Return of the Scarlet Empress III - The Lookshy War

"Blood and Fire," Ireva whispers in return, and reaches out to clasp her husband's hands.

(Albeit not without the tiniest possible flicker of hesitation. Blood and fire, and she's used very similar phrases before, to try to cage in words the horror of that night when she was four. Torchlight and pyreflame, and blood splattering the streets. The air heavy with that coppery scent, and smoke, and rot - the memories that flooded her mind, when Fire Orchid said war gives birth to the greatest glory.

But no. That's not what he means, not Zhou. The fire in his blood, his family's blood, the phoenix and dragon wedding. That's all. It must be. And that, she can celebrate.)

Any further distracting proceedings, however, are curtailed by the slight scratching noise from beyond the open tent-flap. Ireva looks around, spots the be-fanged cat and - a moment later - the message, and takes two quick strides to scoop Skandi into her arms. A careless sweep of her foot erases any traces of the message left after Skandi's paw-swipe.

"Oh, look, Zhou, a kitty!" she coos, in much the same tones that Fire Orchid had used. It's a deliberate signal; she's not sure if her husband had spotted the telltale signs. She turns back into the tent, absently releasing the rolled-up flap with one hand, to give them at least some privacy. Although given her still-bright anima...

"Silhouettes will likely show as shadows against the light, on the tent walls," she breathes into Skandi's ear, as she rubs her cheek against his fur. "Maybe not the best place to change back, if you want to hide your presence. We were going to go check on Xet, want to come?"

"Oh, you want to get down, kitty?" She sets Skandi down on the floor of the tent between herself and Zhou. "Let me put down some paper for you, just in case of accidents, we have to sleep here after all..."

A sheaf of well-worn parchment comes out of her pockets, and she picks the cat up again to set him down on top of it, at the same moment palming a small ink-vial and trailing a dribble of thick black ink across the paper.

The Eclipse looks up at her husband and mouths Skandi silently.

Skandi purrs, nods, yes, he wants to come, and dips the tip of his paw in the ink and writes as quickly and cleanly as he can, as a kitty.

"Always spies in camp. Talk after dark. Cat isn't Skandi."

Then he looks up happily at them, ready to leave when they are.

Ireva spends a few more moments petting the cat, stroking under his chin and behind his ears with murmured comments on his cuteness, and then smiles up at Zhou. "Shall we go find Xet, then?" She hoists the kitty up onto her shoulder, and makes the papers vanish back into her jacket. "Better not leave the cat here, if we don't want to come back to find our bedrolls shredded."

Outside the tent, Ireva walks up to the first soldier she sees. Still wreathed in white-gold light, still shining with a terrible beauty: the small cat riding happily on her shoulder only detracts a little from the image.

"Excuse me," she asks politely, "could you tell us where the prisoners are being kept? The Chuzei -" she nods to Zhou, "- and I would like to check on them."

Spoiler

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If the bit in spoilers happens, Ireva will use Mastery of Small Manners, and if a social roll is called for, she will augment it with Irresistible Salesman Spirit.

I may not be able to post for the rest of the day, heading out with a friend.

No clear omens. Unfortunate, but not unexpected - and the omens if she doesn’t attempt escape are both clear and very inauspicious. Not much point in waiting further, Isa judges.

She adopts one of the first katas of Throne Shadow Style: eyes downcast, shoulders stooped, palms inwards. Not something most people would recognize as a combative stance - quite the opposite. Which, of course, is the whole point. And as she does she closes her eyes, envisioning the labyrinthine tangles of the Loom of Fate mirroring her surroundings. Somewhere in Yu-Shan, the spiders are watching…

She reaches out with a sense that has no name and pulls, rearranging those imaginary threads - I am not here. I left five minutes ago. Any evidence to the contrary is an error to be corrected - and the world changes. She can feel those phantom threads shifting all around her, accounting for the way things have suddenly always been; and before it finishes she shucks the strands of fate that tell everyone who sees her I am Tepet Xet, leaving only a well-dressed foreign woman cloaked in anonymity.

Spoiler

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Isa is activating Lion Mouse Stratagem and Avoidance Kata, both of which are reflexive, and removing her resplendent destiny. Avoidance Kata doesn't give any control over where you end up, so let's see what happens!

Essence tracking: Isa currently has 1-3 personal motes left, depending on what the stunt rating for her last action was.

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Originally Posted by Ifni

Ireva spends a few more moments petting the cat, stroking under his chin and behind his ears with murmured comments on his cuteness, and then smiles up at Zhou. "Shall we go find Xet, then?" She hoists the kitty up onto her shoulder, and makes the papers vanish back into her jacket. "Better not leave the cat here, if we don't want to come back to find our bedrolls shredded."

Spoiler: If Zhou doesn't have more to say

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Outside the tent, Ireva walks up to the first soldier she sees. Still wreathed in white-gold light, still shining with a terrible beauty: the small cat riding happily on her shoulder only detracts a little from the image.

"Excuse me," she asks politely, "could you tell us where the prisoners are being kept? The Chuzei -" she nods to Zhou, "- and I would like to check on them."

Spoiler

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If the bit in spoilers happens, Ireva will use Mastery of Small Manners, and if a social roll is called for, she will augment it with Irresistible Salesman Spirit.

I may not be able to post for the rest of the day, heading out with a friend.

---

Ireva

He snaps to a salute at their approach.

"Of course, ma'am. I'll escort you there myself."

They reach the prison to find a single prisoner idylly lounging on the grass, a faint smile on her face. Their escort shrugs.

"Don't know why you'd want to come here, though."

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Originally Posted by The_Snark

No clear omens. Unfortunate, but not unexpected - and the omens if she doesn’t attempt escape are both clear and very inauspicious. Not much point in waiting further, Isa judges.

She adopts one of the first katas of Throne Shadow Style: eyes downcast, shoulders stooped, palms inwards. Not something most people would recognize as a combative stance - quite the opposite. Which, of course, is the whole point. And as she does she closes her eyes, envisioning the labyrinthine tangles of the Loom of Fate mirroring her surroundings. Somewhere in Yu-Shan, the spiders are watching…

She reaches out with a sense that has no name and pulls, rearranging those imaginary threads - I am not here. I left five minutes ago. Any evidence to the contrary is an error to be corrected - and the world changes. She can feel those phantom threads shifting all around her, accounting for the way things have suddenly always been; and before it finishes she shucks the strands of fate that tell everyone who sees her I am Tepet Xet, leaving only a well-dressed foreign woman cloaked in anonymity.

Spoiler

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Isa is activating Lion Mouse Stratagem and Avoidance Kata, both of which are reflexive, and removing her resplendent destiny. Avoidance Kata doesn't give any control over where you end up, so let's see what happens!

Essence tracking: Isa currently has 1-3 personal motes left, depending on what the stunt rating for her last action was.

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Isa

The Sidereal vanishes, reappearing near the outside perimeter of the encampment. There doesn't seem to be an alarm.

Spoiler: OOC

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2 die stunts.

Versino

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Originally Posted by Inspector Valin

There is a whisper in Versi's head at those words, a quiet, shadowy thing carried up from the darkness below. But the young Exalt doesn't notice it for a second. Her focus has been on Smile, a young Exalt like her, but with a more painful fate and place in Creation. What was one more iota of unease, a brief chill across the nape of the neck? It was a chill night and they were discussing dark topics. Versi simply placed a hand to the back of her neck for a moment, barely thinking before looking back towards Maiden, frowning. "You deserve better than that. Than just hoping they'll get better."

Slowly, hesitantly at first, Versi took a step forward towards the Deathknight. Drawing close, the Lunar smiles, placing a hand upon the Abyssal's shoulder before drawing her arms around Smile, hugging the strange little figure. It wasn't much, and the young Lunar felt that keenly, but there was honest warmth behind it, a few tears gently dropping down her face. No one should feel that alone.

Versi lingers in the embrace for several long seconds, the source of her bloody wound forgotten. Smile was like her, another lonely Exalt, trying to make sense of the world. She'd just... chosen a darker path towards that. She shouldn't be blamed. This wasn't her fault. The young steward sniffed a little as she drew away, meeting Smile's gaze with a frown of sorrow and regret. What could she offer someone in this situation? The Maiden's life wouldn't improve with Versi just giving her a hug. The young traveller shook her head, a touch dejectedly. "I don't know what I can do to help yet. But I want to. I don't like being hated either. It's not just Deathknights no one trusts."

Sighing, the Lunar looks up towards the night sky, considering the points of light. She sighed, the sight was pleasant, but reminded her of that first night in Creation. And how far she still had to go in her objectives. The little Lunar looked across to Smile, trying to seem encouraging. "A lot of things are wrong in Creation. If we can learn about them, work out how we got to this point, perhaps we can make things better. Or at least work out where to start, perhaps?" She met Maiden's gaze, trying to see if she agreed with that idea at all. It seemed like one more thing they might have in common.

Spoiler: OOC

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Can't find a good justification for any of Versi's virtues kicking in here. Compassion? Braga's not been hurt, or in direct need of sympathy. Conviction? Arguing with Braga, whilst something that's pretty OOC for Versi, doesn't act against her core beliefs. Temperance might work for emotional restraint, but it's Versi's lowest virtue and wouldn't boost things enough. And Valor... doesn't make sense for confronting Braga; he's not that powerful.

And... that eliminates Versi's chances of boosting this high enough to defend against it.

So yeah, Poisoning the Will now active on Versi. Industrious, can I get a confirmation on the duration? Versi will resist for the first day likely, have an argument the day after that, and then not apologize... until the end of the duration. One scene of erosion will be rebuilt fairly soon after this goes wrong, barring other interference

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Smile

She blinks, looks away.

"I...I don't know. Knowing where things come from doesn't really help me now."

She looks to one side, the other.

"I have to go back now; Daddy'll get suspicious if I don't come back. Please don't tell anyone about me? Daddy has spies everywhere, even when you think you're alone. And...if we have to fight and try to kill each other...I promise I'll only pretend to. Pinkie swear?"

Braga and Shimoko

The lightning arcs towards the target, whose eyes remain steady as he stares directly at Braga before raising his arms in a sweeping motion and

Braga's lightning crashes uselessly against the side of the hull; the man must be berating himself for doing so. Why attack an empty pile of crates? To impress the gunzoha? There was no enemy here, and if there was, he had just revealed...

The chilled edge of a soulsteel blade rests lightly against the Air Aspect's neck.

"Shhh..." Typhon whispers. "Don't move. I'd hate for my hand to slip; these are very sharp. Tell me your name."

Spoiler: OOC

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Two die stunt.

Unfortunately, it missed. Fortunately, you players now know who's wearing the scarf.

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Originally Posted by industrious

Ireva

He snaps to a salute at their approach.

"Of course, ma'am. I'll escort you there myself."

---

"Thank you, it's much appreciated. What's your name, soldier?"

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They reach the prison to find a single prisoner idylly lounging on the grass, a faint smile on her face. Their escort shrugs.

"Don't know why you'd want to come here, though."

---

Ireva shrugs. "You can learn about a leader from how they treat their enemies, as well as how they treat their friends." But she's smiling, and her tone doesn't hold disapproval.

The prison genuinely doesn't look too bad; room to stretch out, as the current occupant is demonstrating. Although there's only the one occupant. Fire Orchid had mentioned another prisoner - has Isa been taken somewhere else? Were the other Solar's orders coded, designed to mislead listeners? Or has she managed to slip away, before or after reaching this cage? Isa might be able to manage it subtly enough to avoid an uproar - Ireva remembers the way she seemed to fade from notice in Nexus, radiating meek quiet unexceptionable pay no attention. Or the guards charged with holding her might even now be frantically searching, hoping to recover their prisoner before her escape becomes widely known. Or there's the possibility that this is Isa, wearing another face - Ireva peers in at the woman, searching for any kind of subtle signal.

After a long moment of examination she looks back at the guard, and indicates the prisoner with a tilt of her head, steadying the cat on her shoulder with her other hand at his protesting meow. "What did she do to end up in there?"

"What's a pinkie?"

Versi blinked a little puzzled, but nodded at Smile's words: the young Abyssal knew more about Black Hand's power than she did. Best not to take chances. She chuckled a little at the request, placing a hand back towards her earlier wound. "I don't think I could kill you anyway. You're good at fighting, damn it." There's no malice in the young Lunar's tone. It'd been a fair fight, barring the lack of armor thing. Grinning, Versi nodded a second time. "But all right. I promise, if we have to fight, I'll pretend too."

The little Lunar's smile faded a little. Her gaze grew distant, thinking back towards the camp, Skycutter... and Braga.Her mind wheeled through the other members of their party, smiling, friendly and dedicated to the service of Lookshy. Versi's eyes started to drip, the young chosen gently crying, her breath harsh. She tried to grin, just as Smile had a little time before. "I don't have a lot of friends. I.. don't know you that well, but I'd still hate it if you died."

In one moment Braga faces death head on, with blazing essence and grim determination... in the next death has him by the throat, and it's a quiet, whispered, unanticipated death, quite removed from the roar of battle.

This shouldn't be possible, but it is happening, and Braga knows the wonders of Creation too well to rule out anything simply on grounds of impossibility. Somehow he was provoked to strike at shadows. Somehow he is ambushed. There's no escape from those facts. What remains is to deal with the situation those events have created.

"Do you seek power over me through my name, deathknight?" Braga asks. Not a whisper to match the deathknight's own; he wants Shimoko to hear as she approaches ('If she's approaching... if my call for aid wasn't delusion also...').

"You'll find no shades of my family to summon to fright me, if necromancy is your aim. All my forefathers were faithful to the Immaculate Creed; they are past Lethe and lost to you," he boasts. There's no sincere substance in his defiance: first, he knows no material power Oblivion's servants have through names; second, he knows that indirect manipulation through his family's shades would hold precious little purchase over him; and third, he doubts that this particular deathknight is the necromancer of his company. But the challenge might draw him out to further speech, and that might buy time... time for Shimoko to come, or some other miracle to transpire, time for something to spare him from facing the blade at his throat alone.

'Dragons defend me...'

Rising Glory

When the conwoman enters the First Lance's tent, she realizes she isn't alone. One of the common soldiers lies on the ground, genuflecting before the Night Caste.

"Oh most generous Rising Glory," he says. "I thank you for blessing me with the chance to see you twice in this lifetime."

Typhon

The deathknight makes an impatient clucking sound, tongue against palate.

"Manners, manners. Especially when speaking to more august persons, child of Mela."

His short daiklaves scrape just so, and the Air Aspect finds his throat and jaw clean-shaven.

"Are there any more of you skulking about? Or will I be forced to reenact all those terrible rumors the Immaculate Faith preaches about what my kind does? Which particular misdeed would you have me begin with?"

The tip of one daiklave is lowered, rests against Braga's navel.

"Disembowelment? Messy, messy, and the fun is over too quickly. Amputation? Your hands look soft, Dragon; you don't get much use from them. Or...what if I do nothing at all to you? And simply pay that sweet child a visit one night?"

"Your name, Dragon."

It is at this point that Shimoko arrives.

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Inspector Valin

"What's a pinkie?"

Versi blinked a little puzzled, but nodded at Smile's words: the young Abyssal knew more about Black Hand's power than she did. Best not to take chances. She chuckled a little at the request, placing a hand back towards her earlier wound. "I don't think I could kill you anyway. You're good at fighting, damn it." There's no malice in the young Lunar's tone. It'd been a fair fight, barring the lack of armor thing. Grinning, Versi nodded a second time. "But all right. I promise, if we have to fight, I'll pretend too."

The little Lunar's smile faded a little. Her gaze grew distant, thinking back towards the camp, Skycutter... and Braga.Her mind wheeled through the other members of their party, smiling, friendly and dedicated to the service of Lookshy. Versi's eyes started to drip, the young chosen gently crying, her breath harsh. She tried to grin, just as Smile had a little time before. "I don't have a lot of friends. I.. don't know you that well, but I'd still hate it if you died."

---

She winks at the Lunar, the sudden shift in mood jarring even as Smile's eyes remain haunted.

"I'd hate it if I died too!"

Slowly, she reaches for Versino, giving the Lunar a hug of her own. And...sniffing her neck?

"...Sorry. Habit. But...try to slip away night after next?"

Ireva and Zhou

"Five Hounds Braying," the soldier says. He shrugs at Ireva's question. "No idea."

Spoiler: OOC

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I'm kind of eager to move to the next scene in the morning? Just make rolls for the information you need, and I'll try to post it sometime this weekend.

Shimoko skids to a halt, watching and panicking. Two against one, where the one is a deathknight. Not good.

Versi grinned at Smile's laughter, happy to see the little Deathknight was capable of more positive emotions. Still the young Lunar frowned at her request; not at the idea itself, but more at the practicality of it. "I don't think we'll be here then. We're supposed to be heading back to Lookshy if we don't hear from the others." Still, Maiden probably knew that they weren't going to be staying in one spot. Smiling gently, Versi nodded.

"I'll try though, no matter where we end up. It'd be nice to talk some more."

Kitty Skandi, Zhou and Ireva

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Originally Posted by industrious

"Five Hounds Braying," the soldier says. He shrugs at Ireva's question. "No idea."

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"Fair enough. When the Commander mentioned prisoners I'd wondered..." Ireva purses her lips, thoughtfully. "I'd heard you suffered an attack by agents of the Immaculate Order, not long past? I gather none of them were taken captive?"

She leads the conversation on from there, as they walk back through the camp, "- although I think we can find our own way back, Five Hounds, if you have business elsewhere. It's kind of you to offer to guide us, but I don't want to presume on your time."

She gently tries to elicit information on the recent attack, on who was responsible and whether any survived, on casualties other than Fire Orchid's husband. Even more carefully, she probes for stories and memories of the dead, wanting to understand what their loss would mean to this army and the Solar who leads it. When that becomes too fraught, she asks after Five Hounds' own history, and his time with the Commanding Teacher.

And she looks around, casually, as they walk between the campfires, scanning faces for that indefinable sense of wrongness, of darkness hiding away from the sun. In one of those long glances, as Zhou picks up the conversation with Five Hounds, she takes the opportunity to cough into her hand, and mouth silently to the wind:

"Isa. If free, signal us please, when safe? If imprisoned, any clue to whereabouts would help. Walking to tent -" She murmurs distance and direction from the prison pen, a rough estimate but hopefully sufficient, especially combined with the (ebbing, but not yet quiescent) glow of her anima.

Ireva can walk quite slowly when she has a reason, and by the time they return to the tent, her anima has faded to mere glittering sparks on her brow. Even so she seems to shine, as if lit by some inner radiance.

She thanks Five Hounds again, bows politely to him and waits for him to depart, and then steps back inside the tent, dislodging the cat from her shoulder as she does so.

"Right," she breathes as she steps closer to her husband, barely loud enough for Zhou and Skandi's sharp feline ears to perceive, "I wanted to see what I can find out around the camp, before it gets too late and everyone's asleep. Cat, would you rather talk quickly now, or leave it for later?"

Spoiler

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So, Wind-Carried Words Technique to Isa, and I'll try... I guess an Investigation+Charisma honest social attack to try to get Five Hounds to open up?
[roll0] Investigation+Charisma
[roll1] honesty bonus
[roll2] possible stunt

Ireva should have the motes for a WCWT and to put up Unblinking Sentinel Gaze again and have some Personal juice left over for judicious MoSM invocations, since she's presumably had some time for the hearthstones to recharge her since the social combat with Fire Orchid (my last update had her at 6m Personal before any stunt reward from her final social attack).

What follows could happen either before or after a conversation with Skandi and Zhou: I will assume before, for the moment.

A little later:

Ireva looks down, and the luminosity that seems to suffuse her fades. Her clothes become merely ordinary fabric, and then grow dull and dusty, the garb of a mercenary who's been marching or riding all day. A close match to the clothes the scout wore: she'd gotten a close look at them, in searching him and then in those desperate moments as she tried to help Isa save his life.

She unbraids her hair quickly and pulls it severely back from her face into a knot at the base of her neck, stretching skin over bone, sharpening her features. A simple helmet could fit above the knot easily enough: it's a style she's seen mercenaries wear before. For now, she wraps a bleached cotton dust-scarf around her head. Her bow is slung over her shoulder, a knife and short-sword sheathed at her side. Both bow and sword are well-kept, the bow the better crafted of the two; the sword is serviceable, but of indifferent make.

She does not look much like the shining lady who strode across the camp limned in sunlight, face brilliant with a terrible beauty, orichalcum gleaming from beneath her jacket. This is just a small woman, barely more than a girl, perhaps hoping the severe hairstyle will make her look older. A mercenary in dusty clothes and muddy boots from wading through rice paddies, her bow the best-kept thing about her. But just in case, she runs dirty fingers over her face as well, smudging her cheekbones, changing the contours of her eyes and mouth - at least to a casual glance. The disguise would never hold up to inspection by someone who knew her, but the vast majority of the soldiers in the camp haven't seen her, or only as a shining figure passing by.

She smiles at her companions, peers out from the crack in the closed tent-flap, and when no one is looking, slips out to explore.

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In an army this size, no one knows everyone else, or even close to everyone else. This is a blessing for Ireva, even as it would be equally exploitable by any other spy. Part of her goal here is to understand whether this is a weakness, and if so to what degree, and so she eases herself into the storytelling and singing around the campfires, tapping a little Essence to sail these unfamiliar waters just as if she were attending one of Nexus' polished poisonous parties. (It doesn't take long to convince herself that the company, at least, seems more congenial here.) She refrains from bringing out some of the more interesting herbs in her pockets, but she can offer tea-leaves for the common kettle and spices for the common pot, and once everyone is eating and drinking, it's easy to blend into the group, to fade into the general atmosphere of camaraderie.

She listens for hints that they know where they're going, and what they will be fighting, snippets of intelligence old or new. How good is their security? How tight-lipped are they about their plans?

When asked where she's been, she describes the area toward the blighted village, the new-made shadowland. From there, when she can do so subtly, she steers the conversation toward Thorns, tossing bleak half-true memories into the swirling roil of conversation - I was a Guildsman's guard, once, and you won't believe what I saw in those ever-dim streets...

Sometimes, as she wanders between fires, the topic - whether she seeds it or not - moves toward the Realm or the Order. She steps carefully, then, prodding at sore points, trying to understand whether the rage is deep-seated or superficial. But when the atmosphere begins to grow tense and painful, when soldiers' faces grow set and angry, then she tentatively offers up stories and jokes - so the tale I heard about Immaculates was... - to break the storm before it can do harm.

The Realm and the Order are the butt of these jokes, naturally. They summon much laughter, even if most of it's vindictive. But a very careful observer might note a common thread, in all the jokes and stories: butt of the joke does not mean villain. Again and again, the jokes depict the monk of the Order, or the Dynast of the Realm, as foolish or oblivious, ignorant or gullible, a figure to be mocked - but not evil, not intending vileness, merely easily deceived by a clever trickster.

And she listens, to the stories the soldiers tell of themselves, and the silent stories in the way they move, the shadows behind their eyes. Where did you come from, Fire Orchid's troops? What brought you here, to serve a Solar?

She notes the centers of conversation and attention, the people to whom others naturally turn. She doesn't approach those people directly - they are busy, and to be part of their orbit would be to attract attention - but instead those who watch them, a little further out toward the periphery. She has never found it hard to make friends.

Spoiler

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OK, so the plan is to dial her IRA down to unobtrusive level, and then go explore the camp.

I'll roll Contacts to try to make a useful minor contact: [roll3] (standard difficulty, so need only one success)
Possible stunt: [roll4]
EDIT: Well, I guess I will see if that post amounted to a 2-die stunt, then :smallwink:

I based the description of the fires etc and evening activities on the riders' camp, and figured I could insert non-contradicted scene features (no guards directly outside their tent, etc) with a 2-die stunt, but let me know if I need to change things.

Int+Larceny (i.e. Int) Disguise check: [roll5]
Possible stunt: [roll6]
She's not trying to look like anyone else in particular, just to not be immediately recognizable as Gloriously Shiny Solar Ireva; she's banking on the fact that App 7 and App 3 do indeed look pretty different, very few people saw her up close anyway, and if she sees those people around any of the fires she will avoid those fires. I'll spend a WP here for a bonus success.
EDIT: And glad I spent the WP. Bad dice.

Should I roll something Investigation-based? Ireva is more or less trying to determine:
-If she WAS a spy, how much information would she be able to get out of the common soldiers? (optional extra: how easy would it be for a spy to poison the food or drink?)
-Are there any Creatures of Darkness around?
-What are the soldiers' attitudes towards Thorns, Lookshy and Immaculates?
-How did they end up in this position?

She is then trying to subtly encourage the attitudes (no mechanical impact yet, but I keep realizing I'll never be able to use Taboo-Inflicting Diatribe without several hours of setup, so I need to actually do the hours of setup whenever I'm in a situation where it might be relevant in future):
-The Mask of Winters is Bad and Evil and the Enemy, Priority Target Number One.
-Immaculates are misguided/ignorant/being manipulated, not evil.

She doesn't need to actually change anyone's mind with these, just plant the ideas. In particular, she's attempting the latter by jokes that mock the Order, to make it harder to accuse her of supporting them (but also harder to think of Immaculates as monsters rather than something you laugh at). Happy to roll a social roll if you like to try to ensure this goes over as intended.

EDIT: Also, as a note, her plan if someone publicly identifies her as a Solar is to claim she was testing their security (which is partly true), and congratulate them all on their alertness. It'd be mildly embarrassing but there's no reason for it to be a major problem.

Rising Glory, Rising Glory. Oh, drat. What had she done as Rising Glory?

Well, theft, obviously. Grand Vandalism, once, and impersonation of the Scarlet Empress, twice (not her best plan, really. Why had she repeated it?). Several aborted seductions, since she’d been a hungry but easily bored noblewoman. Which one was –

-but no, he was thanking her. That had to mean something. But what?

Trap, obviously. Or a warning from Lookshy that she was being watched – they’d used Glory’s name. What Jade needed was Shard’s full disguise up again. What Jade needed was a night’s rest, three bottles of the strongest sake, and a good pound of opium. What Jade had was this.

“Oh…thank you…?” Shard says, bemused. Jade tries to pitch the words so it’s clear to her interrogator it’s a disguise, and clear to everyone else it’s a mistaken identity. Suffusing Shard’s natural uncertainty into the sentences should do the trick. “But I’m Bright Shard, actually. A craftswoman. I don’t know a Glory... and you are, humble sir?” Shard bows back, falling on the default etiquette, and lets her eyes skitter about the man, trying to read as much as she can from him. Who send him, why is he here… and what is he planning?

Spoiler

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Spending 1m on Mastery of Small Manners to get the Motivation of this man – and other notable personages in the room, including Duck if she’s there. Appearance boosted to 6, left with just one mote in both pools.

Any one of the deathknight's threats is enough to chill Braga's blood to ice, fear biting sharper than any natural cold the exalt has ever felt, but it's the threat to Versi that truly pierces his heart. The mere thought of Versi menaced by such a monster... of a deathknight slipping into her tent as she sleeps, when she's at her most vulnerable... Braga shivers, the movement drawing a thin trickle of blood from where Typhon's blade rests against his neck.

"Sesus Denerid Braga," he confesses, "and... and what 'august' personage might I be addressing, Sir Horror? Creation is graced by so many great enemies, I must confess I am not personally acquainted with Your Most Profane Majesty."

Even in the face of terror, deference to the sworn champions of Oblivion doesn't come particularly naturally to Braga.

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Originally Posted by Ascension

Any one of the deathknight's threats is enough to chill Braga's blood to ice, fear biting sharper than any natural cold the exalt has ever felt, but it's the threat to Versi that truly pierces his heart. The mere thought of Versi menaced by such a monster... of a deathknight slipping into her tent as she sleeps, when she's at her most vulnerable... Braga shivers, the movement drawing a thin trickle of blood from where Typhon's blade rests against his neck.

"Sesus Denerid Braga," he confesses, "and... and what 'august' personage might I be addressing, Sir Horror? Creation is graced by so many great enemies, I must confess I am not personally acquainted with Your Most Profane Majesty."

Even in the face of terror, deference to the sworn champions of Oblivion doesn't come particularly naturally to Braga.

---

Typhon

"I am Typhon. Envoy of the Mask of Winters. Ambassador to the Confederation of Rivers."

Typhon chuckles, and steps back from Braga, his blades retreating from the Air Aspect. His eyes flick towards Shimoko; his tongue touches the corner of his mouth.

"And I think that peace is still possible, even at this late hour. Even if our dear general has quite the vendetta against your little golden child. So. You are going to let me leave, Sesus Denerid Braga. Gunzoha. And pray that we meet again under similar circumstances."

He turns to leave, his back facing the pair as he saunters away.

Spoiler: OOC

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Avoiding the Truth Technique: "Peace is still possible"

[roll0] + 4 sux

Ireva

Her escort shakes his head, refuses to leave.

"Can't be too careful, ma'am. Commander wanted privacy, own way when she was alone with her husband, with the Good Sir. We agreed. The Immaculate bastards killed him. Not going to happen again. Not on our watch."

He grins.

"Don't want to know what happened to the bodies. Commander blessed them, too. No ghosts or nothing to worry about."

"Was a farmer. Fair Folk came. Burned crops. Took my daughter. My wife. Nearly killed me. Then she came with a hundred men. Saved me. Saved others. Offered us a chance to fight back. Trained us. She goes, we follow. She orders, we obey. She fights...we win."

"For her...everything."

Here and there, pockets of darkness dot the encampment, with a plurality clustered in an area sectioned off from everyone else. Even still, there are those the Sun's Face has turned from walking, talking, smiling amidst the camp. One of them nods to Five Hounds; and the man grins back, grasping his arm and thumping him affectionately on the back.

Later, as Ireva tries to discreetly escape, Five Hounds and a group of ten or so is gathered around a nearby fire. They spot her in the gloom, call out to her, to share their fire. If she refuses, two of them come with her; otherwise, they provide her a log to sit on. Either way, she is Ireva, and even if she isn't obviously a Solar, she obviously isn't one of them.

Her jokes about the Immaculates are met with mixed receptions. A few turn sullen, others laugh, one or two get angry for making light of the killers. Others pitch in their own jokes; those about the Immaculates are far more mean-spirited. And more bawdy. Five Hounds for his part, stirs when asked, and his words are met with applause.

"Don't know much about them. My town, we keep to ourselves, and the preacher tells us words and we pray. But they tried to kill the Commander, and they killed the Good Sir, and that makes them the enemy. Man tries to gut you or take your purse, don't matter if its because his kids need food or he ain't had food for a week."

Throughout Ireva's evening, the stories tend to repeat. The Commander saved me, perhaps seven in ten say. We owe her our lives. They trust her, they die for her, they kill for her. And they are proud to do so. They believe in her. Most don't know where, exactly they're going. To Nexus, the consensus seems to be. No, to Lookshy. No, to Thorns. There's a division and some talk over whether or not they would come to aid either city or to lay siege to it. Some of them lie even as they tell the truth, and others tell the truth even as they think themselves liars. But they all trust in their Commander.

Mister Flufferkins

The cat strolls through the base, and the Wolf takes note. For all its deceptive informality and chaos, there is a firm structure underneath. The Commander's men don't wear uniforms, wear no overt badges of rank, but as Skandi studies them carefully, he begins to note patterns. The way a belt is tied, or the arrangement of pouches. Subtle clues as to the chain of command. And while there aren't any other Exalts around, mention of "the damn magicians" is made, albeit quasi-affectionately.

It isn't until after Ireva returns from her scouting mission that Skandi the Cat lets himself stretch out along the ground, then transforms again. Jade and steel and cloth grow around him, and then it is Skandi the Wolf lying along the ground, profile low so as not to cast any shadow against the tent walls. There would be little danger of that regardless, this late at night, but safety is paramount. His voice is a low whisper, so as not to carry. "Let me tell you a story."

"There was a time when I was out scouting, and I found the greatest cache of artifacts I had even seen, jade and moon silver and orichalcum, swords and giant armors and essence cannons, like those Versino wields. And i found that it was owned by a rather irascible god, who demanded tribute from the local villages, who had driven away his godly children by his arbitrary demands, who was justly hated and despised by all the realms of men."

"I, being desperately in need of resources, appealed to him to let me borrow his arsenal, and he responded by saying that he would, but only if I performed a -" He pauses. "I don't think there's a word in Riverspeak for it. A kind of formal women's' dance, done in a rather constricting outfit…"

He shakes his head. "I, mindful of my pride as a prince, refused, and so he took his artifacts and went away, and my cause failed and my army was destroyed."

Skandi waits a beat. "The ending is guesswork. The rest of the story is the story of last evening. This is the finest mortal army I have ever seen. Five thousand troops, all drilled to the peak of ability. There are no mortals in the world that could match them, man for man."

He raises a finger.

"Except that there is one Exalt in her army, and only one. Kharal Fire Orchid thus has men but no officers. We have - we are - a fine set of Exalted officers for her army, but we have no men. When I fought the Realm, their officers were their strength. Kill them, and the soldiers would fall prey to every ambush I set, would break and run, could be cut down. Let them live, and they had sorcery and charms sufficient to outweigh every trick I tried. If we wish to save Lookshy, we must dance in costume for Kharal Fire Orchid, or we and she and Lookshy will all face the fate of Thorns."

Quote:

---

Ireva

Her escort shakes his head, refuses to leave.

"Can't be too careful, ma'am. Commander wanted privacy, own way when she was alone with her husband, with the Good Sir. We agreed. The Immaculate bastards killed him. Not going to happen again. Not on our watch."

He grins.

"Don't want to know what happened to the bodies. Commander blessed them, too. No ghosts or nothing to worry about."

"Was a farmer. Fair Folk came. Burned crops. Took my daughter. My wife. Nearly killed me. Then she came with a hundred men. Saved me. Saved others. Offered us a chance to fight back. Trained us. She goes, we follow. She orders, we obey. She fights...we win."

"For her...everything."

Here and there, pockets of darkness dot the encampment, with a plurality clustered in an area sectioned off from everyone else. Even still, there are those the Sun's Face has turned from walking, talking, smiling amidst the camp. One of them nods to Five Hounds; and the man grins back, grasping his arm and thumping him affectionately on the back.

---

Ireva listens silently to Five Hounds' story, offering the occasional nod or murmur of heartfelt sympathy. Wife, daughter... she can imagine what it must have been like, and wishes she couldn't.

She smiles politely at Five Hounds' interlocutor, warmly enough for a casual meeting - but behind the easy courtesy studies him carefully, looking for any tell-tale hints of inhuman heritage. As Black Ice Shadow proves, the condemnation of the Sun doesn't necessary imply evil intent or deeds, but the number in the camp is... worrying. She can think of one benign explanation. She can think of many more alarming ones.

Spoiler

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She would actually fire Mastery of Small Manners here, trying to pick up the CoD's emotional state and motivations. Depending on how CET works now and how much it costs, she might fire that too, trying to check for suspicious values of Resources/Backing, or an answer on the "how many allies does he consider himself to have in the vicinity" question (this is probably pretty different for a spy and a member of Fire Orchid's army).

Quote:

---

Later, as Ireva tries to discreetly escape, Five Hounds and a group of ten or so is gathered around a nearby fire. They spot her in the gloom, call out to her, to share their fire. If she refuses, two of them come with her; otherwise, they provide her a log to sit on. Either way, she is Ireva, and even if she isn't obviously a Solar, she obviously isn't one of them.

Her jokes about the Immaculates are met with mixed receptions. A few turn sullen, others laugh, one or two get angry for making light of the killers. Others pitch in their own jokes; those about the Immaculates are far more mean-spirited. And more bawdy. Five Hounds for his part, stirs when asked, and his words are met with applause.

"Don't know much about them. My town, we keep to ourselves, and the preacher tells us words and we pray. But they tried to kill the Commander, and they killed the Good Sir, and that makes them the enemy. Man tries to gut you or take your purse, don't matter if its because his kids need food or he ain't had food for a week."

Throughout Ireva's evening, the stories tend to repeat. The Commander saved me, perhaps seven in ten say. We owe her our lives. They trust her, they die for her, they kill for her. And they are proud to do so. They believe in her. Most don't know where, exactly they're going. To Nexus, the consensus seems to be. No, to Lookshy. No, to Thorns. There's a division and some talk over whether or not they would come to aid either city or to lay siege to it. Some of them lie even as they tell the truth, and others tell the truth even as they think themselves liars. But they all trust in their Commander.

---

Ireva accepts the offer gracefully, walks over to share the fire's warmth with apparent pleasure. She listens far more than she talks, and she is a good listener - making appreciative noises at appropriate points in the soldiers' tales, grinning delightedly at their recounted triumphs, wincing or cursing under her breath at stories of betrayal or disaster. When they speak of the Commander she smiles, and largely holds her peace, only nodding slowly in respect or murmuring quiet words of understated but seeming-earnest praise. She laughs at some of the bawdy jokes; rolls her eyes at the worst of the mean-spirited ones, as if to say is that the best you can do?

(Firada would understand. Her sister had sent her into the Mask's court, after all, to laugh at far worse things.)

But she does speak up after Five Hounds, once the applause has died down. She's slipped down to the ground over the course of the evening and is leaning back against the log, comfortable, relaxed, a mug in her hand. Her voice is musing, pensive, the slow lazy tones of post-prandial thinking-out-loud. Not angry, or challenging the soldier's words - at least not directly. Her accent has shifted over the evening, growing less polished, closer to a street-dialect (and Five Hounds' own rural accent).

"Doesn't matter right then and there, no. You do what you gotta do, to keep yourself alive. But there are different kinds of enemies, don't y'think?"

She waves one hand in a direction that might be that of Thorns. "A gang boss sends a nine-year-old to stab you in the kidneys, tells them they'll get half a loaf of bread if they succeed, is the kid really the one you should be calling your enemy? I mean, you can cut 'em down, but is it gonna solve the problem?" She shakes her head. "Yeah, if you're dead, you won't care if your killer was doing it for bread, for medicine, to save a kid, to defend their city; out of ignorance, or passion; for wealth, or power, or revenge; for the fun of hurting you; to drink your blood and make your corpse into a puppet..."

She seems to lose her train of thought for a moment, staring into the dark. Then she shakes her head.

"Like you say, maybe it makes no mind, when it's down to knives in the dark, them or you." (She doesn't rub her arms, and one who knows Ireva very well might realize from that the iron control that lies beneath her casual demeanor, even as the scent of blood and roses floods back in memory, almost hallucinatory in its vividness.) "You do what's needed, to defend yourself and those who rely on you, and be proud of it - damn straight you do." She nods, almost angrily. "But before then - and after, if you win - there's a difference. You can help a starving kid, give them choices other than death or murder. You can talk a greedy Guildsman into a new line of business. You can challenge a fool's ignorance, or even a zealot's anger. But there are those in the world who just want to hurt you to feed on your screams, who'll kill you for the crime of living."

She shrugs, and stretches her arms as if to work a crick out of her shoulders, and as she settles back against the log murmurs softly, "It seems like a difference that matters, to me."

But she lets the subject drop easily enough, when the conversation turns to other less contentious stories, of a heroic commander and the troops who follow her with pride, of desperate rescues and glorious victory. It's a bright shining legend, worthy of a hundred songs, and Ireva seems to all appearances to relish it, offering up admiration and encouragement and approval both spoken and wordless.

I wanted - want? - to believe in her, too.

-----------------

She eventually takes her leave of the group and slips back into the tent, going to wrap herself into the curve of Zhou's arm, letting the hidden tension and the carefully-gauged cheeriness fall away together. Once again, she offers a wordless prayer of gratitude to the Dragons: it is so easy, with Zhou, to cast aside the masks and their burdens with them, easier than she could have imagined in those ten years of loneliness.

Unfortunately, she is given little time to cuddle with her husband and apologize for abandoning him for the evening, as Skandi the Cat promptly transforms back into human form and delivers his whispered story. The Solar's green eyes do widen slightly at the vision of Skandi attired in a 'constricting outfit' to dance for a god's delight, but she puts her hand to her mouth to stifle small squeaking noises, and suppresses any comment until after the Lunar is done. As he speaks, she moves slowly and quietly about the tent in the darkness, watching for moonlit shadows on the canvas walls, listening for the sound of half-stilled breathing, checking for inconsistencies in the floor; much as Fire Orchid had done, a few hours earlier.

By the end her eyes are serious again.

"First," she whispers, "Skandi, should you ever desire to dance this dance, you must let me know so I can advertise and sell tickets. I feel this would instantly resolve any financial shortfalls you might be facing." From her smile, she is joking - but perhaps only half-joking.

"Second - you cut straight to the chase, don't you?" She looks away, and shakes her head, but keeps speaking, quiet as a breath of wind. "This isn't about pride. You would be a good officer, in this army. Zhou would be a good officer. I... am not a soldier, and not qualified to command troops, and you heard Fire Orchid say very clearly that she had no use for any other skills of mine."

"The question is not can we help. The question is can we help better here than anywhere else. If you or she are trying to persuade me to spend the time leading up to the invasion dancing in costume, that's the question I will need answered."

And then, because Skandi is her friend, not merely a means to convey her intentions to Fire Orchid - she reaches into her jacket, and slides the hilt of Resolve clear, curling her body around to hide the distinctive silhouette from any watchers. She taps the blue gem set into the pommel and murmurs, "By the way. Did you catch the Kazei's mind-magic, at the end there?"

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Ireva is actually more positive about staying than this makes it look, but she wants to hear Skandi's arguments, and she wants to know if and how the mind-control affected him before she reveals too much, since it was Obvious to her but she doesn't know exactly what it did. She also thinks that Zhou is still reluctant to stay, and doesn't want to undermine him.

(Also this lets me try to get more information on Five Hounds' CoD buddy before reporting :smallwink:)

EDIT: I'd meant to do a search for watchers, but forgot to write it in at first, so I'll roll it in the OOC. Also putting Unblinking Sentinel Gaze up again just in case it helps with spotting spying CoDs.

"Villain," Braga mutters venomously under his breath as Typhon departs, glaring and rubbing his fresh-shaven jaw. He could strike, could hurl lightning at the man's retreating back, but... well, it did little enough good the first time. And Braga thinks perhaps it might be good to leave the deathknight with some notion that his ridiculous claims of peace have found purchase in the Dragons' ears, the better to rudely surprise him when next they meet.

As the Abyssal ambassador disappears, he turns toward Shimoko.

"Gochei, give me a hand with the salt," he says wearily, "We might not need it tonight, if they want to keep up this charade of peaceful intent, but we'll need it soon enough."

Skandi sighs.

"No. What you can do is see creatures of darkness, detect infiltration among her soldiers, provide information on Thorns, and communicate along long distances instantly. One of those - one of them! - I'd be willing to eat crow for, literally or otherwise. And this is besides the fact that you were beside me in Nexus, when we carved our path to the mercenary-monster. A Solar with a daiklaive is worth more than a hundred men."

He paused. "You... mishandled that conversation. She hates the Immaculate Faith - she has good reason to hate the Immaculate Faith; it makes good men monsters - but once her head clears, she'll realize how useful you are. She'll never say she needs you, but she'll see it. Pride is her weakness. It can't be ours."

He reaches out to touch the gemstone. "I didn't notice anything, but I'm not very noticing."

"I'm not denying that we could help here." Zhou says quietly, looking down at the Lunar on the floor. "But I am not an officer in this army. I am an officer in the Seventh Legion. My oaths are sworn to Lookshy, not to Kharal Fire Orchid. Duty, honour, even blood... they all tell me I should be standing in Lookshy when the invasion comes, not marching with a foreign army."

His expression darkens. "Especially not one commanded by a general who insults my wife, assumes she can order me around and expect obedience, and attempts to bind me to her cause with mind-twisting magic."

"There are a lot of reasons I should leave now, and be damned to what Fire Orchid thinks or wants. I am having difficulty thinking of reasons to stay and fight under her command, especially when there is no guarantee that we would do nearly as much good here as back in Lookshy."

He rests his head on his right hand, ticks off points with his left. "Several reasons. Here's the first. We probably wouldn't arrive in Lookshy before she did, and might not arrive in Lookshy at all." says Skandi, trying to be calm and rational. "When we tried to leave Lookshy, we were quickly attacked by two deathknights, with enough power to crash our airship. The Mask of Winters has excellent intelligence; I've been told that several times, and he clearly demonstrates it. He can use ghosts as scouts so that he will when we leave the encampment, and be able to track us." He raises a finger.

"Given the enemy's superior mobility and superior local numbers, they have perfect information and total control over the environment, except where Kharal Fire Orchid's army is. You're proposing that we walk into the midst of the enemy's scouts, making a journey that took days by airship on foot. We'll get exhausted if we try to press on without sleeping or taking off our armor, especially if they're willing to devote a few snipers to chasing us. They can deploy their two deathknights to attack us again, fresh, with full essence reserves, while we're exhausted and harried and possibly unarmored. If we can get the Frostwing working, they can shoot it down again. Our only choices are to remain with the army and accept that we utterly distrust our commanding officer, for perfectly good reasons - and to have quite a lot of fun fighting our way through an army of ghosts while we miss the battle for Lookshy."

He ticks off another finger and looks up at Zhou.

"Next point. Lookshy has a lot of Exalts. It has a lot of very smart, very powerful Exalts. It doesn't need a few more, except as more warm bodies. We can stand on the walls and be line soldiers, or we can do what no-one else can here." He sighs. "I understand that you hate her. I understand that you have good reason to hate her. I understand that she wronged the person you most care about in the world, and you'd do anything to protect her."

Skandi shakes his head. "Luna knows, I understand that much, at least. But don't think about what you want, think about what Lookshy needs. Good left and right flank commanders, plus intelligence, plus a real sorcerous expert, plus a siege weapon named Versi, could make the difference between the legion arriving intact at the walls of Lookshy to lend its strength to the siege, and a few stragglers barely making it after Kharal Fire Orchid is ambushed and assassinated."

"I seriously doubt the Mask's forces are as omnipresent as you imply, Skandi." Zhou says after a moment's consideration. "His numbers are not endless, and ghosts have limitations of their own that counterbalance their strengths. There is a strong chance that he will have a number of scouts in the area, but not nearly enough that he can totally control our movement."

"As for the Deathknights... I rather expect they'll have work of their own to do. The one who shot down our airship was his supreme military commander - there is no way he can hang around this far from his own forces on the off-chance of intercepting a small group of enemy agents."

He frowns. "We cannot let paranoia and our enemy's reputation frighten us into inaction."

"Also, just to note," Ireva interjects quietly, "if Braga and Shard can get the Frostwing working - the weapon the Hand used seemed very similar to Versino's cannon. Which has a limited range, as I understand it. We were flying very low when we were shot down. Not hard to avoid making that mistake again."

"If we can't get the Frostwing working, then yes, staying with the army for the moment makes more sense, they're going in the right direction. But as Zhou says, Skandi, I don't think our options are as limited as you make them seem."

"As for the rest -" Ireva shakes her head, and her voice is tired. "Skandi, I didn't mention the Immaculates after Xet was taken away, except to apologize if I'd been disrespectful of her losses. I think that's a distraction - as you say, the issue is pride. She sees it as a challenge to imply that there might be any use for skills that she doesn't herself possess. We don't need fancy words, and we don't need any special knowledge. You think that's just surface bluster, that given time she'll realize she was wrong about that, and act on that realization even if she never admits it. And I do hope so. But I see no guarantee, and in the meantime, I'd be dealing with a commander who is actively trying to hamper me, and who is willing to use mind-twisting magic to quell dissent." She shrugs, and taps the gem herself. "I couldn't tell exactly what it did, but it seemed intended to get us to fall into line. Zhou and I both resisted it, it seems, and could tell that much." She leaves unspoken the obvious conclusion. "You're right, I do have skills she likely doesn't have. Some skills it's likely no one in Lookshy has, either. So again, the question is - will I serve better here, with a commander who for her own pride wants to prove me useless, or somewhere else?"

Her face is closed, showing little emotion: a trace of remembered unhappiness, of frustration. She tilts her head at Skandi. "Do you... hmm. You two talked after we left, I assume. Do you think you will be in a position to influence her opinions?"

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Yeah, ok, CoD discussion will be in the next post :smallwink: Still deferring to try to give time for industrious to answer questions, since I had quite a bit of other stuff I wanted to say.

She is actually not being fully open and honest here, although she means everything she's said so far - she suspects a lot of what she says may get back to Fire Orchid, especially if it's in the form of: "Actually I'm planning to stay so I can try to persuade her the Realm isn't so bad, on instructions from a Gold Faction agent". She likes Skandi, she trusts him, but she realizes their goals do not necessarily quite coincide, especially when he's just been mind-whammied by a Realm-hating Solar. She'd rather give the impression she's about to walk out, and make "persuading her to stay" something that feels like a victory for Skandi and/or Fire Orchid.

Skandi sighs, suppresses his urge to hit Zhou. "Your challenge aside, which I would be pleased to accept once the war to defend Lookshy is over - he doesn't need to be able to totally control our movement, he just needs to know where we are. He might be able to manage that with just sorcery, even if he doesn't want his scouts to follow us. But we're weeks' march from Lookshy; we'll have to sleep at some point, and probably to take off our armor in order to sleep. He just needs to drop off a pair of Abyssals while we're asleep and unarmored. It'll take them five minutes, plus transport time, even if he has no soldiers in the area to harass us."

He pauses. "I didn't notice anything when I touched the gem. Perhaps the mind control was only aimed at people who weren't cats? Or at people who don't have Lunar shaping-immunity tattoos?" And then considers... "If you're right about the Frostwing's climb, we may well be able to escape them. I don't think that's where we'll be the most useful, but you have a point. That does require that we could get it functional, though."

And a sigh.

"We did talk, and she has heard of me, and I do think that Skandi Dragonsbane can intercede for you. But I don't think it is bluster that made her say that, I think it was rage, and rage fades. When you said, we fought beside Immaculate monks in Nexus, less than a month ago, to protect a city of the Confederation from infernalists - and didn't mention it was only because we threatened to murder them all, he does not say - I think she decided that you were probably under Immaculate mind control yourself, especially if she knows about Sidereals, and that her own charm was an attempt to counter it. She doesn't have your gem, or know it exists, remember, and discovering that Xet vanished won't help. What will help is demonstrating that you're willing to risk your life for her soldiers. I don't think she'll put you to use as anything more than a sword-arm until the first battle, when you can throw yourself in the path of swords aimed at her soldiers and hack down enemies by the hundreds and prove you're reliable."

He gives them both serious looks.

"Also note that Lookshy sent you 'to kill her'. They want you here, for some reason. They have enough people on the walls; they need diplomats, not swords. What do we have that they need, that they can't get from all their exalts and gods and sorcerers?"

Zhou raises an eyebrow at the mention of a challenge, but puts it out of mind for the moment.

"That may be precisely the problem, Skandi." He says flatly. "Exactly why should we risk our lives for her soldiers? You keep speaking about how we need to prove ourselves and give her reason to trust us, but given that we were sent here to kill her - with no actual evidence save wild theorizing that maybe that wasn't the real intention behind our orders - I truly do not give two ****s whether she likes or trusts us. She tried to bend my mind. For that, I should kill her and spit on the corpse, and it is only because she is family and may be able to help Lookshy that I have not... well, that and I admit I would probably lose a one-on-one confrontation."

He shakes his head. "If Lookshy wanted an alliance, they would have sent an actual diplomat... or at the very least they would have told us that. Deniable operations are all very well and good, but you still give your operatives orders - you just lie about it later if required. You don't tell them to do precisely the opposite of what you actually want, and then hope that they'll piece things together out of a dozen fragmentary clues."

"We should risk our lives for her soldiers because it isn't a risk," he says. "We aren't cowards. We can take the hits. They can't. Mortals die from an infected scratch. We regrow arms. If you can save someone's life, you do."

His eyes narrow.

"She tried to bend your mind? And so you should kill her? The woman you married successfully bent the minds of everyone in the city of Nexus."

He could continue, could respond to the rest of Zhou's argument. Instead he lets those words lie there. Far too late to take them back.

"Which is an excellent reason to be back in Lookshy, defending the civilians I am sworn to protect, and not out here risking my life for trained soldiers. I cannot protect everyone, so I protect those who matter the most to me,"

At the second point, his eyes narrow. "And when Ireva realised what she had done, she practically broke down." He says flatly. "Insults aside, are you truly trying to tell me that I should find the notion of being enslaved to someone else's goals and ideals acceptable?"

Ireva reaches out to grab her husband's arm, but subsides at his response, more measured than she'd expected.

"You do not need to defend me here, love," she says mildly. But the tension that had subsided before has returned. Her back is very straight, her posture stiff, as she looks at Skandi.

"Yes. I did. So I know exactly what a Solar can do to people's minds, and how easy and how tempting it can be to impose your will with Charms, rather than doing things the slow hard way."

She bites off more words. Skandi doesn't know what happened on the Lucky Starr: doesn't know that she knelt before an Immaculate and asked Zhou to recount what had happened because she didn't trust herself to tell the story true. Doesn't know about the nightmares, and the details of the memories, and this is not the time to tell him.

She breathes out, slowly. "Skandi - if I thought there'd be a battle tomorrow, I'd gladly stay, and prove myself that way. I'd already asked Zhou, before you came here, to stay as long as the morning briefing, see how Fire Orchid behaves. If it was just a flash of anger - well, hopefully it will have cooled a little by then."

She turns to Zhou, her voice softening. "He does have a point, love. If these soldiers will fight against the Mask, every man they lose is a loss for Lookshy. Fire Orchid was speaking pure, undiluted truth when she spoke of her intentions, of her children, of her loyalty to her city. When she named herself Kazei. In that much, we can trust her. Think of her soldiers as Lookshy irregulars: it's probably very close to true, at least so long as Fire Orchid herself remains faithful."

Back to Skandi, face set in a mask of calm. "But Skandi, if you are asking me to wait for a month, more than a month, until she meets the Mask at the walls of Lookshy, if that is my first chance to win a chance to do more than march in line -" She shakes her head. "Then it will be too late, for my skills to change the outcome much at all. Which I cannot accept. Quite literally - it's a violation of a sanctified oath, as I informed Fire Orchid, and breaking it will ensure I am not worth a hundred swords at Lookshy, quite the contrary. It would be sabotage to my own side to have me fight, in those circumstances."

Her mouth twists. "An additional piece of information, for you both. This camp is full of creatures of darkness, condemned of the Sun. They're clustered in one particular area, but scattered through the camp as well - not ghosts, or if they are they're riding humans, our guard greeted one as a friend."

"Now, maybe Fire Orchid's just been recruiting every Ghost-Blood and Demon-Blood in this part of the Scavenger Lands - it would be sensible, if she wants officers who can use Essence. She would know what it can mean, to people outcast and shunned for their abilities, to be offered an honored place and a chance to make a difference."

"But... maybe not. Would the Mask interfere, do you think, with Fire Orchid escorting his agents safely to the walls of Lookshy? I'm sure she's in contact with her mother, however unofficial. Would the Mask object to Lookshy expecting reinforcements, that when they arrive, turn out to have a chain of command thoroughly infiltrated and suborned by his creatures? Or substitute 'Mask' with 'Yozi-Chosen' - I still don't know what Primal Elegance's role was in all this."

Her voice rises a little, rough with emotion inadequately suppressed. "Do you think I can afford to wait for Fire Orchid to trust me, Skandi, to believe that my skills might have value, when if you're right, the conditions for that trust are based entirely on choices our enemies make?"

She rubs her forehead, looking back and forward from Fire Aspect to Lunar. "I think this army is worth trying to save, Skandi, as you say. Zhou, I honestly think he's right about that - you can't throw away the potential gain to Lookshy of thousands of trained swords. It is more than you could accomplish by returning to Lookshy alone. And if we leave, I think we throw away that chance."

"But Skandi... that argument stops making sense if Fire Orchid is going to refuse to believe anything we say, and shut down anything we do to try to help."

Skandi sighs. Takes three deep breaths.

"If it wasn't for the creatures of darkness, I wouldn't think there was any chance we wouldn't have to fight before we meet the Mask. If he doesn't intend to send skirmishers and light troops and mercenary allies to slow us down and prevent us from reaching Lookshy, it's only because he intends to pull extra supplies out of thin air using his sorcery so he can swing his main army down on us, to crush us before he turns on the city. But we can always listen to her briefing, meet up with our allies again, and then decide with all of us in council."

"But I don't know about the Creatures of Darkness. They may be demon- or ghost- bloods, or they may have their clothes haunted, but if your theory is right, and if he intends to let us arrive as part of his plans - we should find somewhere else in the region to look for allies and abandon the army in the middle of the night, vanishing as quickly and carefully as possible. If that wasn't just a flash of rage, and she does intend to shut us down completely, and we aren't going to have a chance to prove ourselves, it will only be because the Mask of Winters or his allies control her, and we want to be as far away from her as possible."

Zhou frowns thoughtfully, then nods. "All right. I don't advocate leaving right now in any case. So we attend this meeting at dawn, get another look at how Fire Orchid acts and what her plan is. Then we make our decision."

"And... I should probably contact Braga, update him on the situation and see if we can get the team back in one place. We'll need that regardless of what else happens."