[Shatter the Circle] Nexus 1:0 - Invocation & Invitation of Fates Intertwined

Sol cocks his head as Wolf speaks. "You're not from around here, are you, Miss? I haven't heard that dialect spoken by a live person before. Some recordings in ruins from several centuries back, but as far as I know, everyone who speaks like that is dead."


He looks her up and down, takes note of the name: The Wolf at World's Edge. A deed-name, so she must have gone to the edge of Creation and stayed there long enough for it to become part of her identity, become her identity. What was so special about the edge of the world?


Well. Creation was bordered by the Wyld. And she called herself a wolf. And there was one main class of being that cavorted in the jaws of madness with the chimeric minions of chaos...


Chosen of Luna, then? We are in exalted company indeed...


He chuckles to himself at the horrible pun he just made. It was that or smack himself in the face for being so incredibly bad.


"Nar Naz is a man with a measure of power," he explains to Wolf. "The natural use of power is subjugation and self-aggrandizement. Nar Naz seems to have that well in hand, along with dominion over the unquiet spirits of the dead. He has a necromancer on his side, but I don't know whether said necromancer can work the black miracles of the Underworld or if he simply practices the Art of the Dead. Personally, I was hoping to take my measure of the man before passing judgement, but honestly, I'd rather re-educate than decapitate."

JayTee said:
Misuro frowned at the wolf's declaration. "Let's try to not endanger any more people than have to. Most of the city's residents are just victims." He said, before turning and greeting Sol. "The party is just getting started, follow me if you insist on joining, I'm about to track down a runner."
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"Perhaps I could help," Sol suggests. "I've spent quite some time on the streets and I could try and get the truth out of people in the know. "
 
JayTee said:
Misuro frowned at the wolf's declaration. "Let's try to not endanger any more people than have to. Most of the city's residents are just victims." He said, before turning and greeting Sol. "The party is just getting started, follow me if you insist on joining, I'm about to track down a runner."
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The Wolf gives Misuro a patient, if somewhat exasperated sigh. "Whether or not I carry out my declaration, Thief-thing, is immaterial. He cannot risk the possibility that I might."

[QUOTE="Silent Wayfarer]Sol cocks his head as Wolf speaks. "You're not from around here, are you, Miss? I haven't heard that dialect spoken by a live person before. Some recordings in ruins from several centuries back, but as far as I know, everyone who speaks like that is dead."

[/QUOTE]
"Evidently, you were mistaken. And no, I am not from this...place." Sol has never heard "place" pronounced as if it were a curse word.

"Nar Naz is a man with a measure of power," he explains to Wolf. "The natural use of power is subjugation and self-aggrandizement. Nar Naz seems to have that well in hand, along with dominion over the unquiet spirits of the dead. He has a necromancer on his side, but I don't know whether said necromancer can work the black miracles of the Underworld or if he simply practices the Art of the Dead. Personally, I was hoping to take my measure of the man before passing judgement, but honestly, I'd rather re-educate than decapitate."
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Wolf gives him a puzzled look, as if wondering why he felt the need to explain any of this to her. That he was a man with a measure of power, and had a talent for necromancy - or employed one who did - was self-evident.


"The measure of the man? He raises the dead in his service. He keeps this quarter of the city in squalor, those beneath him terrified. His measure has already been taken."
 
"Then shall we depart? Ghosts are hard enough to track without giving them a head start"
 
I need either Perc + Survival or Perc + Awareness -- and it will have to be a *good* roll for tracking a ghost through walls.
 
CrazyIvan said:
"Evidently, you were mistaken. And no, I am not from this...place." Sol has never heard "place" pronounced as if it were a curse word.
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"Evidently I was, and evidently you're not. You've come a long way, it seems. Perhaps we could discuss this later.

Wolf gives him a puzzled look, as if wondering why he felt the need to explain any of this to her. That he was a man with a measure of power, and had a talent for necromancy - or employed one who did - was self-evident.
"The measure of the man? He raises the dead in his service. He keeps this quarter of the city in squalor, those beneath him terrified. His measure has already been taken."
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"So have countless others throughout the Age of Sorrows and before. Like I said, the natural use of power is oppression and self-enrichment. I want to see if he is ignorant of this fact, or if he has embraced it. Even the latter can be a... teachable moment. But we have wasted enough time here, I believe."

JayTee said:
"Then shall we depart? Ghosts are hard enough to track without giving them a head start"
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"A ghost? You didn't tell me there was a ghost abroad. One moment..."


Sol rummages around for salt; surely one who worked with the undead knew enough to keep some salt to ward their colleagues off! Failing that, he'll just have to grab some along the way. While he's working, he considers several things. Tracking a ghost was considered impossible... impossible to those who didn't know how. You couldn't see one directly, but you could sense their wake; a fleeing ghost would not consider avoiding the mass of humanity in its flight, and the touch of an incorporeal spirit sent a thrill through the body, as though someone had plucked the heartstrings.


So - he wouldn't try and spot it directly, just follow the trail of alarmed and confused people. But where to start looking? Hmm... Mr. Not A Dynast was looking at a certain wall before he entered. Perhaps... perhaps he'd felt something go past him and through the wall.


"I think I've got it," Sol says, as he channels power into his fists and feet, and then with a grunt of effort, he launches himself straight up, uppercutting clean through the ceiling until he breaks through the roof and lands upon it. He quickly re-orients himself to face the wall that the ghost had presumably fled through. From his superior vantage point, he's better able to observe the street and the movements of its people... and perhaps better track the wake of the fleeing ghost.


He looks down through the hole to Wolf and Misuro.


"Come on, the game's afoot!" he says excitedly.

zwZ3EH0.jpg



Sol rolls to make a Fierce Blow (+1 difficulty, +3B or 2L/A damage) through the ceiling, using Sledgehammer Fist Punch (1m) and Fists of Iron Technique (1m) to support this. Dex 5 MA 5 Spec 3 Acc 3 Stunt 2 = 18 dice.


[dice]4775[/dice]


Walls have DVs of 0, so spillover successes of 8. Raw damage is 8 sux + 3 Strength + 5 Smashfist + 3 Fierce Blow +2 FoIT = 21. Sledgehammer Fist Punch doubles this, and makes it ignore soak. 42 bashing damage after soak ought to be enough to destroy a fortress gate or brick wall in one hit.


After that, he makes his Perception + Awareness roll to observe the crowds. Perception 5 + Awareness 5 + Spec 3 + Stunt 2 = 15 dice.


[dice]4777[/dice]


7 successes too.
 
Misuro watches the reactions of the fleeing guards, and with a quick lunge, can see them run down separate corridors, and the way they angle themselves to run around the next set of corners. While he has no idea if the ghost has veered off in a different direction, he can make a guess as to where the guards are headed, and they might lead him to Nar Naz, too.


One way or another.


Then the other guy squats, leaps, and punches a hole through the roof hard enough to launch himself up above, lands lightly and calls down.


The support beams groan, and old brick begins to crumble, the corridors now crumpled, and shoddy, heavy masonry falling past the Wolf's and Misuro's heads! Leaving would be prudent.


Even the roof is a bit iffy - there's a shudder throughout the buildings next to this one, as weight-loads readjust.


Sol has a decent view - it's hard to spot people on the ground in this maze of alleys - and many more people are spooked by an exploding roof than by the subtle traces of a ghost - but people startled by the exploding roof are looking up, while those who just had a ghost go through them jump to the side and shiver.


Looks like the ghost is making for the docks as the raiton flies.
 
Misuro all but facepalmed as Sol jumped through the roof. "Goddamnit, that idiot is going to get the Immaculates on us all." Exiting the building as fast as he could, following the trail towards the docks.
 
"Hm," Sol muses. Heading to the docks was consistent with the observation from earlier today that had the dockhands showing up to be Nar Naz's muscle. So he was probably on the waterfront. Made sense, kind of. Although, this meant he was actively using ghosts, and Sol needed some way to deal with that. Either thaumaturgical formulations, or Bright Morning - and he'd need to get them fast.

So, what does Sol roll to see if he can get something to see or punch ghosts? I was envisioning something like running along awnings, snatching up ingredients and mixing them up on the fly so he has something to snort/apply/etc. by the time he catches up.
 
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A ghost she could not follow - but then, she need not follow a ghost, did she? A ship could be tracked by its wake, a doe by her hoof prints - and the ghost by the discomfort that trailed it like a banner.


She shed her form, despite the familiar comfort of it, it was ill-suited for this wretched city. She belonged on the battlefields of the Wyld, not here, but for now, this chase would suffice. Lagging behind the two figures along with her for a brief moment, she ducked out of sight and was gone.


A small, swift falcon arced upward, seeking prey.
 
[media]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_BO7PkyzNBg[/media]


That leaves Misuro to haul ass out of a collapsing slum, cursing his luck - once again, all he desired was a quiet place to drink and forget for a few hours, and instead, here he is, leaping out of hole in a collapsing ceiling caused by a fellow he's only glancing met in a dive bar. Not to mention that wolf-spirit-thing ... oh. She or it is gone. Again.


Life refuses to get less exciting - time to surprise it. Or some poor sucker on the other end, anyways.


With a short run, he vaults up, kicking a falling beam out of the way, and catches the lay of the land as he readies himself for landing. That other fellow is already sprinting across the roofs, leaping and zig-zagging like a hound on the trail, and hey, he's running in the vague direction everyone else and their ancient grandmother has, so might as well hit the docks and bring up the rear of this crazy parade!


---


Sol is positive he's gaining ground on that ghost, but the damned thing has a huge head start, and every time it shoots through a building, he loses precious fractions of a second confirming where it's going. It's not totally stupid - it isn't traveling in a straight line - but neither has it changed course by greater than 90 degrees at any time. And every time it shoots into a building and then doesn't make a large turn confirms that this quadrant is definitely its intended destination.


---


The Falcon has no trouble spotting prey and the Distractions. The prey is but a ghost, a meager crumb of a leftover meal. The Distractions - they are something else. They follow the meager ghost as eagerly as the fox after a mouse.


And few mice can hide from a falcon on the wing.


---


The last visibly disturbed mortals are a clump of men lounging outside a warehouse right on the docks of the River - far too well armed to be dock-hands. They look like the nastiest of street rats, more than one of them rabid, all dredged up and slightly appeased with food and alcohol, but bored, dangerously so. They shudder, leap to their feet, look about for prey - or worse, for fun.


Moments pass, as the two men make their leaps, land adjacent, an alley between them as they look down at the gang of men below - a rough baker's dozen now, coming out of the woodwork like a disturbed hornet's nest. Those below haven't spotted them, but give a few seconds, and one of them will think to look up.


The falcon sees all this, and also spots an overturned skiff bob up upon the oily waters - looks like something dislodged it from a wreck below water? Faint ripples, and it drifts faster than the current away from shore.
 
The street rats will be slaughtered in turn, as they always are - she has faced Cataphracts and teeming hosts of Goblins at the service of their nobles and torn them apart by the dozen. A few jumped up noble thugs would prove entertaining sport once she had disemboweled her true target, one who would surround themselves with such an unworthy shield, like tissue paper around a Calibration gift.


The boat however - that proved interesting. This Nar Naz had proven himself a coward once, dealing with intermediaries far afield - why should he not prove a coward again? Such a boat would make a distasteful escape, but an escape none the less.


The falcon dove, gaining speed, and then became the Wolf again, her war form plunging into the overturned skiff with staggering speed.
 
Sol looks to Misuro, then down at the thugs below them, then at Misuro again. He mouths, "Are we going through these clowns, or what?"
 
The two crouched on gutters above thugs give even odds that in the next few seconds, one of the thugs will look up. The question is - what will the other guy do?

Sol looks to Misuro' date=' then down at the thugs below them, then at Misuro again. He mouths,[i'] "Are we going through these clowns, or what?"[/i]
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A raptor plunges towards a fish, beyond the warehouse; this is instantly processed into an omen of "hunter surprises prey", as naturally as breathing.


Then there is an odd splintering sound, as of a cannonball hitting a dummy target, and the two men spot small shards of wood splaying out from behind the warehouse - much as if a target dummy was hit by cannon fire.


---


The Wolf slams into the skiff - really a glorified row-boat - and as oily water splurts high, sees six men - one rather rank with death, all heavily muscled and armed (but not armored, that stuff sinks).


Yet, the Wolf knows the Alpha - the one in the middle not supporting the wooden skiff, clutching a large waxen leather pouch, is the important one.

The Wolf may act as she chooses, killing and maiming as she desires. Describe as you like.


The Solars may also act as they choose - all you know is that you saw a favorable divination, and then it sounded like someone was doing target practice on the river behind the warehouse. One or more of the thugs will think of looking up, shortly, but you are free to act; for example, you could get the drop on them and narrate your victory, or you could narrate and then roll for Stealth (neither of you have it favored, so roll it if you want to use it), or vault over to the warehouse roof and take a gander at what's going on over there.
 
"Let's not be a pair of psychopaths." Muttered Misuro to Sol, watching the dockworkers as something slammed in to the far boat. "Assess the situation, see what they find most valuable, who they're trying to protect. We're looking for Nar Naz, so anything or anyone precious will likely lead us to him."
 
"Oh, that's rich," Sol says. "Remind me again; which of us was standing over a freshly-slain corpse with a daiklave in hand?"


Still, no point in not being ready for a fight, Sol thinks as he assumes the Solar Hero Form. Judging by the way Misuro was moving, he wasn't a Dragon-Blood either, and if the transforming falcon was any indication, they had a Lunar on the scene.


So yeah, I'm in good company.





His attention is drawn by the small explosion behind the warehouse, and he glances to Misuro. "Sounds like trouble. Let's go check it out."


Without waiting for a reply, he leaps over to the vicinity of the disturbance, staying on the roof to preserve his height advantage.

Sol has MLT and Solar Hero Form active, and will be throwing up Panopticon Fusion Discipline as well. Ready to fight!
 
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"Go on, I'm going to stay here and make sure none escape." Replied Misuro as Sol took off. He also wanted to make sure that whoever was in charge stayed alive long enough for Misuro to interrogate them. However, he had no idea who was in charge, so he would wait and see who was barking orders before he moved in on the scene himself.
 
The Wolf is not an aquatic predator, but the water is shallow enough for a man to stand in, the fetid bottom of the river firm enough to support her weight. One she does not even bother to strike - a chunk of wood the size of an elegant lady's letter opener juts from his neck, and weak, nerveless fingers clutch uselessly at it. He will be dead within moments, and she has no desire to waste energy on such a doomed thing.


A clawed foot eviscerated one beneath the water, the polluted fluid turning frothy white and then deep red as his guts spilled into the river. Another lost his neck to her jaws, his eyes wide with shock as there was suddenly a ragged gap where there should be none. Two others were torn apart with her claws, a satisfying act as moonsilver daggers dug through flesh.


The dead creature merited her full attention, and was broken into half a dozen pieces before she was through with it, before finally her claws closed over the leader, holding his head in her grasp and lifting him bodily from the water.


"Your name, and purpose."
 
The man lifted by his head from the water must make a Valor check:

http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/4457349/ and succeeds. I won't post results of all rolls, but here it doesn't matter than you know his Valor is 2.
The man coughs, sputters, filthy water and the gore of his men running down his body. He starts to writhe and immediately stops - necks are rather fragile pieces of the human body. "N-n-n-Nar Naz, district boss," he finally spits out, gaping at the Wolf. "I've paid my dues! Don't kill me! Who have I been so wretchedly unlucky to offend?"


He's used to violence, and probably didn't care overly much about his retinue; one burbles out and collapses under the water, still clutching his neck, and another is howling in agony and terror, trying to hold his guts inside his ruined body, but Nar Naz spares not a glance for them, eyes locked on the Wolf gripping him by his head.
 
The Wolf looks at him, her gaze even and strangely calm, holding no anger despite the violence just committed.


"Luna."





She is not, however, without mercy. The dying man, trying to hold his guts in, dies with a swift snap of his neck as she wades out of the water, her grip shifting the Nar Naz's neck as she hauls him out of the water like a drowned puppy.
 
The Wolf stalks back onto land, effortlessly dragging Nar Naz - who has somehow managed to keep hold of the leather case. "Please," he says hoarsely, fumbling with the latch of the case. "All my savings, happily, to Luna."


He clearly has no idea who Luna is, and is wracking his brains trying to remember.


The last of the bodies slump into the froth of the slow-moving river; this is inside the harbors of Nexus, where the Great rivers have been artificially slowed, and how much is water and how much is tar, effluvia, tanning and dying runoff, and other untreated wastes of the city, it's hard to say. Things stir slowly to the surface only sink back into the stinking goop; spits of wood, bits of rope, the occasional body-part. Foul gases frequently bubble to the surface.


So it is at first that Sol believes this latest violence has dislodged a floater from the bottom, as more bubbles burst upon the surface, and a bit of an arm pokes up.


Then far too wide an expanse of the "river" begins to boil, with arms and legs and spines and half-eaten skulls and -


- and some chimera of the dead pulls itself up out of the sludge, silent except for the snapping of rotting tendons and the plop of muck and flesh dropping off back into the effluvia.


There must be a good eighty-odd bodies in the mess - Sol's counted, and suspects he's off by about three give-or-take.


The weak sun sends slanting rays through Nexus skyline, the light feeble and orange through the haze of smoke, faintly tracing the rearing, tottering monstrosity of former people, now bracing itself like a standing carpet against the warehouse.


"Release him!" croaks from a half-century of eaten vocal cords and chipped teeth, stumps of tongues.

Spoiler name says it all - Join Battle. Unless for some reason you want to parley with the Big Dead Thing, in which case, talk it out, but after you roll Join Battle.
 
Misuro cursed as Nar Naz was almost dismembered by the rampaging Lunar (for what else could she be, speaking like that?) He needed him alive, for now, his premature death would cause nothing but a power vacuum. While it wouldn't be hard to take advantage of it, it would be easier if there was a functioning organization for him to just take over.


He cursed even louder when the abomination showed up. Apparently it was backing our little crimeboss. Dispensing with subtlety, Misuro pulled his blade off his back and leapt down to join the Lunar and the creature.


OOC


join battle check, 8 dice for 2 successes


So we're fighting



;)
 
"Whoa, that's a big, uh, whatever that is," Sol says, turning his attention to the gigantic mountain of corpses emerging from the river.


Some kind of... super-zombie? It's capable of speech, and it's defending Nar Naz... so what kind of power does he have over it?


Sol crouches down, studying the monster. He's suddenly glad that the strange hawk-wolf Lunar is distracting it on his behalf, because it's ugly as hell and reeks of the crap dredged from the bottom of the river. He doesn't even want to think about touching or biting it, which is what the Lunar is going to have to do if it wants to fight that thing. He swallows his rising bile and forces himself to focus; large scale monstrosities like this weren't found outside a Deathlord's arsenal, and there weren't any noticeable shadowlands in Nexus. But did that mean Nar Naz was a deathlord's pawn?

First off, Join Battle: Wits 2 + Awareness 5 gives 7 dice, or 3 successes.


[dice]4939[/dice]


Then, Perception + Awareness, to get details on it. Perception 5 + Awareness 5 + Spec 3 + Stunt 2 + Excellency 4 gives 19 dice, or 9 successes.


[dice]4940[/dice]


Then, using the observations from the previous roll, Sol racks his brain to see if he's encountered something like this before in his studies. Intelligence 5 + Occult/Lore 5 + Stunt 2 + Excellency 4 gives 16 dice or 13 successes.


[dice]4941[/dice]


[/sblock]
 
Tobin's Spirit Guide: Technically you need a Medicine or Craft roll, but I'm not blowing off rolls with 9 and 13 successes respectively. There are a few wrinkles you'll miss, but not many.


The bodies haven't been haphazardly thrown together, nor nailed nor lashed together. They've been reconnected using massive amounts of tendons, some of which must have been treated against decay - they're a different color than the other exposed parts, and not one of them has snapped. Even more curious, it looks like the bodies have been selected for size and weight, the bulkiest making up the inner/under parts, and the delicate being out on the edges. All have been modified; the inner ones have had their ribcage cracked open, the lungs appear to have been treated and retained, along with the stomach, heart, intestines, and bladder (and uteri, where they exist). All other organs are missing.


You can tell this, because the rib cages are flexing open and shut, like clasping and grasping fingers.


The outer appendages have had bones and tendons added, along with treated skin - they appear to be flippers or like the fold of skin on various gliding rodents.


Wracking your brains, this thing isn't like all the descriptions you've heard of the war-monstrosities of the underworld, nor like the bone-centipedes that attacked Thorns. This has been designed with something else in mind, and represents the art of Necro-crafting turned to a different cause.


Of course, it still looks plenty capable of wrecking an army's day.


All massive constructs like this are thought to be controlled by a powerful ghost of some kind - or multiple ghosts lashed together and trapped in their decaying bodies.


As for Nar Naz - one look at him and it's obvious he had no idea about this. He's clawing and scrambling to run away, completely and utterly terrified. That doesn't indicate if he was or wasn't a pawn, per se.


[dice]4954[/dice]
 
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Wolf ignores the babbling merchant-thug as he drags him from the water, her interest in him now mostly sated, dumping him unceremoniously on the ground.


"The Dragon Blood and the Thief-thing wish you alive, and so you will live for now."


Then the mass of corpses, strung together like a very impressive puppet, and the Wolf quirks her head to the side, the curious expression of a predator who has perhaps found something worth hunting. Nar Naz is pinned down by a taloned foot, and she growls down at him.


"Run, and I will find you. I will strip the muscles from you one by one, and you will die in unspeakable pain."


Trusting that either the threat, or paralyzing fear will keep him in place, and if not...well, she did make him a promise. And then she turns, regarding the creation more fully. The dead were not so clever the last time she walked Creation. Never one to back down from a fight, she stalks forward, a challenging growl emerging from her throat.

Wits 3 + Awareness 3 = 4,10,6,7,6,2 = 3
 
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