transport log » ❝ welcome to Exsilium ❞

[initiates]

Date & Time: Sept 23rd, 2012.
Location: The Initiative Hold & Courtyard.
Characters: Everyone.
Summary: New Transports have all arrived and have been shuffled into the Courtyard after their initial briefings.
Warnings: None.

You've just been hustled and bustled through mazes of information and literal, wide corridors of the Initiative Hold and you've been equipped with your weapon—be it a gun, a sword, or even your existing powers. They've handed you this light netbook and a small pouch of coins (or a debit card, if you're more inclined), and there are several Transports before and after you going through the very same motions. You can hear the Greeter's voice as she walks alongside large groups, telling them all about the history of this place and sharing with you your purpose here in a hurried and urgent tone. "This isn't standard," she's saying, walking perhaps faster than most of the people she's dragging around. "We don't normally have so many Transports at once. Please, let me show you into the courtyard."

You pass what looks like huge gymnasiums, all with dummies and targets strewn and splayed around the room. Training areas. There are even classrooms, and a few small offices. You're rushed past a large library while the Greeter informs you that you can find almost all your information there, if you've got the time to look—and trust her, you'll have time. You don't spend a lot of time in the bank, and it's a bit of a blur of exchanges with more and more of these strangely-accented and oddly polite-seeming members of the Initiative.

Soon enough, you're in a massive courtyard bustling with all the other Transports. It's not exactly what you'd expect, and it looks more like barracks than anything—huge walls of concrete and stone, separating you from all of the hallways you'd just passed through. It's raining heavily, and dark clouds loom in the air. It's a chill cold, and there are shelters—long cloth hangings that extend from the walls of concrete to house you from the rain, but not enough. Most notably, the courtyard is filled with a marketplace. Even in the cold and the rain, there are several citizens seated at their covered booths and tables. They're selling all manner of their own handmade goods and foods, and citizens and Transports alike are traveling from one small covered shop to another in search of all manner of necessities.

The Greeter's voice has become so faint now, but you swear you can make it out in the back of the crowds as she tells you, "Good luck. Be safe!"

Her voice is drowned out by the busy marketplace, though even the transactions taking place are somewhat subdued. Nobody is overly happy, really, though most citizens can be found with smiles on their faces. It doesn't seem like they're that shocked to see you, either; even if you're not bound in tattered rags and wrapped in heavy shawls as they are. You're welcome to walk up to a shop, and find yourself something to eat—hey, maybe you'll even find something akin to a raincoat. Or, you can join the others under the coverings against the walls. Where am I? What war? She was talking so fast, and it didn't all make very much sense… did anyone else catch it all?

Welcome to the courtyard. Welcome to the Initiative Hold—and most importantly, welcome to Exsilium.

Comments

[deadelfwalking]

[yeah, he saw that, brother. Both the clumsiness and Satero's general ... presence draw Koltira's attention--it's not often that he sees anyone bigger than he is by any margin, after all. He pauses by the man, leaning on Byfrost's hilt.]

Tell me your name.

[fitful]

[ Satero slumps further until he's sitting, one shoulder pressed against the wall, long legs sprawled out in front of him. Head still bowed as he squints up at Koltira through his wet hair. His teeth part, just slightly, and he raises his eyebrows. Huh. ]

Satero e Ankhar. [ He remembers something, and he closes his eyes to grin. ] King.

[ He raises the arm against the wall and swings the side of his fist into the wall, weakly, without any force behind the arc. He opens his eyes. The grin remains. ]

And what. Are you?

[deadelfwalking]

[well, he doesn't have a concussion. That's good. Maybe. Koltira frowns down at him, and wonders what sort of world has a king like this.]

Koltira Deathweaver. Blood elf.

[fitful]

[ Strength is starting to come back to him. He channels it into forming full sentences, head still lolling against the wall. Grinding, almost. Like he's hoping to eventually drill through it with his skull. ]

That doesn't mean anything to me. Heh. Ha.

[ Not that he cares. Not right now. He sticks a leg further out, nudging Byfrost with the sole of his boot. He starts staring at that, in stead. What a strange-looking sword. A sword.... ]

[deadelfwalking]

[he shrugs, eyeing this guy's attempts to apparently give himself a concussion. Byfrost glows in response to the touch, as though agitated. Koltira draws the sword back.]

Best not.

[fitful]

[ OH NO YOU DON'T, mister. satero grits his teeth together and pulls himself along the ground, forwards, leaning until he's within range of the sword again. ]

Best will.

[ no shush don't tell him that he's not talking good right now. he's too distracted by the glow. he reaches forwards with a hand, now, trying to touch the edges. ]

's a sword.

[deadelfwalking]

Yes, well done. Don't touch it.

[SCOOTING BACK. Unfortunately, Byfrost is not helping Koltira with this. Its runes are active, shimmering in an alternating green, blue, and red pattern--along with the occasional dark purple. Its edges are, as one might expect, wickedly curved and sharp. Give us a little blood, Satero ...]

[fitful]

[ hey, man, that's creepy, don't do your creepy thing here THAT AIN'T WELCOME SAVE IT FOR THE OTHER DUDE.

or not. satero pulls himself along as koltira tries to back away, moving faster than all the previous collapsing and head-banging and whining would have implied. and satero hasn't even realized that anything's strange about this one, really. his mental processes are still stuck on ooh, shiny. ]

Don't tell me what to--

[ and then he makes a grab for the shiny sword, and cuts his fingers open on the edge. ow.

satero stops to stare. first blood drawn in 400 years, and it's his own....

he draws his hand back, clenches, unclenches. and looks up at koltira, expression suddenly blank. ]

[deadelfwalking]

[oh, Jesus. The sword VERY HAPPILY absorbs whatever blood spills on its blade, and Koltira groans in frustration.]

I told you--

[whoa, what's with that expression. This--seems ominous. Koltira takes a full step back.]

[fitful]

[ Something starts to squirm in his palm; tendrils. Green, fresh, tiny leaves crawling out of the cuts in his fingers. Satero crushes them as he makes a fist, again.

The realization hits him like a pound of bricks, right in the head. His eyes widen.

He's awake. ]

Come on!

[ Fast as that, he's suddenly on his feet, drawn up to his full height -- and he tackles Koltira, full-force, laughing like the maniac that he is.

More than awake. He's alive. And he's free. ]

[deadelfwalking]

[oh shit, this motherfucker is ginormous. Koltira goes down, eyes wide, and he can't stem the rage that suddenly courses through him. Snarling, he grabs Satero about the waist and tries to knee him, quite forcefully, in the gut.]

Bloody hell! Get off of me!

[Byfrost is very excited about all of this, of course, and a red glow suffuses it--blood, blood, use the blood, but Koltira doesn't, he won't. He doesn't know this man, and there are so many other people around. He just wants the guy to get hold of himself.]

[fitful]

I'm alive!

[ Shouted right before Koltira knees him away. He doesn't even try to resist -- the blow knocks him away, howling with laughter, rolling away to the side and onto his back. He stays like that for a while, legs sprawled, both hands in his hair. Still giggling.

He's drunk on his happiness. Also, he's still totally gonna punch this guy. Satero's just gotta get over some of this happiness first. ]

[deadelfwalking]

[Koltira leaps up, assuming a defensive stance, Byfrost held protectively in front of him. He doesn't relax an inch at Satero's laughter.]

You're a bloody madman.

[fitful]

Oh, tell me something new. [ So rude, these people. Satero's still laughing, though, still trying to get himself together.

He raises an arm, and points at Koltira. ]

Stay. Stay right there! I'm going to fight you!

[deadelfwalking]

What--here? I have done no wrong against you! [he narrows his eyes, glancing this way and that. The courtyard practically teems with people. There's no way.]

[fitful]

I know!

[ Satero brings his knees up, and swings from flat on his back to upright on his feet, all in one, fluid motion. He spreads his feet, planting them apart, dropping into a stronger stance. Fists clenched, again, grinning darkly.

He starts to circle around Koltira, bouncing on the balls of his feet. ]

You gonna run, huh?

[deadelfwalking]

[SON ARE YOU CALLING HIM A COWARD? Hale no.]

There is no reason to involve the others here. If you wish to fight, it will not be in this courtyard.

[He starts moving before he's even done saying it, an unholy aura suddenly enveloping him and granting him supernatural speed. He is racing on out of there, buddy.]

[fitful]

[ satero's not looking at koltira when the other starts to flee. ]

What? No! This is-- hey!

[ now he looks. GOD, he looks away for just one SECOND, he swears. people these days. so rude.

he gives chase, though, scrambling after koltira, shoving through the crowd. he'd stop to fight these other people too, really, but come on. guy has a glowy sword. he gets priority. ]

Come back!