⭐️ Player Event Log: September, Little Dorchacht

[usurpers]

Player Event Log: September, Little Dorchacht

On the 21st of Septeril, the mirrorbound may see something glinting and chirping from the screens of their watches, to alert them of a message wherever they may be— The Black City’s Coven, the streets, even the sewers— a name stands just underneath written words of the device’s screen with a brief disclosure: The care centers are scapegoats to breed the city’s monster stock. The Resistance has a plan to put a dent in the system for good, so If you’re inclined for whatever reason, look for them. They’ll strike in four days and need volunteers. Any further questioning will be met with silence, or urging one to seek out those who have deemed themselves responsible, three stars dawned, excited and ready: La Resistance. Characters will be led to hideouts, sent messengers, notes and even encrypted talk under a simple guise of sympathizers in and around the Coven itself, if so much as desired to hear from them. The information is the same, wherever one hears from: “ In the "poorer" sections of the city, those less off and more exposed to various influence, there are sections dubbed as "care centers" for the lost. Some of these are true orphanages for those who've lost their parentage in some way, human only, but most are simply covers for the collection and breeding of Monsters for stock. It's been thought that by breeding "domesticated" pairs together, it'd elicit a stock that's more eager to obey without the use of magic, but so far that hasn't been the case. Like a long line of domestication, basically. They don't always keep the Monsters they breed -- many are studs offered from the Coven, who are masters among masters at keeping their Monsters heeled.” Many and all speculation is confirmed, and if you agree to help them in any way, shape or form, your informant can only grin as freely as they feel once they hear you say “yes”. —Well, hop to it! Depending on what roll you play, you have a strategy you need to follow, now. Either that, or . . . If you have your own plans, you’re welcomed to drum to your own beat. As long as you don’t interfere, says their leader rather dangerously. The Resistance, you’ll realize, would go very far for control over Dorchacht, with some individuals being very for the murder of Morgana Drummond. (It's on the table, but generally speaking they'd like it not to come to that -- there are worse things you can do to a Witch.) Their numbers aren't the highest, but it's safe to say that though they are a smaller part of Dorchacht's general public, the connections they have and where they have certain players do make them formidable in a sense. They would be able to pull through given help, and would more than welcome it. You have four days!

I. THE BOOM The night is dark on the 25th of Septeril, but the terrors lurk far more during the day. Dorchacht's air is heavy as ever, but so eerily silent amidst the calming lullabies played throughout the streets. It’s too late for anyone to be breaching the unspoken curfew, save for guards and the city’s army (widely known for keeping the peace, The Resistance would comment during briefing). Little by little, it grows darker. Lamp posts are broken, ambient magitech is dulled to shadows, and through them creep the silent steps of the war horses— the group The Resistance has tasked with creating vibrant and insufferable decoys. It doesn’t matter how it’s done, or how creative one would like to get. As long as you have the military’s attention, you’re doing a splendid job. Let it be known, though! Most veterans have taken a kindled liking to using fire to set the market and other strategic locations to flames. Tonight, we break the chains! Tomorrow, we set our city free!, they yell, boisterous and as lively as the blaze that gives Dorchacht a face that has never before been seen, or remembered: animated. It may be in the trojan horses greater interest to go along and keep them safe— not all of them know how to defend themselves from the eminent threats to come. Or maybe you have something else in mind, and desire to use the growing chaos to unfold other pieces to the puzzle the Black City hides.

II. THE CLATTER Tucked away into Dorchacht’s pockets of poverty are the human orphanages, locked, sound and asleep. Well— if the children haven’t heard the commotion yet, and you know children. Feisty little rugrats. The dark horses (and trojans) are tasked to enter these establishments under the facade of good samaritans, to usher the children and caretakers out from the (possible) fires dangerously close to licking their rooftops, as well as the chaos from the coming riots only spreading. Children will be children, and some will cling, plenty will scream, and a good handful will cry. Do your best to get them out of the way, so to speak. Remove them from danger, shake off the nitpick employees (or duct tape a few to a wall for the kids to throw tomatoes at) and return to your objective: the basements or locked rooms. Down the poorly lit staircases and soundproof-charmed hallways will be found adult monsters of all kinds and genders. The darkness is their only friend, their living conditions are indignant, and compulsion spells still plague them to obey. They haven’t see the light of day for as long as their eyes remain opened, caged and forced into bearing offspring for their slavers. Many are exhausted, frightened, and some may even be too far along their trauma to react nicely to their visitors if left to their own devices. Some may be newcomers though, strong of mind and only waiting for you to give them freedom, to allow them to help you help them. Calm them, steady them, and free them. Lead them safely to The Resistance’s hideaways, and beware those who may come to stop you. The less you’re seen, the better.

III. THE CRACK The Coven as a whole may be a little restless, as much as they attempt to hide it, once they’ve gotten word of the uncontrolled pests in town. The occasional hush and whisper rushes through their halls with clicking boots and flowing cloaks to awaken those nearly ready to rest, with the majority of their witches cursing the Resistance, and one or two smirking subtly under their pointed hats. The willing dignitaries of Aefenglom old and new that have received word in secrecy— gift horses— are told to stay in the building under their watchful eyes and safety. shelter is offered close to the river and harbor from where they came. They wouldn’t want their guests harmed in this ugly crisis, after all. Though look hard enough, trek with patience, and the sympathizers will come forward quickly, nimbly with news: a back entrance for those who want access to the city exists. Those who come will be met with Resistance members beyond these gates, disguises in hand to offer and grand thanks for joining them. Nerissa Bell will approve without openly approving— her hands are rather tied, but do take care of yourselves. She’ll do the best she can to keep accusations null and void. The citizens of Dorchacht are frightened and panicked, others join in the inspiring revolt, and even more jeer as the city splits. Some buildings may be truly lost and close to collapse by the enchanted flames and sparks of fireworks popping into the sky. Homes and businesses aren’t saved from the crossfire, even a handful of citizens are caught in the fray— no one said you couldn’t help them, care for them, and tranquilize them. No one said you couldn’t fight, either. You’re “glorified tourists”, aren’t you? Show them your glory (without giving yourself away).

this is the player plot announced and discussed here to help free dorchacht! all players are welcomed to wildcard what they do to their heart’s content and by no means are trapped into these prompts! more group discussions can be found here and questions can be directed here! have fun!!

Comments

[partnerinheels]

[She makes a noise of agreement at his assumption, but if Sheva could manage to secure travel accommodations that weren't akin to slave ships, that's what she's going to do. They've already been treated like property and objects for too long.

Still, smuggling was their best option at this point.]

I am certain he'd be far more interested in speaking with a strapping gentleman such as yourself. [Sheva can't help but smile to herself, keenly taking amusement in the situation.] He's quite fond of bears.

[As they walk, she nudges him with an elbow, her voice teasing.]

Do you think you can act charming for a conversation?

[heartsbane]

[ the insinuation that Jorah be the better pick of the two of them causes the semblance of a smile on his face to quickly drop. he looks at Sheva cautiously, pausing to consider if she is actually being serious. she's an attractive woman. charming him should be a—

—oh. now he gets it. ]

I see. How... coincidental.

[ good thing the word "bear" has a single use in his world, so at least he isn't tainted anymore than he already has been in the last ten seconds. Jorah expected arguing, the spending of money and possibly even fighting his way out of the harbor. flirting with someone was the farthest thing on his mind. with a heavy sigh, he shrugs his shoulders and simply resigns himself to his face. ]

I believe I have charmed you at least somewhat. Surely I can give it my best effort. Do please have a backup plan in mind if it does not go well, however.

[partnerinheels]

[There are men on the docks that would certainly prefer her flirtations to the knight's, but their far more loyal to money than any other cause. Plus, she's not about to actually put out to sway the favors of crooked men, much less when they're liable to double cross them in the end. D'art pointedly doesn't trade in slaves, and he's well trusted by her contacts in the resistance.

Her smile fades a degree. She hasn't considered the option that Jorah had anything against those who are attracted to the same sex.] Is that going to be a problem?

[She hopes not, for many reasons.]

You have charmed me more than somewhat Ser Jorah. [The confirmation is spoken in all seriousness, and she even slows her walking enough so she can catch his eyes. All teasing aside, she has faith in him on this, otherwise she wouldn't have suggested such a solution.]

I have backup plans. [She adds after a few moments of pause.] But this ship is the best option if we can swing it.

[heartsbane]

[ the question she brings up after is enough to make him sputter his lips in amusement. he didn't think his words implied any offense. he simply wasn't in the mindset to think he was equipped for the job. ]

No, no, my lady. I will give it my all as I always do. We can only hope that is enough.

[ the last person he "charmed" into doing anything back home required the use of him literally dealing in slave trade. that's an entirely different subject. it is safe to say he just feels out of his element is all, but that can be said about everything he has been doing on a daily basis since arriving here. she at least provides him with some mild comfort, leaving him giving her a nod of appreciation. thanks for the confidence boost, Lady Sheva. ]

Wish me luck.

[ and that's when he gives her a pat on her shoulder before taking lead, approaching this D'Art individual at a leisurely rate as to ensure he wasn't immediately cautious or concerned about his intent. ]

Sir D'Art, I take it? My name is Jorah Mormont. My friend here has said many kind things about you. I was hoping to try and confirm a few of them tonight if you would lend your ear for a small time.

[partnerinheels]

I'm sure you'll do splendidly.

[She's half tempted to wish him luck with a swat to the butt (a pinch would be difficult in his attire), but instead offers him an encouraging smile and a wink as she steps along with him.

D'Art appears a pleasant mix of Jack Sparrow and Adam Lambert, taking a majority of the best qualities of both both visually and morally. He spots Sheva's swagger first, cracking a wide smile that only widens when he spies her companion. The cock of his eyebrow says it all: A gift? For me?

Sheva merely smiles wider and chuckles softly to herself as the bear makes his efforts. Bless Jorah's well meaning and rusty charm. Especially since D'Art seems to find it delightful in his own right, devilish grin growing lopsidedly as he directed his attention to Jorah.]

Aye, that's me. Suspect kind might be an exaggeration, but so long as it's piqued your interests. What can I do you for Jorah Mormont?

[heartsbane]

[ it's a foreign enough feeling to have Sheva give him more than a passing glance. Jorah doesn't even know what to do with himself when this D'Art fellow seems so interested in his appearance. perhaps the beard has started doing him favors in some regard? he doesn't know. perhaps he'll just have to ask Sheva when he prods her for thinking it was a good idea to throw him into the wolves den like this.

he's far too self-aware to allow himself to come off as too stiff or forced, so he does an admittedly okay job. when considering his partner is undoubtedly having a good chuckle about this behind his back, that's more than enough. ]

Ah, you seem kind enough, hard working lad such as yourself spending time listening to an old man for a minute or three. [ is he sweating yet? Sheva, dab him off, please. he's doing his best. ] We are of the understanding that you are, at the very least, sympathetic to those shackled by the Coven of this city.

[ Jorah gives a glance to the woman that is still hopefully at this side and not long gone, as if wanting validation that he was right in putting it out there so soon. ]

Consider us... curious to find out how sympathetic you might truly be.

[partnerinheels]

[He's a handsome man, if not well worn by the elements, he shouldn't be so surprised by more than passing looks, from her or anyone else. Though, maybe he's quite not used to men, or men like D'Art, giving him very blatant attentions.

And yes, the beard is quite nice, but she's partial to facial hair.

When he gets to work chatting, Sheva can't help but rub her hand over her mouth in attempt to hide her amused smile. D'Art, however, doesn't make an effort to hide his and instead leans a bit closer to him. She at least puts a supportive had on the small of his back.]

Oh, aye. [He glances briefly towards Sheva, who brandishes her smirk more openly.] Think we ken come to an arrangement.

[Sheva's voice cuts into the conversation, arm slipping around Jorah's waist and pulling him closer, tutting the captain, who merely appears more amused and interested in the offer.] Look, but don't touch lovely. Figured you would appreciate a beautiful view while we negotiated safe passage for us and... Several dozen monsters, legally freed of course.

[She pauses, offering Jorah an appreciative and lingering look.] Of course, we would chaperone during the journey.