agentleooc | tdm 03

Oh we were comin' around You threw me back down
You had my trust in your hands You gave it up again

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VIGILANDEN JUSTICE
Newcomers may have heard: just two weeks ago, the Blood attempted to sabotage the power plant just outside the city. For a brief time, the city plunged into darkness and during that time, Councilwoman Vera was shot and killed in the Old Town Bazaar by a young landen man. A small flower now grows where she died. No matter how many times it’s torn up, it grows back.

Following these events, the Strangers overwhelmingly chose to aid the power plant that keeps the lights on. With the perception that the Strangers are on their side, young landen men and women have grown bold. In the night, they creep into River East, where the Blood live.

Some of these gangs of landens do little more than paint Guild symbols on the walls of Blood homes: a hexagon with circles at each joint for the Guilds as a whole, the Tinker's hammer, the needle and jewel of the Crafters, the double-arrow of the Hunter Guild. They cover walls with incendiary words—words like bleeder and bastard.

Others are not so kind. They bring portable muters with them and break into homes. They steal both precious and mundane possessions, frighten children, and terrify parents. They go to the single altar in Draega and smash the treasures of the Blood’s faith, knocking over candles and lighting tapestries that honor the Darkness on fire.

Have you friends in Draega already? Perhaps you met someone at breakfast at the Queen’s Residence, and now as you walk the streets together, you come across one of these landen gangs. The news is full of reports about what they’re doing. Now, it seems, the choice is yours. Do you stop them or join them? The Queen has asked you to help broker peace between the landens and the Blood, but she’s also given you the worst freedom of all: that of choice. Perhaps you think it best to support these gangs in their desire to even the odds against the Blood.

WARM FRONT
The explosion at the power plant caused a surge of power that damaged elektriline heaters in homes across Draega, leaving many in the cold. The Queen, seeing her people in need, immediately dispatched her court to provide heating spells for these homes. She also asked the Strangers, both those still living at her residence and those living throughout the city, to lend their aid, too.

Members of the First Circle provide a quick lesson on how to cast warming spells. These can be wrapped around people or attached to items, such as small stones or large ovens. Depending on how much power is infused into the spell, it can last for an hour or two or upwards of a few days (especially when cast by a darker Jewel).

Many in the First Circle insist on going to the homes in River East—the Blood homes, places where they are more likely to be welcomed. Some certainly choose this because being around the landens makes them nervous and uneasy, but some outright refuse to help the landens, especially those who live in River North where the Guilds do their business. Prince Barret and Lords Jared and Yarl in particular won’t go to the landen parts of town, leaving you and your partner to canvas Old Town, River North, and perhaps even the slums to see if anyone would like your help.

Certainly, this will not be easy, and the Queen has promised a silver mark for each household you and your partner help.

POISONED GNATURE
Warmer weather claws its way across the land, lifting the temperatures above freezing for the first time in months. While much of the city reacts with relief, and the air in the Bazaar improves in spite of the violence and tension that hovers over the city like a black cloud, the farmers outside the city walls are dealing with their own troubles: cold-resistant mosquitoes carrying disease from the frigid mountains of Askavi.

Stagnant water fills troughs and furrows in the earth, becoming a toxic breeding ground for more of these awful pests. The mosquitoes have little interest in humans, but they’re hungry for animal blood. Most animals bitten by the mosquitoes die within a day, their meat rendered inedible.

Food is already scarce and stores run thin. If more animals die, people won’t just be a little hungry or disappointed in the tasteless porridge many are serving as a hold over until summer, they will starve.

The landen Guilds provide a thick, smelly paste that can be spread over the animals, and the Queen requests the Strangers aide the farmers. She, too, can be found working among the stables with Prince Verim or Prince Allairavar at her side, doing her part to ensure the city remains fed.

AIR TIME
Whether you catch the news on a Far-caster in the city or you're spinning the dial on your own device, you'll hear…

etiquette with evandra and aren
[Evandra's voice is a little bit rough and a little bit husky, the kind of voice that gives bad ideas to young men and headaches to fathers.] …understanding that some people— [She’s being polite about it, but she definitely means the Strangers.] —don’t know how to address a Queen!

[Aren’s voice is chipper and bright. He sounds more like an eager boy than the full-grown man he is.] Quite right, Evandra. For Blood females, remembering titles is easy. Every witch you meet should be addressed as Lady.

[Evandra sounds a little surprised.] Even though male castes have different titles of address, a witch is always called Lady?

[Aren:] That she is! A working Healer or Priestess should be addressed by their caste, but if you’re just being polite in casual conversation, calling her “Lady” is enough!

[Evandra:] As they say: whether warm or rainy, when you meet on the street, you address her as Lady.

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.] …rains coming out of Askavi over the next week. Farmers are advised to cover their plants. When outside in the rain, Blood should shield and landens should wear heavy cloaks to protect their skin. Worried about lesions from the rains? The Medicos have a new salve that…

the news
[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.] …appointing someone new to the Ebon Council?

[Another man, nasally in tone. He doesn’t sound rushed so much as put upon.] It’s hard to say, Garret. With the Strangers in the city, it’s likely that Lord Grejor is waiting to see if any are willing to bring the young assassin to justice.

[Garret:] The landen who killed Councilwoman Vera is a member of the Crafter Guild and is currently being held by the Queen. There have been reports that the Queen means to implement some new process for judging offenses by the end of the week…

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The street gangs have gotten so bad that Mary is almost afraid to go out into the streets, even in the Blood neighborhoods. While landen haven't specifically attacked Strangers yet, she knows that they are generally seen as being on the Queen's side. Mary feels vulnerable, but this is a task that must be done. She's seeing about a flat so that she might be able to move out of the Queen's residence soon.

After viewing the flat, she walks back down to the streets and starts to head towards the market. It's then that she spies the gang members threatening a woman and her children. Mary remembers one of her first days here, when a gang was attacking a landen boy and she and Henry had stepped in to help him. It's easier to be brave with Henry around. Without him here it's up to her to step in and do something. She's still not great at attacking spells, but she does an excellent defensive shield.

As Mary approaches, she notices the man stepping out of the shadows and she hangs back. What he's able to do is impressive, and she's fairly sure that he's not using Craft. That power is native to him.

Once the woman and children are on their way, Mary hurries to catch up with the man. "I have never seen anyone do something like that," she says, her eyes flickering over his metal arm.

There's nothing for it except to interrupt the altercation. Fortunately he's able to do so without seriously harming anyone; he tries not to do that anymore. It would've been easier to simply kill them but though Bucky doesn't really understand the nuances of the political landscape here, he is trying not to make that his default course of action. He doesn't have to live that sort of life anymore, he thinks.

He's not unaware of being approached, but decides to let it happen. He's pretty sure he can slip away from her at a moment's notice; she doesn't move like anything other than a normal person. Bucky's not even sure why he's allowing the interaction, save that he does need information about this place and there's something to be gained in firsthand interactions.

"There is no one like me." Not the full truth, but not entirely a lie either. And it's certainly truthful enough for this place, he thinks, watching the way her eyes linger on his arm. It's not the first look it's gotten and he doubts it'll be the last either.

Mary's still trying to learn such nuances herself. Deciding not to kill anyone was a good idea on Bucky's part though. In general, Mary would like to hope that the Strangers are not adding to the violence that is plaguing this land.

"So I see," she replies. Her eyes linger on the metal arm for a second longer before looking away, because it's not polite to stare, even if she's never seen any prosthetic function in the way that this one does. "Are you human?" Mary shakes her head. "Forgive me. That is a rude question. It's only that some people here are not human."

And he displays extra-human abilities.

Bucky starts walking again, but with a slower pace and shorter stride than his usual, out of deference for the differences in their height.

"I'm human." He glances at her again, out of the corner of his eye. Not many people would have apologized for such a question; at least, not many that he's met. It's curious. "Mostly human. I think you can guess which part of me isn't."

It's a poor attempt at a joke maybe, but there's no hiding his arm, at least not until (and unless) he chooses to look into new clothing. But that's certainly not an immediate concern and as such he's put it aside.

She can indeed, though the rest of him is human. So it is a prosthetic then. All that she can surmise is that if this man is from her world, he must be from far in the future.

Mary looks up at him as they walk together. "It is incredible craftsmanship," she compliments. "Does the arm give you strength or does the strength come from you and is used through the arm?"

The compliments, the conversation, are actually a little uncomfortable for him. He does his best to keep it from his face though, because he is walking around with the arm showing; questions are going to be natural.

"My strength is my own," he finally says, after some debate on how to answer. "My arm is just a tool."

It's much more than that to him, but that's something he's only really trying to define and compartmentalize for himself.

So the arm isn't the source of his strength. She finds that interesting. His strength may be his own, but it's clearly greater than that of an average human.

"I did not think you were using Craft," Mary says, "unless you were already an experienced practitioner." His abilities flowed too naturally. "I came here with no such prior abilities and so I am still learning how to use my jewel. So far, I'm much better at defensive actions than offensive ones."

At this point, Mary offers him her hand in greeting. "My name is Lady Mary Crawley."

"I'm a soldier," he replies. It's a good enough explanation as any, and one that he doesn't think is going to draw too many other questions. He's been told that using the Jewel can enhance what he can already do, but that's worrisome as well. He'd been a very effective, very deadly operative before coming here. Being given this augment? Not the most comfortable thought. "I've had a lot of training."

He takes the hand she offers in a firm handshake, one that doesn't linger. "Bucky Barnes."

"You must be quite a soldier," Mary comments. "What year was it for you back home?"

That might explain the metal arm and the super human strength. To Mary, he seems futuristic. She would also agree with his line of thinking. If he's already deadly without using the jewel, just think of what he can do with it.

"Twenty-sixteen," he answers, after taking a moment. His own concept of the passage of time isn't exactly the best, but he'd known the year; it had been in newspapers he'd picked up.

He's choosing not to elaborate on the soldier part however, hoping that she'll drop it. It'd just be easier that way.

"Nearly a hundred years after I'm from then," she says. That makes sense. Soldiers in her time certainly didn't have the sort of hardware that he has. "You must be a more recent arrival. Honestly, we're glad that more people have come. As you can see, we're going to need all the help we can get."

Basically, this world is a trash fire. Bucky's probably realized that by now. "Especially because people from the first group have begun to disappear," Mary adds.

"Interesting." He'd overheard it in passing conversations, things like timelines and worlds. He's still not fully convinced this is all real, but if it's truly a fantasy, then it's one hell of a fantasy.

Even if it is a fantasy that's filled with power struggles and other fun adversities.

That last bit does catch his attention though. "Disappear how?"

tdm 03

Vigilanden Justice

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