||EVENT|| NPCS GALOOOOORE

[rowan_narrators]

The fleet of human ships breaks free of the swamp and sails, through rain that ranges from drizzling to pouring, across an open lake and then along a shoreline, mostly shrouded in mist. As with any journey, the end of it seems the longest; the shore drags on apparently to eternity

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Mod's Choice

[cherry_reyer]

Cherry was only too happy to take Cordelia's suggestion of a walk. The boats were getting stifling and she couldn't really handle the close quarters right now. When Cordelia left the decision of which way to travel up to Cherry, she practically closed her eyes, spun around, and chose a direction. This was one of those instances, she supposed, where the journey was more significant than the destination. And, in an odd way, going without knowing where she was going was a small sparkle of the old Cherry. Hell, it was a sparkle of the old Samantha, truth be told.

She walked silently, holding onto Cordelia's hand as if it were her lifeline. She felt she ought to say something, but her words were failing her. The closeness was really all she needed. She didn't know what Cordelia needed. "Sure is...scenic." Poor choice of words. They had once been her friends! Why had they betrayed her now?

[cordy_estwynde]

Cordelia turned to give Cherry a funny look. Scenic? Really? This burned down dungheap of a city?

"Sure," she replied, giving Cherry's hand a squeeze. Cordy had never been much of an adventurer to begin with, but things on this trip were just getting worse and worse. More than ever, she wanted to go back to Hyrule. That was impossible, she knew, so for now, she would have been content to be back in Jhelbor.

"I wonder how long we're going to be here," she spoke, not really expecting an answer. Things in Rowan were impossible to predict. You thought you'd be running a tavern for a good long while and then you were teleported into a desert. You were admiring the blue, cloudless sky, and a wizard made a poodle fall out of the sky and onto your head.

[rowan_narrators]

It was Thrace's fault that he hadn't heard them coming. He'd been rapidly weaving together a piece of rope, from scraps he'd recovered from an abandoned shop, crouched against one of the pylons of the unusable, burned-down docks along the edge of the city.

When he finally heard the sound of voices, they startled him; he knocked over the glass bottle, next to him, and it fell, shattering on the stone of the exposed lake bed below.

Couldn't really play that one off.

He moved to his feet. They were visible, not fifteen meters away, a little further down the quay. His hand moved to his bow, though he didn't think there was a threat. The cease-fire was being obeyed by everyone.

[cherry_reyer]

Cherry heard the bottle break. Her head snapped in the direction of the sound with lightning speed. It was strange, but the sound of breaking glass always triggered a flight or fight mechanism in her. A memory. Breaking glass. Fire. A girl in the ballet screaming as crimson blood blossomed down her white tights. People running, frightened and confused. But no, this was Rowan and the sound had stopped.

She realized that her grip on Cordelia's hand had tightened and quickly let go. Her fingers were tingling. "Not scenic," she whispered fiercely. "Decidedly not scenic."

Mods can choose

[ebony_musician]

Touya wasn't sure what to make of this. The city's state was unsettling at best, and he'd spotted the occasional person before they disappeared from sight. Overall, it was enough to make the fur on his tail bristle.

Cris likely wouldn't be pleased that he'd wandered off alone, but he had anyway. He stayed within the city though, not at all sure about approacching the armies. He also didn't want to get lost. Curious as he was though, he was sitting on a roof near the southwestern edge of the city in an attempt to see what was going on. Drawing up his leg to rest his arm on his knee, he sat patiently and quietly.

[rowan_narrators]

In the room underneath the spot of roof Touya was sitting on, hiding in a cloak cupboard, a little girl wiped her eyes and held her breath. Another one. Another army to rip and tear through the city, taking what they liked and recruiting for their side of the war until there was no one left.

She was out of friends, she was out of proper food, and she was sure she was running out of time. They would find her, and they would make her kill, and there was nothing she could do about it. Alone in her cupboard, hungry and scared and miserable, Treena started crying, and she couldn't stop.

[ebony_musician]

The crying reached Touya's ears and he tilted his head to better hear. Someone was nearby. Moving to the edge of the roof, he hopped down and landed lightly on his feet. His tail flicked as he tried to pinpoint the voice which came from inside the building he'd been sitting on.

He wandered around until he found a window to climb in through, and began searching for the person he knew had to be there. It took him a few moments to locate the cupboard, and he paused when he had for a moment. Unsure of how to proceed, he gently knocked on the door before pulling it open.

[rowan_narrators]

"Stay away from me!" Weird thing with ears and tail and she had no idea what it was supposed to be, but it was nothing normal. A gust of wind strong enough to throw Touya away from the cupboard swept in through the window and pushed him back, and Treena jumped out of the cupboard and just started running, down the hallway, past the classrooms, trying to get away.

[rowan_narrators]

Tarn whistles as he works.

His rough-made leather headband pushes his spiky, unruly hair out of his face. His clothes and skin are streaked with soot. There's a fire going, a good five meters away, far enough that what he's working on won't accidentally ignite. He's mixing it up in a cauldron -- a thick, odd-smelling paste. It'll likely be the most powerful explosive he's come up with yet.

[rowan_narrators]

"If you've got any fire on you, don't come any closer," calls Tarn, without even looking up from what he's doing. "As I imagine you're fond of your eyebrows." He is, in fact, rather fond of his. They grew in late, and he'd singed them off more than once, so he knew what it was like to go without.