So in the interest of reviving the practice of going over Rihaku updates for XP and fun let's begin!
Prelude: The First Sunset
I see that we've gone back to the old naming convention! Hooray I found the one used in They Called Me Mad to be a bit too impersonal and it's good to see that it's back. Given how central to the setting Sol Invictus is in Exalted any title that deals with him has to be important, doubly so for what the first sunset meant.
The sun was moving. It had never done that before, and so Odyssial was tracking it.
And here's our protagonist, observing phenomena so far beyond his understanding and ability to control it's a little hilarious. Also it appears that the 300 murder engines that shaped the setting into what it is were just created.
I must find a way, he reminded himself. He had to stay focused; to waver was death. Even if the sun vanishes, I must find a way for us to survive.
Unable to do anything about the world he knows changing before his eyes and still he struggles to find some way to survive, the first thoughts we see of our protagonist are those of someone who will not stand slack-jawed when confronted by the impossible butroll with whatever comes his way. Also "we" the only figure we ever heard of who was associated with Odyssial, and not shitting themselves in terror, was his Lunar mate it will be interesting to see what his life was like before he exalted.
From the apex of its height in the sky, it had steadily descended towards the lip of the horizon. At this rate, it would disappear entirely, and soon. That did not bode well for Odyssial, or for the small tribe that he now led. What would they do if the sun... disappeared?
He's a mere mortal witnessing something unprecedented and it terrifies him even as he tries to deal with it, for all his knowledge he is unable to stop something that effects the entire world. All across Creation people are witnessing the death of an age and they have no idea what to do about it. Will some of them worship the distant green light of Ligier in hopes of finding some way to continue going on, will the priests of the UCS think that their god is dying? Hell I have to wonder what story the UCS is weaving to Theion about his sudden lessening. Also again we have a mention about a larger community, one of which Odyssial is apparently a leader.
Once, they had been a great people. Prosperous, learned, capable of bending bronze from the earth into tools of agriculture, tradecraft, even war. In a land of mountains and valleys, they had colonized the valleys and made headway against the mountains.
Humankind had been built to quail in terror, to turn easily towards superstition and the worship of spirits. Their place, in the order of things, was to pray for succor, and thereby provide an easy source of adoration and reverence to the gods, who could metabolize that devotion into spiritual strength. But in this purpose, as in many others, mankind was imperfect, and Odyssial's people had aspired to a greater meaning.
An early bronze age civilization just starting to come into their Zenith, questioning the world around them and rising above their base programming. It's a strangely heartwarming and inspiring sight coming from the time when the Primordials ruled over the world, hell it's a strange sight in Exalted period.
It was not for this reason that they had been slaughtered.
Well shit. I guess that's why it's so unusual to see but goddamn Odyssial hasn't had it easy has he?
There were those in the tribe who believed otherwise, but they did not know the daevas as Odyssial did. Odyssial had treated with daevas, traded with them. Long years he had spent, studying deep into the night, wracking his spirit so that he could twist his mind around the twenty-seven Trade Cants of their Grand Marketplace. He had risen as high in their estimation as a mortal could: lower by far than a peer, but somewhat above an insect.
In secret, he had even hunted the more bestial daevas, when they ranged too far into human lands and devoured children. He had learned how to sprint without breath to stalk the fleet-footed voshino. He had built great pit traps to strike down the hardy cogolem, letting gravity do what human thews could not. He had flayed off broad strips of his own shoulder and cured them in the sun to serve as bait for the wary selantis.
An interesting insight in the perspective of demons (or daevas as they are now called), humanity is the deliberately flawed creation of their oversoul designed to worship and provide for the caretakers of the world. They are by all indications the servants of the slaves of their progenitors so of course it makes sense that they have such a low opinion of them.
It is interesting to note that Odyssial utilized trickery to take down the daevas, even before his people were apparently slaughtered. Was it out of dissatisfaction of the way the world was ordered, did he want to protect his people?
Daevas, Odyssial knew, did not think like humans did. Most of the time they did not even pay attention to humans, and could fail tell the difference between an impoverished village and a flourishing fortress-city.
Human cities had endured cataclysm in the past. Every so often there would come a blood-storm that boiled men from their homes, or a wind full of teeth that sliced flesh to ribbons, or a crimson flood that swept in over their walls, drowning every first daughter and second son. Sometimes full seasons would pass between decimations, and sometimes not. Tragedy had been an inescapable aspect of their lives, but they were not a people that easily gave in to despair. They'd had many children, and the valleys were bountiful. They had persevered, and that was simply the order of things.
And this is why living in the era when Titans walked the earth was a
bad thing. Also "wind full of teeth that sliced flesh to ribbons" if this is Adorjan then I think we might have a continuity here here
@Rihaku as she only born during the Primordial War. Though I suppose it could just be a 3rd circle daeva.
Men, Odyssial reasoned, were created to be fearful, so it only stood to reason that many things in this world seemed fearsome to them. Even the mightiest of mortal warriors struggled to match a daeva of the First Circle. Ten thousand together would struggle even to scratch a daeva of the Third. They could do little but endure, and even in that they were flawed. Acid waterfalls, lava wellsprings, mists that blurred flesh into gold: Perhaps mortals were simply so frail, that the beautiful things of this world were just... incidentally lethal to them.
And yet for all that living in this era was incredibly horrific it must have been beautiful, the impossibility of Malfeas unmarred and exposed to Creation.
But to its proper inhabitants, to the daevas and gods and the kings of gods above them, the world was probably a place of sublime glory and beauty.
Some of that beauty shined before him, as the bright orb above continued its slow decline. The mountain peaks were stone the color of blood, crowned with icecaps like knives. As the sun descended, they blazed like molten gold. The valleys were green grass stippled with black, rivers like glistening serpents, trees like puffs of cloud. From the height of this peak, he could see their home valley, where, on that fateful day, the deadly flower had appeared. It dwarfed even the mountains, a single impossible blossom, ochre and violet. Its buds splayed out for miles, leaves shooting up in a Titan's phalanx of blades. Its top brushed up against the very dome of the sky. Under every petal, a civilization of daevas sheltered from the sun's zenith glare.
Metagaos is that you? Because I could easily imagine you to be a thing of constant beauty and growth before an untimely fetich death mutilated you. Also you do a great job of describing an otherworldly yet horrifically beautiful creation.
From the daevas Odyssial had learned that it was named Lethos, the Flowerbed Panoply, and that it was a Primordial Titan, an architect of the world. A god above all gods; even the daevas were merely its souls. It had desired a place to set down, and the tribes of men had simply been in its way. The daevas had assured him that Lethos bore them no malice, but surely men could not expect Her to lower Herself by warning them? That was how he knew that the death of their civilization had been a cataclysm like any other, the product of an unguessable and inscrutable alien whim. Some devastations killed two children in ten, and some killed ninety-nine in a hundred. Dooms like the latter simply did not leave anyone behind to record them, and so there were no such records in the annals of men.
And we have the first name to put on our Arya list! I wonder if Odyssial knew about the Primordials before this, while it might seem improbable given that it's their Creation given the unknown size of our world it may very well have been.
Over a year later, Odyssial still vividly remembered that day. He remembered tendrils the size of tree trunks coiling down from heaven, sun and sky blotted out by the Titan's dreadnought canopy. Its movements had seemed lethargic from a distance, but they were of a scale that dwarfed comprehension. A Titan could move further in one stride than a man could in a year of sprinting. He remembered the sound of grinding bones as it settled over their city, too fast for all but the swiftest to dash clear of the edge. He remembered the sudden and total panic, the too-brief screams. A blood-red mist had puffed from the seams of the flower as it'd settled, the final respiration of their city-state.
... holy shit. I realize that this isn't really productive commentary but damn just reading about what may very well have been a mere change of scenery of Lethos is horrifying. And poor Odyssial, for someone who seems to pride himself on controlling the situation watching everything going to shit one day out of the blue must have been horrible. Frankly it's a little surprising that he didn't just go mad from it all, a mere man watching it all be ground to dust in an instant.
Then came the swift, total poisoning of the valley grounds beneath them, all the grass dying off in a single blackening wave. Then came the long, hungry march outwards and upwards, passing the putrefied corpses of those that had chosen swifter deaths than starvation. Fourteen brothers and sisters he'd had before that day, and now they were three.
Why? No seriously Lethos why do you do this? Why poison the ground around you, is it just some leftover instinct from the time you warred with your brethren before the creation of linear time? Also I see that many people did in fact give up, and more power to Odyssial for persevering through it all. If ever there was a zealot in the Primordial wars I imagine it must have been him, after all how many Solars personally had their lives ruined by them beforehand?
Idly he toyed with the talisman on his arm. Woven of weeds, flowers, and reeds, it was Nio's creation, her first thaumaturgical work. She was his littlest sibling, an inveterate brat, but already precocious in the mystical arts. The stubborn hint of a smile worked its way past his facade. He had no idea what the talisman did, if it even did anything.
"For good luck!" She'd proclaimed, as she'd pinned it on his sleeve. "One day, I'll be a mighty sorceress and protect all of the People. Until then," she'd sighed, patting the thing, "you'll have to make do with this."
8 sentences and she's already wormed her way into my heart why do you do this Rihaku? Why do you introduce people that will inevitably fade and die, people who will inevitably be lost in the story of Odyssial as they find themselves unable to compete with the might that the sun imbued him with.
Down to the mannerisms of the sigh, it was the same way their mother had spoken. Odyssial had never seen Nio cry. She didn't complain, even when the tribe force-marched at paces that made grown men groan. Tragedy had only made her work harder, learn faster. She may well have become a sorceress, one of the rare mortals to rise above the lot of mortality, if their civilization and its libraries had survived.
... what happened to our mom? While I assume that she must have died it doesn't really seem to be explicitly stated anywhere. And one more soul is forged by the crucible into something great despite the loss it has suffered, and the greatest joke is that it will always be for nothing. Will Odyssial remember her when he goes to stand before the Deliberative regarding the new legislation that will damn millions of souls to the Wyld? Or will he be already lost in his desire for self-perfection.
In his secret heart, he hated Lethos.
He was one of the few who dared. But he knew vengeance was not a practical endeavor. Survival was much more urgent, and difficult enough.
I must find a way, he repeated to himself.
Atta-boy Odyssial rage against the makers of the world, for all that it seems pointless don't give up on the idea of one day bringing justice to those who pre-exist the concept. For the moment though focus on surviving till you get your god-engine.
He had turned his people away from the fat and powerful gods, seeking out spirits as bedraggled and desperate as the tribe itself. Better to have a minor power willing to act on their behalf, than a mighty one too lazy even to notice them. He had collaborated with their remaining priests and medicine men, breaking down superstition, deriving from first principles, carefully constructing a series of rituals to maximally strengthen those allies per unit of worship time.
And the prayer factories begin, albeit one with a remarkably effective union and leader. Lesser supernatural beings turned into something worthy of worship through deals which benefit both parties.
When hungry ghosts had caught their scent, he'd killed a group of billy goats and strung them out on a trail that diverged from the one his tribe had taken. When the hoarstorm had come, threatening to rip away their tents, he'd weighted down their moorings with cogolem stones, pitting supernatural weight against supernatural wind. When a cataphract of the Fair had blocked their path, demanding slaves as tribute, he had offered himself instead, thereby getting close enough to bury a dagger in its gut. A normally useless gesture, but his blade had been coated in the grass-blackening poison of Lethos.
The horrors of an age of magic and wonder come roaring out at Odyssial and he bravely faces them down and shanks them in the guts. This is a better opening to his character then I think I ever would have expected and in hindsight makes his desire for power so much more understandable. When you are powerless you want to be out of that situation, also lol at him using the destroyer of his civilization as a weapon. I also can't help but think that he would really like the Technocracy, odd as it might sound.
When the endurance of men failed, he diverted their tormentors or counter-attacked from ambush. When strength of arms could not carry the day, a rockslide trap might. Hunting wolves could be diverted towards daeva hunters. Storm winds could extinguish their campfires, but lightning jewels could harness that same storm to re-ignite them. Bestial daevas could be tricked. Civilized daevas could be bribed.
The mind of a man put to good use after being honed through constant strife and warfare while being made into something wonderful by calamity. I know that Rihaku hasn't formalized the system yet but I really want to see what his stats look like now, because from the sounds of it he has dots in everything.
Thus far, they'd found a way past every disaster. Not infallibly, but enough to keep at least some of the band alive. This world was full of such possibility that even a human could do that much. And because the world was not actively trying to kill them, they had survived so far.
But they were still losing people. Each cataclysm they were being whittled down. One here, two there. What had been a troupe of seventy-five had, over the past year, become twenty-three.
And despite the heroics, despite the clever tactics, despite the wise leadership, despite all the rage that humanity can muster against it's creators, despite the unyielding will that saw them through the destruction of everything that they once knew despite it all...
they will lose. The forces against them are too great for humanity to deal with, despite everything they will lose.
And now the sun was moving.
And to top it all of there's this asshole. Of all the times to kick someone's morale in the balls this might be the worst Sol! Being serious though this must be heartbreaking for Odyssial, and I imagine those who strode forward despite the first dark must have numbered amongst the first Solars.
Very possibly, it was going away. Where did that leave them? Could they survive without it? He held himself in stillness, observing the world. The shadows grew longer; the air grew less warm. If the sun dipped all the way below the horizon, would they be left in darkness? Would it return - he could not be that optimistic.
Someone get Lilithium because oh god Odyssial needs a hug. Something that is part of everyday life for everyone in creation seems to be the end of the world to him.
Crops in shade grew worse than crops exposed. Their dream, of finding a secluded meadow to settle, was likely gone. Fire would be at a premium, the only reliable source of heat and light. Spirits of darkness, cold, and associated emotions would grow stronger, while their opposites weakened. He would have to act fast, secure the alliance of one that was frail before it realized its coming strength. Could he bid one against another, set darkness against cold to see which spirit could offer greater benevolence in exchange for their party's small but efficient trickle of worship?
And he has dots in Craft: Wood as well and is already looking at the long-term. He might even be able to manage it though I think he knows that this would radically shift the bargaining power in their favor should they decide to renegotiate.
Venturing far from shelter would become excessively dangerous, that was likely the greatest threat. Exposure and heavy wind would kill with the cold, so they would have to find a cave complex to settle in. Water and food would be more difficult to secure, but animals that relied on sight would be vulnerable. Without a large source of water in or near the cave complex, they would die. That meant they needed to shelter next to an icecap, or find a cave with a lake inside.
A time of great disorientation was coming, and its apparent factors did not favor them. But if they acted swiftly, perhaps they could exploit the change enough to emerge stronger than before.
A dark world where life hangs on by the merest thread, this is the world that Odyssial imagines, preparing for the worst case scenarios and rolling with the blows. I wonder what his Limit gauge is looking like right now. For all the cynicism and horror that he's gone through however Odyssial still dares to imagine that his people might come out of this not only intact but richer for the experience.
An eon of darkness, isolation, and cold. It was sheer lunacy to think they'd come out ahead. But the Titans had been wise in their crafting of men. Odyssial feared not just for himself, but for all those that were counting on him. And because of that, it was not, "I should find a way." It was and could only be, "I must."
Failure was not an option he could entertain. Even if he could see the dire and hopeless trend. Even if he knew more than anyone how slim their chances were. Two-thirds of their tribe gone in a year - even so, he could not stop trying. Even if they could never win, neither could they stop playing this world's futile game. The mere prospect of a loss was too horrible to comprehend.
It's the end of the world as he knows it, the dark creeping in as a universal constant proves to be flawed. On a hill a man of a once great civilization looks to the skies and ponders his hopeless odds and despite it all he decides to fight it all. I think Odyssial might be giving himself a bit too little credit here as well, how many men would shoulder the yolk of responsibility as well as he did here? How many wen would break under the expectations of his people, how many would decide that the cruel game designed by the makers of the world is just too difficult and decide to give up? And yet despite it all Odyssial is not one of those men, he is a man who has emerged from trials to become a hero of guile and planning someone who protects humanity from the things that dwell in the dark. He out of all the examples given in Exalted might be someone truly worthy of his Exaltation, let's try and keep it that way.
[ ] Dawn - Turn back East, and return to the camp. That darkness will fall, seems inevitable. Whatever abyss may come, you will confront it head-on, stare into its depths unblinking. The world may be changing, but the paths to victory remain the same. Ruthlessness. Strategy. And above all else, the unrelenting will to prevail. It is not by choice that you live by the sword, but if not for the sword, you would not be alive.
Aspect: The Strategist
Superlative Quality: Will
Greatness: 9 to 10
Heartlessness: 7 to 10
The indomitable warrior who will make the heavens themselves tremble for the ones they took from him. The Bronze Tiger with a Heart of Flint who will order a million DB's to die just to delay a titan for an hour. The glorious hero who will acquit himself with all the honors the world has to offer. The SoB whose Anima power will break the settings balance over it's knee. And despite it all he will fail and Ulyssian will rise, I can't help but hope this prologue never ends.
[ ] Twilight - Continue to observe until the sun disappears. This is crucial data, an irretrievable resource in a world where knowledge is often humanity's only recourse to power. With that data, you will plan. You will iterate and adapt. Preparation and foresight are your watchwords, the ceaseless accumulation of advantage.
Aspect: The Schemer
Superlative Quality: Cunning
Greatness: 7 to 10
Heartlessness: 5 to 9
The god mechanic who engineered the downfall of daevas. The planner who will duel with Rationality, Opposition and Utter Majesty for the fate of the world. The man who might just make the world a better place, if he doesn't damn it with grand experiments that make the Salina working look petty.
[ ] Night - Strike out alone, and further, performing forward reconnaissance. You will have to trust in the ability of Nio and your lieutenants to discern the proper strategies. In the meantime, you, most capable of your tribe's scouts, must find a place for the tribe to shelter, during the darkness to come. Always you have been alone, forging the path, finding the way. Though you are their chieftain, in many ways you are an outsider to your own clan. But that does not mean you will fail to protect them.
Aspect: The Solitaire
Superlative Quality: Perceptiveness
Greatness: 6 to 10
Heartlessness: 5 to 8
And the knife in the dark who shivved a Fae after offering himself as a prisoner. The cloaked figure who can join the Sidereals in their crusade to usurp Yu-Shan from the Primordials through guile unmatched. The Cassandra who may notice the flaws inherent in greatness before he succumbs to madness. And the only one who can't reach Heartlessness 9 for some strange reason.
I'll stick with my choice but this is a very tempting offer Rihaku, should the word-count include the quotes that I made because if so it currently stands at 4303.
