tdm 05

[thestewards]

Though all the scars are healing
you’re always biting back
You know the struggle's real
I lie down then you attack

► 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. They also count toward AC.

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

THE WAREHOUSE JOB
Master Tinker Mari is in a tizzy. Last night, supplies from her personal warehouse in Wall Town went missing. And not just any supplies. These supplies were prototype items fashioned for a project she’s working on for Grand Master Niall.

Having left multiple messages on Draega’s far-caster network, she’s finally gotten you to help her. She asks you to investigate the warehouse and track down her missing supplies. By the way, don’t try to crack the boxes. They’re lined with lead to protect you from some of the dangerous, uh, stuff (as she says) inside.

At the warehouse, you find the lock on the back door has been picked. From the door, you can see that no windows look into the alley, so no one could have seen the culprit. Inside the warehouse, you discover a floor covered in a white powder, but none of it has been disturbed except where the door swung inward. On the floor, an area clean of powder reveals where the boxes once stood. They could not have been dragged out of the warehouse. If they had, the powder would have been disturbed. Near the back wall, hidden by shadow, you discover a little glob of silt. Someone tracked this in from the docks.

Landens and Blood worked together to steal these items, and you suspect mercenaries are responsible. Do you go to the docks to investigate, or do you turn this information over to the Guilds and let them deal with this problem on their own? No one would blame you for the latter: if landens and Blood are working together, there are certainly muters on the mercenary ship where Mari’s supplies have been taken. Dare you take matters of the law into your own hands?


WILD WILD MEN
It’s nearly dusk. Pink and blue rays from the sun pierce a haze of sand on the horizon, obscuring the sunset and painting the sky with pastels. The world seems blurry and depth becomes an illusion. You know to be wary: this is the time when the wildmen come out of the hills to the south and west of Draega.

You’re standing guard at a farm where the spring planting is just mature enough that it could be pulled in. This is a dangerous time for the farmers. They can’t defend themselves against the wildmen that raid their fields, and there aren’t enough guards from the Queen’s First Circle to protect everyone.

A scream comes from the hills. It echoes through the still, night air. Wildmen dressed in rags and furs appear on the plains before you, their sight shields dropping. None of them wear a Jewel darker than Summer-sky, but they are all wild-eyed with rage and hunger. Subdue them however you can, but be sure to protect the fields at your back.


SPRING CLEANING
After the madness of the Black Widow coven invading Draega, Lady Fayura has asked Strangers to help weave cleansing webs. Just as there are webs that ensnare and damage the mind, there are webs that heal them, too.

She invites Strangers who have left the Residence to come spend the morning in her private garden, where she teaches them how to weave cleansing webs. These are simpler webs, built like spirals that trap oppressive psychic energy and purifies the air, removing those dark feelings. As she teaches you, she explains that the landens and slums were hit the hardest by the coven’s attack and that the most psychic damage was done in the slums and the area around the Guilds.

You could, she suggests, leave your cleansing webs there, but if you do, you can expect resistance. Strangers wear Jewels, and they will be viewed with distrust and wariness in the slums especially. The Guilds, she says, insist they can take care of their own, but this kind of psychic damage requires a web to help repair it.

The Blood in River East clamor for cleansing webs. Once, there were many more Black Widows, but that caste was nearly wiped out in the Cataclysm. There are few Black Widows among the Blood in River East who can do what Fayura teaches the Strangers, and the Blood are particularly susceptible to lingering psychic malevolence. If the effects of the webs aren’t removed, the Blood will twist and become even more dangerous than they already are. At least they won’t try to chase the Strangers out of River East.

But who you help is up to you. The choice is yours, Stranger.


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.] I admit: I'm a bit confused. Can anyone learn how to be a Black Widow?

[Aren's boyish voice is cheerful and amused.] Anyone can learn how to weave a tangled web. Indeed, Healers weave webs to make their healing more effective. Even though you can learn the Craft, that will never make you a Black Widow. You won't spontaneously manifest a snake tooth, for example!

[Evandra:] Well, that's a relief! We certainly don't need more chance encounters that leave us poisoned!

[Aren:] Quite so, Evandra! And recovering from a Black Widow's venom is a grueling process. There are few things more deadly.

[Evandra:] Let's take a minute to discuss antivenin and how our listeners can brew their own at home.

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.] …plenty of sun over the next few days. It's the perfect time for taking in the spring harvest. With all this sun, consider purchasing Sun Shield, a new cream produced by the Medico and Crafter Guilds to protect your skin from…

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.] News from the Queen's Court suggests that we'll soon know who attacked the city two weeks ago.

[Another man, nasally in tone. He doesn’t sound rushed so much as put upon.] That’s right, Garret. The Strangers have been investigating the Black Widow coven responsible for breaking a young witch and placing malicious tangled webs throughout the city.

[Garret:] A handful of suspects are being held in the Queen's Residence as deliberations take place. The Strangers…

Comments

[garmr]

Whatever two sets of hands can run off with.

[He looks at Jaime with a completely straight face, as if being drenched in repulsive amounts of body fluids was something Guts dealt with pretty often. Maybe that’s how he ended up with his name.

He can glimpse a little of the resigned shame in the other Stranger, or was it just displeasure? Either way, he looked like a cat that’d been dumped in a river. Utterly miserable. He didn’t know much about Jaime’s history, but he was taking it pretty well to not be retching. Good for him.

Guts starts to clean the blood off his own sword, shaking a good amount off with a few vertical strokes. It was too wide for a proper sheath, so he simply hooked it to some leather loops on his back]

There’s a well on the other side.

[And with that, he turns to start walking off. He figures they may as well start a patrol around the field til the next raid comes around.]

[goldfinger]

[ Two sets of hands isn't much. Jaime doesn't doubt that means another group might come to make up for it. ]

Right. [ He'll go to the well to wash his mouth and get a good shake and spit for the blood between his teeth, but besides that he figures he ought not to waste any time. When he comes back only the space around his lips and some parts of his beard are clean; he wonders if he ought to smudge everything around to make it equal.

The first thing he says as he approaches Guts once more is: ] I was told Craft could make shields out of nothing.

[ He spares a glance at his forearm, lifting it slightly, and then frowns. ]

I made one. Here. Somehow. Surely we can shield these... crops somehow, yes?

[garmr]

Not too good at Craft. I stick to what my hand knows.

[Regardless, he seems willing to entertain Jaime's idea.]

Some of the others can hold a shield up all night. Maybe you'll have an easier time of it, with that rock of yours.

[Some basic shields, at least, he can teach. Maybe not one of that size and consistency, but the concept was simple enough. Pulling a dagger free from his belt, he focuses on spreading a field of Opal over the blade, giving it the shimmering lines his sword had earlier.]

Try keepin' it steady on somethin' smaller, first.

[goldfinger]

Gods. [ The shine of Opal over the dagger is bewildering. Having performed the same act with his own sword earlier, maybe he shouldn't be too surprised, but Jaime's not sure how that even happened at all. ] That's a shield?

[ The concept of wrapping a shield around a blade is almost hilarious, but in a way Jaime supposes he understands the basics of it. If people are fortified by shields, then surely weapons can be as well-- he'd just never quite considered it to be able to happen without the talents of a smith.

All he has is his sword, so that's what he unsheathes.

But, of course, nothing happens. He tries to change his stance and nothing happens; tries a few practise swings and nothing happens.

Jaime frowns. ]

...I can't seem to make it green.

[garmr]

You're thinkin' too hard about it.

[He seems sympathetic to Jaime here, at least. He was in the man's position just a month ago. He's still in that position, honestly. They're lucky they managed to trip onto the one or two scraps of Craft that didn't come too difficult to him.

He watches Jaime swing his sword a few times to no avail before stepping in.]

The shield is like your sword - it ain't gonna move well if you think too much about how you're gonna use it. You just gotta feel it, like it's an extension of your body.

[goldfinger]

[ The joke's on Guts-- Jaime hasn't felt like his sword is an extension of his body in years. The look he gives him isn't especially faithful, and neither is his comment of, ] You understand that's very vague, don't you? [ But he has to admit this much: Guts doesn't have to help him, and for that, Jaime owes him for expending this much effort to begin with.

He sighs. It's suitably dramatic, very highborn. Jaime doesn't have the patience to learn anything he isn't already instantly good at. ]

"An extension of my body". [ His tone is lofty, dreamy. Jaime shakes his head from side to side, then works to loosen his grip and tighten it once more. ] Right...

You might want to step back.

[ Because Jaime is shutting his eyes, focusing on the weight of the sword in his palm, and lifting it up over his head with his fingers curled close to the guard. The palm of his false hand presses to the butt of his sword as he takes up a proper stance, and he makes a stab, a swing, and upward slide.

His feet move as he slashes, moving through drills he'd memorised as soon as he was old enough to hold a sword. He counts in his head, feels the beats under his feet, and he goes, and goes, and goes...

And the edge of his blade colours green while he's not looking, Craft sent flying at a nearby tree and cutting through a fourth of it with a deathly, ugly sounding crrrrkkk.

Jaime's eyes fly open, and with it the glow of his sword sizzles before it fades away. ] Fuck.

[garmr]

[When Jaime fusses at first, Guts looks back at him with a completely straight face, as if his very vague advice makes perfectly rational sense. As far as his understanding of Craft, it does. You got your paddle there, bud. Time to start rowing.

He watches the familiar repetition of the drills with a keen eye. The techniques weren't exactly the same as his own, but he could recognize the extensive training in the footwork and movements. They were extensively practiced for sure - though the movements in his arm were a bit clumsier. He wasn't using his dominant hand, was he? Despite Jaime's bloody and ragged appearance, he certainly seemed a bit more like a noble than a common foot soldier.

When the crescent of green seethes from his blade, Guts turns to look at the damage done.]

Not bad for your first try. Do it again. Try to keep the shield on the blade - knowing when to halt your sword is just as important as the start of the blow, right?

[goldfinger]

[ Turning to meet Guts' gaze from over his shoulder, Jaime frowns. ] I've never swung a blow I don't intend to land. [ Never mind the fact that that had been before he'd lost all sense of grace with the loss of his hand. It doesn't count, he thinks, when you don't know how to use the hand you're using.

But he shuts his eyes again, doing the tail end of his earlier manoeuvres; at a sideways slash his sword starts to light up again, but rather than push it all the way he ceases just when he feels a strange sort of tingling between his fingertips and the hilt of his blade.

Widow's Wail glows a pretty green, similar to the Jewel that's in his pocket. In the dim light of a pre-sunrise morning, Jaime stares at it, the lights contouring the angles of his face in a strange play of light and shadow.

He turns on his heel to show it to Guts. That brief movement, no matter how subtle, has the light shivering, blurring, before it steadies again. ]

Like this. [ It ought to sound like a question, but pride makes Jaime say it like a statement. ]