Someone is going around killing Primals and that's always a good thing. Right? Riiiiiiiiiiiight?
Raising Heaven- A FFXIV/Exalted Crossover
- Thread starter GreggHL
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Meet our Primaries; Daddy Dragon
GreggHL
Engaging hilarity engine/air intake
- Location
- Daejeon, Republic of Korea
The books open upon the table are an eclectic group. At least five languages, one of them dead. Some bound with gold, some simple leather, some with covers that belong in an art museum with their beauty. All of them are open, spread out on the simple table, borrowed from the library shared between the lot of them.
The cat eared woman with white hair and sun kissed skin continues leafing through one of the tomes in a dead language, sipping from the cup of tea in her free hand. Intent she is on the page, on the mental translations of words that have not been spoken in centuries, that she does not hear the sole other living being in the room until she had walked up next to her and cleared her throat.
The cat woman blinks, looks up, and her expression softens as she goes from the irritation of being disturbed to recognizing a familiar face. The Viera woman standing next to her table twitches one of her ears, glancing at the book and then at her.
"I'm…not even going to pretend to understand what you're reading, Y'shtola," she says, folding her arms and cocking a pale eyebrow, "But I know you've been reading for the last five hours. You need more than tea."
Y'shtola Ruul, Archon and sorcerer with the Scions of the Seventh Dawn, sighs and nods. "I do. I usually do not get so consumed by the pursuit of knowledge. We try to leave that to Urianger." She finishes her tea with a single gulp, knowing it has gone cold. "I was looking for some clue regarding our current mystery regarding the Primals."
Ragnaborn Muscadet, new immigrant to Eorzea, new member of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn, and somehow chosen of the Mother Crystal, picks up a book and examines it. "Alphabets? Or does it look like that-"
"No, it's an alphabet," Y'shtola says, "The Echo does not translate written word. Given, that is a book written in a language that has not been spoken for three centuries."
The sorcerer narrows her eyes. As if actual gears are turning in her head, she thinks, considers the very tall woman in front of her.
"Take a seat, Ragnaborn."
She gestures to the seat across from her, and her companion sits. "I need you to serve as my rubber duck. So, what do you know about the current situation regarding the Primals?"
The viera considers her answer. Goes for honesty and maybe a bit of snark. "They're dead, so absolutely nothing."
Y'shtola nods, as she appreciates the honesty. "So, we have a current conundrum, as someone is killing Primals. And, we currently believe the people responsible are all part of the same group."
Ragnaborn has her hand raised.
"Yes?" Y'shtola asks. She wishes she had some glasses on to adjust like a schoolmarm.
"Why are we concerned about someone killing Primals? Isn't that a good thing, especially if everyone involved is swearing off summoning afterwards?"
"You mean the lack of tempering."
The viera nods. Her ears twitch, and she taps her fingers on the table. "Yeah, Alphinaud said that was very odd."
"Alphinaud was understating that. Primals by their nature temper those that summon them to be devoted to summoning them. To feed them more aether. But the summoners at the sites you investigated have sworn off…" Y'shtola pinches the bridge of her nose. "Right, so, the Amalj'aa summoned Ifrit in the Bowl of Embers. Before we can arrive, a young man clad in golden armor appears and cuts Ifrit in half-vertically- with a sword of glowing sunlight."
"I remember that," Ragnaborn says with a sigh, "I wasn't there, but Gorge- my trainer- found out about it and thinks he was a Warrior. Or, insists he was."
Y'shtola nods. "The second was when the Kobolds summoned Titan. We still don't have the most accurate picture of what happened, just that there was some sort of person, cloaked in darkness, accompanied by a woman with, and quoting the reports 'hair like red flame', and Titan was apparently defeated by some sort of giant automaton."
She shrugs. "The last one is most recent. The Ixal summoned Garuda, and you were there when we investigated the site, correct?"
"The glowing crater, yes."
"Which was apparently the work of the same red haired woman- as I believe the 'hair like red flame' means she is a redhead. According to witness statements, she shouted words in a language I do not recognize, and cast a spell which destroyed Garuda and created the crater."
Y'shtola takes out an official looking note and hands it to Ragnaborn. "Thankfully, Arenvald was there. He wrote down what he could, but in all honesty it was chaos. I still can't figure what the phrase means, but I could use an extra set of eyes."
The viera looks at the note. She cocks a white eyebrow, reading it again. "He was in a hurry, yeah." She traces along the words with her eyes. Cocks her head, and nods.
"What's a liger?"
"It's a large wild cat," Y'shtola mutters, "Known for its magical powers. A liger is the result of mating a male lion and female tiger. Viridian means green." She smirks. "You were about to ask that, too."
"Fair," Ragnaborn says, "Not sure how Ligers are used in spells that make a thirty yalm crater. Also something about a King of Kings. Don't the Ishgardians-"
"Worship King Thordan, yes. So, she may be Ishgardian. Or Dravanian."
The viera moans. It is not a sensual or pleasant moan. "That's a cowpie I don't want to step into anytime soon."
"Even if it means working with Ser Haurchefant again?" Y'shtola bats her eyelids. Ragnaborn purses her lips.
"Hush, you."
They share a laugh. "Right. So that's what we know so far," Y'shtola says with a sigh, "It's still a mystery, and one we need to solve."
"Again, killing Primals, keeping people from summoning Primals." Ragnaborn shrugs. "I'm guessing the Scions want to track these people down. As allies, right?"
"I can presume allies, unless they turn out to have some sort of sinister agenda." Y'shtola shrugs. Then there is the base, echoing rumbling. She looks down and sighs. "I need to eat. We can answer these questions later. Though it remains to be seen what their next move is to be."
The viera nods, arms folded. "Well, outside of killing Primals, what can they do?"
The lake is, according to the people of Eorzea, infamous. There is an element of salvation regarding the lake- where years ago, the Empire sent a mighty fleet to subjugate the nations of Eorzea, only for it to be laid low by the Father of Dragons, the Greatest of the Great Wyrms.
That Midgardsormr, the Serpent, emerged, his kin swatting down the airships of Garlemald while the Fatherwyrm wrapped himself around the mightiest airship ever created- the Agrius- and sacrificed himself to bring it low.
Of course, a glance at the immense corpse of the dragon tells her he is not dead-dead in a way that keeps her from communicating with him. Sky has been taking care of the soldiers still left in the hulk of the airship, giving her a more or less clear path to the top.
On the outside of the hull, at the very top, where the dried out face of the great wyrm stares at her. She approaches, side-eyeing the two dead dragons on either side of the platform, and looks up. Her red hair blows faintly in the wind, and she plants her staff next to her. Upon releasing it, the staff continues to stand.
She clears her throat and bows respectfully.
"Great Midgardsormr, I stand in your presence and request an audience."
She feels the faint rumbling. Beneath her feet, between her ears, within her soul. The immense, rictus visage glows the faintest blue- the sort only one such as she can see.
I have been watching you, shining one. I see thou art chosen, but not by Hydaelin. I see thou art not from this star.
"Indeed, Great Midgardsormr. I, and my companions, are not from this star. I could not tell you how we arrived here, for we do not yet understand."
A low, scratchy laugh. Not throaty, not sinister. Just, amused.
Thou art not like other travelers from distant stars. Should one not be aware of your power, it would be fair to mistake you for a Hyur. I will listen, Chosen of Distant Stars. What dost thou wish?
"Information, really. I sought you out because you are the closest thing to an elemental or god I could find in these parts."
But hast thou not killed gods in thy time here?
She shakes her head. "No. Those weren't gods, those were closer to self-perpetuating magical constructs from sorcerous rituals."
She shrugs. "The fact that they get worshipped as gods doesn't make them gods. I'm still trying to figure out a use for the ritual that wasn't just-" She waggles her hand. "Serve as object lessons on why you don't use a booby trapped ritual.'"
Another low, scratchy laugh. The rictus grin of the corpse-dragon is a little wider.
I am impressed with thee, Chosen. Dost thou wish for power or knowledge?
She nods, smiling. "Oh, knowledge. About this star, about why almost everyone seems to have awakened essence, about why this world seems to be teetering all the bloody time-"
"Sorcerer, I believe we have pacified the population of the crashed ship."
Entering from the left, walking onto the platform is a being cloaked in shadow, hidden by the pretty pink parasol. The only hint of gender is the voice- the silken voice of the night. Peeking out from the shadow of the parasol, the ends of a proportional rat's tail flicks side to side.
Flecks of crystal crash and break off as the eyes of the corpse dragon go wide. The voice goes silent for long moments. Eventually, the Father of Dragons speaks.
I shall answer any questions thou hast. But I must know- who art thou?
The woman curtsies. "Ah, yes. I am Ebeli, Sorcerer of the Adamant Circle, Twilight Caste-"
She lights the mark upon her brow, of the setting sun.
"-and Solar Exalted."
The cat eared woman with white hair and sun kissed skin continues leafing through one of the tomes in a dead language, sipping from the cup of tea in her free hand. Intent she is on the page, on the mental translations of words that have not been spoken in centuries, that she does not hear the sole other living being in the room until she had walked up next to her and cleared her throat.
The cat woman blinks, looks up, and her expression softens as she goes from the irritation of being disturbed to recognizing a familiar face. The Viera woman standing next to her table twitches one of her ears, glancing at the book and then at her.
"I'm…not even going to pretend to understand what you're reading, Y'shtola," she says, folding her arms and cocking a pale eyebrow, "But I know you've been reading for the last five hours. You need more than tea."
Y'shtola Ruul, Archon and sorcerer with the Scions of the Seventh Dawn, sighs and nods. "I do. I usually do not get so consumed by the pursuit of knowledge. We try to leave that to Urianger." She finishes her tea with a single gulp, knowing it has gone cold. "I was looking for some clue regarding our current mystery regarding the Primals."
Ragnaborn Muscadet, new immigrant to Eorzea, new member of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn, and somehow chosen of the Mother Crystal, picks up a book and examines it. "Alphabets? Or does it look like that-"
"No, it's an alphabet," Y'shtola says, "The Echo does not translate written word. Given, that is a book written in a language that has not been spoken for three centuries."
The sorcerer narrows her eyes. As if actual gears are turning in her head, she thinks, considers the very tall woman in front of her.
"Take a seat, Ragnaborn."
She gestures to the seat across from her, and her companion sits. "I need you to serve as my rubber duck. So, what do you know about the current situation regarding the Primals?"
The viera considers her answer. Goes for honesty and maybe a bit of snark. "They're dead, so absolutely nothing."
Y'shtola nods, as she appreciates the honesty. "So, we have a current conundrum, as someone is killing Primals. And, we currently believe the people responsible are all part of the same group."
Ragnaborn has her hand raised.
"Yes?" Y'shtola asks. She wishes she had some glasses on to adjust like a schoolmarm.
"Why are we concerned about someone killing Primals? Isn't that a good thing, especially if everyone involved is swearing off summoning afterwards?"
"You mean the lack of tempering."
The viera nods. Her ears twitch, and she taps her fingers on the table. "Yeah, Alphinaud said that was very odd."
"Alphinaud was understating that. Primals by their nature temper those that summon them to be devoted to summoning them. To feed them more aether. But the summoners at the sites you investigated have sworn off…" Y'shtola pinches the bridge of her nose. "Right, so, the Amalj'aa summoned Ifrit in the Bowl of Embers. Before we can arrive, a young man clad in golden armor appears and cuts Ifrit in half-vertically- with a sword of glowing sunlight."
"I remember that," Ragnaborn says with a sigh, "I wasn't there, but Gorge- my trainer- found out about it and thinks he was a Warrior. Or, insists he was."
Y'shtola nods. "The second was when the Kobolds summoned Titan. We still don't have the most accurate picture of what happened, just that there was some sort of person, cloaked in darkness, accompanied by a woman with, and quoting the reports 'hair like red flame', and Titan was apparently defeated by some sort of giant automaton."
She shrugs. "The last one is most recent. The Ixal summoned Garuda, and you were there when we investigated the site, correct?"
"The glowing crater, yes."
"Which was apparently the work of the same red haired woman- as I believe the 'hair like red flame' means she is a redhead. According to witness statements, she shouted words in a language I do not recognize, and cast a spell which destroyed Garuda and created the crater."
Y'shtola takes out an official looking note and hands it to Ragnaborn. "Thankfully, Arenvald was there. He wrote down what he could, but in all honesty it was chaos. I still can't figure what the phrase means, but I could use an extra set of eyes."
The viera looks at the note. She cocks a white eyebrow, reading it again. "He was in a hurry, yeah." She traces along the words with her eyes. Cocks her head, and nods.
"What's a liger?"
"It's a large wild cat," Y'shtola mutters, "Known for its magical powers. A liger is the result of mating a male lion and female tiger. Viridian means green." She smirks. "You were about to ask that, too."
"Fair," Ragnaborn says, "Not sure how Ligers are used in spells that make a thirty yalm crater. Also something about a King of Kings. Don't the Ishgardians-"
"Worship King Thordan, yes. So, she may be Ishgardian. Or Dravanian."
The viera moans. It is not a sensual or pleasant moan. "That's a cowpie I don't want to step into anytime soon."
"Even if it means working with Ser Haurchefant again?" Y'shtola bats her eyelids. Ragnaborn purses her lips.
"Hush, you."
They share a laugh. "Right. So that's what we know so far," Y'shtola says with a sigh, "It's still a mystery, and one we need to solve."
"Again, killing Primals, keeping people from summoning Primals." Ragnaborn shrugs. "I'm guessing the Scions want to track these people down. As allies, right?"
"I can presume allies, unless they turn out to have some sort of sinister agenda." Y'shtola shrugs. Then there is the base, echoing rumbling. She looks down and sighs. "I need to eat. We can answer these questions later. Though it remains to be seen what their next move is to be."
The viera nods, arms folded. "Well, outside of killing Primals, what can they do?"
The lake is, according to the people of Eorzea, infamous. There is an element of salvation regarding the lake- where years ago, the Empire sent a mighty fleet to subjugate the nations of Eorzea, only for it to be laid low by the Father of Dragons, the Greatest of the Great Wyrms.
That Midgardsormr, the Serpent, emerged, his kin swatting down the airships of Garlemald while the Fatherwyrm wrapped himself around the mightiest airship ever created- the Agrius- and sacrificed himself to bring it low.
Of course, a glance at the immense corpse of the dragon tells her he is not dead-dead in a way that keeps her from communicating with him. Sky has been taking care of the soldiers still left in the hulk of the airship, giving her a more or less clear path to the top.
On the outside of the hull, at the very top, where the dried out face of the great wyrm stares at her. She approaches, side-eyeing the two dead dragons on either side of the platform, and looks up. Her red hair blows faintly in the wind, and she plants her staff next to her. Upon releasing it, the staff continues to stand.
She clears her throat and bows respectfully.
"Great Midgardsormr, I stand in your presence and request an audience."
She feels the faint rumbling. Beneath her feet, between her ears, within her soul. The immense, rictus visage glows the faintest blue- the sort only one such as she can see.
I have been watching you, shining one. I see thou art chosen, but not by Hydaelin. I see thou art not from this star.
"Indeed, Great Midgardsormr. I, and my companions, are not from this star. I could not tell you how we arrived here, for we do not yet understand."
A low, scratchy laugh. Not throaty, not sinister. Just, amused.
Thou art not like other travelers from distant stars. Should one not be aware of your power, it would be fair to mistake you for a Hyur. I will listen, Chosen of Distant Stars. What dost thou wish?
"Information, really. I sought you out because you are the closest thing to an elemental or god I could find in these parts."
But hast thou not killed gods in thy time here?
She shakes her head. "No. Those weren't gods, those were closer to self-perpetuating magical constructs from sorcerous rituals."
She shrugs. "The fact that they get worshipped as gods doesn't make them gods. I'm still trying to figure out a use for the ritual that wasn't just-" She waggles her hand. "Serve as object lessons on why you don't use a booby trapped ritual.'"
Another low, scratchy laugh. The rictus grin of the corpse-dragon is a little wider.
I am impressed with thee, Chosen. Dost thou wish for power or knowledge?
She nods, smiling. "Oh, knowledge. About this star, about why almost everyone seems to have awakened essence, about why this world seems to be teetering all the bloody time-"
"Sorcerer, I believe we have pacified the population of the crashed ship."
Entering from the left, walking onto the platform is a being cloaked in shadow, hidden by the pretty pink parasol. The only hint of gender is the voice- the silken voice of the night. Peeking out from the shadow of the parasol, the ends of a proportional rat's tail flicks side to side.
Flecks of crystal crash and break off as the eyes of the corpse dragon go wide. The voice goes silent for long moments. Eventually, the Father of Dragons speaks.
I shall answer any questions thou hast. But I must know- who art thou?
The woman curtsies. "Ah, yes. I am Ebeli, Sorcerer of the Adamant Circle, Twilight Caste-"
She lights the mark upon her brow, of the setting sun.
"-and Solar Exalted."
Raising Heaven
-
Chapter 1:
There Is No Cause For Alarm
Well about 90% of people can use magic, so that's something.
- Location
- Australia
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Pretty sure it's too late, and the various tribes have already begun switching over their targets of worship.
- Location
- Queensland, Australia
Fortunately, I believe said contingencies include things like 'evacuate that multiverse and ensure it and the one containing Exalted are locked up together and nothing can escape from the two. Rather than something more impossible like 'convince the tribes that the new safer, non-Tempering Primals that actually try to fix what they worship them for is a bad idea'.
- Location
- Australia
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Given how Tempering works, and the amount of essence exalts throw around, what makes you think the Beast Tribes weren't Tempered to new gods?
GreggHL
Engaging hilarity engine/air intake
- Location
- Daejeon, Republic of Korea
To be fair, as good Solars they'd initiate them into a cult to the Unconquered Sun, and now Hydaelin has a proper Sun God.
- Location
- Australia
- Pronouns
- She/Her
You're doing a great job of filling me with terror and general unease there
Winged One
Not the Simurgh
- Location
- definitely the ground
- Pronouns
- They/Them/It
What, did he get isekei'd too? Surely they impressed on the locals that the real thing would not approve of making a Primal in his image, right?
GreggHL
Engaging hilarity engine/air intake
- Location
- Daejeon, Republic of Korea
I mean, prayer's prayer, and the metaphysics in Hydraelin doesn't work the same as Creation, so it'd be a whole Whoopsy Doodle now the Sun is a Raid Boss.
- Location
- Australia
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Tempered don't care about little details like logic. Their souls are so unbalanced they can't help but want to bring their god into the world. So, if Solar essence interacts with aether and souls in this world in that way, Ebeli is going to have a hilarious 'Oh for fucks sake!' moment later
frozenchicken
Does not have a custom title.
The exalts are gonna hear about Zodiark and go "So we can kill this sneaky bastard deity of darkness and he WON'T turn into an even worse undead Neverborn? Sign me up!"
The only awkward part will be when one of them is midway through stabbing it and accidentally calls the Ascian God TED.
The only awkward part will be when one of them is midway through stabbing it and accidentally calls the Ascian God TED.
Approaching Revenant's Toll; Mundane Translation
GreggHL
Engaging hilarity engine/air intake
- Location
- Daejeon, Republic of Korea
The crystals grow along the cliffsides, some sprouting from the ground itself. Indeed, the crystals dominate the horizon, from the wild growths in the distance to the immense tower of blue crystal in the distance. The tower itself serves as one of the two features dominating the landscape, along with the massive coil of the departed Father of Dragons.
"Revenant's Toll was founded in the aftermath of the Battle of Silvertear Skies, and was rebuilt into the town it now is when the original Aetheryte Crystal was destroyed during the Seventh Umbral Calamity."
It is sometimes odd to hear someone that young concisely explain Eorzean History. The young elezen rides alongside her on his yellow chocobo, which, like himself, is smaller than her own black chocobo. Which makes sense, as her chocobo is also carrying her plate armor and her axe.
"So Mor Dhona doesn't belong to any nation?" Ragna turns to the youth. She will admit, she's genuinely interested. Their chocobos are not, and keep trotting along the worn path towards the town.
"Correct. Ishgard does provide caravans of supplies due to it being strategically located to the south, and a convenient southern cut off from the Dravanian Horde if need be."
The viera nods. "And it's between the major powers," she says, "And we got invited here because our mystery Primal slayers have set up shop here. They asked for me, and you're here because you're a representative of the Scions, but what about you?"
She looks to her other side, and at the hooded elezen with far too complicated glasses. Or goggles. Which do something.
"Mistress Minfilia didst ask me to accompany thee, as mine own knowledge couldst be used to understand our mysteries."
Speaking of mysteries, as the three approach Revenant's Toll, they see the figure approaching. At first glance, they believe it to be a bear. A terribly twisted and mutated bear. As it approaches, they refine that guess to some sort of behemoth. A smaller behemoth, still big enough to ride. No horns, though.
The creature approaches, walking on its knuckles and feet, and dressed in what appears to be a gold trimmed cape and brass body armor. Its reddish black hair is slicked back, styled, and its blood hued eyes are focused on them. Smartly, Ragna grips her axe, holding it in one hand.
The behemoth stops, and stands straight up. "Sorry for the fright, I was running late," he says in a gravelly, gruff voice, "Welcome to Revenant's Toll. Present yourselves, please."
The boy blinks. "Alphinaud Leveilleur, representing the Scions of the Seventh Dawn."
The viera keeps a firm grip on her axe. "Ragnaborn Muscadet. I was asked for by name."
The older elezen stares for a moment. "Urianger Augurelt. Also representing the Scions of the Seventh Dawn."
The beast grunts and nods. He checks a list that he pulls out of his chestpiece. "Checks out. I'm Hans, the Sorcerer's Seneschal. Follow me, please. They're expecting you."
He drops down onto all fours again and beings walking back towards the town. The three follow, their chocobos otherwise oblivious to the fact that they're following something that normally would be at the end point of a dungeon. Urianger urges his chocobo onward to trot beside Hans and clears his throat.
"Your goggles do something, right?" Hans asks.
"Indeed. They giveth me insight into the aetheric composition of that whichst I see. At risk of being rude, might I ask thee something?"
"You mean what am I?"
Urianger nods. Hans chuckles. "I'm an Erymanthoi," Hans responds, "We also get called Blood Apes. The Sorcerer will explain. She will be happy to."
Urianger turns to them, and launches into a poetic explanation of what his goggles do see. It is long, it is poetic, it is descriptive, and it is not offensive to Hans. Alphinaud looks to Ragna with pleading eyes, as if looking for succor, for clarity, for explanation.
"He's similar to a magical construct," Ragna clarifies. Among the wondrous uses of the Echo is understanding what Urianger is saying.
Ragna notes that she's still holding her axe. She holsters it on her chocobo's side and continues on. Cresting the road, they come into full view of the town of Revenant's Toll. Well, Revenant's Toll and the newest addition to it.
The three of them are silent. Eyes track up, then down, at the thing now parked on the edge of the town, and easily big enough to dominate the horizon. Alphinaud is the one to break the silence.
"That's the Agrius."
Ragna hums in agreement.
"Revenant's Toll was founded in the aftermath of the Battle of Silvertear Skies, and was rebuilt into the town it now is when the original Aetheryte Crystal was destroyed during the Seventh Umbral Calamity."
It is sometimes odd to hear someone that young concisely explain Eorzean History. The young elezen rides alongside her on his yellow chocobo, which, like himself, is smaller than her own black chocobo. Which makes sense, as her chocobo is also carrying her plate armor and her axe.
"So Mor Dhona doesn't belong to any nation?" Ragna turns to the youth. She will admit, she's genuinely interested. Their chocobos are not, and keep trotting along the worn path towards the town.
"Correct. Ishgard does provide caravans of supplies due to it being strategically located to the south, and a convenient southern cut off from the Dravanian Horde if need be."
The viera nods. "And it's between the major powers," she says, "And we got invited here because our mystery Primal slayers have set up shop here. They asked for me, and you're here because you're a representative of the Scions, but what about you?"
She looks to her other side, and at the hooded elezen with far too complicated glasses. Or goggles. Which do something.
"Mistress Minfilia didst ask me to accompany thee, as mine own knowledge couldst be used to understand our mysteries."
Speaking of mysteries, as the three approach Revenant's Toll, they see the figure approaching. At first glance, they believe it to be a bear. A terribly twisted and mutated bear. As it approaches, they refine that guess to some sort of behemoth. A smaller behemoth, still big enough to ride. No horns, though.
The creature approaches, walking on its knuckles and feet, and dressed in what appears to be a gold trimmed cape and brass body armor. Its reddish black hair is slicked back, styled, and its blood hued eyes are focused on them. Smartly, Ragna grips her axe, holding it in one hand.
The behemoth stops, and stands straight up. "Sorry for the fright, I was running late," he says in a gravelly, gruff voice, "Welcome to Revenant's Toll. Present yourselves, please."
The boy blinks. "Alphinaud Leveilleur, representing the Scions of the Seventh Dawn."
The viera keeps a firm grip on her axe. "Ragnaborn Muscadet. I was asked for by name."
The older elezen stares for a moment. "Urianger Augurelt. Also representing the Scions of the Seventh Dawn."
The beast grunts and nods. He checks a list that he pulls out of his chestpiece. "Checks out. I'm Hans, the Sorcerer's Seneschal. Follow me, please. They're expecting you."
He drops down onto all fours again and beings walking back towards the town. The three follow, their chocobos otherwise oblivious to the fact that they're following something that normally would be at the end point of a dungeon. Urianger urges his chocobo onward to trot beside Hans and clears his throat.
"Your goggles do something, right?" Hans asks.
"Indeed. They giveth me insight into the aetheric composition of that whichst I see. At risk of being rude, might I ask thee something?"
"You mean what am I?"
Urianger nods. Hans chuckles. "I'm an Erymanthoi," Hans responds, "We also get called Blood Apes. The Sorcerer will explain. She will be happy to."
Urianger turns to them, and launches into a poetic explanation of what his goggles do see. It is long, it is poetic, it is descriptive, and it is not offensive to Hans. Alphinaud looks to Ragna with pleading eyes, as if looking for succor, for clarity, for explanation.
"He's similar to a magical construct," Ragna clarifies. Among the wondrous uses of the Echo is understanding what Urianger is saying.
Ragna notes that she's still holding her axe. She holsters it on her chocobo's side and continues on. Cresting the road, they come into full view of the town of Revenant's Toll. Well, Revenant's Toll and the newest addition to it.
The three of them are silent. Eyes track up, then down, at the thing now parked on the edge of the town, and easily big enough to dominate the horizon. Alphinaud is the one to break the silence.
"That's the Agrius."
Ragna hums in agreement.
Winged One
Not the Simurgh
- Location
- definitely the ground
- Pronouns
- They/Them/It
An interesting dodge for the technobabble problem.
GreggHL
Engaging hilarity engine/air intake
- Location
- Daejeon, Republic of Korea
A mundane use for the Echo is understanding what the hell Urianger is saying.An interesting dodge for the technobabble problem.
- Location
- Australia
- Pronouns
- She/Her
The echo is a path to many abilities, some considered to be... Unnatural.
Revenant's Toll; Meeting of the Minds
GreggHL
Engaging hilarity engine/air intake
- Location
- Daejeon, Republic of Korea
At second glance, they also see the holes in the Agrius- even more than the last official report on the dreadnought's resting position. Larger holes with workers making them even larger. The Dreadnought was moved, yes, but it is also being disassembled. By people who are not Imperials.
"Yeah, we moved that here a week ago," Hans explains, "The Sorcerer's been keen on studying magitech."
They walk through the paved roads of Revenant's Toll. Some of them had been here before, some have not. Stone buildings rising around them, the glowing Aetheryte crystal at the town square, and adventurers, journeymen, craftsmen selling their wares and caravans filling the streets.
Hans leads them to a squat, two story building with a golden filigree through its cracks. The door opens for him as the three dismount their chocobos, and he leads them inside.
"-but sadly, the mirrors and volcano only got us melted gold, so it's definitely a property of the Sun not being the same as our Sun," a female voice explains, over the sound of roaring turbines, "So we're going to have to figure out other fuel sources and other materials."
Hans leads them into a well lit, definitely gold accented room. One filled with devices which only one of their number can identify. Monitors of all types, waldos and switches, wires connecting with varied magitech devices. Such as a leg of a magitek colossus just sitting there.
And the white ride armor that is currently hovering above the ground, held aloft by magitech turbines.
"[Sorcerer,]" Hans says, "[The Scions and the Warrior of Light are here.]" Ragnaborn blinks at the unfamiliar tongue, while Urianger tilts his head and Alphinaud frowns in thought.
The ride armor lands. The pilot of it, a young man with blonde hair and green eyes, climbs out. Leaning on a console is a woman with red hair, in a long green dress with gold edging. She turns to Hans with a smile.
"Welcome to Revenant's Toll! I'm Ebeli, this is Sky, and over in the corner is-"
"Until we are allies, please address me as That Which Calls to the Shadows."
Urianger looks to the darkened corner of the workshop. He stares for a moment, then shuffles to the side to put Ragna between himself and what is there. Ragna cocks an eyebrow and turns back to the redhead. Alphinaud slightly raises an eyebrow at the…less than diplomatic move, but otherwise holds from comment. It's too dark in said corner for him to make anything out with his naked eyes.
"Right," Ebeli says, clapping her hands, "I invited you here to talk, because as I understand it the Scions of the Seventh Dawn are a group of warrior scholars who work to keep the world from ending."
Urianger nods. "That is correct," Alphinaud responds, "And to clarify, you are the ones who have been destroying primals and rehabilitating their followers, correct?"
Ebeli nods. Sky rubs the back of his neck. "Admittedly, the first one wasn't on purpose, it's more I ended up there."
"But," Ebeli adds, "We have been, because observation has confirmed that Primals are a thing that needs to be taken care of. And we're working without a full amount of information."
Ragna nods. "So I can see why you've invited us, but have you gone to Gridania or someplace with a library? I mean, the Aetheryte crystal's right there." She jams her thumb in the direction of the central plaza.
Ebeli blinks. Sky glances between the redhead and the viera.
"We have a lot to talk about," Ebeli says, and turns to Hans, "[Hans, can you get us a table, some chairs, and some tea?]"
"I'll take black tea," Ragna adds.
Ebeli nods, turns to the others, then freezes for a heartbeat before her head snaps back to the viera. "How did you just understand [Old Realm?]" the latter two words uttered in the same tongue as her previous sentence.
Ragna smirks for a beat, then purses her lips. "[It's called the Echo, and I'll explain.]"
"Yeah, we moved that here a week ago," Hans explains, "The Sorcerer's been keen on studying magitech."
They walk through the paved roads of Revenant's Toll. Some of them had been here before, some have not. Stone buildings rising around them, the glowing Aetheryte crystal at the town square, and adventurers, journeymen, craftsmen selling their wares and caravans filling the streets.
Hans leads them to a squat, two story building with a golden filigree through its cracks. The door opens for him as the three dismount their chocobos, and he leads them inside.
"-but sadly, the mirrors and volcano only got us melted gold, so it's definitely a property of the Sun not being the same as our Sun," a female voice explains, over the sound of roaring turbines, "So we're going to have to figure out other fuel sources and other materials."
Hans leads them into a well lit, definitely gold accented room. One filled with devices which only one of their number can identify. Monitors of all types, waldos and switches, wires connecting with varied magitech devices. Such as a leg of a magitek colossus just sitting there.
And the white ride armor that is currently hovering above the ground, held aloft by magitech turbines.
"[Sorcerer,]" Hans says, "[The Scions and the Warrior of Light are here.]" Ragnaborn blinks at the unfamiliar tongue, while Urianger tilts his head and Alphinaud frowns in thought.
The ride armor lands. The pilot of it, a young man with blonde hair and green eyes, climbs out. Leaning on a console is a woman with red hair, in a long green dress with gold edging. She turns to Hans with a smile.
"Welcome to Revenant's Toll! I'm Ebeli, this is Sky, and over in the corner is-"
"Until we are allies, please address me as That Which Calls to the Shadows."
Urianger looks to the darkened corner of the workshop. He stares for a moment, then shuffles to the side to put Ragna between himself and what is there. Ragna cocks an eyebrow and turns back to the redhead. Alphinaud slightly raises an eyebrow at the…less than diplomatic move, but otherwise holds from comment. It's too dark in said corner for him to make anything out with his naked eyes.
"Right," Ebeli says, clapping her hands, "I invited you here to talk, because as I understand it the Scions of the Seventh Dawn are a group of warrior scholars who work to keep the world from ending."
Urianger nods. "That is correct," Alphinaud responds, "And to clarify, you are the ones who have been destroying primals and rehabilitating their followers, correct?"
Ebeli nods. Sky rubs the back of his neck. "Admittedly, the first one wasn't on purpose, it's more I ended up there."
"But," Ebeli adds, "We have been, because observation has confirmed that Primals are a thing that needs to be taken care of. And we're working without a full amount of information."
Ragna nods. "So I can see why you've invited us, but have you gone to Gridania or someplace with a library? I mean, the Aetheryte crystal's right there." She jams her thumb in the direction of the central plaza.
Ebeli blinks. Sky glances between the redhead and the viera.
"We have a lot to talk about," Ebeli says, and turns to Hans, "[Hans, can you get us a table, some chairs, and some tea?]"
"I'll take black tea," Ragna adds.
Ebeli nods, turns to the others, then freezes for a heartbeat before her head snaps back to the viera. "How did you just understand [Old Realm?]" the latter two words uttered in the same tongue as her previous sentence.
Ragna smirks for a beat, then purses her lips. "[It's called the Echo, and I'll explain.]"
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- Location
- SoCal, USA
Classic Exalt, thinking you know everything about how a different Realm operates. I'm very excited to see more of this!
Dramatis Personnae
GreggHL
Engaging hilarity engine/air intake
- Location
- Daejeon, Republic of Korea
Dramatis Personae (of characters not canon in FFXIV)
Ragnaborn Muscadet, the Chosen of Hydaelin, the Warrior of Light, yadda yadda. A six fulm tall Viera carrying an axe bigger than her, Ragna is relatively new to Eorzea and the Scions, unless she was one of the Warriors of Light at Cartineau. If she was, she doesn't remember.
She is a Warrior, but has dabbled in other disciplines, but mainly enjoys a) carrying a massive axe, and b) protecting others. When not charging into dungeons or trying to figure out what Urianger is saying, she has a habit of doing any job she can find on a job board, and any quest someone is willing to hand to her. So far this has netted her an appreciable amount of gil, a damn nice Chocobo, and lots of networking.
Is pretty sure she's in love with Y'shtola, marking her as a woman of taste, but would not kick Haurchefant out of bed.
Also, as the ears and name indicate, she is a viera.
Leaping Sky, Chosen of the Unconquered Sun, Bronze Tiger, Dawn Caste, Superhero. Sky has been Ebeli's sidekick and partner almost as long as he's been Exalted. They've been working together for twenty years, are obviously a couple, and have long worked through that awkward 'will they or won't they' phase due to varied adventures and more than one evil wedding put on by an Infernal.
Sky wields an artifact sword named Sky Splitter, which combined with his own melee abilities, makes him a holy (literally) terror on a battlefield. On the other hand, he has no real want or need to become a king, so leads the big plans to others and enjoys sidequesting.
His flawed virtue is Temperance, and as thus tends to think like a JRPG protagonist. Has not yet used the Aetheryte because he just flies everywhere.
Ebeli, Chosen of the Unconquered Sun, Copper Spider, Twilight Caste, 5-Star reviews on Yelp in Hell. Ebeli is a former Dynast who exalted the wrong splat, and quickly fell down the rabbit hole of using demons to solve her problems. Then again, she does take after her Aunt Mnemon, and it's worked for her so far. Ebeli has a medium sized army of first circle demons with her, a single third circle demon, and has not realized that due to Hydaelin being outside of Creation she can summon Third Circle Demons whenever she wants, and we are that long away from it being Ligier O'Clock.
As an Adamant Circle Sorcerer, she has many tools at her disposal that can be seen through your eyelids, and wields a staff that both allows her to more easily summon demons, and makes her persuasive with them. On the other hand, she treats her demons like people, not as tools, and thus has many denizens of Hell willing to work with her.
Her flawed virtue is Conviction, and no one notices when she limit breaks. Has not yet used the Aetheryte because she's been busy understanding this star's magitek.
Hans, Erymanthoi, Blood Ape, Sorcerer, and Dapper Attendant has worked for Ebeli for twenty years as her second. He is a Blood Ape, meaning he needs wide doorways and eats meat, and hates cats. Or at least used to until he initiated into sorcery and sacrificed his bloodlust. He is Ebeli's Seneschal, second, and chief defender.
He's also big enough to saddle and ride, and Ragna may want to find out where she can get an Erymanthoi as a mount.
That Which Calls to the Shadows, is a Third Circle Demon, and anyone with Aether goggles has an ohshit moment when they see her. Mainly because they haven't seen that level of sheer power for a long time, such as, say, Bahamut.
She is also known as Erembour, Seventh Soul of the Ebon Dragon, the Dancer in Darkness and Queen of the Shadow Beneath the Dragon. She's bound to Ebeli, and enjoying it so far. It helps that Hydaelin's sun doesn't burn her like the Daystar does.
Has a very pretty pink parasol she likes to use when out in public. She doesn't use it as a weapon, oh no. She has other things for that.
Ragnaborn Muscadet, the Chosen of Hydaelin, the Warrior of Light, yadda yadda. A six fulm tall Viera carrying an axe bigger than her, Ragna is relatively new to Eorzea and the Scions, unless she was one of the Warriors of Light at Cartineau. If she was, she doesn't remember.
She is a Warrior, but has dabbled in other disciplines, but mainly enjoys a) carrying a massive axe, and b) protecting others. When not charging into dungeons or trying to figure out what Urianger is saying, she has a habit of doing any job she can find on a job board, and any quest someone is willing to hand to her. So far this has netted her an appreciable amount of gil, a damn nice Chocobo, and lots of networking.
Is pretty sure she's in love with Y'shtola, marking her as a woman of taste, but would not kick Haurchefant out of bed.
Also, as the ears and name indicate, she is a viera.
Leaping Sky, Chosen of the Unconquered Sun, Bronze Tiger, Dawn Caste, Superhero. Sky has been Ebeli's sidekick and partner almost as long as he's been Exalted. They've been working together for twenty years, are obviously a couple, and have long worked through that awkward 'will they or won't they' phase due to varied adventures and more than one evil wedding put on by an Infernal.
Sky wields an artifact sword named Sky Splitter, which combined with his own melee abilities, makes him a holy (literally) terror on a battlefield. On the other hand, he has no real want or need to become a king, so leads the big plans to others and enjoys sidequesting.
His flawed virtue is Temperance, and as thus tends to think like a JRPG protagonist. Has not yet used the Aetheryte because he just flies everywhere.
Ebeli, Chosen of the Unconquered Sun, Copper Spider, Twilight Caste, 5-Star reviews on Yelp in Hell. Ebeli is a former Dynast who exalted the wrong splat, and quickly fell down the rabbit hole of using demons to solve her problems. Then again, she does take after her Aunt Mnemon, and it's worked for her so far. Ebeli has a medium sized army of first circle demons with her, a single third circle demon, and has not realized that due to Hydaelin being outside of Creation she can summon Third Circle Demons whenever she wants, and we are that long away from it being Ligier O'Clock.
As an Adamant Circle Sorcerer, she has many tools at her disposal that can be seen through your eyelids, and wields a staff that both allows her to more easily summon demons, and makes her persuasive with them. On the other hand, she treats her demons like people, not as tools, and thus has many denizens of Hell willing to work with her.
Her flawed virtue is Conviction, and no one notices when she limit breaks. Has not yet used the Aetheryte because she's been busy understanding this star's magitek.
Hans, Erymanthoi, Blood Ape, Sorcerer, and Dapper Attendant has worked for Ebeli for twenty years as her second. He is a Blood Ape, meaning he needs wide doorways and eats meat, and hates cats. Or at least used to until he initiated into sorcery and sacrificed his bloodlust. He is Ebeli's Seneschal, second, and chief defender.
He's also big enough to saddle and ride, and Ragna may want to find out where she can get an Erymanthoi as a mount.
That Which Calls to the Shadows, is a Third Circle Demon, and anyone with Aether goggles has an ohshit moment when they see her. Mainly because they haven't seen that level of sheer power for a long time, such as, say, Bahamut.
She is also known as Erembour, Seventh Soul of the Ebon Dragon, the Dancer in Darkness and Queen of the Shadow Beneath the Dragon. She's bound to Ebeli, and enjoying it so far. It helps that Hydaelin's sun doesn't burn her like the Daystar does.
Has a very pretty pink parasol she likes to use when out in public. She doesn't use it as a weapon, oh no. She has other things for that.
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Winged One
Not the Simurgh
- Location
- definitely the ground
- Pronouns
- They/Them/It
...did they go through with an evil wedding partly because they wanted to get married anyway and partly to let an Infernal ally of convenience bleed Limit?