Sagas of Wayward Suns - Arc 1

Ferat:

"Nobody here is dumb enough to provoke her. She's tackled Realm lancers clean off their Marukani war horses."

A soft "wuf" emanated from below the table, which sounded almost like laughter at a fond memory.

"Shalla will have your back like any good warrior. She sees us as her pack."
 
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Red Snow

Her and me both.

The horrible liquor takes the edge off, just a little, and she starts to relax. She leans back in the chair, arms behind her head.

"Arrow from a horse is effective, yeah, but where's the satisfaction? At least run the bastard down, get a speartip in."
 
The public house is one of the more popular this side of Hetman's Hill*, Migz's Digs. It actually means something in the local dialect, but you'll get fifteen slurred answers from five different patrons at any one time. It's just a few doors down the first lane from the Southern Gate where you all arrived just weeks ago. Large stables and warehouses line the street, many, many souls from the southern road come here for a bit of food and drink after their journey.

The door opens with a lovely, if scarred, woman walking in, dabbing her forehead with the hem of her thick wolf's cloak. Outside is fairly hot for the season, air rich with the smell of sunburnt stone and city-stink. Long black hair in a braid cast over her left shoulder, a rare olive tint to her skin. She's approaching the bar when she stops, surprised, seeing the lot of you around a table.

"Barman, some wine, please." Her rich, oddly deep voice calls. "Blackberry, if you have it." She's making her way to the table.


The Governor's Block Hill.

@Hair, @Ragoza, and @FuzzMonster may roll Intelligence + Lore, diff. 2 OR Wits + Occult, diff. 3 to recognize this lass. Northerners only.
 
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Red Snow


Red cocks an eyebrow at the newcomer. Western Icewalker, making an educated guess from her clothes and accent, but that's all she can pick up. It's clear the woman recognizes the circle, and there's no way that's a good thing. Red lets herself sink further into the chair, outwardly relaxed and inwardly prepared to summon Wolf's Hunger.
 
Resonant Hammer's Descent

Hammer's face whitens as the stranger looks at the table. He swallows hard, then smiles, coursing some essence through his Caste mark.



"Icewalker Samea. A surprise, to be sure, but a welcome one?"
 
@Hair

She breaks into an uncommonly warm smile, "Hello there!" She's still shorter than you with you sitting. "Good gods, they feed you well." There is something magnetic in her manner. An almost irresistible twinkle in her eyes. "I can't believe the rumors are true. My dear cousins..." She gently pulls her floor length braid around her right shoulder and settles into a fine commoner's stance with a giant yawn, lackadaisical in every manner of the word. "Honestly, after the past few years, I wasn't sure the rumors of...our return? were true."

@Ragoza @Sarky @FuzzMonster @Chaka @Excession

She finally throws a look at the rest of you. "I trust the rest of you are the Suns of Zala?"
 
Ferat:

"Haven't heard that title. It fits, I suppose. Ferat."

He nodded, eyes wary. He was a stranger here.
 
Red Snow

Samea..where have I heard that name befo-SHIT.

Red sits up, holds out a hand.

"The Bull of the North, at your service."
 
Iskandr

"I am First Snow, and it's a pleasure."

He leans over and throws an arm around Red's shoulder.

"I and my companion, the Bull of the North, would love to hear your tale."
 
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@Sarky

She smiles earnestly, gives a sly wink, even as her eyes click to Red with a momentary glimpse of something mountainous there.

@Ragoza

Ever seen a smile turn to ice from the eyes to the lips only to, like, reformat into something warm and human in the literal blink of an eye? There's one.

"Charmed."
 
Resonant Hammer's Descent

Hammer places his hand over Red's entire face and pushes her backwards off the chair. He rises, "Resonant Hammer's Descent, pleasure. Let me get you a chair, oh, there's one here."
 
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Gentle River

River isn't a local, but he's a fast study. He bolts upright and bows, slapping Red's hand down in a smooth, fluid motion as he does so. "Greetings and welcome, Icewalker Samea. I am Gentle River, and we are the Suns of Zala in truth. Be welcome in peace and ancient friendship."

He treats her to a broad, winning smile as Hammer fetches a chair. "To be honest, we should have expected a visit given recent events. Please be welcome, and excuse Red's sense of humour. She's always making jokes, isn't that right Red?"
 
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Red Snow

Might've deserved that. Still worth it.

She hops up and gives Samea an Icewalker salute, fist over heart.

"Failte, a chara. Suígh síos." She gestures to the chair before grabbing her tankard.
 
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Ferat:

Well, that exchange cleared things up considerably. An ally of the Bull, Yurgen Kaneko himself. He'd heard stories. He'd been a Realm subject for some of them. This would be interesting.

"What brings you here? I doubt you and yours need help with much."
 
@Ragoza @Hair

"Delighted." She grabs a chair, revealing the carefully bound stump of her right arm with little shame. The rest of the pub gets back to drinking and eating after the great act of Giant and the Wolf, Tumblers, is over.

@Sarky @FuzzMonster @Excession @Chaka (and Hammer and Red)

The cloak falls away onto the chair revealing the shockingly simple clothing she yet wears. Reminders of her past, and present, as a great shaman. More or less a bolt of roughspun cloth with an embroidered collar and cinched with an iron-plated girdle. She is an unabashed network of scars, burns, and some strange looking glyphic tattoos. The barman skitters over with a dusty bottle and uncorks it for her, pouring into a simple clay mug. "Ma'am."

It's a little surprising, perhaps, to see that the room really does know who she is. They're also studiously avoiding looking at her.

There is one thing: there's subtle, there-and-not-there whiff of rot or blood in the air every so often. Like someone may have passed some horrendous gas or something. There, and then absent.

"I come wanting to see new faces. It's been...years since we've seen anyone like ourselves. We thought the rumors were some insane work of the Immaculates to draw us out. The Pneumatic brotherhoods have been trying for our heads for three years."
 
Gentle River

River nods. "Until we met in Zala, I had never met anything like me. I didn't even know what I was. I understand. It's... it's nice to meet another. Especially one who stood with Yurgen Kaneko himself against the Tepet legions. In these times, we must be friends to one another."
 
RADIANT SHINE

Shine has been silent; accepting his gift with a rare smile before letting the banter wash over him, savouring the scent of his wine, idly offering Shalla a scratch behind the ear if her under-table shuffling presents an opportunity.
The arrival of this Samea, he greets with idle curiosity. Indeed, his expression remains one of benevolent confusion even as his Circle-mates tense.
Her coming to the table is met only with a polite incline of the head and equally polite attention.

He is not in the habit of interruption, and the obvious deference the others leads him to suspect speaking when spoken to is wisest.
 
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Ferat:

"This face is many things, but far from new."

He paused, wrinkled his nose. That smell... Shalla sat bolt upright, ears pricked, nose in the air, sniffing. Ferat absent mindedly patted her on the back.

"Mmm," he grunted in agreement with River, "Gods know there's enough out there wants us all dead."
 
Iskandr

The joke having been played to the end, Iskandr smiles and nods once in his chair...and wrinkles his nose.

Icewalkers don't usually stink of death and corpse taint. Red's pretty clean. May be some kind of sorcerous essence, which means she likely brought some danger with her unseen. No way to know what it is.


Iskandr resolves to wait patiently and be alert for whatever disaster is coming. He'll speak should he be addressed.
 
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