[Exalted, ?] Most High
- Thread starter Rihaku
- Start date
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- Tags
- exalted (white wolf)
Usernames
Merc gonna merc ya
Exalted.
Litterally Exalted. By playing the games of divinity, the highest gods seen the truth form of reality, behind everything. The attributes, the abilities, essense, everything.
Rihaku
The Internet
It's never made explicit, they're just a thing to prevent the Incarnae from taking over the plot.
Ridiculously Average Guy
I'm you, but stronger
- Location
-
Dark Souls for gods.
The Cosmic X-Box that the Primordials were busy playing before the Exalted were made and killed/imprisoned them.
Then the Incarnae, Luna, the Unconquered Sun, and others started playing and got addicted.
As for what it really is, in detail? No official canon I can find, besides 'It's not playing with mortals for the lulz'.
meianmaru
The Devourer of Fiction
Fanwork## with 615 words
***
The Return of the War-Saint
As Nilul left to attend the feast, Ulyssian let his mind wind back to the time he was Odyssial. His blade hold many potent techniques to be awakened, but they worked better with a foundation to build upon. Instead, a particular memory about Lea stuck, her reminding him to sharpen his observational skills, auditionary in particular. The results had been useful, if something that took getting used to even though it didn't disorient him at all. Still, maybe he should reserve it to the later part of his training.
He desperately needed to re-sharpen his combat abilities before credible threats started appearing. And besides, the words he would hear with his sharpened hearing might take a miniscule amount of focus from his meditation, with increasing amount of chance if his friends started talking about him. With that last decision, his observation shifted inwards to his memories, his movements starting to change alongside with the flow of his Essence.
The Second Circle Daeva was turning towards him, having noticed Odyssial even when that should have been extremely unlikely based on what he knew about it, and was already opening its mouths to alert its allies. Faster than a ray of light, he crossed the distance between them and sunk his dagger three times, deep to each of its hearts...
In the present, Ulyssian was dashing swifter and swifter after each of his rushing strikes. Now, what else he could summon up from his memories? Maybe if he used his own experiences as triggers-
Ulyssian was facing the former monk of the Immaculate Order, and somehow managing to sustain his continuos assault after the first strike, his spirit uplifting after realising that even foes such these could be overcome with an existence bound to mortal limits-
Odyssial was facing a Solar who had listened too closely to the whispers of a Primordial, his free will robbed of him through her insidious arguements against it. With unbound fury, he directed his wrath he usually reserved for the makers of the world to his brainwashed ally, his strikes draining and refilling his Essence at the same time, hopefully buying enough time for the others to follow his plan to subdue their fellow Chosen...
Yes, he could see now how to enhance the effectiviness of his strikes further, even if those were only hollow echoes while training, when compared to what they should have been against a real foe. But it wasn't enough. His adversaries had their own methods, with most of them currently leagues above him. He needed something that would let him even the odds in a fight tilted against his favor. Luckily, he had a faced overwhelming foes during boths of his lifetimes, so finding a recollection about something useful should be quite easy-
The situation was getting perilious, his first fight against a Third Circle Daeva proving to be more than merely challenging. The fight had been dragging on, the spear of his hound-like foe threatening his life with every thrust it made, nicking his flesh with its cursed blade even when he dodged or parried it, following him by twisting in impossible angles. He refused to let those near-deaths push him back, but instead used them to invigorate himself towards even greater heights to overcome this impossible adversary...
And so, Ulyssian danced the night away, as did his fellow students at the feast alongside with their other ways of celebrating and enjoying a tradition whose true origin had been lost to the millenias of lies. And after three days, when his Essence started at last settling in, and the last festivities of the Calibration were dying down, Moon woke up.
***
The Return of the War-Saint
As Nilul left to attend the feast, Ulyssian let his mind wind back to the time he was Odyssial. His blade hold many potent techniques to be awakened, but they worked better with a foundation to build upon. Instead, a particular memory about Lea stuck, her reminding him to sharpen his observational skills, auditionary in particular. The results had been useful, if something that took getting used to even though it didn't disorient him at all. Still, maybe he should reserve it to the later part of his training.
He desperately needed to re-sharpen his combat abilities before credible threats started appearing. And besides, the words he would hear with his sharpened hearing might take a miniscule amount of focus from his meditation, with increasing amount of chance if his friends started talking about him. With that last decision, his observation shifted inwards to his memories, his movements starting to change alongside with the flow of his Essence.
The Second Circle Daeva was turning towards him, having noticed Odyssial even when that should have been extremely unlikely based on what he knew about it, and was already opening its mouths to alert its allies. Faster than a ray of light, he crossed the distance between them and sunk his dagger three times, deep to each of its hearts...
In the present, Ulyssian was dashing swifter and swifter after each of his rushing strikes. Now, what else he could summon up from his memories? Maybe if he used his own experiences as triggers-
Ulyssian was facing the former monk of the Immaculate Order, and somehow managing to sustain his continuos assault after the first strike, his spirit uplifting after realising that even foes such these could be overcome with an existence bound to mortal limits-
Odyssial was facing a Solar who had listened too closely to the whispers of a Primordial, his free will robbed of him through her insidious arguements against it. With unbound fury, he directed his wrath he usually reserved for the makers of the world to his brainwashed ally, his strikes draining and refilling his Essence at the same time, hopefully buying enough time for the others to follow his plan to subdue their fellow Chosen...
Yes, he could see now how to enhance the effectiviness of his strikes further, even if those were only hollow echoes while training, when compared to what they should have been against a real foe. But it wasn't enough. His adversaries had their own methods, with most of them currently leagues above him. He needed something that would let him even the odds in a fight tilted against his favor. Luckily, he had a faced overwhelming foes during boths of his lifetimes, so finding a recollection about something useful should be quite easy-
The situation was getting perilious, his first fight against a Third Circle Daeva proving to be more than merely challenging. The fight had been dragging on, the spear of his hound-like foe threatening his life with every thrust it made, nicking his flesh with its cursed blade even when he dodged or parried it, following him by twisting in impossible angles. He refused to let those near-deaths push him back, but instead used them to invigorate himself towards even greater heights to overcome this impossible adversary...
And so, Ulyssian danced the night away, as did his fellow students at the feast alongside with their other ways of celebrating and enjoying a tradition whose true origin had been lost to the millenias of lies. And after three days, when his Essence started at last settling in, and the last festivities of the Calibration were dying down, Moon woke up.
Last edited:
Fanwork ##
674 words.
Science ?
Standing vigil atop the tallest of the Fingers, Odyssial waited.
Below, his troops were engaged with the enemy. The distance made it seem like two colony of ants had stumbled upon each other, and as were the habit of these creatures, simply refused to acknowledge that there was any other way forward than through. Thus they scurried about in the cradle of the rock formation he had come to call the Hand. The last waves of their titanic crash had finished to roll on its palm, leaving them lost
in a confusing press of bodies, pushing against one another in complete chaos. The carefully choreographed war he often waged, the ballet of formations stretching upon the ground, deploying according to ordained patterns, was nowhere to be found on this day. Gone, the steady advance of ranked spears and tight squares. Gone the inexorable push of spearheaded formations, the quicksilver sweeps of light cavalry, or the crash of its heavier cousin. Even the bow song had faded, leaving behind isolated twangs of cord smacking on flesh and against wood.
Far beyond the mortal components of his army, having plowed their way through the middle of the enemy force, his Host struggled under a nimbus of phantasmagorical images, the kaleidoscopic cloud conjured up by their clash with the better elements of the Fae-Folks dissimulating them to his view. But only his view.
The scenes playing under this veil painted themselves behind the closed skin of his eyelids, as his mind automatically conjured up images fitting to the sounds his trained ears isolated from the roar of sounds echoing bellow. As the sounds of churning earth reached him, the sight of melting stone turning to magma under feets came to him, trailed by those of scalding metal deforming under heat, putting a frown on his face. This Fae Lord troops did not wear metallic armors and the gemstones they were encased in, whatever sorcery infused it, was quite resistant to fire.
The sound of boiling and sizzling flesh did not move him. Only an unfamiliar noise, and the almost complete halt of the characteristic beat of his soldiers feets in this area, set him in movements. He disappeared from his perch in a flash of lightning, the ear-splitting sound of thunder exploding in its trail. The bolt that fell from the sky to depose him in a crack upon the ground, had little impact, lost as it was in the burning sludge in which he immediately found himself plunging. The lava-like substance lapped against his armored calves, a mild hindrance for him but something that had left some of his troops as calcined corpses in the ground.
Most of them had been as unscathed as him fortunately. The majority of the survivors were peppering the enemy with essences fueled lances of light, away from the burning ground. Some hovered in midair, carried in gall of winds, other stood atop pillars of rocks strangely resistant to the bite of the fire. From there they had managed to halt the advance of the enemy, the burning field meant to pave their way to victory having turned for many into an early grave. Still, they came, and many among their numbers had took to the air.
Still, that wasn't what had brought him here. The Host hardly needed him to held its hand. But he made a point to always react immediately to changing circumstances in the course of a battle, to detect, apprise and counter any new factors. Such as the shields some of those Fae-Folks bore, their milky-mirror like surface flinging back any coming blast they caught.
Hm.
This time lightning coursed upon the ground itself, and not content to break the law of its usual traveling path, Odyssial broke the saying according to which it never struck twice in the same place. Fading away in repeated flash and coming back only to flicker out of sight again, he left limbless body in his wake, as a steadily growing pile of shields rose where he had stood.
674 words.
Science ?
Standing vigil atop the tallest of the Fingers, Odyssial waited.
Below, his troops were engaged with the enemy. The distance made it seem like two colony of ants had stumbled upon each other, and as were the habit of these creatures, simply refused to acknowledge that there was any other way forward than through. Thus they scurried about in the cradle of the rock formation he had come to call the Hand. The last waves of their titanic crash had finished to roll on its palm, leaving them lost
in a confusing press of bodies, pushing against one another in complete chaos. The carefully choreographed war he often waged, the ballet of formations stretching upon the ground, deploying according to ordained patterns, was nowhere to be found on this day. Gone, the steady advance of ranked spears and tight squares. Gone the inexorable push of spearheaded formations, the quicksilver sweeps of light cavalry, or the crash of its heavier cousin. Even the bow song had faded, leaving behind isolated twangs of cord smacking on flesh and against wood.
Far beyond the mortal components of his army, having plowed their way through the middle of the enemy force, his Host struggled under a nimbus of phantasmagorical images, the kaleidoscopic cloud conjured up by their clash with the better elements of the Fae-Folks dissimulating them to his view. But only his view.
The scenes playing under this veil painted themselves behind the closed skin of his eyelids, as his mind automatically conjured up images fitting to the sounds his trained ears isolated from the roar of sounds echoing bellow. As the sounds of churning earth reached him, the sight of melting stone turning to magma under feets came to him, trailed by those of scalding metal deforming under heat, putting a frown on his face. This Fae Lord troops did not wear metallic armors and the gemstones they were encased in, whatever sorcery infused it, was quite resistant to fire.
The sound of boiling and sizzling flesh did not move him. Only an unfamiliar noise, and the almost complete halt of the characteristic beat of his soldiers feets in this area, set him in movements. He disappeared from his perch in a flash of lightning, the ear-splitting sound of thunder exploding in its trail. The bolt that fell from the sky to depose him in a crack upon the ground, had little impact, lost as it was in the burning sludge in which he immediately found himself plunging. The lava-like substance lapped against his armored calves, a mild hindrance for him but something that had left some of his troops as calcined corpses in the ground.
Most of them had been as unscathed as him fortunately. The majority of the survivors were peppering the enemy with essences fueled lances of light, away from the burning ground. Some hovered in midair, carried in gall of winds, other stood atop pillars of rocks strangely resistant to the bite of the fire. From there they had managed to halt the advance of the enemy, the burning field meant to pave their way to victory having turned for many into an early grave. Still, they came, and many among their numbers had took to the air.
Still, that wasn't what had brought him here. The Host hardly needed him to held its hand. But he made a point to always react immediately to changing circumstances in the course of a battle, to detect, apprise and counter any new factors. Such as the shields some of those Fae-Folks bore, their milky-mirror like surface flinging back any coming blast they caught.
Hm.
This time lightning coursed upon the ground itself, and not content to break the law of its usual traveling path, Odyssial broke the saying according to which it never struck twice in the same place. Fading away in repeated flash and coming back only to flicker out of sight again, he left limbless body in his wake, as a steadily growing pile of shields rose where he had stood.
Fanwork##
1186 words.
New version of Ody in the Grail War.
Fuyuki City.
While base awareness grew to full consciousness and his mind stretched, as if barely awoken from slumber, those words rose at its fore. They unfurled, metaphorical flowers blooming in the sunrise rising on his thoughts. With them came many others.
A whole world reduced to its essential concepts was flung into his mind, a millions of scenes flashing past too fast for a normal mind to grasp, intended to settle in its depths and fade in the background till need recalled them. Not so with him.
He had learned to listen in a such a way that of the sea, he knew how to ear both the rush of its waves and each of its salted drops. Now, as then, his mind and spanned the flow and sifted through it. Each of the glimpses he received of this world branding themselves in him to form a picture of the whole.
Everything had changed and yet, everything was the same.
He had died, this he knew and near the end, expected. Indeed he though to be prepared for it. Manifestly things had not gone according to plan. They tended to do that, even for him. Being brought back to life as a soldier in a war he had no stakes in was far from what he had planned. Being bound to the wretched figure he saw before him certainly hadn't been part of it. The elusive prospect dangled before him, that of any wish of his being realized, of its own had little allure for him. It was by his hands than his will took shape, indeed, he expected nothing from the world but that which he was able to make for himself. The fact the words leaving the lips of his summoner-that rankled in some way, to be called like a common demon -had not only demanded allegiance from him but cast a veil of madness upon his mind, backed by the power of the artifact which had led him there, had achieved to empty the idea of any enticing aspects.
Whatever strength they had thoughts sufficient to compel him, proved inadequate to the task. Incomparably more powerful beings had attempted to dominate his mind or influence it in some ways. Beside, rage was but a tool to be used when necessary, never something to be ruled by.
As he looked around him, his gaze passing upon the emaciated form of his would be Master, it came to rest on a ghoulish sight. A husk of a man, reclined upon gnarled wood, his lidded eyes weighting on him. Hm. While dozens of worm-like creatures, pulsing with energy crawled through the younger man, this one was literally made of the things, there was no heartbeat to hear, no crack of bones, no quiet churning of viscera and only the whisper of those living tendrils of flesh and power brushing against each others.
Interesting.
Annihilating them immediately was maybe too hasty on his part. Considering his present state, keeping the younger alive till he discovered more about his particular state would had least be necessary. Already a cursory look had given him some information to ponder, the energy maintaining his form, while coming from him, was abundant in some areas of this very city. He felt them, vibrating lines of power similar to the dragons veins he had known and exploited in his time.
There would be something to be done about that but first...
The worm-like creature had only the time to widen its eyes before Odyssial sword traced an incandescent in the air, the trailing wave of fire engulfing it whole.
_ _ _ _ _ _
Something had gone horribly wrong. He knew it, from the moment the man had come into focus, his armored form detaching itself from the glow of the summoning circle, he knew something was catastrophically askew. The simple fact that he grandfather was worried-what terrifying discovery to make, that he could even feel something like that- was telling. The old ruin was impassible as always, but the quality of the silence he always trailed behind him had changed, turning from threatening to threatened in the span of an exchanged gaze. The moment these eyes had nailed them where they stood by the piercing intent they conveyed, he felt everything come undone.
Then his grandfather was set on fire. Any happiness he could have extracted from this was immediately extinguished when the Servant, blurred away, a thunderous boom and the falling stones of the roof he had just plowed through left of him.
A strangled cry escaped him:
" Sakura ! "
He lost precious seconds in the middle of his panic till he remembered his commands seals.
_ _ _ _ _
He had sought a way out. Something prepared in case of emergency. Commendable effort. Grossly insufficient unfortunately, that the creature had not been united in one body had been evident to his senses. Reaching the greatest of his remaining living part before the flash of energy connecting his dying body, to the living one-probably a sign of reintegrating process-had been easy enough. Sparing the host he found had required a split second adaptation. Rather than his blade, it's the palm of his hand that struck the girl, a targeted spike of essence leaving him to vaporize the parasite.
He had the time to see her crumble on the ground, still alive, from what her raising chest indicated, before a command surged through his mind " Stop ! ".
How quaint.
_ _ _ _ _ _
Maiya Hisau, knew fear. She had tasted its many flavors and grown drunk on it. Some would say that she had overcome it, grown accustomed to it to the point to lose all sensitivity. She knew that to be false. Fear never left, one only learned to beat it while it was there, keeping in mind that it too shall pass, as everything else. Kiristugu taught her that, to ignore the mind-killer, to be able to function even when it submerged you.
This is why, her feeling expressed themselves only in the form of a slight frisson crawling along her spine, when the Matou estate imploded.
Still, as she saw emerge from the burning wreck an armored being carrying a man upon its shoulder-Matou, Kariya, returned heir, low threat assessment. To reevaluate- and a little girl under his arm-Matou Saku-
The train of her thought broke in pieces she saw the head of the armored thing turn right toward her familiar. Less than a second later, she was seeing the angular face of a man from centimeters of distance, the body of the crow she was seeing through now cradled in his hand.
She cut the connection immediately, the pounding in her ears and increased beat of her heart leaving no traces on her impassive face.
A hand fetched the radio at her waist, and she opened the line as she rose from her reclined position on the bed of her room, long strides carrying her outside.
"Something's come up, Kiritsugu"
1186 words.
New version of Ody in the Grail War.
Fuyuki City.
While base awareness grew to full consciousness and his mind stretched, as if barely awoken from slumber, those words rose at its fore. They unfurled, metaphorical flowers blooming in the sunrise rising on his thoughts. With them came many others.
A whole world reduced to its essential concepts was flung into his mind, a millions of scenes flashing past too fast for a normal mind to grasp, intended to settle in its depths and fade in the background till need recalled them. Not so with him.
He had learned to listen in a such a way that of the sea, he knew how to ear both the rush of its waves and each of its salted drops. Now, as then, his mind and spanned the flow and sifted through it. Each of the glimpses he received of this world branding themselves in him to form a picture of the whole.
Everything had changed and yet, everything was the same.
He had died, this he knew and near the end, expected. Indeed he though to be prepared for it. Manifestly things had not gone according to plan. They tended to do that, even for him. Being brought back to life as a soldier in a war he had no stakes in was far from what he had planned. Being bound to the wretched figure he saw before him certainly hadn't been part of it. The elusive prospect dangled before him, that of any wish of his being realized, of its own had little allure for him. It was by his hands than his will took shape, indeed, he expected nothing from the world but that which he was able to make for himself. The fact the words leaving the lips of his summoner-that rankled in some way, to be called like a common demon -had not only demanded allegiance from him but cast a veil of madness upon his mind, backed by the power of the artifact which had led him there, had achieved to empty the idea of any enticing aspects.
Whatever strength they had thoughts sufficient to compel him, proved inadequate to the task. Incomparably more powerful beings had attempted to dominate his mind or influence it in some ways. Beside, rage was but a tool to be used when necessary, never something to be ruled by.
As he looked around him, his gaze passing upon the emaciated form of his would be Master, it came to rest on a ghoulish sight. A husk of a man, reclined upon gnarled wood, his lidded eyes weighting on him. Hm. While dozens of worm-like creatures, pulsing with energy crawled through the younger man, this one was literally made of the things, there was no heartbeat to hear, no crack of bones, no quiet churning of viscera and only the whisper of those living tendrils of flesh and power brushing against each others.
Interesting.
Annihilating them immediately was maybe too hasty on his part. Considering his present state, keeping the younger alive till he discovered more about his particular state would had least be necessary. Already a cursory look had given him some information to ponder, the energy maintaining his form, while coming from him, was abundant in some areas of this very city. He felt them, vibrating lines of power similar to the dragons veins he had known and exploited in his time.
There would be something to be done about that but first...
The worm-like creature had only the time to widen its eyes before Odyssial sword traced an incandescent in the air, the trailing wave of fire engulfing it whole.
_ _ _ _ _ _
Something had gone horribly wrong. He knew it, from the moment the man had come into focus, his armored form detaching itself from the glow of the summoning circle, he knew something was catastrophically askew. The simple fact that he grandfather was worried-what terrifying discovery to make, that he could even feel something like that- was telling. The old ruin was impassible as always, but the quality of the silence he always trailed behind him had changed, turning from threatening to threatened in the span of an exchanged gaze. The moment these eyes had nailed them where they stood by the piercing intent they conveyed, he felt everything come undone.
Then his grandfather was set on fire. Any happiness he could have extracted from this was immediately extinguished when the Servant, blurred away, a thunderous boom and the falling stones of the roof he had just plowed through left of him.
A strangled cry escaped him:
" Sakura ! "
He lost precious seconds in the middle of his panic till he remembered his commands seals.
_ _ _ _ _
He had sought a way out. Something prepared in case of emergency. Commendable effort. Grossly insufficient unfortunately, that the creature had not been united in one body had been evident to his senses. Reaching the greatest of his remaining living part before the flash of energy connecting his dying body, to the living one-probably a sign of reintegrating process-had been easy enough. Sparing the host he found had required a split second adaptation. Rather than his blade, it's the palm of his hand that struck the girl, a targeted spike of essence leaving him to vaporize the parasite.
He had the time to see her crumble on the ground, still alive, from what her raising chest indicated, before a command surged through his mind " Stop ! ".
How quaint.
_ _ _ _ _ _
Maiya Hisau, knew fear. She had tasted its many flavors and grown drunk on it. Some would say that she had overcome it, grown accustomed to it to the point to lose all sensitivity. She knew that to be false. Fear never left, one only learned to beat it while it was there, keeping in mind that it too shall pass, as everything else. Kiristugu taught her that, to ignore the mind-killer, to be able to function even when it submerged you.
This is why, her feeling expressed themselves only in the form of a slight frisson crawling along her spine, when the Matou estate imploded.
Still, as she saw emerge from the burning wreck an armored being carrying a man upon its shoulder-Matou, Kariya, returned heir, low threat assessment. To reevaluate- and a little girl under his arm-Matou Saku-
The train of her thought broke in pieces she saw the head of the armored thing turn right toward her familiar. Less than a second later, she was seeing the angular face of a man from centimeters of distance, the body of the crow she was seeing through now cradled in his hand.
She cut the connection immediately, the pounding in her ears and increased beat of her heart leaving no traces on her impassive face.
A hand fetched the radio at her waist, and she opened the line as she rose from her reclined position on the bed of her room, long strides carrying her outside.
"Something's come up, Kiritsugu"
Emerald Oracle
Chaos, yet harmony. Death, yet the Force
- Location
- The Else
What IS the normal ratio for words to xp for fanworks? Is it a straight number to XP ratio or is there a quality influence? I don't remember, and the only experience thing in the OP is about people joining up during the prelude. It wasn't relevant in any of past quests I read because this is the first one I've actually gotten involved with.
Usernames
Merc gonna merc ya
PANIC!
He's been teasing us with that for a while now.
I've gone from panic to calm to panic again to often for me to count.
Last edited:
Guile
Having a really great time right now
So... fun character drama, or fun roaring kegger? That is the question.
Sow the Wind
Rihaku
The Internet
Sow the Wind
Creation hung in the balance.
It was strange, to think that. Arrogant, maybe. A day ago he had been a mortal trying to eke out relevance in a world that dismissed mortals. Now, the most powerful Dragon-Blood alive had entrusted him with the fate of nations. It wasn't that he didn't care for his friends - to the contrary, Ulyssian cared much more for their welfare than the Realm's in general. He was no patriot, nor a devout Immaculate, and was not particularly connected to the House that, up till now, had scorned and ignored him. But this was an opportunity to grow strong, at a time when strength was sorely needed. And his strengths did not fall in the arena of interpersonal skills, Ulyssian knew that all too well.
As Odyssial, he'd had Lea to take care of it all. Theirs had been a complementary partnership, he on the physical battlefield, and she on the social one. Nilul was not Lea, and though she was his friend, he did not trust her with the unconditional reserve necessary for her to take up such a role. Not that she would even say yes, given how many favors he already owed her.
"I can't," he finally told her. "I'm sorry. Please give my regards to the others, and... I would be very grateful if you could mitigate the damage of my absence. But there's simply no way. The Headmaster needs me to grow strong, quickly."
Nilul sighed. "I only like failing in physical contests, stupid," she said softly.
"But," she continued, "I'll see what I can do. It won't be much! I can't draw too much attention to myself right now, not of the kind that would make enemies. And being your friend... it's going to make a lot of enemies."
"If any of them bother you, send them at me," he said. "I don't like to fail in any contest, unlike you. Hence I avoid the social ones. That's efficient distribution of labor."
"My, my, the Headmaster's prodigy student! Newly Exalted and already he thinks he can win any duel," she smiled, mocking but friendly.
"But, I guess you are supposed to have been Exalted for years and years now." Her voice became gentler, surprisingly so. "Watch out, Uly. One of these days I may just take you up on that."
"If I save your life, that cancels out all the favors I owe you," he replied, "and then some. And don't call me Uly."
"Oh, Ulyssian," she affected heartbreak, placing two palms over her bosom, "how could you believe that there would be favors owed between us, fellow Incompetents?"
"Because I know you," he said dryly.
She laughed. "That you do, Uly. That you do. Maybe too well, now that I think about it..."
"Leave me alone," he grumbled.
"Your wish is my command, oh fearsome Anathema," she turned around, waving amicably. "Ta-ta~"
Swallowed by the shadows, she disappeared, the red fading into the black.
---
Calibration. Moon, sun, and stars drifted through the void in languorous chaos. Strange powers and quirks of fate abounded. Out there, in the world, among the people or the great wilderness of Creation, this was a time of wonder, bewilderment, and terror. Gods dispensed paradoxical blessings as demons trouped through Creation, howling nameless-canticle songs, bound by laws long forgotten. A closet door could become a portal to the shimmering void, fires might fall up and heal those they burned, and the mirror could show one's face aged by eighty years.
That was out there. Here, in the silence and the dark, Odyssial meditated on war. Destruction thrummed through his veins as his mind played out centuries of conflict. Shut out all sound, shut out all sight, shut out the very input of the senses, and what remained was instinct, the well of battle-skill that he had dipped into, very lightly, against Resolute Flame. Knowledge deeper than language, motion swifter than thought. Through the oculus of that knowledge alone he saw the world and its essence. He immersed himself in it, a man lowering himself into arctic waters: freezing clarity rushing past him at vertiginous speed; cold that went deeper than bone, deeper than marrow.
Calculation, without mercy or sentiment, carefully and ceaselessly cataloguing all possibilities, every weapon that he could wield against the world, charting the path to victory.
That was one facet, one way the lens could be turned, one color of light scattered from the prism. Also there was fury; rage as to boil the blood, unyielding and eternal, sheer power and fire that could reduce a dragon's heart to ash. Also there was precision, the careful patience of the archer, the longbow's curve like an extension of the arm, the bowstring tuned like sinew. Also there was emptiness, the death-dealing sutra, the cessation of self into the perfect slaying mirror. All the facets he gathered, fusing every lens, un-shattering the lightbeam, producing the pure and indivisible whole. Excellence beyond circumstance, perfection beyond appeal. That was the power now settled into his bones, into his self, into the essence of the being called Sesus Ulyssian, who had been called Odyssial.
Earlier than expected, Empty Moon was to wake, and Ulyssian emerged, layer by layer, from his trance. First the kinesthetic sense, then touch and hearing, then scent and smell, and then the blackness of his eyelids and the inside of his skull, so different from the utter absence of sight that was the meditation.
He had not accomplished all he set out to do, but nonetheless he headed into the world again. Calibration was nearly over, and he met with Zao outside of Moon's hospital room.
"All right," Zao said, abruptly without greeting him. "I'll go in first, to tell her the truth about Anathema, as well as the arrangement we now have. Then you may speak to her."
Ulyssian nodded.
Zao nodded, and entered the room.
Minutes later, Zao emerged.
"She is still weak," he said, gruff. "Say your piece, and then get out."
Ulyssian entered, gently shutting the door behind him.
Moon was sitting upright, supported by an embankment of down-stuffed pillows. A square of soft white felt had been set over one of her eyes, and tied to her head with silk. Her other eye shined brightly, however, and a smile was present on her face.
"Uly!" She exclaimed, patting the chair next to her with a plaster-encased hand, "Sit down, I want to give you something."
Tentatively, Ulyssian did so, taking a seat on the chair at her bedside. Moon was notoriously tetchy whenever he hurt himself. Thus, he was surprised to be enfolded in a warm, abrupt hug. The shock of her soft body and the pristine scent of her hair sent a frisson of energy through him.
"Thank you," she murmured quietly, into his shoulder. "But you're never to do anything like that again."
"We'll see," he replied, carefully hugging her back. Moon wasn't the type of person who often required saving. "Are you all right?"
"Mm-hm." She said gently. "Headmaster Zao told me everything."
"That's good," he said. "You don't seem very surprised. About the Immaculate Philosophy... or anything."
Moon giggled slightly. "I know I should be, but inside, I feel so light and giddy! It's very strange. When Zao said in front of everyone that you had always been Exalted and you were his secret successor... I, I felt so foolish, I was afraid that you'd been lying since we first met. And... I was just being silly. Uly is too terrible a liar to do that."
"Basically correct," he mused. "It was a pretty inconvenient place to Exalt. If Zao hadn't acted, we would all have been in trouble."
Moon shook her head. "No, because then they would have had to fight Sesus Ulyssian as a Solar Anathema. And they would have lost."
"Maybe someday," Ulyssian said. "I still need a bit more time. But, I should be strong enough to at least make up for all the times you protected me."
"Oh, Uly," Moon released him, putting a gentle palm on his cheek, "I'll always want to protect you, no matter how weak I am, or how strong you grow. But," she sighed cutely, "I guess we can take turns now... Oh! I forgot to tell you how happy I am for you! You finally Exalted!"
"Finally?" He raised an eyebrow. "I wish I could have been as certain as you."
"Out of all of us, you deserved it most of all, Uly. Please do believe that. Though, it's alright if you don't believe in yourself," Moon patted his hand. "I do, and that's what counts."
"Of course," he rejoined. "After all, the genius, Empty Moon, is never wrong."
"Just so," she said primly.
They sat like that, in companionable silence, for a while. It was almost like the end of one of their sparring sessions, except he was usually the bedridden one.
"Uly," Moon said shyly, "I, ah, only have one eye available right now. Would it be all right if you read to me?" Hesitantly, she held up a leather-bound copy of The Violet Antechamber.
He took it. "But, you can read with one eye."
She pouted. "It would be slower."
How fast did she expect him to read? "Well, alright." He cracked open the book, preparing to speak at a blistering pace.
"Um, don't sit there," Moon objected, scooting over and patting the bed. "I, ah, want to look at the pictures! This bed is too big, you should use it as well, and get comfortable."
A great fear loomed over him then, that somehow the Headmaster would at that moment barge in and berate him for taxing the university's badly injured top student. But Ulyssian ignored it, and sat on the bed alongside Moon. She hugged his arm with both of hers, as was her custom, and rested her head against his shoulder. A deep warmth and contentment pervaded him then, that everything was as it should be.
"Without calculation," he read, "failure. Without ruthlessness, tragedy. So spoke the Sage of All Under Heaven, back in the times before myth..."
The Magnus had indeed said that, but it was after the Primordial War had ended, hardly a time before myth. Ulyssian, who was Odyssial, forced himself to ignore the historical inaccuracies, and eventually found it surprisingly easy. Minutes later, Moon yawned pertly, doing her best to stifle it in front of him, and not long after that, she had nodded off.
Ulyssian wished for a moment that he could stay, but ruthlessly quelled that instinct. He extricated Moon gently from around his arm and set her down to rest. As for himself, there was more training to do.
Or there would have been, had Zao not intercepted him shortly after to subject him to an intensely grueling and not particularly productive sparring session. And so, Sesus Ulyssian's Calibration came to an end.
---
Two days after Calibration, crisis struck.
"They're here for you," Zao said, watching wearily from the window in his office. "I had thought your family would at least have attempted to mount a defense. This goes beyond mere displeasure. They may well disown you, soon."
"I am a bit surprised they were able to mobilize so fast," Ulyssian replied. "the Wyld Hunt usually..."
"The Wyld Hunt usually does not have every wheel lubricated by the helping hand of a dozen Sidereal allies," Zao remanded dryly. "Ivory's faction has made their move. They are not happy about her apparent defection. Unwilling to risk one of their own, nonetheless they will take one piece of mine for the piece I have taken. That is how they see these things."
"We may as well go see what they want," he concluded. "Perhaps this can still be turned to your advantage, somehow."
Five Immaculate shikari, one of each element. Each a wholly dedicated warrior-saint of the Elemental Dragons. A Perfect Brotherhood. Their leader, an austere Immaculate of Water whose razor talons gleamed golden in the daylight, was speaking to Professor Verona when Zao approached.
"Lung Feng Zao," said the Water Aspect, giving a perfunctory bow. Her voice, throaty and almost hoarse, nonetheless carried with a clear tone across the flagstones. Ulyssian's keen sight picked out pale scars across her throat, near her larnyx, cuts like a tiger's claws would have made. "We are here on behalf of the supplicant Resolute Flame, who reports that your successor, Sesus Ulyssian, became Solar Anathema when he intervened in the Ranking Tournament. Flame claims to have seen Ulyssian's Caste Mark of the Forsaken with his own eyes. Further, he claims that this Ulyssian possesses infernal disguise magics, capable of deceiving even the mighty."
A crowd had already begun to gather. Hushed whispers percolated. Ulyssian saw Nilul chatting amicably the front, drawing all attention to herself. Moon stared worriedly at him, then remembered that they were supposed to publicly dissociate, and hastily looked away, pretending to agree with Nilul.
"A patently ridiculous claim," Zao said. "Do you have any proof, besides one unstable student's hearsay?"
"House Sesus has not provided any genealogical records, even upon repeated request," said the Water Aspect. "We find this suspicious. Sesus Ulyssian, if you have nothing to hide, submit to the judgement of the Dragons."
"I'm at odds with my family," Ulyssian said, mostly for the benefit of the crowd. "But I am prepared to face the Dragons. What judgement do they ask?"
"Either," grumbled the Earth Aspect, whose steps caused the ground to tremble, "you are a newborn Anathema, or you are the well-trained secret protege of Lung Feng Zao himself. If you are truly the latter, then you must be formidable indeed in the arts of battle."
"I am but a young stripling, compared to the likes of Admiral Zao," Ulyssian replied, injecting a touch of barely constrained Sesus arrogance. Hopefully that was believable.
"Indeed," continued the Earth Aspect, "but the Admiral is mighty, greater than all of us combined. A newborn Anathema cannot defeat a Perfected Brotherhood of Immaculate shikari, not even if its life is one the line. But a Dragon-Blood who Exalted young, who has been trained for years by the legendary Zao... ought to be able to give a stronger accounting of himself. The Dragons will grace him, they will lend strength to his blows, and he may hold us off."
That was transparently false. Even if Zao's story were true, he would struggle to survive against five fully ordinated Immaculate monks. This wasn't an inquest, it was an execution.
No, thought Odyssial. Not an execution. An opportunity. Working in concert, Five Dragon-Blooded were indeed a formidable threat. But he had faced odds far more fearsome in the past.
"If I prevail, then," he shouted, adopting the stance of a glory-seeking bravo with more skill than sense, "this outrageous accusation will go away? It will be unquestionably confirmed that I am, indeed, Blood of the Dragon?"
"Unquestionably," answered the Earth Aspect, who for all his solemnity could not hide the beginnings of a satisfied grin. "But it would be to the death, young Sesus, I trust you understand that."
"This is ridiculous," snapped Zao, whose fury now enclosed them like the palm of a titan. With a thought, he could destroy all five shikari, crush them to pulp. But that would have effects that would redound across the Realm. "You dare accuse me of harboring an Anathema? Of lying to my honored guests? With a word, I could have you expelled from the grounds. Not even the Dragons may gainsay me here."
"We are prepared to die," answered the Water Aspect quietly. "But we will not go, Lung Feng Zao. You may well be complicit. Slay us, and you will see that the Dragons may gainsay whomsoever they desire, wheresoever they desire."
---
[ ] Negotiate - The Immaculates have attracted an audience, and that can be used against them. They cannot do anything too untoward, or the legitimacy of this while inquest will be called into question. The Great Houses may stomach the occasional intrusion, but they will not accept Immaculate overreach of this degree, not if it is unjustified. Nilul is here, as is Zao. Perhaps you can propose an alternate means of testing, such as via your knowledge of the Immaculate Texts and certain Sesus code-phrases. Certainly that would be a more orthodox method of conducting this investigation. [The Immaculates may try again later]
[ ] Accept - Caution you who sow the wind, for you shall reap the whirlwind. They believe that if it comes to blows, they will easily prevail. And perhaps against almost any days-old Solar, they would be correct. But you are Odyssial, who was Lord Strategos of the Exalted Host, and your blade has cut down Titans. Let them come, the dragons of earth and fire. You will show them what true power is. [+100,000 XP, Immaculate accusations are utterly defeated for several months if you prevail]
[ ] Have Zao Expel Them - The safest option by far, Zao will essentially trade prestige and influence Realm-wide in exchange for additional time. He can maybe delay another two or three months before the costs become prohibitive. Zao won't kill them.
[ ] Write-In - Either of the first two options can benefit extremely highly from a stunt. Also, you may construct backgrounds for the Immaculates not already mentioned, with accuracy scaling to the number and quality of such backgrounds. However, their mechanical stats in battle will not change.
Also, since we didn't get enough votes last time, please choose a title to acquire, and one part of another title. I suggest War-Saint and the damage component of Flash of Steel, as the damage component is a pre-req for everything else, and you do need damage. You're only getting 200,000 XP instead of 240,000 XP instantly spent, because Moon woke up really early and then Zao beat you up. Unlucky, but you can always flash-buy. Zao will lend you his armor to compensate, Artifact 4 Heavy Armor. You do have okay chances against the Immaculates, but if you lose you will die. So don't lose.
Creation hung in the balance.
It was strange, to think that. Arrogant, maybe. A day ago he had been a mortal trying to eke out relevance in a world that dismissed mortals. Now, the most powerful Dragon-Blood alive had entrusted him with the fate of nations. It wasn't that he didn't care for his friends - to the contrary, Ulyssian cared much more for their welfare than the Realm's in general. He was no patriot, nor a devout Immaculate, and was not particularly connected to the House that, up till now, had scorned and ignored him. But this was an opportunity to grow strong, at a time when strength was sorely needed. And his strengths did not fall in the arena of interpersonal skills, Ulyssian knew that all too well.
As Odyssial, he'd had Lea to take care of it all. Theirs had been a complementary partnership, he on the physical battlefield, and she on the social one. Nilul was not Lea, and though she was his friend, he did not trust her with the unconditional reserve necessary for her to take up such a role. Not that she would even say yes, given how many favors he already owed her.
"I can't," he finally told her. "I'm sorry. Please give my regards to the others, and... I would be very grateful if you could mitigate the damage of my absence. But there's simply no way. The Headmaster needs me to grow strong, quickly."
Nilul sighed. "I only like failing in physical contests, stupid," she said softly.
"But," she continued, "I'll see what I can do. It won't be much! I can't draw too much attention to myself right now, not of the kind that would make enemies. And being your friend... it's going to make a lot of enemies."
"If any of them bother you, send them at me," he said. "I don't like to fail in any contest, unlike you. Hence I avoid the social ones. That's efficient distribution of labor."
"My, my, the Headmaster's prodigy student! Newly Exalted and already he thinks he can win any duel," she smiled, mocking but friendly.
"But, I guess you are supposed to have been Exalted for years and years now." Her voice became gentler, surprisingly so. "Watch out, Uly. One of these days I may just take you up on that."
"If I save your life, that cancels out all the favors I owe you," he replied, "and then some. And don't call me Uly."
"Oh, Ulyssian," she affected heartbreak, placing two palms over her bosom, "how could you believe that there would be favors owed between us, fellow Incompetents?"
"Because I know you," he said dryly.
She laughed. "That you do, Uly. That you do. Maybe too well, now that I think about it..."
"Leave me alone," he grumbled.
"Your wish is my command, oh fearsome Anathema," she turned around, waving amicably. "Ta-ta~"
Swallowed by the shadows, she disappeared, the red fading into the black.
---
Calibration. Moon, sun, and stars drifted through the void in languorous chaos. Strange powers and quirks of fate abounded. Out there, in the world, among the people or the great wilderness of Creation, this was a time of wonder, bewilderment, and terror. Gods dispensed paradoxical blessings as demons trouped through Creation, howling nameless-canticle songs, bound by laws long forgotten. A closet door could become a portal to the shimmering void, fires might fall up and heal those they burned, and the mirror could show one's face aged by eighty years.
That was out there. Here, in the silence and the dark, Odyssial meditated on war. Destruction thrummed through his veins as his mind played out centuries of conflict. Shut out all sound, shut out all sight, shut out the very input of the senses, and what remained was instinct, the well of battle-skill that he had dipped into, very lightly, against Resolute Flame. Knowledge deeper than language, motion swifter than thought. Through the oculus of that knowledge alone he saw the world and its essence. He immersed himself in it, a man lowering himself into arctic waters: freezing clarity rushing past him at vertiginous speed; cold that went deeper than bone, deeper than marrow.
Calculation, without mercy or sentiment, carefully and ceaselessly cataloguing all possibilities, every weapon that he could wield against the world, charting the path to victory.
That was one facet, one way the lens could be turned, one color of light scattered from the prism. Also there was fury; rage as to boil the blood, unyielding and eternal, sheer power and fire that could reduce a dragon's heart to ash. Also there was precision, the careful patience of the archer, the longbow's curve like an extension of the arm, the bowstring tuned like sinew. Also there was emptiness, the death-dealing sutra, the cessation of self into the perfect slaying mirror. All the facets he gathered, fusing every lens, un-shattering the lightbeam, producing the pure and indivisible whole. Excellence beyond circumstance, perfection beyond appeal. That was the power now settled into his bones, into his self, into the essence of the being called Sesus Ulyssian, who had been called Odyssial.
Earlier than expected, Empty Moon was to wake, and Ulyssian emerged, layer by layer, from his trance. First the kinesthetic sense, then touch and hearing, then scent and smell, and then the blackness of his eyelids and the inside of his skull, so different from the utter absence of sight that was the meditation.
He had not accomplished all he set out to do, but nonetheless he headed into the world again. Calibration was nearly over, and he met with Zao outside of Moon's hospital room.
"All right," Zao said, abruptly without greeting him. "I'll go in first, to tell her the truth about Anathema, as well as the arrangement we now have. Then you may speak to her."
Ulyssian nodded.
Zao nodded, and entered the room.
Minutes later, Zao emerged.
"She is still weak," he said, gruff. "Say your piece, and then get out."
Ulyssian entered, gently shutting the door behind him.
Moon was sitting upright, supported by an embankment of down-stuffed pillows. A square of soft white felt had been set over one of her eyes, and tied to her head with silk. Her other eye shined brightly, however, and a smile was present on her face.
"Uly!" She exclaimed, patting the chair next to her with a plaster-encased hand, "Sit down, I want to give you something."
Tentatively, Ulyssian did so, taking a seat on the chair at her bedside. Moon was notoriously tetchy whenever he hurt himself. Thus, he was surprised to be enfolded in a warm, abrupt hug. The shock of her soft body and the pristine scent of her hair sent a frisson of energy through him.
"Thank you," she murmured quietly, into his shoulder. "But you're never to do anything like that again."
"We'll see," he replied, carefully hugging her back. Moon wasn't the type of person who often required saving. "Are you all right?"
"Mm-hm." She said gently. "Headmaster Zao told me everything."
"That's good," he said. "You don't seem very surprised. About the Immaculate Philosophy... or anything."
Moon giggled slightly. "I know I should be, but inside, I feel so light and giddy! It's very strange. When Zao said in front of everyone that you had always been Exalted and you were his secret successor... I, I felt so foolish, I was afraid that you'd been lying since we first met. And... I was just being silly. Uly is too terrible a liar to do that."
"Basically correct," he mused. "It was a pretty inconvenient place to Exalt. If Zao hadn't acted, we would all have been in trouble."
Moon shook her head. "No, because then they would have had to fight Sesus Ulyssian as a Solar Anathema. And they would have lost."
"Maybe someday," Ulyssian said. "I still need a bit more time. But, I should be strong enough to at least make up for all the times you protected me."
"Oh, Uly," Moon released him, putting a gentle palm on his cheek, "I'll always want to protect you, no matter how weak I am, or how strong you grow. But," she sighed cutely, "I guess we can take turns now... Oh! I forgot to tell you how happy I am for you! You finally Exalted!"
"Finally?" He raised an eyebrow. "I wish I could have been as certain as you."
"Out of all of us, you deserved it most of all, Uly. Please do believe that. Though, it's alright if you don't believe in yourself," Moon patted his hand. "I do, and that's what counts."
"Of course," he rejoined. "After all, the genius, Empty Moon, is never wrong."
"Just so," she said primly.
They sat like that, in companionable silence, for a while. It was almost like the end of one of their sparring sessions, except he was usually the bedridden one.
"Uly," Moon said shyly, "I, ah, only have one eye available right now. Would it be all right if you read to me?" Hesitantly, she held up a leather-bound copy of The Violet Antechamber.
He took it. "But, you can read with one eye."
She pouted. "It would be slower."
How fast did she expect him to read? "Well, alright." He cracked open the book, preparing to speak at a blistering pace.
"Um, don't sit there," Moon objected, scooting over and patting the bed. "I, ah, want to look at the pictures! This bed is too big, you should use it as well, and get comfortable."
A great fear loomed over him then, that somehow the Headmaster would at that moment barge in and berate him for taxing the university's badly injured top student. But Ulyssian ignored it, and sat on the bed alongside Moon. She hugged his arm with both of hers, as was her custom, and rested her head against his shoulder. A deep warmth and contentment pervaded him then, that everything was as it should be.
"Without calculation," he read, "failure. Without ruthlessness, tragedy. So spoke the Sage of All Under Heaven, back in the times before myth..."
The Magnus had indeed said that, but it was after the Primordial War had ended, hardly a time before myth. Ulyssian, who was Odyssial, forced himself to ignore the historical inaccuracies, and eventually found it surprisingly easy. Minutes later, Moon yawned pertly, doing her best to stifle it in front of him, and not long after that, she had nodded off.
Ulyssian wished for a moment that he could stay, but ruthlessly quelled that instinct. He extricated Moon gently from around his arm and set her down to rest. As for himself, there was more training to do.
Or there would have been, had Zao not intercepted him shortly after to subject him to an intensely grueling and not particularly productive sparring session. And so, Sesus Ulyssian's Calibration came to an end.
---
Two days after Calibration, crisis struck.
"They're here for you," Zao said, watching wearily from the window in his office. "I had thought your family would at least have attempted to mount a defense. This goes beyond mere displeasure. They may well disown you, soon."
"I am a bit surprised they were able to mobilize so fast," Ulyssian replied. "the Wyld Hunt usually..."
"The Wyld Hunt usually does not have every wheel lubricated by the helping hand of a dozen Sidereal allies," Zao remanded dryly. "Ivory's faction has made their move. They are not happy about her apparent defection. Unwilling to risk one of their own, nonetheless they will take one piece of mine for the piece I have taken. That is how they see these things."
"We may as well go see what they want," he concluded. "Perhaps this can still be turned to your advantage, somehow."
Five Immaculate shikari, one of each element. Each a wholly dedicated warrior-saint of the Elemental Dragons. A Perfect Brotherhood. Their leader, an austere Immaculate of Water whose razor talons gleamed golden in the daylight, was speaking to Professor Verona when Zao approached.
"Lung Feng Zao," said the Water Aspect, giving a perfunctory bow. Her voice, throaty and almost hoarse, nonetheless carried with a clear tone across the flagstones. Ulyssian's keen sight picked out pale scars across her throat, near her larnyx, cuts like a tiger's claws would have made. "We are here on behalf of the supplicant Resolute Flame, who reports that your successor, Sesus Ulyssian, became Solar Anathema when he intervened in the Ranking Tournament. Flame claims to have seen Ulyssian's Caste Mark of the Forsaken with his own eyes. Further, he claims that this Ulyssian possesses infernal disguise magics, capable of deceiving even the mighty."
A crowd had already begun to gather. Hushed whispers percolated. Ulyssian saw Nilul chatting amicably the front, drawing all attention to herself. Moon stared worriedly at him, then remembered that they were supposed to publicly dissociate, and hastily looked away, pretending to agree with Nilul.
"A patently ridiculous claim," Zao said. "Do you have any proof, besides one unstable student's hearsay?"
"House Sesus has not provided any genealogical records, even upon repeated request," said the Water Aspect. "We find this suspicious. Sesus Ulyssian, if you have nothing to hide, submit to the judgement of the Dragons."
"I'm at odds with my family," Ulyssian said, mostly for the benefit of the crowd. "But I am prepared to face the Dragons. What judgement do they ask?"
"Either," grumbled the Earth Aspect, whose steps caused the ground to tremble, "you are a newborn Anathema, or you are the well-trained secret protege of Lung Feng Zao himself. If you are truly the latter, then you must be formidable indeed in the arts of battle."
"I am but a young stripling, compared to the likes of Admiral Zao," Ulyssian replied, injecting a touch of barely constrained Sesus arrogance. Hopefully that was believable.
"Indeed," continued the Earth Aspect, "but the Admiral is mighty, greater than all of us combined. A newborn Anathema cannot defeat a Perfected Brotherhood of Immaculate shikari, not even if its life is one the line. But a Dragon-Blood who Exalted young, who has been trained for years by the legendary Zao... ought to be able to give a stronger accounting of himself. The Dragons will grace him, they will lend strength to his blows, and he may hold us off."
That was transparently false. Even if Zao's story were true, he would struggle to survive against five fully ordinated Immaculate monks. This wasn't an inquest, it was an execution.
No, thought Odyssial. Not an execution. An opportunity. Working in concert, Five Dragon-Blooded were indeed a formidable threat. But he had faced odds far more fearsome in the past.
"If I prevail, then," he shouted, adopting the stance of a glory-seeking bravo with more skill than sense, "this outrageous accusation will go away? It will be unquestionably confirmed that I am, indeed, Blood of the Dragon?"
"Unquestionably," answered the Earth Aspect, who for all his solemnity could not hide the beginnings of a satisfied grin. "But it would be to the death, young Sesus, I trust you understand that."
"This is ridiculous," snapped Zao, whose fury now enclosed them like the palm of a titan. With a thought, he could destroy all five shikari, crush them to pulp. But that would have effects that would redound across the Realm. "You dare accuse me of harboring an Anathema? Of lying to my honored guests? With a word, I could have you expelled from the grounds. Not even the Dragons may gainsay me here."
"We are prepared to die," answered the Water Aspect quietly. "But we will not go, Lung Feng Zao. You may well be complicit. Slay us, and you will see that the Dragons may gainsay whomsoever they desire, wheresoever they desire."
---
[ ] Negotiate - The Immaculates have attracted an audience, and that can be used against them. They cannot do anything too untoward, or the legitimacy of this while inquest will be called into question. The Great Houses may stomach the occasional intrusion, but they will not accept Immaculate overreach of this degree, not if it is unjustified. Nilul is here, as is Zao. Perhaps you can propose an alternate means of testing, such as via your knowledge of the Immaculate Texts and certain Sesus code-phrases. Certainly that would be a more orthodox method of conducting this investigation. [The Immaculates may try again later]
[ ] Accept - Caution you who sow the wind, for you shall reap the whirlwind. They believe that if it comes to blows, they will easily prevail. And perhaps against almost any days-old Solar, they would be correct. But you are Odyssial, who was Lord Strategos of the Exalted Host, and your blade has cut down Titans. Let them come, the dragons of earth and fire. You will show them what true power is. [+100,000 XP, Immaculate accusations are utterly defeated for several months if you prevail]
[ ] Have Zao Expel Them - The safest option by far, Zao will essentially trade prestige and influence Realm-wide in exchange for additional time. He can maybe delay another two or three months before the costs become prohibitive. Zao won't kill them.
[ ] Write-In - Either of the first two options can benefit extremely highly from a stunt. Also, you may construct backgrounds for the Immaculates not already mentioned, with accuracy scaling to the number and quality of such backgrounds. However, their mechanical stats in battle will not change.
Also, since we didn't get enough votes last time, please choose a title to acquire, and one part of another title. I suggest War-Saint and the damage component of Flash of Steel, as the damage component is a pre-req for everything else, and you do need damage. You're only getting 200,000 XP instead of 240,000 XP instantly spent, because Moon woke up really early and then Zao beat you up. Unlucky, but you can always flash-buy. Zao will lend you his armor to compensate, Artifact 4 Heavy Armor. You do have okay chances against the Immaculates, but if you lose you will die. So don't lose.
Usernames
Merc gonna merc ya
[X] Accept - Caution you who sow the wind, for you shall reap the whirlwind. They believe that if it comes to blows, they will easily prevail. And perhaps against almost any days-old Solar, they would be correct. But you are Odyssial, who was Lord Strategos of the Exalted Host, and your blade has cut down Titans. Let them come, the dragons of earth and fire. You will show them what true power is. [+100,000 XP, Immaculate accusations are utterly defeated for several months if you prevail]
[X]War-Saint
-[X] Flash of Steel (Damage component)
XP bitches.
@Rihaku Does Ambtion looks like this?
Long sword with a white blade.
[X]War-Saint
-[X] Flash of Steel (Damage component)
XP bitches.
@Rihaku Does Ambtion looks like this?
Long sword with a white blade.
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Emerald Oracle
Chaos, yet harmony. Death, yet the Force
- Location
- The Else
Red option is RED! hmmm, I really don't know what to do, but I will at some point later on, once ideas have settled attempt a stunt for whichever argument ends up swaying me. In the meantime I will submit my votes for titles as Ryuugi has suggested, because Combat seems HELLA likely at this point. I'm actually ok with that in a way I probably wouldn't be normally as victory in combat here will apparently explicitly blunt the Sidereal Conspiracy's plans against us.
[x] War-Saint
-[x] Flash of Steel (Damage Component)
[x] War-Saint
-[x] Flash of Steel (Damage Component)
Worse comes to worse, since Accept comes with 100k XP, we can use it to flash buy charms. In fact, that's probably a pretty good idea.
We buy Flash of Steel as well as 40k of War Saint, then flash buy the rest of it. We'll lose 20k over optimum spending, but should have a pretty good chance of victory.
We buy Flash of Steel as well as 40k of War Saint, then flash buy the rest of it. We'll lose 20k over optimum spending, but should have a pretty good chance of victory.
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inawarminister
I ♥ anime
[X] Accept - Caution you who sow the wind, for you shall reap the whirlwind. They believe that if it comes to blows, they will easily prevail. And perhaps against almost any days-old Solar, they would be correct. But you are Odyssial, who was Lord Strategos of the Exalted Host, and your blade has cut down Titans. Let them come, the dragons of earth and fire. You will show them what true power is. [+100,000 XP, Immaculate accusations are utterly defeated for several months if you prevail]
This is what you Chose.
This is what you Chose.
Hmm... combat against a Perfected Brotherhood would be a suicidal proposition, were we anyone else; as Ulyssian, it is merely risky. Extremely so. Syn really has gone for broke...
If we prevail, though, we not only protect Zao's political power from diminishment, we sow the seeds of Sesus Ulyssian's own independent legend, a pool of influence entirely our own. It bears further consideration, but I'm leaning towards accepting. We'll need stunts, though.
If we prevail, though, we not only protect Zao's political power from diminishment, we sow the seeds of Sesus Ulyssian's own independent legend, a pool of influence entirely our own. It bears further consideration, but I'm leaning towards accepting. We'll need stunts, though.
Rihaku
The Internet
Does it? There are two options that don't involve combat at all. You guys can just play it safe and shelter under Zao's aegis, as he would desire.
[X] Accept - Caution you who sow the wind, for you shall reap the whirlwind. They believe that if it comes to blows, they will easily prevail. And perhaps against almost any days-old Solar, they would be correct. But you are Odyssial, who was Lord Strategos of the Exalted Host, and your blade has cut down Titans. Let them come, the dragons of earth and fire. You will show them what true power is. [+100,000 XP, Immaculate accusations are utterly defeated for several months if you prevail]
[X]War-Saint
-[X] Flash of Steel (Damage component)
[X]War-Saint
-[X] Flash of Steel (Damage component)