⭐️ 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

[mirshikar]

[ N i c e.

The mages Asura's brokered an alliance with back home would call Chandra's application of magic a devastating exaction of primal force. And were the woman truly of Summer (and of his kin), Asura would've implored her to recount the tale of how she managed to convince gravity to forge such a killer contract with her. But as it is, Asura only comes to recognize their difference in skill: having actively avoided the study of magic for nearly the whole of his first month in this prison-realm, he can't hold a candle to her technical aptitude, but...

That doesn't discount him in this fight in the slightest—in fact, the notion makes his gauntlet of flame burn all the brighter, just as it is his own wrath which sees him propelled down to the cobblestone streets below. Upon his first exposure to the Black City by way of an oneiromancer's web, Asura had let his anger control him: numerous Witches had fallen at his hands (and remain fallen even now, rendered comatose after their consciousness sustained damage) because once, he'd known what it had been like to sleep at a Keeper's feet; to wear a collar and be stripped of identity. But now, he controls that fury instead, feeding it into a spell which sees the patrol-leader (stunned, still, and flattened to the ground) isolated from the Monsters they'd commanded by way of a ring of fire which blazes every bit as fiercely as the infernos set by the Mirrorbound rioters as it surges skyward.

With that very same actualization of magic, Asura could've burnt the enemy Witch to a crisp, but... His focus is upon the Monsters who can be yet be driven away from the hand which would oppress them. And as for the patrol-leader...? Well, this is personal for Asura, and slavers don't get the ease of a quick death.

When the Monsters rise, casting off the initial shock of sudden immobilization, Asura's already at the ready to physically bulldoze the lot of them back, down to the opposite end of the street with strikes that give life to a different form of evocation: bright arcs of compressed air with one hell of a knockback effect.

Question is: if Chandra's providing cover from above with Asura managing things on the ground below, will she choose to strike at the Witch or assist with crowd-control? ]

[fieryimpulse]

[The answer to that question is very, very simple. Chandra does both. This is her element, she's been practicing and using magic since she was a very young child, and she's a few years older than she looks. Her Planeswalker's Spark, a birthmark on the soul, had given her power and her circumstances the drive to use it. Aefenglom had stolen that power, but not the knowledge of how to use it, and she'd been training for a season and then some since arriving. Her passion stoked by seeing someone working magic against a hated foe, she can provide some aid to his work.

One hand reaches out, finger stabbing towards Asura's spell, feeding it (and him by extension) a bit of her own energy. The wall grows, animal shapes twisting within it, begging for him to direct them.

The other raises to the sky, and with a thunderous crack a bolt of lightning rips out of the roiling, cloudy sky and into her grip. She hurls it like a javelin down, down, into the Witch leading the monsters like one of the gods of old...hurling them into a wall with the sheer force of the blast. The slaver groans, smoking, but hardly dead. They'd managed to get a shield up in time to stop from being totally electrocuted, but they're prone and ready for Asura to do as he pleases.]