Dr. Tran: Pefect Analogy for the Primordial War

[devilaether]

Think of it like this: Everything is pefectly sane, the world functions as it should. Then, from out of nowhere, an inexplicable force appears and throws all rationality out the window. Your world is turned upside down, none of the rules you thought were steady constants seem to apply anymore. Your very sense of identity is suddenly the plaything of this alien entity that has no concern for your right to exist in the manner that, until recently, was only natural for you to be.


Dr. Tran is a Primordial, and the Big Mean Voice is the manfiestation of the Exalted killing and reshaping its component souls.

 

[Thanqol]

Exalted aren't an inexplicable force in my mind... they're crazy horrifying acid-dripping insects. They've got one stunted, weak tiny soul which can't even channel essence and are so basic and tiny as to be beneath one's notice. Their tiny minds cannot comprehend your scale, your beauty, your music, your language, your culture, your technology. And yet, some are still attracted to you, bothering you like pesky flies. You, understandably, swat them because they're annoying.


And then some asshole gives crazy insects the means to get revenge for every anthill accidentally crushed by your pet dog or every mosquito swatted. There's nothing you can do to reason with these creatures. Even those of you with ant farms, or even dedicated insect biologists have no idea what to deal with them.


Their motives you understand, because they're simple. Crude. They want revenge. They want power.


Their perceptions of those motivations are horrifyingly complex. They spin elaborate delusions inside their own heads, obscuring what their goals really are from themselves despite it being plainly obvious to you. They say they are serving their god when they are really simply getting payback. They say they are doing it for love when what they really want is your bleeding heart to eat. How can you negotiate with beings so dedicated, so completely fixated on justifying what they've already decided to do: The brutal murder of you and all your kin?


You can't. So you try to fight. But they're endless. Even when they cast you down, they do not understand you. Even when they put out your eyes they cannot guess what it is to truly see. Even when they cut out your brain they do not know what it is to think. Even when they pull off your face they call it just and righteous and deserved.

 

[terrormortus]

Exalted aren't an inexplicable force in my mind... they're crazy horrifying acid-dripping insects. They've got one stunted, weak tiny soul which can't even channel essence and are so basic and tiny as to be beneath one's notice. Their tiny minds cannot comprehend your scale, your beauty, your music, your language, your culture, your technology. And yet, some are still attracted to you, bothering you like pesky flies. You, understandably, swat them because they're annoying.
And then some asshole gives crazy insects the means to get revenge for every anthill accidentally crushed by your pet dog or every mosquito swatted. There's nothing you can do to reason with these creatures. Even those of you with ant farms, or even dedicated insect biologists have no idea what to deal with them.


Their motives you understand, because they're simple. Crude. They want revenge. They want power.


Their perceptions of those motivations are horrifyingly complex. They spin elaborate delusions inside their own heads, obscuring what their goals really are from themselves despite it being plainly obvious to you. They say they are serving their god when they are really simply getting payback. They say they are doing it for love when what they really want is your bleeding heart to eat. How can you negotiate with beings so dedicated, so completely fixated on justifying what they've already decided to do: The brutal murder of you and all your kin?


You can't. So you try to fight. But they're endless. Even when they cast you down, they do not understand you. Even when they put out your eyes they cannot guess what it is to truly see. Even when they cut out your brain they do not know what it is to think. Even when they pull off your face they call it just and righteous and deserved.

As usual Thanqol, your Primordial propaganda is beautiful in it's content and delivery. But you forgot one thing, history is written by the winners so you are wrong and it was just. Please accept that fact or the Sidereals will get angry, you won't like them when they are angry.


Also mention how even after imprisoning you they still tear bits of you from your prison to serve them or how even in death they could not leave you well enough alone and plundered your still conscious corpses for what little information they could, not even allowing you peace after they had murdered you.


Oh, and I watched Dr. Tran and if anything that's what happens to the poor bastards stuck in a Fair Folk court.

 

[Thanqol]

History was written by the winners right up until the Green Sun Project came online.


Now the plan is to destroy the Loom of Fate, thereby destroying linear time and causality, and thus letting the people with the highest Willpower scores write history through sheer bloody stubbornness. And no one has quite as much Willpower as the Primordials. They did will the cosmos into existing after all.


This plan may suffer from minor flaws of execution, such as being totally insane and more likely to damn the cosmos than to save it. But maybe that's a good thing. Maybe if all the insects are destroyed here and now and this entire failed project collapses forever, maybe then it won't spread. Maybe others will come from the Wyld and forge a new Creation, and maybe they won't make the same mistakes we did.


And that's my new tabletop's premise in a nutshell.