The Listening Sky (second try)

Arynne

Arynne

Salmon of Doubt
Some time ago, I started a Solar/Lunar game called The Listening Sky, which took the PCs on a quest for a lost First Age manse. Unfortunately, I threw in too many D&D-style random encounters with monsters on the way there, then overcompensated by making the past-life dreams insistent to the point of railroading, and the and the whole thing got bogged down.


I'd like to start again from the beginning -- either streamlining the story and eliminating most of the monsters, or letting the characters have more freedom to roam around the jungle.


Any interest? Suggestions?
 
Good to hear. I'd be loath to toss out all of my maps, blueprints, character art, etc. :D
 
I'll express interest.


As far as suggestions go, it's fine if you want to have many encounters, just make sure that not all of them involve physical combat. Perhaps some can/must be dealt with through social combat, or other means. Avoiding them entirely is an option. Certainly, though, having lots of physical combat with Exalted's lethality is a problem unless the whole group is set up for physical paranoia combat.
 
I'd be interested in playing this. Might take a concept I had that didn't fit in most games as he was a bit to recognizable as a Solar.
 
Excellent.


I'm hoping for at least four players, and at least one Lunar.


The backstory is still that you've recently started experiencing dreams of a magnificent building deep in the Southeastern jungles, and every time you wake up, you feel utterly certain that you know exactly where this edifice is located, if you could just get there.


I'm not going to bother with long, long preludes for each character this time, unless someone specifically requests one. Players might wish to come up with the dreams on their own, instead, imagining what their First Age selves were like.
 
Colour me interested in your premise. Are you specifically limiting it to Solars and Lunars or are other Exalt types allowed?
 
Might I sacrifice a goat to Malfeas and get a shot at an Infernal, or is that pushing too far?
 
Well, I played in the first one, and was quite sad to see it disappear, so I am interested in trying it again!


(And Arynne takes too much of the blame; it was as much an issue of player-disappearance as anything else. We were totally just about to sneak into the really cool manse too!)
 
An Infernal would be theoretically possible, but you would have to have one Hell of a backstory, pardon the pun.


And when players disappear one by one, it's usually for a reason. :|
 
I have in mind a Twilight explorer with a Great Cat Familiar.

Pre-Exaltation, she was a skilled mortal assistant to a Prince of the Earth – Vermillion Wind - who specialised in making clockwork contraptions that he sold to rich Guild merchants or tithed to the Blessed Isle. Her parents had given her into the care of the Artisan as an indentured apprentice to teach his trade and ensure a better future for the family once she came of age. She was released from her apprenticeship as a journeyman throughout the Threshold; well on her way to becoming a Master, following the steps her life seemed to lay out before her.


Then Bao nu Shi entered her life and altered her destiny forever. Under the guise of an eccentric old merchant he caught the ear of the young woman and told her fantastic tales of a better time. Of a time when flying vehicles were common, homes were all temperature controlled, when the clockwork toys she laboured so hard to create were automatons that could think and act of their own volition. Bao nu Shi told her of the First Age. And of where such knowledge could be found. The tales spun of golden cloth shone behind her eyes and made her dream of what could be. Then she drew her Second Breath.
 
Infernal background!

Suffice it to say he came from an ugly background, a realm so brutal that he was never even gifted a name. All the same, he struggled and fought, a relentless urge to survive that carried him through that hell; a hell as true as anything the Yozi could throw at him. And when he rose to the heights of the that southern waste, what did he get for it? He had clawed and fought until he ruled all her surveyed, and soon enough he discovered that all his tribe had was a little patch of desert ground, a lot of nothing, and they had to fight tooth and nail to keep it from those fire-twisted men from even further south.


He led his people north. He led them to their graves.


And for all his violence as a nomad, for all his struggle all he did was writhe on the desert, cut down by sneering city-dwellers, his crusade, all his struggle, just a footnote in human history. If that.


Malfeas knows a thing or two about about leading your people to degradation and destruction. The pact seemed natural; for this power, you will lead the Yozi to liberation, and set right the wrong committed so long ago. To this end, Malfeas gifted him a wise coadjutor, training in the martial arts, strength and powerful weapons. Malfeas meant to make him a heroic general that would lead demonic armies across Creation.


But, as they so often do, the Yozi misjudged humanity. Their servant had lived his entire life crushing those who oppressed him, and who are the Yozi but the ultimate oppressors? As soon as he could, he left Malfeas, intending to return. He had a long list of things to do, a very, very long list. Once he'd spread fear and carnage among the people who slaughtered his village, he returned from the burning southern edge reflecting on how best to memorialize the tribe he once led, and then how to build a new one. Dreams of a First Age Manse seemed to provide a hint -- and far be it from him to ignore the portents of dreams!


Concept: Amoral Tribal Infernal
 
I'd love to play myself!


Can we get some more info about the background/themes?


EDIT: I think I'll go combat heavy with this... Likely a martial artist.
 
I think continually of those who were truly great.


Who, from the womb, remembered the soul’s history


Through corridors of light where the hours are suns


Endless and singing.


"Vanilla" Exalted/Walking the Earth. Travel the world (or a portion of it, at least), fight evil tyrants, help the hopeless and, hopefully, leave Creation better than you found it. I will steal shamelessly from any published settings or adventures and deviously alter them to fit my own wicked imagination. Keep playing long enough and we might even get to RotSE.


Near the snow, near the sun, in the highest fields


See how these names are fêted by the waving grass


And by the streamers of white cloud


And whispers of wind in the listening sky.


The names of those who in their lives fought for life


Who wore at their hearts the fire’s centre.


Born of the sun they traveled a short while towards the sun,


And left the vivid air signed with their honor.


The opening story involves the characters being brought together by dreams of a manse they once built -- but they are not the only Exalted to receive these dreams...
 
Color me interested. I could do a lunar thing or a solar thing. If a lunar it would probably be a changing moon (or maybe casteless if you want to open that can of worms).
 
I'm thinking of a horseman character. Something along the lines of Rath from Fire Emblem meets John Marston.
 
Well my idea was for a Zenith Solar. He was a gladiator in the south for a long time, eventually he won his freedom. He exalted when he caught site of a pair of dragon blooded killing off a lunar who had a daughter. He attacked to save them. He killed them both but not until the mother was dead upon the ground. Hearing the calls of the hunt he gathered the girl up and with the golden light shining ran into the desert. His luck was good and a sand storm arose. Keeping the child gathered he wen through it, his face getting even more torn apart. After miles in the storm and truly lost he found his way to a building that the wind had revealed. It was a tomb, his tomb from long ago.


Mind you that's just the short version. I'll make up my full character sheet when we get a page made up.
 
"Mother! Mother... Why did you forsake me?


I... My earliest memory.


Hands... Hands forcing me inside a metal cage, then the door slammed shut in my face.


I tried to bite the bars, I can still feel the taste of rust on my tongue..


I.. I didn't have the space to stretch an arm inside that thing.


Then they covered it in some black drape, kicked the cage twice because I was crying madly... and that was it.


Everything was always dark in the Shadowland, but that day just seemed darker."


The deep scars that make the entirety of the man's face cringe in an attempt to smile.


The woman rises an eyebrow.


"This is what you get for worshiping the dead... No respect for those alive!


Dangerous folk, if you ask me."


At the thought of the cults, the man just looks aside, pulling teeth for a moment.


When he relaxes, he looks somehow embarrassed.


"Thank you for... Accepting me..."


Her expression becomes of tenderness, and her right hand caresses the bulging muscles on his bare chest.


Even there most of the skin forms scars, some long, some wide, some deep.


She laughs.


"Ahahah! You really look awful, sweetie, but I can assure you, I did worse.


It's my job, and so far you have been so much nicer than any of my usual clients.


There is a heart of gold behind these scars.


...


Your past still burdens you.


Please go on."


The scars that compose his face attempt another smile, then his expression darkens again.


"I... I saw a mother sacrificed along with her child.


Their stare, their cry... Their faces haunt me to this very day.


I had always gone along the rituals, just for habit, just because it was what everyone was doing.


But after that day, I refused to pray.


No priest, no friend, no parent could convince me that what I saw that day was righteous.


Yes, this is what happened.


I hated them, I cursed them, I assaulted them... And ended up in a cage.


When the cage opened, I become slave labor in the iron mines.


I don't think I was even eight...


Didn't pass too long before I attacked one of the guards with the pickaxe.


Death is a blessing, and they wanted to make a point about the pain of life...


I spent... I have no clue how much isolated in a cell, tortured, abused, broken...


As soon as they got me back in the mine, I ripped the throat off the guard with my bare teeth.


Kill me already you wretched bastards...


Yeah.


They didn't.


An army officer took notice of me, and put me together with the new recruits, to amuse his master.


Have you ever heard of the Withering Archon of One-Hundred Silent Murders?


A Deathknight.


She.. Taught us."


The words come slow and painful from the man's mouth.


"The.. The things she had us do... I..


And the enthusiasm with which we did them.


It wasn't barely... killing..."


His mouth twitches in an expression of stuck fear.


A single tear rivets down along a scar.


"I wouldn't do.. All of it, and once more they made an example of me... Just if you are wondering where all the scars come from...


That.. monster, had her fun...


I was on the verge of death but, honestly, better die than give them the satisfaction of breaking me.


Then.. It was strange, and exhilarating at the same time.


My soul spoke to me.


You fought the darkness like no others.


By My will.


Let after the darkness, a new Dawn rise.


Then everything went red.


I think I took her by surprise... I think my arms shattered the shackles when they shoot forward to grab her.


When I recovered control of myself, her arms had been ripped away from her body, her head reduced to a pulp against the wall.


I tore down the door, crushed it against the guard just outside it, slammed the head of the second guard on the floor...


It was at dawn when I left from the main gate of the fortress.


My arms were soaked up the shoulder in blood, and for once it was not mine.


I left only corpses behind me, such abominations did not deserve to live.


It was horrible, yet liberating.


Do you even know how does it feel to have the reek of the blood of hundreds of men on your body?"


"Uh, something like that... Ehm, but it wasn't blood..."


"..."


"Oh, relax now, you spoke already for hours.


I won't let you leave this room without giving you your... due."


Name: Unwise forsaken


Concept: Unbreakable rebel


Motivation: Purge the cults of the ancestors from Creation
 
I'm always happy to help a new DM, so I think I'll throw in my hat.


Name: Fortuna


Caste: Night


Concept: Unwilling Robin Hood


Motivation: Gather the largest treasure hoard in Creation

The gold glinted in the firelight. So pretty... Soooo pretty... Fortuna sniffled self-pitiously, rolling the coin's ridges back and forth slowly beneath her finger. It was the only one that'd survived the journey...


"Oh, cheer up already, would you?" Lothian said with a roll of his eyes, the burly, bearded man looking down at his whimpering accomplice. "Tonight, we took down a mean bastard, and made a lot of people happy. Can't you just be happy about that for once?" He asked. Fortuna just continued to snivel, cringing at the mention of the night that she'd survived.


"S'not bloody fair..." She mewled, continuing to roll the coin, pressing her cheek into the side of the table. The heist had gone so well, and they'd been just getting free when she had thought, perhaps, the curse was lifted. The treasure was loaded in the wagon, they'd set off, and it seemed they were home and away...


"Oh, c'mon. We always get by, don't we?" Lothian reminded her, smiling down at his smaller companion. She was transfixed on that coin. "And good things always come from it. Like that time in Westcroft, when we robbed that pirate?" He reminded her.


"Yeah... We were sailing away and then the Realm Navy arrived and confiscated the ship..." She answered, starting to pout a little. They'd been so close, riding around that winding road up the side of the cliff...


"But that pirate got caught, didn't he? And they gave us enough supplies to last ourselves a while." He said with a nod of his head. "And what about that time near the Isle, when we stole that antique sword from Lao? He was as corrupt as all-outdoors. Turned out to be an akuma. We fought right alongside a group of Immaculate monks to bring him down." He said cheerfully, before pausing to take a long sip of his ale. Perhaps it was just the fireplace burning, but he felt as if he could still remember the smell of that Fire Aspect's breath...


"And they broke the sword doing it. Thing was worthless after." She complained. If only that cliff hadn't crumbled, or if she'd been faster reaching for the bag when the wagon bucked...


"Look, can't you just be happy about doing a good deed for once?" Lothian asked critically, to no answer. "Those people needed that gold far more than you or me."


Suddenly, she was gazing through the coin. Tears came to Fortuna's eyes as she remembered them. All of them falling through the air, their faces frozen as they drifted away from her in the darkness... So precious, those beautiful... Beautiful, minted coins. She could only imagine them raining down on the village below, lining the streets and the pockets of those people, instead of her own.


"So, come on! Buck up!" Lothian barked, slapping her on the back. Fortuna jolted. It slipped. She reached out to try and grab it, but, once again, she missed. She watched it flash as it spiralled, falling through the air, landing with a soft clink...


... In the cup of a toothless old beggar.


"Oh! Oh, thank you! Much obliged, ma'am! Now I can eat for a month!" The man in tattered robes declared cheerfully, to the stunned young woman, dancing out the tavern door with a gleeful and joyous laugh, as his life took a sudden and surprising upturn. Fortuna watched, stunned, as her last golden shiny treasure was merrily jigged out of her life.


Slowly, she turned to look at Lothian.


It was at this point that Lothian chose to run.
 
Once there was a time when my axe was for trees. Those days passed with my son and my wife, lain aside their cairns with runes to protect them on their last journey. The moon shone brightly upon us that night, those few who remained from the attack. When the wolves came for me, glistening with silver hair, I knew I had to go. Had they seen the smoke rising up from our village, or had they found me by more mystic means? It matters not now, I suppose. I didn't understand why they were sent to guide me then, but somehow I knew to follow. Bidding the last of our clan farewell, I followed the pack deep into the snowy pines. I lived for weeks as they did, climbing into the foothills of the mountains. It was there I found the Bridge.


Made of purest crystal, it shone under the moonlight, now full again. It led across a ravine so deep I could see no bottom, to a single silver tree. I crossed it alone, the pack ranging behind me in the snow. As i stepped back onto stone at the other end, a single howl burst forth from them, melding into a song more beautiful than I had ever heard. I felt as though their spirits filled me, their strength and will becoming mine. My eyes were filled with the glory of the moon and her children that hunted under it, and only then did I understand: they had not guided me here. I had done so myself. She had chosen me, and my own unbreakable will, my indomitable strength, had seen me through. I had crossed that bridge a mortal, but now I was something more: I was Exalted.


As I reveled in my newfound power, a single shining ray of moonlight rested upon my brow, engraving itself upon my head for all to see her glory. I wept then, my final tears. Joy, sadness, and a profound sense of belonging all filled me. The tears dripped down, crystallizing as they fell from my face. Blessed by Her light, they formed themselves anew in the image of my old axe, now itself blessed by Her light. Hefting Her gift to me I turned to see the tree split itself in two. From it stepped a white lady, the very person of the Moon. I kneeled, for her glory was too great for me to bear. She took me up by my arms, hands weaving sigils into my skin. They formed into braces of purest moonlight. Touching my mail, it took on her glow as well. Without a word, she simply nodded as I hefted up my axe again, gifting me with a single vision: a great manse, far larger than any longhouse or hut my people had built, formed from fabulous metals more awesome than any I had seen. It was to be my quest.


I strode forth that day a new man. All who attack the weak will know the bite of my axe, and all who grind the small folk under their heel will find themselves with no place to hide.


I am man. I am wolf. I am Ulfir.
 
So mighty ST, do you have enough players that meet your choosing? Do you require more detail from me regarding my character?
 
I have an embarassment of riches! :D


More detail would definitely be a good thing. That goes for everybody who hasn't fleshed out their character here yet.
 
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