forum Help me out- Running an experiment

Started November 22, 2023 by @EldritchHorror-Davadio health_and_safety emoji_events

tune

“What’s your name?” Arcturus asked from his spot by the fire. The girl had started to sit up, and Franklyn was hurriedly snagging pillows and more blankets for her, so she could sit comfortably.
“My name is Valiel.” she responded, glancing at the Elf, before sipping more tea. Franklyn got back just then and tucked pillows in around her, as well as laying another blanket over top of her. She felt a little better the more insulated she was against prying eyes.
“Where are you from, Valiel?” Arcturus had not heard the thick accent on her Westron before. He’d done quite a lot of travelling and had no idea where that was from. “What brings you so close to Archetoth?”
She opened her mouth to answer, and… nothing came out. As she thought about it, Valiel realized she wasn’t even really sure she had the answers to those questions. It felt like her mind was pulling at pieces of dreams for information, but… she couldn’t get the clear answers she needed in that moment. “I-… I don’t know.”
Franklyn’s eyebrows shot up. “You don’t know where you’re from? Or you don’t want to tell us?”
Valiel shook her head. “No, I-… I really can’t remember. I know my name and… that’s about it.”
Franklyn stepped over to where her clothes were mostly dry by now. He held up the garments, noting the a few of them had the threadbare look of clothes worn a long time. “Do these jog any memories for you? Any recollection of where you got them?”
Valiel shook her head. “No, not really. I just know they’re mine.” She looked down at her mug of tea and sipped it, thinking hard.
“Are you human?” Arcturus asked. It wasn’t a rude question, just one you could never take for granted.
Valiel’s eyes lit up as she remembered a piece of information about herself. “No! No, I’m a Skin-changer.” She lifted her hand and tried to shift the form, but found she didn’t have enough energy to do more than grow fur on it. “I Skin-change by the grace of Antherias. He guided me to you, I think. I remember asking him for help in the cold.”
Arcturus nodded, watching as the facts seemed to tumble from her mind all in a rush. “And does that help you remember where you’re from?”
The memories stopped cold, as if locked behind a wall, and Valiel shook her head, his face returning to its pensive expression. “No… I’m sorry. I wish I knew where to tell you.”
Franklyn was staring at the ground, and when Arcturus glanced at him, the Elf could tell he was thinking very fast. “Antherias is worshipped by shifters of all kinds, but I believe he originates from the south of us. Which would also explain Westron not being your native language.” The doctor looked up. “Any of that sound right?”
Valiel looked at him, contemplation in her eyes. “…Maybe? I’m not sure.”
“Say, down around Khand?” Franklyn took his best educated guess, and was gratified when Valiel nodded quickly.
“I know that name! I know that place. It must be near there.”
Arcturus nodded slowly. “See, you’re getting somewhere already. Doc Berg will help you figure this out.” For his part, Arcturus was doing his best to think of all the people groups he knew. He’d never met Khandians with pale skin, auburn hair and purple eyes, who could shapeshift, so she must be from close to there. Still, that only narrowed it down a bit.
Valiel gave a slight smile at his words, before looking back at Franklyn. “Hey, uh… if my clothes are dry, could I…?”
Franklyn nodded quickly, before turning and pulling the curtains closed over the window. “Of course. Arcturus and I will step out.” He headed towards the entry way, where he plopped down, thinking, and the Elf followed him, leaving Valiel her privacy.

….……
You help me decide what happens next.
In a whisper, give me your vote for one of the following options:

1. Documents
2. Character Reveal

“Had she said anything before we left?” Romulus asked quietly, continuing the conversation he and Lucky had been having on their walk through the wind.
“A little. She asked a question. Strong accent that I didn’t recognize.” Lucky said, speaking around a mouthful of food. “Definitely not from here though.”
Romulus nodded, chewing, before glancing thoughtfully at Lucky. “So definitely not Forathaonite, then.”
Lucky shook his head. “No. Not Forathaonite. Wouldn’t that be something though.” He gave a slight chuckle. “I’ve yet to find another in this part of the country. I reckon most of them either moved to the capitol, or went over to Rhun or Harad. Both of those places offered asylum for-… well, you know.” He gave Romulus a wry smile. The big Captain was distantly related to the Harad Royal family, so he kept up on the news and history.
Romulus reached over and patted his shoulder. “Well, hey. I’m glad you wound up here, buddy.” He set his knife and fork on the plate and stood up. “I need to keep making my rounds, I’ve waited long enough as it is.” He picked up the dish. “Can I wash the dishes for you, or-“
“Just leave it there, I’ll get it.” Lucky smiled at him. “Thanks for checking up on everyone. You know I appreciate it, even if you are a big scary slab of beef.”
Romulus shrugged. “I don’t try to be.” He turned and headed out the door of the small loft apartment, descending the stairs into the livery barn, and then braving the snowstorm again. “I’ll be back around in a bit!”
Lucky waved down the stairs to him, before gathering up the dishes and making his way to the sink. He pumped the water up, washed the couple of things they’d used, and plopped down in his seat by the small wood-burning stove.
His mind raced the entire time.
It would have been something if she were from Forathaon. Lucky hadn’t heard Rathaonish spoken since he was a teen, and he missed the sound of his own language. Forathaon had been conquered by an invading force before Lucky was born. He’d only ever known Dagan the Iron Hammer as a ruler, and the powerful Dwarf had not been kind to native Forathaonites. Conditions had worsened Lucky’s entire life, till he was 12. That was the year rebellion broke out, not just in small pockets before, but in an organized uprising, with militia and everything. Lucky’s father had gone off to join the fight, trying to secure a better future for his wife and children. Lucky had hired himself out as a farmhand, in order to keep food on the table for his sister and mother. One day, when he was 14, one of the farmers Lucky worked for had offered him a foal as payment. Lucky had gone to look at the little horse and fell in love immediately. The horse seemed well mannered and easy to train, so he’d named him Sinjoro, or ‘gentleman’. And that horse, over the next two years, had become his dearest friend.
And then, when the Iron Hammer had finally smashed the rebellion, leaving Lucky’s father dead and the country in ruins, Sinjoro had saved Lucky’s life. Anyone related to the rebellion had been forced to flee, and the neighboring countries of Rhun and Harad had offered asylum to Forathaonite refugees.
Lucky had taken his mother and sister and had run, Sinjoro allowing them to move quickly. However, the public declarations from the monarchs of Rhun and Harad had angered Dagan the King, and he had decided to cut off the fleeing refugees at the borders.
Lucky didn’t know what he was leading his family into. It wasn’t until the fighting began that he realized what was happening, and by the time he got his wits about him… his family was dead, along with many others.
SInjoro pulled him from the fight, Lucky’s arm tangled in the straps of his saddle and reins. Without the horse, the Forathaonite teen wouldn’t have survived.
He climbed into the saddle and rode for a week solid, eventually ending up in Rhovanion. He was 16, and alone.
Joining the Imperial Courier Service had granted him purpose, as well as a way to pay the bills. He had yet to meet another Forathaonite, even in all that travel across the Empire.
The girl might be in the same boat, he thought to himself. Far from home, hurting, and alone.
Well. Not totally alone, if I can help it…

….……
You help me decide what happens next.
In a whisper, give me your vote for one of the following options:

1. That Night
2. The Next Morning

As the night progressed, the storm eventually petered out, leaving nothing but still, cold air and fresh, unmarked snow in its wake. Archetoth sat quietly, as if trying to catch its breath after an ordeal .
In their homes, the people slept, warm and safe. Romulus had managed to make his rounds, even in the snow, and was getting a well-deserved rest in the barracks on the outskirts of town.
In the infirmary, or the guest room of Franklyn’s office, Valiel was asleep. It was fitful sleep, interrupted by dreams and disjointed memory sequences. Down the hall, Franklyn could hear her tossing and turning. He was awake, thinking, his mind turning over the variables slowly and examining them from all sides.
Valiel had talked to him and Arcturus for a bit, before her body had made it clear she needed to sleep. He’d made sure she had food and plenty to drink, before helping her into one of the comfortable beds. She had fallen asleep almost instantly, though from the sound of it, she wasn’t resting well. In fact, as he was sitting in his room, reading up on southern shapeshifters, there was a cry, and a thud.
That’s not good. He was up and hurrying down the hall before he thought about it. “Valiel? Valiel, are you alright?” He came around the corner and stepped into the infirmary, where the only light was the moonlight through a window.
Valiel was on the ground, curled up. The blankets and sheets looked like she had yanked them loose from the bed. Franklyn snapped his fingers, and with a small click, lights recessed over the bed blinked on. Valiel looked up, her eyes wild, and immediately shifted shapes. The cowering girl in front of him became a vicious panther, all claws and teeth and coiled muscle. She backed away from him, her ears flat against her head, snarling as she retreated further into the room. Franklyn stepped back, aware he was dealing with someone not in their right mind, and also clearly very capable of hurting him. He put his back against the wall, and just watched her for a moment.
In her head, Valiel was fighting herself and a million shadows. You’re disappointing him… he’s going to hurt you… you shouldn’t have shifted… punishment is coming… shift back… SHIFT BACK! The final imperative shook her from her adrenaline fueled reaction, and she shifted back to her humanoid form, curling up on the floor where she was, mumbling “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I just… I didn’t-…”
Franklyn stayed where he was, but slid down the wall into a sitting position. He didn’t move, or say anything. He just waited.
And after a minute or two, Valiel’s system ran out of energy, and she began to drift back towards unconsciousness. At this point, Franklyn scooted over next to her, pulling some of the blankets with him. As she began to sink back towards sleep of some kind, he gently lifted her head and laid it in his lap, before spreading the blanket over her. “Sleep, Valiel. You’re safe here.” He wasn’t sure if his words got through to her, but she relaxed against him, which was good enough.
He monitored her mumblings till morning came.

….……
You help me decide what happens next.
In a whisper, give me your vote for one of the following options:

1. Pops
2. Butchery

Tilder meat had a particular consistency that Ronnie always found interesting. Breaking down a deer was one thing; breaking down a side of beef was another; but tilder was its own puzzle. The once domesticated meat animals had escaped and now had a thriving population in the forests of the Empire, making them a much sought-after product from his shop. The butcher was up early, working already by the time the sun was peaking up over the horizon, throwing light across the snow. He had a good backlog of meat, since in the cold months, it was easier to store hunted food. He’d been cooped up yesterday, and Lucky had never come back from making his delivery out to Arthur Timmon’s farm, so he’d just stayed in the shop, continuing to work on getting as many good cuts of meat from the tilder as he could. He was so focused, he nearly missed the light knock on his door, but his sharp ears caught the sound in the quiet of the morning. A look up at the window revealed Arcturus, who gave Ronnie a slight wave. The butcher wiped his hand on a clean spot on his apron, and went to let the Elf in.
“Mornin’, Arcturus. You’re up early.”
Arcturus shrugged. “No earlier than you. Planning on making deliveries this morning?”
Ronnie nodded at him and stepped back around the counter. “I was planning on it. Might have to dg some folks out though. You busy? I could probably use some help.”
“I am indeed free, if you’d like the help. I do have a request though.”
Ronnie looked up at him. “Name it.”
Arcturus smiled and glanced up the street. “Doc has a patient who I believe might need more meat than the average person. I’m not sure of my guess, but it’s entirely possible she may need quite a large helping of tilder, if that’s what you’re delivering this morning. I’m paying.”
Ronnie nodded, glancing down at his block. “Well… I should have plenty. I’ll give it to you at cost, since you’re being nice.” He looked up, quirking an eyebrow at the Elf’s generosity. “She, huh?”
Arcturus shrugged, not showing any signs of bashfulness. “Yes, a young lady. Lucky brought her in off the plains yesterday just before the storm. She’s been quite sick.”
Ronnie began wrapping more portions of the meat. “Ah. Well that explains why he never came back in. I never did get the money from Arthur’s portion yesterday.”
Arcturus told him that Lucky had been busy, and filled him in on the details at Doc’s office. The two men packed up enough meat for this side of town and started making deliveries. Some places, they had to dig out a layer of snow and ice to get the meat in its usual spot. They returned to the shop and loaded up another delivery of meat, before making their way across the other side of town.
Doc’s place was the last stop, and Arcturus knocked on the door, before opening it and stepping in. By this time, the sun was fully up, and most of the town was waking up. Still, no sign of Doc in his offices. “Interesting. Must have slept pretty hard after yesterday.” Arcturus mused. He turned and took the meat from Ronnie. “I’ll take that, if you don’t wanna stick around.”
Ronnie handed him the packages of meat and shrugged. “I’m in no hurry, though if he’s asleep I don’t want to wake hi-“ He went quiet as a small figure padded out from the house portion of the offices and over towards the fire. It was a young girl, red haired, wrapped in several blankets, and clearly still asleep. She shuffled over to the fire, and plopped down in front of it on the floor.
Ronnie couldn’t help looking at her for a long moment. There was something about her, something almost familiar, but he had no clue what that was. He realized he was staring after a moment, and shook his head to clear it.
Arcturus had stepped into the kitchen area and was putting the meat away in Doc’s icebox. He stepped back out about the same time Franklyn came into the office. “Ah, there you are, Doc. Hope we didn’t wake you.”
Franklyn looked tired, but he gave both men a smile. “Not at all, I was just getting up actually. The sun coming in my curtains will do that.” He noted Ronnie, and patted his pockets. “Hold on, I’ve got your payment somewhere here.”
Ronnie waved him off. “Don’t worry about it. It’s taken care of today.” He stepped towards the doctor, speaking quietly. “Arcturus told me your guest might need quite a lot of protein.”
Doc nodded slowly. “I agree, though I won’t know how much. She’s a shifter from the south.”
Ronnie stiffened, several things becoming clear to him. The familiarity suddenly made sense. He looked at her, this time fighting to keep the loathing off his face. “Southern shapeshifter, huh? Like a Skin-changer?”
Arcturus nodded, noting the change on Ronnie’s face. “Yes. Something the matter with that?”
Ronnie shook his head, before stepping back. “I’d better head out. Got a lot to do.” He turned and started to head towards the door, when a soft voice stopped him in his tracks.
“Thank you.”
He glanced over his shoulder at the girl, and saw that she’d turned to look at him. There was innocence and pain, in equal measure mixed in those eyes. And at the moment, gratitude. He wanted to tell her she was welcome. He also wanted to curse her to the seventh ring of the Inferno. So he settled for a polite nod, before glancing at Doc. “Lemme know what you need.”
He was out the door and trudging back through the snow after a moment. He tried to fight the images coming unbidden to his mind, but could only hold the off for so long. Images of war, of his friends and comrades torn limb from limb by shape-shifting monsters who came from the shadows. His captains rent in pieces by innocent looking children, or pretty girls, who lured them into a sense of safety before shifting their form and killing the vulnerable soldiers. Ronnie had spent too long fighting Skin-changers before coming to Archetoth. If she was here to stay, for some reason…. then this wasn’t going to be easy.

….……
You help me decide what happens next.
In a whisper, give me your vote for one of the following options:

1. Character Reveal
2. Worldbuilding