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( introlog #5 ) strangerer things
You have spent the last few days on Thesa Station, taking in the knowledge that your world is no more. Perhaps you've made some friends (or maybe an enemy or two). Either way, you aren't expected to spend all of your time on the Station. El Nysa needs you, after all, and you promised you'd help the planet thrive. Are you ready?
Submit an AC-eligible thread with a new character as a participant for 2 OLYMPIA REP POINTS OR 2 WYVER REP POINTS, respectively, HERE or HERE. THESA STATION
All refugees on the station are called to the hangar where a large-scale teleporter has been set up; everyone will be sent to the planet together. Simply step onto the space between the arrays and wait. Before they depart, all new refugees will be given a starter kit!
You may have heard about earlier technical difficulties, but don't worry. I promise everything is in perfect working order this time. I'd say I tested it myself, but since that's not exactly possible, you'll just have to trust me! (Please.) The older refugees will also be there to guide you to ensure no one is left confused... or behind. Make sure you wait for them — I've been detecting something odd so I'll be having them meet you at the landing site. Good luck, refugees! Not that you'll be needing it or anything... The arrays begin to hum and glow, quickly building into a brilliant wash of light. It creates a column that travels all the way from Thesa Station to the surface of El Nysa. With the night sky as a canvas, the beam can be seen all the way from Olympia and Wyver — a view that has the natives whispering of blessings. As a sudden but beautiful aurora splays across the sky, the refugees down on the planet receive a message asking them to travel to the landing site — and warning them to prepare for what may come of the strange readings Zasere's gotten from the teleport itself. ON A BEAM OF LIGHT ![]()
Traveling through the light leaves the impression of blinding starlight, a strange sense of weightlessness, and a disorienting moment of total sensory deprivation. The radiance of your teleport hangs bright in the sky above you, a shimmering aurora that reflects off the calm waters below, visible for miles all around.
You've landed on a peninsula to the east of the South Outpost. There's little here — scattered trees on spring-barren plains, with a few overgrown, dilapidated structures poking out of the brush. All is quiet save for the keening of animals and the gentle lapping of waves against the shore. This lonely desolation is hardly the bustling cities and vibrant cultures you were promised back on the station... BY CAMPFIRE'S GLOW. But waiting for you is a group of your predecessors, and with them, a veritable tent city, with portable stoves, coolers of food and drink, comfortable bedrolls, and cheerful rings of bonfires — all that you need to make merry of the night, courtesy of Overseer Voss, who has, thanks to his interest in blessed meteorological phenomena and refugees, decided to make a holy expedition of the affair. CLOSE ENCOUNTERS ![]()
Despite going off without hitch, the new refugees' arrival isn't entirely without incident. It seems that the "blessed" beam of light that brought the refugees down to El Nysa brought something else along with it — a sliver of the Storm. At least the beam was short enough that only a small fraction managed to squeeze through.
But it's enough to wreak a little havoc around the landing site and along the road back toward Olympia and Wyver — and even, for a few days, in the cities themselves. THE TRUTH IS OUT THERE. The Storm is an undeniably destructive force, and that's proven with this small sliver's effect as it ripples across the continent. While there's no visible sign of its presence, strange phenomena soon begin to appear, corresponding with Zasere's odd readings. DECISIONS, DECISIONS... ![]()
The time is coming to make a choice — perhaps not a permanent choice, but unless you want to spend the rest of your nights out under the stars, you'll need to pick which city you will initially spend your time in. On the horizon, you will see that people have arrived to help you make that decision...
A FORK IN THE ROAD. Refugees and the hyper-religious wishing to hear Voss speak are not the only ones out and about under the light of the aurora. Citizens of both Olympia and Wyver have flocked to a point on the road midway between the cities and where the refugees have appeared, and they all have the same goal in mind: convincing the newcomers who have just descended in the blessed light of Thesa to come to their city and not the other.You've chosen your path, refugee, but that doesn't necessarily make it a permanent one. Watch out for the strange effects of the Storm, which linger still in the two cities and everywhere in between for the next few days before dissipating just as mysteriously as they came, but otherwise enjoy the welcome and make yourself at home — after all, this is home now. FINAL OOC NOTES
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[She has known a few people who could shout without shouting. None of them were so cheerful about it.
Hail bounces off of stones and the top of the tent, clicking away all around them.]
From the fervor with which he searched for you, I must say I am shocked not to find him at your side.
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But as much as I know he'd rather be by my side, we both have duties we have to attend to. He knows that as well as I. We'll meet up again shortly, and I'm sure he's having lots of fun meeting everyone.
I can only hope everyone's having just as much fun meeting him. [Mipha laughs lightly and returns her attention to Krile.] Forgive me, I've been terribly rude. You know my name, but I haven't yet asked for yours'. Will you tell me?
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[Were she standing, she would curtsy. All she can do from the chair is smile and nod where a bow or something would go.]
A pleasure to make your acquaintance. [Which she doesn't tend to tell people for whom it is not a pleasure.] Are you an established presence in...this world? Such that you would know whether instances of odd climate are commonplace, I mean.
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[And at the question she nods] I was among the first to come down to the planet, and i can assure you this kind of weather isn't normal. [Given the weird fog over Olympia not too long ago, it definitely is making her a little wary too.]
Hopefully it's nothing to really worry about, but I'm sure we'll all keep an eye on it. Though I'm not sure what exactly is to be done against the weather if it does turn out to be something strange... You can't exactly fight a storm, but... I suppose some terribly complicated ritual would have to be involved. [Mipha smiles faintly.] Such is how things always go.
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[Does Krile look worried? She feels worried.]
I'm not sure whether to hope it is or is not like the sort of thing you would find in Eorzea. The rituals there summon false gods, though they've all the power of the regular sort, compared to what people are capable of in return.
[Mipha, in fact, looks like exactly the sort of person whose tribe or clan or whatever would summon their god.]
Short of finding real shelter, I can't see many options for defeating the weather outright, in any case.
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[And then ,dryly, as if in answer to her own question:] Power?
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[And a little bit of personal experience.]
To eliminate a threat, put an end to a battle, conclude wars. To defend their lost children. [Krile tilts her head a bit.] Is that not what your people would want from your gods?
[It is what Eorzeans want from the Twelve - to know that they are listening. That prayers can be answered.]
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But I haven't heard of anyone who'd want the goddess to directly interfere with anything... [The differences are interesting, but Mipha can't think of any instance of anyone wanting to try calling down the goddess herself to take care of problems for them or even smiting Ganon herself. That was always left up to Zelda's bloodline and friends.]
I suppose... It helps that my world didn't have to face things like wars, not anymore. There was only one threat, and we were all united to face it down at any moment.
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...No. A separate, equally powerful mother deity makes nothing but sense, then. Krile nods at last.]
Conflict is rather the order of the day for Hydaelyn, much as we would prefer almost anything else. Times of relative peace are, more likely, the precursor to the next confrontation. Rarely does it turn to all-out war, but the toll it all takes upon the land is sobering to measure.