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<GMStelas> >> Pre-Intro 1: Delver's Square
<GMStelas> >> It's raining in Ptolus. Hell, it seems like it's /always/ raining in Ptolus. But maybe it's for the best, today: after your everyday argument between two adventurers in Delver's Square escalated sharply into swords and fireballs, the driving sheets of rain are helping to contain and quell the fire that would otherwise threaten more than a couple of the local shops.
<GMStelas> >> It took only took a scant few minutes from the moment the first fireball was thrown for the Square to degenerate into an all-out brawl, but Ptolus doesn't take kindly to mass fights in its largest centre of commerce; a combined assault from the Town Guard, the Sisters of Silence, and a contingent of the Order of Dawn left most of the aggressors either running or else groaning in the gutters.
<GMStelas> >> Several priests, flanked by officers of the Guard, are now doing the rounds - patching up, then officially charging, those most involved in the riot. Brother Fabitor, meanwhile, busies himself with those caught in the crossfire. The Square as a whole is winding down, leading to the awkward quiet that follows an official fracas. All there is to do is stare at the aftermath - a very popular Ptolus pastime, if the packed shopfronts are anything to go by.
<GMStelas> >> anything to go by.
* Iris for the most part, was doing her duty in the gigantic melee in the Square as a church-sanctioned bouncer once the melee was in full swing, mostly grabbing people bodily and hurling them to one side or into the guards to deal with, or jump-kicking opportunistic pickpockets. St. Gustav's is her home, and nobody rumbles outside her home without /some/ interference.
* Iris /now/ mostly follows Brother Fabirot around hidden under her big white Lothian church robes helping people to their feet and otherwise ensuring that nobody tries to pull a fast one on the good man of the cloth, his own personal hooded punchin' bodyguard. Hell, maybe she's seen some of these people rumbling in this very spot before. No big deal, right?
* Airine is a metal-clad presence in Delver's Square, draped in the official colors and outfit of the Order of the Dawn. Her trademark 'lantern'-styled tower shield keeps her profile narrow as she laid the lethal beatdown on anyone she came across, and all with a steel glare on her face. The rain dribbles in bouncing rivulets off her armor plates, her platinum-blonde hair down long due to her hairclasps coming undone in the combat.
* Airine is currently putting the finishing touches on a thug that was trying to join in on the fracas and get a few more coins in to his pocket. Right now, though, he's lying prone on the ground with the bottom frame of Airine's shield shoved down to his neck, emitting choking noises. Her glare is unforgiving. "I will ensure you will not repeat this transgression."
<GMStelas> >> And that's when Brother Fabirot rolls up, escort in tow. "... I rather think that's up to the watch, don't you?" He looks lost as to how to approach the situation for a moment, then sighs under his breath, unpacking another roll of cloth and glancing the man over. "In any case, I can take it from here. Thank you for your help."
* Iris stays behind Brother Fabirot with arms together. That robe has seen better days, clearly worn to death, but well-loved and well-washed at the least. She stays mostly hidden in it, just about able to swim in that thing, goddamn it big. "Wonder what sparked this one." she quips, completely out of place in a somewhat sneaky tone of voice. A tone of voice that infers sneak.
* Airine doesn't budge for a moment, but she snaps her head up from where she had that man pinned down. Her longsword is in her other hand, and it wasn't in a relaxed position. She pulls up for a moment, and then sheathes her sword into a scabbard compartment within the shield's back lining. She stares towards the other two robed monks, and then back at the man. "You are a lucky one," she advises him.
<GMStelas> >> Fabirot nods his thanks as he kneels down, unravelling the long bandage and picking at the man's shirt to lift it away from a lengthy wound. He glances up; one corner of the Minstrel is still smouldering. "Pick your vice of choice, and you're probably right. Hold still," he advises the all-but-unconscious man.
* Iris inclines her head on an angle, regarding the hardass beat-cop paladin with a wary kind of a glance from her vantage point behind a well-respected man of the cloth. Looks human, but shit, not much to go off of there. "Hey, this square's a lucky kind of a place." she says, particularly upbeat in tone. "Less actual fatalities per square meter than any other brawl-prone spot in the city!"
* Airine stares listlessly towards the treatment being healed. Her expression gets tight, for a moment, but she turns around and stares towards the other person who she'd been seeing punching and kicking her way through the entire melee. "That just encourages them to fight more," she states back to Iris.
* Iris sways this way and that, robes swishing on the ground and god damn it now they're kind of muddy and wet and well that's kinda par for course really. She doffs her hood, which still obscures most of her face dramatically because that's how camera angles work. "Well yeah, it's not good! But it makes it real easy to patch 'em up and lock 'em down."
<GMStelas> >> Working on an arm splint, Fabirot shifts his weight to avoid a random and half-delirious punch to the head, and instead tightens the binding perhaps a notch or two too fast. The grunt of resulting pain is quite loud, and Fabirot smiles thinly. "I did say to hold still."
* Iris absent-mindedly plants a booted foot on Fabirot's patient's arm, ensuring that he does not do something like that again. She still faces Airine and shrugs, as if to drive her point home.
* Airine 's eyes are more focused on scanning for additional threats in the field. Her entire stance is, like her expression, locked in tension, still on a mental level of high alert. She is in the battlefield. "I doubt that man will learn."
<GMStelas> >> The Square as a whole is starting to regain a little of the hustle and bustle. For obvious reasons, passersby are carefully skirting the chunk of square currently paying homage to roving groups of the Watch and groaning soon-to-be-criminals, but with a lack of interesting fights to spectate on people are returning to their daily grind.
* Iris does not budge, nor does she really seem to relent in the face of that argument if her tone and body language are anything to go by. "Hey, maybe. But we don't know. Not my place to judge, you know?" she turns her head and calls out to a group of people standing there gawking. "Hey, move it on! Keep moving, c'mon!"
<GMStelas> >> They don't. Of course. After all, the man is grunting and moaning quite a lot as Brother Fabirot resets his arm, and if there's anything the average Ptolus resident loves it's seeing someone who isn't them get some comeuppance.
* Airine falls silent for a while as she watches people start to converge into the square. She shuts her eyes as she whispers something to herself, and then opens them again. Her arms relax, then her legs, as she shifts her weight to one side and sets her shield down. "In more than one way, it is."
* Iris gives them no more instructions because she ain't no cop. She sighs and reties her robes a little tighter, gloved hands going to her hips as she waits for Fabirot to finish the job. "Yours, maybe. Mine... nah, not so much. Just here to serve, you know?"
<GMStelas> >> Fabirot clears his throat from somewhere lower down. "Sometimes, you could have fooled me." He straightens up, looking the man over once more, then nods to a nearby Watchman. He salutes, and he and two other soldiers wander up to manhandle the man away. "Thanks for yer help, sir," nods the guard.
* Airine is silent for a while longer, but then turns her eyes away. "Sure," she half-heartedly says to Iris, and watches more intently as the man is dragged away by the soldiers.
* Iris fucking rogueish grin at that comment totally thinking about giving Fabirot a huge noogie right here in front of everyone. She settles for waving merrily as the guy is dragged away by the guards, a big ol' grin sticking out of a robe. "That's most of 'em, I think? Pretty sedate crowd today, only one swing."
<GMStelas> >> With a nod, the Brother scans for anyone else looking in serious need of help, but by now the Sisters of Silence and assorted Lothian members have gotten to most of them. He takes the opportunity to finally put his hood up against the rain, not having to see what he's doing and work precisely. "And only a /little/ fire," he adds weakly, then shakes his head. "Thank providence it wasn't at the chapel."
<GMStelas> >> "And only a /little/ fire," he adds weakly, then shakes his head. "Thank providence it wasn't at the chapel."
* Airine shuts her eyes at that last comment, contemplating it... and it induces a little frown in her. It fades quickly, however. "Thank you for your assistance as well. Airine Tichborne, of the Order of the Dawn," she finally finds it in her brain to mention.
* Iris folds her arms and makes a deeply thoughtful hum, watching the goings-on as the square returns to some semblance of normality. Rain pitter-patters against her bulky greatrobes, thick enough that she's certainly still cozy and warm in the miserable weather. "Sister Akasha, nobody of the Lothian Church. Pleasure to work with you!"
<GMStelas> >> Fabirot nods. "Indeed? I've heard things about you." That hangs in the air for a dreadful moment, then he coughs. "--good things, I assure you," he adds hastily, though the sentence immediately afterwards trying to explain himself folds away into mumbles.
* Airine is, on the other hand, going to have to spend an hour and change polishing that scalemail and the associated leather support before they rot and rust. The awkward pause from Brother Fabio (TM) goes... well, it visibly goes unnoticed. "Thank you for your notice." She looks listlessly towards Iris and replies, "It was my pleasure as well."
* Iris smacks one fist into an open palm, introductions complete. "Sure, sure. What's the plan now? Are the guard gonna want us to come help them out again or can we go?"
<GMStelas> >> With a sight, Fabirot nods at the queue of adventurers - more like a mild scrum - already building outside the Chapel. "/You/ can probably go. I fear I'm going to be stuck for a while."
* Iris tugs on the top of her hood. "Me? Leave you to do all the work? Nonsense. C'mon, I'll help out."
* Airine stares at the queue as well, her eyes narrowing. Keeping a vigil over them, as it were. She doesn't lend any words into the common sentiment, and just lets her action of walking towards the issue proper.
<GMStelas> >> "Oh good," Fabirot responds, then straightens up just a little more and out of nowhere seems to gain an aura of respectability. "Please pass on my thanks to your superiors, Airine. I'm glad to have had the help of all Dawn members today."
* Airine looks towards Brother Veni Veni Veninas, Ne Me Mori Fabirot... okay, I'll stop, and has a strong, brief nod. "I will see this task through to its conclusion."
* Iris places her hands back together like a good monk ought to, and she is most definitely not all that good at being a monk.
<GMStelas> >> At that, Fabirot frowns and quirks one eyebrow... but it's forgotten soon enough as the first of many adventurers steps forward to ask about receiving a blessing, and his attention is rapidly tugged away as he hurries back towards the chapel. Iris is, for all her promises of help, very quickly left to try to catch up.
* Airine pauses a little as she watches the exchange about adventurers needing 2000 turns of sanctuary. Or, well, perhaps just an ecclesiastic blessing. Or maybe a mechanically tangible blessing! Who knows. She certainly was thinking it was another row, another event that needs to be quelled. "... it will not take them long to become unruly," she mutters offhandedly to Iris. "It would be prudent to keep watch."
* Iris bows her head towards that there paladin with the worldly wisdom and takes off after Fabirot at a fair clip, mindful of the throngs of people milling around the square and the slippery-ass stone ground as she scrambles to get back to the chapel and resume bitch-work duties post haste.
<GMStelas> >> And as the paladin trudges her way back to base and the cleric and monk get down to business... it decides to thunder. Good old Ptolus weather.
<GMStelas> >> End.
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