Re: Intense Struggle! (Round 4 - Old Salem)
02-20-2011, 03:16 AM
Originally posted on MSPA by SleepingOrange.
Clara was understandably taken aback by the sudden halting of everything around her. The oddly-dressed man who had ostensibly made it happen began to approach, clearly waiting for an answer. The nun hesitated, unsure of how to respond or even whether she should explain anything; what if this was some kind of typical witch-hunting test? That seemed pretty unlikely, though, since those people who had been the target of "Madeline's" wrath were pretty clearly dead, but... There was just no way to know what was typical or acceptable here.
In the end, she just stammered out "Er, well, I'm...", shifting nervously as he moved slowly closer. It was apparent that the man had no easier time of moving around than Clara did, which was a small relief; at the very least, if her displayed aggressive intent, she wouldn't be at the significant disadvantage of being markedly slower and less agile than he was.
Fortunately for the old woman, he apparently took her confusion and reluctance to speak as a cue to fill the silence himself. "Worry not," came his soothing, calm voice. "You have nothing to fear from me; you are more likely to come to harm by the citizens' hands if they discover you are not who or what you appear."
Clara's eyebrows raised with mild surprise. "You can see who I am? I was told we would be indistinguishable from the people we were supposed to appear to be."
He shook his head slightly. "No, by all accounts you look to be the local blacksmith, and nothing can visually convince me otherwise. I am simply more adept at realizing when I am being misdirected than the average man. It is interesting to me that you and the girl whom I would yesterday have called Madeline are clearly veiled by the same source and method, yet you are apparently attempting to stop her and protect the townspeople. This is the primary reason I didn't simply neutralize you both at the start."
The old nun made a contemplative noise under her breath as the strange man continued. "So in the interest of not potentially making things worse than they already are, I'd very much like to know what's going on. I presume you and your opponent are not from the Order?"
Clara shrugged as best as she could in the thick air. "I doubt it. I'm not sure what order you're talking about so... Probably not. I'm still not sure I should say what I am doing here, but–"
"Well, I wouldn't really expect you to admit it if you were with the Order, but... Clearly I'm not going to get anything out of you if you don't trust me. It's in both of our best interests, presumably, that I explain.
I am Reverend Nathaniel Greene, and I'm what the people here call a witch. That is to say, I have any ability that might be considered unusual or supernatural by the average person. The dominant religion in most of the civilized world right now explicitly forbids magic and condemns its practitioners, saying they gained their abilities from trafficking with Satan, the Lord of Hell. I and others like me in this area formed a group, to support and protect each other, and ensure that those who would wish us harm for our nature or knowledge do not discover our presence.
Some years back, a group of our members decided that a better use of our abilities would be to subjugate those who had feared and oppressed us; naturally, the vast majority of the group was against such evil and barbarism. Those who desired domination splintered off, began calling themselves the Order of Osiris, and working to expose those of us who disagreed with them to the general public. This current witch-hunt was instigated by the Order in an attempt to further weaken us and Salem as a whole.
It's all we can do to protect ourselves and keep some semblance of order and balance here, which of course means that your intrusion is both a surprising and unwelcome one. Overt use of magic like this is bound to have lasting consequences and seriously endanger everyone here. So I'll ask again: who are you, why are you here, and what are your goals?"
Clara considered the question for a moment, but at her most fundamental level, she was a friendly, trusting person. Deception and the like didn't come easily to her, and she was having a hard time rationalizing keeping anything from this man who had told her more than he really had to.
And so she told him.
She told him everything, hours or days (who could tell?) of kidnapping and dicta and combat and backstabbing and heartbreak came tumbling out in the golden stillness of the Reverend's spell.
And when it was over, he looked pensive, eventually volunteering "It would be ideal for both of us if certain of your companions could be quickly eliminated."
It was unspoken but understood that the implicit message there was "I could kill you now and it would be the best for me and my group", but it seemed that Greene was not the type to murder in cold blood.
The two conversed for what would have been a few minutes more had time been flowing, laying plans, considering options, and worrying. When all that could reasonably be said had been, Greene nodded and walked away, ready to do his part in the pair's plan. Clara positioned herself and waited for the time-stop to fade, raising the cane again. When the gold tinge disappeared, she struck.
The fight continued; Madeline turned someone into a newt, which seemed to confuse her as much as anyone else, confusion Clara took as an opportunity to strike again. She wasn't really doing significant damage to her witchy foe, but it didn't matter.
All she had to do was stall for a while.
Clara was understandably taken aback by the sudden halting of everything around her. The oddly-dressed man who had ostensibly made it happen began to approach, clearly waiting for an answer. The nun hesitated, unsure of how to respond or even whether she should explain anything; what if this was some kind of typical witch-hunting test? That seemed pretty unlikely, though, since those people who had been the target of "Madeline's" wrath were pretty clearly dead, but... There was just no way to know what was typical or acceptable here.
In the end, she just stammered out "Er, well, I'm...", shifting nervously as he moved slowly closer. It was apparent that the man had no easier time of moving around than Clara did, which was a small relief; at the very least, if her displayed aggressive intent, she wouldn't be at the significant disadvantage of being markedly slower and less agile than he was.
Fortunately for the old woman, he apparently took her confusion and reluctance to speak as a cue to fill the silence himself. "Worry not," came his soothing, calm voice. "You have nothing to fear from me; you are more likely to come to harm by the citizens' hands if they discover you are not who or what you appear."
Clara's eyebrows raised with mild surprise. "You can see who I am? I was told we would be indistinguishable from the people we were supposed to appear to be."
He shook his head slightly. "No, by all accounts you look to be the local blacksmith, and nothing can visually convince me otherwise. I am simply more adept at realizing when I am being misdirected than the average man. It is interesting to me that you and the girl whom I would yesterday have called Madeline are clearly veiled by the same source and method, yet you are apparently attempting to stop her and protect the townspeople. This is the primary reason I didn't simply neutralize you both at the start."
The old nun made a contemplative noise under her breath as the strange man continued. "So in the interest of not potentially making things worse than they already are, I'd very much like to know what's going on. I presume you and your opponent are not from the Order?"
Clara shrugged as best as she could in the thick air. "I doubt it. I'm not sure what order you're talking about so... Probably not. I'm still not sure I should say what I am doing here, but–"
"Well, I wouldn't really expect you to admit it if you were with the Order, but... Clearly I'm not going to get anything out of you if you don't trust me. It's in both of our best interests, presumably, that I explain.
I am Reverend Nathaniel Greene, and I'm what the people here call a witch. That is to say, I have any ability that might be considered unusual or supernatural by the average person. The dominant religion in most of the civilized world right now explicitly forbids magic and condemns its practitioners, saying they gained their abilities from trafficking with Satan, the Lord of Hell. I and others like me in this area formed a group, to support and protect each other, and ensure that those who would wish us harm for our nature or knowledge do not discover our presence.
Some years back, a group of our members decided that a better use of our abilities would be to subjugate those who had feared and oppressed us; naturally, the vast majority of the group was against such evil and barbarism. Those who desired domination splintered off, began calling themselves the Order of Osiris, and working to expose those of us who disagreed with them to the general public. This current witch-hunt was instigated by the Order in an attempt to further weaken us and Salem as a whole.
It's all we can do to protect ourselves and keep some semblance of order and balance here, which of course means that your intrusion is both a surprising and unwelcome one. Overt use of magic like this is bound to have lasting consequences and seriously endanger everyone here. So I'll ask again: who are you, why are you here, and what are your goals?"
Clara considered the question for a moment, but at her most fundamental level, she was a friendly, trusting person. Deception and the like didn't come easily to her, and she was having a hard time rationalizing keeping anything from this man who had told her more than he really had to.
And so she told him.
She told him everything, hours or days (who could tell?) of kidnapping and dicta and combat and backstabbing and heartbreak came tumbling out in the golden stillness of the Reverend's spell.
And when it was over, he looked pensive, eventually volunteering "It would be ideal for both of us if certain of your companions could be quickly eliminated."
It was unspoken but understood that the implicit message there was "I could kill you now and it would be the best for me and my group", but it seemed that Greene was not the type to murder in cold blood.
The two conversed for what would have been a few minutes more had time been flowing, laying plans, considering options, and worrying. When all that could reasonably be said had been, Greene nodded and walked away, ready to do his part in the pair's plan. Clara positioned herself and waited for the time-stop to fade, raising the cane again. When the gold tinge disappeared, she struck.
The fight continued; Madeline turned someone into a newt, which seemed to confuse her as much as anyone else, confusion Clara took as an opportunity to strike again. She wasn't really doing significant damage to her witchy foe, but it didn't matter.
All she had to do was stall for a while.