Ravenous Raksha Record IC

[ChaosArchon]

Orange cherry blossoms fall onto the azure grass as a green wind blows across the star covered field where the Lady and Her retinue have taken up camp. As another nothing star falls upon the Sometimes Plains, a great storm rushes across the horizon of chaos and all is quiet in the camp.

Then a burst of sound erupts and a rival raksha regiment marches towards Her Empyrean Madness, with the appropriate fanfare cascading across the fields. An ebon painted military strides gracefully and silently across the field until a herald rushes out from among them and proclaims, "It is my humble honor to announce the arrival of his grace King Emerald Feathers Flashing Cross Argent Encloaked Skies which Obstruct the True Story and Through Such Obstruction Continues the Lie of Form, First of His Name, Breaker of Realities, Father of Untruths and Mother of Falsehoods, Duke of the Never Lands, and Bishop of Naught. Long may He reign and bless us with his presence."

Once the fanfare subsided, a regal figure strode across the cerulean greens and nodded to the Lady. His firey voice warmed even Her chilled skin,"I come to challenge the The Lady, Future and Present Queen of That Which Is Not, Queen of Nothing for the title of Sovereign of the Raksha. Her claim to such a title insults me and Her very narrative is an affront to mine own. I demand satisfaction!"

[ChaosArchon]

The Lady looks at Her challenger and sneers with such crystallized malice that the sight of such a sneer would freeze the hearts of even the most stalwart adventurer. The Queen of Nothing rises from her frozen throne and looks at Saya and nods. Her shadow grins wickedly and speaks for its Sovereign,"Although we do not recognize your authority...or even your worth, out of the infinite love we hold in our regal heart for all the children of chaos we do so accept your challenge so that you may worry no longer who is the true ruler of Rakshastan. But these fields are far too demure for such a slaughter, and so at the behest of my queen I shall remedy this situation and fix the scenery."

At once Saya flickers to and fro across the blue fields until at last it leaps into the air and for the briefest moment appears to float there. Then a red flash obscures its form and when the light fades, in its hand flickers a crimson thunderbolt roaring riotously. The Queen's Phantasm then falls to the ground and impales the field upon the red lightning which rips up the entire scene until it is nothing.

For a moment the audience watches as they can see nothing but themselves surrounded by the raw chaos of the Wyld. It is quiet. Almost peaceful.

Then the entire scene is once again awash with light, but not the ephemeral light of primordial bolts. Instead a light blue sky adorns the top of the scene, although the sun emitting the light is conspicuous in its absence such is the fear even the Queen holds of Sol Invictus.

But the extras are no longer in gentle repose on grass, instead they are loudly roaring for their Queen in the stands of the great Colosseum they now sit in. As large as a city, the stands are still packed to the brim with those wishing victory for their Queen and jeering at the false King.

The "King" and Saya now stand upon shimmering sand which is ever mercurial in its color, shifting from the normal tan to pink to black and back again.

Its task now finished, Saya bows at her sovereign who sits in Her Imperial box. The Lady winks at her humble servant and nods to express her demure satisfaction at the work of her junior.

Sword Shaping Attack on the scene

Strength (6)+ Presence (4)+ Acc (2): [roll0]

stunt: [roll1]

[ChaosArchon]

Emerald Feather frowns and nods at his herald, not wishing to be seen dirtying his own regal hands on such a lowly feat. Moving like a shadow, the King's Ebon Herald darts around the arena laying permit violation after permit violation across the arena. After a moment's work the herald stops, taking upon a form more concrete than ephemera and looks upon its work. Seeing its task completed, it snaps it fingers and bows before its regal lord.

The sky turns to night and the Colosseum vanishes, replaced by an opulent throne room which would beggar even the richest of Yu-Shan divinities. The evening light hides behind a radiant stained glass window which depicts the Lord's tale. The floor is marble and the tapestry-carpet is adorned by gossamer braziers which heat the room, warming the court which whispers scandalous rumors about the veracity, or lack there-of, of the Lady's claim.

The court is all a titter at imperial presence of King Emerald Feathers Flashing Cross Argent Encloaked Skies which Obstruct the True Story and Through Such Obstruction Continues the Lie of Form, First of His Name, Breaker of Realities, Father of Untruths and Mother of Falsehoods, Duke of the Never Lands, and Bishop of Naught while whispering how surely the Lady cannot the Sovereign of the Raksha with such a small name. They laugh in their heavy furs and gossip across the smoke filled room.


Staff Shaping attack on the scene

[roll0]

[ChaosArchon]

As the laughs reach Her ears, the Lady stands and breaths in deeply. The air surrounding her chills, and this cold front spreads across the room; extending Her shining influence in this dark den of burning inequity. With a voice as cold as the vacuum of space, she breaks the frozen silence now infecting the room,"Very well. We will duel in your little throne room. Ready yourself pretender!"

Music begins the fill the room, a steady dull beating drum as the two royalties walk towards eachother and bow the merest fraction of an inch. The Lady gracefully twists around in the air, Her feet never deigning to touch the cursed court while King Emerald Feather turns with such celerity that his heels singe the carpet beneath them.

In union the Queen's Phantasm and the King's Herald count down once their lieges reach five paces from the center,"1."
"2"
"3"
"4"
"5"
"6"
"7"
"8"
"9"
"10! Paces, fire!"

Join Shaping (the Lady) [roll0]
Join Shaping (King Emerald Feather) [roll1]

[ChaosArchon]

But the Lady does not fire, for it is not in her nature to be so explosive. Rather she gusts forth like a cyclone from the frigid North to encase Her foes in ice. The millisecond the word "ten" leaves the lips of Saya and the herald, she unleashes but a sliver of Her infinite glory before the huddled masses in the hall.

And so she speaks to all those in the hall, but she speaks without speaking and in so doing so allows her imperial anima to speak for her as the shining light illuminates the foolish gossip-mongers of folly and the perfidy of their "King."

Then with a wordless gaze, She focuses Her entire stately prestige at the raksha who had deluded itself that it was more than Her equl, but that it was Her superior. A burst of light fills the room and once it fades, the pretend-king falls to his knees now aware of the gravity of his absurdity.

flurrying Staff-shaping action, activating Endless Armies of the Storm (5m, 1wp) and First Staff Excellency (x10) (10m) (5/20 motes remaining, 4/5wp remaining)

First Attack: Manipulation (8)+Occult (6)+Excellency (5):[roll0]
Second Attack: [roll1]

stunt:[roll2]

[ChaosArchon]

As Her glory washes over the throne room, Emerald Feathers does not rise from its fallen state. Instead it remains, pressed to the floor and shouts,"I submit, victory is yours."

"So you cede your title?"

"Nay, but I do cede this title fight."

"So you cede this fight for the title, but not the title itself."

"Yes."

"Then the fight continues."

"Yes."

Leaping up in between the blink of an eye, King Emerald Feathers leaps up and as he does, squads of hobgoblins materialize. "Guards! Guards! Seize this pretender!"

And at his behest, the monstrous minotaurs charge at the Lady with their infernal horns attempting to mar Her perfect personage. Countless guards pour forth, an endless horde of minions willing to die for their noble, regal master.

Emerald Feather's is now snared and cannot perform Staff shaping actions

Sword Shaping action

[roll0]

stunt [roll1]

[ChaosArchon]

For an instant it looks as if the Queen of Nothing might fall, and the Lady might lose Her crown. Wave after wave of crude matter clash against Her blade and claw at Her Imperial personage.

But then She grins, and in an instant She just ignores the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune and in doing so they vanish. She dodges blade after blade, time slowing and a dull drum beating slowly in the background as She does so. Her foes move as if in quicksand, their blades always just missing Her royal forme.

In an instant the Lady closes in on Emerald Feathers but even it is too slow to react as it swipes impotently at Her. As time continues to slow and arrows move through the air at a glacial pace, crimson light darts into the room ignoring such meaningless limitations such as time.

The bloody bolt in Her hand, She then in an instant impales the pretender on its raw energy.


Sword Shaping attack

Dex (7)+Dodge (7)+Acc (2):[roll0]
Stunt: [roll1]

[ChaosArchon]

For a moment, the court is silent and no onlooker speaks as the Emerald Feathers lies dead. Impaled atop its throne of fantasy by solid red lightning.

As its corpse begins to cool, the Lady vexes away the Emerald King's regal Staff. Only She would be allowed the title of Monarch and what was a monarch without their scepter? The Emerald Feathers' Staff is an opulent affair; a long golden rod adorned at the top with an open golden oval upon which emerald feathers have been strung.

As She looks over the staff, a laugh begins to fill the room. A laugh coming from the Emerald King's corpse.

Sighing loudly, the Lady looks at the corpse and then returns to inspecting the rod carefully as She attunes it to her being.

The corpse continues to laugh.

Finally the corpse springs back to life again and then winks out of existence only to be replaced with a young man a tanned skin and firey red hair...literally in the case of the hair. It is dressed in a plain white robe and wears a cape made out of a dazing array of feathers of many kinds of birds, all emerald. Around its neck it wears a gaudy, emerald encrusted necklace made out of silver while at its hip is a platinum rapier.

It takes the Lady's hand and kneeling, kisses it. "I do so renounce my claim to the title of Sovereign, my Lady. I do pray that my Staff will be in safe hands?"

"Of course, I extend such protection to all my subjects should they swear fealty."

"Alas my loyalty is pledged elsewhere but I do swear that I shall not attempt to steal your title or my Staff away from you."

"Or to assist or otherwise direct any other party to do so?"

"...of course my Lady, so do I pledge."