armis_and_dangerous

Kassard's own setting

[The Federation of Callary is a patchwork of former duchies, baronies, and city-states between the ocean and the mountains that's rapidly industrializing. There are small farming towns and larger cities fueled by steam and coal, as well as zeppelins crossing the skies.

Kassard's in a small town near the foothills of the mountains- an out of the way place where people make their living through sheep and farming, and everyone knows everyone else. Kassard and a few other members of the inquisition have parked their zeppelin on the largest field and headed into town. A young woman has gone missing, strange lights have been seen farther up in the mountains, and sheep have been vanishing too. People are on edge, even as Kassard talks to them amiably over a beer he's scarcely touched for more than half an hour as he discusses recent happenings with the locals, trying to learn as much as he can. He stands out in his uniform, especially with the sword and pistol at his hip.]

MoM setting

[There are a few different ways to react upon getting dragged into a strange world and being told you have superpowers. Kassard's opted for denial. Of course he can't do anything a normal human couldn't do with sufficient training, he's not a witch! And he's not in a different world, just in a different part of it- one with far more advanced technology that he's eager to investigate!

His papers have been tossed away, and he's listening to a local talk about imPorts with a smile that looks more like a grimace as he mentally translates things into terms that make more sense to him. Witches are coming here from someplace else, and allowed to roam free, causing problems and then taking credit for fixing them. He thanks the man for his time and heads on his way, ignoring the attempt to shake his hands. Clearly, he has work to do.]

[ The inquisition aren't the only ones coming to investigate the goings-on of the sleepy little town, although they're the ones making the biggest announcement of their presence, with the giant eyesore of a zeppelin. Malyiri much prefers a more understated approach, and while her presence as a non-resident of the small town will be mentioned to Kassard, it's that she's a weaving merchant passing through en route to the next city, and hoping to sell a few wares here before moving on.

Malyiri hadn't expected the inquisition to arrive so quickly for such barely-substantiated claims. It was the missing girl who'd drawn her presence here, but some of the unexplained lights had been her work, trying to find clues of her own.

Now she's trying to figure out how to retrieve her belongings from the inn without having to walk past the armed and uniformed soliders, thereby attracting unwanted attention to herself. Although if she keeps dithering about how to handle that particular problem, someone may end up pointing her out as one of those out of town visitors, and render the intent for secrecy moot. ]

Edited 2017-08-20 18:46 (UTC)

Kassard's heard of her all right, and while travelers were an uncommon but not extraordinary sight to the locals, the inquistion's arrival had drawn more attention to her. She's been pointed out, and Kassard's hand grips her shoulder in an outwardly friendly gesture that also lets him steer her towards where he wants to go.

"I hear you're new in town." There's an insincere friendliness to his tone. She showed up after the girl went missing, but still... unless there's been a witch hiding nearby for a while, someone or something that's an outsider is probably causing the problems. And even if it's not the merchant, she might know something.

"Where are you heading, and what direction did you arrive in town from?"

"New and temporary," Malyiri responded with a practiced smile, pretending not to notice how she's being directed away from where she wants to be headed. She's weighing the options of bolting, but it's hard to run and cast shield wards, and he doesn't wear that pistol like it's for show.

"And I'm bound for Kleshire, sir. Came up by way of Trinas, through the lowlands. Is there something I can help you with? Something a bit less formal to wear than your uniform, for your leave days?"

"Kleshire's further up in the mountains, isn't it? Wouldn't be safe to head that way until we've gotten to the bottom of what's happening- I'm sure it won't take too long, and then we can discuss your business." The smile's still there, but he's watching her closely. Her explanation matches what he heard from the villagers, but still...

"Have you seen or heard anything unusual on your way here? Or during your stay here? I understand that you arrived after the young lady disappeared."

He still hasn't let go of her shoulder.

"Just comments on the same mentions as you surely have," she shook her head, affecting a bit of worry creeping into her smile. "Disappearances of livestock and strange lights, and of course that girl disappearing. Have you talked yet to her family?"

Malyiri hadn't herself, only because there wasn't any good way a supposed traveling cloth merchant could start up that conversation without it being suspicious. Perhaps the inquisitor might let something slip, although he didn't seem the type to be careless. She turned as if to regard a passersby idly, testing to see if he'd let go of his grip on her.

"As for on the way here--" Give him something, girl. Something else to chase. "--well, I didn't anything of it at the time, but there were a lot fewer people on the road than normal. And many a string of bad luck, if you believe in that sort of thing."

Edited (fixed html) 2017-08-21 01:43 (UTC)

"They were among the first we spoke to, yes," And they were either hiding something or knew nothing of use, he didn't know which. And he had enough discipline not to show that in his face or tone, although his tone grew curt, his fingers digging into her shoulder.

"Your concern is understandable, but it's not necessary. We will get to the bottom of this, and then you can be on their way." Her comments about the journey from Trinas gave him pause though.

"What sort of bad luck? Poor weather, or something else?"

"Hopefully you can find answers for them soon," Malyiri murmured. Perhaps a more direct approach? "Ah... you're holding rather tightly, sir. Poor weather, broken wheels on road, supplies going bad when they shouldn't, little things that made for a miserable journey when taken all together."

Kassard didn't apologize, but his grip loosened slightly, so it was no longer painful, but still hard to escape.

His disappointment at her description of 'bad luck' was evident though. The weather might have been the workings of some kind of witch, but much of it sounded like ordinary bad luck, with one misfortune causing a chain reaction of others. Kassard's job and experiences in it might have left him somewhat prone to spotting signs of the supernatural in places he normally wouldn't, but what she was describing didn't seem that strange. And it was in the wrong place to be connected to what he was here to investigate. Still...

"Why don't we take a look at your goods?" Just to make sure she was what she claimed to be.

"Certainly, certainly. Changed your mind about the new suit?" Malyiri asked lightly. At least she had wares-- the ward-witch was, in fact, an actual weaver. When one could work light and magic into complex designs, doing the same to cloth came naturally. It was a good cover for exactly things like this, since Malyiri rarely kept her nose out of events when she should.

"Room's upstairs," she offered. If she could get him separated enough from the other members, perhaps she could restrain him long enough to get out. She'd have to leave her things, but that was a small price to pay for not having to experience firsthand what the inquisition would do to a witch.

"Lead the way." His hand drops from her should as he follows, and drifts to the pistol at his hip- a reflex from his training. He follows her at an even pace, nodding to two other inquisitors on his way upstairs- a scruffy man with an amiable expression and a gaunt woman with a worryingly intense stare.

"Do you sell hand or machine-woven cloth?" Nowadays it was hard to find the handmade stuff in large cities, outside of specialized shops, and machine made clothes were showing up in smaller and smaller towns, brought there by traveling merchants.

"Hand," she answered promptly, tipping a matching smile at the other two inquisitors, although inside she was groaning. Sweet beams and refraction, why do they always have to travel in packs...

"Although I know how on a machine, it's just neither as good nor as relaxing. I do my own dyes too, when I'm in a place that I can rent space for it," she added, keeping up the conversation of boring weaver talk and hoping it might work to lower the man's guard even a little, as remote a possibility as that was.

The room was no different than the others available for rent from the innkeeper, but her additions of rolls and folds of fabric in baskets taking up some of the surface real estate would hopefully be convincing enough.

[ The strangers stands out less, but not by much. There's only so much dressing like a plain traveler can do for a girl with one red eye, a cut up face, and a gun that's taller than she is. The bags she travels with suggest to the trained eye that she's brought quite the arsenal with her. Almost certainly she's a mercenary; an undisciplined scavenger, out for the meager gold offered by a jumpy lordling too panicked to wait for the proper authorities.

The locals give her a wide berth, but she'll stay close enough to hear the gossip, if she can. ]

Mercenaries are something Kassard's more used to fighting alongside than against- witches and their allies rarely have the gold to hire them, and mercenaries generally aren't interested in fighting the Inquisition and local authorities unless they're being payed exhorbitantly. The eye gives him pause, but for all he knows it's an effect of some tangle with a witch- witches themselves generally try to blend in, especially in this kind of place.

So he sits down next to her, watching her thoughtfully. She's young but not green, and will probably be useful if force is needed. Hopefully she'd survive it.

"Can I get you anything?" He waves over one of the servers. His tone isn't flirtatious, just one professional being friendly to another.

Yeah, good luck with that "work," buddy, because speaking of imPorts causing problems...

Well, there's a bit of a commotion headed Kassard's way as two people come walking out of a nearby store. Or, uh, maybe more accurately, one comes walking and the other storms after, shouting loudly about a thief. Now to his credit, the woman he's chasing does appear to be carrying a couple of bags with her, but if they're stolen, she doesn't seem to be trying very hard to get away. Just sort of casually strolling and allowing the man behind her to easily catch up.

Unfortunately, despite his much larger size, his attempts to grab her by the arm are as effective as his shouting at slowing her down, and she reaches out and easily moves him out of her way with one hand, quietly sighing, "Excuse me. I really need to be on my way."

Everyone else around is a bit too busy recording this on their phones to get involved, so if someone's planning on it, this may be the time.

Well, that's hardly the strangest thing he's seen. Still, even if it's not part of his responsibilities, he feels obligated to step in and help- it's something simple and almost familiar in a situation that's anything but. So his right hand jerks out, trying to wrap around her wrist and hold her still.

"Excuse me ma'am, I think that gentleman would like a word with you." There's a sharpness to his smile and tone, one that combined with his uniform would put most people he encountered on their guard.

Most people where he came from, anyway.

Trying is the part that should be emphasized in the whole arm grab event. Because a few millimeters out from it, he hits something else instead: a strange resistance that's not quite material but with enough force behind it that his hand actually can't quite ever reach hers. Like two magnets repelling one another.

"I know," she says, sounding fairly bored with this whole exchange already and only briefly even glancing his direction as she continues her slow exit, without missing a single stride. "And I know it's rude, which I'm sorry about, but I don't want to listen. I'm pretty sure I already know what he's going to say."

A witch. Or whatever the hell they call them here. Kassard leaps back like he's just burned his hand, drawing his pistol in the same movement and pointing it at her, expression full of sudden fury.

"Don't move! Everyone else, get away from her!"

Some people move away because of the order. Others just want to get away from the shouting man with a gun, and far more just don't want to be caught up in a fight between two imPorts- but will record the encounter from a safe distance.

Okay, dude. Chill. She's only a criminal with superhuman powers. What's the big deal?

Twice looks over at him long enough to raise a slightly confused eyebrow at the outburst, but the amount of concern she's showing for the weapon is deep in the negatives. "You probably shouldn't fire that here," she does suggest though, notably still walking. "Someone might get hurt."

Not her, of course. But someone else maybe.

Excuse you everyone with powers is (probably) a criminal!

Kassard might be occasionally impulsive, but he's not stupid. Not all witches have powers that directly shield them from physical harm. And of those, not all are powerful enough to shrug off bullets. Still, he shifts his stance, firing off a shot at her leg, watching to see what happens.

Predictably, for anyone who's had a run-in with Twice before at least, the bullet deflects off of her aura and, despite some shouts from onlookers, luckily manages not to actually hit any of them either.

As for Twice herself, she finally actually stops and turns to give him a blank... potentially unsettling stare. "I warned you not to do that."

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Kassard's setting

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Kassard's setting

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MoM

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