epidemiology | EVENT ▸ DIPLOMACY

EVENT ▸ DIPLOMACY

DIPLOMACY

As the skirmishes between wandering Mountain and Sea Clan groups continue in the Flowerlands, by this point enough attackers have been interrogated by Guild Ophelia to paint a compelling picture of unorganized chaos. Each time a skirmish is interrupted, both sides blame the other for starting the impromptu fight, claiming no knowledge of or participation in an organized cabal; the conflicts are entirely coincidental, they say, just a situation where enemies clash in neutral territory.

The Flowerlands are suffering, crops trampled and livestock traumatized, and more and more Mountain and Sea Clan people are terrified to leave their cities, lest they be set upon by warriors from the opposing clan. Under this type of political strain, Hanabira threatens to erupt into full-out civil war at any moment, with or without the sanction of the empresses.

Two weeks after Ophelia's arrival in the Empire of the Crashing Wave, Doro sends word: Empress Nama and Empress Youmi have agreed to meet and discuss the term of an alliance. Doro's castle will serve as a meeting place, but the difficult part is bringing the empresses there safely. You foreigners have already proven yourselves to be capable and invested in seeing the conflict to a peaceful conclusion, so Doro contracts Ophelia to act as escorts and guards.

This might just be the perfect opportunity to whisper proposed solutions to advisors or, if you're lucky, to the empresses themselves.

▸ THE RETINUE

Ophelia has a few different options if they choose to take Doro's contract: escort Nama or escort Youmi and/or guard the Flowerlands castle.

ESCORT ▸ EMPRESS NAMA.
It's a week's worth of travel to return to the Land of Celestial Mountains from the Empire of the Crashing Wave, so the sooner Ophelia starts out, the better. Skirmishes between clans still dot the forests and farms of the Flowerlands, and each time the retinue encounters one, they must decide if they have the time to interfere or if they must push on. After all, the longer there is no peace in Hanabira, the more dire the situation becomes.

When the group finally reaches the Land of Celestial Mountains, they'll find that the entire city is locked down. Guards bar the gates, but upon seeing Doro's seal, they'll let the guild members inside and explain the situation:

Mountain Clan rebels have stormed Heavenly Summit, cutting a large swath through the castle. Much of Nama's court and guards lay dead inside, with the rebels holding the remainder hostage -- including Empress Nama herself -- unless war is declared against the Sea Clan. The city guards are afraid to approach, worried that this will only anger the rebels further and cause Nama's death, and have directed all townsfolk to stay in their homes until the situation has been resolved.

The guards caution Ophelia not to try any rescue efforts themselves, and instead ask them to either find a building to barricade themselves in or leave the city. Of course, it's not like they're keeping a close watch on everyone.

Those who choose to slip into Heavenly Summit Castle will find guards surrounding it, trying to stop anyone from coming in as well as keeping arrows trained on all windows in case a rebel shows her face. Stealth is the name of the game, or at least enough brute strength to knock a guard out in one blow before she sounds the alarm.

Inside the castle, rebels stalk the halls of every floor, masked in the green color of the Mountain Clan. Some are heavily armored and some only wear peasants' clothes, carrying farmers' sickles; it seems as though the attack on the castle was planned very quickly, too quickly to evenly distribute armor and weapons. There are corpses left where they were killed, with splashes of bright red blood beside them; there are hostages huddled in the corners of rooms, wide-eyed but silent at the sight of foreigners ostensibly here to save them; and, in the heavily-guarded throne room, Empress Nama herself.

Fight through the rebel guards with Nama's help, or find a back door and snatch her up before the rebels notice. Either way, once Ophelia lays eyes on her, the magitek will project words in front of them that only they can see:

» EMPRESS NAMA
Leader of the LAND OF CELESTIAL MOUNTAINS. 23 years old. SPECIES: Human. MEDICAL CONCERNS: Lactose intolerant, recent blow to the head.

Nama doesn't ask questions, recognizing the foreigners of Ophelia as those who were meddling after the festival attack and trusting they're here to help her escape. Longbow in hand, she leads the group through secret passageways in the castle, insisting they rescue the nobility on the way out. From there, Nama suggests stealthily escaping the castle and quickly riding out of the city to the safety of Doro's castle, unsure who she can still trust in her own empire.

With Empress Nama and her surviving courtiers added to the retinue, it's time to ride back to the Flowerlands -- and hope you aren't chased by rebels along the way.

ESCORT ▸ EMPRESS YOUMI.
It takes half a week to travel from the Empire of the Crashing Wave to Doro's castle in the Flowerlands. Youmi and two advisors ride in a carriage, with an entourage of royal guards on horseback in front and behind; those in Ophelia who choose to escort this group will either be on foot or must find a mount themselves.

The journey is peaceful, allowing for time to make camp by forested hot springs and in farmhouses (in which case Ophelia might need to sleep outside, depending on the size) along the way. The Sea Clan guards are open to idle chatter with the foreigners, curiously discussing cultural differences and indulging in quick lessons in archery.

Everything seems to be going smoothly until the entourage enters Flowerlands territory and is confronted by a winged spirit of the forest, angered by all the recent bloodshed in his home. There is no time to talk; the spirit does not wish to negotiate, only to stop the crew from moving any further into his territory by any means possible.

The spirit calls the creatures of the forest to his aid, controlling them as if they are under some sort of spell. Ogres, imps, bears, and wolves are the most worrisome among his helpers. His own attacks come from the sky, diving down to slash at his victims with exceptional speed. Those archery lessons will come in handy here, because ranged weapons are most effective against him as long as he remains in flight. He can take an astounding amount of hits, and once he is weakened, will land on the ground to fight in close quarters.

Once he is finally defeated, his spell on the forest animals is broken, and even the most aggressive of them scatter. His feathers are black, but up close, seem iridescent in the light, differentiating them from a common bird's. Youmi's guards suggest everyone take a feather to prove they felled a legendary beast.

GUARD ▸ FLOWERLANDS CASTLE.
Until the empresses and their escorts arrive, it's very uneventful at Doro's castle. It's a smart idea to keep an eye out in case someone hears about the summit and tries to interfere, but so far, things seem to be peaceful. Take the time to bolster defenses, relieve a guildmate of guard duty, or explore the castle.

▸ THE SUMMIT

Youmi and her entourage reach Doro's castle first, her royal guards immediately making a sweep of the castle and the grounds to ensure there is no danger lying in wait. Once the castle is cleared, Doro and Youmi disappear into a guarded room to begin discussions. Youmi's advisors are left out of this initial meeting, making now the perfect time to start some discussions of your own.

Days later, Nama's retinue arrives, and Doro and Youmi (and the rest of her entourage) meet her at the castle gates. The two empresses step cautiously forward to meet each other, bowing politely. Moments later, Doro steps forward to gather Nama into a hug, which she gladly returns, giggling like the young girl she is. She's had a rough time, which she quickly explains to Doro, and asks if she can first have a bath and a moment to breathe. Doro and Youmi are more than willing to give it to her after hearing her experience.

Doro tells Ophelia they have their run of the castle until dinner tonight, when Doro, Youmi, and Nama will all be together in the same room with the team. Sounds like the perfect time to propose a plan, so you'd better finish up discussions about what to do! There's a bit of a time limit.

▸ OOC NOTES

If you have questions about this log or the overall mission, please ask them on the dossier. Questions about Futurology in general should be directed to the FAQ.

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Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

'Magically'?

[Again, curiosity seems to permeate his expression, more tangibly than before— not so much concerned for his own wounds as he is suddenly intrigued by the process she seems to be alluding to now.]

Have you magic in your world?

[Curious as she could be, Sieglinde recognized it easily in others, smiling somewhat to try and communicate that she was more than open to questions- she had questions of her own, after all. (He was blue, a good place to start.)]

Healing magic could encourage the wound to heal faster by exciting your cells... or even turn back time to make it as if they never were injured at all, depending on the spell.

[And she'd been studying for years now, to live up to the false name "Green Witch". Enough that she could truly feel it a fitting one.]

Such concepts are often spoken of, but it is usually little more than technology— or a scientific manipulation of naturally occurring elements. [One could, after all, stumble on a supposedly supernatural cure or toxin, and never realize its chemical origins, its physical roots. But as much as Thrawn wears the rigid, decorated mask of an Imperial, he is at his core, a Chiss— and the Chiss have always kept their crimson eyes trained on the imperceptible, the unfathomable, knowing that it is from the shadows that true predators strike.]

In some cases, however, there is a...legitimacy to it. [He lifts a few icy fingers, as if gesturing towards something unseen.] The Force is one such ability, though its influence is hardly limitless.

Edited (it's late what is English) 2018-03-08 08:10 (UTC)

I am familiar with such a thing. The "magic" spoken of in my own world was, apparently, simply science that we did not yet understand... and the magic I have learned here... it does largely work on the same principles as science, while bending the natural laws.

[After all... she had come to think there were some things that could not be defied, even with magic. Even the necromancer she had known... he could not bring a soul back from the dead if the body had been dead too long. Perhaps this Force was the same.]

But bending them without breaking is enough to heal this and prevent any residual scars. Should you wish such a thing.

[She taps her own cheek.]

I would indeed be honored to see such artistry at work. However my injuries are minor, and I must warn against exhausting yourself to satisfy my curiosity.

[Sometimes the opportunity to learn and study is worth the cost— other times....well, it'd just make him an asshole for insisting.]

Then you need not worry at all.

[Indeed, she wouldn't be offering to do this were it right after or before a battle, when she could anticipate the possibility of needing to use more powerful spells to heal those truly in need.]

I could not use my abilities in front of the sea clan, and I only have a single disciple at the moment, so my reserves are untouched.

[She goes for the chain she wears around her waist, unclipping the potion bottle there before she reaches out with a small hand for his cheek.]

May I?

[Touch.]

Of course.

[His glowing eyes shift only briefly— turning towards the entrance at their backs as he twists in his seat to face her more fully— ensuring that they are truly unobserved before he at last stoops forward, bowing low so that she does not need to strain herself to reach him.]

[With the assurance that they are not overseen, mindful of Hathaway's caution... Sieglinde pops the cork on the potion bottle and pours a small amount of the liquid into her palm before she presses it to his cheek, eyes fluttering closed briefly.]

As I see thee weltering in thine blood, I call upon the goddess who governs for aid...

[Her magic wasn't natural, as much as she spoke about it as if it were. A hodgepodge of abilities and energy made possible only by ALASTAIR and the tutelage of countless magic users who had come and gone, resulting in a mix of styles and executions.

But it worked, and that was what mattered.

Because when she pulls her small, pale hand from his cheek... the remnants of the wound are gone, the skin and muscle beneath encouraged to heal at a rate beyond their usual capacity.]

[His eyes slide open yet again, and as she withdraws, so does he— his unnaturally cool skin still carrying the warmth of both the magic and her touch. Thrawn lifts a few fingers, gingerly placing them against where the gouges had once marked his features, just beneath the red streaks that line his eyes.]

Fascinating.

[Examination done, Sieglinde earns the entirety of his attention once more:] How is it managed?

Edited (something something how 2 type at 3am) 2018-03-10 11:27 (UTC)

It is managed using a certain amount of... innate energy source put to each spell, you could say. Much like a "battery", it will recharge with time and rest.

[Her hands return to her lap, pulling from her sash a handkerchief which she uses to wipe the remnants of her potion from her palm.]

That particular spell uses my potion as a catalyst. The potion itself is scientifically made to cleans wounds and encourage their healing... but the spell does it at a much accelerated rate.

And this ability, how long have you studied its mastery?

[He realizes he might be mistaken in assuming so, but she seems quite young— and any talent, innate or otherwise, requires discipline to hone.]

Practically, two years. But I have studied the theory since I was old enough to be reading.

[... Admittedly, she doesn't realize most children aren't reading at age three, but. /Genius problems.]

Thankfully, my studies have made advancement with the actual spells far more manageable... though I would not be so foolish as to say it was easy. As with all learning, there are things I excel at and those I am not so gifted with.

[Okay, perhaps she has some humility.]

Is such an early introduction to theory usual for your people?

[There are always differences in culture, yes. Thrawn has mapped countless species and worlds, all committed to memory— but most reserve true training for those who are beginning to come of age, he has noticed.]

... no, not at all.

[Or, well-]

At least... for a witch, it is normal to begin training one's heir as soon as possible... but to be a witch is itself an unusual thing, so.

[Every time she meets a new person, she has a chance to be a bit more honest about her world and her life... but every time, this comes out instead.]

So not everyone possesses your ability to wield this force, regardless of their training. [Yet her mention of training one's heirs is significant to his mind; so often such skills must first be displayed before they are indeed acted upon. The Force and its more shamanic branches, monasteries and tribes alike across scattered clusters of worlds— even he and his brother had not truly been considered to be capable of taking up arms until they as children displayed a certain aptitude for combat.

He blinks in thought for a moment, his hand resting against his jaw.]

Am I then correct in assuming that it is largely hereditary?

That is true. Largely, anyway.

[And technically not a lie, either, if she thought about it... though when it came to her own backstory she rarely thought at all, preferring the smoothness and natural lilt of the lies she had told all her life rather than the disjointed and difficult to explain truth. But the genius that allowed her to do what she did... her “mother” had claimed her father was the most brilliant man in the country, and so that... is hereditary.]

The line of the Green Witch has passed its aptitude from mother to daughter for generations. You know of something similar?

In places. [He concedes, broad frame shifting back as he once again drops his hand to his side, choosing instead to turn his attention towards the brilliant skyline overhead.]

Many worlds, for example, believe that it is lineage that dictates one's worth or status, and that it has the ability to pass on more than mere physical traits. Yet I have seen only one instance of this that I believe to be sincere, and it was a gathering of creatures that possessed a collective hivemind of sorts.

In this way, it was possible for them to share both skills and experiences throughout the entirety of their bloodline.

More often than not, however... [Thrawn shakes his head, thinning his lips.] 'we are born how we are born'.

“We are born how we are born”...

[Sieglinde finds she has echoed the phrase without quite meaning to, following his gaze outwards after a brief study of his now unscarred face and the peculiar colored eyes. He speaks as if he has a great wealth of experience, with a gravitas she isn’t about to doubt- likely from a world more fantastical than her own, perhaps like those who traveled worlds even before Hathaway or ALASTAIR. Still.]

Genetics are useless without a proper upbringing, and abilities likewise without a proper teacher.

[But it hadn’t been proper at all... how she’d been deceived, how she’d been taught. She knew that. But it didn’t change that she had been, or that that woman had been her biological mother, or that she’d been born with exact intelligence required.]

... I should like to prescribe to such a philosophy for the future, at least, for my own heirs. ... it does not change one’s past, or one’s cultural practice up until a certain point, but.

[But she’s seen a lot of things in the past two years. Learned more than she ever could have in her own village, her own country, her own world.]

I believe it will serve you well.

[He does not grasp the full depth of her circumstances, but for all that she's said— for the weighted edges of the tone that slips out as she thinks— her ability to truly contemplate her past and adapt to it, rather than simply adhering, is a rare quality.]

There is something to be said for our presence here, and what opportunity it affords us. If you have already begin to fully utilize it, then you will inevitably chart a better future for your people.

Perhaps for your family as well.

[... Perhaps. One day, she thinks. Once she can find a man acceptable enough to sire her heir, once she's raised one long enough to know if it wishes to take on the mantle of the Green Witch or not, and if she must try again... But there is time for that yet.]

The opportunity is the only reason I yet remain, after all.

[Small, oddly arched feet kick gently over the edge of the moon viewing platform, staring up at the sky.]

Hathaway has promised I will be allowed to return to my world with anything I gather on their missions, all my notes... it is not something I could pass up.

[Pulling her gaze back from the moon to Thrawn, Sieglinde can't help but curiously ask.]

What opportunities has Hathaway promised you- if I may.

[He pauses, then— not looking at her, though not avoiding the topic by any obvious means, his face impassive. Almost pensive.

It is a heavy weight across his shoulders, knowledge of his own future. A powerful weapon, a necessary weapon, if not a painful one.]

The opportunity to save a great many countless lives from their otherwise inevitable suffering.

... ah.

[She had known there was a chance it would be something like that, perhaps something she shouldn't have asked, for fear of dredging up something personal one might not wish to speak of, but. He answered.]

A noble cause.

[She wonders, sometimes... how many others had such motives.]

I hope Hathaway can assist you.

[He is certain that they will assist. That their agents will succeed, as the Emperor is but one man— and all men must, inevitably, die. The truest test will come afterwards, when those assets depart and leave Thrawn to finish attempting to stabilize an Empire that has known nothing else.

He shakes his head, turning is glowing eyes on her once more.] If my attempt is unsuccessful, then I have the luxury of knowing that time will pass as it already has. And that I will, at the very least, be survived.

[That, of course, is the lie: to be survived not by one's own kind, or by those who are bound by deep set affection, is hardly to be survived at all.]

But I must not fail.

Of course.

[No. They must not fail.

Sieglinde's duty, the all consuming quest for the cure to the Ultimate Magic, the evil she had created unknowingly and feared might be released upon the world... she had fulfilled it with her own hands, her own sweat and tears... but it had taken her nearly two years of work, access to all of ALASTAIR's records and texts, consul with their brilliant minds...

She knows if she had not succeeded then, she would have asked it of Hathaway. She knows the weight of such things.

So she can only nod, meeting his gaze evenly. Understanding, far more than one would expect from a girl her age, in her eyes, smiling just slightly.]

If you ever need further aid from the Green Witch in the interest of such a goal... you need only ask.

[So despite wanting nothing now from Hathaway... she remained. Because there were people like this.]

Then allow me to offer the same in return.

[There is a sincerity to those words. A weight laid out through speech patterns and the set of his stare that speaks to gratitude.

It has been so long since someone last moved to freely offer their assistance without thought of strategy, fear or compensation: to a Chiss, such an offer holds deep meaning.]

From Mitth'raw'nuruodo. [His name accented and catching, touched by an inhuman hum, before he adds, without pretense:] Grand Admiral Thrawn.

EVENT ▸ DIPLOMACY

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the Notif that Gmail Forgot (2018) directed and produced by me, Avali

why can't i get this film on putlocker