The Convergence of Sky: An Exalted campaign.

[Ascension]

"Your crisis is averted!" Walda announces, cheerfully, as Adorei joins the conclave within the stormwinds. "Mask has power enough now to supplement our food supplies. Plus..."

He tosses his soapstone into the air and catches it.

"We have an excuse to hunt down that craven Fae prince."

[pfm1995]

"Oh, joy." Adorei drawls, stalling for time while he scrambles to process this. "At least it was only a day wasted. My men will continue with the proposed plan regardless; they will be leaving tomorrow if all goes well. I trust they will not be molested by your own." If the Mask really is powerful enough now to supply food for this many hungry warriors, what might it be able to do when fully empowered? Would it be possible to found a city here? Would it allow it? After all, given the choice between following Walda and following their bellies, which way would his bandits fall? Inquiries would need to be made. "At any rate, apparently we're being ask to hunt down a fey? Well, I suppose we do have a recently-fled hobgoblin who might provide us with a trail - assuming one of you who pride yourself on your hunting abilities are able to follow it, of course. If not, I suppose we'll just be using a compass heading."

[Sticks]

Mask's image coils in the air, their forked tongue flicking through ivory-scaled lips. "We will have to rely on your native talents, yes. All we know is the direction the fifth chosen last stood before the Fae took them. By fire and by earth, with a good deal of wood was their path to us, but they were diverted, intercepted and ensorcelled before they reached us."

The winged serpent spirit flutters briefly, looking quizzical. "Curious...now we think on the matter, the fifth chosen was almost the first. They were close, very close to our prison before they were taken, some days before any of the others arrived. We sensed them, felt their gaze intent upon the beacon we provided...but then they were gone, whisked away from us by Fae magics. It was in response to this threat that we raised the wind-wall, and came so dangerously close to our doom. Please, twice-chosen, find your colleague in the Fae's dominion, retrieve their beacon that shares our essence and return to us. With that conduit in worthy hands again and the righteous crew assembled, we will no-longer fear."

__________________________________________________ __________________________________________________ ___________


Unheard by other ears, a whisper in Mask's voices reaches The Outlander's ears. "Nimbus, we have a matter to discuss at your convenience. Please return to us alone before you depart."

[Inspector Valin]

The Outlander manages a winsome grin at Adorei's return and remarks. Things aren't better yet, but... they're getting there. They are learning. They're coming together to help the spirit. Even if it feels like two steps forward, one steps back, there's reason to hope they'll make it through, help Mask and everything will finally work out.

Then... the message. The strange Dawn doesn't betray any hint of it for the moment, turning away from the group for a second as they continue talking. This is... a surprise. She's unsure what Mask might require her counsel over. Did the spirit simply want to reminisce with Nimbus some more? That, she can handle... but the secrecy is a touch concerning.

Still, Mask has more than earned their trust. The Outlander is swift to leave, checking her few belongings are in good order and that her tent has been undisturbed. No one in either camp is likely in a hurry to mess with the possessions of a Solar, but it's better to be safe than sorry. Soon enough, as the group are making their preparations to depart on their fae hunt, the traveller makes her way back to her friend-of-another-life, smiling much as ever she might.

[pfm1995]

What with everything being packed already, it's a matter of moments for Adorei and Bosro to be ready to leave. The stouter Nellens is carrying about half again as much as Adorei himself but doesn't seem the worse for it, broad shoulders bobbing behind Adorei as he glides through the snow.

"Well, then. Which one of you will be leading this hunt?"

[Sticks]

The Cell:

Mask's form floats above the ice-column, wings shifting ever-so-slightly as The Outlander approaches.

"Nimbus, thank you for returning. We have a gift for you. Well, in truth we are returning your property, though many a mortal lifetime has passed since you last possessed it."

There is a slight grinding sound as the pillar rotates counter-clockwise, ice-flecks falling as it rises to stand a head taller than Outlander. Mask's form remains in-place, the ice surrounding the spirit's projected essence. Somehow it looks more contained this way, as though the god-creature's imprisonment now extended to this illusory manifestation too. A seam opens in the ice, and a perfectly rounded sphere falls out, angled perfectly for Outlander to catch it. Though it appears made of ice, it is warm to the touch and dry.

"The hearthstone to our prison-manse. It is a meek thing now, as we require so much of the manse's power to sustain ourselves, but this much we can spare. As the reincarnation of our youngest jailer and dear friend, it is yours. We hope it can serve as a reminder of the bonds we shared with your past self, and a tool for you in your endeavors." There's no mistaking it, Mask's voices hold a tinge of sadness. "We regret the secrecy of this gift, but we feared sowing dissent in your companions if we gave this openly. Such fragile bonds need bear no extra strain..."

[Ascension]

"That's actually not a bad question!" Walda allows Adorei. He grins to himself, grins at the dragon, grins at Decks. He's in a good mood. The stressful part of today has been resolved already, with little effort on his part, and he has something to do, satisfying prey to hunt... Adorei might even stop whining quite so much with the bulk of his retainers bound for home. Really, this is all about the best he could've hoped for.

"What do you say, Decks?" he asks, "Noses or eyes? Wolf? Owl? ...Leopard?"

[Malozing]

Decks yawns while he thinks for a moment."It'll be harder to get a scent trail on the bastard due to time and the fact he flew away. You track as an owl, and I'll find food along the way."

[Inspector Valin]

The Cell:

Mask's form floats above the ice-column, wings shifting ever-so-slightly as The Outlander approaches.

"Nimbus, thank you for returning. We have a gift for you. Well, in truth we are returning your property, though many a mortal lifetime has passed since you last possessed it."

There is a slight grinding sound as the pillar rotates counter-clockwise, ice-flecks falling as it rises to stand a head taller than Outlander. Mask's form remains in-place, the ice surrounding the spirit's projected essence. Somehow it looks more contained this way, as though the god-creature's imprisonment now extended to this illusory manifestation too. A seam opens in the ice, and a perfectly rounded sphere falls out, angled perfectly for Outlander to catch it. Though it appears made of ice, it is warm to the touch and dry.

"The hearthstone to our prison-manse. It is a meek thing now, as we require so much of the manse's power to sustain ourselves, but this much we can spare. As the reincarnation of our youngest jailer and dear friend, it is yours. We hope it can serve as a reminder of the bonds we shared with your past self, and a tool for you in your endeavors." There's no mistaking it, Mask's voices hold a tinge of sadness. "We regret the secrecy of this gift, but we feared sowing dissent in your companions if we gave this openly. Such fragile bonds need bear no extra strain..."

The Outlander takes the stone with reverent awe, loosing herself in the glinting sphere. It's a few seconds before she snaps out of it, nodding along. He'd been... smart about this. Unfortunately. She's not sure either how their mutual ally showing her favour would play with the rest of the band.

"Thank you, Mask! I... appreciate your trust. I'll keep it safe." Taking the orb closer, the stranger's metal clothes shift, bringing the stone into itself. The Outlander doesn't seem to notice, looking up at the spirit with a look that's still a little wowed. "Even if it was mine before, it's still important to you. You could've kept it to yourself and I wouldn't have known. I don't have a lot of friends, or people who trust me. I..."

The Outlander is quiet for a long moment, locked in an internal argument with herself. Images of Walda, Decks and Adorei play out before her eyes. Rather than finish her prior thought, she simply bows her head to Mask, before looking up at her 'prisoner' with a smile. "This means a lot. Thank you."

[Sticks]

The Cell:

Mask's illusory wings beat once, and The Outlander can almost feel the cool rush of air from the motion. "We are gladdened by your acceptance. Sadly, the stone's power is not what it once was, and nor are we. We draw much of the Manse's energy to ourselves, and as such, the stone is much diminished. The more we can draw on the other demenses, the more power we can relinquish back into the Manse, which will empower your stone. When we can draw upon all five, you will become the master of the Cell, chief gaoler, and the inheritor of the first Nimbus's memory. It...is apt, we feel, that the stone falls to you."

The gestalt god's tone is glad, but with more than a hint of melancholy. It's likely best to depart. There is a sense of familiarity to the stone, and as Outlander peers at it, she feels a shift around her midsection. Her garments, ill-defined and mysterious as they are, seem to resonate with the stone, and a small circle of braid has appeared where once there was only plain fabric, just the right size for her new acquisition.

Spoiler: OOC

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Outlander has obtained the Cell-Key-Stone. This is a hearthstone once possessed by her prior incarnation, known to her as Nimbus, and in the interim owned by Mask. This is a special hearthstone with the Keywords: Linked, Manse-Born and Dependent*. Socketed alone, it functions identically to the Memory Stone (Exalted 3E pg. 604). Connecting more Manses will unlock more features of the Cell-Key-Stone, with its most powerful features unlocking when it is paired (socketed with a hearthstone in the same artifact) that is produced from one of the Rime-Bound Cell's paired manses/demenses.

The memory feature works as follows: It perfectly
reflects and stores all of its bearer’s memories within its
facets, so long as it resides within an attuned hearthstone
socket and those memories were made while carrying the
stone. The bearer of the Cell-Key-Stone may draw pristine
recollections from the stone’s depths whenever she
chooses, granting her perfect recall. If the stone ever falls
from attunement for more than a day, all stored memories
within it fade away, and the stone’s former master must
once more rely upon her own fallible recollections.

[Ascension]

"As you wish," Walda says with a nod and a joking bow. He raises both his arms, and on the downstroke they become wings. As an owl, he powers into the sky, his head swiveling as his sensitive eyes scan the snow lying beyond the camp, looking for any sign of disturbance by scrambling goblinoid feet. The little devil must have been moving too fast as he ran from the camp to put much effort into covering his tracks. Unless fresh snowfall has done the work for him, then the trail should be clear... Walda sends a swift prayer to Luna to sharpen his vision, just in case.

Spoiler: OOC and Roll

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Walda's own Perception + Survival pool is 5. Owl form gives him 6 dice for tracking, raised to 7 by the Owl's "Wide-Range Vision" Merit since this is vision-based. I'm spending 2m on the Perception Excellency just for insurance, and I'm rolling 2 stunt dice, for a total of 11 dice.

Roll: (11d10)[1][1][9][5][4][3][7][5][7][10][2](54)

[Sticks]

The trail is muddled so close to camp, but Walda spots a wide, loping track not far off. It seems the Hobgoblin took a wide arc to reach the small copse of trees...do those look healthier than before? Anyway, the trail winds through the trees, there is a small patch where much of the snow is compacted behind a stout willow blooming with fresh greens. It looks like the creature sat here for a while, probably waiting to be sure he was unmarked, then fled to the lake-shore. Upon reaching the ice, he made off, and it takes Walda a moment to perceive where he returned to land, but he manages it. There is a patch of disturbed snow to the south-east, in the direction Siev flew off when his owl retrieved him from the battlefield. From there, the trail is clear. Travolta was more worried about speed than being followed at this point.

[Malozing]

Decks watches and follows Walda until he gets to the other side of the lake. Shifting into his leopard form, Decks dashed away from the group, and as soon as he is well out of earshot of the group, the cat begins to search for any game tracks.

Spoiler: Roll

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(9d10)[6][2][8][2][4][9][3][10][9](53)

[pfm1995]

"Oh good." Adorei mutters, trudging through the snow. "The cat's run off." Ordinarily he'd keep going, but trudging through snow is hard work and leaves little breath for complaining about his companions and their inability to communicate. Instead he focuses on putting one foot in front of the other, not wanting to slow down the more athletic members of their little band breaking ground ahead of him.

[Inspector Valin]

The Outlander is very reverent with the stone. She looks into its depths, trying to call up something from the past... but nothing comes. Disappointing, but... no matter. Instead she focuses as she places the gem within her garments, a particular scene of silks and laughter entering the hearthstone.

"Help you, help the others, help myself. All our goals are compatible, at least for now. This is just... a reminder of that." The Outlander mutters, more to herself than her patron. That done though, she looks back up at the spirit with a mile wide beam. "Thanks again, Mask! Rest assured - I won't stop until everything's back together!"

[Sticks]

The circle sets out following the hobgoblin's trail. The region they are in is mostly flat, likely ironed down by glaciers in ages past. Those experienced in the north may suspect that the glaciers were only partially responsible, irate spirits, god-kings and mad fae probably played some role. The snow is thin in some places, the late-summer growth poking through here and there. Heather and sedge grass provide bursts of color here and there against the white. Travolta's path tends north-east after leaving the lake-shore, somewhat in the direction Walda and the Moonblades journeyed from. At first it seems like he might be retracing his steps back towards the lands where the Moonblades parted with the Vanguard, but soon the disturbed snow and bruised plant-life takes a southward bend, and Walda's worries ease. After a few hours, he spies a strange land-mark rising out of a low hill, and hilly terrain beyond. Travolta's path seems headed straight for it.

Decks finds the going easy. Walda's owl-form flying high above the horizon is easy enough for the cat-lunar to spot and keep his bearings, and the owl's silent passage does little to disturb prey. With little effort, Decks is able to locate several large arctic hares, tough creatures with light brown and white coats. If the lagomorphs took off running, Decks would be hard-pressed to catch them, but his natural stealth is more than enough to bring them down. He also finds edible plants, freshwater springs and even spots a strange feature of the landscape at the same time as Walda.

Outlander and Adorei walk along at an easy pace, keeping the owl in their sights. Being exalts, the going is not difficult. The land seems totally flat, but their feet find ditches, rocks and furrows aplenty that require quick jumps, careful balancing and the occasional stubbed toe. Every now and then, their leopard companion emerges from a snow-bank or from a clump of grass and deposits a still-warm coney or a bunch of roots or stalks of green plants. Gamely taking these trophies, it's clear that whatever the terrain may look like, it's not empty. This is doubly reinforced when they see the owl's shape dip and vanish below the horizon. A short, hurried jog later, and the object of interest comes into sight.

All four chosen arrive at the landmark in-time, first the Lunars, then the Solar and Terrestrial Exalt. Atop a low hill is a single short tree, a birch. Its white bark and full yellow-green leaves are startlingly beautiful, and would be pleasant to look at if it weren't for the tree's burden. Hanging by a rope secured in the branches, swinging against the trunk is a body wrapped in furs. Flies buzz around it, putrid liquids stain the ground below it. A broken-bladed hand-axe lies on the ground, and carved into the bark of the tree are words written in Skytonge "Jorge, Nia, Oktar, I hope it's worth it. I leave you everything you wanted here. I hope you choke on it."

[Malozing]

Decks pads over to the hanging body, his pink nose wrinkling at the sickly scent. His amber eyes read the carved message and study the ax, and the leopard begins to circle the corpse and the tree. Ooo, fun. What could a spiteful man leave behind?

Spoiler: OOC

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Decks is going to look for the possible things the person left behind.

Perception 4 + Investigation 2 + Stunt 2 + Investigation "Nosy Cat" 1 = 9 dice
(9d10)[1][2][4][7][3][5][2][9][6](39)

[Inspector Valin]

"Poor man. Whatever happened, no one deserves to have their body just... thrown away like that."

Outlander's attention is on the corpse. It doesn't take the nimble Exalt long to get it down from the branches. She takes a second to bow her head over the fallen man, muttering. "Voharun, show kindness for this soul, whose kin gave him none." While Decks gives both corpse and scene a closer examination, the strange warrior has removed a small shovel from her pack and has begun to dig - she lacks experience at the task, but clearly would afford the fallen as much of a grave as she can manage.

[pfm1995]

"Something makes me think," Adorei says, looking up at the hanged man, "that this was not so much thrown away as it was spent. I'd suggest keeping hands close to weapons." As the others go to inspect the tree and take down the body, though, Adorei doesn't take his own advice. Instead he looks closely at man and writing, never touching either, with his mirror in hand to catch and stray ghosts that may be wandering about. If this was common, if this was an ablation to some god rejecting the rule of Heaven, then perhaps their ghosts would still be lurking. And if not, maybe he could still get some sense of why they'd felt the need to waste the rope.

Spoiler: Actions

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I suppose an Occult roll works here? Int 5 + Occult 5 + Specialty (Ghosts) 1, no charms. Reminder that Ephodeon gives Adorei perma-Spirit Detecting Mirror Technique.

Spoiler: Roll

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(11d10)[7][3][1][7][4][5][10][2][1][4][3](47)

[Ascension]

Walda alights on the ground beside the tree, taking human form.

"I wonder," he says, as the others busy themselves about their various tasks, "if his message was received."

He traces the Skytongue runes in the air with a lazy finger.

"'I leave you everything you wanted here'... a last testament? Written to a very particular trio..."

His brow furrows, and he glances over to Outlander.

"We might should have left it, if that was his wish... not half so spiteful with him in the ground. ...but then if they've already seen it, and left him..."

[Sticks]

Outlander quickly encounters hard soil, half-frozen and shot through with tough tundra grass. It would take some time to make a proper grave for the sad corpse, but it's doable. Adorei's mirror-aided glance sees nothing unexpected. No fur-wrapped specters looming in the background, no malevolent spirits rising from the earth or clambering in the branches. The rope is sturdy stuff, woven grass and what might be mammoth hair, but much of the noose is stained with rot and partially decayed itself. The next proper cold-snap might have weakened it enough to break, but it likely would have lasted the rest of the summer, keeping its decaying burden aloft.

Decks' search is impaired by a number of distractions. The conversation from the others, Outlander's digging, the scurrying of voles on the other side of the hill, and what's worse is the fact that Decks is pretty sure he's not looking for anything living or dead. Objects are harder to track than animals any day, and this object has been still a while. Even so, Decks does eventually discover a small sturdy box at the foot of the tree, mostly covered by a pile of rocks. It's been undisturbed for some time, but clearly was buried here deliberately so it could be accessed without much effort. The box itself is square and unadorned, made of a smooth finished hardwood with brass fittings on each corner and a brass hook-clasp on the front.

[Malozing]

Decks lets out a happy trill as he uses his paws to kick the rocks away. Once the box is fully exposed, the Lunar shifts into his human form. "Alright! What's in this?"

Decks thumbs the brass latch and grins over his shoulder to the rest Circle. "Anyone wanna throw out some guesses before I open it?"

[Ascension]

"Ah, look. 'Everything you wanted' wasn't just his death," Walda says, perhaps more cheerfully than is warranted, given the situation. He leans over the box, peering down at it. "That does look more likely to be something a person would choke on."

He grins.

"Anyone want to wager on how literal he was? Could be poison gas. Or something inconvenient to eat..."

[pfm1995]

"Ah, is this what he stole then? Or, at least, what caused him to annoy his assailants so much." Adorei keeps a respectful distance, both from the man and the box. "I somewhat doubt he was being literal, but there's no point in speculation when the truth is in front of us."

[Malozing]

"If it was gas, wouldn't it be something like glass and not a wooden box?" Decks snorts and turns back to the box. "Alright! Let's see..."

[Sticks]

Decks clawed fingers work the clasp and opens the box. Inside the dark wood and separated by inlaid dividers rest a set of three tiny glass vials containing a thin liquid. Also apparent is the sizable brass weight that has just been released from the interior of the box's lid that hurtles towards the center vial! A small 'crunch!' is heard as the weight crushes the vial against the smooth paneled wood. Immediately, white vapor leaks out, expanding into a greater volume than could be contained by such a tiny vial, enveloping Decks, Walda and Adorei.

What do these three chosen do to react? What does their companion busily digging a grave do to react?

[Ascension]

It is extremely annoying to have to suppress your impulse to shout "I called it!" because what you called is being enveloped in presumably-choking gas. But Walda fights the urge, screwing his mouth and eyes shut and trying to briskly walk out of the expanding cloud. He's fairly certain he isn't walking towards the tree...

Unlike many Lunars, endurance is hardly his forte, but since he was half-expecting this result, he hopes he'll be clear of the cloud before questions like "How long can I hold my breath?" or "How well can I weather toxins?" become relevant.

[Malozing]

Growling and gritting his teeth, Decks lobs the chest at Walda. "You jinxed us!" Cats are never at fault for their actions, so if curiosity's gonna kill him, Decks is going to blame someone else.

Spoiler: OOC

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Yeeting that stuff away! Dexterity 5 + Thrown 0 + Stunt 2= 7 Dice
(7d10)[8][7][4][2][10][5][10](46)

[pfm1995]

Already watching for things to go wrong, by the time Decks' eyes have finished widening Adorei is already lunging backwards. That's the lesser of the two things he's doing though. Even as he's moving backwards he's throwing his hands forwards, channeling raw unsculpted essence into the air. It's... not much - Adorei'd never been especially good at elemental manipulation and his studies hadn't focused on it beyond the very basics - but it's enough to get a breeze blowing away from him and (coincidentally) away from the others too.

Spoiler: Actions

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Moving away, spending 1m on the DB anima effect for minor elemental manipulation, and trying to dodge out of the way.

Dex Dodge - (9d10)[4][7][10][10][10][8][5][8][1](63)

[Sticks]

The box goes sailing over Walda's head, landing softly in the snow and moss. A sudden breeze, perhaps tempted into action by Adorei, disturbs the mist and sends it scattering, though shreds of it cling to Decks and Walda. The mist is cold, but not the honest clear-sky cold so normal in the far north, nor the cold of a thick blanket of snow. This cold is uncanny, disconcerting, wrong. As the late-summer leaves shudder in the breeze and the severed rope sways, the two Lunars can't help but feel marked somehow. Aside from that, nothing seems to have happened.

It is mid-afternoon, the sun has never left the horizon, and now it is warm enough that a few insects brave the chill to make inquisitive, lazy arcs over the corpse. Outlander's work has been rewarded as deeper soil proves less frozen, and soon a shallow grave is dug. Loose stones make for a cairn, enough to deter larger scavengers.

The hobgoblin's trail is obvious, he seems to have lingered for a moment under the tree, tried half-heartedly to climb up to the body, then hurried on into the hills.