INTRO LOG: FACE OFF

[hadrielmods]

Who: New arrivals and everyone else!
What: The intro log for November. Don't get your face eaten!
Where: The colosseum and all around the city.
When: November 10th-17th
Warnings: Monster-related violence, people lamps, general unpleasantness, mass confusion.

You wake up on the hard earth of the colosseum. By the state of things and the various aches and pains in your body, you've probably been passed out there for awhile. A few things should immediately become clear to you upon an initial assessment.

1. You're not alone
2. You're near other people who look to be in a similar state.
3. You're also near an assortment of human shaped lamps.
4. You're also near something that skitters off into the shadows of the colosseum.

Of all of these alarming things, the skittery object might be your largest concern. Be wary when turning corners or shutting out the lights: the Hunters work best when your vision is obscured, so their gelatinous form is even harder to spot. Their main goal will be to kill people of course, though they prefer to hide in corners and smaller rooms. Watch out when trying to work through the halls of the colosseum to find the outdoors- they're surprisingly quick, and they prefer to kill their prey by opening their face-flaps and wrapping their mouths around your head. Fun!

More information on Hunters can be found here!

Second largest concern? Maybe it's the people lamps. Maybe it's the actual people around you. Whatever it is, be sure to familiarize yourself with it quickly. The devil you know is better than the devil you don't, after all.

All done with the horrible monsters and awkward greetings? Try your hand at exploring the rest of the city! Find a house, find a new monster, or simply scavenge for supplies until your little heart is content. Good luck, and enjoy your stay in Hadriel!

► This log covers November 10th-17th.
► Feel free to make your own logs, as well!
► All characters now arrive with phones that have network communication.
► Please put your character's name and open/closed in the subject line of your starters!

Comments

[whichend]

If the man is going to raise a bow towards her, arrow and all, she's going to draw her sword. Two can play this game. She has to crouch to keep her balance, but she's leaning forward, balanced on her toes, in order to look assertive. She doesn't have much in the way of height, but that doesn't mean she isn't going to try and be imposing.

She can't give him a true name, even if she trusted him. She simply doesn't have one. She has plenty of false ones, though. A name for every face she's worn, and then some.

The exchange won't be fair, of course, if he gives her a true name, but she can give him the closest thing she's got to that. She's stuck with one alias since she's been here. An old favorite. The Queen, the conqueror with a thousand ships. The wolf.

"My name is Nymeria," she says. Now, it's the man's turn. She stiffens, ready if he claims he's a Lannister. She must always be ready.

[orcsurfing]

Few were places where he wasn't known, and never before had Legolas felt any need for the use of an alias, a name other than his own. And that was the name he gave, ever watchful but with better judgement of the situation now. She only unsheathed her sword in response to his reaction, which was fair in an attempt to defend herself. And her stance was good too, Legolas could read the confidence and experience written into all of her body language even seeing it so briefly.

He relaxed his posture, then, when the name was given - unknown to him entirely, but at least not a name of known enemy - he removed the arrow from the string to return it to the quiver. The ache in his back lingered, Legolas exhaled slowly, quietly.

"Well met then, Nymeria." Cordial and respectful, "I am Legolas, son of Thranduil and I do not wish to fight you."

The rest of the titles he left out, Prince of Woodland Realm, Lord of Ithilien, Prince of Maechenibryth, the Wandering Prince, none of these mattered here after all.

[whichend]

Arya nods, satisfied. It's possible he could be lying, of course, and Arya doesn't trust him completely, but she knows he isn't an immediate threat. His name seems to be from a language that the Lannisters do not speak, and that is a good sign. Lannisters do not bother to learn other languages, after all. They're terrible, horrible lions who drown out the voices of all the other creatures, especially the voices that are not similar to their own. A wolf's howl is for the good of its pak, but a lion roars out of cruelty.

She jumps off the ledge and lands at his feet, crouched down. She looks up at him, and it's clear that those are not the features of a Lannister. No Lannister she knows has curved ears, not even the Imp. "Well met," she repeats, less stiff and wary than before, but with a coldness that is not typical of most people her age. "And that is good," she adds, "Because I fight back, no matter what you might assume."