event: a gentle caravan

[thestewards]

So one by one, we lay our bricks down
To pave a road on the shoulders of somebody else
A sturdy back but brittle bones

► The OOC plotting post for this event can be found here along with OOC information that can be learned in each location.

► Direct all questions to the mods at this link.

WHERE THERE’S SMOKE
Early one morning in mid-May, a column of smoke appears on the horizon south east of the city. It’s tall enough and dark enough to be seen over the tops of the city’s relatively low-standing buildings. Within minutes, panic grips the people of Draega.

Whispers spread through the city, and Strangers hear such things as…

A landen woman, hands covered in flour: That’s the caravan. It has to be the caravan.
Her sister: You’re overreacting. It’s probably just mercenaries squabbling over land.

A young Warlord: My sister… She’s coming from Dhemlan with the caravan. Mother Night, I’ve been reaching out to her, but she won’t respond to me!

Before the hour is up, Allairavar’s shadow passes over the city. He flies, speeding quickly in the direction of the smoke. Not long after, a young witch covered in blood and dirt appears quite suddenly in the middle of the Bazaar. Her Opal Jewel is drained to the point of breaking, and she is on the verge of tears. “They’ve attacked the caravan! Please, please, we need help!” Her distress is a physical thing, permeating the air with the psychic scent of anguish and terror.

The Transport Guild reacts first in part because Master Transporter Sorrel is present at the Bazaar to see the witch arrive, but also because the Transport Guild is simply that quick to respond. Shortly after he instructs his Guild to prepare aide, Sorrel broadcasts a Farcaster message to the entire city:

The caravan from Dhemlan has been attacked. Anyone willing and able to provide technical or medical assistance is welcome on the railcar platform north of the city in thirty minutes. Those of you capable of defending the injured should join us as well.

Lady Fayura issues a mental call to the Strangers mere moments after Sorrel’s broadcast:

Prince Loren will be assisting the Master Transporter in organizing help for the caravan. I will not be joining you, but rather will remain in the city to protect it with Prince Verim should the need arise.

Slowly but surely, the landen Guilds are attempting to revitalize travel, transport, and trade between Territories by way of railcars. Their goal is a massive, interconnected system of railways. As of yet, there is only one railway: the one that connects Draega to Allowary, the capital of Dhemlan. This single railway is well-protected by Hunters armed with Muters and Breakers. Railcars don’t leave the station poorly staffed.

By the time the Strangers and other volunteers arrive, the usual count of railcars in Draega’s station have been disconnected. Only one car, a large cargo car, remains connected to the engine. Master Transporter Sorrel and Prince Loren coordinate efforts together: they load volunteers and supplies into the large cargo car while doing their best to maintain the peace between the Strangers, a few Blood volunteers, and the Hunters who aren’t pleased by the presence of either party at all. A handful of Medicos are also on the platform, ready and eager to go.


THE CARAVAN
An hour’s railcar ride outside of the city, the twisted remains of the stranded caravan blocks the railway. An explosion ripped up the rails, splitting them them and causing the first four railcars in the caravan to derail and pile up off the tracks. At the back of the caravan, the massive railcar engine smokes and groans as desperate Transporters and Tinkers do their best to keep it from exploding violently.

The first two cars, the passenger cars, are a mess of twisted and wrecked metal. Many of the passengers are dead, their bodies still and unmoving. Some severed limbs are scattered in the wreckage. In spite of the violent destruction, there are survivors inside the cars. A child’s cries echo within a snarl of metal and wires while two Tinkers work as quickly as they can to free him. They certainly wouldn’t mind more help.

In the third and fourth car, the livestock didn’t fare well. Slammed between the passenger cars and two following cars carrying goods, they have largely been reduced to smears of blood and tiny shards of bone. Much more can be salvaged from the cars carrying canned goods, grains, and other foods. Dhemlan is known for its orchards, and the cars are filled with the remains of peaches, apples, and grapes. The smell of pulverized fruits mixes with that of death, covering the area in a sickly sweet scent.

As the volunteers disembark from their railcar, Allairavar warns them about the grisly scene. He leaves search and rescue to those best suited to it, instead calling for a group to help him spread out and investigate the surrounding area. While Master Transporter Sorrel calls on a few of his best people (and perhaps a Stranger or two) to assist him with the smoking engine, he asks the volunteers to keep a careful eye on the remains of the caravan.

“There will be clues about who did this,” he says. Behind him, with a grimace, Allairavar nods. “Bring anything you can find to us.”

It becomes immediately apparent that even though the caravan was transporting both Blood and landens, and livestock and food for everyone, no one wants to work together. Sorrel focuses exclusively on the damage to the Dhemlan railcar’s engine. The Hunters are more inclined to find their own among the dead and cause trouble with the Healers and Strangers who have come to help. The Transporters and Tinkers try to salvage what they can of the damaged railcars. Allairavar only wants to find the mercenary band he’s certain is behind this—and he fixates on this to the exclusion of all else. Only Loren makes an attempt to organize the volunteers to recover the injured survivors and the scattered supplies, but he seems shaken.


THE WASTELANDS
Outside of Draega, a blasted and barren world unfolds before the Strangers. Tactically minded individuals will quickly realize the caravan was attacked in this location because of the hilly surroundings. There are no trees or forests to vanish into, but the rolling hills go on for miles in every direction, providing cover for a raiding band. Small valleys between the hills contain numerous dangers: from boggy, swampy ground to ponds containing toxic water. The water here can’t be drunk, and anyone who tries to consume it will become violently ill within a handful of hours. Animals are scarce but fierce, willing to attack people for the chance at a meal.

Harsh sunlight beats down on the barren plains. The railcar from Draega arrived by at the scene of the attack around mid-morning. By noon, the relentless sun bakes the entire area. Steam rises from the few ponds, filling the air with noxious fumes and strange gasses. Everyone is quickly drenched in sweat.

Strangers helping Allairavar hunt for the mercenaries will be able to find and follow human tracks. There are fewer than one might expect for a raiding party, and many abruptly vanish, but some lead back to a small camp about half a mile away from the railcar tracks. No one is in the camp when it is discovered, but there’s plenty of information to be unearthed by the keen-eyed.

Allairavar assumes a post in the camp, there to explain the mercenary bands to those who ask. “There’s hundreds of them,” he tells the curious. “Some are made up of only five members. Some command the strength of hundreds. When they get too big, they splinter. Rivalries form between the groups. They have no issue slaughtering each other for food.” He grinds his teeth together. Allairavar hates the mercenary bands. If Strangers press him too hard about the mercenaries, he’ll snap at them abruptly: “If you want a damn history lesson, go to Loren.”


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
[As always, Evandra speaks with a rough, husky voice.] Today, it might be helpful for our Strangers to understand Territories. Lord Aren, how do the Blood usually divide up the rule of a Territory?

[Aren, cheerfully, in that boyish voice of his:] In days past, a Territory Queen used to oversee the entire Territory. She’d look after both the Blood and landens on her land.

[Evandra interjects:] But usually just the Blood. We were left to our own devices.

[A thin, nervous chuckle issues from Aren.] Quite so… Ah, reporting to the Territory Queens were myriad Province Queens. A Province Queen was responsible for larger regions within a Territory and overseeing local disputes. Beneath a Province Queen, a handful of District Queens might report to her if the Province was populated well enough. District Queens usually ruled over a few small villages, no more than two or three. Since people in Hayll live almost exclusively in Draega and there aren’t many Queens left, ruling everything falls on the Lady Fayura.

[With curiosity, Evandra asks:] And is a Territory Queens always darker Jeweled than the women—er, witches who report to her?

[Aren is quick to respond.] Not at all! A Territory Queen becomes a Territory Queen as much because of the Blood males who serve her and her social power as her Jewels. Why, there are stories about…

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.] …days of intense heat and little cloud cover. With the spring harvest coming in soon, farmers should be conscious of the heat and the possibility of crops burning in the sun. As a reminder, the Medico Guild…

the news
[Garret hastily threw together an interview with Grand Master Niall shortly after the plume of smoke appeared on the horizon. Several hours later, it plays over the Farcaster network.

Garret leads with a question:] …describe the relationship between Hayll’s Guilds and Dhemlan’s?

[Niall makes a thoughtful noise. Somehow, even without seeing him, his energy and charisma comes through quite clearly.] Very good. I have nothing but respect for Grand Master Kern. [He chuckles.] Even if he is a Transporter.

[Garret:] Is there a rivalry between your original Guild and the Transport Guild?

[Niall:] Not at all. A rivalry implies a level playing field to begin with, and while the Transport Guild innovates with marvelous inventions, they simply don’t provide the same value as other Guilds, like the Hunters.

Comments

[sunborne]

[ daylight's immediate reaction is to throw his servos up, looking apologetic as possible. it's clear that he doesn't like this sort of stuff and he isn't, ah, equipped for it. it's why he wants dialup or emergency aid or nightbreak with him more than ever. (well. not nightbreak. she might make the situation here worse somehow.)

but someone's got to bring this up and he might as well get to the point. something something rip off the staticmesh soon as possible- ]

I think this attack is a retaliation. For the Black Widows. Amanita, Harrin, and Little Blue.

[ again, he raises his servos. again, he looks apologetic. please hear him out on this until the end...? ]

When I went to you to ask for the basics on Black Widows- You told me that there's a thing where mercenaries 'recruited' them for their own purposes. We know the three had ties with a band of them outside the city. Not related to what happened with the girl at the time but...

I bet losing three Black Widows would have been a big blow to the group. And I bet they would been really angry at the turn of events. Or desperate.

[ maybe both, given the scale of the attack and sheer number of women grabbed from the caravan during the chaos. ]

[agentlenpc]

[Fayura listens closely, taking a sip from her coffee as Daylight speaks. Her Jewel is dark enough that her metabolism is too fast for the caffeine to really effect her, so as soon as the cup is empty, she pours another.]

It's possible. Were any of the witches on the manifest Black Widows?

[Her speaking voice is suddenly fragile. Brittle. She holds herself carefully as she speaks.]

We would need to know which group specifically attacked the caravan, and it's true that a mercenary lord hungry for access to a Black Widow would have the most luck attacking one of the caravans. They're easier targets than a city. But consider that witches—that women weren't the only ones missing.

[Her eyes harden, her expression chilling.]

Consider that a broken witch can have only one child after she's been broken. Consider that it takes generations to breed the ability to wear a Jewel into a landen Blood line. [She drinks her coffee now so she has a moment to collect herself as pain and fury well within her.] Consider what that means for people who live hard and lean and desperate, who use their fists to control instead of the rule of law.

[sunborne]

[ daylight does consider her words and it hits him hard. made obvious by the way his winglets hitch and quiver as if struck, as though the mere thought of what the women would be forced into is a physical blow and maybe it is for him.

it's- almost alien for day to think. with earth and other planets under the guard of both the galactic union and its allies, they've managed to stamp those sort of things out so this- this is a lot for him to take in and to know this is real, this is happening to someone right now.

that thought alone almost has him leap to his pedes. but as he leans forward, ready to hop off and run, the furniture's uneasy creaking keeps him in check.

the sound, loud and sharp, reminds him that a question was asked and he tries to answer it to the best of his abilities. his mind if a jumble of racing thoughts and questions and ideas, but he manages to pluck out the relevant stuff: ]

There were- There are Black Widows that's part of the group. Two of them. I'll need to review the manifest again and ask around to get more info on the two but- Yes. They were part of the caravan. [ and they'll be rescued. like everyone else who got captured and are still unaccounted for. he almost wants to get up and hurry out to tackle this head on but no.

daylight knows the others would stay here longer to figure out more, to go rush blindly into a situation to ensure the best outcome. and since they're not here with him, he needs to think like them. ] So... Right now, I guess we need to narrow down the list of suspects then.

Were we able to get anymore information out of the others before the sentence was passed? Figure out their ties with others?

[ he wondered if any of them would have spoken before their deaths. would they have taken their secrets to their graves as a final act of rebellion? said something in an attempt to get mercy? daylight isn't sure, having pulled away when it was clear what their fates were, and he feels bad for choosing that now. ]