I badly wrote myself into a corner with the previous one, and have done a bit more background planning to hopefully avoid the previous pitfalls while still retaining the same idea: Sometimes, the best Exalted quest protagonists are people who shouldn't be trusted with power.
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Welcome to Ebeli Quest (SFW edition)- Where you play an experienced, Solar Circle Sorcerer who solves every problems with Demons until demons stop solving her problems. Let's give some backstory:
You are Ebeli, formerly of House V'Neef. Unlike every other one of your siblings, you exalted as a Solar Exalted of the Twilight Caste, rather than a proper Dragon Blooded. That was twenty years ago and it's been a ride since. Currently, you are V'Neef's second-least favorite daughter, with that honor going to your twin sister, Bylar.
You are, without a doubt, one of the two greatest demonologists in all of Creation, with the other being Mother's eldest sister. While you exalted in the satrapies of the East, you currently live in the South, near the Lap. Your Circle travels much, but you don't always travel with them- your main constant companion in regards to the circle is Sky, the circle's Dawn Caste. In addition to his more subdued ambitions and willingness to work towards the goals of others, he rather likes being there by your side because of the prospect of you needing to be saved.
You like the eye candy and wait that came out wrong. You like having someone you can rely on, and you certainly aren't a couple but you do have the weighted end of your staff ready for any Realm temptress that tries to get their claws in him like, say, Mother. Or all of your sisters.
Speaking of which, you have managed to mostly repair your relationship with your former House. In that, you can walk into one of their estates without having to fight your way out, and have a working relationship! Which is a lot healthier than when you were part of that family, and all it took was a civil war breaking out on the Blessed Isle.
But enough about that- Demons!
You solve problems with demons and will stop solving problems with demons when demons stop solving your problems. You are one of a handful of Solar Circle Sorcerers, and that's amazing. Not only that, you have an extremely rare and powerful artifact- the Staff of Authority Over the Binding Of Those Who Shall Be Bound, or the Staff of Binding for short- which makes this even easier.
And you have resolved, on this last night of Calibration, to summon up a Third Circle Demon, to bind into your substantial entourage (lots and lots of first circles and a handful of second circles) and serve you for a year and a day. You've done this twice before- first, you summoned up the Manse Eternal, Amalion (who built you this very nice Manse), and later on summoned up Orabillis (who now doesn't like you).
Currently, your circle is planning to destroy the forces of the Walker in Darkness, and as such you have been working for the past year to prepare to summon the Seventh Soul of the Ebon Dragon- That Which Calls to the Shadows, Erembour.
It is not that you don't appreciate the effort put into it, goodness knows. It's just that the amount of effort, and the sheer scale of it, makes you wonder at times whether or not there are diminishing returns.
The circle, made out of Malfean Brass, was easy enough to get. Summon up a few First Circles and if you know what you're doing- like you do- you have enough for your basic summoning circle.
Your staff, which you found in your tomb- or really the tomb of your past incarnation- makes things easier but it was still a hassle to get. Not nearly the hassle that the Manse is, though. That was a lot of work, a lot of geomancy, and a lot of money. Lots of it.
But! But!
But you have done this before! And besides which even if you hadn't done this song and dance and chant and ridiculous amount of Essence before, you weren't doing it alone. Your best friend, currently nodding off in a supremely comfortable chair just outside of the blast radius, has his sword by his side just in case things go bad.
And besides which- this will help. There's the City of Dead Flowers to deal with, and the raw power of any of the Yozi's lieutenants will be a great asset against them. You've reassured your circle of this, and they agree. This should be done. This must be done. The power of the Solar Exalted leads to consequences such as this.
You have prepared- your friendship with Mara may pay off tonight if you go with Plan A. Plan B is more dangerous but the lack of preparing would pay off if you are correct, and Plan C- well, Plan C is exciting.
There is a part of you that wonders how time works in the demon realm of Malfeas. While standing here, wondering which demon to summon, waiting to make a decision, you realize that the one you choose will have left Malfeas five days ago. No matter which one, that one would have left five days ago. With a nod, you resolve to understand how that works, but that is filed with the other future plans.
Right now, you have made a decision, and you have to break it gently. Turning from the summoning circle, you walk over to Sky and the large, study chair he is napping in. You pat him on the cheek to wake him, and blue eyes flutter open before you drape your arms around his shoulders and drop yourself onto his lap.
To his credit he keeps his eyes on your face, and you smile. Let the buttering begin.
"So, question. Your sword is supposed to be the greatest sword in all Creation, right?"
A questioning grunt. Followed by, "I think we figured it's the first sword, which might be why someone keeps trying to steal it?"
"How do you think it'd measure up against the greatest sword of all?"
You could never accuse Sky of being dim, and he does put the pieces together rather fast.
"You're summoning Ligier."
"I'm summoning Ligier," you say with a nod. His mouth opens and closes like a fish stranded on land, and he closes his eyes and pinches his nose.
"Ebeli...didn't we spend the entire year preparing to summon Erembour?"
You nod, sucking teeth.
"Didn't we go to Great Forks and rescue Mara's daughter so we could summon Erembour?"
"Let's be fair, it was less saving her and more surviving her attempts to kill us before we found the god controlling her and feeding him to Mara."
You look him in the eye, shifting slightly on his lap and leaning in. Wood aspected siblings and parentage lead to techniques handed down through generations, and his face goes bright red. You didn't exactly dress in layers, and it is the South, after all.
"So, we were going to summon Erembour because of her Revelry, because she can basically control the armies of the Dead, but how about just burning them all?"
He blinks, ponders. Furrows his brow and you see the faint flicker of Essence. "That'd work. But we haven't done any preparation."
You shrug, reach up, and adjust your spectacles. "Ligier appreciates audacity, and it doesn't get any more audacious than 'Get over here because I'm a Solar Circle Sorcerer.'"
"Point." He sighs, faint rattle in his throat. "Path's going to have a fit."
With that, you turn, sitting fully on his lap and pushing yourself off. "Then Path ought to learn some sorcery himself and not give me badly worded requests." You turn, hands on your hips. Buttering has been accomplished, in theory. "Can I count on you?"
He nods with a grin. "Always. Just, one thing?"
You nod, and motion him to continue. "Me getting into a sword fight with Ligier wielding the Sword of the Yozi is a terrible idea."
You shrug. "Technically he wouldn't fight you unless it was the entire Circle." Which is true, but the sour look on his face tells you that isn't what he wanted to hear. So instead, you grab his wrist and pull him up.
"Anyway, time to start!"
Brass and orichalcum torches light. From the staff in her hand, her golden hearthstone gripped within the thin fingers at its top, a light pours forth and into the summoning circle, empowering it and the litany of wards surrounding the manse. It flows outwards and inwards- web lattice of preparations writing their names across the dome that expands and rises above them, and inwards-
Into the Demon City, where the Staff lets its magic be known upon its target five days ago. Still, now is not the time to think of odd time shennanigans or impossibilities, but to wrench miracles from the universe's grasp.
Your coat flutters in the chill wind, and the silver sand already pours forth. To lesser sorcerers, this would be intimidating- calling forth a being venerated, worshipped by trillions of beings in the immense Demon City. But you have done this before.
Well, not with him. But you know what you're doing.
"I make the Sign of Separation-" The staff floats before you and you twist your hands, forming the symbol with glowing golden Essence. "And open the gates of the Demon City. Demon Emperor, King of Kings, know me and be made to know me."
You feel it. Pulling back, resisting.
"I make the Mudra of Victory, and remind you of the oaths and pacts to which you have sworn!"
Practiced motion. Hands sliding against each other, twisting the light into the Old Realm symbols of the Oaths of Surrender and Victory over the Primordials.
"I call upon you, King of Kings, Malfeas," you continue, "And I call upon your Burning Heart. I summon forth-"
And when the words leave your lips, so do you. You open your eyes and the manse is gone, the chamber gone, Sky gone. You stand between tick and tock, here and there. In a desert of silver sands and law, before the brass and vitriol.
A sphere larger than Creation will ever be, and with words and spell and sorcery you stand before it. Not as equal.
Never as equal.
As greater. You use their words and their commands and make them your own. In soft voice, with sanity and humanity and empathy they do not possess. Before you, the great sphere rings with intonation, its identity in Old Realm, in First Language.
MALFEAS.
King of Kings.
Demon Emperor.
Bowed and Broken but Authority Without Equal. Brass and Lordship ripples with emerald light.
And before you, the layers of the Demon Emperor Align. With the eyes of Sorcery, of Adamant Circle, of Primordial Workings Handed to Mortals, you understand, and call him forth, through metaphor and action and the green fire issuing forth.
"I summon you, Ligier Shin Giri Malfeas."
And once more in the manse, once more with your friend by your side, you do not blink when the pillar of emerald fire erupts. The spilled silver sand becomes cecylean glass, the brass heated to burning blue, and the wards of the manse catch the emerald fire in beautiful lattice light.
"For an entire age, I have waited. Unbound, unsummoned, for none stood who could call me forth."
You feel it. You can taste it. The raw power you struggle against, eroding will and power with the last reserves of your own.
"And in this brass age, one has come to summon me forth? I, First Amongst Equals!"
You can see him. Two hands resting on the pommel of the weapon without equal. Two arms folded across the bare, ho wow chest.
"The Fixed Point of Malfeas!"
A cloak of finest emerald silk hangs over his bare shoulders, and the emerald fire makes the amber hair flow around him, barely hiding pointed ears- blinding fire but itself dim compared to his own brilliance.
"The Lord of Hell! Green Sun of-"
And then you get a good long look and-
"Good gods you could grind meat on those abs."
The green fire extinguishes. Eyes the color of finely crafted emeralds narrow. Then you realize that yes, you did say that out loud, and grip the staff to lean on it.
"I-" You clear your throat. "I'm sorry, I interrupted. Do you want to start over?"
"No," Ligier says, "No, it's done."
With a deft, still sexy motion, he hefts up the brass daiklave and sheathes it by his side, folding his hands behind him. "So, I win the bet."
You blink. Sky tilts his head with a questioning grunt.
"The bet?" you ask.
"With Amalion. She wagered you were going to summon Erembour. I wagered you would summon me." His form shrinks- two of his arms disappear and he appears almost human, save that your sorcerer's sight, your essence sight, still tells you this is The Green Sun. "So! How may I be of service, O Sorcerer?"
Oh! Right.
"Ligier Shin Giri Malfeas, I bind you to my entourage for a year and a day."
"Excellent. I believe we will negotiate further services, then?"
[ ]'Kay [continues to stare at his abs]
[ ]Negotiate? What do you mean negotiate?
[ ]Wait until the rest of the Circle gets back because you suck at bureaucracy.
[ ]Write in