The Convergence of Sky: An Exalted campaign.

[Inspector Valin]

The Outlander blinks. And the thing is gone.

This is something of a first for the strange warrior. Silver-turned armor still gleaming, she glances around the clearing, trying to work out what could've just happened as the others rush up. When Adorei asks his question, the Outlander shakes her head. "It can't be gone. Monsters don't just disappear."

But even she seems somewhat unsure of that at this point.

Spoiler

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(5d10)[8][1][9][6][1](25) I literally can not enhance this roll beyond a stunt. Sorry this took so long.

[Ascension]

Walda shrugs.

"She might have become a tiny biting fly, all but invisible, to buzz after us and bedevil us tonight in our tents."

His mirthless smile is a sliver of sharp teeth and moonlight.

"That's not a joke. It's possible. But!"

His smile turns genuine, warmth and charm suffusing him again.

"We thrashed her convincingly enough. If she is out for revenge, she should know she can't win a straight fight against us all. She'll need to be careful about it. And that buys us time."

He turns his grin on Adorei.

"It might be a new experience for you, but I'd wager the rest of us have all grown used to being on someone or other's hit list, anyway."

[Malozing]

Decks runs a few laps around the clearing before returning to the rest of the Circle. Transforming back into human form, the Lunar plops onto the ground with a grumble. "Couldn't have gone that far. I was just starting to have fun with it."

Hazel eyes land on Adorei while Walda talks about how the giant spider disappeared. "Oh, poor little dragon! Doesn't look like he'll get any beauty rest tonight."

Taking off his woolen cloak, Decks looks around the clearing again, and his tail flicks agitatedly. "I'd say we camp here. It will show that bastard we aren't scared of 'em."

[pfm1995]

Adorei rolls his eyes, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Yes, I, a Blooded member of one of the High Houses, have never been targeted for assassination. Not by anti-Realm partisans, not by Haslanti fanatics, and certainly not by a minor branch of House Sesus after robbing them of some rather lucrative trade contracts." He sighs. "My people have written entire books not on assassination, but on the relative etiquette of different assassination methods. When next we reach civilization I'd be more than happy to loan you a copy, you might learn something."

Ignoring, for the moment, the oh-so-recently catlike lunar and it's crowing about having mildly inconvenienced the monster, Adorei took a moment to look around at the clearing. "Wherever the soapstone was placed is likely the most defensible position, in addition to being small enough that the creature, in its titanic form, won't be able to fit. I suggest making camp there for the night."

[Sticks]

As if in answer to Adorei's suggestion, the hollow beneath the tree is illuminated with a soft green-blue light. A familiar two-toned voice calls out. "Hello? Twice-Chosen? You have restored the link to the Frozen Glade but we cannot perceive you. Be it possible we sent you into unknown peril? Have we lost Nimbus once again? What of the moon-cat, the proud odorous one and the noble-bearing servant? Oh how we miss omniscience."

[Inspector Valin]

"So you're okay with Decks assassinating you... as long as he's polite about it? Haven't you had enough violence for one day, Adorei?"

Outlander half-chuckles, half-sighs at the familiar back and forth, falling in behind the Dragon Blood as he surveys the clearing. The strange Solar brightens immensely at the sound of a familiar voice however. She leans over Adorei's shoulder, calling loudly to the hollow. "Hello Mask! We're all here. There was some peril, but pretty normal for the North really. Nothing we couldn't handle."

Wait. An alternate possible reading of their recent actions suddenly occurs to the Outlander while speaking. The Dawn Caste traveler glances around the clearing, before turning back to the trunk, now looking a little sheepish. "Err, were there supposed to be spider-corpses and a shapeshifter protecting the glade?"

[pfm1995]

"I'm guessing not." Adorei says, starting to walk towards the light in the hopes of getting out of the chill. "What few places there are this far north that are livable will not remain unclaimed for long."

[Sticks]

As the Exalts circle the tree, they see the same waist-high cylidrical pillar of ice first observed by Decks when he was circling the clearing before combat broke out. In the warm, loam-scented hollow beneath the great willow, the ice radiates a cool mist that seeps along the moss-covered ground and condenses on the tiny white hairs of growing roots that poke through the soil. Atop the ice and growing more distinct by the second is the image of a scrimshawed feathered serpent head atop a regal serpentine body in ever-shifting patterns of all colors. The carved ivory or soapstone extends from the creature's head down the body over a third of its visible length, including the pair of huge wings that fold along its side. This is indeed a tiny representation of Mask, the god who sent the four Exalts on their journey only a few days ago.

"Indeed, that is the nature of the north, twice-chosen Dragon. You and your companions will hardly be the last who come to the Frozen Glade, but now we can be certain that its power is being channeled properly. Nimbus, we are sorry we cannot provide elucidation regarding spiders. We have heard of spider-gods, spider-demons, the twisted gossamer webs of the Fey and such, but we know nothing of their ilk residing at the Glade. Did you and your boon-companions encounter resistance from spiders?"

[Ascension]

"I'm the proud odorous one?" Walda echoes to himself, a trifle offended. He takes a few whiffs of his clothing and scowls. It's not his fault that stoats have scent glands.

Well, regardless of the insult, he's still fond of Mask, and the god-thief has given him a chance to boast.

"An attempt at resistance," he clarifies. He sniffs derisively, and digs a crescent of dirt out from beneath one of his fingernails. "We dealt with them easily enough."

Walda's tone and bearing grow more serious as something occurs to him.

"But how do you fare in your prison, Mask?" he asks. "Do you know if my Moonblades have faced foe or gale in their vigil over your resting place?"

[Malozing]

"Noble-bearing servant... pffft. Hehehe." Decks takes an obsene amount of pleasure in Mask's new name for Adorei. "It wasn't anything we couldn't handle, Mask. Though the little dragon is a little spooked."

Decks shoots Adorei a toothy grin.

[Sticks]

"We imagine such temerity will pass with time and experience, both of which are available to the chosen." There's a note of indulgent pride in Mask's voices, but the gestalt spirit quickly gets down to business. "Yes, our new friends, we are well nourished by the verdant essence of the Frozen Glade. Truly it was the boon we missed the most upon our waking, but there is much we still lack. If you would return soon, we will guide you to your next objective. First, however, we make our gratitude felt."

The twisting boreal coils still as the winged serpent figure turns and holds its posture, one carved eye facing Decks. "Feral guardian, terror of all that scurry and restorer of the Glade, ascend the tree that surmounts this pedestal to its highest branches, and hold our talisman aloft to the sky. In this manner, you shall accept our covenant. Nimbus, Moon-Prince and Sky-scale, you three remain below and observe your companion's rise. At the moment he brandishes his talisman, do the same as you look upon him. Do this, and deepen your connection to this land and one-another."

[Malozing]

Decks puffs out his chest when Mask acknowledges his deed, and the Leopard Lunar nods his head once before returning to his totem form. Dashing out from under the tree, the cat digs his claws into the bark and begins to ascend with the soapstone clasped in his jaws. Once his fluffy head breaks through the canopy, Decks shifts once more and holds the white stone aloft in one hand.

[Sticks]

Atop the mighty willow, Decks at last can see the canopy of the Frozen Glade. The forest is set in a shallow valley, perhaps a mile or more across. The trees are tall and healthy, though every leaf and needle is hung with silk. From this vantage, the weak sunlight sets the whole forest ablaze with silver-gold filigree against a backdrop of deep green, with a dusting of snow atop the canopy. As he holds up his stone, it catches the light and grows warm, feeling for all the world like a living thing in his hand. A cold breeze from sets the valley to stir, the trees whispering and murmuring as unquiet air meets ancient wood for the first time in this age. A thin band of aurora lights trickle across the eastern sky, turning and dancing and winding their way towards the Leopard-man. The thin band widens as it grows close, the brightness of the magnetic phenomenon overhead outshining that of the distant sun. A strand of green light snakes down and peirces Decks' crystal, suffusing it with new essence. Immediately, new strands of green essence squirm through the gaps in Decks' fingers and dart away. Three strands shoot downwards, connecting with the soapstones of Adorei, Outlander and Walda, while a fourth rockets off east and south, the end disappearing over the horizon in an instant and leaving behind a thin green trail. After a moment, the strands dissipate and the aurora loses a little of its brilliance, fading to merely become a new celestial feature in the skies above the glade.

Mask's voices ring out from the hollow below the tree. "Now, return to us, for there is much to discuss, and your companions have not been idle."

Spoiler: OOC: New artifacts & XP!

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Everyone gains 5xp and 4 Exalt xp.

Decks: Soapstone of Convergence: ••• Artifact. Attunement: 3m.
Decks Soapstone of Convergence has been touched by the power of a northern wood Demense and has been altered. Decks gains a survival specialty related to northern flora and fauna. In addition, he unlocks the following Evocation:

Mercurial Hunter's Resolution:

Cost: 2+Xm/Soapstone Mins: Essence 1
Type: Supplemental
Keywords: None
Duration: Instant
Prerequisites: None

The lone cat may be a fearsome predator, but the gregarious feline's ferocity is something else, as such a predators know they hunt as a team. The soapstone's owner may add one non-charm dice to any stealth, survival or resistance roll for each allied soapstone owner they can perceive. They may also choose to spend an additional mote per target to grant half as many non-charm dice to their allied soapstone wielders to be used on an ability roll within the same round or scene, if out-of-combat.

Everyone else gains the following:
Soapstone of Convergence: ••• Artifact. Attunement: 3m.
The Soapstone of Convergence grants the owner a survival specialty related to northern flora and fauna.

[pfm1995]

Holding his soapstone out like he's half-afraid it might explode in his hand, Adorei watches with a critical eye as the beams of emerald light dance through the glade. One for each of them and one back to the Mask's manse, hm? Not for the first time on this strange trip did he wish he'd taken his uncle up on the offer of learning sorcery. "Well, then." he said, pocketing the soapstone in one of the many folds of his robes, "Connection deepened. While I understand your haste, Mask, I do still feel that we should camp here for the night. It's sheltered, safe, and relatively protected from the wind. I would not want that monster to find us again on the open tundra, as it has already proven itself able to do. We can set out again at dawn."

[Ascension]

"How have they not been idle?" Walda asks again, trying and failing to conceal the anxiety in his voice. For him, the unanswered question of the Moonblades' fate overshadows the wonder of the soapstones' deepening connection. "You have not answered me, Mask. Are they well?"

[Sticks]

The feathered serpent twists uncomfortably. "We...we are not certain, moon-prince. The mortals who serve you and the dragon-lord are still here, still alive, but...it is difficult to perceive them. They cannot pass beyond the wind-wall and with their essences so limited, we cannot sense them as clearly as we sense you or the fae lord. We...do not believe there have been fatalities, but occasionally we sense...discord, anger, arguments and a loud voice. We apologize we cannot say more, but when more of the old network of dragon-lines is set, we may drop the wind-wall and perceive more."

There's a note of apology in Mask's voices, it's clear they want to help, but are frustrated by their limitations.

[Malozing]

Decks, again in leopard form, climbs down, face first. His ears twitch as he listens to Adorei and Walda's concerns, and before Mask's response, Decks lowers a front paw onto the Dragon's shoulder. Adorei feels a rough tongue run across the top of his head, mussing up his hair before the leopard uses his shoulder as a springboard. Landing in the middle of the group as a human, Decks looks at Walda.

"I mean, you can fly ahead if you want to, but it might cause more trouble. If one of my tribe elders went with a leader of the enemy but didn't come back when the other did, my tribe would retaliate. It's probably arguments between your peoples. When you both return, it'll settle."

The leopard tail sweeps lazily towards the Nellens' legs and gently brushes against them. "Anyway, we should let the one went after the big bug first get some rest. Maybe that's why he's scared to travel at night. Used up all his energy."

[Ascension]

"...fine."

Walda gathers up his bravado like a cloak and settles the grin back on his face.

"If it's my followers against yours, Dragon, I've no need to fear for my own."

He nods decisively.

"We make camp."

[Malozing]

As everyone settles into for the night, Decks climbs into the branches in the tree. He rubs his cheek and drags his claws against the bark before settling in, cradled by the tree's limbs.

[Sticks]

Lying in the tree, Decks's eyes can't help but follow the spider-silk drifting lazily in the breeze. It has brushed up against his fur many a time today, and where it wasn't sticky it was...silky. There's really no other word for it, it was smooth, light and surprisingly durable. The only other things like it Decks has seen are some of Adorei's clothes, the especially shiny ones he found while rooting around in the Dynast's gear the night before. It's an idle thought, but one that niggles at Decks as he drifts off to sleep.

[Inspector Valin]

Outlander is quick to set camp, but volunteers for the first watch of the group. The Solar sits in the midst of the little campsite, strumming her fingers on her staff as Decks scampers upwards into the trees. Life had been so much simpler a couple of days ago. She was just making her way through the world, looking for some sign to guide her home. Now... Wolf, Mammoth and whoever else defend her, she has far too many things to worry about. Peace to keep. Monsters, relics of the past, a distant Realm, a vanishing monster.

But all the same... something more.

She withdraws the ring from her pack, running a finger across it once more, as if to confirm it's real. Bronze. Cheap, humble and simple. But housing a shining, cleanly cut gem. It doesn't look like anything of hers. Had she known a traveler who'd reached this site before them? Had they been close? Or is this just Fate playing some cruel trick on her? If Mask can pass a fragment of an ancient key to her in dreams, perhaps her own distant memories had summoned this little shard from far away.

Or perhaps it just looks like something I'd seen. The Outlander chuckles as she lays back for a second, looking up at the stars. Who knows? With how the mind works, perhaps she'd just been put in mind of some long ago night where she'd sat like this, looking up at the heavens in appreciation. That sounds like her.

[pfm1995]

Adorei scowls, and his hands twitch as he fights the urge to fix his hair. "Imbibing essence into a token, or even into the skin, in order to indicate that someone is under your authority is an extremely basic skill and one that even blooded members of the patrician houses master. It would be simple to do the same to Waldaharaj, and so clear up any confusion. Something to consider in the morning, should he really wish to fly ahead of us." After seeing them in action, it didn't surprise him in the slightest that the animal-Anathema could turn into birds.

Once consensus was reached, Adorei stalked off to gather some firewood - with his jacket a mess, he was not going to spend the night shivering in his tent if he could help it. It took him too long and making the fire took him longer, but as it was the first time he'd done it it didn't go too horribly. Set up in the lee of the great tree, he headed some of his remaining jerky and porridge and dug into a simple, filling, meal before turning in for the night. He didn't dare try talking to his Uncle again with the others so close by, sign-language or no. It would invite awkward questions, and besides he was in no fit shape to entertain company.

[Sticks]

As she lies under the tree, contemplating the oddly familiar gem and the night sky, Outlander hears a murmer from within the tree-hollow. "Nimbus, we are curious. What has transpired to sow mistrust among the twice-chosen? Are you not all marked by great powers and aligned in purpose?"

[Inspector Valin]

"Powers, yes. Purpose?"

Outlander sighs, tired but not angry as she leans down to the tree to address Mask more directly. She speaks quietly - not quite a furtive whisper, but no sense in disturbing her companions through loud ill talk of them. "Walda's forces were out to rob Adorei's when they met. I tried to keep the Islanders safe, but I wasn't enough. He and Decks say that Adorei and his kin want all the rest of us dead, any of the 'Chosen' other than their Realm's people. Adorei... didn't really argue with that."

The Solar glances over her shoulder, looking across the campsite, a hand on her forehead. She still isn't sure what to make of either side of that confrontation. If it'd been Adorei and a gang of toughs harassing Walda's people, she'd have fought beside Fluffy and the bandit of the moon happily. But no: things can't be that easy. With a chuckle, Outlander looks back down at the hole. "If it wasn't for you, Mask, odds are good we'd still be fighting. The one thing binding us together is wanting to help you. That's a start, but..." The Solar turns and exhales, leaning back against the tree as she slowly descends to the ground. "It doesn't solve everything."

[Sticks]

"Indeed. Does this trouble you, Nimbus? We found champions who would be most adept at aiding us, but it seems Fate conspired to bring in those who might wish each other harm."

There is a long silence, then Mask speaks with a curious note of amusement.

"It seems even Fate's well of imagination may run dry at times. It is repeating its old trick, and that bodes well for our mission. Worry not, sweet Nimbus, for in the confluence of enmity, the most inseparable bonds are formed. This we know well."

Spoiler: OOC

Show

If Outlander wishes to reply to Mask, she may. Otherwise we'll transition to the next morning.

[Inspector Valin]

"Thanks, Mask."

Outlander, perhaps Nimbus, places a hand to the hollow of the tree. She does feel a little better for the spirit's words. She looks over the bounds of the campsite. "Maybe I'm worrying over nothing. They haven't killed each other yet." The Solar chuckles. "I just... don't really deal well with people, I guess. I always feel like I'm a step behind. As though something's just about to happen and I don't quite see it. Fighting is easy but talking... talking gets complicated."

[Sticks]

"How right you are Nimbus. Although in our case, it may be because we are so out of practice. Ah, we are also negligent in respecting the needs of mortals! Sleep dear friend, and let us trouble you not. You and your companions have done much for us, but many tasks remain."

With that, Mask's projection falls silent. The glade is warm and sheltered, the wind blowing above the treetops does not penetrate the thick layers of silk, save enough to stir Outlander's hair or Decks' fur high in the willow tree. The exalts can be sure of a peaceful night, as what would possibly trouble the lair of a monster?

[Malozing]

A peaceful night, indeed. However, Decks could not stay asleep in the branches. His mind often drifts to the soft, smooth textures of silk, and in the middle of the night, Decks leaves the branches and joins the rest of the Circle in the hollow—silent paws pad over to Adorei's pack. Unlike last time the cat riffled through it, Decks gently sticks his head in and pulls out a few of the silky garments. With edges of the clothes in his mouth, the leopard circles and creates a little bed with the fabric. Come dawn, the rest of the Circle is awakened by loud, content purring, and Decks tangled in colorful, expensive silk clothes.

[Inspector Valin]

"Mmfft..."

Outlander has to physically resist the urge to laugh upon discovering Decks curled up in this impromptu bed: clamping a hand firmly across her mouth whilst holding her sides as best she can.. The Solar edges closer to Fluffy, glancing towards Adorei's tent and then across the clothes for any sign of blood or damage. Seeing no immediate cause for serious alarm, the Solar quietly withdraws to her tent, sparing the errant Lunar a fond glance before withdrawing inside to start her day. He just looks so... peaceful like that. It's hard not to envy him.

[Ascension]

Waldaharjaz emerges from his own tent with a luxuriant yawn. His sleep, freed from worry, was a far cry from the previous night's nervous vigil. He feels himself again.

He barks a laugh at the sight of Decks curled in Adorei's finery, heedless of whether the noise might rouse the dragon.

"My feline friend, I won't begrudge any tribesman a sense of fashion, but that's not the best way to use a Dynast's silks!"