The Lotus Blossoms! - Volume II

[pfm1995]

Tuoni lands on the paving-stones with a touch lighter than the winds blowing across them, and looks at the monks with curiosity and a complete lack of alarm. He, too, had never actually been inside an Immaculate temple - it had just never seemed prudent - and this wasn't entirely out of line with what he had expected. Still, he'd thought there'd be... more of them? With six villages to draw from, each with their own set of bastards, orphans, and by-blows, he'd expected a thriving temple filled with worshipers. Had the Tiger God thinned their numbers so? If so, it might explain why the Realm and the Daughters were both so eager to set out. If she'd finally over-reached, and given Ahlat the excuse to revenge old wrongs...

He shakes his head free of what-ifs and looks to Leaf for direction - he was a stranger here, and didn't want to make too poor a first impression.

[Malozing]

Slang hops down onto the dirt ground to get away from Kelam who allowed Skymoth to hitch a ride on her shoulder. They didn't quite realize the group surrounding them and their Circle until a spearhead was close to their face.

"Erm..." Slang brings their hands up slowly to show they meant no harm. "Leaf?"

[Sticks]

Brown Leaf touched down in the center of the group, and was briefly obscured from outside view by her taller companions...which would be all of them. She sighed, then ducked under the captain's arm to face the spearpoint head-on. She glared down the haft, daring the shadowed figure on the other end to try it, just try it.

"Okay, ya'll best tell me what'n Heiesh's good name ya'll'r doin' 'round about this here temple. What, the locked gate di'int tell ya the dragons'd gone fishin'? I swear t' Mela's cloudy forhead if'n ya'll done messed up the library's filin' system, I'll have yer hides fer a prayer wheel an' that ain't no joke!"

Spoiler: OOC & Rolls

Show

Leaf has a full head of steam and is going for an intimidation roll here. Dropping a 2-die excellency too.

So that is CHA+Presence+Excellency+Stunt+TDS

(3d10)[4][5][9](18)
(3d10)[1][2][6](9)
(5d10)[3][1][6][5][9](24)
TDS re-rolls: (3d10)[8][10][1](19)

[Ascension]

Kelam's hand reflexively goes to her sword as the monks(?) surround the Circle. She doubts their numbers are enough to pose a significant threat, even if both of the saffron robes were to mark Exalts, but she doesn't plan to be caught off-guard if a fight breaks out.

"Best stay in moth form until we know what's going on," she whispers to Skymoth. No need to broadcast 'Anathema!' by transforming in front of the locals unnecessarily. She doesn't expect a response from the man-moth, considering that moths don't tend to make a great deal of noise, but she does glance at the shoulder where he perched during the flight... and her pale face goes a shade paler as she sees he's not there.

Meanwhile, the monks' numbers have grown slightly, as those slower to rise begin trickling into the courtyard. The tension of the standoff increments upward...

...until Brown Leaf speaks.

"Brown Leaf, is that you?" one of the monks asks.

"It is, isn't it?" another echoes.

"It is," a third confirms, authoritatively. "She's come back to us!"

The monks' aggressive posture evaporates instantly, though, with their caution gone, they crowd closer to get a better look at the valley's returned hero and her strange companions.

"You gave me a fright there!" the spear-wielder who Leaf directly threatened exclaims, but she plays it off with a nervous laugh and a smile. "Gave us all a fright with that entrance. We was afraid you were a Wyld Hunt!"

"So this is Brown Leaf?" a cultured, masculine voice cuts across the local monks' happy chatter, speaking Low Realm rather than Flametongue.

A shaved-headed Islander clad in pure white robes steps out of the pagoda itself. The hilt of a cruciform sword is visible over his left shoulder, the blade carried in a baldric sheath.

"I've heard so much about you from the people here in the valley. And I suspect the two of us have much to talk about, given what we share in common."

A shaft of daylight pierces the gloom as a disk of golden light appears on the Islander's forehead. The sudden light glints off the sword hilt at the man's shoulder, revealing the unmistakable brilliant gold of Orichalcum.

[Sticks]

Brown Leaf remained in the same spot, but gave the Islander a proper Immaculate bow. "An you'll be Wind, then. Jasara said you'd have Kidale's sword, an' I figured once I done heard'a trouble back home, it likely had somethin' t' do with another Solar. Listen, brother, I don't mean t'be rude, but I ain't been home in two years an' I got folk here I'm'a obliged t' catch up with."

She turned to the assembled crowd, took a deep breath, and spoke in a clear voice, the kind that had rung out over ceremonies and festivals on these grounds many times before. "A'ight ya'll! I aim t' see each'n erry one'a ya'll right quick now, but y' gotta know somethin' firs'! I been a lotta places, done a lotta things, an' met amazin' folk out there, an' I brought some'a the best with me! These here'r Kelam, Wirric, Tuoni Cap'n Slang an' Skymoth! They're good folk, an they's here t' help, so ya'll treat 'em right now, y'hear?!"

She looked back to Wind. "If'n you di'in catch that; Kelam, Wirric, Tuoni, Slang an' Skymo...where is he? Don't tell me he done found a cabbage leaf t' hide under 'afore the sun peeks out?"

[Ascension]

Kelam is wide-eyed, and a touch of panic sharpens her voice.

"I don't know," she says, frantically checking the recesses of her armor into which an insect could have crawled, perhaps fleeing the breeze from Wirric's stormwind, "I don't know where Skymoth is."

Wind is more concerned with something else Brown Leaf said. His composed, authoritative facade cracks, and he quickly descends the steps leading from the pagoda.

"You've spoken with Jasara?" he asks, "How is she?"

Meanwhile, if anyone is able to spare any attention to their surroundings rather than focusing on Skymoth's disappearance or on Wind himself, the light of the Zenith's caste mark reveals some details the gloom concealed. Including the late-risers who've just recently joined the crowd, Wind's monks seem to total a little over a dozen. They trend young, the eldest among them a man who looks to be in his late thirties. Some of them move a little stiffly; here and there rag bandages peek out from under a robe's hem or cuff, and one girl's cheek is swollen with obvious bruising. Beyond the light shining from Wind's brow, at the very edge of the courtyard, the shapes of a few other people can be seen, people apparently unwilling to come closer to the monastery's foreign visitors.

[Inspector Valin]

"Perhaps the wind essence..."

Wic's musings on Skymoth's disappearance are interrupted by his observation of the gathered monks. Thank Sol this hadn't turned bloody. Or rather, thank Leaf. Still, Wirric's eyes linger on the figures that still lurk at the periphery of the group. Strange, to see the monks split so. What separates the stragglers from Leaf's old friends?

An academic problem to return to later. For now he has work to do. Besides, he's not exactly much help in the struggle for hearts and minds. If nobody stops him, Wic picks a direction that looks unpopulated and starts to walk off in search of a nice isolated room that will serve for Elemental summoning.

[Sticks]

Leaf looked around. She was loosing the thread a bit, she knew it. It wasn't exactly the quiet homecoming she'd expected. Still, everyone was looking to her for...some reason. Best to keep everyone informed at least.

"Hey, Wic! the hill with the big ol' baobab tree behind the main hall is nice an' quiet, an you'll git light there sooner fer yer summonin'! That way!" She gesticulated as she called to the sorcerer. She knew he had his own problems at the moment, and he had come through when she needed him. If she weren't so mired down in...everything she would have offered to help.

Next, Kelam. "Don' worry 'bout it none, darlin'. If'n he don't wanna be seen that's his business. I reckon we kin trust him t' take care'a hisself."

Finally, back to Wind. "Okay, sorry, lot goin' on. Yea, I met Jasara, though Wic o'er there an' Slang here got t' know her better. She's busy fixin' up her manse, it got damaged when some'a our group was fightin' a bunch'a ghosts'n such. She asked us t' find you an' the others. I'll tell ya more later, but firs' I got questions'a my own. Why're you settin' up shop in my home? Why're you takin' on these folk an' dressin' 'em up like monks?" She stepped up to the taller monk and whispered the her last question so only he could hear. "An' what th' hell you been doin' what's got Khirigast's attention?"

[Malozing]

Though not comfortable with his moth form, Slang does look around to see where the Lunar could have hidden.

"I think Brown Leaf is right that he can take care of himself..."

'Hopefully, nothing bad happened to the Skymoth.'

The Tya notices the injuries of various monks and tentatively moves over to the girl with the swollen cheek as she was the closest. "Um... Do you understand Low Realm? If you would like I can see what I can do for that cheek. I can help anyone with any injuries, really."

With Leaf busy with Wind, it would have been nice to have Skymoth help translate in case most of the monks don't speak Low Realm, and Slang seriously doubts any of the monks speak Seatongue. They glance around at gathered monks; eyes seeking any injuries and noting who may need more treatment than the others.

Spoiler: ooc

Show

Rolling a Medicine + Intelligence to get an idea of how severe and how old the injuries are among the monks.
(7d10)[1][5][8][2][8][4][6](34)

[pfm1995]

Tuoni stays quiet for the moment, and for all that he seems to notice the mortal monks may as well be shadows in the night. All of his attention, all of his focus, is on the newfound solar in their midst. He remembers what Kidale said, his ghost so filled with rage:

"Wind, who destroyed my body and tried to deny me my revenge?"

This one was a hard one, then, below it all. He had had a chance to have is friend and circle-mate back, albeit as a ghost or something even lesser, and had rejected that. Personally, with his own hand - Tuoni had known shamans who couldn't make the same choice, to their regret. Wind's faith must run deep indeed.

[Ascension]

Wic:

Wind's small band of monks have worked to clean and repair the Sand's Edge monastery as they've put it back into use, but it was built with a larger population of monks in mind, and signs of neglect from its period of disuse still linger. Gates creak, vacant rooms lie under a patina of dust, scrubby weeds cluster at the base of the ancient baobab.

The underpopulated monastery offers no shortage of lonely places for Wirric's task, though the baobab Leaf pointed out would be particularly well-suited to the summoning of a wood elemental; a deep shadow yawning like a door in its trunk suggests that a spacious hollow may be found within the massive tree.

Slang:

The girl with the swollen cheek looks back at Slang blankly, but one of the other monks explains the Tya's intentions, and she relaxes. With bandages and loose robes preventing close examination, and the light still poor, Slang can't be entirely certain, but none of the injuries on display look severe. They do, however, show signs of having been sustained over a period of time, rather than in any single violent incident.

"Trainin' kin be 'ard," a woman who looks to be in her late twenties explains in heavily accented Low Realm, "But th' failins o' th' flesh only prove th' spirit stronger. We know these earthly bodies ain't nothin' special."

Wind:

"They've already heard of us in Kirighast?"

Wind is obviously caught off guard by that, but he has enough sense about him to mirror Leaf's shift into Old Realm.

"That wasn't supposed to happen yet. Of course I want everyone to hear the message, but..."

He looks at his little band of faithful, infinitesimally small in the face of the Cult of Ahlat, much less the Immaculate Order itself.

"...we're not ready."

Brow furrowed in concern, he gestures up the steps to the pagoda.

"Would you and your friends like to come inside to speak more frankly? Even if you all know the language of the spirits, my followers will be able to recognize the name of that city, and I don't wish to cause them alarm prematurely."

Kelam:

Kelam frowns to herself over Skymoth's sudden disappearance.

"I hope he didn't get caught by some other ethereal ship's extradimensional fish hook... that doesn't happen to Lunars regularly does it?"

[Inspector Valin]

This would have served me well back in Champoor. I know of two wonderful Greenmaws who would feel right at home here.

Wirric chuckles to himself as he approaches the badobab. It would be a fine place to pass the time, perhaps read were he able to find a book somewhere in the monastery, but for summoning air elementals it was quite unsuitable. Ideally he should start from a place strong in the the essence of air, such as the upper floor of the pagoda. Still, before heading off, Wirric takes a second to poke his head into the shadows of the tree. If it's been abandoned for so long, there might be something interesting inside. He lets the light of his caste mark shine for just a second, long enough to survey the interior.

Spoiler

Show

If there's nothing, Wic'll just try and go set up shop on the roof of the Pagoda instead, using Stormwind to get up there.

[Sticks]

"No."

Leaf's gaze was downcast, her fists clenched.

"I ain't gonna hide what's goin' on from my folk, seein' as it concerns 'em direct. An' I'll thank you, sir, t' not invite me inta my own home."

She folded her arms and glared up at Wind, a cold anger in her eyes that matched the pre-dawn winds.

"We's gonna have our li'l chat out here, so's folk kin hear while you tell me what you think yer doin'. If'n you don't speak our language, I'll translate for 'em. An' don't think I di'int hear her!" She pointed back without looking, her finger indicating the woman who spoke to Slang. "I wanna know exactly what you been tellin' these, these...innocents." She almost choked on the word. "An' where the hell Nasir is."

As the first rays of the sun began to peek over the monastery walls, they were matched in brilliance by Leaf's full-disk caste-mark glowing bright on her brow.

Spoiler: OOC & Rolls

Show

Okay, Leaf is not happy, and she wants Wind to know it and fess up. She's making an intimidate check so he knows how badly he's !@#$ed up in her view. Spending a full excellency with TDS.
So that is CHA+Presence+TDS(1)+Stunt+Excellency(6).

Spoiler: Rolls

Show

(3d10)[9][8][7](24)
(3d10)[10][4][1](15)
(3d10)[7][5][10](22)
(3d10)[4][6][8](18)
(3d10)[2][9][6](17)
TDS re-rolls:
(3d10)[1][9][5](15)

[Malozing]

Slang bristles at the sentiment the woman expressed. "I'm not sure that Leaf would agree with that..." Another monk limping up catches the Tya's attention. You really shouldn't be putting weight on that leg! Please tell me you at least haven't been training while you're injured."

Slang moves over to take some of the monk's weight and glares at Wind.

"You best answer her."

[Ascension]

Wind:

Wind recoils under the weight of Leaf and Slang's scorn almost as if their words struck physical blows. His face shows confusion and hurt.

"I know Jasara was hurting when I left Chiaroscuro, but I can't imagine what she told you to make you think I'm some kind of monster."

Though concern lines his brow, and tension remains in his voice, he straightens his back and reasserts a measure of composure and authority.

"Yes, I speak the language," he says, shifting into Flametongue (fluent, but a Chiaroscuro dialect, its accent and some word choices strange to Leaf and the valley folk's ears) and raising his voice for all his followers to hear, "and no, I am not trying to hide anything from my comrades. I've taught them more truth than this monastery's library ever would or could. I am not another deceiver like the Immaculate Order, feeding lies to keep the people in line. I simply wanted to make sure that we have a plan before I told everyone that we have drawn the Realm's attention."

That sends up a chorus of gasps from the monks, followed by a susurrus of whispered prayers to the Unconquered Sun and other celestial divinities.

"And no, they don't spar while injured," he adds in Low Realm, with a look toward Slang. His facial expression appends an unspoken 'What kind of fool do you take me for?' to the statement.

He looks back to Leaf.

"As for Nasir, if you've come looking for him, you're in the wrong place. He went with Demetheus. I believe they were bound for the Varang states first, only for a brief visit, and I don't know where after that. Perhaps Paragon?"

He shakes his head.

"Nasir's present actions are none of my concern. My calling is here. I only want what's best for the people of this valley, as you do, Brown Leaf. But that has to begin with showing them the truth of the Dragon-Blooded Realm, and the promise of the Sun's renewed favor."

His expression, and his defensiveness, softens.

"I'm sorry we got off on the wrong foot, and I'm sorry I forgot that this was your home for far longer than it has been mine. But can't you see that we're not enemies?"

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Wind is trying to erode Leaf's animosity toward him (or instill a positive Intimacy in her if she's not already developed a negative one), hoping to play on an assumed intimacy in favor of the local people by asserting that he has their best interests in mind.

Charisma + Presence + Harmonious Presence Meditation + Listener Swaying Argument

Spoiler: Roll

Show

(10d10)[6][1][6][8][10][8][4][2][5][4](54)+1 success

+ 1 bonus die for every +2 Resolve Leaf receives from any source, up to three (variable, so I'm rolling all of them just in case):
(3d10)[1][4][6](11)

Wic:

The glow of the Twilight sigil on Wic's brow reveals that the living wood of the baobab's interior has been carved with Immaculate sutras in High Realm, almost all of them evoking the teachings of Sextes Jylis. Might this have been the inspiration for Leaf's work on the Remora's tree-mast?

[Inspector Valin]

Wic takes a second to read a few of the prayers before withdrawing from the tree. He can't help but smile a little as he does so, running a finger across the script. It's strangely heartwarming to think of Leaf and her fellow monks living here. The world needs people like her. People like... hmm?

Even with his distraction, Wic can tell the scene around the courtyard has changed in tone. He watches, briefly, before turning to make his way up to the top of the pagoda. Probably best if he doesn't get involved for now. He's not exactly well placed to calm fraying nerves.

[Sticks]

Leaf's eyes softened, a little. She could see that Wind meant well, but she also knew that good intentions did not erase ill deeds, and he could not see the scope of the damage he was causing.

"No, we ain't enemies, but then, I ain't sure you know what yer doin'. Jasara had nothin' but good things t'say 'bout you...'bout alla you, honestly. You an' Demethus an' Kidale were like her brothers, an' she loves alla ya'll, Faka-Kun too. She wants you back, fer her family t' come t'gether again."

She turned and looked out on the gathered 'monks'. She knew them, of course she knew them. Farmers, carpenters, patrolmen, boys and girls who had grown so much since she had last seen them, but still bloomed with irrepressible youth under their bruises all stared back at her, dressed up as monks. That they had learned to fight was evident, but what else they had learned worried her.

"This is my family. I dunno what y' expected, comin' here, but I don't see how y'kin expect me t' be happy findin' you tryin' t' make my family inta somethin' diff'rent. You may've lost a part'a yours with Kidale..." She looked back at Wind with pity. "But Jasara's waitin' an' Demethus an' Faka-Kun are out there...so's Nasir, an' he may be more'a all our concern than you may think. You ain't lost alla yer family, an' that's somethin'. No need t' start over wit' somebody else's."

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Think I'll leave it there. Leaf hasn't answered all of his arguments, but she feels like she got to the heart of the matter. Not going to make this a social action or resist Wind's roll. He wanted Leaf calm, she's calm now, but that doesn't mean she's buying what he's selling. He'll need more rolls if he's going to get that. >=D

[Malozing]

Snorting at Wind’s expression, Slang helps the monk sit down and examines his swollen knee.

‘Fool enough to overlook a more severe injury from someone trying to practice in secret while minorly injured.’

Tenderly feeling about the joint, the Tya groans softly. “This won’t heal fully on its own. Your knee isn’t lined up, but I can pop everything back in place, but you really need to stay off of it for a day or two. After that, you’ll have to wear a splint and use a crutch until your knee is fully healed.”

If their patient shows any sign of understanding what they said or someone else translates, Slang continues to talk while prepping a few herbs from a couple of small pouches.

“So, I doubt this happened while sparring with everyone else. Others would have heard your knee popping out of place.”

The Captain offers a pinch of herbs to the man. “This will just take the edge off the pain while I pop everything back in place. Just chew it.”

As the monk chews on the dried herbs, Slang pulls out a couple of rolls of gauze and a small jar of an ointment. They hand the jar to the woman with the bruise on her face.

“This should help with everyone’s bruises.”

Slang places the two rolls of gauze aside and gestures the man to lay on his back. The Tya adjusted the monk’s other leg so that it was bent at the knee and the foot was planted on the ground. Slang moved to kneel next to the injured leg; one hand bracing the injured leg on the thigh above the knee and the other holding the lower leg just above the ankle. Slowly, Slang moves the lower toward themselves until a cracking pop sounded from the limb. They quickly move to wrap and compress the knee to prevent more swelling.

Spoiler: OOC and Dice

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Using Wound-Mending Care Technique to help speed up the healing. 9s are doubled. 3m for excellencies to round out the dice pool to 10.
(10d10)[1][4][3][2][6][4][7][7][1][7](42)I forgot 2 stunt dice. Rolled in OCC thread; a 9 and a 7

[Ascension]

Wind:

Concern twists Wind's features as Slang treats the monk with the dislocated knee.

"I didn't know you were so badly hurt, Fara... You shouldn't ever try to hide something like that! If this person hadn't come along..."

The Zenith breathes out a sigh and shakes his head.

"I'm sorry... We've been doing the best we can, but medicine isn't one of my gifts, and the village healers can only do so much..."

He takes a step back and centers himself with a deep breath, his hands briefly flickering into a mudra invoking Mela as he does so. Not all of his old Immaculate habits have been suppressed. When he's finished, he looks to Brown Leaf.

"We need to have a proper conversation about... so many things. But may I beg your patience just a little while longer?"

He gestures to the East, where the sky brightens inexorably toward sunrise, a band of orange-pink twilight gathering on the horizon.

"It's time for morning prayers. I would like you to see us welcome the Sun. You're under no obligation to join in...."

He nods to the edge of the courtyard, where the strengthening light reveals that the onlookers who hesitated to draw nearer when Leaf and her friends first arrived are ordinary village folk, still long-haired and brightly clothed.

"No one here was forced to join. They all came, watched, listened, and ultimately chose to dedicate themselves to hope, to the dawning Cycle of Day. Please... give me a fair hearing yourself. That's all I ask. If you're still upset when you've heard me out, that's fine. You're entitled to feel the way you feel. But please don't jump to conclusions too hastily..."

He ventures a shy smile.

"That's a lesson all of us 'Anathema' have learned, isn't it?"

Spoiler: OOC and Roll

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Persuade attempt to convince Leaf to hear Wind's message out. Charisma + Presence + Harmonious Presence Methodology + Impassioned Discourse Technique.

Spoiler: Roll

Show

(12d10)[5][2][9][9][4][9][4][2][1][6][3][5](59)+1 success

Wic:

Spoiler: OOC

Show

I know Wic technically didn't exist for most of the last day, but he's flown all night, and now he's starting on a four-hour ritual. Could you roll Stamina + Resistance for me to see whether or not he takes fatigue penalties on the binding roll at the end of the summoning?

[Sticks]

Brown Leaf frowned, but was too curious to pass up the opportunity. She nodded, and allowed Wind to pass her to wherever he was going. For her part, she walked to Kelam and took her hand, squeezing it for reassurance.

"I...I know. I'm okay, jes'...rattled. This ain't at all what I expected, an' it's only the firs' thing we seen since gettin' here. Jes...stay with me, okay? I'll feel better with ya there."

[pfm1995]

Tuoni leans over to Kelam, and mumbles "What does he mean, they don't train while wounded? How can they be expected to know how to fight while wounded, if they don't practice? And how can they train at all, if they stop any time someone get the smallest bruise? It seems very... useless."

He appreciated the Captain's efforts to help, and how much deeper her medicinal knowledge seemed to run than his, but her and Brown Leaf's attitudes towards Wind seemed counter-productive at best. As much as the idea may hurt, Leaf had made the choice to abandon these people here - a pain Tuoni was intimately familiar with; he'd made the choice to abandon even more himself - and now this stranger was here, standing, training, and preparing to fight for the very people she'd walked away from.

It could not be easy to reckon with that.

At Wind's offer, Tuoni's ears perked up. He hadn't attended dawn prayers for over two years now, and what small observances he made on his own simply weren't the same. How different would these southern prayers be, would there be bonfires, and songs, and the burning of the fey and beast-folk? Come to think of it... he glanced around, looking for Skymoth, and breathed a soft sigh of relief when he didn't see the Lunar. This could have gotten awkward, otherwise.

He dipped his mask in acknowledgement of the former-immaculate, and followed the not-monks to the edges of the courtyard.

[Inspector Valin]

As much as his heart had been driving him towards the summoning, there's a reason Wirric lingered in his observation of the tree and monastery. The ritual is never as easy as Wic likes to think of it. The art of elemental summoning demands focus, even with Wirric's long experience and love for the art, it's not something done lightly. And should not be done after a long night spent skimming across unfamiliar terrain, and scarcely able to stand.

But... but the alternative is to put it off. To delay. And if his vision was right, delay is unacceptable

And so Wic works regardless. Instead of standing, he sits upon the ground, the fangs of Lusus Nature resting against his hand to keep him conscious as he focuses upon the tides of air essence that run across the top of hte pagoda; cloud and wind and storm bound within the essence of his home Direction.

Soon. Soon I can rest. But not until I'm done.

Spoiler

Show

This is kinda bullcarp given that Wic disappeared pretty much first thing in the morning. As such he'd had a good night's sleep. All night = the same day that everyone else had before that. He should be tired, sure, but at risk of falling over? After a regular day?

Okay, okay, I'm done grousing. I guess I mostly just don't want to have to split from the group much more OOC, I wanna be involved in things! But if Wic's tired enough to take penalties he needs to rest, right?

(2d10)[5][10](15) Stamina
(2d10)[2][2](4) Stunt Dice

[Malozing]

At the insistence of the monk, Slang helps the man move over to the gathering for the morning prayers. Once he was settled, the Tya steps back from the group to Kelam and Leaf's side.

"Honestly, I don't think Wind's over-training anybody. Seems like that kid just wanted to prove himself by training through some pain and made it worse. Reminds me of Blue."

Slang sighs and allows their tiredness seep in now there is a calmer atmosphere.

[Ascension]

Wind:

"I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere," Kelam whispers to Leaf. She has her own concerns as she watches Wind and the monks ready to greet the Sun, however. While his background was, as far as she can tell, not so different from Leaf's, his reckoning with his Immaculate past has taken him in a different direction, and she worries where his fervor might lead if her nature were to become apparent to him. What place might Abyssals have in his new religion?

As the newcomers watch and wonder, Wind moves to the eastern edge of the courtyard, stepping up onto a short, boxy podium of recent construction. His monks form up into even columns, facing East.

"Maaake ready!" he calls out. The words are Old Realm, but a stiff and formalized Old Realm, a ritual invocation, not the conversational fluency used to bridge the language barrier between Wic and the rest of his circle. At the command, the monks... save the man whose knee Slang just reset, who glances back at the Tya as if to say 'see, I was listening to you'... assume a martial arts stance. It's not a particularly familiar style, though Leaf or Tuoni might recognize it from somewhere.

The monks hold their pose as Wind begins to speak.

He shifts between Flametongue and Low Realm, using the latter apparently for the benefit of his foreign guests, making a point in one language and reiterating it in the other. He says, roughly:

"Let us recall, brothers and sisters, why we are so thankful to the Sun not just for the coming of this day, but for the coming of the Cycle of Day, for the return of His Chosen who now walk among you. His blessing, his light, is sorely needed, for long have we labored through darkness, slave to the evils of the earth and the corruption of the flesh.

"For the Essence of Creation... the Essence of the Elements, and of the Dragons... is the Essence of the Primordial Creators, of a kind with the Essence of the Demons of Hell. The Exaltation of the blood, of which the Realm is so proud, is nothing more than a hereditary curse, leading the unfortunate recipients of its 'blessing' into venality, licentiousness, and hypocrisy.

"The gods of the earth, too, have been tainted through long association; this is why the Immaculate Order struggles to contain their ambitions, their lust for worship exceeding their station. And human beings, you and I, are robed in flesh of this earth, shackled to the body's sinful urges.

"But we know there is a higher path! For we have been Illuminated! The gods of the heavens... the Sun, the Moon, and the Stars... their distance from our world has kept them pure. And from their realm of glory, they, in their mercy, shine their light back down on us, giving us hope and guidance. More, we know they send down a greater portion of their light to a chosen few, imbuing them with Celestial Essence, the true Exaltation!"

The upper edge of the Sun disc clears the lip of the valley, and the monks let out a thunderous shout of acclamation, shifting their stance as they do. Wind reignites his caste mark, a second sunrise, and he breaks from his homily to offer up a prayer of thanksgiving in formulaic Old Realm.

When he returns to his prior thread, he continues:

"Take heed, children, I do not glorify the Solar Exalted to glorify myself. The power I have been given is meant to serve you, to give the faithful clear-minded guidance and just leadership. And as this light spreads, its power is meant to free us all from the tyrannical yoke of Dynastic rule. For Celestial Exaltation resides not in the body or the blood. It is a gift from above, a gift that can be earned by any person, that could be earned by any one of you. Take note of our guests, how they come from all around the world, from all walks of life... the power of the Sun, and of the Moon and the Stars, does not belong to any one people, nor will it ever. It belongs to us all!

"Once, the Sun withdrew that favor, and Creation suffered for it. We have all suffered, for centuries, beneath the heel of the demon-tainted 'Princes of the Earth.' But as we lay in darkness, we were not forgotten. As day ever follows night, so has the time of the Cycle of Day come upon us, and you are among the first blessed to see its light. You and I and countless others will soon rise, guided by the light of the rising Sun, and we will set! Creation! right!

"Praise the Unconquered Sun, the brightest light of Heaven! Praise the Moon and Stars who reflect His light! Follow the Shining Ones blessed by their Essence, and strive for a day in which there is no darkness!"

"Praise the Sun!" the monks echo, and throw their hands up toward the heavens. "He who vanquishes the darkness!"

Wic:

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Point fairly taken, and you rolled well considering your pool. Would you object to just a -1 penalty on the binding roll?

[Sticks]

Brown Leaf gave Kelam's hand a quick squeeze, then stepped down among the assembled 'monks'. She walked among them, familiar faces all lined with new worries. Their eyes squinted towards the fair-skinned man raised above them on his dais, full of certainty and purpose. Her sandaled feet crested the tops of the grass, wet with dew and cold in the shade. She looked around, noting the formal ritual stances, so like Wind's rigid diction in Old Realm. She stood in the middle of the neat columns, a head shorter than most and looking so very, very tired. A night of nervous anticipation in-flight had done her no favors, her simple robes hung off her shoulders and chest, her belt needed cinching and her face was wan in the early-morning light, but her eyes burned fiercely as the sun reached them, scattering gold flecks on her dark-brown irises.

"That's how it is, is it? I can't believe what I'm hearin'. I don't believe ya'll'r buyin' this. Since when did the folk'a this valley, our valley, need t' be told how t' see the world? Since when did we need t' be called 'children'? By what authority does this man here stan' above us? None more'n I have, that's fer sure." Her caste mark flared, waves of bright essence poured off of her as she stepped into a kata, not the one the would-be monks used, but the solid, confident motions of Paisap's Earth Dragon. Her core was strong, her shoulders flexed, each movement was firm, assured almost forceful, but no clouds of sand rose from her feet. She finished with those feet firmly planted, she drew her arms up, not as the supplicants had, but straight above in imitation of Mount Meru, then she brought them down in a slow, measured motion that matched her breath, exhaling in a flow of essence.

"He ain't no greater chosen'a the Sun than me, no greater Immaculate Monk than me. The dif'rence is, I been where he ain't. I can't speak fer' him, though he seems glad t' speak fer the Sun an' all its chosen. I don't believe in speakin' fer other folk, I can't say why Sifu Thousand Grains came t' this valley t' build this temple, only that he did, with the people who live here. He came t' ask if they'd have him, an' when the people said yes, he done pitched in alongside 'em, here an' in the fields. I can't speak fer him, but I don't believe it were arrogance what caused a 'venile, hypocritical an' licentious' Exalt cursed with demon-essence t' roll up 'is sleeves an' muck in with valley folk. I don't believe it 'cause I seen the bad, the wicked the arrogant..." she paused and cast her gaze over Wind "an' I ain't found thems t'be traits unique t' the Dragon-Blooded. Since I left here, I met lotsa folk from all dif'rent walks, includin' a fair few'a thems we were brought up t'call 'Anathema'. Folk like me an' Wind an' my friends here, an lemmie tell you they run the gamut too. There's good-hearted leaders like Cap'n Slang, o'er there, an' there's less-good folk too. I met a king of a land, farther'n I care t' travel but pretty-dang close in th' great scope'a the world. Man was radiant in the Sun's essence, beautiful an' magestic, the true picture'a kingship...an' he used his people as foot-stools, saw 'em as disposable, not worth 'is time."

She cast her eyes downward, rolled her head once one way, then the other. "He's dead now, folk couldn't stomache 'is hypocrisy. His darkness was too personal, his pride more valuable'n his conscience. He was deservin'a the Sun's blessin'...Like me'n Wind. He di'int have what I got, what Slang'n Tuoni'n Kelam...an Wic, come ta think of it, have all got. We got somethin' 'sides ourselves we wanna protect, not jes' protect, but care for. My greatest fear after leavin' home was that I'd come back an' ya'll wouldn't be able t' recognize me, that I wouldn't deserve th' love ya'll gave so freely t' that lil' girl that Thousand Grains brought in on 'is back...an instead I find somebody adrift livin' in the temple we built. I ain't mad, it's what the temple's for, Thousand Grains certainly never turned away a lost soul...but most folk who turned up here knew they was lost."

Finally, she looked directly at the other monk. "No matter how brightly you make yersself shine, you ain't gonna banish yer own darkness, an' there ain't no darkness so deep you can't find the light in it. Enough'a all this duality, folk here ain't got time fer it. They're practical people, honest an' hard-workin'. They got nothin' t' prove, not t' me and certainly not t'you. I ain't gonna let yer existential crisis endanger my family no-longer, Wind."

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Leaf's already intimidated the man, and that didn't accomplish much. This time no social rolls, just Leaf getting serious...and by getting serious, I mean two levels of Increasing Strength Exercise during that Immaculate Kata. She's ready to go, either to fight or to get to work, we'll see which it is.

[Malozing]

When Leaf steps forward to say her piece, Slang moves closer to and slightly in front of Kelam. Wind’s philosophy leaves little room for those like the swordswoman. However, Leaf’s counterargument brings a wide smile to the Tya’s face.

’That monk’s always rushing to fix everything at once.’

”Not that this debate shouldn't happen, but Leaf maybe we should get some sleep. At least, so tempers don't flare unnecessary.”

[Ascension]

Wind frowns at Brown Leaf's disapproval.

"I'm not saying that the Solar Exalted are perfect. We are human... we are still of Creation, even blessed as we are. But we are Chosen. Empowered by the will of the Lord of Heaven, not a whim of the blood. We have a higher purpose."

He shakes his head.

"Please, Brown Leaf... I understand sentimentality for the Order. It is our mother, our father... I know it's hard to look past that. But you can't equate our Exaltation with that of the Dragon-Blooded. Don't glorify them. Don't debase yourself."

Wind steps down from his pedestal and crosses the distance to stand only about six feet in front of Leaf. He is taller than the Harborhead native, even on level ground, but, with the rising Sun himself at his back, his caste mark seems smaller, dimmer in comparison. There is a deeply felt sadness in his eyes as he faces his fellow Zenith, a sadness... and pity.

"You asked your people when they had to be told how to see the world..."

Palms open, he gestures outward, encompassing the monastic complex.

"What happened here?" he asks, gently, quietly. "What is the Perfected Hierarchy?"

Murmurs run through the crowd of Illuminated monks, and their precise formation fractures. Caught in the crossfire between two of their idols, two of the Shining Ones, they waver.

Wind takes a step closer to Leaf, speaks a touch softer. While his speech is still in Flametongue, his words are meant for his counterpart, not the crowd.

"Kindness can be control. The Order knows this."

Kelam winces. Her hearing is acute, and she's learned a little Flametongue from Leaf. She caught that. And as much as she's there for Brown Leaf, as fully supportive as she longs to be... her memories of Skullstone are too acute for her to deny that there could be truth in Wind's implication.

"Hold on a moment," she murmurs to Slang. "We do need sleep, but... some conversations won't wait."

[pfm1995]

Standing in the back, with the broken-knee'd monk helpfully translating for the strange foreigner, Tuoni's grip shifts on his staff as he watches and listens. These people and their movements, their katas that are flawed only in that the ones practicing them are mortal - they feel like a parody, a mummer's act writ large of an Immaculate order rooted in the sky instead of the earth. To it's undoing he was sure, as every word Wind had said so far he knew, empirically, to be false. The Dragonblooded, for all their cruelties, had been on the whole kind to creation. Was not the royalty of Linowa, a nation blessed by the Unconquered Sun, of the blood? When their enemies had encircled them and come for their blood, had not the Dragonblooded fought and died in their defense? That they failed was irrelevant - they had been there, when the Bull had sought to kill them all. And this palaver that the Chosen of the Celestial bodies were in any way superior; Tuoni had seen Lunars, seen Sidereals, seen them fight and kill each other with the same abandon as two drunks in an alley. Seen Solars who betrayed their subjects to the fey.

But it was his last point that rankled the shaman the most. As Kelam stepped forwards, Tuoni did as well and his limping gate carried him through the crowd of mortals like an ill wind. His voice was cold as winter lead, and his words were like hammers as he spoke for the dead.

"Kidale would disagree."

Chosen... Chosen for what? For death? Sol Invictus chose me for exaltation in the middle of a Realm satrapy. Surrounded by a Delzahn nobleman's guards. How was that meant to lead anywhere but to a Wyld Hunt being called? How was that anything other than a fatal curse?

"If what you say is true, Sol Invictus murdered your friend as surely as Demetheus. His greater purpose? Death, and an existence as an unhappy ghost. No, the only greater purpose here is what you would choose to grant to his death, and in so doing dishonor him and neglect the lessons of your own failure." Tuoni waves an arm over the assembled crowd. "Look around you. You are making the exact same mistakes, moving too soon, trusting in your own power over that of an Empire - save that now you are in command, and not Nasir."

And the result would be the same, Tuoni was certain of it. The Realm would come, in all its glory, and the people of this valley would rise up against them. And they would die - if not now, then a year from now when the trade caravans stopped coming in and the Dragonblooded tightened the noose. When all gods still loyal to the Immaculate Order abandoned them, fouled their harvest. And Wind would not be able to burn them all. Even if Brown Leaf, himself, and all the rest of them stayed to help... the Realm would, eventually, win. Tuoni had been there, he had seen what it looked like when the Realm marched to war.

"What greater purpose do you see in your own deaths?"

[Sticks]

Brown Leaf released a slow breath, essence still cascading off of her scalp and shoulders like fine golden mist. She met the other Zenith's eyes, saw the offered olive branch, and made her decision.

"I ain't gonna throw you out, Wind, but I can't permit this t' continue. Ferget exaltation an' the perfected heirarchy, this is 'bout bein' responsible fer the folk aroun' you. You came t' my homeland lookin' fer...I dunno what, redemption? Purpose? Well this, them..." she gestured about at the assembled 'monks' "...they ain't it. They's honest folk, hard workin' an' good-natured, as I'm sure you learned. They work the land, they herd, honor their ancestors an' the spirits. It ain't no Perfected Hierarchy, but it's worked for 'em for generations, an' Sun help me it kin go on fer a hundred generations further if'n I have any say in it. They got families, work, goals an' dreams an' purpose enough."

She walked past him and stood before the podium. It was well-positioned, a good commanding view of the training ground, facing just the right direction for sunrise. She laid a hand on it, and with a casual flick of the wrist, sent it tumbling end-over-end. "Tuoni's right, Wind. You're jes' makin' history repeat, an' I ain't gonna let it happen here." She looked at the shaken villagers, saw their doubts, and smiled reassuringly. "I ain't gonna abandon ya'll, I never did. You an' this valley ain't never left my prayers, an' now I'm back. We're gonna protect our home, y'hear?"

[Ascension]

Wind flinches at the dual rebukes, dual knives to his heart. Before he can muster a response, his faithful speak up for him.

"You... did, though," a boy speaks up, his eyes locked on Brown Leaf. He can't be much more than fifteen. "Leave us, I mean."

"We 'preciate yer prayers," an older woman agrees, "but they ain't half as useful as yer bein' here."

"Lou-Khan got bored fer a while, without you to play with," the eldest man among the monks adds, in a deep basso, "It were Wind who set her straight, when he got here."

Wind looks to Tuoni as he breaks his silence. There is worry in his eyes, but his voice is firm.

"I was not blind to the lesson of Kidale's death. I know righteous purpose alone is not strength enough to set the world to rights," he says, "But I have never intended to throw away anyone's lives. Kirighast was not meant to hear of this, not at this stage. Since they have, we will have to leave, at least for a time. My monks, and all the valley's shrines and icons to the Sun... we won't be here when the Realm arrives. They wouldn't pursue us south, into the desert... or perhaps the cult of the Daughter of Elegiac Winds might be able to give us shelter; I have heard rumors that their cells in this region have a Lunar protector."

He nods; he's convinced himself of this change of plans.

"We will endure the persecution we suffer, the trials and tribulations of life in this corrupt world. And still the light will spread. All the strength of empire cannot slay an ideal. The Day still comes; the might of the Shining Ones will be united against the Dragons' get; and we will, ultimately, triumph. The Sun may set for a time, but He will never been conquered. I have faith in this."