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  1. - Top - End - #121
    Ettin in the Playground
     
    HalflingWizardGirl

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    Default Re: Exalted 3e - Welcome to Thorns (IC)

    Depths Team
    Rivers
    The shadow jets away from the Islebreaker, those two cobalt eyes boring into the intruder as they withdraw. Rivers wastes no time returning to their original level and starting to bolt back across the storage room. Ominously, there's no sign of the red robed necrotechnicians. Not so much as an errant footfall greets the shadow's return. The whole area seems deserted now, the lights lingering after their masters' departure like some final marker of their lives.

    Marrow
    It works. The young Dragon focuses with all he has on the old blood, cloaking his essence with that of those who came before him. It falls down into the spiral, a familiar cloak that the ward could not help but be fooled by. Once again, the essence starts to weave together in the lower section of the device - a set of dark red threads being bound together. And as the process completes, and the stand accepts him as loyal, the disguise fades away, leaving a light elm plaque that holds a mote of essence within. Picking it up, Marrow can feel a small fragment of life stored forever within the strange wafer. It's light in his hand, almost impossibly so, and the front bares a strangely familiar set of glyphs - one of the few phrases of Old Realm he knows. His own name.

    The soulsteel door is now glowing faintly. All Marrow needs to do is step towards it, his newly forged identification in hand. That alone is enough to make the vault door pull back into the wall, slowly bringing the light of the hallway into the treasure chamber.

    Whisper
    "Wha?"

    Lacroix realizes Whisper's objective too late. The ghost's face contorts as he wrestles with the sword, trying desperately to retain his hold. But he wasn't quick enough for this, and Whisper's bluff worked well. After a few desperate seconds the blade is wrenched away from the malevolent commander, tip of the blade clanging against the ring of the cauldron. Lacroix just looks down at his opponent, barely able to comprehend this.

    Spoiler: OOC
    Show
    The daiklave goes to Whisper. It's heavy but this form has the strength to use it unattuned, at least form this. Lacroix is out of the fight! Time to finish this. You're free to either still have the blade or drop it, whichever makes for the cooler stunt.

    Also since we were on combat time, you get combat mote regen. Take 15m.

    Soul Drain (10d10)[2][2][3][7][1][6][2][4][7][1](35)

  2. - Top - End - #122
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    The_Snark's Avatar

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    Default Re: Exalted 3e - Welcome to Thorns (IC)

    Sword successfully snatched, Whisper turns her attention to the real prize: the last chain. The souls captured in the cage are writhing and shrieking in agony as the rings spin around them... but in a way that's reassuring, now, because it means they still exist enough to feel pain. When the screams give way to silence, she'll know she's failed.

    Hopefully, it won't come to that. She moves up closer to the chain. Her feint may have won her Lacroix's sword, but it cost her momentum, and while she could back up for another charge she senses that the ghosts she's trying to save don't have long left - not to mention that Lacroix might figure out some other mischief, even without his sword. No, best to do this as quickly as possible. The crocodilian Lunar opens her mouth briefly, twisting sideways and snapping shut on the chain before the sword can do more than begin to slide out of her grasp. There: she has a grip on both of them now. The chain is pulled taut, forcing her to remain at an odd angle if she wants to keep at it.

    Then she rolls, again employing that wrenching motion - this time with all two thousand pounds of her stolen body's weight behind it.

    Spoiler
    Show
    Feat of strength, take 2! Spending WP for a bonus success again, because I do not trust the dice:
    (10d10)[9][5][2][9][8][1][8][9][3][3](57)
    Avatar by GryffonDurime. Thanks!

  3. - Top - End - #123
    Ettin in the Playground
     
    HalflingWizardGirl

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    Default Re: Exalted 3e - Welcome to Thorns (IC)

    Heights Team
    Nord
    Intent on ensuring the evacuation proceeds smoothly, Nord proceeds downstairs swiftly. The flight of spiral stairs is long - it's obvious that once this tower had many floors beneath the sea level, but many of them have been boarded up. Finally he reaches the final level of the staircase, and a set of black jade doors. With a breath, Nord takes the handles, pulls them back and steps forward.

    Only for a shining silver knife to come flying at his head!

    On pure instinct, Nord rolls forward, the sudden blast of wind catching the Lookshyan by surprise. The silence of seconds ago has been replaced by the mighty roar of a great airship, a proper ol' Glorious Dragonfly class - wrought of steel and with engines that could propel it across the sky like lightning. The thing is taxiing right past the tower he currently stands on, making ready to jet away from this place. Glancing around, Nord can make out a crowd gathered in a plaza below him, and at his eye level are the upper reaches of a cityscape. It's as though he'd walked through half the world to emerge just beneath the sky atop some mighty tower. There's spires, obelisks, a ziggurat - most of which are wrought from familiar black and blue jade. And the skyships! There's far more of them here, small classes Nord has never seen before, zipping and gliding across the skyline.

    Indeed there's something familiar about the city set before him as a whole, something he can't quite put his finger on. The ring wall surrounding the district right below him makes Nord think of Lookshy of course, a few buildings look similar and he even fancies he can make out something like Lookshy Manse off in the distance. But it's clearly not his home - there's so much here he's never seen before, and so many familiar sights that aren't present. Where's the District of Schools? Artisans? The old Lighthouse? Almost everything is wrong. Even the sounds are off - the distant murmuring of people talking sounds distorted and garbled. It's like a strange reflection, or...

    "Look out!" Someone calls from below. Before the errant Karal can ponder his whereabouts much more, a pale fist marked with black claw-like tattoos sails towards his jaw.

    Nord sidesteps nimbly, raising his blade just as his assailant pulls a second knife. The Lookshyan gets a better look at him now, beneath the light of the evening sun. Pallid, with wild white hair and wearing a shabby thin coat, vest and trousers. Looks more like a beggar or a madman than a fighter. But he's swift with his knife in close quarters too, lunging forward fast enough to put Nord on the defensive. "You're good at this, tiger." The Madman's tone sounds almost lascivious. He waves a hand at the gathered crowd below them. "But you're only so good. You keep holding back. You're too worried about what they think of you to really go all out. Imagine what'd happen if you got someone killed because you were too scared to show the people what you really are."

    In an instant he jumps backwards, falling from the tower... only to rise again, standing upon a whirring platform of silver. The Madman flashes his adversary a wink and a grin, as a glittering silver crescent flickers to life upon his brow. "Let me know when you get over your 'I'm not a Dragon' complex! I'll be waiting!" And with those words, the strange Lunar flies towards the skyship - coat, hair and maniacal laugh trailing behind him in the wind.

    Nord blinks, and the breeze on his face is gone before his eyes clear. There's no city, no skyship, no Lunar. Just a relief - a carving depicting gathered Exalted legends of yesteryear. It's hard to resist a second glance - most of the assembled host are Dragon Blooded in shining jade armor, but in the midst of the group, proud and equal... are two figures that seem hauntingly familiar to the errant Lookshyan. A man in white robes with a small portable essence cannon, and a woman in a light green tunic who bears a flute and a bird upon their shoulder. You could be mistaken for thinking of them as Dragon Blooded, but each bare a golden symbol upon their brow. These are Anathema, clearly: Blasphemous and Unclean by their marks.

    And yet here, they stand with the Dragon Blooded. As part of the group. Equals. Friends.

    Depths Team
    Whisper
    The blow is perfect. A soldier could not have delivered a cleaner cut upon the chain. In an instant, the final support snaps and the great cauldron begins to roll downwards, splinteing scaffolding before finally twisting its angle, turning to its right and barrelling straight towards the soul cage.

    Looking ahead, Whisper could be forgiven a moment's nervousness. The orb's metal rings begin to spin faster in those final seconds, as though whatever malign intelligence was controlling the device had sensed the danger, and was trying desperately to drain whatever it could from the captive spirits while it still had the opportunity. The chorus of voices reach one final, all consuming scream at the most intense moment of pain, so close to the line of non existence.

    But yet, thank all the great Monarchs of Stygia, Lost Whisper is just in time.

    The cauldron hits the rings with an almighty clang, sending the bleak device hurtling across the room, unhooked from its spectral moorings. That impact loosened its connective joints - hitting the wall shredded them to pieces. With a final clattering sound, both rings fall separately upon the far side of the garden as the unfortunate ghosts drift downwards to the ground. Whisper can tell at a glance most of them are in poor shape - the Cage's siphon pulled a lot of vital force from them. But they survived. They all survived. Even with Lacroix fighting her from first to last, she saved the prisoners.

    The commander stares down imperiously at the scene, unmoved by how close his fellow spirits came to Oblivion, before turning his gaze to his crocodile shaped adversary. He places a hand to the purple gem, the one on his cloak clasp. He sighs at that, seeming almost relieved. He actually smiles at Whisper, who notices that the marks and blemishes from the first fight have begun to fade from the horrible spectre's corpus. "Impressive. I'll admit that. But I got most of what I needed from them. I'd call this a tie, personally."

    The Hearthstone he wears begins to gleam, as Lacroix vanishes, tipping a final salute to Whisper. "I'll see you shortly, moon child. Here's hoping you die with honor."

    Spoiler
    Show
    Wanted to leave on that. The ghosts are a bit too shocked to start a conversation with Whisper right off the bat, but if she doesn't approach them, one will come to her.


    Marrow
    If anything, it might be better than Marrow had envisioned. The vault is packed from floor to ceiling with items - barely leaving enough space to walk. There's nothing bloodstained or seemingly malevolent in the room, no Soulbreaker Orb or Hungry Devil Blade. Most of the shelves seem to be dominated by technical components. Cases of lenses, intricate metal gears and small pre-assembled miniature in gold, silver and the five shades of jade. All the stuff a would be First Age Mechanist could hope to ask for. If he can get enough of this back to Thorns, a decent artificer could make pretty much anything for Marrow. He'd have to find a good explanation for getting his hands on this stuff to start with, but he could think of something..

    But there are other prizes too. A magnificent selection of such in fact. A box marked 'reclamation' is full of jade necklaces and fancy orichalcum rings - it'd be worth a mint on the surface. There's a hefty looking pair of black gauntlets resting against one wall - they look oversized by any mortal standard to Marrow, which likely marks them as weapons of some description. One corner holds what seems to be a metal bird, with wire outlining its wing feathers and everything. There's a small square slab of blue jade in one corner, small enough to fit into his palm but heftier than it looks, wrought with stylized gusts of wind. There are even paintings - a selection of canvases, impeccably preserved have been stacked in one corner.

    There are many, many treasures to be found here. If he's willing to take the time to look, who knows what Marrow might uncover? The old man and his new wolf friend are already moving enraptured towards their haul, both seemingly quite intent on taking at least some share of these riches for themselves

    Spoiler
    Show
    You may roll to try and find something specific amidst the treasure horde - I'll let you pick the attribute and ability, just try to justify it to me. ;) Beyond that, the question becomes how much of this stuff can you get away with


    Rivers
    clunk

    It's a faint, distant sound but Rivers knows what it means. One of the barricades has sprung its first leak. With the sheer pressure of water so deep beneath the surface, and so many flimsy barricades all around them, the sublevel will flood in a matter of minutes. The shadow starts to go faster, wheeling from corridor to corridor with inhuman speed. Rivers stops briefly after a while, trying to take stock of their exact position. This place is a maze, but they have to be close to Whisper and Marrow now, right? There's still time to warn them, surely?

    And that's when they hear it.

    "He... hello? Is anyone there?"

    There's no mistaking those words. It's a woman's voice, clear and pleading against the near silence of the corridors. One of the victims, one Rivers hadn't managed to find earlier. She's awake, conscious and scared. If she's left here while the waters rise, that is how she'll die as well.

  4. - Top - End - #124
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    HalfTangible's Avatar

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    Default Re: Exalted 3e - Welcome to Thorns (IC)

    Quote Originally Posted by Inspector Valin View Post
    Heights Team
    Nord
    Intent on ensuring the evacuation proceeds smoothly, Nord proceeds downstairs swiftly. The flight of spiral stairs is long - it's obvious that once this tower had many floors beneath the sea level, but many of them have been boarded up. Finally he reaches the final level of the staircase, and a set of black jade doors. With a breath, Nord takes the handles, pulls them back and steps forward.

    Only for a shining silver knife to come flying at his head!

    On pure instinct, Nord rolls forward, the sudden blast of wind catching the Lookshyan by surprise. The silence of seconds ago has been replaced by the mighty roar of a great airship, a proper ol' Glorious Dragonfly class - wrought of steel and with engines that could propel it across the sky like lightning. The thing is taxiing right past the tower he currently stands on, making ready to jet away from this place. Glancing around, Nord can make out a crowd gathered in a plaza below him, and at his eye level are the upper reaches of a cityscape. It's as though he'd walked through half the world to emerge just beneath the sky atop some mighty tower. There's spires, obelisks, a ziggurat - most of which are wrought from familiar black and blue jade. And the skyships! There's far more of them here, small classes Nord has never seen before, zipping and gliding across the skyline.

    Indeed there's something familiar about the city set before him as a whole, something he can't quite put his finger on. The ring wall surrounding the district right below him makes Nord think of Lookshy of course, a few buildings look similar and he even fancies he can make out something like Lookshy Manse off in the distance. But it's clearly not his home - there's so much here he's never seen before, and so many familiar sights that aren't present. Where's the District of Schools? Artisans? The old Lighthouse? Almost everything is wrong. Even the sounds are off - the distant murmuring of people talking sounds distorted and garbled. It's like a strange reflection, or...

    "Look out!" Someone calls from below. Before the errant Karal can ponder his whereabouts much more, a pale fist marked with black claw-like tattoos sails towards his jaw.

    Nord sidesteps nimbly, raising his blade just as his assailant pulls a second knife. The Lookshyan gets a better look at him now, beneath the light of the evening sun. Pallid, with wild white hair and wearing a shabby thin coat, vest and trousers. Looks more like a beggar or a madman than a fighter. But he's swift with his knife in close quarters too, lunging forward fast enough to put Nord on the defensive. "You're good at this, tiger." The Madman's tone sounds almost lascivious. He waves a hand at the gathered crowd below them. "But you're only so good. You keep holding back. You're too worried about what they think of you to really go all out. Imagine what'd happen if you got someone killed because you were too scared to show the people what you really are."

    In an instant he jumps backwards, falling from the tower... only to rise again, standing upon a whirring platform of silver. The Madman flashes his adversary a wink and a grin, as a glittering silver crescent flickers to life upon his brow. "Let me know when you get over your 'I'm not a Dragon' complex! I'll be waiting!" And with those words, the strange Lunar flies towards the skyship - coat, hair and maniacal laugh trailing behind him in the wind.

    Nord blinks, and the breeze on his face is gone before his eyes clear. There's no city, no skyship, no Lunar. Just a relief - a carving depicting gathered Exalted legends of yesteryear. It's hard to resist a second glance - most of the assembled host are Dragon Blooded in shining jade armor, but in the midst of the group, proud and equal... are two figures that seem hauntingly familiar to the errant Lookshyan. A man in white robes with a small portable essence cannon, and a woman in a light green tunic who bears a flute and a bird upon their shoulder. You could be mistaken for thinking of them as Dragon Blooded, but each bare a golden symbol upon their brow. These are Anathema, clearly: Blasphemous and Unclean by their marks.

    And yet here, they stand with the Dragon Blooded. As part of the group. Equals. Friends.
    Nord was stunned into silence, and frozen by shock. He'd never had a vision like that before.

    He was quite certain he'd never seen this Madman before. Certainly, there was no rivalry as his attack would imply and Nord didn't like men, so his lascivious tone was from nothing he'd done.

    Yet... the Lunar was familiar, in the way one might think on an old schoolmate. That same sort of 'oh right, i can't believe I forgot about him!' feeling. But if that was a vision of the past, Lookshy during the Shogunate (or heavens above, perhaps before then!) why was the Madman speaking to him of his current troubles? Or... perhaps his Exaltation had been in a similar position? If it was the Shogunate that would make sense... but...

    Absently, his hand reached up to his forehead, where the mark of his caste could appear in but a moment if he willed it. "... It's not just the dragons I'm worried about anyway." He whispered. Once, he thought he might be content with being Saki's lover for the rest of his days. He would never be a dragon, but perhaps their children would be. He had been content to be a warrior, seeking out his home's enemies, never living down his shame but always fighting in spite of it.

    And then he'd been marked Forsaken.

    Tunyo's drills, he had no friends among the mortals, the dragons or among the Anathema.

    All of the golden demons were horrible in their own unique ways, and he knew from old legends they possessed enough cunning to work together, but... His caste was called the Forsaken, and for good reason. In the old fables, at the end of the Anathema's dark age, the dragon-blooded shattered their empire. The Wretched hid, the Unclean made fel pacts and bargains, the Deceivers lied and schemed, the Blasphemers gathered the followers of their dark designs... and all four of them had left the Forsaken to die. They fought like demons, but still they died, cursing their fellows for abandoning them.

    Revealing his status to the others would only bring them fear at best. Worse, they may reject his help altogether. Then what would become of Thorns? Just upstairs he'd torn apart a necrotech monstrosity in a single attack (technically two but who was counting?) that would likely have eaten hundreds. And saved so many!

    But... he looked over the faces of the dragons standing with the Anathema. They still stood as equals... and such a glorious world they seemed to rule over...

    ... But last he'd checked, the Anathema were what was threatening this city in the first place. Even if the mural were true, that was not the age he was in. Though his heart ached to return to Saki's waiting arms, there was no going home now. He knew that. Even if the Immaculate Faith was not as strict there as elsewhere, Lookshy would never accept Anathema. Even now in Thorns, where the people needed all the help they could get, he'd taken care to keep the truth of his powers secret from Marrow and Rivers...

    The thought of them snapped him back to reality. How long had it been since he'd left the boat?! Too long, they needed to get moving now!

    He whipped around and almost gave a loud whistle, before stopping himself. What position were they in right now? Were they in need of reinforcement, or was he about to blow their cover? Safest to assume the latter for now, until he found one of them. Taking a moment to breath and calm himself, he looked about the room. Stealth was one of his specialties... well, okay, his specialties were surviving and stabbing, but he was pretty good at stealth as well... at least when preparing an ambush. Sneaking around to keep himself from getting hurt was... less of one.

    Spoiler
    Show
    Nord is going to sneak around down here and see what/who he can find, specifically looking for Marrow, Rivers and Whisper.

    Dex 3 + Stealth 3 + Stunt 2 = 4sux
    (8d10)[2][8][8][9][6][5][9][5](52)

    Perception 2 + Awareness 2 + Stunt 2 = 2sux
    (6d10)[4][1][10][4][4][5](28)

    And danger sense grants me one more die to detect anything dangerous:
    (1d10)[6]
    Last edited by HalfTangible; 2020-04-30 at 08:43 PM.
    Hate me if you want. But that's your issue to fix, not mine.

    Primal ego vos, estis ex nihilo.

    When Gods Go To War comes out March 8th

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  5. - Top - End - #125
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    The_Snark's Avatar

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    Default Re: Exalted 3e - Welcome to Thorns (IC)

    By way of reply, Whisper flicks her tail through Lacroix's head - or through the space where his head was a moment ago, anyway. She's pretty sure he's really gone, not just invisible or something, but if she got him to flinch one last time, good. He was a jerk.

    But he's gone, now, and she can put thoughts of him aside. (For real this time, not just another feint.) Whisper sheds her crocodile form, mass and scales both dissolving into the silver glow of her anima. Then, with a thought, the aura of moonlight itself folds back under her skin, leaving only Whisper in her bare feet and faded clothes atop the scaffold. (Plus one massive black greatsword, which clatters to the floor now that she no longer has the strength to hold it.) The ghosts are hurt, and scared, and probably still confused. They don't need an Ogre looming over them, all limned in silver and black. They need a friendly face.

    She clambers swiftly down, finding it much easier in her normal form, and waits for the newly-freed prisoners to collect their wits about them. Only blood on her lips and the silver circle on her brow suggest she is anything out of the ordinary... well, that and the context.

    Spoiler
    Show
    Invoking the No Moon anima power to shed anima for a point of Willpower.
    Last edited by The_Snark; 2020-05-02 at 08:31 PM.
    Avatar by GryffonDurime. Thanks!

  6. - Top - End - #126
    Ettin in the Playground
     
    Eurus's Avatar

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    Default Re: Exalted 3e - Welcome to Thorns (IC)

    With a dramatic flicker of shadow and moonlight, the old lady sits down at the organ. She spreads her arms and cracks her knuckles, then pops her neck, a disconcertingly loud sound from her elderly joints. The power-up sequence is simple to play, if utterly uninspired -- it's a melodramatic little set of chords that Granny's pretty sure she's heard in a dozen overblown street plays. Scratching her chin, she starts fiddling with the pedals and knobs on the elaborate contraption to set the key to something more appealing.

    Ten minutes to practice. And really, this whole day has been such a mess that a bit of music wouldn't go amiss anyway. Something appropriate...

    When the first few bars of "The North Lookshyan Squadron" start booming out through the tower, accompanied by Granny's rasping voice, she can't help grinning like a maniac.
    Avatar by araveugnitsuga.

  7. - Top - End - #127
    Firbolg in the Playground
     
    BlueWizardGirl

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    Default Re: Exalted 3e - Welcome to Thorns (IC)

    "How many unlucky stars can a person be born under?" Rivers growls in frustration as they skid to a sudden halt. There's no time, no time for any of this. But they can't call it quits, can't abandon anyone. After the city's fall, they swore... they won't run away again.

    Their reemergence into physical reality is a comfort, at least. Weight and feeling reassert themselves with welcome familiarity. Proper air - humid and stale though it might be - fills Rivers' lungs again, and they call out in answer to the woman's voice.

    "I'm here, and I'll help you. Keep talking, and I'll follow your voice. We don't have much time, so we need to be quick..."


    Quick to free her, then quick to find Marrow... But, honestly, Rivers can't fathom where they'll go from there. If the weapon below reaches full activation, nowhere in or around the tower will be safe...

    Yet, for all the grimness of the situation, Rivers could swear they hear a faint echo of incongruously jaunty music in the background, deep toned, but with a dancing rhythm. In fact, it sounds something like...

    The North Lookshyan Squadron? I must be going mad from stress.
    Last edited by Ascension; 2020-05-01 at 01:12 PM.
    Current Games:
    Spoiler
    Show
    GMing The Lotus Blossoms! [Exalted 3E] (OOC)
    Playing Waldaharjaz in The Convergence of Sky [Exalted 3E]
    Playing Rivers in Welcome to Thorns [Exalted 3E]

  8. - Top - End - #128
    Ogre in the Playground
     
    pfm1995's Avatar

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    Default Re: Exalted 3e - Welcome to Thorns (IC)

    For a moment it feels like all creation is a hill sloping down towards Marrow, a tidal-wave of treasure on it threatening to drown him. Gold and gems and artifacts, enough to... gods, enough to do everything. Hire mercenaries, build an actual intelligence network instead of the patchwork of sympathetic informants they have now, build proper lines of communication with Lookshy and the Realm, maybe even smuggle his parents out of the city... His eyes glitter with avarice, and it's not until he catches himself panting that he finally shakes himself out of it. None of this is worth anything if we can't get it out of here. Come on, practicalities first.

    "Alright, both of you," he snaps in a tone he's practiced over and over again, the same one old doctors and aristocrats get. It's one that doesn't just demand, but expects obedience. "I know the temptation is to start grabbing as much as you can, but neither of you are in a shape to carry much at all and I really don't want to be carrying so much I can't shoot."

    He claps them both on the shoulder. "Spread out, look for something we can carry stuff in - I don't care if it's just a wheelbarrow. We may only have time for one trip, so lets make it count. If you find something, shout."

    With that, Marrow takes his own advice and starts moving through the titanic, obscenely wealthy stacks - though as he passes, his hand does snake out to take the small blue-jade slab and slip it into a pocket.

    Spoiler: Rolls
    Show
    Rolling Perception + Awareness for now, with a 4m excellency.

    (9d10)[3][1][7][6][5][3][8][9][6](48) + 2 successes

  9. - Top - End - #129
    Barbarian in the Playground
     
    MonkGirl

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    Default Re: Exalted 3e - Welcome to Thorns (IC)

    The Dancer looks up at Granny. Oh yes, she'd heard this one many times, but not for several years. It's not even been a decade, but it feels like a lifetime ago, she'd hear strands of this song and its ilk down on the shipyards, when the sailors and engineers were taking their lunches. She'd turn a corner, hoping to hover on the periphery, listen in and perhaps be included...but no, she'd be spotted, everyone would snap to attention and the best she could manage was a half-hearted 'as you were'. But they'd never just go back to their merry-making as though she weren't there. She'd have to be well and truly gone before they'd start again.

    Now though, on this strange pastiche of war-engine and instrument, there's a batty old woman who happens to be a monster out of ancient legend playing this strange catchy tune and singing. The Dancer can't help but tap her feet. A grin spreads across her face. What in Malfeas was stopping her? Today's already absurd, might as well give in and join the madness.

    "Don't stop Madam! Pyrefly, follow my lead!" With that she begins a light-stepping jig, treating the ball of blue flame as her partner. She twirls, bows, kicks up her heels and springs. This is the kind of music you don't get in the palace, music that must be danced and laughed to, something she's rarely had the luxury of enjoying.
    Sorry for making things complicated!
    -Me

  10. - Top - End - #130
    Ettin in the Playground
     
    HalflingWizardGirl

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    Default Re: Exalted 3e - Welcome to Thorns (IC)

    Heights Team
    Granny, Dancer
    The Storm Hammer crackles and sparks as Granny's playing begins the activation phase, arcane energies beginning to hum with every note. Soon enough though, the sonorous ommm fades away towards the rooftop and the notes of the old familiar song are what reverberates across the tower and bay. Aboard the escape ship far below, the former prisoners up on deck begin to laugh - joining in the lyrics at the top of their lungs. After everything that's happened to them, the distant sound of merriment is something they're all too happy to sieze upon.

    Pyrefly had seemingly been growing a little nervous prior to Dancer's suggestion, but the little sprite is all too happy to follow her lead. It's a touch slow to respond at first - Lacroix had never shown this sense of fun, so the very concept is unfamiliar to Pyrefly, but through its growing knowledge of Dancer the Heartflame can start to intuit the intent behind her motions, what she sought of her new friend. And soon enough the little blue flame twirls through the air at her side, merrily making a strange lyrical chirruping sound as the tower's foundations seem to shake with every note of the old familiar ballard.

    Depths Team
    Whisper
    Whisper watches as the ghosts begin to collect themselves. She sees some fade away; now given the chance of Lethe, most are quite content to move on to whatever fate awaits them in their next life. But after so much pain, anger and fear, many of them are unable to let go of their ties to the world of mortals. After a few minutes, about two dozen ghosts are left in the room. All figures she cought glimpses of amidst the soulform. They will linger, at least for now.

    The Nexan with the whispy goatee is the first to approach Whisper, gazing curiously into the waif's eyes. It seems impossible that this figure was the one they'd cought glimpses of, the one who entered the room and brought down the cage, and yet... who else could it be? "You saved us." It's a statement, not a question. And following it, the Nexan bows in silent gratitude, even as his associates float closer to join the conversation. A faint chorus of questions rises, the ghosts exchanging looks with one another, trying to process both their fate in general and this situation in particular. "How... why..."

    But one question cuts above the rest - asked quietly, but with desperate intent by some anonymous member of the crowd.

    "What do we do now?"

    That is the heart of the matter, what all of the spirits are asking inwardly. None of them exactly chose this fate, none of them have a clear path forward now that they are freed from the cage. All eyes in the room turn to Whisper, expectantly. She'd saved them from Oblivion. She's the hero all of them. She has to have a plan.

    Right?

    Rivers
    "This way! I'm down here!"

    Exclamation given, the woman starts to hum - a simple, continuous tone that's easy to track down the corridor. Rivers is on her position in a matter of seconds, bursting through the door to some kind of medical facility. The place is so blindingly white and brightly lit it sends Rivers reeling for a second, blinding the unfortunate Dragon with the glare. After a swift recovery however, they're in the room and moving swiftly to the victim's side, knocking other tables and medical equipment to the floor in the wake of their desperate charge.

    Rivers' new friend doesn't look in the best of shape. Far from it, of all the victims Marrow has seen so far, the pink haired woman before him seems to have been the furthest 'along' - the necrotechs having been well into their gruesome work by the time the alarm sounded. There's deep gouges still open across her body, most of her skin is soaked in her own blood, and Rivers can see the red marks around her eyes born of tears. Yet somehow, despite her grevious wounds she has remained conscious, even composed: rising to her wavering feet as soon as Rivers has removed her restraints, before giving the guard a warm smile and a nod.

    "Thanks... Gods, what's even happening?"

    Behind them, Rivers can hear another crash of splintering metal as a second barricade gives. The sound of rushing water is uncomfortably loud, even starting to drown out the distant music. And yet the tower continues to feel like its shaking.

    Marrow
    "Makes sense, lad, makes sense. You're right, we've gotta be careful." The old man nods sagely before starting to walk further in to inspect the room. The wolfman follows close behind him with a grunt, starting to heft some of the larger objects around so the trio can take a better account of the riches the room contains. Whitebeard meanwhile has found a series of hefty looking hessian sacks - enough for a substantial haul, especially with some strong rope lying beside them.

    As Marrow'd surmised, the main portion of the room was given over to the technological components and miniature devices the Mask's staff wanted to have on hand. Following that are the crates of excess material - some of jewelry and others full of what appear to be ancient currency - also stored prominently, likely so the technicians would have raw material for rendering down should the need arise. Studying the coins, Marrow could be forgiven for light shock - they're wrought of solid gold and silver, and bear the marks of the Anathema where a dinar today might hold the Guild's seal. These must predate even the Shogunate.

    And then there are the artifacts. Already, Marrow had noted the two enormous gauntlets of Black Jade - outsized to any armor he's ever witnessed, which seem to bear draconic imagery but twisted in some way he can't quite identify at a glance. Above, in a shining cage is that metal bird he'd noticed earlier - it looks amazingly lifelike if you could somehow forget that real birds are beings of flesh and feather rather than wire and chrome. For completeness sake, Marrow briefly inspects the paintings he had spotted earlier - they're all in great condition, and would be easy to sell in Shroudvant. He recognizes some of the scenes from the murals the group passed on their way in, though these are more detailed and some of the images are new to him. There's a real history here, one that scholars would kill in order to study.

    But these are merely the most evident treasures in the room. Pulling the technical components and large crates of forward helps to reveal yet more wonders in need of retrieval. Beneath the portraits, Marrow finds the table they rest upon to be impressive in its own right - it's as large as the Petricorum's heftiest map table, yet carved of solid white jade, and he can find buttons around the edge suggesting some functionality to it beyond support. Resting against one leg is a hefty disk of Moonsilver. Picking it up, Marrow finds the surface ever so slightly translucent - enough so to make out starmetal wires running through its centre. To one side, behind one of the component shelves, is a full length mirror, with a silver frame wrought to look like whirling flames. At its base rests a small brown metal box - a couple of feet square, with segmentation that suggests it unfurls somehow, but no evident mechanism to do so.

    Many of these items have properties that could likely be helpful. However Marrow has no time for proper identification if they're to leave this place in any sort of reasonable timeframe. He continues to a far corner - something that'd at first seemed like a bizarre bit of shelving may be an item in its own right - there's a strange wooden construct, like some strange cobbled together series of poles limbs. It looks more like some enormous puzzle than an item of wonder, but it has been stored here with the rest all the same. Running a hand across it confirms that it was made to be reshaped in some way. On the other side of the room, Marrow can hear the old man hum to himself. Turning, he sees what looks almost like a sub chamber to their little vault, a door previously hidden behind stacks of coinage now wide open. Within lies a hefty glass cylinder - large enough to step inside, raised up on a dias above the floor, with a small pedestal set into its side. A few feet away from it is a large wooden cabinet, the design of a bronze spider marked in leaf upon its side. Resting against the tube is a very fine looking saxian - with strings of some strange silk, and a board of dark Stygian elm. It must've cost more than most musicians will make in a lifetime.

    And behind the tube, Marrow and his new compatriots step forward to find...

    A massive golden serpent.

    The creature has risen perhaps seven feet above the ground, though Marrow can see its full body stretching back behind it further, into the darkness. A second glance confirms it as an artifical being - its eyes are lapis stones, sparkling with some faint enchantment as the orichalcum plates of its torso clack gently against each other. Perhaps more majestic than its body however is its plumage - its nape through half its back is covered in a coat of shimmering rainbow feathers that shift through vibrant hues even as Marrow looks at them. Those don't look metallic, at least not at a glance.

    With instincts born of a lifetime, the old man raises his hands slowly skyward, backing away from the creature. "Nice shiny, easy... you ain't gonna kill us for coming in here, are you?"

    The Serpent looks confused by this suggestion. It takes a second to ponder the matter before shaking its head. "No. I am unsure as to where 'here' is." It glances behind you to the vault chamber, before returning its attention to these new friends with a question. "Can I assist you in any way?"

    "Well... well sure, if you're offering!" The old man knows how to roll with the situation, it seems. He gives the golden serpent a hearty pat on the side, before turning around. "Give us a hand, would ya? I mean... you know. We've got a lotta stuff to pick out and shift here and only so much time." The Feathered Serpent gives Marrow a slightly confused look before turning to follow the old man back, happy to be of use. Marrow can feel a faint shudder as the distant sound of music starts to emanate from some higher floor. It almost feels like the whole tower is on the verge of collapse.

    Spoiler
    Show
    So, congratulations! You have looted the best loot - another person to help you do more looting!

    That said, you're gonna need an order action to get the other two to follow your plan, and give you full command over the Serpent. For now, you may take one item from this list per dot of strength, with the Feathered Serpent allowing you an additional 3 slots, given some kind of sledge setup. (Congrats on finding them!) If you want more control over what gets grabbed I'm gonna need an order action - 1sux gets you 1 slot - the Serpent has 4 more available slots, Wolfman can carry 3 things, old man 2. (And of course, while the split the serpent takes is negotiable, if you use the prisoners they're gonna see whatever they're hauling as theirs, barring some skilled persuasion/compensation later.)

    This list is comprehensive - you got enough successes for that. But not enough for me to ID it for you. ;) Choose wisely!
    • Artifact Components - x 5 lots
    • Painting Collection - x2 lots
    • Antique Coinage - x6 lots
    • Orichalcum, Jade and Moonsilver Jewelry - 1 lot each
    • Black Jade Seven Aeon Gauntlets (Heavy Brawl Weapons - Bashing, Brawl, Grappling, Smashing, Worn)
    • Mechanical Bird
    • Large White Jade Table
    • Moonsilver Disk - 5 ft diameter, starmetal incorporated
    • Silver Framed Full Plane Mirror
    • The Box
    • Strange Wooden Construct - roughly 8 ft long and 5'4 tall.
    • 8ft tall glass cylinder with accompanying device (2 lots weight)
    • Large Wooden Cabinet - no key
    • Sanxian

    Last edited by Inspector Valin; 2020-05-03 at 07:43 AM.

  11. - Top - End - #131
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    Default Re: Exalted 3e - Welcome to Thorns (IC)

    Whisper watches the ghosts sort themselves out, a feeling of satisfaction coiling in her breast. Some of them are finished, ready to forget and be born anew. Some want to stay and keep going. None of them are torn apart to be used as reagents in some necromancer's concoction. This is good. This is as it should be.

    "First," she says, once they've pulled themselves together enough to speak to her, "we have to get out of here. It's not safe. The Mask's people are gone for now, but they'll be back. Anyone who's still here then is just going to get caught again"

    "I have some friends upstairs,"
    okay, they're not exactly her friends, she's barely met them, but they didn't attack her and she hopes they'll be friends when they talk more and that's close enough, right? "With a boat. They're getting ready to take all the living prisoners away. You could go with them. Or you could set out on your own, if you prefer. You can't drown and you don't get tired, now that you're dead, so nothing is stopping you from just swimming away. Or walking along the bottom of the ocean. But the ocean is a big place, if you get lost you might stay lost for a very long time. I'm going to be on the boat."

    Assuming they let her. They will let her, right? She helped. They've probably already guessed what she is, the silver mark on her brow won't surprise them. Whisper hopes.

    She stoops to pick up Lacroix's soulsteel sword, staggering under the weight - she's going to have to drag it until she finds someone stronger. Hopefully Rivers or Marrow are nearby, she hadn't meant to get separated from them... "Come on. There's stairs, I'll show you the way out."
    Last edited by The_Snark; 2020-05-05 at 06:12 AM.
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  12. - Top - End - #132
    Firbolg in the Playground
     
    BlueWizardGirl

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    Default Re: Exalted 3e - Welcome to Thorns (IC)

    "Disaster's happening... again," Rivers gripes. They've got neither the medical skill nor the time to tend to the woman's wounds; the best they can do is get her out of here quickly.

    "This part of the tower is starting to flood. If you'll excuse me..."


    They hoist the woman onto their shoulders without giving her time to refuse. Even if she can walk now, there's no telling how much strength she's got left with the amount of blood she's lost, and if she collapses somewhere along the way and they have to go back for her, that's just more time lost. Better to treat her like a sack of flour for the moment and apologize after she survives.

    "I've got friends down here,"
    they tell her. That's probably overstating things, not just with Whisper but even with Marrow, but it takes less explaining than 'I've got allies of convenience down here, and I've gone soft.' "I've got to make sure they've caught on to the 'we've gotta run' thing. So we're going for a jog. 'pologies."

    They set off at the fastest pace they can manage with the weight of the wounded woman bearing down on them, shouting all the way, "Marrow! Whisper! Water's rising! It's time to go!"
    Current Games:
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    GMing The Lotus Blossoms! [Exalted 3E] (OOC)
    Playing Waldaharjaz in The Convergence of Sky [Exalted 3E]
    Playing Rivers in Welcome to Thorns [Exalted 3E]

  13. - Top - End - #133
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    Default Re: Exalted 3e - Welcome to Thorns (IC)

    Awestruck for the third time in as many minutes, as the golden serpend winds its way forward Marrow again extends a hand to gently run his fingers through its iridescent mane. When he does, he feels a sudden sharp sensation - like a static shock, but formed of the sheer amount of essence running through the creature. "Wha... what are you?" he half whispers, staring on in wonder.

    Before the creature can answer, down winding corridors he hears Rivers shouting and though he can't make out the words the tone is clear. Time to go.

    "Nevermind, if you're helping all that can wait. Here," he tosses a bundle of sacks to the old man. "Start filling these with those components - forget about the coins, they'll lead the Mask right to us if we try to sell them. You," he gestures at the wolfman, "I'm sorryI haven't asked your name, but help me flip this." He gestures at the white-jade table. The heavy, heavy white-jade table - even between the two of them, this wasn't going to be easy. "And you... I apologize." He says, feeling his face warm. "We'll need to balance this on your back. We'll need all of us, working together, for this to work." As he speaks, the nut-brown veins running throughout his body begin to pulse with an eerie amber light as his voice echoes like the most necessary lash. Each word sets limbs to jerking, distractions forgotten as they all become part of a larger whole. It's a matter of a few moments more to secure their ramshackle conveyance with a few spare ropes and bracing, and Marrow quickly has them piling it high with various irreplaceable ancient artifacts.

    As they make their way out of the room, the bipeds keeping the table balanced as the feathered serpent winds its way forwards, Marrow glances back at the several fortunes of history they're leaving behind. There was so much here... stories of a bygone age, a history he'd never even though possible. Pangs of conscious filling him, he stopped their conveyance for a moment to hold his cedar plaque up against the keystone again. If he could seal this place away, he would.

    They reached the other prisoners right as Rivers did.

    Spoiler: Actions
    Show
    Alright, rolling Charisma + War. Using a full excellency (5m) which also lets him reroll sixes until there aren't any left. Also using Blazing Courageous Swordsman Inspiration (2m) to add an additional non-Charm die for every 10 rolled.

    Spoiler: Rolls
    Show
    "Roll" - (15d10)[10][4][2][3][4][10][10][5][8][2][6][7][1][2][6](80)
    "Additional due to 10s" - (4d10)[3][9][3][8](23)
    "Reroll 6s" - (6d10)[8][10][7][3][7][5](40)

  14. - Top - End - #134
    Ettin in the Playground
     
    HalflingWizardGirl

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    Default Re: Exalted 3e - Welcome to Thorns (IC)

    Heights Team
    Dancer, Granny
    The cheers from the escape ship are loud enough for Granny and Dancer to just about make them out as the first rendition of the old ballad comes to an end. The Storm Hammer is continuing to shudder, building charge as a patch of clouds start to rise above the tower, a crackling dark cloud amidst the mists that conceal the ancient manse. Chips of dust and debris fall from the ceiling of the hearthroom.

    Is it just their imagination, or is that rumbling getting more intense?

    Depths Team
    Whisper, Marrow, Rivers, Nord
    The groups converge with almost perfect synchronicity. Whisper, with her lit brow and ghostly entourage, emerges from the garden just as Marrow and his newfound associates step out of the vault, with Rivers baring his pink locked rescuee from the third point of the intersection an instant thereafter. As soon as the Water Dragon has his words out, as if adding punctuation to their cousin's point, the group hears a rending crash as a nearby barricade gives way substantially, followed by the roar of the Inland Sea rushing forward to claim the lot of them.

    Their time is quite firmly up.

    Whisper's new friends attend to the three fallen prisoners - to those without ghost sight their bodies seem to rise limply upward, as though pulled by marionette strings. The Serpent is right behind them - swift as a sunbeam despite the hefty load, with the old man and his lupine friend keeping pace and balance for their well gotten gains. The collective start to tear down the passageway, much to the likely surprise of Karal Nord, who has just turned one of the labyrinthine corners of this place only to see the people he came to retrieve running very quickly in the other direction.

    On the passageway walls, the mosaic figures of heroes past look on while their successors sprint towards the surface, their lives and freedom on the line as what feels like all the waters of Daana’d are baring down behind them.

    Spoiler
    Show
    So. I... guess this is a foot race? Against the water?

    Well, we should try doing something according to the rules, if only for the novelty value. This will be an Extended Action for the lot of you to get out of the flooding sublevels. For the sake of pacing, feel free to just make 5 rolls with your next post - if you win early, any extra will be used to help your allies get out in time.

    Escape the Sublevels - Dexterity + Athletics

    Goal Number - 15
    Difficulty - 2
    Interval - 1 minute
    Terminus - 5 rolls
    Last edited by Inspector Valin; 2020-05-05 at 12:08 PM.

  15. - Top - End - #135
    Titan in the Playground
     
    HalfTangible's Avatar

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    Default Re: Exalted 3e - Welcome to Thorns (IC)

    Right as the Lookshyan mercenary sees his comrades of convenience and reveals himself, he gives a sleepy half-grin and holds up a hand. "I hope you're done down here, because we've got-

    Then he hears the rushing water for the first time. Nord's grin dies. He doesn't ask questions - not that he doesn't have any, such as where the hells that giant snake came from - he just whistles and gestures for the stairs, taking only a moment to make sure everyone else is behind him as he turns to run.

    Nord can hear the rushing water around them as the group bolts for the stairs. He skips as many stairs as he can on their way up, stumbling only the once. He feels no strain in his muscles, but as his allies begin to overtake him fear begins to burn in his mind. Just because he won't tire himself from this exertion doesn't mean he's fast enough to get away. Speed was never his forte, strength and stamina were. There's a brief flash in his head of water everywhere, filling his lungs, forcing him deeper into the waters... Rivers could save him perhaps (a water aspect couldn't drown, surely), but he doubted they would; it would only slow the entire group if they tried to save those who fell behind.

    And Rivers was running to, so even that was speculative. Maybe they'd die just as easily as the rest of them.

    This fear was new, and unfamiliar. Nord had not faced many problems he couldn't stab. He hadn't Exalted as a dragon, but that had been more shame than fear. He'd been afraid when he became Forsaken and fled, but that fear was tempered by the knowledge that what he'd lost was lost, and the situation could not be changed. This, though... he had a chance. It was almost cruel. As the minutes dragged on and the rushing water grew louder, all he could do was fight the notion that they were perhaps too slow. That it didn't matter what he did, he was screwed no matter what.

    As so often happened when his life was in danger these days, he thought back to what his love would say and do in this situation. He honestly didn't know; Saki had always been so confident, so boisterous. He couldn't picture her running for her life in a near-blind panic. As much as he loved watching Saki show off... Nord wasn't the type to do such things. He wasn't the type to gloat over his victories or laud his accomplishments to whoever would listen. Nord just did his job and let his accomplishments speak for themselves.

    ... Which he'd already done despite his curse. Whether they made it out of here or not, the boat had instructions to leave if they thought they were in danger or if 10 minutes passed. In all likelihood, the group wouldn't make that deadline anyway. So the boat would leave, and return to Thorns with the supplies and resources necessary to build up a true resistance. And that was discounting Dancer and Granny; perhaps they would help. Even if he died, the resistance would make it.

    And as he realized this he grinned, and pushed himself harder. What was he so afraid of? He'd make it, or he wouldn't. If he did, great. If he didn't... well, atonement over. He'd gotten the resistance what they needed to continue.

    Because dead or alive, Nord just was.

    Spoiler
    Show
    Spending 4wp on the last 4 rolls
    8/15
    Stunts:
    1 (2d10)[7][4](11) = 1sux 9/15
    2 (2d10)[8][10](18) +1wp = 4sux 13/15
    3 (2d10)[4][5](9) +1wp = 1sux 14/15
    4 (2d10)[10][3](13) +1wp = 3sux 17/15
    5 (2d10)[10][7](17) +1wp = 4sux 21/15

    +12sux

    21/15
    Last edited by HalfTangible; 2020-05-05 at 01:21 PM.
    Hate me if you want. But that's your issue to fix, not mine.

    Primal ego vos, estis ex nihilo.

    When Gods Go To War comes out March 8th

    Discord: HalfTangible

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  16. - Top - End - #136
    Firbolg in the Playground
     
    BlueWizardGirl

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    Default Re: Exalted 3e - Welcome to Thorns (IC)

    Rivers themself is in comparatively little danger from the flood. The impact of the water might bruise, and it would hurt like hell if the wave carried them into a wall, but they won't drown, regardless. Their main concern, then, is the others. They do their best to keep pace with them so that they can give a helping hand or a forceful push wherever one might be needed... and so that they might catch any bits and pieces of Marrow's awe-inspiring loot pile if anything should fall to the wayside.

    "I was right!"
    they pant as they race to reach the stairs ahead of the flood, "Marrow, my boy... you are a quartermaster at heart!"

    Even as the muscles in their legs begin to burn, even as each stair feels like a higher climb than the last, Rivers' every other breath comes out as a laugh.

    Spoiler: OOC and Rolls
    Show
    I also do not have an Athletics Excellency. Fun times. I'll spend one WP for an auto-success on Rivers' first roll, but since the consequences of failure aren't quite as great for them as they might be for others, I'll save resources for the rest and just roll them straight. Here goes nothing!

    (6d10)[8][10][7][1][8][8](42)+1 success
    (6d10)[2][6][8][1][4][6](27)
    (6d10)[6][9][7][10][3][4](39)
    (6d10)[7][4][1][1][10][8](31)
    (6d10)[5][5][8][8][7][6](39)
    Current Games:
    Spoiler
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    GMing The Lotus Blossoms! [Exalted 3E] (OOC)
    Playing Waldaharjaz in The Convergence of Sky [Exalted 3E]
    Playing Rivers in Welcome to Thorns [Exalted 3E]

  17. - Top - End - #137
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    pfm1995's Avatar

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    Default Re: Exalted 3e - Welcome to Thorns (IC)

    Marrow rolled his eyes at Rivers' joke, cutting back on his rejoinder in favor of breathing - something that was getting harder and harder as he stormed up the stairs, trying to keep his snake-driven upturned table upright and the beaten and wary prisoners up on their feet. With every spare breath he exhorted them to go faster, with every other step Quiet's stock clapped against his calf and he mentally cursed his paranoia for not making him secure it properly. Together they stormed past recent construction and ancient stonework alike, past murals predating history as he knew it, and it was the greatest disappointment of the night so far that he wouldn't have a chance to study them further. How could he not be curious, when it put so much of what he'd been taught as a child to doubt? When would he ever have a chance like this again?

    All those questions could wait. For now there was just one foot in front of the other, climbing step by step towards the light.

    Spoiler: Rolls
    Show
    Guess who also doesn't have the Athletics excellency?

    (9d10)[3][4][1][9][7][3][1][6][7](41)
    (9d10)[2][4][4][2][2][9][6][3][2](34)
    (9d10)[8][2][7][7][10][1][8][1][2](46)
    (9d10)[3][10][6][4][3][10][4][1][7](48)
    (9d10)[7][2][2][3][3][6][6][5][8](42)

  18. - Top - End - #138
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    Default Re: Exalted 3e - Welcome to Thorns (IC)

    Whisper does not at first realize what the sound is, but she needs little encouragement to start running. Commander Lacroix's parting remark about dying with honor has been echoing in her mind the last couple minutes, and the tower shuddering around them cannot herald anything good. Time to go, past time to go.

    But it quickly becomes clear that burdened as she is, she's going to fall behind. Some of the others are carrying more than she is - Rivers and the lady over their shoulder, the feathery snake with its precariously-balanced burden - but they're stronger than her. And taller. Whisper's body just isn't built for running.

    Fortunately, she has others to pick from. Her body shimmers and elongates, and a moment later the clattering sound of hoofbeats fills the corridor as she races to catch up.

    Spoiler: OOC
    Show
    Flurrying the first roll with a shapeshifting action - specifically, turning into a horse. Dex+Athletics is not specified since NPC statblocks don't include Abilities/Attributes, but the listed combat movement pool is 12, which I assume is applicable here...

    (11d10)[10][5][2][4][4][2][7][9][5][8][2](58)
    (14d10)[6][5][8][5][3][6][9][7][7][7][8][6][6][7](90)
    (14d10)[7][4][6][1][7][6][1][1][8][4][5][9][10][3](72)
    (14d10)[4][7][5][10][1][3][4][4][8][3][10][5][9][8](81)
    (14d10)[10][4][5][6][8][10][7][4][5][7][5][3][10][9](93)
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  19. - Top - End - #139
    Ettin in the Playground
     
    HalflingWizardGirl

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    Default Re: Exalted 3e - Welcome to Thorns (IC)

    Depths Team
    Rivers, Marrow, Nord, Whisper
    It's a madcap scramble through the sunken hallways! The group set a frantic pace, charging across old flagstones as the rising waters draw ever nearer behind them. The treasure haul is almost enough to slow the group down, yet with Nord setting a worthy pace and the now transformed Whisper bringing up the rear, the others are urged onward. The collective energy of the moment is intense, and catching a glimpse of the frescoes, it seems like the battling figures are cheering for the group, urging them onwards towards the stairs, safety, and the future. It can't be that much further, surely?!

    Heights Team
    Granny, Dancer
    With one final note from Granny, the Storm Hammer lets out a pleasant ohm, as the activation phase finally concludes. There's a 'kraka-thooom' outside as a great bolt of violet lightning shoots upwards, rippling through the newly assembled cloud with a shower of vibrant sparks in such usual thunderstorm colours as blue, orange, pink and green. The cloud too now bares these hues, softly painted upon itself, shifting between them like some manic Wyld thing of watercolour whimsy. It's bizarre... but not too hard upon the eyes. Especially after so long spent in the shadows and muted tones of a Shadowland.

    Down on the boat, there's a growing sense of good cheer amongst the escapees. The airship, after all, has not attacked. They're safe after all. Ten minutes has been enough time for a good half of the former prisoners to assemble up on deck to watch the show. They ooh and ah at the stormcloud - surely the work of their saviors, meant to destroy Mask's wretched isle. Far louder cheers go up - loud enough for Granny and Dancer to hear them clearly, even from the high elevation of the Hearthroom.

    The Cureva, as tempted as they are, don't join in the celebration. They know that this mission isn't done yet, and the sight of the brewing pastel storm just reinforces that fact. Stone Thrown and Fallen Leaf stand together by the gangplank, the pair still looking back at the path for any sign of Marrow or the others. Finally Stone turns to the man at his side with a sigh. "You heard what Nord said. It's been about ten minutes, and we should be clear when the tower comes down, in case the debris damages the ship. Time we cast off."

    "Heh. Don't need to tell me twice Stone! CAST OFF!" Falling Leaf calls, as the crew set to work on raising the anchor and activating the paddlewheel. Leaf himself heads off to the helm, grinning to Stone as he leaves. Soon enough the great ship starts chugging away from the isle. The crowd hoot and holler at the roar of the engine, waving farewell at their former prison. Stone Thrown meanwhile turns the other way, wandering through the laughing passengers towards the bow of their newly acquired craft. He sighs, leaning over the side to look down towards the darkened waters below, trying to empty his mind by looking into the depths.

    Something seems wrong. He can't quite shake a twisting feeling in his gut. He's sure Leaf felt it too, and is just trying to smile through the fear. They've missed something. Marrow should be here with them, not just as their leader - Marrow is sharp, intelligent and observant. He'd be able to work out what's off about this situation. But Stone can't just differ responsibility to their leader, Dragon-Blooded or no. They're all students of the Petricorum, all supposed to excel. All he can do is try to think this through and apply logic to find what's at the root of his unease.

    Spoiler: OOC
    Show
    Bookkeeping time. Apologies for the tedium, but the next full update will take a little time to write, so consider this a tease, and I'd like to get all my ducks in a row with you guys first.

    To reiterate for the record, I gave Nord and Rivers a 2 point stunt for setup and making me laugh respectively. So 1wp each. And regardless, you guys cleared the Extended Action with flying colours as a group! Whooo! Now, you haven't been here a full hour, but between the various things you've been up to, I'm inclined to be a bit generous with Mote Regen. Everyone regains 5m.

    I don't think there's any more things that need to be resolved for you guys quite yet, though I'd like to double check on your anima levels - especially relevent for the Dragon Blooded, so I know where you're at. I think Dancer's kept her mote spend down, so she may be back to dim, but Rivers and Marrow both just spent motes, so may be higher. Given that I kept times vague before this point, I'm kinda open to letting you pick what level you're at. ;) I'd just like to know before my next post.

  20. - Top - End - #140
    Ettin in the Playground
     
    HalflingWizardGirl

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    Default Re: Exalted 3e - Welcome to Thorns (IC)

    Depths Team
    Rivers, Marrow, Nord, Whisper
    It's closer than you'd like - by the time the strange party reach the final stretch of hallway, the water is lapping at their heels. But they've made an excellent run, and good time - the entire group are through the black jade doors in seconds, with Whisper bringing up the rear. Nord and Rivers slam the portal closed behind her, the group getting one last look at the united Exalted host on the far wall, before the door to that forgotten age is slammed shut for good, with a muffled thwump of pressure behind it soon marking the water's arrival. Strange - in those final moments, Marrow could swear the Sun-Touched in white robes was smiling at him.

    But nothing comes of it. The final moment passes, and the relieved group finally get a moment to catch their breath. Whisper hears a cheer go up amidst the ghosts, as those carrying survivors start to haul their cargo up the spiral stairs towards the top floor. The old man, wolfman and Serpent exchange glances before the ancient automaton... chuckles, a faint hissing sound escaping its mout as it looks to Marrow. "I have not had that much excitement in some time. It seems the world is still... far from boring." Whitebeard blinks at this, before breaking into a hearty guffaw, "You damn well got that right, shiny!" Even the wolf cracks a grin as the trio beckon Marrow to help them shift their own assortment of loot upwards.

    Pink Hair is also on her feet now. She doesn't seem too hindered by her injuries, but her eyes haven't left the black jade door. The other conscious escapees have seemingly been free long enough to forget, but she's all too aware of how close she came to being on the other side of that door. She looks to Rivers, coughing awkwardly. "Thanks... you know. For the help" That's about all she can manage in this state, before turning around and starting her own progress up the stairs, muttering "What's it take to find a set of clothes around here anyway?"

    Heights Team
    Stone Thrown
    The rescue ship makes good time: soon the mighty vessel is chugging merrily away from the isle. Most of the crowd has soon moved to the stern, excited to watch their hated prison's final moments. Amidships, the Marukani who'd fought at Nord's side and a young red headed girl from Great Forks are sharing a small bag of apples and talking about the future. "We've a long way to go once we reach land. But once that's done, I'm sure I can see you at least as far as Mishaka. Maybe even Marita, if there's work." The Delathri gives her new friend a grin. "Why not go further? There's no way Mask will ever threaten Great Forks. The Three beat a Deathlord before, they can do it again!"

    The one solitary figure at the prow is still looking down at the depths of the sea below him, heedless of the surrounding good humour and cheer. Stone Thrown can't shake his instinct that this is wrong. He's still lost in thought as the water begins to ripple before his eyes.

    But then, in the darkened depths of the Inland Ocean, he finds the revelation he sought so desperately.

    Stone Thrown is at once seized with panic as the realization of what he's witnessed sets in. He sprints back across the length of the ship, pushing through the crowd in his haste and almost sending the Markani flying. Face twisted in fear, the young warrior bursts through the door to the ship's bridge, almost wrenching the wheel from a shocked Falling Leaf as he cries aloud. "Hard stern! We need hard astern now, or..."

    But it's too late.

    Combined Team
    The explorers from below emerge from the depths just in time to hear a strange screeching sound. Once, twice, thrice - and as it continues, distant screams rise in chorus behind it. Far above, Dancer and Granny hear it too. Below and above, everyone rushes to the exterior, looking out over the bay.

    The rescue ship is a fair distance out at sea. And it's in pieces. Something has torn into its side, again and again, riddling the hull with holes. What remains is sinking fast - the passengers are desperately leaping from the deck, hoping to find safety in the turbulent waters below. Yet as the assembled witnesses look on, the rending sound begins again - this time a longer, sustained squeal of anguish. Holes beneath the bow grow into a thousand hairline fractures as the mighty vessel splinters before the eyes of those lucky folk still standing within the tower. With a final, echoing krak the ship gives way, and a shower of debris both great and small start to fall into the choppy waters of the bay, crashing down amidst the desperate survivors, who scream as their bodies are riddled with razor sharp fragments of iron.

    Where once there was a ship filled with over a hundred people, now there is nothing but flotsam and bodies. Cold, unmoving bodies.

    "HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

    That sickeningly familiar laugh, twisted by a metallic tone, heralds some great dagger like shape rising slowly upwards, parting the waters beneath the newly sunken ship. It shines by the light of the tower's lanterns, a proud crimson with gold trim outlining its armoured plates. Not one scrap of flesh or chitin remains visible on the creature, the thing looking like some nightmarish crustacean with two blue eyes had risen from the depths. The crest marks the monstrosity as a Kraken - one of the legendary predators of the sea, yet this one is clad in the undulating texture of soulsteel armor, and rises to such a height as to draw even with the Hearthroom's window. To those below, the leviathan is tall enough to eclipse the sun. Its tendrils whip through the choppy sea where once the rescue ship had been, those baleful azure eyes scanning the sea, and the carnage it has wrought.

    "You thought you could run. From my Islebreaker. How... adorable."

    This examination has proven quite enough for the crimson abomination. It starts to swim towards the isle, and as it draws closer, those looking on can get a better view of the tendrils the necrotechs had grafted on to their pet - each as wise as a tree trunk, and thrice as long as its body, their overlapping soulsteel plates sharpened to a cutting edge. There's no mouth upon the behemoth, but once again it calls to the group, voice loud and triumphant with this moment of victory. "This is the end, Chosen! I don't care how powerful you think you are, whatever titles you give yourself. I am Dorian Lacroix, and I am greater than you all. The only place your fates lead from here is straight down into the mouth of the Void."

    The Islebreaker comes to a halt, looming high above the battered tower. The tide crashes hard against the weathered stones, displaced by the sheer bulk of the moving being. It's enough to uproot the tie the Cureva had used to secure their rowboat - the little craft is hefted skywards, dashed to splinters against the side of the tower. Lacroix doesn't even seem to notice. The voice chuckles. "But please, try to fight this. I could use the entertainment."

    As the great beast's final words ring out, a thoom follows them, coming from somewhere high above. A second thereafter a brass cylinder, trailing a shower of sparks clatters to the ground near the group by the dock. Its purpose swiftly becomes clear upon detonation, a tide of cold blue flame rises rapidly from the bomb, almost engulfing the lot of them. Looking up, those assembled can make out the oval balloon and dingy undercarriage of that damnable airship from before, hovering high above the scene like some harbinger of doom. From the ports at its side, there's a flash of light, followed by that thunderous noise. Again and again. And after each, another hastily assembled brazen bomb sails through the air towards the party at the docks.

    High above, Thorn Captain Madrigora grins, calling out to his surviving men. "Keep firing, all hands! We'll bring this tower down around their ears!" The remaining Thornguard cheer, as the ship's crew work quickly to reload their cannons.

    Spoiler
    Show
    No way out but through, my friends. Roll Join Battle. This is the final encounter of this adventure, so don't be afraid to go all out with your motes. It's time to show why they call you Chosen.

    At Short Range
    (11d10)[4][7][8][10][4][4][2][6][8][3][4](60) Commander Dorian Lacroix, piloting the Islebreaker. (Base Initiative 5)

    At Medium Range
    (10d10)[3][10][5][2][3][4][2][7][4][4](44) Vendetta cannon crew
    (10d10)[5][4][2][5][1][1][10][3][3][7](41) Thorn-Captain Madrigora

  21. - Top - End - #141
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    HalfTangible's Avatar

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    Default Re: Exalted 3e - Welcome to Thorns (IC)

    That first crack came to his ears like the echos in a nightmare.

    He fell to his knees as he watched the ship shatter, and its flotsam scatter everywhere. He'd told them to sail, he'd told them to cast off and escape while they could, to get away from this tower where they would be safe...

    Then they'd died. And where the hell had he been?! Running from a flood and eyeing up a pretty girl?! He should've known, this place was too dangerous to leave anyone unguarded. He should have stayed, he should've...

    The dragons were right to reject me.

    And then the islebreaker emerged from the sea, and the airship began firing upon them. They were surrounded, and facing a foe no mortal could have stood against alone.

    ...

    But their enemy made one fatal error.

    Lacroix announced his name. He declared himself inherently superior to the rest of them.

    He shouldn't have done that.

    Nord pulled himself from the dirt as the sounds of explosions echoed in his ears. "Dorian Lacroix." He said, his voice hard, and somehow clear over the explosions and cheering Thornguard. He took a step forward towards the Islebreaker, as if it were any other foe.

    Keeping his status a secret wasn't possible anymore, not when faced with a threat like this. And he wouldn't bother trying; even if he could, he'd strained his ability to hide his essence to the breaking point.

    "You think your name is what gives you power?" He snarled, and suddenly a bright golden glow burst into life from his flesh. "I've never even heard of you. Nor your 'islebreaker'."

    As the glow intensified, the mercenary became a beacon upon the island as bright as the sun. He screamed to the heavens, a rage born of loss and yet further shame upon his name and his blood. Fires rage around him, reaching for the heavens in a mad dance. As his screams reach a fever-pitch and his oath of vengeance reaches Lacroix's ears, so too does a choir of bestial dragons, roaring in a terrifying, discordant harmony.

    A circle with lines radiating from it burst into being upon his forehead, visible even through the glow of the sun. He fell into an old stance, a familiar one, and he felt his blood burn with rage and bloodlust. This thing would pay. Lacroix would beg for reincarnation before this was over. "KNOW THIS, LITTLE MAN: I AM KARAL NORD, FORSAKEN BY CASTE, BY KITH AND BY KIN. AND NO ONE WILL REMEMBER YOU AS ANYTHING BUT A DISGRACE!!!"

    He'd been holding back before, but now?

    Now, he would cut loose.

    Spoiler
    Show
    Spending 21m on:
    -5m Flash Fire Technique
    -8m Awareness Excellency (x2)

    Anima is now ICONIC!

    Roll JB twice, take the higher (any charms must be paid separately for each roll. If I win JB and make a decisive attack on my first turn, I get to add up to Dexterity (3) Threshold sux from the attack roll as dice of damage). +8 dice for both rolls thanks to dual awareness excellencies.

    Plus two dice of stunt on each brings the total dice to 18 each.

    Roll1:
    (18d10)[10][8][7][3][10][9][1][6][1][1][4][6][5][10][1][5][8][7](102) = 11sux

    Roll2:
    (18d10)[8][5][1][3][7][8][5][8][3][6][6][2][2][6][10][9][8][10](107) = 10sux

    Starting initiative: 14i
    Last edited by HalfTangible; 2020-05-06 at 08:15 PM.
    Hate me if you want. But that's your issue to fix, not mine.

    Primal ego vos, estis ex nihilo.

    When Gods Go To War comes out March 8th

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  22. - Top - End - #142
    Firbolg in the Playground
     
    BlueWizardGirl

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    Default Re: Exalted 3e - Welcome to Thorns (IC)

    "Gods and devils..." Rivers breathes in shock, though they know neither party is responsible for this. This is the fruit of hateful men and damnable ghosts... and of their own hubris in thinking that any of the people they 'saved' from the prison might truly be safe in a land as cursed as Thorns.

    "I was hoping to warn you all, but..."


    There's a million potential conclusions for that sentence. It all happened too fast. The necromechanical kraken was readier than they thought. They didn't know the survivors had already pushed off. And so on. All valid points, but Rivers voices none of them. The words won't come, and the words aren't sufficient, at any rate.

    "...too much. It's too much."


    Rivers is numb as Nord declares screaming vengeance and reveals himself as a Solar Anathema, numb even though that revelation totally means they won the Resistance betting pool on the nature of Nord's "divine parentage." Right now, profit is the furthest thing from Rivers' mind. But there's little anger there, either. Nothing to speak of in the way of fiery determination or cold vengeance. No, there's only a silent, sterile acceptance of fate.

    This is where Beloved of the Mother of Rivers dies for Thorns. But that's fine. It's past time for it. And there's no damned way they're running from it now.

    Mechanically, incautiously, they cross the airship's line of fire, stepping up to the few survivors of the lower levels... now the far-too-few survivors of the entire facility. They unfasten their prison-guard's buff jacket, shrugging it off. It would hardly be proof against the Islebreaker's ship-smashing tentacles, and they've still got a chain shirt concealed beneath their shirt, regardless. They drape the coat over the poor pink-haired woman's shoulders.

    "Back inside, all of you,"
    Rivers urges. "Take cover. If any of us survive, you'll have the best odds of it there."

    They then reach into Marrow's treasure haul, claiming the black jade gauntlets from the stash without preamble or apology. They slip their hands inside and feed essence into the artifacts to wake them. They don't dare hope that the armored gloves might have magic enough to let them wrestle the Islebreaker back into the sea, but at least the monstrosity might feel fists of jade.

    They dearly hope that, somewhere in its ineffable mechanisms, it is capable of feeling pain.

    Spoiler: OOC
    Show
    You can ready a weapon as part of a Join Battle action, right? ^^; I can edit out going for the gauntlets if need be.

    Regardless, Join Battle + Stunt:
    (7d10)[4][1][3][3][9][2][10](32)
    Last edited by Ascension; 2020-05-06 at 09:04 PM.
    Current Games:
    Spoiler
    Show
    GMing The Lotus Blossoms! [Exalted 3E] (OOC)
    Playing Waldaharjaz in The Convergence of Sky [Exalted 3E]
    Playing Rivers in Welcome to Thorns [Exalted 3E]

  23. - Top - End - #143
    Barbarian in the Playground
     
    MonkGirl

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    Default Re: Exalted 3e - Welcome to Thorns (IC)

    The Dancer leans out the window and looks below. The Ship, the ship with all the refugees...all those supplies, the intelligence she'd sent down...and now there was no escape from this island save through that horror below...unless...

    "Madame, see if you can hit that monster below with the weapon, I'll keep the pressure off you."

    The Dancer steps up to the window ledge, the sea-wind blowing her crimson robes about her slight frame, Pyrefly circling her worriedly. She takes the ribbon out of her hair, letting the long black locks flow freely, and ties the ribbon to her wrist and sword-hilt. Her arms so secured, she allows a fresh surge of essence to suffuse her form, and locks her gaze on the airship. Her body suffuses with flame, her limbs loosen, she is dressed to kill and has found her dance-partner. The curtain is up, the orchestra prepped. Time to dance.

    Spoiler: OOC
    Show
    Dancer is rolling Join Battle, also supplemented by Flash Fire Technique.

    (12d10)[10][9][5][9][4][7][8][1][9][4][4][9](79)+3
    And Second Roll:
    (12d10)[2][3][4][7][9][3][9][4][1][3][9][2](56)+3

    Edit: As Dancer won JB, she is reflexively activating Fire Dragon Form.
    Last edited by Sticks; 2020-05-06 at 09:37 PM.
    Sorry for making things complicated!
    -Me

  24. - Top - End - #144
    Ettin in the Playground
     
    Eurus's Avatar

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    Default Re: Exalted 3e - Welcome to Thorns (IC)

    In the tower, an old woman finishes her shanty and segues into a tune she only half-remembers. It's swelling and bombastic, inappropriate for the gravity of the situation yet at the same time all too fitting. Not the kind of song she prefers, to be honest, but it's the way this thing is built to operate, and she's not gifted enough of a musician to wrestle it into working against its nature. She doesn't turn her head to look outside, although she can piece together what's happening well enough. The ghost's voice echoes far, and the crash of splintering wood in the distance is all too clear for there to be any doubt. She could rage, or cry. But she's old and withered now, and she wrung out all of her tears a long time ago.

    Her fingers are stiff with age, even with a touch of essence lightening them, and her playing is... adequate, at best. The organ does most of the work for her -- under all the gilded uselessness, it actually is an impressive instrument. It smooths out her stutters and blends her notes into harmony, almost like it knows her intentions.

    When everything's broken and burning and all messed up, when your personal tragedy is over, when the survivors pick themselves up off the floor, there's work to be done. Life goes on, and someone needs to sweep up the floors and make sure there's food in the morning. All this... posturing is just pointless machismo and wasted energy. No, she can't quite bring herself to scream judgments at the monsters anymore.

    If anyone had been close enough to hear, though, they might have heard her snort and shake her head. "If you're so great, how come you're dead, y'idiot."

    Spoiler: OOC
    Show
    Wits 5 + Awareness 1 + Wits Excellency 5 + Dexterity Excellency 5 + Stunt 2 + 1 Willpower
    10 motes spent from Personal

    (18d10)[4][9][10][5][8][5][10][10][9][9][4][3][8][3][9][2][2][7](117) +4
    EDIT: I believe that's 17

    6/16 Personal
    34/38 Peripheral
    3/5 Willpower
    Last edited by Eurus; 2020-05-06 at 10:07 PM.
    Avatar by araveugnitsuga.

  25. - Top - End - #145
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    pfm1995's Avatar

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    Default Re: Exalted 3e - Welcome to Thorns (IC)

    Marrow's eyes widened in shock and grief, his hands tightening, leaning on their conveyance as the devastation in front of them unfolded. All those... hundreds of men and women, some of them the best he'd ever known, gone in an instant. Others still alive, screaming, dying in front of him.

    His whole body shuddered. They'd all known this was a possibility, of course - joked about it, told themselves they were ready for it, and how farcical all that seemed now that it was happening. They'd all been so proud to be here - men and women he'd shared meals with, beds with, long nights with nothing but each other and past terrors for company. Now they were dying and there was nothing he could do but join them.

    It was like the world was being leeched of color. His heart beat still, but what did that matter? It would stop soon, and the only question was how to spend those final beats. Deeper even than his heart, that thing that marked him as favored by the Dragons uncoiled and howled.

    There was time enough for just a single tear before his mind shut down and all that was left was patient rage. His heart beat like a drum. War, war, went the cry, hands and teeth red with the blood of those that'd done this even if it meant his own staining the ground. Such a thicket the sound made, even the screams of his dying men could barely penetrate. Deliberately, he turned away from the blasphemous construct and its madcap controller to look up at the airship bombing them. The fires set his hair to whipping furiously, but he hardly noticed - he stood still, frozen to the beach, as his eyes flickered back and forth. Estimating speed, crew size, armaments. Calculating angles.

    Marrow pulled Quiet up from where it was slung and finally turned to the prisoners. "You heard them. Run, now." His voice was feverish, each word burning its way out of him.

    Firewand in hand, he made ready to sell his life as best he could.

    Spoiler: Rolls
    Show
    Join Battle! Full Awareness excellency here (5m), and I *think* this counts as an Ambush on Lacroix's part so his specialty should apply. Marrow is now at Burning anima, for the record.

    (14d10)[5][10][6][4][2][8][5][4][9][7][6][9][10][4](89)
    Last edited by pfm1995; 2020-05-08 at 07:06 PM.

  26. - Top - End - #146
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    Default Re: Exalted 3e - Welcome to Thorns (IC)

    It does not seem likely she'll need to be a horse again, so Whisper returns to her true body once they've escaped the flooding.

    But the onrushing water proves not to be the true threat, here. The little Lunar scowls as Lacroix's laugh booms across the water. Him again. She's getting very tired of this old ghost. So this is what he wanted the souls in the cage for. If she'd managed to smash it faster, maybe... But there's no use getting caught up in maybes and might-have-beens. Now is the time for what-will-bes.

    Twice now Dorian Lacroix has clashed with her. Twice overreached, and found himself stumbling. Third time pays for all.

    Spoiler: OOC
    Show
    Spending 3m on Unwavering Predator's Eye and... heck, let's say a full 10m on the Perception Excellency. If there's ever a time to go all-out, it's now.
    (21d10)[4][5][9][6][7][1][7][3][9][5][10][8][10][2][7][6][10][4][4][9][1](127)
    Avatar by GryffonDurime. Thanks!

  27. - Top - End - #147
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    Default Re: Exalted 3e - Welcome to Thorns (IC)

    Silver light leaks out from Whisper's flesh as she sheds her skin for a crocodile's once more, though the blazing gold of Karal Nord's anima dwarfs hers as much as the Islebreaker dwarfs her newly-scaled body. She slips into the water, keeping her distance from the soulsteel-armored beast as she begins to circle around. With any luck, the water will offer her shelter from the airship's bombardment.

    Spoiler: OOC
    Show
    Flurrying a shapeshift action with a shape sorcery action; the spell being cast is Death of Obsidian Butterflies.
    Int+Occult(+specialty+stunt): (10d10)[9][2][4][6][9][2][5][9][9][1](56)

    Just shapeshifting, since sorcery can't be flurried.

    Also moving; the intent here is to go mostly sideways from the island, staying at medium range from the Islebreaker but putting some distance between her and the rest of the PCs.
    Last edited by The_Snark; 2020-05-10 at 05:00 PM.
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  28. - Top - End - #148
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    Default Re: Exalted 3e - Welcome to Thorns (IC)

    The keys vibrate under Granny's fingers from both the booming sound of the organ and the essence pulsing through the device. It almost feels like a purr. Well, if this thing is ready to pounce, she's more than happy to let it off the leash. The music suddenly breaks into a long, powerful chord, and the first bolt is unleashed from the sky, all the way down to where the huge armored monster lurks in the waves. She reflects, a moment too late, that if that Solar is too close he might get unpleasantly dazzled... but oh well, too late to worry.

    Spoiler: OOC
    Show
    That resonance boost is a real lifesaver for Granny, haha. Wits (5) + Lore (3) + Stunt (2) + Excellency (5)
    (15d10)[2][8][10][1][3][7][7][1][3][5][6][10][3][6][10](82)

    Damage roll is Initiative (17)
    (17d10)[9][1][1][7][2][2][7][6][8][3][3][7][4][8][4][10][10](92)

    6/16 Personal
    34/38 Peripheral
    3/5 Willpower
    Avatar by araveugnitsuga.

  29. - Top - End - #149
    Ettin in the Playground
     
    HalflingWizardGirl

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    Default Re: Exalted 3e - Welcome to Thorns (IC)

    Even in the face of death, the Exalted stand unbowed. Six defiant souls stand ready to face Lacroix, as the dancing hues and iconography rise above the scene. Within his leviathan, Dorian Lacroix watches smugly as his foes ready themselves for their end... until the booming cry of a certian Lookshyan catches him by surprise.

    The golden dragons of Nord's anima rise up, circling the tower. Within the Hearthroom, Granny can see the murk of the pool start to lighten. Outside, the encircling mists that have enveloped the isle are thinner now. The light of the Daystar once ruled over this isle. And no matter how much Mask's forces have dragged its essence flows towards those of the Underworld, with one of the Solar Exalted here revealed, Nord's essence has begun to pull the manse away from the Underworld.

    "Another Sun-Chosen? Or are you..." Lacroix's puzzlement keeps him quite unaware of the cloud brewing above him. With a final chord, ringing out across the bay, a great lance of silver lightning falls upon the monsterous kraken. It strikes the core, soulsteel plates sparking and smoking, red paint beginning to peel away to reveal the harsh ashen black below.

    Lacroix cries out at the blow, evidently hurt. As strong as this weapon might be, the artifice of the Stormhammer can hurt it apparently. It takes the ghost a second to respond. But when he does, the commander is as contemptuous as ever. "Nova's broken toy, and the light of the faded Sun? That's your best hope?"

    The tendrils flex, undamaged by this assault. The fight is on, it seems. "Two of Thorns' finest deathknights designed the Islebreaker. You're no match for their craft."

    Spoiler: OOC
    Show
    8 damage rolled, capped at 7 due to Legendary Size. The Islebreaker, however, is still at -0.

    Initiative Count
    19: Whisper
    14: Nord
    13 (10): Islebreaker + Lacroix
    11: Dancer
    10: Marrow
    6: Rivers, Vendetta Cannons, Thorn Captain Madrigora
    3: Granny

  30. - Top - End - #150
    Titan in the Playground
     
    HalfTangible's Avatar

    Join Date
    Aug 2010
    Location
    The Primus Imperium
    Gender
    Male

    Default Re: Exalted 3e - Welcome to Thorns (IC)

    [The Dawn Breaks]

    No words; just action.

    Nord shifted from his ready stance into a quick strike, stepping forward with an iron resolve. He struck his blades forward, crossing the strikes right over a gap in the creature's armor. It was an old movement, one he was familiar with. But there was one key difference this time: he was still at a distance from his foe. Too great for the attack to hit normally. Of course, he was Solar Anathema; the normal rules didn't apply.

    His anima flared once more, and the roars of dragons echoed around the island. A colorless light struck out from his swords, and the terrain was ripped apart as a wave of force sliced towards the foe.

    With any luck, that would slice one of the massive creature's limbs off. And despite the ghost's bluster Nord had no doubt this could be done.

    That was the fun thing about sophisticated artifice like the Islebreaker or Gunzosha armor, and why it was so rare; the more sophisticated a machine, the easier it is to break. After all if this Islebreaker were as invincible as it appeared, why give it armor?

    Spoiler
    Show
    Spending 5m 2i. Using Sandstorm Wind Attack to perform a decisive attack at short range. This attack ignores hardness and does damage to the surrounding scenery.

    Additionally, since I used Flash Fire Technique, won initiative and made a decisive attack, threshold sux on this attack add damage dice (up to Dexterity; in my case, 3).

    Decisive Attack!

    Attack (Melee 5, Dexterity 3, Specialty 1, Stunt 2)
    Spoiler
    Show
    (11d10)[10][6][7][8][3][8][9][1][2][2][6](62) = 6sux


    Damage:
    Spoiler
    Show
    (12d10)[1][10][1][10][1][8][3][7][3][4][8][10](66) = 6sux

    Thresholdsux damage:
    Spoiler
    Show
    (3d10)[2][7][7](16) = 0/1/2 sux
    Last edited by HalfTangible; 2020-05-11 at 10:33 AM.
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