Event Log: January, Return to Dorchacht

[faileas]

Event Log: January, Return to Dorchacht

I. A Tarnished Reality The teleporter to Dorchacht becomes operational by the 4th and the ambassadors return to their city with the first open, ceremonial operation of the device - along with any Mirrorbound who wish to join them, and Theodore Rosethorne and Sowilo, who make the trip as representatives of the Coven to ensure that all is well. Those who missed the first teleportation, never fear! Now that both waypoints are functional, Mirrorbound and others may travel freely between Aefenglom and Dorchacht at any point they choose to. Notably absent from the group, though - most of the Dorchacht refugees originally smuggled into Aefenglom. Only three or four are going back with the ambassadors, and they're primarily Witches. The rest have chosen to stay. Upon return to Dorchacht, it's obvious that some major changes have been made with the new regime. The sky is overcast, but it's merely fault of the weather at this time of year - the oppressive fog that used to hang over the Black City is gone, along with its effects on the natural lunar cycle. The auction blocks, damaged in the fires of the event the locals now call "The Rising", have been fully torn down, not a trace of them left to sully the streets. Where the triple stars of the Resistance used to be worn in secret, a majority of citizens now bear them openly (and in many cases, proudly) on pins and on clothing. In fact, any Witches who do not display the triple stars on their person somewhere, are generally regarded with suspicion, disgust, or fear unless they're recognized as Mirrorbound Witches - careful not to be mistaken for a Drummond sympathizer. The Monster citizens won't be outwardly cruel to any Witches, but will be somewhat fearful, hurrying their children along or crossing the street to get away. Recognizable Mirrorbound, those who were there during The Rising and before, are treated a bit like celebrities on the streets, though any Mirrorbound are given a warm welcome, albeit a little less warm for Witches. Storytellers share tales of how diplomats treating one another, Witches and Monsters alike, as equals so publicly and openly within Dorchacht gave them hope that such a life is attainable, or how a band of Mirrorbound snuck into the city under the cover of darkness and helped give their Resistance a leg up in the good fight against Drummond's extremists. Others share stories of being rescued from burning buildings or cruel Witches during The Rising by brave heroes. Many of these tales are shared in the form of song, as homage to those Mirrorbound who brought hopeful music to Dorchacht through the radio, which is still operational and playing a selection of music with a little more variety. Still a bit soft, their speakers and songs are, but as time passes, they grow a little more experimental, branching out from the lullabies that used to be played. Overall, the Black City is much less black these days, a little greener and brighter from the plants left by Mirrorbound before. Where the old Dorchacht could take your breath away with its feeling of barred oppression, many of those barricaded windows have been opened, reinforcements on the doors broken down. Though things are never perfect after a revolution, and it's clear that the work continues. Armed Resistance guards patrol the streets in trios, normally two Monsters and a Witch, to keep the peace. Their first priority is the protection of Monsters, many of whom still seem anxious and scared as they go about their days - not of the guards themselves, who they often greet with smiles, but of the Witches and humans they pass on the streets. In some cases, keeping the peace means breaking up fights between their own and those humans and Witches who do not want to accept Monsters as their equals, and in some cases it means putting Drummond sympathizers in their places with intimidation and force. While they do their best to keep skirmishes out of Mirrorbound sight, it's clear that despite the improvements, Dorchacht is still no utopia, and the road to a true peace is fraught with speedbumps. As noted, characters are free to travel between Aefenglom and Dorchacht by teleporter as often as they'd like! The waypoints will remain open even after this month and travel will be unrestricted; we will note if this situation changes in the future. Dorchacht quests are also now available ICly!

II. A Few Alterations a. The Coven Major changes are still underway. One of the biggest that Mirrorbound will notice is that the new administration of Dorchacht have moved the Coven. The old building is in a state of disrepair right now, doors and windows wide open, the interior stripped of trappings. The library has shed its books to somewhere else. The basement where so many horrors took place is abandoned. Instead, a sign has been erected outside it, stating that this center of Drummond's operations will be turned into a museum to remember their unpleasant history, and to memorialize those who lost their lives fighting for freedom. It's still a work in progress, and not high on the priority list when survival and care of the citizens have to take precedence, but inside, characters may still find small shrines set up in various places to Resistance members who died there. Instead, Dorchacht's new Coven is currently based inside an old manor located just a handful of blocks from the town square, and it's a much more informal affair. Magic lessons have continued with Resistance Witches, though the subject matter has changed instead. They experiment with different types of magic based on their own interests, but many are studying plant magic, medicine, and defensive spells that can be used out in the Wilde. Anything that will prove to be practical going forward. Lessons are also open to Monsters now, so they can see what their magical brethren are learning (and know that the compulsion and control spells that Morgana loved so much are no longer being taught). With the Coven being moved, visitors from Aefenglom are offered places to stay either within the manor of the new Coven, or in various empty houses around the city. Stay as long as you'd like, they say, and apologize that the accommodations aren't nicer - reconstruction is still obviously ongoing all over the city, repairing damages from The Rising and the fighting that happened afterward. They don't really have anywhere as nice as the rooms their ambassadors were given in Aefenglom. b. The Walls One of the biggest on-going projects in Dorchacht right now is removing the Monster control spells from the set of enchantments on their city walls. High on the list of priorities is making sure that Monsters can feel safe again, secure in their own minds and bodies. As the spells are made visible, particular sets of runes have to be ground down and smoothed over. A spell is either cast or provided to soften the stone temporarily, and then it's basically going at it with magitech-powered sanders created by Hilda. The particular runes that need to be gotten rid of will be provided on reference sheets - please don't touch the others, they chide! Those are to protect from the Cwyld, and are still very important. While help is welcomed with open arms and enthusiasm at most sections of the walls, those guards posted at one particular small district, guarded with trios of Resistance members at each entrance and warded with alarm magic to warn of escape, turn Mirrorbound away; these runes are being altered, not removed, to help contain unruly Drummond loyalists, they say. The people who now live in that guarded district are all human, whether they're Witches or no, and all refuse to bear the triple stars. "Troublemakers," the guards will explain grimly. "We have to contain them for now. It isn't a perfect solution, but they've hurt people, or tried to hurt people, since Drummond was run out of town." c. Bond Lessons Bonding is a bit of a tricky subject in the new Dorchacht. Many Monsters are afraid of the idea, as it was once used as one of the collars around their necks, but the Circle of Three recognize it as an important way to wean citizens off the lullabies and calming draughts that prevent going feral during full moons. As part of encouraging others to form Bonds, partnerships at the very least the way most Resistance members describe theirs, there are demonstrations and public seminars that pop up around Dorchacht on the regular. They may be as informal as a circle in what's going to be a park or as official-seeming as a talk held inside a shop or lecture hall, but they have one thing in common. Many of the citizens are keen on getting Mirrorbound in on it -- mostly by dragging them in, asking if they have a Bonded, and if they do, they tell the Mirrorbound to talk about their Bonded. They're interested in the ups and downs (but mostly ups) of having one in order to show that if the Mirrorbound are into it, you should be too! They accept all stories but prefer the happy ones - the aim is to encourage their Monster citizens and help them be less afraid of taking that step with Witches. And for those who aren't in a Bond, or decline to talk -- well, they get what amounts to a "flour sack baby" in the form of a Dorchacht citizen of the opposite role of their own (a Monster would receive a human/Witch, a Witch would receive a Monster) that they must hang with for a day, ensuring no harm comes to them, bound by one of the temporary Bonding potions so popular in the Wilders' ranks. (As a note, for the second option, you have free reign of the NPC; do the personalities you find fun, be they cooperative or mischievous, shy or loud, abrasive to your character or someone they can genuinely get along with. They are all willing - no one is being forced into this. No Fae or Dragons allowed for Monster NPCs, unfortunately, as they are still very much not about.)

III. Ahoy Mateys! With Dorchacht opening up again after the last few months of closed off internal fighting, plenty of trading ships' Captains are ready and raring to go build business relations with the new regime and find a new market for some of their wares. There has been increased interest in finding a shorter route to Dorchacht by sea - the teleporter is useful for small groups of people, sure, but it can't handle much cargo. The only problem? Ships are being turned back, barely halfway there, with significant damage to their hulls. Brave individuals looking for a seafaring adventure are asked to come aboard and help the crew navigate tumultuous waters, hopefully figuring out along the way what's causing the damage to previous ships. It's a three day trip to Dorchacht if the waters are kind, and characters can simply teleport back home once there. On board the various ships brave enough to return to the sea, Mirrorbound find the problem halfway through the trip: a colossal squid that's made it home at this point, thrashing ships that come too close to its den. While uninfected, it does have injuries on its body, which may be the source of its lashing out. The ships are able to bring themselves close enough for longer ranged attacks, and the Harpy on board are careful not to be captured by the churning waves caused by the thrashing, but there's others who want to seek a less violent mean to end this surf and turf conflict. Killing, healing, subduing, or relocating it are all valid options, but getting in close to do any of those will be difficult, as it has a tendency to ink up the waters around it and reduce visibility to nothing. Be careful of any creatures swimming around that are interested in the weakened squid as well, such as various carnivorous fish, sea-plants, and things that appear alike to Merrow, but rely only on instinct. The Merrow cannot be spoken to, nor are they infected; the Captains of the ships will explain that they're "wild", and refer to them as distant cousins to the Merrow that sparsely populate Aefenglom itself.

IV. Back At Home Back in Aefenglom, the stir caused by the Circle of Three's arrival takes time to calm. It's the talk of the town for days - many seem happy about Morgana Drummond's apparent demise. "Good for them," is the general sentiment in the residential areas more populated by Monsters and the Harbor District. They're glad to know that things are on the way up there. Others think this is a boon; should anything happen, now Aefenglom has an ally city to stand with them, one in their debt. Others still don't really care either way, and go about their lives as if nothing's happened. The refugees, in their neighborhoods on the far reaches of the Haven, seem happy to hear news from home and find The Dragon/Starlight/Fafnir freed, and while a few of them choose to return to Dorchacht, having never put down roots in Aefenglom, more still don't wish to leave the homes and families they've formed here, or the Mirrorbound who have helped them so much over the months. Some even doubt that things are as good as they say, and choose to remain for that reason - slavery and ill treatment from the upper class in Aefenglom instilled in them a sense of (well-earned) paranoia regarding the intentions of Witches, especially those back home. They hear that things have changed, but don't necessarily want to find out for themselves. Even still, the mood is upbeat, with a general consensus that if Morgana is really gone, that's at least a solid step in the right direction. In the Aristocratic District, though, the atmosphere is sour. The general sentiment is that they wish the refugees would have left with those ambassadors. The kinder ones think Aefenglom should focus on its own citizens - the people from the Outer City brought in to weather the blizzard have never left, after all, still living in the neighborhoods with the refugees. Those who are more vocally outspoken about the Mirrorbounds' presence in the city think they should have all left to Dorchacht. Let another city shoulder all the misfortune they bring with them! Many of the people grumbling about that are ones who were directly affected by the Mists back in October, either through temporary changes themselves or through being attacked by ferals. Some of the more hot-headed young people try to spread this message - through graffiti, on homes and businesses in the Haven and the refugees' district, though if caught, they're quick to run away and not willing to enter into a confrontation. The graffiti is wholly mundane and not particularly difficult to remove, just unpleasant, telling Mirrorbound and refugees alike to "go home" or "go back to Dorchacht", in so much colorful language. Seems there's still some work to do at home, as well.

Welcome to your establishing post for the current situation in Dorchacht! This log takes place through the entire month; characters can come and go as they please. As always, you can direct all your questions HERE. This month we're also putting up a City Tracker for PC actions, both in Aefenglom's plot later on and Dorchacht's log here. Let us know what your character is doing, good or bad! The cut-off for the tracker is February 3rd.

Comments

[usurpers]

[ eren foresees impact approaching as soon as asura launches himself and angles his frame into his middle, while arms would very easily go for his legs— it reminds him, in flashes, of the armored titan’s brute force assaults. reiner was sturdy duress that couldn’t be stopped with a mere perry, a punch or even a kick to put his momentum on halt. it was an impossible tackle that shakes eren’s form once asura connects, just as heavy and rock-like as his aforementioned ex-comradee, down to both forms being forged of crystal, mind you; another similarity that springs onto eren’s thoughts as he has no choice, since the beginning, to abandon his stance and fall.

the summer king gains the first upper hand, but being so easily subdued would’ve been a disappointment eren would find shame in. the thunk against eren’s back vibrates through both him and the earth they meet on, dragon spines scraping against the dirt as his tail complains of being in guard position so soon. but, such was the element of surprise, and the untamed fighter in him couldn’t be happier with a challenge to test not only his clout, but his nimbleness to perceive, adapt, and overcome whatever it was that provoked him.

eren welcomes his opponent with open arm-wings, but not without his pelvis angling up sharply, until his hips follow the curve of asura’s own. friction was a given and heat runs predominantly high, but not with any loss of focus (not yet, definitely not yet! this was a battle of endurance as well!). the dragon’s legs clamp tightly around the other’s waist until talons curl and feet lock to keep from releasing. the next step had been to get his bicep into a fold around asura’s neck, trap him in a guillotine hold— but simply getting his arms, now wings, to perform such a feat as fluidly was a separate trial on its own. eren inhaling through jaws fastened together forces a hiss to sound past them, and with struggle, he certainly attempts to sit up enough to now, with clarity, announce his counter-attack in full.

he doesn’t say it, but the rest of him screams and brawls: give me your neck. ]

[mirshikar]

[ Their natures are the same, aren't they? At their fighter's core, the prospect of a challenge makes the heart sing, the body move with abandon, and gives rise to the wild, primeval hunger which leads all combatants to demand submission from their adversaries— Eren included. But for all that Asura finds himself effectively trapped within Eren's guard (a risk taken and price paid for sinking all of his momentum and power into a singular maneuver), it is only a temporary encumbrance. Grappling, after all, is nothing more and nothing less than continuous upsets and resets of balance; a constant exchange and redirection of force in the form of unforgiving takedowns bleeding into the rigidity of iron-clad holds. And to see that rhythm maintained? One needed only to keep moving.

And move Asura does, lest the crush and hold of Eren's arm begin to restrict bloodflow. To escape that fate, Asura does not impede Eren's attempt to rise— rather, he encourages it with one taloned hand snaking around the bend of Eren's neck to plant itself on the dragon's back (drawing Eren's torso in close for the breadth of an instant to alleviate pressure), the other pressed flat to the earth below. After that? It's all a matter of putting the lock of Eren's legs to the test. Rocking forward does not dislodge either the guillotine or goad talon-cinched feet into releasing, but it does produce friction in abundance a n d so too creates the chance for Asura to make Eren bear the full force of his weight for the second time as his hips snap back like a damn professional, feet beneath him once again as he stacks into Eren, his shoulder driving hard into the neck. And with one flush-with-color dragon holding the other up, that hand against the ground is no longer needed—

Instead, it goes to one of Eren's bent knees, pushing it down until it gives, and the King can fall to the side, wresting himself out of the hold. Well, out of the guillotine itself, at least. If Eren is determined to hang on despite the burning and strain in his thighs, that's another (admirable) story.

But then, Asura's gone and propped himself up; spread his hand over center of Eren's chest, the tips of his taloned fingers touching to the dragon's sternum, dragging along it, but not breaking the skin. Just as he'd been by the bonfire during the Modranicht festivities, Asura is warm, almost unbearably so in the heat of his season, and there is something animal in the way his gaze interlocks with Eren's own, a lush smile upon his lips as he demands not submission but— ]

Show me your strength. [ Again, again, again. In whatever way Eren chooses to, Asura will take pleasure in breaking his hold each and every time.

(Much to the confusion of those poor Wilder recruits. Hadn't Asura said not to blink??? Their poor watering eyes.) ]

[usurpers]

[ (it’ll be of no surprise if some of said recruits begin to whisper yet too eager to actually blink, these poor souls being forced to watch this)

eren’s body— is on absolute fire, both visually and to the touch, though it may be difficult to distinguish if it isn’t just asura’s own fieriness. the heat is pronounced in every run the witch-dragon digs his structure into, rubs the right way that sets patches of golden yellow scales to deep titian leaning closer to crimson. f u c it was tempting and yes he steals attrition in a way that makes him grunt too thickly— but all in a beast’s wild attempt to dominate in his guard.

grappling had been like a push and pull of waves and a battle of wits over brawn, but not completely capable without the former. his guillotine hold had been no match for skilled escapes as these, arms smacking into the mighty torso pressing free (no good, he thinks—). the points of his fangs seethe into the shoulder that forced him, only to snort and agh! in mock agitation. to preserve his knee from popping, eren’s legs finally break their constricting chain, as do his arms com to rest momentarily behind his head in a position well known for deliberate, transitory pauses.

to give his jittering muscles room to breathe, to allow the rise and fall of his lined chest to steady, and, for pin-needle eyes, as intensively blue as the crystal horns that curve back with his skull, to admire the mighty challenger roosting on his torso in temporary victory. there’s fervor in his gaze as he huffs, a tight abdomen stiffening further when the point of a talon tickles him and calls him back for more. the golden dragon’s smile flashing brightly behind olive skin in a manner eren could only define as exotic, tantalizing and provoking in every way—

the touch of fae smell, of sweat, magic and flat out allurement makes eren enjoy this, truly enjoy this more than what a dare would stir in him. not wanting to lose and a rising will to rebel was etched into eren’s being, from birth to growth, and where life experience made such qualities flourish. here, he wanted more, as he bucked his knees into a stretch, and curved his bottom until his foot could squirm its way between asura’s neck and the arm he gives to “try”. he wanted to taste, from flesh to blood, he wanted to see free, he wanted to feel and he wanted to cherish something his soul demands. a second leg wedges into asura’s opposite side, and eren attempts his second strike to struggle his arm into a secure bar. ]

Give me yours—

[ he’ll do it until he exhausted himself, but surrender willingly, he wouldn’t. he was alive and unrestrained and hungry for not just what this preludes, but what he was in fact, sharing. it’s been a long time since eren’s felt younger and swallowing every ounce of knowledge from a superior, or from a comrade who knew more. show me everything. ]