Scene #5549: Harmegis Patrol

Owner	Pose
All-Seeing Eye	Being exposed to a wealth of new information, completely new worlds with entirely different metaphysical principles and the heroes of said worlds is a lot for a newcomer to the Multiverse to take in. Some embrace it, others cautiously dip their toes in, still others rush to find a way to contextualize it within their own belief systems. Being a member of the Soulsteel Caste, made from an inherently destructive material, All-Seeing Eye is in the third camp. He wholeheartedly believes in the mission of the Paladins, but nonetheless views the Multiverse with the same critical gaze he views Claslat: a surface to be sanitized. But, much like the humans he's sworn to protect, and from which he arose, there are quirks in his personality. He's not without his habits, and today, he's indulging one of them. The illustrious Sir Gawain caught his eye in Denandsor--and pictures hardly did the Sun Knight justice. From the moment he caught a glimpse of the Heroic Spirit, Eye knew he wanted to know more. And what better way to know someone than to work with them? To that end, Gawain's been invited to the centropolis of Harmegis, capital of the nation of Claslat. The nation itself is an enormous cave, one fourth the size of Earth's Hawaii archipelago. The city is a stack of three slowly rotating rings, each one higher up than the next. The mission is a simple, routine patrol, although with Eye present, and the stark contrast of Autochthonia to Creation, Gawain may find it far from simple. Within this nation, there is no sky, and perhaps to Gawain's dismay, no sun. The air is stale, artificial, and in place of greenery the 'countryside' is dotted with crystalline matrices, pipelines, churning gears, smokestacks, and thick rubber wires the size of tree trunks. Eye has requested Gawain meet him on the lowest ring, known as the Maker's Anvil. The tram networks spread through Claslat can easily take him here, driven by pneumatic force. Upon drawing near to the city, he'll notice a set of evenly spaced, prismatic metal spires which originate from the lowest ring. Hanging above this ring is a near-perpetual cloud of smog. And upon exiting, despite the relative smallness of Harmegis compared to other metropoli, the first thing he'll notice is how crowded it is. Throngs of workers in dull grey denim overalls and rugged cotton jumpsuits shuffle back and forth between factories and housing complexes--which appear to be communal, and often no more than 500 paces from the nearest factory. Eye awaits near one of the debarkation terminals, holding up a sign with a glyph that resembles the sun. Apparently, Autochthonic is a pictographic language!
Gawain	Sir Gawain accepts the invitation pretty much immediately. A patrol in a new place is pretty great, and to help an ally seals the deal. Perhaps for weird for a dedicated officer of the Paladins, Gawain is snapping pictures on his way down with his camera phone. One picture even has an emoji sun added to it to offset the gloominess of the location, in Gawain's mind. Finding Eye is easy. There's a sun sign! That can only mean a bunch of sun-themed people, but is probably him, as Gawain slowly pushes through the crowd of workers towards Eye. "Hello! I hope I didn't keep you waiting, I took a few seconds to take some pictures. I won't upload them without consent of your government, of course! The tram ride was quite pleasant." There's a glance vaguely up, however. "But it's a shame there's no sun. I think Claslat would look positively radiant bathed in it!" With a bright grin on his face, Gawain is dressed in his more formal clothes - black fur shirt over his armor. "Well then, Chevalier Eye! I'm here to assist you on this patrol. I look forward to seeing how Autocthonia handles law enforcement, and I'll defer to you, as the local expert."
All-Seeing Eye	There are many sights which would make good pictures, even on this level. The spires, of course, are one such place, but the view of the city from above would make an excellent photo, especially with a sun emoji. Eye disposes of the sign the moment he sees Gawain, by way of a chute placed on the street corner. Everyone here (save, oddly, for Eye) has a gem embedded in their forehead. Most of the ones on this level are black, polished ovals. But a few, armed with repeating crossbows and wearing sleek black longcoats, have rectangular, emerald-cut topaz gems. Eye is wearing a flamboyantly personalized version of such a longcoat, unbuttoned all the way down to reveal a vibrant, multicolored cotton shirt, form-fitting grey trousers, and matching black boots. "Upon the cessation of our visit, I'll review your photos and submit my recommendations to the Tripartite. In the meantime..." The Exalt steps in close to Gawain. One arm is wrapped around the knight's waist, pulling him close. The other is raised, fist closed in a gesture of triumph. Smiling just as widely as the Sun Knight, Eye chirps, "Get one of the both of us!" Standing still for a moment to allow Gawain to take the picture (and, naturally, insisting upon seeing it himself) All-Seeing Eye takes a few steps back. "Excellent," he says, twirling his hair idly. "Our first stop is the glot market!" Turning on his heels, the Exalt wades through the crowd. Most of them are focused on getting to work, but a few pause to watch the two Elites. "I understand the concept of commerce is... familiar to most Elites?" It takes about twenty minutes to navigate through the densely packed crowds, but when they arrive at their destination, it's easy to see why Eye asked that question. As if the noise of the workers and factories weren't enough, now there is also a chorus of near-frenzied cries from barkers eagerly hawking their wares. As if the artificial sunlight and polychromatic light polution of the city's neon glyphs weren't enough, now there is a sea of portraits, fine clothing, sculptures, and bioluminescent paint--much of which is applied to courtesans wearing little else. And, mingling with the industrial smells of the city are the heady aromas of home-made incense. This must be the Glot Market.
Gawain	Gawain nods in understanding, before cheerfully pulling back out the camera, holding it up to get a good shot of the two of them. His grin lasting, two pictures are snapped rapidly before shown to Eye, before the phone is repocketed. "It is, yes! However, I've never heard of a 'glot' market. Is there anything special about it, or is it just merchants?" Once through the crowd, possibly with an explanation, Gawain begins eying around. First, there's a passive scan for magic, though he can't detect anything hidden or super weak, only that which is clearly there. His eyes assist, darting over courtesans, to sculptures, to the people selling the sculptures. "So, what are the primary things you search for? I assume thieves and vagrants, but I'm not sure of any other laws I should be aware of!"
All-Seeing Eye	Gawain will see that there's not much magic in play, at least, not from the average citizens. All-Seeing Eye is practically brimming with it, and, strangely, so are the humongous spires so prevalent on this level. In fact, much of the city's infrastructure seems to resonate with magic, from the factories to the security checkpoints and even the public transit system. The Exalt giggles. "Claslat is the only nation of the Eight which engages in commerce. Glots were conceived..." Eye puts a finger to his lips thoughtfully. "Hmm... three centuries ago? Yes~ As a means of incentivizing hard work! At first, they were simply traded in for extra relaxation shifts. Then..." Eye gestures to the stalls behind him. "The Populat began exchanging glots with one another!" Reaching into his longcoat, Eye produces a few precisely cut pieces of industrial scrap glass. The faces have inscribed glyphs upon them, presumably denoting value. Taking the Servant's hand gently, he deposits the glots into Gawain's open palm. "Here~ For a memento of your visit!" Squeezing Gawain's hand and fixing him with a coy little smile, Eye releases his grasp. "Thieves and vagrants, of course--but the main concerns here are counterfeit glots and dissidence. You'll find that... mmm, where Claslat's laws are normally quite strict by Multiversal standards, the glot markets are relatively unregulated." Then, his face brightens, as a child promised an exciting new present. "All /sorts/ of nasty things tend to hide here! Heresy, political dissent... and all under the guise of expression!~" "Any merchandise you find advocating protest, organized resistance, or diversion of worship away from Autochthon and his Divine Ministers is to be seized, and the merchant brought in for questioning." Eye takes a step closer to Gawain, reaching out to straighten a little bunch of his cape. "Mmm. Blue is /definitely/ your color!" Without another word, he turns, and begins investigating the various stalls. Definitely not shopping.
Gawain	As the glots are explained and put into his hand, Gawain glances at them, trying to understand the glyphs briefly before pocketing them. "I see. If the problem is fake currency..." He pulls them back out, as if he's trying to memorize the glyphs, before putting them back in again after several moments. "Well, if those are your laws, it is not my place to judge. What keeps one country safe does not keep another, after all!" Gawain steps forward to take a look at a stall, though Eye straightens his cape, which gets an appreciative nod. "Thank you! I had it specially tailored for formal policework." If that was flirting, Gawain hasn't realized it, as he moves through the stalls not far from Eye, scanning for anything that looks 'wrong' and also anything that looks interesting. Maybe a new vase or something? He asks the shopkeepers some questions about their wares too, though he plans on eventually regrouping up fully with Eye if he doesn't find anything.
All-Seeing Eye	There's a couple of things Gawain is sure to find interesting, given the difference in what Autochthonians consider to be art. For instance, there's a lot of personalized tools on display, with carefully carved filligrees featuring what must be important Autochthonian figures. The merchants inform Gawain that they are depictions of the Divine Ministers of Autochthon--so nothing suspcicious there! Then there's a woman selling... handkerchiefs? Each one has an elaborate pattern, woven around a hole in the center. She explains this is a MUKSHI, a type of funerary shawl. They're placed over the faces of the deceased, under the belief that the soul can 'see' from the corpse's eyes and might be startled to learn that it is dead. The hole is there so that it doesn't cover the soulgem--the little gems embedded in everyone's forehead. As he searches through the stalls, he'll find that there is a bit of magical energy that's almost out of place. It's like a low-level Noble Phantasm, and it seems to be coming from within the stall of a merchant selling fine clothing.
Gawain	It'd be rude to buy something representing someone he doesn't know, so Gawain doesn't buy any of the tools. The shawl interests Gawain on an informative level, but he has no need for it, and feels really bad because it's very well made. As he continues to investigate, though, Gawain picks on something. The smell of evil...well, it's not really a smell as much as it's an aura, and he's not sure it's evil, because it's actually just a magical aura. But it's worth investigating anyways, because it stands out! The Knight of the Sun approaches the fine clothing stall, taking a look through the merchant's wares before speaking up. "Hello, fine sir. What are you selling here? I'm not from the area, so I'm curious what the clothing here is like." It's entirely possible they just weave magic into their clothing. No reason to be suspicious before he knows what the situation is.
All-Seeing Eye	"The finest clothing in Claslat, right here! Silk, synthleather, denim, cotton! You name it, I have it! Togas, kimonos, buff jackets, coveralls! Perhaps even something like that cape of yours." This is announced loudly, proudly. But then, the merchant... a portly fellow (which, in itself is rare here) leans forward to announce something under his breath. "Or, perhaps sir would like something... special?" His brown eyes flick to Gawain's sword, then back up to make eye contact. He grins, conspiratorially. The magic, it seems, isn't coming from the clothes, but from within the stall. All-Seeing Eye, true to his name, witnesses this from across the market. Under the assumption that Gawain is simply shopping for clothes, the Exalt strides merrily over and begins thumbing through his wares. "Oh!" A blue cotton robe in what Gawain might consider a Chinese style catches Eye's attention. Like much of the clothes here, it's rough hewn, but not in a cheaply made way. If anything it looks sturdy, comfortable, and likely quite warm for those cold Dun Realtai nights. The sash across the middle is made to look like a cobalt pipe, and the upper half bears patterns of steam gouts darting boldly across it. "I think you'd look quite handsome in this~" The sudden presence of a Chosen in his vicinity tightens the merchant's lips, and he clears his throat nervously, pointedly looking away from the Sun Knight.
Gawain	"Oh?" That catches Gawain's eye. It's a bit suspicious...but it might simply be a tourist secret? Never assume ill intent, even if you have to make logic leaps to not do so. "Well-" And then, Eye's over here, holding up a robe. Gawain's attention seems to divert entirely towards his companion, likely to the merchant's relief. "Oh, that's quite nice! Winter's coming, so this will be do quite well." His hand moves to feel the fabric and he checks the designs, before nodding to Eye and taking the robe from him. "Thank you! I wouldn't have noticed it myself. Let's see..." Pulling the glots from his pocket, Gawain counts them, looking up to the merchant. "Will this be enough?" There's something about the way Gawain talks. It's not mind-altering in any way, and it doesn't make someone change who they are or how they act, but he comes off to a non-Elite as noble and 'knightly'. It's clear he's a man of honorable bearing simply from the moment he speaks, and his knightly stature sort of 'soaks out', attempting to impress itself upon the merchant. It's absolutely passive. Once the transaction seems complete/there's a lull in it, Gawain looks into the merchant's eyes, and then past him into the stall, attempting to figure out the rough location of the magical signature, before speaking. His voice is polite, still cheerful, but it's clear that he's not as naive as he may seem. "So, sir, you mentioned that you had something special? Some sort of blade, or something to aid a swordsman in general, I imagine? May I see it?" A brief pause, before Gawain speaks again. "It seems to have a decent magical signature! Admittedly, it's what drew me to your shop, but I assume you have the best of intentions of having something like that." There's no judgment. It doesn't even seem like Gawain's trying to subtly accuse him of anything. That might make it worse.
All-Seeing Eye	From the moment Gawain lays the brunt of his attention upon the merchant, he seems to shrink. The closest thing Autochthonia has to knights are its Champions, and only the lowest of the low would defraud one of Autochthon's Chosen--all the moreso for the retribution that would come with it. "M-more than enough! Here..." The merchant's fat fingers pluck a few glots from Gawain's hand, leaving the rest untouched. The mention of something for a swordsman jogs his memory, as if Eye weren't even there. "Ah! Yes... I do have something like that." But upon the mention of a magical signature, Eye undergoes a subtle shift in demeanor, leaning forward ever so slightly. His vision pierces the stall just as the merchant bends down. "A monofilament saber," says Eye matter-of-factly. "Please place the artifact upon the counter and put your hands behind your head! Compliance is mandatory~" Dejectedly, the merchant rises. The artifact is placed upon the counter as instructed. It's a brilliant white-gold longsword, the blade of which appears to be segmented. The crossguard is steel with brass inlays, and the pommel is a sapphire with a hammer engraved upon one of the facets. "H-how...?" "Oh, come now!" Eye giggles. "My designation is All-Seeing Eye. You didn't think I... wouldn't see it?" With the blow of a whistle in his pocket, a couple of Regulators approach the merchant, glancing momentarily down at the artifact upon the table, then back to him. His hands are bound by a pair of steel, hermetically sealed cuffs.
Gawain	Gawain smiles at the merchant as he puts away the rest of his glots, but when the man bends down and Eye somehow sees what's going on, Gawain frowns. It seems they have indeed found a criminal. As the blade is brought to the counter, Gawain looks it over, moving to run a hand over it and grip it if not stopped. He's not checking it for magic - he's seeing how it appears to vary from most blades, even if all he can get off it is from sight and feel. He places it down where it was afterwards, stepping out of range of the merchant to speak to Eye. "Hmm. Such a blade is illegal here? Is it due to safety reasons, or are civilians not allowed to bear arms? It is a beautiful blade, but from his demeanor...it would seem he was knowingly trafficking in illegal goods, which is quite a shame." Gawain's keeping the robe. He bought it!
All-Seeing Eye	As the merchant is taken to a tram for transport to a holding facility, Eye does indeed allow Gawain to examine it. "A shame indeed, dear Gawain. Only Regulators and Champions may bear arms when not part of a volunteer militia. Hm..." The Exalt picks the weapon up, and there is a surge of magic leading from him to the weapon. Yes, it would seem the weapon was indeed what was triggering his magic sense. "Curious that he'd have this--this weapon is an artifact. A mortal wouldn't be able to utilize its full potential. Observe~" The Exalt swings the sword overhead, keeping Gawain and the nearby civilians free of the swing. At the apex of his swing, he presses a button on the hilt. The sword's fragments split apart, revealing a braided steel cable that not only increases the length of the cutting surface, but makes the weapon more like a barbed whip than a sword. The Populat--both merchants and shoppers alike--give a brief round of applause for this feat as the sword's fragments zip back together. Well, even if it's illegal for civilians to bear arms, in this case, there's probably a public safety concern, too. "It will be /most/ interesting to see where he acquired it!"
Gawain	"An artifact?" Gawain isn't aware what the term means, though he steps away as Eye swings and activates the blade. His eyes fixate on the blade as it splits out like a whip. Absolutely dangerous, and also pretty cool. "Why couldn't a mortal use it? It is a very nice blade, though! Well...if a mortal couldn't use it, then perhaps someone who isn't a mortal was where he acquired it? Maybe he was a middle-man selling off a blade for a powerful being that couldn't do it themselves...a man trying to feed his family, turning to a life of crime to do so..." Gawain's watched too much crime television. "Hopefully after whatever punishment he has, if it is not death, he'll be able to reform and find a true and honest line of work!"
All-Seeing Eye	"It requires Essence to use properly--the invisible building block of our world!" He takes a deep, biologically superfluous breath and releases it in a steady, controlled fashion. His hands follow the path of the air, rising slowly up only to flip and push downwards at the same rate. "Though it permeates and surrounds us, mortals included, only certain beings may call upon it." "Look over there," he says, pointing to a patrolling Regulator, as throngs of Populat workers pass by. They occasionally obsucre the Regulator's form. "Do you see her crossbow?~" She carries a repeating crossbow, with a magazine of bolts sticking out of it. "Functionally and aesthetically identical to every other. An efficient weapon! A deadly weapon~ But, mundane. It has no name, no story, no legend." "Now..." Eye holds the monofilament saber in his hands, as one would when bequeathing a weapon to another. He presents it to Gawain. "Note the fine detail of the sword! /This/ weapon took will, and Essence, to create. Where the Regulator's crossbow is a spartan thing of steel and composite, /this/ weapon is a brilliant blade of Orichalchum and burnished brass." Indeed, the blade's make, if somewhat more 'high tech,' does bear resemblance to the wonders of cursed Denandsor. "/This/ weapon has a name, and a legend--and in the hands of one who cannot channel Essence, it may as well be an ugly, sharpened length of lead." With a skilled flourish, Eye twirls the sword and lays it level across his arm. The device folds itself in half, vertically, then the segments begin folding into one another. Finally, it disappears under his sleeve. He watches it disappear with a little smirk. Slowly, his golden eyes trail up the armored form of the night standing before him, and he giggles. "I hope that answers your question~ It will be returned to the Tripartite, whereupon it shall be assigned to a Champion worthy of its legend! As for our criminal, well..." "He's clearly talented! I believe he can be reprogrammed into a more virtuous citizen."
Gawain	"Ah, right! Miari told me of Essence. That makes more sense now." Gawain nods, following Eye's explanation along diligently. His eyes don't leave the blade, which he clearly finds super fascinating, and his eyes widen when the blade /folds/ and goes up his sleeve. "Well, if it has a name, then it's a shame that we don't seem to know it! All good weapons deserve to have their names known to the world." Gawain glances forward, before gesturing to Eye and preparing to walk again, as their patrol isn't over just because they caught one man. "Rehabilitation is what prisons are for, after all. Any man can be redeemed, no matter who they are. That's my belief in the world. You just need to reach to their hearts!"