Chosen of Necessity, Chosen of Dust [Exalted]

It is dark and damp in the holds of the Ysyri vessel, but to all appearances Peerless Pearl finds this comforting, just as much as he finds apparent comfort in the ceaseless pounding of the drums. All of that is just evidence that the Impossible Perfection is operating exactly as he desires.

He remains fixated on what is before him, his arm reaching through a heavily armored shutter on a reinforced box, unmoving. Little can be seen of the interior, save only a warm yellow glow that leaks from within.

This glow is the only thing illuminating the other two beings in this hold. One of them is chained to the sailing craft's keel with heavy irons, her chakras pierced in meaningful places by impossibly black needles of soulsteel. Watching the prisoner with the fixed stare of a patient hunter is a giant spider armored in wood instead of chitin: an elemental, called into existence by Pearl. It is not alone. Elementals make up much of the ship's crew, crafted and bound by Peerless Pearl.

Even over the rhythm of the drums, other noises manage to reach this place. The sound of human misery, from the other main hold: Impossible Perfection carries both treasures and hostages from Ysyr's current conquests. The sounds of the ship and the sea, too: The Dreaming Sea is a capricious place, even at the best of times.

Finally, though, something changes. Pearl's head snaps up the instant that the drums miss a single beat... and they don't resume. With an air of methodical focus, he removes his arm from the armored box, closes the shutter, and listens for the locking mechanisms to kick in. The lock clunks into place at the same time a voice on deck—human, not one of the varied voices of elementals—calls "Corsairs!" in a panicked tone. With one last look at the armored box, Pearl heads for the deck.

In the darkness, the wooden spider continues to watch the prisoner, unmoved by the sound of chaos beginning to spread on deck. Three breaths after Pearl moves out of sight, the prisoner's head lifts, just enough to survey the scene. It is time to act.

---

Tide swims up under the Ysyri vessel's keel. He is a tuna, at the moment, which means that, acting in concert with its wake, it isn't too hard to keep up.

He keeps his fishy eyes open, however. Not just above, but all around... and below. This is the best chance he'll likely get to loot the treasure aboard, but that doesn't mean that it's safe. He's no friend to either the Ysyri crew or the corsairs, and neither one is the greatest threat in these waters. The King of the Dark Fathoms slumbers far more often than it is awake, and its hunting range is vast, but Tide will still abandon the area before risking tangling with the ancient beast.

A few moments more, and with no sign of the gargantuan undersea creature to be seen or heard, Tide commits. The attack will only give him a few moments of cover, after all. The tuna brushes up against the hull, and then in a flash of silver it is gone. In its place, a small snake clings to the vessel, and it begins slithering its way up the hull, looking for an entrance as near the waterline as possible.

---

You are not aware of any of this, not at first, merely of loud noises and commotion on deck. You and the others are all chained to the walls of the hold. It's as much to make a point as to keep you secured. Elementals scuttle through three times a day, the strange spirits checking on your status, giving food and water, cleaning up, and otherwise seeing to your basic needs.

When you were taken, the Ys sorcerer-captain had barely put up a pretense to the Spear-Queen of your homeland of Johhadim that this was anything beyond a taking of hostages. Johhadim had been laid low years previously by Ysyr's sorcerers, though they had promised that they merely were interested in flows of tribute and the purchase of children with sorcerous potential. It was indeed a coincidence, then, that of the Spear-Queen's seven children, the oldest three and now youngest three were all deemed to be nascent sorcerers—a fact with no corroboration.

The Spear-Queen sitting quietly on her throne, unspeaking, radiating her anger, her helpless frustration, is an image seared into your mind, and one that you doubt you will ever forget. She sat there, frozen, even as the ethereally beautiful Peerless Pearl offered mixed apologies and blandishments, along with a pile of silver, to be allowed to take you away. Refusal was, of course, not an option. You would have been taken by force if she had tried.

You are nebulously aware that Johhadim is only one among many stops that the Impossible Perfection has made. The other people in the hold you don't know, and no one seems ready to try conversation.

You are equally unaware of the fact that, today, you will Exalt.

Because you lack that knowledge, you have only one tiny shred of consolation to cling to: the Spear-Queen was no fool. She knew what Pearl was there for. You are not the true Prince Jinaya. Now that Prince Jinaya is of age, she has been secreted away, where she will train in certain secret arts. You are, instead, a young companion of the Prince, a companion who happened to be similar enough in age and appearance to fool even the sorcerer, offered up with deep regret, as if the Queen truly was giving up her youngest child.

Who, exactly, are you, really?

[] The Prince's bodyguard
A prodigy with a javelin, you had gotten your start in the family fishing business, spearing targets to be hauled into the boats. When your hurled javelin even slew a hob-shark, a creature of the Wyld, stories of your prowess reached the Spear-Queen and you were given a royal task and training by the best warriors Johhadim has.

[] The Prince's tutor
Growing up, your near-perfect recall and advanced understanding of everything from medicine to the meaning of classic texts had been a source of pride, and so you had been hired as an intermediary, absorbing all that the Prince should learn, to teach her as a peer. She was a willful child, but your lessons proved a fruitful way to convince her to learn.

[] The Prince's handmaiden
Johhadim was never a powerful queendom, but it was a proud one, before Ysyr broke it. The prince was expected to be a master of manners great and small, to speak a variety of languages, to always look the part. You were her shadow, the one who always stood ready to prompt her or see to her appearance. No surprise, then, that you can act the part directly.

Chosen of Necessity, Chosen of Dust is run using the Exalted Essence system as well as my own homebrew (except the alternate rules).

No familiarity with the system is expected or required. While I will be playing out the mechanics, the story should still be a story, something that I hope you can enjoy. There will be spoilered sections with rolls and mechanical explanations; you are free to skip them if desired, but I will also try to ensure that they can be used to help readers get a grasp of the system. This is one of the role-playing systems I've had the most fun with, and I want to share that.

This quest is centered around a type of Exalt known as an Exigent, the strange, usually-unique Chosen of the small gods of Creation. Specifically, our protagonist will be inheriting the Exigency of the Tomebinder, an Exigent first created by @HamSandLich, with the original document available here, with the Essence conversion and a few changes specific for this quest made by me.


This post will be updated with changes to our protagonist's sheet, a section on the cast of the story, and any other informational elements I decide to put here. The first few threadmarks will pick a few of the key elements for our protagonist, and I will extrapolate the rest of the details to avoid bogging down too much in character creation.

This is the only reserved post.