[OPEN] FROM RIFTWATCH WITH LOVE: PART ONE

[unshut]

WHO: Everyone and anyone
WHAT: An abomination redecorates the Gallows.
WHEN: Early August
WHERE: The Gallows
NOTES: Part One of FROM RIFTWATCH WITH LOVE. Will include some violence, some general chaos, and some light murderin'.

There is a man in a worn traveling cloak. He is dark haired, with sharp features dominated by a dark horizontal scar near his hairline, and later someone will describe him as having been soft spoken when he asked for directions.

But something in the Gallows' dining hall, with its unreliable population for the midday meal, must catch under his skin; he's found his voice again by the time he steps up onto one of the benches.

"Is this all of you?"

Someone nearby tells him to get his boots off the furniture, so the man climbs higher onto the table and is louder the second time: "Is this really all you are? A few people in a tower on an island?"

Heads are coming up. As his voice rises, he produces an envelope from his pocket.

"Do you think this is funny? Playing at being something, and telling people you can make a difference to them? You were supposed to be helping, but you're all just sitting here! Don't touch me"—to someone encouraging him to get off the fucking table—"You were meant to be helping us. You promised you would, and I told her I believed you!"

Hands are reaching for him. No, really, get off the table. You can explain what's wrong once you're down; you're with friends— The man jerks his arm free, snarling, "Don't touch me! You're nothing!" A stronger hand finds him then and begins pulling him struggling down. With a wrenched cry of, "Livia!" the man slips from the table.

A column of fire pours upward out of him like molten heat from a crack in the earth. It bursts so high that it scorches a circle on the dining hall ceiling, and burns so suddenly hot that it sends those nearest to him recoiling backward as their clothes catch. The fire licks again in random directions, in chaotic fits and starts of light and heat, and the thing that rises up again in the mage's place isn't really a man at all.

The rage abomination will ravage its way through the dining hall and prodigious Gallows kitchens, then out into the courtyard beyond leaving considerable destruction in its wake until finally brought down by Leander. In the charred aftermath, the following can be recovered from among the mage's belongings: a leather corded bracelet with a green bead woven in it (too small for anything but the smallest wrist), a functioning phylactery, and a letter from "Riftwatch" which implies a history of correspondence and familiarly refers to the recipient by name, 'Felix.' An investigation of Riftwatch's files will reveal the log of having received a message from a similar Felix, No Lastname six months earlier. The message itself is nowhere to be found among the Gallows records.

The recovered letter assures Felix that all will be well, and includes instructions to wait in the woods above the crossroads of a small Wildervale village.

'Help will be on its way. Good luck, and safe travels.'

Comments

[bouchonne]

He focuses at the sound of her voice. His gaze comes up, and his eyes meet hers, and he presses her hand in answer.

"My dear," he says, his voice soft in a way that only she gets to hear. "How good it is that we have you."

[indissection]

"It is good that you have me. I'm far less concerned about the rest of this rabble."

It's said snappily, but not with much meaning. They're both well aware of just how much Sidony cares for her job and her position, and it certainly does not come second to her marriage. All the same, she moves closer, leaning up to kiss his forehead.

Oh, she does love him, even if it is not the kind of love others might expect from their match.

"Is there anything I can tend to? Don't lie to me, now."

[bouchonne]

He laughs - softly, but fondly - in response to her irritable dismissal of the others. Yes; he does love her.

"I've suffered a burn or two," he says, keeping his voice casual enough. "Can you help with that?"

[indissection]

It's the kind of boldness she would never allow around anyone else; she can be catty, true, but her true irritation is saved for him and few others. Perhaps that is one of the perks of being her spouse.

"Oh, just a burn or two?" It's just on the edge of being sarcastic as she reaches for her bag, tugging out some bandages and paste. "Of course. Show me."

[bouchonne]

He slowly holds out his arm. It is burned - a bit nastily; it's nothing life-threatening, but it's painfully blistered, and there's one tiny spot where the skin is actually charred. It clearly hurts badly, from the way he can't suppress his wince as he holds it out to her.

"This is the worst of it," he says; he tries to sound casual, but there's a strain in his voice.

[indissection]

"Well, if this is the worst."

There's only a hint of sarcasm. It doesn't take much to dig out a little bit of paste from her bag, wiggling closer as she begins to very gently apply it to his burns.

"What am I to do with you?"