[A Shattered Visage] Act 1: Slaves, Obey Your Masters

Axelgear

Axelgear

General Wontwit
(Dust and Wind group)


Mansur's calculations were accurate, if only barely so. The caravan arrives mere minutes before dawn, avoiding the harsh rays of the rising sun. By the time the loaded carts make their way through the winding tunnels and the layers of customs, the sun is high in the sky. Discussions go back and forth between Mansur and the assessors over the cost of the licensing fees, while the caravaneers are forced to sit and wait in the dark tunnels... Wait until something interesting happens...


It doesn't take long.


The explosions of flamepieces rumble through the tunnels, shortly before the screaming starts. A stampede of people comes charging up the ramp, shrieking in panic. Not far behind them are an armed band, some clad in blue robes and some barely dressed at all, some wielding fine blades and flamepieces and others improvised tools. They clash with the few mercenaries acting as guards in customs, one breaking from the crowd to pounce on the assessor. A swarm forms, tearing the unfortunate bureaucrat limb from limb.


(Polish and Fire group)


Blasts of firedust have set the bazaar aflame. The glowstones have a hard time cutting through the spreading smoke, turning it into a chaotic battleground. Merchants run for their lives as indiscriminate rebels hunt them down. Freed from coffles, many simply flee. Others, realizing that the mercenaries are not so likely to be discriminating when they come to suppress the riot, vent their anger on anything that remotely resembles their former owners.
 
Ezria watched them set upon the man. Even if she wanted to save him, there'd be little to do: her repeaters would char the whole crowd, victim and all. She pressed herself to a wall, letting the stampede press by. Sol's bollocks, everywhere she went it was the same: strife, discord, war. The shapes of things changed, never the substance. A foul taste filled her mouth as she broke from the caravan and pressed forward. She'd ignore as much of the fighting as she could, and anyone who crossed her path with an evil heart would be burned to ash. The scar on her face twisted as she scowled. Time to wade into the chaos.
 
There was a saying from the old country that people found most appropriate in this sort of situation. It roughly translated as this: Oh smeg !


She had absolutly no idea what on creation was going on, only that people were fighting each other, and they weren't being discriminate about it. She kept her ground, staying close to the members of her caravan, and had her fans in hand, ready for anyone who got a little too close to her.
 
One of the mercenary guards running after the slaves slams against Ruin's extended arm, tumbling in the air before slamming hard on the ground.


Ruin's sword appears in his hand, plunges down and rises back soaked in blood.


He looks around, then at Praan and Seven.


"I think I'll wait for the mercenaries here. You guys got plans?"


Ah! Freeing slaves! Nothing is more Exalted-y.
 
7 looks at Ruin, "Well since they've decided to murder all the merchants, and considering how I'm dressed, I should change." 7 steps into the far back of the stall behind a wall, and returns moments later, breastplate on and Tomorrow in hand.


"I'm no so sure staying is the best idea, had we been the ones to free them, the slaves would be grateful and less likely to try to kill us; but because they decided to break themselves out I somewhat doubt they'll immediately decide to take to your instruction and invade Varangia for me." She says, almost smirking at Ruin. "Waiting for the mercenaries sounds good, seems I'll need them after all."
 
Ruin nods with a half smile to 7, then runs into the fray.


"It's time to take things in my hands."


His body slams against and into a squad of guards.


Blades whirl, and as the guards fall around Ruin, opening around him in a crimson blossom, a pyre of golden fire emerges.


Terrible and merciless, the Choosen stares at the other guards charging ahead.


"STAND BACK, OR DIE!"


Burning 10 motes of peripheral on Melee II to kill the guards swiftly, erupt into essence flare and activate Dawn Anima.


They will need to roll Valor.
 
Praan Cloudbinder


Praan stares in slack-jawed horror as Ruin not only falls upon the guards—men doing their job to defend the people of the market!—but exposes his nature as one of the Chosen to the entire marketplace. Almost all of his lower instincts are demanding he flee, to run from this confrontation and its inevitable bad end, but unfortunately for him he knows all too well what one of his kind is capable of. And just what sort of damage they could do if left unchecked.


"Ruin," Praan steps through the crowd, taking the hilt of Skylight into his hand, "you need to stop right now. You are throwing your weight behind a bloody revolt, and murdering men whose only crime is trying to protect the innocent from the very people you think need to be emancipated. They will turn this city into a bloodbath if they are freed on these terms, and they won't win either what they or you want in the end."
 
Rahim Laenir


"Oh well, this journey was getting boring."


With that he took his meager package, darted towards a deserted alleyway, and rose from the ground, seemingly walking on the walls, until he reached an appreciable vantage point. From here, he observed the situation further...

Spending 3 personal motes to activate my Belt.


Perception+Awareness (5d10.hits(7)=4) 5 successes


Can I see Ruin's anima from here?
 
(Ruin's anima is at the 10 mote level, which means he is wrapped in golden sunfire. The light's bright enough to cut through the smoke. However, given everything is on fire, he might not be immediately obvious. One more mote, though, and anyone could spot him clear as day, even amidst the flames.


As it stands, though, you rolled more than enough successes to notice him, so, yes, you see his anima.)
 
Fire and blowing smoke and the sound of screams, turning the bazaar into a scene from Hell.


Bone Shadow sees one of the mob about to fire a flame piece at a merchant, and bolts forward, slamming the pole of her spade across the woman’s back and sending her to the ground.


A man comes at her with blood in his eyes, and she drops the spade to grapple with him, grabbing his arm and twisting it over her head, throwing him to the earth with a heavy thud. Then she snatches up her spade and runs on.


She ducks under a wildly thrown punch, and counters with a quick staff blow, then a second -- and suddenly she sees a nightmare come to life, a group of children and adults, backed against a wall, frightened. Another man stands facing them, face red with bloodlust, holding a sword already dripping with blood. He laughs, and advances towards them, clearly enjoying the fear in their eyes.


“Peace be with you,†Bone Shadow intones as catches up to the man, just as he’s about to take a slash at a woman who crouches in front of her son, pale eyes wide and unbelieving. Bracing herself, she whips her spade between his legs to trip him and send him sprawling, then knocks him out cold with a thump of the butt end.


“…and peace I give to you.â€
 
Rahim Laenir


Somebody doesn't care about the Wyld Hunt, it seems, the Twilight mused sardonically.

Does my roll enable me to locate something else?
 
Against the fury of the Rising Sun, few things can stand or look upon it. Blood falls to the cobblestone streets and pools with that already spilled, leaking from the necks of mercenary guards, merchants, and those simply not fast enough to get away. Ruin's display causes more than just guards to flee him, those few brave enough to remain not daring approach. One of the Forsaken walks in Gem, and they are terrified.


Slaves by the dozen rush towards the richer parts of the market, where the Despot's personal slaves and holdings are kept. Some go to free their fellows, and others to exact revenge on the bureaucrats, and others still to gut those who would support the tyrant's enterprises.


"You!" One woman shouts, holding in her hand a weighty piece of mangled iron. Her eyes are set on 7. "You're one of the Despot's merchant-whores! I heard you earlier, you said he wears a ring you made!" She snarls, before hastily charging with her makeshift club.

(She doesn't actually have enough dice in her attack to beat your Dodge DV.)


Meanwhile, back at the entrance to the market, the melee has spread into the customs area. Bone Shadow confirms every rumor about priests of Saturn, and it does not take long for the attentions of the horde to turn to her. The few escapees who take the time to look back nod in hurried thanks to her, before racing off as fast as their legs can carry them.


One of the blue-robed warriors takes notice. Without apparent regard for his comrades, he draws a flamepiece, takes aim at Bone Shadow, and is promptly engulfed in flames as the gun, apparently overloaded with firedust, explodes in his hand. He runs through the tunnels, before collapsing moments later. Apparently, Saturn takes care of her own.


It is clear that her work is not done, however. There are likely many more trapped inside the marketplace, and a thick mob stands between her and them.





(Attack by one of the blue-robed warriors botched. Being an extra, that results in death for him.)


She isn't alone in this. Ezria's rush to fight isn't long delayed. A wall of bodies meets her, as slaves try to rush up the ramp to take the assessors and other officials waiting in customs. They aren't picky about their targets. Mansur takes notice of this, and breaks into a run back towards the caravan, leading an angry mob of slaves behind him.





(Ezria, same story for the moment as with 7; your DV is too high for any of the regular slaves to hit you. Meanwhile, Farah has a fairly large group coming towards her...)




High above the fray, Rahim has a bird's eye view. His keen senses pick out the streams of slaves heading towards the rich quarter. The attackers in blue robes appear to be instigators, and the most well-armed, frequently firing off firewands to keep the crowds excited and agitated.
 
Rahim Laenir


"Interesting, so those slaves are probably tools - a mere distraction for those blue guys..." Was it the latest episode in the tumultuous succession negociations regarding the leadership of Gem?


He was capable of defending himself, but he didn't care to jump into the fray. He much preferred his vantage point...


Leaping from building to building like a cat - well, a cat with a levitation belt - he made his way towards the yet timid but distinctive shine of an active anima...

How long to get there?
 
(Not long. We're not on combat time, and you're by a fairly open part of the market, so, with your belt, you're a few second's worth of running away going from stall to stall.)
 
Bone Shadow points at the still-smoldering corpse of the man who attempted to shoot her.


“O Children of Earth, it is not for you or for me to choose the hour of others’ deaths! Only the Maiden of Endings decides when life shall end and all chains shall fall away.â€


Under the hood, it is impossible to know whether she is angry, or sorrowful, or glad.


“Do not seek vengeance on those who have wronged you. Seek peace or seek freedom. Do not tempt the Maiden’s wrath any further!â€


So saying, Shadow whirls her spade as she advances toward the market and the people trapped inside, sweeping rioters out of the way to the left and the right of her. If she notices the obvious anima banner, she gives no sign of it; she has other things to think about.
 
Ruin moves carefully forward, measuring the reaction of the guards in front of him.


As he moves his weight slightly ahead, they move theirs slightly back.


With his torso pushing forward, he stamps his foot on the ground, prompting all the guards to take a step back.


"BOOH."

effective[/i] thing to do, but it's the fun one.

^_^
 
Praan Cloudbinder


Praan scowls, clutching tightly to Skylight. "Ruin!" he cries. "You are not building anything! You are contributing to death and madness! You must stop! This chaos must stop!"


Skylight springs to life with a low thrummm. It's a candle compared to the Dawn's massive display, but it lights it surroundings nonetheless with gold and silver.


"... Or be stopped."
 
The path ahead is a solid wall of brawling rebels and mercenaries. With a muttered "feh," Ezria turns to one of the merchant lifts that line the walls: simple pulley systems that raise and lower goods from ground level. She grabs a dropped knife off the ground, takes hold of the rope, and slashes a line: the sudden force throws her up, toward the relative safety of the rooftops.


Dexterity + Athletics roll to reach the rooftops. Five successes.


Ezria lands neatly on the rooftops, the sandbag ballast plunging below her to crush some slave's skull. She stood atop the building, watching the chaos unfold. Uprising. Probably would be crushed underfoot soon enough. Except--


--Malfeas' screams, is that another Solar down there? In full regalia, too, swinging his fists like an idiot. He could bring unholy wrath down on them all flaring like that! No use. She pressed on out of the warzone, avoiding attention. Her plan to hit up the speakeasies around this district is a wash. Time to find this infamous Day Market and try her luck there.
 
7 easily dodges the clumsy swing, brandishing Tomorrow "I don't want to kill you, but if you don't leave I will." Keeping one eye on the slave that attacked her, she asks Praan "What in the hell just happened?" then yells toward Ruin "What is wrong with you!? Have you completely lost your mind?!"


Rolling Manipulation + Presence to make the slave flee Boom goes the dynamite


Looking back to Praan "We need to stop this and we need to do it fast."
 
The situation just kept becoming more chaotic by the second. On one side, slaves led by these strange blue clothed ringleaders rioting and killing anyone they could get their hands on. On the other, the local security forces and panicked civilians and merchants. At this time, no side was realy on wehat she would consider the side of rightousness. The joys of moraly ambiguous conflicts, she thought.


Even more problematic was who had just joined the fight: a fellow solar like herself, anima blazing. Was the guy a complete idiot ?! Not only was he helping a side slaughter civilians, he had just now effectivly given the wyld hunt a very good reason to come knocking soon. Her stay here was going to be very short it seemed.


At least the priestess of Saturn was more of a beacon of relative sanity here. She seemed more concerned with trying to save the civilians from the rampaging mob.


As tempted as she was to help a fellow cleric, she had more immediate concerns. A lot of them, coming her way. This could turn very ugly unless she did something.


Her descision made, she walked forwards a little bit, before grabbing a throwing away the desert robe she was wearing. This revealed her complete appearance for all to see. She was wearing a light multicoloured dress of fine crafting and some small jewlerey that only enhanced her beauty. That must have attracted everyone's attention. With a loud voice just as much addressed to all present than the crowd coming her way she spoke with the sun's authority:


"We are not from here and have no quarrel with you. Leave and take advantage of the freedom you have now acquired before more soldiers arrive. No more bloods needs to be shed today."


At the same time, Farah had her fans in hands ready to stricke.


using 1st presence excellency: 2 personal motes:


charisma + presence: Roll(12d10)+0: 9,8,4,2,7,2,7,9,3,4,5,8)
 
Rahim Laenir


From his position, Rahim had a good vantage point on the brute dangling his anima in front of everyone like his naughty parts.


Then...


Wait, is the thin dandy who's facing him holding a fucking Essence daiklave?


The day was golden indeed... if you were optimistic.


Aside from that, the antics of the woman jumping on the rooves seemed almost quaint (but then, he was doing the same).


He waited, with baited breath, the answer of the shining warrior to this challenge...
 
The casual threat of 7 causes the slave to think twice. That hammer is scary... She drops the large hunk of iron, and turns to run, following others in an attempt to escape quickly from the scene.


Meanwhile, back near the wagon, the slaves decide it is time to take advantage of the freedom Fara mentions. They drop their weapons and run, leaving behind only the warriors in blue robes. They clearly have no desire to leave...

(The two men raise their guns to fire at Farah, though they both miss.)


The flamepieces flash fiery, but neither shot strikes the Exalted woman, though the caravan behind her is not so lucky. Soon the air is filled with the heady scent of soothing spices and creams.
 
His antics are obviously not working, so Ruin decides to escalate.


Four knives leave his hand and lodge themselves on the sand between the feet of as many guard.


"Leave NOW or fight and die!"
 
Well, the slaves were dispersing, that was the good news. On the other hand, the men dressed in blue weren't. Something told her they were the source of these troubles. What tipped her off was the fact that they were aiming their firewands her way.


Timed slowed down as the fireballs raced her way. She raced forwards and first jumped to the left, avoiding the first burst, then to the right. If she couldn't do this the peaceful way, then the brutal way would have to do.


join battle roll: Roll(4d10)+0: 4,5,2,4,+0 0 sux
 
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