[Seasonal Event] Another Day in Andaris

A seemingly common man appears in the marketplace.

4th of Saun 716

The capital city of the of Rynmere, here is seated the only King in Idalos.
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Faith Augustin Champion
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[Seasonal Event] Another Day in Andaris

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Faith
Faith was largely unaware of what was going on around her until there were shouts of "stop thief" and so on. She looked around and she saw that there was a child, running pell-mell through the crowd. Things suddenly became cold, much colder than they had been but trills before and Faith looked around in shock and some surprise. What on Idalos was going on here, she wondered, what had happened? But as she watched and took stock, she realised that it was a small child, young and grubby looking. Faith frowned slightly as she realised that this was the thief. He was probably starving, and she would not be chasing him any time soon. As the ground crisped around them, Faith looked around to see if anyone was moving to chase the boy.

Because if he got caught, then he was going to get into all kinds of trouble and all kinds of pain and she couldn't bring herself to be responsible for putting a child in that position so she watched as the child darted in one direction and she lifted the pot of salve in her hand, thinking that she could throw it at anyone trying to chase after him. But there... was that Master!. She thought it was. Or at least, it looked like him, though her angle wasn't great. Oh, Famula's lantern but she couldn't lob anything at him, because ... well, she just couldn't, just in case.

But equally, she wasn't going to do anything which might endanger that boy, or which might get him caught, so Faith watched, stepping to one side and just watching and waiting. She didn't do anything unless it looked like the boy was going to get caught by anyone other than Master (if it was him, she craned to look ~ if it was, she was sure he would be kind) or it seemed that the boy was stuck or cornered. Because she figured that if she did anything to help right now, she would probably be doing the opposite of helping. But if necessary, she was ready to shout, cause a distraction or in some other way try to make sure that the boy escaped.
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This PC is dead. See this thread for details.
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[Seasonal Event] Another Day in Andaris

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Finding a stall with sewing equipment was much easier said than done, when looking down the streets lined with more stalls than houses. Perhaps it was just the Sev'ryns upbringing in a tightly-knit community like Desnind, but the markets in Andaris and even its surrounding territories had always struck more as a free-for-all skirmish than anything cohesive. Stalls boasting the qualities of their wares, some all but dragging prospective buyers from their casual strolls. Was this how it was always done? Some weren't even truthful. As he passed a stall covered in fish, the grizzled stall-owner yelled loudly that the quality of his fresh trout, caught on that day by his own fishing rod, could not be bested in all of Rynmere. The glassy gaze in the fishes eyes and the scales that peeled off even as it swung from the hook embedded in its mouth hardly supported his claim. They could be anything up to a week old and he'd never know; the smell should have been overpowering if they were particularly ripe, but the only thing that filled Nir'weis nostrils were the unmistakeable smells of perfume and manure.

It was only by the grace of lady luck herself that Nir'wei found what he was looking for within a somewhat reasonable time. A little stall manned by a stump of a man, missing a few teeth, yet that didn't stop him from beaming when Nir'wei started browsing through the small array of likely second-hand clothes laid out haphazardly over his table. "Got any not wet?" Nir'wei asked, to a fresh peal of laughter.

"Afraid not, my man." It was obvious that this wasn't one of those finer-society places that seemed to pander to the nobility like clucking hens gathered eagerly for the foxes, with little more than a small handful of cotton and wool clothes as its highest quality, and even that was rather poor, with seams still very visible and stitching leaving gaps under the arms and between the individual pieces. The rest was all jute, hemp, repurposed linen from bedsheets. That suited him just fine, though. He'd never have the money nor the need, nor even the want really, to bother with finding and caring for fine silk or satin robes. What would he ever use them for? Cleaning out Volareon stables? If they came naturally perfumed and immune to Jacadon shit then he'd pour his entire life savings into a single shirt of the stuff but it hardly seemed likely that would be the case.

"You'd think with all this material you'd be able to tie a few cloaks together into a makeshift awning to keep the rest of this stuff clean," Nir'wei pointed out as he pulled a wooly cloak from under a pile of soggy trousers. That earned another chuckle and some offhand mutterings about trying that in the future but little more. "Hey, got any like these, but a little longer? And with a hood?" The owner remained silent, but raised one finger with a grin and turned back around, searching through some of the wares still piled up against the nearby wall - apparently there wasn't enough room for all of them to be put up on display. Made sense, honestly. Given the quality there was no doubt many people would visit this stall today.

At some point the rain had returned, but he only noticed it when abruptly it stopped for the second time in what couldn't have been more than several bits, at best. Arch hopped off his shoulder and perched on the edge of the wooden table while the owner rummaged through a disheveled pile of old garments. "You know, at some point, I was under the impression that weather is supposed to be somewhat consistent throughout the day. Now I'm just wondering when I'll wake up and start this day for real." At first, the sporadic changes in already freakishly off-weather had been amusing to the point of physical laughter but the joke was starting to run a little too long now. There wasn't even any humour in Arch's voice when he spoke, just the same disinterested monotone that normally came from babysitting several small disobedient children.

A few moments of waiting and he was presented with a surprisingly clean, quality hooded cloak. The wool hadn't taken too much water damage yet, so he still had time to... do whatever the hell one did to waterproof garments like these. The stitches were tight, too. "You make this?" He tried not to sound incredulous but when he looked to the man's face, he saw the stall owner was staring off somewhere into the distance over Nir'weis shoulder. When the Sev'ryn followed his gaze, he saw a small child bolting through the street, a bag slung over his shoulder, to the shouts of 'thief'. "Huh." He tried not to laugh or sneer, because he knew that with a sudden move into unknown territories, he could end up like that young lad in as little as a season. Starving, picking food off strangers to keep himself going. For little more than a sense of mutual respect for the lesser folk, he should have turned back around and given the boy a free pass. But... perhaps there were goodies in the bag? Maybe if he returned it to its owner he could try and ease off a reward? At the very least, even if he didn't end up catching the lad, it'd be a little bit of entertainment for an otherwise miserable day.

He'd have to make it quick. The kid was fast. "How much?" Nir'wei asked the stump of an owner without glancing back.

"Call it fifteen gold nel." A high price, likely for haggling purposes.

"Deal." He fished out fifteen nel without another word, snatched the cloak off the little man while his eyes were still widened in shock, threw it around his neck and bolted straight after the child, building up a good deal of speed despite the damp cobblestones that made it difficult to grip the road. Actually, it wasn't just difficult to grip, it was nearing impossible. He never remembered just a light bit of rain turning the streets so slippery, it felt like that one time he'd accidentally fallen onto a frozen lake and had to crawl his way back off. That was in the middle of Zi'da though, this was Saun! What the hell was this freakish weather, did Rynmere's skies not follow the same basic laws as the rest of the world?!

He'd built up too much speed in his run-up to the full chase and his attempts to dig his heels into the ice-slick cobblestones was too little too late - he barely managed to catch a glimpse of another running man before their paths interjected violently. There was some flurry of motion, a flash of pain on his backside and a tearing noise before Nir'wei sprawled out on the ground, with a few onlookers stepping back to avoid tangling limbs with the fallen Sev'ryn. "... Ow." He didn't bother looking up to check whether he'd caught the other pursuer in his mishap, but he did check the ground with his fingers... which made him unintentionally burst out laughing - a sight that must have confused a few onlookers. "Somebody pinch me, I must be dreaming. Ice! In Saun!" Freak weather patterns, ice in Saun, his new cloak torn within literal trills of its purchase. You couldn't make it up if you tried.
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We return to where we started, and pass onwards into history.
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[Seasonal Event] Another Day in Andaris

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_________________________
4th Trial of Saun, Arc 716
Ziell watched the child scurry away with his bag thrown over his shoulder and bouncing while the woman beside him hollered for help. The spell had done its deed and chilled the roads to ice so that those who took chase would find it impossible to do so. However, the spell had done more than that. The skies above the city thickened and grayed, a soft caress of a cold breeze slid over the cheeks of those in the square and while the ground had frozen over, so had the water in the clouds.

Sea blue eyes watched two men sprint toward the child, one slipping and the other trying to slide safely to a halt just before the two collided in a whirl of noise and limbs. Being an Immortal, he couldn't help but cringe in a very mortal like fashion. Ziell knew what that pain felt like. The only times he'd ever work up the strength to fight was for his life, normally disappearing from the battle because his moral code wouldn't allow him to break peace, especially not within himself and harming anyone would do exactly that.

Turning to Henrietta, Ziell nodded his farewell to her. “Thank you for your help.”

She was shivering now, attempting to pull the apron seated around her dress up a bit in hopes of being warmth to her cold arms. Her clicking teeth was the only response she gave and that of a gentle bow before he turned to venture into the crowd.

People swarmed around the two men now sprawled upon the road, one laughing hysterically as they commented about the weather. Ziell smiled, watching as a fat snowflake fell slowly from the sky to settle upon the man's cheek. Then another and another till everyone took notice of the bizarre weather by looking up.

It was snowing alright and since the ground was already icy cold, the snow dropped on top of it and stuck, slowly piling up as the ice fell like a white sheet from the sky. Murmurs exploded through the crowd as the entire marketplace stilled to watch the strange event.

Ziell stepped over the two bodies to grab his bag that was left behind by the boy a few meters away from the men. Picking it up, the Immortal noted the missing food, coin, and clothing he'd carried, but the other artifacts within the bag, even the ring, remained. He fished out the item he'd just purchased and popped open the box that protected it.

There it was, glistening faintly against the falling of snow. Nodding, Ziell 'clop!'ed it closed and buried it within his pocket, making his way back to the two men on the floor. “Thank you for playing your part.” The corner of his mouth tugged up in a smirk as he offered a hand to each of them, hoisting them up to their feet. “I hope the ground was as kind to your bodies as it could be.”

Pausing to allow them time to recover, whether by dusting the snow from their clothes or rubbing their aching limbs, Ziell interjected once again. “As thanks, I'd like to offer you both a gift.” It was if someone was dumping snow from the clouds, showering the noblemen in the marketplace to the point that it was hard to see past an arms length. However, the air around the Immortal was clear, like he was stuck in a bubble. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the ring he'd just purchased and removed it from the box. Wrapping his fingers around it, his skin began to gray and freeze, power pushing to his fingertips till he released the ring and offered it to the human. Then he removed a carved feather charm from his own necklace and offered it to the Sev'ryn.

“It is not a coincident that we've crossed paths, you know.” Ziell said, crossing his arms. “You mortals love the taste of war, I fear. There is nothing I can give but a simple warning. Whether you wish to heed your own destinies or not, that is for you to decide.”

He spoke again and as his words rang out in deep, twisted tones, the air electrified and wind began to blow against the citizens so harshly that they were bound to lose their hats in this sudden blizzard. All at once, the marketplace grew silent as visions of the possible futures flashed within the eyes of all who stood in the snow. The power would wash over their minds, sinking into their bodies as exhilaration would drive their heart rates to hammer in their chests.

But the visions. The visions would captivate them, each constructed out of possibilities— choices that each person could make moving forward from this very moment that would or would not set the possible course for whatever it was the say.

But Ziell had a sense that most saw death, violence, or something close to agony.
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"All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.”J.R.R. Tolkien
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Daliane Andaris
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[Seasonal Event] Another Day in Andaris

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The Immortal's looks did not change a bit. Ziell was still a handsome guy with features that would make Daliane's heart melt even during the new climate change. The boy's eyes settled on the god's smile, a radiant one that made him turn red. Daliane was blushing and his shocking look turned soft. He was smiling at Ziell now, head tilted to a certain degree and all. The feelings he had for the man were very much clear and though they've only met once, Daliane had learned to love the Immortal an arc or so ago shortly after reading as much as he could about Ziell and the life he lived. Books written by scholars described how just and peaceful the man had been, even after losing the beloved Daia. The Immortal of peace and prophecies had a personality more lovable than his appearance. By means of the aspects he found important, Daliane had developed a crush on the god.

Daliane placed a hand over his heart before turning to Alistair. He sighed heavily and said, "Ziell." The name was said with much admiration. If Alistair is good at reading people, he would know exactly how Daliane felt. "You've heard of him, I'm sure." He returned his gaze to the Immortal. Even if Alistair hasn't heard of him, it wasn't a big deal. Daliane did not know of the god until he was marked by him. Actually, he did not really believe in the Immortals until Ziell appeared and this is nothing uncommon in Rynmere, really. Rynlism is the prime religion. The Sacred Seven were bigger than the gods and everyone born in the region is taught to worship them at a very young age. Others like Ziell were rarely talked about and hardly mattered to some people.

Alistair's suggestion made Daliane scoff and speak in a scornful way. "No." He told him. "This is the first time since that night." Daliane's comment did not sound like him and if he could hear himself, he would have apologized to his acquaintance.

He quietly watched Ziell move from the stall to the two men who had gotten his bag back for him. One of the men were Tristan, another Venora who would be a good friend of his someday. Daliane did not pay too much attention to him, keeping his gaze on Ziell.

Without saying a word, he moved with the crowd to gather around the men and Ziell. Clothes still damp, he felt the cold weather greater than anyone else. Not for long would he feel it, Daliane had an ability the god had bestowed upon him long ago. All he needed to do is channel that ability and use it.

He closed his eyes and did his best to find this ability deep within. Daliane mumbled something that could not be heard and suddenly the cold did not bother him. He did not shiver and his teeth no longer slightly tapped against each other as he shook. Unlike everyone else who was unprepared for the change, Daliane did not have to try to keep warm. He placed his arms back at his side and walked with no problem. He could even walk across the icy ground without slipping and falling on his bum.

Snowflakes began falling out the sky, collecting on Daliane head and giving him a crown that will melt away in trills. He hardly felt it.

Daliane pushed through the crowd, excusing himself until he finally reached Ziell. He stood behind the Immortal, staring at the back of his head at his long locks. Daliane listened to him thank both Tristan and the other man before handing them both a present. Tristan must have received something nice. Daliane could not exactly see what he got but judging by the reactions of those around him, it had to be something sentimental. The other man must have received something nice too since Ziell was a fair god.

A remark was made by Ziell to the two men and when he was done, images came to Daliane's mind. It all happened so fast and Daliane had such a hard time with what he was seeing, he reached out and touched the Immortal's back. "Ziell." He called out when a hand was placed firmly against the god's back. The wind picked up and he was having a hard time holding himself.

Common-Xanthea
Last edited by Daliane Andaris on Sat Sep 10, 2016 7:33 pm, edited 1 time in total. word count: 746
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Alistair
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[Seasonal Event] Another Day in Andaris

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In his vision, he saw . . . so many things. He saw a place, deep in the heart of a thick forest, surrounded by danger. Men and women screamed as the undead encroached upon them - as their flesh melted into naught and the smirk of a raven haired woman set anguish in their hearts. They were as playthings to a greater being, and they found themselves in a well of torment. Their bodies were set to piles of steaming flesh by a woman with a maw for a face, who devoured their bodies bit by bit and piece by piece. She licked her lips. She smiled. Their displeasure was her fulfillment. Their torment was the mark of her victory.

She was a mage. And the woman beside her - the one with raven hair - a mage as well. Ellasin Dathlande. Mother, Alistair had called her. Dear, darling, love, my son, she said in return. Before her stood a great ruin of the old world - and in her clutches was the secret to something dear to the mortal race. Alistair stood behind her, watching but never partaking, fearing and never knowing. He stood in a loathsome trance as he merely witnessed Ellasin gain all that she wanted, setting the world to ash. Idalos would be nothing if she came to power. He could feel it . . . he was shivering in his skin as he watched the coy smile along her lips. Ziell . . . Ethelynda . . . Raskalarn . . . Faldrun . . . these Immortals would be razed like any other if she could finally obtain what she wanted: true power. The kind that cannot fade.

He burst into confusion. Another vision came - yet predating this one. A man, a boat, the coast of Lamonte. He could hardly make out the features, but he could see a scar on his face, long and running through the cheek. A biqaj. A voyage to the southwest. Where? He did not know. He could not foresee it all. This vision was something unknown to him, though the one before had made itself crystal clear.

He saw nothing of the civil war, of the end of this conflict. This made him understand something. The true war was not yet here. It was yet to come. The true war was between mages and Immortals - such a war could consume the world.

By the time his vision ended, he found himself merely inches from the Immortal. Ziell, Daliane called him. The Immortal of Peace.

"Ziell," Alistair called upon his name, brazenly, "If you represent peace . . . then can you not prevent this war? I represent a Great House of this Kingdom. It is all upon my shoulders, and I would soon see my men die by the thousands for a battle that means nothing at all, and yet I can't stop it. Is there not a thing in this world that we mortals can do but die by the arbitrary wills of others?" He frowned. He saw nothing of this war - of the future of his Duchy and this Kingdom. Maybe it wasn't too late to change his fate, and the fate of Venora. He had to try.
Last edited by Alistair on Sun Sep 11, 2016 9:59 pm, edited 1 time in total. word count: 520
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Tristan Venora
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[Seasonal Event] Another Day in Andaris

One moment Tristan was running, quite quickly, considering that the ground was covered with ice. A moment later he felt something or rather somebody crash into him and found himself on the ground, and his behind hurt more than it hurt after a trial on horseback. "Ow", he agreed with Nir’wei, somewhat lamely – and made the mistake of taking a deep breath so that the Sev’ryn’s questionable body odour assaulted his nose. He coughed. By the Immortals, when had the man last taken a bath? And had he ever brushed his hair?

As Nir’wei asked for somebody to pinch him, the noble actually considered doing that as he was usually a nice man and quite enjoyed pinching people occasionally, but then he decided to get away from him instead. Touching him might not be entirely safe. It was just then that something occurred to him. Nir’wei looked just as poor and neglected as the thief. Maybe they were working together, and Nir’wei had decided to stop him so that the thief could escape?

Apparently not, he answered his own question. He watched as that the man that had stepped over him – couldn’t he just have walked around him? – grabbed the bag. The thief must have panicked and dropped it. He was actually quite happy about that. It meant that the thief would live another trial, and he wouldn’t be thrown into some sort of dark and dank dungeon either. He was just about to get up and leave because his job was done, when the man spoke.

He immediately forgot the crowd that his collision with Nir’wei had attracted, although he usually quite enjoyed attracting a crowd with his antics (he worked for the theatre after all). He even forgot his slave that he had spotted somewhere, a bit further away. For perhaps the first time in his entire life the young noble was utterly speechless – for a few moments at least.

The man was an Immortal! He was pretty sure about that!

Still looking slightly dumbfounded, he accepted Ziell’s hand and stood up, groaning very slightly as he did so for his backside still hurt. "You’re welcome!" he replied with a small smile – he had found his self-confidence or at least a certain percentage of it again – as Ziell thanked them for playing their part. "I aim to please. The ground was quite comfortable by the way. Almost as comfortable as the back of a horse." He brushed the snow of his clothes before he accepted the ring and looked at it in awe. A gift from an Immortal! His family would not believe him!

"Thank you", he said a little belatedly, realizing that it might be a good idea to be polite to an Immortal before he informed the Immortal, because somebody needed to do it, and he doubted that the other people in the marketplace were brave enough, "You are wrong though. Not all mortals love the taste of war. Some people actually prefer peace. I’ve never killed a man and I would much rather the conflict with Veljorn stopped immediately."

He wanted to say more, but it was just than that the visions began. Tristan stood there motionlessly, in the middle of the marketplace while the snow continued to fall around him and was speechless for the second time in about as many bits even though he tried hard not to. The wind had begun to blow so harshly that it nearly hurt, but he barely felt it. His heart began to beat faster and faster as a multitude of images assaulted his mind.

Unlike most the young man did not see death, violence and agony. He saw peace and pleasure and fun, more fun than he had ever had in his life. He saw Rynmere Theatre, Lady Jane Andaris, the premiere of his play. He saw Zanik and Ilaren in addition to Ziell. He saw Faith, Daliane, Elyna and all his other friends. He saw money and fame and beautiful people, just enjoying life together because no war lasted forever.

He saw himself going on adventures and travelling the kingdom, and he saw countless incredibly imaginative pranks that he played on people and wonderful works of art that he created. He just hoped he would still remember them when the visions were over because he wanted to make them for real!

He also saw himself doing responsible adult things which was surprising because he didn’t usually do such things, but in the visions it all worked out. He saw his grandmother, being proud of him!

And then the visions were over, as quickly as they had begun, and when he looked around, still slightly confused he realized that there were actually there. He could see Daliane and his cousin Alistair, talking to Ziell. Why had he not noticed them before?
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[Seasonal Event] Another Day in Andaris

A Seeker, and as hopped up on the crimson energy of a recent victim of her Lethroda she was, her exuberant mind found a certain severity in the strangeness occurring within the markets. The two suns hung over head, as she glanced at them, and yet a curious chill swamped through the street. It was about the time of her designated lunch break, and as per usual she was taking her time with it, perusing the markets and getting acquainted with local Andaris delicacies, art, and goods. Her mind always complained when she made a purchase, making her a relatively drab person when it came to fashion. There were, curiously, two stalls selling sword canes ... which she observed were being wielded by several members of the populace. The women, on the other hand, wore corsets, laced around a dress. Vera's breasts were relatively flat, so she never saw the need of one to protect her sanctity ... if she ever had such a thing. Her mother had seen to it that she kept an open mind, so long as she revered the Goddess, and respected family - other Webspinners.

That chill again, it wafted through her cloak and bit her skin, sending tremors through her body. She turned. What ... is that? It's some kind of magic ... elemental, perhaps? Or is it another Illusionist, or just my own magic playing tricks on me with some new tainted Witchbrand? Her eyes flashed upward when the sky darkened to a grim grey, shadowing the sun with intensity. Now that ... that is certainly not my doing. She glanced about at the others on the street, spotting others who noticed the same. It was then that one man slammed into another, as if a thief avoiding capture - the people swarmed around them, attentions torn between these two events. And then the snowflakes breezed on down.

The event was divine, and Vera couldn't help but drift in closer to the crowd, looking up beyond those skyward chins and tall shoulders of men. In the sky, as if an ephemeral blanket of sleet, that brightness grew and grew until the snow washed over all. As she stepped, she found herself slipping against the icy road, the snow beginning to pile up around her as she breathed a foggy breath. Is this ... danger? Who ... or what is doing this? Looking away from the sky, Vera unobtrusively pinched her way through the crowd to the center, glancing over the two men as another man stepped over them. There was something strange about this one...

No sooner had she broken into the center of the crowd that a pair of conversationalists next to her spoke the name Ziell... it sounded familiar, but she did not equate it immediately with a God. Instead, she watched and listened as that man from before handed down peculiar gifts to the two on the ground. He ... thanked them for 'playing their parts'? It was all so very peculiar. It was made even more dastardly by the choice of words this fellow, this ... Ziell, made. How can he speak of fate? Why does he refer to others as 'mortals'... is he the source of this strange weather? The thoughts made her shiver, and a new idea came about into her mind.

There was so much going on. She had to know more about him.

Pulling her fingers tight as the numb of cold grasped at them, Vera stared suspiciously at Ziell as she took a step forward, not facing him but instead walking to the side in front of someone else, standing behind that curious individual and inches away from the men on the ground. Still, she made a concerted effort to fit in as she simultaneously set about forcing her will to drive her aura of Lethroda forth invisibly, looking down at the two men on the ground instead of Ziell, her aura reaching out just far enough to grasp upon him so she could read his intentions and figure out if he was, indeed, the cause of this storm.

At this very moment, the very air seemed to throb and pulse with the Ether, Vera's ability to associate Ether with the space she could see strangely distorting, as if humming, and then the wind crashed against her cloak. At that moment, she feared retaliation for what she had done, perhaps been caught doing - her lips peeled upward and she gritted her teeth, stepping forward to move to the outer edge of the crowd only to receive. When those images started coursing through her mind, that aura immediately retracted, almost recoiling. It was a transparent mix of white snow and vivid pictures until she shut her eyes for more clarity.

It was bizarre. Misty forests and monsters that roamed in the fog at first, as if visualized from the perspective of something low to the ground. Bushes covered the view haphazardly, that gaze deepening forward and then collapsing in on itself, another flash of imagery - this time a dark-red, shimmering portal in a room of crumbling stone. Wispy beasts loomed near to it, shadows staring at her and beckoning with wings of black ribbon. They were all glimpses, fleeting and almost fake, like caricatures, but they consumed her mind almost prophetically. What was this? What was this power showing her?

Silence followed as the images stopped, and she glanced around - she wondered then if anyone else had seen the same as she? Was this the 'fate' Ziell spoke of? Not long did she have to wait before a man stepped forward from the crowd and spoke almost demandingly, a certain calm about him despite recent events. "Ziell,", he said.

"If you represent peace . . . then can you not prevent this war? I represent a Great House of this Kingdom. It is all upon my shoulders, and I would soon see my men die by the thousands for a battle that means nothing at all, and yet I can't stop it. Is there not a thing in this world that we mortals can do but die by the arbitrary wills of others?"

This Ziell ... perhaps he was an Immortal, like Sintra? It would explain why he referenced the crowd as mortals, and his strange attitude ... and these strange events. No... she surmised silently. He is definitely something as great as an Immortal. Her mind briefly taunted at the idea of stabbing him. If he represented peace as this man claimed, then the chaos Labrae thrived in could be undermined by his ... frigid tampering. However, she knew better than the mess with something she did not understand, even her blatant fanaticism had limits.

And this man, a representative of a Great House. He should be important to know as well, for the nobility always intrigued her. They were those that carried the most power, and they wielded it through tongue, wit, lies, and war - much like Labrae, much like she strived to emulate. The noble's words hinted about the result of what he had seen ... death. Thousands of dead, was war coming? It seemed likely - Labrae was bound to pull the right string eventually to facilitate the chaos she sought.

Her cloak whipped in the wind at the face of a stranger before she turned to shield them from her distraction, not wishing upon them the hostility of her garments in this event ... which seemed historic. She could only contemplate in silence, mouth held agape slightly as she pondered those images in her mind. Those creatures, those monsters ... the wilderness, the scene. And yet still, she watched Ziell, and the rest.
word count: 1269
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Faith Augustin Champion
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[Seasonal Event] Another Day in Andaris

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Faith
From her vantage point, Faith was able to see more of what was going on and she recognised that it was, in fact, Master who was there. As soon as she saw that, of course, she started to make her way towards him. It was so very cold and the ground was slippery so she was as careful as she needed to be in order to not go careering into Master, which would be bad. As she moved she craned her neck to see what had happened with the boy and where he had gone. Hopefully, he had gotten away completely, Faith thought. It must be very difficult for him because he was small and cold and she thought he must be hungry. Faith had been hungry very many times in her life but this young boy was not a slave and so he did not have the comfort of knowing that whether he ate again or not was not his concern because it was in the hands of his Master. This young boy had to try and mitigate against his hunger here and on his own and Faith thought that must be dreadfully difficult, so she was glad that he had escaped.

Faith moved, then, towards Master but she saw that he was right in the middle of a group of people, all of whom seemed focused on a chap who was speaking to Master and another few people. Faith’s attention, however, was entirely on Master and his movements, he seemed to be saying that he had fallen or something, which must have happened when she lost sight of him. He seemed uninjured, but as she made her way through the crowd towards him, she heard him speak to one of the others who was there with him and Faith had to smile. He was most certainly not a man of war, her Master, he was as gentle a soul as she had ever met.

About to step forward to speak to her owner, Faith was buffeted backwards by the sudden gust of wind which whipped around them. Closing her eyes against it, she suddenly saw visions swirling in front of her eyes.

It was dark and then as the light grew and she became more accustomed to it, Faith saw that, in her vision, she was in a room. It was a strange place because the ceiling was made of glass and the walls were just full of doors, lining the entire four walls. Each door represented a choice, a future, she knew that and yet she also knew that she could not choose; it was not her choices which determined her future, after all, but the choices of the man who shared the room with her in this vision, Master

Each room was a choice for him of what she would do, of where she would go, of who she would be. One was the kitchen, one was the workshop, another his bedroom and all that each room entailed she understood in clarity in that moment. Each door had hanging from it the manacles which had been part of his purchase of her and which he had instructed her he wanted hooks for in every room in the house. Master, in this vision, held the key to each door in his hand. But even the key was strange because whilst it was a key at one end, the other was the Venora branding iron which would burn into her flesh later that trial. That was his choice for her, too, and she realised that she was terrified.

”Catch!” he said, in her vision, and threw the key at her with a beautiful beaming smile. She caught it and she knew what he chose for her. He chose all the doors, for her to be all the things. That was her future, to be chosen for her by the man in front of her, and the immediate future that she saw was the brand which weighed so heavily in her hands in the vision.

Her eyes flickered open and she shook her head to clear it. What a strange experience, she considered, but Master too was looking around in some confusion and seemed a little dazed so she stepped to him and spoke in her soft tone ”Master? Are you alright?” she asked, pretty much ignoring the other people because he was her priority.

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word count: 765
This PC is dead. See this thread for details.
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Nir'wei
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[Seasonal Event] Another Day in Andaris

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The ice, the snow, the crowds and the murmering. It was so easy to get lost, detached from his body and completely forget about the other man still tangled with his limbs. The fact that there was a constant throbbing pain in his backside should have reminded him sooner that this wasn't a dream after all, which meant he'd actually hit someone in the middle of the street, intentional or unintentional! The laughter soon died in his mouth. "Ahh, damnit I'm sorry. Didn't see you there, heh. Plus I," he paused mid-sentence to run his fingers along the ground, feeling the lack of friction and the chill, "lost my footing." Eventually he managed to untangle himself and at least catch a glance of the poor soul. Damn, just looking at his face somehow made Nir'wei feel even worse. He'd hit a pretty boy. Not handsome, not anything that he'd appreciate any more than looking at from afar, but... it was like looking at a dove. Pretty, yet fragile. Something compelled him to rise up and offer a hand, but he couldn't quite find the strength to ease himself away completely and find his footing again.

Besides, someone seemed to find it appropriate to literally step over not only his body, but the other man's as well. It looked like he was picking up the bag and fumbling through it; ah, he must have been the victim of the petty theft. Boy must've dropped it when he noticed the men chasing him, hopefully he'd not made off with anything valuable in the process. Oh well. It seemed like everything had returned to normal for now, at least, everything except the damn freak weather patterns. Perhaps now he'd be able to pick out some sewing equipment, patch up his cloak, get the rest of his stuff and get the hell out of this market before he tore any more clothes, or worse.

"Huh?" A hand was offered and he took it. One strong tug and he was straight back on his feet, staring up for a moment at... him. The apparent victim, although he was smirking now, talking about 'playing parts' as if he'd expected all of this to happen. Had he? All he knew was, Ziell was... something else. Attractive men and women came and went like the tides of the ocean and were often worthy of little more than a lingering glance at best. Like Tristan, they held beauty in them, whether it be physically, socially, something completely new, who cared? They could always be appreciated, an extra little smile, a compliment. This was different. His eyes lingered far too long, long enough that Nir'wei quickly realized this fact and glanced away, perhaps too quickly he thought. Would he notice? He hoped not. Or did he?

The cold was freezing his brain, that was it. "Uhm, sure." It sounded lame, but he didn't really know what to say - just that it shouldn't be what Tristan said, with the cheery air that would have fit perfectly for anyone who hadn't just been knocked on their arse. "What he said," he added after a moment, jamming a thumb in Tristan's direction and swallowing down another quiet chuckle. He'd never heard of the frozen ground being compared to the back of a horse, honestly. Perhaps his finer clothes helped cushion the fall but really, what did he have to be so cheery about?

He swept both hands down his cloak, grimacing at the rather obvious rip down the edge of the lower back. Pieces of ice and fresh-fallen snow were clinging to the cotton, soaking in, weighing down on the fabric. "A, oh?" Admittedly he felt rather embarrassed. If not for him, Tristan likely would have caught the boy and the whole thing would have ended there, no need for the fall, or any injury. Yet there it was, a little carved feather charm from Ziell's necklace. For the second time that day he looked back into the man's face. Even though he meant for Ziell to hear, his voice became quiet, likely too quiet for any ears but his own to hear. "I, well, don't really see what I did to deserve it, but I guess... if you think I do, then, thanks?" Damn, it was hard to just talk normally to the man. He wanted to blame it on the paranormal forces working. The power running around them all, the entire crowd, at his command. The snow working to his whim, never even touching his shoulders - the way he charged it into the ring wasn't normal! There was no doubt he was a magician, a sorcerer, something like that, but that wasn't what kept pulling Nir'wei back. There was just something about him in general, his body, his voice, that pulled strings. It was rather indescribable.

Then it ended. "Huh?" Confusion returned, stronger than ever, and like Tristan he found himself oddly absolved from the warning. He didn't love the taste of war, he hated it! He hated it so much he was willing to leave the city and travel elsewhere to escape it. How could anyone enjoy the death and misery of war? It didn't make any sense and yet, he was still horribly terrified as the gentle winds turned into a raging storm, battering his body, sending his cloak flying as he struggled to shield his face from--

A different sorcery than before. Illusions? No, these weren't pure. It was a vision in his mind's eye, sketchy and jumping rapidly but still coherent enough that he could understand, and to at least some extent, control them. He left the city. Went to another one. No surprise there, there was a war to escape from. Took a boat, sailed... longer than he thought, but then again, this was Ne'haer, other end of the world, practically. Searching for his father. Asking around, struggling, but then a sliver of hope. A window, an opening. But he couldn't pass through it, not like before, no.

The vision grew much sharper, clearer. He could make out his mother. Yes, it had to be her, even though she looked absolutely nothing like he'd ever seen her before. The bags under her eyes were gone, her hair looked clean and combed, she was even smiling! Nir'wei had never known what her smile looked like and just thinking about it was enough to light up his own. There was someone else there too, a man, but he'd never seen him before in his life. Short brown hair, piercing blue eyes, a bit of stubble but in a controlled, well-groomed fashion instead of the unkempt look that Nir'wei currently sported. His lips parted. "You know that I'll always love you, right?" She nodded. And then he stabbed her. The knife came out of nowhere and disappeared just as quickly into her chest cavity, carving a jagged line down her front with blood oozing around the wound. Once he was done, he left the knife dangling from her flesh, jammed his hand into the open wound, leaving it gaping while he tore, from inside, her still-beating heart. She never screamed, never yelled... just smiled, softly, while he tore the life from her eyes.


The vision faded. Nir'wei was left shaking, confused. At some point tears had started streaming down his face and the cold weather had started freezing them against his cheeks, making them glisten even after he wiped them away with the back of his sleeve. More tears followed and he couldn't make them stop. "I..." He wanted to ask why, why Ziell had shown him this vision, but other people from the crowds were pouring in now to touch, yell, ask questions of their own. In the end he was just one snowflake in a blizzard. "Nevermind." Again, he wiped his eyes, swallowed to hold down the bile threatening to rise from his throat, squeezed the little carved feather charm in his palm and pulled the cloak a little tighter around his body. He'd never dealt well with cold. "Guess I'll keep your warning to mind," he muttered as an after-thought, "and who knows, if you have to cross paths with me again, maybe I'll ask you what it means, huh."
word count: 1420
We return to where we started, and pass onwards into history.
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Muse
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[Seasonal Event] Another Day in Andaris

Your review is ready!
If anyone else who participated in this thread would like their reviewed skills, just drop me a PM and I'm happy to toss it in there! Thank you!

Nir'wei

Points

XP:
15 | These points cannot be used for magic.

Fame: +10 Participating in an Immortal-Caused Event

Loot

Charm of Ziell - This little trinket is always cold to the touch. Once per trial, closing your hand around it and warming it with your body heat will create an aura of perfect peace within yourself and within the hearts of anyone you can touch, eliminating anyone's desire for violence or retaliation. This peace lasts for one break and can be overcome with exceptional Discipline or Meditation skills.

Injuries + Overstepping

N/A

Knowledge

Skill Knowledge:
Linguistics: Andaris accents are different from that of other regions of Rynmere.
Linguistics: Universally-understood signs can convey a wide range of phrases and directions.
Negotiation: Sometimes, there's a time to take the first offer.
Negotiation: Unreasonably high offers are made with the intention of bartering.
Endurance: Surviving being thrown onto your ass.
Detection: Picking out particular weather patterns.
Detection: Following what others are watching.
Detection: Selecting high-profile targets from large crowds.

Other Knowledge:
Ziell: Immortal of Peace, Prophecy, and Winter
Faith

Points

XP:
15 | These points cannot be used for magic.

Fame:
+10 Participating in an Immortal-Caused Event

Loot

N/A

Injuries + Overstepping

N/A

Knowledge

Skill Knowledge:
N/A

Other Knowledge:
Ziell: Immortal of Peace, Prophecy, and Winter
Tristan

Points

XP:
15 | These points can/cannot be used for magic.

Fame:
+10 Participating in an Immortal-Caused Event

Loot

Ring of Ziell: This simple silver ring is always cool to the touch, even when worn. Once per trial, when you touch someone with the hand wearing the ring, you can learn a single insight about that person—it will come as a sensation and will be rather vague, though practice can help you come to identify the sensation's meaning more easily. This insight is related to the PC's (or NPC's) highest skill level, and that skill will determine what you sense. So, someone who is skilled in Baking may bring a smell of freshly baked bread to your nose, the stronger the smell, the more skilled they are. A warrior may bring the taste of iron to your tongue like the blade they use. This is brief and can be mysterious depending on the skills of the individual as some of them are very abstract.

Knowledge

Skill Knowledge:
PM me if you'd like to request skills for this thread.

Other Knowledge:
Ziell: Immortal of Peace, Prophecy, and Winter
Alistair

Points

XP:
15 | These points can/cannot be used for magic.

Fame:
+10 Participating in an Immortal-Caused Event

Loot

N/A

Knowledge

Skill Knowledge:
PM me if you'd like to request skills for this thread.

Other Knowledge:
Ziell: Immortal of Peace, Prophecy, and Winter
If you've got a question or concern or if I've missed anything, don't hesitate to PM me!

Now that your review is complete,
don’t forget go back to your review post here and drop this image in!

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