Finagle007
[Verified Great Old One]
- Pronouns
- He/Him/His
Question: What would Ligier's reaction be if something or someone destroyed the Sword of the Yozi while he was wielding it in battle?
Ebeli Quest: How to Manage your Plot Devices and Save Creation
- Location
- Earth: Universe Meta - 1
[X] Tell him that he's late and we had to do his work for him. Now, will he let us pass so we can cure the Great Maker, or do we have to kick his ass first?
[x] Yog
Vaalintine
Wild Wondorous Wolfalope
[X] "Ah, Oberashti! We met before in the dream with Ku." *as an aside to Quorum* "I'll explain later." *turn back to Oberashti* "We just finished here, actually. Pretty much a curbstomp, I think you may have enjoyed it. Here's an idea: can you be summoned by sorcery? If you aren't busy next time we need an area wiped out, we could call you. Does that sound good?"
GreggHL
Engaging hilarity engine/air intake
- Location
- Daejeon, Republic of Korea
Well, if they deployed it against him and bested him with it, he would be delighted. For how else could the majesty and excellence of the Sword of the Yozi, his finest creation, be proven than by defeating him and the Sword of the Yozi in battle?
If they deployed it and lost, he would be disappointed in the wielder, for while they did wield the Sword of the Yozi, they were not truly worthy of wielding it if they still fell.
Finagle007
[Verified Great Old One]
- Pronouns
- He/Him/His
No, I meant if someone destroyed the Sword while Ligier was wielding it. Would he be pissed or impressed that someone actually managed to destroy his masterpiece, or some other reaction?
GreggHL
Engaging hilarity engine/air intake
- Location
- Daejeon, Republic of Korea
It depends on who and how. If someone destroyed it with a weapon of their own design, he'd be pleased. He would acknowledge their supernal craft and concede defeat to them on the field of workshops and artifice.
If someone destroyed it by, say, headbutting it, he'd be mortified. It's so gauche.
Carrnage
Human
- Location
- New Zealand
Also their head would count as an exotic ingredient for making the successor sword.
PhoenixFTW
Insert Witty One-Liner Here
- Location
- Minnesota
This sounds like something we need to stop before it gets worse. I think we should
[x] Kick his ass!
The Monument Garden
GreggHL
Engaging hilarity engine/air intake
- Location
- Daejeon, Republic of Korea
[X]Make a break for the Monument Garden.
"Neat," Ray says.
Then Sky reflects light off of his sword and Ligier brings up a wall of green fire, blinding the...
(Int+Occult, 12 dice, 6 successes)
Lesser Elemental Dragon of Smoke which is on the cusp of becoming some sort of Death Kukla, but you can examine that later. Instead, Sky grabs your wrist and the lot of you dash into the portal into the Monument Garden.
This is familiar.
"So here we are again," the Clay Man says, "I wonder if Father is watching us. We could always make this nice and awkward."
Ligier gives the mountains surrounding the stone garden an approving nod. "We should find an entrance to the Pole of Crystal. The dragon will pursue."
You hear a soft 'eep' from Quorum. You turn to Shell.
"I've heard rumors," Shell explains, walking alongside you as you pass a moving display of extinct bird people, "Oberashti. Ku's best weapon. The Minister uses it to sterilize cities that threaten the health of the Great Maker."
"So a living Soulbreaker Orb. That's great." You sigh, and then remember something. You got a look. A goooood look. "Say, do all smoke dragons have gremlin syndrome?"
Shell stares at you. She then pinches the bridge of her nose and mutters a swear. "No. No, that's very bad."
You look around, spinning. The Garden is itself much like the dream. Perhaps the same place? Primordial anatomy is weird. Sky nods to Ray, and Ray vanishes from sight, from awareness, almost from memory. So, ambush. It would be a good thing to set up.
"If we need to deal with Oberashti, we will," Shell says, "Our main goal, however, is finding a way to the Pole of Crystal."
There are thirteen mountains. Each of them, Ligier identifies as you walk through the garden, under arches of long-lost giants and in the shadow of trees of light. "Ta'akozoka, the Great Tentacled One," Ligier says, pointing to a mass of tendrils atop one of the mountains, "Not the most dignified of deaths."
"She was killed by a dam, wasn't she?" you ask.
Ligier nods. "I am not sure which enraged Kimbery more. Her death, or the method of death."
You shrug. The air has become heavier- scratchier. You know that the dragon has followed you in, hunting for you. But the Garden is immense, and finding you would take time. Hopefully long enough for you to make it to the exit.
Immense stone spiders on platforms above sing. You pass beneath, and the Clay Man gives them an approving glance.
"So, did the Great Maker create your sword?" Ligier asks, turning to Sky.
"Not sure. I know Debok Moom wanted it, though."
Ligier nods. "He would. He has a fetish for ancient weaponry. Although he never attempted to take my blade, at least not after the first time."
Ligier gives appreciating glances to the statues, the clockwork music filling the air. "The craftsmanship is excellent, and definitely his." You walk underneath clockwork gears with strings marionetting immense tentacles on high. "And respectful. Curious."
"Why?" you ask.
"The Great Maker hated Theion. Hated his kin. It is odd to see a respectful memorial to those who died in the war."
You nod. "Then we should head to the center. You'll like what he has there."
You were certain that the dragon was in the garden. There was heaviness in the air. Not choking- but the air was thicker. Like trace smoke permeating the air. So, you probably had only so much time until the dragon found you.
So you lead Ligier through the garden. It was vast, but the distances were arbitrary. Primordial anatomy, after all, was kind of messed up. But more than a place of sculpture and machine, this was a place of thought. Of art.
These were artifacts. Self repairing. Self maintaining. Moving testaments of things lost in the tides of war.
At the center of the garden, you stand before the sculpture of the woman standing by Ligier's side.
For long moments, the Green Sun looks upon the sculpture of the woman upon the white tree throne.
"It is magnificent," Ligier says, "The mechanisms in it are so fine as to be invisible. Like all of this, it is his craft, but refined enough to look like they were never lost."
Ruvelia walks around the effigy. Her feet float bare inches above the ground, and she smiles. "These aren't monuments to victory. More regret, more grief."
"Justified regret," Ligier answers, turning to his sister, "His actions brought war, brought death."
"Would you judge him for actions he seeks to rectify?" Ruvelia folds her hands at her waist, floating around the sculpture to her brother. "It was Autochthon who asked the Sorcerer to meet your price. Perhaps it was only to see me, but I am here. I see all, for was I not Theion's omniscience? I see that the Maker hated Theion. But he hated himself more, for his weakness, for his loneliness."
She unfurls blue flame between her hands and it spreads out. Lighting the center of the Memorial Garden, and the clockwork music becomes wind born chimes. Not of regret and mourning, but of memory.
"Light brings light. See how the light illuminates this memorial. See how memory brings hope and healing. It is all too easy to give ourselves over to the traumas of the past and allow pain to define us. But there is hope, and that is the medicine that cures such blights."
She floats down, and places her hand on Ligier's shoulder.
"Ask yourself- why is Malfeas brass?"
"I believed it was because of Autochthon, having vengeance upon Theion."
"Maybe in part," Ruvelia says, and smiles, "But you have always worked brass, from the Times of Glory to this day. Perhaps, Malfeas defined himself by what he had left."
She cups his face, meeting his eyes. "For you, and for him. When the burdens of our past bring us low, we must find the strength to release it. If you cannot give yourself permission to start over, then I can. You are forgiven."
There are tears in your eyes. Maybe from this. Maybe from the dust in the air. Oh, shit, not dust. "He's here," you shout.
You look up. Up and up. The immense maw of the black smoke takes on a draconic visage.
"Conservators. You hide in the dreams of a dying god. But all things die, even him."
The smoke swirls about. Choking black fills the world. Erodes the stones around you, and eats away at the monuments.
"You would destroy these works to kill mortals?" Ligier seems unaffected, even as the breath burns in your lungs.
"What worth are works when there is life to end?"
Then there is light. First emerald, blazing upwards as fire. A perfect and precise beam of viridian flame that pierces the smoke dragon, and you see that smoke does indeed burn. Despite which, the flame doesn't burn you. Doesn't burn the garden.
Ligier extends a hand, and Ruvelia rests her hand on his. Sapphire mixes with emerald, and the light flares. First to white, then to colorless. It washes out the world, and the last thing you see is the widening eyes of Oberashti.
And then
Then
There is a voice in the void.
A voice from on high, like thunder from the mountain
And it
Says,
Vision returns, and Oberashti is gone.
Ended, dead. The air is breathable and Gaist is laughing. You turn to the dragon king, who wipes tears from his eyes. "You know, normally I'd be aghast seeing that in action but the dragon was asking for it."
Ruvelia claps her fingers. Sapphire flame extends and the air before the effigy of her folds out, into a doorway. An entrance, into a realm filled with perfect order and crystal clarity.
"The Pole of Crystal," Shell says, soft as a whisper, "The home of the Gods."
The doorway grows. Larger and larger, enveloping you. A sort of in-between, between the Monument Garden and the Pole of Crystal. You stand on the precipice, on the threshold. Before you stands a figure, silhouetted in crystal. Its form a shadow against the axiomatic order of the other side.
"You seek access to the Godhead. This must be earned."
Over twenty feet tall. Immense, bristling with crimson lightning. A single scarlet eye taking up the entirety of its face.
"Encoded Genocide Protocols engaged. I am the final guardian of the Crystal Throne. Convince me by arms or argument to allow you entry."
You shield your eyes from the light. But you know the voice.
"Traveler?"
"Conservator. For this task, I will be known by my other title."
It snaps out its left hand. From its wrist, an obsidian beamklaive ignites.
"Viator."
[ ]Write in.
"Neat," Ray says.
Then Sky reflects light off of his sword and Ligier brings up a wall of green fire, blinding the...
(Int+Occult, 12 dice, 6 successes)
Lesser Elemental Dragon of Smoke which is on the cusp of becoming some sort of Death Kukla, but you can examine that later. Instead, Sky grabs your wrist and the lot of you dash into the portal into the Monument Garden.
This is familiar.
"So here we are again," the Clay Man says, "I wonder if Father is watching us. We could always make this nice and awkward."
Ligier gives the mountains surrounding the stone garden an approving nod. "We should find an entrance to the Pole of Crystal. The dragon will pursue."
You hear a soft 'eep' from Quorum. You turn to Shell.
"I've heard rumors," Shell explains, walking alongside you as you pass a moving display of extinct bird people, "Oberashti. Ku's best weapon. The Minister uses it to sterilize cities that threaten the health of the Great Maker."
"So a living Soulbreaker Orb. That's great." You sigh, and then remember something. You got a look. A goooood look. "Say, do all smoke dragons have gremlin syndrome?"
Shell stares at you. She then pinches the bridge of her nose and mutters a swear. "No. No, that's very bad."
You look around, spinning. The Garden is itself much like the dream. Perhaps the same place? Primordial anatomy is weird. Sky nods to Ray, and Ray vanishes from sight, from awareness, almost from memory. So, ambush. It would be a good thing to set up.
"If we need to deal with Oberashti, we will," Shell says, "Our main goal, however, is finding a way to the Pole of Crystal."
There are thirteen mountains. Each of them, Ligier identifies as you walk through the garden, under arches of long-lost giants and in the shadow of trees of light. "Ta'akozoka, the Great Tentacled One," Ligier says, pointing to a mass of tendrils atop one of the mountains, "Not the most dignified of deaths."
"She was killed by a dam, wasn't she?" you ask.
Ligier nods. "I am not sure which enraged Kimbery more. Her death, or the method of death."
You shrug. The air has become heavier- scratchier. You know that the dragon has followed you in, hunting for you. But the Garden is immense, and finding you would take time. Hopefully long enough for you to make it to the exit.
Immense stone spiders on platforms above sing. You pass beneath, and the Clay Man gives them an approving glance.
"So, did the Great Maker create your sword?" Ligier asks, turning to Sky.
"Not sure. I know Debok Moom wanted it, though."
Ligier nods. "He would. He has a fetish for ancient weaponry. Although he never attempted to take my blade, at least not after the first time."
Ligier gives appreciating glances to the statues, the clockwork music filling the air. "The craftsmanship is excellent, and definitely his." You walk underneath clockwork gears with strings marionetting immense tentacles on high. "And respectful. Curious."
"Why?" you ask.
"The Great Maker hated Theion. Hated his kin. It is odd to see a respectful memorial to those who died in the war."
You nod. "Then we should head to the center. You'll like what he has there."
You were certain that the dragon was in the garden. There was heaviness in the air. Not choking- but the air was thicker. Like trace smoke permeating the air. So, you probably had only so much time until the dragon found you.
So you lead Ligier through the garden. It was vast, but the distances were arbitrary. Primordial anatomy, after all, was kind of messed up. But more than a place of sculpture and machine, this was a place of thought. Of art.
These were artifacts. Self repairing. Self maintaining. Moving testaments of things lost in the tides of war.
At the center of the garden, you stand before the sculpture of the woman standing by Ligier's side.
For long moments, the Green Sun looks upon the sculpture of the woman upon the white tree throne.
"It is magnificent," Ligier says, "The mechanisms in it are so fine as to be invisible. Like all of this, it is his craft, but refined enough to look like they were never lost."
Ruvelia walks around the effigy. Her feet float bare inches above the ground, and she smiles. "These aren't monuments to victory. More regret, more grief."
"Justified regret," Ligier answers, turning to his sister, "His actions brought war, brought death."
"Would you judge him for actions he seeks to rectify?" Ruvelia folds her hands at her waist, floating around the sculpture to her brother. "It was Autochthon who asked the Sorcerer to meet your price. Perhaps it was only to see me, but I am here. I see all, for was I not Theion's omniscience? I see that the Maker hated Theion. But he hated himself more, for his weakness, for his loneliness."
She unfurls blue flame between her hands and it spreads out. Lighting the center of the Memorial Garden, and the clockwork music becomes wind born chimes. Not of regret and mourning, but of memory.
"Light brings light. See how the light illuminates this memorial. See how memory brings hope and healing. It is all too easy to give ourselves over to the traumas of the past and allow pain to define us. But there is hope, and that is the medicine that cures such blights."
She floats down, and places her hand on Ligier's shoulder.
"Ask yourself- why is Malfeas brass?"
"I believed it was because of Autochthon, having vengeance upon Theion."
"Maybe in part," Ruvelia says, and smiles, "But you have always worked brass, from the Times of Glory to this day. Perhaps, Malfeas defined himself by what he had left."
She cups his face, meeting his eyes. "For you, and for him. When the burdens of our past bring us low, we must find the strength to release it. If you cannot give yourself permission to start over, then I can. You are forgiven."
There are tears in your eyes. Maybe from this. Maybe from the dust in the air. Oh, shit, not dust. "He's here," you shout.
You look up. Up and up. The immense maw of the black smoke takes on a draconic visage.
"Conservators. You hide in the dreams of a dying god. But all things die, even him."
The smoke swirls about. Choking black fills the world. Erodes the stones around you, and eats away at the monuments.
"You would destroy these works to kill mortals?" Ligier seems unaffected, even as the breath burns in your lungs.
"What worth are works when there is life to end?"
Then there is light. First emerald, blazing upwards as fire. A perfect and precise beam of viridian flame that pierces the smoke dragon, and you see that smoke does indeed burn. Despite which, the flame doesn't burn you. Doesn't burn the garden.
Ligier extends a hand, and Ruvelia rests her hand on his. Sapphire mixes with emerald, and the light flares. First to white, then to colorless. It washes out the world, and the last thing you see is the widening eyes of Oberashti.
And then
Then
There is a voice in the void.
A voice from on high, like thunder from the mountain
And it
Says,
Be.
Not.
Not.
Vision returns, and Oberashti is gone.
Ended, dead. The air is breathable and Gaist is laughing. You turn to the dragon king, who wipes tears from his eyes. "You know, normally I'd be aghast seeing that in action but the dragon was asking for it."
Ruvelia claps her fingers. Sapphire flame extends and the air before the effigy of her folds out, into a doorway. An entrance, into a realm filled with perfect order and crystal clarity.
"The Pole of Crystal," Shell says, soft as a whisper, "The home of the Gods."
The doorway grows. Larger and larger, enveloping you. A sort of in-between, between the Monument Garden and the Pole of Crystal. You stand on the precipice, on the threshold. Before you stands a figure, silhouetted in crystal. Its form a shadow against the axiomatic order of the other side.
"You seek access to the Godhead. This must be earned."
Over twenty feet tall. Immense, bristling with crimson lightning. A single scarlet eye taking up the entirety of its face.
"Encoded Genocide Protocols engaged. I am the final guardian of the Crystal Throne. Convince me by arms or argument to allow you entry."
You shield your eyes from the light. But you know the voice.
"Traveler?"
"Conservator. For this task, I will be known by my other title."
It snaps out its left hand. From its wrist, an obsidian beamklaive ignites.
"Viator."
[ ]Write in.
... Did they both just channel their Yozi and then Voltron it up to temporarily become Theion again?
Cause it certainly seemed something like that just happened. Which is awesome.
Cause it certainly seemed something like that just happened. Which is awesome.
Finagle007
[Verified Great Old One]
- Pronouns
- He/Him/His
Here's the Viator's stats, for reference.
Article: THE VIATOR OF NULLSPACE
Across the Eight Nations, laborers huddled around their workstations still whisper of the devastating god-machine they call the Bringer of Death, the Dread Gear, or the Minister of Wrath. Only in the archives of the Tripartite is the truth laid bare. 999 years ago, the Viator of Nullspace laid genocidal siege to Autochthonia, massacring its peoples. The massive engine of war stood twelve feet tall, armored in a spiked carapace of soulsteel, starmetal, and black jade, and the obsidian beamklave that extruded from its left hand cut down Alchemical Exalted and subgods alike. Cracked soulgems embedded in its torso glisten menacingly, ripped from the heads of slaughtered Champions.
But Exalted power and heroic self-sacrifice proved enough to defeat the Viator, sealing it back in the nullspace, a conceptual realm that exists only where Autochthon's dreams and nightmares spill out into the inchoate void of Elsewhere. But the ur-destroyer cannot be contained by its void-cage forever. The last time it emerged into the Realm of Brass and Shadows, its ambitions were nothing less than titanomachy—once all within Autochthonia were dead, the Viator planned to forge them into a great soulsteel wedge with which to tear loose the Core, harvesting the mind of the Maker and casting the rest of Autochthon's diseased being into oblivion.
Long exile has driven it to a new purpose. After centuries of exile, the Viator encountered another being exploring the conceptual edge of the nullspace—a vast serpent of emptiness and shadows. The Viator struggled with the exploring titan, in the end perfectly sealing the nullspace in an attempt to trap it—but the serpent's mastery of the art of escape proved peerless, and it fled. In its inadvertent defense of Autochthonia, the Viator learned of the Yozis. It felt Autochthon's suffering at their hands, saw their cosmic power.
Now, the Dread Gear ceaselessly turns its power against its prison, seeking once more to open a rift into the Realm of Brass and Shadows. When it erupts forth in triumph, the world will once again suffer its wrath—but this time, the Viator has a new plan to save Autochthon. It will descend upon the Divine Ministers and remake them through gruesome surgeries, fashioning them into demonic engines like itself. The blood of slaughtered Autochthonians will grease the spiked gears of churning prayer wheels, and their dying voices will sing prayers to their new god. The cities will be rebuilt into a mandala of war. Through the mutilation of his soul hierarchy and the sacrifice of his populace, the Viator of Nullspace will transform Autochthon, fashioning him into a vampiric god-monster of consumption and cannibalistic predation.
On the day when the Great Maker rises again, the skies of Malfeas will burn with new fire, as the massive Uran-drills of the Bleeding Engine's tendrils come down from the sky and burrow deep into the crust of the Demon City.
Motivation: Scourge away the civilization of the Eight Nations, and remake Autochthon as a monstrous Primordial predator.
Attributes: Strength 16, Dexterity 10, Stamina 16, Charisma 8, Manipulation 8, Appearance 0, Perception 10, Intelligence 8, Wits 10
Virtues: Compassion 1, Conviction 5, Temperance 3, Valor 5
Abilities: Archery 10 (Chakra Points +3), Athletics 10, Awareness 6, Dodge 6, Integrity 10, Lore 6 (Stolen Memories +3), Martial Arts 10 (Crippling Attacks +3), Melee 10 (Dismemberment +3), Occult 6 (Primordial Metaphysics +3), Performance 8, Presence 8 (Intimidation +3), Resistance 10, War 6
Charms: The Viator of Nullspace is capable of using a wide array of Spirit Charms, almost all of which are All-Encompassing. It lacks any Charms for possessing other characters or objects, shapechanging, predicting the future, or blessing others. The Viator has a Second Excellency for all Abilities, and a full nine purchases of Essence Plethora, Ox-Body Technique, and Reserve of Will. Materializing costs it 95 motes. It also possesses a number of unique panoply Charms, some of which are listed below. Other panoply Charms are capable of disrupting the Essence flows that power Municipal Charms, mentally controlling destroyers and weaker exmachina, and other blasphemous feats.
Consumptive Divinity Void—As a creature of death, the Viator is incapable of respiring motes normally within Autochthonia. However, it gains a single mote each time it kills a living being. Against Primordials, their demons and devas, and the Alchemical Exalted, each successful attack also drains a single mote for each level of lethal or aggravated damage inflicted, which is restored to the Viator's mote pool. Within Blight Zones, the Viator respires ten motes each hour, siphoning Essence from nullspace where the conceptual boundaries of Autochthonia are at their weakest.
Dread Gear Fortification—Should a single attack or environmental hazard deal enough damage to the Viator to fill all its health levels of a certain type (-1, -2, and so on), any damage beyond that amount is prevented. Poison and Sickness effects cannot damage it beyond its -1 health levels. All Shaping effects the Viator suffers are terminated at the end of each scene; Shaping that would instantly destroy it is negated, instead causing the Dread Gear to suffer only a single level of aggravated damage.
Encoded Genocide Patterns— The Viator cannot be argued with, treating all natural mental influence as unacceptable orders. Unnatural influence never costs it more than three Willpower to resist. Influence that aligns with its Motivation bypasses this defense.
Panopticon Lens—The blood-red sphere of the Viator's eye replicates all the benefits of the following Optical Enhancement submodules: Cross-Phase Scanners, Essence Sight Oculars, Flash Shutters, Light-Intensification Filters, Mass-Penetrating Scan, Telescopic Lens, and Thermal Vision (see The Manual of Exalted Power—The Alchemicals, page 158). The lens can also fire pulses of disintegrating essence, detailed in the Viator's attacks.
Reality-Shredding Cascade—Reality seems to ripple and waver around the Viator of Nullspace, maimed by its very presence. This aura of spatial distortion is a Shaping environmental hazard that extends up to five hundred yards from the Viator, with Damage 5L/action, Trauma 4. The Viator can suppress or resume this aura as a miscellaneous action.
Unfolding Nullspace Portal—The Viator can warp space around itself in a blinding display of impossible geometry and rippling white tesseracts. It may pay five motes to teleport to any point it can see within five hundred yards as a miscellaneous action (only one such action can be included in a flurry). It can also pay nine motes in Step 2 of an attack to reflexively teleport in this way, perfectly dodging even if the attack is undodgeable. A surcharge of one Willpower extends this defense to one tick, letting the Viator teleport after each new attack. As an action taking one long tick, the Viator may attempt to teleport to any point in the Pole of Metal that it is familiar with for a cost of 75 motes, 3 Willpower, vanishing at the end of the tick. If it takes any damage before the long tick ends, this long-range teleportation fails; the Viator may use no other Charms while teleporting in this fashion.
Unholy Eidolon—Alchemical Exalted who die at the Viator's hands suffer ultimate desecration, their soulgems and memories absorbed by the destroyer. Whenever the Viator invokes this stolen knowledge as part of a stunt—for instance, navigating a metropolis by calling up memories of its design, or intimidating an Alchemical by recounting the dying thoughts of a fellow Champion—it converts all stunt dice to successes. Stunted social attacks are considered unnatural mental influence and cost three Willpower to resist.
Join Battle: 16
Attacks:
Obsidian Beamklave Armature*: Speed 5, Accuracy 23, Damage 28L, Parry DV 12, Rate 3
Ocular Essence Cannon: Speed 6, Accuracy -2, Damage 30L, Rate 1, Range 125, Rate 1
Clinch: Speed 6, Accuracy 26, Damage 16L, Parry DV —, Rate 1
*See The Manual of Exalted Power—The Alchemicals, page 210 for beam weapon traits. The Viator need not pay to attune to or deploy the beamklave armature; it is a natural extension of itself.
Soak: 32L/40B (Five-Metal Bulwark 24L/24B)
Hardness: 15L/15B
Health Levels: -0/-1x16/-2x15/-4/Incap
Dodge DV: 13
Willpower: 10 (19 points)
Essence: 9
Essence Pool: 230
GilliamYaeger
M'crazy.
"What worth are works when there is life to end?"
Number one thing not to say in the presence of Malfeas and/or his Fetich souls. It pissed the three of them off so much that Malfeas briefly became Theion again.
That was amazing.
And I suspect that Autocthon didn't hate his siblings, but he hated what they did to him and his creations.
Number one thing not to say in the presence of Malfeas and/or his Fetich souls. It pissed the three of them off so much that Malfeas briefly became Theion again.
That was amazing.
And I suspect that Autocthon didn't hate his siblings, but he hated what they did to him and his creations.
frozenchicken
Does not have a custom title.
Okay, so talking is preferable, but we really need to keep in mind:
Suggested talking points:
-This may very well be the Viator's only opportunity to have the aid of the only crafter in Creation to rival the Great Maker. If there is a problem with Autocthon that is beyond the ability of the Viator or other Autocthonian peoples to fix, then missing this opportunity will render that problem forever beyond reach.
For reference:
So yeah, we need to use UMI or somehow tie in having Ligier fix Autochthon as being beneficial for the purposes of Genocide and/or remaking Autochthon. The latter is at least theoretically possible, though I kind of like burning through UMI for this. We'd just need to come up with a bunch of different things to try and convince him of to tap him for Willpower.
Suggested talking points:
-This may very well be the Viator's only opportunity to have the aid of the only crafter in Creation to rival the Great Maker. If there is a problem with Autocthon that is beyond the ability of the Viator or other Autocthonian peoples to fix, then missing this opportunity will render that problem forever beyond reach.
That's his canon motivation. Not necessarily his current one. Still, we could probably sell it some stuff via the following:
1) If Autochton is awakened and healed, Eight Nations would probably have to move out
2) Repairing Autochton is needed in order for him to grow stronger.
Spear
Sun-In-Rags
- Location
- North Macedonia
Puny Dragon, even the Shadow of a Fraction of Malfeas is something that would Hate you for your your Words. Let us not even speak of the Malfeas That Was, which would Unmake you for Daring to Denigrate His Works, which he did.
I wonder what effect this had on the Demon City, did the Wounds Heal however slightly? Did those within Hear His Words? Did all the Broken and Maimed Yozi feel The Empyrial Chaos for just a brief instant and feel Despair?
Because Theion would Not Approve of what the Yozi have Become...
I wonder what effect this had on the Demon City, did the Wounds Heal however slightly? Did those within Hear His Words? Did all the Broken and Maimed Yozi feel The Empyrial Chaos for just a brief instant and feel Despair?
Because Theion would Not Approve of what the Yozi have Become...
Finagle007
[Verified Great Old One]
- Pronouns
- He/Him/His
Step One: Have Ligier request possession by Malfeas.
Step Two: Have Ruvelia request possession by Tiferet.
Step Three: Cast Unity of the Closed Fist on the two possessed Fetiches.
Step Four: ???
Step Five: Profit!
EDIT: The Viator is canonically stated to be able to draw with the Unconquered Sun. Be VERY careful.
Step Two: Have Ruvelia request possession by Tiferet.
Step Three: Cast Unity of the Closed Fist on the two possessed Fetiches.
Step Four: ???
Step Five: Profit!
EDIT: The Viator is canonically stated to be able to draw with the Unconquered Sun. Be VERY careful.
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GreggHL
Engaging hilarity engine/air intake
- Location
- Daejeon, Republic of Korea
So, IC, we know that the Viator is devoted to saving Autochthon, so it's motivation is probably different than canon. The trick is coaching arguments in line with this. As said, having one of Autochthon's few peers with us is a good start.
Essentially, it's a choice- do we fight it or convince it?
Essentially, it's a choice- do we fight it or convince it?
- Location
- National Capital Region, USA
I'd say we try to convince it first. We can shift to Fight if that fails, but we are here to repair Autocthon, with his explicit permission and directive. We have the Green Sun with us, the only craftsman in Creation who has even a chance of standing as a peer to the Great Maker in that area, as well as his sister and our circle. We are not at the Pole of Crystal for person gain or intent of theft. We are here with and by permission of the 'owner' and to complete work he has ordered of us. The Viator himself spoke to us and knows of our quest from the time in the Great Forge.
GreggHL
Engaging hilarity engine/air intake
- Location
- Daejeon, Republic of Korea
Correction: An Unconquered Sun who never throws down his Virtues, and is hence Invulnerable.
EDIT: Although we must remember that this is Exalted, where "I am invincible!" is a testable hypothesis.
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Finagle007
[Verified Great Old One]
- Pronouns
- He/Him/His
Not only that, but said Unconquered Sun ALSO has access to ALL Theion Charms except Theion Cosmic Principle and those which require it. Though he can't use Magnanimous Unbound Sun, so that's something...