eastbound | Entries tagged with dragon quest xi s: eleven

I have access to forges. If anyone's weapon needs sharpened or reinforced before we leave, it isn't much trouble.

I also have a fair bit of spare steel now, if there's a need for custom weaponry. Of course, I don't have the materials to manage anything enchanted, but I'm a moderately skilled blacksmith otherwise.

eyeofthavnair

My fellow travelers. Before our guide asks us to move on from this...ah, relatively peaceful place, I have been wondering about your experiences with undead. What we saw in Serthica was not like the undead that I know of from my home world. Mayhap this is to be expected, when we are so far from the familiar...but I am curious if such an observation holds true for you as well.

So...do you have undead where you are from? What are they like? How did they come to be?

On Etheirys, most undead are classified as “ashkin”. There are some created by necromancers – that is, illegally created, of course – but others occur naturally. Festering humours, or lingering memories and unresolved feelings...anything that prevents the creature from returning to the Lifestream upon death.

...so - that is my understanding of undead. Will you tell me yours?

bearshermark

[An aggrieved breath brushes through Eleven's crystal. He sounds tired and annoyed in the moment, as though speaking directly to someone of something]

I'm trying to grow things, here.

For Goddess' sake, I only just planted this patch yesterday.

[He sighs, temper easing, though his voice remains underscored by a thread of tension]

..Has anyone found anything about the dark waters? How to remove them or purify them or.. something. I've been working around them much as I can, but something will surely need to be done to clear it up if this village is going to thrive after we've gone.

[He's going to leave one place better than they found it okay.

..Maybe. Hopefully]

chosenbylight

Greetings, friends.

I am hoping that you might be able to help me with a bit of advice.

[It's definitely not similar enough to Anduin's own personal dilemmas to have caught his attention and tugged extra hard on his heartstrings, don't look at him like that.]

There is a young girl in the village who comes to the wise man's house, asking for advice. Most of the other visitors are only there to unburden themselves of the frustrations of their day, but her situation stands out in particular.

This girl's family has arranged for her to be married since she was but a child. It is, as most such arrangements are, more of a trade negotiation than a love match. She has tried to put the marriage off for as long as she can, but she is of marrying age and her family is growing impatient.

The crux of the matter is that the girl is in love with another village boy. One from a family her parents most certainly would not approve of any sort of relationship with. She does not wish to upset her parents, they are depending on this arranged marriage to shore up their family's well-being for years to come.

If she does her duty, she may never be happy. But if she follows her heart, her family may suffer the consequences of her actions.

What should she do?

bearshermark

What good things have happened since you've come here?

[Please tell him there are some good things]

pulvisetumbra

( Some might recognise the calm, glacial voice. Others might despise it. ) Good afternoon. For those whose acquaintance I have failed to make already: I am the Merchant.

It seems several of you have misunderstood your remit. You were sent to the ruins of Ellethia to grasp the stakes of our enterprise, and why your role in ensuring there is no repetition of this catastrophe is critical. You were assigned in hopes that next you are told those who willingly inflict the dead upon innocents deserve retaliation, you will heed your instruction.

Instead, you have opted to meddle. It is in your natures. I have come to accept it. But there are lines that should not be crossed — ones you have trampled with impunity.

( A pause, while he collects himself. ) Our associate Enam informs me that you have taken it upon yourselves to terminate the lives of the... sleeping tower dwellers. without cause, remit or invitation. Perhaps slaughter is commonplace in your homelands. I have clearly miscalculated your appetite for bloodshed.

No matter. You have killed good men and women. Ensure that you dispose of their bodies at sea, before the cycles of the land inevitably wake them. I trust, seeing as you had no qualms in ending their lives, you will be equal to the task of disposing them.

I expect our friend Zenobius will now have to seek out an alternative to his life's work. A pity.

( Silence, as if the Merchant might have neglected to end his communication. When he speaks, it's deeper, forcibly collected: ) Should that happen, seek out stored supplies, forage and maintain the wells. Your ship arrives within days. I bid you well on the next leg of your journey.

( ooc: in response to Moiraine, Eleven and Yennefer's decision to euthanise the Sleepers: on 11 February, characters may notice Zenobius is no where to be found. Characters can find him in a deep sleep akin to that of the Sleepers, at the bottom of one of the semi-dried wells previously inspected by Kaneki and John Connor.

Over 11-13 February, characters may notice the garden legumes and food supplies stop replenishing. They may have to leave the lighthouse to hunt for their sustenance. Water can still be procured from wells.

The voices and echoes that haunt the lighthouse become even more vocal, if not yet more violent.

The ship arrives to collect to group on 14 February. )

sergeant_slick

[Hi everybody, it's your friendly neighborhood clone in a boat. He's on candle watch.]

Hey. Boredom's chewing holes in my brain right now, so let's play a stupid game I just made up: Just guess my age. Anybody who gets the year right on the first try wins bragging rights. If you get the month right too, you get to be fleet admiral. [That's something you can be for a bunch of dinghies, right?]

Also--anybody got any paint? Bonus points if it's waterproof. [He's got plans. Completely frivolous plans.]

flirtatiousdancer

For living on the road, we have the night watches covered. I was wondering who else is able in terms of cooking? What supplies will be available? I can fish or catch animals as needed. You will find meals with me in charge to be quite delicious.

[ Yes, he is that cocky. And confident. After all, his A-Xu will be eating what he cooks, so it must taste good. ]

If there are any foods people cannot eat, it would make most sense to make them known to me. Unless you wish to fend for yourself.

elfuego

Since we're moving again getting lookouts organized to keep watch while the group is sleeping is a smart idea. I'm volunteering myself if anyone else wants to help out that's fine. Let me know, we can figure out shifts.

chosenbylight

[Anduin stands, holding his pendant in his hand. His is a face that likely only a handful of those in the city will recognize -- and he is rather counting on that fact.

He smiles, looking somewhat tired and worn but aren't we all these days?]

Good evening, my friends. I apologize for bringing such trivial questions to you, however I fear that being one of the lucky few to newly arrive in the city, I do not share your history of knowledge.

[He is trying not to speechify. ~~Unlike some people, Wrathion.~~ Is it working? He will try harder.]

Of late there has been much discussion of justice, especially with regards to Bonaccorso and his niece and nephew. But what of the rest of the nobility? I have heard, for instance, there is a noblewoman who is rumored to have supplied weapons to the brotherhood as payment for Taravast's survival? Should such a person be held responsible for the consequences of her actions? Or, as with Macaluso, do we turn a blind eye to such acts themselves when taken for the greater good?

[Is he fishing for opinions on donna Rigarda? You bet he is. Is his innocent newbie act working for you? Look at these Big Blue Eyes...]

blackscales

The Honourable Wrathion
In Service of the Esteemed Macaluso Spina
Speaking Only Their Truth and Their Wisdom
Humbly Puts before the Piazza:

We have asked ourselves before what defines a ruler. We have asked why concerns were being brushed away. Taravast has long been known as a good and safe citadel. The sons of greatness, a mixed people who come together and make a place that is truly the envy of many. Where else could one see such incredible things? Only Taravast. Its citizens are proud.

Now, we see a dark truth.

Bonaccorso Spina has turned against the people.

First his nephew, imprisoned under false charges. Now the people plead with him and he calls them spoiled, shameless! For wanting homes repaired. For wanting safety, and food to eat. He sets the witches of Bessis to rain down fire on those who beg him for help.

Bonaccorso Spina may have once been a great man, but his own mortality has twisted him. A fear of death, of legacy. He cares not for you, not for Taravast, but for himself. What kind of man turns fire on his own citizens? Is this righteous?

You may believe this cannot be true. I wish I could say it was not so, that I had not seen so many lives wasted.

A child cannot be held responsible for the sins of their father.

Macaluso and Vannozza are as much victims of Bonaccorso Spina's crimes as we were. They have been imprisoned, threatened, used. Perhaps we should ask ourselves, what did Macaluso know that caused him to be locked away? Did he try to reason, to plead our case, to seek justice? What pain he must have gone through!

Honourable citizens of Taravast, we live in dark times -- but you are strong, and darkness helps us appreciate light all the more. Taravast will rebuild, and will see peace again. Yet for this to happen it must unite. Today, Taravast has reached a turning point in its history. It will meet the future head on, and build it brighter than ever. Take solace in this, and know that Don Macaluso will see Taravast strong once more.

May All Good People Hear, May All Good People Know!
May Fortune Ever Favour Taravast!

[ ooc; respond via network or piazza as you like, just let me know which as Wrathion is obviously... playing a role on piazza ]

flirtatiousdancer

Before speaking with the healers of this fair city, I wish to reach out to my fellow travelers. It is a delicate nature, hence this missive instead of the other features I have been informed are available.

In short, I am in need of the arts of a master healer. Someone familiar with healing spiritual meridians. I have only just arrived, so am short on funds for the moment, but there is precious little time before it is too late.

My word is good. This is too important for me to lie about. In exchange for this service immediately, you may name your price and I will see it done in haste.

inferus

( Wrath has learned a lot of shit recently after months of trying to understand and exploring many different avenues, the most important being Wen Qing's inspections of Vannozza and his own investigations. He knows he has to inform the rest of the group before he makes his next move. That is the difference between living on this mortal plane instead of within Hell itself where he has far more power. There is a group to take into consideration.

At first, the video opens with nothing but a visual of the locked, hidden room. The video lingers on the altar beds, the potions and goblets of opiates, and then the piles of servant clothing and bird feathers in the corner. )

I'm in a secret, locked room within Bonaccorso's library. The Attaryl have been lengthening the lives of the Doxe for some time. Now they work on transferring a spirit from one body to the next without killing the original body and destroying one spirit in the process, which is the current result of their experimentation.

( He is quiet, serious, jaw locked though the camera is not on him. This is an affront to Death itself - his other name. )

Their efforts have come with a clear cost. ( He keeps the video pointed toward the pile of clothing and bird feathers, and it does not change course for the remainder of the video- let them see the cost. ) Many have died in this room.

I believe they mean to transfer Bonaccorso's spirit into Vannozza's body. Her spirit feels as if it is peeling from her body. The question is what to do with this truth.

( Ultimately, Wrath is ancient and powerful, and he will go with what he feels is best because mortals are fallible, but he wants to know what the group thinks. )

softheartedshizun

[ Shen Qingqiu seems to be in a state, at least roughed up a little and restrained, the movement implies there is travel happening. ]

I am a little worried... Eleven and I have been detained and are on our way somewhere.... My guess is the destination is not good, and if you don't hear from us after this... well....

[ Where was an easy mode when you needed one! This wasn't fair! Give him a break! ]

Assume the worst I suppose.

bearshermark

If you need help, please ask for it. The people that care about you won't think less of you for it. They'll be relieved and honored that you trust them.

And if you think no one cares about you, you're wrong. I care about you. I'll look after you, if no one else will. I won't tell anyone.

Everyone can benefit from a little kindness sometimes. It's nothing shameful. There's too little of it here.

[General advice or one very specific call-out? who knows~]

aprescoup

( In a rare turn, a restless Macaluso and a pale but resolute Vannozza Spina appear to make a public front before the Piazza, in a speech broadcast across all communicators. Macaluso addresses the people first: )

Good people of Taravast. These are not the faces we hoped to show you today. We had intended to make our final pleads and prove our worthiness before you. But we do not step before a free and joyous Taravast. Today, on our way to the markets, we walked on corpses and ruins. I would like us all to observe a moment of silence for our suffering, our heroes, our fallen and our loved ones.

( Respect, awe or fear of the Spina guards see Macaluso’s plea obeyed. Vannozza continues: )

How beautiful you are, strong things. How stoic and determined. I admire you. One and all who have survived, despite the treachery of the moment. Despite those who have sold us. Despite the man who have failed their duties. Know this: my cousin speaks our truth. Today, we both ask every man, woman, child, cripple and magician of Taravast, the living, the dead and those transitioning to join hands and assist our efforts to rebuild. As you know, when my parents passed...

( Macaluso intercedes: ) When our parents passed, Vannozza.

( Vannozza laughs: ) Yes, but you’re not giving away your dowry. When my parents passed, they left behind a not insignificant fortune of 500,000 gold pieces, so that I might make my way in this world, as a gentlewoman. But you will not find me gentle. I hereby put this money towards healing houses, homes of fresh shelter and alms. It is not a loan, and it is not a donation. Taravast is my home. I do not loan to myself, and I do not donate to myself. The Lady Emilia has further graciously added her own fortunes. I ask everyone who has bound themselves to my name to pledge 20,000 pieces to the same cause and produce them within the month.

( Macaluso appears briefly ill at ease — surprised, but rushing to rest his hand on his cousin’s elbow to support her: ) ...of course. We will take this aid and couple it with new wisdom. The old ways of Taravast have led us here, my friends. The corruption, the underground transactions, the isolation. We cannot have this further. We must open our arms and our hearts to those who bring us new knowledge, new experiences, even to foreigners, who can -

( Vannozza once more, laughing: ) And what will you give them, Macaluso? If they did not come for love of you days ago when we were attacked, what will they come for now? Our magic? Our witches? Look around you! We have scraps, we have dogs. We are... no. We will not be Ellethia. We will have curfews. I declare it, in my grandfather’s name. Any man who roams the streets with undue cause past midnight faces prison. Anyone who homes or harvests the dead will be hanged. We will have reckonings. I will know why each of our sorcerers failed us, I will know why we have walls and the power to stop death and raise fire, but we were caught out like rats in the rain. I want an account of every man’s power and learning and identity. I want our sorcerers to remember they are foremost the servants of their people. And I want every nightmare creature and risen dead man burned.

( Macaluso opens his mouth to object, but Vannozza has already retreated, and the communication ends without the typical boisterous enthusiasm of the piazza. )

( OOC: neither Vannozza nor Macaluso will be responding. Threadjack away and plan your next moves ICly. Consider responses to this post private to the character network and unreadable by NPCs. Shortly after this communication, characters will notice:

a curfew is now in place, between midnight and 6am

Guards ask a tally of everyone’s abilities (feel free to lie) and seem generally apprehensive of and brusque with magic users

Openly declared necromancers will be treated coldly

Vannozza and Macaluso require their supporters to contribute towards rebuilding Taravast )

softheartedshizun

A question, what to do with a massive ammount of magical weapons that were supposedly intended for the undead and intercepted by agents of Macaluso. Advice appreciated. ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ

wooden_one

The Honourable Chu Wanning
In Service of the Esteemed Macaluso Spina
Speaking Only Their Truth and Their Wisdom
Humbly Puts before the Piazza:

What defines a city--a ruler if not how their most vulnerable are treated? For servants to disappear without explanation or investigation, what does that say about those running this city? Those who should offer protection and justice to those working under them? What does it say that those who are vulnerable feel they need to seek sanctuary from a stranger to the city?

And then to have their concerns brushed off as them wanting money without further investigation even when the person disappears? In a city with so much knowledge and wealth, why are there still people who suffer this way? Only because they are servants?

If the people here will not fight for them then I will. I had failed to provide the sanctuary that maid sought and I will carry that failure with me. But know this: I will not stop until I've given them justice. I will get to the bottom of this no matter what it takes.

May All Good People Hear, May All Good People Know!
~~May Fortune Ever Favour Don Bonaccorso!~~

video; un: yuheng; to other characters only

[He looks as he always does, except his coldness seems more angry than his usual aloofness.]

Two servants from Don Bonaccorso's wing have gone missing, most likely killed. The second maid....it was my fault. I was asked for sanctuary and protection and I failed to keep her safe. [He admitted it without hesitation even though the guilt and self-loathing was eating him alive. He failed and another had to bare the consequences. But he's more angry than he is sad (right now, right now he has to focus on that anger).] But in that case, I have a responsibility to give her justice, to at least find her body and give her a proper burial and make those responsible pay for their actions.

I-- [This part is hard. He has no problem admitting guilt but admitting he needed help? That felt impossible. But this wasn't about him. He had a duty.] I need help. The healers I interrogated weren't lying when they said they didn't know what was going on, but like this I have no leads left to follow.

scrapgege

So, I talked to An- to Haltham.

[Is it a good idea to use Anurr's name on the network? Probably not, so let's stick to the other one. Most people know who this refers to anyway.]

Now, I'm not saying we should do what he asked because well, these people are still people, and they were enslaved a long time, and it feels only fair that they should be able to choose what they want to do with themselves.

But he says he might be able to help with their pain.

Except he also said that he doesn't know yet how.

.... That's not very helpful, is it? Sorry.

downswing

( Pictured: young master Lan, blood-drenched and saddled by five exceptionally rotund and angry chickens in a gondola that drifts merrily along one of the canals.

At his feet: a swarm of coins, a corset dress, and... pastries. Beside him, fettered and muffled, is a seemingly rabid undead, who sometimes remembers to kick at the rope-bound oar convulsively and row them onwards in the dusky horizon.

It appears master Lan has forgotten the art of blinking. Possibly, until he croaks out sound, that of speech: )

The witches. ( A pause, spanning a lifetime. He seems... to drift asleep? No. No, he's startling himself awake again: ) Answered. ( What did they say, Wangji, don't fall aslee — ) ...inquiry.

( ooc: just after the the warehouse incident, where ~~pocket~~ Lan ~~Zhan~~ Wangji's box was submerged in alcohol during transport. He has 'captured' one of the warehouse dead and... useless loot. Content warning: drunk Lan Wangji. )

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Entries tagged with dragon quest xi s: eleven

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