Difference between revisions of "Darzoni/CampaignsReflectionsS10"

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<I>Damon tells a tale of the First Age, using her alien magic to weave the tale as if it were happening around the audience... [[Darzoni/I]]>
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<I>Damon tells a tale of the First Age, using her alien magic to weave the tale as if it were happening around the audience... </I>
  
<I>"And they arrived at Jade-Upon-The-River, which in those days was nothing more than a vast patch of wild jungle land, waiting to be tamed by the mighty Exalted of the Age. They were young in the eyes of the Solar Deliberative, and were given the task of raising a city of splendors on the river, so that they may prove to be worthy heirs to the power of the Unconquered Sun. They, being newly appointed governors of the region, arrived on the shores of the river in magnificent skyships with shimmering rainbow wings and gleaming hulls of polished silver, bringing with them their retinue of loyal Terrestrials, their Sidereal major domos, and their beloved Lunar spouses... [[Darzoni/I]]><BR>
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<I>"And they arrived at Jade-Upon-The-River, which in those days was nothing more than a vast patch of wild jungle land, waiting to be tamed by the mighty Exalted of the Age. They were young in the eyes of the Solar Deliberative, and were given the task of raising a city of splendors on the river, so that they may prove to be worthy heirs to the power of the Unconquered Sun. They, being newly appointed governors of the region, arrived on the shores of the river in magnificent skyships with shimmering rainbow wings and gleaming hulls of polished silver, bringing with them their retinue of loyal Terrestrials, their Sidereal major domos, and their beloved Lunar spouses... </I><BR>
<I>The world around the newly arrived Exalted was yet untamed. A vast expanse of jungle lays before them. Here, in the large clearing that had been washed out by the recent monsoon season, the four skyships have set down, and camp is beginning to be made by the mortal labor crews under the guidance of the Terrestrial soldiers in accordance with the auspicious designs the Sidereals had already plotted out..."[[Darzoni/I]]>
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<I>The world around the newly arrived Exalted was yet untamed. A vast expanse of jungle lays before them. Here, in the large clearing that had been washed out by the recent monsoon season, the four skyships have set down, and camp is beginning to be made by the mortal labor crews under the guidance of the Terrestrial soldiers in accordance with the auspicious designs the Sidereals had already plotted out..."</I>
  
 
Airships? The Zenith known as Reverent Blade doesn't need any stinking airships! There's a beating of glowing, artifical wings as the priest lowers to the ground, the warm glow surrounding him dissipating as the magic infusing the artifact diffuses, being reclaimed by his body as he lands. Nodding respectfully to the laborers, the Solar calmly settles upon a nearby log, watching with interest as he basks in a sunbeam. What? He's a priest. Nice guy to have around, but he doesn't know squat about Manse construction. Still, after a few minutes, the Zenith calmly stands, rolling up the sleeves of his light armor and striding over towards where a mortal crew, having slipped through the cracks of their supervisor's watchful eye, is struggling with an unruly piece of cargo. Smiling, the Zenith pitches in, helping them unload the cargo safely, chatting calmly with them as he does so.
 
Airships? The Zenith known as Reverent Blade doesn't need any stinking airships! There's a beating of glowing, artifical wings as the priest lowers to the ground, the warm glow surrounding him dissipating as the magic infusing the artifact diffuses, being reclaimed by his body as he lands. Nodding respectfully to the laborers, the Solar calmly settles upon a nearby log, watching with interest as he basks in a sunbeam. What? He's a priest. Nice guy to have around, but he doesn't know squat about Manse construction. Still, after a few minutes, the Zenith calmly stands, rolling up the sleeves of his light armor and striding over towards where a mortal crew, having slipped through the cracks of their supervisor's watchful eye, is struggling with an unruly piece of cargo. Smiling, the Zenith pitches in, helping them unload the cargo safely, chatting calmly with them as he does so.
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The fae is tied up quickly and efficiently by the Dragon-Blooded, and taken to a small tent and guarded.  
 
The fae is tied up quickly and efficiently by the Dragon-Blooded, and taken to a small tent and guarded.  
  
<I>The storyteller says, "And that is how I first met the Circle."[[Darzoni/I]]>
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<I>The storyteller says, "And that is how I first met the Circle."</I>
  
 
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"Thank you father." Sayla bows courteously to Jeryl.
 
"Thank you father." Sayla bows courteously to Jeryl.
  
<I>The storyteller pauses here to show the audience the pendant, which still glows and pulses. "This is the very same pendant that Sayla forged when she named me..."[[Darzoni/I]]>
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<I>The storyteller pauses here to show the audience the pendant, which still glows and pulses. "This is the very same pendant that Sayla forged when she named me..."</I>
  
 
"Wait, wait, wait..[[Darzoni/WAIT]]/." The Dawn exclaims, raising up an palm to stop. "Time out. Are you saying -- heck, AGREEING -- that we should get a Fae coming from the Sun knows where (Their crazy places made out of insanity, I bet) just like some kind of pet?" He stops to stares at the pendant. Okay. Now that was kinda neat. Kinda.
 
"Wait, wait, wait..[[Darzoni/WAIT]]/." The Dawn exclaims, raising up an palm to stop. "Time out. Are you saying -- heck, AGREEING -- that we should get a Fae coming from the Sun knows where (Their crazy places made out of insanity, I bet) just like some kind of pet?" He stops to stares at the pendant. Okay. Now that was kinda neat. Kinda.

Latest revision as of 14:18, 9 June 2010

Session 10 of Reflections, the First Age.


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Damon tells a tale of the First Age, using her alien magic to weave the tale as if it were happening around the audience...

"And they arrived at Jade-Upon-The-River, which in those days was nothing more than a vast patch of wild jungle land, waiting to be tamed by the mighty Exalted of the Age. They were young in the eyes of the Solar Deliberative, and were given the task of raising a city of splendors on the river, so that they may prove to be worthy heirs to the power of the Unconquered Sun. They, being newly appointed governors of the region, arrived on the shores of the river in magnificent skyships with shimmering rainbow wings and gleaming hulls of polished silver, bringing with them their retinue of loyal Terrestrials, their Sidereal major domos, and their beloved Lunar spouses...
The world around the newly arrived Exalted was yet untamed. A vast expanse of jungle lays before them. Here, in the large clearing that had been washed out by the recent monsoon season, the four skyships have set down, and camp is beginning to be made by the mortal labor crews under the guidance of the Terrestrial soldiers in accordance with the auspicious designs the Sidereals had already plotted out..."

Airships? The Zenith known as Reverent Blade doesn't need any stinking airships! There's a beating of glowing, artifical wings as the priest lowers to the ground, the warm glow surrounding him dissipating as the magic infusing the artifact diffuses, being reclaimed by his body as he lands. Nodding respectfully to the laborers, the Solar calmly settles upon a nearby log, watching with interest as he basks in a sunbeam. What? He's a priest. Nice guy to have around, but he doesn't know squat about Manse construction. Still, after a few minutes, the Zenith calmly stands, rolling up the sleeves of his light armor and striding over towards where a mortal crew, having slipped through the cracks of their supervisor's watchful eye, is struggling with an unruly piece of cargo. Smiling, the Zenith pitches in, helping them unload the cargo safely, chatting calmly with them as he does so.

The Eclipse, Urun steps off the skyships, looking around. He looks around, smoothing a wrinkle out of his silk tunic without even thinking about it. This will do, he thinks to himself, as he surveys the encampment. He moves through the camp with a strange fluid grace, occasionally ordering a terrestrial here and there around, carrying himself with an air of confidence and just a smidgen of pride. You can't be building a city if you don't think-- no, don't KNOW-- you have the ability, now can you?

The Dawn, Xerios -- simply Xerios, an simple name is rare in this age -- is already hard at work as soon the Airships has arrived. Not only he is in charge of setting up an temporary base of operation in here while they find a suitable location to found a new city, but he is also incharge of the defenses of the expedition group, and that include thoses shiny, big, fun creations called 'Warstriders'. The man himself is huge, bronze skinned by the sun itself, and just plain scary to look at.

A number of Terrestrials are lumbering about in their own more common Warstriders, felling multiple trees with a stroke of the massive blades wielded by the Warstriders. These are carried away by artisans and carpenters to form the raw materials for construction of the base camp.

And so, Jeryl Kerton, Nightengale's Song and their daughter, Sayla Jeryl, get off the skyship they were on, and wander around, looking over a map of the city. As the local architect, his job is overseeing construction. But right now, it's just setting up camp...construction - /real/ construction won't start for a few hours, at least.
"Yes...and we'll set up the temple...there. I'll have to take a look at the Essence flows, but I think it'll be excellent. Very powerful."
Jeryl isn't a large man. In fact, he's actually rather average - well, except his clothing. Loose, light-weight and lavishly decorated. Symbols of balance and the Unconquered Sun In Twilight everywhere, and threads of brilliant color throughout, giving the impression of a Twilight anima banner despite being clothing.

Urun looks around at the jungle. "Hmm. So, we have to build a city out here, in the middle of nowhere, and make it prosper." He turns to Jeryl and asks, "How many different ideas have you already come up with, and will any be physically possible?"

A Sideral advisor, named Auspicious Guidance of Heaven, gathers the Four Solars at the pavilion-sized tent that has been erected in the past hour. Inside there are many crates with parchment, scrolls, writing intstruments, and other necessities of the eventual bureaucratic nerve center. On the main table is a large magical map, with a three-dimensional representation of the entire region under the governorship of the four Solars. With a wave and a thought, one can zoom in on specific regions and see the lay of the land.

The Lunars, meanwhile, have left to ascertain the wildlife of the region, and to hunt fresh food for the base camp.

After a bit of chatting with the workcrew, the young Zenith calmly starts to meander back towards his own airship, waving lazily at a few of his younger mortal acolytes and helpers as they start to unload cargo from the moored ship. As for the Zenith, nodding pleasantly, he's led away by the group's Sideral advisor. Looking at it calmly, having seated himself on a comfortable camp chair, Reverent Blade merely waits on the input of the group's architect. He has some input. After all, he has to check out the site and see if the Unconquered Sun will bless the construction there, but he's willing to remain quiet and wait for a bit.

Jeryl looks over the 3-D plan. "I've got several - they're all possible. Some might take more work, but they're all /possible/. But I think what we need to do first is test our boundaries."
He points to the borders.
"You see, the city will be...at least seventy <large units of distance> across, in all directions. We have to make sure there are no major problems in this area - and if there are, we'll be wiping them out."

Urun nods. "Seventy miles across. Well, we certainly have our work cut out for us, don't we?" He smiles. "If all goes well, we shouldn't have much trouble clearing out woodlands and anything we encounter out here." He examines the map, and hums to himself.

Of course, Xerios only actualy reached that 'briefing' room after parking all the massive Warstriders of the contingency force -- including his own personal Juggernaut of an armor, so eloquently called the 'Unnmovable Charge' for because, you see, it's one huge motherfugger. After giving his own personal soldiers and Terrestial subordinates some orders(and giving an subtle 'have fun' to his Lunar), the Dawn Solar arrives late, seeing in time the 3-D Plan. The huge Man has his Dire Spear, the Aurora Arc, strapped on his back -- as always. He whistle. "Woa. That's ...a pretty big part of land, we've got."

Jeryl turns momentarily to Reverent Blade.
"There's no problems with this plan, are there? No rumblings from On High?"

The Zenith smiles calmly, eyeing the sketches and scratching his chin. "Not that He's said. I don't believe we'll be having any trouble...I'll have to check the site you wanted to build the central temple on to make sure it's acceptable to Him, but I don't anticipate any real trouble." Standing and cricking his neck, the Zenith pats his Daiklave and uses a finger to point out a few spots. "Still. Means I'll need to inspect here, here, here, and here at some point. Not a huge rush. We can't really start building until the camp's set up and we've cleared those areas, so it's not as if we're laboring under a time limit." ...Really. No Foreshadowing at all.

"Still, let us not waste any time." Xerios states, crossing his massive arms over his chest, looking at the points the Zenith pointed out. "We never know what could be hiding around this place, and it's best to be ready for whatever is around." Hey, Paranoia like that is part of being a General. "I'll gathers my mens and go investigate after...they return." He cough. Obiviously talking about the Lunars.

"Yes...of course."
Jeryl nods.
"The temple will be in the center of the city, if acceptable - and at noon, I've calculated that Sol Invictus shall be directly overhead - however, I've designed it so that the light will always be as noon on a cloudless day - perhaps brighter. But that will be dealt with later."

A second Sidereal, a young one that is unknown to the Solars, comes in carrying a... small spirit or lesser god. It resembles a small lizard at the moment, with three eyes and green jade for scales. The Sidereal is obviously excited. "Good news, most esteemed sirs! This is your City Father. His arrival was portented on the Loom of Fate." The nascent spirit licks the Sidereal's face... "Heh heh... You have the privlege of naming him, esteemed sirs."

Urun looks at the lizard. "...You're kidding, right?"

The Sidereal holds the squirming spirit at arm's length, because it's trying to lick his face off. "Heh! No esteemed sirs. He will grow as the city grows... he's not too bright at the moment because the city is just a base camp right now... Hey!" The spirit has jumped out of the Sidereal's hands and crawled right up Revered Blade's leg and up onto the shoulder, where it flicks its twin tongues at the ear of the Zenith.

Xerios stares, his eyes going wide at the sight of the little god...pretty much squirming away and hiding behind the Zenith's leg. "Heh. I think it's likes you. Let's call it 'Reverended Jade Dragonling', whaddya say?"

Auspicious Guidance strokes his Fu Manchu Beard and mustache, chuckling quietly at the small god.

Urun sighs. "No, Xerios, lets not and say we didn't. That's too weak for what this little guy will become, anyway."

The Zenith stands, chuckling as he nods to the nascent spirit. "Greetings to you in the name of the Unconquered Sun, Ascended Elder of Jade. We shall endeavor to ensure that your growth will be swift and glorious." The Zenith nods at the other Exalted, chuckling. "So, when Luna's Chosen return, we'll have a better idea of the lay of the land and problems that may arise in our task." The Zenith pauses, then eyes Xerios, grinning slightly.

Jeryl grins.
"He /likes/ you."
And then winces.
"...no, I /really/ don't think so."
And then grins again.
"That, however, works. And the plan, too."

The Dawn grunts. "Fine, fine, but I'm not hearing you guys giving out better ideas, now." He stops, staring at the Zenith for a good moment, smacking his forhead. Darzoni/Never mind/. That's better than what I've just proposed." He nods. "Let's wait for them to return, then.

Urun nods. He examines all the stuff for the future nerve center of the bureaucracy and nods approvingly. "This will do for now."

Jeryl twiddles with the plan for a moment, and then the flows of Essence appear, little curling rivers of light in many colors.
"Hm...interesting...yes, these will have to be manipulated a little, but I see where streets could be laid."

Urun looks at the map, thinks of the scale, and looks over to Jeryl. "This may be a stupid question, but if the city is seventy miles across, how do we get from one end to the other quickly?"

Auspicious Guidance bows... "And the locale of your Manse, sir?" He points to a great concentration of essence flows, showing to currently be a very powerful nexus of essence flows.

Jeryl grins.
"Leave /that/ to me-oh, yes, that. Yes. That is an /excellent/ spot."

Xerios pretty much watch Jeryl work. He could do something of that scale as well -- but it's not his job to do so. His Sorcery knowledge is pretty limited compared to that man's. The Dawn looks over at the point offered, whistling. "Yeah, that will work juuuuust nicely." Then, he look at the Circle. "If I am not needed, I shall return to work."

Jeryl says, "Hm...when Luna's Children return, I want to ask them about their discoveries. We won't find normal things. The power here is far too strong. I'm sure they'll have noticed."

The essence is shown to be Wood aspected, which will need to be changed over time.

Jeryl says, "No one should enter this area..." Point at the nexus of flows. "...unprepared. It's dangerous, because it's unknown and highly powerful."

Reverent Blade nods pleasantly at the Circle's vizers and the rest of the circle. "I feel no problems with such a location. It's well situated, it's central, it's a powerful flow of Essence. And, yes, it is going to be interesting along here. At least we have a local on our side." And, grinning, the Zenith roots around in a pocket of his buffcoat, offering a small cube of candy to the City's Spirit. Hey, EVERYONE likes Candy. Evil Dreadnaughts, Abyssals, Solars, Sidereals, Elementals...They ALL like Candy.

The city spirit grabs the candy with its tongues and smacks on it noisily.

Urun hopes that wasn't gum the spirit ate, or they'll need a new one. He looks over at Xerios. "I don't think you're needed here at the moment, no. Unless," he adds, as he looks at the others, "one of you have a job for him."

The sidereals nods. "As you wish... though aspecting it to the Unconquered Sun will eliminate these smaller demenses here, here, and here. I think it will likely be one of the most impressive manses in all of creation with regard to the essence flows it harnesses." He points to some outlying demenses, which are much smaller.

Jeryl nods again.
"Thank you for your input. It has been helpful"

Seeing his help is not needed, Xerios...just go back into bossing around his men. They can't really be allowed of relaxing, you know. They gotta keep CRACKING.

There is an anomalous essence flow on the map.. the flows sink underground...

Jeryl says, "...that's...odd."

Urun hmms? "What is?"

"There is but one explanation for that flow," Auspicious Guidance explains, "There must be a Mountain Folk city nearby."

Jeryl says, "Essence doesn't /normally/ do that...we'll have to investigate that area." Point at the sink. "Before we can build...yes, that could be. But if there is...we'll have to convince them to leave, won't we...?"

The Sidereal smiles... "Why ask them to leave when they keep the remnants of the Primordial War deep underground? We could utilize their talent to build the city."

Jeryl says, "...yes. That could work."
And he turns with some distaste to Urun.
"...your job will be to keep them from being /too/ unhappy about it."

Xerios is, meanwhile, patroling around the area and pretty much flag defensible spots, weaknesses, and suchs about the terrain. Nothing extensive as far scouting goes, bot...

Urun smiles and nods. "Negotiation could work. The aggressive variety will be a last resort, of course."

Yes. Well. Reverent Blade has returned to the main pavillion, having stepped out to quietly circulate among some of the Dragon Blooded and their crews, as well as to ascertain that his acolytes are aiding in setting up the main camp. Having returned, Ascended Elder of Jade still curled up on his shoulder, the Zenith strokes a hand along his chin.
"Well, it would be excellent if we could have their aid. They are fine builders and fighters. As well, if they're here, they may know if there are problems in the area or under it that we are unaware of. Nothing to be lost by consulting with them. On a practical note, if we can negotiate their territory with them, we can allow them to defend a large amount of terrain we are unfamliar with."


Night falls, and a great congregation of tents has arisen, inhabiting them are the mortal craftsmen and soldiers. Guarding the skyships are the Terrestrials, since losing the skyships at this stage of events would cripple the whole enterprise. The common Warstriders, with Essence powered lights, stand watch at the perimeter, blades and weaponry at the ready.
The Lunars have returned with a slain Tyrant Lizard for a great feast, a bonfire erected to roast the thing. There is an air of celebration for the first day's work. Meanwhile, the Lunars say that there are many strange beasts roaming in the forests, and trees that grow unnaturally tall.
The Solars, Lunars, and Sidereals sense something is about to happen. Their gaze is drawn up into the sky at falling star, realizing slowly that it is headed straight for camp.

Urun waves a finger at the star. "That... that isn't good. Time to go?"
Urun adds, "Unless one of you wants to get into a Warstrider, NOW, and try to deflect it with a tree, I'm hauling ass."

Jeryl says, "You should both go and try it...we /cannot/ lose this camp, our or lives. Try not to hit it into the Mountain Folk city, either.Darzoni/Or/ the Demesne."

The colors of the star are Wyld-tainted, shimmering and fading in unreal fashions. A trail of rather randomly warped objects can be seen to fall behind it. It looks like there's... a person in that thing. There is also a scream emanating from it, and getting closer by the minute.

Reverent Blade, for a priest, certainly isn't one to avoid taking part in some of the fun. Relaxing in a chair, a single glass of wine at hand, the Zenith relaxes back, watching the fire and reading a scroll he'd packed along, chuckling quietly now and then. How's he reading?
...Erm...Well...Glowing. Lots of glowing. Heh. Still. After hearing of the report of the giant trees from his partner, the warrior Lunar Implacable Shield, the young Zenith makes a note to himself that it would be a good idea to find out if there's any local Spirit Court in place. After all, the Circle's plans will be changing the Essence flows in the area, and negotiating with the Spirits instead of fighting them would make construction easier, and hey, why is there something falling straight at the camp. Standing up, eyeing it, the Zenith barks out a command even as essence flows into his cape, wings flaring in a brilliant aura of anima as he darts into the air, Implacable Shield close behind. Neither of 'em is getting close to the object...But they are trying to at least get an idea of what it IS.
...And the pair of Exalted are making sure to NOT get in the line of fire of the Warstriders.

Urun is getting out of the way of this thing.
Urun is getting out of the blast radius, too.

Jeryl, in complete confidence, turns to Xerios.
"Deal with this, please?"

Xerios was partying alright, really. He was having a good time drinking, eating, and generaly be around with his wife -- of course, the Dawn was one of the first Exatled to notice the star...which he narrow his eyes out. "What in the name of..." He begins to say, jerking upward on his feets...and narrow his eyes at what he sees. A person...and obiviously the Wyld is tainted by this 'star'.
"Oh, no kidding?"
Of course, he's ignoring the very fact there is aDarzoni/SCREAM/ coming out of it. The massive man draw out Aurora Arc, crouch down to gather some strength andDarzoni/LEAP/ mightily upward, holding up the massive Dire Spear, rocketing against the 'star', essence gathering around the Dawn Solar into forming an bright, impenetrable shield.

Urun stops at the edge of where it would hit and watches.

Sayla watches, clad in her shiny shiny Superheavy Plate.

Sweatdropping as he watches the screaming ball of metal and whatnot, Reverent Blade calmly starts to drop towards the ground, wings beating slowly as he lands, reclaiming the essence and settling the cloak around him. Behind him, his partner breathes out a relieved sigh, the pair watching the party's Dawn Caste deal with the falling object. Erm...Reverent Blade could have done that. ...Probaly. Heh.

The form around Xerios pretty much creates another comet as far the people down still on the Earth can see. The Dawn Solar pretty much solidly connects with the incoming comet in an massive shockwave of essence exploding from the Heavenly Shield. The two celestial objects remains in mid air. Xerios grit his teeth, holding his Dire Spear tight and trying to deflect the incoming...'person'.
Yes, he's standing in midair, now.

The 'comet' is deflected, and Xerios is covered in a strange unearthly flower from the blow. The person, who is encased in a formidible looking armor made of glass and gems and has a massive and elaborate sword made of a solid piece of diamond on her back, lands in a heap right in front of Sayla. *thump*
To add insult to injury, a kitchen sink falls on the prone figure.

Xerios plummets back to the ground at frightening speed -- but he himself is not afraid. He lands on the ground loudly, crouched, his brutal landing causing an slight tremor around his surrounding vicinity. His eyes are set on the 'person' crash landing in front of Sayla. Well, damn, that was sure close. Smoothly, the Dawn get back up straight and sheath his spear, slowly advancing toward...the fallen, glass figure.

Xerios stops.
Stares.
Stares.
"What." He simply states.

Nightingale’s Song creeps over and sniffs the unconscious figure... "It is a Fair One..." She sneers.

Urun heads back to the tent to see who landed. He stares a bit when he gets next to the figure, wondering if its alive. "Hmm. So it is." He eyes the sword. "Best hope its friendly."

Xerios peers at Nightengale, rolling his eyes. "I think I kinda figuredDarzoni/THAT/ one when I got assaulted by flowers, thanksyouverymuch."

Jeryl looks to Sayla.
"You're not hurt, ye-what is /that/ doing?"
And the sink...dumbfounds even him. And then he turns to Nightingale’s Song.
"A...wonderful. Someone, tie it up."

Reverent Blade merely shakes his head, calmly sitting back down in his chair, nodding politely at Implacable Shield as she settles in her own chair. And, that done, the Zenith resumes reading. Why? Well...He figures there will be a chance to talk with the Fae later. No reason to crowd, after all.

The fae is tied up quickly and efficiently by the Dragon-Blooded, and taken to a small tent and guarded.

The storyteller says, "And that is how I first met the Circle."


The day dawns, and the Solars are expected to greet it with respect in deference to their glorious patron the Unconquered Sun. Work crews offer their daily prayers to the gods for letting them live in such a glorious age, taking a morning meal together.

Jeryl is, indeed, praying and meditating. He's /dutiful/. He's not praying /hard/, that's not his job, but he's at least praying.

Xerios is, indeed, greeting the Dawn with respect. That's kinda goes with that, y'know,Darzoni/DAWN/ is his caste. The Solar is in light meditation -- or rather prayers -- while his Wife is pretty much...doing whatever Lunars do during mornings.

Urun remembers the days he used to sleep in. When he didn't know there WAS a 5 AM. When he could sleep till almost high noon because he had nothing else to do that day. Yeah, those were certainly the days. He gets up begrudgingly, and clears his head before paying his respects. It isn't his caste or favorite time of the day, but it is important, and he'll do it anyway.

Ascended Elder of Jade seems... bigger, and has a third tongue now.

Of course...The Circle's Zenith is the first one to greet the rising sun, smiling contentedly as he sits in a simple clearing, looking up. The morning duties are relatively routine. Not that it's ever routine serving the Unquenchable Glory of the Sun, but there are certain rituals that are a daily occurrence...Simple things, but meant! Anyways. Reverent Blade leads the morning prayers, then finally has a meal around midmorning, recalling to set aside a bit of sweets for the Ascended Elder of Jade, idly noting the larger size of the City Father. Having done that, the Zenith calmly circulates through the camp, nodding at people now and then as he hunts down Jeryl, tapping the Twilight on the shoulder when he has a spare moment.
"Something to think about. The Lunars mentioned those huge trees...Which means large spirits that must be appeased or persuaded to go along with the changes we're making to the essence flows."

Jeryl nods at the Zenith.
"Yes...we will. It won't be difficult...Yu-Shan's will is behind us in this matter. But we'll deal with it anyway, show them their respect and grant them trees to rule in the new city, if not such large ones."

Xerios, after spending a good amount of time in prayers, finnaly snap out of them. He is not like Reverend who could keep the whole damned day in contemplation of ol' US. The Dawn, short of having his wife around (SHE has duties as well), does his first morning inspection runs, updates about defenses...and finnaly, goes investigating the so called 'Faerie' that fell from the heavens last night. And that mean going into the tent...armed, of cousre.

Jeryl says, "We should probably go deal with the prisoner, now...the Fair Ones are trouble, no matter how few."

Urun eventually gets around to heading over to the prison tent, after the typical prayers and stuff.

As the day begins in earnest, the Exalted are visited by Elementals and Spirits of the local land., to pay fealty.
A rather powerful spirit named the Golden Lord has ridden in upon his elephant mount to greet the Exalted. He bows deeply to each of the Solars. "Greetings and salutations, ladies and gentlemen." He bows to each of the Sidereals and Lunars as well. "I am the Golden Lord, a vassal of the Unconquered Sun. I welcome you to the Kingdom of An-Teng. I hope you will find many challenges worthy of your Exalted selves in these untamed lands. I bring you a gift, a token." He takes a large chest from the elephant, giving out wondrously wrought jewelry and finely cut gems. "These are yours... and I must take my leave, there are matters I must attend to."

Urun handles all the fealty stuff, as it seems to be his job. Public relations and all. He greets, thanks, and sees off the Golden Lord as well.

Reverent Blade nods to the Twilight, content now that he's brought up the point he was thinking of the other night, afore the whole "Woman falling from the sky thing" begins. He pauses, calmly recieving and exchanging pleasantries with the Golden Lord, afore resuming his trek towards the Prison Tent, idly flagging down a passing Acolyte and having his share of the gifts taken back to his tent. After all, they'll look wonderful if put into a statue to the Unconquered Sun...Anyways. The Zenith meanders his way towards the tent, pausing to chat with the common laborers and Dragon Blooded every as he goes. Why? He's a priest. He's honestly trying to find out if there's any problems and the like.

There are at -least- five well-trained Terrestrials guarding the tent, and they let the Solars in. It seems the Sidereals felt that merely tying up the Fair One was not enough, for they have bound her in manacles and leg irons made of the Four Magical Materials.

Xerios, sadly, miss the meeting, even if he sees it from his spot. He's waiting in front of the Tent, arm crossed, nodding at the incoming Reverent. Besides, he have full trust that his fellow Solars will get him his share as well without problems. "I was waiting for you. Let's go inside and see if this...'person' woke up. And when they enter...he see this.
The Dawn stares at the chained Fae, silently, peers at the Zenith next to himself, then at the Fae. "Who are you?" He asks, simply enough.

Jeryl follows into the tent after the meeting with the Golden Lord. Ah, the prisoner. But he waits and watches from the sides, because he's willing to let Xerios deal with this for now.
Sayla, the ever dutiful daughter, follows her father into the tent.


Urun mentally notes not to allow the Dawn to question anyone of importance if it requires subtlety. He stands next to him in the tent, hands behind his back, watching the Fae.

Reverent Blade makes a mental note to always have Xerios question prisoners to keep them off their guard. And then leans back, watching, head cocked to the side slightly as he watches the Fae with interest.

Upon inspection, the fae woman seems to be made of the warm sand out of the deepest south, with hair of fire. The eyes are rubies with an inner fire. The lips are a charcoal black, with the breath from them issuing forth in small puffs of steam. The sword and armor are laying in one corner of the tent, objects of otherworldly beauty like their owner.
She glares fiercely at Xerios. "I have no name, it was eaten."

Urun raises an eyebrow. "What do you mean, eaten?"

She sneers, the breath seems perfumed with cinnamon and certain rare spices popular in the furthest reaches of the South. Like incense burnt upon an altar. "It was eaten by the monsters who cast me into this lifeless hellhole."

Xerios raise an eyebrow and make the mental note that he's so awesome.
"So lemme get this straight. You got your name eaten by monsters that cast you in this place." He states, massive arms crossing over his chest. "So 'they' kicked you out."

Jeryl is taking notes. A wonderful way to learn about raksha culture.

The Zenith muses to himself as he glances out of the tent, watching the bustle of the camp as supplies are made, the camp expanded, and the like. He shrugs. "Seems to be quite full of life to me." And, with that, the Zenith relaxes back into his chair, studying the Fae with interest.

Sayla ohs? "So she needs a name? What about..." She smiles a bit... "Damon Wyld-Born."

Xerios' eyes flicks over to Sayla. "...'Damon'? Why 'Damon' and not, say, 'Lisle' or 'Tatyena'?"

Jeryl nods happily at Sayla.
"That is a good name...you may name her that."
And then, in anticipation of the question...
"And yes, you may keep her. If she's housebroken."

A small pendant shaped like a heart, with an inner fire that pulses like a heart, materializes in Sayla’s hand... The Fair One glares at Sayla, upset at something. "By naming me, you've bound me. Damn you..."
"Thank you father." Sayla bows courteously to Jeryl.

The storyteller pauses here to show the audience the pendant, which still glows and pulses. "This is the very same pendant that Sayla forged when she named me..."

"Wait, wait, wait..Darzoni/WAIT/." The Dawn exclaims, raising up an palm to stop. "Time out. Are you saying -- heck, AGREEING -- that we should get a Fae coming from the Sun knows where (Their crazy places made out of insanity, I bet) just like some kind of pet?" He stops to stares at the pendant. Okay. Now that was kinda neat. Kinda.

"Not /we/, Xerios. Sayla does."
Jeryl grins.
"And, young lady, I want you to make sure she doesn't make messes or cause problems with construction. And walk her every day."
He's still grinning as he says this.

"...Well, yes, that does appear to be what he said, Xerios." The Zenith doesn't seem too bothered by things at all. After all...He's curious. And getting some insights into the way the Fae think could be useful. As well, eh, Reverent Blade is more curious than hostile.

Sayla bows again to her father, then puzzles over the pendant in her hand. "What's this thing?" Damon sighs... "That is my Heart. If you destroy it, you destroy me. What would you have me do, master?"

Xerios stares, blinking once, twice...then just /grunts/, facepalming. Great, just what they needed...An Fae running amock in the hands of one of his crazy Circlemate's daughter.

Sayla looks at the four Solars, thinks of her own pledge to protect her father... then turns to Urun... "Could you get Damon to swear to serve your Circle for ever and sanctify it?"
Damon blinks... stares... Uh oh. An OATH. WITH A CAPITAL O! AUGGGH! Damon squirms and tries to break free of her artificed bonds, but to no avail.

Xerios lower his hand, just enough to show off his wide opened eyes. Great.Darzoni/GREAT/. JustDarzoni/GREAT/.

The Zenith just sweatdrops at everything going on, and stays where he is. Well...on the plus side, he can always ask Damon some questions about the Fae later. Asides, maybe she'll make a good sentinel or somesuch. Set a thief to catch a thief.

Urun looks over at Sayla. "Well, I could sanctify it, but we would need to make the oath and she would need to swear it herself." He ponders.

Jeryl shakes his head at Urun's remark.
"Well, obviously, we ask her to swear it. She serves the Heart, didn't she call it? So...Sayla, if you'd like to do the honors...?"

Urun hrms, and says, "How about this: You serve us to the best of your abilities, and as long as you do, we won't try to destroy you." He extends a hand. "Do we have a deal?" Simple enough. Business is business...

Damon sighs and agrees... there's a flare of light that bleaches out the tent from the oath being sanctified, with the shadows of things in the tent permanently embedded in the fabric of the tent. The Terrestrials start heading to the skyship for a new tent...

Xerios watch the sanctification happen, letting out another grunt. He just can't believe what they were just doing, now...

Jeryl smiles, shields his eyes, and puts away his notes for now. This has been useful, but there's work to be done, too.
"So...let's get to dealing with those Mountain Folk, shall we?"

Urun nods. "Yeah, lets."

Reverent Blade raises an eyebrow, shrugging slightly, and nods politely at the Circle's servant as he stands up, dusting off his simple clothing. "Indeed. I hope for mutually profitable negotiations with both sides." And, saying so, the Zenith calmly steps out of the tent, idly shrugging his light armor into a slightly more comfortable position, nice and ready to go.

Xerios nods once. Yeah, maybe dealing with the Mountain folk will be a little better than this...none-sense of the last few minutes. That was just...ridiculous. Needless to say, it might take a while for the Dawn to trust this new 'faithful servant'...


Damon wraps her story up with... "So they set out to meet the Mountain Folk... but that is a story for another time."

The large Solar Sarlk, still possibly flanked by shy little fae-blooded teenager girls, has by now sat down, legs crossed, blinking at the end of the story. "...That was...intruiging." The Dawn gives out, scratching his head.

Hulen...just stares. He's still trying to reconcile the fact that Damon looks /exactly/ like Sayla.

The Would-Be Pirate King leans back, rubbing his chin softly as Damon finishes up her tale, eyeing her afore standing up, tapping the Daiklave across his back. "...Interesting. ...Any clue where the Ascendant Elder of Jade is now, Damon? I'm...curious to see how he is, now."

Rynel absorbs the story, and just kinda mentally goes 'wow'. "Thats... quite the tale."

Damon rises as the children scatter to find their parents, shrugging at Wolf's question. "That is something I don't know. My understanding is that he must still exist."

Rynel nods slowly. "Well, if the city is still here, it'd make sense that he should be, too..."

The Pirate-Turned-Priest scratches a bit of stubble growing on his chin, nodding at Damon calmly. "Well...If ye find any hints of him, or have any idea where he may have been hiding in the past, and thus be likely to be staying at in the future, let me know. I...think I'd like to meet him again."

"What, so that you give him some nice little candy again?" Sarlk retorts at the Pirate, getting up himself and strech out. That took a little while, and his muscle just scream for some action, "I bet he's still 'round somewhere."

Wolf shrugs slightly at Sarlk, snorting in his general direction. "Idiot. Why the hell would I give candy to an ancient spirit? I'm just more interested in finding out if he still lives. From the look of it, from Damon's memories, he was relatively close to me in the past, and one can never have too many allies. After all, ancient spirits know where treasure is."

Hulen has stopped being brain-broken, and is now carefully writing down everything he can remember.

Rynel stands up. "Weird little lizard thing, but it'd be nice to see how big it is." He pauses for a moment. "Though, he'd have to have been gigantic if the city ever did reach the seventy mile mark..."

A pause.
"That's a freaking good point." Sarlk gives out after the Pirate.

Hulen is still not ready to actually /talk/, yet, though.