[ january i log: barrayar ]

[barrayarmods]

Who: Everyone
What: Arrival on Barrayar and what follows
When: January 2nd - January 17th
Where: Barrayaran guerrilla camp
Warnings: None (at the moment)


welcome to barrayar.
It's the dark of night when you come to in the foothills. Snow on the ground, chill winter wind whistling. A steep mountain range towers just ahead, its peaks illuminated by the light of two moons. Whatever you last remember, it isn't how you got here, and you feel oddly jetlagged, slightly queasy.

And you're not alone. There are nine other people close by, all looking equally lost and confused. But before any of you have a chance to figure out what's going on, the soldiers arrive.

They're dressed in weather-worn green uniforms, bearing swords and bows, and they surround you immediately, poised to attack. But they quickly realize you're not their enemy, the ones they call Cetagandans. They're just as confused as you are, but rather than hanging around to puzzle it out, they start shepherding you toward their camp in the mountains while it's still dark. There's a war on, they say, and you unlucky bastards have just been dropped right smack in the middle of it.

the guerrilla camp
It's a few hours' hike through the mountains to get to their hidden camp, set up in a clearing framed by dense, hard forestry and backed against a rock face. Daylight is finally dawning when you make it there. You and your fellow sudden arrivals are ushered to an empty tent on the far end of the camp, just big enough to fit all ten of you. You can't help but notice they've posted guards all around it. You aren't under arrest – they just don't know what else to do with you.

You are able to glean, from hearsay and what the soldiers are willing to share with you, that you are on a planet called Barrayar, and this is their home, and ten years ago they were attacked without warning by the Cetagandan Empire. They've been holed up in the mountains fighting against their invaders ever since, outgunned and outmanned, but scoring little victories where they can. They don't tell you much more than that. Some dialect of Russian seems to be one of the predominant languages of the camp, but for the most part they all speak English too, if with an accent. They're gruff and wary, and if you look a little less – or more – than human, they'll eye you with suspicion, maybe even make obscure hex signs at you that seem intended to ward off evil or disease. But they aren't hostile to you, not unless you start something with them.

the outsiders' tent
It's not in the greatest shape, but if you look around the camp, the rest aren't much better off. It's cramped, but you've at least been provided with bedrolls and heavy wool blankets to ward off the frozen chill, and if you're in need of clothing, they'll provide it, although it probably hasn't been washed in…a while. The soldiers bring you food at mealtimes -- not very good food, mostly tough meat and groats, and they keep you your own campfire, just to keep you warm. They've also hastily dug you your own latrine area at the edge of the perimeter, just behind the treeline. No private bathroom stalls in this outfit, unfortunately. The entire camp seems tense and wary, and the soldiers are alert, but they don't talk much. You could try sneaking past them, but you probably won't get far.

Well, at least you've got each other for company: the outsiders on Barrayar.

Comments

[dendarii]

[ Deflecting, eh? He must be on the right trail. ]

It's not arrogance. It's a way of seeing the world. I've seen it in our Vor lords quite often.

[shri]

[ oh if only he knew. Granted, in this case, truth is stranger than fiction if she ever gets to telling him all of it. ]

How would you define such then, Admiral?

[ dig, and she'll dig back is the promise hanging in that word. ]

[dendarii]

[ Touché. But he's too damn stubborn for his own good, even if he betrays himself in the process. ]

Duty and privilege both. You can't deny you've had more than most, but you've had to shoulder more too.

[shri]

[ that at least, she can counter. ]

And if I told you I lived my last years in a brothel in the worst slums London has to offer with nothing to call my own?

[dendarii]

[ Miles raises an eyebrow. ]

I'd believe that. How'd you get there?

[shri]

[ she snorts, bitterness that has little to do with him, eyes back to the fire, like looking him with that in her face, in the her throat, would reveal too much. It would, it would. She will open her throat and an agony will pour forth like a river in high flood, there is so much bitterness there. ]

One side always has to lose a war, don't they? [ and to that, rank and caste meant nothing. ]

[dendarii]

[ Ah. That sort of situation. He sobers instantly. ]

I see. You were driven out, then?

[shri]

No, [ it's curt, and to her, it's a plain answer that will end this conversation evenly. She's given as much as she wants to or will ever so far as she's concerned. She's not here to be delved into, and she has her own wars to fight. ]

There was no one left after the lycans and vampires had finished feasting upon the dead.

[dendarii]

[ Fortunately(?), Miles is utterly distracted by her actual response. ]

There - what? Vampires?

[shri]

[ Alright, now she's surprised, her eyebrows raise her head goes back that little. He implied he knew of London at least - but he didn't know of the halfbreed? They were as quintessential as the weather. ]

The Half-Breeds? Their pureblood forefathers? Men who walk in their own skin when it suits them but turn to kill every living thing that their hunger desires them too? These stories are old, even to my time. All know to fear them, being human is to be but their prey.

[dendarii]

[ Yeah, he's currently staring at her like she grew an extra head. ]

I assure you there are no werewolves in London.

[shri]

[ are you sure because she's pretty sure she saw a werewolf drinking a pina colada at trade vic.... and his hair was perfect.

But no - perhaps she will... take solace in this. He's clearly not of her time, for she is perfectly certain no one has begun travelling except in Wells' opium induced fever dreams about the things he could find in his time machine.

Maybe this means she will succeed in task.

But still - if not the half-breeds, then surely... ]

And the Black Coats - [ a fumble, a moment, slang wasn't exactly useful. ] The Knights of the Order?

bless u

[dendarii]

[ Nothing but utter blankness in return. And a hefty amount of incredulity. ]

Never heard of them.

[shri]

[ Okay no that makes even less sense. ]

You've never heard of King Arthur's knights? Sworn to defend England's shores? Sir Perceval, Sir Bors, Lady Igraine? [ she laughs. ] I believe their latest edition includes the Marquis de Lafayette.

[ Careful still, she says it like they are just stories, not things she personally knows. Which granted, aside from being a pain in their side - and killing one of them - she doesn't.

Well, not until recently anyway.

Far be it for her to miss Sir Galahad. ]

[dendarii]

Oh. Well yes, of course. A very entertaining set of myths. Like vampires and werewolves.

[ Why does he get the sense she's not speaking mythologically? ]

[shri]

[ There's nothing particularly mythical or fantastically occurringin her expression or tone. Something hard and lean, instead. Stripped back, the crags of misery and destruction that jut up like ribs under skin, the creak of burned out wood in the curl of her knuckles at her side that comes as absent second nature to so much as speak of them.

They are why she wants of her blades. She didn't care for their war, not even to betray them. But she worries about what else could be lurking in the dark. Not her words - but the same, she didn't fight men.

Men were easy to kill, with their soft bellies and beating hearts, pitiful eyes and too easily stolen breath. But a Lycan? ]

How pleasant for you then - to know such things as myth. But I can assure you, they are not. The Knights have been guarding for some hundreds of years against the Half-Breed threat. Though their concern is their shores, not the other countries that fall victim to such creatures.

[ As she had said, she was not English. ]

[dendarii]

[ Miles winces at that. The wrong response, eh ... He doesn't mean to trivialize her experience, but - it's all just too damn ridiculous by his own universe's standards. And the universe that they're currently in for that matter. ]

My apologies. I know this is very real to you. [ He hesitates. ] Are you still fighting them?

[shri]

[ it's a half breadth too close to how the English had spoken to her for her not to feel the pull in of a irritation on her mouth, ugly and harsh and bitter. She has no business being such to this planet, whatever that meant, if as he says it true and they know nothing of the half breeds. But it had cost her nothing less than everything.

So it's a breath, and she relents, to take measure. This is not England. ]

All my life. [ said with her young face and young mouth, her pretty ornaments and well worn clothes - but it feels so wretchedly old in her bones, in her voice. Hurts coming up. ]

[dendarii]

[ He can sense that. How close he's treading to pissing her off ... He needs to be careful. ]

And now you've been brought here. To fight again.

[shri]

[ her hand comes up, rubbing at the back of her neck briefly, to relieve the ache in the her neck - where was that By man, perhaps she'd just take him up on the offer. Give her something, anything else. ]

It's not the fight. What is that, men against men? They at least, do not turn children to devour their parents in the night. [ and here she betrays herself, here she cannot be other than what she is. ] No I am not bothered by it, so much, nor do I begrudge them keeping us in such a way, it is what I would do in such the same position.

[ she sighs, the ire gone as quickly as it had come. ] this is just an unfortunate detour. I was rather busy, I guess you could say?

[dendarii]

[ That's all? She's only upset about having been rerouted? Well ... he supposes he is too, but even so. ]

And you wish to go home as soon as possible?

[ He thinks no one would disagree with her here. ]

... What do you mean about children, though?

I am premptively sorry for all heinous autocorrects

[shri]

[one day she'll be helpful and not so cagey. But there's too much, and she's been hunted too long to be anything but vague.

It's going to get her killed one of these days. But for now she nods, letting that be her answer. ]

A common enough tactic, if you are not killed outright by a lycan's bite, it will turn you. Such is the difference between a halfbreed and a pureblood. A pureblood is born, a halfbreed is made.

[ she carries on like its all just tactics, like she's talking out flanking and cavalry charges.] but it wont happen immediately, usually the first night after. By then, they've gone home, to their families and it is too late. When it takes them, they lose all sense of themselves.

[ a shrug. ] It is most effective when used on a child. They will not understand to say, who wants to put down a beloved son or daughter, a niece or nephew?

IT'S COOL

[dendarii]

[ Can't be worse than lobbing the dead children at Cetagandans to demoralize them, Miles almost says, but holds his tongue. That probably hasn't happened yet. And even if it has - how would he know? He hasn't been home in years.

In other words, he looks grimly nauseated by the thought. But not surprised. Oh no, not surprised. That seems a distinctly Barrayaran tactic. ]

And thus they use their own children against them.

cw: child death in here???

[shri]

Just so. [ another nod, a breath that comes thin between her lips as she follows it through.

Because she goes through the motions in her mind. A little girl, crying, hanging to her skirts, who didnt know what she had done. Rani, she had begged, where had her papa-ji gone?]

You asked of burdens? Someone stil has to see to those children.

[ for the child's sake, she had never let her see the blade coming. ]

[dendarii]

[ Oh. Of course. When the parent couldn't do it and died as a result ... Miles bows his head.

In a different world, that could have been me. His father had spared Miles at the expense of so much. Reputation, the relationship with his father, having any future children. ]

I'm sorry, Rani.