nysalogs | ❪ event ❫ harvest valley

❪ event ❫ harvest valley

THE GREAT HARVEST

While change is inevitable and those on El Nysa have always been adaptable, it’s clear that some things do not change. Citizens in both cities have began finding ways to return to a sense of normalcy, and most have done this by partaking in seasonal traditions and celebrations.

With the heat of the previous months finally simmering down, the cooler air signifies the passing of the summer and the start of the great harvest. Though many crops were destroyed in the battle that preceded this event, those that have survived seem to have grown healthier in light of their hardships, and many believe this to be an unspoken blessing.

In Wyver, festivities begin earlier in the month. Copious amounts of food are prepared from the first, and refugees will find that the people of Wyver are always hungry. The daily contests of strength are easily turned into contests of appetite. Not partaking, like many things in Wyver, can be taken as a sign of weakness. Losers will find themselves expected to do the bidding of those who win one of these contests. But it's all in good fun, right?

Outside of contests, Wyver is keen on creating a festival-like atmosphere. Throughout the month there will be multiple food stalls open featuring food made from the harvest and game available to the city. Due to its popularity, many of the stalls will feature Shanrian’s favorite meat jellies. Refugees will be encouraged to assist in preparing delicacies for the stalls and will be rewarded for their efforts by being given specialty ingredients. When consumed, these foods can heighten one's senses for a period of time, so they're perfect to eat before heading on a quest or hunt.

I. With their emphasis on cooking enormous portions of food and gorging themselves for days, it should come to no surprise that a lot of the age-old Wyvern traditions revolve around the act of eating. Particularly, of dining beside their scalier brethren. It isn’t uncommon to see the people of Wyver feed from the claws of dragons, or to mimic the act of a dragon eating on all fours— often sharing the same game (not always cooked either!). The trick to this is knowing how hungry the dragon is and finding the appropriate timing to take a bite without offending the creature. Some dragons are known to be a little more disciplined in this regard, while others are loose cannons. It’s important to be able to gauge this, and the people of Wyver are more than delighted to teach the refugees the tricks of the trade! The bigger question is... does everyone have the stomach for this?

II. Maybe from all the eating they do and all the grooming, the dragons tend to avoid people during this time of the year, but some also start to look like they need a bit of help. During this time, native Wyvers use their free time after the steady and grueling days of harvest to maintain and care for the dragons. They help wash them up, take a look at their claws, and even pull some decayed teeth. However, precisely because this is such a tedious process, there's always a need for a helping hand or two to get the job done. It shouldn’t come as a surprise that Wyverns are extra keen to grab a refugee or two for the job. They say pulling teeth is easy, the trick is simple after all! Don’t get bitten and don’t let the smell get to you!

Seriously though, they advise that the work goes more smoothly in pairs. One person is typically in charge of making sure the dragon’s mouth remains open, while the other does the actual dirty work. While experts can mix this dynamic up a bit, or even work between those roles, it helps to have a starting point at least!

III. These months are crucial to the people of Wyver as many of their dragons lay eggs in the later half of winter. In preparation, they believe now to be the most essential time for establishing bonds and building on pre-existing relationships, either between one another, or with the dragons. As they are a people who are proud of strength, Wyverns often display this in every aspect of their lives, including their blood exchange ritual. During this process, they will physically show the closeness between themselves and their companions by using a ceremonial knife to cut into their flesh. The wound they make on one another is meant to act as a symbol of the impact they have in each other’s lives. They are then meant to smear the blood of the individual they cut and mark some part of their body with it. Due to utilizing the specially crafted ceremonial blade, this streak of blood will stick to their skins for the duration of the month— a constant reminder of the bond they’ve formed. There are some variations to this, and there are no rules to how deep the incision must be… some Wyverns are known to take this a little too far, and so this ritual is certainly not for the faint of heart.

In Olympia, the celebrations will begin a little later than they do in Wyver. The focus in Olympia seems to be their fruit liquor. Considering their newfound interest in “Thesaens,” it’s no surprise that refugees will find themselves target #1 for trying these various flavors. Additionally, as this act of liquor-making is often experimental, those brave enough to try it will find that the vintages' tastes and their effects will vary in extremes. As these fruits are produced from a vine with magical properties, it won’t be unusual to discover oneself overtaken by a series of strange inclinations that typically amplify whatever positive emotions the drinker is feeling. If they're feeling open and friendly, for example, they'll find themselves oddly handsy and affectionate. If they're feeling inquisitive, they may find themselves oddly invested or overly fixated on something— maybe it's that stray hair on that stranger's face or their unusual eyebrows?

But, while the city is full of life and action, this is also a period of time that Olympians celebrate some of their oldest myths. According to their ancestors, this season marks the time of reunion and connection with those who have passed on. It’s said to correlate with the appearance of the constellations that best fit their most notable heroes. For Olympia, this is a time of coming together as a community and displaying a sense of gratitude for the harvest and the people of the city who make it all possible.

I. One staple of the season is wine sharing. A form of showing closeness and intimacy with ones’ companions, people often will share a drink together, though, not exactly in an orthodox way. As an icebreaker for joining in a number of gatherings (especially those near temples), people are often seen transferring beverages mouth-to-mouth. The act of swallowing shared wine is meant to display acceptance and tolerance. Even rivals and old foes occasionally partake in this ritual to show mutual respect for one another. Declining can be seen as offensive, however with everyone swiftly becoming intoxicated, it may be easy for the more reserved individuals to bluff their way out of this.

II. Food isn’t the only thing harvested during the season. The special magical vines that thrive during this period of time can be utilized as a material for weaving protective accessories. These accessories are traded between friends and lovers all throughout the month. They have a small energizing effect and will permit the wearer to exhibit a little more strength than they normally exhibit. The only catch is that the accessories must be tied on by someone else and be kept for at least a week. When the wearer feels the effects fading, the vines must also be removed by the same person who tied them on. If anyone wears the accessories past this period of time, they will find that they often feel restless and be prone to experiencing sleep paralysis and night terrors. Some Olympians claim that during that state, you can sometimes hear the voices of loved ones from beyond the grave. But, that’s probably just an old wives' tale...

THE (IM)POSSIBLE MAZE

Midway between the cities, a vast maze of corn has been erected. Its purpose is twofold — to demonstrate a camaraderie between Olympia and Wyver and to be harvested by each side at the end of the celebrations. Both the Olympians and the Wyverns agree that the first maze of this kind was created in recognition of a treaty from long ago — decades ago, when the treaty was first signed, representatives from each city went into the maze together to demonstrate that they could work in tandem, but instead of emerging victorious, dead Wyverns were found on the Olympian side of the maze, and dead Olympians were found on the Wyvern side of the maze. Depending on who you ask, the specifics of this slaughter vary — some claim that those found dead were killed in self-defense, while others insist it was merely a misunderstanding, and others tout the theory that the truce was deliberately sabotaged.

What the people can agree upon now, however, is that with the Thesaens among them, perhaps they can try it again and bring in a bountiful harvest together. Locals are charged silver to enter the maze, but refugees are allowed in for free to experience the tradition for themselves.

I. The maze itself is long and winding, with overgrown stalks that block out most of the sky. It is, the promoters insist, not an easy trial to overcome. Those who enter the maze are given sparklers to signal their position for extraction should they become hopelessly lost — but if you manage to make it through the maze, the sparklers can be surrendered to those waiting on the other side for a modest sum of 30 silver each. Team up with someone to make it through… and don’t get lost!

II. While this is a time for celebration, there are always some hooligans who don’t quite get into the spirit of things — or who, perhaps, get too much into the spirit of things. Unofficially, some of the locals have taken it upon themselves to sneak into the maze in costume and chase the participants through it. The motivations behind this vary — some are in it for a laugh, some insist that they’re doing it to help strengthen the bonds between the people they chase, and some claim that they’re doing it to prove a point: that the Olympians and Wyverns will turn on each other at the first sign of adversity, and they will even draw blood to show it. Will you make it through the maze despite these unexpected setbacks? Or perhaps this sort of mischievous thing is right up your alley…?

III. Of course — and unfortunately — there are also those who get in over their heads. Midway through the festivities, on both sides, parents begin to notice that their children have gone missing… and that there are some decidedly child-like screams coming from the maze. It seems the kids have decided to sneak into the maze themselves and now require some rescuing — luckily, there are plenty of Thesaens around to lend a hand.

FINAL OOC NOTES

As a reminder, REP will now primarily be given for completed QUESTS that are available throughout the month, and will not be offered through this event log.

Additionally, as stated in the monthly outline, Nadril will still need the assistance of the refugees and there will be an IC call to action for that later in the month.

Then as a final note, our Test Drive Meme will be up on October 24th! Thank you!

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Oh psssh this isn't about card stuff. [He leans over a little further and just kind of pinches the end of her ear- gently, but it's still a fucking ear pinch.]

Did you know you have really cute ears? They're like a bat's.

[and then he giggles, like this realization is the funniest thing ever.

yeah, he's more than a little fucked up.]

[If he weren't also pinching her ear at the moment, she may be able to shrug this off and ignore the odd compliment, because he's... obviously drunk. But as it stands, Nott jerks her arm into his, trying to knock his fingers away from her ear.]

Okay, alright, you're drunk and ridiculous, don't touch my ears.

[She quickly takes another drink of her flask, further undermining her silent vow to be responsible for him.]

You know, you have a tail. That's pretty funny.

[Molly's giggles intensify.] Okay, okay. That's fair.

[He briefly faceplants into his makeshift table and then peers up again, turning his head slightly to look at his tail.] So I do. Y'know what's really unfair? [He leans forward even further gesturing her even closer like he's about to tell her some big secret.] It's not prehensile. You think it would be. D'you know how neat it would be to just be able to hold things with it.

[Nott nods solemnly.]

No, that's probably for the best. Imagine you hanging from a tree from your tail. That's just unnatural.

[She looks him over, eyes suspicious.]

Did you really call me over just to gawk at my ears?

Oh psssh. [He puffs out his cheeks and exhales, blowing that one s-curl bang slightly out of his face.] Gods no. That's just ridiculous. I was thinking like... Holding my ale while I juggled or- or something.

[wait what did he call her over here for. he is so genuinely and comically confused by this.] I just... You know, you're adorable. You have so much potential, and- and... oof.

[Annnd he faceplants again. And then reaches over and tries to go for her ears again without looking up. They're so bat-like and cute!!!]

Maybe you can just ask the Natha for a third hand.

[She winces when his face plummets into the wood again. Gods. Is she like this when she's this drunk?

She doesn't particularly want to humor the way he's steering this conversation, but she doesn't bat his hands away from her ears a second time, simply allowing it in defeat. There's no point reasoning with a drunk tiefling.]

What do you mean potential?

[Yessssss. He's petting the ears. This is so nice... No, what it is is awkward, but you'd think he was petting Frumpkin.]

To be a really decentish person... decenter? Decentish. Fuck. [He huffs, briefly losing his train of thought.] You're so nice. People don't give you enough credit for being nice. You're blunt and nosy, but you try to give everyone a chance. [She has a bunch of flaws (so does everyone), but fuck it. Right now, he feels like being complimentary. Except for the blunt and nosy thing, apparently. He has to maintain some casual Molly tactlessness.]

[Nott quiets, ignoring the ear petting with only a small grumble. This isn't quite where she expected this conversation to go. She's not sure what she expected, but with all the talk of her being cute and everything she was prepared to graciously ignore compliments on her appearance.

But no. It's her personality that's being brought up, here.]

I mean... I do my best. I think I'm pretty alright. I don't really care what people think about me, but...

[She can't afford to. Her goblinoid features and traits skew any perception of her as a person, and besides, half the time she's trying to hide who she is.

No, the only people that matter to her are the Mighty Nein, or the Fighty Five, or whatever they're being called now. And a few outliers, here and there.]

Nor should you, because people have shit opinions and... and... [Yeah, he's got nothing. Not because this isn't a topic he can't wax poetic on for days- people and their base assumptions and the way they act when they see someone different just proves they're shit. Molly knows if he saw a goblin on the street who was just minding their business, he wouldn't dropkick them, and that's not because he knows Nott. That's just fucking decency.

He is way too intoxicated for those kind of deep thoughts, however. What he isn't too intoxicated for is bad decisions. He sits up abruptly, as if possessed.]

We should do something. We should do something right now.

[Well, Nott wouldn't take it that far. She doesn't care what people thinks because she doesn't blame them one bit—she's seen firsthand the cruelty of people like her, and she's certain, were she born a halfling of society, she'd rather not a goblin wander into her town either.

Nott is lost in thought as Molly gets all existential drunk on her, which means she lets out a small yelp of surprise when he suddenly sits up.]

What? What? What are we doing?

[The vagueness worries her. Mollymauk combined with extra spontaneity is a recipe for disaster.]

I have no idea, but I'll know it when I see it. [Always a good thing to hear an extremely intoxicated disaster of a tiefling say with that much delight. He swipes his cards into his pocket and abandons his little makeshift table to start walking in a direction with teetering steps.]

C'mon, Nott. It'll be fine. It's a festival. Nothing bad happens at festivals that we didn't invite on ourselves. [He might still be a little sore about getting trampled during the Victory Pit, but... They also won a buttload of money so he can't complain.]

Wasn't there a festival going on when that tower came down in the Tri-Spire?

[But that's her only withering complaint as she trots after Molly, moving her hands to hover near him as if she expects to catch him should he drunkenly topple over.

She has no idea what would possibly catch his eye first like this. Molly is notoriously outrageous at festivals and parties, and as they pass stalls featuring games and strong-smelling foods, her mind also wanders to the Victory Pit and how that had been the worst and yet most lucrative impulse the group had ever taken.]

No, that was a ball for rich people, and bad things happen to people who act like they're so amazing because they have money. [Though, she's kind of right, and maybe sober Molly would argue semantics, but drunk-off-his-ass and hunting for his next high Molly is just amused she'd mistake the two, while also showing his classist ass.

Fortunately, he doesn't follow his nose down towards the Red Light district where he has actually gotten drugs before. That's an old high. That's to be banked for later when life disappoints him. It's new high time, and situations like this are ripe with people trying to sell something.

He pauses in the middle of a thoroughfare, squinting unfocused eyes as he hunts, completely missing the old woman running a stall out of a shadowed bit of alley- well calling it a stall is an overstatement. It's about as much a stall as Molly's crate was a table. She seems to have noticed Nott for no reason other than she's barely two feet taller than she is.

"You look like an adventurous little thing," she says, sounding kindly and grandmotherly. This is fine and not sketchy at all. "Come, come. Let me show you something."

[Nott doesn't know enough about balls to know the difference, and frankly, they're similar enough to have her on edge regardless. She just shrugs and continues to follow, and then stops when he stops.

She notices the old woman first because she's just paranoid enough to pick out the creepiest part of a crowd instantly.]

Uh, no thank you. He's the adventurous one.

[And Nott, absolutely failing to protect her drunk friend in such a spectacular way that this moment will be written about in colleges of lore for generations to come, gives Molly a good shove towards the old woman.]

Unless you've got meat pie, in which case I'm also adventurous.

[Molly is so pliable right now, you could probably push him in front of an oncoming train and he'd wonder what those pretty lights are. This is probably only slightly dangerous, especially considering he's already on the edge. He blinks down at her steadily with wide, glassy eyes.

"I suppose I could make these with meat pies, but I can't say much for the taste." She scratches at the few stray hairs in her chin, looking between Nott and Molly before turning back to her stand and producing what appear to be little slabs of some sort of chocolate with different colored fruits embedded throughout. "I call these Thesa's Delight. They're made with a variety of fruits taken throughout the land. Guaranteed to give you good dreams even when you're wide awake."

Molly's eyes somehow get wider and he shakes Nott's shoulder.] Brilliant. We'll take two.

Two?

[She's caught on, now. Dreaming while you're awake is just hallucinating. Nott generally isn't one to turn down eating something, but...

Well, if she's going to watch a drunk Molly, she's going to need to not be on drugs while she does it. Thinks the goblin currently drinking alcohol while watching a drunk Molly.

And the alternative is that Molly ends up with two of them himself, which is... worse.]

Well. I hope you know I'm saving mine for later. Someone has to make sure you don't wander into an open fire.

[Molly gives her "we'll see about that" look as trots off, having paid the woman and now holding a brownie in each hand. He's still swaying a bit, but he seems to be trying to play it off as a off-kilter sashay as works his way to a bench to sit down.]

Are you absolutely sure you don't want it right now? [He wafts the brownie under her nose with one hand while he starts eating his like a greedy toddler.]

[Nott jerks her face away from the second brownie, but then moves to snatch it from his hand before he starts getting carried away. She can see how he's scarfing his, and she doesn't want that to become a rapid pattern.]

If you're going to be ridiculously drunk and tripping balls at the same time, you're going to be incredibly easy to steal from. Or kidnap. Or trample in the street while you're drooling in the gutter.

If anyone kidnapped me, you know damn well they'd bring me back. [He licks chocolate off his fingers with a smug grin.] I'll give you the rest, though. Guess you're stuck making sure I don't do anything crazy.

[He doesn't feel like he needs it, but he hasn't had his nasty trip with Ren yet. For all intents and purposes, at least this kind of drug appears to be more relaxing. The alcohol made him handsy and curious and affectionate, but this just appears to be a more mild version of the skein. None of the weird side effects, but all of the shifting colors and weird shapes and warped perception.

It's after a moment of Molly just leaning against the bench and spacing out that he suddenly shakes her shoulder and points to an unlit lamp across the way.]

Hey, Nott. Did you know the lamps here can dance? [He breaks into an excited giggle.]

[Nott just sighs and tucks her share into her component pouch. It'll fit right in with the stale croissants she keeps in there.

Molly then takes the time to quietly enjoy his trip for a bit. It's not so bad, really. He could be getting into a lot more trouble than he is right now. Just staring into space with a dazed smile and intermittent, sleepy giggles is pretty harmless.

Nott's caught leaning her head against Molly's shoulder when he suddenly shakes her out of her own, (comparatively) sober version of daydreaming. She blinks a bit dumbfoundedly between him and the lamp he's pointing at, then kind of smirks.]

Maybe you should go see if it knows any moves you do.

Edited 2018-11-13 20:40 (UTC)

That's a brilliant idea.

[Whether or not Sober Molly would find this as irresistible as Stoned Molly is a non-issue. He will not regret a second of this when he's hungover and reeling tomorrow except for the hungover and vomit-y bits. Those are always regrettable.

He bounds to his feet like an excited puppy and approaches the lamp, doing a grandiose bow to it like it were a person he was cutting in on. Some sort of elaborate fantasy is playing out here and Molly's gone all into it, swaying in time to some imaginary music until he eventually grabs a hold of the lamppost and swings around it a few times in dizzying circles so that when he's back on his feet, he's disoriented and steps sideways into a very confused lamplighter who has no idea what's happening.]

You should be proud. Fantastic dancer. I have never before been graced with such a wonderful partner in all my years as a fine participant of-of ballroom activity. [He staggers back with another delighted giggle, blows a kiss with both hands and all but falls back onto the bench.]

The movements were on point, but the conversation was a little stale. Too much politics.

[It is absolutely impossible to tell if he's being sarcastic or if he did just imagine a hypothetical conversation with a lamppost about politics.]

[Nott instantaneously starts giggling into her hand when Molly wanders over to the lamp and starts treating it like a blushing dance partner, dizzy and stumbling afterward. She just bursts out in a full, wheezing laugh by the time he ends up throwing himself back onto the bench with that punchline.]

This is exactly [giggle giggle] what I said when Caleb didn't want to join you guys!

[Nott takes another quick shot of whiskey, making sure she doesn't laugh more and spit it back up.]

No one will ever pay attention to us with the tieflings running around disrupting the peace! How do you— How do you do that?

[Molly looks deeply charmed by the fact that Nott's laughing so hard, but that might have something to do with the fact that he seems to be hallucinating her covered in thick green fur like someone merged a goblin with a Persian cat and there's something inherently charming about the image.]

Do what? Be disruptive? It's a talent and an art brought on by, uh, people having expectations and- and certain prejudices and me just not giving a shit what they think. Something like that, then.

No, no. Well, sort of.

[While Molly has intoxicated premonitions of the future, Nott wipes a tear from her eye, giggles dying down to a pleasant smile.]

How do you not give a shit? You're skipping some steps. People... think things, when they look at you, but you make it worse by acting up and you don't care. How?

[She props her chin up with a fist, looking at him curiously, still smiling but there's something vaguely serious in her. Like a philosophizing drunk.]

It's not even like you have nothing to hide.

I don't have anything to hide. I have things that make people think they know what's best for me that I'd prefer they didn't know. [He's two years old. Nothing else matters. The only reason he doesn't like talking about that is because of the immediate kneejerk assumptions and perhaps that would be a little pointed on another day, but he's too stoned to even act like he knows who he's talking to right now.] But fuck all that. Life is too bloody short to not do what you fucking want to do. I want people to see me. I wanna plant my feet on the ground and say, without any shame...

[And here he stands up, dramatically, and sort of shouts as if to make this point clearer... also because he suddenly has no control of his volume.] "Hey, I'm here! I'm gonna keep being here, and you're gonna deal with me as I am, and you may even find yourself enjoying that!"

[And he falls back down onto the bench. The lamplighter has decided he best not question this and hurries down to the next lamp.]

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