☆ Event: A Tale of Two Cities

[faileas]

Event Log: September, A Tale of Two Cities

I. THE TRIP OUT On Septeril 5th, those who've agreed to go as dignitaries to Dorchacht will meet with Nerissa Bell in the Coven's foyer. Given the group is a little large, and the boat they've procured for the voyage would be a little crowded with all of them on it, she suggests there be two groups: the first one will go now and will return around the middle of the month, while the second will depart a few days after the first group returns, just to give them some breathing room. a. DIGNITARY: THE SHIP Those joining Nessie are led to the docks, where an old ship is being scrapped down, barnacles removed and hull shined to perfection. Sailors call to and fro from on board, buckets of water thrown off the side away from the docks and there's a tingle of nervous excitement from the gathering crowds come to wish the dignitaries and ambassadors a bon voyage. She's of a medium size, able to hold her crew and half of the assigned dignitaries with little trouble, and from top to bottom the moose-like Faun of a captain calls her a seaborn miracle; short of a sea wyrm, she's never faltered nor fled the waves, but he'll admit that she's been more a fishing boat than anything the past couple years. Judging from the way his tuffed tail lashes in excitement, he's thrilled to be out on a real voyage again -- even if it's to those notoriously unfriendly blokes 'round the corner of the map, haven't been in decades time and they've always been up their own arses about this and that. While dignitaries are supposed to relax the best they can on the four day trip, the captain doesn't seem to mind offering work to those interested in learning the way of the sea or with the know-how already, eagerly asking the Mirrorbound about their experiences beyond the glass... much more than he is about talking about himself outside of his ship, who he loves a great deal and sings the praises of up and down the hour, through sea shanty and spoken word. His large antlers don't seem to get in the way of his work nor bar him from getting in and out his quarters, but watch out! They are large and they do hurt. All's not well going to and from Dorchacht, though, as while the waters are safer than the land by far, there's plenty of dangers within the deep: Infected Merrow swim in the shallows, singing sweetly from rocks that jut out at the shore, and some more adventurous ones try their luck closer to the boat too. The captain's Navigator, a Witch with just as rowdy an attitude if more polite a tone, can manage a deafening spell on the ship to keep any from falling seaward, but asks that those who can to rid the ship of those terrible pests, whether by cannon, magic, or something else similarly ranged. Oh, it'd be perfectly alright if they killed them, plenty of them out here in the sea and growing ever more, but if they simply want to scare them off then by all means! There's also all manner of sea beasts as well, from krakens on the smaller side to the mentioned sea wyrms earlier, though the captain'll say that they're just babies compared to the mother he'd faced last year -- still troublesome little bastards, best put down before they're drowned themselves, but nothing to turn tail at. Outside of these... troubles... there's disorderly sailors of Monster and Witch alike, the former being compromised primarily of Turnskin and Faun for heavy lifting, with a Harpy in the crow's nest to help with speed, and the latter being those specializing in Divination and Astrology for directions, as well as some elemental manipulation from the Evocation course. Unlike the proper Coven trained, they seem like they're a little more unconventional with their magics, using "shortcuts" and combining spells to great effect. When they're not on the clock as it were they enjoy a great deal of ale, howling stories and song, pushing each other around whilst the journey's bright and startlingly serious when things turn south. Be careful you don't get in a fight, or perhaps you'd like to show your stuff in a little competition: They're willing to do anything to pass the time. b. ESPIONAGE: THE DEVICE Upon hearing that there are some who would be interested in investigating the device that Mhairi mentioned, a young Witch opens up the room it's being stored in now to allow them a chance to check it out. They warn that it isn't particularly cooperative, but maybe those with some knowledge of magitech - or their world's equivalent - might be able to help? While not exactly the largest device around, it's one that stands out. Something resembling a Tesla coil stands atop the piece of tech, tall enough to almost reach the ceiling of the rather tall room, and various dials and knobs and gauges adorn the outside of it. Those who are perceptive to magic - training in detection spells, or who have a good sense for it, or even a sixth sense for something poised to happen - will be able to note that there's a sort of... presence in the room. It continues to build up, the more people that come in to investigate. Anyone that tinkers with it, has active magitech on their person, or even uses magic in it, only help to build the sensation. And then, when enough Mirrorbound of both the Witch and Monster persuasion are in the room - A whirring noise fills the room, as the device comes to life. There isn't any time to vacate the room, because whether it was an intentional thing to activate the teleporter or not, it's activated. The intention of using it for travel to Dorchacht remains embedded in it, and from one moment to the next, the group in the room find themselves not in the Coven, but in the midst of trees. All around you is the forest just beneath the cliffs outside of Dorchacht. In the distance, if one looks hard enough, they might be able to spot the Black City itself. Besides the storage room of the Coven vanishing in a flash of light and electricity, the device is absent, too. Some of its smaller parts can be found scattered in the craggy grass at your feet, in the roots of trees, as if it completely fell apart the moment that the magic was activated. Whatever you had on your person, when you left? It's all that you have, now. And there's no way back from here. (Notes: Some small reminders - the boats take 2 days to reach Dorchacht, meaning they take 2 days to come back as well, and the teleportation device used by the espionage team is a one-time use only. The espionage team will be able to return to Aefenglom at the end of the month courtesy of some inside help, using a similar device that managed to bring them there in the first place. The Watches can be used on the ship, but are prone to static and dropping calls. Communication is possible from Dorchacht, though voice and video both feel a little muffled.)

II. DORCHACHT It's déjà vu. While Aefenglom is known for its dusk-hued skies, made of lustrous pinks and purples and blues, this city is dreary to the core. The streets are covered in a perpetual fog, not unlike the city you hail from, but thicker, denser, tinged with the flavor of industrial smog from the factories whose spires you can see in the distance. Magitech lights - lanterns above doors, street posts, flickering in the windows you pass - illuminate everything throughout the entire day, as if the sunshine can't reach through the foreboding fog nor the onyx walls. Even the windows are barred, offering a paranoid protection against the outside world. Doors seem hardier, and each building is reinforced and protected in a way that may feel familiar to those that have encountered the protective magic wards. They're heavier, leaving an almost ominous presence that causes unease to hang just as heavy in the air as the smog. The people of this city are just as dreary as the streets, though they do mill about with the same frequency as any city. Those from Aefenglom may recognize familiar faces, and they might find themselves looking twice at you, as if some part of them remembers you as well. Something seems... off, however. There are fewer Monsters in the streets than there were in the dream, though it isn't too hard to catch a glimpse of one here and there. The streets even seem a little more cleaned up than they once were, as one makes their way down them. At the heart of the city, dignitaries will be brought to the Coven. There, they're greeted by a slender and elegant woman, eyes bright and clever, but just as sharp as the red-lined smile that she offers her visitors. "Nerissa Bell," she begins, tone polite if clipped. There's the sense of a woman who won't waste words from her person, and she turns her eyes towards the dignitaries. "You must be the charges she spoke of. Mirrorbound, they call you?" A shallow inclination of her head, barely called respectful, as she smiles wider, in a way that would be kind if knives were made to be dull. "A pleasure. I am Morgana Drummond, head of the Coven here, and I welcome you to my city of Dorchacht, the safest haven against the Cwyld across all of our poor Geardagas." a. THE COVEN Morgana Drummond gives them a quick tour of their facilities, speaking lightly of the curriculum they have here that differs from Aefenglom's own (more of a focus in manipulation spells, be it the sort of commands that have become such a familiar sight to things such as perception and "paths" that can be seen through scrying, the other areas of practice more of "extra" than essentials) as well as allowing them to peek in on some lessons taking place. They won't be able to interact, but it is admittedly of a higher feel than what Aefenglom asks, though it's simply the seriousness of the atmosphere giving that impression. After showing them to where they'll be staying within the Coven's hospitality as well as mentioning the areas of their infirmary, library, and welcoming the Witches to try a hand at their lessons, she and Nerissa part from the characters as a whole to discuss the business of the month. There is a notable increase in guards, both around Morgana's person even within the Coven's walls, as well as the building itself. They seem to be in the business of keeping people on a kind of "railroaded" layout of the Coven building, but can be distracted for a quick peek -- the real help comes from those with triple stars hidden in plain sight, beneath the brims of hats and worn as idly jewelry and easily missed charms. These sympathizers will actively seek those out to speak with them, to let them know that even here there are those that would like to see change brought to Dorchacht, and assist in entering places that Mirrorbound otherwise would not be able to enter. Such as the library here, which contain higher level spells including the enchantments specific to the city walls. The history is just as muddled as it is in the later mentioned public library, the "when"s being vague and the like, but depicts Drummond's rise as the head of the Coven: She came to Dorchacht on a ship hailing from Aefenglom along with a number of other Witches and rose above the rest to become the esteemed leader she is now. Without her, many of the text will agree, Dorchacht would not be as it is now. Those with any notable signs of infection may be asked to step aside and allow Dorchacht's Witches to give them a check up -- better safe than sorry -- and this goes for Witches and Monsters alike. They'll be brought to the double doors that were so heavily secure within the dream, whether they'd like to be or not, and escorted inside. b. THE CITY Unlike the dream, things seem to be more... well-behaved. Auctions have been moved from the pavilion and in its place are genuine vendors to purchase from: Food, clothing, toys, trinkets, protective spell scrolls, all manners of things. There's still Monsters around, a little more tidy than before, but they hold the same stares they had in the dream, pinched expression and disinterested in conversation. There are signs that lead way to auctions if one is truly curious to see the extent of that terror, to gain insight on the situation there, but tailing someone might be hard within the twisting turns of the new bazaar. Another notable part of the city that can be accessed by those dealing in espionage include the barracks if they pose as hopefuls to join their ranks as handlers for their Monsters, which are collared in a familiar way to the dream, and seem reactionary to quick movements -- they're explained to be the essential frontline of what constitutes as a military force, very important, Mirrorbound Monsters beware you not suffer the same fate. The next place one might seek out is the library: While this is all deemed public knowledge, it offers insight into the kind of history and mindset that's been bred the past decade at minimum. Books regarding the dangers of Monsters, how to care and train them, practical spellbooks for those untrained by the Coven proper... The history books themselves are vague in regards to the "when" of things, and seem to be more contemporary in comparison to how old the city feels itself. There's a variety of more cultural knowledge such a cookbooks (including those dealing with monster parts) and floriography (more dour meanings compared to Aefenglom's flurous), but the relevant ones have been noted thusly. c. THE RESISTANCE Whether you're espionage or dignitary, those seeking the Resistance know what to look for: a trio of stars (some worn more openly than others), protests against the city's treatment of Monsters, and dispelling runes on the walls. Once proven that you're friend over foe, they're more than happy to have the assistance of any Mirrorbound in their company: A fight against the current practices is a fight they're for, after all. Riot! Disrupt the peace! The auctions, while a little more downplayed than in the dream, are still going, and the Resistance has good word on where they're being held in the grand city. Their goal? To cause a disturbance big enough to distract, but not big enough to catch Drummond's eye... that said, with her having to play the nice host to Aefenglom's associates within the main building, there's more to get away with. Free the Monsters! Whilst distracted, other members of the Resistance plan to dispel the runes in certain areas and smuggle off what Monsters they can, valuing quantity over quality. While the more mind-broken may resist heavily, it won't be hard to find Monsters of all kinds (save Dragons and Fae, which are notably absent from the auctions and city in general) accepting help to escape, eager to think for themselves once more. Find a way for them to escape the city safely, but know that the docks are heavily guarded in case of stowaways. Free the city! Kind of. A third party of Resistance members are looking to weaken the enchantment on the wall of Dorchacht itself, meaning they'll be looking for those brave enough to tread outside the city and into the Wilde just beyond its protective gates to take a look at and inscribe runes to hopefully diminish the compulsion in place right now. It won't be immediate, but it'll help in the future... just be careful, there's plenty of danger beyond the wall to contend with. As an interesting note, while the Resistances' bonded pairs are definitely unlike Dorchacht's compulsion-based ones, they're not exactly like Aefenglom's either: They call themselves comrades and partners, brothers/sisters in arms, giving it more of an equality forged from the same brass than something to do with convenience. (Notes: Those being willing, or unwilling, participants in the check-ups may reply to the top level there with how visibly infected they are for a special treat! Only for this month.)

III. AEFENGLOM Preparations for Meán Fómhair begin before Nerissa and the dignitaries head off on the 5th, but they seem a little quick even for the ever-festive people of Aefenglom: Apples begin the appear in great quantities to be used for later, some yellowed versus the red ripeness one thinks of when they're ready, there's hay bales tucked safely away for the days of, and there's little conversation to be made save for how things might be going in Dorchacht, though if any of the Mirrorbound try to join in they'll change the subject to Meán Fómhair in a split second, smiles thrown wider than the weeks before. Seems all is not quite as well as they'd like to appear. a. MARKET UP With the Parliament tense and looking westward, there starts to be gradual, but steady, increases in new appearances from some interesting individuals about the city. At face value they're no different than the vendors already found in great quantities, human and Monster alike, but one look at their wares proves different. The goblin market, as it's familiarly called, is somewhat accepted by the Parliament as something allowed to exist as part of their mercantile culture with Coven-approved medicines, alchemical practices, enchantments, so on and so forth, and only somewhat thanks to these known wares. Beneath these, with a dropped word or a curious eye, one can find things that are more than likely not sanctioned by either branch, things the vendors say can sate Monster and Witch alike without need of a Bond, though they decline to include the fact that such things are only temporary and that, like all hits, they'll need to come back for a greater quantity to get the satisfaction they need. Overpriced as they are (due to their private nature, it's high risk, surely they understand), they sell Monster parts of most kinds, Witch's Blood that may or may not be genuine, and what they call "extra strength" potions to mimic the feeling of a temporary bond without needing a second person to partake -- of course, you're welcome to share it, the more the merrier. However, this market hides a darker side, known more to those living among the aristocracy or who have the money and means to it, and characters are more likely to find themselves led there one way or another -- be it kidnapped or tricked, the black market isn't picky about how they drag their targets in. While Aefenglom prides itself in its fairness and equality, as in example with the goblin market not all is what it promises. Nowhere else is this more true than with the black market itself, using techniques familiar in Dorchacht to control their living wares, emboldened by the absence and turned heads of the government while remaining as discreet as they can be, they've ascended from the tunnels beneath Aefenglom to turn old houses into private auctions and the more deserted streets into bazaar-like adventures. Not all of these are unwilling wares, characters may find, and drawn by necessity for their own well-being or for their family's, but it's clear that a greater number are those from the Outer City. b. PROPAVANDALS Unbeknownst to Aefenglom's higher ups, Dorchacht has sympathizers of its own within this city's walls. While Bonds haven't been specifically dissuaded against, given that there's alternatives to the more permanent tethers, not all are in favor of changing completely. It's been ten years since Miss Bell gained her seating, such citizens'll say, and there's been decades prior where they hadn't needed that. That Monsterkind and Witches could be, and sometimes were better off, apart. Home remedies and extra practice, or finding a substitute, was all that was needed. More privately and growing in whispered popularity, that there ought to be more restrictions on the two in general. Once these words have started, both conversations planted as well as encouraged for thoughts already leaning a certain way, small attacks on those Bonded being to occur. They target the main populace and those with connections to the Coven itself, especially the Mirrorbound given Nerissa's alleged responsibility to them, and it seems they're well-practiced in hiding their activities because all investigations done towards the perpetrators, whether done by the Mirrorbound or officials themselves, will lead to only dead-ends outside the City. The culprits are hard to catch on foot, using the environment they'd grown up with to their advantage in escaping any manner of way -- it isn't just humans, but Monsters causing trouble as well -- but it isn't impossible... Just that they refuse anything but their right of silence on the accusations, claiming they'd had no part in anything, regardless of what proof might be found. The attacks and vandalism itself range from harmful messages appearing with magic on walls and doors, vaguely threatening letters written in ink that evaporates in sunlight, to fruit thrown and possessions left in tatters after breaking and entering. They don't stop at residential houses either, aiming for businesses held by those with any connection to the Coven, held by those with Bonds, and seek to cause any number of annoyance and distaste to those they attack. If it weren't for their Bonds, their Coven connections, they wouldn't be treated this way. That's the message they seek to send. c. UNEASY FESTIVITIES Come Septeril 21st, and lasting til the 23rd, Meán Fómhair is tentatively in full swing. The residents of Aefenglom are more on edge than during previous festivals save the red-hued Lithia, even once the first dignitary group has returned and the second left. There's barrels of apples decorating the street corners, but they don't seem as plentiful as they should. The games have a forced cheerfulness about them too, the unaffected being children who gleefully take part in each race, each competition, as well as the doctors with their cure-alls and promises of something to promote the harvest's delight, peddling medicine and medical advice to all who lend an ear with earnest grins and a profit to be made. The medicines are largely placebos with some possible side-effects for those that aren't, such as voice changes and intense cravings for various foods, but they seem to be very popular this year -- there's at least a couple merchants talking up the good fortune Dorchacht's stress has brought this year to one another, quieting down when they catch outsiders eavesdropping. With the continued attacks on those Bonded and Coven-affiliated, with one of their Speakers across the continent and the other sorely wrapped in Parlimentary business dealing with the attacks, the city holds its breath and tries to endure. Tries to be bright and cheerful while keeping obvious supplies behind their counters, to keep fright from their expressions and mind lest it invite the Cwyld to their midst, and ultimately drawing apart from one another in a time where unity is more than needed: Time will tell what actions might sew shut the new wound struck across Aefenglom.

Welcome to September's event log! The questions thread is split into two this time: one for Dorchacht, which can be found HERE, and one for Aefenglom, which can be found HERE. Please keep questions to their respective cities! This'll help both us and your fellow players in sorting information. Additionally, this event is a little special - we've prepare an OOC post to go along with it. Check it out over HERE - don't forget about it, as it'll help us see how things'll progress in the cities!

Comments

[bloodwit]

[ ok yeah no he didn't. viren sighs. ]

Just a favor to a Witch as I attempt to work my way into their good graces, perhaps to learn more about those with more power. I've been reduced to an errand boy, for the time-being.

[ doing a favor for some contact is different from being an errand boy, but whatever. viren's posture relaxes, now more languid as his uncertainty surfaces. ]

I... am not sure. Something like that had happened earlier, with the recognition, but it was someone that I'd more likely encountered... during that dream, I suppose.

[rollfordiplomacy]

I presumed it was some lingering recognition from time in the dream, myself. Lucky for you, I could think up a cover story on the fly. [some laughter catches him again, nudging the man with an elbow]

How does it feel to be the new leading man of Dorchacht? I nearly said you were an opera singer, but I couldn't remember the male equivalent to a prima donna! You don't have the sort of voice to sing soprano. [though that is amusing to imagine]

[bloodwit]

[ viren is... not precisely sure how to handle this camraderie. usually, it's pretty easy to brush off from strangers with a glare and a scoff; that, and his inferiors wouldn't dare such a manuever. ... so while it's uncommon, perhaps it's not wholly unwelcome. ]

[ so, naturally, he G R O A N S. ]

Like it'd be a terrible career for a part-time spy. Thankfully untrue, and I think he was a bit distracted by the whole... absurdity of it.

[ like. everything. there may have been a tiny smile, but it's blink-and-you've-missed-it. ]

I won't thank you [ heaven forbid! ], but I will acknowledge it'd been .. effective.

[rollfordiplomacy]

I promise, he'll have forgotten any recognition of your voice, my lord. As I intended, all he'll be gossiping over after that exchange is... well. [oh god, there's that smooth little wink again]

I shouldn't say.

[more cheerfully and just really self satisfied, because clearly this all went great]

Are we getting that drink? It would be my treat, you seem tense. [what ever could be the cause of that, eh, Everett?]

[bloodwit]

[ ... he's almost impressed with the shamelessness of that little number. goodness.

at the question, viren takes a moment to adjust the cuffs of his coat from where they may have been jostled, lifts his chin into the air. ]

I don't think so. I still have a job to finish here; drinking would be irresponsible. [ an eyebrow raises. ] Besides, the drinks are probably as miserable as the rest of the city.

[rollfordiplomacy]

[Viren... if he was really looking to be shameless, he'd have said, and in excruciating detail. Luckily, Everett has some tact and leaves it only to innuendo.]

The drinks are fine enough, old boy. [Everett had been sharing a few drinks about Dorchacht, as apart of his diplomatic investigations. People get looser with information when charmed and a little tipsy.

That's not really what he intends with his offer to Viren, though...]

It's an excuse to collect yourself. A single round of mead isn't going to send you stumbling into the streets, is it? [are you a lightweight, Viren? Is that it? Now that would be embarrassing...]

[bloodwit]

It won't.

[ that-- would be very, very embarrassing, yes.

viren dislikes having to collect himself. inefficient. he weighs this over several moments, gaze turned toward the ground. and then, with a sigh, his hands falling more loosely at his sides, ]


Fine. [..] I will accompany you. But, mostly because I haven't been to any bar yet, and there may yet be something interesting there to discover. [ patrons' gossip, or whatnot. ]

[rollfordiplomacy]

That's the spirit, old boy. You strike me as the sort who works himself to the brink. In need of someone to pull you back, I just feel it. [Everett's fine being that kind of friend, namely because it's a good exercise, to be the one heeding restraint. He found himself pushing limits all too often, after all. Nice to put himself on the other side, from time to time.

He'll shuffle them towards a bar he'd yet to visit, but had been eyeing. As they're about to enter, he wordlessly points out an etching on the entryway handle. A subtle three star emblem. Everett had been keeping his eye out from the sign of sympathizers. After making note of that, he opens the door for the other man, following him into the space]

[bloodwit]

[ viren won't admit to that, but yes: the inference is spot-on, and he knows it, too. ]

... This is to be productive, Everett.

[ is his an attempt of a proclamation of the purpose of this little excursion, but that will be the last of his protests and insistences as he allows the other man to lead the way. he's quiet the rest of the way, wary of their changing surroundings and any unnecessarily lingering eyes.

the three stars. hm. there's a quick glance to his companion at that, giving him a nod. that could be - worthwhile. viren enters, as bid; he selects a chair at the bar, in an area that would allow them for some privacy should they need to talk in a hushed tone, but not so isolated that they can't overhear others at their speaking volume. once seated, he neatens out his coat, looking to everett with an incredulous raise of an eyebrow, ]

You implied the mead... wasn't terrible, then?

[rollfordiplomacy]

Pretty good, even! A round. [he'll flag the bartender with the order as he sits close beside Viren so they can speak confidentially. Reaching into his own coat, he pulls out three distinct objects. A healthy amount of coin to pay upfront is first, knowing that will get them left be after they're brought their drinks. After that is a journal and a cigarette case. He pushes the former to Viren, and the first thing the man will notice is Everett's handwriting is immaculate.

The cigarette case he opens next, offering first to the bartender when the drinks are delivered, then to Viren after, though he doesn't insist the man take one. He's last, plucking one of the hand rolled cigarettes out and striking a match. Raising his own tobacco was one of his wiser choices. When the barkeep retreats, leaving them their privacy, Everett explains the journal]

Transcripts on the diplomatic meetings so far, along with research notes taken from various tomes in the library. [There's some coded language in parts, Everett certain to keep nothing incriminating written in exact terms.]

[bloodwit]

[ viren tentatively plucks one of the cigarettes from the case; he gives it a scrutinizing look, then to glance at everett with an unspoken. what's in this? he's not entirely unfamiliar with them, but he knows how much necessarily escape him about other worlds.

he likewise won't admit to how impressed, here -- but that's readable all over his face. legible handwriting? complete transcripts? thorough notes? expression losing its typical harshness, his eyes widen as he opens the journal. he tends to have high expectations for other, yet simultaneously expects to be disappointed.

no such thing, here. ]

This is all quite... well-put together.

[ he leafs through some of the pages, eyes scanning quickly over contents. as he does so, inquiring, ]

And... how do you feel the diplomatic meetings are coming along?

[rollfordiplomacy]

Tobacco, from my garden. [he lights the cigarette for him, shaking out the flame after. When he sees Viren's eyes widen to look over his notes, it gives him a nice rush of validation, glad it's impressive.]

A Springtide is always tidy, my lord. [He even has a glossary for a personal journal, he's that well organized. The first portion is his transcriptions, complete with notations about demeanor and tone, seeing those as important in such meetings. The latter portion is notes on the library, complete with sources for each book he took notes from, so he could reference back later if necessary.]

In my honest opinion, the meetings are... fluff. We don't make much headway on any real issues. We're being treated more like tourists than political advisers.

[bloodwit]

... Disappointing. [ presumably, anyway. if remaining at a standstill kept the peace, then so be it. his tone doesn't come without a scoff to it. ] So the dignitaries have been dragged here to -- essentially, mark the difference between that dream and this... conveniently cleaner reality.

[ because, yes, it hadn't been difficult to tell what's been staged recently. he's sure his companion's picked up on that. viren eyes the burning tip of the cigarette a moment, considering it, before taking a light drag. ... it's not bad, rather at all. ]

[ he resists sighing for the umpteenth time, instead opting for a slow exhale of smoke. keeping his voice appropriate low, ]

But they've done such a slipshod job of masking it, I do wonder what the actual purpose is to being here.

[rollfordiplomacy]

I've wondered that myself. It might be a risky play to keep up appearances with our branch of the Coven. Faith in authority is easy to crack, many of the population already sympathizing with those their leader oppresses. Many upon her side, the streets brimming with positive word of mouth... [he trails off, mind turning a moment. It's so difficult to know what he may be overthinking, but a dead end is just another route to understand, isn't it? And if it wasn't a dead end, any leads they get might be useful in dismantling the hypocrisy of this place.]

Make me suspicious that monsters aren't the only ones feeling compelled to agree with such orders.

[bloodwit]

Certainly a reasonably suspicion.

[ which is to say -- he agrees with that misgiving. lowering the book out of some reactive distrust, the bartender returns with their drinks. the bartender doesn't linger long, instead attending to some other patron. viren doesn't yet drink, instead tapping out the cigarette on the side of an ashtray. ]

[ then, gently setting the little book down -- he brings up a hand, still gloved in leather, to massage at the space between his eyes. ]

I know our priorities... differ, slightly. [ they did have that slightly tense conversation back when the ms. nessie had made her announcement of this entire sorry affair. tense on viren's side, anyway. regardless, he pushes forth: ] But-- why? Why that dream in the first place?

[ he doesn't know if he's missing something here. perhaps all of his speculation is pointless. perhaps the writing is on the walls. perhaps there wasn't a purpose to it at all, but viren's purpose here is opertaing under the assumption that something here would lead to his return home. ]

If it has to do with her dreamsharing, Morgana Drummond dos not seem the type to make mistakes.

[rollfordiplomacy]

Do you believe she is the source of all the dreams we have had? Or just the view of Dorchacht? I had not considered that possibility. [having been through two of the dreams, they had seemed unrelated at their core. One of the Cwyld and one of the horrors in Dorchacht. Then again, the dreaming wasn't something Everett looked into, nor understood well in the slightest. A blind spot, perhaps, while he was off chasing silly leads like recipe books.]

Her motivations are certainly to be questioned, through and through. She has such control of this place, far more than Aefenglom appears controlled by their branch of the Coven. [he's speaking more quietly knowing that even with sympathizers marking the doorway to this place, there is no reason to yell out treasonous intent in public]

Discovering the source of the command spell is my highest priority. Perhaps even dismantling it, if at all possible.

[bloodwit]

I'm... sure it is.

[ you freedom fighter you, everett. his eyebrows knit together, a look of consternation, gloved fingertips tapping gently against the spine of the man's book. after a moment, he reaches for his drink. judging by the fact that he doesn't wrinkle his nose at the taste, one might surmise he doesn't dislike it. ]

[ he places the glass down again, with a slight clatter to it. ]

I don't think she's the source of all of them, no. Wouldn't that be perplexing, alerting us to the state of her own objectionable city.

[ pale gray eyes slide over from the pages of the book, then, to flit over everett. ]

I'm sure you have realized, by this point, that you are going to have to resort to more [ a pause, contemplating the word ] extreme means, to get anything done.

[rollfordiplomacy]

Don't look so worried, old boy! I don't mind taking my own risks, provided the reward is well worth. Know that I am not one to risk others well being.

[Everett lifts his mead and taps it to Viren's, a little gesture of 'cheers' before taking his own long sip. He makes a pleased noise, gesturing to the bartender in approval, before more quietly back to Viren]

If there is any bit the misstep, I will take the burden of responsibility, my lord. Whether that is a punishment or a reward, we shall discover. [another drag of his cigarette smiling around it, mood still enthused for what's to follow]

What do you plan to pursue, moving ahead?

[bloodwit]

I wasn't worri--

[ he cuts that off. he can irritably tsun (god that word is silly and cursed, sorry) make his case another time. the clink of the glass startles him, somehow, and he blinks. it takes him a moment to reorient himself to the question.

but, thus had been his typical lamenting tone when speaking of necessary evils. though genuinely he hadn't even thought of the safety of ... others. best keep that one to himself. ]

I plan on opposing extreme measures if they seem the type to spark war. That is my priority, after all, as I have made you aware.

[ his shoulders raise, just slightly. forced pacifism is still of an odd stance for him to take, the words strange on his tongue. ]

The situation seems -- calm enough, thus far. [ boy, is he in for a surprise in some days. ] If it should escalate, I hope people aren't complete fools about it. Morgana should remain alive.

[rollfordiplomacy]

I doubt very many have an inclination to assault her directly, let alone the power to face her. If anything is to happen, it will be an uprising within the citizenry and not from within the Coven itself. At least, that is my suspicion... there seems to be more rebellious spirit on the streets than sympathizers on high. [he hums around his cigarette, contemplating a moment, before his tone goes mildly teasing, adding some levity to the conversation]

... is that why you're playing errand boy, my lord? Keeping someone important calm and contented, so no trouble strikes up?

[bloodwit]

... Not quite. But if that comes of it, then so be it.

[ god that really did make it all sound-- so pathetic, despite the generally benign nature of everett's tone. pathetic. he internally flinches. what is he doing. torturing whoever necessary had crossed his mind, submitting to the ease of that and foregoing this nice affair.

he would have to see what came of his current situation. that may have to come later. ]

I would hope to earn trust; with that trust, perhaps they would reveal more of the situation. Because I do want.. any and all information relating as to how to return home. [ he WANTS TO GO HOOOOOOME ] Perhaps I have already shared with you: I have heard from another, a veteran of this land, that they believe subduing the Cwyld is key to our return. As far as Dorchacht citizens go, a few believe that the Fae are responsible for it.

[ clearly, we should all just stab the fae. ]

Meager as it is, it is a start.

[rollfordiplomacy]

The Mirrorbound being summoned here to combat the Cwyld does track, doesn't it? There merely seems to be so much land to cover, all where some such corruption could hide within any nook and cranny... Quite the task. [The Fae, though? He had not heard that, so it's wise information. He reaches to gesture for his notebook back, pulling ink and pen out to make eager account of that]

I have heard not of the Fae involvement. Then again, the Fae of this world are very different than I know them in mine. Myddvai's are more like the Naga of this realm. What would be their presumed part, in influencing the state of things?

[bloodwit]

Indeed.

[ almost a little too straightforward, viren thinks, but he resists over-complicating it with more speculation. at the gesture, he returns the book. —but, ohh. everett mentions creatures of his world and viren has to put a mental bookmark in that conversation piece, to ask of later. ]

[ his tone is skeptical, but he is telling something of a short story, so his words are appropriately, darkly weighted, ]

Legend says that the Fae coveted the secret to magic — apparently, it'd been selfishly guarded from humanity. But humans learnt of the secret, somehow, and began to use magic themselves. I'm sure they felt threatened by this; both jealous and angry, they cursed the lands, and thus the Cwyld arose.

[..]

Whether or not that's true... is unclear, but perhaps it's been inspired by some grain of truth.

[rollfordiplomacy]

Hmm. That is a tale. I should think to disbelieve it. I know not of the Fae, aside from their apparent elusiveness. However, believing that which you do not understand must be dangerous or must have worked against you... that is not very diplomatic, nor very kind. [Everett drags his cigarette, having picked up some curiosity in the man's expression when he mentioned his own world some. He enjoys to share wisdom from home, experiences he's had himself or parables.]

Creature were very want to make enemies of one another, in my land. This was within the First Age, long before my time, in a sense. [he won't get into what that means...]

The Elves and the Giants were most bitterly at war. Their empires nearly ruined the world for all. For just the same reason, fighting over who should control magic. When Myddvai was nearly torn asunder, our gods arrived to set the world back into order. They looked upon a war torn land and both sides claimed the other had struck first. That is was only justified that they warred so fiercely.

And the Dragons wrought punishment upon all sides, even those that did not intervene. Because it did not matter that it started... it mattered that it did not find end.

[bloodwit]

[ viren's once more struck again by just how different everett is from him; he's no stranger with clashing with other's beliefs (in fact, would do on the regular) but it's especially palpable with those words. i should think to believe it, viren keeps to himself as the other man begins a story. ]

[ and viren is appropriately enraptured by it - he loves this kind of shit, having turned slightly in his seat, and bringing a hand upwards to stroke at his beard as he listens. ]

[ ... it almost sounds familiar, in a way. viren swirls the mead in his glass, sparing everett a narrowed glance. he sips from it before speaking his mind, ]

How does one "control magic" in your world, that it cannot be shared? ... And, these Dragons. [ everett wouldn't be wrong to detect his tone acquiring some distaste. ] Do they think of themselves as gods, to punish all like that?