serthica: war & peace

[groundrules]

Clockwork Serthica’s arrival event stretches til around 3 September. You’re welcome to hit up this log or make your own entries. Characters not assigned to a region can still access it, as long as they’re discreet.

Please share cool plot clues via network — and have fun!

WAR & PEACE

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SUMMARY: The Merchant assigns the group to determine if the dead lurk within Serthica’s adversarial halves. Eidris and Minaras hold a summit to normalise trade within Serthica’s elusive Neutral Zone — while a resistance movements attempts to capture Minaras lead figure Arabella. In Eidris, locals must calm a maddened dragon and her cohort and retrieve her hatching eggs. Minaras hosts its eerie civic indoctrination that seeks to extirpate physical and moral decay.


FAIR FORTUNE | SWITZERLAND | EIDRIS: THERE BE DRAGONS | MINARAS: EYES ON YOU

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FAIR FORTUNE

The party at sea is smuggled into Serthica with help from false passport papers secured by their Mouse House companions. The two groups meet at Serthica’s port customs, in time for the Merchant’s private transmission:

”Good afternoon. I salute and thank the efforts of our recent additions. You performed exceptionally.

You will hear Serthica is sundered by war, sickness and irreconcilable differences. In truth, she is likely divided by the interests of those who weaponise fear and manipulate opportunity.

In Eidris, they claim Minaraians are not human. In Minaras, they speak the same of Eidris. Disgust, dismay and paranoia have created a… system of profound physical avoidance. If this is mere fearmongering, it is distasteful, but inconsequential. However… if one of the citadel’s halves has succumbed to the dead, who now know to feign they yet live… this marks a dire escalation. You must study this.

Your transportation beacon sleeps in the holy grounds of Vassarizhia. It will light within months, when the Heart’s clock quiets for its annual winding. You may visit the grounds during the upcoming trade summit.

While in Serthica, your only objectives are to survive until the beacon’s eye opens, and to discover the dead present. I pray but question you will prevail.”

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SWITZERLAND

After a lengthy inspection of their passport papers, the party is steered towards the Sanctuary of Serthica’s Neutral Zone — a vast institute near Serthica’s great clock tower. Here, representatives of Eidris and Minaras assemble at midday for peaceful negotiations to improve distant trade relations.

■ The Merchant recommends mingling to broaden your investigation into Serthica’s dead. Even Minaras leading figurehead Arabella will attend.

■ For peace-keeping, entrants to the Sanctuary must surrender their weapons or allow them to be sealed, if they want to carry them in. Weapons are released on departure. Physical enhancements that characters cannot remove (ex: vampire fangs) are excepted.

■ Those who are unwilling to give up or seal their weapons can head on to Eidris and Minaras.

■ Summit attendants receive badges reflecting their Serthica identities, or can divert the greeting droid and liberate the insignia of a delayed delegation. Higher-ranking badges earns you more lenient treatment and higher security clearance.

■ Eidris attendants receive golden armbands or scarves, those of Minaras dark blue.

■ In bustling halls, officials negotiate grain exchanges, new train railways, the currency exchange rate and the saddening conditions of Mouse House exiles. Alas, if only someone (not them) could help.

■ Those drafted into the talks are toasted with a green, mint-like potion — an unadvertised truth serum intended to keep negotiations honest. The potion’s effects last two to four hours, compelling truth but not speech. But do talk: candour wins answers.

■ Artisans display their finest novelty items in the main reception hall. Aggressively enthusiastic traders seek testers and investors for their wares — potent opiates, goggles that show you the world in 10 years’ time, even detailed plans for luxury teahouses offering droid companionship. Extricate yourself with as much coin and dignity as possible.

SLEEP, CHILD, SLEEP

■ The great clock of the Neutral Zone strikes 18:00, triggering a light three-minute earthquake and the rise of nocturnal Minaras.

■ The Sanctuary loses all electric power. As servants rush for candles, you might notice some native summit delegates behave peculiarly: their eyes look glassy, faces trapped in an expression of comical, exaggerated dismay. Many are frozen in tense positions. Others move in sluggish, uncoordinated and jerky spasms. One might catch your wrist and attempt to speak in staggered, guttural croaks.

■ Lights return once the earthquake finishes. Locals resume regularly and do not seem to have noticed any erratic behaviour.

SLEEP, CHILD, SLEEP
CONTENT WARNING: TERROR ATTACK

■ Starting her speech, Arabella of Minaras calls a tribute for those lost to the great Culling sickness that struck Serthica mere years before. The vigil is interrupted by a fusillade of rifle shots fired from outside, through the Sanctuary’s wall-long windows.

■ The bullets exclusively target Minaras delegates and do not contain gunpowder, but a thickened, pale liquid. Once shot, those wounded experience a hysterical, incontrollable terror and the certainty that their greatest fear is hunting them. Many of the shot delegates develop an instant flight response and seek to claw their way out of the Sanctuary, with no care for whom they trample in their path. This terror lasts 30-60 minutes. Please content warn if you graphically describe your character’s greatest fear.

■ As rifle gunshots die down, a voice from outside introduces the Remembrance coalition, pledging safety if the summit surrenders Arabella.

■ The Sanctuary activates emergency measures: protective magical wards start to slowly reinforce, while attendants risk their lives to return characters’ weapons.

■ You could team up and help Arabella’s few remaining guards to escort her to safety in Minaras. Drop a line if you take this route.

■ Outside, you find the Sanctuary’s grounds have been drenched in a thick fog that barely allows you to see steps ahead. Your senses dull, and you are gradually prone to sleep — while masked men close in with rifles and vicious droid hunting hounds.

■ Help Sanctuary guards take out the assailants — and submit your character for a RNG draw to interrogate a lone captive.

■ Characters who later investigate the Sanctuary can find some of its windows have been very carefully pricked, fissured or even minutely holed, easing the way for attack.

Crawl back to your home base in Eidris or Minaras — you need the beauty sleep.

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EIDRIS | THERE BE DRAGONS

Eidris’s relaxed atmosphere might balm your rattled nerves after the Sanctuary’s disasters. Startled citizens gather to offer you help settling in, while dragons seek you out to curl up and nuzzle.

Eidris is governed by natural order and harmony, achieved through firm etiquette, consideration and reminders to slow down. You can hole up in a room in one of the many abandoned and repurposed villas, or group up to take a whole house. Local technology is a blend of mechanical gears and magic that substitutes fuels. Sorcerers are frequent, boastful and admired.

Dig deeper, and you’ll find the people of Eidris are unwilling to linger on negative experiences and gradually lose memory of them. If queried, many natives have normalised intermittent amnesia, with some using their link to their dragons to stay anchored in the present.

■ Acclimate to your roles in Eidris and enjoy the sweet welcome of neighbourly gifted meals and knitwear and a personal, signed letter of support from king Thivar.

■ Eidris prepares for the rare hatching of dragon eggs, lain by the beautiful fire-breathing Aiva — one of the fewer martial dragons used by Eidris’ military. Two weeks into your stay (around 25 August, forward date at will), word spreads that Aiva’s mate has been deeply injured by a Minaras scouting ship during the 6:00-7:00 overlap period when the two citadel halves are both overground.

■ A panicked, distrustful Aiva collects her silver-shelled eggs from the formal nest quarters, hiding them on the rooftops or in the balconies of tall, dangerous buildings. Several other martial dragons assist Aiva by guarding these hideaways until the young dragons can hatch.

■ Eidris calls back most transport dragons to avoid altercation with their fire-breathing, paranoid brethren. This might strand some riders on the nearest decrepit rooftop, while testy dragons fly by. They don’t initiate attack, but are more prone to warning tail sweeps or light charring, if you come close.

■ Dragon lord Cain d’Ubiq urges riders that can reconnect with their dragons to help retrieve the 1m, 50-kg eggs and deliver them back to the dragon grounds nest before they hatch by sundown — terrorising the baby dragons that wake alone and ripping into local architecture. Other riders are needed to spread a trail of deep incense smoke in the air that can soothe dragons from their outburst. Lend a hand!

■ Characters who enlisted for dragon riding on arrival could be middling riders by this point.

■ Aiva’s children hatch moments before the clock ticks 18:00 and Minaras also surges overground. Characters linked to a dragon feel the birth: first as an overwhelming exuberance, then as an all-consuming and irrational dread that briefly reduces them to inexplicable tears.

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MINARAS | EYES ON YOU

A sharp departure from Eidris’ laissez-faire is watchful Minaras, where citizens obsess with schedules, orderliness and time — as if every second is both borrowed and wasted.

Newcomers can choose between one-person 2.5x2.5m ‘sleep units’ in packed industrial homes, or pool funds to rent small refurbished alcoves that once served as hospital or science halls. Space is a luxury, silence a myth: helper droids constantly fuss after their masters, steam engines cough outside, and the gentle thrum on the streets betrays the current-shifting omnipresence of large Watch ships.

Civic sound systems periodically bleat reminders for citizens to STAY HALE, STAY WHOLE, alongside tips for basic droid care, the latest in scientific discoveries, paid ads and reminders not to park your robotic carriage near hydrants.

■ Quickly learn the ropes of your assumed identity, as Minaraians have a duty to report peculiar behaviours.

■ Watch ships prevent lawbreaking while Minaras is overground. Crime rates spike rapidly when Minaras falls underground.

■ More than violence, Minaraians appear to fear their pocket watch times being wrong, filth and sickness. The smallest cough earns a stern glance and a wide berth.

■ As part of Minaras’ periodic social indoctrination, you are robotically escorted alongside your peers and other unrelated Minaraians to a civic integration centre. Here, you take turns before a mechanical droid sphinx labelled ASCLEPIOS that asks, ”What rots you? and compels an honest answer (this can be emotional, mental or physical sickness, minor or severe).

■ A painless tattoo appears on the back of your hand, listing your Decay (ex: ‘malnourishment,’ ‘a choleric temper’). Others in the indoctrination centre must help you mend through acts of care (ex: cooking you a meal, helping you meditate). The tattoo fades after 72 hours, or once sufficient acts of care have ‘cured’ you.

■ After one week (around 20 August, but feel free to forward date), a transmission from Arabella informs watch, aerial, military and health units that Minaras is changing the daily schedule of its scout ships. The last scouts will now be deployed at 4:15am and return to base by 5:00am.

QUESTIONS

Comments

[chosenbylight]

Mainly I just want to clear whether a rogue droid would be one that could be a threat to people, which sort of breaking what it says in the locations info, "Clockwork droids obey some of the expected laws of robotics: they cannot harm humans or allow humans to come to harm through inaction."

If they have gone rogue though, could they conceivably be breaking this law though? Basically this would be more fun for me to play with, since this is Anduin's assigned role and I don't want to have him stuck this entire time just... Herding essentially.

[groundrules]

I'll be honest, this is one of those things where the main focus on my end was figuring out a way to give a role access to the underworld — a bounty hunter's got that. So I didn't really go out of my way to world build a background to the role, I'm happy for you to do whatever. Mostly I imagined immensely rich people putting bounties on droids that didn't press their ties right or shine their shoes to the correct sparkle, than rogue droid revolutions, myself.

[inferus]

Wrath senses the individual approaching him before he sees him.

It would be impossible not to notice the well of magic energy within a person when it is so strong. It isn't even the first time that he has noticed. The group is small enough, and magic is something he is keenly aware of at all times (Five's cursed mirror, the many individuals with varying levels of magic abilities or supernatural abilities). However, it is the first time this individual has drawn close, which simply increases Wrath's awareness of the well of the magic inside.

He wonders if the man knows. He must. If he comes from a world with magic, there is no reason it wouldn't have come up previously, but how does a person become like this? It must be a dangerous existence in a place where people hunger for more magic. Wrath takes in and releases a slow breath. His expression remains impassive as he looks down at him.

"I like them. They are natural hunters in the wild."

They are, of course, fragile in comparison to the puppies he is accustomed to in Hell, but for the mortal world, they are impressive creatures with natural strategy as part of their hunting tactics.

"And your own thoughts?"

[valeas]

No one approaches them readily in the reception hall, a result that is at odds with the Merchant's request that they all mingle. Thankfully, this also means the aggressive enthusiasm of the traders is first expended elsewhere. Emilia has learned there are perks, sometimes, to walking alongside someone that looks like trouble and gives off an aura of primal danger.

She accepts the golden scarf she is offered, thinking the color — one of his House colors — would suit him better. Studies, too, the droid that greets them with warring suspicion and intrigue. Never has she seen anything quite like it.

"Do you ... sense anything?" she asks him, her own voice lowered as she feigns interest in the stall they approach. She needs to feign little, in truth. His assessment of the technology and resources is correct, and inspires curiosity.

(Where Wrath has no intention of making a purchase, Emilia does note the opiates that are on display. If nothing else, it might be wise to look into learning more of them if she is to be an expert. She doesn't want to be caught unprepared.)

[snowcleave]

Fei manages to keep the confused look off her face as information about the unique situation with Opal is relayed to her, aware that while she might want to object to having to go, she can't, and not for the first time, she's reminded of just how out of her depth she is.

She keeps the bewilderment off of her face right up until the moment she stops in front of the refined-looking young woman, and her loosely balled fist meets her open palm while she offers a brief but polite bow. Once she straightens, Fei is frowning, stepping closer to speak in a low voice.

"I cannot help your dragon find a match." Based on what she was told about the nature of Opal's issue, Fei is sure this won't be a problem, but, just in case the elegant lady is expecting an expert, it's best to remove any doubt as to what she's received instead.

[inferus]

"Exactly. Their goals require eventual cooperation."

Wrath nods his agreement with Wangi's assessment. The goals this group has cannot be met if they are seen as a group to be entirely stamped out. This leaves an effect on the population without preventing the possibility of future talks. In fact, it may motivate those future attacks if people want to avoid feeling so frightened again or a worse attack next time.

"My given role is a detective, and I was placed on this particular case to prevent future attacks." With the distinct impression that it would be on his head if he failed to prevent any further death. "I'm searching for any clues. The windows here show they were previously altered to make the attack easier."

It was carefully planned and coordinated. "It shows the group itself is well versed in strategy. Were you present for the attack?"

[snowcleave]

"Favorite place to fly," Fei repeats the words, testing them out as she glances off to the side and mulls it over. After a moment spent dwelling she hums in approval, patting Xie Yun's shoulder while she nods.

"So smart." Then, because he's given her the idea– "what's my favorite color?"

In truth, if the tables were turned she's not sure she could answer, never having been the sort of person who might value information like that as important until the moment it became grounds for making a match between two dragons. If Xie Yun knew she'd taken to shades of pale yellow, it stood to reason that these trifles were more important than she realized.

[snowcleave]

[ Using her thumb to pop the cork on the bottle she kept for herself Fei takes her time, tilting her head back and having a long drink before righting herself and lowering the wine.

Her cheeks stay puffed out and full for a second between swallows, but once her face is normal and she's cleared her throat, she finally gets around to answering his question. ]

It's a sad place. The people live in filth and have almost nothing.

[ Fei tilts her head toward one of the sacks of stolen food. ]

The woman with the bright hair, Red. She says its name is Robin Hooding. Taking from those with too much to give it to those with nothing at all. Those children and the woman who cares for them have very little, my conscience is clear.

[ Bit of an unsolicited tangent, but that's what happens when a person likes to drink as fast as Fei does. ]

[thedreamer]

The stories they'll tell about us. I'd like to hear those.

[ He knew, of course. The only answer there could possibly be, and the one he wanted to avoid with every fiber of his own being. He would have been happy to avoid it forever. He could have been happy, just happy, with the memory of her and nothing else.

Another lie.

In all of her fussing and touching him, he finally lands on resting one of his hands atop hers, staying her for a moment. ]

Then you shouldn't be here, River. You're not supposed to exist anymore.

[ It sounds perhaps a bit more callous than he means it to, but then, he's not always the best at that. ]

[snowcleave]

There will always be someone stronger, you are right. But they must never know that you know it.

[ That sort of thinking saw Fei through her encounter with Azure Dragon Master, and if what she's heard about what exists in this world is anything to go off of, she's sure she may have to reach for that mindset again, no matter how strong she's become.

When the moment comes and Red gets up to face her first test, Fei stops herself from shouting any more bits of advice at the back of her head once she's on her way. She's not the kind of person to fuss over anyone if she can help herself, and Fei is confident she won't have to lift a finger

Riveted, both admiring and studying every move Red makes so that she can give her pupil an assessment later on, Fei brings a loosely curled fist up to her mouth so she can grin against it, smothering a chuckle when Red lets the poor fools she's crossed paths with know precisely what she thinks of them - and their dicks.

Not bothering to get up until both men have been knocked down, Fei saunters over to Red, not bothering to hide that grin as she puts a hand on Red's shoulder, nodding approvingly at the two oafs on the ground. ]

This is why I have roast duck and good liquor ready. To toast your success.

[ Which is, to say, she never doubted Red for a second. ]

[spoilers]

[ His words still her more assuredly than his hand, and she still can't quite meet his eyes. Instead, she focuses intently on the spot where his hand rests over hers, frozen in place. Her breath falters before the words come, though she'll deny it later. ]

Yes, well, I never was one for following rules. I thought you might be happy to see me.

[ Anger, sharp like a knife's edge, only does so much to obscure the hurt, staggering in its depth. ]

[snowcleave]

[ Fei is doing her best to keep those tiny, fast-moving spear things away from them while dimly aware of the awkward struggle happening behind her. Instead of getting to his feet like someone useful might, Fei swears she can hear the crinkle of paper behind her, and then–

What is he talking about now? Heartbeats?

There's no time to chastise him for not speaking plainly as before she has a chance to register that it's happening his weight falls against her ankles and sweeps her off her feet, leaving her falling backward Youhuang flailing indignantly as she tumbles. ]

Idiot!

[ The word comes in a strangled, harried hiss as Fei twists her legs to liberate them from the heap of Wangji she's been knocked over by. Once freed she lets herself roll back to her knees, and onto her feet, sword swinging as she staggers back into action, a part of her wondering if she's been hit yet and hasn't realized it. ]

[thedreamer]

[ When he gets lost in thought like this, it's easy for him to miss the subtleties in expression of whomever he's speaking with, but at least for now, he doesn't entirely miss the look on her face. A slight change in expression, but one that tells him, at least, he hasn't frightened her off. ]

Then tea we'll have! Plenty of it soon enough.

Now, the lights and the people. It's almost as if they went to sleep. Sort of. Though not a peaceful slumber, no, gripped by momentary terror. They went to sleep when Eidris did, then woke when Minaras did. In a manner of speaking. [ He squints a little, clearly puzzling it out.

That's not quite right, because the two halves were in place then. But maybe there's...something there. ] I used to be quicker at this. When I was young, sharp. I still am, mind. I always get there in the end, maybe just the longer way 'round now.

[spoilers]

Expression dark, she glances back toward the centre. "Oh, I mean to do my best."

River doesn't care to be compelled to do anything, not anymore. She's had her fill of that for one lifetime. She'd been told that was for the best, too.

Her slow sigh at the appearance of Vanessa's droid falls just short of impolite, but she gives him a smile and slight bow of greeting in return before glancing back to Vanessa. This conversation is hardly over, but she dislikes always being watched.

"They are beautiful, aren't they? I sometimes wish I had one, myself." To tear apart and see what makes its mechanical heart tick.

[thedreamer]

[ He's not trying to hurt her. It's the last thing he would ever want to do, but it seems to be his fate when it comes to River. He can never quite get it right.

The problem is, closing off to her, keeping her at arm's length, it's all so very much easier than being happy with her.

For the man who once touted being happy now because of the sadness that would inevitably come, the Doctor isn't very good at all with heeding his own advice. Typical. ]

Happy for how long?

[ The words are right there, words that he knows would comfort, words that he even knows are true.

I'm happy to see you. I'm always happy to see you. Those words are true, truer than she'll ever know if he keeps on like this, but he's trying to spare himself the pain because it hurts so very much.

Yet again, he's very bad at considering her in his approach. ]

[thedreamer]

It's one of the constants of the universe. Those in power never want to let go of it. And often, crave more of it. They can't see or understand that they lose nothing - nothing at all - by helping others. I try to make them see, wherever I go. Sometimes it works.

[ Many times it doesn't. Or at least, not the way he would prefer. But he won't stop trying, not ever. There are people to be helped everywhere, and especially here. As long as that is true - another constant of the universe - the Doctor will never stop. ]

They're comfortable, though, you're right. They don't want to let go of what's familiar to them, the way they've always done it.

[ He's glad to speak with someone of a similar mind, someone who can easily understand what he's trying and hoping to do. Progress can't be made alone. ]

[spoilers]

[ Happy for how long?

The question squeezes the breath out of her lungs, and she thinks, for a moment, she's stepped back away from him. But she hasn't given an inch, her fingers tightening in the material of his jacket.

She should be used to it by now. Her Doctor. Always caring too much, and yet always somehow impossibly selfish when it comes to those closest to him. ]

Apparently not long at all.

[ She's gone stiff, her voice cold, but she can't move away, clinging to his jacket like a lifeline. ]

I might've been dust centuries ago and never have known the difference, but we both know why I'm still here, don't we, Doctor?

[thedreamer]

Licyn! Perfect. Brilliant name. We'll meet up soon. What grand stories we'll have.

[ He does mean this all genuinely. Coming from anyone else, it might sound like over-the-top flattery, but to the Doctor, he's just happy to meet someone new, and possibly make a friend. He could use as many as possible in a place like this especially. ]

Precisely that. Shortly before the many terrible things happened. [ His face darkens a little. He was shot by one of those bullets. He'd still rather not think about it, so he won't. Perfectly fine now. ]

I'd liken it to a temporary amnesia of some sort, but they appeared to be...not even themselves at all. Caricatures, almost. But then all was well. I would have asked more at the time, but I got suddenly very busy.

[thedreamer]

What do you want me to say?

[ It always comes down to that for him. He can't think of the right words. He can feel everything, so deeply and so strongly, and he knows what he feels is good and right, but all those big feelings just sit in his chest and though it should be the easiest thing in the universe to simply say it all out loud, he can't. He messes that up every time.

He wants her to tell him what to say and do. Putting the burden back on her again. Even after she's lost so much, lost everything.

Why does he do this? He tries; he tries so hard to be better at this, and he wants to be, for her sake. ]

What was I supposed to do? Let you go?

[ Now he just sounds a little angry, almost petulant. Not at her, though that would possibly be hard to interpret one way or another. No, his anger is at the inevitability of it all, the pain inherent in their connection. Why. Why must it be that way?

Despite everything he's said, the Doctor still grips one of her hands, his own completely covering it. A tender touch, in contrast with the words that come out sounding so detached and hollow. ]

[weifinder]

A shiver, electric down his spine, the trembling and shaking underfoot an exhalation unmatched by the dark that flickers in with the lights flickering out, so many points in a night sky swallowed by a vaster black. He straightens, fingers twitching, a smile twitching at his lips into a grim reminder of what humour can be found in the dark recesses of any moment, even his worsts.

His husband, separate from soulmate, twinned beings who are relearning the men they've become from the youths they once were, is a warmth and a gifter of wine and words and the certainty, as the liquid pours, that this is no mistake.

"He wasn't wrong to wonder," he says, wine cup shifting from one hand to the other, grasping fingers sliding down to find the edge of Lan Zhan's sleeve, to touch, to curl, to hold. Small movements, meaningful as they are, for the unsettled heart beating within him, no core spun golden in his breast, the senses he'd sacrificed to survive and conquer dulled to uselessness. He stills the melody that claws at the back of his throat, the demand that sits to be made but which cannot be voiced, not now, not so soon, not so uncertainly.

"These are not a people whole, whatever ails them." Death? Curses? Illness? The last makes the least sense, not the disjointed horror of the difference in flicking candlelight and flame, to the smooth certainty of the lights and, and, and...

"The energies that power their mechanical lights failed, and so did they. Lan Zhan," he says, voice soft and honeyrich with the cant of his head, a glance sidelong, a shift closer while he lifts the glass, prepares to drink, "Arrays always have a source."

The watered wine down his throat near steals his breath away.

we be dragons

[weifinder]

"Xie Yun!" The twist of words away from Xie-mei, a passing tease of overintimacy he skips over for the simpler claim to names sans titles, easier in the long run here. He lifts his hand from where he rides astride a white dragon with a displeased squint to its mesmerizing eyes, backwinging to hover in the air rather than land.

"Can we two man, two dragon team to bring in an egg from a roof nook?"

network | audio: yiling laozu

[weifinder]

Yes, to myself and my husband. The people in our area weren't all effected, but a number of them were... odd, wrong, while the what is it called. The word for the lights, how they run... electric? The electric stopped working, and they stopped being right at the same time.

( a snap of his fingers as he says )

The lights returned, and the people who'd gone still and gaping, or jerking around as is suffering some illness, were fine. As if nothing happened. Not one person there aside from us even seemed out of sorts after.

for zhou fei

[weifinder]

The pacing here is fast, as he expects it to be from his own training in unrelated but tangentially similar horseback riding. The dragon bonding has been the strangest part, sharing senses in a way that's less about the tangible world and more the internal one. He'd half believed he wouldn't end up finding such a thing acceptable, or not be likewise acceptable himself.

Granted, he and the dragon working with him have the emotional equivalent of an ongoing banter-prank system happening, whose most recent Event was the watering trough dump that morning, where his dragon had managed to 'innocently' body check him into a half-filled trough waiting for a cleanout. Then had sent amusement at him while he stomped back over and wetly tossed himself over the dragon's neck, complaining that if Lethe had got him in this state, it was Lethe's responsibility to warm him back up again.

Now, wearing riding leathers and furs and with Lethe in full flight harness himself, they waited their turn behind Zhou Fei and her dragon companion.

"Make everyone gasp!" He calls out as encouragement from behind, flashing her a big grin if she looks back his way. "Or curse, either way!"

[bravelyrunsaway]

Licyn lifts a brow at the statement, smiling with his teeth barely flashing in the process.

"In which case you must be fond of predators in general, given they're all natural hunters in the wild, and inclined toward it even in captivity." Not a preferred state for any wild creature, and dangerous for the animal and the keeper, but also: nobility and rich merchants are nothing if not remarkably certain that enough money makes any stupid decision less dangerous because they wish it to be so.

It's also irrelevant, and so he settles back with a hum and too much awareness of his companion's sheer presence, tension slow to ease by sheer force of will.

"I'm biased, love. Also not prone to self-hatred, so I'd have to say I'm very fond of them myself."

Hellhounds, thankfully, not being anything he'd contended with, though some did feel his packmate must have been one, what with his size and the strange asocial nature he had. Lone wolves were not kind existences; Licyn couldn't imagine being one himself, even if he was at that crux of a problem in the here and now.

Would have been a nice tattoo as well, if it were more true than what lay on him otherwise.

[bravelyrunsaway]

Grand from you, I'm certain, from me? I'm but a simple mercenary, most my tales are either very small or very bloody.

( A likewise genuine evaluation, though conversation is an easy enough tool in the end. He's sober in expression in a way he'd prefer not to need to be, but this whole thing unnerved him. Without the option to get out of the searing citadel entirely, he's forced to stand ground and deal, while likewise trying not to make himself a target.

Only this, whatever this is, doesn't feel targeted at them. More a targeted... something. )

There was something of an assassination attempt and all the weapons and the fog, some mechanical beasts, very angry people... hah! Love, if any of us weren't busy at that point, we hadn't attended that summit at all.

( but a grimace, and a wrinkling of his nose as he considers. )

Nothing smelled off in a way I noted at the time, and it was before the fear was messing with everything else. It unsettled me, I admit it, and not one of the people running around lighting candles and holding up lamps seemed to find any of it odd. Or seem to even see it, and not just in the hired help paid to be ignored and witness all the stupidities of their employers without comment.