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To Kill a Primordial - IC

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Hunger Clad in Eight Broken Chains smirks. The others think he's stupid, but they're still using his plan.

They see him as a brute with no impulse control, not realizing that he acts the way he does because he can. And why shouldn't he? The Deathlords are the only ones capable of restraining him and other than making an extremely short list of things not to do they're happy to let him rampage as he pleases.

This Primordial they're supposed to kill might be stronger than him, but so what? It was the job of the rest of the circle to come up with a way to kill it anyway, if they failed Hunger Clad in Eight Broken Chains wouldn't be blamed since they were supposed to be the smart ones. His previous self had died because of absurd expectations, he'd never let himself be bound that way again.

He brings however many units of warghosts he can get from the Nightmares of War with him, riding on a luxurious wagon (that his massive body takes up most of) as his troops are forced to walk or ride. He's in a good enough mood that he doesn't eat any of his troops on the days-long trip, preferring to nap.

Hunger Clad in Eight Broken Chains moves to be first through the portal, decked out in his full regalia and ready to spread death.
 
Deathbringer will follow along in an elegant wooden carriage adorned on either side with wrought iron and soulsteel sconces lit by pale pyreflames. Pained faces rise to the surface of the metal as the flames atop them dance hypnotically, calling out the blessings of the Void to all passerbys who witness the ethereal illumination.

The Midnight caste is accompanied on the trip by his familiar floating charred skull Anu-Fahim and two of his dark priests, leaving the other three priests behind to manage his affairs in Ahm Bayîs. Additionally, a small group of soldiers and acolytes drawn from the ranks of the Black Sashes of Entropy also attend their dark herald, following along in a few simple wagons to do his bidding
 
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The knight needed no large retinue, for goal of this trip wasn’t to spread death and destruction. He could do that later when he burrowed his way in to hearts of the outsider and flung open the gates of their fortresses. No, the knight only brought enough servants to tend to his great steed and attend to menial tasks.

Leading his smaller procession he sung a jaunty little tune.

“Five deaths marched from the black abyss. To the sunny world above for things had gone amiss. Life had grown too abundant like garden left untended. So shears in hand they set forth to prune it with a hoard of ghosts they’d befriended. But arrogant dragons, brightfaced kings and now golems of metal stood in their way. Grown fat and arrogant on life, but the five deaths would have their day. Dragons would be slain, brightfaces extinguished and golems smelted into tools. All who challenge death know it not but they are the greatest of fools!”
 
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Voice will try to stay in the saddle of some random undead horse with her lack of riding skill. She will travel with her spell guardian of flame hovering around her head in silent watch for some random arrow heading her way.

Once at the graveyard, she looks around for any signs that the area has been changed in any way. If things look clear, she will make her way through the shadowland into Creation.
 
The Scion makes the journey astride her throne on the back her many-legged bone behemoth. Behind her marches her talon (125) of four-armed skeletal war constructs, half again as tall as a man, carrying immense bows and slashing swords, marching in perfect serried ranks of five. It takes them minutes to march single file through the wound in Creation, and the behemoth contorts itself like an octopus to fit through the small space.
 
The Knight looks back at his death kin with something of a confused expression.

"I assumed we were heading out to gather information and THEN attack. Why are the lot of you bringing so many of your followers for fighting?"
 
Voice replies, “It is a small, albeit effective force. Consider it an honor guard, because while they look fierce, if there is a battle right now we would be sizably outmatched by the sheer numbers we are up against.”
 
"I assumed we were heading out to gather information and THEN attack. Why are the lot of you bringing so many of your followers for fighting?"
Hunger Clad in Eight Broken Chains stretches and shrugs.

"War ghosts don't need food. They'll just wait here until I tell them to fight if need be."

He turns around and faces his troops.

"Right?"

There's an immediate shout of agreement from war ghosts who know what Hunger Clad in Eight Broken Chains's response will be to any protests.
 
Deathbringer and his meager force of followers (a couple dozen soldiers and a dozen acolytes) made their way slowly through the slim passage into Creation, taking time to observe their surroundings and note natural defensive bulwarks. The Abyssal instructed his lieutenant, a skilled and loyal ghost-blooded captain named Lahk'na, to take a group of soldiers and begin evaluating the graveyard to establish a series defensive emplacements.

He addressed The Knight's question. "If we do not bring loyal servants along, how else would we guarantee our staging location remains ours in the case of unexpected difficulties? We will need defensive positions, foxholes and trenches to start, carved along the tombstones." The deathknight chuckled, a sinister and raspy sound, "and I certainly don't intend to grab a spade myself..."
 
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Cuckoo didn't take any of the mounts offered. He simply hid himself amongst the troops the others brought along. If there was anyone watching this army moving, they would see one less Abyssal. One didn't survive long without taking precautions, even if the others might think it cowardly, or stupid.
He didn't think these invaders from Autochthon would be monitoring the Underworld, but he was pretty certain that the other Deathlords would have spies and their own troops and Abyssals out and about.
 
"Fair, fair and fair." The Knight said in response to the answers of his brothers. "I'll admit I'm not the most tactical minded fighter on this level. My life before my blessed by our masters was that of the fighter and champion not the general. If we are to make war on these people I'll have to change that post haste. Has anyone heard of gateway? I was never much a fan but I've heard it hones the edge of the mind towards war. I'll have to procure a set myself when the opportunity arises."
 
As the armed forces begin to spread out under the control of their Abyssal masters and digging in and making defensive positions around the shadowland, the Exalts of the group can smell the distinct aroma of smoke on the air, but this smoke smells a little - off. It is not the typical wood smoke that you are accustomed to, but something different, making it a little harder to breathe for you but not enough to impair your actions.

As dawn slowly approaches, you can see in the light of the sunrise that there is a bit of haze in the air. With more light you can see that the smoke is thicker to the west of you, where the invaders are supposed to be based out of. A rough estimate puts you maybe fifteen to twenty miles out from the plume of smoke.

What do you do now?
 
Cuckoo emerges, for the first time since they set on this journey, from amongst the troops, and sends a quick message to Voice. "I believe it's time for me to start the reconnaissance." He does wait around for a reply. After all, this is supposed to be a team effort, though he'd not trust any of the others to be stealthy.
 
Hunger Clad in Eight Broken Chains nods.

"Bring back someone to question. Someone with meat on their bones."

He holds up the artifact chopsticks Scion of the House of Bone and Ash made for him. He'll keep the benefit he got from eating the Solar's tongue with them, but any memories he could glean from consuming one of Autochthon's citizens might be useful.
 
Deathbringer leaves his elaborate travelling tent, decked in his normal dark cloak and followed shortly behind by the floating charred skull Anu-Fahim. The deathknight sought to confer with Scion of the House of Bone and Ash. The strange smoke on the air left him at a loss for answers, and he thought perhaps the enigmatic tinkerer might have a more informed take on the situation.

If he finds her, he greets her cordially and attempts to broach the subject of the mysterious smoke plaguing their site and originating out of the West. If he is unable to find her, or she rebuffs his advances to speak, he will instead find Lahk'na and demand an update on their defensive construction progress until his fellow Abyssals are ready to continue.
 
Voice does not share the stealthy nature of some of her colleagues, so she instead settles in to wait for contact with these invaders, thinking of different scenarios that might take place and how to respond to them.
 
Having arrived at the graveyard The Knight's retainers waste no time erecting his tent and organizing his things. While the others polish his armor and tend to the blood red locs of Morauro. When both of them look properly stunning The Knight sets off on his faerie steed. "I'm off to make contact with our soon to be "allies" I should have their hearts in my hand in no time!" Morauro lets out and hauntingly beautiful whinny before setting off.

(Spending 5m on Elegant Tyrant Majesty right before contact with the outsiders)
 
Cuckoo, having said his farewell to Voice, sets out to see what he can see of the camp of these humans from the Great Maker. Taking care to see if he can spot any of these new Exalts, so he can stufy them.

Spending 9m on Stealth Excellency, 5m on Aweful Clarity Insight, and 3m on Superior Sight Technique. And after the roll, he will spend 1m and 1 wp to activate Moonless Night Absence, so all dice on the Stealth roll that didn't roll 10s are rerolled.
He has 18 dice on Dex + Stealth, unless it's counted as Urban area.
He has 10 dice on Per +Awareness and doule 9s.

16 successes on his Stealth.
6 successes on Awareness.
 
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"Incense, perhaps?" the Scion muses as the Deathbringer approaches. "If they're burning their dead, their flesh is as strange as their souls. It doesn't seem to be a weapon. You shall soon have a more fruitful source to question."
 
It is not far to the source of the smoke, and to call the place an encampment is a serious understatement. A rather sizeable city has sprouted up, one capable of holding many tens of thousands of people, with strange metal structures rising hundreds of feet up into the sky. As you stand off at a distance and take in the view, you can see a sizable armed force on the march. The line of soldiers walking along seems to go on forever, numbering at least eighty thousand fighting men intermixed with mechanical war machines of a design you have never seen before leading a larges supply train of self propelled wagons. There are even a large number of airships flying along overhead of the armed column.

Taking a second look at the newly formed city, there is another feature that you can see that catches your eye. It is what appears to be an armored human head that is roughly three hundred feet tall, located at the center of the place, and you can see that there are more wagons and machines going into and coming out of the mouth. Very unusual.

Do you approach closer?
 
Cuckoo will approach carefully. A sizable city sprouting overnight here is something to be wary off. But his curiosity is piqued, and he needs to know more about it, and what's in it before he returns to let his fellow Deathknights know.
 
The Knights blackened spark of divinity smoldered as he approached the settlements edge. Morauro traveled at a canter seemingly prancing with every trot. With the slightest squeeze of his thighs he stopped his pony’s progress before they drew too close. Then he put a hand to his mouth and called out to the outsiders more than likely approaching him.

“Hale and well met strangers! I greet you on behalf of my masters!” He raised his spear and cast it a short distance away. “And I come baring a good welcome abd peace to you!”

(Spending five motes for elegant tyrant majesty and rolling presence + appearance I want to try and instill trust in whom ever comes meets me so this is an influence roll.)
 
The Knights blackened spark of divinity smoldered as he approached the settlements edge. Morauro traveled at a canter seemingly prancing with every trot. With the slightest squeeze of his thighs he stopped his pony’s progress before they drew too close. Then he put a hand to his mouth and called out to the outsiders more than likely approaching him.

“Hale and well met strangers! I greet you on behalf of my masters!” He raised his spear and cast it a short distance away. “And I come baring a good welcome abd peace to you!”

(Spending five motes for elegant tyrant majesty and rolling presence + appearance I want to try and instill trust in whom ever comes meets me so this is an influence roll.)
OOC what language are you speaking?
 
Red Shadow Claws Red Shadow Claws

Moving silently and with near invisibility thanks to your Exalted nature, it is easy for Cuckoo to slip into the city. There have been many strange places that you have seen in both the Underworld and in Creation, but those do not hold a candle to the utter alien nature of this place. Huge pistons the size of a house move at a blur of speed driving massive gears and wheels, to what purpose you have no idea. The layout of the streets doesn’t seem to make any sense to you either, with no rhyme or reason to how they run.

Like a ghost, you slip through the streets past hundreds of people, all of which have those strange gemstones in their foreheads. Soldiers in uniforms and wearing swords to laborers hauling bags off of carts all have these stones. Also, most of the people you see are wearing tinted eye goggles and even then they act as if it is too bright. Other things stand out to you as strange. In a typical city, there are horses leaving their droppings in the road, sewage running in gutters, and general bits of trash. But these streets are clean and debris free, and no animals can be seen or heard except for the occasional wild bird.

The whole of the population is speaking a rapid-fire odd dialect of Old Realm, making it a little hard to follow at first but as you listen more, you start to pick up on the slang and phrases that are a bit unfamiliar to you. The general talk is about how well the invasion is going, including how the Tripartite Assembly is planning on a sea leg to invade the Blessed Isle itself!


EbonChevalier EbonChevalier

Knight can see a large work crew laboring hard to raise up a section of wall using a crane and ropes to help guide the heavy wall into place. Your approach is quickly noticed and the work gang stops to gawk at you as you ride up and stop short to talk. A tall man standing at least seven and a half feet tall with large plates green jade covering his skin in a way that seems to have them bolted on raises his hand to shield his eyes from the glare of the sun looks out at you and he rises up to his feet. He idly tosses his heavy sledgehammer aside in a way that seems to mimic how you tossed your spear to the ground and he approaches. The workers all part to the sides to give this jade giant clear access to you.

He stops walking a few yards away, glancing over at your spear and making sure he is not between you and it. He then says something in Old Realm and waits for your reaction.
 
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