Rise of the Illuminated

[Ellas Aramond]

Rise of the Illuminated

Sky and sand and sun and rock. If it weren't for the sight of mountains in the distance then it'd be easy to think that the desert simply went on forever. It's been a few weeks since you've left Kether Rock, and though you're away from the Sidereals and their dogma, it seems as though something will always be around to remind you of what you're supposedly destined to do.

It wasn't even four days away from the Rock when your specific abilities had been called upon. Reaching the top of one of the larger dunes, you quickly noticed a group of men atop Austrechs speeding towards a caravan of wagons; who are stopped for some reason. Even though the Sun is still high, allowing them many more hours of travel...

[Raz_Fox]

Ruma-Kiath

Of the five Exalted who had set out from Kether Rock, only the Iron Wolf had keener eyes than Ruma-Kiath, and only the Iron Wolf posessed more desert-cunning than she. Naturally, she was the first to spot the caravan ahead.

Bandits? No, the caravan would not have stopped were that the case. A meeting between city-men and nomads? Perhaps. But there was something about the entire situation that she saw that made her nervous.

So she turned to the wisest of her charges, Lien Sun. "Tell me, Lien. What do you make of this?"

[AmberVael]

Lien Sun

Lien shades her eyes with one hand, examining the scene for a few moments. There were plenty of reasons the situation looked wrong, and so it was difficult to draw a conclusion.
"It could be that they stopped so as to avoid subjecting their animals to midday heat, but it's also probable that those men are raiders of some kind, who set up a trap for them to make sure they stopped."
She points out the men on austrechs.

"We should probably go find out."

[Sanguine]

Alistair

Looking at the scene below Alistair's mind begins to go through all of the possible scenarios. Merchant's from Gem trading with the Nomads? Possible but unlikely considering the distance from the city. Bandits or Nomads raiding Merchants? Unlikely, the wagons would flee their pursuers rather then just sit there. They could be unable to see the Austrech-riding men unlikely as that may be in this environment, though that doesn't explain why they are stopped. Delzahn guarding the border of their Empire? No couldn't be, Delzahn ride camels and horses not Austechs and we should still be a ways away from the Delzahn empire.

Alistair is drawn out of his introspection by Lien and Ruma's conversation. "I'll go. You two would just get in the way." With that he heads off without waiting for them to reply using his one and a half decades of experience to blend into the sandy dunes heading for a small dune where he could overhear what they say while remaining out of sight.

Dex+Stealth Roll: [roll0]
Perception+Awareness Roll: [roll1]

Essence:
Personal: 8/12
Peripheral: 24/30

[The Demented One]

Helikles

Raiders! The Prince of Power is unable even to begin describing his contempt for these unmanly brigands, these craven criminals fed from the larder of wickedness. If he is to speak of these lowest of the low, it will be in the eloquent diction of his fists alone! As his sworn allies debate among themselves their course of action, Helikles purses his lips, blowing up his sun-beaten cheeks to give off an impressive whistle. His call is answered by a rush of heaven-cleaving wind, a black shadows that darts down through the cloudless sky to the sands before him. In one mighty bound, Helikles sits astride his faithful steed Apollyon, a dragon like in the myths of old. Giving no thought to subtle maneuvering or to stealth, the hero wings his way over, circling above the raiders.

"Halt, brigands! Halt, you jackals! Cast down those arms, dismount those foul-tempered steeds, and leave this caravan alone!" The Eclipse Caste yells out from on dragonback, the sands of the desert itself trembling at his voice. And the wind, mostly the wind, but Helikles likes to think he had a hand in all this. "If you'll give up your brigandage, then we will let you leave here unharmed. But oh, if you do not? If you are fool enough to raise swords against me, or to molest these merchants more than you already have? Oh, but I yearn to leap down and have a hearty brawl! So defy me, half-manly raiders, if you dare! If you think you can best the Prince of Power, then have at you!"


OOC

Making a Performance attack to intimidate the possibly-raiders into running away. Paying 1 mote to summon Apollyon with Master Horseman's Tricks, and 4 motes to add two successes with the 2nd Performance Excellency.

Performance
[roll0] + 2 successes

[Raz_Fox]

Ruma-Kiath

Ruma smiles ruefully at her mate's rash action; his bold action may yet produce more difficulty than he thinks, and yet she cannot blame him for his actions. If he were to do otherwise, he would not be her mate, the larger-than-life godking who seeks the salvation of the world. It is her job to think for him, to manipulate the world so that he is charging down the correct path, and she will do so.

She concentrates for a moment, remembering the hawk she hunted a year ago, the way it moved, the feel of its feathers, every word to describe it coming to her lips, and her body changes its shape to match the words on her tongue. Her dark skin becomes sandy-brown feathers, the color of a fox's fur; her clothes vanish into Elsewhere, dissipating like sand caught on the wind. Her face becomes a beak, her dark eyes widening and settling on either side of her head.

If Ruma was ever to doubt her Exaltation, to wonder what her duties as a Steward had ever brought her, she would only have to change her form to remember again. It was the ultimate freedom, and she gloried in it.

This done, she leaps upwards, flapping her wings and heading downwards towards the caravan. Lien was right. Ruma would go straight to the caravan and discover what was going on while her beloved mate displayed the power of the Lawgivers.

Oops, nearly forgot. Using 3 Motes of Personal Essence to shapeshift into a large hawk.

[GryffonDurime]

Firemane follows Helikles and the others at a comfortable distance, approaching in long strides with his great mace strapped to his back. "I can't take you lot anywhere," he says, setting his hand on his brow in frustration. "Everywhere you all look, you see bandits and brigands. I'm not objecting to the rustling, just to the predictability of it," he adds, hands folded behind his back.

[Sanguine]

Alistair

As Helikles flies out on his big ostentatious dragon, making a speech that is likely drawn from incorrect information Alistair can barely contain himself. What kind of idiot... Damn I better make sure he has backup in case he just turned this into a fight. With that he slinks away drawing his bow and preparing an arrow as he get's into a position were he can keep the Austrech-riders in clear view; preferably one where he can still hear the 'Merchants'.

New Stealth roll if it is needed complete with flurry penalty for drawing my bow.

[roll0]

Essence:
Personal: 8/12
Peripheral: 24/30