( ooc: if you'd like to participate to the jeweller's rescue: — feel free to make your own log prompts in your starters about chasing Dong-Yun's abductors, until your characters run into them — this is the thread for all characters running into the jeweler's abductors — tag the latest response to this comment, to join in on the rescue. — there is no tagging order — first come, first served, just have fun — feel free to NPC what the abductors do — mod NPC comments might make their way in now and then, but don't wait up for them! — try to leave something for others to do too / don't finish up the group too quickly! )
A dark night, nigh miasma. Even the moon's face is shamed to witness the ten masked men who drag the youth — screaming, squirming, battling their hands — as if he were quarry. Worse still are the doors and windows that creak closed, so those within Ke-Waihu need not hear his wails. Need not know what they condone, implicitly.
The group of abductors is half-way to the aged feet of old man Ke-Sanwon, its fires kindling under the shedding skins of its crackled stone. They do not anticipate pursuers — yet one hears a step, signals the others to silence, and absorbs the look of the forest, seeking intruders.
Alone, Dong-Yun bats their hands, scratches their arms.
RESCUE THE JEWELLER
( ooc: if you'd like to participate to the jeweller's rescue:
— feel free to make your own log prompts in your starters about chasing Dong-Yun's abductors, until your characters run into them
— this is the thread for all characters running into the jeweler's abductors
— tag the latest response to this comment, to join in on the rescue.
— there is no tagging order — first come, first served, just have fun
— feel free to NPC what the abductors do
— mod NPC comments might make their way in now and then, but don't wait up for them!
— try to leave something for others to do too / don't finish up the group too quickly! )
A dark night, nigh miasma. Even the moon's face is shamed to witness the ten masked men who drag the youth — screaming, squirming, battling their hands — as if he were quarry. Worse still are the doors and windows that creak closed, so those within Ke-Waihu need not hear his wails. Need not know what they condone, implicitly.
The group of abductors is half-way to the aged feet of old man Ke-Sanwon, its fires kindling under the shedding skins of its crackled stone. They do not anticipate pursuers — yet one hears a step, signals the others to silence, and absorbs the look of the forest, seeking intruders.
Alone, Dong-Yun bats their hands, scratches their arms.