In Dreams
Jigano Silversmith
the Sage
Provost of the Loreseekers Soul Shepherd
Portal Guardian
Age: 36 | Height: 6'2" | Race: Attuned x Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 12 - Strg: 30 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 38 - Luck: 42 - Int:
ISUMA - Mythical - Griffin (Venomous)
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#1
Elation and terror. Those were what he had felt after the initial shock had worn off and he had examined the marble-like gem that had been beside him in Rory's bed, rolling it between his fingers as the dream remained to guide him. A great responsibility, a great honor, but also so great a chance to fail again, as he had once already.

Amalia. Remi. Phoebe.

At first light he had penned quick notes to all three, sending clever crows to deliver them to the respective homes or businesses of each, asking if he could see them as soon as was convenient.

It was part-instinct, part tradition that had led him to the bakery's door later that day, hesitantly letting himself in amid the warmth and sumptuous smells of Chandrakant cooking. Though he hadn't yet heard back from the others, he wouldn't be surprised if they found their ways to Devas Bakery as well, the shop being convenient between most of them.

Filled with painful memories, but convenient.

"Amalia?" he called hesitantly. "Is anyone else here yet?"

Remi Phoebe Amalia
Remi Taliesin
the Bastion


Age: 31 | Height: 5'11 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
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#2
Я
The alchemist was soon to follow. He looked...unimpressed. His sunny smiles had been seen more regularly than prior to LongNight, but now he looked entirely soured and boyishly unhappy as he pushed the door open. Chewing the inside of his lip, he offered Jigano a weary nod. Everything that might have been said as a preamble already had been in the Sage's note. The dream. The items. The task. As it was the alchemist was already indebted to one god. He'd agreed to that. This? No.

Amalia made sense, given that she was a natural. Jigano too, given what Remi took his ambitions and experience to be. Phoebe, he could make a case for. But himself? He wanted no part of this. He wanted the portals to be opened.

He wanted the sea and to be as far away with Ronin as he could.

"I suppose there is no point in saying much until the others arrive." He said, sitting down at the table and anxiously rubbing a finger against the wood grain.
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Phoebe Steadman
the Nightingale
Midwife

Age: 26 | Height: 5'9" | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Greatwood
Level: 5 - Strg: 32 - Dext: 46 - Endr: 41 - Luck: 41 - Int:
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#3



phoebe
She had awoken with a start, short of breath, and with such suddenness that even Pim woke to stare at her, grumpy he couldn't sleep in now. Brown eyes had found the marble on her bedside table, and with it a terrifying sense of responsibility. Her clinic, the College, the Infirmary, her three nephews and now this? How much more could she bear on her own?

But she had quickly risen and dressed, and by the time she was downstairs, the note from Jigano was on her doorstep. A meeting. Of course. It made plenty of sense. Once she had gotten the boys ready and settled with her oh so kind NPC neighbor to make the narrator's life simpler, Phoebe set out for the bakery, grumpy dragonling at her side. Quietly she poked her head in, the marble she had found weighing heavy in her skirt pocket. "I'm sorry I'm late, the boys were slow to get up this morning." she said softly, quickly taking a seat by Remi while Pim found a warm place to curl up.
pink is my favorite color
Amalia Chandrakant
the Archangel
Baker

Age: 29 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
Level: 5 - Strg: 49 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 52 - Luck: 49 - Int:
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#4
Amalia
she wants the silence but fears the solitude
she wants to be alone and together with you
Amalia is in the basement when they arrive, and a not insignificant part of her considers staying there until they leave.

She does not, of course.

She can see it as soon as she steps into the room, emerging from behind the counter with a tray of cups and a pot of tea. The same dream. The same knowledge. The same weight in her apron pocket that they all must feel, the same responsibility that hangs over them, their voices quiet, their eyes subdued. Wordlessly Amalia places the tray down upon the wooden table, sliding cups to each of them before silently pouring tea. That they are all here does not surprise her, though she really thinks it should. In some strange way the bakery has become an epicenter of change, the place where they gather in triumph and defeat, to plan and to ponder, to build and tear down. Five seasons ago the building stood empty but for a layer of dust, but now? Now it is alive in ways that Anjali Chandrakant never could have dreamed.

"So. How should we begin?"

She does not sit: she is too nervous, too energetic, her cheeks flushed and her dark gaze uncertain as it flits between the other three. None of the others seem happy, but Amalia? Amalia's heart is a thunderous cacophony of excitement and anxiety, both terrified and elated at the prospect of this purpose, the daunting enormity of the responsibility entrusted unto them.
she ran to the lighthouse, hoped that it would help her see
she saw that the lighthouse had been washed out to sea
Jigano Silversmith
the Sage
Provost of the Loreseekers Soul Shepherd
Portal Guardian
Age: 36 | Height: 6'2" | Race: Attuned x Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 12 - Strg: 30 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 38 - Luck: 42 - Int:
ISUMA - Mythical - Griffin (Venomous)
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Posts: 3,914 | Total: 7,219
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#5
He tilted a nod of agreement to Remi, quiet for the moment as he wrestled with the enormity of the task laid before them. Phoebe was a given a slight shake of his head at her apology, though, and a quiet: "You're not late, don't worry." It wasn't exactly a well-planned gathering so much as a haphazard need to confirm what the new sense within his chest was telling him: that these people were now bound with him to some task greater than any they could have guessed.

And then Amalia arrived with refreshments, a gracious hostess but by no means a calm one. Jigano took a cup and poured himself some tea to hold, taking comfort from both the warmth and familiarity of the routine as he nodded at her question and looked around at their little gathering of erstwhile guardians. Amalia made sense, Shield that she was, and Phoebe did as well for her piety to Frey. But he and Remi? "I don't really know," he admitted slowly. "It's all very... overwhelming, still." He hadn't meant to pause so long, but there were so many words that could apply. Like incredible... but also frightening. "I guess I wanted to know what everyone else thought of this. The dream, the... task." He glanced around the table from one to another of his fellows, spreading his hands in silent request for them to share their opinions and ideas on the events of the previous night.
Phoebe Steadman
the Nightingale
Midwife

Age: 26 | Height: 5'9" | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Greatwood
Level: 5 - Strg: 32 - Dext: 46 - Endr: 41 - Luck: 41 - Int:
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#6



phoebe
Phoebe was glad she wasn’t late, and smiled at Amalia as she arrived, trying to key in to her more calming demeanor in the wake of her nervousness. There was a collective sense of unease it seemed, and she could at least draw on one of her skillsets to hopefully exude the calm they all needed.

Quietly she took a cup of tea as well, holding it in both hands as she listened quietly, to both Amalia and Jigano. ”It makes sense…and the selections logical in a way. One for Vi.” she said softly, looking at Amalia. ”One for Mort.” she said, brown eyes sliding to Jigano. ”And…siblings, in a sense, for Rae.” she said, smiling softly at Remi before looking at the collective whole again. ”But that said…I am not certain how useful I will be in this task. I am not a fighter.” she said quietly, looking at her cup of tea. She wondered after Rae’s choice of her. Surely of all those who worshipped Rae and Frey, there were other siblings who were more suited to defending something so important.
pink is my favorite color
Remi Taliesin
the Bastion


Age: 31 | Height: 5'11 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 15 - Strg: 68 - Dext: 60 - Endr: 100 - Luck: 93 - Int: 3
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#7
Я
It was unfair to Phoebe that the three of them could communicate their feelings in a way she couldn't experience. It would have been easier to say what needed to be said wordlessly, and indeed the alchemist pulsed his frustration and hesitation through to Amalia and Jigano, while at the same time offering the midwife an uneasy smile.

Tapping his fingers against the wood grain on the table, eventually Remi sighed and raised his eyes. "I do not want this task." He said bluntly with a small shake of his head. "I...do not wish for the responsibility nor do I particularly understand what we are guarding against. From all I have heard, the portals seem to be a good thing. A way of connecting places we otherwise would not get to." Smiling down at his grease-stained fingers for a moment, Remi chuckled to himself. "And I would be lying if I said I was not waiting for the day one led somewhere warm." He looked towards Amalia. "Somewhere with an ocean."
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Amalia Chandrakant
the Archangel
Baker

Age: 29 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
Level: 5 - Strg: 49 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 52 - Luck: 49 - Int:
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#8
Amalia
she wants the silence but fears the solitude
she wants to be alone and together with you
She falls into silence once again, listening as each of the other three speaks, her fingers drumming unsteady rhythms over the ceramic mug clenched tight in her hands. Remi's uncertainty rings loudly through the Attuned bond, Phoebe's hesitation evident in her self-deprecation. What is so unclear to them, so hazy in their minds? Why they were chosen does not matter, nor do their thoughts on the task, as cruel as it sounds to say.

They have been given a purpose far greater than themselves. Whether they asked for it or not is irrelevant.

Except... except, in a way, it is relevant. Because of the four of them gathered here, only one has been born into this world. She alone is a Natural, bound to this place from birth through death. Turning her dark eyes to the small shrine in the window, Amalia bites her lip in thought, letting Remi's voice fall silent (a wince, a wistful half-smile at ocean) before speaking again.

"I want those things, too," the Shield admits at last, glancing back at Remi, her expression bittersweet. "I want to open all the portals. To see mountains, and ocean, and everything else. I want to escape from this cage." Pain is obvious in her voice, twenty two years of confinement rising like a tide. To be so close to freedom-!

And to know she cannot allow it, not really. Not like this. Setting her cup down Amalia sighs, her long fingers digging into the wood of the table as she leans forward, head dropped low, voice a weary whisper. "As long as the Voice continues to use the portals, the rest of the world will be in danger. The Blight- it was her. It was the Ascended. And it nearly killed the Greatwood. It nearly killed us." Dark eyes flicker up to Jigano and Phoebe, those who were infected directly. Surely they must understand.

"What happens when the Ascended spread it to the next land, and the one after that? What happens when all of Caido is withering and corrupt, just so we could taste freedom? When the Voice turns everything the Gods have made monstrous?" Dragons, turned from might to misery. Oceans black with the ink of the Blight.

Starwhales, falling from the sky.

Shaking her head, Amalia sighs. "For whatever reason, we were chosen to stop this. I'm not a fighter, and I'm not a leader, and I don't know what I can possibly do, and I... I'm scared. But I have to do this. I have to do anything I can, to make up for helping to free the Voice. Whether you will help me or not."
she ran to the lighthouse, hoped that it would help her see
she saw that the lighthouse had been washed out to sea
Jigano Silversmith
the Sage
Provost of the Loreseekers Soul Shepherd
Portal Guardian
Age: 36 | Height: 6'2" | Race: Attuned x Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 12 - Strg: 30 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 38 - Luck: 42 - Int:
ISUMA - Mythical - Griffin (Venomous)
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Posts: 3,914 | Total: 7,219
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#9
Phoebe was a healer, young and headstrong but in her own way as dedicated to life as Amalia could be, and Jigano nodded gravely as she reiterated that she was no soldier in this war of gods. Neither was Remi, for that matter, and the bard turned to look at the alchemist with a flicker of sympathy in his eyes at the pulse of frustration that reached him. He didn't return it, not quite, but his fingers tightened on his teacup in silent support as he waited for the other man to speak.

The desire to explore was one that struck a resonating chord in the lorekeeper, and he nodded solemn agreement with the younger man's words. That was one of the purposes of his guild, after all, and one of his own great joys. If Phoebe was hesitant he could understand where Remi was undeniably reluctant, but there was still another who had yet to speak, and he turned to look at Amalia as the pain echoed in her voice, a yearning that he could only imagine.

He winced but nodded as she spoke of the blight - the very argument he had used with Sam in the depths of LongNight - and his eyes flickered to Phoebe as well, the only other person who could really know the darkness that had overcome them for a season. But the baker drew his eyes again as her passion grew, revealing uncertainty and determination in equal measure.

So there they were, then.

The bard drew in a slow breath, looking into his teacup as he spoke quietly and without his usual fanfare. "I'm sure the Fae will guard the portal in the Greatwood, so at least for now there's only the one in the Spire that will bear watching. But I... have already failed once in preventing evil from passing through it." He winced a little, not seeing the ripples in the dark water of his tea from the slight tremor in his hands. "And Safrin has taken great pains to make sure that I know my place. I am no hero, but... I will do what I can to support those of you who are," he said softly, looking up at last to meet Amalia and Phoebe's eyes, and tilting a nod towards Remi, even though the alchemist seemed less than enthused with the attention of the gods.

Given how it had gone for him in the past, Jigano couldn't blame him.
Remi Taliesin
the Bastion


Age: 31 | Height: 5'11 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 15 - Strg: 68 - Dext: 60 - Endr: 100 - Luck: 93 - Int: 3
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#10
Я
Meeting Amalia's gaze, the alchemist offered her an apologetically crinkled smile, knowing how unfair it was of him to so easily cast off this task. It wasn't his world, not his gods, and yet here he was being offered the same invaluable duty as she was, and not taking it seriously.

"It did, yes." Remi agreed of the blight. "Sam said that the Voice told him it wasn't intentional. That it would not happen again." His tone and casual shrug were meant to suggest that they could all take that for what it was worth. Remi would always trust Sam though.

Raising a brow towards Jigano, the alchemist tilted his head slightly. "Wessex, you mean?" He clarified, not knowing if that was the evil he spoke of passing through.

With a look back towards Amalia, Remi pulled in a breath as he raked an unhappy hand through his curls. "I cannot help but feel I am part of some agenda that I do not truly understand. The old gods say the portals need defending against, but the Voice alleges that they are for the good of all and that the blight was a mistake that has been corrected. I am not saying that the Voice is good and that the old gods are the ones in the wrong here, but I am not sure I can be part of this war when the lines seem so blurry."

That being said, personal declarations and such aside, there was the actual issue of what they were going to do about it all. "We could tell the ascended of our mission. That so long as there is peace, so long as they do not continue to simply force their way into accessing the portals, that we will not stop them."
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Phoebe Steadman
the Nightingale
Midwife

Age: 26 | Height: 5'9" | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Greatwood
Level: 5 - Strg: 32 - Dext: 46 - Endr: 41 - Luck: 41 - Int:
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#11



phoebe
Phoebe listened quietly, feeling a bit ashamed as Amalia spoke so passionately. She should have felt the same. She should have been excited and invigorated by this opportunity - but she was dampened by the reality that she wasn't in any way prepared or fit to fight anything, let alone an Ascended who wanted to enter the portals. Her honeyed gaze lifted up to Remi as he tried to make a defense for the blight, her brow furrowing slightly. "Are they really so blurry, Remi? Does it really seem so likely that the same woman who warred against the Gods until she and others were trapped inside a barrier for centuries would accidentally blight the woods the second the barrier dropped? Or that the same woman may have lied to keep Sam's allegiance to her?" she said, shaking her head slightly. She loved Remi dearly, but she felt he was putting rose colored glasses on. "Regardless, even if it was an accident, the Voice did nothing to correct her mistake. Vi and Rae had to intervene." she muttered, unlikely to be swayed into seeing the good in the Voice any time soon.

Again she found herself in contradiction with her brother, and she shook her head. "I told Rexanna that the blight had to come from the Ascended and the Voice when I realized the only thing similar to the illness was Ascended fluid. She refused to believe it could be them, and I've no doubt the rest of the Ascended will act the same. They do not see what they do in the name of the Voice as wrong. They will accuse you of using old stories to hate and discriminate against them, no matter what charge or fact you put in front of them." she said, feeling frustration bloom in her chest. Her fingers gripped the tea cup she held tight enough for her knuckles to go white, an uncharacteristic frown on her lips.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't argue." she said softly to Remi after a moment, feeling the fire already fading.

"What if we compromise with the Gods?" she said at length, looking up at Amalia. "This isn't our war. It isn't even your war. It is a war between them and the Voice. Why do we not observe the happenings at the portals like gatekeepers, and simply keep them informed of what the Voice is doing. If it needs intervening, then they can do so. Then we can watch them from anywhere." she offered.
pink is my favorite color
Amalia Chandrakant
the Archangel
Baker

Age: 29 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
Level: 5 - Strg: 49 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 52 - Luck: 49 - Int:
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#12
Amalia
she wants the silence but fears the solitude
she wants to be alone and together with you
Sam said the Voice told him it wasn't intentional. There is something in Remi's casual mannerism, the way he so easily speaks the words that sends a chill down Amalia's spine. Frowning, she opens her mouth to rebut but it beaten to it by Phoebe.

She finds herself nodding along with the midwife, agreeing with her assessment regarding the Ascended and their morality, the likelihood they would do anything akin to respecting the task given by the Old Gods. "Phoebe's right," the baker says firmly, shaking her head and turning to Remi. "The Ascended believe that what the Voice is doing- that the death is justified. The Voice did nothing to stop the Blight, even claiming it wasn't her fault. She killed five Fae and the Mathair with the help of the Ascended - including Sam." Amalia would have liked to say that the bookmaker could be saved, but more and more she is doubtful.

Balling her fists, the Shield drops her eyes, flint and steel staring down at the grain of the table as her voice quiets. "I spoke to Wessex after. She says she wants everyone to have a chance to live in freedom, but doesn't seem to care about the people who she'll have to kill to make that happen." What happens when the Voice tires of Halo? When she wants to latch her long, cruel claws into the next piece of the world?

Sighing, Amalia takes a step back, wrapping her arms tight across her chest. "It is our war. It's a war against life, and the Gods have decided that we are to play a part in it, just as the Voice has the Ascended. I am not saying we should go out and kill them, stop them from living their lives- then we wouldn't be any better from them. But... the world outside has been safe for years. They don't know what the Voice can do. I think we should go to Halo. Warn them- about the Voice, and the Blight. Give them a chance to protect themselves. And find out if they have a portal."
she ran to the lighthouse, hoped that it would help her see
she saw that the lighthouse had been washed out to sea
Jigano Silversmith
the Sage
Provost of the Loreseekers Soul Shepherd
Portal Guardian
Age: 36 | Height: 6'2" | Race: Attuned x Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 12 - Strg: 30 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 38 - Luck: 42 - Int:
ISUMA - Mythical - Griffin (Venomous)
Played by: Cirago Offline
Change author:
Posts: 3,914 | Total: 7,219
MP: 10170
#13
Sam and Remi were both trusting souls, but for once Jigano didn’t berate the alchemist for it. Phoebe and Amalia spoke the words that were running through his mind and he nodded slowly in agreement. ”I trust Sam,” he said quietly, flickering a glance at Amalia at her vehemence, sending a pulse of silent agreement to her. ”But… I don’t trust the Voice. Not after the Blight and how little she did – how she did nothing - to help those it struck down.” He nodded gravely to Phoebe, who knew, and he tilted his head curiously at Remi, who knew almost as well as they how hard it had struck, given how his husband had been affected.

Amalia’s mention of Sam as one of the killers at the Mathair – after the men’s conversations before and during LongNight – left Jigano looking stunned, pain and disbelief pulsing briefly through the Attuned bond before he shut it down with an effort and bowed his head to get control of himself. He had suspected, but he hadn’t known

And now he did.

Remi’s next question should have been expected. The bard had spoken with the theatrical flourish he fell into too often, but in this case it was also the truth as he drew a shaking breath, pulling himself together enough to give another nod. ”Twice now she has killed to access a portal rather than seek any sort of negotiation,” he said grimly. ”Amalia mentioned the Fae, but she also killed the guardian serpent that Rae set to protect the portal from Ascended. It would let any non-Ascended through, and perhaps in time it could have been convinced to allow Ascended to pass… but Wessex attacked it and me when I tried to negotiate with it rather than help her fight. So I am not inclined to give her the benefit of the doubt at the moment, given her bloody-handedness at every turn recently.” Or ever again. Jigano knew how to nurse a grudge with the best of them.

He sat back to listen for a bit, tilting his head thoughtfully at the suggestions and nodding slowly at them. ”Giving them warning is fair,” he said to Remi, ”though will the threat be enough, given that they’ve ignored and killed other guardians so far?” He swallowed the rest of his words, holding to the lessons the alchemist had taught him, but Amalia’s fervor brought a shadow of a smile to his lips. ”There is that,” he agreed softly. ”Ronin is Safrin’s chosen, and Aoife is blessed by the star-eyed goddess. Your family – our friends – are inextricably bound to the old gods… for good and ill both. It might not have been our war when we arrived, but I don’t think it’ll be so easy to hold ourselves apart from it now that the Voice is moving her agents in ways that have already hurt non-Ascended. The Blight and now the killing of those loyal to the old gods are opening volleys in a new chapter, I fear. We’ve already been dragged into it, whether we wanted to be or not. I don’t know what we should do…” He sighed, looking around at each of his fellow Guardians and meeting each of their eyes in turn. ”But everything that’s been said is a good start. Let the Ascended know that there will be repercussions if they continue to kill the first time someone disagrees with them on access to a portal on someone else’s land. Watch the portals we do know about to make sure they aren’t being abused or used to spread this war further. And warn those we come into contact with, making sure that they know about our history with the Voice and her people and what they’ve done so far so they aren’t taken in by lies or events that are ‘conveniently’ left out of the Ascended’s narrative.”

He paused, then raked his hair back with a weary hand. ”We should also consider the other side of things. That there may be threats in other lands that could come through the opposite direction and cause problems for the people here, if the portal in the Spire is left unwatched and undefended.”


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