agentleooc | tdm 03

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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…

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Sansa lifts her hands to cast the spell. It feels foreign, to know power can ebb and flow with little more than a motion and a thought but she supposes it's something she must get used to if she's going to live among the Blood and wear one of their Jewels. She can feel the power of Bucky's Red, too, underneath her own Purple Dusk. It's much richer and darker than hers, a deeper well of power.

"It should begin to feel warm after a bit here," Sansa explains. "If I've done my bit correctly, that is. We cannot guarantee that, after all - I am very new to this particular bit of Craft."

To say that this magic, this Craft, is strange certainly is an understatement more than anything else. It's weird to feel the pull against that well of power, to feel the way Sansa shapes the spell with both of their energies. And how he can feel how deep that well goes; it's vaguely uncomfortable, the thought of it, the sheer potential of it.

At least the spell catches. Of course it would, he had no reason to doubt; he can feel that too, how it hooks into the furniture. The landen couple should be in no danger of freezing now, and they should be able to help more people today as well.

"We can make note and check back at the end of the day. That will give us plenty of time to see if the spell is still holding."

"Yes, I think that's a good idea. It might be dark by then but with you as an escort, I think I'll be safe enough."

Sansa feels like very few people would dare to attack her with Bucky at her side. She's grateful he offered to come with her to this side of Draega, because she'd wanted to help these people as best she could.

"Perhaps we could go have a bit of tea before going to the next house?"

It's a strange notion, that. The idea of keeping someone safe. It's almost never been his primary objective. Certainly it's something he can do though, and looking at Sansa he believes that she could be considered attractive. That, unfortunately, also makes her a target, jewel or no jewel. "I won't allow any harm to come to you."

Hopefully just his physical presence will be enough to dissuade any hopefuls, but he's not afraid of having to knock a few heads together either.

Still, checking back does extend their day and not everyone has the stamina and endurance of a super soldier, so a break can certainly happen. He nods as they start to move toward the door, where the couple thanks them for their help. "In a local establishment, perhaps. If we can find one serving." It has a double meaning of course: an establishment that's open, and an establishment that will serve them. But such a place might also offer opportunity to listen to local chatter, and that is most certainly to their advantage.

What they find is a landen public house, not a Blood one, and it has a much different crowd than the ones back in River East that Sansa has been to before. This one seems to serve men and women who have gotten back from work in the fields (or those who used to work in the power plant) and it reminds her, in some ways, of the smallfolk in Wintertown.

Sansa isn't shy about ordering a pot of tea for herself and biscuits to go with but she hasn't any idea what Bucky might want. She tips her head back toward him to ask. "Bucky? What would you want? To share my tea or to have something with a bit more bite to it?"

The establishment is comfortable in its lack of pretentiousness. The people here are plain, laborers mostly — the kind of people among whom Bucky would have tried to lose himself, back home. For that reason he does relax a little, though he still keeps a wary eye out for anyone who might look at Sansa with less than honorable intentions. She shines like a jewel here, simply by being herself; he shifts a half step closer to her, protective.

He's not expecting the offer, and surprise flits across his face when she makes it. "Tea is fine, if you want to share." If nothing else, the warm drink will serve as another reminder about the work they're doing and its importance to these people.

Sansa flashes him a smile, happy he does want to indulge her even if it's only because they've been working together this evening. He seems a quiet sort of man, reticent and withdrawn, and while Sansa is quite good at getting people to talk, Bucky remains very much a mystery. Still, he's quite kind, and no one bothers her when he escorts her. For that reason alone she thinks she'll continue to ask him to be her companion on these excursions if she's not going with Jon.

Once she's placed her order, she draws closer to him and tries to spot an empty table. She does, after a moment, and points it out. "You're going to get the crowd to part easier for you than I will. I'm tall but I'm slight. Even if this world reveres women, I don't think the landen think the same way as the Blood do."

Edited 2019-03-14 17:03 (UTC)

The smile surprises him; it's not the sort of expression people direct his way. Although she is certainly not the first in this place, so perhaps it's simply a custom here. Or perhaps being open and welcoming is normal; it's not like Bucky has a baseline for any kind of normalcy.

"I don't mind." Parting the crowd that is; even without the help of their Jewels, he knows he presents an imposing figure. Sansa will be able to follow easily in his wake, and he doesn't think she'll do him harm by being at his back. "Stay close to me."

Fortunately, though the crowd here may not have the respect they might get in a Blood establishment, they do respect a quiet word and the gentle push through. They make it to the table soon enough, where Bucky will again position himself between her and the others in the establishment, automatically acting the guard. "If you're planning on coming back to this street tomorrow, we should come to this shop again. Make our faces known as helpful." Or, if not that, at least spend some of the coin from the palace; money is a sure way of gaining some regard.

“I had thought the same. People are more likely to trust the familiar than the strange and so we must make ourselves familiar.”

When the barmaid brings them the pot of tea Sansa ordered, she takes it with a word of thanks and goes to pour cups for both she and Bucky. There’s some sort of thick cakes they’ve brought too that smell faintly of honey and Sansa is eager to try them.

“I want you to come out with me again. As much as I want to trust these people are good, I’ve had ill luck with blind trust in the past and you’ve been a very good escort. I suppose I’m blindly trusting you but I hope that won’t end up going badly for me.”

Bucky's mind of course spins ahead to possibilities and contingencies: familiarity loosens tongues, and loose tongues don't always know what they've loosed in information. That the landen and the Blood live by different rules is obvious; where they lie between the two is less so.

He eyes Sansa carefully over their tea. She truly has no reason to trust him; they've barely met aside introductions at the Palace and the shared experience of waking up here instead of in their homes. He doesn't know what to say to her in response to the thoughts she expresses. Truly speaking he doesn't entirely trust himself, and that because he knows exactly what he's capable of doing. To have even more power than that in this place is not a comfortable thought.

"I can come with you," he finds himself saying. "I don't know what assurance I can offer you that I won't harm you, but you do have my word. If it means anything."

"There's been any number of places you could have dragged me off and no one would have noticed. You're a man with height and weight on me, not to mention you wear a darker jewel. If you wanted to hurt me, there's nothing I could do. Still, though. You haven't. In my world, a man given the opportunity to be alone with a woman like me would have already taken what he desired and left me bleeding somewhere. It's enough to trust you for now."

Dark, perhaps, but Sansa wants to show she's not an idealistic woman. Her world is a dangerous one, perhaps as dangerous as this one, and she's seen things that don't endear her to optimism.

"I do trust you. I trust you not because you gave your word but because you had opportunity and you didn't act on it. It means your word is good."

"Your world is a harsh one then." It's said without judgement, because Bucky knows that sort of thing can happen anywhere. And could happen in the reverse too he thinks, given a situation in which the woman is stronger than the man. "But it has kept you gentle enough."

At least that is the impression he has of her thus far, judging from her interactions with the landen people they seek to help. She's been more easily able to win their trust than he, and he thinks it's a combination of her manner and her looks.

"I hope my word will continue to be so for you."

"I'm not so gentle any longer, I don't think. Being gentle doesn't get you very many places in the world. Being kind does, certainly, but gentleness implies a naïveté that I no longer have the luxury of claiming."

Sansa sips at her tea, thinking for a long moment. "This world is like mine in some ways but different, too. We don't have Craft in my world and women aren't thought of as more than a means to an end. I'm a noblewoman, so I have titles and lands to my name, but that just means people want to marry me to get at it. It doesn't really protect me. The Blood think differently about women. They let Queens rule here, which is different."

It's something Sansa wishes was allowed back home, honestly, and without all of a line dying out to make it so.

"All said, your word is good with me. I know you only by your actions, which have been good, and you've had plenty of opportunity to do things that aren't so good while you've been with me. It could be a long game, yes, but I'm not someone so important that you'd want to toy with me thus."

"Then we'll call it kindness." The word matters not to him, but he can see where she's coming from with it. Still, from what little she's shown him he thinks that she has a good heart. She's certainly earnest in her desire to help these less fortunate people, and that quality is an admirable one.

"So here you do have some chance to be more than you were at home, don't you?" Her jewel may be lighter than his own but their success in their task thus far has been due more to her skill with people, not his own.

Her proclaimed faith in him does draw a small smile though. "I have no intention to toy with you. From me at least, you are safe."

"Here, I have a chance to be free of marriage," Sansa says, smile touching her lips briefly before fading away. "I have no one who wants to steal my castle from me so I won't be forced into another political arrangement with a man I don't care about. I'll have a chance to choose, or, more likely, not choose at all."

The idea of not having to be with anyone if she so chooses it is so appealing she can barely voice it for fear of shattering the dream. When he mentions he has no intention to toy with her and smiles a bit, she tips her head toward him slightly.

"I thank you for your protection, my lord. It makes it easier for me to relax and focus on helping others if I don't have to worry about myself."

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tdm 03

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