Some Sort of Town Hall Meeting

[winebar]

WHO: van Zieks and anyone who chooses to show up.
WHAT: van Zieks tries to catherd and hold a team meeting. Surely nothing will go wrong.
WHEN: About a week after arrival
WHERE: Outskirts of the Beach Area
WARNINGS: Hopefully none but let me know if any need to be added

[One afternoon, a few days after their arrival, a face that may or may not be familiar treks to every farm on the island to deliver what could perhaps best be described as a summons. Even if you happen to be home for it to be hand-delivered rather than placed on the door, van Zieks will not answer any questions about it, dismissing it to all be discussed "at the meeting." His summons reads as thus in very proper and fancy handwriting;]

To All Parties Brought to this Island by the party referring to herself as the "Harvest Goddess" (Henceforth referred to as such for the sake of convenience and not as confirmation of her claims),

Tomorrow at 11AM sharp, please arrive at the location indicated on the map shown of the reverse of this document. Without any legal structure in place, I can certainly not enforce attendance, however I would hope everyone see it in their best interests to collaborate with the others who are in their same situation.

If you are willing, it would expedite things for this meeting and potential future ones to write your personal answers and bring that record to the meeting;
1. Your name, your country of origin, and the year you most recently recall it being.
2. Your profession and any relevant skills to our current situation
3. Your opinion on the existence of god(s) and/or magic/the otherwise paranormal
4. Your opinion of the Harvest Goddess, her claims of divinity, and her promised agreement for returning us to our homes.

Sincerely,
Lord Barok van Zieks, Esquire

(On the other side of the paper, a hand-drawn and rough if not precisely made map indicates a spot on the beaches to the East.)


[Should one decide to answer this meeting summons, they will find van Zieks at the location as early as 10:30AM, but as stated he does not begin formal proceedings until 11. He is dressed only slightly less primly than he was upon their arrival, having foregone his dark outer jacket and gloves, but retains his waistcoat and cravat, along with his fancy boots that are now a tiny bit scuffed. Imagine this outfit with his prosecutor's badge now pinned to it instead of his jacket. He has, somehow, brought a table to the beach, relatively flimsy so it is. If anyone brings him the information he requested he's gathering those on said table.

At 11, he stands behind the table when he addresses the group, commanding attention with a brusque slammed fist onto his makeshift Prosecutor's Bench;]

I thank you all for coming. I think my request in the summons should have made the topics I wish to discuss clear, but in short, I wish to get a broader sense of the scope of some discrepancies I have noticed in our understanding of reality, and following that, an idea of how we stand individually and as a group in regards to our current situation.

Firstly, though, I would like to make clear my personal intentions and credentials, both to demonstrate my intent and as a show of good faith, disclosure, and good standing in which I may claim to have the authority to conduct this meeting. As I said in my letter, my name is Barok van Zieks. I hail from London, England, where, as of the current year of 1899, I serve as a prosecutor in Her Majesty Queen Victoria's courts and have done so for the past ten years.

In my personal experience, the existence of God is widely believed but technically unproven, and the supranormal all inclusive are merely works of fiction and artifice. As far as our host is concerned, in speaking with her I found her unwilling to negotiate, explain herself, or provide proof of her claims. It is for these reasons that I find the Harvest Goddess difficult to take at face value and the prospect of blindly following her orders non-ideal at this time.

I will also remind you all that regardless of your personal sentiments toward our current situation, what she has done constitutes mass kidnapping and unlawful imprisonment. There is, of course, currently no means to pursue this in a legal sense; however, I would move that we should strongly consider attempting to learn all we can about this situation before simply conceding to her terms.

[He takes a dramatic bow and steps back from his "desk";]
I have said my piece, and I open the floor to discussion.

Comments

[chronosynthesis]

Hm? [Syrlya leans as he turns to look over his shoulder at Trahearne.] What is it?

[pactmarshal]

[ Trahearne comes to stand before Syrlya, perhaps a little too close. He peers down, an expression of concern and confusion on his face. ]

I happened to get a glimpse of your survey answers. [ Frown. ] And I wanted clarification on the date. Last I checked, it was not 1335.

[ He knew Syrlya was not telling him something. ]

[chronosynthesis]

[Syrlya loosely folds his arms.] No, that wouldn't be the last year you would remember in Tyria. Some time has passed in the campaign against Mordremoth.

[Like, seven years. Which is a very long time for Syrlya, he's technically spent more time missing Trahearne than knowing him.]

[pactmarshal]

[ There's a moment of silence as he stands there, staring at Syrlya. It's hard to believe at first--he'd essentially blinked and found himself on the island, yet his (former?) second-in-command is telling him that seven years has passed...?

He isn't sure how to take this. That is a long, long time. ]

...I trust there's a reason you did not tell me right away.

[ He doesn't sound...disappointed. More dejected. Why keep this from him? ]

[chronosynthesis]

[Syrlya blinks rapidly, expression and arms slipping.]

I was not hiding it if that's what you mean.

[pactmarshal]

[ Trahearne purses his lips as his brow furrows further.

...He still doesn't know how to address this. ]

Then I hope you were planning on telling me at some point.

[ Because one--that's strange that he literally blinked and seven years had passed for Syrlya, and two--seven years is a long time. He can't imagine all the things he'd gone through in the meanwhile. A tiny fear deep inside of him tells him that the world has marched on without him, that the world and Syrlya could have very well forgotten about him up until this moment.

How could he have known? He wishes he found out from Syrlya himself and not an impersonal stack of papers. ]

[chronosynthesis]

I would have! [His shoulders hunch, a little defensive.] Everything else has just been a lot to deal with. It's a little more urgent than Tyria.

[pactmarshal]

I suppose it is.

[ If only they'd a little more time to talk between all the farming. But now, he feels an impossible gap between the two of them.

After a moment, his expression eases. ]

How have things been, then? [ ...that's too broad. ] What have become of the dragons? Has Mother recovered?

[chronosynthesis]

[As Trahearne's expression eases, so does Syrlya shoulders.

That is too broad, so he'll focus on just the pointed questions.] She is conscious, now, and gets stronger every day. New Sylvari have been continuing to bloom for a while. The dragon cycle as we have known it... is over.

[And it's such a relief to be able to say that, even if it feels so unreal sometimes.] No longer will the devestate Tyria every time they awake.

[pactmarshal]

[ It's a bit concerning to think that the Pale Tree still wasn't at her full strength after all these years. His arms move slightly, ready to fold over his chest, but--

The dragon cycle as we have known it... is over.

Trahearne freezes when he hears that. And not moments later, warmth and relief he never thought he would know blooms through his chest, and his expression widens in all kinds of ways--in relief. In disbelief. ]

It's... It's over? [ Is this real?? ] The dragons are gone?

[chronosynthesis]

Mm, every one that was terrorizing Tyria. [Not Aurene, but that's a longer story perhaps saved for a time when they can sit down and break the news that... killing the dragons had actually been a bad idea, to start.] I believe we truly look forward to an era of peace now. The bonds forged in that fight won't easily be forgotten.

[pactmarshal]

[ The disbelief on Trahearne's face eases as Syrlya continues to speak, eventually settling in a smile. There's a fondness in his eyes as he studies Syrlya. ]

And I have no doubt you played a major role in this victory.

[ It is in his mind a victory. He'll learn of the downsides in due time.

His voice drops, murmured almost to himself: ]

I wish I could be there to see it.

[ All he's known is conflict with the dragons. A world without it is hard to imagine. ]

[chronosynthesis]

[Syrlya sobers up at that admission, his gaze averting.]

You deserved to. [He swallows. It still goes down bitter.

He shakes his head, clearing his throat.] There have been geopolitical changes as well, of course, but Tyria may not be so different than what you remember. At least, so long as we're here, we don't need to worry.

[pactmarshal]

[ That last sentence comes across as pointed, and Trahearne feels some of his tension, and the forward, nervous energy in him dissipating. If Syrlya tells him there's nothing to worry about, then who is he to argue? ]

...All right. I won't.

[ He can't help himself--he reaches and clasps his hand over Syrlya's shoulder, and a smile slowly crosses his face. ]

Thank you. [ For knowing what to say. ] I hope you'll set aside some time to tell me some of your tales, however.

[chronosynthesis]

[Syrlya looks up as he feels that hand on his shoulder.

After a second, he offers a tentative smile in return.] Of course. When we are not in the middle of another meeting. You filled out his little questionnaire as well, I presume?

[pactmarshal]

[ They are technically in a meeting. Trahearne lets his hand drop, putting professional distance between them again, and nods to where all the submissions are. ]

Of course. I tried to be as thorough as possible--I found the assumptions in the questions to be quite narrow. [ A little smile. ] Though you may find my information to be outdated.

[chronosynthesis]

I am sure it serves its purpose of quelling any skeptics... and if not, they need only get a look at us. [So he thinks.]

[pactmarshal]

[ Trahearne chuckles, casting Syrlya a smile. If either of them know what being themselves in front of skeptics is like, it's Trahearne (he doesn't know about Cantha yet). ]

You're right. I doubt there are many like us across worlds.

[ Honestly that they're here should be evidence enough for magic... But some remain firmly skeptical, it seems. ]

[chronosynthesis]

The goddess seems to have prioritized bringing humans. [They may never know if Sylvari are the only talking plants that passed her muster.] Actually, I wonder how she did find each of our worlds. It wasn't that simple even for the human gods, was it?

[pactmarshal]

[ Trahearne crosses his arms, lifts a hooked finger to his chin. ]

A reasonable question. I believe it's safe to say that to pull across time and space at once to bring us all here would make her more powerful than all the human gods combined. [ A frown. ] It's best we play it safe with her.

[ who knows, maybe they are just special sylvari. ]

[chronosynthesis]

[Look at them, mirroring each other.]

I agree, especially when we do not seem to be at our full strength.

[pactmarshal]

[ Mirror this, Syr. Trahearne looks at his hand. He really has nothing. ]

No. But whether that's deliberate on the goddess's part, or a side effect of being transported here--it's hard to tell.

[ He brings his eyes up, a defiant look on his face. ]

But our teamwork is unparalleled. She can't take that away from us.

[chronosynthesis]

[Syrlya's brows raise at Trahearne's determination, but in return he cracks a grin.]

It was put teamwork that even put ending the dragon cycle in motion. [He reaches to pat the front of Trahearne's shoulder, letting his hand linger.] Whatever we need to get through, we can do it together.

[pactmarshal]

[ Trahearne reflexively flinches as Syrlya's hand comes to him. His own hand raises and hovers, but he's unsure if he wants to shoo Syrlya away or not.

Regardless, he grits through the sudden shock of pain and forces a smile. ]

We can do it together. I have full faith in us.

[ He sounds like they're about to launch the offensive on Kralkatorrik, but it is just farming. ]

[chronosynthesis]

[Farming is serious business.

The flinch, however, catches Syrlya offguard. He pauses, bewildered.] Are you all right?