![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Sep. 21st, 2015 10:13 amDaonna isn't a place she's spent much time, and within an hour of arriving there, Élise is glad this has been the case. She may not be immediately identifiable as a shardbearer at first
glance, but the city's residents don't leave any doubt about what sort of reception she'd get if that were the case. It's in the conversations she overhears, the idle chatter in the shops,
even in a few propaganda posters slapped up here and there.
Most disturbing of all is the sight of banners with fox faces painted on them hanging proudly, and the similar chalk markings in secluded corners. She doesn't even have to hear them to know what they mean.
She spends half an afternoon doing what she can to gain intel, but it's difficult when she's not the best at small talk and strangers have no reason to trust her. The whole thing collapses when she stands after a couple of drinks in a pub and one of the other patrons bumps into her, knocking the locket out of its place tucked in her collar. The barkeep's eyes narrow immediately, and Élise is forced to make her departure without goodbyes, from the bar and then from Daonna itself.
It's tempting to turn back and face their scorn directly, to remind them that she didn't choose to be there and neither did any other shardbearer, but what's the point? That sort of entrenched belief can't be changed so easily. All she can do is make it out safely and report to the Red Hand that matters in Daonna are worse than they realized, and hope that her next mission won't leave her feeling so frustrated and impotent.
glance, but the city's residents don't leave any doubt about what sort of reception she'd get if that were the case. It's in the conversations she overhears, the idle chatter in the shops,
even in a few propaganda posters slapped up here and there.
Most disturbing of all is the sight of banners with fox faces painted on them hanging proudly, and the similar chalk markings in secluded corners. She doesn't even have to hear them to know what they mean.
She spends half an afternoon doing what she can to gain intel, but it's difficult when she's not the best at small talk and strangers have no reason to trust her. The whole thing collapses when she stands after a couple of drinks in a pub and one of the other patrons bumps into her, knocking the locket out of its place tucked in her collar. The barkeep's eyes narrow immediately, and Élise is forced to make her departure without goodbyes, from the bar and then from Daonna itself.
It's tempting to turn back and face their scorn directly, to remind them that she didn't choose to be there and neither did any other shardbearer, but what's the point? That sort of entrenched belief can't be changed so easily. All she can do is make it out safely and report to the Red Hand that matters in Daonna are worse than they realized, and hope that her next mission won't leave her feeling so frustrated and impotent.
