Topic: A Shadow Over Dockside

Vanion Shadowcast

Date: 2009-12-07 01:52 EST
[This is a response to the RDI Playable found at this link: http://rdi.dragonsmark.com/forums/viewtopic.php"p=114346#114346 ]

Somewhere in the catacomb-like sewers that flow beneath the slums of Badside, the rats were thriving; there were fresh corpses to eat. The early onset of the plague had ravaged the still-breathing Acolyte population of the Church of Myr'Khul, many of them poor, human magic-users. As the rats flooded the black-robed corpses and nibbled at their discoloured flesh, Mischaelna and the Baron of Dockside, Vanion Knightwood, watched from the nearby shadows.

The vampiress, naught more than a young girl in appearance, spoke first. She looked up to her father and mused, half-heartedly, "Brother Ignatius is studying the disease in Ivan. Ivan is chained to Warehouse Thirty-Seven's back wall, but seems to have survived. Should I work with him to find a cure, Father?" "No", the shadowy elf replied in a strikingly beautiful voice, without looking away from the rats' feast of flesh. "Learn as much as you can without endangering yourself, but make no move to find a cure. There is more power in knowledge than there is in kindness, daughter ....and the devout of Myr'Khul need live no more than do you or I."

Without another word, the small vampiress dissolved into mist and was lost in the polluted steam which rose from the bile of the sewer-river. Vanion Knightwood made good on his word; he quietly incanted a dark prayer, and the rats promptly scattered from the corpses of the plagued Acolytes. One rat, fatter and more dim-witted than the rest, was too slow to get away; the zombified servant of Myr'Khul's hand jerked up suddenly and snatched it. A moment later, dull teeth tore the rat in half, hungrily.

And above, somewhere in the night, was the lost cry of a young boy - mourning the loss of his mother to an unknown disease.

Rhaine

Date: 2009-12-07 22:32 EST
"I take my words back, partner. Your design appears to be beautiful, and the accumulators work perfectly. Enough to see the reason the Lord has kept you in existence, despite using diseases being more like Morrigu modus operandi." "I'm surprised by the quiet. Looks like this city is ignoring the fact of disease." "It's not that surprising, Rhaine. Mortals tend to fear such thoughts and calm themselves with the idea that the plague won't get to them. Foolish, but who are we to deny them the right of reckless choice." "But it will get them, sooner or later. Those who survive, will end up being both immune and activated. I'm just upset there is no publicity, and no chance for a good chess-game."

Arms crossed on her chest, she paced back and forth around her quarters in the Temple. Smooth black velvet-like fabric of her dress flowed with the move, bare shoulders and arms radiantly pale against that blackness. Bare feet submerging in the soft lining of the floor, letting no sound betray the nervous pace.

"Refreshing to see you back to the shape you were in Clandestine," the devil spoke approvingly, "Looks like you have finally recovered." "I have even more work done already than you think, Sael."

And there was a dark promise in these words, in her vivid voice. But next she beamed a grin full of mischief.

"Shall I send a note to old ....neighbors?" "Not in your handwriting, I hope?"

Vanion Shadowcast

Date: 2009-12-17 17:57 EST
The Rhy'Din Post Article]

It had been several years since the spiritual leader of Myr'Khul had been the willing focus of a television camera; to an unliving immortal, though, several years was less than one heartbeat and just as insignificant.

-*-*-*-*-

The Baron of Dockside steps up to the pulpit and pulls back the hood of his black robe, making visible his distinctly elven features. He places both of his hands on the surface of the podium and clears his throat. The vocalized sound is purely symbolic - he appears neither nervous, nor does he even have the need to swallow. The crowd roars, some in elated cheers, and others with a hateful jeering. The press conference is set near the border of the Badside and the Old Temple District, which in recent weeks has been hit by a string of crime and religious violence.

Vanion speaks clearly, and his words are soft and easy on the ears. He has no microphone, but his voice carries on the wind to even the furthest of the crowd with just as much ease as though he did.

"There are many of you who are frightened. You hear of this strange disease - or perhaps have had loved ones afflicted by it. You demand answers, and how righteously you do! Today, Health Minister Marie Ann Moore has stated that they are doing everything in their power to protect the people of Rhy'Din. Who are these mysterious benefactors, I wonder" Do you not wish to know" These are the same body of officials who seek to ensure the passage of Proposition Thirty-Seven!"

The Baron's proclamation causes a chorus of jeers and heckles to rise from the spectating crowd, and thus, he pauses a moment before he continues to give his speech.

"These are the same people who desire to round up magic-users and license them, tag them, take their individual rights! The same who desire to force the people of Dockside, and all of Rhy'Din, to register the very weapons that they depend on for protection - in a city that is corrupted with violence, churning in conflict, and sorrowed by tragedy after tragedy. Do you truly believe that these people, these shadow politicians, that your own Governor, that even the other Barons of the Arena Council are doing what they can to protect you" I think not!"

The Baron raises a clenched fist before him as he attempts to fire up the crowd's passion, and those gathered continue to grow louder with their angry protests. "The Clergy of Myr'Khul has been working to expose the nature and specific threats of this disease, and what we have learned thus far may surprise you. This disease does not act as one brought here through happen-stance from a far away land, but instead attacks with the traits of a true genetic weapon. Indeed, our earliest studies have indicated to us that the most afflicted of the plague, those whose lives are most endangered, are humans and other races with innate magical ability. How ironic, then, that the very people who wish to round up and license magic-users, are those who claim to be protecting the magic-users suffering from this deadly attack; ask yourselves, do you trust them' Do you trust the enigmatic Matt, your Governor, who has yet to show any concern over this matter" Or is it possible, is it probable, that the very same people who seek to increase their unspoken stranglehold on your freedoms have concocted a plague to attack magic-users and the poor, when their Proposition Thirty-Seven proved to gain them little momentum with their hidden agenda?"

Someone from the crowd shouts over the buzz of the angry and the poor, "They've done this to us!"

The Baron holds out his hand in the general direction of the woman before he speaks once again, his words delivered keenly to different sections of the crowd.

"Ask yourselves the hard questions. The Clergy of Myr'Khul anticipates that the disease will continue to spread north and eastward, and unless it is stopped, will move soon from Dockside to the Old Temple District. Will hundreds, will thousands die before those who sit on their money and power act' Or will you stand up today and support me in my quest to end this disease, to protect Dockside from the rich who would exploit ....and to ensure that never, that never, will those who seek to oppress our freedoms pass Proposition Thirty-Seven, or any other motion. Will you stand up and be willing to fight if they come knocking at your door" Will you put aside religious differences and pre-conceived bias to battle the current establishment's attempt to turn Rhy'Din into a police state?"

With atypical passion seeping into the usually softly-spoken elf's voice, the Baron shows strength in the finality of his speech, as it draws to its conclusion.

"Today, I announce that I intend fully to run for Governor of the City when the elections come once again. Though I do not believe that government can exist without corruption, I am tired of being restrained from being able to offer freedom to those who seek it. I will fight the shadow-politicians, the mega-corperations, the two-faced Governor, and to the people of Dockside - I hope to take what should be the most enterprising and successful District of the City, and give it back to the people! Support me, and let me support you. The Church of Myr'Khul will continue to study and fight this disease, even when the self-proclaimed noble leaders of the city ignore the poor who are suffering, even in the face of their Christmas season itself. I will continue the fight for not only my own freedom, but yours as well. In the meantime, be wary of contact with others and keep yourselves private as much as possible. Wisdom can slow the current of the plague's spread, until we are able to best it. May you be ....blessed."

And with those final words, the Baron steps away from the podium to the sounds of reporters' questions, the crowd's cheering and booing, and the loud noise of an incoming barge's horn somewhere to the west - near the Docks.

Rhaine

Date: 2009-12-28 02:16 EST
Gem-like indifferent eyes stared into the crystalline dome over the room at the top of one of three spires. "Repeat that, Sael. I love to hear the sound."

"First cases reported in Old Temple. Over two hundred deaths in Dockside already, and more coming up. Vanion appears to have tried to use the disease for his political goals, and recommends to stay isolated as much as possible."

"Smart elf. That might help, if they also keep rats, cats, vampires and strangers out. And use filtered and boiled water, which is hardly common here."

"Governor Simon has spoken against isolation, and against believing Vanion in general. As if he believes that it would do nearly no good, and that Vanion is merely playing his own games of making others believe his words." "WHAT THE ....?" Rhaine seemed to be genuinely surprised and amused. "You mean that a dhoine from a technologically advanced world is ignoring the damn basics for mere political reasons"!" she nearly laughed. "No measures taken, no financing doctors, no hospitalization"! No quarantine"! Just because the first SANE suggestion comes from Vanion"! That's such a sweet example of dhoine ignoring the voice of common reason when listening to their lust for power....Sael, I'm tempted to contact the local doctors. Just to see Simon's reaction"

"Isn't it too early for that, partner" They need to get a good taste of your design." "Well, I have to show the simians that unlike them, we do engage in serious research. And while it takes them weeks and months to do something..." she chuckled, cutting off the end of her remark. "Who do you plan to contact?" "Might be that doctor from Riverview, what was her name....Doctor Valconan, if I remember. Though judging by her frequent visits to Arena, she may hardly have time for serious medical practice. Might also talk to Chryrie, she seems to have enough brains to understand when spoken to". "Approved."

Rhaine

Date: 2009-12-28 02:16 EST
Deciding to spend a few hours exercising was definitely a good idea. Having left Aquira and Keith in the small lab we have equipped in the transformed warehouse, I went to duel.

Doc Valconan was already there, however something prevented me from contacting her. Scanning my thoughts I found which one led to this conclusion: comparing how much time she spends at the Arenas with the total hours and human need for sleep. She might not be interested in doing anything useful. Perhaps she's still called a doctor, but she wastes more time at the Arena than most local duelists, more even than Farek used to. She's stuck in this silly sport, in the web of local men, and other pesky distractions. So....do I have a choice"

Structured memory was easy to browse. The search went back a few days. Here it is: a being with built-in scanner which asked Dr. Valconan for a job. Name" Kelathe. Preference? Diagnostics. Excellent. And here she is, right in the Arena.

The being turned out more intelligent than most local simians. I've supplied her with minimum necessary information, and contact address of our lab. She might meet Aquira and Keith, and I'm sure of impression they create. Yes, this is nearly an ideal route to use.

Rhaine

Date: 2010-01-09 20:30 EST
Rhaine didn't even bother to change from her bioprotection suit. Good that Mentari were always keeping aesthetics in mind, and it looked quite good on her. One-piece matte blackness, with a silver line encircling her neck and shoulders, that was so much different from the clumsy stuff local epidemiologists had to wear. Arriving at the Annex, she found Governor already there and in the center of attention. Recognizing most of these duelist folks was a matter of using structured memory. Finally, she found a place to watch Governor and his wife for a while. How do dhoine get so careless, she thought. She has seen Matt in the Dockside a few times, but the district wasn't even closed to outsiders! Did the dhoine not think about possible spread of the disease" Where were teams in bioprotectors, why wasn't the district isolated" Why were those who do venture into Dockside still in the Arena and careless about others"

"Evening. Please excuse me for bringing up an unpleasant subject. Do you happen to know a research team with primary focus on current filovirus outbreak?" she finally decided to speak to Koy. In the end, if men were careless, women should have some brains to use and memory to keep the information"

However either Koy was unable to compare facts with impressions, or too vexed with the tone vampiress has chosen. She reacted as if Rhaine was dancing with a red cape and shaking it violently. It was becoming too entertaining to miss. Vampiress combined pleasure and work, of course, otherwise she'd have to waste more time at the Annex, and while supplying information for Matt, retained the tone that got Koy nearly steaming from her ears. Finally she handed a datapad with information gathered by her own team to Matt, explaining the necessary minimum. In the end, if local research teams were any good, they would appreciate full maps of viral genome taken for different density of magical field, comparisons with previously found diseases occurring in several other countries, detailed description of reproduction and reactions to traditional and magical treatment. "Detailed enough for simians" was the best description, actually. And now she was watching Matt's reaction.

"I'll be sure and get this into hands where it can do the most good. Thank you for bringing it to me."

Excellent, Governor. At least not trusting a source that comes in from nowhere. I wonder how many lives more it would cost you, she thought. So far it's been closer to second hundred. How many more would die before your teams find use for the information I've presented" And would you tell anyone that this information comes from me?