transport log » ❝ welcome to Exsilium ❞

[initiates]

Date & Time: Oct. 24th
Location: The Initiative Hold
Characters: Everyone.
Summary: New Transports have all arrived and have been led to a banquet room within the Hold.
Warnings: None.

NOTE: This takes place during this plot, though the plot log will not be posted until tomorrow. The Transports already in game have returned from their mission to find the island overrun with monsters. The log is set within the safety of the Initiative Hold, however, so while characters will be aware of what is going on outside, they can otherwise go about their business as usual if they choose.

--

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. She looks worse for wear, pale and gaunt, though is putting a great deal of effort into maintaining her energy and professionalism for the new Transports. "I am truly sorry that you came at such a bad time. That wasn't intentional, I assure you."

She leads the way through the Initiative Hold. The walls bear the occasional claw mark as a sign of the misfortune that has plagued the island, but it hardly seems deserted anymore due to the other Transports recently returning from their mission. After turning several corners, you arrive in a large room that has been transformed into a makeshift banquet hall. The food presented is perhaps not as luxurious or bountiful as one would hope, but it is certainly enough to go around, and isn't inedible by any means.

"We wanted to try and make this up to you," she explains. "It's meagre, but we did not have much time to prepare." There are a number of Transports already present, some looking over the long banquet table, others seated throughout the room at large, round tables meant to each seat eight people. The mood is grim, despite the Initiative's efforts to raise morale.

Before the Greeter turns to leave, she is reminding you that it will be perfectly safe to explore the Hold, the courtyard, the housing building, and even a several block radius around it. "Hopefully things will be back to normal soon."

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

Comments

[onblackwings]

[ It has ears like the elves that she keeps seeing pop up around here, but those horns are new. And the wings... well, those are sort of like her wings, and she has to admit that she's a little impressed. And then as she heads nearer and realizes just how tall this guy is, impressed interest sinks to something a little closer to jealousy. Man, why couldn't her human shape be that tall? That would only be appropriate, for how magnificent she is as a dragon.

She isn't currently giving off any signs of magic, as she stops a few feet off to watch him, but her necklace certainly is. A little orb of light tucked safely below her shirt, sharing space on a thread with miniaturized swords and ogre skulls, it doesn't look all that impressive. But the magic is stronger than even Khisanth entirely realizes, to the point of being an actual living entity trapped in the globe.

But nevermind that. This guy is so getting (jealously) stared at. ]

[prepared]

[ Expressions are lost on the blindfolded half-demon, who only stares out, the glow from behind rough, black cloth the only indication that there even are eyes behind the mask. It draws to the closest, which sets off the figure in stark relief, reflected from the light of what she has at her neck. It doesn't allow for a full picture, but enough for him to examine the figure.

Woman, obviously, not tall, some other minute features. The half-demon approaches, cautiously. That bauble, whatever it was, that caught his attention more than the woman. Single-minded in purpose, and like the moth to the flame, he approached, but he said nothing.

For once.

He was transfixed, but Illidan is a brute, it won't take him long to start speaking. ]

[onblackwings]

[ She expects that if she were simply fully human, she might feel a little intimidated right now. A tall, hooved guy, looming in nearer? Well, it's a good thing she's not. And she reminds herself of this fact as she stands her ground firmly, squaring her shoulders and setting her jaw.

It's good she's a little completely oblivious to social etiquette, or she might think that silent approaching thing was rude. ]

What are you?

[prepared]

[ The voice comes from the direction of the thing that (for some reason) caught his interest. She may have just made a rather bad misstep, but for the moment, his head only locks on to her direction, eyes glowing, as if they're actually staring right at her, even though from behind it, the actual direction is a bit more difficult to discern.

His teeth show for a moment, just a moment, as if that would be difficult to tell. They'd, of course, told him about this other world nonsense, but he had traveled to another world, and that one as well had been able to tell who he was. Why should it be different here? With a tip of his horned head, he sneered in her general direction. ]

Is it that difficult to discern? Has one never seen a half-demon before?

[ Half-demon meaning: dude who is totally off his rocker and totally didn't do this to himself ]

[onblackwings]

I haven't.

[ She steps forward, beginning a slow circle around this guy for the full view. It doesn't exactly uncover any new information about him, but it's interesting nonetheless. ]

What's the other half?

[prepared]

[ He follows her as best he can, without turning his head or turning his entire body. Instead, his arms cross, dark skin rippling with light from his tattoos. ]

I was once Kaldorei, but some called us night elves. [ He did not. In fact, he was from a time when the kaldorei were the primary species on Azeroth, and humans had barely begun their trek to the "superior" species, as they so believed now. He had heard the reports from his informants, but it meant little to him. ]

You sound curious, little one.

[onblackwings]

[ Well, those glowing tats totally grab her attention. She just barely resists reaching out to touch one, because really. You just don't give in to curiosity like that near something that could attack at any time. She contents herself with staring at them, coming to a stop again in front of him. ]

You don't look anything like the elves I've seen here. None of them had wings, for one thing.

[prepared]

Of course not! [ He waved a hand, haughtily, pulling from the crossed position for only a moment before returning. His head followed her movements, tracking her by the magic she held around her neck. It cast a light on everything around it. ]

Elves do not have wings. They would resist such things until they lose their breath, even if it were to their advantage, and even if it were necessary, they would not have wings. [ Bitter. So bitter. ]

I prefer half-demon.

[onblackwings]

[ It's odd, the way he keeps his head turned toward her. Can he see her through that blindfold? She's almost tempted to step up and wave a hand in front of his face, but... after a quick glance around, she vetos that urge. Later, maybe, if she catches him away from the crowd. She would hate to look foolish in front of this many people. ]

Their loss. [ And after a moment more of observation: ] And the horns are of the demon part as well?

[prepared]

Indeed they are. [ He responds simply, not offering other words to explain the how or the why. After all, who was to say why an elf would be part demon. Would it be hereditary, as the title "half-demon" implied?

The truth of the matter was more that he had long been corrupted, but half-demon was the only term that could be remotely appropriate to describe the hulking creature before her. ]

It takes a rare type to appreciate what it truly means to possess such power. How useful it can truly be.