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☆ A Strange Tale
Name: Sowilo (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
petaluridae)
Date: June 13
Format: Video
petaluridae)Date: June 13
Format: Video
- The face that comes over the video might be familiar to some: delicate-featured, red-haired, bearing the un-hidden features of a jewel-red dragonfly Fae. Sowilo is known to be brusque and haughty, but today he only looks serious, occasionally glancing off-screen, where the sounds of another couple of people in the office can be heard.
“Two Wilders came back from the Northern Outpost this morning. Apparently a dozen of them went missing a handful of days ago and the search party has only turned up these two. Overcurious meatheads that they are, they found trouble on a trip out. They are not seriously injured-” He holds a hand up. “-but they have the strangest story.”
“While exploring after a rockslide they came upon a tunnel, and like the geniuses they are, decided to follow it down. Very far down, to caverns where they were ambushed and captured handily.” There is a quiet protest in the background, and murmuring, but Sowilo pays it no mind. “The two who returned were purposefully released, and they’ve described to Theodore an underground city full of actual, living people. What in the world do you all know about this? Their leader sent a message that she will release the other ten Wilders safely if “only the travelers who have laid eyes upon her fair city before” accept her cordial invitation to her realm. Doesn’t take a scholar to assume she’s talking about you Mirrorbound. You have a way of attracting trouble, don’t you?”
“I’m sure you understand why this is a… delicate situation for the Coven, and for Aefenglom. We have no records of any city existing underground - we know absolutely nothing about these people, what they want, or what they are capable of. The message was very clear that representatives from the Coven or Aefenglom were not welcomed, so our hands are a bit tied. Their leader wishes to speak with some of you directly, even.” Glittering red eyes narrow.
“We leave on the 16th from the North Gate and will use the teleporter to the Northern Outpost. From there, Theodore and I will accompany you as far as we can, but I imagine it won’t be far at all.” There is a moment of hesitation here from the stuck-up Fae, and he looks a bit like he bit into a lemon. “I suppose we are relying on you all. Please know that this is an unprecedented situation and could turn dangerous for all of us. Not to mention, if they decide they don’t like us, we’ll likely have to abandon the Northern Outpost and all the progress made up there…
I suppose decide among yourselves what you’re willing to do. We will not force anyone's cooperation.”
This is the initial kick-off post for What Lies Beneath! Feel free to use this post to let characters discuss and react with each other as you want over the network or in-person. If you need an NPC reply, please say so in your comment header! NPC replies will come from the journal petaluridae. Otherwise, the event log itself will be up on the 16th. And one more reminder, you still have until 3PM EST on the 15th to sign up for a possible chat with the Matriarch!
petaluridae. Otherwise, the event log itself will be up on the 16th. And one more reminder, you still have until 3PM EST on the 15th to sign up for a possible chat with the Matriarch!
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But I'll be along, regardless, to help those who would have need of it. And that is all you asked, isn't it? If I was going?
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I've heard your voice before.
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[ She doesn't feel a need to comment on the babysitter bit. Honestly, anything she does at this point of her life tends to amount to that, and she doesn't want to needle the guy's pride anymore than she already has. ]
I fear I can't say the same, given you've shown neither face nor voice for me to remember.
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It's you then. The one what cared for the spectres...
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I don't think I got your name back then.
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Why "the Crow"?
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[ she did say something about being a hunter. ]
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The Crow Hunters, we who were Hunters of Hunters, are symbols of death. When a Hunter has become mad enough, dangerous enough, to warrant our presence, they will know that death has come for them by our feathers in the dusk.
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I suppose it doesn't. The line between Hunter and Beast was always exceptionally narrow, for that which is meant to be opposed to the other.
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You've probably had enough questions.
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Don't worry about it. I'm too old to simply tolerate questions for the sake of it. Had I truly enough, I'd have said so.
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I've no specific number to give you. But I'm considered aged by the standards of the place I come from.
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You seem to enjoy it either way.
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