The Voice in the High Hall
Date Unknown, Elsewhere
Perhaps alone of all the cities of Creation Sezakan amid its lonely peaks was ruled in a line unbroken since the days of the High First Age. Though its memory was tattered by the slow decay of ages as the Essence Lights failed and scribes were forced once more to work by lantern light and fire's glow they never did forget that they were the heirs of those who had kept the faith in the Deliberative even as traitors raged across the face of Creation. Upon the walls of the Council Chamber etched in finely painted marble, as vivid now as it had been millennia ago the noble countenance of the first Solar Council look upon their decedents, with cold demanding gaze.
Will you live up to our legacy? They seem to say.
Will you fly the storm winds or instead crash and break upon the mountains of adversity?
Thirteen you are as thirteen there were of old and though the city beyond the windows of the Council Chamber is still and dark, lonely in its vastness with only seven thousand souls within halls that once held a quarter of a million you all still rule by virtue of the the Trials of Dawn which had been instituted when the last Solar Prince of the city was lost. Swiftest fliers are you and most skilled and puissant in the wielding of your own Essence, strong runs the blood of the High Airs in Sezakan as it has not in many a long years. Eleven hands in all of Exalted does the city count among its people, from silver-haired elder to fledgling new come to their power and twenty eight more bear the sign of divine favor upon their blood and their kin.
Gain 55 Azure Dragonbloods and 28 God-Blooded
Thus the priests of the The First Shrine of Sunset claimed it to be a sign, a portent from the Most High, some whispered even of the return of the Lawgivers who will reward you for keeping the faith. But when the world changed it was not in a corona of golden radiance but in a whirling kaleidoscope of color and sound, nameless passions and madness undreamt. The mountains heaved and for one dreadful moment you felt the Essence of the world
break, like a calving piece of a glacier falling down in avalanche. And then like ice upon the mountain's slopes it settled elsewhere. The mountains around you were different and the veil of stars strange. Even the face of Luna is not the same, but smaller and more distant and when the sun rose its light seemed fainter and many despaired at the sign. Already some whisper in the market places that you are cursed, that the Council is curse for the choice it took in turnings of the Wheel past. You think back to that day... but you cannot bring yourself to reject the wing raised in approval of mercy.
Strangest of all portents and most divisive of Elder Blackfeather's decisions as Voice of the Council a pair of the Wyld Kissed now count Sezakan as their home, begotten when their mother, a skilled and savvy Relic Finder had delved too deep in the caves under the Mountains of Frost and come upon the Freehold of the Rashka who claimed those lands. Unlike most who happened upon such dwellings Cunning Sage of Serendipity was not drained of her life, nor was she even enslaved for she entranced the Prince with tales of what she had seen in her journeys and she defeated him often in games of whit and chance. In time she claims those contests lead her to his bed. Two children did she bear him as alike and as different from each other as two snowflakes and in one final trick of which she will not speak she won herself and her children free of her faerie lover returning to Sezakan on the night of the New Moon past when the Wyld is weakest.
A few called to expose the children, to leave them upon the mountain to perish or else be found by their accursed sire, but they were for all their strangeness as your people are of face and form and wing and so they were allowed to remain in the city in the care of their mother, though as all who are touched by the Wyld they are commanded by ancient law to bear and sire no children. The alternative would have been the loss of Cunning Sage of Serendipity not only a skilled Relic Finder but one of the Azure Dragons besides.
Gifts of the Wyld -> Gain 2 Fae-Blooded
"Were this 'prince' of Cunning Sage's able to move mountains she would not have escaped him!" you shout over the din of the council chambers. "Some greater power has moved us across Creation and now it is the place of the Council to lead, not cast blame one upon the other like children pointing fingers at each other over a broken Essence Light."
And so they are still, for now at least. Among those Thirteen you are the Voice of the City, first among equals and in this hour of tumult it falls to you as it did to Righteous Raging Storm to lead Sezakan... for now at least. How long you can keep your seat depends on your decisions in the days ahead.
You look into the darkened glass of the windows and see...
[] A man: Write in name
[] A woman : Write in name
As Sezakan has been inhabited continuously since the days of the Old Realm Sezakanian names are descriptors as was the custom in those days. Long descriptors are often shortened in casual conversation.
Whence springs the Essence that flows through you?
You have Five (5) Bonus points
[] Through long trials and thaumaturgic skill, you are a an Enlightened Mortal (Gain 2 Bonus points; Roll 3d6 for stats; Essence capped at 3)
[] From the gifts and the trysts of the small gods, you are God-Blooded (Roll 3d6 for stats re-roll lowest)
[] From the blood of the dragons who kept their vows, you are one of the Azure Dragons (Costs 2 Bonus points Roll 4d6 for stats)
What face looks back at you from the glass?
[] Write in character appearance (Optional; if none is chosen l I'll look for one)
OOC: Next update we will vote for traits, and the good ones will cost bonus points.