☆ Event Log: Snatched, Part Two

[faileas]

Event Log: January, Snatched - Part Two

I. A Great Escape (20th, Evening) It's been a miserable six days for the Mirrorbound and refugees kept locked away in a basement cell block, subject to all kinds of torment and experimentation. They're a resilient sort, though, and their efforts to organize and bolster each other are not in vain. As the time passes with no sign of the City Guard drawing close to their operations, the Rathmore family grows overconfident, and characters can hear them talking to each other about another mass-kidnapping in the works. The best opening comes late on the night of the 20th. A few of the family's numbers are out - notably, Thomas Rathmore, his wife, and his mother are attending an emergency meeting of Parliament, and Constance is making an appearance at the Coven. This leaves the more inexperienced cousins in charge, the lesser known Rathmores with no particular skill outside of cruelty. Changing of the guard begins as usual, a handful of Rathmores delivering some sparse rations and taking their time to choose a few prisoners to remove from their cells, but this time, the Mirrorbound bite back. Thanks to the collaborative efforts of Daenerys and Asura, along with the prisoners preparing an organized revolt, a fire started in the torture room provides chaos and cover - and one dead Rathmore cousin, whose body gives up some of the keys to a handful cells. Time to play the cards you've held close to your chest over days of torture, your held-back spells, your tricks, your items that weren't confiscated. A mass escape isn't likely, with so many people still present in the building and so many of the captives injured and tired, but with enough of a distraction in the form of a prison riot, which may be enough to overpower the three Rathmores initially left in the cell block, a handful of scrappy Mirrorbound may make it out to safety before reinforcements arrive. a. The Escape Attempt There is one door out of the cell block, the main, heavy, warded door that the Rathmores enter and exit from every few hours. It's locked down tight - but it's possible to power through it, pick the lock, or charm it open. On the other side of the door, in the greater basement area, they'll find themselves free of the Bond dampening. Witch magic make take some time to return, depending on whether they were drugged or only charmed, but it'll be important to move quickly. The Rathmores' basement area is large - the size of the mansion above and the grounds put together, and they'll find themselves on the lower of two levels. The cellblock turns out to be a room within an even bigger room, with the stairs at the opposite end. The dangers are numerous: magical and mechanical traps set in areas marked off-limits, illusions intended to confuse and turn people around. There is only one completely safe path from the cellblock door to the stairs, unless they take the time to disarm the traps and illusions with their returning magic and abilities. That safe path is faster but more exposed, with two or three Rathmores in pursuit, and also the other people that could occasionally be heard outside the door - young aristocrats in on the kidnapping, who thought the Mirrorbound would be sent home. They're just as surprised to see you as you are them. In fact, it's not difficult to overpower these non-Rathmore kidnappers; they're obviously shocked to see Mirrorbound still here, in such states, and some are quite angry, or scared to learn what they've inadvertently gotten themselves into. A good handful flee instead of fight, but some others follow through on the shouted orders to go after you. Use the chaos your appearance causes to your advantage. Once escapees reach the upper basement level, up the stairs and through a hidden door, a few more traps remain, but up here, it looks more like a normal basement; servants' quarters, empty for some time now, storage rooms full of antiques, and winding hallways connecting them. It's easier to hide in this dusty maze to escape any pursuers, and eventually, they find the servants' exit out onto the back grounds. From there, freedom is just a run and a decorative, wrought-iron fence away. b. The Chaos Back in the cells, everything descends into chaos. The Rathmores are furious; while two or three of the cousins go after the escapees, the rest begin to gather down in the cell block, put out the fire, and the interrogations begin. They don't bother taking prisoners out to torment them now - they can't, with their torture room charred and smokey. Their main focus is forcing prisoners back in, and locking everything down with magic and heavy chains, to ensure no one else gets out. They grow more vicious now, and they begin speaking directly to the captives - they want to know which ones got free, how they managed it, who helped them, where they're going, who they're going to tell. Those who refuse to talk will be gagged or muzzled or simply beaten without finesse, and they'll move on to the next captive. Preying on the Mirrorbound's camaraderie with each other is the tactic they quickly turn to, hurting one to try and make another talk. The talk outside the main door grows louder in these few hours, angrier. Occasionally one of the Rathmore cousins will go out to spin some lies, or simply shout down any protesting. Some of the enchantments were damaged in the riot, though - they can hear you, just as well as you can hear them, muffled but still mostly clear. The more they hear from within, the more the confusion outside grows; all the better for the escaped Mirrorbound. ..."What's going on? Those were Mirrorbound that got out-" "We thought you were sending them home!" "You told us there was no risk, that this would make them leave-" "You don't need to worry about that! Go back upstairs!" "Someone needs to get a message to our Uncle Thomas immediately-"... They're all panicking as their grand plans, flimsy as they may have been, start to crumble around them. It's just a matter of time, now. The OOC post for the escape plotting is here if anyone needs to refer back to it! Eight characters will be escaping first thanks to a joint effort. The rescue will be underway within two hours of their escape, but those two hours are likely to be unpleasant for characters who remain in captivity. Any NPC maimings or proposed deaths need to be reported on the City Tracker; please note that mass murder / killing NPCs will still have consequences and needs mod approval first, but we're happy to work with players however we can.

II. The Cavalry (21st, Very Early Morning) The City Guard is closer than the Rathmores think. Thanks to Mirrorbound investigative help, not always strictly legal but still appreciated nonetheless, they've all followed the clues back and determined a possible address. By the evening of the 20th, several members of the Guard and Witches from the Coven, along with any Mirrorbound who followed the trail, are camped out at a manse nearby, the home of a wealthy widow eager to see her nasty neighbors knocked down a peg. Without solid evidence, the Guard can't get a warrant cleared to search the property owned by a Mr. Barclay, assistant to Thomas Rathmore, but solid evidence comes as soon as eight Mirrorbound manage to fight their way out of captivity, returning to friends and Bonded. They are the last piece of the puzzle, and now legal action can be taken. Theodore Rosethorne, leading a small group from the Coven, sends out a magical message to just the Mirrorbound - they've been found. Anyone who wishes to help bring their missing fellows home, anyone who can help with much-needed healing, or anyone who wishes to bring their captors to justice needs to show up now, because time is of the essence. The Guard can't mobilize more men quickly enough in the middle of the night to be useful and they need all the hands they can get, without a floor plan of the mansion or solid ideas of the captors' numbers. They can barely wait an hour for more hands to arrive before it begins. a. The Rescue Sowilo, Theodore's Bonded Fae and a skilled hand at illusions (and seeing through such), leads the rescue efforts, along with some of Theodore's Witches from the Coven. With information from the escapees, they plan to go through the back, take the servants' exit, and make their way down to the basement levels, while Theodore's assault team will go through the front doors, making as much noise as possible. Sowilo's illusions will keep their presence masked at least until they get into the house. The aim is to get through as quietly as possible, find the cellblock, and secure a safe route to take the prisoners out without them getting hurt any worse than they are. It's easier said than done. Magical and mechanical traps of various types litter both basement floors, and heavy illusion work has been placed to obscure the way. Splitting into smaller groups to disarm the traps and deal with the illusions will be necessary, as the entire group will make its way down to the cellblock as quickly as possible. Sowilo hopes they face little to no resistance, with Theodore's group doing their job, but a few, Rathmores and otherwise, are bound to try and stop them; in that case, they will have to fight. "Make sure you can argue a case for self-defense, if you have to hurt them," Sowilo will tell the rescuers and later the freed prisoners on the way out, wings fluttering agitatedly. "Let them be arrested and publicly humiliated in court - ruin their whole family line for generations to come." He's not happy about it either, and will overlook some of the captors getting a taste of what they deserve, but deaths are not permitted on his or the Witches' watch: anyone who takes things too far will find that the person they're attacking has simply vanished - a convincing illusion - before they're handily knocked out with a spell. They face less resistance than the assault team, but less is not none; a few of the Rathmores are determined to salvage their efforts, and some of their unwitting aristocratic cronies have sided with them. Once they reach the cellblock, dismantling the enchantments that keep the prisoners restrained and addled is the first order of business for some. Others can start unlocking cells and helping people out of their restraints. Protection for the escapees on their way out will also be necessary, as well as medical attention back at the temporary base camp. The main focus has to be on those lost friends and loved ones, bringing them back out to freedom and making sure they're tended to - not on revenge. b. The Assault Theodore Rosethorne, along with some members of the City Guard and some Witches from the Coven, leads the assault. While the rescue team goes around the back, they plan to go through the front door, as loudly and conspicuously as possible. The mansion is large and needs to be swept from top to bottom for perpetrators and evidence that can be used in court. Those joining up with this team are warned that it needs to remain legal - the Mirrorbound and the refugees, all of them, have a very shaky, uncertain legal status within the city, and a mass murder could severely harm what good will they have from the locals as well as their status here. After all, many are still neutral to positive on the Mirrorbound, but that could change in an instant. The Coven will take as much responsibility as they can, but they cannot accept the blame for a senseless slaughter. Splitting into smaller groups will be necessary in order to cover more ground quickly. The aim is to locate, subdue, and arrest as many of the culprits inside as they can. The Guard provides magic-suppressing cuffs, and the Coven a basic knock-out spell, but since many will not go so willingly, some degree of force may be unavoidable. If there's one thing the rich fear, it's a legal black mark on their family name and reputation - the Rathmores will fight back harder than their underlings, but they're also the ones they need alive to face the justice system. Those outside the family, those who only knew about the kidnapping portion, are a mixed bag - some might fight back, siding with the Rathmores, but some might give themselves up once the realization of what happened in that basement sinks in. Once they make their entrance, things move quickly. Several wealthy aristocrats either flee or fight, but their attention is thankfully pulled away from the basement and toward the upper levels. There are dozens of rooms to search, and many are cluttered with an old hoarding family's antiques, furniture piled against doors and windows blocking access to some areas, hundreds of nooks and crannies among the sheer amount of stuff provide cover for culprits to hide in. It's going to be work to ferret them all out and bring them in. Worse still, the Rathmores have collected dozens of cursed or enchanted objects that may be used as weapons against the forces of justice. Some degree of force is expected, but still if anyone tries to take things too far, they might find themselves slapped into cuffs or knocked out with a spell themselves. Any NPC maimings or proposed deaths need to be reported on the City Tracker; please note that mass murder / killing NPCs will still have consequences and needs mod approval first, but we're happy to work with players however we can.

III. The After (21st On) Activity continues all through the night and late into the morning at the former Rathmore estate. All the Rathmores and a couple dozen other wealthy aristocrats are brought out in cuffs over the course of several hours, while all the prisoners are liberated to receive medical attention and reunite with their loved ones. The Guard take statements from everyone who will give one - what they witnessed, what happened to them, what they know - and all who were affected are told they will be invited to testify at trial. A gathering crowd forms at the end of the street, wealthy neighbors aghast at the horrors they're learning had occurred right in their District. Most are disgusted with the once-prominent family. On the steps of the Parliament building, Thomas Rathmore, his wife, and his mother, all sitting members of Parliament themselves, are publicly arrested in front of colleagues and on-lookers early in the morning. Constance Rathmore is taken out of the Coven roughly in magic-suppressing cuffs, surrounded by a small group of furious Witches, students of the Coven who spent the week trying to find the missing Mirrorbound and refugees with Divination. They escort her to the prison themselves. All who are arrested are transported to holding cells of their own within the City Guard - all except those requiring urgent medical attention, who will remain cuffed to their hospital beds until trial. Nessie and Mhairi make an appearance at one point to give the Mirrorbound their sincerest apologies for what happened, and Mhairi delivers the news that they're pushing for an expedited trial in Parliament, in order to keep Thomas Rathmore from bribing any contacts. They, along with Theodore and Sowilo, and the Guard, are all open and forthright with what will happen next: public trial and a certain conviction, followed by sentencing. They don't expect that the Rathmores will get away lightly; what they did is too public and too horrific for even the anti-Mirrorbound wealthy to stomach. Those others who were involved, who weren't aware of what was going on behind that metal door, they'll still face justice themselves, no doubt. In the meanwhile, those kept hostage will need all the help they can get to reach something resembling normal again. Hug your loved ones, nourish your Bonds with each other, and begin trying to heal together.

Welcome to Part Two of January's event log, Snatched! An aftermath summary of the trial and sentencing will go up on Feb. 4, the day after the City Tracker deadline, so get your submissions in if you have them! More politically-oriented characters may find an opening in the near future to enact change within Parliament and provide their own representation within the city...

And as a general reminder, please make sure to use content warnings where necessary in your headers!

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f̺̻͓r͖̺̙e̠͔̺e͉̫̟d̡͎̺o͉͉̪m͙̫̝ (e!!!!)

[usurpers]

[ it had been a long, exasperating week of searching, and an even longer space of time leading to recovery, it felt like. after the breech, an escape that quickly allowed the rescue team eren had been apart of the clamp down on the rathmores and their chambers, danaerys would have gotten a visit from the dragon once her whereabouts were confirmed (through jorah— eren was quick to go to her bonded first, just as eren soared to reunite with his own bonded chimera). heartfelt in his own way, unable to help embracing her and burying his lips into silver blond hair. he had found her scales at the market some days ago, and hoped that she felt her comrades building an assault for them. they were far more than audacious to have waited so long, and held tightly onto who they were the whole while. some people shatter. some people give in. others don’t, even if it’s more he’ll that awaits them— they won’t even know if they don’t keep moving.

there had been something about eren that was off, though. the emotions he displays aren’t fervent, nor of a passionate young man of fifteen that swore to destroy all enemies who harmed him, and destroyed him. the dragon had lived a life littered with revenge until it devastated everything he still clung to dearly. the need for vengeance dissipates, and it left him in a subdued shell. his passion is redirected, never gone, never put out— but his understanding of their race expands. aefenglom, the aristocrats, even the rathmores . . .

he can’t see the difference most swear to perceive. it wasn’t you in there, a guilty part of him croaks, but even then, melancholic forbearing overrides the sentiments. he’s lived through every one of his fingers slowly clipped off. he’s lived through bloody, dragging castration. he’s lived and felt everything on the opposing side who distributes these disgusting acts, kicks his own brethren to their death, for the sake of a greater plan. in his own life he’s done it, his captain enjoyed it, and even today, he remembers the screams of pastor nick getting his testicle crushed between a slow churning metal clamp. all comes down to own simple thing: humanity, and that will never change, no matter which far off world he stumbles into. it’s always “us” or “them”, and living beings would always choose “us”.

there’s a detachment from eren that’s more prominent now that things have outwardly settled. his words are cropped or nonexistent, replaced with almost stale glances or simple gestures and body language to speak for him. he doesn’t . . . have pleasant things to speak of, so he won’t share. occasionally, he’ll search for different topics to discuss and distract themselves with, even working sometimes— but he always returns to the same, faraway place no one could go but himself.

helping dany search for the farm was an easier task than presumed. asking the farmers at the wilde’s border took him to a single barn with the smell of wood and hearth, and a faint taste of feathers. moving day was sooner than later upon her, bringing any belongings she needed to her new home. eren too, was hard at work completing the entrance to a new tunnel in one of the farm’s storage sheds. he’d explain what he was doing once it was complete, eventually emerging from questionable whereabouts hair caked and body dusted with earth, and crystal-blue talons drenched with the black of deep dirt. in his hands, as he approaches the resting queen, is a once buried bundle, protected by oxen leather and tied with fur-string, drenched in dry witch blood. ]

I found this. [ he says, gently offering her the packaged assortment, but not yet allowing her to take it herself, leading her to set it on the grassy earth. ] It’s a charm. [ he thinks; there’s something buckling the string together that wasn’t a tied knot, but a carved accessory lagertha could have been seen wearing. runes that don’t originated from aefenglom, but a symbol the viking queen wore with pride. ] Witch blood.

[ and witch blood was a powerful thing. unraveling it would show dany that the accessory was in fact, something to be worn, a necklace that rivaled the intricate handywork and braiding of the wild dothraki. it is charmed, yes— a beginners spell that could be strengthened with some aid, but protected from changing its purpose: protection, feeling as if something celestial has given you the strength to fight and bare your fangs in the face of death, straight from valhalla. ]

[freeing]

[ Daenerys was one side of a coin — she was unaware of how many parts had been sold to the highest bidder, but she knows there is misfortune in knowing despite finding the Rathmore, that means there are those willing to buy such dubious parts. Any work Daenerys did, any work Eren did... it would not fix the underlining problem here.

It is not her world, she whispers it to herself when she dreams of Westeros and Essos. Where she imagines what world she would have built for her son if he had lived. The dreams she finds herself escaping to when the world turned to nightmares ... they only last so long.

When she reunites with allies and friends alike, she feels that if she had no home calling her name, she would fight for them here and now. Push aside the pain still rooted under her flesh and fight. She is vulnerable here and now, instead finding the smartest choice to withdraw from the city. It causes her nothing but pain, why linger?

Eren assists making this come true, in choosing "us" even without meaning to.

The farm was unlike anything she experienced — where there was simplicity, there was also no activity. It's quiet, and even when she shuts her eyes she feels a ghost of someone touching her wrist to bind her. It is not a beauty she would dub worthy, no pyramid towards heaven or castle long forgotten on cold shores where the largest storm once raged — it was simple, but she appreciates it.

He brings her gifts so often she's losing count — and when the necklace is brought to her attention she is left extending her fingertips to let them brush against the charm. ]

Is it morally just to accept? [ After being stripped from her scales... she wonders whose blood it was — and what context it was given or taken. ] Would this have came from the black markets?

[ It is a worthwhile question. ]

[usurpers]

It was buried in the shed.

[ the rest of what was bundled up was— heavy. extremely so. if dany were to remove the strings packaging the folding leather together she would find three things: a shield, an armor set, and a clean sword. after a small shake of his head to rid himself of some of the dirt on him, he leans down for his tongue to touch upon the array for better sensing; the taste at the roof of his mouth and filling his nostrils was just as prominent, and he could vouch: ]

The only smell it has is of the person who was here. No one else. [ the sword is what catches his gazing interest the most, as it has been part of a family of items he hoards: blades. the dragon has, at least, enough self control to stay his hand and allow the queen a decision of her own first; it was on her land, now. he doubts any of this is from the black market, else it’d be there. these things, they aren’t of interest to those vendors—

but certainly, the mother of dragons has seen the viking queen with them or tending to them in this very home or on the streets of aefenglom. ] You can do what you want with it.

[ because, he’s aware— the one that was here was her friend. mirrorbound just like them. it’s also me sending lagertha gifts from beyond the grave. ]

hey??? stop hurting me

[freeing]

[ Daenerys knows first hand that gifts were precious. That fate was kind to those who accepted its teachings and gifts. She is guarded, a bit more withdrawn than Eren may be accustomed to. She certainly is in kind to looking over what is offered, but – there's a sadness in her eyes. ]

I see. [ She wants to be sure, to ensure she no longer takes what may come from Aefenglom. Offering her own help to any straggler who may wish to find sanctuary here, working off any debt of the risky freedom being in this farmland may provide.

Her eyes do grow sad at the remembrance of such a marvel, of someone who undoubtedly either fell victim to this world or found the secret to return home to her people.

While Owlie may pain me, Dany steels herself onwards. ] I will ensure it does not go to waste.

but it’s my destiny

[usurpers]

[ curves and corners that her emotions took, with walls high and trust in aefenglom battered, there’s nothing eren could do to change it— neither did he truly want to reassure her that things will be well. they will not be. he has lived this story before, and only came to one conclusion. one that, maybe. he’ll speak to her about.

because even now, the fall of her pale blond locks and her crestfallen manner of presentation wishes he could sweep it all away, and perhaps go back to a blizzard during the wailing evening of december, with laughs and friendly jabs while making tea.

he cannot, and would not, blame her for what she feels, or even try to remove her right to esteem. even if his infer went another way, he wasn’t about to convince it was the correct way. there was no correct way. not even moral, or right. it human, and that was that. so, after a moment as she gazed upon the “gifts” with sorrow— eren’s talon ghosts her shoulder, before his palm is soon warming the blade of her back. ]

I need to show you something. [ and, gesturing, ] I’ll put it away for you.

[freeing]

[ She has to be guarded, has to protect herself at the very root of it. Once she does this, perhaps she could pick a sword up or wield this shield. She looks to him with appreciation, lips barely parting. ]

Show me.

[ What else could it be? He's helped show her many things since she arrived here, she had no reason to doubt him. When he touches her, he can hear how the precious air in her lung escapes into a sigh and a slight flinch of her bones. ]

[usurpers]

[ flinching back would simply show dany that eren has second thoughts— and the weight of his palm, heavy as it was gentle, is unmoving and says otherwise. tying the string and packaging back together, eren will rise with it under his opposite arm, and leading her to the shed he came from. once there, empty and full of hay, or scattered tools, the earth here smells fresh and recently uplifted. it’s not wrong to consider— once his hands are free, he begins to gather bundles of hay in his arms, pulls each one away and tosses sideways.

eventually, it reveals a slab of wood, that eren hauls away to expose a hole. one that travels deep, and quite far. one can stand tall in it, with no need to crawl. it’s why eren is a dirt mess for days on end. ]

If you ever need to leave, escape, or find help, for whatever reason, [ he inhales then, ] use this, and follow the blades. [ because there’re dead ends, meant to trick, trap and kill. ] You’ll always find me.

[ this was his domain, and until only very recently he’s allowed even his bond to step foot in one of these. with an almost awkward swallow, he dips his head in acknowledgement. no one else has been given permission to use them, or even know how to use one. for her, he gives this: his safety, his space and his mark. ]

[freeing]

[ There were precious gifts she's received since arriving here, but this one...? She wonders if it was the best of all. There's true safety and freedom in what Eren presents – something simple and hidden, as if only for her. ]

I hope your word is true. [ That she'll always find him, she means. The sight had been something foreign to her, but so were the feelings in her heart. Healing only can move as quickly as fate dictates and Daenerys was no victim of that. Despite being withdrawn, he'll find her hand reaching for his, gripping desperately onto him. ] Thank you.

[ The moment lingers, silently as she looks to the hole presented. ]

I wonder if you realize it yet. [ Her words direct. ] How dutifully you've served me before I even ask for it.

[usurpers]

[ if he’s not in his hole— he knows when someone takes something or simply walks in. a dangerous way of being called back to his domain, but one he could rationalize when he was well. he’s almost always well (almost, but the risk of not being was lesser, enough that he’d regret taking the risk).

when he feels her hand come in contact with his, squeezing, eren doesn’t think; it’s a loose enough hold for her to adjust first, while eren’s talons, long and definitely pointed briefly flex back to keep her flesh from harm as his palm presses, rather warmly, into her’s. his fingers settle eventually, as do the sharpened points of his claws on top of her hand, nearly enveloping it all with how large. it makes him hold his breath, if not for a moment. just a moment enough for him to coax a smile out, and realize what his lungs were keeping from him. ]

I have. [ there’s a word for it, as he offers to lead her down for a brief check-out if she desired to. if not, it could be for another day. he still stands, in front of her to be truthful in a small hunch forward to not stand so tall he’d be distant from her. ] It’s . . . Called caring, for someone.

[ something that he can’t avoid no matter how much he wishes to lie to his dear ones sometimes, or push them away, or try desperately to makes sure they’re far from his influence. and he can’t. he loves them. ]