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

[fulgency]

[Whether it is by virtue of his own personality or the magic that has overtaken his mind, the necromancer does not recognize Chariot as possessing any authority over him. He gives no indication that he will choose to yield even at this point when he is clearly trapped with no other escape. Instead, he calls upon magic he has not practiced in some time to shield himself as he tries once more to bring about shambling corpses from behind them, combining their forms into something much larger.]

wow i sure did not get a notif for this

[beariot]

[ Chariot didn't blink. She fired the arrow at his leg. If he wouldn't kneel, she had the ability to force the issue. If nothing else, it would break his concentration on the spell. ]

I said on your knees and hands above your head!

[fulgency]

[Having not spent as much practice in magics beyond his necromancy leaves his shield weaker than it ought to otherwise be for someone with as much skill as him. And so, with a crackle of energy, the arrow pierces the necromancer's shield, landing square in its intended target. The necromancer howls in pain as behind the sphinxes and Chariot comes the horrible, sickening sound of flesh that was just beginning to be restitched together falling apart and hitting the cobblestone. Ramesses' sphinx surges forward with less than nonlethal intentions.]

[beariot]

Hold!

[ It wasn't her sphinx to command, sure, but she spoke with authority, regardless. She had no intention of killing this man, or allowing anyone else to do so if she could help it. She intended to stick to her principals here, regardless of what anyone, including protective divine beasts, might think. ]

[fulgency]

[The sphinx truly possesses only one master and it is his authority that the sphinx will recognize above all others. But because this sphinx is not one summoned as a result of Ramesses' close connection to the king of its species, being born of his magic instead, means that there are others that it chooses to recognize as well. Chariot commands the sphinx to hold, and it does. The scrape of claws against the cobblestone bounce about in the alleyway as the sphinx puts a halt to its own forward momentum, turning to look back at Chariot.]

[Expressionless as all of Ramesses' sphinxes are, it's probably difficult to read the beast's mood based upon its stare alone. But the way its wings flare and claws dig into the ground beneath its feet. It's obviously displeased to be brought to a stop as it's now torn between Ramesses' past directives and Chariot's in the immediate.]

[What happens next is quick.]

[The necromancer takes his opening, hobbling the few steps forward and driving a dagger between the ribs of the divine beast in front of him. The sphinx's roar is warbled with pain, jerking away from the necromancer. It strikes out blindly with its claws in retaliation as it hops further away. Unfortunately for the necromancer, the injury to his leg makes him far less nimble. As he attempts to maneuver around the sphinx to make his escape the sphinx's claws catch him and send him flying back into the dead end. The necromancer hits the wall hard and slumps weightlessly to the ground and he does not move anymore. Fortunately for him, his robes managed to take most of the damage from the sphinx's claws. His skin doesn't look nearly so terrible and close to rotting off as the Witch who still lay in the street does.]

[The sphinx continues with its racket and tries its best to remove the dagger that's still embedded in its side. It should be somewhat trivial to a creature this size and imbued with this much magic, but there's clearly something more to this dagger as the fur around the wound seems to be increasingly paling and the sphinx's movements seem almost as though it were intoxicated with the way it keeps bumping into the walls and stumbling.]

[beariot]

[ Chariot felt her stomach fall into a pit, witnessing the dagger thrust well before she could react to it. Not just from being unable to prevent it, but the metaphorical stabbing in her chest from knowing she was at fault for it, for having ordered them to hold.

Chariot flew from her mount, ignoring the sharp, sudden pain in her leg as she hit the floor running, letting her cane clatter once more to the side. She rushed to the sphinx, throwing up a healing spell, pulling the curse dagger away at the same time. ]

[fulgency]

[There's another low groan from the sphinx as the dagger is pulled from its side, though it is the healing spell that keeps it from blindly lashing out. Instead, the sphinx leans heavily against the building opposite its injured side while the wound stitches itself together. The healing spell appears to be holding the hex in place, freezing it in its progression, but the color does not yet seem to be returning.]

[Behind Chariot and the other sphinx is the sound of returning footfalls.]

[beariot]

[ She couldn't be bothered to hear those sounds. She was narrowly focused on her task, putting as much of her mana as she had left into healing the wound, pushing back the hex, to undo her mistake. ]

[fulgency]

[Chariot's sphinx is at least paying attention, though it's not particularly reactive to the person making their approach. Ramesses returns, unscathed from the pursuit of the other Witch. He takes only a moment to look further down the alley to see the crumpled necromancer, confirming that he poses no further threat before Ramesses' attention is entirely on Chariot. Ramesses' sphinx makes an attempt to stand back upright and through its own strength upon seeing its master. But Ramesses places a hand upon its side, and the beast lets itself lean some of its weight into the building once more.]

Are you hurt?

[He asks despite looking Chariot over. He knows better than to think simply because there's no physical sign of injury that she is necessarily entirely well. His sphinx, in this moment, is a secondary concern.]

[beariot]

The blade had a hex on it! I... I don't know if I have enough mana to treat it!

[ He hadn't asked about the divine beast. She knew he hadn't. But she was ignoring her own pain, the stinging in her leg, the ache in her hip. She knew it wouldn't exactly help to do so, but Ramesses had to have seen her answer coming, at least a little. It was always someone, anyone, above her in terms of priority, especially in a moment like that. ]

[fulgency]

[Ramesses' sighs quietly. He knew. Of course, he knew. But he offers no correction that he was not asking after the sphinx. There's little point when Chariot already knows what he was really asking. Her attention won't shift from the sphinx until it's healed completely.]

[Although he still has a deep reserve of mana to pull from, Ramesses cannot offer her direct help in treating the wound and removing the hex. He's not particularly well-trained enough in the healing arts to be of any real assistance. Without a Bond between them, there are no easy means of transferring Ramesses' mana to where it needs to be. For a moment, Ramesses thinks it may be best to put the beast down and alleviate it from its misery. While he knows the sphinx would accept such a fate, he doesn't think that Chariot would. Whatever she's feeling right now would only intensify. So what other options are there...?]

[Healing magic can be aided through blood as a focus and Witch's blood is naturally laden with mana... Crude as the method may be and as much as it would probably earn some disapproving looks from some of the Witches among Aefenglom's Coven despite the low quantity, it seems to be the only option to removing the hex. Ramesses draws a dagger from his side, and draws a line in the palm of his hand.]

Take what you need.

[Ramesses brings his now bleeding hand near to where she is working her spell.]

[beariot]

[ Chariot gave a quick nod, hardly an expression for the actual swell of gratitude she felt, but she still had her work to focus on. Channeling the mana from Ramesses blood, she refocused the spell, glyphs pouring out from her fingertips along the beast's skin, creating a soothing light that traced itself over where the curse had reached, drawing it out, and letting it dissipate into ether. ]

[fulgency]

[It's a strange sensation having his mana drawn from him this way, to say the least. Although he is willing in his offering of it and he does not struggle against it, he is used to being the one to control the ebb and flow of it as none of his Bonded have ever attempted to draw the magic from him intentionally. There's also this faint awareness of its manipulation as it's woven into the spell, familiar warm tones of Chariot's own mana intermingling with his for the barest of moments before it becomes more tethered to her spellwork than to him any longer.]

[The sickly pallor of the sphinx's wound disappears as the hex is lifted, though the weakness in the beast's muscles will need a few moments more before it's entirely lifted. But in the meantime, it extends a wing and draws Chariot into a semblance of an embrace. Ramesses pats its shoulder with his clean hand.]

It's alright.

[He's not saying that for the sphinx's benefit.]

[beariot]

[ Chariot was quick to throw her arms about the beast in relief, letting out a heavy sigh as all of the tension bled from her the moment she was certain they were going to recover. She still felt those familiar pangs of guilt, those needles in her heart, but it was bearable, for the moment, knowing she undid the damage...

Well. That was bearable, but the realization of her own physical ache was not. Chariot let out a sharp gasp and grown as her body reminded her, quite forcefully, that she was still injured, herself, collapsing against the beast and wincing. ]

Damnit... I suppose this is my punishment for all this...

[fulgency]

[Her additional weight is of little consequence to the sphinx normally, but as she slumps against it and it is still recovering its own strength, it needs a moment to adjust its footing to keep her upright. There's little need for such concern though as Ramesses is quick to react and throw his arm around her as she collapses to keep her from hitting the ground.]

[That does not mean, however, that Ramesses is not immediately filled with concern the moment she starts her slight downward trajectory. He barely even hears her talk of punishment.]

What happened? Did you injure your leg?

[beariot]

I've taken a few spills and... wasn't careful dismounting, earlier. It's all kind of catching up with me.

[ There was only so much magic she could do to keep the injury from being a factor, after all. And what's more, nothing she could really do about the pain, either, once the adrenaline had worn off. Between the sphinx and Ramesses, she at least wasn't hitting the ground again. But as for her ability to keep fighting... ]

[fulgency]

Then you should fall back. [Ramesses heals the cut on his hand just a moment before picking Chariot up and placing her on the back of his sphinx, who instinctively bends down to make placing her there as gentle as possible.] There will be far more to do after this assault is brought to its end, and you will be needed then.

[He places his hand on her thigh, sending warmth into her to spread from her hip down to her toes to dull the pain. It's not enough to make her fighting fit once more or completely eliminate it, but any agitation the ride back might cause won't be felt immediately at the very least. As he does so, he reaches toward the sphinx's neck, stroking its mane.]

Stay with her. [Ramesses looks to Chariot's sphinx as well, who steps a little closer.] Deliver her to safety as my stallions once delivered me in Kadesh.

[His words are not a gentle request or suggestions. There is an implied whatever it takes to his words as they are commands spoken by a man who once led armies. Both sphinxes appear understanding of this, Ramesses' sphinx especially, as they both bow their heads. Ramesses looks back to Chariot, his hand leaving her thigh for her hand.]