RORY
Rory wasn't one who read the Notice Board very often, and that day was no different: he just knew what the notice said because it was read out loud, time and time again.The words became daggers. Poison. Northwind. Ronin. Captain. Destroy. Destroy. Destroy—
His heart was a strange and heavy thing in his chest. While Rory hadn't known Ronin all that much, he had instinctively liked the guy, and despite his desire to see the Outlanders punished for their impatience and stubbornness .. he hadn't wanted any of them dead. Rory didn't want anyone dead (every rule has exceptions, though).
When the notice came up some time had passed since the Demon's defeat, and Rory had drifted into the Settlement on errands, listening to the hushed talk, hushed voices, smelled the fear and the confusion. Some were excited, chomping at the bit, eager to get out—
But many felt mournful. This was the end of everything they had known. And time did not soften the blow.
There was dissent. Unrest. Unease. Who were these Outlanders, who had come to their home? Who charmed their Gods and were at the heart of so much change? Who defeated their Demon?
And who now spoke of breaching the Spire. Who spoke of destroying the barrier, no matter the dangers it could pose. Who gambled with the lives of thousands, who didn't even wait for Ronin's family and friends to finish grieving, and: who dared pretend to have Caido's best interests at heart.
That was the bit were it got ugly. That was the last drop of a too-bitter brew. The crowd outside the Temple was uneasy, frustrated, restless, dry kindling very close to sparks.
So much mumbling, some raised voices, but not much else. Not much .. direction.
The whole thing tasted bad to Rory, who saw a few familiar faces in the crowd,
But one thing was clear: no one was pleased with the idea of an Outlander rushing to destroy the Spire's secrets, without a regard for gods or people. Jigano said as much as well: they should study it, and they should have plans, not just smash it and hope for the best.
"You might want to be a bird for this," Rory murmured to Jigano. "And I will say things I don't quite mean. I just.. this needs to end before we all die. You understand that, don't you?" The gaze he gave his friend was worried, imploring; Rory had to play the Outlander vs Natural narrative, or this would not work. But that did not mean that he meant it; that did not mean that he disliked Jigano.
But Jigano would be at risk. No one would know he was an Outlander if all they saw was a white bird. He reached for the bard's hand and gave it a small squeeze, hoping the white-haired one would know to keep himself, and his gryphon, safe.
He made his way to the front of the mob. He was no speaker. No leader. Not a man fond of crowds. "People of Caido!" he began, and a hush began to fall over those gathered. "Former Captain Roana Steadman of somewhere that is not here is willing to gamble with our lives, for.. what? Pride?" A spooked horse needs little reason to spook more. A vexed crowd needs little reason to become a mob, once you give it a target. "Glory?" They knew what he was doing. And they went along with it. "Barely have they begun to understand the loss of their friend, and already they invite more death." The silence was more of a murmur, his pauses filled with some shouts of 'aye' and 'fuck 'em' and the likes.
"And not just death upon themselves! But death upon us, too. It's right here! They will 'destroy the power sustaining the barrier, regardless of the possible dangers posed'. Do you hear that? Regardless of the possible dangers posed." He let it sit in their minds.
They didn't need his imagination when they had their own.
"She claims it is in service to the people of Caido to do this! But she does not speak for us! She does not make decisions for us! We are Caido, and we say no!"
And when you have successfully created a mob, what do you do with it? How do you control it?
Very carefully.
"The Spire is our past, our present, and our future: it is ours to study and to know. It is not theirs to destroy on a whim," he went on, with a little less fire in his voice. "We must protect it from those who would seek to destroy it for glory. We must protect it, so that we may know and understand our Gods! We must stop this idiocy!"
He breathed in. The air smelled of fury.
"People of Caido! Are you with me?!" Cries of agreement. Shaken fists. He roared at them again, "I said, are you with me?!" and they roared right back.
He was on fire.
"To the Spire!"
And that was how the Spire found itself guarded by a mob, through the long hours of the night, into the pale morning mists: more and more joined the cause. The hour of high noon approached.
They would not let brashness and impatience be the end of them. They would not sit idly by and watch the last shreds of the lives they had known be taken from them in such a reckless, disrespectful way.
They would protect the Spire.
Summary: the day Roana's notice goes up, Rory works the unhappy crowd into a mob to protect the Spire. They camp around he Spire during the night, think of it being set up as a little camp, honestly, with cookfires, someone's got supplies for some tents, etc. More and more keep joining as words spread and by the time of Roana's announced foray into the Spire, about a hundred Naturals (at least) have gathered to guard the Spire.
as if you were on fire from within,
the moon lives in the lining of your skin.
the moon lives in the lining of your skin.
