TDM #1

[aionmods]

TDM #1

DREAMING

At first, there is nothing. You are nothing. Whatever existed before ceases to be if for a moment. Then, bit by bit, you start to become aware. Where there was not even darkness now is a dim haze, gentle and almost mist-like. You have limbs again and beneath your feet lays a path of light reaching out like limbs of a great tree beneath you, twisting and climbing out into the horizon.

You take a step forward for what else is there to do? As you walk you begin to remember what it was you were doing before the nothingness; maybe something as simple as chatting with a loved one or close friend. Maybe you were just beginning a great journey or facing off against an old foe. Whatever it was, you get the distinct feeling that wherever and whenever that was, it is not here. Not now.

The path of light twists off into different directions. When you look up you can see that it is not a sky above you but the sky of everything, a grand cosmic tapestry littered with not mere stars but galaxies and clusters of galaxies that gleam like crystals against the velvety backdrop of space. Admire it for a moment, if you will. You don't know how long you will drift here, but you are not alone. Other wanderers will come and go as you bask together in the vastness of creation.

It seems to you that there are two paths to walk in this place, the light and dark beckoning in turn.

❖ THE LIGHT AT THE CENTER
One leads you to the center, splintered fragments folding together and colliding until only one thing remains: a light that speaks to you with the voice of all there is and has ever been. It greets you simultaneously as an old friend and as a lost child, both rejoicing in and mourning your arrival. You remember it too, somehow, with a feeling of complex nostalgia, as if returning to a place recalled from your distant childhood.

You’ll feel the same of the other wanderers that join you in the light; you know their faces, their voices, and as you reflect upon the world of your birth, you may witness fragments of theirs as well. You feel a comradery, then, a synchronicity of thought and emotion. Are the lives of others truly so different from your own? Or are you simply two hands of the same, greater being? Though some individualistic part of you may resist, the longer you spend in the light, the more you will find yourself becoming one with it.

Despite this welcoming call, no matter how eagerly your pursue its embrace, before you can fully submerge yourself in this oneness you will find yourself being torn away. As if seized by the impossibly long, cold arm of a creature unseen, you are plucked from the edge of fulfillment. The last thing you will remember is the sensation of your world, and all the others your experienced here, collapsing into nothingness.

❖ THE DARK OUTSIDE (CW: deep despair, ego death)
The other leads towards the outside, where the splintering becomes so great that the vestiges of reality can do nothing but collapse back into the abyss at the end of everything. As you wander to these barren outskirts, your thoughts will not be drawn to familiarity and oneness, but instead to memories of discontent and waste. The darker the path becomes, the more you find yourself dwelling on life’s disappointments and injustices, of the things about yourself and your world you find wanting.

If you see others here, at first they will feel frightening or contemptible, as if representing to you the worst experiences in your life. Even if they are someone you’re certain you know, that familiarity and affection will be stripped away in the face of the great emptiness before you. In the end, you were all the same. In the end, none of this was worth it. If you approach the end together, you may even form a kind of kinship around this acknowledgment, as the need for paranoia and hatred fades.

Slowly, the darkness encroaches, and you can see it devouring all the things you once knew. Memories of your home, of those you loved, dissolve into nothing, and you can only reflect on the barren emptiness in your heart as you see it happen. In your final moments, though, you feel peace with it all, knowing that there was no other way. You step from the edge of the last dwindling fragment of being and are greeted by silence.

❖ THE END
No matter which way you go, you are left with a single impression: you feel the world you came from die. It's a realization that transcends logic or sense; it weighs on your heart and leaves the vestiges of dark memories dancing in your thoughts like motes of ash. It's a memory of your home crumbling away into nothing as if consumed from within by rot. Returned to the void, all that's left to you is to be reborn.

REBIRTH

In a new time and place, you awaken. Stirring within a capsule of warmth and isolation your senses will slowly return, only to observe that you are trapped. Your body, as it wakes, is tangled in close, yours eyes unable to open, as if still within the womb. You are held tight in the embrace of something unyielding, so smothering that at first you only have the strength to struggle for moments at a time. Yet, as you persist, the pressure begins to relent in turn; it may take hours, but eventually you will find the purchase to push, to claw, to fight, and it will all give way.

The chrysalis surrounding you bends like flesh and cracks like glass. It tears as you force your fingers through, finding liberation one inch at a time, until finally you have emerged. As if having undergone metamorphosis, you feel old and new all at once. You are weak, piteously so, but the markings and scars of your previous life remain. As you slump down upon the smooth cavern stone, you realize that you've just wrenched yourself free of gigantic crystal, though its hollow, shimmering form is now in pieces on account of your passing. Somewhere on your body, a shard of similar material remains embedded.

The cave itself looks almost like the inside of a geode, the walls and ceiling bedazzled with greyish crystal that shines with all the colors of the rainbow. While they vary wildly in size and shape, only a few have grown large enough to hold a form like yours, and you can see the one you just escaped isn't the only one bearing a passenger within. They may have already hatched, or they may still be lingering in stasis. Either way, there's enough time that you may have a chance to speak to yours unexpected peers, or to perhaps to struggle to find something to cover your naked body with. You feel the chill of the open air against your moisture laden skin, a distant light trickling in through the cavern's opening.

Make the most of this time. It won't be long before you're interrupted.

[Mod Note: If you don't want to deal with your character being naked in front of the others at that location, feel free to assume they emerge at a different time than the others of their legacy. Characters will be 'hatching' over a period of several hours.]

CAPTIVITY

It seems that someone was waiting for you to arrive, and not in the most friendly of ways. Though the specifics of who comes to get you will vary according to which legacy shrine your character awakens at, there are certain commonalities: most notably, how they are ostensibly here to capture and imprison you. It's easy for them, all considered. You can barely stand, so fresh out of your chrysalis, and whatever powers or special abilities you may have had will not answer your call. Even worse, your would be captors are well equipped for the job.

Each group arrives with several 'whips' made of unknown materials. What makes them so special only become obvious when one of them inevitable snakes its way around your body. Whether it be your ankle or your neck, being bound by these cords puts you under the influence of whoever is holding the other end of your leash. Your mind remains untouched, but you will find yourself physically incapable of performing physical actions that go against their will. While the possibilities are frightening, thankfully they all just seem to want one thing: for you to come along as a good little prisoner and to not cause any of them too much trouble.

The rest depends on your character's legacy:

❖ THE LOVER
The small island the shrine is built upon is approached by several modest boats with colorful sails. They carry what appears to be a collection of fearful fisherfolk and town guards. They are reluctant to speak with those being pulled out of the shrine or even look them in the eye. If they have their choice, the entire process will be done in silence. If you try too hard to upset them, the guards will sternly bring you to heel.

❖ THE CELEBRANT
The infrastructure of an entire festival ground seems to be built around this shrine, and as a result, there are an usual amount of people present. While most keep their distance, a few will engage with the local guards that arrive to capture the Aions, complaining that this is going to interfere with their preparations for the upcoming Lover’s Festival. They are pushed aside in short order, and the rest of the retrieval will be done in a stern but business-like manner.

❖ THE MARTYR
At first, those arriving to capture the Aions will be hesitant to even enter the barren crater this shrine is held within. Once the presence of the new arrivals becomes clear, however, they will run in as if crossing the no man’s land of a battlefield and complete their work with gusto. It appears to be mostly military folk and they seem to lack any patience or sympathy for those they capture.

❖ THE SOVEREIGN
The captors here seem to be a mixed bag, almost as if two separate squadrons have arrived at the same time. One is a gathering of people who give off the impression of mountain folk, while the others are well armored soldiers. Though it will be hard to make out the specifics, there seems to be some manner of disagreement between these two parties over what should be done, but the ones kitted out in full military attire win out in the end. By then, they are completely out of patience for further resistance.

❖ THE ARTISAN
The people here seem to have mixed feelings about your arrival. On one hand, it seems to be a moment of considerable trepidation, on the other, they seem unbearably curious about your nature. They will ask questions about any unusual features you have, or what your skills are, while others from the group try just as hard to shush them. Ultimately, they don’t seem that enthusiastic about having to capture you, but they also don’t seem to think they have much choice.

❖ THE INNOCENT
Among rolling hills of flowers, at first it seems as if this shrine may not be visited at all. Before the arriving Aions can escape it, though - naked and weakened as they are - a group of fairly normal looking townsfolk will arrive. They pause as they spot you near the shrine, almost like they are hesitating about coming at all. In the end, they will converge upon you and ask for you to please cooperate. They won’t hurt you, as long as you come with them.

❖ THE SEEKER
Armored soldiers are the ones to first pull you from the shrine, but as you arrive outside of it you'll see that it is situated at the edge of a great forest. An ancient observatory is build into the cliff face behind the shrine, and your captors are apparently in the process of negotiating with a series of robed individuals that have emerged from it. According to them, the soldiers kidnapping you are trespassing. Unfortunately, they are not the ones with weapons.

❖ THE WANDERER
When you first emerge from the shrine, it will appear as if you have just missed a skirmish. There are a few bodies scattered about, all wearing woodland armor made of leather and fur. The victors, it seems, come in the form of fully armored soldiers. Thoroughly irritated by the fight that just happened, they will not waste time on niceties. If you try to ask them what just happened, the best you may get is a sneer about ‘those damn forest people.’ You may spot a couple more bodies on the trail leading out of the forest as well.

❖ THE FIREBRAND
The first thing to be seen beyond the cavern entrance is a sheer drop into a raging canyon river far below you, with only a narrow path leading up the steep cliff face. It would be a difficult situation, even without black-cloaked warriors making their way down it to collect you. Struggle too much and you'll be at risk of being thrown into the chasm. These masked assailants are largely unmoved by your protests and will drag you the entire way up the cliff if you force them to. "Your soul will be claimed," they say.

❖ THE VISIONARY
The view from the mouth of the cavern is awe inspiring, revealing the foreign shapes of a world you've never seen before. Unfortunately, the altitude of this shrine means you will also be greeted with sharp wind and biting cold. Fortunately, or not, a party of mountaineers and three black-cloaked warriors will arrive to collect you. Despite their seeming inability to defy the orders of the warriors, the mountaineers will toss you some shoes and blankets for the trek down, even if they are taken away from you later. If the warriors speak at all, it's mostly in the form of ominous utterances.

❖ THE CHAMPION
Even if one were to stagger out of the shrine's cavern before being approached, the Aions arriving here will swiftly find themselves in a hopeless situation. Not only are there soldiers here to collect there is a moderately sized military barracks built around the shrine itself, and this particular squadron is not on your side. You will be swarmed before you can get far at all. There seems to be a mix of two squadrons here, some wearing heavy armor and red accents, while the others wear full face masks and dark cloaks.

Once you've been captured and pulled from the shrine, you will given a formless white gown made of moderately comfortable fabric, with sleeves reaching your elbows and its bottom reaching down past your knees. You will not be given pants or shoes. You're in for a journey, apparently - no matter who plucked you from the cave, most of the heavily armored soldiers in the prompts above will turn out to be 'Hylician soldiers', while the smaller number of black-robed warriors are referred to 'Achamites'. After the initial dealings with the shrines, all prisoners will be passed off to a squadron of Hylicians, though a few Achamites may follow along depending on the location.

Where are you all going? Back to Hylici, apparently.

WAITING

After you've been handed off to the the Hylician military, you have a long road ahead of you. Loaded up onto carts, and then eventually onto river borne boats, the people collected at the shrines will all be brought to a forest in the center of Horos. Along the way, the squadron ferrying you will combine with others from neighboring shrines, more and more captives arriving in your group the closer to your destination you get.

Along the way you will be fed and watered well enough (though only with military rations), and at night you will be given flimsy bedrolls to sleep around the fire with. Captives will be under constant watch by the Hylician guard, and anyone who shows any signs of resistance will be required to be bound by one of those magic whips, usually around the ankle or wrist. The rest of the trip is spent being pulled along in carts or the storage bays of boats. After the groups start converging, captives of the same legacy will not necessarily be kept together.

The final muster point of the Hylicians and their captives will be among forest ruins. For what purpose you have arrived they will not say, but the entire group will be camping there until preparations are complete. Sadly, you won't be allowed much space to explore - not without being bound and under watch. If you've behaved yourself it's possible to move about the central ruins, but only if the guards are confident they'll be able to wrangle you when necessary. It does allow for moderately private conversations along the pillars and walls of the ruins, but venturing out into the forest itself is definitely out of the question.

From beginning to end, characters will spent about two weeks in transit and waiting in the ruins. To what end is yet to be seen, but if you listen closely, you may hear whispers of a 'ritual space' being prepared.

QUESTIONS

Are everyone's homeworlds really gone?
That's a complicated issue, and while the fate of their world is not without hope, they may certainly get the impression its been destroyed from the dream they had. Alternatively, they may refuse to believe what they felt and attempt to dismiss it as only a vision. More about this situation will be revealed as the game goes on.

Can I only experience one end of the dream sequence prompt?
Characters may experience one ending, both endings, or neither. If they experience both they will struggle to recall which came first or which feels the most 'true' to them, as both will simultaneously be the thought they are reborn with. If your character refuses to pursue either path they can simply linger in the middle until the infinite worlds above them start being extinguished one by one, eventually expelling them into darkness in a similar style to the light prompt. Which dreams they experience will not dictate their intial sect affiliation.

Is it possible to pull another character back from the end of the light or darkness dreams?
Yes! If your character is able to resist the pull of either end, they will have the chance to try to pull another character back from the edge of the abyss or the edge of oneness. Whether or not they succeed is entirely up to the other character, though.

Do you come out of the chrysalis wet?
For most intents and purposes it's the same experience as hatching out of a real butterfly chrysalis, so yes, a bit.

Can my character resist the influence of the whips?
Those possessed of particularly strong wills may be able to struggle with the whip's control in brief spurts, but not long enough to make a full escape attempt. They may be able to take an impotent swing at one of the guards or fight against being pulled along, though. Naturally, doing this will indicate to the Hylicians that you are a problem, and their handling of you will become harsher the more it occurs.

How cruel will the Hylicians be to the player characters?
The Hylician military are not friendly people and come across as being a bit callous even at the best of times. However, unless you provoke them, they will be primarily focused on just getting the job done with as few interruption as possible. If your character makes a habit of pissing them off, either by constantly fighting back or just by being persistently obnoxious, their treatment will get worse. If driven to it, they may take the opportunity to take out their frustrations on particularly troublesome prisoners, via physical punishment, humiliation, or deprivation.

Comments

moiraine damodred | the wheel of time | the champion

[velvetoversteel]

i. waiting

[ It is not an entirely unfamiliar feeling, being unable to touch the True Source -- but that does not make it a pleasant one. There is not, for a mercy, a sense of being entirely cut off -- saidar is there, but lingering just out of Moiraine's reach. She cannot channel even the simplest of weaves, and even if she could, what would she do? Her life is not in danger, at least not by any means she can sense; her captors are cold, but do not seem inclined to brutalize her.

She does what she is told after some initial resistance acquaints her with one of the whips, a binding akin to a Compulsion weave. Her Warder is not here to defend her with his blade, she is surrounded by armed soldiers, and Moiraine is herself unarmed and clothed in naught more than a thin white shift. She has never taken especially well to being ordered about, but allows it only now because it seems the most practical thing to do while she considers her options. This is not what she expected, but the Pattern weaves in many ways one does not expect. It is what she tells herself, to keep her mind off of the vision of her own world's destruction she witnessed before arriving here. (It cannot be true, she reasons; besides the fact that there might be many reasons to have her believe her world is dead, Moiraine has never been especially gifted in Foretelling.)

There are others, more white-clothed people in similar straits as herself, and perhaps in such a time it might do her well to make acquaintances, if not yet friends or allies. She approaches someone who looks as if they have been particularly ill-treated by their captors, or who even simply looks lost or distressed. ]

This will not last. [ She pitches the words to sound reassuring, a certainty in her voice and bearing that she only partly feels. ] I imagine we are of some value to them.

[ Or they would already have killed us are the words she leaves hanging in the air. ]

ii. wildcard

( hit me up! Moiraine is mostly TV canon with some book stuff sprinkled in for flavor/backstory. PMs are welcome for discussion if you like c: )

[fingergunning]

[Jensen's in the 'lost' category. He can do well on his own- when he has orders to follow. He was a team player, good under pressure, but he worked best when he had people he was working with and for. Now? He wasn't sure if anyone he knew and loved still existed, if his world was real or not, and this whole situation was so surreal, he was wondering if it wasn't a bad hallucination.

He looked over at the words and where they came from, noticing the crispness in the tone and that surety that maybe she knew something he didn't. He also is pretty sure he picked up those unspoken words. He was a soldier, after all. He could read between the lines in a situation like this. He rubbed at his face, missing his glasses, then nodded, leaning against a pillar and scowling out over the forms of the 'better equipped than us' captors.]

Hostages usually are. Until they aren't. Trying to figure out what exactly it is we're of value for. As workers or food.

[God, he hoped the former. He didn't mind doing manual labor, and slaves could form a revolt of some kind, but winding up as some kind of blood sacrifice or pig slop wasn't exactly something he could recover from easily.]

[velvetoversteel]

[ There's a slight huff at the last; she hadn't considered the possibility of being anyone's dinner until he mentioned it, and she is certainly not about to end up in their captors' stew if she has anything to say about it. But -- she thinks that's unlikely. ]

Have you considered the possibility that perhaps we are the ones who pose the danger, and are yet of too much value to kill?

[ It seems improbable, at first glance. They are all of them weakened, and if Moiraine's own situation is anything to go by, what powers any of them might have had are unusable at the moment. And yet-- ]

When I-- awoke here, the cavern in which I arrived was surrounded by a fortress, a battalion of armed soldiers. As if there was something there that they feared might be a threat.

[ This is the first time she's voiced the thought aloud, and she keeps her voice down, so only he can hear her. The guards might not punish them for simply talking, but she has no desire to test what might happen should their conversation stray into certain subjects. ]

See how heavily armed they are. Would they need such accoutrements if not to defend themselves against something -- or someone?

[fingergunning]

We? I don't know how well you felt after crawling out of that... whatever the hell it was, but masculine ego aside, I'm pretty sure that a kitten could have taken me out. Definitely could have. Cats are fucking weird anyway, and I bet if they're here, they probably have like...

[He bit off, realizing he was going off on one of his venting ridiculous tangents that the guys might go along with, but some strange lady in the middle of a captive situation might not be too keen to hear.

Her voice is low and he's smart enough to figure she's trying to keep it from being overheard by at least the guards.]

Just as likely they might have been trying to keep someone else from reaching it, or that there's some other area there we didn't see. People like this?

[He gestured a little with his chin towards one of the guards, one of the quiet impassive ones that made him feel like they saw too much.]

They didn't put this together just for us. That armor's worn. They're an old hat at this. They're used to working together. You can always tell a random merc group from one that's had experience with each other. No confusion, no muss. Just... efficiency. That kind of behavior says there's at least one other group like them out there, if not more.

[The swords and whips made him think back to the Greek and Turkish wars, little bits of tiny kingdoms trying to carve out larger thrones. But he didn't remember anything about whips that could make you do shit you didn't want to. That was clearly a here thing.]

[velvetoversteel]

[ The ramble about cats, of all things, just earns a lift of her brows. ]

Sellswords? Or military? I should think the latter.

[ Moiraine sits back on her heels, thinking. ]

I felt-- unwell when I arrived [ --she's not actually going to say hatched, because that's ridiculous-- ] but that seems to have lessened, for the moment. Perhaps we will not always be so weak.

[ There's a pause, briefly, as of a woman weighing a decision that may be a great risk. Her right hand goes absently to her left for a moment, where her Great Serpent ring is not. Then she adds, ] If I could but touch the Source, the situation might be very different.

[ And she waits -- not with bated breath, exactly, but with anticipation for an expected reaction. She has just more or less told him outright that she is Aes Sedai, and that does not always go well. If she thought him a Darkfriend, or a Child of the Light, or someone equally so likely as to kill a channeler on sight -- she would have said nothing at all, but she's still expecting a reaction. Fear, or awe, or nervousness. ]

[fingergunning]

[The usage of 'sellsword' had the corner of his lip twitching. It was such a D&D phrase, he could almost feel the dice in his hand. Sellswords. God, this place was a trip. He nodded his head instead.]

Mercs don't generally all have the same getup. These guys? That's a uniform. Or, uniforms. There's the ones with the red and the ones in all black. I don't know about where you're from, but where I am, anyone in all black is usually some kind of super badass at something. God, I hope they're not ninjas.

[He was proficient at hand to hand, but not ninja style. Come on. Give a geek a break. She goes on, her hand moving as if looking to touch something and he recognizes that in the fifteen million times he's reached up to adjust his glasses and they haven't been there. Maybe she was married. He hadn't come with his tags either. Just scars and tattoos. And that fucking rock in his chest. He shrugs a half shoulder at her next comment, looking around.]

Not sure who the source for all of this might be. This whole thing is really out of my paygrade. Might be a king- or queen. [Gender inclusive in who might be in charge.] General? Hell, I don't know. For all I know, it's a dragon and we're all the new virgins for sacrifice. Which is wrong on so many levels...

[Nope, sorry, Moiraine. He had no idea about magic or magical ladies with magical lady powers.]

jensen pls surely you know about magical lady powers

[velvetoversteel]

[ If she had any idea what a ninja was, she'd probably agree with him. As it is, he's about halfway through the next sentence before she realizes-- ]

You've no idea what I meant, do you?

[ And that takes her aback, in a way very few things do. Anyone she's ever met would have taken from context that she was referring to the True Source, the wellspring of the One Power. She might be staring at him slightly like he's got two heads, or something similarly bizarre -- unusual for such a typically composed and calm person to actually display surprise, if not shock. ]

moiraine, if he knew about magic lady powers, he'd be pestering her with questions

[fingergunning]

What? What... sure I did. You- uh...

[Give him a sec, Moiraine. Where did she lose him? No, he didn't see anything weird in what he'd said, other than the small cat rant she'd generously glossed over. Okay, fine. He was lost.]

Nope. Sorry. What part of what did I miss? Was it the dragon? I shouldn't have mentioned dragons, should I have? They're not real or anything. I mean, not really real. Unless here they are. Which I don't think they are. Here. Or real, that is-

[Help him.]

:>

[velvetoversteel]

[ Yes, he seems to have, in fact, missed what she meant entirely. It's both utterly perplexing and an odd relief, because at least she knows now that he won't try to kill her or control her over what she is. Most likely. ]

The Source -- the True Source, from which all channelers receive the One Power.

[ Moiraine almost says all Aes Sedai, then corrects herself at the last instant. Not all channelers are Aes Sedai, though privately she thinks any woman who has not trained in the White Tower is risking her own life needlessly.

Then again, not all channelers are women, either, but that's another story. ]

Is it not familiar to you?

[ A question she has to make herself ask. She doesn't even stop to consider such a thing might not exist where he's from -- just that he is, perhaps, from somewhere very, very backwater. ]

<3

[fingergunning]

[Controlling women was not his vibe, Moiraine. Being controlled, sure, but that wasn't a topic for conversation when surrounded by a bunch of soldiers with- okay, maybe he'd probably talk about it, but they weren't, so moving on was a good idea.]

... I literally have no idea what you're talking about. Is this a god thing? Are you talking about like... heaven and god or something? Like... faith?

[So over his head. He could see that she was serious about what she was talking about, that she was seemingly surprised he had no idea, and he had to wonder if that was a country of origin thing or a 'maybe she's from one of those weird cosplay places' type things. There were elves here, okay? He was trying to be cool about it.]

Because yeah, I'm not the religious type. Not religious religious, anyway. I'm all for praying to the porcelain god after a bad hangover or being the god of tech, which I'm sadly not but one day might achieve that level of ability-

[And then he trailed off, because it brought back that dream and feeling when he was "hatched" of the fact that he didn't have a world anymore. That everyone and everything he knew was gone, and he'd never touch a yellow hummer or iOS again.]

[velvetoversteel]

[ She laughs, very soft and disbelieving. At first she wants to believe he's joking, but he's just as serious about not knowing what she's talking about as she is about her subject matter.

--and perhaps, given to babbling when he's off balance. Moiraine sighs a little, and sits down on a nearby block of stone from the ruins, adjusting the hem of her robe so it covers her knees. She feels more exposed than she'd prefer, not that there's anything she can do about that at the moment. ]

The True Source is the wellspring of all life. From the Source flows the One Power. Those who have the ability to access the Power are called channelers.

[ She's picking over her words carefully, in the manner of someone who's never had to explain this before. ]

It can be used for great good -- or for great destruction, in the wrong hands.

[ Moiraine pauses, lifts both her hands, and her fingers move in the very simplest weave she learned as a novice -- one which should produce a ball of light above her fingers. It doesn't happen, and she lets her hands drop with a frustrated exhalation. ]

I can't use it here -- for now. Perhaps someday I will demonstrate.

i

[coerthantorment]

[Moiraine will be coming upon him after a fresh encounter with the guards. It's not clear what started it this time - though she'll probably have noticed that Estinien is one of the usual suspects when it comes to punishments being dispensed - instead, she'll only see the end. He's hauled towards the firepit by the hair and forcibly pushed down to the ground. Highly unnecessary, given that he's already bound at the ankle by the soldier's whip.

The soldier manhandling him spits something in his ear before standing up and heading back to his post. Estinien himself doesn't seem to be permitted to get up by the enchantment of the whip, and so he stays on the ground groveling despite himself.

When Moiraine speaks, a shiver goes through him, feeling the humiliation of the moment more intensely now that he knows he's been observed. Still, he growls a response, doing his best to seem unmoved by his treatment.]

We have to be... 'else I'd already be naught but blood on their dagger.

[velvetoversteel]

[ It's absolutely unnecessary; Moiraine's lips thin and her jaw sets, especially when he's dragged by the hair. She's avoided provoking the guards, not because she's afraid of them -- she is afraid, but not of them -- but because she thinks it may be more practical not to. Ever the pragmatist, looking for ways to turn the situation to her advantage.

But if she had this man's build and what she suspects would be a great deal of strength in a better situation, perhaps -- perhaps -- she might fight back. He's obviously no stranger to battle, and being handled in such a way surely leaves him sore in the emotional sense. ]

Well, one may at least credit you for trying.

[ The words are dry; she doesn't fault him, not really, even though she thinks there's a certain amount of futility in pushing back against their demonstrably stronger captors. Moiraine sighs, looks him over. If she could touch saidar -- if she were not being shielded by some force or power she doesn't recognize -- she would at least Heal him. As it is she's struck by how little she can actually do to help, aside from providing him company.

But she does walk away after a moment to fetch one of the bottles of water, because she thinks the guards may have allowed her new acquaintance only as much as he's needed to stay alive. One of them gives her a suspicious look, and she raises a placating hand as if to emphasize she is, in fact, not a threat -- though now, associating with this man may have made her someone to watch. If there are consequences to that, she'll deal with it later. ]

Here. [ She hands the bottle to Estinien. ] If you're at all thirsty.

[ Or perhaps he just needs something to wash the taste of blood out of his mouth. ]

[coerthantorment]

[When she first leaves, he assumes she has simply decided to mind her own business and won't be back, so he's actually a bit surprised when she returns with water. She's correct in her guesses - they've been only been feeding him as much as necessary to keep him going. The more hungry and thirsty he is, the more pliable he is to manipulation, after all.

At first, he isn't even capable of getting off his hands and knees, crumpled low on the ground as if in placation. Yet, as the guard controlling him lets their attention drift to chortling with their fellows, he is at least able to move his hands, even if he can't get himself to stand up. He accepts the water and drinks deep, trying to put down as much as possible before the guards take it away from him. When he speaks again he has to gasp for air first.]

My thanks...

[His thanks are genuine but subdued, as if he doesn't want to be heard by anyone else observing. His ego is as badly beaten as his body, if not worse. Though he has never cared much for fame, compliments, or the opinions of others in general, he does have some pride in himself, largely centered around his skill and ability to get things done. When you value your own agency so much, this sort of helplessness cuts deep.

He defines himself as a warrior, after all. What good is he crumpled on the ground, helplessly starving, dressed in bloody rags? It feels as if everything he recognizes about himself is being stripped away.]

[velvetoversteel]

[ She allows a smile, slight and with an edge of sympathy, and settles down next to him, smoothing the length of her white robe over her legs. Moiraine doesn't need his thanks, as such; she suspects he might have done the same, were their positions reversed. ]

I had not expected them to be so cruel. Though perhaps I should have.

[ She's not been the one fighting them every step of the way, but at one point she had thought, perhaps, their captors might have been amenable to reason. It's beginning to seem less and less like that might be the case. ]

[coerthantorment]

[He admittedly hadn't even tried to reason with them at any point, but maybe that's because the first soldiers he met with were the black-robed ones who only seemed to speak in ominous proclamations about souls. Maybe he's just too familiar with how soldiers work when they're under orders, and how much it can take to make them question their loyalty. He expects that violence is the language they both understand best.

He can't fault someone for hoping for better, though. He finds it compelling, even.]

I made an enemy of them from the start.

[He has to admit that much. It wasn't as if they simply decided upon him as a target at random.]

I'd been intent on escaping... struck one in the face trying to get the leash out of their hands. The moment I drew blood their minds were made up... they'd been given their excuse.

[With bored soldiers, that's all it would take - just a bit of justification. With the worst of their lot, it'd be seen as a bit of fun. He could see it in their eyes when they looked at him, laughing amongst themselves as if placing bets on his fate.]

[velvetoversteel]

Perhaps. But it was in their hands to choose to exercise restraint.

[ Moiraine knows what he means, though. Some who pass themselves off as soldiers are simply bullies in poor disguise. ]

We will have our moment to break free, [ she says, as if she knows for certain. She doesn't, but relying on her usual confidence and composure has got her this far. ] But now is not that moment.

[coerthantorment]

[She says that so boldly, one would almost think that she had knowledge of a scheme that would lead to such an event. He can't see how, though. To him, their prospects are steadily getting worse, not better.]

What makes you think that?

[He's willing to hear her thoughts, but too much confidence can be its own drug. When are they meant to have their moment, he wonders?]

To me, it seems as if we are reaching the end. If their intent for us is anything like the slavers of my own world, there'll be no coming back.

[velvetoversteel]

[ Moiraine shakes her head, frowning a little in thought. ]

We will have been brought here for some reason. Someone has gone to the trouble of dragging us here from our own worlds -- to do what? Enslave or kill us? What is this 'ritual' I've heard them speak of?

[ She sighs. These are all mostly rhetorical questions; she doesn't expect him to have the answers. And yet-- ] We've some greater purpose for being here. I'm nearly certain of it.

[ This is a woman who believes strongly in fate and has conducted most of her adult life around a series of prophecies. She's probably not going to change her mind. ]

[coerthantorment]

[He shrugs his shoulders. Something about her confidence in the matter makes him feel more comfortable being contrary and exposing his own doubts. After all, this is the sort of hopeless feeling situation where he would like to be convinced.]

In my realm, a 'ritual' would only mean that we were about to be enslaved. There are beasts called Primals... summoned gods that break the will of all those exposed to them. 'Twas not uncommon for soldiers and civilians alike to be captured for this purpose, offering up their manufactured faith to strengthen the Primal's influence.

[He scoffs.]

Though, normally they need not go as far as plucking their prey from other worlds.

[raimaidou]

[It's not so much that Barbara is lost, but she's very much keeping to herself when it comes to her fellow captives and it's hard to pretend otherwise; she stands out as one of the tallest here, reaching an impressive eight feet tall. Yet in contrast to her stature, her demeanour is far more reserved. With her hands folded in front of her, head somewhat bowed and having made no real effort to approach anyone else just yet, it's likely a strange sight to see.

Even as she is approached and offered comforting words, the oni simply bows her head further in thanks to Moiraine.]

Yes. While our circumstances have not been exactly ideal, they've made no effort to inflict harm upon me as of yet. I suppose that is something.

[An answer which also seems to imply she made no effort to resist so far herself, which seems even more absurd as being up close offers a better view of her horns, sharp teeth and clawed hands that one would think offered her the best chance of everyone to put up a fight.]

[velvetoversteel]

[ Hello, enormous lady. Moiraine is used to having to look up at people, being a small woman, but she's never quite had to crane her neck so much before. ]

It is, yes. [ Though she can't imagine what harm they could do to this woman -- unless everyone truly did awaken feeling weaker than a day-old kitten. ]

I believe we're here for a reason. [ A pause. ] This 'ritual' I've heard the soldiers mention -- have you heard anything about it?

[raimaidou]

My apologies, but I'm afraid I haven't. They haven't been particularly forthcoming.

[The thing about being huge is it doesn't exactly lend itself very well to being sneaky or picking things up subtly...even if it did, she isn't that kind of person anyway. It's why her attempts simply involved directly asking, which unfortunately didn't yield much in the way of results.]

At this point, I'm merely awaiting the outcome. If their intentions for us are less than kind, I suppose...I'll do what I can.

[Even if she doesn't feel nearly as up to punching things as usual, but she'd rather go down fighting than roll over. She's a professional, but she isn't a pushover.]

[velvetoversteel]

No, they haven't, have they.

[ It's not really a question; the two of them are in the same metaphorical boat where that is concerned.

She smiles, very thinly, up at the other woman. ]

Are you a fighter, then?

[ It's not terribly unusual for women to fight with their hands, or with a blade, where Moiraine comes from -- but unusual enough among her acquaintances that the idea is a bit of a novelty. ]

i waiting

[dragon_rider]

[ Hiccup scrubbed at his face, irritation threading a grim line across his mouth. His mind has been too awake since the 'rebirth' within the crystals. Every ounce of Viking blood in him had told him to fight back when their captives came, barely offering a word of their meaning. He's always hated being told what to do, finds he hates it more when he's not even given even half an explanation. ]

[ Mind having whirred from the people missing to his position, he'd fought at first — Years on the edge and training with Astrid had made him better at hand-to-hand, but he lacks his favored sword and there's really nothing to do when you're armed with nothing but your prosthetic. And though part of him thought to check on its knife mode, decidedly doesn't look (last thing he needed was them trying to take it off and having to hobble along, a fact he was certain they might try). ]

[ There's a certain level of agitation he can't quite shake, the part of him that's never liked feeling trapped bubbling just below the surface. He tries, at least, not to take it out on his fellow captives. So when the woman approaches, his arms fold and mouth dips down into a yet grimmer line. ]

We're only of value to them until they get whatever they want out of us. [ Said by someone who's experienced captivity before: ] Until they get that, whatever that is, we're here — I'm more concerned about what that is.