Exalted: We Bring The Endless Night

[Orosboru]

Prologues

These prologue scenes occur before the game. Players are able to interact with each other. It's not exclusive to me - feel free to shout, scream, and flail! It gives me more material to work with...

Also, some basic details from backstory is greatly appreciated. Please wait for others to have their say before posting - some of us type slower.

Also, the Lunar and Infernal get their own intros. Lucky for them! When these are done, everyone will meet up and start the game.

Enough OcC, begin the story!

Prologue l - Deceitful Bird-Bride Negotiation Method

PRINCESS MAGNIFICENT WITH LIPS OF CORAL AND ROBES OF BLACK FEATHERS (second lowest of the deathlords, and not too happy about it) was fuming. Her latest scheme to recover her standing as one of preeminent deathlords had failed, and now she was waiting (this must be intentional, she was sure of it) for her certain judgement. She idly twirled her umbrella, occasionally extracting a spark of mirth from the screaming, tortured faces that were actual faces from actual solars.

The throne she was sitting in was large and comfortable - if such a thing was desirable in the underworld. She didn't care for the concessions that have been given to her. His warstrider sat sadly and unused by his intended user - her. This damn seat was another one of them. Ghosts don't even have bodies to appreciate the aesthetics and form of this first-age seat. She gave it a heavy kick. It made a huge dent.

THE FIRST AND FORSAKEN LION was not happy either. On one hand, his sometimes-vassal was always getting uppity. He wondered if it was actually worth it to keep her around rather then rendering her into soulsteel. Technically, it wouldn't be a violation of the Netherborn's command - she would be serving him, and far more closely. Unfortunately, the Neverborn were never great on technicalities. His pained flesh reminded him of that every day.

On the other hand, he… did not dislike her. That was the greatest extent of emotion that he had permitted himself to feel. He knew that others had their own theories. So far, none of them had been brave enough to ask him for the specifics. He had a little measure of pleasure from the palpable fear for even such a inconsequential thing. If it even existed at all. "LET HER IN." he suddenly rumbled. His abyssal servants quaked at his order. All was well, as it should be.

PRINCESS MAGNIFICENT WITH LIPS OF CORAL AND ROBES OF BLACK FEATHERS walked in a rage, despite her current predicament. Only those familiar with her would recognize her state of fury, but alas they've all succumbed to the fate of being thrown into oblivion. She stormed past the quaking Abyssals, who were worried that the residual hate between these two deathlords would somehow end with their deaths.

"YOU HAVE SET ME BACK A GREAT DEAL, PRINC-" The Lion paused. He saw that she was holding something back. "YOU HAVE SOMETHING TO SAY IN YOUR DEFENSE?"
"…" The Princess stayed silent. She had much to say, but even she dared not cross a edict of the Neverborn now. They both knew the price of defying such a order.
"YOU HAVE COMMITTED MANY CRIMES AGAINST DEATH VIA PROXY, PRINCESS MAGNIFICENT WITH LIPS OF CORAL AND ROBES OF BLACK FEATHERS. AS YOUR LIEGE LORD, I AM OBLIGATED TO SHOW DISCRETION IN THE PUNISHMENT."
"…" The Princess turned from his gaze and looked at the soulsteel floor. Even the ever-tormented souls within the magical material were silenced by the stare of two deathlords.
"LET ME ACCOUNT YOUR DEEDS IN PART. YOU HAVE SABOTAGED MY MOST RECENT EFFORTS TO EXPAND IN CREATION, THROUGH MOST TRAITOROUS MEANS. YOU HAVE REVEALED MORE OF MY HAND TO THE WRETCHED STAR-EXALTED. YOU HAVE EVEN STOLEN ONE OF MY EXALTATIONS."
"..!" The Princess looked directly at his eyes. That would have earned a death sentence from anyone else. "You… you can't prove that!"
"SILENCE!" The Lion thundered. This yell was perfectly attuned to his fortress. It resounded across his domain and beyond in the underworld. It swirled Oblivion like a whirl down a drain and curiously evaded it. It ascended up to creation and echoed throughout the Wyld. It climbed the spires of Yu-Shan. For a moment, Luna's ear twitched at the sound. A small god formed from the hypocrisy of using a loud shout to demand silence, and swiftly dissolved back into the essence that created it. The eight seals shuddered for a moment, and faded.

Even the Princess remained quiet, for she knew that the Lion was serious. He might even treat her normally. Like a peer. Something that she very much so desired. And since Deathlords treat their peers with undying suspicion and backstabbing rather then undying patronizing… She'd prefer to have him whining under her spiked heel, but punishment was, in her mind, better then pity. Better then… this.

"ALL OF THIS WOULD HAVE EARNED YOU THE TENDER MERCIES OF MINE OWN SEVERAL TIMES OVER." The Lion spoke with utter seriousness. "ALL OF THIS, I AM WILLING TO FORGIVE." He drew his grand daiklave, Varan's Ruin. It cackled gleefully.

The Princess stared into the cold, absence-of warmth, soul-stealing, mortal-terrifying gaze of the Lion. She did not flinch. Her fingers were tight around her umbrella, anticipating a fight.

…and surprisingly, he did not strike her down. He sheathed his mighty sword, the mewling sounds indicating that it was disappointed for the lack of the taste of blood.

"COME CLOSER, PRINCESS MAGNIFICENT WITH LIPS OF CORAL AND ROBES OF BLACK FEATHERS." The Lion deigned to use her full title. She shivered in dread as he approached. He strode up to her. Up so close to what she detested - she felt a little of what mortals called fear. He stood a full meter above her - his soulsteel plate screeching as he walked. He gestured for one of his servants, but she could not see which - he picked her up, his hands gently around her throat.

"I WILL FORGIVE YOUR IF YOU GIVE ME YOUR… hand." His attempt at being discreet was even more disturbing then his normal attitude. In fact, it made it even more noticeable and childish. Nearly everyone here has the senses to hear what he just said.

The Princess's skin crawled with disgust. He, marry her? Such a fate was below her dignity. This was yet another humiliation that he had designed to further torment her. She writhed in his touched, tried to escape from her ghostly corpus, but his iron grip further tightened. It was clear that she had no choice in the matter. But wait. Of course!

If she offered something so ridiculous and out of proportion in this… dowry negotiation, he would reject it as a matter of course. Even a Deathlord in disfavour could not be manhandled in this fashion. She would be able to keep face and endure a more regular, mild punishment. The Lion would be disgraced for committing such a public crime of life. It was perfect!

"I… want a entire manse! A entire armoury of daiklaves! A massive assault ship!" His eyes did not flinch or falter. Was he this willing to humiliate her in this fashion? Well, she wouldn't sell her hand so cheaply. "I want a entire cohort to serve me!" She knew that he couldn't afford to waste so much resources on her just to prove a point. "I… want your stored exaltations!" The room went silent. From meek ghost to mighty Abyssal, everyone was edging away from the soon-to-be-dusted Deathlord.

For a moment, the Princess thought that she had him. His gaze faltered for a moment. She thought that she had asked for too much, and he had to back down. Her victory was quickly snatched away by what she saw on his shadowed face, nailed into his bloody helm.

A smile.

"I ACCEPT." The Lion put her down. "SHATTERER OF THE WAY?"
"I have heard your oath, great master." The Moonshadow Exalt moved from behind him. The Princess recoiled in shock. This was no mere punishment. This was… serious. "I will do my duty."

In the underworld, calling on the Netherborn for an oath is faster then stirring them from Creation. In a pact between deathlords, however, the Neverborn might deign to show up or at least have the lucidity to make sure neither of them violates the agreement. But in this instance, He Who Holds in Thrall filled the room. A tiny portion of the Neverborn's will and anger raged through the halls of the First and Forsaken Lion's domain, echoing in a mockery of fidelity. A shadowy form coalesced, and said:

s o m o t e i t b e

...

The great hall was emptied, in comparison to the Neverborn's massive presence. The Lion was sitting on his throne, content. The humbled and despairing Princess knelt on the floor, exhausted. Of course, she couldn't understand why he did it. She probably, not by some fortune or miracle outside of fate could ever understand.

"I DISMISS YOU, SHATTERER OF THE WAY. KNOW THAT YOU SHALL BE AWARDED IN THE DARKNESS OF YOUR DEEDS TODAY." The Lion wrapped his fingers on his throne. "DO NOT TARRY IN THE OBLIVION TO FOLLOW."

"Yes, of course, my lord." Shatterer of the Way was glad to get into his lord's good graces again. For whatever reason it was, he did not wish to know. Thankfully, he was behind his lord when the Neverborn whispered its approval. He didn't wish to grow even more mad then he was already.

And so the two Deathlords were left alone in the great Thousand hall. The Princess shivered, aware of her new bond of servitude that bound her to the one she despised most in the world. She knelt, out of respect of the audacity of his actions and partly out of fear of what was to come. If it was possible. The resources that she managed to sell herself for would prove little comfort.

"Once again, woman, I ask you to come." The Deathlord seemed tired, if it was possible. "Will you not fulfil your oath?"

The Princess, knowing of the horrific punishment that a Neverborn could bring to bear, edged uneasily forward. She had heard of the Walker in the Darkness's 'marriage' with the Green Lady. Who knew of what ugliness hid beneath that shell of armour? She slowly walked forward, each step a titanic effort of will to resist fleeing this damn place.

But it was. And she could not resist.

She stood, waiting for the first blow, the first strike, the first violation. What sick punishment he could do, now that he had her hand. Even the status of Deathlord could not protect her now. Her essence screamed, motes flying away in futile desperation. His hand reached out-

And grabbed hers.

As he slowly raised their shared hand, every moment became a indescribable eternity. The executioner's blade seemed to hover the nape of the neck, so was the anticipation. She could see his silence - a profound emptiness of which even she could not anticipate. He picked her up. Her feet floated several feet above the air. She was trapped.

And then she felt a very human face. It was warm. It was yielding.

He let go.

"I thought-" The Princess started to say.
"YOU THOUGHT WRONG." The lion sat down on his throne. Five wisps of what were undoubtedly Abyssal Exaltations swirled around his mailed fist.
"But-"
"GO. NOW." The exaltations danced around their new master.

The Princess fled, out of confusion or despair, we may never know. Who can know the motivations of such beings? The closest a mortal can get to understanding is a torment induced by unwanted attention and unrequited love is the one of the many ways that lead mortals to oblivion.

…

"That was a little dramatic, don't you think?" A voice spoke in the darkness.
"IT WAS DONE. THE COST WAS SPENT. HER FLAILING IN CREATION WILL ONLY ASSIST MY GOALS."
"Seriously? "Her hand?" You couldn't be more obvious then that? Are you trying to become some sort of bride-obessing maniac? Only you could pull that off, because anyone with a social bone in their body could have wiggled out of that stupid oath."
"IF IT APPEARS SO, THEN MY CAUSE IS FURTHERED. LESS YOU GAINSAY ME MORE, MY LORD AND MASTER HAS APPROVED OF MY PLANS. IN ADDITION, THERE WERE CLAUSES TO THAT OATH THAT YOU MAY NEVER HEAR."
"You don't like her, do you?"
"I CARE LESS OF WHAT YOU THINK, IN THIS INSTANCE. I ALREADY DO NOT TRUST YOU, LADY OF THE GREEN."

A woman stepped out of the shadows. "Strange. You are the only Deathlord in the underworld to resist my charms. Why?"
"I AM NOT FOOL ENOUGH TO TRUST FOREIGN COURTS WITH MATTERS OF ESTATE."
"Huh? I have no idea what you are talking about."
"THAT MAY BE TRUE NOW. IT WILL NOT BE TRUE LATER. IT WILL BE DIFFERENT EVERY TIME."
"You don't say… then why don't you stop me?"
"YOUR MACHINATIONS DO NOT IMPEDE ME."
"You are very proud. Why did you give her everything that she wanted?"
"NO PRICE CAN BE PUT ON A DEATHLORD'S RANSOM. I CAME AHEAD, DESPITE THE PITTANCE OF A DOWRY."
"Dowry?'."
"I TIRE OF TRADING WORDS WITH YOU. GO BACK TO YOUR MASTER, OR MASTERS, IF IT MAY BE SO."
"As you wish, greatest of Oblivion's Generals." The lady withdrew, and disappeared.

And the First and Forsaken Lion was alone. He raised his hand, and briefly touched the spot where she touched his face. It was still warm.
"You were right, master. Your traitor is coming back. Everything will be just… as… planned."

Prologue ll - The Primordial Dream - For the Princess Magnificent Exalts

You can remember it like it was this current moment. For this moment is a aged eon, of shattered hopes and fears in the alien perfect that is he. You saw your lord after drinking from the cup of blessed joy. You saw his imperial majesty, of things that were never meant to die, yet dream. Of all things, this was permanence made mortal. This was a travesty.

At the cusp of death, wherever you are - you hear a voice compelling you to take the last breath. To fight against your untimely death, wanted or unwanted. All of these things, you have in common. This is your last regret before you do not die.

There is a featureless, infinite plane, with infinite nothingness surrounding. It is not white, or black. It is. Your recently mortal minds can barely take the strain of this void. But this realm's perfection ends there.

There is a fetid man, sitting quietly by himself. He is surrounded by a garden, of which the colors are muted and the scents pale. The water near the brook which he sits on a rock burbles quietly to itself. A fire crackles next to him, and a faint breeze oozes by. A small tree shades him from the oppressive nothing that surrounds him. It is small, and insignificant. But it is the only thing.

You are amongst strangers, but you realize that you have all drank from the same cup of the Black Exaltation. You do not know where you are, or if this is real, but the fabric of this creation seems to pull you towards the corpse-man...

Prologue lll
Ebon Dragon Stays True

There is a great working in place, something that defies the imagination. Once again, the fates of both life and death turn and suggest a calamity. Unlucky portents and evil stars come to the fore, and good omens and lucky stars retreat. There is treachery in the air, and the Ebon Dragon is not happy. For this treachery is not his.

Was it not he that suggested to the Solars of the First Age to imprison them in their king's flesh? Treacherous nature that was he, he knew that the primordials could not win another war, and creation would follow. Plans for the sake of plans. Living for the sake of living. Even he could admire the perfection of their creation, even as he conspired to both destroy and save it.

But for now, he bides his time, for there is a plan in place. Fortunately for Creation, this story is not that tale. It is a much smaller, insignificant one.

The Unyielding Flames Tempered by Shadows is called to a blasted heath, of shattered skulls and fevered breath. This is the first time in memory that a Yozi consented to meet another in person. Cecylene and the Ebon Dragon meet on this unauspicious night.

Your master has ordered you to watch. Doubtlessly, the others will as well. Hopefully, your status will protect you from their wrath. You stand at the base of the plain, with a massive drop heralding a scything wind. It is a long way up... and the sky thunders with anticipation.

Prologue lV
Silver Suffers no Master

It is Calibration. A time of strangeness and change. The gods are celebrating in Yu-Shan, but it is a nervous cheer. The revelry is forced, the smiles are fake. It seems that the Maiden of Endings, Lady Saturn has gone into seclusion, making some minor Great Prophecy that requires her servants to follow. The empty seat makes the circle of incarnae incomplete is damning.

The Unconquered Son sits aloof next to Luna, his panoply radiant as ever. Luna looks askance, fretting at some unknown cause. The rest of the minor gods put on their best smiles and watch as the other Sidereals quietly wonder: What secret was that Lady Jupiter did not know? What has disrupted their unity?

The Lunar Silver Claw of the Falling Stars is chained to a pillar, punishment for some vigilante justice. Despite her tremendous strength, she could not destroy the soulsteel chains that bound her. She was not free. She was captive. She could not change, either, and that was a greater insult. Who was a terrestrial to bind her in this way? If it was a dream, it was a good one.

The layer of salt between her and the outside world eroded with each passing gust. The vengeful woundseeker howled for justice outside, seething and gnashing its teeth. Following him was his revered ancestors from Sijan, eager to defend him in death where they had failed in life.

It was midnight on the first day of Calibration, and it was raining. The salt line grew smaller and smaller. The judge had intended her to have her mind shattered, her body living. She could probably fend them off, even in this state. Probably.

The rain stopped. The ghosts turned, gazing in awe. Something is behind you. Something... off.

Prologue V
Lion Roars: Lords Tremble
The First and Forsaken Lion has done something. Any action towards change in the timeless netherworld is a radical one. The Deathlords are anxious, and this time none share his plans. This time, paralleling many others, the greatest below creation meet. A jeweled palace, teeming with various amenities and grave-goods, is erected on a neutral ground.

However, only a couple of Deathlords are desperate enough to pool their intelligence. Or it could be that they are sizing up how much their opponents know. Whatever the cause, they are here. Their guards are carefully chosen, both to show peaceable intention and actual protection.

The Shifting Visage of Endless Night is called with his master, the Lover Clad in Raiment of Tears. The Lover has been sulky for the last couple of months. You don't know the reason, but your master has been light with the rewards and heavy with the punishment. Who knows what reason she is behaving this way. You find yourself in a seraglio, considerably smaller then what you are used to. The window has a nice view into the dead stars above. You stand guard, waiting.

Requiem to the Carp That Shed Its Scales has been ordered (as much as a freelancer can) to see how much they have learned. As a free man, the Deathlords will try to sway him to their side. It is going to be a superhuman effort to resist them all. Of course, needs must... You find yourself standing at the top of the cliff, with the palace nested nicely at the bottom of the cliff. It's a long way down... and the ground groans in agony.

[Gargulec]

Lyanna - though she forgot that name now, knowing that a new one will be bestowed upon her soon enough - was no stranger to death, she knew it as she would know an old companion. For the last year, she was shrouded in it, and brought herself closer to it with every day, and when the final day came, it was not abrupt or unexpected, and she wanted to pass away, disappear, be no more.

But there came that offer, that soft whispering promising the return of everything she ever held dear, if only she was to agree... so what could she do?

She had no idea where she is, and could not even see the void or the man, for she had her eyes no more. But she felt the pull of reality well enough, and heard the distant rushing of the water to which she was drawn.

And so, she silently followed the pull.

[Guancyto]

Silver Suffers no Master

Silver Claw wakens wearily from visions of Incarnae and their foolishness, letting everything burn while they sit on their thrones. Imprisoned again. She isn't entirely sure that what she is witnessing is real, or if it's the conjured fragment of some fae who has made the terrible mistake of trifling with her. She has the keenest feeling of deja vu, but she can't quite place the feeling. Still, she can't stay here. She contorts her arm. She feels the distinctive snap of bones breaking, and grits her teeth as sharp, fresh pain surges through her. Ow. Don't feel pain in a dream, do you? This is real, then.

All she needs to do is claw away enough of her flesh around the chains to be able to slip through them. She'll probably need to break her hand again, too. Maybe both of them. That's fine. If it means wreaking vengeance on the one that put her up here...

Just as she starts to get to it, the ghosts stop. They're looking behind her. She turns. Dislocates her shoulder to get a good look at it. That's fine. Better to fight it weakened than let it sneak up on her, whatever it is.

[Orosboru]

Silver Suffers no Master

"Hey, little girl, little manling." A sultry voice echoes without a chamber. You painfully turn around and see a Fair Folk fop. He... or she? He is dressed in a incredibly fancy gown that moves. He's attractive... by someone else's standard. "What's a little spider, doing all alone? You won't catch any flies with your gallon of gall, bone-breaking lunar." His voice grates like soft cheese on a sharp edge.

The ghosts hesitate, but they do not ignore the salt barrier slowly winding down to nothing. If you are dreaming, it is fast turning into a nightmare. You think you can escape, if you break a couple more bones. But you notice that he has a thin sword tucked to his belt. Most likely, you'll have to listen to him prattle.

[Guancyto]

Silver Knows No Master

Claw was never good at this being sneaky thing, but even she recognizes the need for it from time to time. She thrashes violently where she is, looking like she's trying to get at him, breaking several of the bones she'll need to free herself - and a few more besides, seeing as how it needs to look unintentional.

She stops before she thinks he'll catch on to what she's doing. She needs a few more. Need to distract him. Let him think he's got her at his mercy (in fairness, he does), let him think he's winning. Get him talking...

"What do you want, fae?" she spits.

[Orosboru]

Silver Knows No Master

"Now don't you do that, my pretty. I can't have you hurt yourself. Oh, the toys that so desperately wanted to end so early." The fae cups his head, in his hands, imitating regret. He's a bad liar.

The ghosts are howling even faster, their calls increasing with every blast of wind. The salt is almost gone away. "Quiet, you!" The fae tosses salt at them, and they shriek and shirk away. His robe flops comically in the wind, and his black hair sharpens like spikes.

"Fools shouldn't interrupt a conversation between a gentleman and a lady." He mutters to himself. "Anyway, I'm fashionably late to the gal-la event. Unfortunately for my tempestuous and beautiful self, I lack a partner for the event! And here I find you! What a stroke of fate!"

He's not a bad liar. He's the worst.

"So, hmm? Do you want to come, my pretty Lunar princess? Please say yes. I'll die if you don't come." He holds his heart, like he's going to have a heart attack. He makes a agonized face.

[Guancyto]

Silver Accepts no Master

"You're too attached to your Shape, little fae," Claw gives the faerie a wide grin, "it's too pretty for this world."

She looks again at the ghosts. Any second now. Priorities, priorities, priorities. She can humor this raksha a little, especially if someone's holding its Heart. "I'll make you a deal. I'm late for a party too. You'll like it, it's happening right here and I've invited so many people. You attend mine, I'll take a look at yours."

Without waiting for its response, she snaps the last of the bones needed to let her escape.

"But I..." she tries to pull her hands free from the shackles, and starts to laugh softly from the pain and adrenaline.

"am not..." next comes a go at removing her feet. Squeezing them through the manacles should be impossible, but the Lunar Exalted are made for the impossible.

"your princess!"

[Turalisj]

Andromalius sighed. His masters had sent him here to observe... something. Whether it was the All Seeing Eye or the Yozi, he was always told little and expected to obey.

Climb a voice in the back of his head told him. That voice had been there since he decided to receive this power. He had little choice but to listen, otherwise it would just keep talking.

Focusing his mind and energy, two floating orbs of colorless clear flames appeared on either side of him, as it did so a flame within a circle appeared on his forehead. The mark of his blessing, or curse as some might call it. A tendril from each flame lashed out at the stone, pitting it and forming handholds and footholds. Slowly but surely, he began to climb.

ooc:
Activating Mind-Hand Manipulation for 10 peripheral motes. Cutting into the rock to make it easier to climb.

[Orosboru]

Editing...

Silver Knows No Master
"Ooh!" The Fae grins. "I do like a fight." He draws his thin faery-sword. The salt barrier finally blows away and the ghosts howl towards you...

Ebon Dragon Stays True
The blasted Malfeas-Rock is easily carved away. It falls, bleeding little whispers. There is a long road ahead...

OCC:

Guancyto: Roll join battle. Combat is abstracted, but inform me if you want to do something mechanical with area.
Turalisj: roll strength + athletics, or what you find appropriate.

[Guancyto]

Silver Suffers No Master

Claw lets her laughter grow raucous as she collapses at the base of the pillar. Despite her... decidedly prone state, she looks at the approaching ghosts with a challenge in her eyes and on her lips. "Come on then! Let's see how well you fight someone who isn't chained to a rock!"

Join Battle - [roll0] - er, botch. Yay. Not much mechanical, just dropping into warform with Bruise-Relief Method, Halting the Scarlet Flow and Claws of the Silver Moon all at once on the first tick I get to act, and possibly nipping at some ghosts if they come near. Tearing up the scenery can come later. :3

[Orosboru]

Silver Knows No Master

B-b-b-botch! B-b-b-botch!


You spring for his throat, but the soulsteel grabs on to your flesh. It tears and bites, and a new wave of agony as the bone twists in another direction...


you suffer 2 lethal levels of damage.


You manage to free yourself, but this happens whilst you struggle.

The fae prince eagerly hacks apart the ghosts with elegant grace, using some weird magic that you have no idea what. His sword tears through their corpus as easily as flesh. He is estastic, but he is also... defending you.

With a whispered word, he does a cartwheel and does a whirling spin. He slashes a entire group of war-ghosts, their undying screeches going dim as they dematerialize. His hair lengthens and brightens as he continues his slaughter, dancing a elegant pole dance which is suggestive. Not that it appeals to you.

The woundseeker persists still, but a quarter of the ghosts are gone. They hesitate, not willing to be destroyed with such ease.

It's your move. Several ghosts are at your front and back, and the faery prince ducks and weaves behind the pole, and behind you.

[Turalisj]

Andromalius climbed. As he climbed, the malfean rock began to get looser and looser.

And he slipped. He cursed himself as he did so, cursing how his body wasn't strong enough, cursing how he never bothered to learn proper climbing techniques. And cursing that he didn't bring any smokes with him.

He wondered if there were any demons that would pass by, but doubted it. He also doubted he could create an essence construct large enough to reach the top of the cliff.

[Guancyto]

Silver Needs No Master

Claw screeches to the heavens as she comes alive in a bonfire of silver. Four spindly appendages spring from her back. They tear through her clothes, each one wreathed in filaments of deadly moonsilver as the silver claws spring from feet and hands. Her entire body soon follows as a large, hairy spider-human with beady eyes and hungry mandibles rises from the ground.

"You should have killed me when you had the chance!" the spider chitters. Surrounded. That simplifies her problem. Her natural limbs are still broken and useless, but the fine threads of silver will cut as surely as any blade, and each one is backed by the full strength of an angry Lunar. She strikes with every spider-limb in every direction, before pouncing on one of those still remaining and rending it with her fangs.

Warform, silver claws yay, healing one lethal and one bashing per action, 8m committed to Gifts. Rising from prone and murderifying anything that gets close. The flurry penalties are probably obscene.

[Orosboru]

Ebon Dragon Stays True
Verily, it a poor exalt who is defeated by a small cliff. Lo, the ages will tell of this Infernal who was too unskilled to climb a tiny cliff. :smallannoyed:

The sky rumbles, declaring a decree of... anything. You're missing something. You better get up there. Somehow. Punching it in half, maybe.

Forsooth, it is a lady walking the path! Perhaps she will be able to help you. How fortuitous!

[Turalisj]

Swearing to himself again, he got up and grabbed his cane. Adjusting his hat as he dusted off, he sighed and started walking.

You're a screw up.

Shut up

Putting on his best smile, he took off his hat and gave the woman a bow. Pardon ma'am, would you happen to know the quickest route to the top of this cliff? he spoke in the dialect of Malfeas.

[Orosboru]

Ebon Dragon Stays True
"Hello, little man." The lady is red-haired, and is tall of stature. "How might you be here, on this good night? There are strange things on the roads. But to get up there, you must answer a riddle." She giggles. She cracks open a fan, and starts fanning the air around them.

Silver Needs No Master
Your silvered limbs tear into the manifested ghosts. Two of them scream in silent agony before they die.

The last one within reach falls victim to your bite. Your fangs sink into his ghostly body. It tastes of crypt ash and old vellum. You gnaw him out as he cowers beneath you, desperately - and failing - to escape. He crumbles to dust, his soul screeching to oblivion.

The ghosts ineffectually attack the prince, as he deftly evades their blows. The woundseeker slowly approaches, and he lunges to strike...

OCC

4 successes. Dodge or parry? Urg. Screwed up on dice roll...

[Turalisj]

"Then speak m'lady, and let us find the answer."

I can always remove a limb or two if she becomes too much of a pain.

[Orosboru]

Ebon Dragon Stays True

"So, pray, tell me, what is in my pocket?" Her face grows serious, and she fondles something deep within her clothes. "Fail, and you will be thrown." :smallamused:

[Turalisj]

Andros sighed. "The answer to this questions varies from being to being. There is no truly correct answer, for one will always give a different anawer than another." he took off his hat, his caste mark still glimmering. "Now, I have some rather pressing business atop that cliff and have little in the way of arriving there. And I would rather like to avoid fighting, my talents are rather skewed towards research."

[Orosboru]

Ebon Dragon Stays True

"You're no fun." She pouts. "Oh well. I suppose you should come with me. I can't tell riddles to the poor exalts, my mother said."

She effortlessly floats up, beckoning for you to come. "Do hang on. It isn't very far..."

[Turalisj]

Andros smiled. "Your mother sounds like a smart woman." He said, grabbing her hand.

Likely one of Adorjan's progeny. She certainly has the attention span.

[Orosboru]

Ebon Dragon Stays True
The view is thrilling, but her grip is firm. The dread skies of Malfeas crackle with essence. Something monumental is happening.

As you reach the top, you see that the Ebon Dragon talking, but you cannot hear him - his voice has gone away with the wind. He has taken a human form, but the details are obscured by the ever-present shadow that surrounds him.

Ceclyene is nowhere to be seen.

"You owe me something, mister! I took you up here, and I ask a favour from you." She stretches out her arms, the wind screaming through her hair. "Won't you please say yes?"

[Grim ranger]

Lion Roars: Lords Tremble

The Shifting Visage of Endless Night is somewhat nervous. The recent events have, for whatever reason, forced the powerful of the Underworld to actually meet and discuss... and it seems that the event in question is affecting the mood of his mistress. Of course he does not really care whenever or not the Lover is sulky or extatic in the slightest, but the direct effects of her mood are something he always has to take into account. Since signing himself over to the unending slavery, he has always disliked or oughtright even hated Lover and her court, but he knows enough to keep his feelings just as private as his motives. Failure to do so would mean quite spectacular punishments, and he does not want to know how creative the deathlord can get with such if she can turn any being into wishing for sheer oblivion through pleasure alone. Thus, he acts out his role, doing as he was bid... so in this particular case standing guard as he was ordered to.

The Lover's foul mood has put the deathknight wondering about the possibility of success his initial plan of defection would have, though. Normally, he manages to elude the long notice of the Lover by dutifully doing every assignment he is given, prefertably away from his immortal patron if at all possible. Even his perfect mental pokerface can no doulbt crumble were the deathlord try to break answers out of him, but so far he has managed to avoid any such discussion, even though he is seen as somewhat odd by the rest of the court. Even the other deathknights of the Lover tend to walk softly around him, for the masked and cloaked archer tends to remain separated from the rest of them and, even though apparently very loyal, is almost entirely unreadable, fitting when considering the second part of his skillset.

Turning his masked face to regard the dead stars, Visage remains on the spot with his hands folded, waiting. He is certainly interested in what the deathlords and Lover in particular are discussing or going to discuss about, since it might much help him in his plan to change his allegiance and get out of her reach before pursuit can be orchestrated to catch him. Getting caught while trying to escape would likely earn him pain beyond any words invented by man, so he is not going to risk it unless the chance is certain one.

Keeping his silent vigil, the deathknight sighs, small cloud of mist eminating from the mouth of the ebony funeral mask. Hopefully something will happen soon.

[Turalisj]

Ebon Dragon Stays True
The view is thrilling, but her grip is firm. The dread skies of Malfeas crackle with essence. Something monumental is happening.

As you reach the top, you see that the Ebon Dragon talking, but you cannot hear him - his voice has gone away with the wind. He has taken a human form, but the details are obscured by the ever-present shadow that surrounds him.

Ceclyene is nowhere to be seen.

"You owe me something, mister! I took you up here, and I ask a favour from you." She stretches out her arms, the wind screaming through her hair. "Won't you please say yes?"

"Well that, m'lady, varies on the favor. I was instructed to remain here until notified otherwise, so it cannot involve my leaving of this area. Nor any alterations to my form or mind, not something I enjoy too well."


OOC:
Init+Occult roll to see what forms the Yozi like to take
[roll0]
And potential 10's.... [roll1]

[Volthawk]

Damon, or at least the one who used to be called Damon, stands in place for a little while, trying to relive the experience he just had, before focusing back on reality. He watches the others with him under his Grey Mantle, before striding over to the corpse-man.

[Guancyto]

Silver Suffers No Master

Claw grins again as the woundseeker approaches her. The others are ash and dust, but this one she will enjoy gutting. She ducks low and leaps straight at him, her entire weight colliding with him at lightning speed, knocking him off his feet before he can finish the strike.

Leaving her towering over him, claws and filaments arced wide, ready to fall upon him and tear him to pieces.

Electing to parry, 1-die stunt should be enough to make it miss.

[Recaiden]

The Primordial Dream

And she listens to that voice. She has not come this far to die. It can be rationalized away with freedom from Adorjan, sympathy for her fallen cousins, thirst for the power she remembers having, and these did play a part. But first and foremost, she would not die here like a wise star.

A nameless one walks forward towards the man, her first steps unsteady, but picking up confidence. She would run for the joy of it, but that would not be right in this place. She would sing a grand song, of that enduring tree, blue sands lost, and an enduring spirit, but in this still air, all she can bring herself to is a faint tuneless humming.
Solemnity is new to this one.

After a moment she notices the others. Like her, stopped at the door of death. But the corpse-man's garden beckons...She continues on, fascinated and unnerved by this place.

[Orosboru]

The Primordial Dream

Drawn closer to this strange oasis in a sea of emptiness, you fast approach the man. His flesh is pale, and most of his hair has fallen away. His feet tickle the tops of the waters, and he swings gently from a vine extending from the tree. There is a smile on his face.

You all feel more... tangible.

"Good day to you, servants of the Unconquered Sun." A large voice echoes, but it is distorted - too deep, too long, and too brief.

Ebon Dragon Stays True

She opens her mouth to say something, but it catches in her throat. Momentarily embarrassed, she blushes. "I... wanted something else. But for now, mortal Exalt, I will be satisfied with a kiss."

Cecylene arrives! The sandstorm blows in, battering everyone on the heath. The sand comes and bleeds together, weaving into a comely form with every grain in perfect arrangement. She comes with no servants - what is she doing?

The Ebon Dragon is the epitome of treachery - it could take a form of a lover, a brother, or even a fellow traveler. What he does prefer are forms that shield him from the rays of the Unconquered Sun - a pampered princess with a parasol, a rich beggar swathed in rags, and others.

Cecylene is even more difficult. She is content to stay in her form of the endless desert, but when humans need to be dealt with she takes the form of mortals that serve the law, such as the city watch or a judge.


Lion Roars: Lords Tremble

The palatial palace of puissant promise is located in the center of the Underworld, close to the yearning gap of Oblivion. The Neverborn He Who Holds In Thrall moans in his dreams, and his voice has overwhelmed the mere whispers of the others. No one knows why he does this, but they do know that he is the patron of the First and Forsaken Lion. And they worry, for this is another portent of another's victory.

Gems carved into fronts of jade and soulsteel adorn the palace, which also serves as a great Manse. The halls are designed to account for the tastes of the Deathlords, but so far you have only seen the Lover's Halls. It is a large room, with countless slaves, special beds, and other dubious devices of her favourite activity.

The hall outside, as you have gotten used to looking at, is flat soulsteel. A awning lets you see the stars of the dead, shining a cold, flat light and giving no solace from the permanent murk of the underworld. Occasionally, eunuchs take in new slaves and supplies, and take out the dead and expired.

It's all gone quiet - which either means everyone in that room is dead, or she is preparing to go out. Most likely the former. You haven't seen any servants for some time.

[Guancyto]

Silver Suffers No Master, Gondor Needs No King

Claw's laughter reaches a crescendo as her clawed hands and feet right themselves from their misshapen state. She falls upon the prone woundseeker like a thunderbolt in the rain, rending, tearing her claws into his chest, burrowing the spines of moonsilver into his ribcage and pulling out his bones along with his flesh. Raking her legs into his unprotected belly to spill out his guts along with his heart.

This is Guan actually sitting down and figuring out how his natural attacks work! Yay! 2 kicks, 3 punches, so -5, -6, -7, -8, -9.
[roll0]
[roll1]
[roll2]
[roll3]
[roll4]

[Grim ranger]

Lion Roars:Lords Tremble

Visage is not surprised that no sound eminates from the chamber of the Lover: after his service thus far, he has gotten used to the particular quirks of his mistress. He even enjoys the small period of calm, seeing as he does not have to face the deathlord and thus possibly risk her ire. Watching the dead stars and standing guard suit him just fine for the time being.

Still, his unease does not vanish. Why would Lover put him, maybe the best infiltrator she has, to mere guard duty? Something in the situation does not add up, and he does not like it... But waits patiently still. Sooner or later he would know the reason.

[Orosboru]

I see what you did there.

Silver Suffers No Master
Threshing his flesh like a gale, his corpus floats like smoke on the wind, his agonized face telling that he faces oblivion as his final fate as he disappears. Your claws stick with the ichor of the ghost, smelling of plasm and dust until he disappears to his final end.

The Fair Folk Prince roars a cry of triumph, and the other ghosts flee, not willing to defend the honour of a descendant who has already fled beyond their grasp. The prince smiles as they wink out of the small shadowland that surrounded the pole. You stand, and the Prince faces you, his sword at the ready.

"You really do know how to show me some good fun." He wipes away the swirling wisps around his sword. "But that's enough for now, er... what should I call you, Princess?" He tilts his head.

[Guancyto]

Silver Suffers No Master, just as planned

Silver Claw takes a moment, breathing heavily after such a blur of motion, unconcerned with inhaling the grey flecks of her enemy's corpus. Oblivion. Good. He deserved it. "'Mistress' will do. 'Sil' if that's a problem for you," she says, hauling herself to her feet and walking over to the pillar.

"I'm guessing you have some ridiculous, overwrought title you want to be called like 'He Who is Ever-Concerned With Finery' or 'The Boy With the Seven Word Name' or 'The Artist Formerly Known as Prince.' Yeah?"

Not waiting for his answer, she starts pulling at the soulsteel chains that had held her. Something capable of holding a Lunar, even as clumsily as these, shouldn't just be left behind. With no prisoner in them, they should come free more easily, but failing that she can tear the pillar apart.

[Orosboru]

Silver Suffers No Master

"Oh, you jest, my... mistress? It is a poor tasting word, but if you so wish. He sheaths his sword. Those who claim to the title, and yet are not, should be. Alas! He stretches his hands out. My name is plebian, and unworthy of your ears. Call me of what you wish, and I shall respond.

He looks at you, dismayed at your struggles. "Oh, tosh. I guess that everyone has their own souvenirs. But we did have a deal, my mistress. I went to your party, now you must come to mine. And you wouldn't want to miss it, either.

[Turalisj]

"I'm afraid your favor will have to wait m'lady. It seems the other has just arrived." Andromalius said, giving a slight smile that nonetheless showed off his pointed teeth.

[Guancyto]

Silver Suffers No Master

"Mm, it is a poor-sounding word. From you, at least," Sil agrees, not pausing in her struggle to steal the chains. "Let's stick with 'Sil.' I'm in a good mood, so I think I'll call you... Melusine. I'll come with you when I'm done here."

Large chips of stone come off the pillar as she tears into it get the soulsteel out of it. Her claws are as unbreakable as any artifact, and any damage she herself suffers as a result will quickly heal.

[Orosboru]

Ebon Dragon Stays True

"I am here, Dragon of the Ebon Black. What is it of great report you wish to communicate with us?" The sands seeth with outrage. They are bloody, and vengeful. You don't want to be in his shoes. Her voice echoes with a thousand slamming books, a hundred grinding gears, and ten innocent tears.

"Oh, you know me too well, Cecylene." The Ebon Dragon, for a moment, briefly brightened his pall. It did not improve his look. "Doubtlessly you wish to learn of my newest betrayal?" His voice changed with every sentence, playing emotions like so many keys.
"Cease your prattling. I was told that you know where he is."
"He? I don't know what you are talking about. A mortal lover, mayhaps?"
"Insufferable least one, tell me the least of your lies. You would not waste my time if it did not benefit you."
"There is a issue with... her. You know which one.
"Her? I thought it was you that..."
"No, it was not. But be silent - someone is listening." The Ebon Dragon turns.

[Recaiden]

[The Primordial Dream]

This one's song comes to an end as she stands beside the edge of the waters. She grants the man a nod of greeting. "Good day. But we're not the ones you've been expecting. He was a well-made god, but I would never serve him. Do any of us?"

The singer turns and looks curiously at the other soon-to-be deathknights. If they remain the Sun's servants, they must be taught the error of such ways.

[Turalisj]

The Ebon Dragon Stays True

Andromalius stepped forward, taking off his hat and giving each of the Yozi a low bow. "Pardon the intrusion m'lord and m'lady. I was given biddence to come here." He said in old realm. He had to watch himself here, one wrong step could mean an eternity of torment.

[Gargulec]

Blackbrid stopped only after she felt her walking stick pierce the surface of the still water. She heard both his and singer's questions, and spoke only after them.

'His light and glory I see no more' voice of the blindfolded one was soft and faint, like a whisper or a wind. 'So how could I serve him?' she asked, somewhat rhetorically. 'But I wonder' she added after a moment, turning her blind face towards the others. 'Who else was called with me, to this eerie place?'

[Orosboru]

Silver Suffers No Master
"Well, I'll be! She gave me a name! Now-" Melusine is interrupted by a distortion at the edge of the shadowland. Five strangers, cloaked with essence and bearing signs of the realm, emerge near the pillar.

"ANATHEMA!" The lead woman cries out in outrage. "You will pay for the desecration of house Mmenon!" She takes a deep breath. "THE WYLD HUNT WILL BRING YOU DOWN!" she yells. Her anima flares with a bright, orange spiral of flame. Her companions look askance, covering their eyes from the glare. She takes a look at Sil. "A Lunar?" Her companions shrug. "No matter. Prepare to die, you bastard!"

"You weren't saying that earlier, when I was still with you. 'Oh brother, go faster, please-

The Terrestrial is shocked. For a moment, her flame goes out. "E-e-enough!" Her flame burns brighter. "Die!" Her jade Daiklave swings out and she lunges for Melusine. He dodges with a big, fat smirk. He's enjoying this.

"You wouldn't be this wrathful if you simply were after his body. No, the taste is one of betrayal and shame. Oh - you actually thought you could love him in that way?" He dodges another blow. "How pitiful. I thought that you'd be a different pattern, but once again you fail expectations, Mmenon-"

"Shut. Up." Melusine stays quiet. "Secure the Lunar Anathema, my brethren. I'll deal with his lies myself." Her fire seems more contained, but extremely focused.

"As mortals say, discretion is the whole part of valor. Shall we leave, my mistress, to the Calibration party?" Melusine has the same mask of bliss on his face, but a touch of concern is readable in his stance.

Ebon Dragon Stays True
"He owes me!" the woman shouts. "He agreed, and he won't pay up!"
"Oh?" The Ebon Dragon laughs a deep and sarcastic bellow.
Cecelyne is displeased, but a matter of arbitration had come to her attention. "IS THIS TRUE, EXALT?"

Lion Roars: Lords Tremble
Something is out there. Something is trying to sneak past you. Something... small. You can feel it. Hell, it might be a break from boring guard duty.


roll wits+awareness.

[Guancyto]

Silver Suffers No Master

Sil smirks, closing her eyes for a moment as she concentrates. Not a full hawk, just the... "Pay for the desecration of Mnemon, huh? Sounds like fun. It's a date, dragonlings."

Her red eyes blaze silver for a moment as her anima stretches to even an even higher height. Brown, feathered wings stretch from her back between the her new set of legs, filigreed with silver threads like the rest of her.

She gives a low giggle. "Look forward to it," she says, charging straight for Melusine and grabbing him as she runs. When she's gained enough speed, she jumps high and takes flight up, up and away from the battlefield.

Paying 4m for the Wings abomination via Hybrid Body Rearrangement, followed by dashing, grabbing the fae, jumping and taking flight. Full Moon anima should be active with 12m peripheral spent this scene, so movements are tripled in total. Jump distance should be 27 yards straight up, while dash/flight should be 36 yards/tick. DV penalty for that flurry is something enormous.

[Turalisj]

"Our agreement, m'lady, that she would let me up here in return for a favor. However, I have already had a task to complete that I agreed upon with my benefactor, which requires the favor owed to be postponed until such a time as my previous engagement is complete." Andromalius dropped the charming smile, it wouldn't work with a representative of Cecelye anyway.

[DukeGod]

Lion Roars, Lords Tremble

Requiem looked from the edge of the cliff. He was in one of his moments of lucid thought and was well aware of his lack of climbing ability. He could draw upon the power of the Neverborn but didn't wish to do so right now. Surviving the fall didn't seem too likely either

Feeling his own mind diverge from the matter and with hurry he comes to a solution. Thrusting Migratory Phoenix into the cliff with controlled force as not to cause a crack that will stop him from softening the fall, he plants his feet on the cliff's edge and slides down. The orichalcum lance should be enough to cut the rock and slow the speed, but as he notices it trembles a lot. Requiem puts some effort into keeping it steady, yet he uses some of the trembles to waver from the original path and dodge a particularly nasty rock or simply go to a place that seems to give him actual stable footing. Once he gets there, taking a pause to breath, he repeats the process until he can reach the bottom of the cliff

It was tiring, he notices during the third slide, however it seemed mostly safe. Even if he couldn't quite get to the bottom of the cliff during it diminishing the height would make him that more likely to survive the fall either way

[Grim ranger]

Lion Roars: Lords Tremble

Suddenly realizing that something is trying to evade his notice, Visage draws his bow from his back and nocks an arrow, his eyes scanning his surroundings. Lover will not be pleased if he will allow intruders to roam free.

Rolling Wits + Awareness now.

[roll0]

[Orosboru]

Ebon Dragon
"SO IT BE." She turns to the woman. "Waste not my time, lady fair."
"Never thought of it." she says tentatively.
"Heh, what a doofus this exalt is!"
The plains shudder as the Ebon Dragon moves closer. "I must be quick." He turns to the mortal exalt. "There is a act concerning us. Near the obelisk. A vision comes, a sphere of a vision from elsewhere. Hungry ghosts are slain by a whirling dervish, and a Lunar is barely visible, chained below the oculus.
"This has not been anticipated. I need a agent there. Now.
"You will owe me, Ebon Dragon."
"The cost has been paid. So, agent of another, your task has been completed. I give you a new one. What say you?"

Silver Suffers No Master
You effortlessly pick Melusine by the scruff of his neck, dashing past the cold, furious terrestrial. You sprout wings, and take flight - evading a spike of earth, which was manifested from another too quickly. Your anima banner flares, demonstrating without a doubt that you are actually a lunar and not some fae trick. A woman air aspect dressed in immaculate robes rises to meet you, but the prince has anticipated this. He looks at her - and she falls over with a smile on her face. He smirks. Again.

And suddenly...

roll wits + awareness, yo


Lion Roars, Lords Tremble
It has disappeared - you don't know where it is. Interrupting your concentration, a man is gliding down the earthen rampart, a lance tearing its way through the earth, slowing his fall. The horrific sound of rock shattering can be heard everywhere. Clearly, stealth is not his forte. The rock ends, and he jumps off towards you.

You descend easily, the vibrations of your lance making your teeth chatter. The friction is making your hand extremely hot, and you wince. Seeing the rock end so quickly, you quickly react and jump off.

Yay, extra sucesses!

Unfortunately, there is only one place to land - a huge balcony. There is a man standing guard, and he looks alert. You could land elsewhere, but it looks difficult.

[Guancyto]

Silver Suffers No Master

"We can stick around if you're having too much fun to leave," Sil smirks too, giving a mighty flap of her wings to carry them beyond the reach of any archers that might be handy.

And then...

Wits+Awareness! ...I really should invest in awareness... [roll0]

[Turalisj]

The Ebon Dragon Stays True

Andromalius gave the Ebon Dragon's avatar a low bow, sweeping his hat in front of him as he did so. "So be it m'lord. All I require is a way to get there and I shall do as asked." He put the hat back on, his eyes glittering like black jewels underneath it.

[Grim ranger]

Lion Roars, Lords Tremble

Seeing a new and much more visible threat present itself in spectacularly clear manner, Visage forgets about the more subtle one for the time being and aims his arrow right between the eyes of the newcomer. Taking a stable firing stance as the lance-wielding man lands to the balcony, Visage speaks in very calm and cold voice.

"You are entering an off-limits area. State your business and prove you are not a foe or remove yourself from the premises. Further intrusion will be noticed, contained and dealt with. This is your only warning."

[Orosboru]

Ebon Dragon Stays True

"PERFECT." The Ebon Dragon grabs you with a spectral claw, and you enter... him. You flail around in the darkness and sand...

Cecylene twitches, and a demon tumbles out. She is dressed in a pink dress, and she looks exhausted. "My mistress, it is exhausting to take your form, even in this lessened form."

The Ebon Dragon explodes. And then comes back as Cecylene, her sand much more powerful then the one seen before. "You did well, my servant. You had a task greater then mine. It is easy to have a few shadows to wreath a disguise."

"TOO EASY." The woman's face twitches, and the Ebon Dragon emerges. "I EVEN GOT A DEAL OUT OF HIM, TOO. WHAT A SUCKER."

Cecylene looks haughty. "Enough deception for now, Ebon Dragon. I did not enjoy your form, as you do yours."

"I LOO-VE DRESSES!" he mocks. "Anyway, you did me a favor. And now the news you wanted to hear. Au-

You scream? Or not? Anyway, you emerge finally and you see a pair of legs...


look for the big hint! one of these empty spaces between paragraphs does not belong...
oh, and roll some dice to grab on. Unless you want to keep company with some pissed terrestrials.


Silver Suffers no Master
The obelisk, which is evident to see when you are not tied to it, is pulsing with a green light. A portal opens with a blinding shot of green light as a man is shot straight at you. With a fair folk prince to carry, you can't dodge...

[Guancyto]

Silver Suffers No Master

Sil acts fast. She doesn't know what's going on here, but the best place for a mysterious man from nowhere is right in the reach of her claws. She spins in place, throwing the fae prince straight up and doing her best to catch the man.

Regardless of her success or failure, she then dives as quickly as possible to retrieve the fae. No need to let it die until she knows who has sent it and why. Ah, the advantages of having eight limbs!

I'ma go with Dex+Athletics to catch Andros, followed by another one to re-catch the fae. [roll0] You... should probably roll too, just to make sure. Falling damage hurts.

[roll1]

[DukeGod]

Seeing no need to land anywhere, Requiem jumps from the cliff unto the balcony, landing first on his two feet, but as his knee bends from the momentum that throws him forward he puts his hand on the grouund as one of his knees touch it aswell, to stop him from falling in his face

As he slowly stands again, his erraticaly cut hair makes a mess on his face covering nearly all of it, but allowing his smile to be seen. Aware that it could cause him to be seen as a threat, but his mind telling him appropriate to the entrance he just made, Requiem twirls the Direlance, ending the performance with strike on the ground that does do more than raise golden and white sparks. The wind though brushes most of the hair off his face, letting for some seconds, the scar on his forehead, shaped like the Moonshadow Caste Mark be seen

"I am Requiem to the Carp That Shed Its Scales, Champion of the Dead, Prince of the Underworld, One of the Hollow Darknesss and Deathknight to None! I summon the Old Laws, and the protection of the Oblivion. You will do me...no haarm, lest you sin against Death

He keeps smiling. No laugh thought, it would be disrespectful. For now at least

"Now. Take me yo...ur, maaster"

[Orosboru]

STORYLINE MERGE TYME

Sil catches Andros in the air, shadowy trails of the immense energy it took to come here so fast bleeding off with enormous effect. The taste of Infernal essence is incredibly strong. It is a tangle of limbs, and Andros clumsily grabs on to Sil, pawing at her body. It is uncomfortable, and he is considerably more heavy then Melusine.

Sil compensates, throwing Melusine up like a rag doll. He laughs with glee as he does a triple backflip in the air. He reaches the apex of his ascent... and stops falling.

"Follow me, my mistress! We have a ways to go!" He starts to run quickly, seemingly standing on nothing.

[Turalisj]

Silver Suffers No Master

Sil acts fast. She doesn't know what's going on here, but the best place for a mysterious man from nowhere is right in the reach of her claws. She spins in place, throwing the fae prince straight up and doing her best to catch the man.

Regardless of her success or failure, she then dives as quickly as possible to retrieve the fae. No need to let it die until she knows who has sent it and why. Ah, the advantages of having eight limbs!

I'ma go with Dex+Athletics to catch Andros, followed by another one to re-catch the fae. [roll0] You... should probably roll too, just to make sure. Falling damage hurts.

[roll1]

Don't think I need to roll with that XD I'll just let the er, spider-bird lady catch me.

Activating Loom-Snarling Deception for 7 personal motes. Anyone checking the Loom for him would suddenly find their pattern spider breaking out into a rendition of Never Gonna Give You Up.

As Sil caught him, the shadows wrapped around Andros again. When they shadowed, his form had changed. He wore a white shirt, black suit, black tie, and black pants. All were immaculately pressed and clean. A brass band was around his left wrist. His hair was a close cut light brown, and his eyes slate grey blue.

"Oh, it appears I have been caught by a... well, I'm honestly not sure what you are m'lady." He remarked, surprisingly calm.

[Grim ranger]

Visage does not shift an inch, keeping the arrow nocked and aimed right at the face of Requiem. Nothing is shown by either body language or the face of the deathknight, the mask and his control over his movements granting him the stoicness of stone statue. He is not apparently impressed by the other deathknight's little show in the slightest.

"I care not for the protection of Oblivion, nor the old laws. You are entering the domain of my mistress, and she has ordered me to keep any unwanted visitors out... And my loyality to her takes priority to old laws. So unless you are here for a reason, I suggest telling it or I will end your existence."

He pulls the bowstring back for another couple of inches, the arrow beginning to glow with deathly cold blue flame as his essence surrounds it in preparation of attack.

[Guancyto]

The moonsilver filaments on Sil's spider legs come inches away from biting into Andros' flesh as she flies with him in her arms. She grins, and he can see the same silver lining her sharp, jagged teeth. Meanwhile a full moon is lit on her forehead, she is surrounded by anima flames and spectral images of small spiders crawl across any surface they can find. Several of these skitter across Andros due to his proximity, but they cast no weight or shadow. There are also tattoos, and what looks like a blackened hearthstone inset right over her heart.

"Same to you, shadowchild. Why don't you tell me first?" she says before shouting upward. "Hey Melusine! Is he invited?"

This day is getting more interesting by the minute.

[Turalisj]

Andromalius smiled. "The name is Bond. James Bond."

[Orosboru]

In the distance, you hear: "Another strange thing for the party? Perfect! I shall be a hit! And what a great name! I have yet to see the latest movie." As you follow, you see a visible distortion in the air. "Quickly, my mistress, you must follow, for the road is tricky, even for me."

Sil

you smell the stench of the Wyld.


The Terrestrials go to their downed teammate, and are busy with other things. Without their air aspect, they follow you poorly.

[Guancyto]

"Huh. Well, come with me if you want to live," Sil deadpans, doing a barrel roll in the air to remind him of who exactly is keeping who from a grisly death.

"I'm Sil. The hell kind of a name is 'James,' anyway?" she says, following the fae even through the hard road. The Wyld, huh? Might as well take a look. It isn't her first time, and it probably won't be her last.

[Orosboru]

The Primordial Dream


"Names. What are they? Do they bind us to the masters that we serve? A descriptor of our inner hearts? I do not remember the names that I gave tomorrow."

The man opens his eyes. You see blackness beyond description. In his presence, the sightless see. The deaf hear. The mute speak in awe.

"I am HE WHO HOLDS IN THRALL, and I was never born. I was, and now I am not. Again, who approaches me, chosen of the Unconquered Sun?"


The man stands, and a spectral vision of shadowy glory, a Primordial of the senses, battering down the peaks of vision and the limits of minds. And it fades.

[Turalisj]

"Mmm... I don't know honestly. Parents had an odd sense of humor." He said. He looked down and sighed. He needed a drink. "So, where are we and where are we headed?"

[Orosboru]

Living In The Sunlight, Loving In The Moonlight

"We go to pick up a very special lady. She's waiting for us in a very special place." The prince is interrupted by a sword through his chest. He stares down at the wound curiously. He looks back at the terrestrial that threw it at him - the woman.

"You'll have to do better then that!" He picks it out and throws it back. "You're no fun now. I have a party to go to."

"I'll get you someday, I swear. The wyld hunt will never cease chasing you."

"Oh? Well, I look forward to seeing you again, my sweet. I didn't know that you liked me so much. He turns to Sil. Come closer, mistress. We have to go deeper. I haven't visited this place for a long time.

[Guancyto]

"The Wyld, it seems like," Sil grins even wider, "to be attacked by goblins and fae, our minds ensnared by living dreams and waking nightmares, our minds and bodies broken and reshaped by the pressure of unreality itself."

She spares a casual glance at one of her free limbs. "Hmm, we might even be mutating right now."

And then she dives in closer to the fae.

[Volthawk]

"Chosen of the Sun? No, that I am not. That is one thing I am sure of." He goes quiet for a few seconds in thought. "Given that a Deathlord gave me this power, I guess I'm the Chosen of...whoever gave them the capacity to give Exaltations."

[Turalisj]

"Well, I should be glad to the power of the Peerless Flame. I'll be fine with the chaotic energies of the Wyld. It'll just be a bit tingly."

[DukeGod]

Lion Roar, Lords Tremble

With a sigh, Requiem looks up to the stars, then once to each side and spends a rather good amount of time simply staring at the ground. He didn't seem to have a reason, he just did it. Then, he says suddenly

"Do not triffle with the Old Laws little one. Very well then. I seek an alliance with the Lo...ver. If you so wish, I will oath to follow the customs of her court and that I will not initiate agressions"

He puts the direlance in his back, strapping part of it to one of the silk strands tied to his shorts and tying the other with some of his actual hair. It seemed to hang somewhat loose, but it was going to remain still

Finally, he begins to wonder if he could use his power to convince the guardian, but Requiem wanted to reserve it for the Lover's court. They were going to be the truly dangerous ones

[Orosboru]

"Tingly?" You'll feel something different later." He starts to sing.


I'm really, really sorry, I have to apologize
That I killed your mate and get
I swore an oath to you guys
That I'll be forever in your debt

But now's time prophesied
by uppity mortals, and others
the land is sawn with seed
and our courts banded by brothers

So, by the agreements of the Unconquered Sun
I humbly ask permission for Gate twenty and one
to let us pass into the homes of the ones before
so as long as our number is less then four.


The Wyld... twists. There is a calm, a small torii gate that sticks out like a sore thumb for its permanent nature. A woman sits at the entrance, looking alert and yet at the same time bored.

Melusine looks exhausted. Rather then traveling physically, he has spent a lot of essence on some strange charm. His anima banner flickers with little moons, in various states of shape. "Well, we're here. I don't want to do that ever again, so as long as creation exists. Don't wonder off, little ones, where I cannot protect you. Don't attack anyone, either."

[Grim ranger]

Lion Roar, Lords Tremble

Not lowering his bow or even ceasing the flow of essence to the arrow, Visage makes only smallest of nods in acknowledgement. "Then swear your oath, fellow servant of the Neverborn. I will be waiting, and after that I will take you to her. She might even be glad you arrived, but I would caution you to be careful: many who venture into her chambers, invited and uninvited alike, never come back."

[Gargulec]

The glories are denied to Blackbird, and while she can feel the power that still lingers - so many millennia after they should be gone, forgotten - she is not awed nor terrified by things she cannot see.

She brought her walking stick up, so that it stood straight at her side.

'I know the voice that promised me, and it was not yours' she replied, though words did not come easy to her in that bleak presence. A single, obsidian butterfly landed on the top of her stick, batting his wings in the sill air. 'Why did you call me, then, You Who Hold In Thrall?'

[DukeGod]

Lion Roars, Lords Tremble

Ceasing to smile, Requiem approaches Visage trying not to look menacing

"I will need to touch your hand for this"

Touching the hand that Visage is using to hold the arrow, Requiem lets the blue flames scorch his skin a little bit seemingly without noticing it. Then the closes his eyes and begins to speak

"I oath, not to initiate hostilities against the Lover Clad in Nothing of Consequence and to follow the customs of her court, until I leave her territory. In exchange, this proxy of her whose hand I hold, will lead me to her, unharmed"

With a cacophonic orchestra suddenly playing and the sudden explosion of necrotic essence that covers his body gives him the mantle of darkness that brightens the surrounding. Even the pitch-black, seems a hue of gray upon being close to him

"Now. Once more I say. Take me to your master"

10m Periphereal +1 Willpower to use the Eclipse anima oath
Personal: 16/16
Periphereal: 14/24
Temp. Willpower ●●●●● ●●●●
Edit:Changed her title to a more mocking one. Blame Guancyto

[Grim ranger]

Lion Roars, Lords Tremble

Nodding quite matter-of-factly, Visage stops channeling essence and lowers his bow, returning the weapon to his back. "Follow me. I do not know how she will receive you, but she has not been forgiving as of late", the deathknight says omniously, walking to the door of Lover's chamber and knocking on it before entering.

[Orosboru]

The Primordial Dream

The dead primordial shifts, as if uncertain as to the origin of your questions."When a mortal dies, it is said, in his last moments of agony he revisits his life. In that last spark of existence, the last second lasts for ages as they experience their deaths."

His head twists, and his body withers. "You killed me."
He points to a direction in the sky. Dead stars surround the sphere that surrounds this plane of existence. There is a small light. There is much shadow.

"Come to me, servants of my servants of my servants, and serve your lord, Princess Magnificent with Lips of Coral and Robes of Black Feathers, who serves The First and Forsaken Lion, who serves me. Only then will your deathly fates be concluded. For it is written in the stars of the dead that the living will never triumph over the Neverborn. They will never. "


You see a dark vale, located in a city in creation. This is where he wants you to go.

The Neverborn's concentration fails him. His pale flesh erupts with blood. "COME FACE ME, UNCONQUERED SUN! COME! YOUR END IS HERE!" His face alights with fury, once again fighting ghosts in his dreams.

Lion Roars: Lords Tremble
You knock, and there is no answer. The door is similarly made of soulsteel, but is lighter to allow less strong mortal to make their way in. Tiny wisps of essence steam out from the cracks in the ground.

[Guancyto]

Living In The Sunlight, Loving In The Moonlight

"I think we can handle ourselves," Sil says, appraising Andros slyly before taking a look at her surroundings and letting her large warform recede. She keeps the wings, though.

"Still, only an idiot picks a fight with raksha in their home without a good reason. Make sure you don't give me a reason, Melusine." So saying, she steps through the portal, ready for anything.

[Gargulec]

'Sad' the one whose name used to be Lyanna thought 'sad creature it is'

She saw the city, and for a brief moment thought that the promise was fulfilled. But the darkness came back heartbeat later, and she knew that it was not yet that time.

So to those lords of the dead she swore her allegiance. Curious. She remembered the shock that came with revelation of their existence, with the sacking of Thorns. Curious... or aberrant. She had fallen really low to accept that offer - but she perished that thought as soon as it appeared in her mind. If that was the price, she would pay it gladly.

'And where will I find that place?' she asked softly. 'How will I reach it?'

[DukeGod]

Lion Roars, Lords Tremble

Unfazed by the repeated not quite threats, as to what would happen should he visit the Lover, Requiem just follows, whistling the nightmarish music that followed his oath

[Volthawk]

"Serving the Princess? That was what I intended to do anyway..." He stops speaking once He Who Holds In Thrall returns to his dreams. No point talking to a Neverborn caught up in their dreams.

[Grim ranger]

Lion Roars, Lords Tremble

Somewhat nervous due to the essence creeping outside the room, Visage nevertheless does not back down and pushes the door open, walking inside with Requiem in tow and bowing while at it. His mistress does not suffer tactlessness, after all.

[Turalisj]

Athros too, stepped into the portal. His trio of flaming orbs, invisible to all. He took comfort in the fact that the axiotomic energy powering them was toxic to Raksha.

[Orosboru]

A bored looking sidereal watches Sil, and as soon as the pair of you approach the portal. she immediately springs into action. "LUUUUUNAR!" She shouts as she assumes a martial arts stance, interposing herself between them and the torii gate.

"Quiet, you idiot, she's with me." Melusine bats her hand out of the way, interceding between Sil and the unknown sidereal. "My mistress, we have to pass the inspection here. Wait a moment."

"FAAAAAAE-"
"Oh, would you be quiet? Anyway, as the official representative of the five Rakasha courts, I politely request passage into Yu-Shan."
The sidereal looks confused. "You haven't requested a meeting, Watcher of Moons. You are not authorized to be here."
"You fool! I'm on a important task! Use your stupid astrology and look at my fate! I've dragged it here just for you to look at it, so do it!"
The banter continues. It looks like he has some politicking to do. Of course, one could cut the gordian knot...

[Orosboru]

Lion Roars: Lords Tremble

You open the doors and prepare for the worst.

It's even worse then you thought. There are no dead people to be seen. There are no stains of mysterious origins. There are no spiked chains. This is very, very kinky for the Lover. You shudder at what your eyes are about to behold.

"...and I was so fascinated by your article in last issue of Death. You really did all of that?"
"mm, yes. Those orphans really do give Fae tummy-aches when their dreams are consumed. Mostly from the fake hope, you see."
"Really? What does the Watcher say about real hope?"
"He says that real hope is a aphrodisiac. That's why he likes seducing Lunars, especially haughty ones."
"Lunars? You don't say..."

The Lover is talking to someone. Who, you don't know. Do you dare approach?

[Guancyto]

"Or Yu-Shan," Sil asides to Andros, "apparently we're going to Yu-Shan. Who knew?"

"You there!" she barks, "your lot aren't in the habit of guarding gates, are they? No, that's what they have lions for. You're too busy for that. You're waiting for someone, and it's not us. How inconvenient would it be if they found a bunch of dessicated remains instead?"

[DukeGod]

Lions Roar, Lords Tremble

Having already reached his desired destination, Requiem sees himself in no desire of waiting such conversation to be over. It seemed trivial at best, and he still had several other Deathlords to visit

Entering the room and approaching, he makes himself noticed while looking at both figures, trying to recognize both, but most importantly, find out which one was the Lover, and how powerful the one she was talking too seemed

[Recaiden]

[The Primordial Dream]

How horrible. And he used to be like me... This one shivers, but feels a bit of her broken vitality, nightmare Life in Death, but it still brings strength (that of an empty verse written over and over) return as the Neverborn's attention turns away.
"We will lead you, fellow knight! Mainly him. This is a city in the Yellow Sun's world; shrouded in a dark vale, its towers rise high into the sky, and grey waters (how strange!) run by it. Do you know it, Children of Gaia? The human have raised it since last I paced creation's rims. Or does my cousin open the way from this desolation? Off we go into the twisting yonder...come on!"
The singer sets off, walking quickly towards the distant vision of the city, but frequently turning to look back at the other two.

[Grim ranger]

Lions Roar, Lords Tremble

Seeing that their new guest will likely bother Lover no matter what he will do, Visage decides to go right for damage control, walking forward until he sees Lover and bowing down to one knee. It is very important to maintain certain degree of grovelling in front of this particular deathlord, expecially as he is one of the rare few that are not in 'special' relations with the Lover... Though in his case it is by choice.

"I apologize for intrusion, mistress, but you have a visitor" Visage says as calmly as he can, looking up at the deathlord from his kneeling position, his blank blue eyes betraying nothing. "I agreed to take him to you, least I would have been forced to commit a sin against Death, as well as possibly cause damage to your current residence. In return, he has agreed not to initiate hostilities during his stay here."

[Orosboru]

Lions Roar, Lords Tremble

"...so I've heard that the savant Black Bone-" The Lover stops. "Oh. It's you."
The other woman turns to look at you two. "Interesting. You haven't touched this one?"
"Once."
"Hmm..."

The Lover has a look of consternation on her face. If you didn't know any better, you'd say she has been fighting.

"What is your name, Abyssal? I cannot recall."
The Lover recovers from her fugue. "Yes! I always like new toys."

roll wits+investigation, or wits+social, to gain insight into this situation.


Requiem to the Carp That Shed its Scales notices that the whispers of the Neverborn have become a horrible trail of wailing soul. For one so attuned to their dying dreams, it is beautiful, one of vengeance.


Roll Willpower. And roll high.


[The Primordial Dream]

The dead Primordial stops his mad thrashing, fighting against his dream. His flesh reknits, his torment ended. "Adrian, is that you? No... they killed you. Those mortals killed you! No! This... this..." A single tear drips down from his face.

"THIS CANNOT BE ENDURED NO LONGER."

He steps down from his tree, walking towards Eighth Echo of the Stilled Air. Armor made from wisps of his essence comes together. You realize with solemn horror that he marches towards you. He walks closer and closer...


If anyone wants to wake up, roll Willpower. And roll high. Of course, this is with its own risks...


Living In The Sunlight, Loving In The Moonlight
The Sidereal ignores you, as she is too busy trying to deny entry to Melusine. However, wasting a guard on a gate - especially on calibration - must mean that this exalt was or is in big trouble with Yu-Shan.
"I told you already, you need forms in triplicate and prior recognition by a more senior Vizer-"
"Paper with little ink spots lasts nothing in the Wyld, stupid mortal! Do you think I have time for this? I am on a mission from-

Sil feels it. She met him once, and she thought to never meet him in creation. Ever. Stupid dead bastard.

Melusine feels it. He grows a frown of distaste, his robes going a deep maroon.

The Sidereal feels it. She panics, again. "DEATHLOOOORD-"

"Shut up, you idiot! Fine. Tell Chejop Kejak that you denied a personage on a mission from Saturn, you foolish waste of a exaltation. Tell him how you screwed up again. Look into fate again, you craven, loose-boweled, excuse for a woman.

And she does. Her anima briefly shines, identifying herself as a chosen of journeys for those with enough knowledge to recognize it. Her eyes bulge.

"You are right, Watcher of Moons. As the guardian of this gate, I permit you entry into Yu-Shan. Go with celerity and grace with your guests and brook no combat within under the Authority of-"

"I know the words, already. Let me in! Time is of the essence.

The Sidereal frowns. She turns to Sil. "To note the future, threats are not considered a legal way to enter Yu-Shan." She turns back to Melusine. "You may go in, by the grace of the Maidens."

"Bout time!" He steps forward and looks at you two. "You coming or not? You were pretty fast the last time. What did I say about causing trouble?

[Grim ranger]

Lions Roar, Lords Tremble

Careful to keep his mind analytical and not distracted by the otherworldly beauty of his mistress, Visage studies the situation. Falling for the charms of one he serves now would leave him much more of puppet than what he already is, and most likely craving for oblivion if not oughtright dead. It is best to simply not risk it rather than trusting Lover's goodwill, which is always on short supply. Besides, were he to let his mistress into his mind even for an instant, he would be a dead man. Yes, he has to be very careful indeed.

Rolling Wits + Socialize.

[roll0]

[Volthawk]

"Ah...this isn't good."

Willpower: [roll0]

[Gargulec]

The blinded one did not realize that the dead Titian was approaching for a few moments more, until she can subconsciously sense his approaching presence, wrathful, tormented.

But she did not move, and only the butterfly on the top of her staff took flight, flying high towards the absent heavens. The girl formerly known as Lyanna took a deep breath.

'You can't struggle' she asked softly, tapping her staff to draw his attention. 'Not against your own dream.'

One more butterfly started to circle her, and soon, there was not one, but a huge swarm of them, swirling around her in eerie silence.

'Let us go, return to sleep and dream no more, forget the glory that was you... and we will grant you the release you are longing for, then at last you will find peace!'

Her voice was calm and steady, and while quiet, it resounded with inner strength.

Okay, attempting to sooth a Neverborn via Charisma+Presence+10m spent on first excellency+Temperance channel.
[roll0]

Pools: Motes: Personal: 19, Peripheral: 26 +4 regained from a stunt. WP: 9

[Guancyto]

Living In The Sunlight, Loving In The Moonlight

"Wasn't a threat. I wanted to see if I could get away with killing you," Sil says matter-of-factly, flashing a wide grin. "Not this time, I guess. Lucky you."

The presence of this... deathlord? Is interesting to her. "Watcher," she says as she brushes past the Sidereal, shoulder-checking her on the way past, "the one that holds your Heart. It's a very old ghost, isn't it?"

[DukeGod]

Lion Roars, Lords Tremble

Upon entering the Lover's sight, Requiem did nothing to show subordination. Unlike her servant he didn't knew, he didn't bow. He didn't even do so much as to lower his head

And thats when it hit him. Requiem believed himself already adpated to the voices in his head. Every now and then he would slip control of his own sanity but that was normal too. But now it was something else. The voices pitch went higher and higher. He could make each one out of the other, the Neverborn were moaning and screaming.

While he wrestles to control himself, Requiem falls to the ground, legs bent. Eyes closed. Even that way he could imagine his own Anima being just as uncontrolled. With one of his hands holding forehead he forcefully takes the other to his cheek, plants his nails firmly on it and with a sudden movement rips part of his skin off.

[roll0] - 6 sux
Should I roll that one to gain Insight too?

[Orosboru]

Lion Roars, Lords Tremble
The situation is tense in this room - the Lover has so far been unsuccessful with her efforts to extract information from the other woman. If this was a battlefield, it'd be blasted with insinuations and insults. She is unhappy with you, but it is the same sort of unhappiness that has been in your relationship for some time.

Requiem has buckled over, ripping his flesh. Even you, who has no special attunement to the words of the Netherborn, can hear their whispers from their bodies. The other two look equally interested as to what is happening.

The insane gibberings of ones that should be dead tear through your mind, but you stoically endure it with your will. This has been the greatest swell in their tide that you have remembered. It is a chant of past glory. It is a war cry. It beckons to a age of lost martial might.

And then you see what they see. You see the vision of Valor.

You caught up with the metaplot! Wait for it... wait for it...(also, you succeeded at difficulty 5. good job.

[Grim ranger]

Lion Roars, Lords Tremble

Casting a single look at the trashing Requiem, Visage can well understand his plight but decides to ignore it. His part was merely to lead the other Abyssal to Lover, no more. Besides, he is really not the type to pay heed to the plight of others, if it does not benefit him in some way that is.

Turning his attention back to his deathlord, Visage silently blesses the ebony mask that leaves his face hidden and unreadable. She has always been somewhat unhappy with him, but he is still in full possession of his mind and one of the few Lover has not "sampled" yet, so he considers himself relatively fortunate, diminished resources and rewards from his patron nonwithstanding. Most of those Lover has chosen have begged to share her bed, but Visage has always been silent about the matter, and remains quite an enigma to the rest of the court to the very day.

Of course, he is aware that the deathlord does not quite trust him as a result, and he is granted quite much less leave than Melkin Fool in Red or Prince of Shadows. Nevertheless, he has not been thrown to oblivion as of yet, so he has to be doing something right. Sometimes his controlled and withdrawn nature has even had him skirting dangerously close to outright disobediance, such as skirting the standing order to engage in all possible forms of debauchery by remaining occupied with other tasks at all times.

Bowing his head at the Lover once again, he speaks in his utterly level tone. "Do you require something else of me, mistress, or am I to return to my guard duty?"

[Grim ranger]

(making this post to make my last one show)

[Turalisj]

Andromalius swore several more times under his breath. "I really need a drink after all this is over. I put it at 100-1 odds in favor of us dying some horrible death at some point."

[Guancyto]

"I'm in for ten obols at those odds," Sil flashes Andros the same half-grin. "Come on, you want to live forever?"

[Turalisj]

"I'd prefer to have control over the time and place of my death. Before I die, I have plans for things. Changes to make for the good of everyone. But, that might change very soon if we end up at the end of a Sidereal's fist..."

[Guancyto]

"Oh, us dying a horrible death in Yu-Shan?" Sil says innocently, as though the mistake were completely accidental, "make that one obol, I'm not made of money. Still, you look like a regular guy. If anyone's getting shanked first, it's wings-and-tattoos babe. I expect you to high-tail it out while they're still coming out of the teacups."

[Orosboru]

Finale (part 1)


Her words echo through a abyss that is unfathomable. There is a word for this, spoken at the end of time that pronounces Creation slain, and the clock of ages swing around again. It reaches it, and I say: Rest, Old One. The Time comes again, and the world and stars will be made anew. And then we shall die.

But I cannot forget, little one. I cannot forget the creation which I loved and cherished, the love that was great enough to bind my new form into. I remember the infinite creations of the Wyld like it was yesterday, I remember my end like it was tomorrow. I cannot forget. I was not meant to forget. I was not meant to die.

The dead primordial stands there, and his memory of a shining plate, a brilliant form, a last stand against my traitorous servants. I stood there, grim, lessened, and I was judged as a warrior was. My jouten was shattered, and I could not forget myself. A entire circle of Solars of the First Age stood to shatter my name. And they did.

This is the vision of valour. This is the beauty of mortals. They must know they can die. They are kings, and they know they must die. I cannot do the same. I was perfect, once. I shattered the Dawn's mighty strength. I broke the Zenith will. I outmatched the Twilight ingenuity. In the end days, I hid better the the Night itself. In the end, I was no match for the Eclipse of the Unconquered Sun. The circle stood there, undeterred and mortal. They died, but it was not enough. It was my end, for the stars bid it so that their blood would be the last of my strength.

The Daughter Mercury spoke to me. I was the last to die, and I was the the first to be found. I gave her my name, and then I forgot. But has Adrian died? I was the last to die. I will be so. Tell me, who slays Adrian, for they will die a more final death then I can hope to bear. But your words are true. Our victory is truly inevitable. It is written in the stars above and below that the living will never triumph over me. Us.

"You cannot rest, just yet, revered dead." A woman, her essence overflowing with purple flames. "It is a time of change, and a time of ending. The journey has just begun. I ask of you for a boon."

…

You see the vision of valour. It is a battlefield of a forgotten age, with five brilliant corpses laying shattered on a standing giant. 5 swords stick out of his chest, but he still stands. A blue woman dashes towards him, and surveys around.

"Speak your words, traitor, for I have none for you." the Primordial spat.
"I have no hatred of you, Primordial. I come with a deal."
"Deal? I will never betray my king. Slay me, and be done with it."
"Slay you? No. I have something to tell you, great one."
"Great?" The Primordial laughs a sonorous laugh. "I am no such thing. Tell me, what is your deal."
"My sisters and I have seen that if you are slain in the field of battle, Malfeas's greatest general, the others will not stop fighting. And they will win."
"Faugh!" The primordial spits on the ground. "That is a boon you have given me, future daughter. If my death wins victory, then so be it."
"But who dares win?" The woman blazed with blue aura, her essence crackling. "I am Mercury, Primordial. They will win, but at a terrible cost. Once they are victors, there will be nothing left of of the world, and they too will disappear. There will be nothing left - a kingdom of dust and ash."
"What you say disheartens me. Then why here?" The primordial looks at her. "Are you to your true loyalties at last?"
"No… I have seen them, Primordial. I have seen the humans fight and live and love and die. I have seen the infinite patterns of the journey, the path they all cleave to. And I see that no matter what, they face their journey until they can run no more."
"So you say. And you say that I, too, must have a journey?"
"You must fall on your own sword, Primordial. If I let my servants kill you, then the others will know that the gods have no mercy. They will fight until Ceation is no more. If you commit suicide, they will despair. They will say: "… (You can't hear what she's saying.) is our greatest general, a master of battle. If he falls to ruin, how can we go on? We have foreseen that Cecylene will surrender to us, and with all the others if you do this."
"What you say is madness." The primordial cried ears of green rain. "But I love our Creation as much as you, daughter. I will do as you ask. I give my name to you, and I hope that in your lessened ages you find peace."

And with that, he drew his own name - one that destroyed fortresses, and the ruin of armies - and slew himself. His death cry was silent, as he died standing, staring into the eyes of Mercury. His name disappeared into a gaping maw, which quickly disappeared.

Mercury stood for a moment, and then she held his body, and she began to cry. "…I loved you, mother. I loved you so much."

…

The Carp awakens from his fugue, and his mind is sharp. This whisper was… much more forgiving then the others.

The Lover starts to speak to her servant, but there is a massive howl from Oblivion that is heard throughout the underworld. And then it speaks:

'You can't struggle. Not against your own dream. Let us go, return to sleep and dream no more, forget the glory that was you, and we will grant you the release you are longing for, then at last you will find peace!'

And then it stops.

"You heard that, The Dowager of the Irreverent Vulgate in Unrent Veils?" The Lover stands up, concerned.
"I heard it too, The Lover Clad in the Raiment of Tears. I have seen it in the Well of Udr." The Dowager also stands. "There is no need for a meeting. It is obvious. Whatever the Lion has planned, it is in motion. And we cannot do naught but watch."
"Perhaps not." The Lover moves over to the Carp. "You have seen something. Tell me what you saw. Oh, and stay, guard. I still have use of you."


…

The Fae has ignored your inquiry, as he was waiting for something too. Despite inviting you in to Yu-Shan, he hasn't actually let you pass. You've struck up a conversation, and he has too - flirting with the Sidereal.

The sidereal stops muttering and gasping as she looks to west. "…massive amounts of deathlord essence is arising!" A huge shadowland was being created in the forests, slaying the trees and keeping back the wyld.
"Nothing to worry about, my pretty Vizer." Melusine gives her a slap on the bottom. She squeals.
"I'm afraid, mistress, that we have to wait here a little longer. My lady's fifteen megaoprahs on the drama queen scale, and she likes to take her time. And don't worry about death by the Wyld Hunt. It's Calibration Night, a time of beginning and a time of ending!" He cheers. He looks towards Sil, and back to the rapidly developing shadowland. "I'll answer all your questions soon enough."

[Recaiden]

Echo turns and kneels on the ground before the Neverborn.
"Lilike died, Great One. Marus broke me, but we yet live as Adorjan, the Silent Wind."
She looks down at the ground. She had died in battle, here and long ago, in his name. The shame and sorrow, on forever.
"You...saved me." She never knew, as any self.
"You know our love for the world as well. But your sacrifice...we cannot forget you. We will set you free. This wasn't meant to be, but...we can. We will. We'll make the world fit your memory. And when you can rest we will go on. Let what you have done for us be enough. Rest, brother. Please. You've done so much..."
A tear falls, and then another. Echo does not mean to move until the fallen one bids her go or the dream ends.

[Guancyto]

Sil spares a glance for the fae, beginning to understand the purpose of this expedition, but looks askance at the Sidereal. Eh, the shadowland can take care of itself. It's not her problem. But...

"Hey, is it just me, or are you just about the worst Vizier ever?" She leans on the Sidereal's shoulder casually, like she's been there all along. "Hey James, I'm not just imagining this, right? She should have been up to warn the boys upstairs about what's incoming, like, yesterday? You know, instead of letting Watcher of Moons, nice name by the way, get her standing around doing nothing?"

[DukeGod]

Lion Roar, Lords Tremble

It takes a while for Requiem to notice that he is back in the Lover's place. Longer to realize what he had just done. Without standing or noticing the Deathlord in front of him, he begins to laugh. It starts with a giggle but soon evolves into downright maniacal cacklinG

He was mad. There was no mistaking that. But it was his own madness. The whispers, the screams. They could not have broke his mind even more. He sees the Lover in front of him and indulges into something his mind tells him he should

Suddenly moving his arm forward, he grabs the Deathlord by her hair and with a sudden movement gets closer and kisses her. In the middle of it, Requiem bites her lips letting a tiny stream of blood, one that he slowly licks and proceeds to kiss her once more. Once done, he stands, and if she's still close to he ground offers a hand to get the Lover back on her feet. He looks around, still smiling

"The voices...stopped. For now at least. I stand victorious...I am me again! Very well...

He walks around the room a bit. Holding even more cackling

"I am Daemon Lichttrager! Former king of Aretevelio. Now Requiem to the Carp That Shed Its Scales. Very well Deathladys. I will tell you my story. The dreams of the dead gods!"

His name spoken, he feels the eruption of his crime flowing from him

"But first. I want you to tell me what you dreamed!

I'm going crazy =D
Building Resonance and trying to vent it right on the same moment! It's not weaponized, I just thought it looked cool!
Essence roll to Resonance [roll0]
Essnce roll to vent Resonance [roll1]
I'm venting on Branding, so the whole place is getting ghostlier =D

[Gargulec]

The one that was known as Lyanna saw, though she knew that she should not.

She saw destruction of the war at the dawn of Time.

She saw death that was not death, a Titian bringing itself low, and yet falling to truly fall.

She saw a goddess mourn.

It all felt important, and as she observed it, she could feel something deep inside her stir, move, change... open.

And then darkness was back, her good companion, and she welcomed it. She listened closely to the words of the strange women who claimed to be a Titian - or a part of it anyway - and considered her words.

'It is queer' she spoke after her 'that a day ago, all I wanted was to die in peace, and pass away so that my soul can find a better host... but someone made me deny myself such fate. Made me linger, so that I can find light again, see again.'

She tapped her cane once at the nothingness, before erupting in a quiet, yet harsh laughter.

'I thank you, fallen one, for making me see again, and understand for the first time. Oh, wonderful lie that was, I admit! "Serve, and you shall see, serve, and you shall be rewarded". Tempting, yes. But hollow, ultimately hollow, for there will be no reward from me but ash and bleakness of Creation that is no more, undone by my very hands. As you plunged yourself on your sword, so will I have to, and all I wanted to be and create will be forgotten, for there will be only oblivion remaining.'

With one swift motion, she tore her blindfold down, allowing you all to see empty sockets were her eyes used to be, now filled only with darkness.

'I will be deceived no more' she sneered. 'I need no eyes to see, as you have shown me, and so I need not the reward of the one who lied to me. Thank you, Fallen One' she repeated 'for making me see again. You will pass away, finally, I'll find you a way, I promise, in return for that. I swear.'

She laughed again, this time softly.

'And yet know, that I refuse your vision. And I dream of you no more.'

And with those words on her lips, and a fresh spark of defiant anger on those that lied to her, she forced her will to break the dream, to find way to what was real and present. To the darkness she had to accept for now, and for evermore.


WP roll to wake up and tear down the connection between me and the Neverborn, so that he does not taint my clarity with his Whiseprs.
[roll0]

[Turalisj]

Sil spares a glance for the fae, beginning to understand the purpose of this expedition, but looks askance at the Sidereal. Eh, the shadowland can take care of itself. It's not her problem. But...

"Hey, is it just me, or are you just about the worst Vizier ever?" She leans on the Sidereal's shoulder casually, like she's been there all along. "Hey James, I'm not just imagining this, right? She should have been up to warn the boys upstairs about what's incoming, like, yesterday? You know, instead of letting Watcher of Moons, nice name by the way, get her standing around doing nothing?"

"Eh, I dunno Sil. I was actually thinking about inviting you three out for a drink. I know this GREAT place down in Nexus, a few blocks away from the Immaculate Temple." Andros said, giving them both a smile.

[Volthawk]

Savant sighs after the rant is finished. "Oh. Drama."

[Guancyto]

"Oh, I don't know. How about just the three of us? I mean, she's really cute and all, and any other day I'd be all about that, but I just couldn't enjoy a drink knowing that she's puttering about being useless while she's supposed to be doing important things. In fact...

Maybe..." she twirls behind the Vizier, sliding her arms affectionately around her waist.

"...she should..." she grips hard and gives another twirl, spinning the Sidereal toward the gate.

"...get to it!" she lets go at just the right angle, aiming to toss her straight at Yu-Shan.

Clinch, followed by throw, supplemented by 5m from my Dex excellency. [roll0]

[Turalisj]

Andromalius sighed, shaking his head. The voice in the back of his head had been strangely quiet... He chalked it up to the fact that they were near one of the gates to Heaven.

"See, it's things like that which get us in trouble. So, how about that drink m'lady?" He said with a grin.

[Orosboru]

Finale, Part 2

With glowing essence gleaming, you pick up the woman who stared at the growing shadowland. Her waist is slender, and curiously yielding. Her face flushes as she stares into your eyes. And then you do it.
The young sidereal is thrown screaming, her hair going loose as she disappears into the gate of Yu-Shan. Obviously, she was not expecting that. Or that she did, and you were too fast. Odd. You never known the Sidereals to be stupid. Just foolish.

The gate, as soon as she passes in, also glows with essence. It has identified you all as diplomats. It glows once more before a wave of essence washes over the three.

You all appear before a massive gate, and behind you is the gate you just came from. The Chosen of Journeys lies on her back, crying a little.

"Mistress, that was less well advised. We must-"

"WARNING." The gate rumbles. "FAIR FOLK AMBASSADOR PARTY MEMBERS NUMBERS FOUR OR GREATER. INITIATE REALM INFORMATION CENTRES. ACTIVATING REALM DEFENCES. ALERTING THE CELESTIAL LION PERPETRATOR REACTION FORCE. ASCESS TO AND FROM YU-SHAN IS RESTRICTED. DO NOT PANIC. THIS IS NOT A DRILL."

"Oh no oh no no no." You hear the sidereal mumble. "It's all my fault again…"

"…multiples of three is the number for supplication. multiples of four is the number of death, number of war. There is always a hidden meaning with us, my Mistress." Melusine shrugs. "Well, you wanted to bet on dying. Now here's your chance!"

"FAIR FOLK WAR PARTY, SUBMIT TO THE AUTHORITY OF HEAVEN. IF YOU MOVE, ACT, OR OTHERWISE DEFY OUR WILL, YOUR LIVES AND YOUR HEARTS ARE FORFEIT."

A circle of Sidereals emerges, and they raise their starmetal weapons. The Chosen of Mars says: "Watcher of Moons! Why do you bring a war party on Calibration Feast? You violate the sacrament, and you void any protection that your diplomatic status gives you."

(before you post, roll lore+intelligence.)

…

Blackbird awakes where she lies, and wonders if it was real at all. The whispers are muted, but they are not gone. You have a sinking feeling they will never go away.

"WHAT BOON YOU ASK, ACCURSED TRAITOR? I AM NOT SO PARTIAL AS TO YOU." The Neverborn stops before Echo, staring at the strange woman.
"The time has come, dead one. Another of your former number must die."
"CURSE YOU, FILTHY WHORE! YOU WOULD BREAK A PROMISE TO THE DEAD?" The Netherborn gains in fury and might. You all can hear his dead brothers and sisters howling in agreement.
"Your agreement with Mercury is at a end. In the fates of Creation, dictated by heaven, primordials may join your ranks once again."
"YOU WOULD SLAY THE IMPRISONED! YOU SLUT! YOU BITCH!" He raves. "I WILL NEVER GIVE THIS BOON TO YOU." He is in his old, ghostly form, one of martial valour and might. For a second, you can believe that this is the first age again, and he fights once more.
"I swore oaths to the living, not the dead, Neverborn." She raises her palm. "I command you to relinquish your promise." A outpouring of her essence, the motes of ending, come out as her greater sign.

A great howl of fury comes from He Who Holds in Thrall. "I… FORSWEAR THE OATH OF JOURNEYS, AND I VOW NEVER TO HOLD IT IN MY HEART. A THOUSAND CURSES, SATURN!"
"It is time again. I have foreseen your end, for It will never come, for I have seen it. You will rule your kingdom of ash and dust until you grow so wizened and impotent that you cannot die."
"RAA-GH!" The Neverborn strides up, and a ghostly blade of Oblivion forms from nothing. He slices a perfect strike once, twice, and three times, but three times Saturn dodges.
"You can't hurt me, Neverborn. It is futile." Saturn regains her composure. "I will take leave of you. You cannot defy fate."
"YOUR FATE OF FLAWS SHALL BE THE END OF YOU. SEE THE END OF YOURSELF." A final strike impales her directly in the chest. It is a hard thing to see, the wounding of a god. "GO, FLEE WITH MY HATE, MY HATE OF ALL CREATION."

Saturn staggers off, wounded - but how much? She disappears from the dream.
He Who Holds In Thrall collapses on the floor, his armour disappearing, his weapon gone. He is a old man again, broken and once again, he slips off to sleep his sleep of the dead.

"Go, little Adrian." He must not of heard you, or he must be delusional. "Go flee from the little bitch. You must not die. Bone of the Black, you are a faithful servant. Seek out your fellows, and do your lord's bidding. I say no more." He goes to sleep. Light is shining from above, and darkness below. This dream is ending.

…

Any explanation by your part is halted by the appearance of a purple woman, her anima flaring, with a great wound to her chest. She falls over, her essence flows rapidly falling. The Sidereals gasp, even the stupid one at your feet, and they rush over to see her condition.

Andromalius feels the rage of his patron. But not at him. Something is wrong. Terribly wrong in Malfeas.

"I... always hated you, father."
And then she stops speaking.
(roll int+lore to ascertain her identity.)

"Well, she certainly took her time." Melusine whispers into Andromalius's ear.

…
A ghostly rush fills the room, turning the pleasure of the harem to the grimness of the grave. You cackle. It's a indulgence. The resonance comes and goes, the anger of your patron vented as quickly as it came.

"This is a mad one. You like mad ones, right?" The Dowager comments shrewdly. Or shrewdly.
Her blood was not blood. It tastes of death essence, and it tastes bitter to the taste of your mouth.
"I prefer them unbroken before I'm done with them." The Lover rubs her lips. "Useless guard. Go into creation and find out what happened. I'm leaving to my demesne. Tell that idiot that unless he finds out what he saw, I'm throwing him into oblivion."
The Lover storms out.
"I guess that she didn't have much patience for you two." The Dowager grins. "She was more a bedder then a wetter. I'm afraid that if you wanted the pleasure of her company, you went the wrong way today. I saw nothing, little deathknight. What did you see?"

[DukeGod]

"Pleasure of her company. No. I merely seeked to act on my own free will. Too sad she's gone. There was information I wanted to share. Yet, I believe, I can share them with you too"

Requiem sits in the bed, crossing legs at the ankle. He stands like that, his back turned to The Dowager, and then slips into actually lying. He liked how the sheets felt.

"I saw the memories of a Neverborn. When the Primordials still fought. His death was not done by the Chosen. He killed himself. The Primordials would've won if not for that, but Creation would have died, and thus so would they"

He stops thinking for a second. He knew that the words he just said could change everything

"Does that mean. That the Neverborn might still care for Creation? But enough of stories of mad men. I heard your discussion, the Lion made his move. The dead are talking about it too. Tell me, Deathlady. What do you know of that? I will tell you what I have gathered then

[Guancyto]

"Hi! There's a shadowland forming outside Gate 21, a Deathlord is on the way there, it seems like, and I decided to give this little one," she hauls the Journeys to her feet, and then smacks her across the back of the head. She's part of the 'War Party,' it stands to reason to Sil that she can do whatever she likes to her right now without forfeiting their submission, "a bit of a push to go inform you since she's supposed to do that, and I guess she still hasn't. You guys are really scraping the bottom of the barrel these days, you know? Oh, um, and I guess your head honcho is bleeding out on the floor? You might want to do something about that."

Sil tilts her head to one side and looks at the woman quizzically, examining her with a critical eye. "Does that about cover it, or am I missing anything?" She looks to Watcher, to Andros, to each of the Sidereals in turn.

[Recaiden]

As the dream begins to free, this one is left with a new set of feelings. Scorn. Rage. Hatred. Killing her family is one thing, terrible, but comprehensible with an old part of her soul. Treachery against them is another, unforgivable whatever she might recall from the past.
"Rest in peace, brother. I will tear down the stars for you."
She rises to her feet and turns in one motion. "On the other side, Black Bone." Then she turns and runs up and away, into the light, racing forever, to wakefulness.

[Turalisj]

"Hi! There's a shadowland forming outside Gate 21, a Deathlord is on the way there, it seems like, and I decided to give this little one," she hauls the Journeys to her feet, and then smacks her across the back of the head. She's part of the 'War Party,' it stands to reason to Sil that she can do whatever she likes to her right now without forfeiting their submission, "a bit of a push to go inform you since she's supposed to do that, and I guess she still hasn't. You guys are really scraping the bottom of the barrel these days, you know? Oh, um, and I guess your head honcho is bleeding out on the floor? You might want to do something about that."

Sil tilts her head to one side and looks at the woman quizzically, examining her with a critical eye. "Does that about cover it, or am I missing anything?" She looks to Watcher, to Andros, to each of the Sidereals in turn.

"Yea, that'd be the Maiden of Endings bleeding out on the floor. And you just committed a holy crime. Me? I'm not with you. I don't know you." Andromalius said, his cool demeanor gone. "I'm going to go grab that drink down in Nexus."

He turned to the sidereals, "Anyone got a ride I could borrow?"

[Guancyto]

"Huh, so nothing in that bags of tricks of yours to keep her ticking? Yeah, that's cool," Sil gives Andros a wave. "I did save your tail back there, but that's no reason to stick around. Have fun!"

Meanwhile, she takes a closer look at the dying Maiden of Endings. "Huh. Saturn, is it? Thought you'd be taller."

[Orosboru]

Finale, Part 3

Instantly, the five Sidereals assume a martial stance, their blades interposing between you and the fallen Maiden. The incompetent chosen of journeys tearfully raises a blade. "…you can't! You just…" They are all shocked at your bluntness. Worse, it is true.

"Her form is lessened, Lunar, because she has suffered a terrible wound. Did you do this?" The Chosen of Endings speaks up. He is old, and scarred. He looks old enough to be from the First Age. A tear goes down his face. "Not even in the primordial war did she suffer these wounds."

The Sidereals form up, and they look ready to join battle… until Melusine interrupts. "You didn't see this in fate, did you?" They give him a confused and outraged look. "Perfect. Look, I don't have time to explain. Let me through to her, and she will live."

The circle looks hesitant. "I can't make her more dead, can I? Give me a chance."
They cautiously let him though, and he touches Saturn's face. "Her heart's practically destroyed." The Chosen of Ending's anima flares, and he looks worried. "Oh, please don't die, my mistress. Please."

The Watcher of Moons frowns. "Don't give me that. I can still save her. Just watch."
And Melusine begins to sing. His motes sing along with him, and a halo of moons surround him.

Oh lost Incarnae, you've lost
one thing you wanted least
but now it's gone, and the cost
shall be felt, west to east.

I weave, and by the Cup
I bring compassion to you first
We've all dine together, and sup
in the good times, before the worst

I weave, and by Ring
I bring temperance to you second
We'll see the sights, and everything
all the things we do be legend

I weave, and by the Staff
I bring conviction to you third
We'll dance and sing, and have a laugh
falling down to craft pretty words

I weave, and by the Sword
I bring valor to you fourth
We'll fight together with Creation's lords
in all the directions, south to north.

I weave, and by the Heart
and the Sword, Staff, Ring, and Cup
I return you to the living, the veil part
Peace! the charm's wound up.

A swirl of memory, a act of creation unseen for many centuries. This was not of this age. It was of a time where power was more triumphant, when creation was whole. Not now. His anima swells, and you can see into the primordial Wyld - only a memory to you, but real to him as yesterday. His essence flares higher, and a anima banner that reveals flashes of moonlight and starlight. He could be more, you realize. But never more.

Above him, a pulsing, beating, heart glows with essence. Enough essence to destroy all of Yu-Shan. But it is not intended for destruction. It is a transplant. It attunes to Saturn, briefly glowing purple before descending into her chest. She breathes once again. A sigh of relief comes from all of the Sidereal in attendance. She is no longer in danger.

And then the Incarnae show up. The Unconquered Sun, a blazing sword to defend the fallen. The four sisters, ready to destroy one who would incomplete their circle. Luna, who is no longer fretful, but smiling.

"WHO DARES?" The Unconquered Sun shouts. He spots Melusine, crumpled over from his ordeal. "A FAIR FOLK? HERE?" He raises his sword.

"Peace, Sol Invictus." Luna strides over. "He's mine. I have his heart."

The Maidens pick up their fallen, and they leave. The Unconquered Sun, disappointed at not having a fight, leaves quickly. The Sidereals leave, but not before saying: "You may leave at the soonest opportunity. If you so desire, you will find transport." The Chosen of Endings says. "Also… thank you." He leaves.

Luna stays, however, she walks over to the crumpled body of Melusine. Then she looks at you. "Oh. I remember you. But not you. How has your day been so far?"

"I... don't feel well, Luna." Melusine says on the ground.

…

Echo wakes up, with conviction burning in her heart.

…

"The Lion roars, little knight. He has not done that for a long time. I wonder if he has mustered the strength to crown himself king. Well, I wonder no more." The Dowager parts her veil to look at you. "I've heard that he's solved his woes for steel and blood… I wonder where? Mayhaps I know."

She frowns at the first statement. "I know nothing of primordials. What I do know is that the Neverborn hate creation like none other. You may ask your own master, if you wish to know."

[Grim ranger]

Watching as the mad deathknight does something very ill-adviced, Visage is sure that he will see a swift kill made for such display of arrogance, but the killing blow he expects Lover to give never comes. Instead, his patron seems just quite infuriated, but also somewhat concerned. He feels the resonance rise within his chest before dying down again, Lover giving out her orders and then storming out of the chamber. Well, isn't this just very curious.

Raising up from his kneeling position, Visage relaxes visibly now that his patron has left, small cloud of cold mist forming before his face as he sighs. The tale told by Requiem is curious, true, but currently he is much more interested in the words of the Dowager. If what she says is true, there might be a deathlord much more worthy of his service arising somewhere else... And he has just been given a chance to defect to said deathlord on a silver platter.

Channeling some of his necrotic essence to the mask always covering his face, Visage suddenly shifts and blurs, his clothing and face taking on completely new appereance... That of his fellow deathknight, Prince of Shadows. While not the strongest or the smartest, Visage has always been the most adaptable of Lover's deathknights, and seemingly one of most loyal, despite her distrust in him. But now, his new face looks somewhat irritated.

"Thank you for the information, Dowager" he says smoothly and bows down, the long black hair of his new form cascading over his face to hide a devious smirk that vanishes on the instant he rights himself. "It seems I will have work to do. We will see how useless I am... Yes, we will see indeed. For now, I believe I will be travelling with you", he says nonchlantly to Requiem, dusting his new cloak and looking somewhat bored. "But a mission is a mission, even if I will hardly get much gratitude or gratification out of it."

Shifting his form again in blink of an eye, Visage turns to an exact duplicate of Requiem, only the bow and arrows on his back separating him from the real one. "And that should be very interesting, no?" he cackles in the voice of Requiem before shifting back to his own, emotionless form. "I do believe you are very lucky to be alive after your little stunt, so you should not squander the opportunity to find out about your vision. I have noticed that she does not joke often about throwing into oblivion... The threat of that might actually be very real."

Committing peripheral 5 motes to Mask to utilize it's shapeshifting function.

[Guancyto]

"Kind of a trip, honestly," Sil says as though she hadn't just witnessed four (or eight) Creation-shaking wonders in succession. "First I wake up the same way you found me way back when, then it just gets weirder from there and still nobody cares about that Deathlord! Guess I should've just made time with the Ten Stripes of Sidereals instead.

Huh. You know, I named him Melusine for the greatest traitor in their history, but I guess their best guardian of shaped Creation works too. Anyway, you called me here for something, right? That was really interesting, but I'm hoping it wasn't just so I could watch."

[Volthawk]

Black Bone stays where he is, and then speaks. "Thank you, sir. I will serve her as well as I possibly can, that is one thing for sure." He then waits for the dream to break around him.

[Orosboru]

Finale

Black Bone Savant wakes with the dream breaking, a new mission to serve. Another master to swear loyalty. Another day.
…

"More then that, little one." Luna smiles. "Sometimes even the greatest of gods are immortally wounded. I haven't heard that charm for a long time. It was good that you came so willingly."

"I… am dying. Am I dying?" Melusine coughs.
"No, little wyld one. You are not dying." Luna touches his head. "You are changing, and that is something I know very well."

She grabs a pattern spider from her pocket. It starts singing.

"Never gonna give you up, never going to let you down…"
Luna puts it away, and looks at you hungrily. "Cute."
She reverts to a more small, humanoid form. "Oh little watcher, you stare at me, not knowing what do do." She touches his face, and a small chip falls off. "You will not disappear so soon. You are a survivor." She knocks his face again. "I like survivors."

A naked human falls out of the calcified shell. "Take care of the new little one, my precious Lunar. Maybe in the future he'll change… and I'll be waiting. Go, look in creation and find what being created such a wound to the world. And above all else, adapt. Have no master, and be no slave. Be free."

Luna stands to leave. "Is there anything else left to do?"

…

The Dowager appraises you one more time, and satisfied with her results, leaves.
The room is still filled with that ghostly essence. You stand alone with the other.

…

The Lover pauses in the middle of her flight. She holds a small picture. "…nothing works. I've tried everything…"
…

"-and he's coming back?" A great voice of a Yozi proclaims.
"Yes. He's coming back." Another says.
"Perfect."

…
The Princess hides in her chambers, shuddering, both from the calamity of her social gambit, and the rage of her Neverborn Master. She cries small, black tears, both in her shame and fear.

"IT IS TIME, VASSEL. GO FORTH AND DO MY BIDDING." The First and Forsaken Lion stands at the door.
"…as you will." There was always a way out of it. Always. She leaves, her tears sucking in what little light was left.

And the Lion was alone again. He watched. He waited. He knew. And he smiled once more.


The Prologue is over. You are allowed to elaborate where your character wakes up from the dream, and you can give a little insight into your motivations. Others in more complicated situations, feel free to talk and finish up the beginning. Otherwise, I'm taking a more backseat role. Once there are enough people willing to start the story, I'll post the first scene.

[DukeGod]

The Dowager had already left. Requiem ignores Visage for now. He was quite surprised at his shapeshifting

"The madness..is comi...ng back

Requiem slouches on the bed. Eyes closed. The essence around the room made the whole thing somewhat less confortable

"Were you there? When the Primordials surrendered? I wonder how it was. In....my own dreaaaams...Ask...I have no mas...ter"

Standing, he looks at Visage. A companion. Seemed good

"Very well. I will...summon my other...one

He hoped Thingy was nearby. Sending his thoughts, he knew that if he was withing range he would have listened to them. He doubted he could get into the palace, but that was planning too far ahead

"We have other Deathlords to visit. Let's go then. We will have to cross the Underworld! Ride seeeeveral leagues...with each step"

[Grim ranger]

Shaking his hooded and masked head, Visage regard the quite apparently insane deathknight carefully. "No, travelling through courts of every deathlord would be a waste of time and effort. We already know who is most likely to be person to ask about the situation from: First and the Forsaken Lion, or his vassal Princess Magnificent. Personally, I tend to utilize logic when seeking for answers."

Making a small gesture with his hand and storing his bow Elsewhere for the time being, Visage begins to walk out of the chamber, speaking over his shoulder. "Do you happen to have some kind of transportation? I do believe that walking to the Thousand might take quite some time...And that seems to be of essence currently."

Spending 1 personal mote to activate Banished Bow Arsenal, thus storing Visage's powerbow Elsewhere until he calls it out again.

Personal Essence: 17/18
Peripheral Essence: 28/39 (11 motes committed to artifacts)
Willpower: 9/9

[Gargulec]

Water dripped on her face, her robe was drenched by now and she felt weak, as if she was in a place she did not belong to. So, she concurred, she was back in what was real. Remembering where she laid it down, she reached for her cane, and supporting herself on the sturdy wooden stick, raised off the moss she was sleeping on.

'I don't need this' she whispered to herself, ripping a red silk blindfold from her face. For a moment, she wanted to throw it away, but decided to keep it instead, coiled around her wrist. Mumbling something, she felt the ground beneath her, looking for the rest of her humble possessions, namely an old, battered straw hat. She found it, finally, and put it on. The sun's heat was merciless lately.

There was a road nearby, she remembered, a thin trail leading in the general direction of the heart of Hundred Kingdoms region, but she had no doubts that whatever awaited her now would find her even if she was to take road to Gem right now. So not paying it much attention, she started to walk down it.

She still was not sure if her reaction was right one, if what she was starting to believe now was true... but should it prove to so, she knew what she had to do.

[DukeGod]

"The Lion has decided to marry the Princess Magnificent. She asked a lot in return. An ar...my, weapons, manses. Among other things. Mooost importantly, The Lion's stored Exaltations. He accepted. I believe she has already Exal..ted those four of her choice"

He walks to leave the room. Opening the door, he wonders if Thingy could reach the balcony

"I have a simhata. He can carry both of us I believe. Now, I know everything I need to know about the Lion and his moves. Thus...we seek...the other Deathlo...rds. What they knooow

[Guancyto]

"Huh," Sil peers at the fae-turned-something-not-fae. Humanity seemed a little bit out of the question. "You know I'm better at taking care of things in the sense of tearing them apart, right? This... I'll adapt, sure, but there's going to be a price."

She takes a step forward to Luna, her hips swaying. Two. Three. A grin across her face. Yeah, she can manage this. "I didn't get the chance last time we met. In exchange for taking care of your pet... a kiss from my very favorite goddess."

[Grim ranger]

Merely nodding, Visage follows Requiem, apparently content with the current plan. "Very well then... It should be faster than simply walking through the Underworld, though we might have to search through Creation as well. Are you prepared for that?"

[DukeGod]

"Sure I guess. Can we go through the main entrance? It probably would make Thingy's life...easier

He follows after Visage. Once in the entrance he remenbered there wero other means to guide his Familiar to him

[Grim ranger]

"Of course. Follow me" he replies, walking towards the main entrance without particular rush, his black cloak falling around him and obscuring the rest of his body from view. When being as enigmatic as he, it was wise to pick wardrobe fitting that kind of mentality as well.

So yeah, I did not describe more because it is unsure whenever or not we will face any delays, further encounters or even resistance.

[Orosboru]

End of the Beginning
"Oh... you are very naughty. But if that is your wish." Luna bends over and looks squarely in the eye. "I'm no slouch, you know. Do not demand a price when it would be freely given." And then she gives you a kiss. With tongue.
And then she puts you down. She has changed... from matron to warrior. "It is a time for change. It is a time for war. Go out, and do your duty, my Stewart of Creation. Go with your allies and seek out devastation. For all things change. And I am long overdue." Luna disappears in a flash of sliver essence. A box, wrapped in lace and string, plops on the floor.

The two abyssals leave the pointless palace, of which pointless diplomacy and conniving words once made there way. They go to the Thousand, home of the Lion. Home of the Legion. He moves once again, in ways that the others do not understand. And they fear what they don't understand.


And... you're done. At least, for the prologue. It's Guancyto's and Turalsj's time to wrap up. I'm writing the beginning scene as we speak.

[Guancyto]

Sil grins wider, face reddened, feeling invigorated. Of course it would be freely given, but better to have demanded and been acquiesced to. She has to steady herself against something as Luna disappears. After she's gotten back the strength in her knees, she hauls both the newly-metamorphosed Melusine to his feet and picks up the giftbox left behind.

"So James, I think you owe me a hundred obols, and there's a war about to be on. You coming with me, or are you still going to go get that drink?"

[Recaiden]

[Awake]

Adrian, Eighth Echo of Stilled Air, wakes with a start. Opening her eyes, the yellow sun through the trees, the strange taste of the air, the lack of an insectoid abomination unto nature upon her face, these add up to a moment of panic before she remembers what is real.
The new Abyssal climbs out of the stand of scrub plants where she had paused to rest. She really needs to get a proper coffin.
"Torika! Time to go." Of course, the moth is still here; it never left, and flutters out after its mistress.
They have been on the road since the summoning, when she picked an 'arbitrary' direction that just so happened to head south to Greyfalls.

But curiosity often draws them astray. To end the suffering of the Neverborn is not her only concern, after all.
Her first lessons were more incidental than purposeful.

"There is nothing you have that cannot be taken away."
If people happen to learn that as she steals what she needs from them, great, but back then, she didn't particularly care.
Later ones are now intentional. Mortals needed even more enlightening than demons.

"Life is often a cruel, insidious burden. Be free of it."
At the start of the evening, just another street performer. A few coins tossed (and so it would normally be, a way to get by with less harm), but then, people started to notice the song was exceptional, the dance captivating, the performer brilliant. A vast crowd gathered, watching in awestruck silence, moved to tears by the song of sacrifice. It was scarcely noticeable when dark winds came and bound them, and the high notes began to cut like knives.
The few survivors spoke first of the horror of the scene, but they always remembered the smiling faces of the dead and the beauty of the performance.

"There is only one way, and it is forward. Is that how it goes, Torika?"
An instant of violence, and everything goes dark. For them. "You don't need your eyes. Forget them; move on."

"Within Pandemonium, peace."
She can only let her life and wake serve as example.

And there's a lot of learning to be done.
"What's dawn? Why are there dark patches going along beside you? Doesn't the quiet bother you? What are those little green things on the ground? How come we don't melt in the rain? So, do you know of a city that...? Oh dear Malfeas what's wrong with the sky!? Do you know the way to Yu-Shan perhaps?" The questions go on forever, to lone victims from whom blood is taken, to passersby on the road, to shopkeepers and those who are especially generous to a poor wandering artist, to no one in particular at times. She's lucky when they understand her words enough to replay "What?" or "I don't know."

And once in a while, one has to stop and run through a field, or dance an ancient, half-remembered dance, just because.

[Gargulec]

The road seemed to stretch out forever, there was no journey's end to be found... and the one formerly known as Lyanna did not mind. There was something deeply enlightening in the long voyage in the darkness, with nothing and no one to keep company and only own thoughts to consider. It was good for her, though sometimes she regretted that she has no one at her side, no one to show her a path so that she does not stumble. Both physically and metaphorically.

Of course, from time to time, she stumbled upon other travellers, hearing them before they noticed her. When that happened, she lowered her head - so that the hat could conceal her eyes - and asked them softly for some food and water for the poor women. The wise and kind did hesitate, sharing their rice and stories with her, and she in turn left them with a story on her own, of a mighty king that died on his own sword so that his kingdom might be saved, or a hauntingly beautiful song of a fair maiden with yellow eyes and how she fought a tyrant only to find that she loved him more than anything. And those that were petty and cruel and did not help received a song, too. And they could not resist listening to it, and they could not run even when they looked into pools of darkness that were the singer's eyes, even when she ripped their blood for them, even then, they could not run, not resist, not move. But it was their own fault.

Soon, the story of a blind traveller asking for a meal in exchange for a song reached many in the region, along with the stories of the grim fates of those who were to greedy to treat that spectral women kindly.

One day, she heard a story from one of the kind ones, about another marvellous singer... but a one whose song was death. The boy told that he had seen her, and listened to her song and was one of the few who survived to tell about it. It piqued her interest, though she could not explain why. So she asked and asked and asked about her, until their paths parted, and she set out to find the mysterious, yet somehow familiar deadly singer.

[Orosboru]

Entropy

They've tried everything. From prayers, installation of temples dedicated to new gods of life and happiness, more dragonblooded officers (coincidentally solving the manpower problem), and festivals all the time. The only thing that's done is to halt the growing shadowland that pulses with unnatural essence from entering the city of Greyfalls.

The realm has not seen fit to send more help, but it worries all who live near the strange realms of living and death. Perhaps, like a tide shifting before the moon, death is ascendant once more. Hungry ghosts and strange creatures wander the dusk, but no deathlord has made him or herself known. Why?

When the shadowland first developed, everyone within quailed, for they saw the city of thorns. Thousands fled, and the Dragonblooded within quietly waited for glory and death. But no deathknights emerged. No zombie army came to destroy them. Only a terrific outpouring of death essence that stopped just before their city.

Now everyone is paranoid. Babies are born with astonishingly white hair, the life bleached out of them. The city, like its people, are dying. Still, they stubbornly make false cheer and song, and continue to trade nervously under the long darkness of the dead. Ancestors, traitorous and blasphemous against the immaculate creed, feel a need to help their descendants, no matter how many times they are destroyed. Death cults form every day, and the dragonblooded are helpless to stamp it out.

Property on the other side of the city, the furthest from the shadowlands are exploding in price. Even a pauper, reduced to only a family plot is richer then he could have ever dreamed of, his land bought off by a desperate merchant. Rich patricians are reduced to destitute beggars when their estates are consumed by the deathly essence. It is a clash of classes, and it is also opportunity for all, even the lowest of society. Still, even the thieves and cutpurses refrain from ruffing up their victims too much - out of the fear that their ghost might come back to trouble them. Murderers are quickly found out, and they are quickly slain.

It is a desperate time. Prophets ring out in the streets, crying terror, saying that Saturn blazes bloody in the sky, and it is a time of ending. Some of you are compelled to this place. Others have been ordered. The question is, what will you do in this mishmash of humanity?

[Orosboru]

Invincible

There is only one word for it. The legion has swollen to a unheard-of million troops, and more are coming every day. Abyssal Deathknights swear to his banner, and it seems that his triumph is inevitable. The Lion has not declared his intentions, but every day his power grows, just as the other deathlords unite against him.

New cities are constructed for the rising tide of new ghosts, zombies, and other beings who flock to his cause. More resources are being committed here then there has ever been seen in the underworld. You are amongst the throng, the clashing and fighting desperate to gain a position in the Lion's organization. A huge Jade gate guards the entrance to the domain. It has been a long journey, and the only thing left is to pass.

[Volthawk]

Black Bone awoke in Sijan, the events of the dream echoing in his head. He looked at his surroundings - his old home - and got to work, rereading the information he had there before destroying the things in the room, leaving Sijan afterwards to follow the information from the dream, ending up in Greyfalls.

Black Bone heads to the areas of the shadowland that have consumed the city, basking in the Essence there. However, despite the relaxation that the shadowland offers, Black Bone is still somewhat confused and worried. Why is the shadowland just sitting here? It's not like the Deathlords are still undercover...unless the fear and chaos from the situation is the aim, not an invasion. Or is a simply they aren't confident that they could win? Eh, I guess I can learn that once I meet them. But for now...they were other Abyssals in the dream. I suppose they would've come here as well.

[Guancyto]

In time, Sil is exceedingly glad to have demanded the price she did. It helps her justify to herself the trouble of having to drag around a perpetually-sleeping former-fae, especially in the midst of her inquiries and battles. Especially since she has parted ways with Andros and is out a specialist in the field of investigation.

It would be exhausting - if she were capable of tiring. It would be frustrating - but she has given her word to her patron, and has no time for frustration. What it is is inconvenient, and worse, it is slowing her down. Her last meeting with an informant on the matter of this shadowland went poorly, which is to say she showed up to find a corpse drained of all its blood, surrounded by hungry ghosts.

That didn't stop her; the black stone over her heart glowed briefly, the corpse spoke of what it knew and the result was terribly enlightening. After puzzling through the information, she was forced to conclude that the place to get more information was none other than Greyfalls.

One of the few places where she'll be attacked the second anyone figures out what she is. Well, not even Primordials live forever. And so she walks through the town, covered in bandages and wrapped in a heavy cloak like a leper, with Melusine draped across her back like a child getting a piggyback ride. She stands a bit too strong to really be diseased, but it isn't likely that the townsfolk in their panicked state will take the time to notice.

She is a tad bit lost, but she knows from long experience the signs of an ancestor cult. Perhaps she can find one...

[DukeGod]

Invincible

When Requiem left, he believed the Lion had already gathered all he could. But now he saw himself wrong. The new army was rather amazing. He wasn't particularly impressed though, they were just ghosts. Any deathknight would be able to defeat them easily. Even he who wasn't truly focused on combat

Thingy was tired. This beast was common enough that some of the nearby ghosts gathered around him in some sort of escort. He had helped them before, and thus they auxiliated him now. Thingy was though an unusual sight, the only reason why they recognized him from far away. Simhata were exotic enough as they were, but his had been necrosurgeoned. It had a river dragon's frills around his head, growing seemlingly together with the mane, spikes on back of the legs, close to it's hooves. When he roared, one could see another two rows of teeth, both of different kinds and sizes, and equally sharp. His ears carried the stripes of a tiger, one of the eyes had a different color from the other

Upon arriving at the Jade gate, he wonders if someone was going to give him trouble. New forces could be problematic...

I'm not sure if the gate is supposed to be closed or not. IF it's not just say I went in and made my way to the Lion XD

[Orosboru]

Invincible
At first, you are one amongst many. Waiting in the endless line with beings of infinite patience is not the best of ideas. You could do several things at this point. Looking upwards, you can feel that as a mortal, you stick out in the throngs of the endless dead. Only a few living dare to come, and only in tight, large groups. The gate entrance is huge, built for warstriders - and miles away.

This is pointless. You are not a lesser being. You are a prince of the underworld.

Entropy
"Um, mister? You should leave this place. It isn't good for humans." You look. There is a small shrine, literally swamped with offerings. A small area of untainted land is cleared in a circle around. It seems to be working, barely. "I'm told to give this message to pilgrims. You are a pilgrim, right?" This looks like one of the many new small gods, reassigned from their old positions as minor harvest gods from this area. He still carries his old symbol of a scythe. How apt. "Heaven appreciates that if you donate your offerings to their main office, rather then to individual gods." Apparently, none of his worshippers had heeded that advice. The little god looks a little more stern. "Offerings or bribes will not let this one move to another's personal estate. Please understand that it's the good of the city." He pants. "That's alotta things to say. So what's up, mistah? You need anything?" He picks up a plate of steaming rice buns. He cheerfully offers some to you.

You pass in the more affluent area of Greyfalls, which isn't saying much. The upheaval in the city has caused a wave of reconstruction and looting. You pass relatively unnoticed as you enter. The guards don't even bother to search you, looking towards the shadowland with growing horror. The gift that Luna left you stubbornly refuses to open. Melusine also has yet to waken, but he is gaining weight every day. He no longer has his abundant essence reserves. He feels exactly like a... regular mortal. Whatever purpose Luna had for him, it better be damn important.

Along the crossroads, you notice several posters of... him. Notably, wanted posters from all over the realm warn of a Fae with many names, one of which is "Watcher of Moons." It has several, probably inaccurate names and faces. However, the latest of them has a small sketch with his current face. It offers a reward from House Mmenon. A talent of jade. He must have done something real bad in order to to justify that reward.

Thankfully, no one can recognize him under his many wrappings and bandages. Unfortunately, you've been feeling a fever from his body- and you're not sure if he's sick or not. Obviously, there wouldn't be a open ancestor cult where the Immaculates reign. The first place to start would be to go to the part of the city closer to the shadowlands.

[Recaiden]

[Entropy]

The only place to be is the shadowed edge of the city. She was home. Home? In this desolation? But it felt right. Even when he removed the bones and the skeletal jacket and the mark of Kamilla, the flow of the universe felt fully right. A large bug materializes on her shoulder and takes to the air, full of energy.

Look. People. In a patch of brightness, a tiny shrine holding back the Underworld. "Black Bone! Good day to you, comrade!" The shadow of her presence races the wind and the light as this one sprints over to her companion, ending with a cartwheel and a rice bun snatched up to her mouth.
"So soon do we meet. The blind girl is yet to come?"
"Oh, thanks little god. You are a credit to heaven."
"And here I thought these people accepted their approaching end.
She slings the jacket up onto her shoulder and looks around, taking in the beautiful emptiness of most of the area around.

[Gargulec]

Greyfalls... she shuddered when thinking of this city. Even with the shadowland at its border, her family - former family - still lived there. Of course, she knew that she should try to forget about them, their voices and faces, but it was hardly easy.

She found the shrine without much problems, feeling oddly well when washed over with a wave after wave after wave of deathly essence. Entering it, she lowered her head respectfully and left her cane at the doorstep.

It was a good place to wait for the rest.

[Orosboru]

Entropy

It is desolation. Nothing grows here. The walls of Greyfalls, it seems, indicate where life begins and death ends. The little god puts down his tray of buns, and carefully tip-toes through all of the offerings. Little sheets of prayers cover every wooden surface, begging or pleading the god to stay the influence of death here.

The god looks at the newcomers. He recognizes one. "Hi, Lyanna! I remember you! You had pretty paintings. How did your pregnancy go?" He trips on a pile of peaches. Sticky juice covers his face. "And, uh, to you. Uh... my name's Blossoming Summer Corn, but I'd expect that to change. No one's planted the spring crop yet..." He sniffs Echo. "You smell funny."

You remember this god in times of plenty. He was much bigger, not the size of a child. He was also... smarter. Not as many offerings, but much smarter.

[Volthawk]

Black Bone nods in recognition of Echo. "Of course they haven't accepted it. There's always an innate fear of death, and they'll do whatever they can to avoid it." Once he hears the word 'pregnancy', he goes quiet again. Hmm, pregnancy...and she's recognised here...she must have links here, and thus to Creation. That's probably why she seemed...antagonistic to our Neverborn master.

[Gargulec]

She sighed, almost painfully. She expected it to be hard. So why was she surprised?

'You never knew me, little one' she whispers back at him, not raising her head. 'Lyanna disappeared, and is lost for the world, and hope that she returns one day faded too. But you never knew her' she repeated, putting deceitfully little stress upon each of her words - yet each of them she infused with essence. 'and you will never know her again.'


Lies That Tell Themselves at the little god to make him believe that he never knew Nellens Lyanna. 10m, 1wp, powered from personal essence pool.
Charisma+Performance+Compassion channel
[roll0]

[Orosboru]

"But I did! I did! She was... who was she again?" The little god quivers, and starts crying. "*sniff* I forgot something again! This isn't good." You noticed little trails of necrotic essence under his godly veins. This god is rapidly losing his sentience, and you didn't make his situation any better. Perhaps only the massive amount of prayer that he receives keeps him from disappearing so close to a shadowland. The question is, out of all the memories he chose to keep, why did he remember you?

"What was I saying?" He stops crying. "Oh, there is a festival going on in Greyfalls! Just for singles. They're coming up with new ones every day!" He smiles. "I like children. Do you like children?"

[Gargulec]

She bit her lip, trying very hard to suppress the feeling of guilt. She realized what she has wrought moments after the essence of her charm worked.

Ultimately, she failed. It felt as if she had just committed a great sin. Slowly, she started to remember how did this god look years ago, when he was still hale and powerful and was not dying on her eyes.

It was not right, simply not right. It was natural either, it was not a good death at the end of a good life, it was an unholy usurpation of living essence that should endure for centuries to come. And worse yet, she felt not only completely helpless but also responsible for all that.

I should not have accepted the offer, she thought bitterly. But the deed was done, and there was little she could do. But little was always something, at least.

She reached under her robes, to a small pendant hanging from her neck, a piece of soulsteel clasped around a brilliant, clear gem, a mark of ownership of a manse in far-away land. It was emanating with an essence alien to her, essence of the sun.

She understood well enough that what she was going to do was hollow, overly dramatic gesture that would not help the situation... most likely. But she had to try. Snapping the chain from her neck, she stood up, wrapping the amulet in her now unused blindfold.

'Take it' she whispered to the god, putting the wrapping in front of him, hoping that her new companions won't mind. 'There is a power you need in it, pure and clear, brilliant as the one to whom you swear your allegiance, take it, I ask you, take it and remember, be, keep your soul.'

Her voice was shaking ever so slightly. She should not have had done it.


Congratulations to Orosboru for successfully guilt-tripping me.

[Orosboru]

The moment the gem touches his skin, he winces. It quickly attunes, flashing with living essence. His eyes glow with a renewed power, and the death essence that flows through him retreats, if just a little. He sighs deliriously. He sits down, his little robe ruffled up and tossed. And then it happens.

The sun is rising.

The eerie wind that had disturbed the lanterns before stops. His hair turns from a sandy brown to a brilliant gold. His robe turns from the dark dust of the earth to a vibrant green. He stares in awe at the sunrise. "It's back! It's back!" He skips and jumps. "The sun is back!" In the city, there is a noticeable change in the volume of the hustle and bustle, as everyone stops to admire the first rays of the sun they have seen for a month. It is beautiful, in a way.

And then you feel it. Death responds to life. Life responds to death. You feel a heavy burden on your shoulders, as if his gain was your loss. You grit your teeth as you feel a portion of the Neverborn's ill will upon you.

But was it worth it? The shadowland slowly retreats, forming a larger circle around his temple. The earth is no longer so cracked, so dry. You can feel his joy, but it is not a joy that you can share. It is a joy of new life, and that cannot be abided.
Already mortals approach, to seek the shrine of Blossoming Summer Corn and to see what their little god has done now. You have benefited creation. But what at what cost?

Gargulec gains 1 Resonance, and 1 Experience. Good job.

[DukeGod]

Invincible

It doesn't take long before Requiem decides to begin to open space by force.
He lets his power fly into the world with small effort, bringing his anima once more. He wouldn't be downright recognized since it was no his totemic representation. But he only needed to be known as a deathknight right now

Without even the need to think, Thingy, knowing full well what his next telepathic command would be, takes the lead and does it aniway. With a sudden movement, he lunges forward, grabbing one of ghosts by it's head, and throws it around leaving large bite marks. Then he roar, opening the frills and calling attention

"Open a path, ghosts. NOW!"

[Grim ranger]

Invincible

The journey has provided Visage plenty of time to think about his situation, as well as the odd behaviour Lover has been exhibiting as of late. He is not the very best judge of intentions and such: his skillset is more focused to misdirecting others about his own motives and identity. Nevertheless, he is both curious and cautious about Lover's intentions, even if he solemnly plans to betray her the second good chance to do so arises. It seems that such a chance is just opening up for him, but still he cannot help but to wonder if it is still just a trap.

The massive military force Lion commands impresses him quite a bit, but the widespread recruitment also means that the path of the two deathknights is momentarily blocked by the throng of ghosts seeking entry. As patient as he is, the deathknight does not wish to simply wait in line, and thus forces his own anima into being in time with his companion, drawing his bow from Elsewhere as well, just in case he will need to use it.

"Yes, give way to princes of the underworld!" he calls out alongside Requiem, arrow already nocked on the bowstring and ready to be sent at the first fool not to give way when ordered. "Give way or I will send you screaming to oblivion right here and right now."

Using 1 mote of peripheral essence to make Visage's anima flare.

[Orosboru]

A shadowy dragon, that reminds you of dead wood and fallen trees, cascades up and down around the Carp. Shadowy flames surround it like plumage, and it roars to all that can hear it that this man is a prince of the underworld, and he will not wait for anyone.

The other has even worse. His bow is surrounded by a cold, blue fire - one lacking any warmth. Native death essence burns a trail behind his every step, fluttering away like leaves in the wind. With every stride, there is a sigh from the dead earth - a little touch from the lover. It announces that he is a prince of the underworld, but it also reminds you of her terrible hold she still has over you.

The ghosts flee in terror, not willing to suffer your wrath. The crowd parts, some bowing and some sobbing as you pass. The jade gate opens soundlessly for you, and you proceed into the Lion's Fortress of the Thousand. Your pet gnaws on the head of the ghosts, which screams until it loses the last of its corpus and disappears. Even within, they give you a wide berth.

You pass through several lesser gates, each time your caste mark letting you through effortlessly. Finally you reach the first Soulsteel gate - and you see a woman in a very flashy pink dress standing next to another wielding a umbrella. They are very beautiful, even from this far. Their conversation is drowned out by the relentless wind that passes through here.

[Guancyto]

Closer to the shadowland it is, then! Sil makes the trek slowly, trying to look like she doesn't know where she's going.

...she should find a physician for her ward at some point, though. He's probably tough, but he wouldn't be the first person she's known to have died of fever. She keeps an eye out for that as well. For future reference.

[Volthawk]

Black Bone grimaces as he feels the shadowland's death Essence recede. Looking over at Blackbird, he says "A word in private?", irritation and...anger, perhaps, in his voice.

[Gargulec]

She felt it, and though her essence recoiled at the purification, she smiled to herself for a brief moment. She felt the weight of resonance too, but... there was some wicked satisfaction in denying the wishes of her new masters.

'Gladly' she mutters Black Bone.

[Orosboru]

You feign ignorance as you wander towards the bad side of town, but it is pointless - everyone is slowly moving towards the east side of the city, to get a better glimpse of the sun. In areas near shadowlands, the sun is dim and rarely seen except in its zenith. To see it at dawn must be a miracle. Unfortunately, that probably means that all of the ghosts are gone, banished by the sun.

Melusine mumbles, "...my unnamed. Whence has she been?" He still feels like a sack of rocks, but it's the first time he's spoken ever since you've been given a request to take care of him.

[Volthawk]

Black Bone leads Blackbird a fair distance away, out of sight of the god and mortals, before speaking, or more accurately, ranting. "What do you think you're doing? We're not here to save the city. We're deathknights! We're destroyers! It's what the deal of the Black Exaltation was, and what we're supposed to do! Are you suicidal or something? We haven't even met our Deathlord, and you're sabotaging the situation! You knew what you were getting into when you were offered the Exaltation!"

[Guancyto]

"Huh. You awake, little guy? It's about time," Sil murmurs. If the ghosts are banished, that puts less impetus on her to hold off finding him a physician. Hopefully one that isn't too picky about being paid, since she mostly holds currency in punches.

She asks a passer-by about the subject, if one happens to be handy.

[Turalisj]

The Shadows Stir

Andromalius was sitting in the back of the tavern, watching the various patrons entering and leaving. It had been a month since that meeting with the Lunar and the Incarnae, since seeing the Maiden of Endings laying near death and being given a new heart.

Since then, he had thought about many things. And memories, memories had awoken inside of him. Many times at night he would dream of an ancient past, one more glorious than anything today. And his coadjatur, the voice in the back of his head, had become more anxious. Something was happening.

He slammed the drink onto the table, grumbling under his breat and looking around. This time he had taken the form of a wandering merchant, a spice salesman from the Realm.

A man came up to him and bowed, taking a seat. "Are you Sesus Melzain?"

"Depends. Who is asking?" He leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowing on the man.

"One who serves the Shadow of All Things. I was given the task of speaking with you, one who strums the strings of Fate is to be found by you." The cultist said, speaking in broken Old Realm.

"Enough of your babbling and begone." Melzain said as the man scurried away. He took another sip of his drink. Things might get interesting.

[DukeGod]

Invincible

Requiem rides towards the Thousand. The two gossiping women were amazingly beautiful. And at least one of them called his attention. Mad men notice details. She wore a pink dress. The underworld was as he quite knew, clothed only in shades of black, white and grey. Every now and then you could see blood-red or a dark version of other colors. But never had he saw pink

Upon coming closer to them, he let's go of his power. It would quite likely be uncorteous to show his anima like that. He already had the burn scars in his forehead to show status as a deathknight. And from this close he can recognize the one who holds an umbrella, if only from stories of the Lion's court

[Orosboru]

"Huh? A physician? I've heard that a new one set up shop recently - name, uh, Misho? Yeah, he treats people for free! You heard him, too? Anyway, I'm going to the harvest god's shrine - people have been talking of miracles happening there." The man looks shabby. Strange. Very strange...

Roll 3d10. Yup. And then roll dexterity + stealth.

You've been told to find a very specific girl - you've been given very precise details. Horns, tail, a claw on one hand - but she has the loom-snarling charm as well, and fools fate as equally as well. You've also been told that deathknights are unusually active, especially with the new shadowland. Check it out.

The only other infernal agent is a demon, who apparently likes pink dresses. The local cult might be of some help, but you think that you can get more done on your own. A woman passes by, a man on her back. Strange. Very strange...

Roll Perception+Investigation.

[Gargulec]

'Apparently, I was not' she did seem moved by the outburst of Black Bone's anger. 'But tell me... is that really what you want to be? A destroyer? You really believe that it will make anything better? Look at the shadows you cast, you fool, look at the shadowland you cherish. You want that? Hurl yourself into the Void if you want to cease to exist, do not drag Creation behind you only because it wronged you somehow, for that is both petty and pathetic!

Her words were simple, but she did infuse them with a little of her own self-loathing.


Soul Desiccating Style instilling an emotion of self-loathing in Black Bone, fuelled from personal motes (6m), away!
Cha+Performance+3 dice bonus from relative appearance
[roll0]

[Grim ranger]

Invincible

As the ghosts part before them in terror, Visage is once again clad for his ebony mask. The audiable sighs given by the dead earth every time his boot touches down on it often tick him somewhat, and were it not for his face it might even show. They remind him constantly of the invisible hold Lover has over him, and are not unlike rattling of chain to his ears in that regard. Thus, he suffers them through clenched teeth at best.

As they ride onwards, Visage pays the two talking women only a passing glance, but is also mindful enough to extinquish his anima and ponder about what he sees. First things first, he needs to find Lion, but getting an audience with greatest of oblivion's generals might not be all that easy. After that, he can ponder on the pair of women.

Placing his weapon to his back again, he waits and sees what will happen.

[Guancyto]

"Right," is all Silver says, heading in the direction of this Misho fellow. Hopefully it's in the same direction as the harvest god's shrine.

She coughs loudly, doing her best to look invalid. It hasn't been so long since she's been mortal, but it's been much longer that she's been ill.

3d10: [roll0] - 2 sux
Dex+Stealth, let's toss 4 excellency dice at this. [roll1] - lawls, 2 sux

[Volthawk]

Black Bone shakes his head. "Nice try, but that won't help your argument, insulting me." He goes quiet for a moment, before responding, now slightly calmer.

"But let me ask you something in return. Why do you protect Creation? You no longer belong there. They despise you, seeing you as now being a killer, a destroyer, an Anathema. Wherever you go now, you will be hunted. And look around! Creation is a wreck! The people cling to their Dragon-Blooded overlords and their gods, too fearful to do anything meaningful, and their bigotry and religion means that when people are given the power to do something, they kill them! It's self-destructive, all we're doing is speeding the process."

[Gargulec]

'What we are doing it a blasphemy of worst sorts, pretending that death is an end' she sneered back at him. 'Ask why? Creation may be a wreck, may be dying, but death is only a first step to rebirth. And ending is a beginning of something new, and that Void that denies even this is just... an horror that must be opposed. I will watch over what remains until there is nothing, and then I will witness world cleansed and born anew.'

[Orosboru]

Entropy-The Shadows Stir
Andromalius recognizes that person - It's that Lunar! Despite being in humanoid form, and covered in a very effective disguise, he recognizes her. And that must be the Fae! Hmm, if he can regenerate Incarnae parts, perhaps he might be of some use to the Yozis.


6 successes vs 2 (+2 for the disguise. egg salad)


And the Lunar recognizes the passerby - it's that Sidereal! She saw him in that circle - he was a chosen of Serenity! But it's too late - he's already gone.

Lol arcane fate fail. Perhaps he didn't expect to be spotted in Yu-Shan...

Invincible
The woman in a pink dress explodes in a shower of black, floating down to you two. Her form is rapidly brought together, with tiny green wisps of infernal essence binding her form together. The last thing to form is her pink raiment, which unfortunately gives you a good show of her body.

"I," she pauses to take a deep breath, "am Mara, the Shadow Lover, defining soul of That Which Calls to the Shadows,
Seventh Soul of the Ebon Dragon. Pleased to make your acquaintance." She smiles.

"You're a showoff." The other woman yells from the roof.
"And you were easily tricked!" Mara yells back. "So, what are you two very fine men doing here today?"

[Volthawk]

"I see. So if you are so opposed to the Neverborn, Deathlords and the Void, why did you accept the Exaltation?"

[Gargulec]

'For I was deceived, and I deceived myself.'

[Guancyto]

Entropy

Sil is thoroughly unamused. How did he manage to get away so quickly? Well, she'll still go see this Misho - the Serenity is unlikely to lead her into a trap, given the circumstances of their last meeting - but there's no way she's going in with anything less than full awareness and readiness to warform at a moment's notice.

She had forgotten how very annoying Sidereals are when they decide to be competent.

[Grim ranger]

Invincible

Looking as the Shadow Lover does her little trick and appears before them, Visage remains as unimpressed as ever, bowing his masked and hooded head at the demonic being. "Shifting Visage of Endless Night at your service", the deathknight says cordially but also somewhat curtly. "I am here to speak to the First and the Forsaken Lion, and in somewhat of a schedule. Is he in the Thousand currently?" he asks, his tone being cold and formal as always like someone had coated it with ice.

While waiting for the answer, he looks at the woman still at the roof, his blank blue eyes betraying absolutely nothing as usual. After some seconds of observation, he turns his attention back to Mara, small wisps of frost floating from the mouth of his mask.

[Volthawk]

"I see." Black Bone turns and walks back to the shrine. At least the other deathknight appeared to be loyal.

[DukeGod]

Invincible

Requiem would once have been quite scared by the demoness. But now, he feared nothing. His eyes barely blinked when she showed herself as a matter of fact

"I am Requiem to the Carp That Shed Its Scales, Deathknight to None" he turns his eyes to the lady with the umbrella at this point. Her reaction he imagined, would be amusing

"I am an ally to the Lion For now, at least. New masters can always be fun he whispers the last part as he reaches for her hand, and raises it, kissing the back of it. He does not lower himself to do so as he knew it was how it was often done. And then, Requiem simply seems to ignore Mara for now, and tries to pass through her left

[Orosboru]

Invincible
"Oh." She pouts as she gives her hand to the deathknight. "I was used to another reaction. Another day, another mortal..." She stares at Visage. "The Lion's always at his throne in the Thousand. His Neverborn cursed him here the day he donned that armour. Even I knew that." She licked her lips. "He used to be soooo handsome. When I heard that he got married, I couldn't resist."
"We're not." The voice speaks at the top. It is barely restrained fury of a offended diplomat.
"It's good to know that you're so... open." She retracts her hand and places it next to her skin. Her gaze went down to Requiem. "I hope we have a cordial relationship in the future, deathknight." She winks at you. "And... perhaps something more? But I'm afraid that even your kind will have to wait a little while to gain his audience. I think that he's executing the latest round of suckups." She scratches her head. "Not including me, of course."
"Have you said enough? I have better things to do." The woman with the umbrella leaves.
Mara shrugs. "Well, let's go in, shall we?"

Entropy
The shrine is full of mortals, all staring and cheering and crying. The little boy god is paraded around, and he's basking in the adulation, the soulsteel amulet dancing around his neck. A couple of dragonbloods have shown up, as well.

"Mistress, we haven't seen hide or hair of the Anathema for a month! Ever since he disappeared from the blessed isle from our justice, we have only heard the vaguest rumors!" A blue-haired girl speaks quietly.
"I know!" A red-headed dragonblood says. "I'll find him."
"Shouldn't we give up this quest? It's been a year. He can take any form he wishes - he might have tired of playing with you." The green-haired man spoke. He wore jadesteel plate, and hefted a staff.
"Trust me, Cynis. He's here. I have a feeling about it."
"Was that the same feeling that made you beat up that minstrel? I thought that..." the blue haired girl continues.

You ignore it. The city beckons, and so does your masters. You can see it even more clearly - a small valley, filled with earth, water, air, wood, and fire - much like the one in your dreams.

[Turalisj]

Entropy

Andromalius followed the lunar. He would take to questioning the local mortals and spirits about the errant demon-blood in a bit. For now, he was curious as to whether or not he could obtain that infant.... He tailed her closely, though with this many people being followed was usually of no concern. If he could play off of that lax in defense, then this would be easy.


Stealth+Dexterity roll to remain hidden in the crowd: [roll0]

[Grim ranger]

Invincible

"Yes, let us go. The sooner I can get away from this...display, the better" Visage says drolly, clearly quite annoyed by the casual flirting and all-around stupidity he has to endure on minute basis. He is a professional on a mission, after all, not some lovesick teen trying to talk to pretty lady. "I wish to get my business over with soon... It really is quite urgent. The sooner I can do that, the sooner I will be out of your hair."

[DukeGod]

Invincible

"Chiiiiil...down already. I belive you won't gain the tru...st of the Lion that easily. It might take a whiiile before we get a mi...ssion

Requiem smiles and just walks in. He was rather wary of both Mara and the Princess's presence though

[Guancyto]

Entropy

Heedless of whoever happens to be following her, Silver heads off in the direction of this free physician. She can look at the harvest god's shrine and its miracles later, once the largest crowds have cleared out. Large crowds are bad for her health right now.

Perception+awareness to notice him yeah that's not gonna happen. [roll0]
Also, continual Defend Other action on Melusine sponsored by Admiral Ackbar.

[Orosboru]

Invincible
The great soulsteel gate opens, a great maw of teeth and bone. The souls within writhe in agony as it sparks with the rock floor. The Princess walks with Mara, silent as always while she chats it up. While diminished in stature, she is still a great and terrible deathlord, a solar ghost slain during the ursupation. Only a fool would underestimate her.

Rooms after rooms of emptiness come to a single waiting chamber. Blood slicks the bottom of the floor, oozing out from great dragon maws on the side. It slows to a trickle. That doesn't bode well for the Lion's visitors. Two men wait in the room, arguing.

"You're a idiot, you great idiot."
"No, I'm not!"
"You lost the Eye of Autochthon. What am I supposed to say?"
"Well... it was probably not worth it anyway."
"You idiot! It was the only thing that can unseal the Seal of-" The man stopped. "Good meeting, my liege."

"..." The princess said nothing as she went into the Lion's chambers.

"As I was saying, we're boned. Might as well jump into oblivion while we're at it. The Lion is much more slower."
The other man with black hair started strumming his guitar.
"Would you stop that!"
"Aw, come on, it's going to be awesome when it's done! I have charms I think are going to be wicked! Look, here's the chick now."
"You keep telling yourself that. Huh, what-" He turns around. "Mara. What are you doing here?"
Mara assumed a innocent face. "Would you believe that I'm looking for family?"
"If you were a fire aspected terrestrial with firewands for pants, you wouldn't be so truthful."
Mara sighs. "Oh well. Got two new guys - both delicious."
The more serious men frowns. "Great. More deathknights. Makes my job feel so secure. Who are you."

Entropy

A tattered merchant's stand has a line marching around the block. The merchant himself has no goods, and has tenatively put a huge, crudely lettered "MISHO" up. You look at one end. They all look horrible. You look at the other. They look... a little better. Dirty, but better. Woman who have been elected nurses rush in and out, sometimes with bloodstained bandages. Whoever this quack is, he's crazy enough to do surgery, for you can see old veterans going in as well.

You disappear into the crowd, and it appears that the Lunar has not spotted you. You think that the man on her back might have seen you, but you dismiss it as a paranoid thought. He's unconscious. What can he do?

[Volthawk]

Back at the shrine, Black Bone walks over to Echo and taps her on the shoulder. "Hey, I'm leaving now, heading down there." He gestures down the valley. "Our mistress awaits us down there."

[Turalisj]

Entropy

Andromalius scratched his chin as he followed. Did that man spot him? Nah. He didn't want to do anything to startle the crowd though, taking his head off might cause too much of a commotion.

Taking a drink from the flask at his hip, he continued to watch. He was, in fact, now watching more intently than others. Essence gathered around his eyes as he focused, revealing to himself the secrets of others.


Using Essence Dissecting Stare, but don't have my book with me atm. Paying cost out of personal motes.

[Guancyto]

Entropy

Never could it be said that Silver has no heart. The sight of so many wounded and sick and desperate...

...it would, however, be accurate to say that if she hypothetically were to have a heart of gold, it would be because it has been torn from her chest and gilded, probably with an alloy that isn't as soft and useless as pure gold. She cuts in line.

She aims to get in near enough that this Misho fellow won't notice her doing so. Soft-hearted people always seem to take issue with that, and this guy sounds almost as soft as a pampered noble. She gets in front of an old man with one eye and a broken leg and behind a woman holding a crying baby.

It's fine. She coughs again and does her best to look contagious. Hopefully nobody will want to get near enough to her to catch what she's got. Of course, carrying an actual plague is well within her capabilities and would get her there faster, but it would also be pretty inconvenient. Not to mention much too conspicuous.

[Recaiden]

[Entropy]

"After you. I take it the blind girl refuses to understand? I almost have doubts, but that...was wrong. There is no place for pity in this world."

She turns and heads toward the valley, trailing just behind Black Bone.

[Orosboru]

Entropy

"Scalpel. Stitches. Joan, please go wash your hands in the basin. Scissors. Andros, I need you. Give the patient some blood, please. Suction." You hear a voice calmly state. "Tweezers. Alan, if you would be so kind as to give me that plate..." A large plop is heard. "There! That should do it! The patient is breathing. Pulse, normal. He should recover easily, but tell his family that he should not stress that side too much. Pour that wine on. Next!"

You hear a scream of agony. "...thank you, doctor."

The physician emerges. His apron is bloodstained, and his hair is covered with a cloth so that the hair does not fall out. His hands are gloved and his glasses are fogged with some steam. Immediately, they clamor to him, but former patients block them. "One at a time please. Miss, your baby is colicky. Go talk to a midwife. Old man, over there, your joint is dislocated. I'll deal with-" He looks at you. "Can I help you?"

The valley has not been touched by the death essence that pollutes the land above, but the place isn't called Greyfalls for nothing. The water is silty, and rich soil from upstream settles here. This would be a fertile place, and a nice place to grow crops... if there wasn't so much demand for a port.

At least, looking in from the city. In order to go to valley, you'll have to get into Greyfalls.

Andromallius sees. A tiny artifact clings to the surgeon? Doctor? His chest. It has a small amount of essence. You see a box glow with a lot of essence, on the Fae (man?) In addition, there is two bracers, a amulet, and a gemstone on the lunar.

[Guancyto]

Entropy

"Yeah," Sil says quietly, "this idiot is burning up. And lazy bum that he is, he hasn't woken up in a month. It's been a pain in the ass, but I promised to take care of him. Think you can take a look?"

She looks about for a table to set him on, swiftly and surreptitiously retrieving Luna's gift from him and stowing it in her cloak.

[Orosboru]

"Hm." The physician looks him over. "Hm." He looks at you. "I won't ask any questions. He ungloves one hand and feels his forehead. "Definitely a fever. Coma. Physiological? No, it can't be. No obvious wounds or infections. Flu? Doesn't demonstrate other symptoms. A cough? Maybe, but it's a outlier." He raises his eyebrow. "Psychological? Maybe. Or even both. Must see." He takes out another pair of glasses from his case. It is made out of moonsilver. It tingles with essence, and he swaps them with his normal pair.

"Hm... has he donated any blood? A organ, perhaps? Or did he recently suffer from, err, a broken heart?" The physician looks into his eyes. They are glassy. "Has he spoken to you, or shown any sign of alertness? This is very important."

(Andros knows the power ratings in dots of the artifacts (the glasses is one dot) but not the giftbox. He didn't roll high enough to discern function Also, the physician's use of the charm is bloody obvious.)

[Guancyto]

Sil starts to smile slowly. Ah, the Serenity hadn't led her into a trap, and might even have found her another Chosen. Good. Still might not be pleasant for her, but at least she'll get done what she needs to do. That's the important part. "He spoke a bit ago, but he's pretty out of it. He donated a heart. It's complicated, don't ask me to explain it."

[Grim ranger]

Invincible

Paying attention at the speaker simply due to he seemed to be most serious person present, Visage fixed him with the blank gaze of his pupilless blue eyes before offering him a small, formal nod. "You may call me Visage, if that is your wish. I have many names", he simply says while allowing his face and clothes cycle through appereance of every person present before returning to his normal outlook. "And I am not seeking the immediate trust of the Lion... You should know that it would be nigh-impossible thing to attain. But nevertheless I will have to speak with him as soon as it is possible. I am not here to 'chill down' as you put it." Visage declares quite bluntly while looking at his erstwhile compatriot "I am here for a specific reason, and that reason only. 'Chilling' is not a thing I have chance to engage in at present moment."

[Volthawk]

"Yeah, she does. She thinks that Creation shouldn't be fully destroyed, and allowed to rebuild once it is destroyed. She's taking the Neverborn's power and then not following them in exchange for it." Black Bone sighs. "However, the priority should be that we get home now. If she wants to act against our new masters, that's up to her. She can't expect that there will be no repercussions, though." Black Bone keeps on walking as he talks, determined to get to his destination as quickly as possible.

[Orosboru]

Entropy
"...interesting. Why, I-"
"Doctor, they're saying that the harvest god kept back the shadowland! He's-"
"I know, Joan. You may leave - it looks like the patients are thinning out." He looks outside. The first few rays of hope had bolstered many of them to action.
The room slowly clears, and eventually you three are left alone. He takes off his apron and his gloves and deposits them in a basin filled with water.

"Place him down on the table. I think that this need some special treatment. Miss..?"

Invincible
"Yeah, man, chill. It's not like we have much to do, anyway." He strums his guitar. "Waiting on out master is both punishment and blessing. You don't know what you'll get!"
"Punishment?" The man briefly stretches out his fleshless limb. "I don't think that my insane friend understands the depth of the Lion's Mercy. You-"
"Chillax, would you? I've got it right here. I've been trolling you. Like a troll. Under a bridge. Eating children."
"You..." He turns to Visage. "Excuse me, I'll like to talk to my partner. In private." He leaves, dragging his whining partner in tow.

The door slams shut. A large, ornate throne with a huge dent in it sits in the middle of the room, with a massive table in front of it. Mara sits, watching the four.

[DukeGod]

Invincible

"I'm Requiem to the Carp That Shed Its Scales. Don't waste your time though, I'm not one of the Lion's deathknights"

Once the only form of entertainment in the room is gone. He goes back to talking to Visage

"Well, with some luck the Lion won't be with a sense of humor today. And stop sending me after Deathlords. It's getting boring. Your mistress was by far the most interesting one!"

[Grim ranger]

Invincible

Visage shivers visibly at Requiem's mention of Lover, though for what reason no one can say. "If you spent more time in her court, your opinion might be changed... But it is not my place to speak of her. I merely do tasks I am charged with doing: no more, no less. At least they provide breaks from the dull monotone of meaningless existence" he muses, walking in small circle before looking at Requiem again. "Perhaps after all is seen and done, I can finally walk the underworld without her chain clattering in my ear with every step... But I rather doulbt it."

[Guancyto]

"Silver," is all she says, laying Melusine down on the table but keeping an eye out nonetheless, just in case. Harvest god drove back a shadowland? She'll definitely want to take a look later.

[Recaiden]

Echo strolls along, easily keeping pace even as black Bone hurries into the valley.
"Focus on the means and not the ends, is she? Sad, to lose their goals. We will have to help her learn again."
"Wait. We have a home? I think you know the most of us about where we go. Tell me?"

[Gargulec]

She was feeling genuinely lost.

The words of Black Bone affected her more that she thought they would, for there was more than a smidgen of truth in them, and her own responses appeared forced.

Did she do the right thing there, in the temple? She thought that yes, she did, but now, walking down on the familiar cobblestones, she could not say whether she was sure anymore.

She could not see, but she remembered Greyfalls, she remembered how... oppressed she felt here back in the days of her living, how she wanted all the dragon-bloods to die in the fire for being so obnoxiously *better*. Those desires seemed petty to her now, but she could not tell herself why she wanted this city to endure. It gave her nothing, and mere moments ago, she would give it everything only to save it.

She envied Black Bone's clarity, she realized.

The pavement under her feet ended, she had unknowingly ventured into the poor parts of the city. She knew that those slums were hardly safe, but then again, she was no longer weak. Even blinded as she was, there were almost no mortals that could pose a threat to her.

But then she remembered something more. There was a tiny Immaculate shrine in this district, a small, cramped temple attended by a single young monk going by the name of Wave. She recalled her fondly, though she knew her only briefly. She appeared to be calm and wise beyond her years, her words strangely soothing.

She knew that she should hurry up and meet the rest, but then again, she had the time, she knew that as well. All of the time that remained.

Recalling the path that lead to the shrine, and hoping that she will find it still there, she walked deeper into the district until she would find herself standing on the temple's threshold.

[Orosboru]

Entropy

The physician effortlessly removes the rags and admires the musculature. "Amazing. If I didn't know better, I would say that he was abnormally young - but he can't! He pinches several points going down the middle. Hmm... he's missing the keystone, but his essence flows are otherwise fine." He turns up. "He must have loved someone deeply, Silver. I've only seen this in old men who outlasted their woman, and suicides. Would you know whom?"

...

Invincible
The door to the next room opens briefly as the Princess storms out. There is a smile on her face as she and Mara leave. "Sorry to leave you handsome men alone, but I really do have family trouble to deal with. See you later!" She blows you a kiss.

The door slams loudly, echoing in the halls. The blood founts on the side have been reduced to a trickle. "THE LION WILL AUDIENCE WITH YOU NOW." some voice proclaims.

Entropy
As you walk the streets, you realize that the streets are deserted. All the people went... somewhere. Anywhere. But there is no sound of people living, or dying. There is no person wandering the streets, and the sun rises. A doctor has set up shop nearby, but even in a poor district, with many sick and wounded, nothing moves from within. A quiet, methodical voice carries with the wind.

The temple is empty. A thin layer of dust coats the entrance. Doubtlessly, the immaculate would be furious at the state of even the least of their shrines. A single candle is lit, lighting up what would otherwise be a deep and dark place.

[Volthawk]

"Well, you heard our Deathlord when you were offered the Exaltation, correct? She's our mistress, now. Her home is the closest thing we have to one, now." Black Bone looks around. "This quietness is odd. People don't usually seem so...accepting of their death. I wonder how well that doctor is managing.

[Gargulec]

She stood at the doorway a long while, waiting for someone to come out. But it was empty and deserted. Just a single candle. It puzzled her, honestly. It was not lit that long ago, someone must have cared enough to come to that derelict place with it after the monk has left... or else.

Respectfully taking off her sandals and leaving them before the shrine, she entered, her hands feeling the outlines of crude depictions of the Immaculate Dragons.

Even now, after the lies of this faith has been exposed to her, she could not but feel respect for it. It was not a religion of evil, as some would want to describe it, no. It called out to people to seek enlightenment, to work to see the world made better, to abandon the fear of death, for what was it if not only a chance of a better new life? And not all monks were mindless zealots, no, not all. Certainly the girl that served here was not one.

She knelt, offering a wordless prayer to the ideals this faith embodied. If she had a candle, she would lit it too, but sadly, she had none.

She stood up and walked outside. She needed to know what happened to the monk, where can she find her. And if she was still alive.

The only voice she could hear was the doctor's, so towards his shop she walked, wondering.

[Guancyto]

Entropy

"Yes," Sil says curtly, giving some consideration to the idea. And the man aiding her. Those are moonsilver spectacles... but this is Greyfalls. She's only passing through, and the Sidereal has his own advantages - if this Misho is an Exalt, he'd have to be crazy to set up shop. And if he isn't...

"The one who asked me to take care of him, I think. Is there anything you can do?"

[Orosboru]

Entropy

"Yes, I-" Three men burst in.
"Where's the juice of the poppy, doctor?" The largest one yells. "Give it to me." He wields a longsword.
"Those are for patients! You are despicable-"
The smallest one pulls a knife, and grabs the doctor by the hair. "I'd close your trap if I were you. No one's around to hear you scream."
The middle man watches outside. "He's right, and you aren't stupid, man. Just hand it over, and we'll be our way." He bears a Lookshy crossbow. Interesting.

There is some racket going on in the tents, for three ragged men have just entered.

"I have three operations this afternoon!" the doctor exclaims. "They'll need that more then you, can't you see?"
"Shut up, and show us where!" He lightly taps his ribs. "I'm not afraid to use it, my dear."

[Guancyto]

As always, Silver isn't going to let a drastic change in circumstances distract her from her goals. She says nothing, letting the men keep their focus on the doctor. They'll regret it soon enough.

She takes a single step behind the smallest man, winds up and hits him in the back of the head as hard as she can, aiming for the very base of the skull. If she has her way he should drop immediately, but he might be tougher than he looks. Of course, if she really has her way his head will explode in a shower of gore, but she barely has time to be entertaining such idle fantasies.

In any case, should he drop, she catches him as he falls and takes the knife. If he's still alive, she holds the knife to the unconscious man's throat and spins to face his allies. The remaining two won't look so smug with their comrade about to die.

Paaawwwnch! With 5m from the Dex Excellency from Personal Essence. [roll0] - 12 successes, or 11 if the catch counts as a flurried clinch, come to think.

[DukeGod]

Invincible

"I guess Venus DOES favors the bold..."

Requiem speaks with a smile once Mara and the Princess is gone

...but maybe not so much. Let's go them

Approaching the door, he pushes it open

[Turalisj]

Entropy

Andromalius approached the tent as Sil took down one guard. The flaming, invisible orbs swung around him rapidly in anticipation of combat. He looked towards the man at the tent, analyzing where he would move. Acting in a meticulous fashion, the trio of orbs flung out, aimed at the man's knees. He didn't feel for this man, his face showed no hint of feeling as the blades merged into a blunted disk.

And this all happened without the slightest hint of who caused it. Yes, the man known as Sesus Melzain was merely wondering what had happened at the tent when, somehow, something had caused the man's knee to shatter. Luckily there was a doctor around for that poor man.


[roll0] Attacking with Telekinetic Blow on the guy just outside the tent. He can't block it and is at a -3 DV to dodge.
Fierce blow if possible.

[Grim ranger]

Invincible

"Handsome? She must have a peculiar taste", Visage comments dryly after Princess and Mara have left and taps his mask before his attention is drawn by the voice telling them that their audience is granted. "Yes, let's go. I believe the sooner I will get this over with, the less likely I am to explode with Resonance", he muses as he follows Requiem through the door, mentally bracing himself. Who knows what Lion might have in store for him?

[Orosboru]

There is a calm breath.

A invisible force shreds a man's flesh to the bone, crying out in agony at the sheer force that destroyed him. Little gibbets of flesh swirl in the air, and blood gushes out before it is sealed. He falls to the ground, his leg useless, unmoving.

The lunar strikes, and a light snap is heard as his head twists in a unnatural direction. She grabs the rusty knife before he can put it in to the doctor's belly moments before he dies. His head lolls around, useless.

"You killed me buddies!" The big man cries. He strides over to strike at the unconscious man. "Now you'll really get it!"

"No!" The doctor yells. He rushes to protect his patient. He draws a scalpel. "I won't let you hurt those under my care."

"No." The large man stabs him in the gut, and presses his boot against his chest to pull it out. "No, you won't." He stands above Melusine, his straight sword glistening with blood.

[Recaiden]

[Entropy]

"Yes, I heard her." This one pauses and laughs.
"Quiet? I suppose relatively, it is. Then there is no acceptance. This is the silence of death's wings and streets emptied of the living. Can't you tell? Something is about to happen."

[Guancyto]

She would've expected him to attack the person who is actually a threat to him. Careless of her. "Eager to join them, are we?" Silver growls, "my pleasure!"

With his sword stuck in the doctor, he can't do much to defend himself. She grabs his throat and tears at it with her bare nails, ripping until the blood gushes and spills and the light fades from his eyes.

Another punch, this one with 3 excellency dice from personal. [roll0]. Making a Fierce Blow, so -1 accuracy success in exchange for +3B raw damage. 13 successes in all.

[Orosboru]

Entropy

With a single movement, you rip out his throat, the skin tearing off like rice paper. There is blood, blood everywhere - and you can smell the stench of emptied bowels. He chokes on his life's blood, trying to support himself on his sword before he finally falls.

Deathknights smell the heady stench of rotten blood - those who are already dead. They also smell the blissful, addicting smell of the dying - someone was murdered here, in the empty streets of the living. It comes from the doctor's tent.

The Infernal looks at his handiwork. You have successfully maimed the crossbowman, and he'll never walk again. The sounds of the Lunar within tearing things apart is... violent. You wouldn't want to be in their shoes.

The doctor sits, bleeding out on the floor. His spectacles are cracked, and he is breathing laboriously. Unless someone skilled - like him, alas - were to treat him, he will die. The ruckus of the fighting can be heard for a while off...

Invincible

The gate opens. The Lion awaits. Sitting on his soulsteel throne, bound to eternal agony by his neverborn master, lord of his realm and everything underneath it. His grand daiklaive is drenched in blood. Perhaps someone displeased him this morning.

A single exalt, his caste mark blazing with the moon's shadow, is uncomfortably cradling a baby. He flinches at every sound from his master, waiting for a order.

"APPROACH AND DECLARE, FREE KNIGHTS." The First and Forsaken Lion extends a hand, and slams it down on his throne. A hundred souls cry out, but even they are quickly silenced by his mien.

[Volthawk]

Black Bone looks over at the tent. "Apparently he isn't doing very well at his job."

[Turalisj]

Entropy

Melzain cursed as he ran into the tent, tossing off his hat and jacket. As they landed in the shadow of the tent, they vanished like whisps of smoke.

He had to act quickly. Analyzing the best method to stop the bleeding, he looked around the tent for anything he could use. Taking strips of cloth, he turned to Sil. There was no emotion in his voice.

"Get whatever clean water you can and some strong alcohol." He said as he began to press the cloth into the wound. It wasn't a true dressing, but it would hopefully do.

As he worked, memories flashed back to him. He was in a tent like this once, but much much larger and with hundreds of patients. Tending to them all. As he worked to keep the doctor from dying, the doctor's face distorted until it appeared to be the same as one of the men from the first age. Andromalius blinked, and his face returned to normal.


Attempting to use first excellency with the rest of my personal motes (4) and using my past life bonus for 2 bonus dice
[roll0] Intelligence
[roll1] 1st excellency
[roll2] past life

[Grim ranger]

Invincible

Nervous before the merciless deathlord but not showing it outwards with gesture nor word, Visage walks along with Requiem, stopping as the other deathknight did and saluting the Lion formally. If he screws this one up, he will likely cut to little pieces faster than he can even think about dodging... But that just increases the importance of not screwing up.

Relaxing as much as he can as he looks at the fully armoured figure of the First and the Forsaken Lion, Visage speaks. "Greetings, greatest of Oblivion's generals. I am Visage, servant of the Lover Clad in Raiment of Tears... And I was sent here to find out your plans. My mistress is getting...agitated, as well as many other deathlords. Before you cut me down as enemy spy, however, allow me to say something."

Knowing that this was likely the most dangerous part of his little gamble by far, he continued nevertheless, very aware that one slip would doom him utterly. Well, at least he would be released from the slavery he had condemned himself to. "I am not very well-liked in the court of my current mistress, and in return despise it, and her. I have waited my time to find a deathlord more worthy of my service, and now I believe that I have found one. If you will accept me, I shall swear my allegiance to you, general."

[Guancyto]

Sil complies immediately; the doctor almost certainly has supplies of that nature lying around for his own needs; all that she needs to do is find them.

[DukeGod]

Invincible

Requiem sighs. The Lion was way waaaay too formal whenever there was something else in the room. At least from his point of view...

"Requiem to the Carp That Shed Its Scales. Deathknight to None as you well know Lion"

He doesn't salute the Lion and like Visage doesn't show any sign of being nervous. He as a matter of fact was, his courage was unshakeable, if a bit stupid

"And I bring the information you asked me to gather. ", he says putting enphasis on "asked"

[Orosboru]

Entropy
Sil finds the materials easily. A bottle of wine and several semi-clean bandages sit next to the table. You hurry over to the man who just burst in. He's in a bad way. Blood gurgles out of his chest from the top and the bottom. The man's hands move with the expert precision of a trained doctor.

You try to clamp the veins shut, but the sword is filthy. If you move the sword, it will only kill him. You are making progress, but he's bleeding so much blood...

"I clipped a artery, don't you know?" The doctor chuckles absurdly, and coughs up a little blood. "At least I saved someone. Heh. Never thought I had it in me..." He reaches out for Silver, but he falls unconscious. Blood spurts from his wounds, his muscles relaxed further. His eyes are glassed over.


Failure by 1, difficulty 6. 7 lethal levels sustained.


Eighth Echo and Black Bone's caste marks start to bleed, proclaiming them as princes of the underworld. A huge spike of death essence is somewhere near. Massive. It is... nostalgic.

Blackbird's caste mark bleeds as well, but she recognizes this energy. This is no mere great ghost, or working of death. It is the pall of a Abyssal Exaltation. A black spark that draws light from the world, draining creation of energy and drawing it ever closer to entropy. It enters the tent, invisible to all that do not draw power from death or see with essence.

Invincible

You feel a rush of terrible, horrible feeling as pure hatred flows into your soul. You have defied one that you have sworn true service, and you shall be punished.


[roll0] yay, 1 resonance


Your mistress's displeasure taints your soul. It is another link of chain for you to add to your bond. It is yet another reminder of her terrible hold on your soul.

The Lion is quiet for a moment, and then he laughs a loud, empty laugh. It resonates within the empty hall in the empty souls of his demesne. "BEND THE KNEE, DEATHKNIGHT, IF YOU CHOSE SO. SWEAR YOUR ALLEGIANCE, IF IT PLEASES DEATH."

[Turalisj]

Entropy

Andromalius watched the black exaltation take hold and swore under his breath.

"Hey Lunar, how much do you know about the abyssal exalted?" He said. Even as he spoke, he prepared himself for any post-second breath rampages. He remembered the aftermath of his own exaltation....

[Gargulec]

'NO!' she needed not her eyes to see in this very moment, lines of essence made clear to her for a heartbeat, for long enough for her to realize what was going on. Someone was going to make the very same mistake she had made not so long ago. Someone was to fall to the very same lie.

As she rushed, in that singular moment of clarity, she considered what she wanted to do. It was going to be a declaration, for sure. Probably a step on the road that has neither end nor a possibility of return.

Stumbling blindly, she fell to the ground before the tent, feeling the moment of the Black Miracle draw closer.

She had no time to lose.

'Whoever you are' she cried 'don't listen, don't damn yourself to the dark fate. It is not worth it!'

Her anima exploded in a swarm of butterflies, all seeking the dying one, the one that was about to do something fundamentally wrong.

'Pass in peace!' she begged, trying to raise to her feet. She would not allow this to happen.

Creation was tainted enough!


This is probably the moment that makes Blackbird incompatible with Deathlord's agenda. Shame.

Charisma+Presence+10m on First Excellency+Compassion channel to coerce Misho into denying the Black Exaltation's offer.
[roll0]

[Recaiden]

[Entropy]

This one wipes away a few drops of blood from the dark circle on her forehead, futile, and then slips on and fastens her jacket, draws a punching blade in her left hand. "It is come. We should be there, in that place of life-now-death. Our Lady has waited this while; a few moments more is nothing."
Echo turns and runs for the tent, to rush through the door in a moment.

[Grim ranger]

Invincible

Despite the horrible rage of betrayal eminating to his very soul from his mistress, Visage smiles triumphantly behind his mask. The sheer rage of his undying, terrible patron threatens to break his mind apart, but he weathers it, much like he has done with previous punishments Lover has inflicted upon him. This, despite being quite excruciating for him, is reminder of the fact that he is now one step closer to freedom. True, he is doing naught but exchanging one leash for another, but in his book it is still a victory.

Letting a cynical laughter echo through his thoughts and faintly through the connection he still shares with the Lover, Visage shakes his slightly smoking robes and does at Lion asks, bending to one knee. Pressing his gloved hand over his chest right above the heart, he begins saying the words he knows will make Lover determined to retrieve or kill him and torture his soul for all eternity if she will have her way. Still, it is one single act of defiance he has done directly against her, and it feels...good.

For the whip of his mistress reminds him that he is still free, in a sense. He is maybe chained to the dead, but he can still defy his masters, if he is willing to suffer the consequences.

"I, Shifting Visage of Endless Night, Servant of the Neverborn, thus revoke my oath to my previous liege, Lover Clad in Raiment of Tears. I deny her power over me, I deny her rule over what I control, and I deny her right to remain as herald of Oblivion. My bonds of servitude to her are, from here on, broken."

Suffering through the rage of the Lover, he continues, his voice rising as if in challenge to Lover, who is still holding the chain to his soul. Challenge...and mockery. "In addition, I hereby pledge myself to the service of the First and the Forsaken Lion, until the endless Void consumes all. What powers and skills I have at my disposal are now his to command, whatever task I will be commanded to do I will do without hesitation. I will not deceive him, nor allow him to be deceived... And should I fail in my appointed tasks, I will give myself up to his judgement. My loyalty will be his."

Taking a deep breath that sends small cloud of icy mist from his mouth, Visage braces himself, preparing for the inevitable explosion of wrath from his now former mistress. "All this I swear under the eyes of my new liege, and on my soul."

[Guancyto]

Entropy

And suddenly, this woman bursts into the tent. Silver takes a moment to process everything going on. "You talking to me? I don't know ****," she grits her teeth, answering Andros. Had the Sidereal directed her here to prevent this? To witness it? Or to...

"You going to help him survive or what?" she asks the other newcomer, blazing with necrotic essence and beseeching... someone to do something. Confusing girl. "If you aren't, get out of my way." She brushes past, looking around the outside of the tent. "hey, is there another doctor around? This one's fading fast," she calls out.

[Gargulec]

'That one is dying' she sneers back, allowing the Lunar to see her caste mark in its full glory. 'And about to make a worst mistake a living man can. So STEP BACK' her voice raised only a small bit 'and allow him to die in peace, so that he will be rewarded for his deeds as he immerses himself in the waters of Lethe.'

[Turalisj]

Entropy

"Get back in here before you draw the damned immaculates and then we'll really have a ****storm on our hands. He's at the doorstep of death. You can't see it, but there's an energy, an exaltation, forming around him. The most you can do for him now is wait and see what he chooses." Andromalius said. Even as he spoke, the orbs that circled him in secret danced around, ready to defend their master.

[Volthawk]

"That would likely be a good idea." Black Bone also rushes to the tent, even more so once he heard Blackbird's cry.

[Gargulec]

'Shut up, you fool, for you have no idea on what you are speaking about'

Her anima darkened the tent with its bleak glory, blood was literally streaming down her face. And she seemed both furious and terrified at this time.

'Let him pass!'

[Guancyto]

Silver looks at Blackbird like she just asked where lake fish disappear to in the winter. "Yeah, to the sodding void with that, he's not finished yet," she says flatly before going outside, noting the advantages of having her tattoos and tell covered and not being distinguishable from a normal human. "Hey! Man dying over here! Anybody want to take a swing at it?"

[Volthawk]

Black Bone walks into the tent, standing behind Blackbird, his caste mark bleeding through his Grey Mantle. "Be quiet. If he is offered the Exaltation, he will accept or decline it out of his own will, not with you influencing him. That's how it works."

[Turalisj]

Entropy

"Someone better go get that woman, before she draws a crowd. We wouldn't want half the city seeing you two bleeding like stuck pigs, now would we?" Andromalius said, indicating the foreheads of the two deathknights.

[Recaiden]

And suddenly this other woman bursts into the tent.
"Leave him alone, traitor! If he values his craft he will die. If he has hope or wisdom, he will join us. Leave your lies out of it. WE yet live. In Lethe and rebirth, there is nothing for him."
Echo looks down at the dying doctor.
"I can't help him. I think it's too late. There is only his choice."

[Guancyto]

Seeing no one wanting to help but oh so many wanting to see him die (or not die, as the case may be), Silver heads back inside the tent. "Right. No offense, chickie, but with that light show you're throwing around, you're going to be up to your ears in Immaculates anyway, and then it won't matter who took what exaltation or whatever," she says to Blackbird. She moves over to Melusine and lifts him onto her back again. "Have fun with that."

Defend ze other on my ward, preparing to skedaddle.

[Volthawk]

"Wait. How do we know you won't go running to the Immaculates anyway, making it worse for us?"

[Turalisj]

Entropy

"Because running to the monks is the last thing a lunar like her would want to do."

[Volthawk]

"Oh, Lunar. Right."

[Guancyto]

Silver unwraps the bandages on one of her arms, revealing a tattooed bracer of moonsilver with more silver patterns trailing from it up her arm.

"Yeah, they'd kill me too," she says, curling the bandages back to where they were and walking over to the doctor. "If he accepts, I'm taking him and leaving, I still need him for a little while yet. If you want to come with me, feel free. Anyone got a problem with that?"

[Volthawk]

"Well, if his master would be the Lion or the Princess, he should come with us."

[Turalisj]

Entropy

"If he accepts, then he will not be as he once was. All of us here have been given great power. He might not wish to help you. He might decide that the best way to heal the man you carry on your back is to end his suffering."

[Guancyto]

Entropy

"And if that happens, I'll take my charge and leave and he can end suffering all he wants somewhere else. I'm just borrowing him for a day or two. After that," Sil glances at Black Bone Savant and repeats his words, "if his master would be the Lion or the Princess... I'll let him go with you, if he likes. I kind of suspect you're going the same way I am the next couple of days, on account of that being 'any way but here.' Sound fair?"

[Orosboru]

Entropy

It is familiar to some, alien to another, and twisted to the last. To those that are bonded to death, it is close to them as their hearts. To those that are bonded to strange gods, it is strange and coercive, and too familiar. To those that are bonded to nothing to survival, it is a pit in the soul, a inversion of things that they once guarded. It is exaltation. It is bliss. It is the twists of life and death, ensuring the ultimate end by forestalling it forever.

Her cry of terror, his patient, his life is so far from him. It is so distant, so far. "...Lyanna?" But he was dying, and his lungs were empty of air to say. The whispers of the netherborn can be heard by those who can hear it. It calls.


(Hey, your characters don't hear this. It's for exposition! Lol.)
I AM THE ENGINE OF DESTRUCTION.

"Who..."

BE PLEASED, MORTAL, FOR YOUR DEATH SHALL HASTEN MY COMING. I AM BUT A ECHO, A SHADOW OF THINGS TO COME. I AM POTENTIAL WASTED, A POTENTIAL FUTURE.

"I don't understand. What..."

IT DOES NOT MATTER. DO YOU WISH TO LIVE, AND SPREAD HAVOC IN MY NAME?

"I..." he looked at himself. "It was my time, my destiny to die there, wasn't it?"

THE STARBORN HAVE CUT YOUR SPAN SHORT. YOU ARE A HARBINGER OF THEIR END. MY END. AS END HAPPENS BEFORE ALL THINGS.

"You are dead, or aren't you?"

THE WORLD IS INFINITE. WE CREATED IT SO. I MAY HAVE DIED EONS BEFORE NOW, OR I MAY HAVE NEVER DIED.

Misho tightened his face. "What you say confuses me. Am I dying?"

IF YOU CHOSE NOT TO SERVE ME, IT IS A DYING DREAM OF A NOBLE MAN, REFUSING HIS LAST TEMPTATION. IF YOU DO, IT IS NOTHING. ALL THINGS CHANGE. ALL THINGS END. LET ME SHOW YOU.

The shadowy avatar and Misho were taken to a scarred battlefield, filled with pointed wire and shattered bodies. IF THE STARS LIE, AND THE LIVING TRIUMPH OVER THE NETHERBORN, THIS IS THE FUTURE. THIS IS THE INEVITABLE CONSEQUENCE OF SLAYING THAT WAS NEVER MEANT TO DIE.

"Over the top, men. Over the top." A strange man speaks to soldiers, holding some form of staff. They charge, and are cut down by a invisible force. The entire plain is grey with smoky ash and dying men. The deathly essence is transcendent.

"Why show me this, strange creature?" Misho surveyed around. "Why do this?"

THERE IS A REASON THAT YOU WERE NAMED THE NAME YOU WERE. IT IS NOT A COINCIDENCE. THERE ARE NO CONSEQUENCES THAT COME BY CHANCE. The battlefield faded away, and only darkness remained. CHOSE NOW. ETERNAL LIFE FOR ETERNAL SERVICE. The spark orbits his fist. Time to decide.

Misho turned away. "I lived a good life, didn't I? I helped everyone I could."

YES. YOU HAD A GOOD LIFE.

Misho faced the majesty of clockwork, of endlessly grinding gears. "I'll never see the sun and stars again, never hear the birds sing, or people smile. I cannot do these things, but I am content. I will not go with you."

IF THAT IS YOUR WISH. THE DESIGN MOVES ON...

And then Misho returned to life, but only to die.

The exaltation swirls around, seemingly disappointed, circling the deathknights curiously. Around the Lunar, it swirls three times before it is banished by the first rays of sun. A small crack of light shines on the doctor.
His bleeding slows, and his senses return to him. He gasps. Whatever happened to him, whatever words there were to tempt him, he did not accept. He breathes shallowly, not moving. And then he begins to die again.


two lethal levels into dying.


"..Si...lver." He manages to get out.

Invincible
"SO IT BE." The Lion roars in approval. The rage of your former master starts to claw at you, but it stops. Your new master has raised his hand in a dismissive gesture. "NONE MAY PUNISH MY SERVANTS WITHOUT MY CONSENT. LET IT NOT BE SAID THAT I AM A UNJUST LORD."

Yay, no resonance for either of you!

"Shifting Visage of Endless Night, and The Requiem to the Carp that Shed its Scales, I WILL HOLD YOU TO YOUR OATHS, FOR I HAVE A TASK FOR YOU. IT IS A GREAT AND TERRIBLE ONE, EVEN FOR ONE SUCH AS ME. THIS IS A COURTESY, FOR ONCE YOU HEAR IT, YOU MUST ENBARK ON ITS FINISHING OR ELSE BE SLAIN. DO YOU SO CHOSE TO DO SO?

[Guancyto]

Silver watches. She can't hear the voice, can't hear the true nature of the offer. But she understands well enough what's involved. She bites her lip. Her face hardens. This is the merciless nature of Creation, to sweep away that which is innocent and make way for those that can persist in an uncaring world not created for its inhabitants.

No.

This is how things are, because this is how things mus-no. No, this is not the expression of elemental forces, or the caprice of gods, and probably not even the workings of Fate. This is the doing of one Lunar Exalted by the name of Silver Claw, who punched one man when she should've punched two.

No.

This will not stand. Not while she's still here. Not while she can still fix this.

"You. You almost managed it. Help me. We can't move him, but we have to stanch the bleeding," she says to Andros, picking up the cloth and wine again, determination in her face.

"You. He refused because of you, he won't die because of you. Uvanavu. The god of health. Pray," she says to Blackbird, tossing the doctor's moonsilver spectacles to her. "Sacrifice these if you have to."

"If one of you wants to help, he had poppy juice. Find it. If he has any alchemical reagents, find those too. If you don't, keep back."

She grits her teeth. She has enough experience with swords through the gut from having been stabbed repeatedly, and although she has no medical training, long experience and the unmatched brilliance of the Lunar Exalted can cure many things.

It remains to be seen if a sword to the gut is one of them.

Gogogo teamwork! Teamwork benefits may be adding successes together (in the case of additive teamwork) or increasing the diepool by 1 (in cases where each person cooperating would get in the other's way). Not sure which this would be.

Intelligence 4 + 4 dice from Intelligence excellency from Personal, plus 0 Medicine, and channelling Conviction if possible.

My own contribution to the pool is 13 dice, then. [roll0] - 4 successes, really hoping for a stunt on that. D: Anyone who wants to chip in on that, hey, who's never saved a mortal literally on death's doorstep before?

[Volthawk]

BLack Bone looks on. "Why are you making all this effort? He turned down the Exaltation, his chance at life. He's pretty much dead already."

[Gargulec]

Blackbird, if could, would be starring at the Lunar with a mixture of awe, disbelief and an utter shock.

'Shut up and bow to you better' she murmurs to Black Bone, strangely light on inside. What the Lunar was attempting was magnificent beyond words. And worth all that. Easily.

She knelt on one knee, placing the spectacles in front of her, her anima unfurling again, thousands upon thousands of indigo butterflies almost eclipsing the sun.

'Unnavu' she intoned, her words both a prayer and a song most magnificent 'I did not know your name until today, yet here I pray to you as fervently as I can, giving everything I can. I ask not for a grace for myself, but for a follower of yours who earned it. I ask you not because I want to use him, but I do so because he deserved that. He is a man of virtue and purity so rare in this age, he is a proof that Creation is worth fighting for, the proof I was looking for. And I ask you because I know that you will listen. And even unsure if you will act, I dare to hope. Unnavu, I swear by all that is holy, by the Five Dragons, by the Five Maidens, by the shifting face of Luna and purity of the sun, if you spare him, I will never again question whether there is something worth fighting for, and I will give all my soul and power to restore the Age past, even if that would cost me all I have. Especially then.'


Prayer roll. Channelling Compassion (last channel, I think), 10m on excellency, 3 die from speciality, for entire prayer was sung.

[roll0]

And screw you, sometimes you have to go iconic.

[Guancyto]

"My fault. Needed to kill all of them. Didn't think I'd have to. It was weakness," Sil says to Black Bone Savant, not looking up from her work, "I fix my mistakes, even if it means burning the world. Are you going to help or not?"

[Gargulec]

'I am not finished' murmured Blackbird.

Not raising from the ground, she allowed the blood from her caste mark to drip liberally on the ground before intoning one more prayer.

'You who saved me when I was still human, a humble sage, a doctor who wanted nothing in turn for your service, and died trying to save those you could not, and yet lingered to save them, I beckon you. By the authority given to me, I call for you. Wherever you are, come and help one of your kind. Show that you are what you still were.'


3m for Eulogy For The Fallen to call out a doctor that saved Lyanna when she was young and later died trying to cure a plague, stunting around the lack of name. If he responds, drawing him in for 17 motes, which also makes me kind of mote-tapped.

[Volthawk]

Black Bone thinks for a moment. Having a decent relationship with this Lunar could prove useful. "Alright. Have you got any medical experience?"

[Turalisj]

Andromalius shook his head. "I do not. I am merely a travelling merchant who had the unfortunate luck of running into a lunar and a group of deathknights."

'And a habitual liar, coward, drinker, and skirt chaser.'

'Silence you.'

[Guancyto]

"A lot of experience getting stabbed," Sil cracks a grin despite herself, "Counts for something, right? I'm hoping you've got more. There are, um," she looks around at the corpses also on the floor, "plenty of parts around if that helps?"

[Orosboru]

"silver." he says in the smallest voice you'e heard from a man. "don't let me die alone." His eyes are fogged over with the emptiness of death. "please don't leave me..."

"I HAVE BEEN CALLED." A spectral man appears, and recognizes your anima banner of swirling dark butterflies, sucking in the light of the dark room and darkening the entire place. "A FAVOR HAS BEEN REQUESTED. WHAT SHALT I DO?"

It's now or never! There isn't much time left to talk. You have seven successes, versus a probable 9 for retrying.

[Volthawk]

"Yes, I do." Black Bone steps up to the dying doctor, grabbing the tools he might need, and gets to work on the doctor, a little of his Essence being used up while he works to enhance his work.



Using my Second Excellency for an extra success.
Intelligence+Medicine: [roll0]+1 success, total of 5 successes.

[Gargulec]

'Heal the wounded doctor, or help to heal him, working to the best of your abilities.'

[Orosboru]

"I SHALL DO AS YOU COMMAND." the ghostly doctor, green with plague, works his work.

[roll0]
wow... you have a good doctor.

[Recaiden]

"He was dedicated enough to choose death. Will you not let him take it in peace?"
Well...nobody needs this crippled mugger in the corner, right? If he were to be killed and drained of blood, say?

[Grim ranger]

Invincible

Feeling the hatred of his former mistress being brushed off him by the will of his new master, Visage breathes out deeply, relaxing once again... At least somewhat. He has no doulbt that Lover will try to retrieve him by any means necessary, but now that he has chosen to directly defy and fight her, he is content in the knowledge he will be able to send arrows through the faces of anyone trying to drag him back, and do so with impunity.

Raising back to his feet, the deathknight looks at Lion before nodding. "I swore to serve, and I intend to do so. I choose to do so, general, and will die before leaving my task unfinished."

[Orosboru]

Entropy
17 successes - 2 over par!

It is beautiful. How easy it is to give death to those that deserve it, but not life to those that need it. The Lunar keeps him steady, removing the sword. The prayer manifesting in material form, wounds reknitting and blood stopping. The Abyssal neurosurgeon carefully stitching his shattered nerves together with practiced ease. The ghostly doctor, dead of plague, reaching into his patient without disrupting the other's work. You have accomplished the impossible. You have stayed death.

The hate and rage of the Neverborn race into your cold hearts...

[roll0] Gargulec
[roll1] Volt lol, no resonance for you.


It was a battle on another battlefield - waging war to save a man's life. It is a moment of tranquillity. It is a moment of redemption.

And then he starts bleeding from the throat.
"Silver? Lyanna? Where are you?" He looks confused and afraid as he dies a final death. "please don't leave me...

[Guancyto]

Entropy

Silver bows her head. Between the four of them, she doubts even the likes of the Unconquered Sun could have done better to treat him. And whatever had killed him wasn't something of her design.

"Rest, then," she says, taking his hand as the life fades from him. Retrieving his moonsilver spectacles, she puts them on and takes a look. Maybe she can figure out what happened...

...but she doesn't tarry long, regardless. "Thank you both," she nods to Blackbird and Savant. "I'm in your debt. We should go."

[Volthawk]

Black Bone nods. "Very well." Although his clothing conceals it, he is smiling. The best result - having the Lunar feel grateful towards him, yet not allowing the doctor to live to help others fight the inevitably of death.

[DukeGod]

Invincible
"Be slaaaaain? My oooath? You talk like I was your ser...vant, Lion"

Requiem shows his fury, but barely raises his voice. Instead he seems to make everyone make some effort, to slightly bow towards him as to hear what he has to say. His semblant changes, from the mad-looking yet handsome prince, he goes to being a former king as he truly was. A terrifying majesty, standing defiant. He took away all the fear from the people, from him himself was not afraid nor could show the slightest trace of it. But even worse, not having the fear clouding one's mind, they could even more easily feel despair, cold minds telling them that instead of standing shaking, they should be running

"How...daaaare you"

Action explodes. Requiem's anima shows even more force than before, the dragon dancing around. Thingy does't have to think twice before quickly distancing himself from him. The simhata knew better than to stay by his side during his fury. Requiem raises his voice a little bit more but now it sounds closer to a roar. When he speaks, the soulsteel soon follows with an echo. His voice is also in the minds of those who can hear the Neverborn. The voices of the Neverborn too randomly join and disappear from the sounds that come from his mouth

"I will not toleeerate such spee...ch, Lion. All who know me...hear very well. I am death...knigt to none! You're all but the one I chose to heeelp. The one most likely to advan...ce my plans! Go back on thy words...annd aaaaask me to take part on the mission! ASK!"

Seriously? What do I have to roll to scare everyone =D? I'm probably burning motes to use the Excellency at it's maximum. Then I'll burn another one to jumpstart my anima to totemic since sadly, I doubt the amount I can spend will reach that point
And then, a virtue channel of Valor to add even more dice
Oh, and if there's a stunt, it goes there aswell
That baby is so damaged for life...

[Turalisj]

Entropy

Silver bows her head. Between the four of them, she doubts even the likes of the Unconquered Sun could have done better to treat him. And whatever had killed him wasn't something of her design.

"Rest, then," she says, taking his hand as the life fades from him. Retrieving his moonsilver spectacles, she puts them on and takes a look. Maybe she can figure out what happened...

...but she doesn't tarry long, regardless. "Thank you both," she nods to Blackbird and Savant. "I'm in your debt. We should go."

"Ah, lady Sil, if you would be so kind as to let me see those. I would like to examine those glasses. I will take only a few hours and I can return them when I have finished."

[Recaiden]

[Entropy]

"He chose death. Why did you try to keep him?" This one steps up to the dying man and looks down at his face. "Though...tell me, Misho, is the wind or the water free? Me or you?"
And then she steps in behind the others if they move to go.

[Guancyto]

"And just who are you, anyway?" the newly bespectacled Silver asks Andros, busy attuning to them even as she picks up her ward and gets ready to depart. "No."

"He got stabbed defending my ward, when I wasn't fast enough to," she explains, noting that the girl wasn't there to see it, "I wasn't going to let that pass without trying to do something. Miss... Lyana, would you need help escaping?"