Cygnus

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Surgeon Cry Wolf

Cygnus - The Swan - Pink - While when they had joined company, the warriors from the graceful city of diamonds, many a man had chortled at their rich uniform and color. The first man that had burned from occult fire, and the second hand merely collapsed hands to his head, palms pressing his eyes til they had burst. A wretched, stomach turning sight... None have dared show scornful mirth since.

Weaver Memories (Link)

1:

["Mother they're a pest!"

"I don't care! Don't you ever throw a rock at one again! Do you want a curse?"

You stick out your tongue at the squidrat. Its bright, intelligent eyes fix on you from the corner of the room. It chitters at you, as if reprimanding as well, shakes one tentacle and then squeezes itself into a half-a-centimeter crack in the wall and is gone.]

2:

[[Memories of childhood always seem to be this way, the dull trails of things you never really cared for and brilliant flashes of perfect recollection of anything that caught your mad wonder. This one seemed as scattered as any you recall, your tiny hands gripping the soft pink fabric of your mother's robes as she wound through the crowded market.

Many accents, many languages, many colors... all of them blurred as your gaze drifted, always caught up to the great, sparkling spires of the city. Normally, memories like this would simply end with the distinct, too clear image of the great tower glittering in high noon, or your mother's comment of the heat and getting your robes readjusted...

But it blurs, jolts, you feel panic, terror as a hand drags you back. Your mother calls out in shock and outrage, pointing at something above you. And then goes silent quickly, face pale and accusing hand trembling.

"My lord..." She seems to be shaking. You don't understand. "There seems to be some mistake. My child bears no mark."

"Not with the magic, witch." You start to struggle, reaching out for your mother. She seems so far, and the arm around you tightens. It's a little hard to breathe. "Be happy you're not coming as well. The [King] suffers no traitors to a crown."

"Please! He's my only son! My only child!" She lunges towards you, and several people push her back. She screams, rage and fear distinct. There's a smell of ozone and lightning begins to crackle and you are pulled back, whoever is carrying you beginning to run.

Blurring roads, blurring people... Hiccuping between sobs, and staring up at the high tower in the sun. You have never seen it this close before.]]

New Uniform Description

Concept: Japanese jedi

Top piece: Hooded, bell-sleeved tunic that laces at the neck (m), kimono-esque T-shirt with butterfly sleeves

Bottom piece: Knee-length pants (m), ankle-length wrap-around skirt (f)

Outer piece: Kimono-esque vest (m), hip-length haori (f)

Accessory: long scarf

Footwear: Nice ankle boots, socks

[There is the gentle sound of a shuttle moving through taut thread, and as the memory settles deep, your eyes open to the familiar garments of your kin on both yourself and those around you, dyed vividly bright.

Cygnus' garments are thin and delicate, but no less durable for that beauty. The men have long, sweeping sleeves made from spider-silk with just a pinch of panna for strength. These sleeves are attached to a tunic that laces comfortably at the neck. Over the top of this is a durable vest that folds (left over right, you're sure of it) over the bright tunic. The tunic appears to be hooded as well, though as for who would get the most use out of such a thing in an underground place .... For the women, shorter, more tightly tailored sleeves continue into a wrap that folds over the torso. They receive a hip-length jacket made from a spider-silk weave similar to the one used in the male version's sleeves. Both outfits are tied at the waist with a long, flowing sash. As for the bottom piece, the outfits diverge again; the men have a set of knee-length pants, made from a simple panna weave, while the women wear a long wrapped skirt that falls to their ankles. (Though perhaps a shorter skirt could be worn as well, and the extra material saved for later...) A pair of well-crafted leather boots with roan fiber laces come last.

Something about the clothing seems vaguely exotic, like the half-remembered smell of an unknown spice. Otherworldly, almost, in a way that doesn't quite fit in with the others.]

Surgeon Game

Surgeon Game Cygnus Side Full Write-up (gdoc here)

Diamond city

[As you travel the city, it is not so much the architecture that catches your eye, but the change in the buildings themselves. Passing the huts and humbler abodes of darkwoods and plank, you are now surrounded by masonry, from the simple brick, to the quiltwork of flagstone and even here or there, the austere smooth, rich face of marble and granite.

Few travel the streets with you, though they are well lit by soft white-burning torches, and the full red moon above seems to catch the veins of crystal in the marble, granting it all a pinkish hue. In the distance above, you see the great spiral towers, crafted of what could only be magic, they glitter even in the low light of the single moon above, almost otherworldly in its solitary rise, like an icicle or rose diamond.

The path you seek is well paved, ending in the spiraling stairs leading to the grand courtyard.

In a doorway, a stooped woman in heavy, intricately woven robes beckons you to step closer with a thick knuckled, crooked finger.]

Decision point one

Forwards

[Ignoring the beckoning woman, you stride forward, head high and package kept carefully to yourself. As you move forward, stone seems to give way to more precious building materials, the great mining country it is almost cannot explain for the smooth workings of what appears to be nothing but glimmering gems, the deep cobalts, cherry reds and whites of the most precious stone... to the palace itself. The great smooth wonder itself, diamond and smooth in construction... Though its walls may have been mined by peasant, no common hand took part in its construction.

Even this late at night, near the palace, you see nobility in their finery, the priests in their black and trimmed with gold, copper or silver, depending on rank, and the magus... Elite sorcerers draped in pink robes of stature.

Ahead the great gates loom, a golden swan wrought into their graceful curves and curls.

... And below you, the cobblestones begin to glow an eerie blue.]

Doorway

[The crone bobs her head respectfully as you step closer. She is ancient... Wrinkled deeply, and skin blotching from age and the sun. She only shows you a few teeth as she smiles and she drags her shawl closer to herself.]

“Come in... Come in... Please, listen a moment, I will offer you hospitality...”

Decision point two

Potion makers home

[The old woman steps aside to let you into her home... or perhaps ...a shop. You don’t immediately see anywhere a person could eat or sleep. All manners of herbs, powered, ground, liquid and otherwise... and... minerals, precious gems to what, to your untrained eye, only seems like sand or dust... and creatures... whole specimens of insects to small animals are caged, pinned, alive or dead, waiting for a certain kind of processing...

The shelves around you are filled with bottles of all shapes and sizes and the table has only a scale, mixing block and funnel. A kettle and pot both are suspended over a modest, low fire. The smell in the air, is possible less kind than death warmed over.]

[She shuffles to the back of the room.... and you may be relieved to see that her hospitality seems to be store bought cakes, rather than any creature around you.]

“I cannot find help in the city... Most think me a witch, but I am a mere potions maker.”

The gate forward

[As you step back, the noise in your head dies down. There must be something that is causing the flagstones to react in such a manner.]

Boss

[None]