The Rim and the Hammer (Exalted/Warhammer Quest)

Higher and higher rose the damned soul, on wings stolen glory carried aloft by hateful gale . This was no man, not even so far as those who had been consumed by the Wyld, adapted to its fickle currents, no this was a hollow thing, a flesh puppet distorted by the talon-ed hand that bore it aloft and its name was Pride. Having stolen that which was beyond price, on skinless lips laid the blood of the divine what could it most desire if not to consume more and more of the strangers hopes and dreams, minds and souls?

And so he did the calling out mokery and spite against the Chindren of Mela. , in one hand a many headed whip that writhed like serpents and in the other a sword grown from the bone of dragon driven to agony exquisite. Heavy was the scourge and as red ruin the weight of the blade, the youngest and boldest of the Sezekanians falling in the first exchange, lightning guttering in his hands even as he summoned it, the winds scattering tither and yon, yet as he dove to strike the killing blow another of the Wyldguard, grown cunning in his duty and wise from defeat as as much as victory drew from a hidden pouch five knives, one for every finger of her hand, casting them not just with hand, but mind and raging soul. Steel forged long ago by the humblest arts of a Realm most grand bit deep and true into the flesh of the daemon-ridden man's chest above where his heart would have been

A lesser warrior might have been struck dead then and there, yet that was not to be. He laughed, his voice fair as a poisoned dream of poppy:

"Is this your Might Chosen of Absent Gods"

Absent? Hey would have laughed had he the breath for it. In the First of all Wars even the Most High had been absent, bound against himself by oaths to the Primordials who would make cruel sport of all creation. Still the Exalted had won, not in spite of the absence, but because of it. Theirs had been the Creation Ruling Mandate and it was time for this mad dog to understand .

The Azure dragons did not move where the wind blew them, but the wind blew as they commanded, not leaves in the storm but hailstones cast by a vengeful gale, a pattern long practiced, a pattern by each understood. Now above, not below, to his left to his right, never giving him peace, for their wings might not be as swift nor as as the gift of the Tempter, but they were used with skill unmatched

"Stay still that I might caress you!"

Thus he commanded and it seemed to those listening that there was some enchantment to it, some lassitude not of the flesh but the spirit and befuddlement of the senses.

Alas for it that its foes knew well the tricks of the rashka, they knew when to feign weakness and when to strike like thunder from the blue. This time Hey did not invoke the elements, but cleaved instead the Flayed Lord from the top of his head to his groin in one dreadful blow. As he split apart it upon the right side of his face was an expression of vast and uncomprehending surprise and upon the left something that might have been relief.

The battle that followed was no less bloody for the fall of the Champion, his followers all too willing to throw themselves against the hiyrd in the hope of being noticed by their foul master as he had been and as to the trolls, it was anyone's guess if they even had the wit to run. But in the end they died,m one and all, blood and other less readily recognizable fluids staining the earth.

As the last troll collapsed, arrows through its eyes the norscans started to... kneel. Only then did Auspiciously Broken Heywain notice that their chief had fallen in the battle. It seemed them to his eyes that the very substance of the light ha changed, that he could feel their breath from afar and then as he looked into the eyes of mortals not just warriors, but elders children all, he understood. It was worship.

How does the Commander of the Wyldguard react to incipient worship?

[] Accept it, a cult could empower him and these people need guidance

[] Refuse it, it is not the place of the Terrestrial Exalted to hold such sway over the hearts of men

[] Write in

OOC: No rolls in this one because they broke the flow of the narrative something terrible.