Scott DeWar
Prof. Emeritus-Supernatural Events/Countermeasure
[sblock=mowgli] *shudder* night time is coming[/sblock]
Malvoisin's Council of Thieves, Act I - The Bastards of Erebus [IC]
- Thread starter Malvoisin
- Start date
Mark Chance
Boingy! Boingy!
Rolf leaves his lute leaning near the entrance and proceeds to the food. He meticulously fills a plate with breads, fruits, vegetables, and legumes before taking a seat and tucking in.
Malvoisin
First Post
As the minutes tick by, Janiven grows quiet and focuses on her food. She is clearly unsettled, looking nervously in the direction of the tavern door intermittently, clearly disappointed each time when no one emerges through it. Finally, with dinner over, and still at least two hours to go before sundown, Janiven stands. She walks across the room, locks the front door and shutters the windows, then turns to face the table. She takes a deep breath before speaking.
"Well, I'm certain that no one wants to remain here after dark, so I'll try to keep this as brief as possible...there should be plenty of time to get home before sunset. Again, thank you for agreeing to meet with me here. I have chosen each of you for a singular reason—everyone here, myself included...yes, including you, Marcus, whom Desna herself has guided to our meeting today...has suffered, whether we realize it or not. I have lived in Westcrown my whole life, and although I love this city, I must admit, as must you, that despite our peace and prosperity, we continue to suffer. Fear should not be an expected part of life, and yet each night brings fear to our doorsteps. Yes, Westcrown has been safe from war and famine for nearly seventy years, and yes, our businesses have prospered—but this safety and prosperity has been bought in the coinage of fear and prayers to Hell. Other lands live free from tyranny. Other cities do not fear the night. Other governments do not cede the streets to monsters of the infernal shadows. Westcrown was once such a place, and she wants to be such a place again. Westcrown is not only her buildings and canals and docks and history—she is also her people. Westcrown is our friends and neighbors, our mothers and fathers, our siblings and cousins, our sons and daughters! With but a small group of supporters and dedicated brothers and sisters, we can earn the trust and admiration of those people. A Westcrown free of these shadowy beasts that stalk our streets is one step closer to a Westcrown free of the devil that is the Thrice-Damned House of Thrune!”
It is a short speech, but delivered with a great passion not seen previously in Janiven. She pauses again for a deep breath, allowing time for replies.
"Well, I'm certain that no one wants to remain here after dark, so I'll try to keep this as brief as possible...there should be plenty of time to get home before sunset. Again, thank you for agreeing to meet with me here. I have chosen each of you for a singular reason—everyone here, myself included...yes, including you, Marcus, whom Desna herself has guided to our meeting today...has suffered, whether we realize it or not. I have lived in Westcrown my whole life, and although I love this city, I must admit, as must you, that despite our peace and prosperity, we continue to suffer. Fear should not be an expected part of life, and yet each night brings fear to our doorsteps. Yes, Westcrown has been safe from war and famine for nearly seventy years, and yes, our businesses have prospered—but this safety and prosperity has been bought in the coinage of fear and prayers to Hell. Other lands live free from tyranny. Other cities do not fear the night. Other governments do not cede the streets to monsters of the infernal shadows. Westcrown was once such a place, and she wants to be such a place again. Westcrown is not only her buildings and canals and docks and history—she is also her people. Westcrown is our friends and neighbors, our mothers and fathers, our siblings and cousins, our sons and daughters! With but a small group of supporters and dedicated brothers and sisters, we can earn the trust and admiration of those people. A Westcrown free of these shadowy beasts that stalk our streets is one step closer to a Westcrown free of the devil that is the Thrice-Damned House of Thrune!”
It is a short speech, but delivered with a great passion not seen previously in Janiven. She pauses again for a deep breath, allowing time for replies.
Maidhc O Casain
Na Bith Mo Riocht Tá!
Slip
"Agreed. I'd love to see the street kids in Dospera safe at night, well fed and cared for. But I just don't think it's gonna happen!"
"Agreed. I'd love to see the street kids in Dospera safe at night, well fed and cared for. But I just don't think it's gonna happen!"
Scott DeWar
Prof. Emeritus-Supernatural Events/Countermeasure
"And I am a simple scribe and messenger"
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Malvoisin
First Post
"Wiser? That's a laugh. More powerful? Perhaps for now...but more corrupt? That's a certainty! Don't you see, these creatures are not the real problem...it's the powers that be in this city! That arrogant fop of a 'Lord Mayor' and the wretched old nobility that squabble amongst themselves for the table scraps cast their way by the diabolists in Egorian! Do you think they really want to eliminate the threats that stalk our streets after darkness falls? These creatures are a tool to keep the common folk of the city safely out of the way and underfoot...just like the Hellknights, the dottari...but I say no longer!"
"This is exactly what they wish you to believe! We must be stronger, we must come together and force a change! Not as rioters or rabble rousers, but as protectors. We must win the admiration of the ordinary citizen through good deeds."
If Marcus expected Janiven to be disappointed, he finds her just the opposite. "By Desna, that's wonderful news! This battle may need strength of arms before the deed is done, but sometimes the pen is mightier than the sword! You could print literature to be distributed on the streets, taking the message to..."
At that moment, Janiven's impassioned plea is interrupted by a sudden, insistent pounding on the tavern's front door. She immediately tenses and whirls to face the unexpected noise, hand on swordhilt.
Scott DeWar
Prof. Emeritus-Supernatural Events/Countermeasure
Janivan's impassioned speach entwines the heart chords of marcus, strumming thum with love as she speaks of doing good. he almost jumps out of his skin whne the pounding on the door wakes him, his sword already halfway out before he can stop himself. He is on his feen looking about for a defensive location in half a heartbeat, which at that moment was about 3 beats per second
Maidhc O Casain
Na Bith Mo Riocht Tá!
Slip
Slip, too, feels the emotional impact of Janiven's words. She's beginning to allow herself to imagine Dospero transformed into a place of safety, really getting into the speech, when the pounding at the door jerks her back to reality.
She's out of her chair, back to a wall in a split second, one hand on the hilt of her Falcata over her shoulder.
Slip, too, feels the emotional impact of Janiven's words. She's beginning to allow herself to imagine Dospero transformed into a place of safety, really getting into the speech, when the pounding at the door jerks her back to reality.
She's out of her chair, back to a wall in a split second, one hand on the hilt of her Falcata over her shoulder.
CanadienneBacon
Explorer
Quinne stops herself from reflexively shuddering as the preternaturally pale woman crosses the room and seats herself. Have to get used to new...friends...if I'm leaving behind Grandmatron's money and position, Quinne privately muses.
Quinne's unease manifests as a forced whisper through gritted teeth. "Thought we were all just here for the buffet." The swordswoman gives in to last-minute impulse and winks at Thorn for good measure. Then, surprised at her own humor, Quinne resolutely crosses her arms and stiffens as unease returns.
