God-Kings of Lotus: Beneath a Green Sun

[The Demented One]

Where the dead hot winds of Malfeas drive the Endless Desert's silver sands against the basalt walls of the Demon City; where the bitter green waters of Kimberry lap at its squalid underbelly; where the forests of Szoreny spread argent roots beneath its brazen foundations, there is a threshold. Everything within this Hell is defined by its limits, its borders, its edges. And it is at the distant edge of an unhappy corner of Malfeas where Rising Echo finds himself, crossing through a jagged portal ripped into the brickwork of the infernal city. He steps boldly through the twisted entrance, looking out upon the labyrinth of obsidian roadways and viridescent towers, all cast in stark green pallor by the light of Ligier. The Eclipse manages a smile as he looks up at the bright star, the demon-sun he and his brethren triumphed over. After weeks in the burning crucible of the Endless Desert, even the least reminder of Creation–of Lotus–is a welcome balm.

But the Green Sun is not the only demon. Like a rotten hunk of meat cast to the ground for the maggots, the city writhes with demonic life, a grotesque kaleidoscope of fauna that shades through every spectrum of organic form. Swarms of child-sized locusts spin blindly through the sky, trailing streamers of silk, sharing the windless expanse with dark clouds reeking of blood and brine, each one moving under its own malevolent intelligence. Writhing masses of tentacles share the slick black streets with mangy blood apes and cliques of strange, inside-out women who drag their organs behind them. Even Malfeas's soil, a clay of blood and ground-down brass, is rife with demonic life, wriggling protoplasmic vermin and fungal clusters of rotting meat.

If any demon looks at Rising Echo, it is only to look away. None speak to him, none challenge him, and none defy him. He is Chosen of the Unconquered Sun, God-King of the Eclipse Caste, and by the terms of the Creation-Ruling Mandate is he proclaimed Ambassador to Hell. He has come to Malfeas with purpose, one golden spark amid an endless sea of night. Hell yawns wide, and Rising Echo enters.

[Lochar]

Echo looks the great city of the damned over once as he makes the first step into Hell proper. Demons of every shape and size, more than he'd known, than he'd ever known, walked the streets here in front of him.

And even then, a whisper in the back of his mind. This is only the poor, the weak, the serfs and slaves. A reminder of a time long ago when he had once stepped through here before, on a mission of much greater importance. The great dragon might be a stopping point again here, but not now, not yet. He had much else to do first.

The torn tatters of his Creation born clothing were wrapped around him, only his orichalcum having made it through the silver desert without destruction, Echo moved quickly through the streets, not paying attention to the demons around and above him.

I cannot look the fool, nor out of place here. One stumble and Ambassador status or no, I will be set upon.

Grand palaces awaited him, or at least in an Age long past, did Malfeas keep such for those he was required to treat with. But Echo would not bank on such hospitality. Not yet, not with Ligier beaten only weeks prior. The whole of the city probably wanted to crush him for that, save for the fact that oaths swore upon old and new names kept him from doing so.

Instead, Echo stopped walking towards what once might have been the embassy district of the city and looked around. Dozens of types of demons moved through the city, mumbling to themselves or making other noises to ward off the Silent Wind. Picking one at random, one of the many blood apes, Echo stopped him and spoke, his Old Realm showing the accent of the First Age Meru, the only Age in which he had ever spoken this language.

"Ape, I require a moment. I would know where new visitors might find, if not welcome, at least respite for a few days, while they gain their bearings here."

[The Demented One]

"Buh. You talkin' to me, guv?" asks the blood ape, looking around as if to find someone else–anyone else–to talk to the Exalt. "Uh, if you want to be finding somewhere to put up for a while, you should be lookin' for Ipithymia. Where I'd go, you know, if they'd put me up. Pretty fellow like you oughta find plenty of respite, if he don't mind sharing it around, you know what I mean?" You suspect the foul thing is referring to a brothel. Choking back your gorge at the very thought, you manage to make out the demon's directions to the place. The path seems a torturous circuit, one that could only be described by Old Realm's robust vocabulary. "So, uh, we're good? I can go, right?"

[Lochar]

Echo shakes his head at the roundabout directions. "I've had issues before with directions that take about four times as long as they should. Not that I think you're trying to send me off through the worst parts of the town." A grim smile at the blood ape. "I thinkn I'll need you along with me. In case my directions vanish. I'm probably not on the best of terms with the city, and dropping a few buildings in front of me isn't breaking any oaths, so long as I'm not hurt. So come along, my friend. We have the Ipithymia to see."

Without waiting for the ape to protest, Echo moves forward in the direction he was given, fully expecting the creature to fall into step with him.

[The Demented One]

"Yes, guv'." grumbles the Blood Ape, falling in behind the errant God-King. Following its crude, confused directions, Rising Echo manages to navigate the infernal latticework of Malfeas's roads, twisting and turning through a labyrinthine ennead of roadways. The demon's directions seem preposterous, sending you in loops and down switch-backs, but you follow nevertheless. You may lack Watcher's unerring ear for lies, but this dim brute could hardly be expected to confound you. And indeed, you eventually find yourself before a broad boulevard paved in glistering glass, lined with fat lanterns dropping golden radiance. "Welp, here we are. Ipithymia. Street of...well, I can't remember the full title, quite, but she's the Street of Mostly Whores. We got, uh, the Black Lotus Pagoda on one side, very classy place, wouldn't let me in. And there's the Stockade, all tastes catered to, no questions asked, rooms for rent by the night. Now, that's the Seraglio of the Crimson Cockerel, but a gent like yourself doesn't seem like he'd be frequenting it, know what I mean? So, uh, we're good?"

[Lochar]

Rising Echo looks down the street with only a single raised eyebrow. Certain goings on even on the street were pushing the boundaries of depraved right into non-existence. When he got home, he swore to himself he was going to absolutely wallow in the wholesomeness that was Creation.

Turning to the Blood Ape, Echo smiled slightly at it. "I'm done with you for now. I'll expect you to be here," a flash of memory, of Malfeas and the tomescu, "an hour after the scream of morning. If I don't need your directions or assistance then, I'll be done with you for good. I'll even put in a good word for you at the Black Lotus."

In saying that, Echo steps into the Black Lotus Pagoda, his eyes readjusting to the dimmer lighting than the golden lights coming from the district itself.

[The Demented One]

"Yessir." gripes the blood ape, becoming used to his newfound subservience. At least Rising Echo's demands are backed with cosmic power and infinite anger–he's better than Malfeas! The erymanthoi slinks back into the Malfean crowd, hastily disappearing as best a massive beast of matted fur and brutish brawn can.

With that disposed of, the Eclipse Caste enters the Black Lotus Pagoda, a massive pleasure house carved from a single piece of jet. Within, he finds a confounding darkness–everything within is deep black, so dark as to shine with mirror-sheen. The tiles of the floor, the arched ceiling, the fluted pillars, all of them are of obsidian darkness. As he casts about, struggling to make sense of the black kaleidoscope, a voice slithers up from behind him. "Greetings, Prince of the Earth. What pleasures would you seek in Hell?"

The neomah is like all others of her kind, sleek and violet-skinned, beautifully androgynous. Strange piercings mar her flesh, dangling chains and leather straps, but even Rising Echo cannot argue with her beauty. "We could offer you a complimentary massage and a straight lay, to get you relaxed, and then you can peruse our complete menu of services. We accept payment by the act or the hour, and there's a special elite patron's deal, all you can take for as long as you last for just a quite modest fee. Shall I pleasure you while you decide, or would you like some time to make up your mind?"

[Lochar]

"As tempting as the offer is," and by the Lions did her hands hit certain spots, "I'm going to have to decline for the moment. I am only here for room and board for the foreseeable future."

Still... "I am, however, amenable to a changing of those terms later on. Just not for the next few days. Who must I speak with about a room?"

[The Demented One]

"Oh. Wait, what?" asks the neomah, utterly flustered. "I mean, we could furnish you with a room without any services...but why? Who would do that? Are you some kind of eunuch? Some kind of insane, asexual eunuch?" She seems all but ready to begin foaming at the mouth, but she soon gains control of herself. "What I mean is, of course! The Black Lotus Pagoda offers services even to insane asexual eunchs. We can offer you a Lover's Suite–without any lovers, of course–for only ten aegina a day, or six thais an hour." You have no idea what currency she speaks of. "We also accepted payment in the coinage of any recognized fiefdom, mortal chattel, chalcanth, blood rights, magical materials in ores or alloys, dreams, exotic reagents or compounds, social levies, infernal scrip, or bright red ducks. How will you be paying?"

[Lochar]

"I work best with social levies, although I'm not owed any favors at the moment. How about this? For the price of the room for the week, I will use my influence and presence on behalf of the Black Lotus for the same week. I will speak with any one client or potential client to gain the Black Lotus their favor and protection."

It was odd, really, how easy it was for Echo to turn his Essence this way and that here. A Charm that seemed out of reach was in easy use now, seeming to twist upon his next words.

"Any additional services I require," Rising Echo gave the neomah a frank appraising look, will be paid for seperately. And no, I'm not an insane asexual eunuch. I just prefer to not spend my first day in Malfeas in an extermely long while partaking of Ipithymia's offerings."


Crisis for First Presence, to overwhelm the neomah with his presence. Not trying for a social attack, just reacting to the offerings and using Overindulgence. 9 personal motes.

[roll0]

You know, I almost think that using Essence Crisis based on your Virtue Flaw should really come with Limit points. But I'm not arguing. :)

[The Demented One]

"Oh. We don't usually accept services as payment, but I think we have an opening you could fill–and no, not like that. I'll just need to consult with the madame." Blushing a little over Rising Echo, she scurries back into a recess cut into the jet of the seraglio. Messily organic squishing drips out from behind the convex of the ebon wall, intercut with the slap of leather on skin and ecstatic moaning. She returns just a few minutes later, slick with sweat and carrying out a stack of forms. "If you'll just fill these out, I can lead you to your chambers. Are there any preparations you'd like to make, or will you be leaving?"

[Lochar]

Echo looks over the documents, chuckling to himself. The hell of bureaucracy. Quintuplets of every document, all must be signed exactly the same. Perusing them for a moment and finding nothing that struck out as dangerous, Echo began signing the documents, making certain that his flourishes in writing were matched on each line so as to ensure that nothing could be backtracked and used against him.

Reaching the end of the documents, Echo looked up. "This is missing Form Infernal-9, page 27. There are three lines I need to sign there as well." Giving a knowing eye to the neomah, he was not surprised when the proper papers were introduced.

Ah, there it was. Penalty for page not being signed being slavery not to exceed three mortal life spans. And signed.

Finishing the documents quickly and efficiently, Echo handed them back to her, before looking at his personal assistant and realizing that while it was still attempting to track time in Creation, there were no spiders to listen to in Malfeas. "If it's before the Tomescu's scream for night, I think I'll head out. How long until then?"


Flawless Brush Discipline on the forms, just for the hell of it. Working Appearance of 9 for the beauty of the forms being filled out. Echo is purposely not putting the compulsion part in, he's just being extraordinarily careful about ensuring the forms are all correct.

2 motes peripheral left.

[The Demented One]

"Oh...oh my!" pants the Neomah, blushing a brilliant pink. "Lord Echo...I mean, Rising Echo, I shall make arrangements for your chambers and office." She does not stumble over herself as she runs up the spiraling staircase of black carnelian that leads to the next floor, because stumbling over herself in front of Rising Echo would be extremely embarrassing. Instead, she gracefully tumbles up the stairs, making it halfway before she realizes she forgot to tell the Eclipse Caste the time. She slinks down in the manner of a recalcitrant puppy, nuzzling up behind him. "Iwasjustgoingupstairstochecktheclock, haha. It's five hours till the Dragon flies. Oh, I mean, that means night." Malfeas does not have high schools, and the neomah do not have true gender, but she is giggling like a little schoolgirl.

[Lochar]

Echo chuckles quietly to himself, and at hearing the time motions to the neomah to continue onward. "Let's see the quarters then, my dear. I need to catch up on a few hours of sleep, and then see what the day will bring me. I have many things I'll need to do."

As he followed the neomah upstairs, Echo's eyes couldn't help but being drawn towards the shapely rear of the demoness, and his grin twisted slightly into a smirk at the shake she probably unconsciously put into it.

I need to not let this place effect me so easily, but nice.

[Lochar]

After turning down one last offer for a bedmate, Echo entered the very well crafted room, looking it over. Obviously put together with comfort in mind, this was not a room for the heavier portions of the sex trade that were undoubtedly practiced here. Again, the room was almost completely dark but the light of his anima banner served well enough to move about the room for a few moments before finding candles and other such things to create light without spending his own essence in its creation.

Two well stuffed chairs sat in front of a heavily braced desk, and the bed was large enough for a half dozen people to sleep on without touching, or a dozen to be on it, all touching. Chuckling, Echo laid down on it by himself almost losing himself to the almost insanely large bed after removing his armor and placing his swords close to hand.

Within moments, his breath was even and quiet.


The Dragon Flies. A loud scream awoke him, and Echo nearly jumped up from the bed, his hand reaching for a golden blade before realizing that it was only now daytime.

Pausing for a moment to clear his head, Echo then put his armor and other artifacts back on, threading the guards of the hook daiklaves into place on his belt before opening the door, only to find the same neomah standing there, a bright smile on her face.

"Well, if you've picked yourself to be my companion for the moment, I think that I'm going to need sustenance before anything else. The Black Lotus does provide meals for mortals, I would assume?"

[The Demented One]

"Hello, Advocate Echo! I was, oh, assigned by Madame Vercingtorix to be your secretary. My name's Bright Orchard, by the way!" She quickly regains her composure, making an elaborate display of coughing. "If you'd like to eat, the vomitoria are open at all hours, you can enjoy whatever you please. Just show them your staff emblem...oh, here it is!" She passes you a small ring of brass, set with a crystalline ingot of vitriol. The sigil engraved upon it is thoroughly profane. "I've, ah, gathered some files on your first assignment. It's rather delicate. It would seem that we are owed a substantial debt by one of the Unquestionable. Maertes, the Six Masters, one of the Ebon Dragon's closest souls. Are you feeling up to it?"

[Lochar]

Echo nods and takes the symbol gingerly, looking at the profane mark on it before mentally shrugging. A whorehouse in Malfeas, I shouldn't expect it to be the personal symbol of Ignis Divine.

"Come then, Bright Orchid. We'll get something for me to eat while we look over what you brought to me."

Letting the neomah lead the way to the vomitoria, Echo looked over the documents briefly. Multiple visits, promises to pay later. Tabs began but never paid off. Services rendered above negotiated services and unpaid. The list went on and on.

"How much does Maertes owe, roughly?" Echo asked after getting some food. Echo rolled an apple in his hands as he looked the paperwork over. Surprisingly crisp apple too. Must be very hard to import, which made it all the more exotic here.

[The Demented One]

Bright Orchard nibbles at a hunk of hell-brie, spreading out a heap of reports and receipts before the Eclipse Caste. "It depends on the currency. You still use the talent in Creation, right? It would be..." She scribbles out a few calculations in the margin of a receipt. You may not be the loremaster Ivory Eyes is, but even you know that most simple arithmetic shouldn't involve that many integrals and divisions by zero. "...somewhere on the order four thousand, three hundred and twelve talents, three bars, twenty-three minae, fifty shekels, five hundred and eighty obols, and one virginal bear. Quite a lot. He certainly hasn't used mind-warping sorcery to make the madame forget his debts, because accusing an Unquestionable of that would have us all drowned in Kimbery."

[Lochar]

Echo starts silently at the number. "Well, you can't, at least."

Perusing the documents himself, Echo notices the receipts all have penned in To be paid later in another hand, most likely the madams. He was no sorcerer, that was Ivory's domain, but just comparing some of the dates he could see the pattern himself. Later was always later.

"Besides the Black Lotus, what other likes and dislikes does our errant Unquestionable have? I'd like to not walk into any discussion with no background knowledge. Also, where would I contact him outside of the Black Lotus?"

Best not to be around here to be distracted myself.

[The Demented One]

"The Six Masters are...is a consummate patron of villainy. His only desire is to be evil, to be despised by everything good and noble. Not a very realistic character, if you ask me. His visits here were what you'd expect, the usual sadistic buffet his type enjoys. I doubt his other tastes would be beyond your wit to guess, and I'd much rather not speak any more. We are not well-used to cruelty such as his. He keeps his sanctum in Costravalva, one of the Shadow's manses deep near the heart of the city. There are directions in your envelope. Good luck, Echo."

[Lochar]

"Ah, a soul of no redeeming qualities then. I'll bear that in mind, Orchid. Keep yourself well for me."

Standing, Echo shifts through the envelope, pulling out the directions. Leaning down, he places a chaste kiss on the cheek of Bright Orchid, before leaving the Black Lotus and the area, moving quickly through Malfeas towards the manse.

Once he is out of the district, his own mind quickly rallies though. Don't get distracted with them, Echo. You fall too far into the hands of them, they won't let you go. Enjoy it, but don't ever get attached to it.

[The Demented One]

Navigating the brazen boulevards of Malfeas is an exhausting exercise, but Rising Echo nevertheless feels he's managed the odyssey with admirable skill. He manages to avoid the duplicate-city that tesseracts behind corners and through impossible angles, dodges more than one aerial bombardment of agatae-filth, and successfully slips past the Marching Defenestration Brigade. For all the perils between him and his goal, all the bridges of infinitely fragile glass and gutter-dwelling dolphin-snakes, he manages to come safely to Costravalva. It's a tower, of course. Malfean architecture abounds with towers of all sorts, ranging from squat functional turrets to massively overwrought phalli of basalt. This demon's palatial tower overtops them all, a needle of wicked obsidian that snags the absinthe smog of the sky with its tip.

Making his way to its courtyard, Echo is amused by the bizarre menagerie of flora and fauna that teem within its alabaster walls. Demonic butterflies glow menacing shades of sunflower yellow and hot pink, while monstrous squid-like bushes rustle their suckered leaves with menace. He crosses a path paved over with sluggish, adamant-shelled gastropods, until he comes to the gates of Costravalva. They stand four in number, each one a massive portal hewn from a single glinting gem, each one unlike in color. Before the doors, a pure black scroll floats in midair, scribed with words of illuminated acid-greens in some vast vitriolic hand.



Speak, traveler, but one question,
And here your answer spoke.
Each door is but a demon,
And through one door is hope.

Behind the several others
Lie several other deaths.
If you're to know the difference,
Then hearken to the test.

One demon speaks in naught but lies,
Its mate speaks truth, if but in vain.
One mixes truth and like alike–
The last? It hungers for your brains!

So ask one question, ask one fiend,
And hope to step out in the light.
If you should win, I'll meet you glad!
If not, I feast on you tonight!

And indeed, a demon's head protrudes from each door, leering at the golden hero before them. A goat-headed brute hangs down from the ruby gateway, while a serpentine wyrm coils across it, in the sapphire gate. In the center, a demonic bear stares out at you from an amethyst portal, and beside it, a hideous gaping maw of countless teeth slaver and struggles to break free of its obsidian doorway.

"It's behind me!"
"No, he lies! Behind me, behind me!"
"Oh well...no use even looking behind me. I'm not it. "
"Braaaains."

[Lochar]

Echo looks at the four demons that make up the doors into the manse, before looking upwards. "Ignis Divine help us all." he rolls his eyes.

He steps up to the first demon that spoke. "Tell me, do both of your companions that did not ask for my brains lie? It is a simple yes or no answer, do you think you can comprehend it well enough to answer that?"

[The Demented One]

The demons take a moment to confer, puzzling out the logic of Echo's question. Once they parse out the torturous syntax of the sentence, they respond in a jarring sequence.

"No!
"Yes!
"Yes!
"Brains?"

[Lochar]

Echo looks at the second door. "You realize that if both of the other doors have lied, that means that you lied as well earlier about you being the correct door. Which means you've told the truth here. So obviously, you can tell both truth and lies."

Echo then looks to the third door. "Whereas you say they both lie, meaning neither of them have the door behind them, yet you said you did not have the door behind you, which means you would have to. You lied as well."

"Normally, I would then say that you are the truth teller." Echo says to the first demon door, but then shakes his head. "However, with both of them not lying, and yet I proved they both can, that means you lie as well."

Echo's caste mark flares into being, golden light temporarily pushing back green as his voice ascends the manse, silencing all within a hundred feet of him, and echoing beyond another hundred.

"Maertes, Six Masters. I proclaim myself Rising Echo, Eclipse of Ignis Divine. Furthermore, I proclaim ALL of your doormen to be liars, save possibly the one asking for brains, because the other three certainly need them. You will open whichever door leads safely to you, for we have many things to discuss."


Spending five motes to silence everything around me with the pectoral, then spending 3 motes on Irresistible Salesman Spirit to double successes on my Cha+Presence. 8 motes spent peripheral.

Cha+Presence+Pectoral: [roll0]
Double successes would be 14 successes

[The Demented One]

A smug, wafting laugh chokes the air, the kind of laughter that could sour milk, or choke a baby. "Oh, Rising Echo, you cunning rogue. Most Lawgivers who've come to my doors have simply tried to kick them down. I'm impressed, really. Of course, it would have been even better if you'd actually been right, but let's not speak of such unimportant things, shall we? The true door is the one of obsidian, of course. Just walk on through, and I'll see you in my parlor. Oh, and do make sure not to let Polyphage get ahold of you; his teeth are horribly nasty. Tata!"

[Lochar]

"Violence is not always the answer." Echo chuckles to himself. "Though most people pose it as the question."

Approaching the door of obsidian, Rising Echo nods to the demon slavering from it's bindings. "When you're not part of this Ruse, I bet you're at least slightly more interesting to talk to. No brains for you today, though I imagine you all feast quite well on others."

Reaching to the door, Echo pushes it open, allowing the demon tied to the door to swing with it as he steps through.

[The Demented One]

As Echo reaches for the door, the assemblage of spiny teeth lunges for him, a grotesque tentacles of meat studded with slimy fangs surging forward to clamp down on the Eclipse Caste's head. Echo sighs. "Really now, I was trying to be kind about this. I didn't even break down the doors like Six Masters said everyone else did." Pulling his sword from his side, he allows the bite to taste the hook of orichalcum, essence flaring along the blade and forcing the gnashing teeth backwards as he pushes directly with the mouth and the door, forcing it open anyways. Polyphage slinks sadly back into the elsewhere-space of his door, leaving the way open to Rising Echo.

He finds the interior of the demon's palace just as baroque as its outside. Murals etched into the walls with vitriol depict countless villianies and misdeeds most vile, while tapestries strung together from still-writhing meaty viscera portray grotesque scenes of orgiastic excess. The lurid images and half-rotted stench assail Echo, and he is glad to finally make his way to Maertes' parlor. It is a study in luxury–overstuffed velvet seats, gilded molding clasping close to the walls, bars stocked with every liquor known to the Demon City. And at the center sits the demon himself, slouching back in a massive armchair. His shape is not unlike Rising Echo's, disturbingly similar. Were it not for his clean-shaven cheeks, and the truly massive crown of hair that cascades down from his brows, they could be twins. "Lawgiver! Welcome to my diabolical lair!"

[Lochar]

Echo starts for a moment, before ruefully laughing under his breath at himself. Such is the hubris of the demons. The thought flits through his mind.

Moving forward, Echo slides his blade back into it's clip, knowing that he'd not have to play with any more of Six Masters' housekeepers.

Deciding to play along with the game at the moment, Echo takes a armchair that is nigh identical to the one the demon currently rests in.


"Quite an interesting abode, to say the least. I think the decor is a little much, but then again, I'm more of a man of simpler tastes. It comes from my upbringing before my Exaltation, I think." Echo gives the demon a slight smile.

[The Demented One]

"You would question my tastes?" asks the Six Masters, arching an eyebrow flawlessly. "But decadence becomes you, God-King! I can see it now; an adamant amphora of wine in your hands, a liberal draping of courtesans and neomah, some tight leather pants, it'd be perfect! But alas, you didn't come here for my fashion sense. Few people do, oddly enough. No, what is it that's brought you here, little spark? Can't just rip it from your skull, no, that's not polite. Not polite at all! So, let's talk! I want to know all about why you're here." He produces a crystalline sphere in one hand, rolling it over his fingers with lazy insouciance. "Or should I fetch you a decanter of some strong liquor first, or else a feasting table heaped high with sweets, or a warm bed? We could take turns! Debauchery always makes for a good introduction!"

[Lochar]

"I don't question your tastes, no. More noting that is of a much higher standard that even I might set for myself."

Ignoring the jab about pulling the information from his skull, Echo nods to the next thing. "A good drink wouldn't be amiss, although I prefer to take my debaucheries in private. I do have a private room at the Black Lotus, after all."

With drink in hand moments later, Echo takes a small sip, enjoying the flavors of the alcohol, noting its strength and estimating how long before it would likely get him roaring drunk.

"I've actually come to you over several things, but first I would wonder if you know what those reasons are already. A powerful demon of your caliber probably has a number of ways of divining information that doesn't include ripping it from my skull."

[The Demented One]

Maertes smiles. "Well of course, I know a few things of you. You're Rising Echo, Chosen of the Decidedly Less Enjoyable Sun. Ligier has gone on and on over you and your circle, really quite the tale. I think he's worked up quite the crush on the little sorceress, it's adorable. So I know who you are. And now I know that you're staying at the Black Lotus, and I imagine that's not entirely unrelated to your current visit, hmm?" He throws back a crystal glass of some murky green liquor, setting it aside with gusto. "Let's guess–you're either an assassin, or–and worse, I should add–come for my debts. Do I about have it?"

[Lochar]

Echo chuckles at the revelations about Ligier. "Last I heard him, he was throwing threats about taking all our heads for ruining his fun on the Blessed Isle. But yes, I am here about your debts to the Black Lotus. I understand not wanting to pay, but if no one paid, then no one could have any fun there, right?"

Echo smiles at the Unquestionable. "However, I do not think that you would have to pay back everything. A repeat customer spends more if he knows he is getting a discount, does he not?"

[The Demented One]

"Echo, what do I stand to gain from bargaining with you? I'd be well within my rights to simply snarl up your memory and pluck it from your head, and keep my wealth well intact. No, no, no, I want more. And so, I think, do you. You'd not be at the beck and call of a den of whores if you had your druthers, would you? You're in Malfeas, and you can't get out. So we deal. You do what I want, and I'll tell you how you make your way back home. Sound like a deal?"

[Lochar]

Echo blinks. Well, that was fairly direct. "My status as Ambassador doesn't allow you to arbitrarily attack me like that, and even beyond that point, what makes you think I want to leave Malfeas at the current moment? I might be enjoying myself at the Black Lotus and am doing this as a favor to them. But you are right, I am looking for information on some other things."

A slow smile plays across his lips as he considers. "While I doubt that the Black Lotus would enjoy me returning without anything from you, I think we can work out some very favorable deals. Heavily in your favor, of course. But I'll also entertain ideas on what you'd like from me, personally."

[The Demented One]

"The first thing I'd like is for you to bring this back to the Black Lotus for me." He deposits the crystalline bauble in your hands, letting it roll gently over your palms. "A token of good faith, much as it pains me to say it. A trinket such as this should cover perhaps a mean tenth of what I owe, if I still know the bazaars. And that damnable bear to boot. And once you've done that, I'll tell you the best way out of here. Maybe even send over a message to your circle–I've got friends on the other side. And if you decide you want more help, why, I always need a good exarch. What do you say, Echo my boy?"

[Lochar]

Echo accepts the bauble, placing it inside his armor to protect it. "I'll take the information on what you think is the best way out of here, although that is not the information I'm looking for at this moment. I'm looking for information on what might have happened to a, friend, of mine that something of his would have made it's way back here. Do you know the name Iulus?"

[The Demented One]

"Iulus? Oh yes, I knew him." reflects the demon, basking in his opulent seat. "The Dragon chose him, one of the Princes behind the Blessed Isle coup. Some mess that turned out to be, if you ask me. Why do you ask?"

[Lochar]

"I was part of the circle that helped cause that mess up, from your point of view. But Iulus was captured in our city, trying to gain access to the First Age relics underneath it. He revealed enough about himself to cause curiosity, and I was ever curious. Vega died to our circle, and Iulus some time later. As I doubt that The Dragon allows Lytek to chose his Exalted, I assumed that the Exaltation came back here."

Echo turns his glass of wine one way, peering into it's murky depths. "Do you trade in information about the Princes?"

[The Demented One]

"Mmm, perhaps, perhaps. Lore is the only common currency of Hell, after power. Now tell me, what does a Chosen of the Sun want to know about the Infernal Host? Were you planning on joining? Because just ask, and I'll invest you as an akuma. It'd suit you well, unlimited cosmic power. That's one way to get back to Creation, after all."

[Lochar]

"But what would it offer me? Less effort to learn the Charms of your higher? I like my free will, and the main thing you offer is the same thing I can already do."

Echo smiles to himself. "But if Lore is the only common currency beyond power, then perhaps I can help you in that regard. I have been studying the power of the Exaltation from history's standpoint instead of the Occultist's. I've come to some fairly stunning conclusions, if you'd like me to share them with you. A fact for a fact, perhaps? And as an example of what I know..."

The Hellscry Chakra burns on Echo's forehead for a moment, before fading into invisibility. "It begins with the power of the Eclipse and the Fiends."

[The Demented One]

"Oh, don't tease me, little God-King. Tell me, tell me!" The enthusiasm in his voice is a cold calculation, a deception he does not even bother to hide. He knows that Echo sees through his face, and he knows that Echo knows that he knows, and he is entirely pleased with the situation. "If you could tell me a secret my master has withheld from me, why, I'd be obliged to give you something in return, practically." His generosity seems more menace than largesse, and as he stands to pour another round of drinks for the both of you, he seems an eerie shadow, a dark reflection of Echo seen through a cracked mirror. "Lord Echo, I suspect that you and I will be fast friends. Fast friends indeed."

[Lochar]

Echo smiles, the baited hook set. "The Exalts, not just the Solars or the Lunars, but every Exalt created by the gods, was done so to defeat those that would become the Yozi. You know this, you're here now. However, my caste, the Eclipse, was given the power to reach beyond their own abilities, beyond even the perfected excellence of the Unconquered Sun. When the Eclipse draw that power into themselves, they become more than just Solars. We were given the ability to become even more powerful than those who created us, reach beyond the powers granted to us."

Echo looks at the Unquestionable, a dark flash going through his eyes. "We can become as anything, and we draw on everything. With a single crack into a beings power, we become able to take all that they are and give nothing in return."

Sitting back a moment, Echo's voice is a little quiet. "I only came to these conclusions recently, when wresting the power of one of the desert's Charm from it. Do you understand where I am going with this?"

[The Demented One]

"That doesn't sound right..." mutters the demon, running his finger over the crystalline rim of a wineglass. The resultant screech is agonizing, the tortured tenor of a castrato. "What do you mean, a Charm of the Desert? You can't mean...Cecelyne would never bestow her magics one such as you, would she?" Echo cannot help but feel he has earned his smile, hearing the worry in the demon's voice. "What's your game, Solar? Do you threaten me? Do you really think that you frighten me, that you could even wield the least mote of my power?"

[Lochar]

"If I wished to, I could take the time to watch you and learn every one of your Charms. And then improve them, without your gaining a single benefit. I could turn your own Charms against you, force upon you Oaths to never spend a single mote again, save in the defense of Creation." Echo shrugs.

"But why? When Iulus was at our mercy, we discovered that he had abilities that were veritable copies of my own. And he claimed that his Charms came directly from the Yozi themselves. Why would I stoop to the level of stealing charms from a part of the Yozi, when I can take them from the Yozi as a whole?" Shaking his head, Echo's voice seems to mull over the idea. "However, I've found the taste of Yozi Charms to be like sand in my mouth. Nothing worth supping upon. However, for what appears to be Exalted of the Yozi, I imagine the taste is like the finest banquet. What stops one of them from taking everything at the table, and then the table itself?"

Echo plays his hand through the soft light that still flows from his anima, a reminder of his entering the manse walls by deflecting the hungry demon.

"What stops them from taking the whole home the table is in?"

[The Demented One]

"This is blasphemy! This is madness! To even think that the Infernal Host might wield the power of the Demon Princes. Tell me, Sun King, do you wield the power of the Ignis Insidious? Is it his god-spear that comes to your hand, his aegis that shelters you? No, you fool! It is no more yours to command than the Ebon Dragon's puissance is to his Fiends. That magic is sacrosanct, forbidden!" His tirade shows the cracks in his calm facade, a passion boiling over the well-kept cauldron of his heart. "Only those made akuma can know their master's power, those whose very souls are touched by the Yozi–and even then, the darkest depths are denied still to them! If the Green Sun Princes could do as you say, then they would wield the all of the Makers...they could bec–" He cuts himself short, not daring to speak the blasphemies that would draw down the wrath of Orabilis upon even his unquestionable head.

"What truths or lies you speak disturb me, Lawgiver. And thus, let me answer you with mine own disturbing truths. Do you know why it is that the Yozis were able to forge their own Exalted, to transmute the base matter of Solar Exaltations into the Green Sun Princes? You see, there was once a glorious prince who spoke with the Ebon Dragon, who struck bargains and pacts with him. It was he who authored the surrender of the Primordials, he who negotiated the terms of their imprisonment and delivered them unto both the Unconquered Sun and the King of Hell. I'm sure you know his name. Nabonidus. And you see, after the War concluded, he struck one final bargain with the Shadow of All Things. He offered up his own soul to the Dragon, begged that he be made akuma. And so the Dragon reached deep into his exaltation, saw all the secrets of the Sun's Chosen, and poisoned them with his sacred essence. Nabonidus died, but the secrets he betrayed to the Shadow of All Things still bear his legacy. Yes, Rising Echo, hear me! You betrayed all of the Exalted to the Yozis! By your own hand in lives long past were the seeds of Infernal Exaltation laid, the foundation of the Green Sun Princes built!"

[Lochar]

Echo's distaste for the man his Exaltation once was in a previous life shows through the wince that appears on his face. Memories of this spark through his mind, the voice of Nabonidus begging the Shadow for power. "Then I shall just have to atone for prior crimes committed in my own prior name, shan't I?" At least that was one answer.

Echo stands, his anima beginning to flash, though no more essence feeds it. "Do you want proof that the Exalt are moving beyond that which created them? That which created both their Exaltation, and their very selves? Those prior to the gods, those who became the Yozi created the world. The Exaltations were empowered by Ignis Divine."

Holding his hand up, golden and white lighted Essence flares along his hand. "I have discovered a way to permanently imbue Solar aspected Essence into the very soul of a mortal. I create my OWN Exalts. And while I have not perfected it, it is more than your own master can say. For I know now that the Ebon Dragon did not create his own Exalts. No, instead he has somehow gotten hold of Solar Exaltations and bent them to his will."

The essence dies down, as Echo calms himself. "And that is just my own accomplishment. Do you wish to know more of the things that move beyond the Shadow? I am still willing to trade information, Six Masters. Information that would not come from any demon. Or I might trade for the information I want to know for power given to you. As I said, I could improve upon your Charms, and I could even share with you how to form those motes into Charms of your own aspect."

[The Demented One]

"Oh, you have your own golden brood? Interesting tidbit indeed, Lord Echo. You know, your past self, the Lord Nabonidus had not the least intimation that his own failure would teach the Shadow of All Things the secrets he craved. Unintended consequences, Echo. They seem so abundant in this world. Can you know what your own demi-Exalted will do? Can you foretell the motion of your own hand?" He drinks deeply of his wine, waxing philosophical in melodramatic excess. "There is no power you could give to me beyond my own panoply, rest assured. But there is a piece of knowledge I would know, yes. Tell me about the Dragon-Blood girl, the one Ligier spoke of. Roseblack. What of her?"

[Lochar]

Echo calms down a bit, nodding. "While I may not know what the future holds in regards to those I have empowered, they still require my approval to step beyond the boundaries of mortal Essence, or to learn our Charms. Something that, while I didn't consciously intend, I do intend to leave there."

When Six Masters speaks of Roseblack, Echo thinks for a moment. "The General? A woman of strong convictions. After Mnemon declared herself War Shogun, she was most likely taken into custody to prevent her from decrying her. From the way you speak, I assume she is still alive. And if that is the case, I'm assuming Mnemon was neutralized by my circle. I had to discuss with her the secrets of actual Exaltation though. She believed in the teachings of the Immaculate, not knowing that there were other true Exaltations beyond the Terrestrial."

Echo gives the demon an eye. "Everything considered, I did emphasize the fact that those with vitriol anima were Anathema still, however. Golden sun and silver moon, buoyed by maiden's light were protectors of Creation. However, those that burn with the green sun were not."

"Is there something else you would care to know of, about her?"

[The Demented One]

"Oh, no!" laughs Six Masters. "I'd only wanted another firebrand to fling at Ligier, when next he deigns appear in society at all. It is ever so fun to rile that noble demon, it is. Now, glad as I am that are meeting was so...enjoyable...I have my own affairs to intend you. Puppies to kick, as I'm sure you Solars imagine. Run along, and deliver my token to your brothel. I shall see you again later, of course. We still have much to speak of, doubtlessly."

[Lochar]

Echo smiles. "If you want to give Ligier a migraine, I'm all for doing so. Have him watch Ivory closely. She has tricks up her sleeve that will make him scream."

Standing, Echo moves to leave, before pausing. "I'll still hold you to your word that on delivery of this," he touches the bauble inside his armor, "you'll let me know what you consider as ways out of Malfeas that don't include the Investure."

[The Demented One]

With his official business concluded, Rising Echo makes his way back to the Seraglio, grabbing onto the fleshy bulk of the infinitely coiling demon Ii Ma as it twists through the demon city's layers, and riding it all the way back to the Street of Brass Lanterns. Hell appears to be made out of nothing but demons, all of them heaped up on the foundation of the Yozis.

Madame Vercingtorix seems overjoyed when the Eclipse delivers Maertes's crystal bauble to her, her tentacles flailing with excitement as she tucks away the gem. Her spiel of thanks and encouragement is slightly wetter than Echo would have preferred, but he endures it. He returns to his chambers to find them filled with a heaping larder of Creation-born food...or at least, crude imitations of it. Poor Bright Orchard truly has no idea that steak is not meant to writhe on the plate, or that rice really ought not catch on fire when exposed to air.

It is only days until Maertes visits the Seraglio, an entire parade of demons sent forth to announce his presence. After a few hours of earth-quaking debauchery, Echo finds the demon in his own offices, still slick with some sort of corrosive fluids. The ambassador suppresses the urge to retch. After a few pleasantries, he speaks what Echo wants to hear. A way out. The demon Amalion, or so he says, can throw open the gates of Creation, raise up a passage through Cecelyne. Maertes promises–and Echo does not hesitate to seal the promise with Heaven's authority–that through Amalion, he can find home.

Months go by in preparation. When Echo is not meditating on the harsh light of Malfeas's false sun, he trains himself in Solar arts, or else executes cases on behalf of the Seraglio. None of the offenders are of such stature as the Six Masters, and there are few who do not immediately heed his word. Excellent practice for his new Charms. Once he is satisfied that he can withstand Amalion's presence, the seductive smile that Maertes delighted in warning him of, he sets out. Bright Orchard insists on following him, promising Echo that she can help in some way. Much as he doubts the neomah will be of any avail in dealing with her great-aunt, he nevertheless allows her to come along, an attache to the Exalted lawyer.

The manse is a cathedral, a many-spired thing of black marble. The sigil carved into its doors is the same one Maertes described, a ninefold labyrinth. Bright Orchard knocks, rapping demonic flesh against demonic flesh, and proclaims her entrance. "Bright Orchard, progeny of the Burning Yoni, progeny of the Street of Golden Lanterns, soul of the Demon City, and Rising Echo, Chosen of the Sun. O, Manse of Echoes Ascending, we would have entrance!" It is much to her embarrassment that Echo simply turns the doorknob, finding the manse entirely unlocked.

"Hello, Bright Orchard, Rising Echo." Amalion smiles upon seeing her demon-niece, and the neomah seems to flush with sudden enthrallment. However, she averts her gaze from Echo. The God-King burns with a majestic radiant presence, and the demon does not dare turn eyes upon him until she has swathed her face behind a veil of indigo silk, pulled from the heavy essence of the air. "Allow me to introduce myself, young Exalt. I am Amalion, Manse of Echoes Ascending, the Fifth Soul of Malfeas. I must admit, it has been many years since I have walked Creation or spoken unto your kind, so forgive me if I forget the proper forms. It is rare opportunity in Malfeas that one has chance to make practice of their manners, after all. Make yourself at ease within my home, and we shall speak."

The demon waves her hand, and suddenly the black nave in which you stand is transformed. Dark stone becomes bright alabaster and polished gold, menacing architecture uncoils and folds into clean angles and geometrically pleasing designs, and sunlight–golden sunlight–fills the whole manse through. Pillars of orichalcum uphold a high, vaulted roof, decorated with cherub-faced gargoyles that lurk amid the buttresses. "Something more familiar for you, my dear. Shall we have a light tea, or do you come on more serious business?"

[Lochar]

Echo watches as the manse changes, and smiles himself as the manse changes to reflect Creation's aesthetics. "I am many times on business, Lady Amalion, but I would never turn down an offer for tea and talk from you. Quiet memories from long ago remind me of the love you shared with one of my brothers, and I would do you no discourtesy of being so abrupt with you."

[The Demented One]

"Oh, thank you! It has been so long since I've had polite company. Here, I'll just have the kitchen bring something over..." Another handwave, and a wrought-iron table appears before you, heaped high with chocolate-drizzled scones and buttery croissants. Amalion lifts a bone teapot from it, and pours out a cup for all three of you. Delightfully minty. "Now, I can already guess what business would bring you to Hell, Echo dear. If it's a manse you'd like, I'm afraid I cannot work anything in Creation without being properly summoned in. Can't go through my own doors, that'd be cheating the rules."

[Lochar]

Echo accepts a cup gratefully, sipping it. Delightful, something that didn't have the aftertaste of Malfeas. "No, actually. I wasn't looking for a manse at the moment. Actually, I was looking for some information I hoped you might have, and also to try to retain your services for a passage back to Creation when I am finished with my business here in Malfeas."

Echo looks over the now more Solar looking manse wistfully, enjoying it's beauty. "Either way, I think I should have called upon you earlier. You have a unique ability, Amalion, to bring comfort to those here who are not of the demon city."

[The Demented One]

Amalion gingerly sips at her tea mug through the swaying silks of her veil, seeming quite happy with herself. "Information? Well, I'm afraid I'm not quite the demon you'd want, unless you'd like a lesson in geomancy."

[Lochar]

"Not geomancy, no, but I was hoping you could tell me more about the Infernals. Knowing you as the ultimate in manse creation, I can see them doing their best to try to get you to work for them. Since while you cannot cross into Creation without an invitation, you could likely create as many manses as you chose here in Malfeas."

Echo touches the bone china to his lips, sipping on the tea as he lets Amalion think through his comments. "I've learned that they are Solars, Amalion. Corrupted Solars, who are no longer what they once were."

He really hated playing on things like this, but it couldn't be helped. It also helped that he could be right, as well. Memories from the past, a good friend. "That which made them special has been ripped out. I want to restore that to them. There were only three hundred Solars, it's likely your former husband has been corrupted beyond what he was, if his Exaltation is now one of them. What made him special no longer exists, if he is an Infernal. I need to learn everything I possibly can about them."


First Presence Excellency, 9 personal motes.

[roll0]

[The Demented One]

"The Infernal Exalted...yes, I know of them. I raised up the Conventicle Malfeasant, their meeting place, and scores of other manses besides. The Champions of the Yozis. But you say they are corrupted Solars? That...that my Five Moons might be one of them?" A tension fills her voice, an awful fragility. The demon looks as if she might cry. "What might you need know? They are chosen by the Demon Princes themselves, the broken and downtrodden heroes of Creation. They send forth demons bearing the Exaltation, and when the candidate accepts, it binds to his soul. They have power inspired by the Yozis themselves, just as he–the Solars, I mean–have power like unto that of the Unconquered Sun. The Yozis have kept them close at hand so far. Not ready, yet, for war."

[Lochar]

Echo nods once, slowly. "A demon bears the Exaltation? Do they send souls of strength such as yours? Or would they be specialized demons of a rank lower than yours?"

Echo obviously believes that they wouldn't trust anyone but the most powerful of demons to deliver the power of an Exaltation.

"Amalion, I promise you. I am trying to rescue all the Solars from the twisting placed upon them. They Exalt downtrodden heroes of Creation, but I would lay talents of jade against the fact that had it not been a demon carrying the Exaltation, they would have Exalted before becoming downtrodden."

"If I find Five Moons among them, when his Exaltation returns to being a Solar, I will bring the newly Exalted to you. Either here, or have you summoned to Creation. I cannot promise that you will find the same love again, but I will swear to give you the chance. I just have to get his and the other Exaltations back to the way they were."


Irresistable Salesman this time. Spending a Willpower to channel Conviction through.

[roll0]

Double the successes.

Will: 6/7

Personal: 14/22

[The Demented One]

"No, they send but the lowliest of their souls. The Demon Princes command their cults in Creation to summon the demon emissary, and it seeks out the candidate in mere days. Even if the demon were to die, it would be but inconvenience. The Exaltations themselves are tethered to that vile machine of the Dragon, the 'Lillun.' Echo, I cannot defy the Yozis, I cannot defy Malfeas. He is not simply my master, but my very self. I am but a facet of his greater totality, an avatar of his consciousness...but I cannot abide this. Bring me my Five Moons, set him free."

[Lochar]

Echo's face drops for a moment, before firming. "How would I speak with the Dragon himself then? Would I contact his first soul, or do you know of a way to speak directly with the Dragon without going through his souls?"

[The Demented One]

"To speak with the Dragon? But wait till night and call his name, Lawgiver. He could not deny the chance to taunt his captors. But I warn you, no good can come of it. Every persuasion, every argument, every deal would only bring you closer to doom. Better scorn the Dragon, Rising Echo, than accept his kindness."

[Lochar]

Echo stands, setting aside his tea. He then bows to Amalion. "When next we meet, I will need a path to Creation as soon as you can do so. I may or may not have a traveling companion, but in either case, I swear to you, I will find the Exaltation of Five Moons, and bring the two of you together."

Turning to Bright Orchid, he looks at her quietly. "You'll want to stay out of what will happen next, Orchid. Stay here and hide if Amalion will allow it, or go back to the Black Lotus. Either way."

[The Demented One]

Amalion's grandmotherly brows crease with concern, and she just stops short of reaching out to touch the God-King. "Very well, Rising Echo. Bright Orchard, would you go and fetch my book of tales, the one bound in erymanthoi-hide? I would read a tale to you, a legend of old." The neomah scampers away into the halls of the Manse, distracted by Amalion's commanding words. The demon turns to you, her gaze stern and severe. "I am glad you came to speak with me, it does my heart good to know the Sun's Chosen are well. My doors stand always unbarred to you and yours, Lawgiver. May you walk unburned beneath the green sun, and may the peace of Adorjan never fall upon you." She reaches deep into the folds of her dress, and produces a ring of tarnished gold, set with a stone that shimmers a faint sky-blue. "Take this. It was the wedding band I gave to Five Moons, so many ages ago. If you truly wish to speak with the Shadow of All Things, it will be some small boon in your favor. Goodbye, Echo."

[Lochar]

Rising Echo takes the ring and holds onto it for a moment, before nodding solemnly. "Thank you, Amalion. May you know the peace of a long, uneventful life." Smiling gently, Echo leaves the manse, his mind firming as he considers the many things he would need to say and counter with against a demon of such caliber.

Golden essence whips around Echo as he activates a single Charm, designed to give him peace from the others around him. Demons nearby, already somewhat skittish to see the Eclipse wandering the streets, now tend to bow and immediately move away.

Clothing shifts as his amulet begins to shine with it's own radiance, and a hidden cloak swirls around his body, and Echo vanishes. Reappearing on the roof of a nearby building Echo sits in a Lotus position, his mind clearing of all problems as he meditates to regain every scrap of Essence he has spent.

Echo sits in that position for several hours, activating his magic time after time and forcing his body into alignment to draw upon the prayers that are sent to him, keeping him brimming with essence.

Finally, echoes rise from the Demon City. A thousand, ten thousand or more even, screams. Night has fallen.

Activating several Charms, Echo waits for a few last prayers, burning into his mind their feeling, before rising.

Echo's voice seems to boom out over the local area of the city, even though he does not raise it.

"Ebon Dragon, Shadow of All Things. I am Rising Echo, Eclipse of Ignis Divine. I hold the Exaltation of Nabonidus, and I WILL speak with you now.

[The Demented One]

The night ripples. Sinuous waves of motion cross the face of the darkness, a tremor in the sky. The errant wisps of Hegra’s storm clouds disappear, and the strange false starlight of Pyria is swallowed up in the moving black. The winds of hell cease their deadly course, and even the Silent Wind does not stalk this silence. Every demon gazes skyward to see the night itself uprooted from the firmament of the sky, twisting, winding, rising. Gently, slowly, ever so ominously, the Ebon Dragon rears his head, coiling upward until he can see the shining mote beneath him, the light that burns with such familiar light. Eyes like dead stars gaze downward, and a singular flame is reflected in their irises.

The darkness of night is but his underbelly, and now he peers down at a world cast in shadow, the world beneath his reign. His shape is only shadows, the shadows of all things. Silhouettes of moths and locusts skitter at his edges, the noiseless beating of dark wings blurring into the smooth ebon scales of the dragon. The shades of whales and yeddim are his muscles and sinews, strung through a skeleton carved from the dark reflections of every spire and reef of coral in Creation’s oceans. The whiskers that hang down from his jaw are ten thousand thousand snakes and serpents, cast in dark relief and twined together. When he speaks, his tongue is as the shadow of the great Kukla herself. And he speaks to you now.

“Rising Echo. You stand in the shadows that are my essence, and shout challenge after empty challenge up at me? Welcome! I am the Ebon Dragon, the Shadow of All Things. It was I who made the seven colors of Creation that all might see how black I was; I who authored Fate itself, that I might defy it! When the world was young, I tore out my own soul with these very teeth, and cast it up into the sky to become the hateful sun–the same sun that chose to send you here, to the very heart of Hell!"

"Do you remember how you stood here, once before, ages ago? How you begged me, begged on your knees, to help you? You must! So now you’ve crawled back to me again? What’s wrong now, Nabonidus? Has one of my kin come back to destroy Creation? Do the Neverborn stir in their crypts? Or maybe your wife has been talking back to you again? Tell me, tell me all! The Ebon Dragon loves nothing more than to help.”

[Lochar]

As the night sky itself tears away and speaks to Echo, a faint shimmer of memory rises to the surface. The words spoken by Nabonidus long ago, and the feeling of truly infinite power as his soul was connected to that of the Yozi before him.

Echo felt almost drawn to say those same words once more, to feel that feeling of limitless power. But then the second, hidden feeling arose. The connection broken, his soul bound to the demon with truly nothing more given that he could not have gotten himself. Grief at learning that although he had sold his soul, he would never gain unlimited power. Not from an already beaten foe.

And Echo knew what had happened. The Ebon Dragon had used his prior self as a template on which to build his own corruption to place into the Solars. And he would not let the Yozi touch his soul, his Exaltation, ever again.

Golden light flared from his body, illuminating the streets of Malfeas, giving definition to the shadow above him in an attempt to pierce the first and final darkness. There would be no quarter in this battle of wills, no victory save the utter defeat of his enemy.

"Ebon Dragon. I do not come before you to bargain for power, nor to beg for your aid. Nay, I come before you to make demands. Demands that you will accede to, for your own sake."

Echo's voice is solemn and stately. There is no challenge in his voice now, only fact. To his mind, the battle was already mapped out, the challenges that would be given and beaten by him, and challenges put forth that the Shadow would fail.

"You Will tell me everything of your creation of the Infernal Exalted, including how you managed to get hold of the Exaltations to begin with. You Will give me Lillun, that which holds the Exaltations of the Solars you have corrupted beyond Akuma. And you Will do so now."


Spending a Willpower to invoke my combo.

Two social attacks, one for how he got the Exaltations, one for giving me Lillun.

First Attack: First Presence 6 motes, Enemy Castigating 2 motes, Irresistible Salesman 3 motes. Cha 4 + Presence 5 + Pectoral 2 + Execellency 6 -2 MAP.
[roll0]
Double successes, half Ebon's MDV. Holy social attack. Unnatural Mental Influence, has to pay 2 willpower to negate.

Second Attack: First Presence 7 motes, Enemy Castigating 2 motes, Irresistible Salesman 3 motes. Cha 4 + Presence 5 + Pectoral 2 + Execellency 6 -3 MAP.
[roll1]
Double successes, half Ebon's MDV. Holy social attack. Unnatural Mental Influence, has to pay 2 willpower to negate.

23 motes, 1 willpower spent. All Peripheral.

Echo's MDV:
Dodge (Willpower+Essence+Integrity)/2=(7+5+3)/2=15/2: 7
Parry

Motes:
Personal: 22/22
Peripheral: 26/51 (Solar Glory 0/10)
Committed: 5(Amulet), 2(Pectoral), 5 (Cloak)

Willpower: 6/7

Prior activated Charms:
Integrity protecting Prana (1wp) (Echo drew upon his Cult rating to restore this WP)
Majestic Radiant Presence (Difficulty 2 Valor roll to physically or socially attack. 3 willpower to ignore for the scene. Cha+Perform roll against target's MDV to re-establish after ignored.)
Authority-Radiating Stance (Anyone with an MDV less than 14 is under an Illusion Effect that is Unnatural mental influence that I'm your superior. 2 willpower to ignore)

[The Demented One]

The light of Echo’s anima casts the Ebon Dragon in stark relief, his totemic anima spreading its wings wide around him. A blazing rune shines upon the totem-owl’s brow, the first word of surrender spoken by the conquered titans–and in the black pools of the dragon’s eyes, that word is reflected in undiminished brilliance, seared upon the countless shadows of his form. As Rising Echo commands the Yozi’s obedience, there is something weak in those eyes, something pathetic and craven. The Eclipse Caste has always known how to take the measure of a man, how to know the brave from the meek, the kind from the cruel, and the fiend he speaks to is a coward. He almost wonders why anyone ever feared the Shadow.

And as those stern words of command echo against the brazen walls of the Demon City, the Ebon Dragon answers. His jaws gape wide, his behemoth tongue lolling forth in its countless forked tapers, each one a serpent licking at the air. His voice is the archetype of mockery, laughing and condescending all at the same time. Overwhelmed by the sonorous kaleidoscope of the Yozi’s voice, the countless humiliations hidden in every undertone, Rising Echo almost loses sight of the fact that the Dragon answers him. Mock him it may, but the Shadow of All Things gives up what Echo wishes, his only resilience that which he cannot abide.

“The story of the Green Sun Princes is my most favorite, of course I’ll tell it to you! Once upon a time, all Creation was ruled by the Sun’s Chosen, from the depths of the underworld to the summit of Meru. Their rule was enforced by the daiklave’s edge in war, and by words irresistible in peace. They were great and terrible, god-kings and monsters, and they only grew more terrifying as the centuries passed! Do you know why? I’ll let you guess! That’s not important for this story.

But that didn’t last forever! The Sidereal Exalted, my own accidental grand-children, plotted and prophesied, scheming against their lords and rulers. They cut down the Sun’s Chosen, every last one of them, and bound their exaltations up in a most strange and fearsome prison! I wonder who taught them how to make it? I wonder why it only worked by Calibration’s darkness? I don’t know! Isn’t that strange, don’t you think?

The Seers sunk their prison down to the depths of the oceans, thinking that no one would ever find it. They even broke the stars to make sure! But you see, I knew exactly where it was. They could hide their treachery from almost every one, but no traitor escapes me, not when I invented it! Of course, I had no intentions of spoiling their secret, but I let slip the resting place of the prison to my own half-brothers, the dead Neverborn. It was a big mistake!

The Neverborn captured the prison, gobbled it up with one of their prize hekatonkires. But it all went wrong! The prison cracked open, and half the exaltations went free, blessing mortals across creation with the Unconquered Sun’s light. That was when you first Exalted! Now, the Neverborn had caught half the exaltations still, but they were so grateful for my help that they gave most of them to me! Now, you may not know me very well, but I am awfully clever, entirely too much for my own good. I found a way to turn Solar Exaltation into Infernal Exaltation, and then I did it! Lots of fancy words you wouldn’t understand, of course, on account of me being a cosmic overgod.

Now, I decided to share the Infernal Exaltations with my brothers and sisters, being a generous dragon I. That’s where they came from! I did it! Me! Wasn’t it a good story? Everyone loves it. And you see, that’s why I can’t just hand them over to you. It doesn’t make a very good ending, ‘And then I gave them back to Rising Echo and he went and made them all Solar again,’ does it? No, no, no. How about instead, you come to me, let me explain it all to you?

You must understand, we’re quite often maligned, we Yozis. I think it better that you see how it truly was. How we created the world, the gods, the mortal races–and then were betrayed at their hands! You must know, Echo, that the Unconquered Sun only overthrew our glorious reign that he might steal our Games of Divinity. Ask yourself, what has the Sun done for Creation? Why does he not put right all that is wrong with the world? It was all an accident, really. The Games are beyond the will of anything less than Primordial to withstand. Poor Ignis Divine, he’s probably clinging to them even as we speak.

So let us do something even better than just restoring the shards, lets! Wouldn’t it be wonderful if you could purify all the stolen exaltations, reunite the Solar Deliberative, and free the Unconquered Sun from his own fetters all at once? I think that would be nice. I could help you, you know. Tell you just how to get to him, how to make him listen. How does that sound?”

[Lochar]

Ignis Divine, enslaved to the Games he plays? Only having brought the Primordials down to take over the Games for himself?

No. NO. "NO!" Golden essence flared through the night sky once more, his anima screeching silently in protest. "Ebon Dragon, you are a liar unless forced to speak the truth. Hear me, all of Malfeas and listen to my words." Again, silence spread for hundreds of feet, as the pectoral Echo wore spread his words to everyone. "The Yozi Ebon Dragon, the Shadow of All Things, shadows the truth, never giving it. He lies."


Echo scowls at the flying night, the premier liar. "You are not a raksha tied to play the part in your story. You who live nothing but lies and deception should not have an issue with breaking the mold of a story. You Will give me Lillun."

Echo pauses, thinking over the story for a half second. "And as a matter of fact, I do think I don't need to guess. You Will tell a second story now, the story of why the God-Kings of old grew so horrible. Why those such as Desus sunk to the depths of nearly destroying his own mate. Tell Me."


6 motes to Opinion Swaying Solar Countermand to perfectly parry.
Spending 2 motes to again activate Enemy Castigating, to lower Ebon's MDV by half for my reflexive Cha+Performance. Cha 4, Perform 4, Pectoral 4.
[roll0]


Combo again.

5 motes per attack, plus whatever I spend on First.

Cha 4+Presence 5+Pectoral 2+First Excellency 4- MAP 2.
[roll1]
Double successes, halve MDV. Holy UMI.

Cha 4+Presence 5+Pectoral 2+First Excellency 3 - MAP 3..
[roll2]
Double successes, halve MDV. Holy UMI.

17 motes spent, 6 regained from previous stunt.

Motes:
Personal: 22/22
Peripheral: 7/51 (Solar Glory 0/10)
Committed: 5(Amulet), 2(Pectoral), 5 (Cloak)

Willpower: 5/7

Prior activated Charms:
Integrity protecting Prana (1wp) (Echo drew upon his Cult rating to restore this WP)
Majestic Radiant Presence (Difficulty 2 Valor roll to physically or socially attack. 3 willpower to ignore for the scene. Cha+Perform roll against target's MDV to re-establish after ignored.)
Authority-Radiating Stance (Anyone with an MDV less than 14 is under an Illusion Effect that is Unnatural mental influence that I'm your superior. 2 willpower to ignore)

[The Demented One]

“You are right, I suppose. I am far superior to those infant cosmos that choke the Wyld, with all their pretensions of primordialhood. I am the Ebon Dragon! I created myself out of nothing, shaped the inchoate chaos into my own self before I even existed! Those protoshinmaic abortions simply blundered into blind existence, collapsing out of possibilities with no rhyme or reason. So unsightly. If I wish to break free of my own legend, to cheat the rules of my existence, then I do so! I spite everyone and everything, abiding by no order but my own urges! But that’s exactly why I can’t give the Lillun to you, you see. I just don’t want to! If I obeyed you and gave it over, then I would be no better than everyone else who isn’t the Ebon Dragon!

But don’t let that frustrate you, oh no! If you can’t have the phylactery womb, maybe you’ll at least settle for something greater. Rising Echo, what I tell you is the secret history of the Exalted, things known by neither god nor man in all the cosmos. Jupiter stares blindly into samsara’s warp and weft, Sacheverell contemplates the singular infinities of all time and space, but neither of them know this one most precious secret. I will tell you now why the Lord Nabonidus and the Solar Host with him descended into depravity, why the Chosen of the Stars rose up in blind rebellion, why all Creation has been diminished and darkened. Rising Echo, I tell you of the Great Curse.

I spoke before of the Unconquered Sun, and how I created him. Every titan has at their heart the fetich, the soul that defines the all of their nature. It’s the rule, the very axiom that defines our primordial nature. But I cheated! I ripped out my own soul and turned it into something else, a light that would cast mine own shadows in definition. Oh, what great friends we were, Ignis Divine and I. We were inseparable in the Age of Glories, before his greed ate away at our most happy friendship. You know how that turned out, Echo. My own son, my greatest friend, smote me and struck me down. He cast me out from the world I created, and shed no tears at my loss.

But even as he betrayed me, he was still of my own brood. At the heart of the Unconquered Sun burns only darkness, a shard of my essence within his own. And at core of every exaltation he forged alongside the traitor Autochthon, there is a single mote of shadow. In the Age of Glories, when I reigned from my rightful throne, this primordial wellspring was the font of Ignis Divine’s might, the power I so generously blessed him with. And when he forged it into the exaltations, when he stole my own essence to make you, I was helpless to escape. In an act of trust and friendship I have gifted him with power that I could never claim back, and he turned it into a weapon leveled at my head.

And that, Echo, is the Great Curse. So long as I am deposed, so long as I cannot sit upon my throne, the whole of my being weeps in agony and in loss. The same essence that flows through my veins flows through yours, and in my fallen and mutilated state it is as poison. In every Solar’s secret heart, they know that the world is wrong, that is knows not its true king–and this secret wisdom, this dharma they cannot bear to know, breeds madness. Oh, that I could but spare you! But I am powerless. Until the Sun turns away from his Games, and beckons me back to my rightful place, you are cursed and doomed by his own hubris. The world should not be so...and I miss my friend.”

[Lochar]

Echo stares at the Shadow of All Things, stares in disbelief of the words it has spoken. Then he chuckles before breaking out into a full out laughter, his own anima shaking in silent mirth. Echo calms for a moment and the owl looks at the Dragon before breaking up into gold and silver light, it's mirth destablizing the essence keeping it totemic. "You, a King because of Ignis Divine? You are not King here, nor were you ever King in Creation. You bumble your words in trying to confuse me and make me believe such an apparent lie.

And even that light dimmed slightly as Echo looked up at the Yozi, his voice clearing. "Every great lie has at it's center a seed of truth. However, in your attempts to confuse me, you buried and bleed on that seed so much that your lies could not gain ground. But still, that seed remains."

Echo looks around to the demon city, and notes the nigh empty streets, every sensible demon of the first, and likely second, Circle has vacated the premise.

"So let us set aside for the moment Lillun, for we shall come back to that. Instead, let us speak of this Great Curse, which is the seed of truth you trampled over. What is the actual truth, oh King of Liars. What is the Great Curse?"


6 motes to perfect the prior attack.

Echo is not using any Charms in his social attack.
[roll0]

Picking up 2 willpower from the prior stunts.

Ending Majestic Radiant Presence.

When Ebon attacks back, this is the stunt I will be using.


The gold and silver light that flows around Echo springs to life once more as the owl reforms, the burning Old Realm word on it's forehead reminding the Ebon Dragon of it's failure to win over the Exalted of old, and the Solar that stands before him is protected by those same Oaths that bind him now. The coward Dragon is called out to prove itself against it's own Oaths, to prove that it can stand to be outlined by the light of the sun.

Reflexive activation of Radiant Majestic Presence for 7 motes on Step 2, pay 3 willpower to ignore or roll his Valor. It's step 2, so he's got to declare his attack and Charms before Echo forces the choice for Willpower.

Echo will spend his own 5 Willpower if need be to refute Ebon's statements.

Motes:
Personal: 22/22
Peripheral: 1/51 (Solar Glory 0/10)
Committed: 5(Amulet), 2(Pectoral), 5 (Cloak)

Willpower: 7/7

Prior activated Charms:
Integrity protecting Prana (1wp) (Echo drew upon his Cult rating to restore this WP)
Authority-Radiating Stance (Anyone with an MDV less than 14 is under an Illusion Effect that is Unnatural mental influence that I'm your superior. 2 willpower to ignore)

[The Demented One]

The Ebon Dragon shakes his head, casting far-off shadows for distant miles around. Screams erupt across Malfeas as night falls out of its ordered measure, and cacophony drives back Adorjan from her skulking recesses. The Shadow of All Things looks down upon you, his aspect marked with indelible sadness, with utter despair.

"Echo, Echo, Echo, why must you be so spiteful? It is all to easy to hide behind your charms, to balk at every word I speak and throw it back with your little magics. But how can you really know whether it is a truth or a lie you refuse? And what happens when you simply decide to reject anything that does not please you? That’s what Nabonidus did, in the end. He cracked his own mind until he could never be persuaded against his whims, only hearing what he wished to hear. And when those closest to him tried to save him from his own solipsism, he violated their deepest selves, wrote his own will upon the slate of their souls.

That is the Great Curse, Echo. So long as the world is fallen, bereft of its rightful order, its rightful chain of being, the Exalted can never be free of it. You will always know the temptation of power, the ease of apotheosis. You could be as he was. It would be so easy. Already, you can defy me, refuse to hear the truths that I, Creator of Creation, do speak! How could anyone else hope to succeed where I have failed? Instead of its squabbling shoguns and petty god-kings, Creation would have a true master, an unconquered tyrant to sit on the world’s throne! So easy.

And until the world is restored to rightness, until the Primordials once again reign, and the Unconquered Sun is redeemed, and all Heaven and Earth are put back in order, you will never escape that temptation. The darkness in your breast will always burn with poisonous ambition, will always seek to right what once went wrong with its own blind madness. Please, Echo, I beg of you, let me help. I cannot bear to see my greatest triumph cast into the fires of degeneration, the pit of dissolution. Help me, that I may help you. You can show Ignis Divine the truth, you can lead the world back to righteousness. Echo, you could be the savior of all Creation."

[Lochar]

Echo looks weighed upon for a long moment, before looking up at the Shadow of All Things. "Maybe... Perhaps you have a point, Lord Dragon." he lies through his teeth, though his eyes give nothing away.

A flicker of shadow passes through Echo's anima as the owl breaks apart completely, leaving just the aura surrounding him. Even his anima appears disappointed in the Exalt.

Echo bows before the night ripped from the Malfean sky, his cloak rippling behind him as the Solar aura from the pendant he wears vanishes, leaving a more humble man in its wake. "May I have some time to consider your words more completely, before returning to you? I have an idea on your oaths, my Lord, that might be beneficial to allowing one of the Yozi to return to their rightful place, but it would possibly involve following my predecessor's path. Such an endeavor is not something I would enter into lightly, and would prefer to meditate on it."

[The Demented One]

The Ebon Dragon's jaws split, sliding wide into a grotesquerie of a smile. Ligier's light glints faintly off his teeth, casting a blasphemous black rainbow in the sky. Beneath the weight of that baleful grins, shadows flicker and dance, demons wither and pale, and even the brazen foundation of Malfeas begins to crumble. Echo feels a faint disquiet, but nothing more, the dark curse of the Dragon's pleasure powerless against his own charms. Booming laughter harangues the skies, setting all the firmament quivering, a maniacal peal of glee.

"Excellent. With the two of us united, Echo, we can overcome even the blackest night. I have told you already that it was I who forged your patron, shaped him from my own innermost essence, have I not? I forget! But nevertheless, you are Grand-Chosen of the Ebon Dragon, my worthiest ally among all the Solar Host. Go unto your meditations, ponder the deep secrets of samsara that I first set in order. I have no doubt that your wisdom will lead you to the right choice, so that together, you and I might reclaim the past glories of Creation. All the world will know the light of a new dawn, the light of the sun restored to righteousness, and all the world will hail you as its messiah. Farewell, Rising Echo!"


The Shadow of All Things ascends unto the skies, his infinite jouten once more casting the dark of night over the Demon City. Echo turns to return to Amalion, still reeling from the cacophonous thunder of the Yozi's voice. Charismatic and suave as he is, the Shadow of All Things speaks with all the beauty of a coyote's howl, a deep atonal screeching. The Eclipse all but laughs. He's bargained with the Ebon Dragon! Bargained, and not been bought!

He indulges in a hearty chuckle–but his laughter is soon choked out by a pained cough. A tightness constricts his chest, an indelible pressure upon his heart. He wipes at his mouth, and pulls away a strand of viscous black tar, a venin still dribbling from his lips. But he stands, shaking off whatever malady afflicts him. A parting gift from the Shadow of All Things, surely. But nothing Echo cannot overcome. He's sure of it.

[Lochar]

Echo looks at the string of black tar in his hand, before flinging it to the side. He looked towards the manse of Amalion, before feeding a fraction of his remaining essence to his cloak.

The light blue cloak fluttered in an unseen wind, wrapping itself around Echo's body as a hood came up of it's own accord. Essence flared for a moment from it, before it seemed to crumple in on itself, Echo's body gone, before the cloak itself disbursed into threads on the wind.

Echo reformed at the front door to the manse of Amalion, and hesitated before touching the door.

You know what you did wrong, don't know, Rising Echo? A voice from the past thrummed through his mind, one he hadn't heard in a long time. He'd long since gotten used to flashes of his prior Exaltation that spoke, voicing his own thoughts.

But his father? A man he hadn't really thought about in years, since he'd been driven away from his home by the Immaculates?

He bowed his head, thinking to himself. I went off without a plan. I let me emotions get the best of me, hearing of the lost Solars. I should have planned, learned more about my opponent. Learned what I could use against him at the bargaining table.

You only make that mistake once, my boy. You know that, and you got off easy this time. Next time you bargain with your life and freedom, you may not walk away with both. The voice was silent.

Nodding to himself and coughing once, feeling the tar moving in his lungs, Echo pushed against the door to the manse, it opening easily. As it opened, Echo let the Charm of authority drop, but brought up his majestic aura once more. Amalion was sweet, but he couldn't give in a fight twice this night.


Walking into the manse, Echo breathed slowly, his eyes darker than they had been when he left. He peered around, looking for Amalion.

[The Demented One]

"Rising Echo. You, Prince of the Earth, are an idiot." observes Amalion, conjuring up a plush divan for you to lie on. Bright Orchard assaults the Eclipse Caste as soon as he collapses onto it, swathing his forehead in damp cloths and forcing all manner of herbs and tinctures into his mouth. "I hadn't even imagined that you'd actually try that. To think that you'd try to talk him into handing over the Lillun...I don't know which frightens me more. That you would ever think of that plan, or that you would come so close to succeeding." The demon frets and fusses over you like your own grandmother, poking and prodding at the ebon poison that suppurates from every pore. "And I don't even know what this is. Yozi venom, but not any strain I've ever known. All the more reason not to talk with the Shadow; he ruins everything he touches. Oh, Echo." clucks the Manse of Echoes Ascending. "What do you do now? Do you really intend to go through with this plot?"

[Lochar]

Echo laughs feebly when he is pushed onto the divan, but frowns at the amount of poison that is wiped from his brow. "I was partially protected from the venom by way of a Charm, although I do not think I managed to get away from nearly as much as I might have wished."

Sinking into the divan for a moment, Echo listens to the rest of Amalion's comment. "Yes, but I need some more time, unfortunately. I bargained for more time with him, but I do not think I will be able to do so again. I went off half cocked, without thought, without exploring all my options. The fact that I made it so well is half a miracle in it's own right." Pulling the ring from his finger, he offers it back to Amalion. "And because of this. Thank you for it's help, but it belongs with you. When I go against the Shadow again, I may ask to borrow it one more time, however."

Echo coughs and a fairly ugly globe of black yuck comes out of his throat. "And I need to get this healed. Is there a demon in Malfeas that can heal Yozi venom?"

[The Demented One]

"Thank you for the ring back, dear. You want another manse, just tell me, but you've greater concerns for now. Yozi venom is not just another poison to be healed, Echo. It is the distilled essence of the titans, a condensate of their deepest nature. No demon can ever cure the venom of a Yozi, not any more than they could defy them." explains Amalion, checking Echo's temperature against the back of her hand. Gone is her veil, but Rising Echo has no need to fear the demon's smile, her lips drawn up in a worried frown. "But do not despair. If you walk along Kimbery's shores, where they lap at the Silver Forest's roots, you will find the House of Mylitta. She is Chosen, a Green Sun Prince, and her touch is balm to heal all wounds. A cruel woman, but she holds fast to her oaths. Else, there is Creation. I can unbar my gateways, let you flee this hell. It would be the better choice. But I think I see now that you were not Chosen for making cautious decisions, were you?"

[Lochar]

Echo gives a slight smile himself, a silent chuckle. "no, timidness doesn't define me at all, I would think. This Mylitta, she is Chosen by who? Malfeas, Ebon? I'd hate to walk into another situation blind." Echo sighs, sinking a little into the divan. "Not to mention I'm fairly exhausted from that encounter. I might need a bit of rest before I go see her."

[The Demented One]

"She is Chosen of Pyria, She Who Lives In Her Name. It would be a simple thing to her, your poison. With but a touch it would be cured. She is also utterly incapable of the least empathy. No love, no compassion, no care...only curiosity. But she will heal you, and I can promise that. Mylitta could never turn down something so interesting as the Ebon Dragon's own personal venom." She sighs, taking a mug of soup from Bright Orchard and tipping the yellowish broth in Echo's mouth. "Not my favorite among the Infernal Host, Mylitta. But she'll help you."

[Lochar]

Echo sips the broth without complaint, and then speaks. "I don't think I've ever dealt with one of her Chosen. Perhaps I can approach her from a more neutral standpoint then." he muses.

"Could I possibly impose on you for the night, before I go and speak with her in the morning?"

[Lochar]

Regardless of Amalion's response, Echo will rest the night either there or his room at the Black Lotus Pagoda. His sleep is filled with odd dreams and portents, none of which he remembers in the morning, only waking after many hours with a vague notion of darkness that tries to encroach upon the very sun itself.

Shaking his head slowly, Echo begins his morning by drawing from within the Elsewhere pockets of his clothing the arm and ankle bands that are the armor commissioned by himself and done by the Keeper of the Forge of Night.

His swords are rehung on loops, attuned once more as most of the area sees his aura expand outwards as he attunes to them as well, pushing into the level where he nearly becomes iconic.


Finally, Echo meditates for a while, reinforcing his own energies as he pushes his own boundaries, trying to recenter himself.

Afterwards, Echo leaves and heads to the shores of Kimbery, stopping at them and looking outwards across the acidic sea, not saying anything for a long moment, before turning and walking along her shores, staying well away from the acid lines in the ground where she occasionally swells to. The silver forest of Szoreny lies ahead of him, and Echo wishes to get rid of this poison as soon as possible.

[The Demented One]

Where the sick green waters of Kimbery wash against the same brass-flecked soil where Szoreny spreads its argent boughs, Rising Echo finds a pagoda of perfect crystal, its translucent pentagonal facets shining in the green sunlight. The House of Mylitta, just as Amalion told it. But to the God-King's frustration, he finds his passage barred. A trellis of silver vinery coils and twists around the crystal manse, fungal tumors of mercury smothering any entrance he might hope to find. Shapes and patterns drift across the face of the metalline infestation, reflections of strange improbable tangent realities. And as Rising Echo stands before the infernal overgrowth, his own reflection comes to stand before him, grinning like a fiend. "Echo. Echo. An interesting name, do not you think? Could be the child crying, strange stressed lamentations resounding across the native woods. Or could be a lesser semblance, compression and refraction of an original identity. Which one do you think, Rising Echo? Which one are you?"

[Lochar]

Echo gives his own reflection an interested look, watching as it questioned him.

The Exalted paused at the question, first giving mental questioning as to how it knew his life, but shrugging that off.

"If I am but an Echo of my previous Exaltation, that would make you even less, oh reflection of mine. Instead, I am not just the child's scream nor am I a lesser version of my past self. Instead, I am and will be what Lord Nabonidus should have been. I am the future reflection of greatness, not the partial echo of a broken man who sold himself away."

Echo looks at his reflection calmly. "Now, are you the doorman of the manse, or just a strange passerby? Either way, I have business with Mylitta."

[The Demented One]

"Oh, I don't know, Echo," taunts your reflection, his voice horribly familiar. "I thought we were friends, you and I? Where would our noble hero be without his darker side to struggle ever against, hmm? What do you stand to gain by ignoring me? I've actually come to help. You see, this Mylitta, she's no good. Her head is full of names and numbers, all the sordid sciences of thaumaturgic art. She'd sooner drain you dry of your life's blood than cure you, if it'd offer her some curiosity to study. No, no, no, you're better off without her. The venom you've come down with is only a poison of conscience, absolutely harmless. Trust me, Echo, just turn back. You'll be far healthier if you do."

[Lochar]

"Ah, but one does know what will happen until they try? And part of the game is not struggling against their darker side, but overcoming it. And the pains and prices that we pay to do so. This is but one payment, and one that will not require my life to do so." Echo argues with his own shade, becoming more pleasant as he does so.

[The Demented One]

"Oh, you innocent!" mocks your reflection, growing ever and ever bolder. "Think, my boy. Even if Mylitta leaves you alive, she'll take from you more than you'd like to pay. She can see every warp and weft of your essence, every stain and shadow on your soul. She is the Chosen of the Principle, and just like She Who Lives In Her Name, she will analyze and dissect every last mote of information she can glean from you. You know what the Green Sun Princes are meant for, Echo, don't you? The Reclamation. The War of the Worlds. Some day, every woman and man of the Infernal Host will stand together as one to make war on Creation, to claim its five corners for their masters. Are you willing to divulge your deepest secrets, your every merit and flaw, before she who can only ever be your enemy, your nemesis? What seems a little price may not still seem so when she hoists high the banner of the apocalypse.. You will regret this, Echo."

[Lochar]

"And when I return them to Solars that stand against the Yozi once more? Your plans do not count this, do they, my shadow? Now, Mylitta awaits, whether she knows it or not." Echo looks past his reflection, his eyes looking for another in the reflected world.

[The Demented One]

"As you wish!" jeers Echo's reflection, bowing in mock humility. Echo knows it now, for sure. The voice, the mockery, the subtle aspersions–his reflection can be none other than Maertes! "But, just so you know," drawls the demon, pulling away the caul of mirror-essence that hides his true face, "It's all true. Step into Mylitta's lair, and you might as well deliver your every secret into her hands. My master had hoped to keep his dealings more private, you see. He despises his sister as much as any titan can. Imagine! To be the foremost luminary among demons, the progressive, the revolutionary, the nameless shapeless trickster-god that brings innovation, and to have that barren logician for a sister. Oh well. Go on, Echo. I won't stop you any more."

Maertes shrugs, his demonic aspect now revealed in full. He places one serrated talon of a finger nail against the inward face of the mirror, and drags it against the glass. As Echo's ears burn with the screech of claw against glass, the Six Masters traces out a crude rectangle within the mirror, a simple door. He strikes it from within, and it shatters into countless shards of hollow essence, strewn across the brazen sands of the shore. With his own obstructive demon-reflection gone, Echo finds himself faced with an open portal into the manse, a smooth lacuna bored into its crystalline facets. Carefully stepping over the jagged edges of quicksilver glass, the Eclipse makes his way into the House of Mylitta.

For the first time since entering Hell, Echo finds himself somewhere whose architecture makes any semblance of sense. As he walks the pentagonal hallways that fill the House, he finds that they quite neatly follow the natural seams and vertices of the icosahedral crystal, tracing out the natural structural matrix of the manse. He needs no directions or guide to find where his hostess will be, not in a manse laid out in such exacting and obsessive geomancy–she will be in the center. And as Echo reaches the core of the crystalline manse, he finds that the lacuna he walks opens into a massive inner chamber. In contrast to the sparse, indescribably mundane uniformity of the manse's passageways, this central sanctum is rife with intricate detail. Stacked iron cages hold menageries stolen from across worlds, while racked masses of glassware conduct boiling channels and gelid reservoirs of alchemic reagents. And at the center of it all, playing with an array of galvanic baubles, sits a young woman.

She does not turn to face you as you enter, does not even seem to react. She still prods the electrified orbs of her experiment, noting with apparent pleasure the arcs of lightning essence that result. But she nevertheless bids you welcome, calling out with a voice enthused to all the curiosities of youth. "Rising Echo, I think is your name. I'm imagining that you're a Solar Exalt, and not one who's bothered to learn the least medical charms, right? You wouldn't come to me if you had, and you wouldn't come to me if you could escape back to Creation, and you wouldn't come to me if their was a demon who could heal you, and what all that means is that you've either been poisoned with Yozi venom, or else you've met some interesting strange shaping magic. I suppose it's possible you came to court me, but that's a distinctly improbable contingency. Hello, my name is Mylitta, by the way."

[Lochar]

Echo chuckles internally as Maertes opens the passage for him, before stepping through. Apparently, the lord of lies wasn't the best at being able to tell when he was being lied to. At least, not if he was doing so.

As Echo walked through the manse, he formulated his own thoughts according to what he had been told by both Amalion and Maertes. It would come down to talking to her through her own logic, he assumed.

When he reached the center and heard her address for him, Echo schooled his face, before speaking calmly as well.

"Actually, you have several things wrong there, Mylitta. First, I do have a method of returning to Creation. My work here in the demon city is not done. Second, you are a beauty enough to possibly be courted, though I usually prefer to do so with a woman who will actually face me."

Continuing on, Echo silently allows himself to draw upon his own personal Essence, fueling a quiet Charm. "But you are right in that I have been afflicted with the Ebon Dragon's venom and I do now know any Charms for medical purposes. I have never had the need to do so." And now, the test. "And Rising Echo is just an affection of name I have. You may refer to me as Nabonidus, if you would like. Here I have no need for false names."

Spending 3 motes for Mastery of Small Manners, specifically to boost the fact that Golden Courtier Misdirection makes my lies perfect.

[The Demented One]

The Green Sun Princess turns to face you, her pale laboratory robes twirling gracefully as she does. She stares at you with bulbous eyes, wide with intrigued curiosity. She reaches up with her left hand to sweep the tarry-black hair from in front of a elongated forehead, carelessly brushing it aside. Her right arm hangs limp and useless at her side, wrapped in a cast of gauzy black silk. Despite her strange, half-human countenance, there is a certain esoteric beauty to her, a strange fetishistic grace.

"In that case, you must not wish to return to Creation for some reason, possibly an unfinished task or some kind of exotic addiction. Amusingly, the courtship hypothesis remains valid in this situation, although we will dispose with that theory out of hand. It's interesting, though, because you used some kind of magic when you spoke to me, and I wonder why exactly you would do that although it is irrelevant. I will cure your poison, although I would be interested in taking a small sample of it and believe I can in fact do both simultaneously. Strip, and take a seat on that desk, except don't sit on the genesis assembly because that would be thoroughly frustrating. I'll be with you as soon as I've calibrated this."

[Lochar]

Echo gives her a frank, appraising glance before smiling. "Is it your choice to keep yourself that way, or Pyrian forces that do so? As a medic, I would assume you have the capability to fix at the very least your own arm. But either way, while you're not the most beautiful person in all the worlds, you are far from the worst."

Echo deactivates his amulet's clothing, simple brown leathers appearing in their place. Shucking them off without pause, he carefully shifts onto the desk, making sure to stay as far away from any apparatus as he can.

Fiddling with a small golden wristbrace, he watches bemusedly as Mylitta works for a moment. "Do you enjoy your life here, Mylitta?" Echo asks, to fill the silence.

[The Demented One]

"I am not broken, Nabonidus. While it is true that this arm is at the moment paralyzed, it is irrelevant with regard to my everyday manual activities. While your exaltation graced you with holy light and a persuasive voice, my own blessed me with cosmic super-science and the power to bend time and space. Observe." Her brow flashes with emerald light, a poisonous chakra of infernal essence blazing as a third eye. Echo is lifted from the ground, driven up into the air by some unseen force, the phenomenal cosmic power of Mylitta's mind-hand manipulations. Gently, delicately, almost lovingly, the invisible force pins him to the nearest crystalline wall, splaying out his arms in cruciform posture.

"The next step of your treatment may be mildly startling, but please refrain from invoking your defensive magics. It is entertainingly challenging to perform surgery on a patient who is intent on dodging every single part of the operation, but I do not believe that would be beneficial to your goals. Here." Echo feels the slightest tinge of pain along his wrists, and watches the flesh slice itself open, unstoppering a slow trickle of blood. Mylitta raises up her good hand–and with a gesture, she calls the blood from Echo's body. All of it.

It streams out in a scarlet ribbon, like the entrails being wound out of a gutted deer. The snakeling of blood floats through the room, drifting lazily into the air above the Defiler's palm. The stream swells, bulging out until a perfect orbicular globule floats above Mylitta's waiting palm. As the blood swirls and coils, a mote of blackness appears at its center, coalescing out of the countless impurities drawn from Echo's blood. The Ebon Dragon's venom. It writhes within its sanguinary prison, putting forward tiny feelers and miniscule maws to rip and tear the cage apart. Mylitta smiles.

And with a rush, the blood surges back into Echo's body, streaming into his other slit wrist to complete the circuit. The blood that flows back seems redder, more vibrant now that the stain of the Shadow has been scourged from it. As the last of his vital fluids flow out of his veins and back in, Echo sees his gaping cuts heal themselves shutting, leaving not so much as a scar. The force upon him is released, and he drops gracefully to the ground.

"And yes, I do very much enjoy life in Malfeas." answers Mylitta, playing with the ball of poison that floats above her hands. "Climatically anodyne, societally pleasant, if mildly deranged, and perquisitely unparalleled in comparison to the sanctums I might expect to keep in Creation or in Yu-Shan or in the Underworld or in the Wyld or in Autochthonia. Also, on occasion, extraordinarily handsome men who shine with the light of the sun come into my laboratory and ask me to cure them of a poison made of pure hatred. It is very nice."

[Lochar]

Echo decides to give a show of faith to Mylitta, and though his caste mark glitters faintly at her words.

Almost too quickly, he regrets not sealing her words as his wrists are slit and his body drained of all blood, his face paling and his vision graying for a moment before Mylitta returns his blood to him, his vision coloring once more.

Dropping, Echo takes a deep gasping breath. "...Very...interesting ability." Echo says, catching his breath finally. Looking at the poison of the Ebon Dragon, Echo almost lifts a finger to poke it, but decides better.

"And while I am glad to make your acquaintance, I'd rather bring you other unique artifacts that don't have to be held in my blood before gifting them to you." Echo doesn't bother clothing himself just yet, willing to stay for a moment. "And may I ask what Autocthonia is? I recognize the root Autocthon, but I don't know of any cities or such that revere the Great Maker to a degree to name their city as such."

Echo pauses. "And the way you say it brings to mind another aspect of reality, listing it with the Wyld and the Underworld."

[The Demented One]

"Autochthonia, the world-form jouten of Autochthon." explains Mylitta. After a moment, she realizes just how little her explanation explained. "Which is to say, the manifestation of Autochthon that takes the form of a cosmic plane, in much the same way that the Demon City is the world-form jouten of Malfeas. Inhabited, an indigenous machine-god populace and a mortal civilization transplanted from Creation, but unreachable. Some manner of reality seal, absolutely invincible from all intrusion." She lectures on cosmology with a bored look, decanting her globule of poison into a narrow crystalline flask as she does.

"Tangentially, this discussion of planar travel and primordial realms of existence brings to mind an interesting question, one most germane to the moment. I have been able to deduce the exact method by which you came to Malfeas; insufficient information to arrive at any discernible conclusion. Despite the conversational tone of my voice as I discuss this matter, it is in fact one of significance perhaps disproportionate to the current levity of our intercourse, as any rift or portal between Creation and Malfeas is of immediate interest to certain patrons of my cause. Let's find out!"

A scalpel-edge of phantom pain slices through Echo, cutting back the layers of his consciousness. Flashes of memory overwhelm his inward eye, images of the Imperial City and the Silver Desert, and Echo cannot help but feel he is not alone in watching these visions. "Oh. That is disappointing in almost every way that a thing is capable of being disappointing. The Most Efficacious Doctor of Brazen Impossibilities. I do not enjoy that man." sighs the Defiler as she concludes her interrogation.

"And I wonder who that sorceress was, Echo. You seemed to think much of her beauty. Do tell me."

[Lochar]

Echo winces as the memories flash by in an instant, before giving a reproaching look to Mylitta. "Really, all you had to do was ask. You could have saved yourself the essence and aggravation of finding out it was the Doctor."

"As for who the sorceress was, that would be Ivory Eyes, the most recent obsession of Ligier. I hold her in great regard as a little sister, for she is the reincarnation of Aesha, if you remember her." Echo adds for Mylitta's benefit.

"But enough of her. Let us sit and talk. I have yet to hear anyone claim anything is invincible from intrusion, not from the Solars. We just haven't put enough effort into it yet." Echo moves forward and taps Mylitta on the nose, smiling. "And regardless of what you might say, your Exaltation was at one point a Solar. But that's going a little astray of our conversation."

Echo sits down on a bench, motioning to Mylitta to sit as well. The crystal is somewhat cold to the still naked Solar, but he pays it no mind. "I assume you've come at it from both the mundane and magical aspects of piercing the veil?"

[The Demented One]

"On the issue of Autochthonia, I think I can safely conclude that the Seal is absolutely beyond the scope of what can be achieved by any means. If the Oramus contact experiment failed, then I cannot imagine any other magic could successfully breach it from the outside. On the issue of deriving my answers directly from your memory, I find it to be a far more efficient mode of inquiry. Linguistic constructs fail to convey so much information, after all, and thus I prefer simply accessing your memories directly. An on the last issue, I would wish to know more of this Ivory Eyes, and the rest of your circle. Let me see."

[Lochar]

The scalpel edge touches Echo's mind once more, and this time the Solar rises against it, Essence creeping through his mind and forming a barrier against the intrusion. "And I prefer to actually speak to people, not have you ask questions and then draw everything out of my mind about it. I prefer to give recollections, not have them taken rudely from me."

Echo reaches up to Mylitta, who has so far refused to sit with him, and wraps a hand gently around her wrist and pulls her down to sit with him. He then swings her legs over his and looks at her. "Now, if you'd like to ask me questions and get the answers, we can continue to talk. Otherwise, the extraordinarily handsome man who shines with the light of the sun will have to leave, because he's no where near as entertained as you are."


6 personal motes to Solar Countermand

[The Demented One]

Mylitta squeaks as Echo grabs her, too startled to resist his forceful thrust. "I don't think you can actually make a valid judgment on the matter, Nabonidus. As you lack any means to directly read memories, you surely lack any empirical evidence upon which to establish your opinions. I could teach you, but I am beginning to suspect that your comments were meant more as rhetorical device than scientific assessment." She frowns, looking distinctly upset at the lack of science in your discourse. The imminent physical presence of Rising Echo, on the other hand, does not appear to distress her in the least, albeit she seems the slightest bit nonplussed. "Consequentially, I must ask you with words, and lips and tongue. How messy. Nabonidus, tell me of your circlemates. Who they are, where they came from, how you met. I am...curious. I have no circle of my own, you see."

[Lochar]

Echo laughs. "Part of life is rhetoric, Mylitta. But I'll trade you. I'll answer your questions, and you give me answers about Autocthon and his world. If you know enough about it that his body has become a world, you've at least seen through the seal, if you haven't pierced it."

Rising Echo quiets for a moment, thinking, as he looks up at the crystal. His fingers absently draw lines on Mylitta's legs while doing so. "You want to know about my circle though? Had you tried to crack my skull again, you wouldn't have gotten much. We met in Lotus, Aesha's city, which had fallen to disrepair. The Silver Dragon fell there, and found his mate once more, both reborn. The Shining Bodhisattva was drawn there as well."

Echo chuckles. "Now that I look at it, I feel as if Fate manipulated us a bit to draw our whole old circle back together. Even Nameless Night was there, although he goes by Watcher these days."

Looking back towards Mylitta from his musings, he continues. "I would have thought you all would have be drawn to work together. But I could extend you a promise to join our circle. You'd like them, I think. You just couldn't try to hurt them then." He laughs, drawing his fingers around her legs once more, playing with her skin.

[The Demented One]

"What can be said of Autochthonia is largely irrelevant. All that we know of his worldform has been reconstructed from our past-life memories, not any direct observation. We know the world is almost entirely mechanical, designed around a variant elemental paradigm. It is presumably inhabited, as Autochthon abducted a portion of Creation's human populace between thousands and millions before departing for exile in Elsewhere. And, according to the recollection of the Yozis, it is also a blighted, sickly world contaminated by the presence of the disease that afflicts Autochthon." She seems bored by the topic, discussing the details of Autochthonia as if it were an academic lecture. She slips off the desk, gently pushing Echo's legs aside with a telekinetic thrust, and withdraws a box of silver wood from a rack of similar cases.

"Most of the notes I have our fairly complicated if one is not studied in higher-level motonic physics and titanic cosmology, but you may find them utile in some degree." she comments, handing you the box. Opening it, you find a heap of parchment scrolls, crystalline tablets, and scribbled-on scraps of paper, every available inch of space filled in with a meticulously neat hand. "And on the matter of your circle, I must admit that my interest is solely impersonal. It is interesting information, but I suspect that any participation on my part would be stymied by our mutually irreconcilable goals. It is the social dynamics of the circle that interest me more, the formation of cooperative and emotional bonds between fellow Exalted. Unless, of course, you and your own circlemates would be amenable to the Reclamation of Creation, which is a doubtful prospect and which I suggest only as a humorous interjection."

[Lochar]

Echo chuckles as he sifts through the box, before setting it aside. "No, I do not think our goals are very compatible at all." Moving over to Mylitta once more, Echo puts a hand under her chin, lifting her face up to his and invading her personal space a bit. "Now, I believe I owe you both for the cure, and the information."

As a side effect of his time at the Black Lotus, Echo's definately been feeling a little left out, having not partaken of any demon lovers.

A human, no matter if Yozi tainted or not, was quite a different matter. Especially if she held a Solar Exaltation. And for all that some of her was odd, she still held an interesting look, an interesting attraction.

Echo gave her a smile. "Will you take some of my time as payment?"

[The Demented One]

"Indeed, yes. If you desire to repay my services, kindly descend from my desk and hand me the aural speculum. I have been examining the essence flows of a particularly intricate form of charm technology, and might make use of some assistance." She gestures to a convex disc of adamant, its diamond facets lanced through with veins of emerald impurity. "Feed it a mote, and hold it over this template. I'll need you to record all details of this experiment, understand?" She sets a protoplasmic mass of primordial essence on a desk, and begins prodding it with a variety of interesting tools, sparking with arcs of prismatic essence. If she understands what Echo's innuendos actually meant, she lets no sign of it show, save perhaps for a mischievous grin.

[Lochar]

Echo laughs at himself as he does as ordered, his amulet flaring for a moment to reclothe himself.

Moving over to the appropriate apparatus, Echo begins to help the Infernal Exalted in her work, trying but mostly failing to understand the forces behind her work.

[The Demented One]

Mylitta works with peerless speed, her mind-hand tools seeming to fly through the air like the sticks of some manic drummer. It is a magic not unfamiliar to Echo; he's seen Ivory Eyes do the same thing in her workshops. The Malfean day is still something of an enigma to the Eclipse's sense of time, but he's sure the experiment takes no more than a few hours. Mylitta seems entirely pleased, telekinetically plucking the speculum from Echo's hands once they are finished. "Nabonidus, your assistance was much appreciated and also helpful, and I must thank you. If you ever wish to return to my laboratory with another interesting medical condition and a few hours to spare, I would gladly welcome your presence." The Defiler seems very happy.

[Lochar]

Echo nods and smiles at Mylitta. "While I won't profess to know what your experiment was, I'll assume it won't come back to bite me immediately."

"And I hope you take repeated interesting medical conditions, as I'm not one to take no for an answer." Echo laughs, before kissing Mylitta on the cheek and leaving, heading back to Amalion's manse home to think and prepare.

[The Demented One]

"Oh, no, it is unlikely that this charm would ever be capable of biting you, even if I spoke rhetorically. I am attempting to isolate one of She Who Lives In Her Name's shintai, and unless you are particularly unfond of heuristic calculation, I doubt that it will be unpleasing to you." Mylitta grins as she leads you to the manse's exit, unfolding a crystalline wall to let you out. The silvery fungus that encrusted the sanctum is gone, only but another of the Ebon Dragon's ethereal tricks.

The passage back through Szorney is arduous, a haphazard labyrinthine journey through the quicksilver boughs of the quiescent Yozi. But the flickering reflections of the Silver Woods offer him no more obstacles today–only the many miles that separate him from Amalion's nearest manse-self. It is only as he sets foot at her stately cathedral that he realizes just how effective Mylitta's treatment was. His breath is easy, his legs untired, his brow barely wetted with sweat. "Oh, Rising Echo! You've come back!" shouts Bright Orchard as he enters, throwing her nubile purple arms around him. "Do me a favor, and don't argue with the Ebon Dragon until you've at least had a nap. Okay?"

[Lochar]

Echo chuckles at the neomah, holding onto her as well. She'd grown on him in the past few months, although he'd always resisted her advances. Which, in reflection, was probably why she seemed so stuck on him as well. Not many stayed in her company and resisted the demon's charms.

"I think it will be a few days. I asked for a few days to collect myself before I gave the Yozi any real answers. If I can stretch that out a bit, I should be able to get what I need."

Echo stretches himself out a bit from Bright Orchard. "I don't want to go into that argument half cocked again."

[The Demented One]

The rest of the day–or perhaps days, as the strange hours of Malfeas are still a perplexion to the Eclipse–passes in peace. Despite Echo's newfound vigor, Amalion insists he relax, shaping the geomancy of her manse-body into a convalescent haven, with calming lights, gently sloping white walls, and couches too comfortable to be denied. While the Manse of Echoes Ascending lectures Echo on his foolishness, explaining just what he should have expected from the Ebon Dragon, Bright Orchard is content to sit beside him, occasionally checking his temperature or forcing a cup of broth on him. Amalion regards her kindly, as a dear grand-daughter, but her presence does not spare Echo from his tongue-lashing.

"You do know it was only the surrender treaties that kept you from being torn apart, I hope. I still can't believe it." she moans, heaping yet more guilt upon him. "And you're still planning on stealing the Lillun? I don't know which part of your plan is more impossible, convincing the Ultimate Darkness to hand over his prize toy, or actually managing to bring it back to Creation. You have become a dear friend, Echo, but you remain the most stubborn, foolish, arrogant lout of a man I've ever met." she says, enumerating your many flaws. "So what I'm trying to say is, maybe you should think before you challenge the Ebon Dragon. I think you might ought to train for this."

[Lochar]

"I'd come to that conclusion as well, Amalion." Echo admits. "I could most likely win my next argument without doing so, but I'd rather be certain of it instead of it only being possible."

Pausing for a moment to think, Echo looks at Amalion. "I think I need a new set of people to practice on, however. Maertes and his ilk don't need to know I'm working on a pair of Charms, and it needs to not be any other of the Ebon Dragon's ilk either. Do you have any needs that I could go speak for you on?"

[The Demented One]

"Well, if you wish to be subtle about it, there are a few souls you could use to test your magic. The fetich of the Abhorrent Prophet Unimagined couldn't spread word, trapped as she is, and no one would believe any of Szoreny's souls. Maybe one of Qaf's, since they can never come down from the mountain. Of course, knowing you, you'll probably want to march into Octavian's courts and command him to pay tribute to you." she says, shaking her head with grandmotherly concern.

[Lochar]

Echo pauses a moment. "I've never had a demon army before..." he muses, before chuckling at the face Amalion would be giving him at even the thought.

"But I really don't want one, and getting it to Creation would be harder than it would be worth. I think I'll start with Qaf's mountains, and then if I don't find a fair challenge, I'll speak with Octavian." Echo smiles with another chuckle.

"At least I'm not going to go argue with Ligier yet, right?"

[The Demented One]

"Oh, Malfeas forbid." sighs Amalion, shaking her head with good humor. "If you're set on Qaf, you'll need a way to find him. Harder than you'd think, finding a mountain that goes to forever." She chuckles, producing a small box of redwood from within her robes. Flipping it open, she reveals a compass dial, with a needle of filigreed gold. "Set this to one hundred and eight degrees, and start walking. If you're lucky, you'll have reached his foothills before the Dragon next passes. Bright Orchard, be a dear, and fetch him those snacks we set out?" As Amalion hands you the compass, Bright Orchard scrabbles to retrieve a hamper filled with exotic foodstuffs, the Cecelyne-bread and behemoth-meats that are everyday fare in Malfeas. "All right, Echo. Don't you make me worry over you this much ever again."

[Lochar]

Echo nods, taking the hamper. "I'll try not to, Amalion, but you know that trouble seems to follow the Exalted, regardless."

Taking the compass in hand, Echo sets it the way he has been told as he steps outside of Amalion's manse.

Looking up to the sky as he begins following the course set for him, he whistles under his breath.


Ain't I supposed to be carrying a basket to grandma's house, not away from it? :P

[The Demented One]

Rising Echo sets out from the Manse of Echoes Ascending, following the unwavering course set out by Amalion. As he paces the roads of molten obsidian and auric brick, he soon discovers that the path is not as fixed and steady as he would like. The tarnished brass dial of the demon-compass is set to a firm one hundred and eight degrees, aligned with the baleful star Ixion, and yet the line it traces out seems anything but straight. He cuts through zig-zagging alleyways lined with infernal parlors and agony shops, leaps between the countless smoke-glass platforms of the aerial exchequer, and navigates the spiraling labyrinths of organ-meat that make up the channels of underground Kimbery.

It is down in those caustic sluices that he finally finds his passage to Qaf, a slimy iron hatch welded rudely into the arched ceiling of the sewer-manse. It aligns directly with the degree of Echo's passage, and the glyph of Old Realm acid-etched on its surface spells out the word Qaf, the deep grooves of the sigil caked with grime and jellied vitriol. Pushing open the hatch, Echo finds that it opens–in defiance of all geometry–parallel to the mountain. From where Echo stands below in the sewers, the infinite mount seems to hang horizontally above him, an ominous black shape that dominates the sky. Poking his head out, he twists until the mountain comes into vertical alignment, starkly ignoring his local gravity. It ascends upward to the sky and down to the earth below without cease–neither its summit nor its base can be see. Only the craggy face, rippling with acid-carved ravines and jagged spikes of stones, can be seen clearly, and Echo cannot tell if it is yards or miles from where he stands.

[Lochar]

Having not given the oddities of the Malfean city a second glance, the brazen impossibility of Qaf does give Echo a moment's pause as he takes in the scene. His mind quickens for a moment as it tries to figure out how such a thing could exist, before Echo shunts that small portion of rationality away.

A former Primordial, the Yozi Qaf could do as he chose with his body. It would be like expecting Kimbery to explain how she managed to not erode away one of her siblings as to have a truly forever reaching mountain.

Wrapping himself in his cloak, golden essence built up around the threads and peeled away, as the form of the Eclipse caste began to shimmer and fade as the cloak pulled itself apart.

Dozens of yards, or perhaps hundreds of miles, away the threads rewove themselves much like a life being added into the Loom as Echo was formed again on the face of the mountain.

[The Demented One]

Echo reforms on a stoney crust, a paleolithic ridge of obsidian that was once a wave of molten flowstone lava. Looking back, he cannot even see the outgrowth of Kimbery's sewers where he came from, its architecture receded back past the strange geometries of Malfeas. Only the dead green sky of the Demon City, flecked with violet stars, can be seen, hanging like a miasma around the infinite expanse of Qaf. The mount is barren and broken, a mozaic of stone fragments and rubble. This is not the desolation of Cecelyne, or the caustic sterility of Kimbery's vitriolic depths. This is stark emptiness. Qaf stands alone. Paths have been carved into his side–some by the tread of demons, footprints still new in the earth, others by ancient glacial force of an era long since past–stretching both upward and to the distant ground. Looking up, Echo thinks he can make out the shape of a cave-mouth, a dark recess carved into a fold in the Yozi's cliffs; yet downwards, a low pool of water has formed, trickling through river-run grooves and into the side of the mountain itself, perhaps leading to some deep sunless sea. The paths before him are countless.

[Lochar]

Today was apparently the day for oddities, and who was Echo but to go with the flow...this time.

Looking at the compass that Amalion had given him once more, Echo righted himself with the green sun of Ligier, before following it in the opposite direction that he had been told. A bearing of 258 degrees, halfway 'round the compass, since he'd gone halfway 'round the bend getting here.

[The Demented One]

Rising Echo sets off on a whim, then, tracing a course inverse of that which brought him here. It is as good a path as any, for each degree of any circle would lead to the same place–Qaf. It is impossible to conceive of him, a mountain that knows neither summit nor base, zenith nor nader, and even more impossible to think that this whole mount is in itself alive, a fallen Primordial in chains. Every pebble, every boulder, ever crag is alive with the Yozi's living essence, every slope and rise a mere scratch upon his titanic flesh. Echo's haphazard path leads him ever upward across the titan's face, a diagonal course that winds around the tumescent expanse of the mountain. Were Qaf any other mountain, such a path would soon lead to his summit. But Qaf is no other mountain. The course leads Echo ever higher and higher, cutting behind cliff-walls through gaps barely wide enough for him to pass, dipping under acidic waterfalls and the caustic moraine of glacial cysts of ice.

But as Echo ventures further, he passes through these acid-carved tunnels up to a blanker, stark expanse of stone. Gone are the crags and ravines, the mountain-carving rivers and scars of ice. Only stone, and the road, and a Prince of the Earth. It is hours, perhaps days, and Echo begins to curse whatever plan brought him here. Whatever souls of Qaf reside on his slopes have secreted themselves away, hidden from the paths of pilgrimage and the burning face of Ligier. How is he to find any occluded demon to try his mind-bending arts on, if the same demons are all cast out of his own sight! The stone, and the road, offer no answer. There is only the wide expanse of mottled grey, bleached a sick green where the sun burns brightest, or slick with black ooze where shadows fall. Only the stone, and the sounds of Echo's footfall.

No. Something else, some other murmur haunts the airs. For every step Echo takes, there seems an answer, as if he were the hand of some great ethereal bard, brought down upon the skein of a drum. It is a faint and far-off echo, the sound of some distant shout or reverberation beneath this desolate mount, or else cast from the edge of the horizon. As he crosses further across the slopes, the sound seems to come faster, louder, nearer, outpacing his own footsteps, ascending from the depths of the mountain or coming down from the sky, beating upon the underbelly of the earth, drumming on its bones, shaking the earth beneath Echo's own feet, cracking stone and throwing it wide to the mad green light of an alien demon sun. There is a hiss, a deep palpitating cry, and a blackness stains the very stone before Echo's eyes. Rock glistens, and perspires, and melts. And with one hideous, awful cry, the mountain's face is torn apart.

The abomination that slithers forth, lunging out from the molten bowels of Qaf as if from some hideous and calcified womb, is monstrous beyond imagining. Rubbery, colorless flesh hangs around it, bare muscle exposed to the air in quivering, trembling spasms, bereft of any skin but slick with the dross of the mountain, the flowstone still furnace-hot from its passage. Its maw is a hideous gaping crack, fringed with a nightmarish panoply of tentacles, each one a murderous assemblage of suckers, barbs, and toothy spines. Rearing upward to tower over Echo, it lets out one long, bellowsome blast, a cry like has not been heard ever upon the earth of Creation, the roar of some great hidden sea beast of the leviathan depths. Eyes dangle moistly like jewels on a necklace, each one reflecting Echo's countenance in its black faceted depths. There is nothing human in those eyes to read, but nevertheless Echo can see some hint of emotion in them. Not hunger, not fear, not wrath. Happiness. Childish, whimsical happiness.


Battle Joined

Tick 0: Rising Echo
Tick 2: Shudde M'ell


Tick 0: Rising Echo

[Lochar]

Echo started for but a moment, having expected to eventually recieve a reception such as this.

However, it would not fall into combat immediately, he could hope. The happiness it radiated might actually not be for combat, but something else, and a diplomat was first and foremost a speaker.

That still did not stop Echo from unlimbering his weapons, letting his hands touch where they sat on his clothing.

"Greetings, Child of Qaf." Echo calls out in Old Realm, making sure to enunciate his words as best as he could. "Do you desire someone to speak with, spar with, or are you just in the mood for complete battle? I would prefer not to have to fight today, so why don't we talk for a moment?"

Echo's friendly tone shifts deeper for a moment, as he stares down the behemoth of Qaf. "After all, we don't want to have any accidents, do we?"

Golden Essence flares up to the size of the behemoth, judging it as Echo speaks.


Echo is going to attempt to talk his pretty little head into just speaking. Although, if this actually succeeds, I'm going to laugh my ass off.

Burning a Willpower to activate my Combo, then 1 motes for Mastery of Small Manners to bring my total Appearance up to 7 at the moment and know basic motivations, 2 motes for Enemy Castigating, and then 9 motes for First Presence Excellency.

Cha 4 + Presence 5 + First Excellency 9 + 2 Pectoral:
[roll0]

Also, if he attacks, my essence armor automatically draws three motes to activate for the scene without being a Charm usage.

Health:
-0 [ ]
-1 [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ]
-2 [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ]
-4 [ ]
Incapacitated

Essence
Permanent: 5
Personal: 22/22
Peripheral: 10/51 (Solar Glory: 10/10)
Committed: 5 (Essence Armor), 5 (Amulet), 6 (Hook daiklaves), 2 (Pectoral), 5 (Cloak), 7 (Hellscry Chakra)

[The Demented One]

Echo's words seem to puzzle the beast, its eyes wibbling in confusion. It bends to hang over you, regarding you from all its dangling organs, the sacks of meat that serve as eye, ear, nostril, tongue. And with its maw stretched wide, it hisses in mockery of speech, forming the syllables of Old Realm with hideous clacking mandibles hidden away in its throat, a sound like a churning mass of barnacles scraped against a stone by a ship's deep passage. It speaks but one word.


"NO."

And then its maw is descending on Echo, tentacles flailing madly around him. They coil to catch him around the limbs, spines and suckers snagging and tearing away flesh in their squamous grasp. "Tentacles..." Echo thought, watching bemusedly as the creature ignored his words and dove towards him. Well, far be it from him to provide entertainment, but dinner was out of the question. His anima, already flaring, formed the body of the great owl, hunter of serpents. It dove forward, as Echo darted away from the grasp of the creature, his own anima snapping
at it.

Snappers and suckers twisted and turned only to catch itself and never even a glimpse of the body of the Solar Exalted, as Echo's body seemed to be a seven different places at once, and even those places were in multiple places. At the end, Echo stood outside the gaping bite of the creature, watching impassively. "That's the way it will be then, is it?"


"INDEED."


Battle Joined

Tick 3: Echo
Tick 8: Shudde M'ell

Echo

1-die stunt, 2m

Tick 3: Echo

[Lochar]

Echo took one sword in hand and tossed the other into the air, in which it floated on it's own, mimicking the motions of the still held blade.

"If you're certain then. I promise you, I'm not an easy meal."

A flash of memory, fighting an even greater beast. The war-Primordial was immensely more powerful than this simple behemoth, and Echo would be able to take this by himself.

It would not require an entire circle against this beast. This wasn't the moment of Exaltation, where he was new to his power. This was Rising Echo, the child of the Sun. Blessed by Ignis Divine to carry his words and carve out Creation from those things that weren't.

And if words didn't work, then a blade would.

Essence slid into place as it had thousands of years prior, training that had been done before out of idle time to learn a few new Charms. He'd always been good at pulling something from nothing when it came to combining Charms, though it usually was when he was speaking and not when he was fighting.

Young Chejop would laugh now. The Elder Nabonidus detested single combat, and now his legacy prepared himself using steps created long ago.

Blades forced forward, arcing in and out as they drove at the hide of the behemoth. Shining with the brightness of the true yellow sun, temporarily pushing back even Ligier's foul light for a moment as blades sunk into flesh and exploded with the divine righteousness that was the Unconquered Sun.

The Incarnae that was not the feitch of the Shadow.


Echo creates a new Combo here.

Blades of Glory and Righteousness.
Enemy-Castigating, Second MA Excellency and Shadow over Water, currently. 5 XP spent.

I spent 2 XP a while back to have Shadow over Water and Seven Shadow linked with regards to Charms and Combos, as noted in Glories.

Echo is testing the waters currently. 8 motes to Second MA, 2 to Enemy Castigating.

Rising Sun: [roll0] + 4 automatic successes.
Echoed Light: [roll1] + 4 automatic successes.

Attacks are Holy and inflict aggravated damage to creatures of darkness.

The blades work in tandem, creating an automatic coordinated attack as if two people were coordinating with minimal successes. So -2 to his DV during this attack.

Health:
-0 [ ]
-1 [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ]
-2 [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ]
-4 [ ]
Incapacitated

Willpower: 5/7

Essence
Permanent: 5
Personal: 22/22
Peripheral: 7/51 (Solar Glory: 0/10)
Committed: 5 (Essence Armor), 5 (Amulet), 6 (Hook daiklaves), 2 (Pectoral), 5 (Cloak), 7 (Hellscry Chakra)

[The Demented One]

Rising Echo's blades move as one, the glinting mirror of Echoed Light reflecting his every stroke with Rising Sun. The monster's bulk is no boon here, but a weakness, its fat belly hanging exposed to the Eclipse Caste's strikes. He catches it with the tip of his blade, just barely managing to impale the beast's flesh–and pulls away at nothing. The thick ropey cords of the behemoth's muscle rebuff his attack, too tough for his weak attack to tear through. Echoed Light comes down from above as the monster contends with Echo, driving into its back–but it too finds its attack wasted. The slathering, clacking noise that the behemoth makes seem like laughter, some sinister organic menace. As its tentacles stretch and squeeze apart, revealing the crustacean mandible-claws within its maw, Echo cannot help but feel that it is smiling.


Battle Joined

Tick 8: Rising Echo, Shudde M'ell

Rising Echo

2-die stunt, 4m or 1wp

Tick 8: Rising Echo, Shudde M'ell

[Lochar]

Echo pauses for a moment, blade held aloft as he studies the beast. "A mighty tough hide you have there. I bet that the demons would love to craft an armor from it, to turn blades. Do you think I can manage to sink these into you?" Echo holds his blade up, his anima glinting off of it.

Behind the snake behemoth his other blade salutes in tandem.


Taking an Aim action, will Seven Shadows any particular attack that comes. Does that force me to abandon my aim?

[The Demented One]

Strange anatomical impossibilities wriggle and gesticulate within the beast's maw, drooling an eerie murmuring percussion. The cthonic behemoth's cry is forewarning of its pounce–it coils back like a whip and lashes out, tentacles raking down upon Echo. He effortlessly dodges between them, stepping back from the grinding wheel of stone-flecked teeth that would devour him. The monster rears back, shrieking a litany of curses in Old Realm at its failure. Clearly, it has been long since it has hunted prey as the God-King.

[Lochar]

Golden essence flaring all around the god-king, Echo looked at the behemoth, having dodged away from each attempted attack and bite. "You know." he begins rather calmly, standing on a large outcropping of rock that had been pushed up by the creature's entrance, "You're lucky I've not let you land a hit on me yet. I'm fairly certain you're bound by the same treaty as your master is, and your attacking me first quite likely broke them."

Essence begins to wrap around the Eclipse caste, the wings of the owl surrounding him, infusing his very being with it's Essence.

"And because I'm such a nice person, I'll leave you be before you get yourself into even more trouble."

How nice the view was from the outcropping. Qaf's mountain body didn't have any oddities that caused vision issues, giving Echo the ability to see for miles.

And as the Exalt vanished, that's exactly where he went. Many miles away, to find a geomantic weakpoint that brought Qaf's unending mountainside near Malfeas.

[The Demented One]

The slavering brute tilts its head in confusion as Echo disappears, sniffing at the fetid air to catch some trace of his essence-scent. It gurgles sadly as it fails, slinking back down into the tunnel-ridden flanks of Qaf. Echo reappears upon the jutting edge of a weather-worn cliff, a few thousand miles below. The infinite mount does not border on Malfeas, not truly, but the obsidian bridges of Jacinth sometimes cut beside it where the peripheral edge of a layer cuts perpendicular to the violated geometries of Qaf. Echo easily makes the leap to the shining black pathway, walking back across its looped curve until he can see the malign cityscape of the Demon Emperor.

[Lochar]

Sighing as he looks up towards Jacinth's pathways, Echo bends essence and space around him one more time, before appearing on the pathway, his anima flaring fully.

Sparing a few motes to a Charm from his almost exhausted essence, Rising Echo assumes a stance of authority and resolutely walks off to the manse of Amalion.

If he was going to recover the Solar shards, it was high time he did it the way he was supposed to, the same way the Yozi had originally been handled. Overwhelming action by a circle.

[The Demented One]

Echo strides through Malfeas undisturbed and unquestioned, lesser demons scrabbling out of his path lest they incur his wrath. Crossing through miniature nation-labyrinths and the paved-over fumarole districts that vent the essence of the Demon City, he makes a slow sojourn back to Amalion. Her familiar manse-body seems further than usual, some incidental effect of returning from Qaf's spatial spindle. But in time, he finds himself in sight of the familiar edifice, this one a fragrant garden-dome lined with walls of graven brass. "Back so soon, Echo?"

[Lochar]

Echo stops, and takes a moment to look up Amalion. "Yes. I've come to the conclusion that it is time to me to return to Creation and collect myself that way, before I can rescue the Solars trapped by Lillun, and also those held by the Neverborn."

"I can still use your pathways to Creation? I need to get as close to Aesha's city of Lotus as possible, unless you know where I can get closer to them if they are not in Lotus currently." Echo's question hints at the possibility of a Yozi cult she might have access to, but he won't come out and ask to use any of her resources directly on his behalf.

[The Demented One]

The Manse of Echoes Ascending nods gravely. "I had hoped to keep you here a little longer, but my doorway stands unbarred." The silken veil that masks her smile flutters in the wind that breathes through the manse, the breath of Amalion. "I can feel the geomancy of your city. Delicate, so many little lights, so many jewels. So easy to reach out and touch..." She seems almost entranced as she reworks her manse-body's geomancy, shaping herb-lined recesses of her garden into a sprawling maze of silver hedges. "I cannot say where you will find your circle. But my path will lead you through Cecelyne, back to Lotus." She looks away, idly shaping a few topiaries into being. Bright Orchard is not so restrained, throwing herself at you in a sprawling embrace. "Oh, Echo! Please, please come back! Amalion is letting me be her doyenne, I'll be right here! You must promise to visit us!"

Once your farewells are finally made, you enter the silver copse raised by Amalion, the path back to Creation. Despite the coils of the winding labyrinth, you find that the way is straight–no dead ends to be lost in, no baffling false passageways. After the first day, you find the brassy earth and silver hedges of the maze begin to recede, drifting back as you advance. The ground becomes looser, insubstantial beneath your tread, the labyrinth's walls sparser, sometimes vanishing for long stretches. Eventually, you turn back, and see only Cecelyne. The Endless Desert stretches forever, her impossible geometries binding Malfeas to Creation. This is where your descent into hell began, and this is where it ends. Days after days elapse like seconds or years, the dry desolate heat of Cecelyne withering you beyond strength. Rainbow-winged locusts and honey-drenched scorpions abound amid the dunes of the Yozi, but you think better than to eat them.

Finally, the journey ends. Standing alone amid the shining silver expanse of the Endless Desert is a doorway, an ivory slab engraved with scarlet filaments. You recognize the now-familiar architecture of Amalion, the baroque elegance of her geomancy. As you walk towards it, you find the sands turning to soil beneath your feet, silver hedges once again bursting up to wall you in. Placing your hand upon the bone knob, you find it loose, yielding easily to you. It pulls open with the sound of glass boiling, a molten sloshing that crystallizes and shatters into dissonant harmonies. Gold light spills forth from within the opened portal. Echo steps across the threshold, and into a new world.

"Good morning, Lord Echo." Jubilant Dawn sits at his mahogany desk in the center of Lotus's caldera-manse, a pile of azure-inked forms sprawled before him. His voice betrays not the least shock as he looks up at the Eclipse Caste, suddenly arrived in the heart of Lotus. "I was wondering when you would make it back." Tears bead up at the edge of his eyes, and begin, slowly, to fall.

[Lochar]

"I promise you, I will return Bright Orchard." He hugs the demon back, before pulling away from her embrace.

Looking then to Amalion, he speaks once more. "We'll find Five Moons, I promise."

With those words, Echo quickly left.


Stepping through the door, Echo was surprised to find that it led him straight into the heart of Lotus, but quickly responds to the first man he made into a Mighty. "I do apologize for being gone so long. I took advantage of circumstances to do some information gathering." Echo's voice is exuberant at seeing Jubilant Dawn, and pulls the man to his feet and embraces him.

"Where are the others? I have a lot of news, and I'd rather go over it all once, instead of a dozen times. I'll need the opinions of everyone over this news."

[The Demented One]

Jubilant Dawn eagerly returns Echo's embrace–and he is not alone. Within minutes, every bureaucrat, official, and officer in the palatial manse has rushed to see the returned God-King, a wave of blue-robed functionaries and lamellar-clad captains. The rumbling din of their shouted welcomes, broken through with prayers and exclamations. But Jubilant Dawn raises one hand, golden essence flaring from his palm. "Enough, enough. Lord Echo, your fellow God-Kings have gone to war against Lookshy. I've recently received word from General Transval that they've flown to Metagalapa to negotiate a peace. Your presence will be much welcome, I suspect." he explains.

[Lochar]

"Metagalapa? Too far without sorcery for easy travel." Echo muses to himself, his mind racing.

"We have the Dragon Rails, Lord Echo!" one man calls. "They go to Metagalapa!"

Dragon rails. Not something he'd heard of, but not likely to be fast enough, even then.

He looked over the gathered crowd. "No, I think not. Are any of the Mighty there with the God-Kings?"

"Several are on the Flower of the East, Lord Echo. They're serving on Lady Ivory Eyes' grand airship." Jubilant Dawn answers, beating the answer from the crowd of men and women only by seconds, their voices a resounding echo that gives the Eclipse all the answer he needs.

Granted, he didn't remember them having an airship before he left, but given Ivory's abilities, it didn't surprise him as much as it might have had it been someone else.

"So long as the Mighty are there, I can reach it almost instantaneously."

Echo smiles to everyone, holding out his hands. "Today is a new day, a new dawn. We will persevere, and we will rejoin Creation as it was meant to be. Whole, hale, and moving forward in one direction. For the betterment of all!"

With that short speech, Echo sweeps from the area, descending deep into the caldera manse to the Throne of Ten Thousand Eyes, finally realizing some of it's original purpose, why it had been here. The Silver Dragon had loved his children, and this was his way of keeping track and taking care of them.

But now, it would be used to bring Echo to his companions.

Sitting on the throne, Echo gave it the motes required to activate it as it took the pure Essence of him and went seeking for like energies in all of Creation.

A few dozen were tagged still here in Lotus, in a much bigger spread than he expected. Lotus was expanded quite a bit then.

A single few signatures lit up in other locations, as the Mighty there felt the touch of Rising Echo as his mind passed over them, looking for another.


And then it was there. A dozen of them within a mile of each other. Well off the ground, from what he could tell.

Echo laughed to himself. Ussa was there. Touching upon the man, he took a sense of him. He'd grown in the time he was gone.

Ussa. Care to lend a hand? Echo's thought touched the man. He could feel how startled the Mighty was.

Lord Echo? You live?

Yes. I need a favor of you, however. Can I borrow you temporarily?

Ussa, unseen by Echo, winces. I bear the scars from the first time, Lord Echo. Do you require such a service again? We've been watching, and Flower of the East reports death essence down there, but we don't know what is using it.

You will not go into combat, no. I just need you to get close enough to see them.

I am at your command, my Lord Echo.

[Lochar]

Echo pauses for a moment. There was a much better option, now that he felt it. Nevermind, Ussa. I've found a much better entrance.

Chuckling to himself, he reached out to a new Mighty. Don't let it on that we're talking, my dear. Do me a favor, let me see what you see, for just a moment.

[The Demented One]

"Holy woah!" replies Konoko. By an absolute miracle of willpower, her response is solely mental. "Rising Echo? Mom told me that you got...but you're back? This is great!" Once the Invincible Maiden's daughter has calmed down, she opens her eyes to Rising Echo. He sees a dim-lit room, the faces of his fellow God-Kings, the leaders of Lookshy. And before them all he sees a dark figure, towering above Zephyr and Ivory Eyes, an Ivory Eyes lit with a strange, terrifying aura. He looks at the ghost, living avatar of Oblivion, and cannot help but remember the Ebon Dragon's words. "Hey, Echo. You should probably come help. We're trying to negotiate with these Lookshy people and scary ghost guy, but it's not going so good. I mean, Zephyr broke a table, which was pretty cool. But not so good at the negotiating."