Shadows of the Setting Sun (Main)

[Sherwood]

Tyree is a quiet one, rising early in the morning so she can watch the beauty of the light of the rising sun reflect off of the snow at the start of the day. Finally, she turns away from the sight with a sigh and smile, moving to slip into her armor and cover herself with her thick furs. With the Charms she knows, it would be a simple enough thing to leave the cloak behind, but walking about without some heavy winter clothing would just make her stand out even more. In her final step, Tyree grabs up Zelator. The Lunar does not travel about without the spear, especially with the plan to march on the shadowland and wage war against the encroaching forces of the Underworld that even now is moving against Creation.

 

[D. Rex]

Oh, I have a deal I want to cut with them alright. That is all I needed to know. Except for numbers which is the biggest thing of I am curious of. Because if they are as you say, then my soldiers are at a Major disadvantage already, and I won't be wasting an army like that.

 

[WlfSamurai]

Scene 1

Judge Jokaza Ryst’s manor, as large as it is in the Afton section of the city, is spartan and functional. You all were given a small room on the second floor with old—but clean—bedrolls to sleep on, but no creature comforts. One flat pillow each. No extra blankets. This, of course, fits the woman herself you had met just days ago. She is well-dressed; polite, but proper. When Judge Ryst smiles, it is with the least amount of effort possible. She never takes her cold eyes off you if she's speaking to you. Since meeting her, you have not seen the Judge. You get the feeling she's keeping it that way.

Instead, you've been attended to by Judge Ryst's only servant and housekeeper, Vigo. He is a quiet thin man who looks good for his middle-age, but has a vibrant fire in his eyes. He always seems to appear with just what you need when you need it and disappear so as not to disrupt.

There is a balcony on the second floor that spans the entire perimeter of the roof. You have been given free access to the balcony. The view of the rest of the city is breath-taking as you get a glimpse of the amount of thought and design that went into the construction of the urban layout.

When you wake in the morning, a large breakfast—though no one would mistake it for "lavish"—has been set out in the dining hall. It is here that you all make your plans for the trek to Marama's Fell. Vigo moves in and out of the room, pouring drinks as necessary or refilling plates if needed.

Esbilon , Epiphany , Rykon , Sherwood , D. Rex , Random Word , Teh Frixz , jaydude

 

[jaydude]

From his many years spent within the domain of the Spider King, Makuro was used to living conditions that were less than lavish. And he certainly wasn't going to murder an important noble just so that he could stay in their home. Not outside of a Realm territory, anyway.

As he ate breakfast, he observed the rest of his fellow Celestial Exalted who were at the table, while considering what little he knew about those who might not be there. Mournful Chalice he had gotten to know on the journey here. He was happy to do the same with Toun and Tyree, given how they too had been chosen by Luna, but so far they had yet to start making names for themselves within the Silver Pact as he had done, presumably due to either a lack of time from an only recent Exaltation, or other ambitions of their own. As for the Solars...

Makuro mentally exhaled. Creation had been without Solars for centuries. The Lunars had resigned themselves to their permanent absence, and now four of them showed up in one place? This had to be some kind of metaphor he was living in, an analogy for how much the returning Solars could affect things for the Silver Pact in the months and years to come. Either that, or the Realm would get its act together and send up a Wyld Hunt to either kill them all, or lock them up within the Nail.

Still, he considered the Chosen of the Unconquered Sun as well. Zoya seemed genuinely concerned for the people of Whitewall, which so far fit in nicely with Makuro's hope of building the city up as a place from which the Silver Pact could strike out at neighboring Pneuma. Afureru appeared to be similarly well-meaning, though it remained to be seen what her attitude towards the Silver Pact would be. But as for Aeliana and Sigrdrífa, what little impression he had of them so far suggested that they were little more than glory hounds, seeking strong foes for no other reason than to prove their own strength. And on top of that, Toun seemed to have a good deal of affection for Sigrdrifa, which Makuro was inclined to see as a danger sign, given his past use of seduction to serve the Silver Pact's goals.

[Makuro will start off with a Minor Tie of Respect towards Mournful Chalice, and Minor Ties of Polite Interest towards Toun and Tyree. He also gets Minor Ties of Cautious Respect towards Zoya and Afureru, given how they both seem to have good intentions, but he doesn't entirely trust them yet. As for Aeliana and Sigrdrifa, he gets nothing, because at best, he doesn't know enough about them to feel comfortable forming any level of positive ties towards them.]

Makuro himself had so far been nothing besides polite and amicable to the other Celestials, Toun and Tyree in particular. He saw no point in antagonizing anyone here, though he was more inclined to trust the other Chosen of Luna, simply because those Exalted were the most familiar to him, as well as his obligations towards the Silver Pact.

So saying that, he turned to look at Tyree, and gave the Full Moon a respectful smile. "I have to say, it's always good to meet a fellow Chosen of Luna." he said, trying to convey feelings of hopeful friendship towards her with both his words and his body language, adopting a relaxed manner within his chair to try and put her at ease.

Sherwood
[Attempting to Instill a Minor Tie of Friendship towards Makuro within Tyree. Rolling Appearance + Socialize, and claiming a one-point stunt for nine dice. Assuming the roll stands, that's four successes.]

 

[Random Word]

Sigrdrífa yawns and stretches as she disentangles herself from the bedroll. She doesn't bother dressing, instead gathering her heavy fur coat from where she's laid it out under her bedroll and her caribou skin travel bag, donning both and striding purposefully towards the balcony. She might have found nicer accommodations, but Afureru had told her it would only force them to stay here longer and delay the next hunt. Sigrdrífa didn't really see how these Settled mortals could stop her if she wanted to leave, but Afureru understood Settled tribes better than she did, so for now she would sleep under the roof of this elder Ryst.

She steps up onto the balustrade and peers bleary eyed and uncomprehending out at the city, bathed in dawn light as the rising sun crests the horizon. She had thought this place was a mountain from a distance. Afureru had told her it was no mountain, but walls. Sigrdrífa had laughed - she understood the walls of Settled people, but what use would walls of such size be? If they were attacked on one side and standing on the other, it would take more than an hour to get to the attackers, by which point they would already have long since climbed up. Even if an entire village stood watch without breaks they couldn't defend a small piece of a wall that large. Afureru had insisted people lived inside it, more than she could ever hope to count in a lifetime, and Sigrdrífa hadn't believed her until they were a few kilometres out and she started to hear it. Too many voices to count, an unending wind-borne susurrus that washed over her even now. Each of these buildings carved from the white mountain seemed to hold more people than she had seen in her entire life, and there were more buildings than stars in the sky. And they never shut up.

It is overwhelming, and so she steps off the balcony, tossing her bag and coat aside and plummeting down through the thick layer of ice over the decorative pond in the courtyard below with a whoop and a satisfying crunch, the shocking cold of the water as it rose up to her hips setting her heart racing. She slips the rest of the way under the ice as her coat drifts down beside the pond, her braided hair floating in the water around her as she looks up at the shafts of sunlight filtering through the ice. The water muffles the sounds of the city beautifully, and the intense cold reminds her she's alive, so she stays under for as long as her breath lasts before rising to recline at the edge of the pool, shaking the water from her hair and smiling, fully awake.

After a minute the chill becomes unbearable, setting her to intense shivering, so she decides she no longer wishes to feel the cold and suddenly the water is as pleasant as a hotsprings, her shivering departing as quickly as it arrived. She closes her eyes and concentrates on picking apart the sounds washing over her, trying vainly to reach even a basic understanding of this unnatural place. The vibrations she feels through the rock tell her there are, impossibly, even more people beneath the earth that she cannot see, and even now she can hear a man being beaten to death by several others while none around intervene. Why would you do that to your own tribe? If they aren't his tribe, where is his tribe to protect him? She can no longer hear the heartbeat of one of those sleeping in the road deep beneath her. She is unsurprised - it was weak last night. If someone had offered a spot in their tent and something to eat they might have recovered, but this at least she could understand. Sometimes there was nothing more to spare, and dragging the weak could kill you as surely as any predator. She can hear prayers to a thousand Spirits in a hundred shrines, settled merchants trading a hundred wares she's never seen, and most interesting of all a hundred songs she has never heard, played on instruments she does not know. She lingers on these longest, enjoying the strange new music while she soaks and scrubs accumulated weeks of travel grime from her skin. She can hear Toun's heartbeat, strong and healthy, and other new heartbeats, so they must have arrived last night, and she doesn't want to be filthy when she sees him.

She can hear many of the other Chosen (So many! Even old Kaneko must be jealous.) discussing things over breakfast, but she doesn't pay a great deal of attention. Afureru will tell her when they depart for the next hunt, and Toun is more interesting.

 

[jaydude]

It is overwhelming, and so she steps off the balcony, tossing her bag and coat aside and plummeting down through the thick layer of ice over the decorative pond in the courtyard below with a whoop and a satisfying crunch, the shocking cold of the water as it rose up to her hips setting her heart racing. She slips the rest of the way under the ice as her coat drifts down beside the pond, her braided hair floating in the water around her as she looks up at the shafts of sunlight filtering through the ice. The water muffles the sounds of the city beautifully, and the intense cold reminds her she's alive, so she stays under for as long as her breath lasts before rising to recline at the edge of the pool, shaking the water from her hair and smiling, fully awake.

After a few minutes the chill becomes unbearable, setting her to intense shivering, so she decides she no longer wishes to feel the cold and suddenly the water is as pleasant as a hotsprings, her shivering departing as quickly as it arrived.

Makuro had been out for a little pre-breakfast walk when he chanced upon Sigrdrífa at the balcony, looking out at the city of Whitewall. She didn't see him, and when she removed her bag and coat and fell off the balcony in a manner that couldn't have been anything besides deliberate, he actually gaped and strode over to where she had fallen. He then looked over the balustrade to see the hole she'd made in the ice, and lingered there long enough to see her emerge from beneath the water's surface. Once he saw that there was clearly no danger of her succumbing to hypothermia, he exhaled and shook his head in apparent disbelief before turning away.

Only a mad person would deliberately jump into an ice lake. At least, that was what he had once believed.

 

[Rykon]

Whitewall Countryside
Toun stirred in the early hours of the morning, rising long before the sun had. His razor tooth maw yawned open, forelegs extending forward and back arching for an awkward if satisfying stretch. His den for the night was little more than a nook under a tree reaching its aged, gnarled branches over a stream running gently over a sandy creekbed. Beside it was a well-used fire pit ringed in soot blanketed stones clutching greedily at the embers now shedding their tired wispy streams of smoke.

Toun stood up on all fours and padded across his makeshift camp, tossing a sparse bundle of tied-up kindling into the pit to stoke the flames on his way to the chilly waters nearby. Without hesitation, he dove in, eyes open to spot his prey. Within short-order a fresh trout rode its way downstream into the jaws of the patient fisher-fox. Prize in fang, the lunar stepped back to dry land, thrashing much of the water and grime from his white coat. Within a moment, the Exalted Icewalker resumed his human shape, dropping his wriggling catch from his teeth and into his arms, skewering it to stand beside the growing heat of his campfire.

While breakfast cooked slowly, Toun left his damp buff jacket to dry on a bed of pine needles he arranged the night before. Once he acquired a beast's nose there was no 'un-smelling' the kind of filth one person could acquire. Best not to carry that kind of stench with him. Though the interesting faces it drew out of city folk could be their own entertainment, it would still be at his own expense. For now, he'd carry with him a reminder of home that could contrast the reeking odors of settled men and women. Frosty pines and babbling creeks.

After he'd had his fill of breakfast, Toun donned his dried attire, hefted his effects in a satchel over his shoulder, and strode confidently through the gates of Whitewall. Afureru and company weren't the hardest to find even after the brief business trip. Mercenaries weren't as common here as they were in southern climes where the guild held sway. No this was a realm of gods, of whose number he proudly counted himself. With naught but a mental blip of Essence, the denizens of the immaterial world shimmered to life and form before him as moonlight on a rippling pond. Exchanging recognition and purpose was but a matter of trading glances. Nary a word needed for a busied servant spirit to escort the newly minted divinity to his companions. At his destination, he dismissed the kind goddess with an appreciative pat on the head and a toothy smile. "Let your masters know Toun Whitefang offers his gratitude, kind lady. I'll not keep you any longer."

The towering tribesman had barely approached the door, hand raised to softly punch the door for some bizarre city ritual some stranger or another chided him about in his last visit before he found Vigo dutifully opening it to permit a polite quiet entry. Ah, of course he would. The place was just as he remembered it, minimalistic. The great void of opulence and the accompanying curse of rancid furniture polish was one he was grateful for. He took a seat on the second-floor balcony in some piece that appeared as if a basket mated with a throne. An odd design, but also a welcome perch to watch the stars fade behind the azure veil of the ascendant Sun's sky while the others savored their rest.

 

[Teh Frixz]

Aeliana, The Evervictor

The morning light, the first kiss on the cheek of the Unconquered Sun. Something Aeliana would welcome with open arms on any normal day but as it had been for the last few months, normalcy was long departed.

A pillow, the pillow, found itself catapulted out the window, over the balcony, and soaring out towards the waking city. The mat was lucky it didn’t follow suit, the pillow sailing out and catching a morning breeze. Eventually, the stress on the fabric became too much and a small cloud of feathers began falling back down to creation. Aeliana had no time to appreciate the sight as her eyes were meanwhile, planted in the mat, her nose squished up against the hard ground.

It was a grim reminder of her life before Exaltation, straw mats with little crawling things that sucked blood, skittering all around in them. Little beasties she’d spend mornings with before the games began squishing them one by one. The memory made her itch. The little beasties stopped and vanished from her cot the day the Unconquered Son had accosted her.

Deciding that sitting with her memories all morning wasn’t worth it, Aeliana decide to face her patron head on. While their host hadn’t been the most gracious, much to the chagrin of the Evervictor, the balcony provided did manage take away some of the sting of being hosted by an ascetic. The view was glorious, something she’d likely one day proclaim a tenant of her worship. Not a necessity, just something she’d bless the addition of to her temples.

The air was cold, an unwelcome change compared to the ambient warmth of warmer climates but as she stepped out to perform a routine of stretching, she was distracted by a splash nearby. A man was standing, shaking his head. Blinking a few times she recognized the outline of the handsome Servant of the Spider. Another little beastie of a much different sort. Makuro was his name, Aeliana having been watching him with interest in their group as he managed to come off as a bit more civilized than some of his lunar kin. Something she appreciated more and more each day spent in these Northern realms.

“Makuro! If you are disposing of secret documents or if some sort of incident has occurred were you’ve had to hide a body, I’d suggest doing it not in the eye of the waking Sun. Secrets safe with me though!”

Without waiting for a response she turned on her heel, reentering her room to continue with her morning routines before dressing and heading down to the table to greet her host as well as her fellows at the table. Making sure to take out her frustrations on the quality of their stay by making sure to make up for it with quantity, Vigo being called over again and again as she purposefully began to eat more than needed, a delightful grin on her face and a cherry attitude to greet everyone with.

 

[Random Word]

Sigrdrífa snatches a feather out of the air as several float by on the wind, examines it curiously, then discards it. She finishes her ablutions and rises smoothly from the pool, shaking the water off her skin before picking up her coat to towel off. It was remarkably effective, and dried surprisingly quickly, making it a life and limb saver on more than one occasion when someone had fallen into water. Yet another reason she was grateful. From her travel bag she pulled on and tightened sinew laced black sealskin boots and leggings, both lined with grey wolf fur, then a black linen shift bought from settled traders, and over it a fur lined jerkin of thick hide that ended in a four-segment skirt. Over her shoulders she draped a snow leopard hide with fur like thick grey smoke, embroidered with Moonsilver and reinforced with Black Jade, and pinned in front with a bronze brooch.

Intensely blue eyes, faintly luminous when her emotions ran hot as they did this morning, stare back at her from her reflection in the still waters of the pool as she puts on earrings and hair ornaments of black onyx, silver, bone, and feather. She draws a small pouch and a small bronze bowl from her bag, mixing the thick powder in the pouch with cold water in the bowl to make her war paint which she applies to around her eyes, forehead, and lips. Satisfied, she rises and heads inside, casually snatching one of the many plates Vigo was carrying to the exotic foreigner who dressed like she had as little to fear from the cold as Sigrdrífa and carried herself like she was every bit as intimate with violence. Sigrdrífa would have let her notice the stolen plate, just to see if she would rise to the bait, but not this morning. Sigrdrífa was too excited for her destination to tarry.

It was remarkable what people would overlook, she mused as she ascended to the second floor balcony and wolfed down some food. If she didn't want to be seen, she wasn't. Despite her height, her striking features, and her foreign dress, when she walked around the markets yesterday afternoon not only had she not received a second glance, she hadn't even received a first. Eyes just sort of slid over her as if she wasn't there unless she walked up and addressed someone. And so it was she found herself standing behind Toun's wicker rocking chair as he watched the sunrise. Of course he could hear her approach, smell her, even see her if he chanced to turn at the right moment, but her presence is utterly irrelevant, and so he does not perceive her right up until the moment she wraps one arm around his neck and grabs her opposite shoulder while the other swiftly forces itself between his back and upper arms to pin him with viselike strength.

[I'm assuming Sigrdrífa has not seen Toun since last year's Convocation, and she does not yet know what has happened to Arctic Fox, nor why he's in Whitewall. All she knows is Toun is Chosen.]

She nuzzles her cheek against his, "Handsome Farm Boy! Did you miss me? Oh, I suppose you can't answer that, because you can't breathe. That's okay, I know you did. Fancy meeting you here with all the other less handsome settled boys. And aren't there so many? I don't even think they have tribes here, so many of them seem to be all on their own. Well, while I have you here, let me tell you a story. Once the euphoria of being Chosen wore off, I thought to myself, 'Won't Convocations be so boring now that I'll effortlessly crush everyone?' So imagine my surprise when a little bird told me you were Chosen too! Did you get yourselves Chosen just for me, so I wouldn't be bored? That's so sweet." She pauses, suddenly stricken, and removes her arm from his neck to grasp his jaw and turn it towards her, pulling his lip back slightly with a thumb to examine his teeth, "Wait, did you get fangs, too? You did! Why didn't I get fangs?" she demands, her grip loosening slightly as her indignation captures all her attention.

[If Toun transforms at this point she'll pitch forward with the now empty chair, or you can pull any other manoeuvre you like to break free and/or turn the tables.]

 

[Esbilon]

When Zoya asked to be granted an audience with the Syndics, she as instead told that she was only one of several Exalted in the city and invited to stay with the rest of them in home of one Judge Ryst. Taken quite aback by this reversal in her expectations, Zoya politely declined the room, but has been by before to get acquainted with the others and finds them rather an eclectic bunch.

This morning, she arrives shortly after sunrise dressed in warm colors and a warm coat, her long, wavy red hair hanging freely around her. On her back she carries an oversized scabbard of white leather and the hilt that rises from it is likewise wrapped in white cloth to hide the nature of the blade from casual observers.

It is not quite accurate to say that she is nervous upon seeing the displays of her fellows on Judge Ryst's balcony, but she does prefer to keep her eyes open and study them from the probably-not-actually-safe distance of across the table. She eats sparingly, but without complaint from the food set before them and smiles politely when Vigo refills her tea cup.

 

[Rykon]

Toun's form flickered, quickly reweaving itself into that of a small white fox. He suddenly sank back in the chair. The push intended to disrupt Sigrdrifa's balance into tumbling forward. Amidst the confusion, Toun resumed human shape quickly raising his arms to settle her fall onto his lap. "I know you always want to be the big spoon when we cuddle but convocation only happens once a year, and I do miss your face Sigi." He teased affectionately, tracing his index finger along her jaw. The icey blue of his eyes locked their sight with the intense color of hers. Old emotions and longings magnified. His breath caught in his throat. A moment passed and words returned as recognition set in. His posture relaxed, seemingly unconcerned if she continued her assault, though he did spare a thought for the life of a comfy seat.

"Speaking of convocations, I don't think I qualify anymore. I'd have to represent a tribe to do more than spectate. A lot has happened since the last gathering. Were I to even make an appearance I can't say I'd want to leave many survivors." He lifted her lip with his thumb in playful mimicry of her own inspection. "Perhaps you'll find another way to earn your fangs." He chuckled, dismissing the disappointment of a path now closed to him.

He lifted her up to let her head rest on his shoulder. His eyes raised to witness the last star flee behind the growing blue veil of a dawning sky. "I had a feeling you'd be here, but I didn't know why. Are the Snow Leopards still taking care of themselves?" He asked in a wistful tone.

 

[WlfSamurai]

Eventually, breakfast has been had and you’ve all had a chance to ready yourselves mentally and gear up. As the morning waxes, a seemingly young man comes calling. His white hair and skin almost look cool to the touch. His piercing blue eyes have a certain playfulness about them.

With his hands shoved in his pockets, he strolls into the dining hall. Looking it over, realizing not all of you are there, he sighs. “Vigo, my friend. My guiding star. My shepherd...”

Vigo rolls his eyes, but doesn’t respond. He just listens.

“Would you be a dear and collect everyone together. I’d like to announce myself.”

After a time, Vigo manages to collect any who are willing to come into the dining hall. Once all together, the young man clears his throat.

“Yes, hello. Right. So, hi. How are you all? I’m great, too. I’d like to meet you all in a moment, but I’ll go first.” He rubs his hands together and smiles. “I’m Aaki. Some call me ‘Whistling Death’. I can tell by the look on your faces I should probably workshop that a bit more. It was something I was just trying out. Anyway, I’m here on behalf of the Syndics. They send their apologies for—“ He looks around the room, signaling the Judge’s manor and trying to find the ‘right’ word. “...This...place. Regardless, I’ve been assigned to go with you, wherever that may be. You know...” He looks you all over. “...to...help. Not that any of you are really going to need it, clearly. But, anyway, I’m here. For you. With you. To...uh...help. Yeah.”

He leaves an awkward pause. “Oh yeah! Right. Sorry. I’m not from Whitewall originally, but I’ve been a Guardian here for...oh...six years now? Anyway, I’m in the 4th Precinct. Obviously, you can tell, I’m an Air Aspect Dragon-Blood. I like sharp knives and long walks along the ramparts. Yeah, that’s me. What you about you?”

Esbilon , Epiphany , Rykon , Sherwood , D. Rex , Random Word , Teh Frixz , jaydude

 

[jaydude]

“Makuro! If you are disposing of secret documents or if some sort of incident has occurred were you’ve had to hide a body, I’d suggest doing it not in the eye of the waking Sun. Secrets safe with me though!”

Makuro's cover must have been working, if she thought him enough of a fool to be incapable of practicing discretion. Not that it stopped him from rolling his eyes as he left.

Present time...
The Changing Moon currently wore his mammoth hide buff jacket as he sat within his chair and regarded Aaki with a polite, if cool, expression. Once the Air Aspect had finished speaking, he gave a little shrug of his shoulders.

"My name is Makuro. I'm a traveler of sorts, from the mountains west of here." he said, not yet sure how much information he wanted to share with the other man. Out of habit, he looked at Aaki, trying to deduce what the Air Aspect might be trying to accomplish here.

[Attempting Read Intentions. Claiming one-point stunt for two more dice, and spending 2m Personal Essence for 2 more, giving me 9 dice total. Nine successes, hell yeah.]

 

[Sherwood]

Tyree looks over the Dragon Blooded with curiosity. "I'm Tyree. Originally from Whitewall, but I haven't been living here for a long time. I like looking at the sun sparkling on the newly fallen snow, a good roast beef, and stabbing people that cross me with my spear. What else would you like to know?"

 

[Random Word]

Sigrdrífa yelps in surprise as Toun vanishes, she tumbles over the suddenly empty chair trying to keep a hold of his much smaller - but so much fluffier! - form, and then suddenly he's just there again and she's in his lap. She blinks a few times as she tries to process what happened, and before she can retaliate she notices his tone, expression, and posture and all thoughts of violence vanish. Something is clearly wrong. She doesn't resist when he lifts her to his shoulder, and this time when she wraps her arms around him it's for comfort.

She looks up at him, concerned, "Huh? Yeah, tribe's fine, I just have to do a bunch of heroic stuff for the Spirits before I can go home. Did your tribe exile you?" she asks, incredulous, "You were the greatest warrior they produced in generations, and now you're Chosen. How could they be so stupid? We'll adopt you in a heartbeat... y'know, if you want."

[Presumably Vigo interrupts us after you reply, but if you explain what happened Sigrdrífa is going to be furious and probably yell bloody murder loud enough for the whole house to hear.]

----

Sigrdrífa gives this ‘Whistling Death’ a dubious look. These settled Spirits think she needs help on a hunt, and this is what they send? Perhaps he's more dangerous than he looks? Well, if he gets himself killed it isn't her problem, and if he's too weak to keep up he'll just be left behind. She laughs appreciatively at Tyree's introduction as she walks up to Aaki and slaps him across the back hard enough to send the average mortal sprawling, quickly catching hold of his shoulder to forcefully right him if he can't stand on his own. "Well met and welcome to the hunt, ‘Whistling Death’, Champion of the Syndics. I am Sigrdrífa Tyrsdohtriz, Champion of Snow Leopard. I like tearing legendary spirit beasts limb from limb, feasting on their roasted flesh in good company, and taking the comeliest of that company into my bed at the end of the night," she says with a patronising smile. "I'm certain you'll bring honour to your ancestors, and glory to the Syndics," she says in a voice that suggests she's anything but. She steps away to sit on the side of the dining table to wait for the other introductions. Then perhaps they can finally leave this unnatural place and begin the next hunt.

 

[jaydude]

Tyree looks over the Dragon Blooded with curiosity. "I'm Tyree. Originally from Whitewall, but I haven't been living here for a long time. I like looking at the sun sparkling on the newly fallen snow, a good roast beef, and stabbing people that cross me with my spear. What else would you like to know?"

Makuro raised an eyebrow when it became apparent that Tyree had opted to ignore his attempt at friendly conversation. Was she deaf, or had he somehow offended her just now?

[Assuming that the lack of response from Tyree is the result of my failing to beat her Resolve.]

His ruminations - as well as any potential brooding - would then be interrupted by Sigrdrífa's own response to the Air Aspect's introduction. She certainly seemed skeptical of him, that much was obvious.

 

[Sherwood]

Makuro raised an eyebrow when it became apparent that Tyree had opted to ignore his attempt at friendly conversation. Was she deaf, or had he somehow offended her just now?

[Assuming that the lack of response from Tyree is the result of my failing to beat her Resolve.]

His ruminations - as well as any potential brooding - would then be interrupted by Sigrdrífa's own response to the Air Aspect's introduction. She certainly seemed skeptical of him, that much was obvious.

Tyree suddenly jumps in her seat and looks over at Makuro. "Sorry, I was off in my own little world there for a moment. I get that way sometimes. What were you saying?" She smiles at him, trying to make sure he knows she was not teasing him or mad in any way.

 

[jaydude]

Tyree suddenly jumps in her seat and looks over at Makuro. "Sorry, I was off in my own little world there for a moment. I get that way sometimes. What were you saying?" She smiles at him, trying to make sure he knows she was not teasing him or mad in any way.

Makuro mentally exhaled in relief.

"It's fine. I was just saying earlier that I'm always happy to meet a fellow devotee of Luna." he explained to Tyree, returning her smile. He figured that she'd no doubt be able to intuit what he meant by 'devotee', and hopefully Toun would as well. Truth be told, he wasn't yet sure about revealing his Exalted nature in front of the Air Aspect, even outside of a Realm-controlled territory.

"I've only ever been in this city for a few days myself. So if there's anything you could tell me with regards to it, I would be most grateful."

That business cleared up, he turned his attention back to the rest of the group, waiting to hear the rest of the introductions.

 

[Teh Frixz]

Aeliana, the Evervictor

The platitudes and chit chat between friends are momentarily interrupted by a thud and the clinking sound of the small mountain of plates, platters, and bowls Aeliana had accrued that were still being tended to by the servants. Aeliana had planted a foot on the table, throwing both arms up and briefly flaring her anima.

“Most excellent greetings to you too, Dragon Blood!” She steps the rest of the way up, lowering her arms and giving an elaborate bow, eyes locking with his. “As the others, and most that grace my path, know, I am The Evervictor, the Champion of the Unconquered Son, and Living God of the Evervictor Cult. I’m honored to meet you”

Aeliana steps off the table with flourish, approaching Aaki with open arms before ducking to his side to lean on in close and look closely at his lips.

“So these will really bring death to us if brought to bare? I look forward to seeing your whistling prowess in action, hopefully not against me or any of my fine compatriots here!” She gestures back to each Exalted, smiling to them in turn.

Spoiler

okay, trying my exalted Rolling here. Attempting to charm and impress Aaki with her performance, using masterful performance technique charm!

Gonna claim a 1 point stunt bonus for the description. Burning 2m for the charm. 5 dice for ability and 5 dice for attributes. That’s 11 dice, rerolling 1s until they fail to appear!

That’s seven successes!
Edit:
2 more plus the one so that’s now 10!

 

[Rykon]

"Exile? I wish..." Toun took in a deep breath. It wasn't lingering sadness beneath the surface but a simmering rage that demanded satisfaction. Demanded justice. "The short version is that the war between Foxes and Stags went very wrong. They started bringing spirits along on ambushes, making more precise targetted attacks. The band leader and the veterans fell first. I was chosen while killing the assassins, but none of the others in my group survived."

"So naturally, I followed their trail back to their encampment. They were specifically trying to target me from what I overheard. Figured there was some personal grudge or bounty they wanted to collect. I thought I could lead them on a wild goose chase, pick more of them off over time. I did, but it wasn't enough. Before I knew it I was heading further and further west. I stumbled upon Afureru and her host by chance. Not long after though, I was summoned back to Snowdrift for a ritual sacred to Luna's chosen. What I found was complete devastation. No one was left. I couldn't even find Ruac's body..." Toun exhaled as he trailed off, turning to face Sigrdrifa and regain his focus. "The rest I burned on pyres, as is the proper way to send off warriors."

[I assume a pause for a brief display of fury.]

"I can't change what's happened, but I will balance the scales. As for your offer, I admit it's tempting... I've some new obligations, but perhaps we can figure something out." He replied with a pensive expression. He turned to see Vigo by the entrance to the balcony. "Ah, they're asking for us. We can discuss details later I guess."

***

Most of the introductions were to Toun's expectations. He knew of Tyree and she seemed agreeable enough. Aaki came across as a tad self-important, typical of city folk. Makuro seemed to want to keep to himself, a stance Toun could well appreciate. Then there was the Evervictor, bold title and vibrant energy to match. Time would test them all soon enough.

Toun stepped forward to speak with a slight nod of acknowledgment, still appraising his own fit within the group at large. "I am Toun Whitefang, Chosen of Luna and ascendant God of Snowdrift." He'd a few more titles he could claim but those were the ones he was proudest of. Better to save daylight anyway. "Making monsters die is what I do, natural or unnatural makes little difference. Other than the obvious strong drink and fine company, hunting new beasts to collect their shapes or try new foods has been entertaining enough lately."

"Speaking of..." He trailed off, setting a fairly large pack down by his feet. "I do have some left-over cured boar cuts and pots of honey. Small gifts for our own morale given the grim work beyond the walls."

 

[jaydude]

The platitudes and chit chat between friends are momentarily interrupted by a thud and the clinking sound of the small mountain of plates, platters, and bowls Aeliana had accrued that were still being tended to by the servants. Aeliana had planted a foot on the table, throwing both arms up and briefly flaring her anima.

Toun stepped forward to speak with a slight nod of acknowledgment, still appraising his own fit within the group at large. "I am Toun Whitefang, Chosen of Luna and ascendant God of Snowdrift." He'd a few more titles he could claim but those were the ones he was proudest of. Better to save daylight anyway. "Making monsters die is what I do, natural or unnatural makes little difference. Other than the obvious strong drink and fine company, hunting new beasts to collect their shapes or try new foods has been entertaining enough lately."

Makuro did another eyebrow raise, first at Aeliana's display, and then at Toun's statement. Unlike with Tyree, though, this one was more to convey polite surprise, rather than feelings of offense.

"I must confess, I'm surprised to see a Chosen of Luna being so open about what he is." he said to Toun. "Then again, I've spent a lot of time in lands under the sway of the Realm and the Immaculate Philosophy. Is Whitewall really so different for those considered 'Anathema'?"

 

[Esbilon]

"Yes," Zoya says and stands up, breaking her silence. This gathering is even stranger than she could have imagined, but there is no doubt about the power assembled here, and it she can do anything to direct that power in a fruitful direction, she must.

"My name is Zoya. I have lived in this city all my life, and I served as part of the Syndics' clergy for half my life before the Unconquered Sun chose me for his," she continues, the pure golden disk of the noon-day sun shining on her forehead. "Thus, you may trust me when I say that this place is not like those under the Scarlet Yoke. Whitewall was founded thousands of years ago by one whom the Immaculate Philosophy would now indeed deem 'Anathema' as a place to glorify the Sun, and since the Syndics took up office here, they have acted to continue that legacy. The Realm is welcome to send an embassy here, but no greater presence than that will be tolerated. Obviously, word still spreads across the North, and not everywhere is as safe for enemies of the Realm, but inside these walls you are as safe as anywhere in Creation."

"I am a priest, a scholar, and a sorcerer, and I aim to leave Creation a better place than I found it. I hope that you all will share that goal, and I hope that we may today begin working together despite our varied natures and lives before coming here."

 

[Random Word]

Sigrdrífa goes briefly still at the revelation, then her face contorts with rage, "THEY DID WHAT?" she roars, loud enough to shake the foundations of the house, "I WILL FUCKING KILL EVERY LAST ONE OF THEM AND MOUNT THEIR HEADS ON SPIKES." She realizes her mistake and apologizes, "No, sorry, you want to do that, this is your vengeance, not mine. So you came here to find me so we could go slaughter them all? I'm ready, just give the word."

[Presumably Toun has some reason not to want to immediately go seek vengeance?]

---

Sigrdrífa can't help but get caught up in the joy of the show, such is the skill and infectious enthusiasm with which it's performed. It does wonders to brighten her mood after the dark news of the day. She smiles clicks her tongue rapidly by way of applause - clapping isn't really a thing when your people spend most of their time with hidebound hands. Sure, the Spirits might have afflicted the foreign woman with madness, but they blessed her with the fun kind of madness.

She looks surprised at Makuro's concern, and listens curiously to Zoya's reply. She might be shaman of a strange settled Spirit, but that still demanded a certain amount of respect. Sigrdrífa turns back to Makuro after Zoya is done, "I don't know what it's like where you come from, but here we venerate the great Spirits, and afford their Chosen the respect they deserve. Your enemies came here to try to teach us the error of our ways, and my people broke their backs across our knee and left them to rot on the ice. Chosen here need never fear to proudly display their blessing. Even the settled people have not forgotten that much."

She looks at Zoya, "As for you, Sorcerer? You try to steal my soul and I'll end you, but you keep your magicks to yourself and we can come to an agreement, I think. The Spirits demand great feats of heroism worthy of song before I can return home. Your people are good at writing songs. I can hear them even now. I slay the horrors that stalk their nightmares, they please the Spirits in my name, and I get to go home. I leave your mountain of people better than I found it. You cross me, and I leave a mountain of rubble."

 

[jaydude]

"Yes," Zoya says and stands up, breaking her silence. This gathering is even stranger than she could have imagined, but there is no doubt about the power assembled here, and it she can do anything to direct that power in a fruitful direction, she must.

"My name is Zoya. I have lived in this city all my life, and I served as part of the Syndics' clergy for half my life before the Unconquered Sun chose me for his," she continues, the pure golden disk of the noon-day sun shining on her forehead. "Thus, you may trust me when I say that this place is not like those under the Scarlet Yoke. Whitewall was founded thousands of years ago by one whom the Immaculate Philosophy would now indeed deem 'Anathema' as a place to glorify the Sun, and since the Syndics took up office here, they have acted to continue that legacy. The Realm is welcome to send an embassy here, but no greater presence than that will be tolerated. Obviously, word still spreads across the North, and not everywhere is as safe for enemies of the Realm, but inside these walls you are as safe as anywhere in Creation."

"I am a priest, a scholar, and a sorcerer, and I am to leave Creation a better place than I found it. I hope that you all will share that goal, and I hope that we may today begin working together despite our varied natures and lives before coming here."

Sigrdrífa goes briefly still at the revelation, "THEY DID WHAT?" she roars, loud enough to shake the foundations of the house, "I WILL FUCKING KILL EVERY LAST ONE OF THEM AND MOUNT THEIR HEADS ON SPIKES." She realizes her mistake and apologizes, "No, sorry, you want to do that, this is your vengeance, not mine. So you came here to find me so we could go slaughter them all? I'm ready, just give the word."

[Presumably Toun has some reason not to want to immediately go seek vengeance?]

---

Sigrdrífa can't help but get caught up in the joy of the show, such is the skill and infectious enthusiasm with which it's performed. It does wonders to brighten her mood after the dark news of the day. She smiles clicks her tongue rapidly by way of applause - clapping isn't really a thing when your people spend most of their time with hidebound hands. Sure, the Spirits might have afflicted the foreign woman with madness, but they blessed her with the fun kind of madness.

She looks surprised at Makuro's concern, and listens curiously to Zoya's reply. She might be shaman of a strange settled Spirit, but that still demanded a certain amount of respect. Sigrdrífa turns back to Makuro after Zoya is done, "I don't know what it's like where you come from, but here we venerate the great Spirits, and afford their Chosen the respect they deserve. Your enemies came here to try to teach us the error of our ways, and my people broke their backs across our knee and left them to rot on the ice. Chosen here need never fear to proudly display their blessing. Even the settled people have not forgotten that much."

She looks at Zoya, "As for you, Sorcerer? You try to steal my soul and I'll end you, but you keep your magicks to yourself and we can come to an agreement, I think. The Spirits demand great feats of heroism worthy of song before I can return home. Your people are good at writing songs. I can hear them even now. I slay the horrors that stalk their nightmares, they please the Spirits in my name, and I get to go home. I leave your mountain of people better than I found it. You cross me, and I leave a mountain of rubble."

Makuro nodded at both women. "I see. Thank you for explaining things for me, you two." he said.

He then looked at the female Icewalker with a wry expression. "Sigrdrífa, was it? I believe I heard you shouting about something earlier. I trust everything is okay with you?"

[Hmm. If either of you want to try and change some of Makuro's Intimacies, you could add Charisma + Presence rolls to those posts, Esbilon and Random Word .]

He then stood up and looked at the others. "Under these circumstances, I think it only fair that I share more of what I can say with you all." he spoke. "As I said earlier, my name is Makuro. Specifically, Makuro Tehraihn. And like Toun here, I too am a Chosen of Luna. One of the Changing Moons, to be exact. I come from the Mountain of the Spider King, home and dominion of Aum-Ashatra. He is a Lunar of great age, wisdom and standing, and the one I am proud to have chosen as my shahan-ya, or mentor."

He looked at Zoya. "My goal has always been to serve the Silver Pact. That is, the alliance of all Lunars against our common enemy in the Realm. But as long as our interests align, I will aid you without reservation."

[Attempting an Instill against Zoya to create a Minor Tie of Trust towards Makuro, rolling Manipulation + Socialize and claiming one-point stunt to give me ten dice in total. Seven successes.]

 

[Esbilon]

Of all the things Zoya had imagined, being called out for stealing souls was not among them, and the reminder of what she did to Mira staggers her, forcing her to sit down once more. "I... I would never... will never do that. I have no designs on your soul. Either of them," she says earnestly to Sigrdrífa as she looks the woman directly into the eyes.

After taking a moment to steady herself, she looks to Makuro and says "I will be grateful for your help for as long as you will give it. And I hope that if ever those goals do not align you will let me know."

Spoiler: ooc

I'll activate Harmonious Presence Meditation since I'm not doing anything else with my Essence and this does matter to Zoya. Again assuming a rank 1 stunt, this gives me 15 dice.