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  1. - Top - End - #151
    Titan in the Playground
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    Default Re: Oasis is Hell - Exalted 2ed - IC

    Of Kites and Flutes

    Tewi returns the swordsman's bow, lingering behind a moment with an apologetic half-smile as Vana moves on. "Well, it is as the Lady says. It seems the Keeper was not the only one with such intentions today. It is said you are high in her favour, and the reputation of your circle precedes you, but there is nothing left to conquer in that fiefdom but blood and dust."

    "At any rate, we shouldn't be late for our own appointment, so fare you well."
    With that, he hurries to avoid falling off the tail end of the procession, something that could be rather unfortunate with an army in their path.
    Wriggle avatar by memnarch.
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    Current characters:
    Faien
    Aya
    Sei

  2. - Top - End - #152
    Pixie in the Playground
     
    oramus's Avatar

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    Default Re: Oasis is Hell - Exalted 2ed - IC

    Isrukam lingers by the swordsman as his companions move away, the music becoming quieter as it faded into the distance. The man looks questioningly at Isrukam, and Isrukam stares back for a moment before speaking.

    "Do you recognise me, commander of legions?" the Eclipse inquires quietly, with the slightest edge of authoritative menace to his tone. "Do you know who I am, and my affiliation with your masters?"

    The absence of Vana's performance has left the area seeming strangely quiet, and Isrukam's words seem to silence it further; the assembled spectators that were moments ago dancing and singing begin to scatter, making warding gestures against the Silent Wind.

    "I ask you this because I must remain informed as to military activity in the vicinity of the Barony. As a military man yourself I'm sure you similarly appreciate the importance of vigilance."

    "So, with these facts in mind, I ask you - what does your mistress want with Zsofika?"

    The question hangs ominously in the air and the silence intensifies as Isrukam waits for the swordsman's answer.

    Spoiler
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    Isrukam isn't trying to blatantly pull rank on the commander with this, but he is trying to make sure the guy knows that he's not some random Exalt fishing for information. Status 2 should back this up at least a little; Isrukam can embellish the rest. He's also trying to play to the man's experience as a commander with the vigilance thing. Maybe it'll exploit an Intimacy or something, who knows.

    I'm gonna go nuts and use Irresistable Salesman Spirit on this which doubles successes before applying them to an MDV.

    (10d10)[9][10][4][8][9][8][1][1][8][7](65)
    Last edited by oramus; 2011-11-09 at 11:13 AM.

  3. - Top - End - #153
    Bugbear in the Playground
     
    Gargulec's Avatar

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    Default Re: Oasis is Hell - Exalted 2ed - IC

    Of Kites and Flutes


    Hundreds of eyes were tracing Vana's ever slightest gesture and movement, the armed blood apes unable to gaze down from the perfection of motion that even Ligier himself acknowledged. Only the black swordsman managed to keep his wits about him, not giving his mind to the dance wholesale.

    'The fiefdom, destroyed?' he asked, closing his eyes to concentrate, hand grasping the pommel of his blade as if he was not realizing the insult inherent in such gesture. 'Blood and dust? Zsofika escaped? This... cannot be! Acolyte!' he called, and the blood ape just next to him, adorned with a hourglass pendant of Cecelyne grunted.

    'No wars were reported, no claims of territory observed by us' he stated, his speech strangely fluent as for the creature he was, almost jarring when looking at his apish stature. 'Whatever happened, if the vassals of the Green Sun are to be believed, occurred without proper rites being observed. That is unacceptable! Cecelyne must observe all!'

    'What the acolyte said' slowly, as if unsure whether this was really a good way to try to resolve this situation, he put the second hand on the pommel, and with a grinding sound, drew the blade. It was an enormous sword of black iron, chipped at edges, more a slab of steel than an actual weapon. The strength of the swordsman had to be truly remarkable for him to wield such a weapon. It could most likely kill a tyrant-lizard with one blow. 'What is your game, Bringer of the Green Dawn? Were you the ones who destroyed the fiefdom?'

    He sighed, noticing that his army was still too deeply entranced by the Iron Wolf's dance to hear his orders. There was a calling in that display, something that creatures born of Malfeas' own essence could deny or resist. A few metody seeped through the cracks of the walls, from their secret pools only to gaze at the dance, to feel the beat.

    'My mistress sent me to retrieve Zsofika for her own agenda' he admitted, looking straight at the Crowned Sun, the words of the Lawgiver laced with subtle essence that made him answer despite himself 'I do not question her actions, I am merely a tool for her to use, and I accept such role gladly. Do not ask me' he shook his head, apparently understanding that he was made to tell things he should not have had told. 'What have you done?' he snarled, pointing the top of his massive sword towards Isrukam, the light Ligier shed drowning in the blackness of the blade. 'What is your game?'

    The Visits

    'Pain?' Alveua frowned, surprised, eagerly putting the cloth to her forehead, easing a bit 'Betrayal? Nothing to do with it' she shrugged. 'She is just an...'

    'Abomination' the Wandering Eye finished for the demon, standing up from the chair, the ring dancing between her fingers, inexplicably shinning, as if the wood itself held an essence most powerful. 'That is what I am. I guess I owe you an explanation, Lord Lawgiver. And treat it as a token of good will, a sign that I bear no ill will towards your agenda' her voice begun to distort slightly, as if a few distinct sounds converged with it, creating a subtle dissonance. The ring she held begun blur, so fast she was passing it between fingers, turning it into a burning wheel, sparks of gold and silver flashing in the shadow.

    And then, she stopped, closing her palm and swiftly passing into a series of an elaborate martial arts katas, her flowing movements strangely mimicking the whirling of the ring in her fingers moments ago.

    'What in the Unquestionables names is she?' the grudge was gone from the Keeper's voice, and her eyes were open wide, in shock. Whatever she was seeing in that weird show, it was something truly terrifying... or magnificent.

    The katas ground to a sudden halt, and the girl opened her eyes again - and it was impossible to miss the fact that they have changed their colour: they were now steel grey, gleaming like little pots of molten iron.

    'I was created on the day of two thousandth Calibration since the Victory over Primordials Mudra' her words were cold, flat, dull. Emotionless. As if she was an automata repeating something burnt into her memory, not a living person. 'My purpose was of an experiment by a Raksha noble, one of the sanskra. His name is now lost to me, for he perished before I forged my memories. I know that I was to be the capstone of his thousands of years of experimentation, I was to become his soul. Alas, he made a fatal mistake and perished from cold iron, leaving me without a purpose: and with only a barest shred of his power left within me. However, I apparently became interesting enough for a Lawgiver named who called himself The Crimson Spear that he decided to investigate me further. I remember being worked upon, and I know that what I am now is his legacy: perhaps his own essence he poured into my body affected the spark of Wyld inexplicably: I know that since the day I was left out of his grasp, I have not aged a single day. My life begun on that moment, though I did find my purpose until the time when trapped outside the borders of Creation, I found my way into a freehold that no longer exists and had my four Graces forged. My eyes opened then, and ever since, I have dedicated my every asset towards an act that would reverse my creation, and re-shape my soul into a proper Heart so I can join the ranks of the Princes of Chaos and claim the legend of my creator as mine.'

    She bowed, and without a word, with gestures both precise and elegant, threw the Ring into the air, launching into yet another series of katas, so quick that she had already finished as the grace fell into her open palm. The glow in her eyes shifted back.

    'Did I explain everything?' she asked, panting, her voice normal again.
    Last edited by Gargulec; 2011-11-09 at 01:41 PM.
    (02:10:41) Emily Lorn: that's beyond angsty
    (02:10:45) Emily Lorn: that's /depressing/
    (02:10:55) Emily Lorn: you're fired as my angst consultant for being overqualified
    ---
    Pink haired Sister of Battle avatar by Akrim.elf

  4. - Top - End - #154
    Pixie in the Playground
     
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    Default Re: Oasis is Hell - Exalted 2ed - IC

    Isrukam eyes the blade pointing at him warily, and holds his hands openly to show that he's currently unarmed. He feels shielded by the latent power of his anima, untouchable while claiming legitimate business, but the sword is extremnely intimidating nonetheless.

    "So quick to blame and to rise to anger; one who leads others should be grounded and thinking ever-forwards, not controlled by his own rage," Isrukam reproaches quietly. "You say you are here to conquer the Kite Flute's domain, and said domain lies before you undefended! Surely your mistress will be nothing but overjoyed with the news of a lossless victory." Isrukam voice raises in volume slightly, and it becomes filled with passion. As Essence winds its way into his words, they remain as soft as velvet but become as strong as steel, and his Caste mark suddenly bursts into radiant golden glory upon his brow.
    "And you ask 'what is my game?' I have no time for games, for my chosen task is too demanding. I think we both well understand duty and how attentive we must be to her demands. Hear this; you have nothing to fear from me, Commander of Legions, no! No need for fear or suspicion or hate! I am not your enemy, and I would suggest that you do not make yourself mine!" Isrukam exclaims loudly, before backing away from the swordsman, gently hopping onto Enlil's back and sending him buzzing through the air to rejoin the rest of the group.

    Spoiler
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    Isrukam is fed up of being accused and suspected, so he's gone a little crazy. He's attempting to allay the commander's suspicions and build an intimacy of allegiance of some sort, with a Cha+Pres roll + speciality for 11 dice, and he'll use 1st Presence Excellency to add 5 dice to the roll as well as spending 1wp for an automatic success.

    (16d10)[9][5][10][8][3][7][5][2][5][2][8][1][9][3][5][7](89)
    Last edited by oramus; 2011-11-09 at 02:37 PM.

  5. - Top - End - #155
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    Default Re: Oasis is Hell - Exalted 2ed - IC

    Grimnir


    The god gave Oriasta a strange, sort of worried look.

    'An Infernal?' he glanced again towards the alight sky 'On the wedding? But... uh... well... so... that solves the question of those strange lights, though. Heh. Good that he did not manage to harm you, that would be... bad, right? And a mysterious man, right?' he made sure 'And he... vanished, right?' each word coming from his mouth was slower than the one before, as if he was talking to someone with problems with perceiving reality. 'But your essence is right? No disruptions to the domain, yes?''

    He seemed genuinely worried, his eyes wide, his hands trembling in fear that maybe something terrible had happened to Oriasta, or even worse, to her domain.
    (02:10:41) Emily Lorn: that's beyond angsty
    (02:10:45) Emily Lorn: that's /depressing/
    (02:10:55) Emily Lorn: you're fired as my angst consultant for being overqualified
    ---
    Pink haired Sister of Battle avatar by Akrim.elf

  6. - Top - End - #156
    Halfling in the Playground
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    Default Re: Oasis is Hell - Exalted 2ed - IC

    Punch and Min slowly walk back to Bartertown and return to the Forge. Fluffy returns and is sent off to reassure the treasured Fertility Goddess, and Punch and Min retire to their private room... but you don't want to hear about what happens there do you? No, of course not and a dark curtain descends. Instead you want to know, what is the place like? What would someone new to the area see about the town known only as Bartertown?

    You are in luck, that is exactly what is here.


    From a distance, it is clear that Bartertown is different from some of the other places in Oasis. The simple fact that it rises a full five stories up in places and is surrounded by a sparkling Paris Green wall 30 feet high speaks much of the rapid construction. The green forest to one side of the city wall gives an almost Creation feel to the place. There are many areas and buildings within the small sprawling town, as well as far FAR more warehouses, exchange houses and various small manufacturing locations... far more than would likely ever be needed for it's human population at least. As one approaches the city gate, the first thing one sees is the main Arch of the Laws. A towering structure of resin, brass and the bones of deal breakers, carved with the handful of laws that govern the lands. A bound demon idly waits at the base of the arch offering to tell any that ask of the laws should they be unable to read them.

    The laws are few and simple and can be summarized even more simply. Don't misrepresent yourself or your products. Slavery isn't illegal, but improper slaving is. Disputes will be settled by the judges via memory extraction if need be. If both parties agree they may instead settle disagreements via contest in The Arena of Meditative Discussion instead. Attempting to extract goods, services or information via force is illegal unless it is within the bounds of an existing contract. Any crime of theft or misrepresentation shall be punished by a fine of five times the value of the goods or misrepresented contract, with two parts being submitted to the victim, one part to the judge and security squad, and two parts for the maintenance and expansion of the city.

    Walking through the giant gates of silver glass, it is apparent that the walls of the town are coated in some transparent and reflective material. Apparently used to provide the sparkle effect to the otherwise unadorned walls. Given how... utilitarian so much of Oasis is it strikes people as unusual.

    Entering the city itself, there are broad roads leading in various directions, strictly speaking far too broad for the minor amount of traffic they see, but when a "road" is little more than an area that doesn't have buildings upon it and where the brass has been roughed up to help provide traction... it is perhaps understandable. Giant signs of carved brass point the way to the gate to Malfeas itself, to the gate that leads to the higher plane and new home of the gods, and to the docks. Lesser signs, most with far more garish decoration point the way to areas of common interest,... The Forge, the school, The Prayer Mill, Gods Alley, The Whore Pits, Thunderdome, Artificer Row, The Last Stop as well as some of the more popular taverns and public houses, many with minor notes indicating preferred or forbidden customer types (Zweig's: The Loosest Dabo Girls Around!) (Hargar's House of Ribs: Don't ask, we won't tell) (The bottomless barrel brothel: we put you over a barrel! No citizens allowed without advanced contracts) (Krull's Distillery and brewpub: No mortals allowed). Finally adorning almost every available surface, on top of the overly colorful walls are posters. Some advertising people or services, many reminding people of the dangers of overindulgence and urging restraint and a focus on a dedication to productivity.

    The buildings... can only be described as chaotic and garish. Any visitor can be reasonably certain there has been no place in the history of Creation with a more mish-mashed architecture or conflicting colour schemes. Buildings of etched brass and silver glass are besides giant resin structures composed of the most brilliant and clashing colours. Simple warehouses of paper-thin tin and copper are next to giant translucent shells. Push carts line the streets selling everything from stuffed toy dolls to celestial cocaine... often from the same cart. Anyone that is a visitor or who looks lost is immediately surrounded by people and demons offering to act as a guide for a reasonable fee. Hiring such a guide will quickly provide the visitor with much needed information, such as the multiple currencies that are in use ranging from silver and jade, to more esoteric currencies such as copper talent tokens or the PU or Prayer Unit issued and redeemed exclusively by the Prayer Mill. Such a guide would also answer the most common question of why the town is the size of a city, and so filled with demons... indeed there are as many if not more demons here than Humans. The answer in both cases is Punch, the one that founded the town.

    Anyone and everyone is welcome here, provided they follow the laws. Anyone that breaks the laws, be they demon, human or god is not. A simplistic system, but one that works. The ones that control town from Master, a midget Aalu that is the second highest Judge to whom a dispute can be referred or Blaster, a wise giant of a Blood Ape are bound to by Punch to the service of the town and the laws. They in turn have some bound unit leaders who in turn have a number of employees to aid them. By far the largest group is commonly called the D.C.E., or Demonic Corps of Engineers. Composed of a core group of loyal demons, anyone can approach them and request the use or alteration of a building... barring good reason not to, they grant it for a minor fee or favor, particularly if it is something that a builder bug squad can do in short order such as a resin building. In their idle time they have started producing housing kits for sale in Oasis, with the intention that they be quick to assemble basic houses. Oddly enough, there is a far greater market in Hell for these quick-assemble structures that have become known as Roebucks that could ever exist in Oasis.

    Warnings would be passed to avoid the forest area outside of the town walls. It is a testing ground and dumping ground for the results of artifice of all sorts. The trees that grow strong and quickly in the brass plain, with trunks of brown and leaves of green are toxic. The leaves are almost pure arsenic compounds and the trunks while brown are mostly copper and tin. The Vine-Melons that grow may look tasty but the melons eat the nearby trees... and any slow moving mortals or demons. Pools of spent acids, pools of liquid Pyre flame all exist here are are periodically gathered by crafters seeking the exotic and strange. Giant 8 foot tall chickens roam the forest eating anything they can and breathing fire. Just last month, the first quarterly Race Through the Wastes was held, daring contestants to travel across the forest a full 13 times over in a mandala pattern of praise to Malfeas. A full quarter of the contestants survived.

    The Arena of Meditative Discussion, commonly called the Thunderdome by the locals stands stands barely a story above ground level, discounting the framework of brass rods that form a dome over it. Upon entering it, visitors rapidly realize that it extends downward into an etched pit, with layer upon layer of carved brass benches overlooking the central arena-pit. It is clearly overbuilt and built with attention to detail, as you could easily fit 20,000 people in it with little trouble and every bench is etched with decorations. It's unlikely it's ever seen more than 500. Epic poems and images praising the Incarnate, the Yozi and a woman from some place called "Nantucket" adorn every available surface. Transparent sheeting forms a low wall around the arena area, shielding the watchers from flying debris and rendering it slightly more difficult for a competitor to reach a spectator to turn into an improvised weapon.

    The office of Slavery and Final Solutions, or as it's more commonly known The Last Stop. It the place to file ownership over other people, to have slavery, indentured servitude, or murder contracts filed that they are properly recognized should the matter ever be in dispute. Black resin rising three stories up, topped with a giant brass shell, it is also the market place of the desperate. When one becomes so in debt, so desperate they come to this place and can seek to put themselves into an indentured servitude or even slavery to pay off debts. The many bound demons and employees of the place do their best to help people find a minimum commitment for maximum value but sometimes, just sometimes, people have more debts to pay off than even a slave could pay for. Sometimes after much effort and hope, they make the decision that instead of trying to run away to Port Wrath or one of the other areas, they decide to ascend the stairs to the brass shell office that adorns the top of the building. They ascend to the office of Thosun. Who is polite, courteous and verifies that they have gone through the other options and are there willingly... And then he enslaves them. More often than not, he simply turns around and sells the slaves right back in the community after they have been broken, taking a loss. In fact Punch has a standing contract and rates depending on the skills of the slaves.

    Arranging a murder there is easy, as many assassins and thugs have taken to hanging around for people looking for a spur of the moment contract. The contractee and contractor merely sit down and fill out the paperwork to prove that the desired murder is in no way financially beneficial and is a purely personal matter, and the contractor receives a ticket with a seal upon it to show should law enforcement ask any questions about his activities. Of course several people last month tried the old "I'll kill your partner if you kill mine" trick... They are currently decorating the arch.

    The sand docks are one of the few areas outside of the city wall but are still a part of the city. Possessing anchor lines and tow lines, the docks are fully capable of handling dozens of cargo vessels at once, and the dock masters charge a quite reasonable fee for the upkeep of the docks and ship maintenance. To date, the most number of ships that have been there at any one time was five.

    The Whore Pits are much what they sound like, where women and men sell themselves to mortal or demon offering services according to whatever price is best suited in some highly garish buildings, even by the standards of Bartertown. Be it taking a virgin or finding a mortal to bear your child, this is the place to look for bargains galore.

    The School is the single largest organization in the town, and has many former Guildsmen there, and in fact is overseen by an Eclipse named Legate Dukat. It is the place to go to trade goods or more commonly services and education. No matter if you are looking for an Neomah to teach you that tongue thing, basic education for your child, instructions for drug creation or trading for anything from cloth to weapons, this large region is the place to go.

    The Prayer Mill is one of the largest of all buildings in the town, standing a full five stories high. Even with the aggressively enforced laws, they still maintain a standing force of demons and humans protecting the combined warehouse and dormitory building. This is primarily because it is the building with the greatest concentration of valuable and portable goods in the whole town... most likely in all of Oasis. It overseen by a dragon blooded by the name of Tepet Tarmac, who will sell the services of those that work there to the most profitable bidder. Anyone can go to the Prayer Mill and buy a prayer. Ranging from simple prayers of thanks, to multi-day multi-day prayers with sacrifices they can all be purchased for the right price. During the spare time, he keeps people focused on prayer to the Immaculate Dragons, in a personal effort to try and strength or restore them, and thereby Creation. He knows there is little chance of it working in his heart, but his deeply felt faith compels him to try... even if it is futile. The latest venture the prayer mill has embarked on is population increase. Besides identifying and contacting Creation-Born that they feel would do well there, they are using Demon beckoning rituals. They identify specific demons that they feel would make for good citizens of Bartertown and call to them offering them a legitimate way to live under a set of rules slightly better than those of Hell.

    Conveniently located across the street from the Prayer Mill is a small tea house of note run by a Dragon Blooded formerly of Lookshy known as Seven Reeds. Called The Immaculate Faith, the tea house specializes in vegetarian dishes and a delightful beer-substitute made with sarsaparilla root. It is noteworthy for it's extensive restrictions. Not only is it limited to humans, it limits it's custom to priests of the Elemental Dragons (and their guests) and those that pay honor to the Elemental Dragons.

    Finally, in the tour of architectural wonder is The Forge. It is a giant pentagonal building, fully five stories above ground and at least that many down, it is a vast structure of furnaces, quenching ducts, rooms to act as labs and blast-safe channels. Five Great Smokestacks never stop as brass is smelted into arsenic, tin and copper, as goods of Creation are reworked into salable form, and exotic pigments are created for the use of artists... even as the remains of demonic animals are converted into some of the most palatable foodstuffs available to the people of Oasis.

    Anyone wanting to use the facilities of the place are welcome for a small percentage fee, and almost all of the crafters of the town do. From artists to artificers the clang of hammers and the crunch of more organic components never ceases. The flow of raw materials and finished goods is continual, as brass slag is brought in by the truckload, only to be smelted, processed, subdivided and worked. The brass scrap that arrives today will no doubt leave in a few days as an assortment of human made copper clocks, demon made healing powders, shiny mirrors and a wide assortment of statues and artwork, almost all bound for the demonic realm.

    Apart from the gates to the other realms, this completes your tour of the town... so now is a good time to find an ale house, order a plate of no-questions-answered ribs and relax. And don't forget to tip your guide.
    Last edited by Odd_Canuck; 2011-11-09 at 04:20 PM.
    Odd_Canuck is not a topical medication or food product and is not to be taken internally or seriously.

  7. - Top - End - #157
    Dwarf in the Playground
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    Default Re: Oasis is Hell - Exalted 2ed - IC

    Rose frowned. There was a clink as the broadsword came near Iskurum. "...Do not threaten him." she said- incredibly quiet, but loud enough to be heard, her voice was cold-. Her fangs flashed. "...He speaks only the truth." she did not particularly like the Eclipse- he was just a Solar, and she had no particular opinion on him-, but she was traveling with him at the time, so at the least she needed to pretend to care and protect him, she kind of felt like it was her job, at least.

    "If you are going to...point a sword at someone, point it at someone who will punish you for it..."

  8. - Top - End - #158
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    Default Re: Oasis is Hell - Exalted 2ed - IC

    ”Don’t worry, I am uninjured,” she responded, casting a quizzical look at the other god, ”The Infernal wasn’t able to harm me before I fled and, as for the intruder, he seems to have left without causing any damage.” Glancing around her Sanctum and down at herself, she inspected everything, once again, for any signs of taint or damage. No, not anything that she could see….

    ”Is something the matter, Twice-Praised Keeper of the Sanctity? You seem troubled.”
    "There is only one difference between a madman and me. I am not mad.." - Dali

  9. - Top - End - #159
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    Default Re: Oasis is Hell - Exalted 2ed - IC

    Things Lost and Broken
    While the others drank, Jania worked her way through the crowd one by one, seeing if any of them had heard about the solar's passage. After all, there was no way it had been at all subtle, given her personality. Surely someone here had heard something... And the hints of payment she dropped as she worked her way through the room were sure to loosen some lips sooner or later.

    Spoiler
    Show

    investigation + app + 2: (9d10)[10][6][7][6][3][2][5][4][8](51)

  10. - Top - End - #160
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    Things Lost and Broken

    The tavern became rowdy again, the tension no longer there. Patrons returned to their rugs and mugs, the barkeep poured a round... and then another and another to the fire-duck, engaging her in a conversation in Firetongue neither Jania nor Artificer could understand but which was clearly greatly pleasing to both the mortal and the elemental - and the Dragon-King as well. He was not drinking himself, but seated himself on the ground, with the flame-maned girl quickly jumping onto his lap, much to the chagrin of those few locals who had theirs hopes on getting a chance to get something out of her. The golden daiklave he strapped to his back, as if fearing that someone would be bold enough to try to steal it - and that seemed far-fetched, especially given the sheer terror that arose in the eyes of mortals when the anklok moved more swiftly than usual... and despite that fact that Artificer could almost feel the bubble of silence and averted glances that grew around him, he could hardly hope to match such an air of intimidation.

    At first, Jania's inquires brought her little, if any information. Nobody has seen anything, nobody has recognized anyone, as if the passage of Arianna went completely unnoticed - or, for some reason, people of Port Wrath decided to not notice.

    And then, just when she was about to abandon the vain attempts at getting any pointers, a delicate hand grasped her by the shoulder.

    'Pretty ones such as you' she heard a sensual, audible whisper in her ear, aimed more at the observers. A whisper filled with promises of pleasure and passion - a voice of a succubus 'should not go without proper attention... adoration, don't you think?'

    Someone in among the riff-raff whistled loudly, drawing attention of others towards the pair - and Jania could not notice that the arm that nimbly slipped around her was lavender in colour, wrapped in a snow-white robe.

    'Come, I shall make it worth your while' the neomah kept on whispering loudly, and at the Jadeborn just felt the many gazes of the gathered patrons. 'You will like it, I promise...'

    At the same time, her long, agile finger seemingly dancing over the Artistan's chest begun to trail a sigil, and then another and another, forming a few interesting words, out of the eyes of those around - and yet, Jania perfectly understood the unwritten words.

    "I know" they said "of her".

    Grimnir

    He nodded solemnly, his face growing grim.

    'I am not going to lie, Oriasta' he whispered quietly 'but there is a certain tension on the Island, you can feel it, right? Every god can... things are not the way they should be...'

    He walked to a brush - incidentally, the same one that the stranger calling himself Grimnir plucked a rose from - looking at the flowers as if there was an answer to his problems there.

    'Elementals ruling over us as if they were better' he murmured, anger and sadness mixing in his voice. 'The terrestrial rabble taking our places, taking our essence, our ambrosia... You know how twisted and vile this is, don't you?'

    'There must be a change!' he sighed heavily 'Someone has to usher the return of the just order. This cannot be that a triumvirate of glorified river-spirits commands as if they were the heads of the bureaus, this cannot last.'

    The god walked to you, starring. Chewy hissed quietly at him, but Keeper did not seem to notice.

    'The usurping dragons, they like you' he stated, and that was... not entirely true. But his delusions he had to nurture. 'You could help us bring back the good days... you could reap much benefits from it, you know... he added, maybe even in spite of himself.
    Last edited by Gargulec; 2011-11-09 at 05:49 PM.
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  11. - Top - End - #161
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    Grimnir



    Oriasta patted Chewy’s head, trying to soothe the little beast. ”Oh,” she said, blushing and clearing her throat. ”Well….”

    The goddess thought about the dragons in question, lesser elemental dragons who, thanks to the relative scarcity of their necessary and life-giving elements, had quickly been growing in puissance, political power, and arrogance. This was not the first time she’d heard murmurs about other gods being displeased with the elementals, but she’d paid the attention little mind. Unique among the gods, Oriasta had rarely concerned herself with personal power or devotion… but this was a brand new world….

    Oriasta looked down at the little elemental in her arms. Even to her, Elementals lording over gods just felt wrong. The nice part of Oriasta, which was a substantial part, felt like everyone should be working together, for the good of their fledgling society. The smaller part of her that was preprogrammed to be divine railed at the idea that a mere elemental was seen as more indispensible than the embodiment of the proliferation of life. What could be more important, to a species, than proliferation? Mere survival was a temporary situation… on a long enough time-curve, life is 100% fatal. But reproduction – that way lies immortality.

    ”I suppose I could speak to the dragons,” she said, her voice far away, not entirely convinced. ”Maybe we could all better use our resources. Work together to make life for the humans better,” she said it, and she meant it… probably.

    ”Maybe we should talk to the Incarnae?” she offered, ”I’m sure Sol Invictus would be able to help get things working properly again.” Her voice was full of confidence – she believed with all of her heart that the Unconquered Sun could fix everything and make everyone happy.

    But even with that confidence, Oriasta’s mind immediately went back to the far-off dead look in Venus’s eyes that morning.

    A chill wind blew through the Sanctum of Glass and Flowers.
    "There is only one difference between a madman and me. I am not mad.." - Dali

  12. - Top - End - #162
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    The Visits

    Bartrand rubbed his chin. This was not a good idea. The potential side effects could be insanely dangerous, but maybe they were controllable. It would take research. "What you're asking for, I think I know how to accomplish it. However, it would take a Wyld source, which I don't have. Furthermore, it would take lots of time and research to ensure the procedure could be completed safely and correctly." Bartrand stood and began to pace about the room. There were so many factors to control for, so many variables in the equations.
    Bartrand stopped suddenly, broken out of his trance. "Let's say I do agree to help you, it will take a lot of my time and effort to ensure the procedure works, what's in it for me?" Bartrand watched both women for reaction, Alveua especially. He hasnt agreed to anything yet, and everyone knew it, but he did not want to anger her just yet. He hoped she trusted him enough to see this line of discussion through.

  13. - Top - End - #163
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    The Visits

    The one called the Wandering Eye smiled triumphantly, sparing Alveua not even a single glance.

    'Should you help me, I shall help you' she said, the ring on her finger growing darker and darker until it dispersed into a wisp of shadow. 'To the fullest extent of my skills and memories, I will assist you in your efforts, whatever they may be, monstrous or humane, beautiful or abhorrent' the shade begun to circle her, leaving a faintest of all trails behind, a dark stain on the gloom of the manse, yet so clear, so perfectly visible. 'I will not second-guess nor disobey, I will be yours body, mind and soul for as long as the day of the glorious metamorphosis is brought closer by your help.'

    The runes flashed in the trail of darkness, for a moment showering the workshop with a radiance of Wyld crazed stars, five long threads of silver and red wrapping around the the fae-bloods ankles, wrists and neck, binding them with a gleaming sign reading "Oathsworn".

    'By the Ring that defines me, I am bound' her words rang with an unnatural echo, as if they were the climax of the ritual. The light faded, the Ring flickered out of existence and the silence befell the chamber.

    Until a slow clapping broke it.

    The Keeper of the Forge of Night, with a wicked smile on her face clapped her hands loudly, the dull sound having something very vicious in it.

    'You have my congratulations, Bartrad' a smile on her face was mirthless and full of malice - though it was hard to tell whether it was the Solar who was the target of it, or the girl. 'You have a slave now... an expensive toy to do as it pleases you'

    'Slave?' the Wandering Eye snarled 'You can't have me demon, so stop trying to humiliate me...' with the Cup suddenly appearing in her hand, the fae-blooded raised it in a mock toast towards the demon 'for you humiliate only yourself.'

    'Don't fool yourself, wretch' Alveua retorted, smirking. 'As long as Bartrand will one day transform you into a real fae' there was barely hid mockery in those words 'you are his plaything, nothing more. And you know what?' she asked, almost dancing to Bartrand, wrapping her arm around him, and smiling with a striking mixture of hate and triumph. 'He likes me.'

    Grimnir

    'The Incarnae...' for a brief moment, his face showed true sorrow, something reaching deeper than anyone could try to mimic. It was as genuine as it could only get. 'They are... outside our reach. Especially Him.'

    He snapped out of it quickly, though, stroking a delicate flower, the breeze making him tighten his robes and

    'And thank you for your help' he smiled in spite of himself 'the Dragons will surely listen to you: and I could not ask for more.'

    Bowing deeply, he begun to slowly walk towards the door.

    'Thank you again, Oraista. And pay me a visit when you're able, I would be most glad to have you as a guest... ah! I almost forgot!' he scenically exclaimed, his arms swinging madly as if to highlight how genuine his forgetfulness was. 'The Dragon of Water wants to see you later today... It seems important!'
    Last edited by Gargulec; 2011-11-10 at 09:28 AM.
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  14. - Top - End - #164
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    Of Kites and Flutes

    Tewi stops halfway to Vana, turning back to the swordsman as Isrukam speaks and blades are drawn, and glances between the two choices for a moment. Oh, sod it, if there's a time to get involved, it's before the swords start clashing. I can barely dance, what good will I do over there?

    Moving up next to the commander before he can take Rose up on her offer, Tewi lays a jade-clad hand upon the demon's blade, gently moving it a few inches to the side and stepping in front of him. "Look, I'm a mercenary too. I know what it's like when a job runs into unexpected complications. But at the moment, we are on an official diplomatic mission from the Barony of the Lesser Ones to the Manse of Echoes Ascending, and we have neither the time nor the inclination to get involved in territorial disputes. Maybe there was a war or a claim of territory or something, but we didn't see anyone else on our way through, so if you want to know what happened before reporting to the Keeper, you'll have to go look for yourself. As tempting as it can be to beat your answers out of the nearest bystanders - and believe me, I'm hardly immune to that temptation myself - this isn't the time or place for it."

    "And speaking from personal experience..." Tewi lowers his voice to a murmur, rolling his eyes and rubbing his neck. "...you don't want to annoy the Knight if you like your blood where it is."
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  15. - Top - End - #165
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    Grimnir



    Oriasta blinked. ”Oh… it… did?” she asked, a bit bewildered.

    A more devious goddess would have found the timing of the request and the sudden, accidental forgetting of an important message to be hilariously suspicious. It was an inept enough bit of misdirection to be almost cute, to someone for whom subterfuge came easily. Of course, Oriasta was not that goddess, so the sudden and unexpected summons simply confused and disoriented her.

    ”Well, alright... that’s convenient I suppose. Do you know what it wants?”
    "There is only one difference between a madman and me. I am not mad.." - Dali

  16. - Top - End - #166
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    Of Kites and Flutes


    The grinding sound of the sword being sheeted almost muffled the tormented sigh of the army's commander.

    'Chasing Unquestionables, are not you?' he murmured, bowing his head and spitting on the pavement. 'Screw this, you don't pay me nearly quite enough for this' he added in an angered, hushed voice, motioning you to carry on. 'Go, I'm not going to obstruct your glorious passage any more.'

    Having said that, he turned towards his army and started barking orders, the blood-apes returning to formation reluctantly, beginning to march towards the fiefdom they were to claim once more - or whatever remained of it, anyway. Their footsteps resonated through the brass walls, sending small tremors behind and after them - in a manner akin to a bearing of a giant drum. On an afterthought, it was not hard to find it very ironic.

    Neither Rose nor Tewi had any troubles with catching up with Vana's procession - it moved at slow, festive pace, so to make the demons around better able to witness it and marvel at it. For truly, it was a thing to be marvelled at.

    Suddenly, Zsofika broke off the dance, grinding to an abrupt halt, a wicked adorning her face.

    'Now' she said, looking at Enil circling above 'having gone past distractions, I believe it is a time for us to hit the stride and reach the manse-body before the Gerbe ends above.'

    No more did she say to you, turning towards one of the side-alleys... and starting to run.

    And all you could do was to follow.

    The streets of Malfeas blurred around you, images, sounds and scents mingling into one. Tall spires of brass and jet, the ringing of the footsteps on a cracked green-iron bridge over the bottomless silver that is Gostvade, crazed dancers drinking the waters of Herga as it fell onto them, lost in their own world, beyond all that misery and grief.

    Smoke-carried fragrances of blood and sweat. Music echoing from every corner and window, be it a harp, a bell or a horn or something stranger still, echoing and filling the streets with endless cacophony of sounds that somehow managed to flow into moments of perfect harmony every now and then.

    Palanquins of the elevated ones sailing over the heads of common rabble, the faces of those inside hidden beyond the silk veils, Priests of Cecelyne observing the rites of the Demon-City, punching and rewarding according to their own twisted law. Battles raging on the plazas and alleys, seemingly without reason, yet no less bloody in the end.

    A tomescu fighting off three angered demons you could not even begin to describe, his many armed limbs flowing in an off the mist that shrouded his body and drawing a little bit of blood with every strike.

    Glimyne dancing a dance so intense that the walls itself closed on them, the spirit in the brass ripping itself free to witness the sacred art - and spelling doom to those demons unfortunate enough to dwell within the broken wall.

    A broken corpse of a naneke hung from a gibbet, with a swarm of strange carrion eaters with the heads of wasps and bodies of an oversized crows picking at it, ripping the skin and meat from the body, to the cheers of the audience of other naneke, content to see less competition in their pursuit of knowledge.

    Erymanthoi raping an angylkae in a small nook next to the main road, the harpist not stopping to play even as she wept and struggled, the music mournful and tragic and yet beautiful beyond imagination - and thus pleasing to a small crowd of demons gathered around, listening to the haunting tune in nigh-perfect silence.

    All that you have seen, and many more.

    There was a plaza you reached after an hour of a frantic chase through the streets and alleys, a plaza were marottes dismantled a building with a childish glee, oblivious to the screams and struggles of demons trapped inside by their actions. But something else was important here: a tall stairway, spiral and thin, hanging from the the air itself, without any supports or railing, reaching high into the sky, towards a great jet aqueduct above: a road sung into existence by Jacint.

    Without hesitation, Zsofika hopped on the first step, and the next one and next one, making you do the same. Even without her chimes, she was a fascinating thing to watch in motion, such effortless and endlessly intriguing was the grace of her movements.

    And so, you ascended, until instead of steps and an endless drop onto the streets, there was a road of black stone beneath your feet. It was silent here, only barest shreds of music: for endless corpses had strewn the work of Jacint, a deed done by the one who's love is more destructive that her hate.

    The Silent Wind had been here before you.

    But you had no time to contemplate that, for Zsofika did not stop running - and you had to run, too.

    In some ways, from high above, the chaos of Demon-City appeared magnificent: the emerald light glistening on the brass, drowning in basalt, the mad architecture looking almost like a deranged, yet still masterful work of art.

    The body-manse you have heard before you have seen it: for it was an echo more than a place, a subtle song playing in the back of one mind, a tune both familiar and alien, alluring and repelling at the same time. It resonated through the air, weaving itself into the sounds of mundane; in a footstep, in a jagged breath, in a curse or laughter it was to be found.

    As the music intensified, so you grew closer to Amalion's manse of this layer: yet, it was nowhere to be seen, hidden or obscured from an eye. But your guide knew of it, for at every turn or intersection of the road of Jacint, she did not have any problems with picking the right path - so you followed, trusting.

    But even your trust had to come to a sudden end as you reached a dead end, a perilous drop into the city far, far below - and saw Zsofika dive right in, as if the road to Amalion led through such a suicidal act.
    Last edited by Gargulec; 2011-11-10 at 03:27 PM.
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  17. - Top - End - #167
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    To Rose, the cruelty and excess of the Demon Realm was nothing to her. She did not know these demons, and did not care. By He Who Held In Thrall, she somewhat knew Zsofika- considering it was her hair that was wound about her book until she gave it to someone else-, and she would not have stopped to help her had it been that demon in any of those situations. Of course, Isrukam was strange enough to want to help them, so she had to follow behind him instead of going in front.

    Though, there was one time she bothered to turn her attention from the chase of Zsofika to deal with it. When she saw the Blood Ape plying his disgusting trade, Rose shrugged. She threw several knives down the nook, striking the watchers and the blood-ape, leaving the harp player unharmed. "Ugh..." she muttered, looking at her hand. "My fingers slipped." she said, loudly, to make it obvious she certainly had not actually cared about the act going down, and it was absolutely by accident that she had thrown the knives directly at the spectators and rapist to kill them. "What a waste of knives.", she finally added, to press upon the group that she really did not care. It was just that her fingers slipped when she pulled out her knives and they accidentally went down the nook and hit the people watching. then went back to ignoring all the horrible things going on, and raised not a finger to help them.

    When Zsofika leaped, however, she did not paused. There was nothing to fear from heights, so she jumped into the air as well, her hair flying into the sky, her book jangling loudly, as she floated, before dropping straight down, after the demon. "...Try not to die." she offered over her shoulder.

  18. - Top - End - #168
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    Jania stiffened at the touches, about to push whoever it was away... when she noticed the message traced out on her skin. Well, that changed things a bit. If someone was going to the trouble of relaying something so simple secretly, there had to be a bit more going on here than she realized. Time to play along for a bit. She spun around in her 'informant''s grip, putting on a quick smile as she wrapped an arm around them to tap out her own message in response. "Oh? Where... can you... explain?"

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  19. - Top - End - #169
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    Isrukam follows Zsofika atop Enlil on a meandering path high above the streets of Malfeas, trading jokes with the agata that the other barely understood, and even then only after a comprehensive explanation. Humour in hell was... different to say the least, it seemed.

    Isrukam stops in surprise mid-sentence as he sees Zsofika fling herself over the precipice's edge, being closely followed by Rose. Enlil weaves gracefully through the air directly above the drop. He turns to look at Isrukam and, by Sol, though it shouldn't be possible for an agata, Isrukam swears he sees a mischievous expression on the exquisite face.

    A split second later, Enlil dives vertically downwards, with Isrukam clinging on perhaps a little more than was necessary. The demon wasp's wings vibrate so quickly they become a blur of colour and a thrumming buzz, reflecting wildly shifting patterns of multicoloured light around them. The last traces of Isrukam's anima stream behind as they plummet downwards to create a brilliant shining trail; a golden comet surrounded by a rainbow halo shooting through the darkness to whatever lay beneath them.
    Last edited by oramus; 2011-11-10 at 05:55 PM.

  20. - Top - End - #170
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    The cruelty of the demon realm is easy to see, and it sparks mixed feelings in Vana- disgust and sympathy. She is repulsed, but feels the need to bring a better life to the broken city.

    Knives flick out to right one wrong, despite Rose's protests at doing so. Vana, however, decides for a somewhat different approach, and as the ape falls dead, she snatches up the unfortunate angylkae and sweeps it away from the crowd, carrying it along with her on their mad rush, probably to its great confusion.

    As Zsofika hurtles herself off the edge, Vana follows. There was precious little time to decide what to do, but Vana decided to put her faith in Zsofika. She does not pause, but races to the edge and leaps off, stretching out her arms as she plummets from the cliff.

  21. - Top - End - #171
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    Things Lost and Broken

    The tavern, as far as the Artificer of Ten Thousand Blasphemies felt, was a complete waste of their time. He was able to find nobody who was willing to so much as give him the time of day, much less useful information on the passage of the Solar Arianna. Those who at least did not simply 'blow him off' as the living termed it claimed to have no information - and the Artificer was unable to tell whether their words were truth or falsehood. The anklok was hardly finding any information either, his capacity for intimidation causing loose lips to tighten even better than those around the Artificer. And even though the jadeborn at least seemed to be able to find people willing to talk to her, unlike both himself and the anklok, if her expression was anything to by - although he would be the first to admit he was usually a poor judge of the living - she was having no greater success than he.

    That is, until the neomah - the Artificer was able to identify the demon as such with ease - wrapped her - its? - self around the jadeborn. The jadeborn's expression was curious... And he was not sure he could entirely interpret it correctly.

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  22. - Top - End - #172
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    Things Lost and Broken


    They say that the touch of Jadeborn Artistians is a magic unto itself, that it does wonders beyond wildest dreams... and there had to be some truth in that, for as Jania was spinning around, with the demon in her arms and writing her message through the neomah's chest and back, she could see the demons eyes suddenly shooting wide open, blackening until they were two orbs of darkness.

    A long, blissful gasp exited her mouth, and as if not controlling her own movements, she pressed herself tightly to the jadeborn, a pair of brazen earring she wore jingling quietly.

    'Oh...' she managed to moan 'amazing.'

    Of course, the entire gathered audience was ogling the pair without any regrets nor remorse, waiting for the action to unfold. A few were cheering.

    'She does that often, doesn't she?' one particularly drunk man put his hand on Artificer's shoulder, smiling, presenting all the teeth he lacked to the Abyssal - and he lacked many. 'You must be graced by the gods, then...'

    'Now, you will have to teach me that' the neomah whispered, meanwhile 'and do that again, too... but now' she almost reluctantly begun to steer the Jadeborn towards the exit, much to the woe of the gathered 'we shall take it to the private, honey.'

    Her voice changed, and now the sensual tone in it sound a bit as if the demon lost control of her own urges.

    Well, Jadeborn touch is said to work magic.

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    The neomah gains an intimacy of lustful fascination with Jania.


    Grimnir


    The god did not even try to conceal the fact of how glad he was that his transparent ruse had not been seen through by Oriasta, smiling widely, pleased with his scheming skills.

    'The Dragon Of Lifegiving Waters demanded to see you after the wedding has ended' he looked at the goddess strangely. 'But you should get some rest... and maybe change into something else, right? No rush, you've been through a lot, right? So refresh yourself and meet that... uh, nevermind. Fare well!'

    He gave a one more bow and disappeared into the lush vegetation of the Island of Our Benefactors.
    Last edited by Gargulec; 2011-11-11 at 05:58 AM.
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  23. - Top - End - #173
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    Things Lost and Broken

    The Artificer of Ten Thousand Blasphemies was not impressed with the drunkard. "Remove your hand from my armour," he rasped curtly. "Before I remove your hand from your body."

    He did not bother to wait for a response as the neomah began to coax the jadeborn towards the exit. He got to his feet sharply, paused just long enough to bring the dragon king's attention to the demon and jadeborn, and stepped towards them. "Hold, demon," he said in a tone that indicated he would brook no refusal. "I would know your intentions towards my travelling companion, before I allow her out of my sight in a place such as this."

  24. - Top - End - #174
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    Things Lost and Broken

    Well, that was... not exactly the reaction she had been going for. Still, that could be dealt with later, and for now the abyssal was going to make this far more suspicious than it already was. Keeping an arm wrapped around the demoness, Jania headed out the door, taking just a quick glance back at Artificer as she and the neomah left. "I can take care of myself just fine, thank you. And her intentions should seem obvious enough..." Which was... hopefully entirely false of course. But better to have everyone believe it either way.

  25. - Top - End - #175
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    Of Kites and Flutes

    Tewi sighs in mingled exasperation and relief as they leave the army behind. Solars... And of course it turned out that one of them could fly, so all of this would have been entirely avoidable if he had only thought to ask. Still, whether the matter with Zsofika would turn out to be a boon or a curse remained to be seen, and she might have found them anyway, given that she had been employing their guide.

    The mad dash through the city takes up most of his attention on its own; he is unaccustomed to running for long distances, although he still manages a quick salute to his patron as they pass over his river-body. Still, the myriad sights of the Demon City are as fascinating as ever, and although he doesn't particularly worry about the others' occasional intervention, it does seem somewhat pointless. What use trying to change this place? Better to learn about it, all he could, and make his own way in it. Perhaps the different viewpoint of the Solars came from their greater power, perhaps it was simply in their nature to seek to remake things in the image of their own virtues. Perhaps he ought to stop thinking about such things, and focus more on the imminent drop ahead.

    Well, Zsofika had led them this far without trouble, they had kept her out of the grasp of Alveua's army (had she known about them beforehand?), and she does not strike him as any more capable of surviving a drop of this height than they are, so he follows the others' lead, carefully aiming his jump to ensure he would not land on one of the others should this strange entrance be simply a shorter drop than it appears. Small courtesies were greatly preferable to large swords.
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  26. - Top - End - #176
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    The next morning starts. Offering a brief prayer of thanks to Sol, Punch draws back the black curtains on his private rooms, letting the brilliant golden light flow through the tinted window and flood the room. Min mumbles something as she buries herself deeper under the blankets as Punch smiles at the sight. Unbolting the locks he exits to the antechamber only to find that some thoughtful assistant had made up some breakfast trays. Giant ribs of some sort of meat, milk, scrambled egg and melon flesh with the latter three clearly being fresh... someone must have braved the forest to make this meal. Making a mental note to thank whoever prepared it, Punch makes up a tray of the food and quietly leaves it next to his new wife, making certain to close the solid door behind him. Taking a quick meal, he dresses and gets ready for the morning exercises... it's time to start this day.

    Walking across the room, he briefly stretches and then draws up a large brass hammer and brings it down on an even larger brass bell. And again. And yet again. On the 10th strike a rumbling is heard in the distance. On the 12th voices can be heard. On the 15th, the doors are flung open as a number of Mortals, Haranhal, Neomah, a few elementals and even a lone blood ape enter, singing and carrying a variety of tools, cages of insects and even bars of metal.

    (Humans) We hear the call, the call to build, to make a new home!
    (Blood Ape) Eh, shut up and work, or I'll gut you all in the 'dome!
    (Neomah) Flesh to craft, life to make and form to shape!
    (Haranhal) Hammers to ring, Flesh to chase, we're more fun than the 'Ape!
    (Neomah)For Profit! (Blood Ape)For Glory! (Humans)For the Future of All!
    (All) Crafting wonders anew, we ring the bell and begin our toil. Crafting: We hear your call!

    Tables and gear are quickly set up, as Punch extends his essence arms drawing forth two rough sets of plans setting them out for inspection of the group. They are crude, clearly in need of refinement but do manage to lay out the groundwork for the projects of the day... A strange burrowing beetle like creature that borrows from the dread Diamond Beetles that chew through the impossibly hard metals of Malfeas, as well as from the Namib beetles that live in the south as well as some behaviors and abilities most common to spiders. The secondary project is far more simple, and more fleshed out in detail, a simple magitech device that is intended to convert and purify dead organic matter into something palatable to humans.

    Taking the beetles and the a hammer so fine it is dwarfed by tweezers, Punch and the assistants start in to work, shaping essence, molding flesh and making new life, even as the second team starts to coordinate with the partial mind in the arms that Punch bears, laying out complex cogs and gear of purified brass and copper.

    At noon the door to the bedroom is briefly opened and then quickly shut as Min is assaulted by the uproarious din of a dozen conversations, songs and projects happening at once. Finally the door opens again and she walks out into the organized chaos that was an almost empty room the night before. Walking out, she takes in the vast effort going on and after a prolonged kiss with her husband (to much hooting from the Haranhal and cheering from the humans) she settles in to help with crafting the food processing engine.

    Spoiler
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    The first project is creating an Artifact 2 lifeform that will be known as a water burrow beetle. It finds water highly uncomfortable, even in small doses. As a result it burrows into the ground/sand and extends a fan of it's wings above ground. It captures and extracts the water that is in the air, condensing it into an underground cylindrical container of tin coated copper roughly 5 inches long and 2.5 inches across. When the container is filled it seals it and attaches it's eggs to the container, separates from it and flies off to form a new nest. The eggs can not hatch while the container has water in it, but will do so within minutes of the water being drained from the container.

    This project is currently at 15/30 successes needed, so the design is finalized and documented but that's about it.

    The second is a variant of the Artifact 1 pill-making machine from Alchemicals. The only difference is that it makes a larger form, akin to an MRE. The food it produces is absolutely tasteless and bland. It is capable of producing 1 MRE per minute, which requires 2 pounds of organic material to be put in. This project is completed.

    It will be set up as a business venture in town, for every 10 pounds of non-edible organic mass brought in (5 MRE) the person bringing it in will get 2 MRE, the person running the crank will get 1 MRE. Of the remaining 2, 1 MRE will go to Punch's household and 1 to general emergency supplies for the town.
    Odd_Canuck is not a topical medication or food product and is not to be taken internally or seriously.

  27. - Top - End - #177
    Bugbear in the Playground
     
    Gargulec's Avatar

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    Default Re: Oasis is Hell - Exalted 2ed - IC

    Things Lost and Broken


    It was bright outside, even if the dramatic of the situation would require it to be dark and gloomy when informer and an information-seeker meet. Then again, it was always bright here - and only thanks to the the azure skies of nearby Cecelyne was the light diminished.

    The demon - clinging to Jania a bit too tightly and murmuring a melody perhaps a bit too sensual - led her to the side of the tent, a small back alley where only a single, aged man slept on the brass, curled tightly with only a shredded robe on his back. He had nothing, and so he had little to fear from the Port Wrath.

    'I need to breath' the neomah muttered, apparently annoyed by her new fascination, glancing at the sleeper, sniffing the air and measuring the winds. She took a deep, long breath, relaxing. 'Now, you don't have a faintest idea what you are sticking your lovely fingers into, do you? Urgh' she shuddered suddenly, frowning 'perish the thought... why had you to?' there was a genuine irritation in her voice, as if she was accusing Jania of something fairly terrible. 'Anyway... I know how to help you find the thing you've lost, but at a price.'

    Meanwhile, at the tavern, a sigh of disappointment echoed under the roof. The patrons, a bit grimmer now, returned to their drinks, while the one who tried to engage in a talk with Artificer returned to wherever he came from - surprisingly fast, given his state.

    'Ha!' the anklok bellowed 'I've expected that essence-human to be chaster! But I believe that your kind lack the strength of spirit to withstand the temptations of the demons that seduce!'

    'You're too harsh, big one' the flame duck responded, laying her head on the Dragon King's lap, the flames of her mane flickering happily. 'You know?'

    With a surprising delicacy, the giant lizard stroked the little elemental's head, instead of throwing even more pompous clarions like the last one.

    Tea at Amalion

    Spoiler
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    Of Kites and Flutes has ended. 10XP to each of the participating


    So you jumped - and started to regret it almost immediately after. The drop was even higher that you would expect, the city beneath so small and delicate, the Green Sun above so close. You had the time to contemplate, even as the acceleration was pushing the breath out of your lungs. The music intensified even further, though no passage seemed to occur: and the ground was closing in fast.

    Within moments, you had a clear view of the plaza you would splatter yourself on, a round disk of basalt that seemed awfully hard.

    Maybe you've even closed your eyes as you were about to hit it. The angylkae in Vana's embrace certainly did, wrapping her long-fingered arms tightly around her Solar saviour.

    And then, the expected happened, and the pavement cracked and shattered, allowing your passage and Ligier flickered above... and with a nasty, crunching sound, you found yourself standing in the middle of an immaculately kept garden.

    It was silent here, in a true meaning of that word: no sound marred the tranquillity, the emerald radiance raining down from the starless sky almost peaceful here. To your sides, an endless bush of bronze roses spread, and you could not tell whether it had an end - it did not seem to. It speckled with colourful flowers - from Creation and beyond, arranged into a pattern you could not discern, yet its purpose was easy to understand.

    Each stone, rose, blade of grass was a proof of geomantic perfection of Amalion's design. The manse around you was designed beyond the limits, was a gem of artifice only Solars could ever hope to match.

    Wide alley, sprinkled with gravel led from where you were standing deeper into the manse, through the alley flanked by trees of brass and emerald towards a great, spiral tower in the distance, gleaming with white marble.

    From that road, two guards were approaching. Armed with spears, clad in a surprisingly ordinary armours, they would appear almost human if not for the fact that their faces were just a painting on iron, nothing more.

    'We have been expecting you, Lords Lawgivers and Bostvade's vassal' they spoke up in unison, saluting you. 'Amalion awaits in the hearthroom.'

    Their painted eyes turned towards Zsofika.

    'Serfs are not allowed into Amalion' they declared, crossing their spears before the demoness. 'That goes for the harpist, too.'
    Last edited by Gargulec; 2011-11-11 at 06:11 PM.
    (02:10:41) Emily Lorn: that's beyond angsty
    (02:10:45) Emily Lorn: that's /depressing/
    (02:10:55) Emily Lorn: you're fired as my angst consultant for being overqualified
    ---
    Pink haired Sister of Battle avatar by Akrim.elf

  28. - Top - End - #178
    Barbarian in the Playground
     
    Dragnar's Avatar

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    Default Re: Oasis is Hell - Exalted 2ed - IC

    Finally, someone willing to explain what was going on here... though she seemed a bit, uh, negatively effected by that message back there. Regardless, any sort of information was welcome, and this demon was offering it.
    "I do not know what I am getting into, no. I was simply asked to help find a Solar. Any sort of explanation of what exactly I agreed to would be nice. So... what's your price?"

  29. - Top - End - #179
    Dwarf in the Playground
     
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    Default Re: Oasis is Hell - Exalted 2ed - IC

    The Visits

    Bartrand signed, and wrapped his arm around Alveua in return, and pulled her slightly closer to his side. He leaned down close, and spoke softly, careful to turn his face away from the fae as he did so. "While I do not disagree with your assessment of the situation, perhaps it would be more useful to share your analysis with me only, rather in front of those it might offend." Bartrand smiled for a moment before he continued, "Though you are right, I do like you."

    Bartrand straightened up, though he didn't remove his arm from around Alveua. "Now that we now all understand each other, and there is no further threat of violence in my lab, lets go back to our previous topic. What plans did you have for this narcotic of yours? I have a few ideas about how to put it to good use, if you do not. Furthermore, where have you been obtaining the gossamer for the experiments?

  30. - Top - End - #180
    Titan in the Playground
     
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    Default Re: Oasis is Hell - Exalted 2ed - IC

    Tea with Amalion

    Vana has no reason to argue against the rule, so she simply nods in acknowledgment, then turns to Zsofika and the harpist with a smile. "Will you wait here for us, please? I don't believe we'll be too long." She then turns her attention back to the guards. "See to it that nothing befalls either of them in my absence. They are under my protection." Her tone brooks no argument- if the guards would enforce the rules that separated them, then they had best take care of the consequences.

    Though she's pretty sure Zsofika can take care of herself from anything short of another army. It's more the harpist she's concerned about.

    Without waiting for any other direction from the guards, she will proceed down the path to the spiral tower.

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