Prepare for the #LodanRespawn2024 Existing characters may choose to be displace from/have memories of different timelines, thereby allowing returning members the option to retcon their whole character. These changes are the result of the "Unnatural Fog" plot device that is running between now and the Respawn. The plot is simple: no matter where your character is, that place is shrouded in a thick fog that suspends time, but not thoughts or memories, so even if they're repeating the same day over and over again, they continue to remember, so each time feels like a new day. For those retconning OCs; this is where new versions of themselves have the opportunity to replace the old versions. Official lore and tree updates will be announced asap
Open to Wern (and one other person at most) Added to her usual list of duties to follow while patrolling was a new request, one that seemed kind of silly given her route, yet she was required to follow it anyhow. See if anyone would be interested in joining the fight against Sveden. Which was just a fancier way of saying, “look for new recruits.”
But Gladys’ main place to patrol was the Hovel. The Hovel was mostly anders. And the ones that weren’t anders were descended from anders, which the EIRAL didn’t exactly like either. Still, orders were orders so when she saw someone who at least wasn’t obviously ander looking, she began reciting her speech about why joining their ranks would be the best decision of your life.
Up ahead, she spotted a man who looked at least half human. Walking towards him, she nodded and spoke aloud. “Hello sir, I’d like to inform you that the Ebony and Ivory Royal Army of Lodan is looking for more able-bodied soldiers to join the cause. We accept all men from all walks of life so long as you can lift a sword and pledge your allegiance to the Queen. Joining our ranks would also grant you ability to stay in our barracks, dine in our mess hall, hands on training, and during that all we will provide you with compensation in gold for your services too.” She paused here to see if she had acquired interest from the man; usually the mention of free food and paycheck would at least get a few heads to turn.
Last Edit: May 25, 2016 7:49:09 GMT by Gladys Hayden
“Always dream and shoot higher than you know you can do. Do not bother just to be better than your contemporaries or predecessors. Try to be better than yourself.” ―William Faulkner
The hovel was a dreadful place to linger. But Wern had to check up on the supplies, as it seemed a shipment was not being made out. A local store that promised to established an equal trade had not been keeping up their end of the bargain, and it had gotten to the point that Wern had to get involved. It was stuff being guild leader, a position that grew more and more taxing on the larger fellow. Alisa had told him he was losing weight— probably for the better, but still. It was strange. The stress had been getting to him, after all. New recruits, new trade deals, new markets, and so forth. So much to do, and so little time to do it in. The amount of work waiting for him at home made the mechanic cringe, and the man sighed, shuffling somewhat as he adjusted his hair, a little thicker then what he would like it. One of these days he was going to have to get it cut— maybe he would ask Alisa to take care of it?
“Hello, Sir.” A woman called, and Wern flinched, not wanting to stop, to be hassled to spare a few coins. Ever since he took in Polina, Alisa, and Chaka, money had become tight, and although he was open to helping the poor, he was already doing so, as far as he figured. Afterall, he was putting more and more of his own money into Mingo’s to help it stay a float and help the Ander cause. There was only so much he could give though. But the woman who spoke wasn’t a straggler, but a solider— the very fact of which made Wern pause, his body, conditioned to be cautious— something that seemed to develop ever since Castamere. “Ugh, p-pardon me. B-but I think you have the wrong person.” Wern began, turning his head away as if to hide. “If you took a closer look I am not able-bodied. A-and I’m no soldier. So, um, good day.” The larger man stated, putting his hands in his pockets and speeding up his pace.
What is important to me is the experience of making. I leave all my work outside and often return to watch it decay.- Andy Goldsworthy
Before the man could quite walk off, Gladys cut in, reaching out to grab his arm and hold him there. “You could become one with training. I would know; I wasn’t a soldier when I entered the ranks either. But the EIRAL takes in all who are interested, whether something is restricting you or not. We can train you to fight, to provide aid against the cause, and during it all, you’d be rewarded for your efforts. Does the prospect not interest you?”
She stepped back then, face mildly showing concern. The man was larger than most, that was easy to gather, but he wasn’t too much larger. Nor was he unfit for becoming a soldier or for doing work. He could have a place if he wanted one. But Gladys had a feeling that he didn’t. Most of them didn’t.
“Always dream and shoot higher than you know you can do. Do not bother just to be better than your contemporaries or predecessors. Try to be better than yourself.” ―William Faulkner
The female soldier’s hand touched his arm and the larger man squeaked, the touch, sudden and unexpected. He fumbled somewhat, his arm, seeming to become detached from the mechanics body as he flapped about, trying to regain his composure but only succeeding in making it worse as the woman let go and the tinkier staggered into a trash bin, flopping onto his back as he continued to squeak. “O-oh dear! U-um m-my apologies. N-no thank you. I-I’m not cut out to be a soldier. O-r um, anything. Oh dear.” Scrambling back to his feet, Wern brushed his clothes off, face, burning red. How embarrassing. And in front of a solider. Goodness, what if she told her comrades? And what if they knew him to be the Mingo’s leader? If people knew what a klutz he was, oh dear. That would only make things worse. “U-uh good day!” Turning on his heel, the makeshift guild leader quickly tried to flee— what a wonderful way not to appear suspicious, the man cursed to himself, but there was no other way. The larger man had to cling onto some form of dignity.
What is important to me is the experience of making. I leave all my work outside and often return to watch it decay.- Andy Goldsworthy
Normally Gladys would have just sighed and let the man run off, despite him having made such a fool of himself. But there was something about today that made her decide to do otherwise. Perhaps it was the man across the street, giving her a judgmental glare, or maybe it was the wind at her back, seemingly edging her forward as if to encourage the motion, or maybe it was something else altogether, like a divine force sneaking urges into her head.
No matter the cause, she decided that the man couldn’t just walk away from her like that. Not today, not like this. “Sir,” she said in a stern tone as she took a few strides towards him. “Do you have a problem with the Royal Army?” That was a heavy question, one that had a definitive right and wrong answer. Which would this plump man choose?
“Always dream and shoot higher than you know you can do. Do not bother just to be better than your contemporaries or predecessors. Try to be better than yourself.” ―William Faulkner
Everything was fine. Yes, yes of course. Everything fine. Yes he made a fool of himself but that was nothing new. Nope. Fool was practically his middle name. Or at least, the council kept reminding him about that, but now, now everything was okay. Or at least, the mechanic thought it was, until he heard the soldier approach him once more. Oh dear. “No, not at all! I just, oh dear.” Rubbing a hand against his face, Wern fidgeted, looking the woman up and down, almost squeaking as the tinkerer tried to struggle for breath. Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear.
“I just don’t have time. I work everyday, barely have time to go home to see my child, and i-I’m not sleeping or eating and I just don’t have time. I have to work to support my family, and I-I’m doing that right now. So please, please just let me go. I don’t want to get my pay reduced.” Because that is what happened it seemed. Had been happening. The council, stating that since Wern was a guild leader, he had to transfer at least 30 percent of his profits to the guild in order to make it stay afloat, and he could barely spare that much. “Please. Just let me be.”
What is important to me is the experience of making. I leave all my work outside and often return to watch it decay.- Andy Goldsworthy
The name wanted to leave so badly, then so be it. Gladys wouldn’t hold onto his time any longer, after all she had other people to speak to and a the rest of the district to patrol. As she sighed and turned to walk away however, a scream filled the air. Turning to the source, one would see a young woman being pulled at the wrists by a man who looked considerable older than her. The woman was crying and screaming for him to stop and let her go, but the man had a stern look on his face and pulled her forward.
Gladys saw the scene and looked at the pair of them for a couple moments before deciding it would be better to turn around and carry on her way. The large man she had just been speaking to would be wise to do the same.
“Always dream and shoot higher than you know you can do. Do not bother just to be better than your contemporaries or predecessors. Try to be better than yourself.” ―William Faulkner
Peace seemed to be gifted upon the larger man, until at least, the scream. Jumping, the mechanic let out a squeak, instinct, causing him to turn to look upon the scene while at the same time, trying to curl himself into a ball. Both of which, were proving to be difficult. A woman was in distress. Wern was in distress. Everyone was in distress. “O-oh dear.” Wern stated, looking toward the EIRAL soldier, in hope that she would help resolve the scene. But, she didn’t. The woman just walked away. He wasn’t surprised, more like disappointed— whether it was for her walking away, or for it being such an easy decision for her. Though, it wasn’t the tinkier’s place to consider morals at that moment. “U-uh sir. Y-your hurting the miss.” Wern squeaked, but his voice, was barely audible over her screaming. O-Oh dear— “Ma’am, is everything alright?” The larger man stuttered again, approaching the scene a bit more, but— he didn’t have to. Not as a taller figure stepped forth, pushing him out of the way as she did so, a-and was she hissing?
Mala, walking. Practicing. Just like women in red asked. Doing better. But still disliked, still hunched. Heard scream— a guttural sound, of fear, of hatred. Recongized it. Hated it. Approached. Old man, tugged on girl. Pulled. Mala stepped forward. Pushed people out of way, hissing. “Let go.” Growled, hunching forward, approached, one hand, on girl, other, on man’s wrist, hissing.
What is important to me is the experience of making. I leave all my work outside and often return to watch it decay.- Andy Goldsworthy
The guard had taken a few steps before pausing, realizing that the scene had escalated since someone decided to step in. Sigh. An interaction between two was ignorable. But three was the gateway for an escalated altercation; one that would usually drag in more people which meant she would have to get involved anyway.
Turning around, she walked up to the trio and cleared her throat before asking, “Is there a problem here”
The man holding the smaller girl grunted as the stranger approached, but he didn’t let go. When the guard questioned him though, he paused, the iron grip unmoving. “No sir. No problem here. I was just dragging my daughter home. She tried to run away.” In answer, the girl choked back a sob and tried to cling toward Mala. “He’s not my father! I don’t want to go with him! Please, help me!!” Tears ran down her streak without pause. Gladys waited for the new face to answer before she did anything differently.
“Always dream and shoot higher than you know you can do. Do not bother just to be better than your contemporaries or predecessors. Try to be better than yourself.” ―William Faulkner
With the guard stepping in, Wern found it was best for him to step away. Although he was concerned with the situation, it was getting out of hand, and most of all, out of his hands— although, to say that he ever had the situation inhands was a stretch in itself and so was this metaphor and oh jeez. “Um, I-I’m sorry. Um, t-the guard is here. S-she should help.” Wern stated, yet his conscious told him to at least linger on the side, some distance away, if something were to fully escalate. What he would do, he wasn’t certain, but, well, trying would not hurt, would it?
Trying meant little. Getting work done did. Brows, furrowed. Noticed, guard. Person in blue. Dangerous. But girl, tried to latch onto Mala. Mala, furrowed brow more, gritted teeth. “Lies.” Reached out. Grabbed man’s arm. Dug fingers in. “Let go of child.” Wrapped other arm around child. Held her tight, mouth, open in snarl.
What is important to me is the experience of making. I leave all my work outside and often return to watch it decay.- Andy Goldsworthy
As far as Gladys was concerned, the larger man she had been talking to was simply gone. Away from the scene, away from the thoughts of her mind. Instead, she had a new trio to deal with. It seemed there wasn’t going to be an easy way to resolve this. “Everyone take their hands off of everyone else,” she commanded, standing up taller and resting a hand on her sword at her side. The man was reluctant, but he let go of the girl, and the girl slowly took her hands off of the stranger.
“State your name and occupation, all three of you,” she continued.
“William O’Leary. Cobbler,” he stated and stood up straighter. Yet he wasn’t as tall as Gladys was.
The girl wiped some of her tears away and swallowed before speaking. “Miriam O’Leary, housewife.” So it seemed the two of them were related, somehow. Gladys turned to the new stranger then, waiting to see what her answer would be.
“Always dream and shoot higher than you know you can do. Do not bother just to be better than your contemporaries or predecessors. Try to be better than yourself.” ―William Faulkner
O’Leary? For the both of them? Wern thought, staring from around the corner, uncertain whether to approach or stay back, as the whole tirade had died down a bit, but, opting for the later as the female guard reached for her sword. If they were related, then the man was saying the truth, or at least, part of it. Or well, who knows. How strange.
Guard mattered little to Mala. Tilted head. Girl let go. Man, spoke, woman, spoke, say name— same name. Mala frowned, crouching some. What meant, what meant? Two names, same? Unsure, unsure. Felt Guard’s eyes on Mala. Mala stared at them. Tilted head. Didn’t answer, question, but stated: “Confused.”
What is important to me is the experience of making. I leave all my work outside and often return to watch it decay.- Andy Goldsworthy
Gladys frowned at the fact that one person had disobeyed her orders, but given the look of this…child? Was she still that young? She decided to excuse it to having a feeble mind and continue with the conversation accordingly.
“What’s your relation to each other?” she asked next, having noticed the fact they shared last names.
“She’s my daughter! Like I said before!” the man blurted, irritation behind his voice as he crossed his arms.
The woman frowned and looked like she was about to cry again and she curled inward. But as the people with her looked at her expectantly, she had no choice but to answer. “He’s my father…step-father. I don’t live with him though, I live with his son, my husband.”
“Yeah but he’s out fighting the war! So you gotta come home with me now!” the man, William continued. Gladys took a moment to think over the situation, looking to the oddball in the group to see what she was reacting.
“Always dream and shoot higher than you know you can do. Do not bother just to be better than your contemporaries or predecessors. Try to be better than yourself.” ―William Faulkner
Understanding drifted into Wern’s mind and an O, formed on his lips. So, that is what was happening. How troubling, and a situation that Wern found was really not in his business to linger in. Stepping away, the larger man was about to leave, but a hiss ran out, the strange girl, stepping between the step father, and his step daughter. “No go. No go if no want to.” Mala growled, back, hunched, stepping between three. “Women, no feel safe. Women must go where safe.” Mala growled, hovering closer to the girl in question.
What is important to me is the experience of making. I leave all my work outside and often return to watch it decay.- Andy Goldsworthy
“I feel safe with my husband,” the girl cried, tearing streaming from her eyes again. “I don’t want to go with his father.”
Gladys held up a hand, stopping the girl from saying more, while also stopping the man from retorting. “Miss, do you have a father or other man to care for you while your husband is away?” Gladys asked, a thin hint of compassion streaking into her voice.
She took a long time to answer. “No…my father is dead…”
Sighing, Gladys grabbed the hand of the feeble child and urged her to leave the pair alone. “Then I’m afraid you have to go with your step-father. Someone needs to take care of you if you can’t take care of yourself, which I trust is the case since your listed occupation is housewife. Your husband should have known this would happen when he left; unless he expected you to remarry.”
The girl only responded by crying more, feeling utterly defeated. Her stepfather grinned and reached out, grasping her wrist. “Right. You can start with the sewing when you arrive. My wife always needs help with that.” Gladys could only shrug in response and continue to try and peel the strange child away from the pair.
“Always dream and shoot higher than you know you can do. Do not bother just to be better than your contemporaries or predecessors. Try to be better than yourself.” ―William Faulkner
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