Axelgear
General Wontwit
Rain poured into the streets of the Black City. It was a summer storm, dancing down onto the awnings of buildings and roaring into the streets with a strange eagerness. The sky was dark and the buildings were lit only by the little bit of sunlight that made it through the clouds and the gentle orange light of hung lanterns.
Thunder.
The sky itself roared with their battle.
"I WILL kill you!" Hatta cried out, as if Wan-Li needed reminding. Li had been found in the room of Hatta's sister, his hand on the blade in her stomach. He was innocent, framed, but he had fled out of fear and secured his guilt in Hatta's mind. There was no turning back now. One of them would be ending his life tonight.
The Chiaroscuran man, with olive, sun-kissed skin and long, dark hair was soaked through to the skin, looking down the streets for the slender man who he hunted. His dark eyes were locked in anger, fury burning within them, darting from side to side in search of the frightened prey who hid behind one of the columns lining a small shop.
He saw him. His blade went out, breaking stone and coming within inches of Li's neck.
"Don't do this!" Li begged, imploring the other man as he had at all other times they had met before. Li was a thin man, skin pale, head shaved. He was not an Immaculate Monk, but his orange clothing and bald scalp could certainly convince someone he was. He did not defend himself, merely dodging and avoiding every blow with the careful precision of any man fighting for his life.
His plea went unanswered. The two dashed through the alleyways and streets, splashing mud wherever they went. Li hurled himself down an avenue, hoping to find his escape up a series of overhangs, bounding up a display stand for wares, onto the cloth and across the street onto a roof. Hatta followed. The fugitive let his weight carry him forward, just running and climbing, getting as high as he could and as far away from Hatta was as possible. Soon, he could run no further, as his feet found purchase on the watch tower by the southern gate, the highest building in the city. He had nowhere to go from here.
"Please! Do not do this!" Li cried, tears forming on the edge of his face, but one could not see them amongst the rain. He ducked, the blade singing through the air as the burning, passionate rage of the desert hunter propelled it over his head. "Never!" Hatta replied, waving his weapon in a futile effort to strike the slender target. "I shall never stop hunting you!" His words were spat from a raging fire in his stomach, unceasing, unreasoning anger seething behind his eyes. There was no turning back. "I have hunted you across Creation! I will hunt you beyond it if I must! You! Will! Die!" Hatta roared impotently as every strike landed on unresisting air or easily shattered roof tiles but never the sad creature he faced.
"Very well..." The sad, quiet voice was now definite. There was no resisting what came next. Hatta was infinitely surprised as young, lithe man he had chased for months and who had never displayed anything but apparent cowardice struck back after he ducked an assault. A single sharp blow reached the other man's nose and cracked the cartilage with the ease of ripping paper. Open palms slapped his ears before he could recover, making him lose his balance. A single sweep of his legs and the Southerner was off his feet and falling, landing squarely on a rising knee. He collapsed, off the limb, and spat blood, his sword falling off the edge of the building.
In a moment of stunned surprise and blinding pain, Hatta turned his head, glancing up slowly at the young man standing over him and saw the sad expression had not changed despite his apparent victory. Hatta's eyes expressed the pain he felt, the ineffectual fury, the questioning wonder at his defeat... It did not last long enough for his incredulity to turn into the realization that the person he had chased for months could have, so effortlessly, ended him at any time he wished. It was halted by the roof tiles, which he had been slashing, beginning to slip from under him. As he fell, he grabbed Li's leg out of a frantic attempt to support himself, only to pull the other man with him.
They were falling. They were both doomed. Hatta's face pulled wide into a wicked smile. He was going to die, most certainly, but his ghost could rest easy, for his sister was avenged. That was what he thought, looking up at the other man with a horrific malice in his intention-filled glance. He had let go and, by now, they fell alongside each other, his tight grip relinquished as he enjoyed his final moment of happiness. If he was going down, he would take Li with him.
Li watched him. He saw the malice, the hateful intention, and his face bore sadness, but no fear. His own demise apparently looming ahead did not grant Hatta the satisfaction of seeing his opponent frightened. Li merely shook his head, appearing sorrowful, before suddenly dropping behind as if snagged on a hook. As Hatta spun onto his back to look, his last image was of Li's anima flaring into full view and the white swirls of one of the Chosen of the Dragon of Air became apparent.
Hatta's last thought in Creation was a realization as sudden as its immediate loss was: That the tears he had seen Li shedding had been not for himself out of pity or fear.
They were for him.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Thunder.
The sky itself roared with their battle.
"I WILL kill you!" Hatta cried out, as if Wan-Li needed reminding. Li had been found in the room of Hatta's sister, his hand on the blade in her stomach. He was innocent, framed, but he had fled out of fear and secured his guilt in Hatta's mind. There was no turning back now. One of them would be ending his life tonight.
The Chiaroscuran man, with olive, sun-kissed skin and long, dark hair was soaked through to the skin, looking down the streets for the slender man who he hunted. His dark eyes were locked in anger, fury burning within them, darting from side to side in search of the frightened prey who hid behind one of the columns lining a small shop.
He saw him. His blade went out, breaking stone and coming within inches of Li's neck.
"Don't do this!" Li begged, imploring the other man as he had at all other times they had met before. Li was a thin man, skin pale, head shaved. He was not an Immaculate Monk, but his orange clothing and bald scalp could certainly convince someone he was. He did not defend himself, merely dodging and avoiding every blow with the careful precision of any man fighting for his life.
His plea went unanswered. The two dashed through the alleyways and streets, splashing mud wherever they went. Li hurled himself down an avenue, hoping to find his escape up a series of overhangs, bounding up a display stand for wares, onto the cloth and across the street onto a roof. Hatta followed. The fugitive let his weight carry him forward, just running and climbing, getting as high as he could and as far away from Hatta was as possible. Soon, he could run no further, as his feet found purchase on the watch tower by the southern gate, the highest building in the city. He had nowhere to go from here.
"Please! Do not do this!" Li cried, tears forming on the edge of his face, but one could not see them amongst the rain. He ducked, the blade singing through the air as the burning, passionate rage of the desert hunter propelled it over his head. "Never!" Hatta replied, waving his weapon in a futile effort to strike the slender target. "I shall never stop hunting you!" His words were spat from a raging fire in his stomach, unceasing, unreasoning anger seething behind his eyes. There was no turning back. "I have hunted you across Creation! I will hunt you beyond it if I must! You! Will! Die!" Hatta roared impotently as every strike landed on unresisting air or easily shattered roof tiles but never the sad creature he faced.
"Very well..." The sad, quiet voice was now definite. There was no resisting what came next. Hatta was infinitely surprised as young, lithe man he had chased for months and who had never displayed anything but apparent cowardice struck back after he ducked an assault. A single sharp blow reached the other man's nose and cracked the cartilage with the ease of ripping paper. Open palms slapped his ears before he could recover, making him lose his balance. A single sweep of his legs and the Southerner was off his feet and falling, landing squarely on a rising knee. He collapsed, off the limb, and spat blood, his sword falling off the edge of the building.
In a moment of stunned surprise and blinding pain, Hatta turned his head, glancing up slowly at the young man standing over him and saw the sad expression had not changed despite his apparent victory. Hatta's eyes expressed the pain he felt, the ineffectual fury, the questioning wonder at his defeat... It did not last long enough for his incredulity to turn into the realization that the person he had chased for months could have, so effortlessly, ended him at any time he wished. It was halted by the roof tiles, which he had been slashing, beginning to slip from under him. As he fell, he grabbed Li's leg out of a frantic attempt to support himself, only to pull the other man with him.
They were falling. They were both doomed. Hatta's face pulled wide into a wicked smile. He was going to die, most certainly, but his ghost could rest easy, for his sister was avenged. That was what he thought, looking up at the other man with a horrific malice in his intention-filled glance. He had let go and, by now, they fell alongside each other, his tight grip relinquished as he enjoyed his final moment of happiness. If he was going down, he would take Li with him.
Li watched him. He saw the malice, the hateful intention, and his face bore sadness, but no fear. His own demise apparently looming ahead did not grant Hatta the satisfaction of seeing his opponent frightened. Li merely shook his head, appearing sorrowful, before suddenly dropping behind as if snagged on a hook. As Hatta spun onto his back to look, his last image was of Li's anima flaring into full view and the white swirls of one of the Chosen of the Dragon of Air became apparent.
Hatta's last thought in Creation was a realization as sudden as its immediate loss was: That the tears he had seen Li shedding had been not for himself out of pity or fear.
They were for him.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I am mulling over a concept for a game and it's been in my head half-formed for a while now, but it has since burst into clarity.
Scroll of the Monk is one of my favourite books. Not for the martial arts charms, as cool as those are, but for the fluff involved. Martial Arts and epic combat are the foundation stone of so many of the movies/animes/cartoons/mangas/comics/books/whatevers that make up the inspiration for Exalted. Acrobatic heroes who nimbly backflip over opponent's blades, smiling courtesans who slash a man's throat with an airy giggle, swordsmen who fence with narrowed eyes and hardened faces; all these and more make up this amazing iconography.
So I asked myself: "What would make an Exalted game this epic?"
The answer, of course, was a focus on Martial Arts and descriptive stunts.
As such, I am hosting a rather unusual recruitment for a somewhat unusual game. Here's the skinny:
This will be a game of Exalted where I will be choosing players based on a description they will write as a part of their application. In it, they will write a brief story, like the one I posted above, that is epic in nature. In this story, they will emphasize just how good they are at making a character's battles, hardships or what have you become epic.
This story need not be for the character they have created but there will be bonus points given if it is, with more given the more absolutely, mind-blowingly awesome it is. The story itself is, however, the basis for your entrance to this game and it's probably better if it's about your character.
The game itself is most likely going to be low in power. You will either be God-Blooded or Terrestrial Exalts, most likely the former, and the game will focus heavily on Martial Arts. Once I get enough interest for this basic concept (A low-power Martial Arts heavy game of Exalted with a focus on epic stunts), I will start giving you more details on what kind of story you will be enjoying.
However, to give you an idea of what I will eventually put into words of what is essentially going to be happening...
Yeah. That.
Any interest?
Alright, here are the details.
By Our Fists, We Are Exalted is a game of kickassery. It will be a game where every character proves his worth by his ability to be a badass whenever the occasion so calls for it. As such, it is a game where Exalted Martial Arts will be coming into play a lot.
This game will start with the characters as heroic mortals, using the God-Blooded template. You will all get Martial Arts as a free favoured ability. Every one of you has the ability to wield essence but whether that's a natural gift, from ascetic devotion, thaumaturgy, a gift from an Exalt, divine/demonic/ghostly ancestry, etc. is up to you.
The story of this game takes place in the East (not much of a surprise there), south of Denandsor, on the shores of the Grey River. Your characters will find their origin in a small, unimportant town known as Chat, where whispers of unclean spirits now haunt the area. Why you are in Chat, I leave to your own discretion but the area is a small hub for trade, as it resides on a very bumpy area of the river and has a dam that allows them to control the water in a side route, letting ships come and go as they please. Otherwise, it's a fairly unremarkable area, except by its proximity to other things.
Recruitment will be taken on the basis of an interesting character and how well the player can generate an epic bit of story. For that, I will be requiring a sheet with background + personality (doesn't need too much but should let me know how the character acts) and a brief story like the one at the beginning of this post. It doesn't necessarily have to be about your character, but it would help if it is.
As a final note: Charms. No character, regardless of origin, can take any charm save Terrestrial Martial Arts and Excellencies. In the case of the latter, they are excellencies as spirits use them, which means they can only add a number of dice equal to your essence. I'm also ruling that you can only have as many excellencies as you have dots of essence, though that should not be troublesome.
P.S. There IS a good chance you will Exalt during this little venture. Into what type is a good question, and it will probably not occur until the end of the story, but it is quite likely it will occur.
Scroll of the Monk is one of my favourite books. Not for the martial arts charms, as cool as those are, but for the fluff involved. Martial Arts and epic combat are the foundation stone of so many of the movies/animes/cartoons/mangas/comics/books/whatevers that make up the inspiration for Exalted. Acrobatic heroes who nimbly backflip over opponent's blades, smiling courtesans who slash a man's throat with an airy giggle, swordsmen who fence with narrowed eyes and hardened faces; all these and more make up this amazing iconography.
So I asked myself: "What would make an Exalted game this epic?"
The answer, of course, was a focus on Martial Arts and descriptive stunts.
As such, I am hosting a rather unusual recruitment for a somewhat unusual game. Here's the skinny:
This will be a game of Exalted where I will be choosing players based on a description they will write as a part of their application. In it, they will write a brief story, like the one I posted above, that is epic in nature. In this story, they will emphasize just how good they are at making a character's battles, hardships or what have you become epic.
This story need not be for the character they have created but there will be bonus points given if it is, with more given the more absolutely, mind-blowingly awesome it is. The story itself is, however, the basis for your entrance to this game and it's probably better if it's about your character.
The game itself is most likely going to be low in power. You will either be God-Blooded or Terrestrial Exalts, most likely the former, and the game will focus heavily on Martial Arts. Once I get enough interest for this basic concept (A low-power Martial Arts heavy game of Exalted with a focus on epic stunts), I will start giving you more details on what kind of story you will be enjoying.
However, to give you an idea of what I will eventually put into words of what is essentially going to be happening...
Yeah. That.
Any interest?
Alright, here are the details.
By Our Fists, We Are Exalted is a game of kickassery. It will be a game where every character proves his worth by his ability to be a badass whenever the occasion so calls for it. As such, it is a game where Exalted Martial Arts will be coming into play a lot.
This game will start with the characters as heroic mortals, using the God-Blooded template. You will all get Martial Arts as a free favoured ability. Every one of you has the ability to wield essence but whether that's a natural gift, from ascetic devotion, thaumaturgy, a gift from an Exalt, divine/demonic/ghostly ancestry, etc. is up to you.
The story of this game takes place in the East (not much of a surprise there), south of Denandsor, on the shores of the Grey River. Your characters will find their origin in a small, unimportant town known as Chat, where whispers of unclean spirits now haunt the area. Why you are in Chat, I leave to your own discretion but the area is a small hub for trade, as it resides on a very bumpy area of the river and has a dam that allows them to control the water in a side route, letting ships come and go as they please. Otherwise, it's a fairly unremarkable area, except by its proximity to other things.
Recruitment will be taken on the basis of an interesting character and how well the player can generate an epic bit of story. For that, I will be requiring a sheet with background + personality (doesn't need too much but should let me know how the character acts) and a brief story like the one at the beginning of this post. It doesn't necessarily have to be about your character, but it would help if it is.
As a final note: Charms. No character, regardless of origin, can take any charm save Terrestrial Martial Arts and Excellencies. In the case of the latter, they are excellencies as spirits use them, which means they can only add a number of dice equal to your essence. I'm also ruling that you can only have as many excellencies as you have dots of essence, though that should not be troublesome.
P.S. There IS a good chance you will Exalt during this little venture. Into what type is a good question, and it will probably not occur until the end of the story, but it is quite likely it will occur.
Terrestrial and God-Blooded martial artists, as well as martial arts in general have always been a point of interest for me. Martial arts movies, fighting games, comics of all sorts... it's all good.
