[open] January Catch-all

[towards_okeanos]

Who: Iskandar and anyone else ;)
When: All around Ieneuer
Where: Aefenglom and the Wilde
What: January Catch-all
Warnings: None (will update if necessary)


I. Could use a hand

With the biting, icy winds sweeping over the city occasionally giving way to gloomy fog that makes visibility drop, most reasonable people stay indoors. Iskandar is not reasonable. Not even the foulest weather can keep King of Conquerors holed inside. So at the first news that several of the Wilders outposts all around the city has been hit by sudden floods, he's out.
Even if the humid heat of the Wilde offers at least some respite from the cold, it seems the hellish weather has put all sorts of creatures, infected and not, in an extremely foul mood. That makes them a significantly larger nuisance - and real danger - in places where parts of the protection against dangers of the Wilde has just been washed away by an unexpected rainfall.

Iskandar can be found at a site of one such disaster already helping with the reconstruction effort. This is one of the smaller ones. Three buildings surrounded by a high earthworks wall now with a huge hole in place where the foundations have been washed away by a river of mud causing that segment of the wall to collapse. Iskandar is already down i the hole, at the base of the wall, knee deep in mud surveying the damage.

"Hey, there! Drop me that line, will you?"

There's indeed a line tied to a tree on the inner side of the damaged wall.

II. New Moons Mishaps (12 Ieneuer)

This is not a good day for one King of Conquerors. Iskandar boasts quite often about his exceptional luck but it seems that for whatever reason it has run out. He can't get anything right and all the way from the morning is just one disaster after the other. And not just any kind of disaster... It's the stupid magic. Just when he finally got used to the thought he can do magic, even started getting quite good at some part of it, the damned thing has gone crazy. No matter what he tried, on this day, everything went sideways.
It's really unpleasant - not to mention down right embarrassing - when you're own barrier is constantly zapping you at every attempt to enter your own house. If it was anything else, he'd think it's just him being lousy at stupid magic. It was enough he'd almost set kitchen on fire in the morning. That could have been him being lousy. But not the barriers. This is his damned specialty. If his good at anything in this cursed discipline it's barriers.

Whoever wanders near Iskandar's house in the early afternoon of the 12th of Ieneuer might encounter an unusual sight of King of Conquerors sitting on the stairs to his own house, completely ignoring the wind and the snow, cursing at significant volume. If the wind subsides for a moment, a loud crack of static can be heard from time to time.


III. Obligatory Wild card prompt

[[ooc. I will add prompts for quests later but I am always open for plotting either through plurk at bitweaver, PM or discord.]]

Comments

1.

[turmoiling]

[The 'hellish' weather is quite good for Jin Guangyao as well, much better than the city by far... and if it's good for the creatures of the Wilde, well, it's best to not dwell too long on any comparisons. Being such a monster would hardly be his first choice, but it's the hand he was dealt.

Pulled in while on his way Underground, he opted to help keep watch for creatures while the fortifications and traps are rebuilt -- he's hardly dressed for muddy dirty work, though the color of his long snake tail is more flat dirty brown than tan and bronze now.

Sliding down from his watch point at the top of the intact portion of wall, he wraps the end of his tail around a support before tossing the line down, not quite trusting anything after some earlier slippage.]

How does it look from down there?

[He asks mildly.]

[towards_okeanos]

[Iskandar ties the the loose end of the rope to one of the intact poles left exposed from the original construction than uses it for support as he climbs back.]

Bad. With all the mud and the rubble this hole will be indefensible if anything larger comes during the night.

[He is, himself, dressed for the weather and dirty work. That means only pants and heavy boots. He'd happily trade his current attire for a light chiton but no luck. At least here nobody complains about him going around shirtless. The heat is awful and humidity makes everything worse.]

The best thing that can be done if they don't want to completely abandon the place for now, is to gather some strong timber for a temporary palisade outside. It should protect people rebuilding the wall during the day and work well enough for the night.

[turmoiling]

Ah, and I'm afraid to say that abandoning it is hardly an option, so it seems there's quite a bit of work to be done before nightfall, then. This particular outpost is quite valuable, I think, especially with the closeness to the Underground's entrance.

[That's the other reason Jin Guangyao came after all, to slither underground to fine temperatures and a monster-friendly environment for a little trading.]

Speaking of which, I don't think I've had an opportunity to thank you for taking an awkward situation out of my hands. It has been a while, hasn't it?

[He chuckles. Awkward for him, and helpful for Iskandar, as far as he could tell. SO it all worked out very nicely in the end.]

[towards_okeanos]

I am sure nobody even thinks about abandoning. As you said, it way too valuable. Not now when they've finally established at least some semblance of regular trade with the Underground.

[Iskandar is less interested in trade on its own. His point of view is more from the Wilders' logistics side. Even if they are not an army, they have similar needs and safe passage between settlements is crucial for resupplying any force. A broken link on supply lines can endanger the whole system.]

Ah yes, it truly has. I hope nobody else bothered you later.

[They both got what they wanted out of this situation. Iskandar hasn't returned to the Underground city even when he had a chance. That one was enough. He got to fight at their arena once but he doubted they'll let him try again. It's one thing to humour a guest, it's something completely different to allow him to repeatedly go against established custom. He's well aware that arguing with people's traditions from an outside perspective rarely brings any positive effect.]

ii. why not

[grandspark]

[He heard the crack of energy followed closely by a loud curse as he walked down the street. It was enough to catch his attention and Rude glanced towards the house where it originated.

He paused when he noticed Iskandar.]

Trouble?

[He asked simply of the other man. He knew the other liked to talk so that was probably prompt enough from someone like Rude who rather liked to listen more than talk himself.

The large black dragon was huddled in multiple layers of warm clothing to keep the cold out. He looked a little ridiculous despite the style he usually tried to keep. A fine suit covered by a thick, furred jacket. His wings were even underneath the large coat to keep him warm. Least to say, this dragon did not like the cold and in fact he was in peril of dozing off just standing here and trying to hold a conversation with the other man. But, he wanted to so he was taking the risk.]

why yes :D

[towards_okeanos]

[Someone was bound to take notice. Iskandar is way too angry to care what anyone might think hearing his colourful languege. They might not understand Greek curses but his tone is rather telling. This is a familiar face though so his mood improves a little.]

You could say that.

[As he stands up another spark hits the place he was sitting just a moment before.]

I would have invited you inside but as you can see I cannot get into my own house myself. It's the stupid magical barrier I set up against intruders. It now treats me as one! Can you believe it?! I have no idea why the damned thing broke all of sudden. Should have bought a dog instead!

[Rude is quite right is his assessment. King of Conquerors is a man of many words.]

[grandspark]

[Rude grunted in initial response as he walked closer to the Witch and the house behind its barrier. He was eying said house and barrier with a keen look though whether Iskandar could tell that was up for debate considering despite all Rude's physical changes he still sported his (in)famous sunglasses.

He stopped next to Iskandar but still did not turn his attention to the king. He held out his hand and gently moved it forward towards the magical barrier, testing it out with caution. He wanted to know what it did.

Afterwards, he turned his head to look at Iskandar.]

Have you never had a problem with it before? Even when you were learning how to use this magic?

[He was curious--both about the magic itself and Iskandar's current problem.]

Could the moons have anything to do with it?

[towards_okeanos]

[Iskandar was always of the opinion that a man has the right to wear whatever he wishes unless it's grossly inappropriate or offensive to others. Sunglasses are none of those. They actually might be good idea in those rare moments when sun does show up and for a brief moment everything gets a whole lot brighter when its rays start reflecting off all the snow.]

I wouldn't have set them up on my own house if I wasn't absolutely sure I know what I'm doing. And answering your question, no, they did not. I had them here for moths already. Recharged from time to time like today and it never happened before.

[True, he never had set date for the recharging. He did it when he felt it's time. If someone asked how he knew Iskandar wouldn't be able to give a precise answer.]

I don't know, maybe? Hm, I never thought this could be an issue.

[The man might onto something. Iskandar has a vague recollection that the moons affect Witches too. Maybe he just got lucky before. Maybe some of the instances of his magic backfiring was not simply him being bad at it.]

[grandspark]

Witches are the opposite of Monsters, aren't they? When the New Moons occur they're the one with heightened magics and potential for issues.

[Although in his opinion it sounded easier to deal with. There was potential with disaster, or like in this case a mild disturbance and annoyance to deal with, but not as frustratingly personal as one's emotions and instincts going haywire. Which probably annoyed Rude so much because it was precisely against his normal nature. He preferred to be in perfect control of himself.

Whatever. He stayed focused on the problem at hand. Having a (newly) Bonded helped a little bit, and the fact that it wasn't the Full Moons. That said, he could feel the magic in the air and in full bloom around Iskandar. It was enticing. He and Reno still needed a Witch, didn't they. It would help even more.

Still besides the point at the moment. Focus.]

Maybe it has to do with that. You mentioned...trying to recharge it? A flux of too strong magic from the Moons effects perhaps.

[towards_okeanos]

That's true. Bah, I should have known better. Everything was acting weird today.

[Iskandar scratches his chin. Now he's just embarrassed. Truth is, he should have known. What's worse, he has wilfully ignored the signs. Like the incidents at Inkchanted earlier that they.]

I've never had problems on New Moons before. This time is the first. So I thought it ain't that bad. [Did he just admit Witches has it easier? It sure sounds so. As long as you don't count spells going wrong or risk of explosions.] Only now it does. And I really am out of ideas how to get rid of this excess magic and not blow shit up for a change in the process.

[He really hopes can figure this out before the end of the day.]

I

[curruid_coinchenn]

Muddy, cold, and wet. This is the most miserable work imaginable for a cold-blooded creature like Berserker, and yet here he is. It's work that needs to be done, regardless of how he feels about it. Truthfully, this is mostly just a distraction -- an excursion to keep his mind off of how awful the previous January had been. Patching up walls and killing infected creatures is much easier than addressing his trauma.

Berserker takes a few careful steps towards the tree, grimacing briefly at the squelch of mud beneath his boots, then tosses the rope down to Iskandar.

"I don't think this tree will hold much for long," he remarks idly.

[towards_okeanos]

Iskandar chuckles. He ties the end of the rope to the exposed pole at the very bottom, a sad reminder of how the now ruined section was supposed to be reinforced.

"It doesn't need to hold a bear nor an elephant, only me," he yells back as he starts his climb upward.

It's not an easy route with slippery mud threatening to send him down on every step. That's why he needed that rope.

"I'm no engineer but I'd wager they would have stood a chance if this was only rain," he declares while he's finally on Berserker's level. "That little moat they built around would need to be sturdier to handle all the mud and debris.

Iskandar scratches his chin. He has an idea but it requires at least two people to work. The day is young though and hopefully the Wilders here could borrow them some sharp axes.

"Say, Ciaran, are you up for a little trip a bit deeper into the forest? I'm looking for something slightly bigger then those matchsticks that grow on the very edge."

[curruid_coinchenn]

He almost makes a quip about how Iskandar is the size of a bear, but he bites his tongue. The tree makes a worrying creak, to which Berserker takes a step back -- just in case.

"I'm here for a reason, aren't I?" Probably not gathering wood, judging by the spear worn across his back. "Let's go get it done so I can stop being covered in mud."

[towards_okeanos]

It's a sturdy little tree. It creaks, yes, but doesn't break. Iskandar has chosen that particular one for a reason.

"Well, I cannot promise the forest will be free of mud." Though it is quite likely in his opinion. It certainly looks as if all the mud from the nearest area was currently deposited inside the outpost's walls. "But we might find some game if we're lucky. Let me fetch my things and I'll be right back."

Going shirtless and unarmed would be stupid even for his level of recklessness. When he is back however, Iskandar wears his usual set of armour, enhanced with painted runes for additional protection against cwyld, and swings a pair of axes.

"Let's go then."

[curruid_coinchenn]

Game would be good, he could bring the carcasses back for Diarmuid. A thought for later, though -- that's secondary to what he's being recruited for.

"Less mud is all I'm asking," he says as he follows after him.

Berserker holds his hand out expectantly for one of the axes as he follows after. A dragon's strength is good for something, hopefully the tool would hold up beneath it.

a cult classic.

[tryhard]

It gets dark early in winter. Already, the sky is pitch-black above, most of the moons' light hidden by thick clouds that threaten rain or snow, and in the freezing cold, even the magitech streetlamps look wan and washed out up above.

Since news of the disappearances has spread, Waver has been more careful than ever-- and Iskandar even more so. It's gotten to the point where it's almost annoying, his Bonded barely letting him out of his sight and always making sure he's not alone outside, and rarely alone even in their home or at work. Still, occasionally frustrating as it is, Waver understands. He'd be lying if he said he hasn't been nervous for some days now, with the paper featuring new stories on missing individuals constantly.

But Waver refuses to live in the grip of that fear. He can be careful, take extra precautions, but he must be rational. The days still pass. He hears of the cult -- Inkchanted has received several pamphlets -- and of the state of some recovered victims, of the Coven and other authorities scrambling to contain Cwyld outbreaks within the city; even if Waver stays away from directly interacting with the cult, it isn't difficult to put these occurrences together. There just isn't much he feels that he can actually do, choosing to focus on keeping himself, his home and his business safe as he can, and keeping tabs on the news in case the situation changes.

It was never his intention to get directly involved. But sometimes, one doesn't have the luxury of choice.

The Harbor is not a very well-lit area. Lanterns twinkle off the docked ships, and various shops have lights on their stoops, but it's not like the wealthier areas with neat cobblestone streets and tall magic-powered lampposts lining every walkway. He smells it before he sees it, before the salted breeze carries the sounds of struggle to his suddenly pricked ears.

The scent of decay. The tell-tale, sickly-sticky smell of Cwyld tinged with rot and mulch.

He only meant to go to the pub next door after work to wait for Iskandar to pick him up there instead of at Inkchanted. It isn't far at all. And Iskandar should be here any moment.

Waver hesitates, ears turning toward the muffled sounds, brows furrowing as he squints in the darkness to make out the shapes down the street, all clad in black so even his Turnskin eyes have trouble seeing details. But he doesn't need to see much more than this to realize what's happening.

Two black-robed figures are dragging off another between them, the latter's legs kicking in obvious struggle. They're heading for the docks, away from the light of the pub behind him.

Waver swears under his breath, trying to gauge whether he has time to run inside and get someone else to help. His heart is pounding in his ears, a heavy, unsteady drumbeat. His mouth feels dry. No, there's no time, no time before he loses the shapes in the dark.

"Hey!" Waver shouts as loud as he can, lurching forward into a sprint with a rush of adrenaline like lightning in his veins. His breath fogs as he runs, gusting in front of him.

"Hey, you assholes! Over here!"

No, Waver has no intention of rushing in to fight them. He only needs to get closer, for his voice to carry, to draw attention exactly where he needs it.

He lifts his tattooed arm up, releasing one of the enchantments he carries on his skin, and an arc of fire bursts into the sky above like a bright orange flare, lighting up the street for a brief moment.

Re: a cult classic.

[towards_okeanos]

People disappear from the Outer city all the time for more or less sinister reasons but the current bout has made Iskandar more wary than usual. He's been on edge more then ever. It feels odd right until he remembers. It's been a year. A year from the horror, a whole year... only a year and yet it feels longer. Like a century at least. They're more settled now, more prepared but still, he can't stop looking over his shoulder, can't shake the feeling something terrible may happen at any moment.

Iskandar knows he's probably driving Waver crazy with constant insistence on following him everywhere. Yet it is an effort to let him from his sight even for a moment in places he knows must be safe. Like Inkchanted. They've seen to this. Both him and Cú did everything humanly possible to make the shop a real, if well concealed, fortress. There are occasions when he can't stay with Waver there though. He can't just abandon people that count on him. With all the capable personnel occupied containing mysterious outbreaks in the city, there's even less left to offer help in the slums. Still, even if he's not there the whole day Iskandar always comes back to escort Waver home.

So he does this time. Only this time is different. This time he sees an arc of fire light up the quickly falling darkness. A very familiar arc of fire. It shines over the roofs like a flaming flowers. Iskandar curses and urges Bucephalus into full gallop, blood freezing in his veins.

Gods above, not again. Please, not again.

[tryhard]

The flare draws attention, as intended. Waver hopes it catches the eye of others around the docks, and if they take it as a warning that's fine too. Maybe some will run away, but others will come looking, out of curiosity or because they realize it might be a sign for help. Either way, the shadowy figures will have more trouble slipping away unnoticed in the dark.

The person they're carrying has stopped kicking, though. Unconscious? Worse?

Waver swears, looking around frantically as the taller of the two robed figures peels away from their stockier fellow, attention clearly now fixed on the Turnskin causing the commotion.

Iskandar should be on his way. They'd agreed on the time. The moon-shaped amulet tucked into his shirt against his breath has recently been re-enchanted to be absolutely sure the spell is fresh and functioning properly; Iskandar will be able to find him. All Waver has to do is stall.

"What the hell are you doing with that person?" he demands, loudly, trying to make his voice carry. It's difficult, out in the open, with the winds coming in from the sea. "Let them go!"

Unfortunately, with one figure now approaching him, the other has lifted their now-limp victim over one shoulder. Splitting up is the smart choice for them, and the worst one for the person Waver is trying to help.

"Stop!" Waver shouts again, darting to the side, trying to get around the figure coming closer at a steady but brisk walk. His fire can't reach that far, and he can't just watch the other one run off with their victim. If he can send up another flare in the direction they're going, if someone follows it and can cut them off--

The tall figure following him reaches into their robe, and Waver just barely sees out of the corner of his eye as something shiny catches in the sparse light, glinting in the darkness. A weapon? He doesn't stick around long enough to be able to tell, taking off toward the docks and sending up another flare in the direction of the victim. It's not that late, even if it's dark. There are people around. Someone has to see. They have to.

[towards_okeanos]

The sound of the hooves striking ground carries far through the fog, like a roar of advancing storm, Iskandar hurries guided by the unerring compass of the tracking spell. He charged and tuned it so many times, even completely remade it not long ago so it's closer now to an extra sense, not even conscious.

The streets in this part of the city are not lit and darkness falls quickly so he hears Waver's voice before he sees him. Second flare illuminates two silhouettes, one of them carrying a body but it's the second that draws his attention. In the bright flash of the flare Iskandar sees Waver fleeing deeper into the docks and the second figure in pursuit. There's still a lot distance to cover, he might not be able to intercept the attacker in time.

Time slows, Iskandar drops the reins, draws his sword and slashes the air chanting incantation. Lightning flows through the metal, tearing a blazing arc through the air and hitting the ground right in front the attacker with a loud crack. All damage it does is to singe a few stones but it also makes him stop, loose precious seconds. Seconds are all Iskandar needs to reach a position where massive body of Bucephalus shields Waver from danger.

"Stop right there, scum!" he bellows charging another lightning shot.

The dark figure hesitates sensing the balance of power shifts to his disadvantage with Iskandar's arrival. Iskandar risks a glance over his shoulder trying to locate Waver in the darkness. Is he hurt?

[tryhard]

With the wind whipping his hair and carrying only the scent of the ocean, Waver hears the pounding of horse hooves even before he smells Bucephalus, but there's no doubt in his mind. Through the rush of adrenaline, fear and anger, there's a spark of relief. Right on time, backup has arrived.

The darkness erupts again in a flash of blinding white light from Iskandar's spell, from which Waver falls back as soon as he recognizes the pattern and shields his eyes faster than his pursuer, who seems temporarily stunned and blinded in the complete darkness after such a bright light. The large form of Bucephalus suddenly rushes in between them in the distraction, blocking his pursuer from Waver-- but also blocking Waver's view of the other black-robed figure making away with the victim.

"Rider! Stop that one!"

He gestures, frantically. Not hurt, just worried.

New Moons Mishaps (12 Ieneuer) Inkchanted edition

[futhark]

The entire day turns out to be like this.

By the time Iskandar reaches Inkchanted, he will find the sign "closed" with a scribbled-on "we're experiencing arcane issues" askew on the door, and smoke coming out of the window. People are giving the shop a wide-berth and should anyone pass it close enough to just brush against wards reach a painfully high-pitched alarm starts to wail.

Caster jumps out of the door, throwing around the stones with carved spells that silence the alarm. He doesn't look like he's having a good day. Hair is wild, and tattoo-like marks light upon his skin and disappear. The light show is not on purpose, not at all. He faces Iskandar with a blank stare.

"Hey" the greeting comes off as flat— less that it lacks excitement, more like there is barely any energy and patience left in this man. "Shit's been rough—"

Aaaand no, he is not going to follow it up with 'but I got it under control'

bwahahaha....

[towards_okeanos]

To say Iskandar was unprepared for the sight - even less for the sound - is to say nothing at all.

"No kidding..." He shakes his head trying to loose the ringing in his ears after that hellish screech. "What the hell have happened here?"

His day is far from perfect either. Evidence to that fact being that he came on foot and not on horseback as usual. But he is more used to his own spells misfiring. Caster having magic troubles is an oddity.

[futhark]

"I wish I knew—" While ha hasn't yet paid attention to the moon phase, there are at least several other things that are a culprit. "Okay, I might have a hunch..."

Cú stares at the shop with a blank expression, as sparks start coming out from one of the stones that makes a makeshift, silencing barrier. His face becomes tired almost immediately upon noticing that.

"Hey... Do you know what is a difference between using stones and crystals or gems for enchantments?" He asks suddenly, seemingly out of blue.

[towards_okeanos]

Iskandar hasn't paid attention to moon phases besides tracking the full moons for obvious reasons. New moons weren't a problem for him before. But then he's rather used to botching a spell here and there so who knows... maybe they were, he just hasn't realised it.

He does notice the sparks though. Ooops... He's just about to point this out when Cú shoots him a question that makes Iskandar pause and stare at the Celt as if he grew an extra pair of limbs.

"Not the slightest idea," he mutters when he finally shakes of the utter shock of getting asked a question in magic theory by Caster of all people.

[futhark]

The sparks are followed by a loud crackle, and the stone breaks apart, it's tiny fragments shooting in all directions. That causes the barrier blocking sound to break... and yes, the alarm is still wailing. Loudly.

Caster pinches the bridge of his nose as if to hold down his frustration. It's... third it happened today? The third time he nearly got deaf. The third time he struggled to turn the damn thing off. It doesn't take long for him to collect himself, which is followed by a gesture for Iskandar to follow him. They can power through... direction? The shop itself. He stops to put his hand on the door frame. One of the ways to turn off the alarm, is to confirm their identity via touch and recite a lengthy abjuration spell. They're both Witches attuned to this security system, so it shouldn't matter who does it.

But maybe if they're both working on it, they can finally turn it off. Caster alone is not succeeding in that attempt.