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]

[Speaking of magic, there's something that's been bothering Syrlya since shortly after arriving...]

I've noticed that my own magic seems... diminished, since arriving. Some spells don't function at all and others are weaker than they should be. Has anyone else experiences a similar weakness?

[He isn't quite sure if this is an intentional interference of the Harvest Goddess, so he stops short of accusing her... but he also won't bring it up to her directly for much the same reason.]

[passthrough]

Nothing magical, but I know I'm not really running at full strength, either. Uh... physically, anyway. I should be able to handle a lot more than I currently can.

[He's been a little more distracted by his weapon vanishing off the face of the earth to test it too much, though.]

[chronosynthesis]

Physical strength as well? [He raises his brows. At least with external magic it could be explained as something blocking it, but has something internal changed with them as well...?] I suppose it isn't just the strain of the trip here.

[passthrough]

I don't think so. I don't feel ill or damaged or anything like that. There's just definitely something missing.

[He blows out a breath, frustrated, but very clearly pointed at the subject at hand, not Syr.]

I figured out where our weapons are, by the way. She has them.

[chronosynthesis]

Oh? I'm surprised she did not just leave them behind. I suppose she thinks of it as collateral to make us play along?

[framestory]

[ Ellis writes on his notepad to show whoever is interested: ]

At first, my power wasn't as strong, but I got everything back now. I've been doing a lot of bingo stuff, so I think maybe that has something to do with it.

[chronosynthesis]

[Syrlya does lean over to read that note and... frowns.] So, we have to barter for our own abilities back?

[framestory]

That's what the goddess said we can do, right? And I did a lot of them and everything is much better and comfortable.

[ He doesn't regret doing it at all. Survival needs come first, then comfort. ]

Do you want my help in completing the squares?

[chronosynthesis]

[He blinks rapidly, momentarily taken back at the offer.] I... admit I haven't given completing them much thought.

[A lot of romance. Sex. Things he has zero experience in and sort of put out of mind. But if it's the way to get his magic back...] How did completing them go for you? Did you ask the Goddess for a reward in return for each task?

[framestory]

[ Ellis shakes his head no. ]

I never really talked to her about anything, so it just happened on its own.

[ Other than the time when he tossed a pebble into the pond and got cursed for it, there was no real conversation between them... ]

[spellsdeadwrong]

Yeah, I noticed that. [Bemused...] I figured the Maiden had taken it, though. They'll need that magic back in Desuya while I'm gone, and my fire magic's still going strong.

[chronosynthesis]

The Maiden? [He clearly isn't familiar.] I suppose without confirmation, we do not know that explanation is not different between us... but there is one likely source we can all point to.

[spellsdeadwrong]

The Maiden! [LET HIM TELL YOU ABOUT THE MAIDEN SHE'S THE COOLEST--] She's the whole reason Desuya still exists!

A long time ago something happened to the planet and everything went to shit. You couldn't breathe the air, the temperature started rising, and all the water started disappearing. When the Creators built our home, the Maiden gave them the power to create water so we could survive.

So if I'm here, they'll need someone to stand in for me while I'm gone. So it'd make sense!

[...although oh no, does he need to be worried about losing his position as a Summoner when he goes home???? He hadn't thought about that part.]

[chronosynthesis]

I see. So controlling water is just uncommon among your people, or does it require an actual blessing from the Maiden to receive?

[spellsdeadwrong]

[Watches the loading wheel spin, he's never thought about it... it's going to take far longer than it should for him to come up with an answer to that, honestly.]

The second one! ...I think. The Maiden's gotta keep that air of mystery, yeah? So she can't just show up every time a Summoner goes and bites it! But any time one of us dies, there's always another one within a day. And there's only ever eight of us at a time, so it's more than "uncommon."

[Technically he met her when he became a Summoner, but lol he doesn't actually remember that, it's not allowed.]

[feralheart]

It's not magic. But I wasn't healing like I should until recently. [ There's a gritted teeth pause of him trying to fight this: ] ...nya.

[chronosynthesis]

... Nya? I'm... not familiar.

[feralheart]

Can't stop doing it. Dunno why. Nya.

[chronosynthesis]

So you don't know what it means either?

[feralheart]

Nh... nyo.

[ It's getting worse. Syrlya have mercy. ]

wanders in here late

[pactmarshal]

[ Magic? Important, yes. Trahearne's necromancy has been gone. It's frustrating, of course, but it isn't though he's in dire need of it when scattering mushroom spores.

But there is some other sorcery afoot. The firstborn finds himself making a beeline for Syrlya once he sees his answers to van Ziek's survey. ]

Commander, a moment, please?

[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? ]