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

[inafadingcrown]

The time of the elves is waning in Middle-Earth, true enough, but three Elven realms still stand strong- my own Lórien among them. [For the time, at least. It remains to be seen how the war will end.]

But mayhaps we still share more than most. There is much here that is strange to me. I gather you would say the same.

[ofthegrey]

[He feels a faint chill. She is not the first from a different land with some parallels to his that he has met today. He wonders if all of the worlds could be connected in some greater way and sets that thought aside for another time, a time of contemplation rather than action.]

You are not incorrect in your assumption. If you would like to walk and talk for a time as we take in the surroundings, I would not be opposed to the company. My name is Duncan. [He bows slightly at the waist, stiff by virtue of the breastplate he wears.]

[inafadingcrown]

[A very particular type of stiffness and one which she recognizes on sight. She grew up around military men; she married one. She knows how armor moves. It's noted, but not remarked upon. Instead, she gives a deep nod with a slight bend at the waist- not quite a bow, but almost.]

You are well met, Master Duncan. I am Galadriel, Lady of Lothlórien and the Galadhrim. Your company would be most welcome.

[ofthegrey]

Lady, your gracious words are a boon. You have my thanks.

[Duncan has moved in royal circles for years now. It feels almost second nature to drop into the more formal tone of address. Her people and homeland may be distant, and she may have no authority here save that which she can command with her presence. He has spent too long playing the diplomat and building bridges to offend with over-familiarity.]

Aside from our orientation, has anyone spoken to you of the devices they gave to us for communication?

[inafadingcrown]

[And it's appreciated. Perhaps, in time, she'll let down a little of her guard, but here and now she's uncertain and out of control; she's falling back on the familiar and, for her, that means formalities and diplomatic pleasantries.]

They have not. I understand little of them, I fear.

[ofthegrey]

It may be a case of the blind leading the blind if I show you what little I've been taught. We'll see what I recall, shall we?

[He directs them over toward one of the meager overhangs to shield the screens from the rain and pulls his device from its shelter in his wide belt.

As he turns it in his hands, he shows her the button on the side and presses it, his screen lighting up.]

It must be activated before it can be used, like so.

[inafadingcrown]

That seems simple enough. [Not that it would have occurred to her on her own, but details. She continues to watch with interest.]

[ofthegrey]

Yes. If you simply close it without pressing the side again, it is still active but temporarily dormant. I was told this saves power. To be truthful I don't know precisely what that means. If they need some sort of recharging, like some magical artifacts, I have no idea how that would be accomplished.

[He shrugs once and continues. Holding it in such a way that she can see the keyboard, he presses a key that brings up a window display with his name above the window.]

There are three ways to communicate through the device. A picture, your voice, or text. You can cycle through them with this button.

[So far so good. It's doing the same thing it did when Blaine was giving him the demonstration.]

You can press the letters to spell out the words. I personally doubt I'll be using that option much. It seems much more tedious than speaking.

[inafadingcrown]

[She watches carefully, keen eyes noting details and filing them away for later use.]

I quite agree. [She can already foresee having difficulties with the small buttons. She looks up when he finishes speaking.] You have my thanks for this. You have been kind and generous with your time without any promise of reward.

[ofthegrey]

I've heard it said that kindness has a value without cost. You are most welcome, Lady. I believe all of us will benefit if we are able to work cooperatively. I'd offer a caveat about the devices. If it is something that has already occurred to you, then my apologies. It is likely those who provided them can monitor us through them.

The man who took the time to show me the basics agreed. He was more familiar with things like this and said it's very possible. Do not say anything over the screen you would not wish for our captors to know.

[Unspoken but implied is the fact he has no intention of being blindly cooperative, no matter what they've been told about the reasons for it.]

[inafadingcrown]

[Oh, she likes him. She also has no intention of cooperating blindly. She was a chessplayer and not a pawn, after all.]

I know little of such devices, but I have long been aware that where one may see, one may be seen. [And it's as true of technology as it is of scrying, apparently.] I will be cautious, I assure you.

[ofthegrey]

Indeed. [It's one reason such things in Thedas were so very dangerous and difficult to control, the few remaining artifacts in existence that people stumbled upon unwittingly.]

If they are capable of other things, I'm not yet aware. You now possess the extent of my knowledge. Oh, no, actually. There was one other thing, a strange thing.

[He finds the small red button, presses it, and holds up the screen toward his face.] They can do this, too.

[Another button has it playing back a recording of what he said.]

[inafadingcrown]

[She gives a little startled laugh.] They are something of a marvel, are they not?

[ofthegrey]

That they are.

[It takes him a little while to recall how to erase the recording. He finally manages, closes the lid, and tucks it back away beneath his poncho.]

It's my thought that to those who brought us here they are trifling things. Pittances, and they must believe that facilitating communication among us all is no threat to them. For all I know, it may not be.

[inafadingcrown]

[Her expression might best be described as a smirk right now, if anyone would dare call her on it.]

Mayhaps. I prefer to think they underestimate us.

[ofthegrey]

I intend to do my part to see that this is the case.

[He knows the risks in standing out and the pitfalls of being openly rebellious. However, the other side of the equation, allowing paranoia to cripple one and lead to inaction, is far worse.]

[inafadingcrown]

As do I.

[Galadriel knows those risks better than most. After all, it was a rebellion, or at least disobedience, that got her banished from the Undying Lands. She knows enough to pick her battles carefully.]

[ofthegrey]

Then it seems we have two things in common. [He allows a small smile.]

I trust we will be in touch again? There is more of this place I would see, and one draws less attention than two.

[inafadingcrown]

Of course. Until we meet again.