The Convergence of Sky: An Exalted campaign.

[Ascension]

"I can honor my agreements," Walda promises. He shows a hint of teeth. "I am an honest thief, after all. Not a civilized one."

[Sticks]

Zheng has kept quiet through the whole discussion, but she nods in agreement with her commander. "I'll see about securing a detail to escort the Islanders. If we can carve out a good life here by cooperating with these people, I'm all for it. That said, we need to secure food for everyone. That Yeddim isn't going to last the numbers we have here more than a week or two, even if we smoke or salt all of it. Does your uhh...." she gestures up at the swirling dome of air. "Does that being have any plans for keeping us fed and sheltered until we can start trading lumber and...silk?"

[pfm1995]

Adorei raised an eyebrow, looking at Zheng. "The Legions left their mark on you, in your stance and the way you tie your belt. Adorei said. If you're trying to distract from old loyalties by being needlessly dismissive, you may as well end that particular farce - so long as I am here, no one will forget. Embrace it, instead, and use it as a lesson for your men. Your past experiences have led you to underestimate how quickly this business venture will be underway - your band is not an army, and will be significantly easier to arrange supplies for. It's not as if you need blacksmiths, after all. It will take my train approximately two weeks to reach the coast, which, weather permitting, will similarly be enough time for ships to have arrived with the necessary supplies - this season, food should not be hard to acquire. Allowing for slippage, you have four to five weeks to plan for. I'd suggest beginning the ration now, if you can stop your men from gorging themselves."

As he talked, Adorei's mind was already working through the details. He'd need to rely on his uncle's network to get supplies moving - what family attendants he'd left in Iceholm should be up to the task - and an emergency infusion could be on its way by sundown tomorrow if a ship was available to be chartered. He'd need to send back more men of his own with appropriate authority to arrange a steadier supply chain, and it would be beneficial in the long-term to establish a land route. One which wouldn't be frozen solid four months of the year and storm-tossed another two. He'd need a map.

"Unless any of you have anything else, I have preparations to be making." He said, turning back to the group.

[Ascension]

"You tend to your 'logistics,'" Walda says, shooing Adorei away with his hand. He almost keeps the air quotes out of his voice on 'logistics.' He is trying to play nice! "We'll deal with the food situation."

The 'we' he has in mind doesn't include Zheng or the Moonblades, however. He greatly respects her expertise and their abilities, but he recognizes that the specific circumstances pose a greater challenge than their usual foraging.

"I'll check with Mask," he assures her as Adorei turns away, "but if their power can't yet aid us, Decks and I will go hunting. We'll make this work."

[pfm1995]

Stepping back into the brazier-fed warmth of his tent - the proper one, rather than its smaller cousin he'd elected to carry - Adorei let out a long sigh of pent-up frustration. He could just leave the animals to starve, couldn't he? It'd certainly be easier than what he was about to do. Organize an entire supply chain across the breadth of the north; devise some way to feed over two hundred bandits, many of whom probably couldn't even eat most traveling food; and find some way to make a profit out of the whole endeavor. Without profit, after all, there would be no point - his elders would not look kindly on waste. Shaking loose the dark thoughts, and the chorus of insect legs they brought with them, he stepped to a waiting basin and began to wash himself. He would need to be presentable for his next meeting.

It was only after he was cleaned of the dirt and sweat of the road, dressed in fresh clothes and with his hair in shape that he finally brought out his traveling mirror. He'd prefer something larger for a meeting like this, but needs must. He flipped it open, buffing it with his sleeve absentmindedly before setting it in a wire-wrought holder and bowing fully to the floor.

[Sticks]

Adorei:

A face swims to the surface of the mirror, wrinkled, portly, bearded and dignified, it is Adorei's uncle Aibo. A brief look of suprise passes over his ghostly face before it is replaced by a fond smile as he strokes his chin. "You look troubled Adorei. Cleaned and pressed? I appreciate the respectful gesture, but I would rather you speak plainly. Let us dispense with formalities, and speak frankly. How can I help?"

[Ascension]

"You're good for now, right?"

Walda briefly... very briefly... checks in with Zheng. He's turning away before she has a chance to answer. It isn't meant to be dismissive... it's more a mix of his faith in her and his lack of faith in his own ability to manage minutiae... but it could be read as such. However she responds, he doesn't notice, since he's already turned away, after all.

"Decks! Sunshine!" he calls out as he turns back towards his other Exalted companions, "I'm going to go check in with our esteemed patron."

He jerks a thumb in the direction of Mask's storm-shelled prison, as if his referent wasn't already completely obvious.

"Either of you want to come?"

[Malozing]

Instead of answering, Decks stretches and walks into the wind-barrier.

On the other side, the Lunar transforms and gives Mask a lopsided grin. "I did most of the work at the manse don't let the others tell you otherwise! Oh, and the sounds outside were just Walda and Adorei's people squabbling over food."

[Inspector Valin]

The Outlander has been kneeling in silence for a while. She doesn't open her eyes even at Walda's remark, but slowly rises to her feet and nods. "I'll follow."

[pfm1995]

Adorei effortlessly smooths out what would have been a frown at his uncle's informality, reminding himself that he was imposing on his elder's time and that it would be wise to get to the point. So, he stood and began talking.

"An auspicious opportunity for the family has been found in this frozen wasteland." He began. "A demesne permeated with wood essence, surrounded by what I believe the locals call an "emerald" - an area of fertile ground, in this case filled with good hardwood. It's former protector, what appeared to be a maddened, chimerical anathema, has been driven off. While I do not believe it currently possible for the family to claim the demesne - in the long term, certainly, but not at the moment - I have arranged a deal with the resident bandits to provide food in return for logging rights and the protection of our shipments. As passions rise in this uncertain age, the wood for this would doubtlessly fetch a premium on the Haslanti markets." Where it would almost certainly be used to build airships with which to further challenge the Realm's hegemony. A shame. "What I would ask of you, honored ancestor, is the use of your network to convey the particulars of this deal to my servants in Iceholm that they may begin the shipments of the necessary supplies and food - these bandits are mere weeks away from starvation and will grow... unpredictable... if left for their own devices for too long." And there was nothing worse for business than unpredictability. "Meanwhile, I would send my remaining retainers south to our per-arranged meeting point. They have served their purpose on this venture."

He bowed his head and awaited his uncle's opinion on his proposal.

[Sticks]

The Tent:

Uncle Aibo's reflection frowns. "Nephew, I worry about your judgement in this venture. A sacred grove in the middle of the tundra is a valuable thing to be sure, and an unguarded one is even more valuable. But do you not worry that disturbing a pristine demense might be a dangerous move? Claiming it for our family is certainly a meaningful gain, but it might be put to better use. Tell me of these 'bandits'. What makes them so unpredictable for a chosen such as you?"

The Cell:

The wall of wind at the crater's edge blinds the Exalts as they step through, but on the other side a queer sight meets their eyes. Small pockets of color have sprung up, soft greens, blues, reds and purples dot the slope below them, the nearest examples proving to be growths of flowers and lichens poking through the snow. Here and there too, small green shoots with crumpled leaves rise nearly a foot above the snow, resembling the willows and boxwoods of the nearby scrub-forest. The trail downwards is quickly found, and in moments they stand before the pillar of ice containing the image of a coiled serpent, its head and much of its body covered in beautifully scrimshawed ivory or soapstone. On either side of its body jut two large folded wings, also encased in the white carved substance, while the lower region of its body glimmer and shift with all the colors and patterns of the aurora upon its scales.

"Twice chosen! Nimbus our friend! Fearsome Prowler! Moon-clawed Prince! How delighted we are to see you again! Is it not beautiful? Life returns to our cell, fairly thrums through our being! We feel the nurturing dew of the Frozen Glade melt through the frost and we wish to share it! We knew you were the right ones for the task, yes we did, you and the Prideful Shadow-Dancer. Why with another demense added to our panoply, we should be strong enough to protect ourselves again, yes! Devote some of this powerful wind essence to other tasks beyond the dome! Ah, but we ramble. Come, tell us of your journey. You say you are responsible for our new life-granting powers, Fearsome one? Tell us!"

[pfm1995]

Adorei tries not to let his annoyance at the questioning show. If there was anyone with the wisdom and experience to question the decisions he had made, it was his uncle. That did not make having them dissected any more enjoyable. He cleared his throat before answering. That they are lead by other chosen, who are anathema besides. Chosen with no love of the Realm, a sentimental streak, and a supply shortage driving them to desperation. Frankly, it is a minor miracle that the North has not already passed sentence on them. Bargaining for what bounty the House can around the outskirts of this demesne in return for saving their lives I believe to truly be our best option at this time. It will engender some amount of trust, at least, and perhaps after a few months to a year of improving my own position with these outlaws we can erect a proper manse and channel its essence to our own ends. Though, I would caution that there are remnants of first-age artifice in the are which would make that... dangerous. Simple physical bounty is our most profitable short-term option, if only to defray the growing costs of this expedition. Food enough to supply these bandits for any length of time is beyond my current means, doubly so without a known return on the investment."

[Ascension]

"Honored Mask, Blessed Thief of Power, it is good to see you well," Walda greets the entity. "We all have tales to tell of the journey we have taken, and of the foes we slew, and they are tales worth telling, but I fear we haven't come only to make report. I... I would ask a boon of you, if you are able. In recompense for our service."

He gestures beyond the wind dome.

"While my Moonblades stood vigil over your prison, I am sorry to report that they found little to hunt and forage nearby. My people hunger, and that hunger has already led to unnecessary strife with the Dragon's followers."

He nods to the plant life blossoming within the Mask's prison.

"You say you've been granted 'life-giving powers'... Could you provide bounty enough to supplement our food supplies? Just for a little while, while we work to make more permanent arrangements."

Even though Mask's prison is little removed from the wintry chill of the snowy scene beyond, the subtle sheen on Walda's brow is sweat. Begging does not come naturally or comfortably to him.

[Malozing]

Decks grins up at the winged serpent.

“Well, the first thing we noticed was all of the trees were covered in threads of spider silk which was spook at first. I went scouting ahead while the others poked around with some hole in the ground!”

The leopard Lunar chatters on to the serpent, happily highlighting events that painted him in a good light. Decks brushes off anyone’s corrections with enthusiastic elaborations.

[Inspector Valin]

The Outlander remains silent for the moment, though any watching her specifically catch a smile at Decks' more... exhilarating interpretation of events. She hasn't the heart to challenge him however, only speaking up when the subject of his recounting turns to the matter of the frozen glade. And the creature they'd encountered there.

"It's ability to mimic me was... unsettling. I'd heard stories of shape-stealing monsters before, stalking the night with bestial servants. They don't tend to end well for those they target." The strange Exalt shudders at the memory, before sharing a smile with Walda and Decks. "Strange to encounter a less friendly one after having passed the trip with the two of you."

[Sticks]

Adorei's Tent:

Aibo's reflection looks stern, his eyes wide and hard. On the silvered surface of the mirror, it looms like a full moon, framed with a mane of stars.

"Well nephew, it seems you have this all figured out. However, it would be unwise to bring in outsiders to this adventure of yours until we are better established. The presence of Anathema alone could invite unwelcome attention. You will have to procure craftsmen and supplies on your own, and as long as you must associate with the chosen of the Sun and Moon, you cannot allow your connection to our family to be known. I will offer what advice I can, but that is all at this time." Uncle Aibo's expression softens "I am sorry to burden you so, Adorei, but these are the challenges a young Exalt must face in this new age. I understand your frustration, but I hope the magnitude of your task animates your spirit, as it does mine."

Spoiler: OOC & Rolls

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Aibo is attempting a social action to convince Adorei to accept the current conditions and not question Aibo's decision, leveraging Adorei's intimacy towards Aibo.

Spoiler: Roll

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(15d10)[4][6][3][8][3][5][6][8][2][9][7][2][5][1][2](71)

Spoiler: Mechanics

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"Aibo" is rolling Manipulation+Presence with a full excellency.

The Cell:

Mask writhes with excitement at the tale. "Oh so many adventures already! We hope our tasks continue to prove so invigorating! We see the bonds already forming, yes indeed. We hope that the prideful dragon is also acclimatized to this august circle. Perhaps other such challenges will strengthen these bonds further? Hrmm..."

The winged serpent coils upon itself, carved eyes regarding the gathered Exalts. "Yes, Moon-clawed prince, we could indeed sustain your followers. Our power waxes as the demense feeds us, and we no-longer fear starvation. However..." The wings beat and Mask's head rises, drawing level with Walda's eyes. "We are still limited. The wood essence sustains us and the air protects us, we could use both for sustenance and in doing so spread the essence to our friend's followers, but a threat remains."

Mask's image fades and where it was hovers the translucent image of a soapstone, identical to the ones Walda and Outlander hold, and simmilar to Decks' though lacking the faint green glow within. "When we first sent out the call for chosen, five did we contact, for the most auspicious number was ideal for our purposes. The fifth of the twice-chosen should have converged at the same hour as you four did, but they have not. We wondered how this could be, for the twice-chosen had been selected, but gained our answer during your melee." A white-gloved hand reaches out and takes the soapstone, clenching it tightly before fading away. Mask's form, swaying in agitation comes into view. "The fifth has been taken by an ancient enemy from beyond the bounds of creation. In his hands our guiding stone is not a tool of cooperation, but of designs most foul. We fear we must direct you in your next task to retrieve the stone and its chosen, if possible, from the lair of the faye prince."

[Ascension]

Any bruises Walda's ego might have taken from Decks' self-serving account of their adventure are effaced by his relief at learning that Mask can solve the Moonblades' immediate problems. He grins stupidly (if charmingly) at the news.

The caveat that he and the others now have to go hunt down that irritating Fae prince is no downside at all. Walda has a score to settle with that prick.

"If your fifth chosen is Siev's captive, we can only hope that they haven't been driven mad by the incessant gloating of his heralds," he jokes.

[Malozing]

Decks' tail flicks back and forth in a slow and lazy rhythm after he finishes his storytelling. He grins at Mask, the Outlander, and Walda when the serpent asked them to hunt the Fae.

"I was planning on hunting him down anyway."

[Inspector Valin]

"It would be fun to punch that preening prince. And even I know you don't leave prisoners to the raksha if you can help it."

The Outlander smiles. This is starting to buoy her mood. Mask's revelations provide a more reliable path for stability between the Moonblades and Islanders than her plan. And a fight against that interloper had brought the group together during their first meeting. Perhaps it'll help strengthen it now. A fire to strengthen the iron of companionship.

[pfm1995]

Adorei felt himself stumble slightly, as all the plans he'd been laying capsized all at once. His mind raced ahead, trying to make some good out of this new situation, but it was like his brain had slipped a gear. He looked up at his ancestor with pleading eyes. "Understand, uncle, that without a connection to the Realm there is no skill, no resources I can offer that these bandits do not either already have or believe that they can take. They already speak freely of killing me and my men just for the meat."

Trying to compose himself, he fought to smooth out his face and show some semblance of calm. "If that is your final decision, I will of course accept it. I would ask that you still carry a message, though for a single ship to be sent early. The living among my retainers have proven themselves more liability than resource here in the wastes, and I would send them back both for their own safety and so that they will not continue to be used against me." At least then he could make proper progress on the contingencies he'd need to survive - and survival would now be the goal. Any chance that this venture would result in profit was being drained by the sentence.

[Sticks]

Adorei's Tent: Aibo's expression softens yet further. At this moment, the reflection of a deceased scion of house Nellens holds more compassion than any living face familiar to Adorei's youth in the Realm. "I understand, Adorei. I will do as you ask and send for a ship. In the meantime, try and see this as an oppertunity, rather than a hindrence. In uncertain times, we cannot always rely on the resources of the Isle. We must learn to accept our circumstances, and the company we find ourselves in and make the best of it."

The old man's shade stretches as though stiff and looks contemplative. "Well, I have much to do. Tell me what port you wish to send your people to, and I will arrange transport for them. After that, I ask that you not contact me again for a few moon-rises. Things are delicate, and I imagine you'll have enough to keep yourself busy besides."

The Cell:

"Excellent. Bring the fourth member here, the Dragon, and we will tell you all we know."

[pfm1995]

The explicit intent of building these client networks is so that you can rely on them in hard times. Else, why go to the trouble? Adorei fumes internally as his uncle talks. Still, he bows his head. "The pre-arranged pick-up point will suit, they will simply be embarking earlier than expected."

That done and with his uncle's dismissal, he moves to close the pocket mirror. Still, as he does so, he can't help but notice something: Uncle is by far the farthest down the path of all of them, the least prone to acting as if he was still alive. Odd, that he'd be stretching.

[Ascension]

"Decks, would you care to retrieve the Dragon?" Walda asks his fellow Lunar.

Even bearing good news, Walda himself would not be welcome in Adorei's camp, and the scene could get unpleasant. Outlander could fetch him easily enough, but it wouldn't be entertaining. Decks, though... Decks has a particular talent for dealing with the Islander. There'll likely be fireworks, but not the kind that'll damage anything. Just the kind that are fun to watch.

[Malozing]

Decks gives Walda a wide smile as the leopard Lunar shifts. "I'll be happy to," Decks says in an overly cheerful voice.

He walks towards the Islanders' camp, mimicking Adorei's stride and mannerisms. Oh, Decks knows his attire would alert the Dragon's people, but the look on their faces, on Adorei's face, will be worth it. One of Adorei's cousins, Bolro or Bosra, moves to stand in front of Decks, arms crossed.

"Aw, no need to be grumpy. I'm just here to fetch Adorei, and he already knows I have his form." Decks gives the Nellens a wide feral grin.

[pfm1995]

The sound of a commotion outside draws Adorei out of his reverie, plans falling away as he comes back to the present. "Upon disaster depends good fortune..." he murmured, standing up from where he'd been sitting cross-legged, before walking to the flap of his tent and peering outside. "...and the coming good fortune would need be great to have this thick a foundation." he finished as he saw who his men were gathering around. He took a moment to smooth his appearance before stepping outside, the wind from the north stirring the edges of his hair. "Yes, I do indeed already know, and this does not concern me. The heretical gifts the Anathema are granted are matched only by the sheer carelessness with which they waste them - I trust every man and woman here to see through such a slovenly disguise, and doubly so now that there is no longer a shock to it. Undoubtedly you have some reason for darkening our fires," he said, finally addressing Decks, "but whatever it is will have to wait. I have planning to do."

And with that he turned away from Decks. It would do the moon-chosen good to learn some patience - or he'd do something foolish, and give Adorei yet another cause for complaint. Either was fine. He gestured with two fingers to Bosro, then to two others of his retinue, and when they were close he huddled with them to give out orders. "Gather the men and begin packing. It is the considered wisdom of our elders that, if reward is to be won from this, it will not be through mortal artifice. The retainers are to return by the way we came - a ship will be waiting. At least there you will not be made into hostages for the Anathema's scheams."

[Sticks]

Bosro scowls at the news, but most of the other faces look relieved. The mortal Nellens speaks up "The others can go, but I'm staying, cousin. You may be the senior scion of House Nellens on this mission, but I'm here of my own volition. It seems as though you're going to be running off with these barbarians a lot and..." He looks back at Decks, in the form of Adorei, and grimaces, speaking loudly enough for the Lunar to hear "...and even if I die, my death will be your signal to leave here." He looks back towards Adorei and grips his wrist firmly, a look of grim humor on his face as he whispers. "And besides, I may be more useful among our ancestors than I am now, eh?"

However Adorei takes this assertion from his brash cousin, the retainers immediately disperse and begin breaking camp. A flurry of activity engulfs the small group on the ridge as packs are bundled, weapons counted, rations stowed and the Yeddim harnessed. It is early in the day, and many hope to reach the nearest port sooner than later. They're all loyal retainers of House Nellens, sworn to secrecy regarding this mission and paid well enough to respect that oath, even if they didn't fear hired blades in the night should they loose their tongues...but even so, they'd prefer to not spend a single solitary moment longer in this cold, distant and dangerous land than they'd have to.

[Malozing]

Decks lazily walks closer to Adoeri's little meeting, only pausing when Bosro when the man looks back at him.

...but I'm here of my own volition. It seems as though you're going to be running off with these barbarians a lot and... And even if I die, my death will be your signal to leave here.

"Ooh, you talk back! I like that." Decks grins at the mortal Nellens and inhale deeply through his nose. "Bosro, was it? Well, you don't have to worry about little ol' me." The tip of the Lunar's tail flicks side to side slowly just below the hem of his cloak.

[pfm1995]

Adorei let the corners of his mouth pull down into the faintest frown. "Careful, cousin. These animals have long ears. And yes, of course he talks back. I value all of their council; if they didn't feel comfortable speaking their minds, particularly when they think I'm wrong, then there would be no point to them." He turned back to Bosro. "You may join our honored dead more quickly than you think - the barbarians have already threatened to kill you if they don't get their way, and if they choose to act all I will be able to do is make that... expensive. But if staying is your wish, I will not stop you. Finish getting the men ready, I will handle these interruptions."

With wheels set in motion, he finally turns to his fellow Exalted. "Now, then. What did you want Decks?"

[Malozing]

"It's not about what I want." Decks watches as Bosro leaves. "Mask wants us to hunt down that Fae prick, and they'll give us more details once you grace us with your presence."

With the message passed along, Decks shifts into his leopard form and dashes through the camp back to the gale-wall.

[pfm1995]

"Oh good." Adorei deadpans, watching the lynx dash away, "hunting. Always one of my favorite pastimes." He nods to Bosro. "There are at least some among them I'd prefer not to alienate quite yet by making them wait. See that things are finished here; I should be back shortly."

With that, he sets out across the snow himself.