't know who, specifically, came for you, but we know where they've gone to ground, so we don't need to chase them down. What we do need to do is stop the fire from spreading. The First Circle will stay here and defend the residence. Who among you Strangers, those of you who came here tonight, will help with the fires?"

Those who agree to help are sent with Allairavar to put out the flames. As you travel with him, Allairavar provides a crash-course in creative application of Craft.

*You wear the Jewels, so you can shield. You should know how, if the Lady's spell worked. Shield yourselves to protect from the flames. Use Craft to shield the buildings and starve out the fires,* he says on a psychic thread so that everyone can hear him and he doesn't need to waste his breath by shouting. *Rescue anyone trapped in the buildings regardless of who they are. Be on the look out for Hunters—the assassins Loren mentioned. They're sneaky bastards, and they'll use our focus on helping the people to put knives in our backs if they can.*

Put out fires, use your powers or Craft to support buildings before they collapse, and rescue landens and Blood alike from the damage done by the Hunter Guild. Be wary and alert, and try not to damage the city more than the fires already have should you encounter Hunters. Blood families will go with the Strangers more easily than landen families, but Allairavar makes it clear that if you have to physically remove someone from a burning home or one that is about to collapse then that is exactly what you should do.

REST FOR THE WEARY
Dawn breaks on the horizon, painting the city of Draega a hazy red. With little wind, the smoke hovers around the city. In Old Town, even buildings that didn't burn begin to smell like the fire.

A somber weight falls on the Queen's Residence. In the aftermath of the night's events, Loren introduces himself to each of the Strangers individually if possible but to groups if he must: He is the Queen's Steward, and his Queen was the one who worked the spell to bring them to Draega. He apologizes for the circumstance of their arrival and that the Queen is currently indisposed. Everyone, he explains, can stay in the residence for as long as they would like, and he makes it clear that by no means are the Strangers required to remain in the residence nor will they be viewed with suspicion or distrust by the court if they decide to find their own homes.

Those with medical skills or healing powers are brought to the dining hall to help the Healers. The Healer in charge is a young, Yellow Jeweled woman who has exhausted her Craft and desperately needs assistance. Anyone who inquires about her position within the court, either to her or others, learns that she is highly skilled and spent her childhood in the landen Medico Guild before taking a chance on her half-Blood heritage and making an Offering. While she wears one of the lightest Jewels in the residence, even Allairavar submits silently to her attentions and he offers no excuse when she chastises him for getting injured.

Midway through the day, Allairavar and Loren make the mistake of having an unshielded conversation near the dining hall. Anyone nearby can overhear…

"I spoke briefly to Verim," Loren says, voice low and urgent. "They weren't caught in the fire, but Allairavar…"

A muscle in Allairavar's jaw ticks. His massive, membranous wings fan out to fill the hall before he pulls them tight to his back. "She's injured."

Loren nods. "Badly. The backlash of power struck her hard, and Verim couldn't help her absorb it." Tension lines Allairavar's body, and Loren quickly adds, "You can't kill them. She brought them here to help us—"

"Our Queen is vulnerable," Allairavar hisses. "There are strangers in our home." A dangerous, wild look fills his eyes. "Does she plan on doing this again? We're not letting her." He rocks back and forth on his feet with the nervous energy of a man contained and about to explode.

"So we'll strand these people here?" Gentle concern fills Loren's eyes. "She'll need to do this once more to send them home."

All that nervous energy abruptly vanishes, and Allairavar bends a sleepy-eyed, malevolent look on Loren. "Would you ask our Queen to destroy herself for these people?"

Violence cloaks both men, but the threat of action rests solely on Allairavar. Loren keeps his voice gentle. Soothing. "Do you really think she would have made the offer if she couldn't send them home? Do you think she would truly be so cruel as to demand they come here with no chance of ever returning home?"

Allairavar is quiet for a long moment. The tension slowly flows out of him, leaving him looking weary and exhausted. "Yes," he finally says, tone grim. "Because to her, the price is worth it to save the world. And she would accept it for any of them if they asked." He runs a hand over his head and sighs heavily. Without another word, he turns and walks away. Loren does not call after him.

AIR TIME
Whether you catch the news on a Far-caster in the city or you're spinning the dial on your own device, you'll hear…

etiquette with evandra and aren
[Evandra's voice is a little bit rough and a little bit husky, the kind of voice that gives bad ideas to young men and headaches to fathers.] Just because the Blood have no law against murder doesn't mean you can kill anyone on the street—or in their homes, isn't that right, Lord Aren?

[Aren's voice is chipper and bright. He sounds more like an eager boy than the full-grown man he is.] Quite true, Evandra! Unless someone has done something to merit execution, wanton murder is generally frowned upon. A Queen can demand a price for the death of someone in her Territory or court.

[A thoughtful hum from Evandra.] So, the Hunter Guild's attack on the Queen's Residence last night isn't illegal, but it was incredibly gauche. And now they face possible retaliation from her and her court. How ghastly!

[Aren agrees.] A dreadful affair. Remember: just because you can doesn't mean you should.

[Evandra:] Quite so. Something for us all to consider. As always, I'm Evandra.

[With solemn dignity, Lord Aren says:] I'm Aren, and you've been listening to…

[Together:] Etiquette with Evandra and Aren. [Jaunty outro music plays. Perhaps they should reconsider this particular tune on dark occassions.]

the weather
[A soft-spoken man's voice rumbles out of the Far-caster. He's pleasant to listen to, with a soothing cadence to his voice.] …overcast and snowy days with temperatures hovering around freezing during the day and dropping at night. Need to tune up your e-line heaters? The Elektriline Guild is offering a limited-time discount this week to ensure you stay warm around the clock.

the news
…distressed to hear of the incident at the Queen's Residence. [The man speaks in a slow, smooth voice. His words ring with heartfelt sincerity.] Though Lady Fayura and I don't often see eye-to-eye— [He chuckles at this, as though he's made a joke. Another man, presumably an interviewer, chuckles along with the air of someone who isn't sure this is a joke they should be laughing at.] —I condemn the actions taken by the Hunter Guild. Destroying people's homes is simply unacceptable.

But one wonders what that surge of power was just prior to midnight. Craft, surely, but to what end? Was that the spell the Queen used to summon these… Strangers from other Realms? Surely we can agree that such action, taken independently of the Guilds and the Ebon Council, much as we don't get along, is cause for concern. I believe the Lady has overstepped, and it is my firm hope that Lord Grejor issues an injunction against her for such flagrant disregard for the law.

[The interviewer speaks, and his voice is faintly strained.] Thank you, Grand Master Niall, for talking to us on this issue.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

i;; a rude awakening.
warnings for violence.

[ the situation reminds her much too much of the time she was being offered up as a sacrifice to the coven. that association alone is enough to have zita pushing herself out of bed in an attempt to escape the strange room, her vision suddenly tumbling and spinning as the stranger throws themselves at her and they both fall to the floor.

zita is suddenly aware of a sharp and intense pain that blooms somewhere on her back. it hurts. it hurts it hurts ithurtsithurts and the pain and the fear and the anger is all she can think of as she tries to throw the person off of her, viciously elbowing from behind as she tries to scramble back up to her knees.

she's not going to die here. the others back at the carnival- curtis and henry- penelope and diane- she's not going to die here and leave them alone- ]

Get off of me! [ she kicks. she screams. she makes enough noise and fuss that she hopes someone hears what's going on to try and help. at least investigate so she can have some distraction. she struggles with the assailant when she feels them make a grab for the dagger that must still be embedded in her back. the attempt to twist it out has her both seeing stars and renewing her resolve. ] Let me go!

ii;; into the fire.

[ but the evening only progresses from there.

the moment she hears a woman cry out about her sister being, she knows she has to do something. her back still aches from the stab that should, in theory, have 'killed' her and put her out of commission, but she's still standing and there are others in need.

the moment she gets to the bazaar, she knows what she wants to do despite her heart hammering in her chest. zita grabs the nearest bucket of water that isn't being used by others. (meaning, more likely than not, she simply grabbed the bucket of water from someone's hands before they could throw it.) she upturns it on herself and is soon drenched from head to toe, soaking her thin form within seconds.

and, with that, she dashes off into the nearest building that is still full of cries for help and mercy. it's clear she doesn't have a plan but she definitely makes up for it with determination. ]

iii;; burning the midnight oil.

[ at the dining hall of the queen's residence, zita is finally at her (proper) element.

it doesn't take long for zita to figure out who is in charge of the more-or-less field hospital. from the demonstration of her healing powers to the revealing of the jewel she's carrying when she shows it to them, the healer in charge is quick to put zita to work and work zita does.

she's a mostly hands on individual, personally seeing to the wounded and trying to give them comfort by speaking with them and healing them through physical contact of her magic. she also helps do inventory on the supplies of medicine and bandages there, keeping a sharp eye on the dwindling supplies and sending messages to the head healer to give her updates and alerts to anything that may require her call.

eventually, she ends up speaking with someone new. they don't seem to be injured or hurt as the others, but zita wants to be sure of that so she's trying to engage with them, see how they're faring in the light of the events they were all thrown in, more or less. ]

-Are you alright? [ zita is exhausted but she does her best to ignore it, wanting to focus her concern and attention on the individual she's speaking with. ] Do you need any help in anything?

iv;;; wildcard!!

[ want to do something else? feel free to do it here! also, you’re welcome to hit me up/plot with me via my plurk prognostic if there’s something specific you want. and if your character happen to be a magical individual or carries magical items on them, please take a minute to head on over to this permission post on zita's journal on whether or not she can detect them or their items. ]

[The man she's speaking with holds up a hand to forestall any more concern. He knows he must look a sight, soot on his skin and fur, and bearing all manner of cuts and bruises besides. There's even a scrap of scarf covering his right eye, though it's sooty rather than bloody.

He's lost some blood to the fighting, but he always loses blood when fighting as a dark knight. By now, the lightheadedness is natural.]

This is fine. Better to find someone who truly needs it-- there was this girl I brought in. Mayhap she needs attention.

Edited 2019-01-25 14:24 (UTC)

[ zita is quick to try and assess the injuries of the man before her, used to doing speedy examinations back at the carnival when some of the children rushed to her for aid.

hmm- while they weren't as concerning compared to other injuries, zita refused to let his injuries go uncheck since that would be the irresponsible thing to do. but, at the same time, the girl he brought up... ]

Would you be willing to escort me to her? I haven't gotten a chance to see all the patients brought in so I don't know what she looks like, sadly.

[ she then smiles at him. ]

Plus, I'm certainly she'll be happy to have a familiar face around when I patch her up.

[The reason he left the girl by her lonesome in the first place is to escape the medics. He understands their need, being one himself... just without access to his spells at the moment.

And to keep anyone from trying to extract his makeshift eyepatch from his person.

But he sighs and presses a thumb against his temple.]

Fine then. This way. [His tail is drooping as he walks. Rhus just so wishes he has his pipe right now. He's antsy, hands shaking, and he has to push them into the loops of his trousers to keep them steady.

But the girl is not too far away-- he motions towards her with his head, sitting on a chair with some salve already on her skin for the burns.]

[ she smiles at him as they make their way to the girl, grateful that he was willing to go along with this. she'll try her best to make this easy for all of them, and that will begin with her trying to be accommodating to her future patient. ]

Hello. [ she approaches the girl, giving a curtsy. while zita speaks, she pulls a chair up for the man, if he feels inclined to take it for himself. ] I'm Zita, one of the temporary healers here. I was informed that you're in need of medical assistance.

[ the young girl nods her head, holding up her arms that carry the worse of her burns.

looking sympathetic at the wounds, zita reaches out as her hands begin to glow soft white-blue light. she presses them against the untreated burns, careful to not press too hard against the wounds as her magic begins to speed up the healing process. ]

I take it you two came across each other at the Old Bazaar? [ it'll be nice to know what's going on. a brief and adventurous stint to that location aside, zita has spent most of her evening here at the makeshift ward. the only information she's been able to get it are from others like the young man and girl here, those actually in the thick of it. ]

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