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

[inafadingcrown]

I am. [She pushes back her hair back behind her ears, so that he may see their points.] An elf of a different sort, I think, but an elf all the same.

[arcanepower]

[She's gorgeous and sacred somehow, like a priestess. He is overcome with nostalgia and longing all at once, and it takes real effort for him to stay here. To stay composed.]

My people have an affinity for arcane magic. You feel... different.

Who are you?

[inafadingcrown]

[There are a couple of things she could say that would answer why she feels "different." She is the daughter of the High King of the Noldor, born in the light of the Two Trees. She is the keeper of Nenya.

Neither of those, however, are things she particularly wants to share right now.]

I am the Lady Galadriel of Lothloríen. [She dips her head with a little wry smile.] It is a pleasure.

[arcanepower]

[His ears flatten. Apparently they can do something other than bounce around obnoxiously. Who knew?

Belthazar has a great dislike for nobility. Everyone claims some sort of relation to their last king, but Belthazar doesn't... have much. He has never had much. And the way he's looked down upon it, just for being born, well... it's made him quite hateful.

But he is finding it really hard to hate this woman. He's finding it hard even to maintain a proper tough-looking scowl. She's powerful in a way he can't comprehend, and that in itself bothers him. He swallows thickly and wills himself to stop shaking, instead bowing his head slightly. (Even a street rat knows basic manners.)]

Bel— [He clears his throat.] Belthazar Spellscry.

[inafadingcrown]

[Wow, those ears are pretty impressive. And expressive. Thankfully, Galadriel is too well mannered to stare at them. She spares them a quick glance before smiling back at the boy.]

And as simply as that, we are no longer strangers.

[arcanepower]

I... suppose.

[He shifts awkwardly and looks down at the food in front of him. He feels weird eating in front of someone like this, but his appetite is back.

Fuck it. He's hungry. He shoves a meat bun into his mouth like it's about to jump away.]

[inafadingcrown]

[Good. He looks like he could use a few good meals. She'll just casually take a seat nearby, ignoring his less than stellar table manners.]

[arcanepower]

[Yeah, he has other concerns at this point.

After he's eaten the meat bun, he moves onto some noodles, stealing curious glances at Galadriel every so often.]

[inafadingcrown]

[She'd happily sit in silence for a bit longer, but she does notice those curious glances, even if she pretends not to. Eventually, she decides to speak up.]

You may ask what you wish; there is little I will not answer.

[arcanepower]

[He doesn't respond until the noodles are done with. He's certainly not shy about speaking his mind, once he feels like he needs to.]

Why do you even bother talking to people like me? You're royalty.

[That says a lot about where he came from, apparently.]

[inafadingcrown]

Why would I not? What would it profit me to keep only to those with a similar bloodline? I would learn very little of this place and I would certainly lack for company.

Besides which, it is a very poor leader who isolates herself from the people.

[arcanepower]

[Her words are too noble, too perfect. He hasn't heard elves talk like that... ever. Maybe in the legends that was how things were supposed to be, but Quel'Thalas is an oppressive society built on stealing power from others. The survival of the fittest.]

... I don't know why they do it. To prove something, I suppose.

[He huffs a bit and goes back to slurping noodles.]

[inafadingcrown]

Perhaps that is the difference; I need prove nothing.

[If her words seem strangely noble, maybe that little bit of arrogance will be reassuring.]

[arcanepower]

[An eyebrow pops up. He doesn't retort, though. Food is more interesting.

He'll stop eating eventually, and then he'll have to actually start /socializing/. Gross.]

[inafadingcrown]

[He may be the only person ever to complain that a beautiful woman is trying to socialize with him, just saying.

Whatever. She's already eaten, so she'll just snag a glass of wine and wait.]