TBA: Every Story Begins with a Name

Suggested Music: Chrono Symphonic - Manifest Destiny

The Lap, 5 Ascending Air

"Baldur."

The burly bartender uttered the foreign name in a characteristically gruff tone (Although Baldur was of Delzahn birth, his chosen title was of Haslanti origin, where Skytongue was the language of choice).

"Baldur, eh?"

The half-interested patron polished off the cheap lager, letting the stein clang emptily back onto the counter top. The bartender, though scornful of his customer's disinterest, continued.

"They say he's one of the Shining Ones. He doesn't come t'town much, but I know a family whose entire farmland he saved. 'Fought off the ghost of an angry ancestor who was tryin' t'raise hell there. From what I hear, he operates mostly in th'mountains west o'here."

The patron's attention had been piqued by the tender's speculation.

"Y'don't say, a Shining One, here?"

The bartender slammed his right hand onto the bar top, though not severely, this time admonishing the man's enthusiasm. As he spoke, he began to refill the man's stein, this time with a helping of red ale, perhaps as a gesture of good will toward a fellow Illuminated One.

"Shh! We should be safe here, but you never know who's listening. And yes, here. Sort of - like I said, he works mostly to the West... I don't know what he does, honestly... "

The bartender scratched his head for a moment, recovering from his trail-off with admirable vigor.

"... But you can bet we've not seen the last of him!"

The patron smirked. Though his skepticism was tangible, so too was an almost childlike sense of hope. As strong as his doubts were, he wanted it to be true badly enough that he couldn't help but lend the theory some credence.

Another of the bar's patron, also a familiar face, took the nearest open seat on the right. He leaned in as he dropped a few nuggets of jade on the counter.

"Baldur, right? Word on the street says he was in Northleg last month..."

At any ordinary tavern, even in The Lap, it would be looked upon as unusual that so many patrons should be familiar with the name Baldur, and the rumors and truths that surrounded it. 'The Mile-High Broil', however, was no ordinary tavern. Located in the heart of The Lap's Fold region, The Mile-High Broil doubled as a safehouse for the Cult of the Illuminated, albeit a small one.

The Mile-High Broil was a cramped affair, built straight into a narrow alley formed by two of the storehouses so common in the Fold. The construction was shoddy, and it looked as though it wouldn't hold up well in a storm. Fortunately, weather was fairly calm in the lap, and its larger warehouse cousins provided a fair degree of elemental protection to the tiny building. Its interior was surprisingly well-lit for a tavern -- even a commensurately small number of torches kept it bright enough to read even in its shadiest corner. Enough effort had been put into its construction to give it a wooden floor and roof, but few other amenities had been provided - most of the tables and the bar were all made of the same wood (it was clear the bar had been built quickly, and all from the same load of lumber), while the chairs and stools appeared to have been lifted from other establishments in the area. Nevertheless, the mood was almost always jovial - the Illuminated were some of the Lap's most optimistic citizens. A lone olive branch was displayed quaintly behind the counter, hanging alone near one of the keg barrels. Unknown to any but those within the organization, this signaled the tavern as a safehouse for the Cult of the Illuminated. In the event of a persecuted individual or Shining One needing asylum, four bedrooms had been dug out and furnished beneath the Mile-High Broil, the keys to which were possessed by the bartender on duty.

---

The young Sidereals emerged from Celestial Gate 52 eager to embark upon what may have been their most significant assignment to date. As suggested by their mission dossier, the Fold region in the Lap held the highest population density of Cult of the Illuminated members, and it seemed like a reasonable place to begin a search for a man who'd dissapeared from the Loom of Fate in the past month; Baldur was known to have limited association with a number of Cultists in the city, and, as rumor had it, had allegedly slain a hungry ghost attacking an agricultural family's farm, cousins of the bartender at none other than the Mile-High Broil.

The Sidereals shot each other wayward glances of skepticism as they approached the shoddy construction, hoping for something that may have been a bit more accommodating -- the Mile-High Broil took its name for a reason, and the 1,000 foot hike had not been a pleasant one, even for the Chosen of the Maidens. Nevertheless, the skepticism was fleeting - the beginning of a mission was always exciting, and the pair knew there was work to be done.

The post will stop here, just in case there was anything the two of you wanted to do or say before actually entering the tavern. We should also sort out resplendent destinies - perhaps we can set a few minutes aside tonight (It is technically Friday) and do that.

---

Resplendent Destinies: The Rising Smoke: Duration 1 Season, 5 Endurance Points. The Sword: Duration 1 Season, 2 Endurance Points.

Starfall paused at the side of the street, eying the Mile-High Broil from the shadows of the poorly lit streets. Without a doubt nicer accommodations would have been preferred, but it was far from the worst place his journeys had carried him to. As he lightly leaned against a neighboring building he looked to Magistrate as he pulled a thin hand rolled cigarette from inside his robe and tucked it into the corner of his mouth, chewing on the end instead of lighting it for now. The mask of The Sword slipped over him, turning him into a hopeless traveler, a man of martial prowess who had failed and lost everything, a man with little left and no sign of hope. Donning the resplendent destiny The Sword and activating the charm Prior Warning with personal essence.

"We'd probably be better off going in separately. I'll go in first and sit down at the bar, come on in a few minutes and ask the bartender some questions. If it's our man he might know something about Baldur."

He pushed off the wall of the building with a bit of a shrug, the plan was a bit raw but they didn't know exactly what to expect. Besides for this it didn't need to be all scripted out, it wouldn't have been any fun if they knew everything that was going to happen.

"Unless of course you've got a better plan?"

--FyreFly 17:17, 25 March 2009 (EDT)

---

Resplendent Destiny: The Gull (Duration: 1 Season, 5 Endurance Points)

Activating resplendency: Joyous Grasshopper Spirit (effect lasts until 1 Ascending Water) Effect: For the purposes of regaining Willpower, the Sidereal gains an additional Motivation: "Enjoy myself and fully express it." In addition, he reduces by 1 the target number of his Conviction rolls to regain Willpower.

Magistrate smiled at his Sidereal companion. He loved to drink, and he loved to talk. This was going to be a good evening. "Go on in," he said, "I'll just be a moment."

After Starfall left for the tavern, Magistrate decided to take a closer look around. He walked around the perimeter of the building, noting other entrances, windows, or other interesting tidbits of information. While he expected no trouble today, he had the feeling this wouldn't be the only time they were going to end up here. Best to get to know the place, he concluded. While behind the tavern, he spends 6 motes of essence, calling upon his power to protect him from unexpected threatening events by activating Prior Warning. He then spins his Dreamcatcher staff around, watching it as it transforms into a crude staff. He dons the resplendent destiny The Gull, taking the form of a wayward, carefree traveller named Brennus Windstead.

He waited for a few moments, to give Starfall some time to get settled. He was back in the main alleyway now, near the entrance to the tavern. He laughed loudly and waved to a few passers-by, who paid no attention. It's time for a drink, he decided, and he entered the Broil, staff in hand.

Kirkland 03:15, 22 March 2009 (EDT)

---

Starfall pushed the door open quickly, so it flew around it's hinges until it hit the back wall with a thud, but meandered into the well lit tavern slowly. He headed straight for the bar, as if finding purpose for the first time in ages, he slunk into a stool and leaned against the counter heavily as he thudded an open palm upon the counter to get the bartender's attention.

"Hey buddy, how about you mix me up a Sandstorm? Dry and hot. And keep'em comin." He called out across the bar in a melancholy tone at the tender who just turned his attention that way at the pounding. As the tender approached he plucked the unlit cigarette from the corner of his lips between thumb and index finger and waved it about absently. "Who ya got sleep with to get a light around here?"

The bartender set the custom made local drink on the counter in front of him as he struck a match against the underside of the bar, he held it out to Starfall who stuck the cigarette back in his mouth as he leaned across the bar to light it. He leaned back with an exhale of smoke, and expectant look to the bartender who dropped the match to the liquor catching it on fire in the glass, shaking out the match and discarding it as he moved on to the next customer.

--FyreFly 16:58, 27 March 2009 (EDT)

After disposing of the match used to light the new customer's sandstorm, the bartender turned his attention to bar's other unfamiliar patron. Though his gaze remained loosely fixed on Magistrate, he made two brief pauses on his way to Magistrate's seat to attend to the needs of regular patrons. As his rounds came to Magistrate, he stopped, looking across the bar to the traveler.

"What can I get f'r ya', stranger?"

He spoke as lifted a handled, pewter stein (of a considerably different make than the one from which the man next to Magistrate was drinking, further enforcing the notion that many of this bar's furnishings were "on loan" from other establishments) from beneath the counter top, tossing it from hand to hand as he listened for Magistrate's drink order. After he placed it, the bartender set about filling it as he continued speaking.

"I haven't seen you 'round here before. Most folks with the gumption to come all out to the Lap don't bother with the Fold - what brings you around here?"

The bartender turned around, placing the stein on the counter; it was full to the brim, a bit of foam spilling over the side as the vessel contacted the bar top. The bartender watched the foam runoff carve a path down the stein's surface for a moment, briefly commenting before Magistrate answered his question.

"You're not the only unfamiliar face around here tonight..."

As voice trailed off, his gaze turned briefly toward Starfall, though he kept an ear open for Magistrate's story.