A Vision in Bronze; A Sidereal quest

Port City of Bittern,
Voice-of-the-Tides Prefecture,
The Western Blessed Isle

Ascending Air, Realm Year 770

The monk fights for his life against the brawny woman's chokehold. Calmly, as if preparing to stamp out an insect, one of the woman's companions draws his sword. "Hold him still, Rad," he says. There is nothing you can do to stop this.

But, that's untrue. It's a comforting lie you don't afford yourself at the moment. There is nothing you're willing to do to stop this, given the likely consequences. One of the harshest lessons of wielding power is that it is impossible to save everyone or to protect everything. For someone like you, both action and inaction are choices that carry a cost in lives. You understand this better now than you had years ago, when your mentor first told it to you.

Bittern is an old city, and it's seen its fair share of pain and loss. It sprawls grand and ancient along the coast of the Silk-and-Pearl Peninsula, built around a deep natural harbour opening out into the Gulf of Danaa'd. The city is one of the largest in the Realm, the ancestral stronghold of House Peleps, the birthplace of ten thousand ships, and the ravenous maw into which the blood-soaked plunder of the West flows. Hundreds of thousands make their home here, from wealthy Dynasts and patricians to common sailors and shipwrights to slaves and beggars.

There has been a city here since the darkest days of the Realm Before. Bittern has withstood the fall of the Solar Anathema, the endless wars of the Shogunate, the twin horrors of the Contagion and the fair folk, and the chaos of the Scarlet Empress's early conquest of the Blessed Isle. By the grace of your goddess, it will withstand today's trouble as well.

Over the centuries, sinkholes opened up beneath the city proper, causing whole neighbourhoods to fall into the network of sea caves below. The rest of the city was shored up during the Shogunate, with massive pillars raised from the cavern floors to prevent further damage, the holes covered over with new streets and buildings. The pillars hold to this day. Beneath the bustling streets, however, an undercity remains. The long-sunken First Age architecture of the lost neighbourhoods form sad islands amid the dark seawater, bridged by walkways and natural caverns. A refuge for the poor, the desperate, and those who wish to avoid the law.

You and your four companions had been in the process of creeping down into the undercity when the monks found you — two mortals and a Dragon-Blood. The monks had been far more surprised than you all had, presumably heading in the direction of the fire at the docks, still visibly burning through the mouth of the passage behind you. They had not been prepared to face four Solar Anathema. Few ever are.

The mortal monks are strewn on the sloping wooden floor of the walkway. One of them lays face down in a spreading pool of his own blood, and will not get up again. The other, a young monk of the First Coil, may be merely stunned from where she'd been thrown hard against the wooden railing of the walkway you're standing on. The mix of old sea caves and vast sinkholes stretches out beyond it, along with a stomach-lurching drop to the seawater somewhere far below. The distant roar of the waves rushing in and out of the caves is already inescapable, echoing up from the darkness. It fills the air along with the brackish reek of saltwater and decay and hot blood.

The wrestling match between Descending Radiance and the unfortunate Dragon-Blood had been swift and brutal. She'd struck him hard between the eyes before he'd had a chance to more than register their presence, and used his pain and distraction to slip behind him, putting him in a hold that somehow left his limbs useless and one strong arm around his throat. Now the monk struggles as best he can, attempting to use his legs to lever her off of him, but she has at least a head of height on him as well as the might of the Unconquered Sun. The only sign of visible exertion from Radiance is the solid disc of golden light that blazes on her brow, illuminating the passage.

The ragged swordsman who calls himself Flotsam looks at the monk with a pitiless dislike, pulling his sword arm back to stab him neatly through the heart. The monk sees it coming with wide, fiery eyes, but he can do nothing, doesn't even have the air in his lungs to scream.

"No!" The word comes out as a low, desperate shriek. The mortal girl has pushed herself unsteadily back up to her feet, seizing her superior's fallen staff. By all appearances, she is preparing to throw herself at two Solar Anathema in a brave, foolish attempt to protect him. The girl has only taken one step when she's seized roughly by the back of the neck, a giant of a man lifting her bodily up off the floor with the hand not grasping the half of a jadesteel war axe. She flails uselessly in his grip, helpless as a kitten in the jaws of a mastiff.

At this, you do speak. Your tone is soft but subtly arresting, the faintest hint of power behind your words. "Wait, my lord."

Flotsam ignores you just as he'd ignored the girl, putting his sword between the Dragon-Blood's ribs. The monk tenses up a final time, then goes limp. Flotsam hadn't been your target, though.

The giant, Smiling Chalus, does turn around. He frowns at you, the expression crossing his handsome face like a stormcloud on a sunny day. He's nearly seven feet tall, heavyset with solid muscle, purple-black hair falling around his shoulders. Most of the time his kind, guileless eyes make him look deceptively gentle. He's also an Azurite, though, with many of the odious attitudes this implies. He seems to at least exempt his female Circlemates from the unthinking condescension he directs at women in general. You, having taken some pains to be taken for a mortal yourself, have not been so fortunate. He replies as if explaining something simple to a child. "They attacked us, little lady. She was going to attack us again!"

"But, surely, my lord, she doesn't have to die," you say, making your voice as soothing and reasonable as possible. As if nothing in his manner toward you could possibly be objectionable. "She can't be more than nineteen. She's just a girl. She's no match for any of you." Chalus actually falters at this very direct appeal to his worldview. Doubt creeps into his blue eyes.

"Those who have taken vows to spread the lies of the Immaculate Philosophy deserve no quarter," Radiance says, dumping the body of the Dragon-Blood unceremoniously at her feet. "She'd show none to us."

This is all the justification Chalus needs. The world is made simple for him once again, his expression clearing. He nods once. Then he casually tosses the young woman over the side of the railing. She screams briefly before catching her head on a beam. She plummets the rest of the way down into the long dark in silence.

"I understand you have been indoctrinated by the Immaculates, but you must learn better. We will have a long talk about it, once our task is complete," Radiance says. She looks at you, stern and imperious, clad in the sunset-coloured robes of a Vaaisami warrior-priestess. Her attire reveals quite a bit of toned golden-brown skin, and goldshot braids hanging down past her waist. With the Fire Aspect's corpse still at her feet and her Caste Mark still glowing defiantly, she looks every bit the returning god-queen. Once, the sight would have been a horror that would have shaken you to your core — unfortunately, in the eight years you've pursued your calling, you have seen worse.

That monk girl and the look in her terrified eyes, though, you will remember.

Whatever you really feel, it's vital that you continue to play your role. "Apologies, my lady," you say, bowing low. The repentant servant is a part you know very well, and one you barely have to think about. Swallowing your own displeasure and soothing the egos of the powerful is something you learned from a very young age, and the skill has proven transferable to both gods and monsters in your more recent life.

Flotsam snorts derisively, bending down to clean his sword on the Dragon-Blood's simple robes. He has a deep tan expression, a mop of dark, poorly cared for hair, and hard, narrow eyes. He's a Baihu man out of the Southwest with an accent that gives him away as a former noble, however threadbare his clothing have become. Out of all of them, he's the only one who has yet to speak to you directly.

"Don't feel bad," whispers the fourth member of the group. A tiny, olive-skinned Randani woman who has spent the entirety of the brief struggle fussing over something in the heavy satchel she carries in her thin arms. She has a soft, distractible affect, belied by the wickedly sharp spear of solid orichalcum that hangs on her back by a leather strap. "We'll be done here soon, and then you never have to see this city or this horrible island again. I'll make sure Radiance isn't too harsh, she means well."

The sentiment would seem sweet, if you didn't know exactly what she is, and what done here entails. "Thank you, lady Rika," you say, smiling back at her.

As ever when trying to predict the movements of the Exalted, things have not gone perfectly to plan. For one thing, you hadn't expected an unknown fifth ally of the Solars to start that fire. And for another, those monks should not have been here. They shouldn't have had to die. Still, things are not unsalvageable. It is vital that you guide these four to their destination far below — heaven requires it, and you don't lightly accept failure on this scale. Bittern will never know what you do today, but you'll do it for them nonetheless.

"There," Chalus says, having picked up and tossed the two dead monks over the same railing that the living one had gone over. "Mostly cleaned up. We should get going again."

"Of course, my lord," you tell him, and slip past to take the lead. It is going to be a long, nerve-wracking walk down into the very bones of Bittern to reach their destination.

And as always, you must remember who you are today.

Article:

Who have you presented yourself as to your charges? What constellation have you cloaked yourself in? This is a guise you have used before, and will use again in the future.

[ ] The Lovers

A humble slave girl belonging to a naval officer. Your companions struck your chains, leaving you grateful beyond words to your rescuers, and surprisingly knowledgeable about the seedier parts of Bittern from the dismal tasks you were forced to carry out for your master. A firsthand witness to the evils of the Realm, your companions have no difficulty in believing that you see them for the heroes that they are, and will help them in any way you can. They've promised to take you away with them to a better life.

[ ] The Musician

The feckless consort of a wealthy merchant from Bittern, knowing the undercity from your troubled youth. Your companions have seduced you away from your comfortable life and your spouse's blood money, and you have promised to aid them and help them strike a blow for all the free peoples of the world. It's the most they seem to expect from a friendly mortal, and they don't question it as much as they should. They've promised to take you away with them to a better life.

[ ] The Pillar

Formerly a lowly clerk in the Imperial Bureaucracy, what little happiness you once had has been shattered entirely by your corrupt employers, scapegoating you for their own crimes and condemning you to a hardscrabble existence in the undercity. Your companions accept your story easily enough with your power to smooth over the edges, ever willing to believe that the Realm is a place where happiness can only come to the wicked. They've promised to take you away with them to a better life.

Singular Grace, Chosen of Venus

Singular Grace is considered to be a talented young Sidereal, an Exalted agent of Destiny skilled at social intrigue, matchmaking, and martial arts, the latter of which she enjoys for the focus and discipline it requires. She has no love of actual violence any more than she takes any joy in seduction, but a tool is a tool.

Born in ry743. Exalted in ry762. A Sidereal of eight years seniority.

Birth Sign: The Sword
A constellation in the House of Endings that governs the end of hopes and dreams, whether by being fulfilled or dashed, as well as slow and painful deaths. The Expectant Maiden. There is always an ending.

Exaltation Sign: The Lovers
A constellation in the House of Serenity that governs unequal or imbalanced interpersonal relationships, positive, negative, or in between, frequently those where one party holds power or authority the other. The Desperate Maiden. Love is hard.

Skills

A Vision in Bronze is a narrative quest, and does not formally use numbered statistics or abilities. However, the strange and esoteric magic of the Sidereal Exalted are strongly tied in with both their abilities and the constellations associated with them. This section will document Grace's strongest areas of focus. Grace's skills will change and develop over the course of the quest, and she knows techniques found outside of these five places, but this establishes her core competencies.

Constellations of focus:

- The Gull (Thrown)
- The Ewer (Dodge)
- The Lovers (Socialise)
- The Pillar (Linguistics)
- The Mask (Stealth)
- The Rising Smoke (Athletics)

Martial Arts Styles:

Grace knows several martial arts well, and has dabbled in others. These will not be listed in full, and will be voted on and revealed as the quest goes on. She may learn more in the future.


Intimacies

Intimacies represent the values and relationships that are both important to Grace and carry narrative weight and focus. Principles represent abstract beliefs and values, ties represent feelings and emotions for people and organisations. They are ranked either Minor (1), Major (2), or Defining (3), depending on their intensity. This list is nonexhaustive, and more will be discovered or created as the quest proceeds. Others will change, strengthen, or weaken over time. Other characters will also have intimacies for Grace — these will be recorded in a separate post, once we have more of our main cast introduced.

Principles

Defining: I embody my name
Defining: What I do is for the good of Creation

Major: My work is my life
Major: Replacing one flawed system with another is not an improvement
Major: Violence is not a first resort

Minor: The best lies contain no falsehoods

Ties

Defining: Lohna Prince's Scribe (Love)

Major: Anathema (Disgust)
Major: Chejop Kejak (Respect)
Major: The Realm (Bitter homesickness)
Major: V'neef Ambraea (Conflicted sisterly affection and resentment)

Minor: The Bronze Faction (Loyalty)
Minor: The Immaculate Philosophy (Lingering affinity)
Minor: Stinging Nettle (Despairing trust)
Minor: Venus, Maiden of Serenity (Wary ambivalence)
Minor: Yula Cerenye (Friendship)
Minor: ???
Minor: ???
Minor: ???
Minor: ???

The Great Curse

All the Exalted unknowingly suffer from a baleful death curse placed upon the concept of Exaltation itself, its specific form and manifestation differing between the different types of Exalted. Unlike the Dragon-Blooded, whose behaviour is affected in more subtle ways, the Chosen of the Celestial Incarnae, Sidereal Exalted among them, are driven to far more dramatic manifestations.

Sidereal Essence is heavily defined by instruction, orderliness, and manipulation. As such, the Great Curse takes the form of a growing certainty among a Sidereal that they are right in their beliefs in methods, that they alone understand the correct course of action. It fills them with confidence and self assurance.

This is measured for Grace through a resource called Limit. As the quest progresses, certain decisions and events will cause her to gain or to lose Limit. When she reaches Limit 10, she will experience Celestial Hubris. This will cause problems for her.

Grace gains Limit in the following circumstances:

- She denies or goes against one of her major or defining intimacies

- Someone ignores her advice or rejects one of her plans

- She receives evidence reaffirming the necessity of her methods

She may lose Limit in the process of carrying out Destiny's will, and loses all of it after an episode of Celestial Hubris.

Limit: 1/10

Arcane Fate

The Sidereal Exalted in particular carry a second curse, this one far better understood and far more intrusive. Whenever a Sidereal leaves someone's presence, they are forgotten completely, the individual's memories rewriting themself to attribute the Sidereal's actions to other characters or plausible coincidence. If documents or records detailing a Sidereal, or giving detailed information on the Sidereal Exalted in general, are kept in the care of someone who is affected by arcane fate, the information is destroyed or obscured by bizarre coincidence.

This effect can be resisted or overcome with difficulty and luck. It is easier for supernatural beings, like the Exalted or powerful gods, to do so. It also becomes easier the closer a tie the individual holds for the Sidereal in question, and the more they know about Sidereals and arcane fate. Their feelings for a Sidereal do not change even after they have forgotten her, although the context becomes unclear.

Certain beings are immune to arcane fate. These include:

- The Sidereal Exalted

- Spirits, magical constructs, or familiars created or bound into service by the Sidereal Exalted, such as demons and elementals summoned through sorcery, or bound by stranger Sidereal magic

- Gods employed by the Bureau of Destiny, although not gods employed by other bureaus of the Celestial Bureaucracy, or by other spirits or humans employed by the Bureau of Destiny

- Particular "enemies of fate" who are very powerful or Exalted. An enemy of fate is a being such as a ghost, a demon, or a fae, who originate or draw their power from outside the borders of Creation. They are not subject to the normal workings of fate and destiny, including arcane fate. Enemies of fate immune to arcane fate include the Abyssal, Infernal, and Getimian Exalted categorically.

Resplendent Destinies

In order to operate in Creation, Sidereals frequently use specialised magic to create Resplendent Destinies, a magical disguise that draws on one of the Constellations to cloak her in a role or archetype. These are not physical disguises, but people instinctively connect the Sidereal to her role. They can remember the specific resplendent destiny as a distinct person, but their impressions will be broad and lacking in small details, and they will forget small details.

While a Sidereal is wearing a resplendent destiny, she must continue to act out her role even in private, or risk damaging or destroying the destiny. A damaged resplendent destiny still functions, but is much more fragile than it would normally be. If a destiny is destroyed or discarded permanently, memories associated with it are subject to Arcane Fate. Beings who are immune to Arcane Fate are not affected by resplendent destinies, and see the Sidereal as they truly are.

Grace may possess a limited number of resplendent destinies at any given time. Some she already has on hand, otther she will create, lose, or discard over the course of the quest.

Grace's Resplendent Destinies:

1. The Pillar: A junior Bureaucrat (intact)
2. --
3. --
4. --
5. --
6. --