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
Post by Caitlin Cockfoster on Dec 13, 2013 2:44:45 GMT
Uhoh. Busted. She thought looked familiar as well. Her father wasn't above signing his daughter off to a military man instead of an aristocrat as long as the man was established. And a Commander was a pretty established rank. Of course, it must have been years since if they ever had a run in... her father hadn't had the opportunity to push her toward any more arranged marriages since before the war. Except for Sir Cohen... She did a mental shudder at that. It was one thing when she thought she'd killed him in the heat of battle, another when her father unknowingly engaged the two in a prearranged marriage and then Cohen had gotten himself killed by someone else entirely. One of his own she suspected, from the assassins guild, but there was no way of knowing for sure. It was only a hunch, and only because he'd failed to depose of her.
"Oh, uh," she blinked away those thoughts and came back to the present. She stared across at the man in uniform, tugging at a memory long past. He was handsome, not overly old, and fitter than most of the Barons associates. Had her father really ever tried to put the two of them together? Why else would he invite an untitled man to their home? Or perhaps she was looking at this all wrong. Maybe she'd been in a close call - not at her fathers estate but in one of her bandit operations - and nearly been caught by this man. How serious, she wondered, was he about his oath? "I can't say I recall how," she answered after a pause. Her eyelashes fluttered, trying to hide any possible guilt she might have from him.
She sat her glass down next to the decanter and leaned back. This was nice... like falling into a vat of marshmallow fluff. Calm, muffled, the rest of the world blocked out by the closed door to his cabin, and here they were safe inside. Safe from reality, safe from their own complicated lives. Safe from duty. Safe from context. Just. Safe. --Caitlin
He turned to look at her a bit harder, but whatever link there was seemed to be hidden behind a cloud in his mind, like a barely remembered dream that fades as soon as one wakes. Still it nagged at him. She was someone, that was for certain, "Perhaps your name? I never overheard if you gave it to the other man. If you are someone of import, perhaps I was assigned to a protection detail during the war." Was that it though? He had been assigned the occasional protection detail by his High Commander. To watch over some Lord's possessions or family members. There had been many threats against the nobility of Lodan during that time. They had been seen as somewhat complicit in the the conditions which lead to war in the first place. How ironic that in protecting those nobel's families, he had lost his own. The thought caused his brow to furrow as he took another swig of his drink, forcing himself to drink just that much and not the entire glass. If he went that route again he'd be stumbling home as drunk as the man he'd come to retrieve.
Post by Caitlin Cockfoster on Dec 14, 2013 5:07:26 GMT
Oh dear... that was a very viable possibility, but if he had been assigned to the Baron's protection detail, then he would know that Caitlin had been the scandal of the season, the missing daughter of Marquel... everyone assumed kidnapped by some nefarious pirate. She knew the rumors were bad for her fathers good name, but to be honest at the time they were a relief to her. It put a dent in his efforts to marry her off at least. And no one assumed the truth, that she was the nefarious pirate, not taken by one. And she had been too busy fighting in the war against the assassin's guild to come home.
Regardless of her personal gains and losses in society, her blush now was genuine. And she had to force herself to meet his gaze levelly as she revealed her shame. "Perhaps sir, I am the Barons Daughter."
She sat her glass down next to the decanter and leaned back. This was nice... like falling into a vat of marshmallow fluff. Calm, muffled, the rest of the world blocked out by the closed door to his cabin, and here they were safe inside. Safe from reality, safe from their own complicated lives. Safe from duty. Safe from context. Just. Safe. --Caitlin
The Barons daughter...no, he had no connection with the Barron or guarding his family. He did vaguely recall something about a missing girl, but he'd been too busy fighting for his life to give a flying cap about rumors of missing baronesses. "I'm sorry, it doesn't ring any bells, still you seem familiar." He shrugged, "Sounds like a frelling pickup line or something." He let it go. If he was going to remember, he'd have to let it come to him naturally. Nothing was ever remembered through force of will.
"I'm sorry," he said, suddenly remember his manners with the opposite sex...or anyone really, "I seem to have neglected to introduce myself. I'm Faolan Skye, or if you want to be formal, It's High Commander Skye." He offered his hand in a standard handshake.
Post by Caitlin Cockfoster on Dec 17, 2013 5:18:49 GMT
Caitlin was relived by his lack of recognition, despite his conviction that she seemed familiar. If it wasn't through her connections as baroness, then maybe it was through her role as a rogue. In which case - she hoped he failed to remember for a very very long time, if at all. She gave a relaxed smile and extended her hand to shake his.
"Baroness Caitlin Cockfoster, but please, just call me Cait," she replied a bit in awe. THE High Commander, no kidding? She was actually a bit stunned, and a might disappointed her father hadn't tried to engage the two. Whoever had the priveledge of being the high commanders wife was a lucky lady indeed. Then Cait mentally shook her thoughts. She was a rogue, not a lady waiting in her stateroom for prince charming to come sweep her off her feet and take her to his own estate to do much of the same as before.
She sat her glass down next to the decanter and leaned back. This was nice... like falling into a vat of marshmallow fluff. Calm, muffled, the rest of the world blocked out by the closed door to his cabin, and here they were safe inside. Safe from reality, safe from their own complicated lives. Safe from duty. Safe from context. Just. Safe. --Caitlin
He took her hand and left a small kiss on the back of it, as was the courtesy when being received by a Baroness. "A pleasure to meet you. We'll just pretend this is the first time since I can't remember the last one." He offered a smile again, but as before it looked rather forced. He was certainly not a man who was used to smiling, but he was trying to be civil. It had been a long time since he'd sat down for a drink with a woman, even if this one was a bit inadvertent. Not that he was interested in starting something. One family lost was rather more than he could bare. It would take some kind of miracle, no doubt, for him to ever be able to open up like that again.
"And what brings a Baroness to an establishment like this," he didn't mean it to say that this was a bad establishment, but it certainly wasn't a place where members of the upper crust tended to frequent. This one was atypical of the other women he tended to have the displeasure of meeting from those of upper class birth.
Post by Caitlin Cockfoster on Dec 19, 2013 4:37:41 GMT
She opened her mouth to answer, but nothing came out. What excuse could she make that wouldn't sound obsurd? She closed her lips and reached for her drink to fill in the pause. After taking a sip she smiled and answered.
"I confess I heard some of my fathers men saying this place had the best flavours, and I wanted an adventure so.." she fluttered her eyelashes prettily. "I came here to try it out for myself. Please don't tell my father- he'd be rather distressed to find me here." Truth be told he'd be rather impressed to find her at all. She hadn't been home since her failed engagement to the late Cohen. She wasn't about to tell him that, or he'd be the first one to escort her strait to Central Square.
She sat her glass down next to the decanter and leaned back. This was nice... like falling into a vat of marshmallow fluff. Calm, muffled, the rest of the world blocked out by the closed door to his cabin, and here they were safe inside. Safe from reality, safe from their own complicated lives. Safe from duty. Safe from context. Just. Safe. --Caitlin
"So let me get this strait," he said, raising an eyebrow as he gave her his full attention once more. "You wanted to have an adventure away from the stifling constraints of high society life, so you pick the very establishment his men tend to frequent? Either you're feeding me a pile of horse manure, or you very much want your father to be distressed." He cocked his head slightly as if trying to decide which one it was, but honestly, either way, it didn't matter. They weren't friends or even close acquaintances. If she wanted to lie to him about her reasons for being her that was her prerogative.
If it was the latter, well then he certainly wanted nothing to do with her. He was of middle class stock. His parents had certainly been comfortable, yet he had still been a commoner. He'd never aspired to much more than that life, yet growing up he'd still been looked down upon by those of noble birth and station, as if his very existence was distasteful to them. The idea that this girl was simply playing games with her father because she was bored or neglected among all her finery and servants...well it left a bad taste in the back of his mouth.
He hoped, for the sake of continued conversation, that it was the former.
Post by Caitlin Cockfoster on Dec 20, 2013 17:15:39 GMT
Her expression fell flat, and the blood drained out of her face a little. "Oh," she whispered a bit breathlessly. "I didn't think of that," and she really hadn't. He poked a giant size hole in her excuses and it was a good one, one that would spell disaster for her if it had been true. Caitlin did the most natural thing a girl in this situation would. She glanced around suddenly, fearful glances sweeping the room for any of her fathers associates. To her utter shock and horror, she actually found one. Her eyes got a little round, and she snapped around to face the bar, turning her back on the tables around the floor, and she made herself as small as possible in her seat.
"I suppose this was a folly plan after all sir, and you were absolutely right, though why it never occurred to me is a mystery." Had lying about her fathers men magically conjured one?? Of all the places she could be rediscovered, this was not the one she would have chosen. There was no glamour or glory in the lost daughter of Marquel being found in a pub.
She sat her glass down next to the decanter and leaned back. This was nice... like falling into a vat of marshmallow fluff. Calm, muffled, the rest of the world blocked out by the closed door to his cabin, and here they were safe inside. Safe from reality, safe from their own complicated lives. Safe from duty. Safe from context. Just. Safe. --Caitlin
Post by Danny Ravensdale on Dec 20, 2013 19:00:42 GMT
Danny slipped through the front doors of the pub and peered around as he let his eyes adjust to the change in lighting. After a moment of scanning the bar, he spotted someone worth looking for. The man in uniform appeared to be talking to a pretty lady. Perfect! If all went well, Danny could sell two copies at the same time! He approached the bar, only just spotting Jak as he made his approach. Danny cleared his throat once he got close enough to the two, and spoke up.
"Pardon, Lord'n'Lady. Don' mean ta innerupt, but I gots somethin' thatcha might be interested in, seein's how ya wear the uniform of one'a the guards an' all..." Danny's voice rattled off quickly. As he spoke, he reached into one of his satchel bags and removed a small leather bound book. "Stuff in'ere's good fer 'caution'ry stuff... keepin' the city safe'n all that." Danny opened up the front page of the book and began pointing at some of the illustrations. "See, I jus' got back from doin' a little pokin' around outta the city, an' thought ya good sirs might be innersted in gettin' yer hands on some monster data. B'fore ya say anythin' tryin' to deny the beasties out there, like some'a these guys like ta do, I know they're out there. You know they're out there too. S'why I'm tryin'a do my part as a citizen of the city... but I also need ta eat. Figure'd sellin' these ta you might help keep us a little safer, an' mebbe fill my belly too." Danny finished his tirade all too quickly. Throughout the whole speech, he kept glancing from the man in uniform to the lady he was with when he thought neither would notice. Otherwise, he kept his eyes firmly down and planted on his journal. Almost as an afterthought, Danny quietly muttered, "Sorry... didn' mean ta innerupt... just hungry..."
He watched her actions and considered that perhaps both his assumptions had been wrong. The wheels in his brain that had earned him his recognition as a more than capable strategist began to turn. Did he have it backwards? Was she trying to hide from her father? Had he done something that had made her flee? Some Barrons let the title and power turn them abusive. It was possible, he'd never met the man, but if that were the case, why would she introduce herself as the Barron's daughter? It seemed counterproductive to staying hidden to introduce oneself as a Baroness.
He was about to address this interesting development when the small boy jumped in the middle of their conversation, with an attempt to sell some self written journal of the monsters outside the city. It wasn't something high on his list of needs. If he needed a list of monsters he only had to consult the librarian, who kept an accounting of such things. She had quite the collection, and a bad temper for anyone who mishandled what she considered her property. The Barracks didn't host a massive collection, but what they had was more specialized to the tasks they were likely to be assigned and to the threats they were likely to encounter. Skye had even added a few volumes on tactics since his appointment to High Commander.
"I'm sorry," he said, choosing not to simply dismiss the child. Who was he to be all high and mighty, after all. "I'm not really in the market for such things, but if it's a hot meal you're looking for." He turned to address the man behind the bar whose response was rather immediate.
"Can I refill your drink for you Commander?" The man asked, moving towards the drawer where he kept the good stuff.
"No thank you, I'm fine with what I have, but I would consider it a personal favor if you can scrounge up some hot food for the young man here." Skye gestured with his head towards the boy in between him and the baroness.
The barkeep didn't look at all pleased with the proposition, but he knew better than to say no to the High Commander. At least if he wanted to stay unmolested in some of his shadier business practices.
Post by Danny Ravensdale on Dec 23, 2013 1:12:38 GMT
Danny looked at the soldier and shook his head. "Sorry ta 'ave been a bother, sir. Thankya fer the meal, but I ain' nobody's charity case. If I can't eat with my own work, then I ain' eatin'. Man's got 'is pride, got 'is standards, ya know? I'm sure ya unnerstand." He rolled his shoulders and slipped his journal away. "If'n ya need some beasty news, come ta me, yeh? I head outta town ta the forest e'ery other night or so, lookin' fer more info fer my work." Danny brushed his thumb across his nose and shoved his hands into his pockets. "Again, thanks fer the meal offer, but I jus' can't take a handout. Gotta work ta eat, otherwise nobody'll take me seriously. Nobody takes me seriously, I ain' gettin' no respect." Danny reached up to pull his scarf higher across his face.
Post by Caitlin Cockfoster on Dec 26, 2013 20:54:46 GMT
Caitlin was trying to keep a low profile, so she avoided turning around to see the lad with the beastie intelligence at first. Then the sound of a familiar tone caught her ears and snagged her attention. She turned to the lad just as he was pulling his scarf tighter around his face. Danny... he hadn't been lying that night in the woods when she'd chased down Rava. This kid was serious about documenting the shadow beasts and selling their data. Images of that night flashed across her mind and goosebumps raised on her forearms. She'd rather pay the kid to stay OUT of the forest, but she knew that wouldn't work.
"I might have a bit of coin in exchange for some knowledge," she wagered. "Of course, you could just as soon sell it to the Beastarium and get paid the same if not more - for all of your articles." She glanced once over her shoulder at her fathers footman before discretely pulling her coin purse out from under her sword belt. Yes, she had on her sword belt, the same one her father had given her for training in fencing. The only difference between then and now was the sword attached to it was no Foil but a real blade.
She sat her glass down next to the decanter and leaned back. This was nice... like falling into a vat of marshmallow fluff. Calm, muffled, the rest of the world blocked out by the closed door to his cabin, and here they were safe inside. Safe from reality, safe from their own complicated lives. Safe from duty. Safe from context. Just. Safe. --Caitlin
He took another small sip of his drink, knowing, when it was done, that he would have to return to the normal dull duties that occupied his day. He often sat is his office considering leaving the city to test his sword arm against whatever beastie might challenge him, but that would be reckless, and reckless got people killed. There wasn't much left in the drink, he saw by looking at it, but he wasn't sure if he wanted to draw out his time here because of the paperwork waiting on his desk, or because this woman had drawn his curiosity.
Post by Danny Ravensdale on Dec 31, 2013 19:53:51 GMT
"'ey! If it ain' one'a the crazies! You two ain' been out'n about in the woods again, 'ave ya?" Danny stared at Caitlin. He shrugged his shoulders and reached into his bags to pull out his journal again. "Yer little bat finish 'er leathers then? Ya know what? I don' need ta know... ain' my business no more. 'owever, if either of ya are headin' back out, look me up, yeh? I'd be willin' ta make sure ya got in an' out safe'n sound... fer a fee, 'course." Danny grinned under his scarf. "Whaddya thinkin' fer price range on one'a these books?" Danny's whole attention was on the crazy swords woman and his book, with the military man all but forgotten. Danny leaned in as close as he dared to the woman and whispered to her, perhaps a little too loudly, "Ya look better in yer other clothes... the dress don' suit ya, if ya don' mind me sayin'."
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