test drive 01

[thestewards]

'Cause I have these new fears I carry with me
So you can feel stronger, you can know peace

► All TDM threads may be considered canon provided both parties agree and are accepted into the game.

► Canon threads may be redeemed for influence and reputation, depending on how you solve the issue at hand or how you engage with the prompt.

► Feel free to switch up your character's Jewel from thread to thread. Get a feel for how a Birthright Jewel may limit or enchance your character's abilities.

GOOD MORNING, DRAEGA
The psychic summons comes with the first light of dawn, waking you from a dream of home. It takes you a minute to remember where you are (a warm, comfortable room in Queen Fayura's residence) and then a moment longer to parse the words.

*Your presence is requested in the training field behind the Queen's Residence. You have ten minutes to get your ass out of bed on your own, or ten minutes to decide you want to be up to your neck in ice-cold mountain water. Your choice.* Gray power flavors the voice. Ah, you recognize that psychic touch. Allairavar, the Master of the Guard.

You remember, too, that he warned the household at last night's supper: if you live in the Queen's Residence, you practice with the Queen's court. You…

i. Drag yourself out of bed with an aching groan, dress with the bleary-eyed confusion of one too suddenly forced awake, and amble onto the training field to avoid the promise of a much more shocking wake up call. Or maybe you make your way quickly with a skip in your step and a twinkle in your eye. You haven't realized yet that Allairavar does not like morning people. Even so, you don't want to get dunked in ice water in the middle of winter.

ii. Roll over and go back to sleep. The Master of the Guard isn't really going to carry through with his threat. In your defense, he doesn't. But one of the First Circle does. You're not sure how you got from your room to a large barrel full of water that could freeze open flame, but here you are, soaked and shivering and very much awake.

Regardless of how you get to the training field, Allairavar pairs you with another Stranger and puts you through your paces. It's barely above freezing, but you're going to need a shower when you're done.


BUILD BETTER BOMBS
There are three rows of four tables set up in the Tinker Guild Hall's auditorium, all heavy laden with materials. Bits of wires, buttons both small and large, ticking clocks. A tank full of goldfish. Sand, canisters of gasses, a strange viscous liquid in a bowl of lead.

"Handle that with gloves," Master Tinker Mari warns you with a wink and a grin. "The bowl, I mean. Don't handle the liquid or you'll lose your hand." She waves her hands at you.

This is supposed to be a crash course in bomb making, and in a way it is. Master Tinker Mari crashes into person after person, pushing them into pairs. She shoves someone up to you. "Blow my mind!" she whispers dramatically, and then she vaults the table, making something in a vial smoke, bubble, and pop.

Around the edge of the auditorium are four chalkboards, each with several diagrams on them. Presumably, these are schematics for you to follow. Smoke bombs, flour bombs. Fireworks and sparklers. Water bombs—maybe she means water balloons? One schematic requires a hamster wheel.

You might as well give it a go.

Note: Master Tinker Mari won't let anyone blow themselves up (or blow up the building). In the event Strangers make something truly dangerous and not just inconvenient, she will hurry over with a much more serious demeanor and disarm the bomb they've created with a suggestion that they take her advanced course.


CHARITY IS AS CHARITY DOES
You were sent here to help, so help you have: by letting the Ebon Council auction off three hours of your time and the power in your Jewels to help with local troubles. Maybe someone's cold box has lost its cooling spell—that's basic Craft and you can help with that—or maybe someone needs you to fetch their cat down from a tree. Whatever it is, you're here to take care of it.

The stage you stand on creaks beneath your feet as a polite older witch bids on you and your partner (the Ebon Council would never let you work alone, no, the landens are too dangerous for you to be out on your own!) with three jars of pear preserves. No money exchanges hands here, just items like non-perishable foods and handmade clothing or blankets.

You'll help the little old witch who needs some rocks moved from the fields just outside Draega's walls, but it occurs to you that only the Blood were at this auction, and only they will reap the rewards. That's hardly charity… but that's also not your problem, is it? Maybe it is. You could always ask that landen couple hovering just to the side of the stage what they need (their roof is leaking, and the man's right hand is crippled, twisted into a rigid claw). Or maybe you won't. They don't have anything to offer, and everything has a price, even your time.


HIT AND RUN
Chill winter air doesn't keep anyone inside in Draega. Stalls line the streets of the Old Town Bazaar, and vendors hawk their curious wares. Blood and landen mingle here, each a little wary of the other but with the affect of those who have accepted they must live alongside their enemy. Expressions are shuttered, but marks are marks no matter who hands them over. No shopkeeper denies a customer just because the money comes from someone they don't like, not in times like these.

As you make your way through the Bazaar, perhaps in search of something or someone or a place to eat (the scent of meat pies is thick in the air), you hear a shout and a cry of pain. People peel back as one, revealing a group of young landen men carrying clubs and wearing cruel sneers. At their feet, a young boy sprawls across a puppy in the muddy slush that covers the road.

You catch the flavor of his psychic scent: he's half-Blood, one of those pitiable creatures accepted by neither the Blood or the landens.

"Y-you can't hurt him!" the little boy cries, curling around the puppy. "P-Prince Verim will stop you!"

The young men laugh. "Prince Verim isn't here," one spits, raising his club.

You could step back. After all, this isn't your problem. You could just alert the First Circle and call it done; they patrol the area, one of those males will surely be here soon. Or you could step in. Everything has a price, and the price of attacking a helpless child and a puppy is a tussle with you.


WALKIE-TALKIE
Catch up with a new acquaintance you met at the Queen's Residence or simply pause to listen to the news playing in a store you're passing through. Far-casters come in all shapes and sizes, from the held-held device that's a bit clunky to the radios that stand at a man's height in some restaurants. If you're spinning the dial and listening to some radio programs, you'll hear…

etiquette with evandra and aren.
[A woman's voice leads. It's a little bit rough and a little bit husky, the kind of voice that gives bad ideas to young men and headaches to fathers.] …just as well. Since you don't want to die for offending a Warlord Prince's lady, what do you do, Lord Aren?

[A man's voice, chipper and bright. He sounds more like an eager boy than the full-grown man he is.] Apologize immediately to her, but meet his gaze so he knows the apology is for him as well. Remember, dear listeners: a Warlord Prince's lady may be all that stands between you and a violent end. Make sure she likes you!

[The woman laughs.] Or at least doesn't think killing you is worth the trouble. If we all learn a little more about each other, we can learn to live together. As always, I'm Evandra.

[With great gusto, Lord Aren says:] I'm Aren, and you've been listening to…

[Together:] Etiquette with Evandra and Aren! [Jaunty outro music plays, a complete tonal dissonance with the fact that the two were just educating landens on how to avoid murder.]

the weather
[A soft-spoken man's voice rumbles out of the Far-caster. He's pleasant to listen to, with a soothing cadence to his voice.] …rain tomorrow with overcast skies through the morning and afternoon. Landen weather devices indicate a decrease in sky-pressure, so those of you who suffer from migraines may want to talk to your Healers or Medicos now.

There's possibility of snow later in the week from the northwest. Questions about snow removal? Reach out to your local Transport Guild rep or your Ebon Council chairperson.

the news
…Blood family of four found murdered in their homes. The Queen's Court assures Draega that no payment for the murders is being asked for at this time. [The man speaks at a brisk pace, hurried and harried as though he has too much to say and not enough time to say it.]

That's right, Garret. [Another man, nasally in tone. He doesn't sound rushed so much as put upon.] Preliminary investigations do indicate the Hunter Guild may be responsible for the deaths.

[Garret:] Indeed they do, Wilt. Evidence at the scene supports the use of Breakers on the family. Turning now from the grisly murder to the surprising way the Queen's Winsol gift to the city is being used to benefit both Blood and landens.

Comments

[mollymocked]

[SORRY CAN'T HEAR YOU. TOO BUSY ESCALATING A SITUATION. There's some chatter from the audience and the auctioneer looks scandalized, but no one seems to know what to do but let this play out- it's not as if those poor landens are actually going to be able to offer anything.

And they're kind of flustered about being noticed anyway. "We have very little to offer in comparison..."] Well, you came here, so you surely have something you need help with. Don't you think?

[He looks up at Velvet, and, yes, he is bound and determined to drag her into this screaming, apparently. The more resistant a person is, the more he's going to make a scene, because he is a one-tiefling wrecking ball of fairness.]

[handvore]

[ He is ignoring her and Velvet’s face falls for a moment before she shakes her head. What is she supposed to do in this situation? She doesn’t want to do more than she needs to do and helping people who can’t offer anything is useless in her mind.

So, Velvet steps after Molly and will use her good hand to grab onto his shoulder. ]

Didn’t you hear me? The hell do you plan on doing?

[ It is so easy to turn around and just ignore him, but, that won’t look good for her because she is stuck with him until this is all over. If something is to go wrong, there is a chance she will be blamed for it and that is a gamble Velvet doesn’t want to take at this moment. ]

[mollymocked]

[Molly is all dexterity and no strength, so having his shoulder claimed by someone else from behind knocks him off-balance. The landens put their heads together and begin to either consider what they have while attention has started to move away from them to the squabbling pair on the platform.]

Evening the playing field, making it interesting. [This he says, delightedly, to the benefit of all, and then in a lower voice, to her specifically, he adds:] These people have their own bloody powers they can do what they like with. They're not the ones who need help. We're being auctioned off to help people with plenty of privilege, already, do things they're too lazy to do themselves. Don't you think that's a bit shite?

[handvore]

[ This is not going to end well. But, she can't fight him on this because he is being stubborn and it appears that even if she attempts to direct him away, it will just be ignored. Rubbing her forehead, she groans from annoyance. ]

This isn't a ch -- ... no, okay, it is a charity auction, but we don't make the rules. [ That is where Velvet stands. ] Whatever. If you believe that they can afford it then go ahead.

[ At the end of the day, it doesn't matter to her. ]

[mollymocked]

[Yes, it's a charity auction. That smug-ass look on his face is basically victory personified, and he considers this game set match at this point. The landens have finally looked back up at him and the man with his broken arm says, "We were both storytellers in our youth... Perhaps we could regale these people with something from the old legends. A-a performance perhaps?"

Molly seems delighted by this. The auctioneer less so, but, like Velvet, he's just accepted this is happening and will ultimately not fucking matter, so while he chatters off, accepting the offer of a "performance" as a bid, Molly steps back to his original position.]

I think they have a lot of potential, you know? [Yes, he's going to keep on about this, even with the matter seemingly settled.] I bet that underneath all that unhappiness, there's raw charisma just begging for a stage. I've got a good eye for these things.

[handvore]

[ Right.

Well, there is nothing she can do to change this and do Velvet crosses her arms and will glance away, ignoring what the couple has to say because it doesn't matter to her at the end of the day. She will be content enough to just get the three hours over and done with so she can attend to her own business. ]

I will believe that when I see it. Are you always like this?

[ Because if so, she might have to rethink of who she gets partnered up to in the future. ]

[mollymocked]

Yes. [With feeling, he is like this.] I take it you're not a fan?

[Said in the manner of a person who gets that reaction a lot and has decided it's funny, rather than be put out by it. Molly expects the world to warp around him, rather than be warped. He is, essentially, kind of a prick.]

[handvore]

It makes more work than it should.

[ Velvet is only saying that because she has one goal in her mind and if it doesn't benefit her, then she wants any other 'job' she is stuck with to just be over and done with. ]

[mollymocked]

The sad thing is I agree efficiency in these things is key to keep yourselves alive and paid, but I do have this. [He sticks out his chest which with his low cut jerkin reveals lines upon lines of scars, but the thing he's indicating is the green gem necklace.] And if I'm gonna wear this fucking thing, I'm gonna do something decent with it. Privilege is wasted on the discerning and unhelpful.

[handvore]

[ Her eyes do linger on his scars, but Velvet knows better than to stare where she shouldn't. ] Great, so you believe you can be some sort of a saviour for people? Just make sure you don't get used by them because it could happen.

[mollymocked]

Have you been used by people? [Molly hasn't. He's not nearly that stupid, though he supposes she has a point. You get a reputation and you get used.... Which is why he's deflecting and putting it all on her.]

[handvore]

I'm not answering that. [ It stings to think about still -- or rather, Velvet knows that it is going to get mad about it as a result and she doesn't feel like getting into trouble here. ]

It doesn't important. I'm just warning you.