epidemiology | EVENT ★ NALAWI INTRO

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EVENT ★ NALAWI INTRO

Recruits leave Oska at midday, with about 10 minutes of final warning given from the jewelry. Then the white mist rises as rifts open, and Oska is left behind. The transition into Nalawi is not a peaceful one. When the mist fades, recruits are immediately hit with a face full of lashing rain and driving wind.

The recruits have arrived in the middle of a nasty storm, but that’s not all that greets them. Seawater surges all around, breaking against -- houses? It’s a little hard to tell at first, in the chaos of the storm. Half of these buildings are made of rock, not carved, but shaped, and the other half seem to be living trees, thin wood and thatch, and a handful of more ornate (and more fragile) material, including clouded glass or obsidian. The stone houses are standing up best to this onslaught of waves, but even they weren’t made for this, and they shudder and crumble in the thrashing storm.

Thin screams can be heard over the wind and water, too. The locals are having some trouble not being washed away. The people here are small bipedal deer, and those hooves were not meant for swimming. They struggle in the water, some of them trying to snag a few precious belongings from drowning houses, some of them not even able to do much more than hang onto some jutting stone or tree. There are a few heroes among them, putting superhuman powers to good use: here a young man hovers in the air, dragging others out of the water and toward safety; there a girl parts the water with careful gestures of her hands, enabling a whole family to dart from their ruined home and run for higher ground. These feats are rare, though, and on the whole most of these natives are in trouble.

They don’t look too stunned to see the new arrivals -- they don’t have time to, and will push roughly past a new arrival to deal with some crisis sooner than stop and stare. They’re mostly just grateful for any offered help, generally seeming terrified and shellshocked by all of this. If any of them are asked what happened, they’ll point with varying degrees of wordlessness toward a high stone wall between the village and the sea, with an enormous gap broken through the middle of it where the sea rushes in. Like many of the houses, this dike was clearly shaped from living stone. But whatever shaped it apparently has no power to maintain it, and this is the storm that had finally taken advantage of that.

This long, dark afternoon provides plenty of tasks: help the Nalawi people evacuate from their ruined village, try to find material to rebuild their shattered (and still crumbling) dike, or take care of the hungry sea creatures that have taken notice that the deer, usually safe on land, are suddenly in easy reach. They look like crabs with too many legs, but each of them is nearly the size of one of the villagers. They’re more than capable of seizing a struggling villager and scuttling back toward the break in the dike to drag their prize into the sea. Their shells are difficult to get through, their pincers terrible and sharp, but their joints and eyes are unprotected and tender.

The storm won’t last forever, though. It blows itself out in a few hours, just in time for a truly beautiful tropical sunset over the western edge of the island. Exhausted locals will finally begin to talk a little more. They’ll explain to their rescuers that the Stone Shapers have all had their Gifts faded out: there’s not a single one left. Without these abilities, the dike was left defenseless against the storm and the water rushed in. Their despondency and resignation suggests this kind of disaster is not new to them. They are, however, very grateful for the help: anyone who lends a hand over the new few days (thankfully sunny and clear) sorting through the wreckage, rebuilding, and setting up new dikes will be given food and shown to the inn for free lodgings.

Welcome to Komo, Nalawi.

OOC INFO

ICly this log will cover the day of arrival and the following few days of recuperating and rebuilding, if you would like to include that in your top level prompts. OOCly it will last until the 26th. New information will be available at that time.

As some quick refreshers, we have our Mission Overview here, which also includes a questions subthread for general questions. For intro event-specific inquiries, please see the comments below. Additionally, be sure to have read the Chantes epilogue as well as the Nalawi: Locations page. Note that we will also have new characters arriving during the event, so be sure to give them a hand!

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[There were screams. They died out in swift, simple movements that ended only with empty crashes of water. If Daenerys or Drogon noticed the lining of the beach, they would see that the victims had seemed to transfer further down the sands and away from the crabs. Crabs that had latched onto their new, vulnerable prey suddenly lost hold of them. The lot of them were still startled and bloodied, but they had been taken from the lower ground, while a tall and lanky man in all red leather sloshed around in his fine boots along the heavy running water, carrying a sectioned golden staff, divided by chains. He kept it tucked under his arm, muttering curses--]

Ah? [He noticed the two creatures who didn't seem to need any saving. One was human--the other was a dragon--something of a welp, but still capable of burning flesh in a flash of its maw.]

Somebody snuck a dragon from Chantes?

[ Chantes? Another world ALASTAIR has inflicted upon its captives, perhaps. ]

He is mine. [ The words are cast fiercely over her shoulder to the newcomer as Dany pulls the freed deer to safety, sea spray soaking her hair and her uniform. ] I know no Chantes. [ But if there were dragons there, then she half-wishes she could have seen it.

With effort, the current straining at the creature's hooves, Dany takes the last few steps to the shore, hands wrapped about a pair of forelegs. Her charge leaps to his feet as soon as the sand is beneath them, spindly legs trembling, and fairly bounds inland. ]

Drogon! [ She calls, shading her eyes again. The black dragon is darting in and out of the waves, searching for his quarry. ] Drogon, to me! To me! [ She won't have him chasing after beasts that might damage his wings. If ALASTAIR had let him be as he was, she would have gladly flown through this storm, and they might have all feasted upon roast crab tonight.

Flapping harder to escape the wind, he comes, and Dany turns to face the tall man, queerly garbed and carrying an even queerer weapon. It's only now that she notices the waters around them are clear, save for her own charge. Her brow furrows, and she turns to ask her query of the only person in earshot: ] The rest are saved, it seems. But how can that be?

[Weird. Red eyes met the dragon's scales, somewhat indifferent. Before Chantes, he would have considered killing it. Seeing the wyrms act so peacefully initially had taught him otherwise. They would destroy that world in time, but it wasn't his business at all.

Dany's question gave him pause. His fingers twisted and the staff loosened from under his arm. The chains rattled only for a moment before he flicked his wrist. It spun; one section landing on his shoulder at the ready. Drogon had sent off the last of the crabs in the area, so he didn't need to attack anything--but, he wasn't thinking of the crab, itself. The villagers fled, hurrying from the shore back to safer grounds. He would just make sure none of them ran back to the water looking for salvage.

If he looked too dangerous, holding a shady looking weapon--well, they would think twice about risking their lives for possessions.]

Who knows? [Her question was sensible though it wasn't one he felt like answering. Ban moved quicker than most could see just so no one would know what he had done, specifically. Preventing anyone from seeing the specifics of his magic had been important enough. Despite his dull expression, Ban hummed out his words as if he were in a pleasant mood.

He was still soaking wet and, ultimately, unhappy with the state of his clothes.]

Chalk it up to mystery~.

[ The careless response earns him an impatient look, followed by a doubtful one at the chains. It may be he had nothing to do with this, but looking around them both, it seems rescue efforts have been successively improving, and only very recently. ]

I will have no time for games. [ There's a tone there, a warning that seems to suit the frown well. ] If you truly think me unworthy of an answer, then you will have no trouble walking with me further and witnessing more mysteries, I presume.

[ The translation, of course, being: Let's finish up what needs to be done here, buddy. Of course, she has no way of knowing whether he'll walk with her at all; it's only the nature of a queen that she speaks boldly, and acts bolder still. She holds out an arm, and Drogon lands, studying Ban with eyes as red as his own. ] You did not give a name, [ she prompts, some patience returning now that she isn't dragging deerpeople up the beach. ]

[As Daernerys made her point, Ban found his eyes lingering elsewhere. Part of the magically formed dam broke further, off in the distance. It wouldn't carry water directly to them, but down along the shore--it would raise well past acceptable levels temporarily and bring more of the crabs with them. That seemed to be the habit. They were bum rushing the locals recklessly, without any sort of primal focus. They found new, normally impossible-to-pursue prey.

She spoke like a noble lady though she didn't terribly mind helping others. The young woman's disposition made little sense to him, though--he supposed one would have to be odd to tame a dragon much like a hawk. She didn't even seem to mind its breath. While it wasn't terrifyingly dangerous' Ban knew that most people would flinch at it.]

Ban. [His eyes still on the other end of the beach, Ban craned his neck and gave it a few sickening pops as it moved into a slow rotation.]

You aren't afraid?

[ Dany mislikes the sound of the pops, but she doesn't flinch. Why must men willingly hurt themselves like that? ]

No. [ She gestures to him to walk with her, and starts in the direction he was initially moving. ] It is only a storm, and a sea. Why should I be afraid of that? [ She has to raise her voice to be heard as the wind chooses that moment to pick up, lashing rain against their cheeks. She'd always known the circumstances of her birth. A great storm had struck the Crownlands, the worst in Westerosi history, it was claimed. Gargoyles had been ripped from the walls of Dragonstone and cast to the waters below, smashing her father's fleet.

No storm, not even one with giant crabs, will ever frighten Dany.

There comes a great crack, and now she sees what he saw, the wall breaking further under the weight of the swelling waters. ] You are well-met, Ban. [ She points ahead of them, in the direction of the wall, where the waters will meet the shore. ] Shall we go to meet the tide, there?

[ Drogon's tail curls about her neck, the bony scarlet ridges leaving imprints as the dragon rests from the pull of the wind. ]

[Drawn in by Daenerys' request, Ban followed. She hadn't bothered him with her directions. He didn't mind confidence. She was being honest, which he could read on her face as easily as glancing over the contents of a book. Her boast was strange for most to tread, but it didn't sound dishonest coming from her. Anyone who kept a dragon as a close pet, letting it rest on their shoulder--they weren't anyone to joke about.

He looked her over and shifted the hold he had on his weapon as they moved forward. It was maddeningly dangerous to approach the rising waters. He got away with lying before, but it didn't seem like he'd be able to hide things the next time around. Rolling his shoulders, Ban readied the Holy Rod, looking over the gushing, crashing water for signs of the advancing swarm.]

You have a name to share in return~?

[He sighed inwardly, regarding the foamy waters as they split, bony carapaces pushing free of them--climbing the waves to reach higher ground. Ban muttered, irritated.]

--No need for subtlety, huh? Tcch. There's too many of them at once!

I do. [ Her pace becomes automatically more brisk at the sight, but she's small enough in stature (and he is so towering by comparison) that it likely makes little difference to him. ] My name is Daenerys Stormborn. I am a queen, though I fear there will be no decreeing my way through this swarm. [ It's a quip, albeit a dry one.

Unknowingly, she mirrors his sigh with an external one of her own at the swelling tide of too many legs. ] Drogon has attacked the eyes. The shells will crack in his flames, I have no doubt--but with so many, that will not serve. I will see them blinded with fire and my whip. [ She mislikes such a brute, straightforward solution, is accustomed to strategy, but she has no other weapons in her arsenal at the moment. ] That, and your mysteries, shall have to be enough.

[ There's a pause, and she turns swiftly to him as they come upon the breach. ] Will you require a wide berth for your attack? [ Forgive her; she knows very little of his work, and she will be forever learning the intricacies of her fellow captives' magic. ]

Edited 2016-03-24 04:44 (UTC)

[A queen? That much drew Ban's eyes from the swarm, right back to the owner of that ostentatious claim. He furrowed his brows, surprised only by the realization that there was a Queen playing around with a pet dragon; there was a monarch who had every opportunity to complain about sand and the sea foam, but never did.

He looked back to the crabs as they ran along the shore, darting towards a collapsed stone structure. Behind the structure, a few of Nalawi's residents were trying to push a stone wall back, to allow someone to come out from under it. They had been trapped. Daenerys and Ban had only been thirty yards away--being able to see the numbers of the hungry creatures in fine detail.]

You're full of surprises a bit too soon in our meeting, My Lady. [Call Ban whatever you like, but--he was a knight, once. He didn't treat royalty poorly.]

Let Drogon distract anything that sneaks up behind us. [Ban sounded desperate, but it was in some capacity that was tough to judge by a stranger. Had Daenerys known him before, she might have expected him to say something so abysmally stupid.]

I got plenty of space, buuuut it's a pain in the ass~. [He acceded, expression turning dull. With a flick of his wrist, a pink whip grew from the end of his sectioned staff that whirled in the arc of a reaper's scythe. The elongated, magic-clad weapon lanced through the air quicker than lightning as it neatly and professionally removed the legs from the crab at the front of the swarm. It was a fine point needle that dissected the target as expertly as one might have prepared crab legs on a cutting board.]

If they rush all at once, I may end up ruining the meat.

[ Dany thinks to correct him, to say that monarchs are addressed as Your Grace, but it seems a petty difference at the moment. ] Too soon? [ Silver eyebrows raise, and despite their predicament, she laughs. When would have pleased him more? ] That is no ordinary staff. You must have known stranger than dragon queens, surely?

[ The whip cracks, and had she only blinked, she would nearly have missed it. The legs cleaved from its hard-shelled body, the crab rolls grotesquely into the sand, landing belly-up. One of its fellows pauses in its charge to investigate, eyestalks quivering furiously.

His response is almost cavalier, and she waves a hand in a regal sort of permission for him to slaughter en masse, if need be. ]

There is no need for precision. Meat is meat, I'm certain. [ Her own strikes will not seem nearly as clean. Barbs are good for tearing and torture, not for slicing away limbs. Still, she turns on her heel and takes aim at the first foe she sees with the best, most vicious slash she can muster. She's wielded two whips before: one for a slaver, who had shrieked as his cheek was cut open, and another for Drogon himself. No monster will seem half so daunting after that.

Her target halts just before the whip strikes, and then is bowled off his feet by the force of the blow, legs left to scuttle in the air. Drogon alights upon the hard belly, almost lazily breathing a lance of flame onto the eyes. ]

[Ban watched Daenerys set to her work. Going on with a whip was difficult. For a slave driver, there didn't need to be any real skill to it though it did certainly motivate people to avoid dragging their feet at all if there was talent. True skill came variation. The use of a whip in real combat was something else entirely and not many slave drivers actually took such things onto battlefields. She certainly possessed more strength and dexterity in her wrists and shoulders than any queen he could imagine. More irregular was the fact that the whip was her chosen weapon in the first place. Queens didn't ever take up arms, themselves. It was above the grade of rarity that felt into the realm of myth.

As he watched her go about her work, one crab darted from the foam by his side and drove one claw up, clipping his midsection. Blood ran down heavily from where the claw met him, though he didn't pay it or the creature any mind. He looked to the other crabs to make certain they were a certain distance away. With a lash of his own, his weapon took on its magical tint once more and streaked across the beach, dismembering another crab.

The dull expression he maintained told one every bit of stress he felt. It was the same wherever he went. There was no worry or concern for himself. He was rarely pushed. He never met anyone who could give him real excitement in a fight. He wore the expression of a man who had been trimming the hedges of a home that he had maintained for decades. There was, at most, the minimum amount of focus that it took to act and beyond that, nothing. He was more interested in Daenerys, who presented herself as an irregular person in his scope of knowledge.]

If ya' say so. Couldn't hurt to have spare rations for a large group, though. Y'know-- [He added, his voice finally touched with some measure of investment. Ban's body-language read boredom and reluctance.] -- That barb isn't half as bad as I imagined they would be against that armor on the crabs. You're good enough to make them cut like knives.

[He turned his axis a little, the staff he wielded ringing its chains as he took out three more crabs in one effortless swing. The pink, jagged whip he created spun around and bent at over a dozen angles to accomplish it, despite the fact that it only had three joints.]

[The crab couldn't make Ban budge, digging into him with every bit of effort in its body.]

Edited 2016-03-27 07:21 (UTC)

[ He is more complimentary than she deserves, Dany thinks. Her shoulders don't ache yet, but they will soon. She has been a khaleesi, but khaleesis wield no weapons. Conqueror-queens sit upon thrones and lead men into battle with their plans and their speeches, but she is no warrior.

But for the sake of the moment, she will pretend. Perhaps he is pretending, too: He behaves as though he's at a very boring feast, entertaining mildly interesting conversation. ]

They are cruel barbs, [ she responds sharply, a bit breathless as a crab seeks to barrel into her legs, ] made for maiming beasts and children who did not consent to die in a hideous bloodsport. [ If she'd known it had reminded him of what a slaver might carry, she would have flinched. ] I had no other weapon. [ She kicks at the creature seizing onto her uniform impatiently, ruining two of its legs and summoning Drogon to gleefully snap at the exposed joints. No choice of weapon, is what she means. As far as she knows, ALASTAIR cares little for how equipped its captives are.

But he has the right of it: she seems to take to the whip like it's an extension of her own arm, a skill with an implication she doesn't wish to dwell upon. It had served to subdue Drogon, and that was what she had needed.

Grateful for a break in the fray, she turns and sights the crab with claw sunk deep into her companion, and gasps. Why did he stand there so? If he makes no move to pry it off, she will flick her lash at it, and hope the barbs don't kiss his skin along with their mark. ]

How did you come to get that whip, then?

[Had Ban been distracted by the pain or even missed the tone in Daenerys' voice by chance, he wouldn't have fully understood the connotations of what she was saying. She didn't outline the whole story. No one in the world would have expected her to announce such a scenario for a stranger in the middle of a fight. It was unreasonable.

Even so, Ban was exactly that.

All he had heard was that, at one point in time, that whip had been used on children. Its barbed had kissed them in ways no parent would want them to. For the first time in a long time, Ban released the first sigh from his lips that could become truly cold and murderous intent. His expression never slipped. Instead, his will boiled and his intent manifested in the form of unseen, laughing skulls and a ghost's ichor of death.

Daenerys' whip tore a hot and sudden rip in the claw of the crab that had bit into him, given that he didn't move. Its grip loosened and fresh blood ran down Ban's side in thick, fatal rivulets. There was too much of a rip in his side to be properly taken care of on a sandy beach on the outskirts of civilization. There was a visible chunk taken out of him, as if carefully cut out, but it began to mend itself as fast as water turned to vapor on a hot skilled. Steam boiled from his wound and it close, mending itself back to perfection before long. Ban's murderous presence was the one thing that didn't vanish. The crab turned to look to Daenerys to respond to the first danger that presented itself to him, but stopped in its tracks when it felt Ban's eyes on him.

Were it a normal, smaller crab, it would have lacked that capacity for fear, but it was of a massive species and with that--a brain that grew in proportion to its size. It knew the sickening pressure rolling off of Ban wasn't anger. It was just a predator's lust. It was the capacity and willingness to kill that didn't come with creatures that seemed as apathetic and harmless as Ban. He could kill, but there was nothing predatory about him when he kept such a bored look about him. Despite this, the crab knew it shouldn't have moved and remained still as a statue the moment Ban's voice ushered it a question:]

Where're you running to? [He didn't imagine it understood his words rather than the force of will behind them. When he felt like it, Ban became nothing less than predatory.] Were you and I done?

[ No one, indeed. And so she doesn't respond for the moment, puzzling at how he has breath to waste in the thick of battle. None of her captains, even the ones who love battle most, would dream of holding conversation as they slew their foes.

If he wishes to have an answer, he must ask when the fighting is done.

The tear of flesh is a sickening sound, one that would have sends the queen to flinching, despite the uglier sights she's seen. What horrifies her is not the sight or the sound, but the meaning--this man stands as though unmoved as he bleeds, as if he feels nothing when his belly threatens to empty itself. He is as stoic as her Unsullied in the face of pain, but Dany thinks even dying Unsullied must make some sound.

But then there comes a soft hiss, and then the mend. Stunned, Dany watches as the wound fills itself in, regrowing. But how can that be? Does this man live, or is he only undying, as the Undying Ones had been? Unbidden, she shivers at the memory, feeling as though her flesh is crawling.

But the pause costs her, and soon a small horde of creatures are making to scuttle past her, pincers held aloft. Aghast, Dany kicks at the belly of the nearest one, and sends it to tumbling into its fellow. Drogon swoops almost gleefully past her in a haze of dark flame, a wall of heat shimmering in the air in its wake, and great crackling sounds breach her ears as the crabs are baked in their armor. ]

Edited 2016-03-30 21:11 (UTC)

[The crab didn't remain still for long. It flinched and tried to run from Ban, but the crab monster was decimated by the slightest gesture--one made with his wrist. He threw a heavy punch down into it though at a glance it would have simply looked as if his limb twitched. It was nearly entirely imperceptible. He didn't really like flaunting his strength unless it was against someone he liked. Fighting a friend who could give him a reason to exert himself was a worthier cause than destroying a beast.

Ban didn't show any sign of hesitation as he turned from the crumbled crab beast. It fell in a heap, the impression of Ban's hand showing in its broken carapace. It was shaped like the impression of his closed fist.

Daenerys lashed out and struck one of the creatures while Drogon took to burning the rest. Ban, lifting both of his hands up, pulled at invisible strings. He sucked the strength out of the creatures. He stole it from them as easily as one could speak a single word to steal a person's attention. They collapsed in fatigue and burned all too easily. Ban said nothing to indicate he was the cause. The remaining crabs fell, becoming exceptionally targets.

They would stay that way until his spell broke which wouldn't be for awhile.]

Guess there'll be a whole lot of meat wasted, today~.

[Even if he hummed it out, Ban's tone was humorless. He looked on as the crabs burned, unable to scream. Creatures of that sort didn't really possess vocal cords. They just writhed while their pain seemed to go unnoticed.]

Overcooked, too.

It is done! [ she cries, relieved.

Dany lowers her whip, her arm and shoulder aching from the repeated movements. Waste, indeed: she feels a slight sickness in her belly to see the slow suffering. For once, Drogon's fire is a mercy, not a punishment.

They had been only three, so why had it been so easy? She couldn't have attacked more than one-fifth of the crabs who had run up the beach. Drogon had struck where he wished. The rest, though ...

She doesn't ask for an explanation for magic she doesn't possess, but with the wind and rain blowing away the black smoke lingering over the scene, she does squint to consider him, her hair and her face stained by salt and ash alike. She cares little for how cooked the crabs are (the smell of charred meat sends her belly to rumbling), but she does wish to know how he had lived.

And so she strides through Drogon's smoke, as though it is a cloak she wears. ]

I am glad you did not fall, [ she tells him, her gaze flitting to where the wound had been. ] Who shall I thank for that? Some god, or another power?

[Who could anyone thank for that? Someone who was long dead--who turned down the same gift to give it to him. He didn't like to think of it at a time like that. Sad distractions could do nothing but slow him down at a time like that. Ban popped his knuckles and offered Daenerys a sidelong glance as he began walking along the beach once again--approaching the crowd of Nalawi that had been readying makeshift weapons.

When they realized the threat was neutralized, they began to ease up. Even so, Ban threw a wave of irritation towards them that sent them scattering. He didn't feel like saving the same people anymore than he had to.]

Thank my greed.

[The stench of burning, salty carapaces did nothing pleasant to Ban's nose, but it did remind him of further issues that would have to be dealt with.]

Are you going to stick around here?

[ His greed?

Dany gives him a helpless look, not understanding, precisely. How can she not stay? However much she mistrusts all that ALASTAIR commands, these people are in need, and their plight is an unkind one. She would be unkinder still to walk away. ]

I am a queen, [ she tells him, simply. ] I will go where I am needed. It is my place to protect those who cannot protect themselves.

[ Her book had taught her that. A book writ at the hand of some wise maester long ago, a tome as lost to her as the man who had given her its gift. Viserys had never believed in such things, but she must, or else she is no better than he was.

A fluttering of wings stirs the air around her, and Drogon alights upon her arm. ]

Where will you go? [ she asks, tilting her chin up to look at him properly. He is monstrously tall, a true mountain of a man, with eyes that burn. Whether they burn with blood or some other fire, she cannot explain. ]

[From what he saw and heard from Daenerys, Ban had expected more resolve. For a moment, regardless of the cause of it, she looked as if she were hesitating. Then, in an instant, it vanished and turned into determination.

It was what one expected of royalty. Kings and Queens could be determined through foolishness and arrogance, but it didn't look that way with her. Very rarely did he actually see that look in people. It wasn't wisdom. She didn't sound so self-assured that it could be madness. It was simple determination. If she bent her will, it would bend the world with it.

Daenerys had something he could never possess. She was the sort to look to change the way of the world. Ban accepted his inability to do a thing about it.]

Nowhere in particular. Maybe if I wander the beach, I'll find some more fun. [He wasn't tired. Not yet. Ban twisted his wrist and snapped his four-sectioned staff back into its cloth holster in an instant. Ban took that moment to look down to Daenerys. His eyes were bored. The fire waned without a real target. She looked like a noble woman should have, but he didn't feel loathing towards her. Very few people gave him good first impressions.]

Did you want to tag along?

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EVENT ★ NALAWI INTRO

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sorry so slow! had to meet a deadline today

No worries!

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