Event Log: September, The Price of Revolution p1

[faileas]

Event Log: September, The Price of Revolution Part 1

I. The Freedom Festivities Behind the fortress-like walls of Dorchacht, what was once a gloomy, imposing city is lit up for the festivities to come. Septeril brings with it many mixed emotions for the citizens of what used to be called The Black City, though the overwhelming atmosphere is positive - this is a celebration of freedom hard-earned and prosperity hard-fought-for. The triple stars of the Resistance, now the current reigning party, feature heavily in decorations and in clothing: in pins, on hats, golden stars enchanted into fabric to dance merrily across skirts and cloaks. Stars light up the streets in decorative strings hung from lamppost to lamppost, flickering gently over the cobblestones. Mirrors, as well, feature into the decor, tiny round ones hung in multitudes from awnings and in windows like ornaments, catching the light and playing it across the otherwise-utilitarian architecture, lending it a sort of understated beauty. Much of Dorchacht has been rebuilt and repurposed by necessity since the uprising last year, and many new small businesses and restaurants are being featured at the festival - their goods or their foods on display in markets of street-side stalls or on the feast tables. Local handmade wares and crafts are out for sale for modest prices, and every sale helps out both the small business, many of which are started by former slaves, and helps the local economy, which is better these days but still recovering. The festivities go for six days, almost a full week, with feasting and bonfires every evening, and tours and tales of the city by day, as they display the changes for the better they have all made. And then, on the final evening, all are invited to watch a grand fireworks show that will be put on in the skies over Dorchacht, presided over by the Circle of Three themselves. Mirrorbound are welcomed warmly, whether they were present last year or not, and treated much like family - get ready to be pulled into activities and plied with food left and right. a. Join the Fun The children of Dorchacht are out by the dozens during the festivities, excited by all the freely-offered, special sweet treats and the magical sparklers and poppers being handed out by the fistful. The poppers explode when thrown to the ground in bursts of bright colors, completely harmless, and the sparklers are enchanted not to burn little (or big) hands if mishandled. Mirrorbound passing through may find themselves roped into elaborate pretend games of revolution by eager faces: the children name themselves either Resistance members or Mirrorbound, and 'do battle' with their magic fireworks against scarecrow-like constructions cloaked in dark bed sheets as 'the bad guys'. Depending on one's perspective, it may seem dark, but this is what these children have known very recently in their lives, and their caretakers or parents (there are more of the former than the latter, especially for the young Monsters) let them play as they will. If asked, they'll just explain that some of those kids even remember the fighting when it happened; this is just another way that they try to understand how the city has changed. More organized, family-friendly reenactment performances are also common, with several of the orphanage groups putting on small plays about the uprising, or moral plays about kindness and togetherness between Witches and Monsters. This includes a prominent set of performances by the Mirrored Hearts Home for Children - maybe you're helping out with their sets or costumes, or maybe you assisted with their scripts and songs. Those Mirrorbound volunteers will want to see the kids do well, right? They'll be heartbroken if you don't show. Of course, kids aren't the only ones doing reenactments. The newly formed Dorchacht Historical Society, dedicated to protecting Dorchacht's history going forward, puts on several - and may drag in passers-by to play different roles! Only the luckiest are begged to play the role of The Dragon, who valiantly rose up against their cruel former master, Morgana, and helped lead Dorchacht to where they are today. b. Forget-Me-Not While the overall air is celebratory, among the adults who are old enough to understand just what was lost as well as gained, there is an undercurrent of sombre remembrance. Many visit the burned-out Old Coven, left as damaged as it was when the fighting ceased, as a monument to how freedom fighters suffered and fought. Plaques dot the grounds and buildings there seemingly at random, until you realize that each metal plate bearing names is laid where someone died. To decorate these plaques, and homes and businesses as well, there are tables set up in the yard of the New Coven, heavy with a rainbow of small magical flowers called Forget-Me-Nots, and the supplies to make remembrance wreaths. In this new tradition, the flowers are chosen with a dead, missing, or simply absent loved one in mind, and woven together with glass beads, small wooden charms, and a spell written on a slip of paper. The enchanted fragrance of the Forget-Me-Nots allows whoever smells them to witness short, happy memories of the person the wreath was made for - whether they knew that person or not. The memories come from the wreath-maker, and are only short flashes (less than a minute long) or mere impressions, but all are pleasant or warming. With the spell woven in, they'll last for an entire year without wilting or losing their effects, a souvenir from the festival to take home. Mirrorbound are encouraged to join in, and make wreaths of their own, whether or not they lost someone in Dorchacht's uprising. It can be for someone who has disappeared from Geardagas, someone who died long ago, someone living they miss from home, anyone who is not currently with them.

II. The Uninvited Guests On the 25th, the final day of the celebrations, the partying lasts all day. Food and drink are abundant on every corner, upbeat music is played by street performers and over the radios that can be found in nearly every household and shop, and the bonfires have been enchanted to let the flames take fanciful shapes. Drinking games and dancing, storytelling and general partying all last clear into the evening, but once dusk falls, everyone gathers in the center square of the city for the fireworks show. The Three are there - the Witches Bryn and Hilda, and the Monster known as The Dragon, Starlight, or formerly Fafnir - with Nessie and Mhairi as guests of honor, and Hilda is the one to set off the first enchanted fireworks, after a brief speech thanking everyone for coming out to celebrate a year of freedom and independence with them. It's with bursts of colorful light in the night sky behind her that she seems to appear from nowhere: tall, dark and imposing, a sharp-eyed Witch that exudes power. Morgana Drummond is not alone, either, flanked by a dozen rough-worn Witches and a host of others. The chaos that ensues is immediate and violent. "All of this for me?" Drummond sneers. Attacks bounce off her, no matter how powerful - even Nessie's considerable spells. Witches will be able to sense the strong barrier spell close-fit around her body, and the others around her will not let Monsters get close. It's The Dragon who speaks, voice rough from disuse but loud enough: "How dare you return here-" "I built this city in all the ways that matter. I was never going to let you have it. You burned away my Dorchacht, so now I will make sure there is nothing left of yours but ashes." a. To Sleep, Perchance Unreachable, Morgana Drummond's form limns in a sickly violet light, the circle of a spell forming beneath her feet, steadily growing as her power gathers. So much magic gathered in one spot is bound to be felt by all the Mirrorbound, Witch and Monster alike, oppressive in nature as if it could steal the breath from your lungs. Perhaps it truly was a fluke that she was driven from Dorchacht, a happy accident caused by a timely distraction. The spell circle spreads, glowing, until it envelops the entire city, and it pulses once, blinding, before it sears itself across Dorchacht's streets and buildings in burnt lines and symbols. The fireworks continue to pop and burst overhead, casting shadows that seem suddenly sinister. Nothing happens for just a moment - and then all the people of Dorchacht collapse in waves. Next to a stunned Nessie and furious Mhairi, Bryn, Hilda, and the Dragon fall into a heap as well, the final three bodies to hit the ground. Mirrorbound and citizens of Aefenglom do not fall prey to the sleeping spell despite being in its area of effect. It happens in the span of just a few minutes, and then Morgana is gone in the blink of an eye, leaving her people to sow terror on the sleeping city. b. Battle on the Streets While she brought with her only a dozen Witches from her former Coven, she's collected a force in the Wilde. Blank-eyed rogue necromancers, mind controlled the way the Monsters of Dorchacht used to be, storm the streets controlling in turn their dead Monsters and creatures. A few even have with them dead Nuckelavee, which will require multiple fighters to take out. Wilders from Dorchacht gone missing on expeditions in the last year bear the signs of mind control as well - the ones who aren't dead, shambling around the necromancers. Maybe you recognize them, maybe you don't. Maybe you can help them, or maybe you can't. The mind control enchantments can be dispelled with a lot of effort or with the specific spells used often by the Resistance a while ago, for those who still remember it. In the slums of Dorchacht, the people who were convinced of Morgana's return, those who want to return to the days of slavery and terror, break free from the now-sleeping guards and failing wards that kept them contained and join the fighting, manic in their glee. The spell that put the rest of Dorchacht to sleep seems to slip right off them, perhaps sensing their loyalty to terrible causes. It is chaos, as the insurgents set fires and attack at will with magic, claws, weapons, anything they have. Mirrorbound will soon realize that they and the visitors from Aefenglom are not the only targets. The sleeping people of Dorchacht are ripe for the killing, unable to react or defend themselves. The fighting will continue into the night until the invaders are all dead or captured.

III. The Aftermath When the fighting ends, the work begins. An entire city deep in the throes of an enchanted sleep is a worst-case scenario that none of them could have predicted, even those who had a hunch Morgana didn't die out in the unexplored Wilde. Miss Nessie and Mhairi will remain on the scene helping to direct the aid efforts in the aftermath of the battle. Fires must be put out, corpses must be rounded up to be buried or burned, captured attackers must be secured and questioned, sleeping citizens must be whisked from the streets to safety and shelter, and buildings ensured to be safe in the meantime. Aefenglom's Coven are called in to assist, anyone who is available, and Mirrorbound help is more than welcomed. They will need everyone they can get to make sure not all is lost in this tragic attack. Nessie herself will ensure the Three are taken to safety in Aefenglom until the people of Dorchacht can be woken. Action needs to be taken quickly. Morgana needs to be found as soon as possible, and capable hands will be needed to search the Wilde far outside Dorchacht, the most likely place for her to go. More urgently, however, are the sleeping citizens. Nessie announces late the next evening, the normally-bubbly woman gone solemn and serious: "I believe I've found a counter-ritual for the spell that nasty woman used, I have. I will need your help, though, Mirrorbound. Volunteers only, of course, of course, as it's likely to be quite dangerous, though the Dreamers and I will take every precaution we can. Discuss among yourselves, decide if you're willing. Those who are, meet at the Coven at midnight on the 27th. It's not right to just leave them all like that, not right at all..."

Welcome to September's event log, Part 1 of The Price of Revolution! This event will continue in the TDM posted on the 21st, with a foray into purposeful dreamwalking. It will be a hybrid test drive and event that current characters will be allowed to top level on as well. Quests into the Wilde to search for Morgana will currently bear no fruit beyond small clues, but Part 2 in early October will deal with her whereabouts and her final fate. As always, direct your questions about the event HERE! And finally, for those who are wondering what's up with Dorchacht, we have a Setting update for you.

Comments

[oathkeeper]

[With Riku and Kairi around Sora felt comfortable about jumping back and forth between the two places. Spending time with all his bondmates was important to him. Even if most of the time Sora ended up sleeping with Vanitas in his bed it was still Sora who felt like he should be in both places. He didn't really think too hard about it all.

But if it's Vanitas' wish? And something Sora needs right now? Why not. He wants to be with his bondmate. He should be with him.

His fingers tug on Vanitas to keep him close. Kissing him with gentle pressure as the fireworks crackle and snap above them. As long as he has Vanitas his heart doesn't feel broken at all. And when they break Sora keeps his forehead close and smiles,]

Guess your wish is gonna come true then. So long as you don't hog up all the sheets all the time. [Teasing, teasing.]

[darkcharge]

[ Van, of course, knows that this is the reason that Sora goes back and forth. All of his connections are important to him. The Witch, however, is greedy. Eventually he had intended to ask this. It had been inevitable, especially with all of the events that have happened in the last couple of months. Too many close calls and disasters ( in his opinion ).

He keeps his forehead pressed against the Puca's. ]

You're the one that likes to make the nests. I just roll with it.

[petcromancer]

If you say so.

[Worrying about his own safety first is nothing new to Hector, though he's trying to be better. Still, there's a line between compassion and martyrdom he's not willing to cross.]

If we can get to the New Coven house, we can use the teleporter to get home.

[Or Hector can, no telling if Berserker will follow or not.]

[trulygifted]

( This counts as a success to Nico, who unfolds her arms to place her hands on her hips as she watches him dip into that little bow. A grin touches her lips: )

Then it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Hubert. I tell most people just to call me Nico, but you?

( Since he's Mister Refined, and all ... )

You can call me Nicoletta.

( She tosses him a playful wink. )

I'm down at the shop most nights — we're open 4 'til 12 so we don't exclude the nocturnal folks.

[yesdoubt]

[Momo doesn't care enough what the dust is to even remotely hesitate in drawing up another spell and sending what looks like a very slightly blunted icicle shooting at the responsible party. He might not want to impale them, but it's a whole lot of blunt force that lands square in the side of the person's head, putting them down for the count for the foreseeable future. In general, he's just really not here to hesitate if there's any of the enemy Witches still in sight.

The fact that the dust doesn't seem to do anything to him despite it looking like it's giving Mikasa a bad time has him pretty set on what it probably is, though. So while he nods in answer to her question, he begins to instead draw a barrier spell on his arm, slightly more complex than just the simple ones he can throw down easily now.]

You really need to see the size of some of my juniors, if you're going to ask silly stuff like that. [He completes the spell and a pink bubble expands, covering the two of them and pushing back any dust that's still in the air. It might catch the fragments on Mikasa's skin or clothing as it passes over her and pull them away, but it's not so useful for anything that's gotten into her eyes since that's no longer an obvious foreign body to the spell.]

I made this to filter out spores during the Red Death stuff, so iron fragments should be way bigger than that. It'll hopefully cover our asses better if that's how they're playing it. Anyway - you didn't really answer my question. Carrying, disguise, what kind of help do you prefer?

[Because she's getting help regardless. He's not the type to let someone limp themselves to safety in ten times as long as necessary because pride or something.]

[sparkstrikes]

[Lightning catches up just as their bodies slump to the floor, and she hardly casts them a glance before she shoves her weapon back into its sheath.]

What's up with all this?

[Clearly, she missed something somewhere between jumping through worlds and mirrors...]

That witch's got one hell of a grudge...

[sparkstrikes]

Yeah.

[It's all she says for a while, because there isn't much more to say to that. Being older doesn't make them any less afraid. Hell, Lightning is scared... but it's all in how they deal with it. Later, it'll turn into anger and in turn, strength to help take down Morgana and her witches. For now, the children need a pillar and she wants to help in any way that she can.]

Became a Guardian Corps for the same reason. Wanted to protect people... [It doesn't quite line up with being a teacher, but their motivations are similar, she thinks.] There anything I can do to help? Not real good at magic, but...

[She can feel the warmth and magic exuding off of Ursula, and she wants to make sure the other woman doesn't overexert herself before the fighting is over.]

[bloodypath]

[Hubert chuckles lowly. ]

Very well, then. Nicoletta it is. I'll keep those hours in mind.

[Not that they would pose much difficulty, consider he hardly slept and lived with a vampire as it was. ]

Hopefully this will be lucrative for the both of us.

[clickclickbang]

[Prompto shrugs.]

A little, yeah. I want to help them because they've been through some shit, but also because Caren can't anymore.

[getting_better]

[ There's already a hand up signaling him to hold his ground by the time Momo popped out, which he holds up for a couple of seconds before gesturing for him to follow his lead. Or at least he hopes he understood that since Bishop is crouched as he heads back towards the street but stops right at the end of the building for cover.

Peeking over the corner he sees and relays - ]

Male, no visible physical difference from a human so likely a witch. Mid to late thirties by the looks of it. Judging from the outfit, he's not a necromancer, so he's one of the people who's probably not too happy with the current state of things.

[ He peeks a bit further to get more the street and clicks his tongue. ]

There's another with him a few paces behind. Necromancer. Looks like he has a few zombies with him.....some.....freshly turned.

[weatherscience]

Wait, you've run into murderous witches before?

[ that sounds like..... very much not a good time at all. ]

But I agree! What's this whole thing, anyway? If they want to kill the people in this city, why are we targets, too?

[clickclickbang]

I'm counting Ardyn as a witch for this.

[Because seriously.]

And we did kind of start the entire revolution...

[braidmage]

[ Reynir feels it all: the wave of sadness, the self-irritation and embarrassment that follow, and he doesn't say anything. Onni feels things so deeply and Reynir worries sometimes that if he says the wrong thing, does the wrong thing, he might do real harm. Onni's been harmed enough already, without him adding anything new.

So he chooses his words unusually carefully, when it comes time to answer. ]

Maybe... you have. Maybe it was helpful to you, for a while, not to be so aware of- of the things you lost.

[ Reynir meets Onni's gaze, his beautiful, freckled face soft with concern and deep affection. He chews at the inside of his lip, speaking with great care: ]

I understand it might be... scary, thinking about changing any of those habits you got into, when all you were thinking about was how to survive one day at a time. But- a lot's happened. You're someplace safe, for now, and- and you aren't alone.

[ And he reaches out, taking Onni's hand into his and lacing their fingers together. His heart stutters in bright happiness at the contact, and he pulls Onni's hand up, pressing it against his own chest, right above his breastbone. It's too much, maybe. He's too much, probably. Reynir knows that. But he keeps going. ]

You've got me now. So... it's okay if you decide you don't want to know. But if you do want to know, I'll be here. I can't tell you which is the right decision. I just - want you to know the option is there. It's your call.

[scatmaam]

You heard'em, warriors! We break to the south! Push!

[ She turned her attention back to Vanitas, nodding. ]

Cover our rear! They're going to try to keep pinning us fro many direction they can!

[beariot]

I'll just need a moment to rest and to drink one of my recharge potions...

[ Why had she brought them? It had almost seemed paranoid on her part before. Part of her just never trusted that there would be actual peace awaiting in the Black City. Morgana's scars hadn't gone away, as much as The Three desperately tried. One didn't walk away from that situation without some paranoia...

Well. Turns out she was right. She hated it. ]

Know any good lullabies?

[crowsfeat]

Let's hope it has eyes to be blinded! [ Eileen nodded, firing off a shot that... barely really seemed to do any real damage, the Quicksilver Bullets not at all effective on the beast in terms of harm, but a bullet was still a bullet, and definitely stunned it briefly to keep it from swiping at Rikku. ]

[darkcharge]

[ Good because honestly that's just awkward for Vanitas. Some social interactions are just too confusing to him. ]

No, I wasn't. I don't know anyone that was involved and there's no one for me to remember.

[al_bhed]

[With Eileen's approval, Rikku pulls down her goggles to protect her eyesight and throws the bomb down. A bright flash of white light fills the air for a moment, and it seems that the undead dragon does, in fact, still have eyes. It roars and flails--dangerous, certainly, but at least it can't pinpoint her.

Rikku moves in again and slashes at the dragon's throat with her claw, hoping to get in deeply enough to sever its jugular. She draws blood, but not enough to suggest that she was successful in hitting the vein. As the dragon flails, it manages to knock Rikku off her feet after she scores the hit. She manages to roll away before a second, more fatal hit can land, but it's clear when she manages to stand again that she hit the ground hard. Her left arm is scraped and raw, bleeding a bit.

It hurts, but she's able to push that aside. For now.]

[gynvael]

[ The silence lingers there. Geralt doesn't answer right away. ]

I know. [ He knows it hadn't been deliberate. It'd just thrown him, hearing it only days after he'd left Cintra to return home. Thinking he'd failed her. Even now, it's not so simple. ]

Thought about it. [ Between dreams and hallucinations and prophecies, there've been too many people telling him what he's meant to do. None of it has helped a damn bit. ] She doesn't know me.

[ Will she? Apparently, some version of her had. Whatever that means. He's not surprised to hear the other hadn't said much about anyone else. Not Yennefer nor Jaskier nor Vesemir. Important people that Geralt has rarely spoken a word about. It says a lot -- more than anything -- that only Ciri had ever come up. And here he is, having not ever really met her. ]

[scowlish]

[It's easy to see the worry, the concern written all over Reynir's face. The Icelander has always been an open book that way, and with their Bond active now, and being this close to him, it's even more painfully obvious what Reynir is feeling, how carefully he is choosing his words in an attempt not to hurt Onni.

Mostly, Onni feels irritated at himself for so obviously needing to be emotionally protected that way. For being such an obviously emotional person struggling with things that he should have moved on from years ago. Pressing his lips into a straight line and trying to blink away the stinging from his eyes, he just watches and listens to Reynir while he talks about why his memories might have gone.]

I think it was. I had Tuuri and Lalli to look out for, after all. I had to make sure I got a job, that they would be fed, that they had someone who stayed with them who they could rely on. They couldn't rely on me if I was...if I cried all the time. I cried enough as it was, and I tried not to do it where they could see me. They had...they had enough to deal with.

[After a few moments, he can't maintain eye contact anymore and drops his gaze, fidgeting with the wreath in his hands.]

And I don't think much has changed, now. Tuuri is...Tuuri is gone, and Lalli has people who can take care of him now, but I'm still trying to survive, and to make things right. I can't afford to...

[His voice chokes off for a moment. Reynir keeps telling him he's not alone and that he doesn't have to do anything by himself, that he's safe and in a safe place. But none of that seems very real to Onni, he still feels like a threatened animal, backed into a corner, fighting to survive while wounded. It still takes the smallest trigger to have his system flooded with adrenaline and fear, or his eyes flood with tears and the grief open up like a bottomless pit.

There's no safety in that. He can't take care of himself like that.]

I don't know what I want.

[His voice comes out more strained than he'd intended, but he pushes himself to keep going.]

I'd like to...I'd like to see them again. But...

[It's not something he likes to admit, but if anyone would understand and, he thinks, not judge him for it...that would be Reynir.]

But I'm barely holding things together as it is. It's quiet here, I'm not on guard all the time, it's not as dangerous, so I keep thinking too much and I can't...

[He waves a hand, vaguely.]

If I see that, I don't know if I'll be able to keep holding things together. You understand?

[yesdoubt]

Alright. [Momo inclines his head as she goes, starting to move once she does. He doesn't want to get into line of sight, so he quickly casts an illusion between himself and the necromancer posse, bending light so he's invisible to them but still visible to Edelgard if she needs it. It'd be easier to just disappear himself entirely, but that might make tactics harder.

But for now, he keeps moving, starting to "write" another spell down his arms, as his casting method generally looks like. It goes down one forearm and then down the other, and then he moves up to just barely around the corner of a building from the group, holding onto the spell until Edelgard makes her own move and he can take the cue.]

[yesdoubt]

[Momo makes a spitting sound through his teeth at the "freshly turned" remark. It's not as if he wasn't expecting them to use resources so easily at hand, but it's still a hell of a thing to actually hear.] Of course. Guess their own dead aren't enough of a hint how that's going to go for them.

[He starts to prepare a spell - which with his usual casting method, involves "writing" it down one forearm, then the other with a finger. It leaves a glowing trail in its wake, a sign of the magic coming live to be used up when he properly casts it.]

How do you want to play this? No guarantee I'm not going to snap when I see the recently raised dead, but a little strategy never hurt anyone.

[Except whoever they're intending to hurt, which he is entirely okay with.]

[quintessent]

[She nods, just a little bit of a hard look coming over her expression. Since Kolivan arrived, and finding out about Keith's heritage, she's had a little bit of a softened heart when it comes to the Galra. But that didn't change the fact that Zarkon and his ilk needed to pay. It would take a lot more than a few good eggs to heal what has been done.

But she doesn't say that, and instead turns back to their wreaths,] That's true. And if they're only based on memories... Well, then that should be safe.

[She wasn't there for the loss of her planet, which was equal parts a relief and left her eternally feeling ill at ease. Like maybe it's still out there somewhere.

She affixes another flower to her wreath,]

My mother used to weave flowers in my hair like this - the gardens on Altea were unlike any other.

[And as she speaks, Momo might get a whiff of the flowers and a vision: A woman that could just as easily be confused for Allura herself, if not for the fact that a smaller Allura was sitting in her lap, pink and white flowers being tucked into her braided hair.]

[crowsfeat]

[ Eileen would commend Rikku's aim to find the right place to stab at, but the unfortunate truth was... ]

Normal killing blows won't work on something that's already dead, girl!

[ It wasn't scolding, despite the shout. It was more of a warning, for her to get the hell out of there, because the claw to its throat only seemed to stagger it. Eileen was quick to rush in and use the Blade of Mercy to hold off another sweep of its claws, buckling just slightly beneath the weight of it. ]

[oathkeeper]

It's because you smell so good.

[Sora says this before his brain can really catch up. He's noticed lately that the only reason why he likes to makes blanket nests so much is because it wraps him up with the faint lingering smell of his bondmate and his own scent. It's comforting. And maybe something a little more animalistic is under all of that, he doesn't quite understand it yet.]

You're really okay with me moving all my stuff in?