isleofavalon | EVENT ✨ Be Careful What You Wish For

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EVENT ✨ Be Careful What You Wish For

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This is the event log for IC comments only! Ask OOC questions HERE or use the FAQ for general questions. Click here to view top-level comments only.

It's a lovely winter's day. The rain is a light sprinkle, periodically the sun peeks out and forms a rainbow across the sky, and it's not even too cold to go out. The perfect kind of day. "Nothing could possibly go wrong!" is what someone said right before things started to go awry. All throughout the town, strange happenings began to occur... people began to experience odd effects, and though it was clearly magic, most of Camelot City's residents didn't seem to have an immediate understanding of what had happened. In fact, much of it seemed somewhat.. random.

Characters will optionally be able to experience the following during this event (player's choice; characters may experience more than one):

else's

As you can guess, chaos is ensuing because of these strange effects, and counter-curses don't seem to be doing anything about it. Unaffected people are being offered the chance to quarantine behind the castle walls in the castle's guest rooms-- a huge upgrade from the inns in just about every way (it's royal opulence, after all, enjoy the stay and the amenities!) or being told to find another location to spend their time other than the close-quarters of the city, in case it is some kind of magical disease that's spreading. The town criers (read: social media news outlets) who are sharing this information will also be gathering volunteers may be conscripted by King Arthur on a trip to the edge of the Forest of the Fisherking to seek the help of a magical archivist that might be able to help them identify the cause of this clusterfork.

To get to the Forest of the Fisherking, the safest path is the pass between the Land of Rot and the water. It's a dangerous journey. The Land of Rot itself has the stench of death about it, and in the distance, anyone traveling with the party will once in a while be able to see a lone member of the undead traversing what appears to be barren, dying lands-- be they a walking skeleton or a rotting corpse of a zombie. The skies above are filled with vulture-like creatures that pick the flesh off of those who wander in and don't wander back out. Anyone who tries to go toward it will be warned that it's a bad idea or stopped by someone else nearby, as though one alone may look like a single creature, they can call a horde at a moment's notice. The camp could be overrun within moments and none of them are equipped to fight the undead right now.

The pass itself doesn't appear to have many creatures to fight along the way- most don't want to be near the Land of Rot longer than they have to, and it's dead silent at night, except for the periodic shrill scream from the Land of Rot in the distance. In fact, if you wake up past midnight at the camp, you'll find that even the camp itself seems to have all of the sound sucked out of it. When you try to speak, no sound comes out. There is a reason that this little stretch of land between the lake and the rot is called The Silent Shore by the water creatures and fae who live just offshore... though since they aren't the ones making the maps, it's not common knowledge in Camelot City. There's no way for anyone to have known ahead of time that everyone in the camp would be silenced.

It's also why orc bandits attack the camp in the dead of night, as they know that no one will be able to let out a scream. Try to get to your friend's tents and alert others as soon as possible, get help, and stop the bandits from stealing all of your possessions or hurting someone... you know, without a peep. Good luck.

Once the arduous journey through the Silent Shore is finished, the party arrives at the Forest of the Fisherking. It's quiet, but not in the same way the shore was silent. In fact, it's a rather serene location. The sunlight peeks through the leaves of the canopy, and small bugs and butterflies and pixies and other strange things dance through the air like they're under an enchantment of their own. Eventually, the party finds the home of the magical archivist. On the surface, it looks like almost an abandoned steam-powered traincar. There are gadgets and gears and clocks in the first room, little experiments here and there, and at the end of the car is an elevator. The elevator only fits two at a time, so you'll need to take turns going down. And down, down, down it goes. The elevator itself is a little rickety, so it may stop and stutter and you may be trapped in an elevator for any amount of time, alone in a small box with another person. When you get to the bottom floor, a pocket-sized steampunk-dressed gnome will appear on the elevator railing in a poof of smoke.

"In order to pass my door, you must answer my questions three."

The first question will always be your character's name. The second question will always be what your character seeks. The third question can be anything the player wants no matter how serious or ridiculous you'd like, but both characters will have to answer all three honestly, or the elevator will go back up to the top. Should they answer truthfully, the gnome will disappear in a puff of smoke and the elevator doors will open to reveal a dusty, underground library, filled to the brim with books and references.

The archivist appears, pulling up a helmet of variable magnifying devices from over his head, and tells everyone to look around, but they're not allowed to take anything. Anything truly dangerous is locked up, but characters may be able to find information on magical creatures, tips and tricks for different types of magic, or different accounts of Arthurian legend, and more. King Arthur himself goes to speak with the man after this, so they can talk about what exactly is happening in Camelot City.

When Arthur returns, he tells everyone the following information: Apparently, those fireflies people were wishing on at the bonfire normally gather their ability to grant wishes from the stars, which are currently frozen in time. As such, the power they drew upon to grant wishes went absolutely haywire and granted messed up versions of wishes for all kinds of people, including the people who didn't make them. They are wishes and not curses, which is why no one's counter-curses worked. Fortunately, the fix is rather simple, and upon returning home, anyone who stays out of the sunlight for at least 24 hours straight will return to normal. As the sun is the only functioning star and it's supporting the use of the fragmented star power the fireflies use, the magic of the wish will dissipate. As this is an unprecedented situation, no one knew this would happen. He asks that those here on this journey take to spreading word and ensuring it be done.

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"It is no wonder you have such long legs, they certainly are excellent for jumping to conclusions," she says, through a hard sniff. "I have never said I thought you enjoyed it, nor have I implied it, for I have never thought that, so I will invite you to keep from putting words into my mouth."

For he is most certainly wrong. She has never once assumed that he has taken enjoyment in what he does, it has been quite clear for a long while that he sees it just as he has said it - a necessary evil. In fact he has always seemed quite miserable to her eyes, so she is not sure where he is dredging up these assumptions - perhaps in an attempt to protect himself, to other her, to assume outright that she must think the worst of him, because thinking otherwise might challenge whatever precarious balance he has in his heart to keep from collapsing beneath the weight of his sins.

But like everyone else in her life had done since the moment she left Sharalyan, he is attempting to fit her into a box, to make assumptions about who she is and what she thinks, and it is infuriating.

"Why are you so damned set on the idea that no one could ever understand your oh so lofty ideals? Of course I understand what you were trying to impart, what you were trying to achieve - a child would understand it. Wanting to protect and restore what you love is the basic instinct of nearly every living creature, you presumptuous fool. Or are you just so wrapped up in playing the victim that you truly believe the words coming out of your mouth?"

He has gotten to his feet, but Alisaie stands her ground, her shoulders tense and her hands balled into tight fists.

"Never once have I made excuses for the follies of man, war is a heinous, terrible thing, and I have dedicated my life to putting an end to the animosity between man and tribe. Yet still those words ring hollow from your lips, when it was by the Ascians machinations that the wedge between us was driven even more deeply."

While Emet is most certainly not wrong, it sure is an audacious claim to point fingers at the wickedness of man, when the Ascians, and he himself, have been responsible for so much war and strife between the world's races that it is all but impossible to know what their history books might have looked like without their influence.

"I know that," he grates out. His voice rises to a shout. "I know that!"

At this point the people of Camelot will come to know him as the man who frequently has outbursts on the street. Emet-Selch turns aside and rakes a hand through his hair and down his face, breathing hard. His other arm folds tightly over his chest, as though to keep something inside from bursting out.

If it weren't for the promises he has made to Hythlodaeus and the Matriarch--

"...The fact of the matter is that nothing I do will ever satisfy you. I could spend my entire time here being a saint and you would still view me with loathing. There is no point in pretending otherwise." He spits the last word out bitterly. "You ask me why I'm convinced you will never understand? Because you assumed I would resume my slaughter here, though I never gave any indication or suggestion that I would. Because you tried to bargain for my good behaviour when all I wanted was for you to let Amaurot survive its purge in a single timeline - not even for my own sake but for that of my friend."

He presses his mouth into a thin line. "I'm tired of being vilified for things I've not yet done. I'd rather you simply make an attempt to kill me again and be done with it."

"I think you are confusing understanding with wariness. Of course I must be careful, and suspicious of you; only an idiot wouldn't be!" You know, when someone murders like, literal worlds full of people, you generally tend to be careful around them and suspicious of their actions, and more than any of the Ascians, Emet has been far more cunning and patient. Who knows what ways he could find, here, to benefit his cause? And who knows what those ways would entail? It is not that she expects him to murder innocents for fun, but that she knows that he is capable of doing it if it suits his ends, with nary a thought. That is the sort of person you can never entirely trust not to do something terrible, even if it is for a greater good.

"Besides, why would you care about satisfying me? You've only ever treated me like a bothersome insect, I should not think that my opinion would matter to you any more than a sound on the wind. Nevertheless, if I really thought you would wander about murdering the citizenry for laughs, don't you think I would be keeping you in my sights far more often?"

Rather than, you know, avoiding him at almost all costs, because they certainly are going to become Those People Who Are Always Yelling Outside.

"I've no desire to kill you, but you cannot expect not to be vilified after what you have wrought. This was the contract you signed when you made the choices that you did." Destroy worlds, become villain.. that's kind of in the small print, there. Though Alisaie does give pause, her brow furrowing thoughtfully, and her voice lowering. "Though I suppose how much of it is truly your choice, is.."

..Debatable. He claims he would not do anything for his God, but that is not the way of tempering - Alisaie has seen too many men and women ravaged by a primal's influence to think otherwise. Zodiark seems to have granted Emet-Selch some measure of self awareness and personality, but being enslaved to a mad god is being enslaved to a mad god. Those under their influence have no choice but to exact their will, to protect them, to resummon them - which is honestly, all the more reason they must take care. Even were the man Hades not to condone all that has happened, Emet-Selch the ascian may have little enough agency. She is not unaware of this.

He can guess what she's thinking when she trails off. He looks away, fingers digging into his arm.

"Would it make a difference, then, if I told you that I am no longer under His influence?" he grates out.

He can remember it like it was yesterday. Time being as meaningless as it is to one whose age is measured in millennia, it may as well have been. The wound is still raw and his soul may never recover completely from being ravaged. He doesn't even know what the long-term effects may be.

It.. most certainly would make a difference, which is immediately evident, given her expression of abject shock.

No longer under his influence..? The tempering has been undone?

Not so long ago she would have been both disbelieving and elated, for it has been her fiercest wish and work to find a way to undo the tempering process, the very thing that she has been working toward since she arrived in Eorzea. At last she had found the way, so she knows that it is possible, yet still.. undoing the tempering of an Ascian would have taken tremendous power. Not only had it been in place for untold years, the power of a primal such as Zodiark is nigh immeasurable. It would have taken a veritable shipload of aether to see his soul freed..

And yet this place is strange and unknowable, and aether here is not as she knows it back home. Mayhaps that shift is all that it took. She would ask if he were jesting, but for all his faults, Emet has never lied to them. Certainly not directly, like this.

"That.. unbelievable.."

It should have been impossible, he would agree. And yet, here he stands. There is no doubt in his mind that Zodiark no longer holds sway over his thoughts but it is a terrible thing to be fully aware of one's sins. Half of him wishes Felih had left well enough alone and let him die in relative peace. Why release him into this anguish? He had only ended up craving death even more.

"If you think I lie, go and speak to Felih," he says testily. "'Twas all his doing."

Understandably, it's not an experience he wants to recount. How can he describe the raw feeling of having his soul scoured from inside out? Of having what feels like a fundamental part of his soul ripped out by the seams? Of everything dark suddenly seeming light again, and yet somehow heavier than ever?

"No.. I believe you."

She has no real reason not to. Emet may be her enemy in nearly every way, but he has always been truthful, and she sees no valid reason he would have to lie about something like this. Mayhaps it might make her less inclined to suspect him, but really, that is not reason enough. Alisaie can only assume he must be speaking the truth.

Gods, the implications of that, though..

"What do you mean.. his doing?"

A derisive sound escapes him and he throws up his hands.

"What else could I possibly mean? Felih was the one who removed it - although removed is putting it quite kindly," he says with some bitterness. "I did not closely examine the magic he used. I was in rather too much pain to do so. Especially as he had to betray my trust in order to succeed."

He sighs though, shoulders slumping. Though he has since had to forgive Felih for the method, recovering hasn't been easy.

"I don't wish to speak further on it," he mutters. "Ask him for the details."

It was done.. that simply? By one person?

Alisaie can only assume that it must have something to do with this world's magicks, and perhaps, the sheer distance between master and servant had weakened the bond enough that it was more easily severed. How it was done matters less than the fact that it was done at all - not that she had thought it impossible, of course, all things considered, but..

Her shock at last beginning to ebb, Alisaie shakes her head and sighs deeply. She certainly has much to think about.

"Well.. nevertheless, yes, our agreement stands. I am more than happy to avoid you at all costs."

"Good."

Considering the matter finally settled, he turns to leave. More shades of his past stride by, causing him to flinch, but he shakes himself and strides determinedly past them. Everywhere he goes he's haunted it seems. As if he needs any further reminders about what he's lost.

The guilt is punishment enough.

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EVENT ✨ Be Careful What You Wish For

it is bound to happen..

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method was used before 5.4 came out so /VAGUE HANDWAVING OF DETAILS

IT'S FINE sweeps it under the rug..

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