Tidecleft: Edge of the Storm (IC)

[Jerry]

Castle Briarcroft

"...I am not afraid of you. You need not be so cautious."

"Glad to hear it. I'm going to start off looking at your pupils." He reached into his bag and took a small candlestick with a half melted candle in it and deftly struck it alight with his flint. He the flame up near the stranger's eyes, peering intensely as the light neared them. He put the candle down nearby and withdrew a wooden tube about ten inches long and tapered on one end. Veridian placed the larger end upon the bald person's chest.

"Take a deep breath for me please. And another." He listened to each lung in return before he returned the tube to his bag and sat back on his heels and regarded them.

"Is there anything you can tell me about your life before you washed out of the sea?" He shifted slightly.

"I don't mean to pry, but I can't help to wonder what will become of you without any kin or attachments. These folks have been very kind." He motioned to Everly and Senna.

"But you'll be needing somewhere to stay long-term. Now hear me out." He raised his empty hands.

"You can stay with me, I live nearby and there's plenty of room, and privacy. I do house calls, for the most part. All I would ask is that you let me keep an eye on your lungs for a couple of days and play some memory games with me. Nothing too onerous, I promise." He grinned.

"But it might be enough to jumpstart your memory. You'd be free to come and go as you please, of course."

Spoiler: OOC to Dorizzit

Show

I will leave what Veridian saw in Ancala's pupils to you. If they fail to constrict, then he could have a concussion but I'll leave that up to you.

[Dorizzit]

[Castle Briarcroft]

"Mmh."

The stranger is cooperative, if surly, with the exam. Their body...less so. None of the tests respond in the way they should. The stranger's eyes do indeed constrict, but they do so vertically, looking quite a bit like those of a reptile before the exam finishes. When the stranger breathes in, Veridian can hear muscular movement, but it sounds heavily distorted and simply wrong compared to what it should. Moreover, he can hear a sloshing noise as if a substantial quantity of water was still in the stranger's lungs, or at least that area of the body. The water, too, sounds different than it should for being in the lungs.

"No, I remember nothing. My earliest memories are of being trapped. I escaped and ended up here."

They consider Veridian's offer only briefly.

"I appreciate your offer, but I cannot accept it."

For a moment, it seems like they're about to elaborate, but they think better of it and say nothing more.

[Lleban]

Sunday Afternoon
The Gilded Oar.....Brunch time

On his way to the inn Duggin ponderedWhatever that magic dot was, it'll have to wait till later. Riots really make a guy hungry.

Soon after he walked in cautiously, his bright green uniform clashing with the blood on the sleeves of his uniform, and even more against the inn's homely interior.

As he entered in the room was silent. Not a sinister silence, but a profound awkwardness so intense, even the most social of butterflies would wish to enter cocoons once more. For what seemed like an eternity, or roughly 2 minutes Duggin stood in the parlor conflicted on whether it was a good idea to proceed further. Spotting Owen Duggin decided to break the silence.Besides I've made it through at least 4 mugging attempts today whats the worst that could happen Duugin though as he half shouted "Owen do I have a story for you. Get me some lunch and I'll tell ya about the greatest Salt Graves anyone's EVER SEEN!"

Owen looked skeptical as Duggin placed himself firmly at the edge of the bar. "Duggin my boy....I thought you hated the salt graves. Don't tell me you went to steal.

Duggin chuckled "Hey hey, I'd only steal from nobles who deserve it. Any noble who has what I want deserves it. Besides I made money legitimately today, just selling , no adventuring, no theft."

Owen poor a large mug of beer and slide it to Duggin "Ya know I'm almost proud of ya, tell me what happened at the Graves."

[Jerry]

Castle Briarcroft

"I appreciate your offer, but I cannot accept it."

Disappointment entered the doctor's face briefly as the stranger rebuked his invitation. His motives, while partially altruistic, also were moved by wishing to study the odd person's unique physiology more closely. Veridian was both shaken and fascinated by what he had discovered during the exam but ultimately kept his word and did not press the issue, nor did he mention the variations to the Ladies present.

"Very well. I will prescribe you a tea to help clear your lungs." He again went to his bag and began to pull out various dried herbs.

"This is eucalyptus, lungwort, elecampane and peppermint." He crushed the leaves together in a mortar as he spoke.

"I will give you enough for a week, make a tea twice a day and drink it hot." He packaged up his remedy and handed it over to the stranger along with a small card that had his name and address on it.

"Now I don't know who trapped you but if you ever need help or find yourself without a place to stay, that's where you'll find me." He arose to his feet and cast a warm smile to Everly and Senna.

"Is there anything else I can do for you ladies while I am here?"

[lt_murgen]

Artur came aware gradually. He didn’t hurt, didn’t really feel anything. Agatha must have used some powerful analgesics on his wounds. He glanced about the dimly lit room, trying to get his bearings. The room was packed with chests- big chests, small chests, chests on the tables, on the floor, stacked on top on one another. He was still lying on the table near the front of the room. The storage room of Agatha’s shop, he realized. Right where she left him. Someone, Agatha probably, had covered him with a heavy blanket. Which was a good thing, since he seemed to be naked underneath it. Obviously, he rationalized, Agatha must have sent is bloodied trousers out to wash.

Voices from the storefront beyond the partially closed door must have been what awakened him. One was clearly Agatha. He could pick her chirping cadence out of a crowd of voices. The other, a low and adenoidal man’s voice, was quite strident.

”But just look at it! It has to be worth more than my bill!” He urged, sounding all tight and squeaky. [b]”Leifsson’s Philter Codex. Scribed by Maxim Volkov.”

”I am well aware of the value of Leifsson’s Philter Codex. Particularly one scribed by Volkov. I don’t dispute its value.”

The mention of the title caught Artur’s interest. That was a rare book indeed. He knew only of a half dozen of the beautifully illustrated tomes in Tidecleft.

”Then you’ll take it? Settle my tab?”

” I said I don’t dispute its value, only its provenenance.”

”Province?”

”Prov-en-ence! Where you got it.” She shot back angrily.

”It is genuine! Really. See, here on the inside front cover. It was stamped as genuine by an expert.

”And you just happened to come into possession of this right after Sir and Lady Valutin’s accident.” The accusation was clear in her tone.

Artur knew exactly, now, what Agatha suspected. The Valutin’s received a beautiful crystal apothicarium and a rare book on herbal treatments as a wedding gift. Artur had verified the authenticity of the book himself. That was his stamp on the inside wooden cover. And Agatha had provided several of the ingredients to populate the various jars and flasks of the accompanying apothicarium.

”I had nothing to do with the accident. May Rydos sink me if I lie.” He swore, sounding even more nasally than ever.

”No, merely scoured the scene of a horrific tradegy for your own profit!” She snapped. ” “Ghoul. Take your tainted wares and go. Give it to Sir Wallace, if you have an ounce of scruples rattling around in your mangey head.” Something slammed, a heavy book being closed. Moments later, he heard the door bell chime, followed by a loud slamming of the exterior door.

He found himself pleased, if not surprised. That tome was worth quite a bit to most book lovers. To someone who truly understood its history, it was worth a small fortune. His authentication fee alone was likely more than Agatha made in a week. He always admired her steadfast dedication to principle.

”Oh, you are awake. Good. Try not to move. Thirty one stitches, Master Nicolsecu. Twenty from a rusty blade, and the rest from your sheer stubbornness.” She told him sternly.

He felt his side. It was bandaged thickly, with several circles of wrapping around his entire abdomen. “Thank you, Widow Walters. Your skills are as masterful as ever.” He sat up slowly, though, as if daring her to stop him. “But if you could return my clothing, I will take my leave.”

“As your medic, I cannot allow you to go anywhere until you heal.” She responded primly. “But as your friend, I’ll help you up to my rooms. You can rest where I can keep an eye on you.” She finished comfortingly.

“My clothes?”

She inclined her head and smiled mischeviously.

Spoiler: Plot ticket

Show

The death of Sir and Lady Valutin was a tradgedy to some, an opportuinity to others. By time anyone official arrived on scene, the wreckage and bodies had been stripped of valuables by opportunists.
What did they see? What did they take? Who might be afraid of what they know

[Nefarion Xid]

Castle Briarcroft, Salon

"Basil."

The castle butler had been too busy screaming into a blue velvet throw pillow to notice his master's approach. Surprised by the sudden voice behind him, Basil reared back with the pillow, ready to defend himself with two pounds of cotton batting, or at least vent his frustration by clobbering an unlucky maid. When he saw it was Briarcroft, the color drained from his face, the pillow fell from his hand, and he went for an embrace.

"Your Grace! You're alive! You're ... oh no you're hurt!" Inches away from the duke's chest, Basil pulled at the bloody linen shirt to examine it in microscopic detail.

"Those bastards! Those stinking rat bastards! Animals!" The first part of his tirade was directed at the stains three inches from his face. He then pulled away to shake his fist at the east facing window. "You'll hang for this! Filthy, reeking, manky, illiterate swine!"

"I'm fine," Alden said flatly, attempting to peel his butler's fingers off of his now wrinkled shirt.

"I'll string you up myself, you delinquents!"

"I'm fine. I'm unhurt. This isn't my blood."

Basil returned his gaze to his master, then to the shirt. He hesitated, then leaned in to inspect the stains once more, giving them an experimental sniff, momentarily convinced he could smell the difference between noble and commoner blood. He gave a satisfactory nod and at least released the shirt so he could assume a more dignified stance with his hands folded at the small of his back.

"Course it isn't. I never doubted you for a moment, my lord. You're perfectly capable of defending yourself against these plebeian pugilists. Spot of tea? I've just put the kettle on."

"Where is everyone? Did you see about Master Nicolescu?"

"They've gone up to Miss Clark's study. They're rather concerned about the health of the bald one wearing my pajamas."

"What?"

"Oh, it's nothing. I shan't want them back. They've sent for a Doctor Stimme. I believe Master Nicolescu was dropped off along the way. Had some physician he preferred. Can't imagine why. I did serve fifteen years as an army ..."

"Bolt in the thigh. Yes, Basil. I'm certain one of these days you'll have the opportunity to stitch me up," the duke lied. He didn't intend to put himself in danger with verbena in his system ever again. If the trickle of dried blood and laceration at the corner of his mouth were any indication, he'd at least taken one right hook today, plebeian or otherwise. "I'll have some of that tea and a new shirt now. Bring them up to the study. That means tea for everyone."

Basil didn't have time to offer further platitudes before he duke has stripped off his shirt, draped it over the butler's shoulder, and started up the tower stairs.

Castle Briarcroft, Senna's Apartment

The duke knocked politely on the door, despite it having been left open and this being his ancestral home. Since the last time they'd seen him, he'd evidently lost a shirt and regained an amulet. He stood in the doorway, naked from the waist up spare a few burgundy splotches on his alabaster skin. Despite his unhealthy complexion, the duke had a defined, muscular physique. He must have had a dedicated exercise schedule between the hours of 2 and 4 AM.

[BladeofObliviom]

Outside the Salt Graves, Late Sunday Morning

Riots are a surprisingly common occurrence at the Salt Graves. Not at this scale, of course, but smaller-scale panics do happen, especially after upsets. One man beats the odds, and a lot of people suddenly find themselves poorer; it only takes a few opportunists to rouse the rabble, as it were. They also usually happen after the day's first event.

With this in mind, the Guard's late arrival makes a bit more sense. Not only did the riot happen at least an hour earlier than Captain Verdyn was actually prepared for, it was also significantly larger than he was prepared for. So, by the time he was able to marshal the five dozen guards he considered necessary to suppress this mess, the Salt Graves were on fire, the rioters were beginning to spill out into the streets, and someone had loosed a tiger into the stands.

All this would be bad enough if the King weren't personally attending the event, but surely the Royal Guard could handle their own job.


The Guard marched down the waterfront streets anxiously, clockbows at the ready. This wasn't the first time Constable Vane had been in charge of a patrol before, but it was the first time she was expected to command one quite this large. Still, as situations go, this was the easy sort to deal with; no hard questions, just a simple problem to deal with and a lot of flexibility with regard to how to go about it. The first rioters spotted were just opportunistic looters, most of whom ran or surrendered at the first opportunity rather than face the guards' bolts and rapiers. One particularly panicky individual rushed the front of the formation with a rock, and was quickly turned into a pincushion. Unfortunate.

The Graves themselves were a bloodbath already, though many of the remaining rioters scattered as soon as Constable Vane gave the order to arrest everyone. She knew they'd never succeed in actually arresting everyone, but the threat of it was enough to shake some people back to their senses. She ordered one group of guards to set up a firebreak, to move cushions and such away from the main blaze so that they could not catch flame, and sent the rest of the guard patrols off to arrest anyone who didn't flee.

She was almost surprised when one opportunist decided to try and rush her from the side with an improvised club. The implement of violence hit hard against her back, though she'd managed to twist out of the worst of it. It's not like she'd never felt pain before. Constable Lillian Vane was hardly some delicate armchair commander, and instead of gasping in shock or pain she simply grabbed the man by the wrist and bent his arm backward. She glanced him over as he screamed in pain: A young Pravian man with dark hair and an animalistic desperation in his eyes. Just another desperate fool.

She broke his nose with a right hook, and left him on the ground. He was still breathing, and that'd have to be enough.


She sighed. The Guard could only be so effective, but things were beginning to simmer down already. At least the strangest rumors had proven to be false; no ghostly army or horde of locusts to be seen. Still, there was a lot of blood; they'd likely be cleaning up bodies all day. She wondered how many would get a proper funeral and how many would just be tossed onto the arena floor, to be swept up by the tides.

There was more to do, of course. The firefighting efforts were ongoing, though she could only see smoke now. She'd still have to take a few men into the cells area to deal with any loose beasts and find anyone trapped below. And then she'd have to take everyone left in, and then start conducting interviews...

Lillian was already tired, and there were many more hours of work to go. But that's just how it was, some days.

Spoiler: Plot Ticket

Show

Yeah, the Guard shows up to 'save the day'. Shame the day was already pretty well-ruined, but at least the situation is contained.

[Dorizzit]

[Castle Briarcroft]
Study

The stranger, who has remained more or less in one position since being awoken, tilts their head to the side as Alden enters the room. They stare, rather intently, at Alden's chest for several seconds. At the conclusion, the pull at the neck of their own shirt and look down.

"Hm."

[Mary_Sue]

Castle Briarcroft

"You're back." Senna exclaimed the obvious stupidly in her surprise. Her eyes trailed down to the duke's bare chest and she quickly looked away. She supposed the view might be quite interesting if one was into muscular male physiques. Her glance reflexively fell upon Everly as though to gauge her interest in the display before she collected her thoughts.

"I am very glad. Perhaps we should move downstairs now that Dr. Stimme is finished with his patient?" She address the stranger upon the ground.

"You are welcome to rest here as long as you need. I for one would like some tea, and perhaps lunch." Now that the crisis was over, she suddenly realised she was quite hungry.

[Nefarion Xid]

Castle Briarcroft, Senna's Apartment

"For the night," Briarcroft added haltingly. He knew well the dangers of inviting a mysterious stranger into your home. "And in the apartment across the hall. I will see about finding more suitable accommodations in the morning." He meant in the servants' quarters.

Alden considered softening his tone, then thought better of it. He was the master here. "Perhaps I can find you some work once you're on your feet. Most of the staff positions have been filled, but I trust you're capable of tending to the garden?" He looked expectantly at the amnesiac, hoping he'd at least retained the ability to identify a spade.

[PepperP.]

Castle Briarcroft, Senna's Apartment

Everly looked up from Alden's chest to his face at his haughty tone. His offer of servitude to the stranger reminded her of her own servant.

"I share in Senna's relief to have seen you arrive home safely, Your Grace. James managed to find you, I hope? I must get home straight away and let father know that I am alright." She favored the doctor a gracious smile.

"Thank you so much for your swift attendance today, Dr. Stimme. I shall have to tell Grandfather Everett of our adventures when I see him tomorrow."

[Nefarion Xid]

Castle Briarcroft, Senna's Apartment

"Oh, yes," the duke said, giving Everly a pleasant half-smile. "James is quite dedicated. The streets are mad, but he waited for me faithfully. I gave him a bit of money for his trouble."

"And I have hard cider and mulled wine for Miss Clark as well. Given the weather, I think they'd better chill for a while, but perhaps we'll get into them after dinner?" Feeling only a little guilty about his tone, he'd made a stop along the way and 'convinced' a shopkeeper to let him have two bottles on credit and to tip his driver.

"Basil was bringing tea up, but I'll have him set it out in the parlour along with some sandwiches."

[Mary_Sue]

Castle Briarcroft,
My Apartment

"The parlour sounds ideal, thank you." Her tone was relieved, though at whether it was due to the group vacating her personal rooms or Everly leaving the proximity of the handsome, shirtless Duke, could not be known.

"Dr. Stimme, I would be happy to pay for your services today, if you leave me an invoice." Business dealt with for the moment, she turned to Everly.

"May I see you in the hallway a moment?" Once they had a small modicum of privacy from the others, she whispered to the other woman.

"Later?"

[Dorizzit]

[Castle Briarcroft]

The stranger stares at Briarcroft for several seconds, seemingly not understanding his words. After a few moments, however, it seems to click.

"Ah. Yes. This arrangement is acceptable."

They stand, moving a bit awkwardly.

"I would like to be shown my temporary quarters. I am still...tired."

[PepperP.]

Castle Briarcroft

Everly followed Senna out of her apartment. She couldn't keep a small grin from forming upon her lips at Senna's whisper.

"After Father is in bed. You have a key." Her reply was a whisper in turn as she acquiesced to her friend's entreaty. Their plans made, she poked her head back into the room to make her goodbyes.

"I shall take my leave." She hesitated, at a loss as it seemed the opportunity had passed to have a "Good Day."

May the rest of your day be less eventful." She settled for that and a smile before taking her leave of the party and the castle.

[Nefarion Xid]

Castle Briarcroft, Senna's Apartment

In the hall, Briarcroft gestured towards the door opposite Senna's apartment and went to open it for his debatable welcome guest. What lie beyond was a mirror image of the southern space, a large salon with a short corridor leading to a bedroom and bathroom. Like the rest of the walls were a rather cold looking, if immaculately polished grey limestone with a soft blue tint. Navy blue, crushed velvet drapes with black fringe spanned from floor to fourteen-foot ceiling, covering the east and courtyard windows. The space was bare except for a mismatched writing desk, chair, naked bookshelf, and a chocolate leather chaise longue in the middle of the room.

"There," the duke said slightly more tersely than he'd intended. "You'll find the accoutrements in the typical fashion. A bed. Other things to lay or sit upon. Do make yourself comfortable. I'll have Basil bring up something to eat." One wondered if anyone on the staff did any work besides Basil. There was no sense of hospitality at all to the duke's voice, making it obvious he didn't trust the stranger farther than he could be thrown (which would be a fair distance given the height advantage of the fifth floor window). Alden continued for another second, scrutinizing the urchin in silence before spinning away to catch Everly.

"Leaving so soon, Miss Sinclair? You're welcome to join us for lunch." He waited a tick for a polite refusal. "Of course. Well, do allow me to walk you down to your carriage?"

[PepperP.]

Castle Briarcroft

Everly smiled warmly at the duke as he asked to walk her out.

"Yes of course, thank you." James had been resting in the carriage but jumped up as Everly and Alden approached. He moved to the driver's seat and readied the horses to take their leave.

"It's certainly been interesting." She smoothed her gown with her hands as she turned towards Alden to make her farewells.

[Othniel]

The Gilded Oar

Magnus led the way to the establishment he called home. Thrusting open the door, he cast his eye about for Scarlet. Owen was there conversing with someone he hadn't met before and he nodded to the affable tavern-keep. "Jeanette!" he called out, looking toward the kitchen door. "Back already. I've brought business for you. We'll be wanting breakfast."

"Her name's Jeanette, but most folks call her Scarlet," Magnus explained to Buce. "She's as pretty as could be, but she's got a temper and a dagger she knows how to use. And she's spoken for." The big man's tone made it plain that he was the one doing the speaking there.

"You'll be having a second breakfast then, Magnus?" A pretty woman with red-gold hair came through the door, wiping her hands upon a green apron before resting them on her hips. "Where you'll be putting it, I don't know. You just ate a scarce three hours ago or so." There was the sound of a practiced scold to her lilting voice, but it held no fire. It was a familiar argument and she quickly smiled. "Come, sit. I've got the crew working on getting lunch ready, but we've still got some breakfast left. I'll have the girls fix you two a pair of plates, and then you can tell me what brings you back so early from the Graves." She spun and disappeared into the back, only to reappear a scarce few minutes later with plates heaped with eggs, sausages, and biscuits. Owen stepped over to see what they'd like to drink before going back to his conversation with Duggin.

"Now then, what's happened at the Graves? Not a few minutes ago, a guard patrol came marching down the street like they was going to war."

[Tentreto]

Magnus led the way to the establishment he called home. Thrusting open the door, he cast his eye about for Scarlet. Owen was there conversing with someone he hadn't met before and he nodded to the affable tavern-keep. "Jeanette!" he called out, looking toward the kitchen door. "Back already. I've brought business for you. We'll be wanting breakfast."

"Her name's Jeanette, but most folks call her Scarlet," Magnus explained to Buce. "She's as pretty as could be, but she's got a temper and a dagger she knows how to use. And she's spoken for." The big man's tone made it plain that he was the one doing the speaking there.

Buce nodded. He understood Magnus's tone, and didn't really mind. It would be rude to try such a thing on someone who had offered breakfast after this morning. Not to mention suicidal.
"Good to meet you Jeanette. I'm Buce." he said warmly.

While Jeanette sorted out a few things, Buce took a moment to glance around the tavern. It looked a little tarnished, but had a fairly decent bustle for what was still the morning. The tavern-keeper was present, as were a few others, probably also recovering from the Graves. When Owen did come over, Buce simply asked for whatever was the house beer.

"Now then, what's happened at the Graves? Not a few minutes ago, a guard patrol came marching down the street like they was going to war."

"Well," Buce began, "the pre-event entertainer was a little too good with illusions, and caused a riot. And then.."
Buce took a small moment to eat some of the egg, just to think of how to phrase all of the things he had seen. He failed.
"Well, to put it bluntly, a tiger got into the royal box, armoured ghosts started appearing in the common seats and some were saying the king was dead." he said. "So its probably going to be a tense few days no matter what. They never even managed to get past the entertainment, so the mercenaries and the bookies are going to be unhappy as well."

[Nefarion Xid]

Castle Briarcroft, Porch

"Yes. I can only hope my birthday will be uneventful. We did just finish replacing the panes in the great hall's windows and I should be very put out if someone rides a tiger through them. So, I guess I'll go ahead and cancel the tiger. On an unrelated note, I've been informed that I've been pronouncing 'caming' wrong."

The duke still hadn't managed to locate a shirt, which was just as well as he hadn't had time to wash up.

"To be honest, I don't much care for my birthdays. Becoming a year older hasn't felt like much of an achievement. But it will please me to see the hall filled with light and dancing once more. Do you dance, Miss Sinclair?"

[PepperP.]

Castle Briarcroft, Porch

Everly's grin of amusement at the duke's offhand tiger remark turned wistful as he asked if she liked to dance.

"I do dance, my Grandfather Everett taught me when I was a girl and I've had some occasion to hone my skills. I look forward to your birthday, even with the potential lack of tigers."

[Nefarion Xid]

Castle Briarcroft, Porch

"Well, I had intended for it to be a masquerade, so perhaps you could wear orange and black if you're feeling predatory."

His face lit up with an infectious, mischievous smile.

"No. Don't tell me! I want to guess. Though, I don't think it will be hard to find you across the room."

[PepperP.]

Castle Briarcroft, Porch

Surprised laughter bubbled from her lips at the duke's jest.

"I shall have to owe you a dance if you do manage to see through my disguise. A whiskered mask no doubt." A playful smile curved her lips but she was already planning her dress. She must call in her tailor immediately.

"It will be something to look forward to for sure." She lingered upon the porch, torn between continuing the lighthearted conversation and seeing to her father's relief.

"I really must get home, it was a pleasure to meet you Your Grace." She sighed inwardly, ever a slave to daughterly duty.

[Dorizzit]

[Castle Briarcroft]

After Alden opens the door, the stranger take a few steps into the room, looking around for a moment before turning back to their host.

"That will not be necessary. I am..."

They struggle with words for a moment.

"...Eating will do more harm than good in my current condition."

The stranger, for their part, seems completely unaware of Alden's hostility or lack of trust. They do meet his gaze, however, and their expression is completely blank. There is no emotion, presence, or depth to the stranger; it's like looking into the eyes of a puppet.

"Thank you."

After Alden leaves, the stranger draws the curtains until the room is as close to complete darkness as possible, then curls into a ball in the middle of the floor and almost immediately drifts into a deep "sleep."

[Lleban]

Chapter 2: Introduction

Tidecleft, Ashday...Almost noon !?

Those who have a heavy connection to the Aetheric network, or are capable of sensing magical phenomena could have seen the dome coming. Unfortunately the cities attention was largely occupied at the time, as Ashday approached more and more mages, scholars, and experts concluded that the mysterious object would collide with the cliffs by the afternoon of Ashday. As a result, the expected landing sight attracted a series of, vagrants, curious children, and nobles with frankly too much time on their hands to climb onto the cliff face and scan the sea line for the dome. However, the words of experts aren't the only sign of the domes arrival.

The first sign was the animals, or rather a lack thereof. To the relief of a great many, the wide variety of seabirds occupying the city, gulls, ducks, and sea eagles have gone near silent over the past 3 days. What was once a thriving community of sea gulls seems to have otherwise flown to greener pastures. Even the exotic birds owned my many of the wealthier resident have either gone conspicuously silent or otherwise escaped from their beloved owners. Birds aren’t the only creatures to have begun acting erratically, the cities plentiful population of stray dogs and cats have also decided to vacate within the last three days. Reports from towns on the outskirts of the city indicated many of them have formed packs to steel food and attack residents. Even the fishermen yields have decreased dramatically over the past three days.

Next came the stories, starting a day after the riots, merchants and sailors told stories of a stadium sized black dome lurching out of the fog near their ships. While the details differ per story, the most common details mention a diverse array of overgrowth from the Far East covering a black carapace made of an unknown material. What wasn’t covered by overgrowth was covered in thousands of scribbled on pictographs. The sailors closest to the dome reported feelings of intense paranoia, hearing deep guttural hums, and crew members getting nosebleeds when attempting to decipher the pictographs. Of course the clarity of these memories seems inversely proportional to the re counters sobriety.

Ashday…High Noon
By noon the sun towers over the city of Tidecleft, bearing its full might over the upper neighborhoods, while the shadows of illustrious towers, manors and bridges begin enveloping the remainder of the city. While this process that reaches completion by the early evening, for a brief moment the entire city was basked in sunlight standing out from the re-brown Carmine cliffs like a multicolored tapestry, each district standing out like a color in a mosaic. By all accounts the waterfront was recovering quite nicely after the aptly named Flaming Tiger riots of Sunday. Workers frantically renovating the Salt Graves before the next show, guards lackadaisically patrolling for smugglers, and merchants delivering their wares from across the sea, have been indicators of a largely normal day.
A normal day ended by the air getting split by a titanic high pitched screech, audible throughout the city. Those watching from the cliffs notice the dome, bending, deforming, shaking off some of the less anchored plants, all while screeching against the Carmine cliffs. As the dome slows to a stop, several cracks in the structure are now visible, though what’s inside remains a mystery.

[hi-mi-tsu]

Briarcroft Castle
Sunday

"I am Bergen Valdof, First of his name, the Fallen, Fairy Killer, Oathknight, and King of Grendelhof. I spoke truly when I said I had no intentions of harming anyone or causing chaos. Who do I have the honor of addressing?"

"I...um." The suit of armor was now empty. The empty suit of armor was talking to her, because a scared, sweaty young man had just popped out of a collapsed pile of armor pieces and then the armor reformed itself. The scared, sweaty young man had taken the unconscious girl to find help...and she was left with...a ghost? Maybe? A spirit? A monster?

Okay, Nes, breathe. Just breathe. You've seen a lot of weird things in your time. Hells, you've been the weird thing more than once! This isn't anything you can't handle...right?

"Well, my name's Nespira, without any fancy titles like Fairy Killer. You're a ghost, aren't you? Like definitely? And you control little ghost minions? I mean, they're not very strong. For ghosts I'd expect them to be a little more durable, being as they're already dead and all."

She paused, and her cheeks turned a dusky purple. "Not...not to be rude. Your...Highness? Except for I've never heard of Grendelhof before, and I've been all over."

Sometimes, Nes talked more than was good for her, especially when nervous. Breathing again, she focused on smaller details, things that wiggled at the back of her brain. Things that were probably impolite to ask, but thinking about them helped her not run screaming from what was, assuredly, the strangest thing she'd ever experienced.

"...So like...do you have a sense of smell? I mean, that young man came out of your armor fairly pungent. When was the last time you actually got a cleaning? Do you even need to be cleaned, or do your ghost powers take care of that for you? I'd imagine it's difficult to polish yourself..."

[Sønderjye]

Briarcroft Castle, night before Ashday
[Whichever room Lloanna was put in]

Lloanna's eyelids went open and in the same instant she threw herself to the side causing her to fall out of the bed. She immediately regretted it.

Everything hurt. Even without the rather abrupt bofy-to-stone contact, her entire body protested to the movement. Muscles she didn't knew existed decided to join the choir of screaming muscles.

She allowed the cold stone to give her a little relief before the numbness became too much and she felt compelled to move. Carefully she started moving parts of her body. Nothing was broken it seemed. Her left leg still wasn't properly working which was both a good and a bad thing. On the bad side it wasn't working. On the bright side however this meant that she hadn't died during the stampede. She shivers, and not due to the cold.

Spoiler: OOC

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I'm not entirely sure what happened with Lloanna after the riot but with new chapter comming up I figured it was time to move things ahead. Feel free to have a scene before this one.

[Mary_Sue]

Lyrsday Night,
After dark

Senna surreptitiously tip-toed down the tower stairs and slipped away from Castle Briarcroft into the night. She didn't tell any of her fellow castle residents where she was headed or even that she was leaving. She was planning to be home before anybody knew she was gone in any case. She pulled her cloak tightly around her and over her head despite the warmth of the summer evening, not wishing to be recognised as she traversed the relatively short distance to Camellia Court on foot. It was a black night despite being cloudless, the moon a silvery crescent hanging amidst a dim spray of distant stars. She moved swiftly, a lone dark figure on a darker night. A night for keeping secrets. She kept alert for danger as she made her way past the large estates of the Court and their lovingly manicured gardens. It was on a street similar to this that her parents had been murdered, not so long ago.

Her watchful eyes moved to and fro over the quiet street as she kept to the shadows and away from the hanging lights that strained in futility to chase the night away from the grand homes and the important inhabitants that they sheltered within them. At length, she found herself in front of the large gated estate at the far end of the cul-de-sac. Having arrived at her destination, she silently opened the gate and made her way through, closing it just as quietly behind her. The rebellious strands of hair which had dared to spill from the concealment of her hood shone brightly as the light from the gatehouse lantern was reflected in the golden strands. She stood still for a moment, heart racing in fear of discovery. She was self-aware enough to realize this was part of the fun of her illicit affair with Everly, as much as she longed for her friend and lover to reveal their relationship publicly so that they may cease their subterfuge, she could not deny the thrill of danger that sped her heart and made her skin tingle with excitement even now.

She stealthily made her way through the gardens, the obscured forms of the towering topiaries making nightmarish shapes that loomed above her and reached for her with their grasping branches. She ignored them all, this path was no stranger to her and well-trodden. She inserted her key and entered in the back door near the servants quarters and crept up the stairs and entered Everly's room.

"Everly, I'm arrived." Her voice was a whisper though she was expected she did not wish to frighten the other woman.

[PepperP.]

Lyrsday Night,
After dark

Father had been taciturn at dinner. His foul moods always put her out and set her on edge, especially as he had been unwilling to divulge the root of his ire. Some esoteric matter of the Institute Directorate no doubt. Her feeble attempts at conversation had been parried at every turn, even the topic of the duke, that he had found such pleasure in her meeting just yesterday had failed to elicit any more than a surly grunt. She stirred her food around her plate without eating any notable quantity of it besides one of Cornelia's delicious garlic rolls and three glasses of wine. She sighed loudly and made another attempt.

"Will you be going down to the waterfront tomorrow? I am told the mysterious dome is coming quite close in now." She was certainly planning to get a closer look herself, likely with Senna.

"No I certainly have better use of my time." He picked up his copy of the Silverleaf Journal with a snap and stuck his face behind it. Resisting the urge to stick her tongue out at him, Everly stood without another word and went up to her room in a snit. She used her time perfectly well thank you very much!

She had calmed herself with a hot bath and a good hair brushing. She donned her prettiest nightgown and waited for Senna while she read the borrowed copy of Master Ross's Practical Guide to Reagents Volume 1, but it was dry reading and the wine had made her terribly drowsy. She got up from her desk and opened the large windows of her room to let in the warm summer breeze. She took her book to bed, but got very little reading done as she dozed comfortably until Senna's soft voice broke through her sleep and woke her up.

"Yes, I am here, dear." She sat up on the edge of her bed and yawned and rubbed her eyes sleepily.

"Are you coming down to the waterfront with me to view the dome tomorrow?" Having brought it up with her father, the topic was fresh upon her mind and also the desire for reassurance, that she was not wasting her time on the matter.

[Tychris1]

Outside Castle Briarcroft
Bergen

Had he a mouth Bergen would have smiled, but the most the fallen king could manage was to slightly shift his visor in an upward motion. "Ha! My real body crumbled away to dust long ago but my spirit persists and is bound to this earth. So, yes, I am a ghost. When I still had flesh in my condition I could taste, feel, and smell but now I am numb..." He fell silent for a moment, his helm looking down at his gauntlets and then the floor before rising to meet Nespira once more "I would gladly answer all your questions, in due time, but your question about my kingdom takes precedence."

Now he took a firm stance, his greaves shifting in the dirt to a horse stance, and Bergen held out his clenched hand and allowed it to glow with burning orange energy.

"Me and my people have been enslaved for hundreds of years, bound to a geas of ignominy and eternal unrest by a host of fairies. My lands are now seen and remembered as nothing more than a wasteland. I have toiled for centuries seeking to find seven people whose hearts are pure with those noblest of mortal traits and bring them together under one roof. I believe, Lady Nespira, that you are one of these chosen. Your SOUL burns bright with bravery. But, and I do apologize, but there is only one way to be sure."

And then Bergen slammed his fist into Nespira's chest.

It didn't instantly collapse against his immense strength, which was a good sign, and as Bergen continued to push through he felt his fist go beyond the physical and grasp at the metaphysical. Pulling his arm back, Bergen stumbled back a step as he departed Nespira, and held in his hand a small medallion in the shape of a orange kite shield.

Spoiler: Plot Ticket!

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Bergen has discovered the Soul of Bravery within Nespira, taking him one step closer to salvation.