[Exalted 3e] Winter is Coming (IC)

[HalfTangible]

OOC
Discord

---

Winter is Coming
Session 1

"In the depth of winter, I finally learned that there was in me an invincible summer" -Albet Camus

[Fortitude]
The Twenty-Eighth Day of Descending Air

In a time long since forgotten, Fortitude had served as the largest and greatest prison of an Empire for whom criminality was carried in the blood. Those descended from a murderer were also murderers in waiting, and would be treated as such. The prison was built as a labor camp for. Beneath the prison lay catacombs that stretched in every direction beneath the soil, holding plants and jewels that had never seen the sun. Why the prison had been made to harvest these prizes has been lost to history, for that empire had shattered and been swept away long before the coming of the Realm. When the Scarlet Empress took the city into her empire, she paid it little heed. The city was made into a satrapy, but it was such a miserable scar on the land that no one wished to make use of it. Her armies moved on for far more prized targets in the north, and the Realm as a whole has done little to disrupt it since. The city was a Realm satrapy in name only, and no true satrap had lived in Fortitude for decades; so long as the city continued to trade gems and herbs with the Realm, it was allowed to do as it pleased.

Fortitude was always a dark place, but it was especially so during the winter months. Though not as far to the north as Crystal, Tusk or even Grieve, Fortitude was far colder than its location relative to these places suggested. This night was no different; the day had been overcast and frigid, but even the little warmth that the Unconquered shined upon Fortitude was beginning to sink beneath the horizon. People sought safety in their homes, by the roaring fires and comforting warmth of friends and family.

It was a strange place to an outsider. Though the city was no longer a prison, the buildings still looked like one even in newer areas. Markets had been set up within former prison yards. Buildings that once served as hab-blocks now acted as communal apartments and hotels, the centers of various communities. Watch towers that served no function of their own anymore dotted the streets, a constant reminder of the city's past.

Whether by Fate, by the lure of business, or simple bad luck you have found yourselves in the den of Soft Whispers, a crime boss within the city. The area was once a mess hall for the prisoners but has been converted into a tavern and his personal domain. A roaring hearth casts the room in a harsh orange glow, providing more warmth to the "guests" than many would ever experience in their lives. In the corner, a small fighting pit has been set up, and a pair of ruffians are beating each other up. One was a smaller woman with red hair, one arm hanging limp by her side as she grit her teeth. The other was a large man with a fierce beard, both eyes bruised shut.

At the bar, sake was pouring liberally. Pretty women and handsome men flirted openly with those customers that looked wealthy enough to buy more rounds, and the charmed patrons obliged not only for themselves but for the crowd. Others sat alone, exhaustion clear in their bowed heads and dirty limbs. Drunken laughter echoed throughout the makeshift tavern, and sudden cheers ring out as the fight in the pit ends, the larger man on his back as the girl gasps for air on her knees.

By the roaring fire, there are those who are not used to the cold of Fortitude, or who are hit more strongly than others. There are children gathered, overseen by a young man made gaunt and ragged by his time in the prison-city. He hands a young girl his coat and moves closer to the flames, rubbing his hands. A group at the bar notices him do this, one of the men standing up to walk towards him.

This is the situation in which you find yourself.

What are you doing?

[Justanotherhero]

Standing in appropriate distance from the fight and watching is Vor. A figure that could hardly be overlooked.

A statue of varicolored prisms, each gemstone segment no larger than a mortal’s thigh bone. He has three legs and five arms and no face. His body only covered by a green emblem on cloth.

To his left a woman covered in a fur coat with a face of very red colour for this region. She is wearing a similar green emblem on cloth.

To his right a tall man with dark hair ,green eyes and a rather bland face wearing a shield [and if he is allowed to a straight sword] wearing obvious armor made of animal hide. While the others are watching the fight Stark of Varlok is scanning the crowd for potential threats and just came back from providing the lady in the fur coat a new drink. He appears to be the guard and servant of the other two. And is also wearing a green emblem on cloth.

[WarDragon]

Brandr waits for his meeting with Soft Whispers, silently seething at being made to wait. Internally, he debates the practicality of simply walking, in stabbing the man and declaring himself in charge. He convinces himself - for the umpteenth time - that it would cause more problems than it solved, but may revisit the question if he's kept waiting for too much longer.

He tries to distract himself from his impatience by looking around for familiar faces, and finding a few. He marks the woman who won the fight as a potential quality recruit later, and keeps a wary eye on the strange three-legged creature and its guards. He nods to Marius, wondering idly what the other crimelord is doing here in Fortitude again.

His attention is diverted by the man walking towards the children. He keeps another eye on that situation as it develops.

[Volthawk]

The scene in front of Larin leaves a small nostalgic smile on his face. It reminded him of his youth, sneaking out from the tunnels to explore and end up in places lie this, particularly when it was this cold. These days, he was a lot more robust, and the heavy clothes he wore over his more distinctive uniform helped quite nicely as well, allowing him to sit in one of the quieter spots and get a read on the situation. He still wasn't sure yet if anything had to be done about Soft Whispers, although he was leaning towards no, but it was still helpful to keep an eye on places like this, which drew people in out of the cold and the dark. That, and he was still a human being who liked being warm and fed once you put all the other stuff aside.

Still, tonight was shaping up to be more interesting than he was expecting, judging by all the faces he was seeing. Either something was going on that he'd missed, or this was one of those coincidences that led to things spiralling out of control. There was always the chance of a coincidence that ends up being harmless, of course, but those were more pleasant surprises than something to plan for. Either way, this was something he'd have to keep a closer watch on. His eyes wander over the various doors out of the hall - one of them was presumably where Soft Whispers was, and whatever could happen had a good chance of involving him to some degree. Brandr also gets his interest - now that was someone who he was definitely aware of, and at this point the main hint as to what might happen, given something warranted the gang leader to turn up in person.

[Apogee1]

It was regrettable, Allev thought, that he had to spend so much time around these ruffians. But, supplies had to be acquired somehow, so here he was, with a stack of cloth and a vague understanding that one of the underbosses might be around to negotiate later on. In the meanwhile, he sits back at table off to the side of the hearth. He had been exchanging greetings and small talk with a few other tradesmen who have come here for similar purposes. The conversations have trickled off, however, and he's spending more time gazing about the room.

The crowd tonight had a few interesting presences. He couldn't quite place one man, who he thought had been a high-up in one of the gangs a few years back but he had not seen in some time. And of course the statue and the men around it, garbed in their green robes and emblems. Truly, this place was yet another power struggle waiting to happen. He lingered on a few of the people drinking alone, and on the children in the center. It would perhaps be unwise to go and offer them a drink and conversation or perhaps more before meeting with the leadership here, but he would do his best to do so before he left. The children especially could use a few extra layers. Noticing the approach towards them of the man from the bar, his eyes narrow slightly and he keeps the corner of his vision there as he waits.

[Justanotherhero]

He tries to distract himself from his impatience by looking around for familiar faces, and finding a few. He marks the woman who won the fight as a potential quality recruit later, and keeps a wary eye on the strange three-legged creature and its guards. He nods to Marius, wondering idly what the other crimelord is doing here in Fortitude again.

Stark nods in the direction of Brandr and carries on fulfilling his mission to bring drinks.

[DrakeRaids]

It was impossible to miss her, for several reasons.

The largest of course, was the giant white jade tetsubo leaning against the wall beside her as she savored a cup of sake. Even that aside though, her reflective, almost gemstone like eyes, the cool marble of her skin and obsidian hair, she was striking in the way that only a dragon blooded could be. And more than that, she was dressed in what looked like the attire of a monk. Though, it was curious what a Monk would be doing in a den of sin like this? Or perhaps not. Traveling monks needed to eat after all.

She had only just arrived in the town, if you could even be so generous to call it that, an hour or so before. And more than anything, she wanted something to eat and drink, and to rest her legs before she had to start getting to work. There had been some clandestine communication with at least one Anathem-Solar, in the city, but she would start courting them for a meeting tomorrow. Tonight? That was for letting her mind wander a little. The sake wasn't bad, honestly. Not nearly as good as what they had back home but... It was good enough to nudge the edge off. The food tasted excellent as well, but how much of that was due to having been eating trail rations for the past week it was hard to tell.

As it stood, she was more engrossed in her food and drink, and letting the weight of the road slide off her than she was the room around her at the moment. Reflection leaned back and smiled, genuine one as she enjoyed the ebb and tide of the rooms chaos. Every now and then someone would approach her, but she seemed excellent at being perfectly polite while also telling them effectively nothing about why she was here and who she was specifically. And it was always... Risky to press a Dragon-Blooded for answers they had no interest in giving. And at least thus far, no one had decided to try their luck. For the best, really.

This was her night off. Tomorrow, it would be time to recruit a Sun-King or two.

[Eurus]

"I don't know, Usho... This just doesn't seem like a hero kind of place."

Saint of Heroes was the sort of person who looked just a little bit out-of-place anywhere he went, and here was no exception. His build was too slender to be a laborer, his hands too fair to be a hired blade. His clothes were too cheap to be a merchant's, unless he was specifically trying to hide his wealth, but the bright (well, rather faded really) red cloak he was wearing wasn't the sort of thing you'd wear if you were trying to avoid notice. With his pale skin and long hair he might have been able to pass for a courtesan, but a once-broken nose and a few faded scars on his face made that seem equally unlikely. His walking staff, a tall length of pale wood banded with green-tarnished metal, didn't provide any clues.

"Yes, well, even heroes need food and shelter. Camping out was fine in the summer, but we're going to freeze to death in the night out here if we can't find a room."

His companion, Usho, fit in well enough. Bundled up in a more normal looking cloak, with a dagger strapped to his belt and a scarf covering his short hair, he'd probably be overlooked as a caravaner. The two were sitting in a corner, having found the place surprisingly busy and the tables all full, talking in casual, conversational tones and trusting the general noise of the room to inhibit any eavesdropping. Taking pains to whisper just made you look suspicious, after all.

"Yeah, yeah, I get it. Still, renting rooms from gangs? Shouldn't we be... I don't know, beating up some nasty thugs and then having a grateful old widow offer to let us stay with her out of gratitude or something?"

Usho sips his hot drink and shrugs, obviously used to his companion's eccentricities. "When you find some, let me know."

[HalfTangible]

Brandr, your meeting with Soft Whispers was supposed to begin an hour ago. His reputation suggests that such laziness is typical; the man is a womanizer and slothful in the extreme, preferring parties and cute women to any serious gang activity. However, despite this attitude, you know Soft Whispers has tremendous influence in the city, primarily as an information broker. If you need to learn something about Fortitude, he knows or will know. He's also quite adept at making people disappear - whether they want to or not. This contradiction between his attitude in public and his reputation has made the man unpredictable and his activities hard to trace. He would be invaluable to have on your side.......... if he would just ****ing meet with you already!!

Reflection, the waitstaff tries to get your attention, but they stop pretty quickly after you brush one or two of them off. Syl Geas was always cryptic about his exact motives for sending you anywhere. You know you're meeting with a Solar of some description, but you don't know their name, their appearance... or even their gender. All you really know is that he's excited about this particular prospect (well, relatively excited; Syl was always a bit dour). Finding him in Fortitude will take time, but Solars rarely keep themselves quiet for long; you're certain you won't spend much time waiting.

Marius, you get your drinks, and a wink from the cute barmaid. She twists a bit of brown hair around one finger, looking you over. "What brings you to this neck of the woods, handsome?" There's a soft purr to her tone.

Larin, Brandr looks impatient. He's waiting outside of one of the doors out of the main common area. You've seen such places before. This building was repurposed from the former prison, so you know the door he's waiting by leads upstairs, towards what would have been cells for the inmates. In all likelihood, Soft Whispers has set up an office or personal lounge for himself up there. It'd be easy enough to sneak upstairs... but with so many prominent criminals here (and from the looks of it a giant golem) lighting that powder keg may not be the best idea.

Allev, trade hasn't been good lately. Fortitude needs a lot of that trade to survive; Grieve in particular has been a great source of revenue in recent years for the herbalists and miners. But of course, none of that matters if you can't get a caravan from Fortitude to Grieve and back. Some caravans aren't returning, others that are expected never arrive. It happens, of course, especially this close to winter, but the tradesmen still get hurt by it.

The gangster stalking towards the fire doesn't seem interested in the kids. Instead he heads right for the man looking after them, and grabs him by the shoulder in the rough, confident manner of a hunter finding his prey. The younger man panics for a moment, backing away towards the fire, arms raised in a placating gesture. "Oh, h-hey, Butcher! How's the-"

In answer, Butcher grabbed Ilari by the neck and slammed him against the wall, drawing the attention of the entire room.

"Ilari you little ****." The man growled. "You didn't come back, we figured you died."

"D-did you mourn me?" Ilari tried and failed to give a smile.

"The boss hired you for a simple job." Butcher growled. "And you're alive. So. Where is it?"

"couldn't... get it..." Ilari choked out. "Butch... choking..."

Usho blinks twice, then glances at Saint. "Huh. Speak of demons and they'll come, I guess."

[DrakeRaids]

"Is there a problem?"

The commotion near the fire had drawn the Dragon Blooded's eye. She hadn't moved from her seat but her voice reverberated in the room, resounding like the echoes of a deep cavern. She made no move to lift her weapon, simply sipped at her sake as she watched the man threat, and choke the other man. People. This one was a bully. She'd never cared for bullies, and it was a dragon's duty to defend the weak, was it not? Still, brazen, how badly had this city fallen? Didn't they have something approaching order here, that would stop someone from being assaulted in plan sight? She gestured towards the Butcher from her table, tone still calm, but commanding.

"I think you should release the man. I don't think he can breath. If you don't, I'd have to get up. And I suspect you wouldn't like that."

[HalfTangible]

Butcher glances at Reflection and snorts. "This ain't the Isle. Ye got no authority here, lil' dragon." Despite saying this, he loosens his grip on Ilari's neck and lets him drop to the ground; even if Reflection doesn't technically have authority here, Butcher has no desire to see what she can do with that giant white tetsubo. "T'answer yer question, lil' Ilari here's stolen something from Zenmul. We thought he'd died, but since he's here, he owes our boss what he was paid for."

The boy gasps deeply, hand at his own throat. "I told you, I din't get it. I tried, but I got found. I barely got out alive!"

"Ye expect me to believe that you got out of the Warden's Court without a scratch? Come on, Ilari, if you're gonna lie, make it believable." The thugs with Butcher snorted, and one of them kicked Ilari's side. "Where is it?"

Those of you native to Fortitude recognize both Zenmul and the Warden's names. (Everyone else, roll Int + Lore, TN 3)

Spoiler

Show

Zenmul is the god of cooking and food within the city, but he was originally the god in charge of food for the prison. He's not exactly powerful or well-liked, but everyone needs to eat, and the slop he provides is better than nothing. He has a large following among the desperate and hungry within the city.

The Warden, though... Urias is known as the Unyielding Keeper of Cages and the Final Judge. While he is not the god of the city itself, he was originally in charge of the running of the prison. Guards once prayed to him for safety and good judgement in the face of the criminals, and though Fortitude has long since stopped being a prison, Urias still attempts to run it like one. All beings in the city are, after a fashion, descended from one group of criminals or another, and committing a crime in front of him is tantamount to suicide. He famously does not get along with Zenmul, and is more than a little unhinged.

Asking a boy in his late teens to steal from Urias is like asking him to do dental work on a shark while wearing raw meat. If it's true that Ilari tried to steal from him, the fact that the boy got out alive is a small miracle.

[WarDragon]

"If he's telling the truth, it's impressive enough he got out alive, let alone with whatever you asked him to steal. That'd take either luck or skill; which is it, boy?"

[Justanotherhero]

After hearing what the barmaid said Stark replies: "Rumours have it that some pretty women in the city are at risk of freezing to death during this winter and.."

As the conflict between the teen and the man begins Stark watches.
When the Dragon-Blooded begins to speak Stark stays where he is and signals in Vors direction to take a step back towards the Ring. Making room for the potential fighters.

Slowly grabbing his shield from his back.

[Eurus]

"Whoa! Okay, uh... what line should I go in on? I told you we needed to practice action lines..."

In the time it takes Saint of Heroes to process the situation and rise to his feet, someone else has intervened. The sonorous voice coming from the monk with the huge club was rather arresting, and Saint stopped short to listen and whisper to Usho.

"Wow. Are all Immaculates like that?"

At any rate, the immediate crisis seems to be averted. Nobody's actively being choked right now, so it's not a great time to swoop in and save the day. He's still standing with his staff in one hand as he watches the room, noting a few other people moving as well and trying to figure out what's going on. The names that the big guy mentions don't mean anything to Saint, but the basic idea -- that the young man's being shaken down for some missing loot -- is obvious enough.

[Volthawk]

Well, this certainly got more interesting, if the gods are involved. Larin hadn't turned his attention to the city's gods yet, preferring to deal with the mortal elements first, but it looked like they might be about to shift his priorities. For a few moments, he considers what to do next, before coming to a decision. This argument was public enough that he shouldn't have trouble finding out the details, and he had his suspicions that if Butcher was waiting here and Ilari had come here after failing, Soft Whispers had something to do with it.

Getting up from his seat, Larin walks over to one of the darker spots of the room, taking advantage of the distraction of the confrontation by the fire so he can simply step into the shadows cast by the firelight - quite literally, as the man becomes a shadow that starts moving towards the door to Whispers' office, discreetly slipping under the door.

Spoiler

Show

Using the Belt of Shadow Walking's 10m (12m peripheral using the night anima power to make it mute) power to become a shadow so Larin doesn't have to actually open the door. If the lighting by the door qualifies as well-lit, anyone watching the door gets a difficulty 3 (Per+Awa) check to see the weird moving shadow.

[HalfTangible]

"Whoa! Okay, uh... what line should I go in on? I told you we needed to practice action lines..."

In the time it takes Saint of Heroes to process the situation and rise to his feet, someone else has intervened. The sonorous voice coming from the monk with the huge club was rather arresting, and Saint stopped short to listen and whisper to Usho.

"Wow. Are all Immaculates like that?"

At any rate, the immediate crisis seems to be averted. Nobody's actively being choked right now, so it's not a great time to swoop in and save the day. He's still standing with his staff in one hand as he watches the room, noting a few other people moving as well and trying to figure out what's going on. The names that the big guy mentions don't mean anything to Saint, but the basic idea -- that the young man's being shaken down for some missing loot -- is obvious enough.

After hearing what the barmaid said Stark replies: "Rumours have it that some pretty women in the city are at risk of freezing to death during this winter and.."

As the conflict between the teen and the man begins Stark watches.
When the Dragon-Blooded begins to speak Stark stays where he is and signals in Vors direction to take a step back towards the Ring. Making room for the potential fighters.

Slowly grabbing his shield from his back.

"If he's telling the truth, it's impressive enough he got out alive, let alone with whatever you asked him to steal. That'd take either luck or skill; which is it, boy?"

Well, this certainly got more interesting, if the gods are involved. Larin hadn't turned his attention to the city's gods yet, preferring to deal with the mortal elements first, but it looked like they might be about to shift his priorities. For a few moments, he considers what to do next, before coming to a decision. This argument was public enough that he shouldn't have trouble finding out the details, and he had his suspicions that if Butcher was waiting here and Ilari had come here after failing, Soft Whispers had something to do with it.

Getting up from his seat, Larin walks over to one of the darker spots of the room, taking advantage of the distraction of the confrontation by the fire so he can simply step into the shadows cast by the firelight - quite literally, as the man becomes a shadow that starts moving towards the door to Whispers' office, discreetly slipping under the door.

Spoiler

Show

Using the Belt of Shadow Walking's 10m (12m peripheral using the night anima power to make it mute) power to become a shadow so Larin doesn't have to actually open the door. If the lighting by the door qualifies as well-lit, anyone watching the door gets a difficulty 3 (Per+Awa) check to see the weird moving shadow.

Ilari's grin was strained. "Uh, both, I guess? You looking to hire? I'll do whatever you want if you keep this guy from gutting me-"

"Don't you dare try and weasal out of this, brat! You're coming with us right after I rough you up for what you've done."

The barmaid speaking to Marius turns her attention towards the fight. "Now hold on, people, this place is Soft Whispers' territory, you start a brawl here-"

"Shut it."

Usho frowns, rubbing his chin. "Aw ****, um... how about... 'you villains thought to face a child, instead you face a hero'? Eh, maybe too generic... How about 'The Saint of Heroes has come to save this innocent... thief of divine treasures?' Uh... 'pick on someone better than you'? No, no, we don't wanna insult the kid..."

Vors' footsteps shake the room, drawing every eye and the full attention of most.

The room seems frozen, the tension ready to snap at any moment...

---

[Larin]

Larin, you are able to slip past the notice of anyone in the room thanks to Vors and the sudden shift towards violence that the room has taken. The door leads to a central chamber that at one point housed prisoners. The chamber is multi-storied, with cells lining the walls facing inward. The doors are merely bars, letting you see into each of them with relative ease. There are guards, but you slip past them easily enough. A few of the cells in this area are occupied, but near the top, you can see a trio of cells that have had their walls knocked down to be turned into a singular chamber; no guards are on that level, but it's worth a shot. And then, right as you get close, you hear...

... moaning, giggling and rustling clothes.

Oh dear.

When you look inside, you see a makeshift office with a large couch. There is a man and a woman intensely making out on the couch. From the looks of it, the two just started really getting into each other. No one's clothes are off yet, but the two are... exploring.

The man's neck bears a group of tattoos arranged as astrological signs. His skin is dark, screaming of a far southern origin. He is fit, lithe and good-looking; the kind of handsome that takes away the breath of even those uninterested in men. The woman is a scantily-clad redhead with smooth alabaster skin that you don't recognize, blushing profusely as the handsome man kisses her neck.

... This matches up pretty much perfectly with what you know of Soft Whispers. The neck tattoos are apparently a southern thing.

((Roll: 3sux))

Soft Whispers stops, then turns his head upwards towards the door. He glares directly at Larin.

"... Honey?" The woman asks, confusedly glancing in the same direction as he was, not seeing the shadow.

"Dear," Whispers said quietly, "Stay here on this couch and don't move. It seems we have a voyeur in need of a stern talking-to." He rose from his position on the couch, pulling his robe back on to cover his chest. "I know you can hear me, friend, and you cannot hide so easily. Come, speak with me."

His voice carries, and you can hear boots stomping.

[Justanotherhero]

Using this frozen moment in time in a way Stark of Varlok was very serious.

Marius was satisfied and hiding it very well. Vor had done exactly what he was supposed to do distract people.
In this case so he could take a look at the young man and the brute, anger and fear, such pure emotions it should be easy to find out if the boy is telling the truth.

With that Stark started studying the young man's movements. In what direction was he looking? Did he appear looking for help in the crowd? Maybe a secret accomplice? How do his clothes look? Any compartments for hidden weapons or new clothes?

(Read intentions 4 )

[DrakeRaids]

"No. I think this has gone on more than long enough."

Reflections words came out slow and steady, her inflection and accent marking her as someone who clearly wasn't from the region, Blessed Isle probably? She didn't know what all this was about, who the Warden or who this 'Butch' was or the 'Warden'. She honestly only tangentially cared. Knowing her luck it was going to become her problem somewhere down the line, bit for now she could hope that maybe she could carry on with her mission without getting fully entangled. Still, she wasn't about to watch an adolescent get the **** kicked out of him and, pragmatically, no one in this room seemed to want that. You didn't have to be an Exalted to read a room, this enforcer was making an ass of himself. If she intervened and played her cards right she could get the locals on her side. Could make finding her hidden little suns a little easier.

With the force of a rising mountain Reflection shifted to her feet. She towered over most of the patrons, her hand grabbing the heft of her massive goremaul and with a single arm lifted it effortlessly onto her should as she began to move towards Butcher. Every step seemed to shift the ground beneath them slightly as her coal black eyes glinted, reflecting the fires of the hearth. "You're disrupting a perfectly good night. I'm no expert but I don't think its good practice to do shakedowns of adolescents in the middle of a busy sake-den, right in front of someone who could break every single bone below your neck without any real effort. So since you seem to be having trouble making coherent life choices right now, let me give you some advice 'Butch'."

"Get the **** out before I break your legs."

[WarDragon]

"Wasn't talking to you, Butcher," Brander says, his spear dipping down to point at the thug. "Much as it sickens me to admit it, I agree with the Dragon-Blooded. You'd best back down." His eyes never leave Ilari, trying to decipher whether he's being honest... and whether this was even worth his time

((OOC: Rolled 5 sux on Read Intentions in the discord.))

"As it happens, I might be. I'll warn you though, your first job for me would be to finish your last one," he says, nodding at Butcher. "I've got no desire for a blood feud with Zenmul."

[DrakeRaids]

Sickens him to admit it?

That was curious. Opinion on the Realm wasn't an all time high here but that was a dangerous thing to say to some Dragon-Blooded. She didn't say anything, but her gaze noticably flickered over to Brandr now. Despite her casual method of speech it was hard to appraise what was going on her head. She gave away little as she looked over the man as if trying to find something. Before then glancing back returning her glower to Butcher, the moment passed.

[Apogee1]

As Reflection and Brandt confront the man, Allev stands up and moves closer to the fire. He’s moving slowly, not particularly trying to hide but rather seeming somewhat cautious or hesitant. He circles towards the children Ilari was near, approaching whichever seem to be the eldest.

“Would you all care to join me at my table?” he says, glancing back towards the brewing conflict. Running a hand over the wrapped length of his sword, he pulls a few colorful threads into his fingers and twirls them, forming small woven patterns between his fingers. “I would be happy to add a little something to your clothes, and it might be a bit more enjoyable than around this fire in a few moments.”

[Volthawk]

Larin shrugs as he steps out of the shadows, the motion making the cloak he was wearing slip off his shoulders and reveal the Hundred Coils beneath. Someone with Whispers' knowledge should know exactly what the clothes mean, and he's content to let any uncertainty about the reason for his presence linger for a while longer.

"I was simply curious what was keeping you from your meeting." He looks at the woman and shrugs again. "I was expecting it to be a more interesting reason. Your tendencies might cause you problems, you know. Sooner rather than later, from what I've seen..." After giving the statement due pause, he continues. "Not from me, though. Not today. You have bigger issues than that." He pauses again, seeing how Whispers responds to the bait he's dangling.

[Eurus]

Tragically, Saint of Heroes feels that he's missed his window. The number of frankly scary people starting to get involved in this is getting excessive, and he's a little worried that a brawl at this point might level the building. He can't quite pull his eyes away from Vor; even if he's not a thief anymore, the lure of shiny things is hard to resist, and that creature is awfully shiny.

"Ah, what a mess. I knew this place would have a rough crowd, but this is wild."

He sighs, but doesn't sit down quite yet. If a fight does break out, obviously he'll have to get involved. Sharing the glory will be annoying, but nobody said the hero's life was easy...

[HalfTangible]

Usho puts a hand on Saint's shoulder. "Hang on, hang on, you don't wanna try and compete with the dragon, do you? An Immaculate could give us trouble even if they don't know you're... ya know."

The moment Butcher showed up Ilari had quickly drawn inward. His eyes had been darting furtively throughout the building as the conversation went on, looking for any way out. Ilari didn't have any allies here, as far as you can tell. Perhaps he'd been here seeking asylum?

His clothes were worn and ragged; thick enough for the cold, but just barely. He'd had that outfit for a long time and never replaced it despite clearly, desperately needing to. There might be a weapon hidden somewhere, but it doesn't seem likely. If he had one, why wouldn't he have used it by now? At the very least when Butcher had him by the neck. You get the sense that Ilari just wants to get out of here alive, and from the way he looks at Butcher, Ilari doesn't think that's likely. And when Brandr says that he'd hire Ilari on, he initially relaxes... up until he says he would need Ilari to finish his last job. Then he goes right back to panicking.

Allev is able to get the kids moving away from the fight about to go down, though they don't seem eager to leave the warmth of the fire behind.

Reflection's threat booms throughout the room. For a moment, there's a pause, as if someone is waiting for Reflection to announce she's joking... but then, one of the girls with Butcher takes a step back. Then the man with a scar. Until all of them have backed away, leaving Butcher standing alone facing a dragon.

Butcher looks between all of those standing up to him now, and his cronies. Then he turns to glare at the dragon, seemingly unphased (though Brandr and Marius can tell he's scared too). "Fine, we're leaving. But this isn't over. Ilari can't-"

The bonfire suddenly goes out, and the room is plunged into darkness.

There was dead silence in the now lightless room.

".... oh, hang on, lemme..." Someone called out, as sparks leapt up near the hearth. "Huh, that... that's odd. It should be catching... anyone got a light?"

---

Larin shrugs as he steps out of the shadows, the motion making the cloak he was wearing slip off his shoulders and reveal the Hundred Coils beneath. Someone with Whispers' knowledge should know exactly what the clothes mean, and he's content to let any uncertainty about the reason for his presence linger for a while longer.

"I was simply curious what was keeping you from your meeting." He looks at the woman and shrugs again. "I was expecting it to be a more interesting reason. Your tendencies might cause you problems, you know. Sooner rather than later, from what I've seen..." After giving the statement due pause, he continues. "Not from me, though. Not today. You have bigger issues than that." He pauses again, seeing how Whispers responds to the bait he's dangling.

"Bah. Vague platitudes from a jealous man are not going to sway me. You have no appointment and I have no desire to indulge you anyway." Soft says, turning back to the girl. "Please take him downstairs. We have pleasurable company for you there if you are so inclined, stranger."

The guards arrive, two on each side of Larin. One of them places her hand on his shoulder, firm but not forceful. "Come on, big guy, we've got-"

The lights in the room all extinguished at once.

"... This is in poor taste, boy."

That got the guard to grip his shoulder tighter. "Don't you dare-"

[Volthawk]

Larin doesn't move, past slightly turning his head to address the guard with a hand on him. "You can take my hand off me now. I'm leaving here under my own power, when I want to, and if you try to force the issue, we'll see the difference between how two untrained thugs and a master of Ebon Shadow style and the foremost assassin of the Order Below fights. It will not end well for you." He then looks back at Whispers, the dark not bothering him much - he may not know why it happened, but he would soon, and for now he had more immediate problems. Besides, it was an advantage for him here. "This isn't me. It might be because of you though, if the little drama going on in your establishment has anything to do with you. He who scorns the gods invites retribution, after all."

[HalfTangible]

[Larin]

"Assassinations are the last refuge of the incompetent and the cowardly." You don't hear or see the door open, but Soft Whispers walks forward and between blinks of your eyes is standing before you, outside of the cell. "And he who must boast of power has none. I have done nothing to scorn the gods, boy; my only meetings today are with mortal gangsters. Now speak plainly. What are you referring to?"

[Eurus]

As the lights go out, Saint of Heroes' catlike reflexes kick in and he jumps back into a corner, on guard for some sort of shadow-beast attack... which never comes. After a few awkward moments, his eyes adjust enough to make out at least the general silhouettes in the room.

"...What's going on? Usho, stick with me."

Carefully, Saint navigates toward the door, relying on his agility to avoid any collisions. When he gets there, he opens the door, quite likely letting out the heat but at least letting a bit more light in. It also lets him take a quick look outside, to see if there's any commotion out there.

[HalfTangible]

"Sna- Saint, wait, hold up, it's-" As Saint pulls the door open, a cold wind blows into the building from the outside, cutting deep into his flesh like a blade. Saint's quick glance out the door shows that - fading sunlight aside - the city is dark. He can't see any lights or fires anywhere. Some people are, like him, poking their heads out of doors to see what's happening. No panic seems to have begun, but there is clear confusion. Usho pulls Saint back inside and pushes the door shut. "We've only got so much heat in here, 'Saint'!"

Whispers and murmurs have sprung up among the patrons.

"What could do this?"
"Anathema?" One of the patrons suggested.
"Ghosts? Fire hurts them, right? Could be a prelude to an invasion."
"Is the Warden angry?"
"Could a sorcerer do this?"

"What about a dragon-blood?" The barmaid that had been flirting with Marius glances at Reflection. "Could a fire-aspect do something like this?"

[WarDragon]

"Everyone stay calm! Stumbling about and making wild guesses won't help!" Brandr's voice cuts through the darkness. "If you don't have good reason to move, stay where you are. You're less likely to get hurt that way. As to what did it... an Exalted could have snuffed one fire, but the whole street at once? I doubt it."

He starts moving through the crowd, keen senses and preternatural grace helping him avoid collisions. "I'm going to talk to Whispers. Nobody kill each other until I get back." The last is mostly directed at Butcher.

[DrakeRaids]

"I'm an Earth aspect. Idiot."

Reflection shifted, she didn't like new situation. Was this related to the theft? Possibly. Malfeas Below all she wanted was one night off to enjoy her sake and relax? "Yeah. This is probably some sorcerer or alchemist had an accident or something. Everyone just... stay where you are. I'm going to see whats going on outside." She hefted her maul over her shoulder and gave the assembled mortals a wry smile, it couldn't be seen in the dark but it still bled through her tone, confident and in control. "Ten Thousand Dragons circle the world. And you've got a personal one tonight. I won't let anything get out of hand. Trust me. Just don't do anything rash." And with that she turned and began to head out of the sake-den, seeing what the city looked like outside. Was it localized to here or...?