Guile
Having a really great time right now
Maybe they'd enjoy a story of being terrorized and murdered for a change.
[Exalted, ?] Most High
- Thread starter Rihaku
- Start date
-
- Tags
- exalted (white wolf)
Rihaku
The Internet
No, but since you have no social Charms, they can just spend a WP to resist.
[X] Contemplation
People I get why you are going for the other options but this is the best one. As tempting head off is in the short term as it prevents death it also means that the city doesn't get to have a massive victory to give them hope. That hope is something we need just as much as we need the army dead. That means heading the fae off is the sub optimal option for this choice.
With head off removed we are left with siege warfare and contemplation. Going with Siege warfare gives us a better first impression as a conventional commander but is less effective at actually winning the battle compared to contemplation. Contemplation will give us the reputation as an eccentric but brilliant commander. We want that reputation. Uly lacks the social skills to be a conventionally beloved commander but the eccentric miracle worker is something his lack of social skills just supplements. It works best for us in the long term to be viewed as the hero who does things in inscrutable ways then pulls a miracle out if his ass.
What makes the bigger legend a general setting up fortifications or locking himself in a library until an hour before the fight and comes out with a plan as brilliants as it is insane that carries the day.
People I get why you are going for the other options but this is the best one. As tempting head off is in the short term as it prevents death it also means that the city doesn't get to have a massive victory to give them hope. That hope is something we need just as much as we need the army dead. That means heading the fae off is the sub optimal option for this choice.
With head off removed we are left with siege warfare and contemplation. Going with Siege warfare gives us a better first impression as a conventional commander but is less effective at actually winning the battle compared to contemplation. Contemplation will give us the reputation as an eccentric but brilliant commander. We want that reputation. Uly lacks the social skills to be a conventionally beloved commander but the eccentric miracle worker is something his lack of social skills just supplements. It works best for us in the long term to be viewed as the hero who does things in inscrutable ways then pulls a miracle out if his ass.
What makes the bigger legend a general setting up fortifications or locking himself in a library until an hour before the fight and comes out with a plan as brilliants as it is insane that carries the day.
Fanwork##
603 words
Omake for the Head off option which seem unlikely to win.
- - - - -
He could see them milling around upon the valley's floor, hundreds little beetles caparisoned in jeweled armors. A tide of precious stones come to reclaim the lonely Pearl of the Shore. This obscene treasury had escaped in inexorable torrents the Freehold, sweeping farms and settlements clean on its passage. Livid corpses and burned husks littered the roads by which they came. But blood and ashes were not the sole testimony of their advance. Worst was the silence they left in their wake.
The carefree laughs had faded with the cries. The songs, joyous and sad, somber and brights, had perished with the singers. While they would bloom anew elsewhere, immortals as long as there were people to feel and to sing, never again would they leave the lips of those having been condemned to the silence of the grave. At this moment, there was perhaps only him to remember them as they were, for he had learned long ago to listen. Listen in such way that he could hear the sounds of their life beyond death, and against the flows of time and blood spilled.
It was with this melody on the ears that he flew, feets barely grazing the ground, Zao's arrow launched against the Enemies of the Realm, finally closing on its target. No matter Syn's involvement, his path was as clear as it had ever been : this was a scene he had already played, a role he had taken upon himself a life-time ago. Indeed, it was time to take back his old mantle. The stage was set, the actors assembled.
It was not Sesus Ulyssian that rushed toward the Fae Host, nor simply Odyssial ; the End of Stories had come and many tales would reach their climax this day.
He came upon them as he had once done before, riding thunder and lightning, and bearing the gift of nuclear annihilation. As the strongest crumbled around him, falling in the ashes left by the weak, he let his disguise fall, standing still long enough for devastating fear to irrupt in their hearts, only to rain down apocalyptic blows upon the survivors as so many proof of his return. From then on he left them no respite, it was as if fallen stars rained upon them, having interrupted their course in the heaven to plow implacably through their ranks.
Among their numbers, there were a few fit to divert a comet in its course, to those of that lot he had not eliminated in his first targeted strike, he offered a billion chances to prove their mettle, alas none proved able to repeat the deed more than once, and whoever withered the first meteoric strike soon fell under the onslaught that followed. Still, even him could grow tired, that he knew well. Which is why he left the backlash of his blows and those of his adversaries deal with the lesser fae still standing after his coming. Beside, as they pursed his blurring form and struck at the hundreds afterimages in his wake, many felled each others.
When they turned back, fleeing before him as they acted upon the old fear he had dug out from the depths in which it had been buried, he let them go. To spread the word, to spin from the end of so many of their stories his own tale. Once again it had proved itself to be beyond all others. Furthermore, it was consecrated by his return upon the mortals shores, apparently undiminished by the touch of death, as the sole never-ending story.
There would be a song to replace those extinguished, a dirge whose name already fell from the lips of the retreating fae :
"Odyssial".
603 words
Omake for the Head off option which seem unlikely to win.
- - - - -
He could see them milling around upon the valley's floor, hundreds little beetles caparisoned in jeweled armors. A tide of precious stones come to reclaim the lonely Pearl of the Shore. This obscene treasury had escaped in inexorable torrents the Freehold, sweeping farms and settlements clean on its passage. Livid corpses and burned husks littered the roads by which they came. But blood and ashes were not the sole testimony of their advance. Worst was the silence they left in their wake.
The carefree laughs had faded with the cries. The songs, joyous and sad, somber and brights, had perished with the singers. While they would bloom anew elsewhere, immortals as long as there were people to feel and to sing, never again would they leave the lips of those having been condemned to the silence of the grave. At this moment, there was perhaps only him to remember them as they were, for he had learned long ago to listen. Listen in such way that he could hear the sounds of their life beyond death, and against the flows of time and blood spilled.
It was with this melody on the ears that he flew, feets barely grazing the ground, Zao's arrow launched against the Enemies of the Realm, finally closing on its target. No matter Syn's involvement, his path was as clear as it had ever been : this was a scene he had already played, a role he had taken upon himself a life-time ago. Indeed, it was time to take back his old mantle. The stage was set, the actors assembled.
It was not Sesus Ulyssian that rushed toward the Fae Host, nor simply Odyssial ; the End of Stories had come and many tales would reach their climax this day.
He came upon them as he had once done before, riding thunder and lightning, and bearing the gift of nuclear annihilation. As the strongest crumbled around him, falling in the ashes left by the weak, he let his disguise fall, standing still long enough for devastating fear to irrupt in their hearts, only to rain down apocalyptic blows upon the survivors as so many proof of his return. From then on he left them no respite, it was as if fallen stars rained upon them, having interrupted their course in the heaven to plow implacably through their ranks.
Among their numbers, there were a few fit to divert a comet in its course, to those of that lot he had not eliminated in his first targeted strike, he offered a billion chances to prove their mettle, alas none proved able to repeat the deed more than once, and whoever withered the first meteoric strike soon fell under the onslaught that followed. Still, even him could grow tired, that he knew well. Which is why he left the backlash of his blows and those of his adversaries deal with the lesser fae still standing after his coming. Beside, as they pursed his blurring form and struck at the hundreds afterimages in his wake, many felled each others.
When they turned back, fleeing before him as they acted upon the old fear he had dug out from the depths in which it had been buried, he let them go. To spread the word, to spin from the end of so many of their stories his own tale. Once again it had proved itself to be beyond all others. Furthermore, it was consecrated by his return upon the mortals shores, apparently undiminished by the touch of death, as the sole never-ending story.
There would be a song to replace those extinguished, a dirge whose name already fell from the lips of the retreating fae :
"Odyssial".
Last edited:
[X] Contemplation
Rihaku
The Internet
Indeed, Contemplation is leveraging your personal power in both Lore and Battle; Siege only uses War and battle, so it's less optimal from that standpoint.
It will certainly be helped along by such an omake!
That to. My main point however is that we aren't charismatic enough to keep a reputation based off of a typical charisma based leader but we can pull off the eccentric miracle worker. So from my perspective Contemplation is also optimal from a long term reputation perspective.
Rihaku
The Internet
Or, don't bother leading and just yolo everything yourself! Could be possible if you're powerful enough, and stuff gets done quickly!
Hm, some of the Fae have one-shot protection (Sapphire Emptiness Kata, etc). This usually doesn't work if they are crashed, but you don't have any AoE withering Charms. Do you want to target any specific hero unit with your withering attack, ensuring you can one shot them with your AoE attack?
You can choose from the Iron Duke, the Humanoid Behemoth, and the Spider Behemoth.
Hm, some of the Fae have one-shot protection (Sapphire Emptiness Kata, etc). This usually doesn't work if they are crashed, but you don't have any AoE withering Charms. Do you want to target any specific hero unit with your withering attack, ensuring you can one shot them with your AoE attack?
You can choose from the Iron Duke, the Humanoid Behemoth, and the Spider Behemoth.
Guile
Having a really great time right now
Here's a thought. If we follow Contemplation, can we use the Crown of Methis exclusively on the gathered city gods?
Then we won't have to explain ourselves to the DBs, only have to ensure that the gods do not report Odyssial's return to Heaven. Utilizing the combined might of the Terror of Odyssial and a Crown of Methis-backed exhortation, I think we could swing that.
Then we won't have to explain ourselves to the DBs, only have to ensure that the gods do not report Odyssial's return to Heaven. Utilizing the combined might of the Terror of Odyssial and a Crown of Methis-backed exhortation, I think we could swing that.
When choosing between the 3 I would say the Iron Duke. He is the leader so taking him out will reduce group cohesion the most. Also we can't be certain we could one shot the behemoths anyway due to massive amounts of health levels. Also I suspect our monk "allies" will do better against the behemoths than they would against the duke as they are weaker against exalts but take forever to kill.
Rihaku
The Internet
If they're not Celestial deities, they may not know of Odyssial personally, but what would you use the crown for? Just social attacks?
Killing a behemoth in one shot would be a lot more impressive though!
The Duke's probably the most dangerous of the bunch; would be nice if we had Away, and could just assassinate him and route the entire host...
Rihaku
The Internet
But then you wouldn't have all these amazing defensive Evocations, like Saber Mirror Shield, Flash of Steel, and Captain of Ten Thousand Orisons!
Van Ropen
Angry, angry about elves.
Pfft, who needs defense anyways? Odyssial knew what was up.
Rihaku
The Internet
Sometimes that's not possible, though!
Remember "He always finds a way"~!
Rihaku
The Internet
That requires you to actually find a way, though, since you're not playing E10 Odyssial.
Exactly! Odyssial. Not Ulyssian.
Fanwork##
707 words
another version, Behemoth first this time.
- - - - -
A mien of titanic proportion loomed above the marching ranks of the army, as if some mischievous godling had decided to seize one of the valley's poor mortals and breathed into the poor creature blowing it out in order to reach this absurd result. The neck and the trunk bearing this epic visage were no less impressive, a palish flesh riddled of spike stretched upon a torso reminiscent of a barrel, if there was any fit to contain all the alcohol of the land. It was perched upon legs thicker than any of the trees bordering the valley. Each time the creature yawned, it displayed a maw fit to swallow one of them whole. Simply put, the thing was colossal.
Which explained the volume of the shower of blood that splattered against the whole army when it was bisected in two. And the number of casualties its fall caused. Of those not buried under the bulk of the thing, some had the luck or the skill to escape unscathed while most of the others suffered under the acidic effect of its blood, a liquid so corrosive it managed to even reach skin covered by gemstone.
While nothing heralded the death of the Behemoth, a flash and the thunderous noise of steel clashing against steel announced the next scene of the drama. Swifter than any others of his kind, the Duke had spotted the threat, mightier still, he struck a blow as devastating as the one having felled the beast. Blinding radiance shaped in the form of a blade answered, not only diverting the strike, but blowing him off his feets in the resulting backlash.
Hurled through the air, he remained senseless a brief instant.
It was enough for the humongous spider at the rear of the formation of Fae to lose all its legs, the limbs trashing spasmodically as if still guided by the beast and plowing wide trenches in the back of the Host while the eyes covering its middle blinked uselessly at the sky.
When he came back to himself, transitioning almost seamlessly in an aerial move that threw him against his foe, he faced a sword-hand of blitzing rapidity. The two sky-walkers, one riding electrified winds and the other rising upon volutes of smoke, twirled above the Host, not out of reach from the most skilled of its elements but enclosed in a whirlwind of blade and essence so intense that it forbid anyone's approach.
His skills were superlative, so much so that gauging an opponent had become the matter of a split-second consideration for him: this first exchange revealed the truth of the matter immediately. The one he faced was his better, indeed, maybe was he peerless now that the End had come and passed away so long ago, in fact-
Terror and the exalted countenance of the enlightened marked the features of the Duke's as his head fell to ground bellow. None of his troops saw it, for they had a most dreadful sight to behold : the End of Stories had revealed itself, and as he smiled upon them, they knew the old tales to be true. Their scroll had entirely unfurled, the last page of the books recounting the times of their life was about to turn.
As half of them recoiled away and fled, some simply lost the will to stand and waited to die. Others, bolder or perhaps simply decided to go out in a bang rather than a whimper charged straight at their foe as he touched ground.
They were a dozen, all of them coherent enough to strike together. A dozen implement of deaths, fantastical weapons, confounding weaves of power and coruscating waves of energy rose and fell. Alone he stood before the tide. The mountain was fated to be eroded out into nothingness by the rush of the sea, only this one cared nothing for destiny: it was tide that broke upon it.
When the last of them were scattered as so many leaves to the wind or lay broken at his feets, the End did not stop to contemplate his work. For only empty shells remained, husks devoid of meanings. The telling was done and there would be no happy ever after, nor anything beside.
707 words
another version, Behemoth first this time.
- - - - -
A mien of titanic proportion loomed above the marching ranks of the army, as if some mischievous godling had decided to seize one of the valley's poor mortals and breathed into the poor creature blowing it out in order to reach this absurd result. The neck and the trunk bearing this epic visage were no less impressive, a palish flesh riddled of spike stretched upon a torso reminiscent of a barrel, if there was any fit to contain all the alcohol of the land. It was perched upon legs thicker than any of the trees bordering the valley. Each time the creature yawned, it displayed a maw fit to swallow one of them whole. Simply put, the thing was colossal.
Which explained the volume of the shower of blood that splattered against the whole army when it was bisected in two. And the number of casualties its fall caused. Of those not buried under the bulk of the thing, some had the luck or the skill to escape unscathed while most of the others suffered under the acidic effect of its blood, a liquid so corrosive it managed to even reach skin covered by gemstone.
While nothing heralded the death of the Behemoth, a flash and the thunderous noise of steel clashing against steel announced the next scene of the drama. Swifter than any others of his kind, the Duke had spotted the threat, mightier still, he struck a blow as devastating as the one having felled the beast. Blinding radiance shaped in the form of a blade answered, not only diverting the strike, but blowing him off his feets in the resulting backlash.
Hurled through the air, he remained senseless a brief instant.
It was enough for the humongous spider at the rear of the formation of Fae to lose all its legs, the limbs trashing spasmodically as if still guided by the beast and plowing wide trenches in the back of the Host while the eyes covering its middle blinked uselessly at the sky.
When he came back to himself, transitioning almost seamlessly in an aerial move that threw him against his foe, he faced a sword-hand of blitzing rapidity. The two sky-walkers, one riding electrified winds and the other rising upon volutes of smoke, twirled above the Host, not out of reach from the most skilled of its elements but enclosed in a whirlwind of blade and essence so intense that it forbid anyone's approach.
His skills were superlative, so much so that gauging an opponent had become the matter of a split-second consideration for him: this first exchange revealed the truth of the matter immediately. The one he faced was his better, indeed, maybe was he peerless now that the End had come and passed away so long ago, in fact-
Terror and the exalted countenance of the enlightened marked the features of the Duke's as his head fell to ground bellow. None of his troops saw it, for they had a most dreadful sight to behold : the End of Stories had revealed itself, and as he smiled upon them, they knew the old tales to be true. Their scroll had entirely unfurled, the last page of the books recounting the times of their life was about to turn.
As half of them recoiled away and fled, some simply lost the will to stand and waited to die. Others, bolder or perhaps simply decided to go out in a bang rather than a whimper charged straight at their foe as he touched ground.
They were a dozen, all of them coherent enough to strike together. A dozen implement of deaths, fantastical weapons, confounding weaves of power and coruscating waves of energy rose and fell. Alone he stood before the tide. The mountain was fated to be eroded out into nothingness by the rush of the sea, only this one cared nothing for destiny: it was tide that broke upon it.
When the last of them were scattered as so many leaves to the wind or lay broken at his feets, the End did not stop to contemplate his work. For only empty shells remained, husks devoid of meanings. The telling was done and there would be no happy ever after, nor anything beside.
Rihaku
The Internet
Yes, please do decide on whether you want to target the Duke or the Behemoth first! The Duke may be more dangerous to you personally, but this force is dangerous more because of the weight of their numbers than any single unit. The Behemoth is more difficult to one-shot and thus more impressive to kill. But, it's also less important than the Duke, since there are two of 'em.
So you claim but I have yet to see any real factions acting like we are Odyssial yet. Not really even our own.
Van Ropen
Angry, angry about elves.
...who knows? We know Anys doesn't remember, and our friends don't quite understand the scope of what we are claiming/were that comfortable with Ody anyways.
Last edited:
Well, despite the last omake, I would strike the Duke first, I mean, cut the head of the snake and all that.
In fact, there : i doubt the Duke is like that but eh.
Fanwork##
705 words
- - - - - -
Their march would have seemed grandiose to many. They have carved their way through the land, unstoppable as the coming and passing of the seasons, they were akin to a natural event, some cataclysmic disaster one could prepare for, wither maybe but never stop.
Alas, this was this very state of affairs that burdened him so...such monotony ! Torching a few villages and trampling upon understaffed troops became quickly a bore, especially when no worthy opponent showed himself.
If not for that damned Mountain, he never would accepted this posting, a Pearl that city ? What was this paltry thing before the crystal towers of his home, its silks roads and honeyed waters ? No tilting song of bell ringing for him there, only the incessant buzzing of flies feasting on corpses.
Even perching himself atop the should of the humanoid Behemoth they had put at the front of their colones had failed to distract him, even from this vantage point there was nothing worth a look. So plunged in boredom was he that his mind had conjured mirage to distract him, for a time he had believed that some kind of coruscating current had ignited in the heavens, alas that glimpse was but an illusion, sending some of his scouts gifted with flight-he was not so bored has to leave his army utterly unattended- had led to a whole load of nothing.
Since he had come down from his perch a hour ago, he had begun to engage in spars, summoning the most able of his troops to the task. Even engaging them two or three at a time failed to maintain his interest for long.
He had given up altogether now and contented himself by walking at beside his troops, even his staunchest guard had abandoned the idea of tailing him considering his mood-wait, what was that ? It seemed one of the scout he had dispatched a few moment ago had something to report. Ysaraten was it ? Yes, the he had charged to find anything remotely interesting, if not quite that explicitly. He felt excitement bubble in him, mixed with trepidation, that could turn out to be a total disappointment. Once again.
Still, he impatiently waved aside his guards, indicating that he wanted the man to be let through. By a strange quirk of fate, the corpse of Ysaraten achieved to be devoured by vermin when Ulyssian left his disguise fall and Ambition fly. The same kind of hazardous event that led him to listen at the right time to suss out a way to deal this particular blow.
As a whole flank of the army buckled then exploded outward into a rain of falling bodies, many in pieces, when he surged out of the mass of bodies seeking to encircling him in the wake of his strike, his blurring form ignited. Hurling through the panicked soldiers, the crackling ball of lightning he had become bowled over and stunned those it did not leave bisected in twain by the flashing tongue of fire that was Ambition in his hands.
When he impacted one of the many legs of the Behemoth he aimed to fell next, he blazed along its body at such speed that it seemed to have been electrocuted. His blurring and crackling form was akin to an electrical current as it roamed upon it, and the tremors his blows triggered, the usual reaction to such discharge.
Leading the beast on a rampage among the Fae justified the care he took to enrage it without dealing the killing blow for a time. Still once he managed to launch it toward its Humanoid kind and this one tried to seize the spider with his titanic paws, he decided that time had come to end things. Jumping on the back of those hands and rocketing upon those bridges like arms to impact upon face above it and carve through took him seconds. Some -tedious naysayers all of them- would have said him mad to profit of a open maw to bypass the hardened skin of the Behemoth.
As he exploded out of the back of his throat he thought that such considerations where nonsense, there was always a way to be found, no matter how improbable.
- - - -
and I'm done for now, later.
In fact, there : i doubt the Duke is like that but eh.
Fanwork##
705 words
- - - - - -
Their march would have seemed grandiose to many. They have carved their way through the land, unstoppable as the coming and passing of the seasons, they were akin to a natural event, some cataclysmic disaster one could prepare for, wither maybe but never stop.
Alas, this was this very state of affairs that burdened him so...such monotony ! Torching a few villages and trampling upon understaffed troops became quickly a bore, especially when no worthy opponent showed himself.
If not for that damned Mountain, he never would accepted this posting, a Pearl that city ? What was this paltry thing before the crystal towers of his home, its silks roads and honeyed waters ? No tilting song of bell ringing for him there, only the incessant buzzing of flies feasting on corpses.
Even perching himself atop the should of the humanoid Behemoth they had put at the front of their colones had failed to distract him, even from this vantage point there was nothing worth a look. So plunged in boredom was he that his mind had conjured mirage to distract him, for a time he had believed that some kind of coruscating current had ignited in the heavens, alas that glimpse was but an illusion, sending some of his scouts gifted with flight-he was not so bored has to leave his army utterly unattended- had led to a whole load of nothing.
Since he had come down from his perch a hour ago, he had begun to engage in spars, summoning the most able of his troops to the task. Even engaging them two or three at a time failed to maintain his interest for long.
He had given up altogether now and contented himself by walking at beside his troops, even his staunchest guard had abandoned the idea of tailing him considering his mood-wait, what was that ? It seemed one of the scout he had dispatched a few moment ago had something to report. Ysaraten was it ? Yes, the he had charged to find anything remotely interesting, if not quite that explicitly. He felt excitement bubble in him, mixed with trepidation, that could turn out to be a total disappointment. Once again.
Still, he impatiently waved aside his guards, indicating that he wanted the man to be let through. By a strange quirk of fate, the corpse of Ysaraten achieved to be devoured by vermin when Ulyssian left his disguise fall and Ambition fly. The same kind of hazardous event that led him to listen at the right time to suss out a way to deal this particular blow.
As a whole flank of the army buckled then exploded outward into a rain of falling bodies, many in pieces, when he surged out of the mass of bodies seeking to encircling him in the wake of his strike, his blurring form ignited. Hurling through the panicked soldiers, the crackling ball of lightning he had become bowled over and stunned those it did not leave bisected in twain by the flashing tongue of fire that was Ambition in his hands.
When he impacted one of the many legs of the Behemoth he aimed to fell next, he blazed along its body at such speed that it seemed to have been electrocuted. His blurring and crackling form was akin to an electrical current as it roamed upon it, and the tremors his blows triggered, the usual reaction to such discharge.
Leading the beast on a rampage among the Fae justified the care he took to enrage it without dealing the killing blow for a time. Still once he managed to launch it toward its Humanoid kind and this one tried to seize the spider with his titanic paws, he decided that time had come to end things. Jumping on the back of those hands and rocketing upon those bridges like arms to impact upon face above it and carve through took him seconds. Some -tedious naysayers all of them- would have said him mad to profit of a open maw to bypass the hardened skin of the Behemoth.
As he exploded out of the back of his throat he thought that such considerations where nonsense, there was always a way to be found, no matter how improbable.
- - - -
and I'm done for now, later.