Waves Upon Still Water IC

[AgentIndy]

Waves Upon Still Water

Even in the scattered archipelagos of the West, civilization still survives in these pockets. In between these islands though, is the domain of pirates and adventurers. Outside of the control of theRealm ,men and women of fortune thrive on the open seas. Unfortunately, both this carefree lifestyle, and the cradles of civilization that are on the islands are watched by the hateful eye of the Silver Prince, despising how they are not under his rule...yet. His fleet is nearly finished. His victory will be assured, unless someone rises up to confront his navies.

Even farther away, is She Who Lives In Her Name, wanting to make everyone in the West conform to a proper way of living. Her Infernal Exalted commanding the Akuma and demons in her control, working to eliminate the scions of the open sea, who have proven themselves to be proficient at spreading the principles of freedom. Their current target is the Captain of the Ebon Flow, Jeb Alysis.

Jeb has made a stop at Horizen, a city built on the ruins of a First Age city, with a population of a few thousand people. His ship, the Ebon Flow, is a huge ship, probably a relic of the Shogunate, or maybe even a lesser artifact of the First Age. It possesses a huge essence cannon, and an engine that propels it across the ocean. *Its power source is unknown though, and Jeb intends to keep it that way.

The city of Horizen is massive for an island city. It lies between the borders of the Realm and the holdings of the Silver Prince, and is a vital restocking point for traveling ships. Fate has conspired to bring together the chosen, the Exalted of several different kinds, to the dock market of Horizen. Jeb Alysis is looking for additional people to put on his crew...

The Exalted find them selves themselves in the market of Horizen, with dozens of stalls lined trying to sell things. The Ebon Flow is at the pier, loading up supplies. *

This normally calm day is shaken by the sound of an explosion inside the market. A stall lies in flames, and a sailor with the Ebon Flow's crest on his shoulder lies on the ground severely injured. Any one in the market can hear this.

[Orosboru]

Sierra

We're at a crossroads, aren't we?

The thing about certain points in time is that we're never quite sure when we're tumbling down the roads of no return. And when I say this, I mean return to the exact state of ignorance and lack of obligation which can be summed up as "Why do I care?"

And the answer is simple and cruel. Destiny is your clingy, desperate ex-boyfriend, who stalks you in the night and sends weird messages in your dreams. Coincidentally meeting you in cafes and parks and dramatic lightning storms. Calling, the adventure does like a mysterious siren... if you want to or not.

"Mori," I look down at my familiar, who is protectively hidden under a tea cosy. "Let's go."

...

I don't want you looking at me.

I've seen Exalts dress in the manner they have grown to be accustomed to. Ostentatious reds and greens and dark, earthen colours designed to project and amplify their natural confidence. Some have hues of gold and dark steel. Rather than hide their glory, they want to show it to the entire world.

If there's another kind, I haven't seen them. And I think they want to keep it that way.

You'll look over me in a crowd. You won't see me proclaimed by any heralds. I am hidden in plain sight - for being so plain. Veils, hoods, large robes, the assumption of meekness is useful to me - for I am not worth to be bothered or disturbed. This has its own troubles... but they are trifling. My wit must keep up with it.

But look under my veil, I am scarred. Many assume it to be the result of a pox. This usually dissuades any persistant guard or onlooker.

I... am not pleasing to look at. It is something that I have gotten used to.

...

Mori is my father's skull. But not my father's spirit.

He speaks in low voices, hushed, one ear to the dead and one to the living. Sometimes I gaze into his empty sockets and I see what I imagine to be my mother's face. The rotten scent of the sea rushes over me, and I imagine a cold hand slowly choking my arms, the veins bulging and my hand going white.

We speak not often enough. I ask him where he comes from, and he tells me I already know.

...

The trail has run cold.

I must book passage out of this island. Horizon is not the place. Definitely.

I see the girl-children hide under the protective shadow of their younger brothers, staring as the men go out to sea. Call it as you will, there is a certain romanticism about patronizing patriarchs. Old and complaining, watching the younger men go after the glory they never found. For they ask me which man owns me, and I have a ready answer, in truth, not in practicality. I say my master's name and they nod, approvingly. They see that a woman knows her place.

Mori chatters a little. I hush him.

They know nothing of a girl child lost twenty-one years ago.

There is a guilty look on the oldest one, and I catch his eye. He is not my father. He relates to me a tale of his first wife being barren for so long, but he loved her so that they kept trying and trying and there came a girl so sick-

He has more wives since, but his first left for the Tya and never came back to him.

I bow and leave my present to them at the door. It is my master's pipe collection with his tobacco that smells of preserving fluid. I can hear them smile and laugh as they return to their daily routine for the rest of their lives.

I walk out, and I start my search for a ship that will take me further into the West. I speak out destinations that are dangerous, in a quiet hushed voice. None will go so far for so little of what I have. Not as a passenger.

The Ebon Flow, however, needs crew. And although I might not have the jade... I have power. It must do.

...

"Boom."

A nearby stall erupts in flame. Everyone around is panicking, everyone is running away - the fire will spread if left unchecked - a sailor lies insensate, his life slowly leeching out of his body, drop by drop.

I have a decision to make.

[roll0] Compassion

Why do I care? People die every day in the Second Age, for small, shallow, stupid reasons. No need to get involved in the affairs of men that will bring me unwanted attention. Why...

...But he is from the Ebon Flow, and the word of a gracious survivor will be a boon in any contract. I walk past the fleeing bystanders, and I look at him with perfect eyes.

"Are you awake?"

Spending 1m for Flawless Diagnostic Technique.

[AgentIndy]

The sailor groaned,"Ugh, what happened...the stall keeper was getting me some grub, and this assistant came up...Had a piece of metal in his her hand...And then...I'm here..."

Sierra sees that he has 4 cracked ribs, burns all along his arms, a broken leg, a broken arm, shrapnel in his gut, along with minor internal bleeding. There is a man in an apron that is on the ground near him. Other shop keepers are working on putting out fires. Sierra also noticed that one wound on the sailor is not conventional, and seems to be necrotizing the flesh in his stomach.

[Ifni]

It's been some time since she walked on land. Or walked at all, for that matter. Flying, through water or air, is joy and speed and freedom: walking, on a mere two stolid legs, feels clumsy and awkward and snail-slow by comparison.

But if those who she fears don't have fins or gills or wings, nor do many who might be her allies. And it'll be good to speak aloud again. With a few exceptions, the inhabitants of the deep ocean are not scintillating conversationalists.

She'd come ashore in the moonlit night, silvery fishtail reforming into legs as she rose from the seafoam. Her trousers and shirt and coat had felt strange after so long, but surely the dry grave-scent on them was only her imagination. She'd found a secluded spot to weave her spell, tying the intricate knot of Anemone around her own unchanging heart. (The ignorant would say it's like shapeshifting, but they would be wrong.)

And so now Anemone walks through the marketplace, beaded sapphire braids clinking softly in the sea-breeze, turquoise eyes idly scanning the wares, with the assured saunter of a woman who sails where she wishes. A knife hangs sheathed on her hip, and her longcoat ripples a little in the breeze.

At the fire and explosion, she looks up sharply, and then leaps toward the stall. (Just a little faster than any mortal should be able to move.)

The fire is the first problem. The other shopkeepers are already working on putting it out, good. She reaches inside her coat, touching the yellow crystal concealed there.

Fire? The image of the bird in her mind - a small creature, its brown feathers banded with gold - flutters in consternation. Are there injured, Chosen? Quench it. She can sense Reeds-In-The-Evening-Wind's disapproval, and alarm; the sandpipers are creatures of the shore, of the salt breezes, of the cooling shallows of the bay, and fire is alien to her nature.

It will be done, Reeds, don't worry, Anemone replies silently, as she strides forward and reaches down to pass her other hand across the flames. She's fond of the little elemental, and grateful for her assistance, but she has a tendency to fret. (And perhaps you would too, if you were bound and unable to act save through someone else, her conscience chides her.) Sand flows from the space between her fingertips, smothering the hottest coals.

Once she's confident the fire is not going to burn out of control immediately, she turns to the injured - and the veiled woman tending to the sailor. "How badly is he hurt? And this one..." She goes to crouch beside the man in the apron, checking to see if he's conscious.

There's no hesitation in her voice. Anemone is beautiful, with a poised and commanding presence. It's enjoyable to be Anemone, at least for a time.

Drawing on the Sandpiper's ability to make sand, to help put out the fires. If this isn't going to be enough, let me know, I have some other tricks. I have Hardness from my armor so am unlikely to get burned in the process.

[Obscurejones]

Malfeas is certainly a charger. To do any less would be to act with restraint. Restraint is for those who can be held back. Malfeas can never be bound to anything less then the sum total of his magnificence. He is a dancer as well. But that's less applicable at the moment.
Ganyard charges towards the explosion flinging aside civilians as he moves. A few may break a bone or two or three or seventeen, but he's in a hurry. They should have moved. As he charges he runs down the usual suspects.
Explosion could be: fire aspect, Firedust, a Dawn caste of significant power. High powered essence weaponry likely. Possibly necrotech.
You left out algarel.
Hells bells!
It is allowed. You are learning, Prince.

Malfeas is also a shouter. He bellows forth his commands. He is not shy. Why should he yield to the comfort of others? He is their superior, and their attention is his by right. So listen up. Closely. Pay attention. Lest the Lord of Hell be forced to grab your attention by the throat and beat it into submission.
Landing in the square with a triumphant crash, the grey haired Slayer throws back his head and screams. Flames pour from his mouth wreathing his head and forming into a crown.
"You who harmed these people come forth and face me!"
Not sure what the roll would be for that, boss. But in any case it's automatically UMI.

[Orosboru]

Sierra

"You've been injured. Badly. There has been a explosion." A metal object, huh? Very specific... You have a wound on your abdomen that is making your flesh die. It needs to be removed by a surgeon, which I am not." I look more closely at the necrotized wound. Is there any foreign shrapnel within that is causing the decay?

Years of training kick in as I methodically treat his wounds, the short supply of antiseptics and bandages in my kit proving barely sufficient to make sure that his limbs do not go further out of alignment. Stray bits of wood are easily plucked out by the forceps, but I leave the metal alone for now. "What's your name..?"

[roll0] Int+Medicine

I say as a veritable supernova erupts next to me. Great. A idiot. I spare a glance at the shopkeeper, or, perhaps, a assassin with a apron. What's his condition?

Again, Flawless Diagnostic Technique.

And the fear kicks in. It is stomached, and held aside.

"Who are you?"

A question posed to everyone, and no one.

[Ifni]

"I go by Anemone. Can't advise you as to Mr Obvious there, though. And you? You're a healer?" The blue-haired woman glances briefly at Sierra before her gaze is drawn back to the shouting man crowned with green fire.

Her eyes narrow as she studies the hue of that flame. Remembering the chill light of deep-sea trenches, and mists on the horizon that move against the wind, and the spells that her teacher once spoke of so casually, in a time before she was a sorceress.

"Well, maybe he'll flush someone out, anyway." She nods to Sierra's patients. "Are either of them in danger of imminent death? I have some access to healing magic."

Rolling Int+Occult to recognize the Malfean essence Ganyard is using, if that's an Obvious effect?

[roll0] Int+Occult.
+[roll1] possible stunt if applicable.
EDIT: 7 sux before stunt. So that might be "Soooo, Malfean fire..."

[AgentIndy]

The man in the apron is breathing, but his breaths are shallow. Anemone finds that he is struggling to remain conscious,"Wait, why am I...Who was that..." The cook starts babbling on. Much of what he says is not related to the matter at hand, but he mentions once that he is too poor to even hire an assistant to help him in his middling age.

Ganyard scares a fair number of people, but some gather around. Most had only heard of demons in stories, so there was some curiosity. Even with the magical challenge, none stepped forward. It seems that either the culprit can resist such challenges or has fled the scene.

Sierra sees that the shrapnel is the epicenter of the decayed flesh. It is spreading out in a sphere from the metal bit lodged inside. The medical attention goes smoothly, the sailor seems less critical now. He says,"I'm Trent, I am a sailor on the Ebon Flow."

The man in the apron is in a similar condition. Burns along the face, hip bone is shattered, multiple pieces of shrapnel in the side, along with several unusual wounds, namely two knife wounds, and a toxin is in his bloodstream. He appears to be in critical condition, and is wavering in and out of hysteria.

Anemone recognizes the fire as that of Malfeas.

[Obscurejones]

"...Damn."
The fire fades as the command fails to fall upon the proper ears. Ganyard lunges slightly towards the nearest members of the gathering crowd, driving them back as he bares his teeth, giving the healers more room to work.
Failure is beneath us.
It should have worked. We arrived too late.
Should I request more speed from the Silent Wind?
...I'll be faster on my own, thank you.
After a few more lunges and a cursory reach towards the menacing bundle strapped across his back, Ganyard turns from the crowd to the injured.
"Are they badly hurt?"

[Orosboru]

What sort of metal causes flesh to rot? A intriguing mystery, but for now, she has another patient. Sierra reaches into her inner well of strength to quickly halt his rapidly decaying condition.

"My name... is Sierra." I turn to the Water Aspect. "This man needs your help. He has knife wounds, and he seems to be suffering from some sort of poison. I can treat his mundane wounds, but there's something... strange."

"Hey - calm down. You've been the victim of a explosion. I'm a medic, and I'm here to help you. You're going to be okay."

[roll0] Manipulate + Presence

His condition is really bad. Don't let him know that, though. A nonsterile environment is no place for sutures. The best I can do is hold his wounds together until more help arrives. Normally, I'd leave the metallic shards in - but they seem to be the root of the problem. After dealing with his blast wounds I extract the foreign material, laying them down in a thick layer of gauze.

[roll1] int + medicine + 4 excellency

I look up to the glowing, green man.

"They need a actual doctor, but hopefully, they'll live, for now..." I avoid his gaze and look to the first patient.

"You have weird enemies, Trent. Do you know why someone would target you?"

[AgentIndy]

The man in the apron calms down a fair amount,"Ok-okay..." his eyes are bloodshot, and there aren't any knife wounds on his front, only on his back.

The removal of the metal went well, any time they got close to Sierra's skin, there was a sense of 'wrongness' emanating from it. The Solar is not affected by the necrotic effect.

Trent closed his eyes, struggling to remember what had happened,"I...was here to recruit this chef...into the crew...usually my captain recruits people personally, but he had to do maintenance on the ship, so I was sent. Maybe they were targeting Captain Alysis. I'm just a deck hand."

[Ifni]

"Maybe. Why were you trying to recruit this man, in particular?" Anemone kneels down beside the chef, studying his wounds, as around her the sand continues to coalesce out of nothingness, slowly smothering the flames. "Let me see what I can do. Sierra, please hold on to those metal fragments, we might be able to tell something from them."

The Exalt closes her eyes, and passes her hand slowly over the wounds, pausing at the man's shattered hip. The air around her freshens with a cool breeze bearing the salty scent of the sea, and the whistling cries of shorebirds. A soft pearly glow surrounds her hand as she presses two fingers gently to the man's flesh, and for a moment a mottled brown-and-gold feather-pattern shines softly on his skin. Her own moonlight-and-seafoam power, channeled and shaped through the little sandpiper's compassion for the hurt.

Anemone opens her eyes, and looks down at the man, moving Sierra's dressings aside slightly to see the places where the wounds were. Her eyes narrow thoughtfully. "I can't heal all of this completely - some of the wounds, at least, are supernaturally inflicted, and will return when I have to release the Charm."

Through her hand that still clasps the yellow crystal, the vibration of a faint accusing chirping...

She sighs and moves to Trent. "And I suppose I'd better do the same for you." Again the power streams from her hand, mending broken bones and restoring bleeding wounds.

"Can you describe the 'assistant'?"

For the moment, she decides to ignore the... akuma? Demon? It doesn't seem immediately inclined to attack, and that suits her just fine for now.

Spending 1wp and 9m Personal Essence to heal the three levels of damage with Touch of Grace, from the Yasai Crystal. Committing the 9m for the moment; when it wears off at the end of the scene, the level of Aggravated damage will come back. Repeating this for Trent.

Personal Essence: 5/23 + 18 committed
WP: 8/10

[AgentIndy]

Trent blinked a few times, and then answered the question posed to him,"We were recruiting him since he was an excellent chef that had no connections here on Horizen. Still might try to get him, if he lives through this..." Trent pondered the other question, "She had a cloak, a hood I think. She had a metal sphere..."

The shopkeeper became coherent,"I don't have an assistant...how did she get behind me? There is only one entrance, and that's the front...Oh, pardon my manner, I am Tray, owner of this now ruined stall."

Ganyard can remember seeing a woman matching that description in the crowd from earlier.

[Orosboru]

Sierra
"Does your captain know that you are here? If he knows anything about what happened to you, we need to speak to him. More lives could be at risk."

I bundle up the metallic fragments as I look towards our... demonic protector? Interesting. I don't want to risk a fight - not now. But I must find out what exactly

"...I thank you for your assistance, sir. Sierra stands up and looks at the Infernal. "What is your name?"

Firing Mastery of Small Manners, gauging the motivations of the PCs and the two extras.

[Obscurejones]

Deception is beneath the King Of All. Deception implies consequences for the truth. A desire to conceal for ones own benefit from others. Malfeas is sufficient unto himself and desires nothing from others other than the honor that is due him.
"My name?"

That being said, don't be an idiot. Like the Ebon Dragon says, the truth is for suckers.
"Ganyard Wavebreaker of course! How can you not have heard of the king of all pirates, king o'er the seas? How sad for you to be so deprived."
Striking a pose legs akimbo and chest thrust out, Ganyard does his best great and I know it pose. It's still being refined but it's not half bad.

[Ifni]

Anemone stands up, buttoning her coat closed. "Tray? All right. I'm called Anemone. Thank you both for the information. I'm afraid I can't help much with the stall. You should both find somewhere to recover, for when those wounds reassert themselves. Tray, were you interested in working on the Ebon Flow?" She nods slightly at Sierra's words. "And Sierra, can I have a quick look at that shrapnel?"

Only then does she turn to Ganyard, to regard him with a lifted eyebrow. "King of all pirates? I can think of a few who might dispute that classification. But taking your words at face value - care to share the reason for your interest in these events?"

[Obscurejones]

"...I have need of a new ship. I had heard the Ebon Flow was in port. I need a vessel without need for wind. The Flow's mysterious drive would serve wonderfully. Even a king needs his tools."
A pause then. Hubris debates with propriety. And a burning desire not to infuriate the demon who shares his mind.
"Not that I wish to overthrow the current captain. I can do my work under his direction if need be. A king can be humble."

[Ifni]

Anemone steps closer to Ganyard, tilting her head back to meet his eyes. One hand drifts down to rest on the hilt of her knife. (And it might be mentioned at this point that her hands are both gloved in thin dark leather, and the fingers of the gloves are elongated, as if to accommodate long nails.) In a voice barely above a whisper she murmurs, "And for what work does an akuma need such a ship, Ganyard Wavebreaker? Or do you have another explanation for your use of Malfean Essence?"

Anemone has Manipulation 1, you see...

For Mastery of Small Manners, I've seen variation between STs on whether it gives capital-m Motivation or the target's goals in the scene. For Anemone, her capital-m Motivation is on her sheet. Her primary goal at the start of this scene was:
Find potential allies. Her current primary goal is:
Find out what's behind the explosion.

[Obscurejones]

Eyes of pale green flash with fiery light as they look back at Anemone. He is the picture of calm as he glares, sliding the case along his back down so that it rests near to his right hand.
"Take care little dragon spawn. There are some who would take offense at such a slur. I am no Akuma."
Tread lightly, Prince.
Malfeas does not tip-toe, Demon.
Ganyard's Current Motivation
Secure a Berth on the Ebon Flow
And general Motivation
To Turn His Infernal Monstrosity Towards Heroism

[Ifni]

Her voice is still so soft. Quiet and casual as a breezy crosswind, lifting spray from the waves; the first herald of a coming storm. "And some who might take offense at little dragon spawn." The 'Water Aspect' smiles humorlessly, a baring of gleaming white teeth. "Shall we set aside our mutual indignation for the moment? You didn't like that accusation, so surely you understand my concern. I recognized that green fire. And I note you did not answer either of my questions, Ganyard Wavebreaker. Set aside the first for the moment. Say I believe you. So what do you claim to be, besides a pirate king?"

Second Circle demon? Seems unlikely to be First, too individual, and they rarely take humanoid form anyway. I don't recognize him as any of the ones Coil mentioned...

[Obscurejones]

With a flick of a thumb the catch on Ganyard's weapon case slides open. A glint of twisting silver can be seen, shying from the light.
I am a sailor's son, a knight errant, and future admiral over the navies of the West. I am no threat to you unless you are exceptionally foolish, whelp. If you press the issue I am your demise. I would hope that is not necessary. It would be a shame to lose a potential vassal.
Sailor's son?
The bit works best in threes. Or would you rather I had said secret person of mass destruction and prince of Malfeas's armies?

[Orosboru]

Sierra

"Pardon a mortal for being so presumptious, but I do believe that what this man here is not an enemy. At least, not yet." Sierra's face is opaque behind layers of cloth and ceramic. "He is allowed his mysteries, is he not? As we all... are." I look at Anemone. "The truth, as ever it is, is a delicate thing. There is a mystery of a ugly sphere of death... and a wonderful ship and its captain at its core, woefully lacking in crew. And since obviously he doesn't want to tell you, unless you want to fight it out here and now, I'd suggest that you both play nice.

[AgentIndy]

Trent
Motivation:Earn the respect of Captain Alysis.

Tray
Motivation:Prepare food for a living, to support himself, and to honor his lost love

Trent was about to answer the question, but was interrupted by a new figure that walks into the scene,"Of course I know you are here." The man wore a great coat, with a flame piece at his side. In his hands was a tome, with a few papers jutting out of it, and there are a pair of glasses on his face,"Trent, take our new Galley chief to the ship," his glasses glow a bit,"And for you people...I am Captain Jeb Alysis."

[Obscurejones]

As the captain approaches the imperial bearing melts out of Ganyard. He replaces the haughty glare that he had turned on Anemone with a gentle grin. With a subtle gesture he closes his weapon's case and turns it so it slips back behind him.
"Good morning, Captain. Given the trouble that seems to be seeking you out I don't suppose you'd have use for another marine aboard your vessel? I'm a half decent sailor, not afraid to do heavy lifting, and I come with my own sword."
Despite his easy bearing, an angry roiling can be seen where his skin emerges from his jacket at the wrists. He reaches across to steady the movement with his other hand.
Kowtowing is beneath-
Would you rather we try to acquire a vessel prone to the whims of the wind?
...Noted.

[AgentIndy]

Jeb sighs a bit, "I may need another marine, but one of my men was nearly killed. When I figure what in the blazes is going on...."The book he is carrying is inscribed with many symbols...one of those symbols is the symbol of the Yozis.
"We'll talk when this investigation is over."

[Ifni]

"Ambitious," Anemone murmurs to Ganyard, still with that sharp-edged smile. "Later, then."

She steps away from the Infernal, with a slight nod to Sierra, and focuses her attention on Jeb Alysis. "You should make sure they have somewhere safe to recover; the worst of the wounds are supernatural, and will return when the magic ends. Have you had trouble like this before, Captain?"

She, too, eyes the book curiously.

[AgentIndy]

"Oh, I've had a fair share of attempts on my life. Servants of the demon lords are everywhere. Still...Trent, have Eb patch you up. I'll give you clearance to use our more...esoteric medical supplies." Jeb circles the scene, and sniffs the ground,"Vitriol. She Who Lives In Her Name must have tracked me here...It has only been a day. Need to be more careful." In his circling, the book shifts around a bit, showing off symbols of the Unconquered Sun, Luna, Gaia, the Five Maidens, the words themselves are still obscured.

Jeb breathes in the smell of the area,"Essence usage...Much more recent. Can't get a taste of what it originates from...Must collect samples.," He opens his tome, and small currents of wind carry dust particles into the pages,"Will analyze later. Now, tell me what happened here?"

[Ifni]

"You have interesting enemies, Captain." Anemone nods at the book. "You're a scholar?"

She removes her hand from her knife-hilt, and tucks her hands back inside her coat, toying absently with the crystal concealed there.

Pretty sure he's more than that.
Simple enough to test, Chosen. Chirruping laughter. Shall we?
You're as curious as I am.
But of course.

A drop of power, cast out into the world like a pebble skipping across a lake. Read the eddies, the echoes from those who stand nearby. Take their measure.

"As for what happened here... apparently a cloaked and hooded woman walked up with a metal sphere, which exploded in a shower of shrapnel. Sierra -" she nods at the veiled woman, "and I came over to tend to the injured. Ganyard demanded that the attacker come forward, apparently to little effect, and then came over to ask after the wounded."

"Ah, and I may have neglected to introduce myself. I'm called Anemone."

Measure the Wind! I get the Essence rating of everyone within a few yards (the range is yards = the sandpiper's Willpower, so somewhere between 5 and 10), their nature (e.g. whether they're an Exalt/spirit/ghost etc), and whether they are capable of killing a god permanently (e.g. with Ghost-Eating Technique).

[AgentIndy]

"Yes I am, I find myself drawn to esoteric knowledge..." He circles the blast radius again, "This is a a 15 foot blast radius. Localized explosive, last agent of the Yozi's used a flame piece. They are getting desperate. The cloaked woman...she is dangerous. Last time I saw her, she killed six members of my crew."

"Pleasure to make your acquaintance Anemone."

Jeb Alysis
Essence:3
Type:Mortal
God killing capability:No, at the moment

???
Essence:6
Type:Exalt/Malfean
God Killer:Yes

[Ifni]

... Luna protect us.

The reaction from the sandpiper is somewhat less coherent, a wordless panicked alarm-cry exploding silently in her mind.

"Pleased to meet you as well, Jeb. So how did you get on the wrong side of a Yozi? Or is that a story better left for later?"

Anemone nods to the veiled woman. "I believe Sierra saved the fragments of the metal shell, if you'd like to examine them. I have some occult knowledge myself but you're clearly more familiar with these weapons than I am."

As she turns to gesture at Sierra, she concentrates, trying surreptitiously to pin down the source of that terrifying Essence-signature. Does it lie in one of the bystanders nervously looking on or helping quench the fires, or is it hidden behind a stall or debris, or sourceless in the empty air? The ends of her "braids" curl just slightly, the disguised tendrils tasting the vibrations on the wind.

Measure the Wind grants a Perception+Wits roll to find hidden creatures within the range, and the difficulty is reduced by 2. The base difficulty is presumably set by the target's Dexterity+Stealth roll, if they're trying to hide. (This shouldn't be necessary if they've just changed their appearance and are observing as a bystander, but if they're actually hiding, I might be able to figure out where they are.)

Perception+Wits: [roll0]
Possible stunt: [roll1]

Personal Essence: 4/23 + 18 committed

[AgentIndy]

Jeb smirked,"That is a story for later..."He looks at the shards, and backs away. "I'll have to view these...Later."

There is a cloaked woman standing behind Jeb.

[Obscurejones]

With a slide and a flip, Ganyard's hand slides inside the waiting case Luna's Leftovers slithering into hand. As gently as he can, which granted is not particularly gentle, he moves to interpose himself between Jeb and the woman. Pushing Jeb forward towards Anenome and Sierra he holds his sword between himself and the cloaked figure. His voice is surprisingly soft as he speaks, just loud enough to be heard between the Captain and the Exalts.
"Behind you, Captain."
Defend other Action on Jeb.

[AgentIndy]

The woman in the cloak scowled, and waived her arm. A burst of smoke appeared, and she backed into the crowd. It becomes near impossible to discern where she is.

[Ifni]

Anemone gives Ganyard a flat look. "Thank you for warning her."

For a moment, her eyes go distant as she concentrates. Beneath the bones of her skull, unseen, silver-white Essence shapes new organs, clusters of specialized neurons connecting to patches of sensitized skin. Borrowed from the body-memory of shark-ness, to pick out the prey - or the hunter - wherever she attempts to hide.

She glances at the crowd of presumably innocent bystanders. "Perhaps we should continue this conversation elsewhere, since I concur that the one hunting you is very dangerous."

The supernaturally observant might note that her braids move almost imperceptibly, as if in an unfelt breeze, curling slightly toward the captain.

Manifesting Fogsense (I'm hoping smoke is close enough to fog for these purposes) and Shark Sight, both from Compass of Celestial Directions: The West, using the Hybrid Body Rearrangement knack. This lets me ignore all fog for the purposes of visibility conditions (using a combination of enhanced sight and hearing), add two dice to Awareness rolls to locate targets concealed by fog, and precisely locate living beings by their Essence signatures within 10 yards (underwater the range is 200 yards).

Also defending other on Jeb (with my tendrils).

Personal Essence: 1/23 + 18 committed.
Peripheral Essence: 37/48 + 3 committed to armor +8 committed to Gift charms.
EDIT: Sorry, had left out my healing Gifts (the earlier version of the character didn't have them).
Willpower: 8/10.

[AgentIndy]

"Ugh, I guess that the only pace safe is on the Ebon Flow,"Jeb takes a metal disc out of his coat,"Eb...Activate what is left of the ship's Defense Matrix...Keep a look out for any high concentrations of Essence."

He opens his tome, while saying a few words. A shimmer of light envelops the captain for a second,"The Huntress won't let this dissuade her for long.I guess she is listening in right now. Follow me to my ship," Jeb walks down a side street toward the ship.

[Obscurejones]

Ganyard tucks his sword back along his arm and follows the captain.
I had thought it better to defend Alysis rather than engage a completely unknown foe. Or did you think you could take her, Dragonblood?

[Ifni]

"Take her? Depends on who else was involved - on both sides," Anemone replies curtly to Ganyard. Her gaze moves pointedly for a moment to his moonsilver blade.

"But getting to the Ebon Flow sounds like a good idea. I'm sure we have much to discuss and I'd rather do it somewhere less crowded. Sierra, will you join us?"

Exalted, as well, the sandpiper whistles in her thoughts, a reminder. And not wholly inexperienced. Albeit nothing like the... other. Most likely Terrestrial, simply by probabilities; the veil and robes make it hard to identify or exclude Aspect markings. But she shouldn't reject the other possibilities.

The disguised Lunar matches Jeb's pace, walking beside him, new senses straining for nearby Essence-signatures.

Continuing the Defend Other and hoping shark-sight may help if she decides to surprise-attack us. But Scribbler's not going to pick a fight with the Huntress, she was a bit shaken by that Essence-signature.

[Orosboru]

No pat on the back for a job well done? Well read mortal boy with a good nose is pathetically ungrateful for help from a Terrestrial Exalted. He should be bowing on his knees and offering the services of his sister as a whore. Of course, he could overlook a mortal medic... but still. Concealment does has its flaws...

Curioser and curiouser. He isn't terrified of this Malfean either, and he flaunts his knowledge and troubles like he's talking about the weather. It might be worth it just to see how much trouble he's in. If he can take me across the ocean... or if there's anything of intellectual value in there, it'd be worth my while.

Play it quiet now, play the mortal. Follow silently. He'll rue the day he deigned me below his notice.

[AgentIndy]

"Wait, who was that person that helped out my crewman? I forgot to think then for their efforts?" Jeb turned the corner and walked onto the docks,"I mohht have a need for a doctor, always getting hurt out there."

[Orosboru]

"The illustrious dragonblood Anemone is the one that healed your crew, Captain." I smile behind the mask. At least he isn't entirely ungrateful. "But I've heard that there is a recent epidemic of a noxious condition on your ship. Lack of responsiveness, loss of motor control, difficulty breathing, heart failure. I think it's colloquially called death."

"Yes, I think I will join you." I smirk. "If you explode on the way there, I'll fix you up free of charge."

[Ifni]

Anemone smirks faintly at the veiled Exalt. I think I may like her. She's not a coward, at least. Although she might well be working with the akuma; it's an extraordinary coincidence, otherwise.

"Sierra removed the shrapnel, without which the healing would probably have been far more difficult," she says blandly. "She is indeed owed thanks. As for myself, I'm curious to see where this goes."

[AgentIndy]

Jeb grinned at this remark,"Hehe, I like you. Not enough take charge people around here, all too willing to let themselves be ruled over by another. What's your name?"

The Ebon Flow was a massive ship, brimming with cannons, and weapon emplacements. A golden light shimmered along the edge. Two cannons tracked where the group was walking, ready to fire at a moment's notice. A golden pyramid seems to hover over each cannon.

[Obscurejones]

As the cannons start to track the group Ganyard misses a step. Blanches. Takes a step back from the group and then a quick side to side to see if the cannons follow him. After a moments thought he tries to get a loit closer to the Captain.
"Uh... Not that the great and mighty Wavebreaker is frightened, but... What are those tracking exactly? And do they... You know, automatically shoot any sort of thing? Just an intellectual curiosity, of course."

[AgentIndy]

"They track high essence signatures. If one is strong enough to trip the defenses, they will be fired upon," Jeb goes to a gangplank, and waves a metal disk over a column protruding out of the walk way. The glow ceases to be around the parts of the ship he walks up to,"Welcome to the Ebon Flow..."

At least two dozen people were working on the deck, and there were pillars protruding from the ground. Golden Pyramids floated above these obelisks, acting as capstones. The hull was composed of a composite of metals, and wood. Captain Alysis motioned to one of the deck hands,"Did Trent get here fine?" THe deckhand told him that he had made it, along as the chef.

"I will tell you that this is your last chance to get off the ship...We're leaving immediately. The Huntress is not happy to lose her prey..."

[Obscurejones]

Making a politely dismissive gesture with one hand Ganyard sheathes his sword and slides the case back over his shoulder. Walking over he examines the floating pyramids closely, searching for runes and or essence circuitry.

[AgentIndy]

The golden pyramid chirped up, in a female voice,"It is not polite to stare."

[Obscurejones]

"This is not staring. It is inspection. You are a ship AI or a localized one?"

[AgentIndy]

"Ah, you pry rather fast. Safe to say, I am integral to the ship,please state your name so I can add you to the 'DO not kill on sight' list."

Jeb rolled his eyes, and tapped a column. A floor grate slid away, revealing a stairwell,"Good point, Eb will need all of your names, for the registry..."

[Obscurejones]

Names are...
Problematic. I know that. Don't worry. It's a shell game at worst.
We are not a Fiend.
But we are smarter than the average shark.
Throwing out on his best thoughtful sage expression, Ganyard rattles off a few clarifying questions.
"An odd form of authentication. Does the mechanism use thaumaturgy or visual confirmation with the name serving as a sorting algorithm? What if someone of a similar appearance arrives near or about the ship claiming to be me? Would the mechanism be able to ascertain metaphysical identity or only appearance? I'd hate to approach in disguise and get shot, or worse allow some villain onto the ship wearing my face. All sorts of deviousness in the world."

[AgentIndy]

Eb chirped back,"While my method for ascertaining your identity is a trade secret, I merely wanted your name so I could start assigning cabins, and personalize your experience...You appear to be knowledgable on this subject, maybe we should compare notes over nutrient ingestion..."

Jeb shook his head,"He's been on the ship for 2 minutes, and you are already trying to...never mind. I don'r disapprove of using aliases though, the Incarnae know I do."

[Orosboru]

"My name is http://img685.imageshack.us/img685/149/photogyo.jpg, if it pleases you, intelligence of the Ebon Flow."

[Obscurejones]

"Ah, Old Realm. Good idea. One moment."
Picking through his brain Ganyard does his best to recall his correct title in the tongue of demons. When he does manage to speak his Malfean accent is noticeable and his old realm is merely passable.
"http://i281.photobucket.com/albums/kk226/obscurejones/download_zpse9e69713.jpg"

[AgentIndy]

"Recording...." Eb's pyramid spinned a bit,"Would you like to be referred to by a different alias for conversational purposes?"

[Ifni]

"You may identify me as Anemone," the 'Water Aspect' says simply, studying the golden pyramids. "Do you perceive the nature of Essence, as well as its strength?"

[AgentIndy]

"My sensors discern the nature and strength of essence. You appear to have Exalt quality essence..."

Jeb's eyes narrow, and writes a quick note in his book,"Interesting."

[Obscurejones]

"Roughly speaking that name breaks down to Ganyard the Wavebreaker, Ebon Flow. Anything with either Ganyard or Wavebreaker in it will likely get my attention. And I would like to discuss some of your sorting methods over dinner. Sounds delightful."
Glancing back over his shoulder Ganyard flashes the Captain a cautious smile.
"Interesting, sir?"

[AgentIndy]

"Hmm, infernal...Ganyard, have you been contacted by an agent of Malfeas yet?"

[Obscurejones]

"I am not strictly sure I understand the question sir, for I am, while exceptional, a merely mortal sailor of surpassing skill."
He said pointedly. Doing his best not to jut a thumb towards Anemone.
It appears he knows how to see through shells, Prince.
...Shut up.

[AgentIndy]

"Huh, doubt that, but I will not hold it against you."

[Obscurejones]

"If you'd like to discuss the circumstances that led to my becoming a perfectly ordinary, but exceptional, mortal marine then I'd be glad to do so in a more private setting, Captain. I feel no reason to keep secrets from a man whose vessel I'll be traveling in."

[AgentIndy]

"Alright fair enough." Jeb walks down a flight of stairs,"Step into my office." He walks down a hallway, and enters a room that is full of books on shelves, a few chairs, and a desk.

[Obscurejones]

Giving a small nod to the two exalts remaining on the deck, and a small wave to Eb, Ganyard follows the Captain. Pausing at the entrance to the office he ducks his head, sliding the case off and to the floor, leaving it just inside the door. Deliberately he takes a step away from the case, leaving it just our of arms reach.
That was unwise.
But necessary.
Taking a deep breath, Ganyard begins the conversation.
"To begin, I'd like to ask that you refrain from mentioning my nature in public ever again. While an experienced occultist like yourself may have heard rumors, the Al-Thing has not yet voted to make our existence public. I am allowed certain leeway in my personal affairs, but I do not wish to have the forces of hell barking at my heels. As they say, loose lips sink ships."

[AgentIndy]

"Well, I can respect that. Unfortunately, the only reason I know of your kind is the fact that the Huntress is one herself. Considering how you are something that I have only seen try to kill me, this leaves me in an interesting position. While you have connections to my enemy, you appear to still have your humanity...I can work with this."

[Obscurejones]

"Ah... You don't... "
You're an idiot.
...Agreed.
"What manner of being do you think I am captain?"

[AgentIndy]

"Some sort of Exalt...Not an Akuma though...akuma lack free will. If you were an Akuma, you would have tried to kill me the first second you saw me," Jeb opens his tome, showing the symbol of She Who Lives In Her Name, Malfeas, and the Ebon Dragon,"I have met three of these Exalts...Not counting you. Incredibly powerful, but narrow focused. I beat one of them, but the other two are loose."

[Obscurejones]

"Ah. Well, Anemone thinks me an Akuma. I will likely dissuade her in my own time, if only by not killing you. As to my reasons for not doing so, I bear you no malice. Sometimes even the architects of the world must work to cross purposes. And I do not serve the Principle."

[AgentIndy]

"Ah, if you do not serve the Principle... I see that you favor brute force. Strong, weapon is...distinct. Your qualities, must be...Malfeas? I still don't understand the connection, but I could use some of Malfeas' ruthlessness."

[Obscurejones]

Where exactly did Jeb see Ganyard using a lot of Brute Force? :smallconfused: I mean he uses the second smallest daiklaive they make. And a moonsilver one at that.
"...In any case it would be rude to keep the others waiting for too long."
With a small nod to the Captain Ganyard retrieves his weapon from the floor and heads back out into the sea air.

[AgentIndy]

Used 'brute force' in place of 'being direct'. This is coming from Ganyard calling out the Huntress the moment she was noticed.

"Fair enough," Jeb closes his tome, and heads back above deck.

[Ifni]

Waiting on the deck, Anemone regards the golden pyramids and the masked woman with approximately equal interest. When Ganyard and Jeb re-emerge, she inclines her head to the captain, and says,

"So, Captain. I can't deny you and your ship have piqued my interest. Is now a good time to tell the story of how you earned a Yozi's ire? Or why, given that, you'd knowingly invite a servant of Malfeas onto your ship?" She nods curtly toward Ganyard.

[Obscurejones]

Walking past Anemone Ganyard leans in and with a smirk remarks,
"Isn't it obvious? I've broken his will with my dark and deplorable ways. Save us all, oh you great and mighty dragon. If you think you've got the stones."
Reaching out a hand to ruffle her hair he moves past and goes to have a quiet chat with Eb.

[AgentIndy]

Jeb laughs a bit, and then sighs while smoothing out his hair,"I have long learned that when one is targeted by a Yozi, one does have the luxury of being picky. Besides, I am in need of a good marine...Pirates are getting revkless as of late."

"As for the ire of She Who Lives In Her Name...I have penned at least a dozen pages of the Broken Winged Crane, and show no sign of stopping... Do you know what that is?"

Eb's pyramid turned to face Ganyard,"Wavebreaker, I hope your chat with the Captain privately was satisfactory. Are there any topics you would wish to pursue?"

[Obscurejones]

"I was wondering if you could explain some of the workings of your weaponry. Your captain was able to detect my nature, and I think with a little work we could refine your targeting algorithms to do something similar. I may be no artificer but my thaumaturgical knowledge is strong."

[AgentIndy]

"Current weaponry is essence enhanced cannons. Front facing cannon fires an condensed essence packet. Omnidirectional light amplification system offline."

[Ifni]

There is a moment before Anemone reacts. A moment in which Ganyard steps over to converse with Ebon Flow, and the Captain continues to speak casually of occult horrors. A moment in which Ganyard might belatedly register what his fingertips are telling him, in opposition to the evidence of his lying eyes...

What he touched, just then, was not hair. Or not human hair.

Chilly. Moist. A little slimy. And where his hand brushed what appeared to be soft sapphire strands, tugged to and fro by the breeze, his skin tingles and faintly burns.

"That is... fascinating, Jeb," Anemone says courteously to the captain, "but I'll have to ask you to excuse me briefly. My apologies - this should only take a moment."

She steps up behind Ganyard, her braids curling upward, now very clearly not driven by the wind. The Infernal might feel a whisper of chill across the back of his neck, a slithering touch at his wrist.

"You," the 'Water Aspect' says coolly, "need to learn to keep your hands to yourself."

Join Battle!

[roll0] Wits+Awareness (including bonus from Third Eye)

Possible stunt:[roll1].

(And AgentIndy, don't worry, OJ and I know how to keep OOC and IC arguments separate, and I've checked he's okay with this. Anemone doesn't want to kill Ganyard, anyway; she's curious about him.)

[AgentIndy]

Jeb backs into an obelisk, and light objects appear around him,"Start Anima Analysis."

[Obscurejones]

"Ah, Light. Useful for pushing back a demons of the Ebon Dragon and some Abyssals. Useful trick."
Straightening his back, Ganyard turns, slowly. Smiles large and brightly. The ripples beneath his skin slither about beneath the touch of her "hair". A little fog puffs out from his mouth as he speaks.
"Child, if you think you're the first girl to try and shock me with her tentacles you're about a year too late. I will touch whom I please. So, even if we're both not who we're pretending, how about you take a step back before I have to show you a few more of my tricks."
I don't know what she's talking about. I am dearly offended and the only way to end this is intractable interparty conflict. If there's one thing I know it is that no character of Ifni's can ever be friends with a character of mine.

:smalltongue:

[Ifni]

Anemone grins, a baring of teeth that has no amusement in it. "Oh, I'd love to see some more of your tricks. And an anima display, for Jeb, would be nice too. I'm sure it would be enlightening. I mean, this conversation has already told us so much about how you see yourself."

He has a moonsilver sword. And the fog, and the ripples beneath his skin... was he one of us, once? Lunar, turned akuma or chimera or both?

She raises her chin. "Why don't you -"

But even as she speaks, she's moving, gliding, spinning, inhumanly fast and graceful. A stray braid curls around Ganyard's ankle to pull him off-balance, jerking sharply to the side as she drops low to the ground. Gloved hands lash out to grasp the Infernal's sword-arm and pivot him over her shoulder. Blue-silver light flows around her like shimmering sheets of water, accompanied by the soft susurrus of the tides.

And if she's calculated the trajectory correctly, the Infernal will describe a lovely parabolic arc over the rail of the Ebon Flow, and into the sea below. That should cool him off.

Declaring a combo of all my reflexives. Clinch attack with 6m Peripheral to the First Dexterity Excellency. Anima lights up, requires 8 sux on Perception+Awareness to note (visually) that there's a Lunar anima hidden inside the illusory Water Aspect one. Powers that perceive Essence directly will probably work, though.

[roll0] clinch attack, to throw Ganyard off the side of the boat (Dex 6 + Martial Arts 5 + Natural Weapons specialty 3 + Excellency 6)
[roll1] possible stunt

She figures he must be able to swim :smallwink:

[Obscurejones]

At the grasping Ganyard exhales, a cool sea mist settling over his body and condensing down to ichorous runes, a sermon of hate and bile. The tendril that wraps around his ankle goes numb as the hate of the Acid sea pours through the little grasper and into the Exalt behind it.

Unfortunately for Ganyard, all of the poison in the world will do nothing to stop his being thrown. With a grunt he soars into the air, coming down with a splash. With an inhuman grace Ganyard pulls himself skyward, launching up out of the water. With a few pulls of long sinuous arms he swims to and pulls himself up onto the dock. With a flex of a few fingers his sword slithers free and into hand, twisting and lurching, lunging forward to taste blood. Getting to his feet slowly, Ganyard braces himself on the long blade.
"...Ouchie."
Kill her now. Strip the flesh from her bones. Boil her skull and make a goblet from it. Poison her entire familial line.
Down boy. We'll settle this like we are. A king, with a certain decorum.
"Permission to duel one of your passengers, Captain? I'll try to leave her in one piece, I swear."
Firing Spiteful Sea Tincture, the poison he's using is Poison Lacquer: Damage 5L/action, Toxicity 3, Tolerance None, Penalty -3. Ifni, if you're going to go out of your way to not have her touch him skin to skin, remember that you're doing that and that a tentacle is a you. :smalltongue: 2 Motes from Peripheral, and landing on the Dock, because as the ST pointed out we are still moored.

[AgentIndy]

"Permission granted," Jeb smiled as he got behind a transparent barrier.

[Obscurejones]

"Excellent."
With an evil grin Ganyard leaps, through the air and up onto the ship. As he soars his flesh twists and rends, tentacles bursting free from skin, blood dripping onto the deck. The tentacles wrap around broken limbs, shifting and warping from flesh to glowing Malfean brass. Malevolent runes leak out from the gaps between writhing metal fixing the twisting and turning limbs in place. An eye bursts forth from the metallic forehead, fixing Anenome in a glowing demonic gaze. Landing in a kneeling position, the brass golem unfurls itself, rising ever taller until it towers over those who would dare oppose the chosen of the King of Yozi.

Standing before Anemone is a colossus of Brass, Fire, and Hate. Opening his cavernous maw he speaks in Ganyard's voice. The runes spread across his skin tell the story of her defeat, of the eternal torment waiting for her if she chooses to continue her grievance.

"Still want to fight?"
Viridian Legend Exoskeleton for10 motes and one willpower. Because it's motes from Peripheral, Anima is flaring, triggering From Rage Recast. Choosing Lidless Demon eye and Giant. I am a scary.
Also, JB
[roll0]

[Ifni]

"- soak in there for a while. The water's nice and cool, it might help with the swollen head. I'd really see a medical professional about that if it doesn't subside on its own."

Anemone's voice is calm as she moves to the railing and watches Ganyard pull himself up, wincing a little as the garish patterns play along her braids.

"I'd thought Malfeas would disdain poison; not a very kingly weapon, is it? Sea, acid, bile... hmm." She doesn't know much of the akuma, but... have any of them ever given themselves to two Yozis? She glances briefly at Jeb, amusement lifting one corner of her mouth. "And I'm touched by your concern, Captain. Stay safe."

When the colossus leaps, she stumbles for a moment, but keeps her footing. For a moment her gaze fixes on the runes, tales of her torment and death. And then she smiles that mirthless shark's smile again, and spreads her hands wide and skyward.

"You think you'll win my respect with ghost-stories of doom, Malfean? Me? I've walked through the shadow of real death, thrice over." There is an edge of anger in her voice.

(Truth. The waters rising, under the Prince's cold gaze, and the last glimpse of her mother's face. The leap into chill waters, knowing what was to come, that still hadn't prepared her for the net of fire tangling along her skin. And the last farewell, I'm sorry...)

She too seems to be growing, her eyes level with the fiery maw - and then with the Infernal's eyes - and then looking down on him. But... no, not growing. Rising.

When did her feet stop touching the deck of the Flow? She's well over her body-height above it now. Her coat flares outward, and below her the dust and trailed-in sand eddies in a ring of small circles.

"You think I owe you honor, when you've done nothing to earn it? You think you have the right to touch me? Much less command me?"

She tilts slightly away from the Infernal, soaring up into the sky, as she calls back down,
"If you want to talk rather than fight, servant of the Yozis... tell me who died, that you might bear that sword. Tell me of your deeds."

Silver glitters in the sunlight, razor-sharp shards suddenly sparkling along her twisting dark braids. And when she smiles - for those with good vision - her teeth are pointed, and silver-edged.

Stamina+Resistance vs the poison: [roll0] vs difficulty 3

Flying using my air-jets, because Wings come in many forms :smallwink:

Claiming Personal motes from the 2-die stunt on the last action (using the environment, i.e. the sea) and promptly feeding them back into Claws of the Silver Moon (which will be Obvious to Ganyard's Lidless Demon Eye, oh look it's a Lunar!) Also probably clear at this point, to LDE, that she has a sorcerous spell knotted around her identity and appearance, artifact armor under her coat, and moonsilver tattoos inlaid in her skin.

Claiming a 1-die Join Battle stunt.

So Reaction Count 4:
Tick 0: Anemone (clinch, Speed 6)
Tick 3: Ganyard (Viridian Legend Exoskeleton, Speed 7)
Tick 6: Anemone (Claws of the Silver Moon, Speed 4)
Tick 10: Ganyard, Anemone

Personal Essence: 1/23 + 18 committed to healing + 4 committed to CotSM.
Peripheral Essence: 33/48 + 3 committed to armor +8 committed to Gift charms.
Willpower: 7/10.
Anima: 6

[Obscurejones]

...My predecessor. A nasty brutish man. I loathe his legacy, but I'm not foolish enough to travel without a blade. And I find the moonsilver to my liking. You are not as you seem. Silver plays in your currents. You care for the sword of an Anathema. I'll not say your name and insult you with the Immaculate slur, or by misrepresenting your kind.
Slowly, surely, the colossus collapses in on itself. Sits. Still and quiet. The runes on his body twist furiously, but they lie ignored. A sigh rumbles out from the brass giant. He lays the sword across his knees and runs a hand along the thin flat of the blade, calming its writhing fury.
"I will not be a slave to the desires that shape me. I will not fight you if I do not have to. If you are a scholar of your people I'll ask as I asked the Akuma of your kind that I've met. Do you know this sword's name? I only know what it was called by the man who stole it. It deserves better."

[The Bushranger]

Meanwhile...

A cloaked figure approached the docks, keeping to the shadows as much as possible. A hint of red hair peeked out from under the cloak, the heavy boots the figure wore thudding with every step as it approached.

[AgentIndy]

A cannon on the deck pointed at the newcomer. It waited to fire though.

[Ifni]

She pauses, considering the offering - and then falls, a kingfisher flash of blue and green and silver through the air. She stops just above the ground, the skirts of her coat billowing up as she hovers. The glitter of sunlight through sea-spray still limns her in a haze of water and rainbows.

Anemone approaches the colossus, and crouches down to examine the sword. Gloved hands gently tilt the blade, looking for runes and engravings that can only be seen from certain angles or in a certain light. She gauges the weight and heft, the shape of the hilt - although any Lunar's blade must change frequently, to fit a shapeshifter's hand.

Coil had known much, of the lost and forgotten past. She'd ventured into hundreds - thousands? - of tombs and catafalques, seeking the secrets of the dead. The grave-goods had interested her less, but practicality had meant that she sometimes took and sold the simpler relics; she had trained Scribbler to recognize the common signs of the great Shogunate workshops, and the older designs of the First Age. And a few legendary weapons, those renowned for their craftsmanship and those renowned only for their deeds, their memory passed down in song and story.

There had been long hours in the dimly-lamplit shadows, slowly copying Coil's crabbed shorthand into tomes. The Lunar traditions had been primarily oral, but the Prince had wanted that knowledge organized and recorded. (It had seemed ironic, then, that after all the changes in her life she'd still ended up serving as a scribe.) But it does make the memories easier to call back.

Anemone is silent, for now, intent only on her study of the blade. She's focused enough that she neglects to notice the sound of the newcomer's boots, and the ship's reaction.

Dropping out of combat ticks for the moment I guess, thank you Ganyard.

Int+Lore I guess? I'll add 5m from the First Intelligence Excellency, paying 1m from Personal and 4m from Peripheral, taking my anima to 10. So the apparent spray is becoming fairly intense, although it's just an illusion, and people right next to her will probably realize they're not getting wet and/or frozen.
Int+Lore+Excellency [roll0]
+[roll1] possible stunt.
EDIT: 7 sux assuming at least a 1-die stunt.

[Obscurejones]

"Your cannons are moving, Captain. Would you like me to intervene while Anemone inspects my sword?"

[AgentIndy]

"Hmm, it must be another essence signature. Yes, that would be a good idea."

[Obscurejones]

"I will expect the sword back when you have finished, Miss. Ill gotten or no, it is mine. I wield it well. And I may need it soon if our visitor proves hostile."
Sliding back and up, the giant rises, a terrible shining sound of metal sliding on metal as he moves. The giant has no need to move too far, merely craning its neck to peer down upon the docks. It amplifies its voice with booming fire.
"You there. Are you here to sign up for the crew or to attack the same?"

[Ifni]

Anemone stands up, cradling the moonsilver blade in her gloved hands. "I know your sword's name." Her voice is cool and dispassionate. "And how it was forged."

Not much knowledge is required, when that name is written in spiraling shadows within the silver, when the trailing mist-like eddies coil together into patterns she recognizes from her own tattoos. Far more intricate and dense, though, and filled with Clawspeak characters she's never seen in her life - and though she's far from fluent in the language of the Pact, that in itself tells her something.

Because she does know the names of those who gave up their millennial lives to halt the Balorian Crusade, the hundred-strong roll of honor. And knowing that, the sword itself tells her where - and who - it came from, and the purpose for which it was made.

I will not be a slave to the desires that shape me.

Perhaps it is... not wrong, that this particular Exalt bears this particular sword.

(Although something has been done to it, some taint added. The forms it shifts through in her hands no longer recall Creation. Something to understand, there - along with how an Exalt may wield the power of two Yozis, and claim to retain their free will.)

She moves to stand beside Ganyard, eyeing the cannon's likely trajectory, and passes him the sword. "I'll tell you of its origins later. Perhaps you can tell me what's happened to it since."

[The Bushranger]

The cloaked figure pauses as the cannons shift. And seems to consider for a long moment...before stepping out, and raising one hand to wave, the hood pulling back far enough to reveal a pale face framed by white hair.

"Ahoy there!" she calls. "Don't shoot, it's only me!"


(with apologies to Bob Hope...)

[Ifni]

"Oh? I don't believe we've been introduced." The 'Water Aspect', still haloed in the shimmering sea-spray of her anima, glances at Jeb Alysis and raises an eyebrow.

Bleached hair and skin... the stranger could simply be albino, or a foreigner. No reason to jump to conclusions yet. (Although she did possess an Essence signature potent enough for the guns to turn on her - but she doesn't know enough about the Ebon Flow to interpret that.) Her equipment might provide more of a clue, but it's hard to see anything beneath the cloak. Perhaps if she comes closer.

[AgentIndy]

Jeb walks to the edge of the ship,"Ah, you must be the specialist I have hired."

[Obscurejones]

"A specialist? Would you like a lift up to the boat?"

[AgentIndy]

"There is a gangway..."

[Obscurejones]

"Spoilsport."
Sighing, Ganyard blinks. As his eyes open the brass begins to flake away from his skin. As it hits the deck of the ship it crumbles into piles of dust, floating away on winds that only they can perceive. Oddly enough it leaves the giant man behind. Excepting his massive size and the unblinking eye of green flame adorning his forehead it is still unquestionably Ganyard.
We are unarmored and were momentarily unarmed! This is unacceptable!
We are the lord of these seas. Also, we're larger than a yeddim. And our skin can turn aside dailaives. Calm yourself.
Fixing his massive eye upon the newcomer Ganyard reads the essence around them, probing and searching for signs of what triggered the cannons to swivel.
"Huh. Well if you're a chosen, you're not strong enough to worry anyone on this vessel. Hurry up the planks, boy. We should get moving."

[Ifni]

"For someone capable of seeing Essence patterns you're oddly unobservant with regard to more mundane qualities, Wavebreaker," Anemone notes idly. "I believe ma'am is the appropriate form of address here, if you don't want to go with Chosen."

Speaking of which... where did Sierra go? She turns away from the rail, looking for the masked and veiled Exalt.

[Orosboru]

"Oh, don't mind me." Sierra leans back on the rail, watching the developing drama. "I'm expecting more random people to show up coincidentally. You know, the usual ragtag collection of driftwood." Sierra walks around a little, moving to the centre of the ship. "Although honestly I'm a little overwhelmed at the moment, with the fighting and the explosions and the epic tales and the cannons and the strange book with symbols of the Incarnae and the ship AI and the glowing demonic rune skin and the sharp and pointy teeth and the hidden ninjas and the ceremonial boasting and the first age ship and the *lore* and the-"

Sierra takes a breath.

"Alright, I'm done with that. A whole collection of irregular phenomena..."

A lusty breath overtakes her as she looks at the demon eye.

Very interesting indeed.

[Ifni]

Anemone laughs as she moves to lean on the rail beside Sierra, baring the aforementioned sharp and pointy teeth. "It is delightful, isn't it? You seem to be holding up well. But I suppose a certain ability to take the unexpected in one's stride is a requirement for Exalts. Surviving ones, anyway."

"You're a scholar, as well as a healer?"

[Orosboru]

"A scholar's duty is to preserve knowledge, and to build new ideas from the old. I am more... callous. Destructive. Selfish. Sierra frowns behind the mask. "A warrior that knows how to wield a sword does not necessarily know how to make one - so my knowledge is similarly pointed as a means to a end."

"My knowledge of the world may not be as broad as I would like, but I know the nature of human habit. It would be obnoxious of me to judge preemptively, so I take it 'all in stride', as you say." Sierra smirks. "And for that ability, you have it in spades, Lady Anemone."

[Ifni]

"I somehow feel that there's a sting in the tail of that compliment, but I'll take it at face value. But please, just Anemone. I think the only person in the immediate vicinity who's not a Prince of the Earth, at least by the broadest definition, is the man who actually owns the ship. And possession of a First Age warship must be rather more than nine points of the law."

"So to what end is your knowledge the means? Since we're all being so forthcoming, here." Anemone grins companionably, a flash of silver in the sun, eyes half-lidded in faintly cynical amusement.

[The Bushranger]

"Well, if I can come aboard without being shot..."
The woman chuckles, and hurries to the gangplank, her steps thudding under the impacts of her heavy, almost comically oversized boots as she walked.
"Apologies for being late. There were...complications that delayed me."

At closer range, it can be seen that the bangs framing her face are white, but the remainder of her hair is a bright red.

[AgentIndy]

Jeb looks at the woman,"There isn't a problem, your services are sufficiently important to delay our departure."

There is another shift of the cannons, as they start tracking a new target. There is an immediate retrieval of the gang plank. Eb's pyramid quivers,"The Monster is here."

[Ifni]

Anemone looks up at that, nodding briefly to the newcomer and then turning to track the cannons. "Is the Monster the same as the Huntress?"

[Orosboru]

"Power. Naught else?" Sierra smiles. "Such a simple reason, isn't it. No room for reasons why. A midwife may be despised as a witch, but when the headsman's wife is in her tenth hour of labour, she might as well be the Unconquered Sun. Knowledge, sorcery, martial arts, all of this only a means for power. Any petty desire can be cloaked over this need, some idle imagination of kingdoms and empires, but the nature of the Exalted is simply power, and the will to use it. All other considerations are merely variations in a vibrant cloth.

Sierra blinks at the sudden interruption...

"The monster? Sounds ominous. Let's continue this discussion later, and preferably under the decks."

[AgentIndy]

Jeb gave an unspoken command, and the boat started to turn out of the harbor of Horizen. A person stood at the edge of the harbor, suddenly enveloped with a green light. The cannons fired, knocking parts of the docks into the ocean.

[Obscurejones]

Waving to the increasingly distant figure, Ganyard hefts his daiklaive onto a shoulder. Left to the its own devices the foul blade nuzzles his cheek. Absentmindedly he tilts his head into the caress.
"I think it would perhaps be best if the less martial of our motley crew were below decks. I'll cover the retreat, so to speak. Excepting objection, Captain."

[AgentIndy]

"You couldn't handle the Huntress while she is using her accursed martial arts, though you could slow her down."

[Ifni]

"She does have Elder Essence, Wavebreaker, if you know what that means," Anemone notes dispassionately. "Do you know the saying about knowing when to hold and when to fold?" She glances back at the masked woman. "Sierra, it might be wise for you to go below."

"Captain, out of tactical interest, can she fly? Or otherwise straightforwardly clear that gap?" She frowns slightly at the damaged docks, and the green-lit figure standing there, and taps gloved fingers on the railing.

[Obscurejones]

"She is Akuma. The day I flee one of those wretches I have lost something greater than my life."
Head twisting to hear the call from within, Ganyard's skin roils and crashes like the waves beneath the ship, his demonic rider making its displeasure known even to the world outside.
She is capable of...
The Monster Style. We will not flee from Monsters.
She may make you eat those words, Prince.

[AgentIndy]

Jeb frowned as he headed to the back of the ship,"Oh, she's a jumper," and a rifle rose from the decks. Although, it was more like a cannon. There was a burst of essence at the harbor, and a cloaked woman emerged from the smoke and wreckage from the cannons. "If we can get out of the harbor, we can outpace her...Can any of you throw worth a damn, or use a firewand, maybe even a bow would suffice."

[Ifni]

"I could shoot projectiles at her, but if she's as skilled as you say, actually striking her is likely to be more of a challenge. And I'd prefer to avoid shooting into a populated area when the one person I'm almost certain not to hit is my target."

"Unless you want something particular hurled or shot at her?"

[Obscurejones]

"I can't promise anything resembling accuracy but if you've got something large enough to make that not matter, I can hurl it with the best of them. Malfeas, I can hurl it better if I put a little juice into it."

[Ifni]

Anemone's voice remains rather casual, as if discussing the weather or some similarly innocuous topic, rather than the god-slaying living weapon watching from the dock. "Oh, as far as accuracy goes, I can probably still put a dart through a man's eye at this range. I'm just not sure I can do the same to an akuma, at least if she sees it coming." And thanks to the flaring anima, she will probably see it coming. That may have been a miscalculation.

[AgentIndy]

Jeb pulled a spear out of a rack nearby and handed it to Ganyard.

"She is focusing at the moment...She may be trying to jump."

[Ifni]

"Ah, we just need to break her concentration? Well then. Now that your cook and sailor are being treated - or so I presume - let's free up some of that Essence." For a moment Anemone's anima seems to pulse, a swirling vortex of water and light.

Then the Exalt's 'braids' lengthen and twist upward, glints of jagged silver catching the sunlight. Along their glossy dark length, small near-transparent azure capsules pop out at regular intervals, each one tipped and vaned with glittering metal.

And with a swift outward-lashing motion, they fly, a lightning-fast hail of silver-and-crystal darts.

Manifesting Greater Natural Missile for my poisonous tendrils. Then shooting a hail of nematocyst-darts at her, base dicepool is 11 as calculated in OOC, so drops to 7/6/5/4 for multi-action penalties.

[roll0] + stunt [roll1]
[roll2] + stunt [roll3]
[roll4] + stunt [roll5]
[roll6] + stunt [roll7]
EDIT: 3/2/2/5 by my count. So if her normal DV is 8 or less, and she doesn't negate the onslaught penalty, that last one might actually hit - but this is mostly meant to distract her, not hurt her.

If any of these somehow hit (remember her onslaught penalty) lemme know and I'll roll damage. There's no range penalty within 50 yards, -1 external for 50-100 yards, -2 external for 100-150 yards.

Personal Essence: 3/23 + 4 committed to CotSM.
Peripheral Essence: 29/48 + 3 committed to armor +8 committed to Gift charms.
Willpower: 7/10.
Anima: 10

(Claiming 2-die stunt from examining the sword, 1-die stunt for this one.)

[AgentIndy]

THe Huntress goes for a jump, but then one of the projectiles grazes her hood. She drops down to avoid the remaining missiles, scowls underneath her hood.

THe ship keeps moving out of the port, and the boat has nearly cleared the harbor by now.

[Obscurejones]

Ganyard's voice is appropriately droll as the missiles fly.
"What an astonishing trick, Anemone. I had forgotten the Dragonblooded facility for shapeshifting and natural weapons. Gaia's gifts are remarkable in their adaptability."

[The Bushranger]

She nods slightly to Jeb in gratitude, then to the others in greeting...

"Akuma, you say?" she mutters, frowning and shaking her head. Ranged combat is...not my style, I'm afraid. If she makes it to the ship, I may be able to aid."

[AgentIndy]

"Let us hope she doesn't make it..." Jeb looked down a spy glass,"What is she planning..."

[Ifni]

Ganyard's voice is appropriately droll as the missiles fly.
"What an astonishing trick, Anemone. I had forgotten the Dragonblooded facility for shapeshifting and natural weapons. Gaia's gifts are remarkable in their adaptability."

"Adaptability is a virtue," Anemone agrees blandly. "As is discretion, as a rule." She pointedly rakes Ganyard's oversized form with her gaze. "But on the Ebon Flow I suspect honesty will be, if not the best policy, the one that eventually prevails."

She turns to the... specialist. "I don't believe I got your name. I go by Anemone. I must say I'm rather curious as to the nature of your specialization."

One wary eye remains on the docks, and the figure there. Quite literally; beneath the veil of illusion, the third eye set into the Lunar's forehead blinks, and swivels toward the green-haloed form.

[Orosboru]

"It would make sense that Gaia would wish to arm her children." Sierra smiles. "The hair growth alone would destroy the livelihoods of barbers around the world. I don't suppose that she has her own way of traversing the waters, my good captain?" Sierra dryly notes to him.

"You're surprisingly perceptive for a ton of muscle, Lord Ganyard." Sierra slinks next to the Infernal. "There is more than it seems to everything in our little queer situation, no mistake. But what I'd like to know is your *skin*-" Sierra sighs."Your rune-scarred manifestation is so... enlightening. If only we could all wear the truth on our chests." Sierra smiles behind her mask.

[Obscurejones]

The corner of Ganyard's mouth quirks into a smile and he turns, and shifts his weight slightly, looming over Sierra.
"One truth, Milady. So the scriptures say there are many to be learned and even further that may be taught. But if you'd like I could show you what can be seen on my skin. I'm afraid the stories get a little repetitive though. Mostly blood, death, and vengeance. But far be it to keep my flesh from the attentions of a scholar."Obscure reference is go! See if you can find it.
What... What was that?
When I figure it out I'll tell you.

[Orosboru]

"Of course, my lord, I'd like to pay all of my attention to your *flesh*, you put it? Sierra giggles. "Much more of your flesh in the days to come. After all, the best stories are contradictions, I think. So far, there's been very little blood, not a lot of vengeance, and thanks to our Dragonblood's attentions, no death." Sierra frowns.

"It's a unexpected surprise, surely. But I'm sure that if I wait long enough, your scripture will catch up with us." Sierra smiles. "You must tell me of your dogma someday, so I can fully enjoy the knowledge of your body."

[Obscurejones]

A shiver ripples through Ganyard, barely visible even on his outsized frame.
"Dogma, that I have for the most part rejected, milady. As I told Anemone, I will not be ruled by the messages in my flesh. I will carve my own path if I must burn away this body to do so. I will outrun my scripture. See it never come to pass. Perhaps if you do not understand that I have no need to show you what is written upon myself."

[Orosboru]

"A runaway lord, a tale written on his skin not to his liking, defying his destiny?" Sierra has a neutral look on her face. "As much as any other sword can shape its crucible, I suppose. A strutting, defiant child, wearing the borrowed robes of his father, shouting defiance, for freedom is his name. You show great pride in who you are... and such shame. I can't say I understand now. Perhaps I may someday."

Sierra turns to look at the newcomer.

"But I will take pleasure in your flesh another day, when your feelings have scarred over from my injuries to your person. My earnest apologies for any discomfort."

[Obscurejones]

As Sierra speaks, the mountain of a man collapses in on himself. At first it seems to only be his posture, but in a moment it becomes obvious that even as his bravado fades so does his stature. In a moment he is merely human sized, albeit still taller than most. When he opens his eyes again he does so with only two, none glowing.
"You are preternaturally astute, Milady. I will perhaps wait a while before I trade barbs with you again. No harm was done however that I did not do myself."
His demonic companion is silent, his skin still.

[Ifni]

Anemone listens thoughtfully to the exchange, waiting for the 'specialist' to reply - or for the Huntress to make her next move.

[AgentIndy]

The Harbor remains calm...after the ranged attack nearly hit the Huntress, she seems to have hidden in the crowds again.

Jeb stepped away from the weapon emplacements, and walked to a obelisk,"Eb, put fifty percent power to the engines."

[Ifni]

Anemone shrugs slightly, still keeping an eye on the docks, and takes a step after Jeb. "So Captain, to continue our earlier conversation - you mentioned you had been penning the Broken-Winged Crane. I've heard of it, and its connection to the Yozis, but I don't know the details. Care to explain?"

[AgentIndy]

Jeb sighed, and wiped his forehead,"The Broken Winged Crane...Is a history, and a tome of occult power...That doesn't exist yet as far as I know. In the known pages, the Yozis supposedly triumph over the Incarnae...My pages, were different. They spoke of the Exalted, talking about a curse and how it was fixed. There was a new kind of Primordial, that eventually over threw the Yozis. The greatest of the Gods die...And yet over half of what I wrote from the darkest space of my mind were heretical compared to the previously documented pages. The last page I wrote was a schematic, something that rivaled the Imperial Manse in scale."

He put down a map,"I have deduced where a lost first age city was, which may have technology we can use. I'd recommend taking time to familiarize your selves with the ship before we get there. It will be about a week of travel..."

Horizen was far behind them now. A cloaked woman stood on a tower on the island, and scowled at the departing ship.

[The Bushranger]

The cloaked woman remained on the stern of the ship as they sailed out, and gave an almost cheeky wave to the island tower as they departed, before turning to join her fellow adventurers.

[Obscurejones]

Turning from the rest of the group Ganyard retreats to the relative safety of one of the obelisks.
"Ebon, if you could I'd like to be directed to my quarters, provided there are any available."

[Ifni]

"You think this First Age city is related to the schematic you created?" Anemone walks beside Jeb, glancing across the deck thoughtfully. Then she pauses, and turns back to the mortal, folding her arms.

"Captain... actually, I have a more basic question. Or two, really. Don't take this the wrong way, but why should I help you, and why do you trust me - or any of us - to help you? You're mortal, although you've pushed your Essence as far as I've ever seen in someone who wasn't a spirit or Exalted." She glances around at the others on the deck with them: the cloaked 'specialist', the masked and robed woman, the retreating form of Ganyard. "There are four Exalts on your deck right now, at least one of them apparently imbued with the Yozis' power." She looks at him questioningly. "Your confidence is admirable, but - do you know something I don't, about how our interests might coincide? What do you mean to do, with the technology of this city?"

[AgentIndy]

Ebon opened a hatch for Ganyard, and lit a few lights directing him to an empty room.

Jeb Alysis smirked at this rather observant Exalt, "All very good questions, but before I tell you why this city is important, I might as well tell you why I am trusting you. The Exalted were the champions of civilization in the First Age, capable of greatness. I need that greatness."

"A month ago, the Silver Prince's forces severely damaged my ship...It is a relic that no living human could hope to repair it. I need assistance with that, hopefully on our travels we can find a way to repair this ship...But now I am getting off the topic at hand. Ah, Ganyard...His Yozi influence will not be a liability...He hasn't tried to kill me yet, which means he retains free will, just like the Huntress. I...value those skills."

"This city...it is called Requiem. Our interests may coincide with the fact that if everything goes accordingly, then Creation will be a better place than what we left it. As for the city, and the schematic...What I cold uncover on the city suggested that it was similar to the design of my schematic, but it was left half finished. I hope to find a way to finish this construct...As for what I would do with it, well do you know how the Scarlet Empress rose to power?"

[Ifni]

"By driving off the Balorian Crusade. You seem to lack such an obvious unifying threat," Anemone replies dryly. "But setting that aside for the moment - what is your involvement with the Silver Prince?"

[AgentIndy]

"You seem to misunderstand me, I am not angling for the throne, I was asking if you knew about the weapon which helped her rise to power," Jeb paced a little bit on the deck,"Ah, the Silver Prince. I saw him at a festival in my younger days, before I first put pen to paper. Unfortunately, I am an outlaw in his eyes, he has sent his fleets after me. Many of them. We are enemies, but I do not know if he is targeting me specifically."

[Obscurejones]

Ducking his head back out of the hallway for just a moment, Ganyard wiggles his fingers spookily at Anenome.
Fear my demonic power! Booga googah!
With a laugh he starts back down the lit hallway to his room.
...
Oh lighten up, Demon.
What was the point of that exactly?
If you wanted to bring a dozen sharp knives within a few feet of a king what would you have me do?
...I would hide them on our person.
And I would tell the court I was a juggling jester. Never underestimate the power of a jape, Demon. Clowns can do what they will even in the face of power.

[Ifni]

"I know something of the Empress' weapons. Not details. Did you do something in particular, for the Prince to decide you were an outlaw?"

Anemone's gaze lingers on the spot where Ganyard disappeared for a moment, her lips thinning slightly. "It occurs to me that if I'd sent several assassins after you, and they'd all failed - I might command my servants to try to close somewhat more subtly. Even one without free will might be ordered to present a benign appearance, for long enough. Offer help, play the harmless fool..." She shrugs. "Not to tell you your business, Jeb. You've clearly survived long enough on your own. But I'd be wary."

[AgentIndy]

"I betrayed his hospitality...easy to say, it has escalated from there."

"Malfeas does not hide, but I can see your point. I will keep an eye on him."

[Ifni]

Anemone nods in acknowledgement. "All right. Thank you for the explanations. I may go acquaint myself with your ship, as you suggested - and with Sierra, and your 'specialist'." They've moved a little way away from the pale woman, and Anemone glances at her and then lowers her voice. "Will you tell me the nature of her specialization? I don't wish to bother her if she's reclusive."

[AgentIndy]

"She possesses the powers of the Underworld. We lack that power on board this ship."

[Ifni]

"... right." Anemone glances at the pale woman, and again taps the sandpiper's power, reading her nature and her Essence. Not merely ghost-blooded, no. "And I take it you have reason to believe she's not working for the Silver Prince?"

[The Bushranger]

"That stuck-up popinjay?" the woman says, scowling beneath her hood with a somewhat disgusted tone. "As if. If you threw his corpse in the water the sharks would leave in disgust."

[Ifni]

Anemone starts a little. She thought she'd been speaking more quietly than that. Oh well. She turns to the woman and gives her a slight nod.

"Not that I particularly disagree on that front, but... are you running from him, then? I can tell that you're Exalted, and I do know a little bit about deathknights." Her tone is very polite, with only a hint of doubt.

She doesn't recognize the woman, but that doesn't mean much: the Abyssals have disguise Charms, as well as spells like the one she's using. On the other hand, she hasn't showed any sign of recognizing Anemone - and the deathknights she knows who serve the Prince are not the most subtle people.

To be clear, the first bit is an IC objection, not OOC - I checked Bushranger's character's Perception+Awareness score, and yeah, it's plenty to overhear a Lunar who's not being as quiet as she could be :smallwink:

[The Bushranger]

"Former deathknight," she says, tilting her head. "And...never in the service of the Prince. Thankfully."

Cool. :smallsmile: And that reminds me, I need to do the final tweaks to my sheet. :smallredface:

[Ifni]

"Former? Would you be willing to explain? I was under the impression it's not a job with good retirement benefits." Anemone studies the pale woman thoughtfully. "What name do you go by, incidentally? I introduced myself earlier, right? If not... I'm commonly called Anemone."

[Obscurejones]

The champions of the upstart gods think themselves the princes of the earth. Such is their folly. They are but usurpers. True power derives from those who made the world, who forged from its endless chaos a reality to suit their whims, who gave substance to all by virtue of their grace. The only true power rests in the creators. All other paths will fail.

Deep withing the solitude of his quarters Ganyard sits in the dark. All of his lights lie extinguished, the room lit only by the glint of Liger's fire rolling across his caste mark. He sits in meditation, in memory, drawing back to his initiation into the Althing Infernal, to the unholy brotherhood bent on the reclamation of the earth. He remembers his lessons on swordplay. The libraries of near infinite complexity. He remembers meeting the Yozi who chose him for his gifts.

He remembers the final lesson given to him by his patron. The true lesson of the bound form.

"We will need more space."
"To the deck then."

He strides forth making his way back onto the deck and taking in a deep breath of the cool sea air. Exhales slowly, savoring the taste of Creation. Speaks in distinctly Malfean Old Realm.
"None may bind the lord of all to form that he rejects. He has no defeat. He defines his own power."
As the syllables fall from his mouth in a demonic babble his anima flares for an instant, Malfean fire scorching the deck where he stands. In a blinding flash it collapses inward, driving the Exalt to his knees. When he rises he stands transformed. Once more a colossus he holds his arms spread apart, the two on his right gripping his daiklaive the two on the left shielding all three of his eyes from the sun. Brass plates race over his body, sliding into and out of place. He opens his mouth to sigh and fog roils out to leave a frigid mist on his limbs, followed by a loping tongue that more closely resembles a lamprey than anything that should be found on a human. More subtly, two slits on his neck open to the air, taking in a little of the fog and exhaling a fine mist.
"...Captain, I think I may have learned a new trick."

[AgentIndy]

Jeb's lips curl into a smile,"Malfeas does not hide indeed."

[The Bushranger]

"I took an early exit, without the permission of the company." the woman says, continuing the metaphor. "And I prefer to be called Shadow. A pleasure to make your acquaintiance, Anemone." She smiles, but keeps her hood raised.

[Obscurejones]

Bending his arms in, Ganyard's mutated monster tosses his sword from hand to hand. Slowly at first, then with growing delight and speed, he passes the blade from hand to hand, twirling it end over end. Within seconds it is little more than a silvery blur dancing around his body. The mist that flows from his mouth catches on the sword, frozen contrails tracing the arc of his blade through the air. Little bits of mist fall upon the ground, ice forming over the scorched wood, frigid air mingling with the smoke still rising from the anima's collapse.
"Glorious, this feels amazing! Complete control over my own flesh. The ability to call forth a monster at will. I'm beginning to understand why Luna's champions seem so enamored with their mercurial shapes. And when we speak of the usurpers, They spring to mind."
All three of Ganyard's eyes snap to face Anemone. The foul toothed tongue lolls obscenely from between the teeth of his grin. It seems to thrash about independently of his speech, the sounds emanating from deep within his chest rather than his throat. As he speaks it wraps around his sword, moonsilver and flesh entwining, a twisted cord.
"You said you knew my sword. And you seem curious. So I'll make you a deal 'Dragons Spawn'. The story of how I came by it in exchange for the swords origins. Come to my cabin and we'll tell each other tales to make the blood run cold and the heart burn hot. It'll be fun. We can roast marshmallows on my crown."
With a parody of grace he makes a bow to Shadow, two arms upon his stomach and two spread wide.
"That is of course once you've finished with her, miss. I'd hate to intrude."

[Ifni]

"I took an early exit, without the permission of the company." the woman says, continuing the metaphor. "And I prefer to be called Shadow. A pleasure to make your acquaintiance, Anemone." She smiles, but keeps her hood raised.

"Likewise, Shadow." Anemone glances at Ganyard. "That can be arranged, Wavebreaker. In a little while, then."

She draws Shadow off to the side, and murmurs very quietly, "I'd like to hear more of that story sometime. I have a... friend, in a not-unrelated situation."

Did you find a way to escape the soulsteel cage, to break that bond? Or are you still chained, as he is?

But she doesn't say that. She watches the Abyssal for a reaction, first.

[Orosboru]

Sierra silently walks below decks, settling downstairs in Ganyard's cabin. Her sparse belongings contain the spartan needs of travel - a blanket, for instance, a rat's skeleton, and Mori. The various lacey things are placed in their appropriate places, a great empty chest in the corner of the room. But the only want that hides amongst the necessities of life and death is a polished copper mirror.

She takes off her mask carefully, setting it on a stand on the table.

A gloved finger gingerly brushes her face as she looks at herself, brushing over scarred flesh and misfiring nerves. A muted feeling of disgust washes over her, and a old bit of anger rises up from the depths of her soul. Life was full of superficialities, it seemed.

Although her body was fair, if pale and anemic, her face was touched by some unknown trauma that she could not remember. Needlelike claws raked over the entirety over her cheeks, little fangs chewed off the fat of her face. Her eyes were sunken things, her lips uneven ruins concealing pale white bone teeth. She could not cry, she remembered. Her eyelids had been bitten off, but the master improvised such a lens over her eyes that now her tears dribbled down to her mouth.

It's not fair.

I am amongst the prowess of the fair, she thought to herself. And indeed, they were all beautiful and handsome, to have the world watch their glorious visage.

You're not glorious, Sierra. Mori silently said. It is fitting that your ugliness match your true self. No one will need you for what you are, for what you have become.

Memories of children of play, at soft murder and cruel laughter, of burning eyes and spit. She remembered Sijan, and grew hard and cruel.

Who would speak to a person such as yourself? How easily ignored you are, and how cowardly. The thought has occurred to you, it must have. They will wonder why you hide your face from them, and they will wonder if you have any other secrets.

Sierra looks at herself, at the hideous voice. "I didn't... I mean..."

Are you looking for a new father, now? Perhaps a lover, maybe? Small wonder you're hiding in another man's room. Maybe this Ganyard will want you for more than the arcane power behind your fingertips. Or maybe not. Men have needed you for little, Sierra. They never wanted you at all.

Sierra puts down the mirror.

She quietly puts on her mask.

She opens a window, and spits out into the sea.

[Obscurejones]

"...Fine. Till you ladies have finished your consultations."
Turning back towards his cabin Ganyard pauses. Frowns, his warped face twisting into a terrifying grimace. The door he passed through a moment ago is much too small to pass through with his Shintai at full strength.
What to keep, what to keep. Thoughts?
The eye is useful prince. As are the gills if our stay upon this vessel proves sort lived.
You doubt my ability to keep the peace, Demon?
...We just exploded on their deck.
How pragmatic of you.
For the second time in a day Ganyard collapses in on himself, his extraneous arms melding into the normal pair, his tongue retracting to a human length. The fog that pours from his mouth gutters and sputters before his breath is once more normal, save for a little condensation caught in the mist remaining in the air. Coughing a little at the cold, Ganyard heads back down the hallway, his third eye lighting the way with its fire. Bursting into his room he stops short, transfixed by the woman standing at the porthole. It takes him a scant moment before he catches the words to greet the masked figure.
"Good evening, Sierra. To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit? Come to read my flesh so soon?"

[Orosboru]

"I found myself in some company that neither requires my presence or my mystery, so I hid down below." Sierra turns from the porthole. "Every time I see you, you have a different appearance. It must be a interesting experience, treating one's body as a pair of clothes."

"But I have not come here to examine your flesh, tonight, my handsome prince." Sierra walks down to the foot of the bed. "This place is pleasing to me. I'll suppose I'll reside in it for the duration of the trip."

Sierra places the bare skull back into the bag, along with the copper mirror.

"The conversation up deck not to your liking?"

[Obscurejones]

Ganyard's face quirks into a smile. The eye upon his forehead blinks, reflecting the Adjudicator's confusion.
"The conversation chose not to include me and I chose not to object. Would you prefer I move to a different cabin, then? If you claim this one for yourself? Or were you planning to share a room?"

[Orosboru]

"If we are to share a prison on this wooden craft, of spray and salt, better be with similarly bitter companions." Sierra smirks. "Can you share? Is it in your nature to give what is yours freely?" She spreads her hands to the entire room. "I would prefer you to stay, yes. The insides of ships are dark, musty, and silly places, their stomachs warm and foul."

Sierra sits down on the bed.

"But what of your will, my gracious lord?"

[Obscurejones]

"It would be nice to have companion to share the darkness. And I enjoy your company, as much as I enjoy the company of others. You can have the bed if you'll allow me a place to sit. I don't sleep anymore."
Ganyard's eye blinks frantically as the demon within panics.
You are-
Gaining an ally on this ship. Calm yourself. Leave this to me.
Ganyard clears himself a little space upon the floor and sits with his back against the ship's wall.

[AgentIndy]

Jeb Alysis walked down below decks, into a hall of steel and other mystical materials. He placed his hand on a metal door, and it peeled open. The captain sauntered in as the metal resealed behind him. He stood before an obelisk, this one made of crystal, with a fiery sun burning within.

"Eb..."

And then he was hoisted into the air by an unseen force, as the light grew intensely bright.

____

Jeb walked back on the deck as if nothing happened.

[The Bushranger]

"Likewise, Shadow." Anemone glances at Ganyard. "That can be arranged, Wavebreaker. In a little while, then."

She draws Shadow off to the side, and murmurs very quietly, "I'd like to hear more of that story sometime. I have a... friend, in a not-unrelated situation."

Did you find a way to escape the soulsteel cage, to break that bond? Or are you still chained, as he is?

But she doesn't say that. She watches the Abyssal for a reaction, first.

"You do?" Shadow asks, arching an eyebrow in response to Anemone. "...perhaps at another time, in a more private place, we can discuss this, yes. But...it is troubling to share my story," she admits.

[Ifni]

"I understand." There's genuine sympathy in the (apparent) Water Aspect's quiet voice. She studies the Abyssal for a moment longer, and then continues, "I'm not a deathknight - but I know about the soulsteel cages. I know what it means to give up your name. If and when you feel like talking, I doubt you'll have any trouble finding me on this ship."

Anemone pauses, and then adds, her tone becoming impassive and clinical, "And if you have difficulty respiring Essence in Creation, let me know. I've dealt with that problem before and have some means to help." She waits for a moment; if the ex-deathknight has nothing more to say, she'll nod politely and walk away.

[The Bushranger]

"Thank you. I'll...keep that in mind," Shadow says, nodding in understanding - and with a brief hint of gratitude in her expression, before returning to her normal, impassive expression.

[Ifni]

Anemone nods to the (ex-)deathknight, and turns away, heading down the stairs to the room the Malfean has claimed. She knocks once, gloved knuckles ringing dully on the strange material of the door, and stands back, waiting.

[AgentIndy]

Jeb paced the deck,"Alright, given our current course, we should be there in a few days. I'd recommend getting some sleep."

[Obscurejones]

Putting a finger to his lips, Ganyard motions for Sierra to be quiet. With a dark twinkle in his eye he motions for her to scoot over a little and hops into the bed beside her.
"Last I checked it was open."

[Ifni]

Anemone pushes the door open. "My other business is concluded if you wanted to hear about your sword." Her eyebrows go up as she sees Sierra. "My, that was quick." She smiles faintly at the other woman; she'd be more worried if she didn't know she was Exalted.

Could she be akuma? But no, surely they'd be more subtle. Trying to find out more about the Malfean, and taking a traditional route to it? Past acquaintances? It did seem like a bit of a coincidence to have so many Exalts in the same market at once.

"Shall I come back later, if you're busy, Ganyard?" Her tone is ostentatiously helpful.

[Orosboru]

Sierra drapes herself over Ganyard like a particularly vicious scarf, a firm grip tugging on his neck and shoulders. Biting back a foxy grin, she sits on his lap, her legs dangling from the side of the bed.
"No, stay!" Sierra says with some amusement. "I was just getting reacquainted with this lovely man."

[Obscurejones]

Ganyard quickly tries to focus on a few obscure bits of occult theorem, particularly the bit about the infield fly rule. He manages to hold a straight face, albeit barely.
"I believe you were coming here to discuss my sword?"

[Ifni]

"Reacquainted? Oh, I wouldn't want to intrude on such a... touching... moment." Anemone's voice is rather dry.

[The Bushranger]

"Sleep? I prefer not to," Shadow says frankly, but sighs and heads down to her cabin.

[Obscurejones]

"Don't worry, it's not all that touching. My trousers are in the way."
Sitting up, but keeping Sierra straddling his lap, Ganyard looks slightly more serious.
"How would you like the exchange of information to go? Question and answer or a story for a story?"

[Ifni]

"Oh, a story for a story sounds well enough. And will you join in and make it three-way, Sierra?" Anemone raises a cerulean eyebrow. "... the exchange, that is."

[Orosboru]

"One way or another, it all sounds good to me." Sierra smiles. "I'm always up for a good round of gossiping amongst the beautifully heroic. And other things..." Sierra rolls around Ganyard, imitating a masked backpack, her arms curled over his chest and her legs crossed on the bed. "But a sword, he said? Such a terrible metal, moonsilver."

[Obscurejones]

As Sierra speaks Ganyard's sword thrashes within its case, shaking the slender tube where it lies upon the ground.
"Shame on you, Sierra. You've offended him. Best to calm the blade with a tale. Why don't you go first?"

[Ifni]

"Her, actually. Originally. Not him." Anemone steps inside, closes the door, and leans against it. "But I won't object to putting our mystery scholar on the spot." She smiles at Sierra. "What say you, Sierra?"

[Orosboru]

"Tis fair, I think, when I have offended something that I make my amends in a prompt fashion. A proper story, I shall tell."


Sierra's face is neutral.

"A moonsilver mirror is prized in the lands of the dead, for it reveals not what the ghost wants you to see, but what pathetic thing it was, long ago in the past. It makes the lush tables and cornucopias of the dead to be hollow, rotted things long since passed into dust." Sierra says whimsically.

"Thusly, in the name of the four sovereigns, the manufacture of such truthful items was to be considered taboo. Before then, many a feast or a banquet was ruined by the revelation that one's ghostly lover may be of some other unrevealed nature." Sierra smiles. "What truths will you reveal, little piece of another age?Trust that I call you terrible, for I am a manipulator and a conjurer of lies." Sierra says drolly.

"I carry a piece of polished copper, not moonsilver... for what I saw in your fair amorphous visage scared me to my very core. Which to say, the sight of my true self was so astonishing that I offered the mirror to a great lord of death, who took its truths along with it." Sierra says simply. "That is my tale, for now. I am owed one in return, I think."

[Obscurejones]

"...Enough to still my blade, I think. But not your story. So I'll tell a tale that's not my own."

Ganyard's eyes go distant as he speaks, recalling words passed to him by one dead and gone. Best to think of them at a distance.

"While the West has its currents and eddies, the East is home to changes of its own. They say that in the river lands Heros have arisen. Brave men and women, blessed by the sun itself. They stride the city states, bringing ruin to the wicked, and blessing to the good.

Their number is debated, largely do to their ever growing group of acolytes. The Five at their core are well known though. The Gethelson, Bastard of a Yozi and a warlord, errant prince to a city shrouded in Wyld and Shadow. The Glittering Diamond, champion of the Great Maker long forgotten, a vision of crystal melded to flesh. The Actress, who they say tread in heaven before her blessing, who could throw a knife sharp enough to cut away death. The Casanova of Scales, a Dragon Blooded who fell from grace and now seeks redemption with an ancient sword.

Last but greatest of their number, The Glorious. They say she speaks so beautifully that the sun steps down from the heavens and hears her every word. That she took an army of mortal men and made them spirits to better defend their homes. That she stared into the heart of the Principle of Hierarchy and was unbowed. That she brings all beings, Demon, Dead, and Fey beneath her banners. There are some that say she will usher in a new age, even if it means the death of the old."

[Orosboru]

Sierra laughs.

"I hope you have sterner hopes then 'solars make it all better,' Ganyard. I find that their kind is full of the ridiculous untouched optimism that is endemic in their kind. Who knew that even Hell had their fans?" Sierra lets go of Ganyard and stands up.

"As to this Glorious you are so fond of, I hope she can carry the burden of a new age on her doughty shoulders. From her circle's trail of destruction, it seems that they excel at destroying the old, but not so much building up the new. Radiant Solar Glory may make your butterflies tingle in your heart, but it won't fill up your stomach. In the end, everything remains the damn same."

[Ifni]

"The East is far away," Anemone says quietly. "But you are very close by - and likely to remain so for the near future. Not fond of Solars, Sierra? And you walk among the dead, and hide your face from the sun..." She shrugs, leaving the implication there.

(Although she's not sure it's her leading hypothesis, at the moment. Earlier Sierra spoke harshly of the Exalted, and their lust for power. Now that Anemone knows she's Exalted, and Sierra knows she knows, she specifies Solars instead. Pattern, or coincidence?)

She glances to Ganyard. "Nor is that the tale you offered me in trade, Ganyard, although I do appreciate hearing it. From what I know the Sun-Chosen are as prone to corruption and poor judgement as any other, and an army of Fae and demons and dead doesn't sound like the most appealing entry to a new age. But the East is far away."

"And some things change, Sierra. As the Solars - and the deathknights - demonstrate by their very presence."

She leans back against the door, and pauses for a moment, to see if either of the others will interject.

[Orosboru]

Sierra smiles shallowly, as if a child got a state capital wrong.

"I am reminded of the aphorism - the more things change, the more things stay the same. Including prophets of change." Sierra gives Anemone a glance. "I'm no hero. Not to anyone I know. And I hide my face from everyone, not just the sun. The dead walking thing is just another bonus."

Sierra pauses, as if considering a momentous issue.

"Are you insinuating that I might be a oblivion-soaked thrall of a Deathlord? That would be a logical conclusion, indeed. But I suppose that if I put on a nun's habit and preached Immaculate dogma you'd call me a woman of the cloth." Sierra clasps her hands together. "Mayhaps you accept the fact that things are rarely appear to be what they are. Another saying - do not judge a book by the duck on its cover."

[Obscurejones]

With a small smile Ganyard shifts his weight just a little, lightly bumping back against Sierra.
"My point, dear roomie, was not that heroes are real. At least not for myself. But rather this. Imagine if you will a young man beset by fear. He is a coward in the West. Lives in the path of a band of Lintha. And like clockwork each season they come, taking from his father, humiliating his family. But his father does his best to give him hope. Tells him stories. About heroes. Greater than himself. Greater than the Lintha. Greater even than the demons and the gods.

So the boy prays. And prays. And prays. He greets the Sun each day at dawn, sings to it at noon, and whispers to the twilight. And nothing comes to save him. No Glorious here in the West. Until he prays for deliverance during one of the raids. And something hears him. Comes in his dreams. And offers power.

If I were him I'd take the deal. Even if I didn't understand the consequences."

[Ifni]

"Ah. But power generally has its price." Anemone's gaze flickers briefly to Sierra. "Or its cost."

"And a sword came into it, somewhere along the line?"

[Obscurejones]

"For our hypothetical would be hero? Eventually."
Ganyard's smile fades as he speaks, wiped away by the truth.
"The power that he bargained for came from Hell. Eventually he arrived and was given access to powers beyond imagining. All the wonders of the yozis for the taking. All he'd have to do was ask, and promise to return their benevolence with his own. Or he could make his way in the world a pauper prince. Devoid of such gifts, but unburdened by their givers."
Ganyard whistles softly, a few lines of an old shanty. As he does he sword slithers from its case, crawling across the floor and onto the bed, twining around his body lovingly.
"He took a single sword. And with it a promise to an ol' grand dam to visit her children for her. And the blade has served him well.
I still think we should have taken more.
Quiet you.

[Ifni]

Do I believe a word of that?

... maybe, actually.

And in any case, it would be poor form to go back on a bargain.

"The sword's name is Eternal War," the Lunar says, watching the moonsilver writhe. "And its title is Binder of Chaos. That much is written in the blade itself. As that silver was once written in a Lunar's skin."

[Obscurejones]

"Not taken from her by force, I hope."

[Ifni]

"... no." Anemone walks over to sit down on the wooden chest.

"It's a... memorial, and a gift. Her last sacrifice, of many made for her cause. In those days... Creation needed every weapon."

"Do you know of the Balorian Crusade?"

[Obscurejones]

Ganyard looks up and to the right for a moment as he picks his brain. Frowns at the blank spot.
"...Actually that's one of the few things we skipped. Enlighten me."

[The Bushranger]

Meanwhile, unable to rest, a pale Exalt slipped from her room. And, hearing voices, paused outside the door to listen.

[Ifni]

"... really? Huh. All right then."

Anemone leans back against the wall, braids creeping along the planks of the cabin wall, as if feeling for cracks.

"Seven hundred years ago, while the world was dying from the Great Contagion - you know about the Great Contagion, yes? - the armies of the raksha struck out of the deeps of the Wyld, the chaos beyond the world, led by the general called Prince Balor."

She closes her eyes, and her voice takes on a rhythmic song-like cadence, as if she's reciting something memorized. Although she does hesitate now and then, stumbling over the occasional word.

"The Lunar Exalted are charged with the defense of Creation, and even hunted to the edges of the world they kept that trust. Dying of the sickness, with the world crumbling around them, still they fought, in battles they knew they could not win - to buy another week, another day, another hour."

"In the end the Scarlet Empress took control of the ancient weapons in the manse at the heart of Creation, and cast back the raksha. But she did so in the time hard-won with Lunar lives."

"Few remember them, those who fell at the edge of the world. But the Pact remembers, the names of those hundred heroes. Your sword remembers."

Anemone opens blue eyes, and looks at the blade, unmoving. "Her name was Yasammez, Full Moon's Madness. She survived much, although not unwounded or unchanged, and fought the war every day of her life. And then beyond."

She relaxes slightly, some of the tension going out of her shoulders, and her voice returns to its usual cadence. "I don't know how it fell into the hands of the Yozis. It's... well enough, I suppose, that you bear it now."

[Obscurejones]

Ganyard gently lifts slips from Sierra's embrace as he listens, motioning for Anemone to continue speaking as he creeps to the doorway. He waits until she's finished her description before flinging open the door, eyes and caste symbol blazing.
"Can I help you?"

[The Bushranger]

Shadow jumps with a start as the door opens, and blinks, looking downright embarassed at having been spotted.
"...no. No, thanks. I'll just be going," she mutters, turning to leave.

[Ifni]

"Come in, Shadow," Anemone says, rising to her feet. "We were just trading revelations, and I'm sure you have a few to share."

"So far we've established that Sierra despises the Solar Exalted, which given her demonstrated tendency for self-flagellation raises certain suspicions in my mind as to her nature. Ganyard took a deal from the Yozis for power, and stole a sword and ran once he got a look at the fine print. And I've just finished telling him about the aforementioned moonsilver sword's origin at the end of the Balorian Crusade, and I don't think anyone will be surprised at this point to learn that I'm Chosen of Luna."

"So. All Anathema together here, although I'm still not certain if Sierra is a Daybreak or a Twilight. And apparently disinclined to kill each other. Have a seat and join the storytelling, Chosen?"

Anemone has Charisma, and nooooo Manipulation.

[Obscurejones]

Ganyard sweeps an arm wide to welcome Shadow into the room.
"Come on in, Goth Kid. We're almost to a full breakfast club."
What the-
You wouldn't get the reference.

[The Bushranger]

Shadow pauses, then nods, managing a small smile as she steps into the room. Finding a chair and spinning it around before sitting bacwards on it.

"...thank you. I'm not sure I have very many tales to tell, though. At least, not that would be...suitable, for the present company."

[Obscurejones]

Ganyard leaps into bed, trying to resume his place leaning up against Sierra.
"Suitable hasn't been an issue, yet. We're a fairly understanding lot."

[Orosboru]

"You seem like a person full of hesitance. We are not dolls to be broken in your grasp. We're just as lost and confused as you are." Sierra smiles bitterly. She reluctantly accepts Ganyard's presence, resting her head on his chest. "What brings you to this rotting hulk of the first age?"

[The Bushranger]

"I look to...atone, for the things that I did in the past, in my grief and my anger," Shadow says quietly, looking away from Ganyard and Sierra. "I cannot, and yet I must still try."

[Obscurejones]

"...Bah to atoning. I'd rather rule. Atoning seems like so much blah. All Sturm und Drang and no fun. Come on, Shadow. You're a typhoon of death and destruction bound to a human will. Enjoy it. If you don't, who will?"
That doesn't count.
But it is in the right vein.
...Agreed.

[Ifni]

"Malfeas. Right. Your kingdom the five seas, Ganyard?" Anemone's voice has a quality of strained tolerance to it. She walks over to take a seat next to the Abyssal, and her tone softens as she looks at Shadow. "Look, you don't need to talk about it if you don't want to. But it's possible we might be able to help out; provide moral support, at least. And you won't hurt us by accident, or by lashing out in a temper." She smiles faintly. "This particular boat also seems fairly sturdy."

I kinda want to take Sacred Guardian Renewal + Silver And Gold Span The Heavens just so Shadow has someone she can hug without worrying about Resonance.

[The Bushranger]

"I enjoyed it once," Shadow says firmly. "Too much. When all is destroyed, what is left? Nothing." She sighs softly, then looks to Anemone and nods. "Thank you. Suffice to say that...well, many of the Dragon-blooded who have died over the last few years have done so because of me."

D'aww...

[Obscurejones]

Ganyard smirks at the bit about the Dragonblooded.
"I'm not sure I heard a downside in that sentence. They usurped the usurpers. They're basically double annoying."

[Ifni]

Anemone frowns. "The Realm civil war? Or something more local? I remember hearing about a battle in the North-East, but that's way over the other side of Creation. Or do you mean you hunted them...?"

The Lunar raises an eyebrow at Ganyard. "You know, you're not really making your case for not being on Team Yozis anymore."

[The Bushranger]

"That would have been hunting them. Every last one of them."
For a moment, Shadow's voice grows colder, and her fist clenches, before she relaxes with a sigh.
"I...blamed them all for what one did to me. Was told I could destroy them all. Did my worst."

[Ifni]

Which... can be pretty bad, for a deathknight.

And from what she knows of how Abyssals Exalt, she can imagine the pain that drove that thirst for vengeance.

Anemone briefly reaches out to touch Shadow's hand. "So what changed your mind?"

[The Bushranger]

"It was...I saw...that I had become that which I was seeking to avenge."

The Abyssal, for a moment, looks ready to burst into tears, but rallies, taking a deep breath.

"In trying to destroy the monsters who took from me what I had held most dear, I'd become the monster myself."

[Obscurejones]

Ganyard looks up suddenly at Shadow's choice of appellations, fire in his eyes. A little mist seeps from his skin.
"Monster is a bit of a loaded word, girl. I'd be careful who you use it around. Especially in this room. Or in the west at all, really."

[Ifni]

Anemone reaches out to put an arm around Shadow's shoulders. She knows that has its dangers, but it'll probably be all right so long as the Abyssal doesn't try to reciprocate.

The Lunar looks coolly at Ganyard. "You want to explain that statement, Ganyard? I see no particular reason for her to avoid the term. Vague threats don't qualify."

Incidentally, using the scene on deck to build an Intimacy of Rivalry for Ganyard, and Sympathy for Shadow. Not sure on Sierra yet. This will certainly be a second scene of Intimacy-building for Shadow, and probably Ganyard.

[Obscurejones]

"How would you feel if I walked into a room and said that I had fought so hard beneath the night sky that I had become the real Moon-Mad? It is a slur, but the slur of the princes of the Green Sun. We take ill to its misuse. Some would not even have given her a warning."
Ganyard glares at Anemone with a sort of righteous indignation as he explains his policy on the term. His tone softens considerbly when he turns to consider Shadow, going so far as to become gentle, as though speaking to a injured child.
"You are no Monster, Shadow. A killer, perhaps. Monster is somewhat more specific. Even then, when you killed as you say, you did what you thought you should at the time. I hardly think it fair to call you anything but mistaken."

[Ifni]

"Moon-Mad is somewhat more specific and in rather less common use than monster. It sounds like you're appropriating a common term as an excuse to justify hurting people who use it unknowing. Although I'm not sure why you'd bother."

The Lunar relaxes a little as Ganyard turns to Shadow. "That much I do agree with, though. Everyone makes mistakes. It takes both clear eyes and courage to admit it and try to fix it." She pauses. "... that sounded rather preachy. Sorry."

[The Bushranger]

Shadow stiffens for a moment, then leans into the embrace, ever so slightly, even as she does her best to maintain a stiff upper lip.

"Perhaps I was mistaken, perhaps not. Either way, I became that which I was fighting against, in my zeal to avenge what had been done to me by one. And...it's quite alright. But simply...well...I do not believe I can fully atone, for what I did, only mitigate it."

[Ifni]

"You do the best you can," Anemone says quietly. "It's all anyone can do, try to do better. I'm in... not quite the same situation, but not unrelated."

"My real name's Scribbler, although I usually go by Iris among friends. Anemone when I'm pretending to be a Water Aspect. I've had other names, too, but they're rather irrelevant now."

She glances at Ganyard and Sierra, as she rises to her feet, still resting a hand on Shadow's shoulder, trying to offer comfort. "Do either of you have more to share, or are we done for now?"

[Obscurejones]

Ganyard thinks for a moment and then shivers just slightly.
...Derek. Don't use it. Please. But I was Derek.
Having said his peace he rolls over in the bed and closes his eyes.

[AgentIndy]

A few days of sailing occurred uneventfully. A huge island was on the horizon, with four towers jutting out from its edges, while a an enormous tower was at its center, with a three pronged cap piece crowning it. There are at least two hundred buildings, with the entirety of the island covered in structures. There seemed to be a shanty town constructed on rafts that are anchored to the island. Six ships were docked on the rafts, though they were either run down pirate style ships, or merchant vessels.

Jeb Alysis smiled at this city,"Even in Requiem, civilization flourishes." He motions to a hologram,"Eb, send my voice through our the ship."

"Crew, we are nearing our destination. I request that the 'specialists' I or proccurred come to the deck."

[The Bushranger]

Shadow gave Anemone a quick smile and nod, the Abyssal's expression showing genuine gratitude for a moment before returning to neutrality...

===

When the call came, she was the first to the deck, her hood pulled up and hiding her face from the sun.

[Ifni]

Anemone joins Shadow on the deck only moments later, long blue braids gleaming in the bright reflected glitter of light from the water. The 'Water Aspect' leans forward, resting both elbows on the railing, and studies the city. "Busy place by the look of things."

[AgentIndy]

Jeb smiled at the city,"Didn't expect this...But why aren't they living in the city. Should we head over to them to introduce ourselves?"

[Obscurejones]

As he ambles out onto the deck Ganyard stretches, rolling his shoulders, bending his body back and forth. Shaking off the detritus of a week spent mostly in meditation. Throwing back his head he lets out a loud yawn, followed by a whooping noise.
"Simple, Captain. Either something in the city, or the city itself, doesn't want them to. People are coerced all the time. Learn to recognize it."
He shuffles his feet a little, checks the strap on his sword's case.

[AgentIndy]

"Hmm, I wonder if we could recruit them, if we promise to let them live on the island?"

[Orosboru]

"Living is so thin, out here in the west..." Sierra looks out from the side, next to Ganyard. "I didn't think that you would be tired, Ganyard. Was it so dark down there?" Sierra smirks. "Or was my company so boring?"

"Whoever they are, these islanders must be tough. I would be respectful, to a fault."

[Ifni]

"Shall we take a boat over? Your ship is rather large and I'm not sure how stable those rafts are. If those are merchant ships, the people here must have some trade with the outside world; hopefully they're at least somewhat accustomed to visitors."

Anemone gives Sierra a faintly surprised look. "Hard? They have the sea to live from - although agreed, Jeb, they might welcome the chance to move to solid ground."

[AgentIndy]

"We have a smaller boat...Who wants to go on the expedition to the rafts?"

[Obscurejones]

"In my defense, Sierra, I haven't slept in three years. And I did wait until the yawn could not be blamed on your scintillating company."
You say too much.
I say what I wish, Demon.
Ganyard nods to Jeb, stifling a smaller yawn.
"I'm no diplomat, but I'll tag along in case the natives get restless."

[Ifni]

"I'll come. I imagine Eb can look after herself." Anemone has done some exploring around the First-Age ship, in the past week. The Ebon Flow is an... interesting... entity.

[The Bushranger]

"Busy, and yet, so full of people who know not what they do," Shadow observed, letting herself simply relax for a moment, looking out over the town, and sighing, losing track of the others for a moment.

[AgentIndy]

"Still, raft towns are usually friendly folk."

[Ifni]

"Then let's get going, shall we? No need to trouble your crew, Jeb, I'm sure we can row ourselves. If you'll show us where the boat is?" Anemone stretches her arms.

"No offense to the Ebon Flow, but it'll be nice to visit somewhere new. And this does look like an interesting place."

[The Bushranger]

"The problem," Shadow observed, finally turning away from the bow, "is when the 'interesting' finds you."

[AgentIndy]

Jeb lead them to a long row boat, and stepped onto it.

[Ifni]

Anemone hops into the boat as well, sits down, and picks up a pair of oars, testing their weight and balance. (Only slightly in the interests of keeping track of plausible improvised weapons.)

Once everyone is in and the boat has been lowered into the water, she takes the oars and begins rowing toward the rafts.

[AgentIndy]

The rafts are fairly large, covered with about forty structures made out of wood. There was a raft jutting out that had several boats docked at it.

[The Bushranger]

As the boat gets rowed torwards the rafts, Shadow appears to be doing her best not to look out over the water. In fact, the Abyssal's face is looking slightly green...

[Ifni]

Anemone turns the boat toward the prominent raft, rowing with long easy strokes. She gives Shadow a slightly sympathetic but mostly incredulous look - she's heard some foreigners get sick on the water, but really? She wonders where the Abyssal came from, once upon a time...

Anyway. No need to worry about that right now; they have a city to explore.

[Obscurejones]

"Hold it in girl. If your stomach winds up on my feet you'll lose what little good will I have for you."

[Ifni]

"... Shadow, can you swim? Just for future reference." It hadn't even occurred to her before, but if the Abyssal gets seasick on a calm bright day like this - just how inexperienced with the water is she?

The Lunar pauses, and then adds, "You get used to the waves, after a little while. Take the other set of oars and I'll teach you to row? It might take your mind off, er, other things."

[The Bushranger]

"Yes, I can swim. However the motion of a small boat is...unsettling," Shadow admits, although she does muster up a withering look in Ganyard's direction. "...and thank you."

And so she moves to take the other pair of oars.

[AgentIndy]

Jeb looks at the rafts, "Huh...Looks like a welcoming party. It may seem like an odd custom, but a Captain is judged on what company he keeps, so it's my job to remain silent at first."

THe boat glides through the water, and sidles by the dock. A tan skinned man is on the dock, carrying a spear made out of jade. Exotic pelts are draped around him, and an amulet hangs from his neck. He speaks in a loud, booming voice, "What brings you 'travelers' to Requiem?"

[Ifni]

"Well, a ship, most immediately," Anemone grins up at him. "Aside from that - curiosity is the right word, perhaps? We'd heard stories, of a lost and ancient city."

She nods at the rafts. "I'm a little surprised to see so many here. But why do you live on the rafts and not in the city proper?"

Reeds, what is he? Tell me the strength and nature of his Essence.

Using Measure the Wind on the spokesman.

[AgentIndy]

The man laughs,"Good joke, we always need more humor in these grim times."

"The city is stalked by a predator, two decades ago we were driven out by something. A party of thirty men was sent in, they never returned. But, I don't like to think about that too much," he seemed to be a bit older than thirty,"I am Arblelest, Commander of the town guard."

Arblelest
Human
Essence:1

[Ifni]

"People call me Anemone." She nods to the guardsman. "Pleased to meet you, Arblelest. May we dock and join you?"

"How long did your people live in the city, before being driven out? Do you have any of the Exalted in town? Other Essence-wielders? Thaumaturges?" Her voice is curious as she reaches out to secure the boat against the dock. "It's possible we could take a shot at your predator problem."

[AgentIndy]

"Yes, you should be fine to come aboard."

"We have been on Requiem for nearly a century now, found it almost crumbling beneath the waves, all of the Exalted that were with that original group died or left when the predator appeared. Thaumaturgy is still practiced here.If you do confront that thing in there, you may not return."

[Obscurejones]

"And if we bring you the beast's head?"

[AgentIndy]

"Then you will have Requiem's undying gratitude, and at least my fealty for avenging my father."

[Ifni]

"Can you tell us anything about the beast? Appearance, size, powers, preferred mode of hunting? I'd like to help. But information would be useful."

[AgentIndy]

'The creature stalks in the dark, it has some sort of claws that eviscerate the organs out of you. No one has seen it up close, and we don't know if it is animal or man, or something worse. It can climb on the smooth stone of Requiem." Arblelest walks toward the central hub of the raft,"But,you seem resourceful," thee are men and women tending to matters on the raft, they are all tan like Arblelest, but are clothed in simple fabrics, with the occasional jade weapon at their hip. There is actually at least half a dozen orichalum pieces of jewelry scattered among the few dozen people you see.

Hanging from Arblelest's wrist is an orichalum tuning fork, about three inches long.He unwraps it from his wrist,"My father was the chief of justice before the Predator came. He left this...It commanded the city's defense system, so if you could make it into the core of the city, maybe yo could figure out how to unlock the power of the times of old."

[Ifni]

"Why, thank you." Anemone reaches out to take the orichalcum fork. "You have a lot of metals like this, here? Do you gather them from the city?"

It really is surprising no Exalts have gotten to this place before.

[AgentIndy]

"This metal is what was in the deepest recesses of Requem. It was found that there was a huge obelisk of it, but it is out of reach. Jade is what we trade to make ends meet, a huge Lookshy galleon crashed into the city in a storm thirty years ago, its cargo was several tons of jade, appraisers that have passed through cry a little bit at the wealth we had stumbled upon. Most of the jade is still in the city though,"Arblelest taps a pendant hanging from his neck,"We have heard that the Realm treasures this substance, but there was a debate over trading it all away, or using it to rebuild the jade obelisk on the East side of the island."

And then a piercing metal screech echoed across the water, emanating from the city. A 'something' balanced on the tip of the tuning fork tower that was at the center of the city, and it skittered down.

Arblelest shuddered,"It left its sanctum...Unconquered Sun, give me guidance..."

Jeb put on a pair of spectacles,"I need to find out... I've never seen anything like that."

There was a bridge connecting to the city, all of the villagers had fled inside, except for a few dozen guards and a dozen pirates. Their was a man wearing an ostentatious hat in front of them,"Ugh, just about to sample the local fare too, lets see if we can put this thing down."

[Obscurejones]

Ganyard lifts a hand as he voices his opinion.
"I vote we let it eat the pirates to get an idea of the size of its jaws. Then we rip it's thrice damned heart out."

[Ifni]

"You swear by the Sun? Hmm."

Anemone grasps the side of the boat lightly with one hand and flips up onto the deck. Something strange about that motion; the boat should have rocked more, if she'd applied enough force to propel herself like that. She glances at the man with the ostentatious hat and raises an eyebrow.

"Someone seems confident, at least."

She flexes her hands, and for a moment she is haloed in a nimbus of white radiance, before it sinks back into her skin. She smiles, with teeth that glitter silver in the sun.

"Arblebest, probably best to call your guards back to defend your people, if it gets this far. Thank you for your assistance. May we meet again." The Lunar bows politely to the guard commander, and then tilts her head at Ganyard. "Really, you're going to let the pirates have first crack? Generous of you. I'm going to get closer; come or not as you wish."

With that, she begins running toward the bridge. (Well, 'running'. Careful observation would indicate that her feet aren't quite touching the ground.)

Measure the Wind on man with ostentatious hat. Activating Claws of the Silver Moon in the scene-long version.

[The Bushranger]

Having listened quietly, Shadow shook her head, hurrying after Anemone. "It would be best to have the guardmen called back, yes. Some of my abilities can produce...collataral damage," she observes.

[AgentIndy]

Anemone's investigation turned up:

Human
Essence:2

The pirates cheered, and the man in the funky hat said,"We'll return with this thing's head, or my name isn't Captain Spyncer Jyn!" He held a cutlass, with a few alchemical flasks on his belt.

The pirates run into the city, weapons raised, with assorted battle cries.

Arblelest shakes his head,"We'll hold the rafts...The city runs deep, you may get...never mind, just don't lose that key."

Jeb umholstered one of his firewands,"This is the place in the Broken Winged Crane, I need to find this place's secrets," he started toward the bridge.


There was a scream in terror that echoed over Reqiuem's buildings. Jeb gave a grim smile,"We'll have to investigate then."