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-:25 [ST] The air above the City used to buzz with airships and aerostats at all hours of the day.  The Empress's private Skywolf class airship, Hesiesh's Breath, patrolled unceasingly.  Only the oldest of the mortals in the city remember the day it hunted the Anathema through the streets with its probing lights, saving them all.
-:25 [ST] Those great Houses who had funded airships also kept them in the skies over the City, ostentatious displays of wealth and power, art pieces that were never expected to see combat, not really.  But with the Empress's disappearance, no one knows the words to waken her ship, and the other Houses have withdrawn their assets to private estates or deployed them in the field.
-:25 [ST] Thus it is that only a few ships still remain above the city.  The slim Ledaal scoutship "In Her Name," the floating, holed derilect "Invincible," and "Decadence," the Cynis pleasure barge.
-:26 [ST] Finished only a year ago, the vessel is the very epitome of its namesake, especially in these difficult times.  It is long, blocky, yet somehow elegant all the same, its prow covered in abstract designs that seem to be nude men and women embracing - a flirtation with heresy in this iconoclastic society.
-:26 [ST] The ship's surface is worked elaborately in whorls of gold and white jade.  Useless false wings of steelsilk stream behinid it, delicate and membraneous, fluttering in the breeze.  It has no gas bag, operated by an advanced First Age engine, found in the Scavenger Lands and bought for a dark, fleshy price that went beyond mere jade.
-:27 [ST] The deck, broad and spacious, is covered with bolted-down tables and elegant, cushioned benches.  Braziers burn incense up and into the sky, and Fareyes from Gem, cunningly-worked brass telescopes, surround the railings for any who should want a better look.  Only the pilot's station aft, a tiny shed scarcely big enough for its mortal occupant to turn the great wheel, spoils the illusion.
-:27 [ST] The staircase that leads below is as broad as the one in | most manses.
-:27 [ST] In the shadowed hall belowdecks, a celebration is in progress.  A group of mortals in loose-fitting robes play instruments from across Creation in the gallery by the staircase, switching completely every few songs, thowing down their instruments and picking up a new arrangement.  Now, a thrumming song from Harborhead, now a whistling ditty from the West.
-:28 [ST] Couches and divans ring the room in a rough semicircle, and upon these lounge the important guests.  Men and women in outfits that are more accent than real clothing dance in the center of the room, drawing avid attention only from the mortal members of House Cynis.  The Dragonblooded watch them with a kind of dulled langour.
-:28 [ST] The air is heavy with opium - it is just past midday, and the Cynis are starting off lightly.
-:32 [ST] Kalan and Talek are flanked on either side by a mounds of writhing flesh.  To one side, that mound is embodied in a single person: Sesus Nagezzar, the so called "Slug."  He guzzles at his wine and belches, disdains skewers to pick the meat from passing plates with his fingers, and pops it into his mouth, virtually inhaling it.
-:32 [ST]  Between bites, he takes drags from a smoldering pipe long enough to knock a mortal unconscious. His many chins work below his jaw as he chews, and the green tint of his flesh seems more illness than the touch of Sextes Jylis. Aside from an occasional comment, he has been utterly silent, however, and  at least he has not disrobed.
-:33 [ST] To the other side reclines Cynis Mataru, the one who summoned you to this meeting, and the writhing flesh is provided by the mortal girl who sprawls across his lap, a tall, lean woman with her hair hanging down her back in one long braid.  Mataru seems, at most, quietly bemused at her presence.  He is a short, ebullient Dragon-Blood, his dark, saturnine face alive with laughter.
-:33 [ST] His hair and eyes are the dark green of a tree in full summer.  His sister, Cynis Matara, stands behind him, her face drawn and serious, a hand clutching the divan behind him.  From time to time, she leans down to say something quietly to him, but he only laughs.
-:34 [Talek] Mnemnon Talek relaxes on a divan, desperately chatting about the many fascinating treatments for opium addiction with a young lady who does not seem interested in a cure, or indeed in anything beyond her own glassy eyes.
-:34 [Kalan] Cathak Kalan lies half-sprawled on a divan beside him, eyes dark and glossy from the opium, sipping from a twisted spiral glass. Across the room, his  abstaining cousin Cathak Malak glares at him ferocious concentration. Mere jealousy; he was here to make sure Kalan didn't do anything rash and had been strickly forbidden from embibing himself. Kalan raises the glass in mocking salute, but this hand shakes and a few droplets fall on his neighbors.
-:35 [Kalan] "Many apologies," he slurs, with a half-bow that is nevertheless Legion-crisp.
-:36 [ST] The Slug seems not to notice, concerned as he is with his own amusements.
-:38 [Talek] On Talek's shoulder his monkey, Henri, squeeks furiously at the opium
-:39 [ST] Cynis Mataru leans over, fondling the woman on his lap almost as an afterthought as he asks, "I trust the celebrations are to your satisfaction. It is rare indeed that guests enjoy the hospitality of our Decadence."
-:39 [ST] The gleam in his eyes shows that's he's far too amused at his own pun.
-:41 [Talek] "ah, yes, thank you." he says, as his conversation partner slumps her head down on his shoulder sleepily
-:42 [Kalan] "It is, as always, a source of ....immense satisfaction to your guests." One poor pun deserved another. His lips curl at the Slug beside him, safely preoccupied. There were some levels he had never stooped to, thank the Dragons.
-:43 [ST] "My dear sister," Mataru adds, rolling his eyes. "Thinks such matters are better discussed in a different setting, but I feel... that in order to understand why the Realm must be served, one must appreciate its... advantages."
-:45 [Kalan] He inhales another breath of smoke from his opium pipe, and leans back, the faces around him blurring into colored smears. "This is what we fight for,' Kalan agrees, closing his eyes to enjoy the high. There's a brittle edge to his voice. Above, a little sprite of flame darts worriedly among the candles, flaring up disapprovingly now and then.
-:45 [Kalan] How amusing it would be if Zip managed to burn the whole ship down.
-:47 [ST] Matara gives her brother's shoulder a squeeze, and he sighs theatrically. "Nevertheless, I suppose we must bring up business before the... main course." He waves a hand to indicate a tray of Ice Spider Venom, arranged in a row of vials.
-:49 [Kalan] Kalan waves his glass languidly in the air. "By all means."
-:50 [ST] "Nagezzar expressed interest as well." He inclines his head toward the other Dragonblooded, who simply grunts in reply.
-:51 [ST] "Well," Mataru continues. "The fact is-"
-:56 [ST] The girl on his lap leans up, her eyes flashing almost dangerously, and whispers something in his ear. "Oh," he says, then looks at you with a devilish grin. "There's nothing I love so much as punishing an impertinent mortal."
-:57 [ST] He stands, swinging the girl up into his arms. "I have fresh business to attend to... I'll allow my sister to fill you in on the rest of the details... unless... Matara, would you care to join us?"
-:57 [ST] Her look of bland disgust shows she's been asked the question many times before.  Mataru winds his way off into the crowds.
-:59 [ST] She seats herself stiffly in her brother's place, her mouth tight.
-:01 [ST] "He doesn't even bother hiring proper entertainment for these things any more," she complains, inanely. "These lot say they come from �Nexus...�"
-:02 [Kalan] Cathak Kalan smiles at her. "Lovely party," he tells her with a hint of mockery. "...exotic." His eyes narrow, and for a moment, he sounds almost a soldier again. "Why are we here?"
-:03 [Talek] "terrible, what happened to that city"
-:04 [ST] "As my brother was going to say before he was..." She shrugs. Her features are unlike her brother's, her hair short, her face less attractive, pinched with worry and a dour expression. "...distracted, the Wyld Hunt has suffered serious setbacks of late."
-:05 [ST] "After the destruction of Nexus, many moved into the Scavenger Lands in hope of winning glory and slaying the Anathema. They thought to finally extend the Realm's influence into the Confederation by carving out land the Mask of Winters had taken."
-:05 [ST] Sesus Nagezzar watches from beneath his brooding brows, munching away at a kebab.
-:06 [ST] "Many of them were lost. The Wyld Hunt in the East no longer exists as a functioning institution, and the Deliberative is... disinclined to fund it further. Matters have been turned over to the Great Houses to do as we see fit."
-:06 [Kalan] "Yes, I've been to the funerals. The Ledaal have been kicking up a great fuss about all the poor heroes they keep losing." Kalan laughs. "So you're enticing us into one of these suicidal enterprises, are you?"
-:07 [ST] "Mnemon Talek, your recommendations from the Heptagram were impressive. And Cathak Kalan, I understand you have some experience in Thor-" she trails off at the interruption.
-:07 [ST] "Enticement? It is a service to the Realm!"
-:07 [ST] "Bankrolled by House Cynis, of course."
-:08 [ST] "And myself," Nagezzar adds, his first words in the conversation.
-:11 [Talek] "Who are you hunting?" Talek asks? "The latest news is that the major threats are all killing each other off."
-:12 [Kalan] Kalan's smile becomes fixed. �Thorns�. Must we make a damned morality play of this? He catches Malak's eye across the room, still watching him steadily. Yes, it seemed we must.  "Really. I must say, I'm surprised by Cynis." He tips his glass in salute and drains it in one gulp. The alcohol gives him a pleasant buzzing sensation.
-:13 [ST] She seems to consider Talek and Kalan's questions at once. She decides to deal with the latter first, hoping to answer both.
-:13 [ST] "Surprised?"
-:13 [Kalan] "The Mask of Winters is stomping everything in his path, Anathema and Dragonblooded alike, sorcererer. Don't mistake it for good news. He does not weaken."
-:14 [Kalan] He directs his gaze back to the Cynis woman, eyes lingering insultingly. "Yes. I've never known your House to be concerned with anything but your slaves."
-:17 [ST] Her eyes are cold, but she has long had practice in discussing such things. She doesn't flinch. "Kushan, our satrapy closest to the conflict, has been reporting... problems.  There have been disturbances, strange documents. Anathema have been sighted, both Golden and Black.  Our satrap, Cynis Denovah Avaku, has requested-" She stops, unwilling to divulge more.
-:17 [ST] "So yes, Cathak, oh noblest of houses, we shall protect our interests. But the Realm's goals are not at odds with our own. And action is better than awaiting the end."
-:19 [Kalan] "So it is." He tips his glass to her again, less mockingly.
-:21 [ST] "We are assembling a Hunt of our own, to be generously supplied and funded from our stores. We will supply logistics and transportation - no different than the Great Houses have done with the Legions for years."
-:26 [Kalan] "Why do you come to us?" Kalan asks. He glances at the callow sorcerer at his side. "Surely you have...Cynis....clamoring for an opportunity to serve their House." He says it so blandly it's hard to tell whether he's being sarcastic.
-:27 [Talek] "yes, will there be Cynis here?"
-:27 [ST] "Less than one would expect," and her voice is bitter. "It seems-"
-:28 [ST] Before she can conintue, a massive explosion rocks the far end of the ship.  Dancers across the room fall to the floor, tables upend.  The Ice Spider Venom overturns and breaks on the floor, spilling poisonous violet fingers across the deck.
-:30 [ST] From the room where Mataru departed there is a burst of flame and light, and then something is propelled violently through the air, smashing against the rear bulkhead with a splatter of blood.  It is the Cynis's body, rent almost asunder, head hanging loosely on a scrap of flesh.
-:32 [Kalan] Kalan leaps to his feet, hand reaching behind him to wrap around the red direlance that leaned against the wall. It shudders like a tongue of flame in his hand as he falls into his stance. Zip shrieks above him, flaring into searing brightness that casts the whole scene in orange-red light.
-:33 [ST] The corpse of Mataru has landed almost in his sister's lap.  SHe gives a shriek of alarm.  The Slug bolts upright, hurling his companions from him, seeming to awaken all at once. The gathering dissolves into pandemonium.
-:33 [Talek] Henry the monkey cackles alarmedly. Talek is up in the blink of an eye and leaps to the corpse. "dammit"
-:35 [ST] The woman whose head leaned against Talek's shoulder darts upright as he moves, her hands rising to her elaborate headdress in alarm... and coming down with a short, hooked knife.  She spins the blade between her fingers with the expertise of a street juggler, leaping at the young Dragonblood.
-:39 [Talek] Henry shouts a warning. Talek looks at the knife in alarm and then swivels his body to the side, leaving his feet planted, like a tree swaying in the wind.
-:40 [ST] The swing goes wide, the woman screams in frustration. "Bastard Dragon!"
-:41 [ST] The other dancers, too, are drawing weapons from the most unlikely places.  A young man's lyre births a sword; a woman uncoils a chain from her thigh and snaps her wrist, turning it into a short blade.  They fall among the party guests, slashing and hacking.  A mortal Cynis reels sideways, blood bursting from his torn throat.
-:49 [ST] While the woman continues to confront Talek, a trio of dancers moves to try to flank Kalan, blades shining bright in their hands.  One overturns a hookah as he moves forward, sending up a cloud of rank smoke.
-:51 [Kalan] "Malak!" Kalan calls to his cousin, in a voice like a whip. "Clear a path!" Malak responds instincitvely to the command, leaping out of his way. Fire wraps around Kalan's lance like a brilliant, rippling sash, and bursts of flame flare at its tip as it strikes. He wields it with the deftness of a dancer, sweeping it under their feet to knock them off balance, and then driving it through each mortal's throat. One, two, three....
-:52 [Kalan] They dared attack the Dragons.
-:54 [ST] As the direlance comes darting in, the mortals try to defend, stepping backwards, blades flickering up.  They're fast, as fast as any mortal alive...
-:55 [ST] ...but they are not fast enough to stop a chosen of the Dragons. The weapon finds its mark, three times in rapid succession.
-:56 [ST] The first, a man, dies silently, but the man and woman remaining stagger backwards, throats fountaining blood, and become tangled with each other, slewing sideways to crash into a table full of delicate porcelain with a thunderous crash.  Malak darts off, racing up the stairs, shouting for reinforcements.
-:57 [ST] Somewhere behind, there's a crack as Sesus Nagezzar breaks the neck of the woman going for his throat.
-:01 [Talek] Talek grabs a piece of wood splintered off the airship and slashes it neatly across a prominent artery in the woman's neck.
-:04 [Talek] It makes a pleasing swooshing sound as it misses by a centimeter.
-:04 [Talek] Henri glibbers something insulting.
-:04 [ST] The mortal's eyes gleam in crazed triumph.  She seems a fanatic, but a skilled one.
-:05 [ST] Belowdecks, the battle becomes chaotic. Cynis Matara leaps into a mass of the mortals, hacking wildly.
-:06 [ST] There are screams from the deck above, and the ship gives a violent, sideways lurch.  Golden light blasts down through the stairwell to the deck, and Cathak Malak comes rolling down the stairs, pincushioned with arrows, blood leaking from his mouth.
-:06 [ST] His scream is high, reedy, and panicked.
-:06 [ST] "Anathema!"
-:12 [Kalan] Kalan laughs, reckless, burning, mad. "So soon!" He kicks a bleeding mortal out of his way and spears another almost absently through the heart, flinging the impaled woman upwards, where she hangs open-mouthed and bleeding. Kalen runs up the stairs, leaping over his dying cousin.
-:13 [Kalan] The woman hangs from the chandalier, swinging gently from one side of the room to the other, still alive, speckling the screaming guests and crazed fanatics alike with blood.
-:15 [Talek] Talek turns an unforunate shadow of blue green, like the leaves of a plant which isn't planning on getting much sun
-:15 [Talek] His eyes fade to green and an anima of thorns leaps up around him
-:16 [Talek] He sings soothingly to the thorns in a deep voice, and shapes them into small wooden runes. Henry ducks under the spinning runes to grab hold of his foot
-:17 [ST] The woman moves to charge at Talek, but is sent flying by a vicious bodycheck from The Slug, who seems almost, briefly, spry. Talek's spellweaving continues.
-:18 [ST] Kalan emerges onto the deck, stepping into utter pandemonium.  The bodies of the mortal attendants lie broken and shattered, punctured by numerous arrows.  Even as he watches, the impaled steersman slumps sideways against the wheel, sending the ship into a dangerous, long, looping dive.
-:20 [ST] Fore, near the prow of the ship, an enormous hole is blasted in the deck.  Above, on the strictly ornamental mast, stands the woman who had been on Mataru's lap, tall and lean, completely nude save for the blood splattering her, her eyes alight with a crazed energy.
-:20 [ST] A bow is in her hands, and long, curved claws are lashed to her wrists.  Her long braid drips with blood.
-:23 [ST] "Another little dragon come to play," the Anathema says, golden light gleaming around her. "Easy to kill as the first, I bet."
-:24 [Kalan] Kalan grins tightly, his stomach lurching the combination of drugs and sudden movement. "Anathema," he greets her, heart pounding. The guttering flames of his direlance flare to life again, wind whipping the flames into a bright, searing funnel. The wood is scorched and blackened beneath his feet. "You killed my cousin. I suppose I should thank you."
-:26 [Kalan] He leaps forward with a suddness that surprises her, propelled by the flame beneath his feet. There's a roar of sudden flames, the twisting flames of the direlance become a dragon's head, fangs bared. The firey dragon snakes forward and strikes, flames rushing and devouring like Heisheh himself.
-:27 [ST] "Anathema!" She laughs, high and long and crazed. "So you usurpers named us, so you will repent when I tear your heart out and offer it to the Unconquered Sun. I am �Lyta�, little dragon, and if you thank me for my mercy, know you will scream before you die."
-:30 [Kalan] In a blaze of essence he strikes her from five directions at once, flickering like flame to land in front of her, beside her, behind her all in the same moment. His blaze of flames engulfs them both.
-:31 [Kalan] "Feel the wrath of the Dragons, Anathema," he says without heat.
-:37 [ST] As the flames come flickering in, the Anathema called Lyta seems to blur, a scorching trail chasing her every motion as she sidesteps blow after blow.  Her anima, a great screaming phoenix, blazes brightly above her; a single drop of sweat runs down her face, cutting a trail through the blood, as she evades Kalan's most vicious attack.
-:37 [ST] "Felt their wrath before," she says smoothly, spinning to lash out with a fist. "I found it... lacking."
-:40 [Kalan] Kalan growls wordlessly at her, leaping aside with a lick of flame to let her fist pass next to him.
-:41 [Talek] The runes turn to green light and then the room goes mad as it tries to contain the whirlwind energy of a Stormwind Rider. Heroin pipes, wood, and the other detrius of the room all go flying. A spurt of blood hits the Slug in the face. Talek's green eyes turn to him as he shrugs an apology. Then the Sorceror is off. He grabs Malak and flies up the stairs, bursting out of the airship into the...
-:41 [Talek] ...skies above.
-:43 [Talek] He regards the battle below nervously. "Hop on?" he screams at Kalan
-:51 [ST] The skyship lurches more violently to one side, diving, the deck listing heavily to one side.  Sesus Nagezzar comes bounding up the stairs, throwing his considerable weight against the wheel, but he can barely even out the craft's flight.
-:52 [ST] "This thing," he says in a voice remarkably clear for all the opium and alcohol he's imbibed, "Is going to crash if you don't DO something!"
-:52 [Talek] At the last moment, Talek can't do it. The spell winks out. He mumbles s omething annoyed  in old realm.
-:53 [Talek] He bends down to consider the moaning figure of Malak, filled with arrows. With a word, he calls out to the wooden arrows, and they leap to him, withdrawing themselves painlessly. He places a hand on Malak's chest and keeps pushing, sending out wooden roots from his palm into the man's chest
-:54 [Kalan] Kalan stares up at the Stormwind Rider and looks at the crazed Anathema before him. He licks his lips. Just as he's about to decide whether he's going to run like a coward or stay and fight, the choice is taken out of his hands. He laughs. So it was to be death after all.
-:54 [Talek] They pull the skin taught, knit together his shreded entrails, and then disolve into blood to replace what he lost.
-:57 [ST] The Decadence, accelerating and dropping, knifes between a pair of tall columns and turns widely over the Imperial Manse.  Below, alarms begin to flare as the sensors detect the presence of a threat, and several towers rise and turn, revealing hidden Implosion Turrets.
-:57 [ST] Regent Fokuf is jerked rather alarmingly from his meditations as his entire bedchamber rises fifty feet in the air and rotates sideways, growing a pair of turrets.
-:58 [ST] "This is no pleasure barge!" Lyta crows. "When it strikes the city below, the broken engine will set off its Essence weaponry, and all will see the futility of defying the Unconquered Sun!"
-:00 [Kalan] "Mad bitch," Kalan says, fighting to keep his feet. He's cold now, totally controlled.The deck dips beneath their feet, deepending the list to the side, and the straining ropes holding barrels of wine lashed to the side begin to snap, one after another, rolling down the deck directly towards the combatants.
-:03 [Kalan] Kalan leaps atop one, rolling it beneath his feet with the grace of an acrobat, and then kicks another toward Lyta's feet. It smashes against the side as she dodges agilely aside, breaking open and leaving her standing in a growing puddle Veneef's sour red.
-:05 [Kalan] A spark drips from Kalan's direlance, igniting the gaping barrel, and it expodes in a sudden bright flash of light, sending fragments of broken barrel flying. Lyta shouts in rage, and Kalan's tongue of flame lashes out again,  striking at her joints.
-:08 [Kalan] A portion of the deck shattered by the explosion slides off the sinking ship, striking a crowded market stand and leaving mortals screaming and staring in confusion.
-:10 [ST] As the Dragonblood's blade comes darting in, Lyta blazes with golden essence, twining around her in preparation for a strike.  As the explosion shears off the deck behind her, she hops from splinter to to splinter in midair, deftly trying to dodge Kalan's attacks.
-:14 [ST] But it's not quite good enough; the bright spear opens a bloody gash from hip to breastbone, and Lyta screams in unbelieving, excruciating agony.
-:14 [ST] Even as she screams, she twists, her combo flaring into life around her, her hand alight with malevolently burning Essence.  Bunching her legs beneath her, she pounces, striking Kalan with all the force of a tiger.
-:18 [Talek] Talek raises his arms and screams out a prayer in Old Realm "Wood Dragon, lend me your strength!" His anima forms runes, and for a second, there is no response. Then green light surges towards him from every direction, and he explodes in a brilliant emerald bonfire. He screams
-:21 [ST] The attack merely sends a spray of sparks up from Kalan's breastplate, but the momentum of the Solar is too much. He's forced backwards, off his feet, with her atop him, her face twisted up in a bloody grin.
-:22 [ST] "I'll eat your heart �last�, my brave little dragon," Lyta says with deranged fondness.
-:23 [ST] The airship continues to descend; the turrets atop the Manse open fire.
-:25 [ST] Explosions blossom in the air nearby, shaking the ship violently, but none of them impact.  In the control room, Mnemon all but screams in frustration and tries to aim again. It's true that she doesn't have her mother's touch, but that's because the Scarlet Empress deliberately misaligned the sights on the control mechanism to insure only she could use them properly.
-:25 [ST] Parties in rooftop gardens are interrupted suddenly.  Slum children stare and point at the sky.
-:31 [Kalan] Kalan glares at the woman atop him, fire flickering as his anima ignites, and lifts his head to kiss her, his teeth tearing into her lip. A feint. As her fist slams down against his head, his hidden hand curls like a dragon's claw and plunges deep into her side.
-:33 [ST] Lyta gives a scream of inarticulate rage, her left hand darting down like a snake to block...
-:34 [ST] But her wound slows her motion; her bloody fingers curl around Kalan's wrist as he strikes her; she gives a piercing scream
-:37 [Kalan] He smiles as he tears a great gash in her side, his lips red with her blood.
-:37 [ST] Lyta shudders violently, her scream suddenly cut off with a tide of wet crimson.  It spills down her chin, her chest, onto Kalan's face. She shudders, her blazing anima fading, dying out.
-:38 [ST] "You can't," she moans softly. "I swore you'd never take it from me again, I swore, they promised... he... promised."
-:38 [ST] Her eyes roll back in her head; she slumps, dead.
-:42 [Kalan] Kalen shoves her savagely off him, disgust livid in his face. He raises a hand to wipe the blood from his face. He looks at poor bleeding Malak, and then he laughs.
-:44 [Kalan] With cool deliberation, he picks up his fallen Tongue of Flame and drives it through the Anathema's head, pulverizing it.
-:48 [Talek] As she dies, Talek's anima takes on the form of the great Wood Dragon, rising and roars in triumph. .
-:49 [Talek] The Dragon wraps itself around an Imperishable Pillar of the Imperial Manse and grabs hold tightly. The other end of the dragon remains with Talek, fastened firmly to the hurtling ship. Talek kneels, sobbing in pain as the Dragon grows taught and the ship stops in midair.
-:49 [Talek]   The Dragon bends and calmlyh lowers the ship down onto a shanty neighborhood that has grown up in the shadow of the great Manse
-:49 [Talek] The dragon fades into a shower of splinters, scratching the residents as they scramble for cover. Talek moans softly then passes out
-:51 [ST] The ship settles itself with a puff of dust, coming to a steady stop.  Sesus Nagezzar slumps against the wheel, breathing heavily.  He waves a plump hand at the fallen Lyta and the unconscious Talek.
-:51 [ST] "Not... bad..." he puffs.
-:52 [Kalan] Kalen watches in open-eyed amazement as the sorcerer calls the Wood Dragon. He grimaces, kicking the Anathema's head away from the body, and lands on the other side of the airship with a sodden thump atop another wine barrel. "Eat my heart, will you?" He sends a gout of flame streaking across the distance, exploding the wine barrel beneath and sending the head spinning away again.
-:53 [Kalan] The flames gutter and die, and he walks down next to Talek, and touches the side of his slender neck, looking for a pulse.
-:53 [ST] Matara staggers up from below, injured arm cradled closely to her body. A handful of others follow her up the stairs, most wounded in some way.
-:54 [ST] "The ones below are done," she says.  "I see..." her gaze takes in the scene. "I see things are well in hand up here. Who guided us in?"
-:56 [Kalan] "The sorcerer ...caught us," Kalen says. "He seems to be fine." He removes his hand, straightening up.
-:58 [ST] "Your cousin is injured, but alive..." Matara says, sinking heavily back against the railing. "Still... I fear Cynis was dealt a grievous blow this day.  Why here? Why in the City itself?"
-:59 [Kalan] "She was working with someone." He shrugs. "Someone doesn't like you."
-:59 [ST] "I'm a Cynis," she says, sliding down to a sitting position against the nearby railing. "We get used to that."
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-:11 [Talek] "His father wanted him to be a [[SorcerorDKDragons/Engineer]], but you know, I alwasy perferred medicine"
-:12 [Talek] "He hasn't exalted yet so there's no need to send him to the Heptagram just at the moment, so we've been training him here."
-:13 [Talek] "His tutor wanted to show him a good battlewound, but I said, Well where are you going to find a wound like that in the Imperial city?"
-:13 [Talek] "Then you came along and dropped the ship on this poor woman. Her husband didn't want to sell us the corpse, but what else was he going to do with it?  He needed t he money, anyway, now that his wife isn't around."
-:15 [Talek] Talek sits awkwardly as a young boy with brown hair streaked with green, perfect green eyes, and chestnut skin dissects a corpse which was impaled with a pole from a tent
-:15 [Talek] The boy looks deeply pained by the suffering of the corpse. His mother babbles on, her perfect black eyes sparkling like the sea. The boy's tutor directs the work.
-:16 [Talek] He can't be more than 11 or 12.
-:24 [ST] "Still, I've told him he has high hopes of being like his Uncle Talek if he works hard," Mnemon Cala says. "I'm sure the dragons will smile on him with his fine lineage."
-:24 [ST] She raps the boy sharply on the shoulder when he makes a poor cut, but he doesn't complain; it's rare that he ever gets to see his mother, as with all Dragon-Blooded in the Dynasty.
-:25 [ST] "I understand the city's been awash with celebrations for the lot of you, even the Slug... though they said he asked for his payment in women, not glory."
-:25 [Talek] Talek shifts from  side to side uncomfortably
-:26 [Talek] "Ah, yes, well he never took an Exalted spouse, and no amount of mortals can fill in for one of those."
-:26 [Talek] "Uh tell me, what's become of good old Grandma Mnemnon?"
-:27 [Talek] "I was hoping I might meet her."
-:28 [ST] "She's been busy," Cala says, smoothing her skirts absently. "She's been overseeing the maintenance of the Imperial Manse, and has had little time for personal meetings with any of us here, much less... visitors."
-:30 [Talek] "The  Imperial Manse? I heard you couldn't get in?"
-:32 [Talek] "If she needs help with the maintenance I would be happy to accompany her." he syas eagerly
-:33 [Talek] "If you can arrange it" he says hurriedly
-:33 [ST] "Don't they teach you anything at the Heptagram?" She pauses to think. "No, no I suppose they wouldn't... the Manse has many layers. The outermost areas are filled with guests. Mnemon works below, but," she casts a glance at the working child. "Such things are best left unmentioned."
-:33 [Talek] "by the way, you should really give him lessons from an Exalted Sorceror occasionally, its so difficult to learn just from mortals."
-:34 [Talek] "Well. If you could arrange it."
-:34 [ST] "I do not have the authority. If you seek an audience with her, do so at your own risk, with your own name. Your recent... exploits may gain you some notoriety in that regard."
-:36 [Talek] He nods, annoyed.
-:37 [ST] There is a sharp rap at the door, and Amber, the slave, pokes her head in.  The ritual scarification from her Threshold tribe has faded to a mere pink; it merely makes her look more exotic.
-:37 [ST] "A message for Master Talek," she reports. "The Sl- honorable Sesus Nagezzar requests his presence at the Shining Gardens for the noon meal."
-:38 [Talek] "Oh, yes, of course, I'd be honored!"
-:39 [Talek] he leaps up and adresses the  poor, damned kid. "Well I must be going. send me a messanger if you everneed anything. Goodluck kid."
-:40 [Talek] Poor kid, he thinks as he walks out. Most of them don't exalt anyway, just end up growing up crazy for no reason.
-:40 [ST] Cala presses her lips together, clearly wanting to criticize Talek, but unwilling to speak poorly of the Chosen of the Dragons to a mere mortal, even her own son.
-:40 [ST] "Pay attention to what you're doing!" she snaps, turning her frustration upon him.
-----
-:44 [Kalan] "Their fourth form is sloppy," Cathak Kalan comments to his cousin and classmate, Cathak Egret. He sits in the shade under a palisade, in the crisp Cathak encampment within the Cathak Manse. Here the elite trained.
-:44 [Kalan] Egret is silent. These are her troops, and she'd hardly addressed a word to him in the two hours he'd been watching them.
-:45 [Kalan] "They raise their spears too high. A good firm blow would knock them down." He sips the cool pear juice she had provided him. He had been strictly forbidden alcohol at home after his accident the previous week.
-:47 [Kalan] Egret stares into the distance, face smooth and untroubled. She is dressed in armor of brilliant red and orange. "Speak to me, damn  you," he says at last, voice low. "I killed an Anathema yesterday, I fought her alone, in single combat- "
-:49 [Kalan] Zip zigs erratically about the sweating soldiers, as they repeat their flawed form- again. The elemental singes a man's elbow as it passes, and he yelps, knocking his spear against the legionaire beside him, who staggers back against another....
-:50 [Kalan] Neither Dragonblooded are amused.
-:50 [ST] "Kill a dozen more," she says tightly, watching Zip's display. "And you may come close to washing away the shame you have brought upon our family."
-:52 [Kalan] Kalan's lips thin. "I fought for this family, this empire, my whole life-"
-:54 [ST] "You betrayed it. I feel that you will again. We all do." Egret watches the fire spirit with suspicious eyes. "Just because a snake has potent venom does not mean you should hold it to your breast.  To the contrary. You should handle it... most carefully."
-:00 [Kalan] "One - mistake- " Kalan's breath is short and harsh. He is red-faced and smoldering, this man who had been fabled for his icy demeanor. He stands, glaring at his cousin. There is not much, however to be said, so he brings his boot stomping down on her elegant, fragile wooden chair. It splinters down the middle and he kicks it aside. His lips curl as  he surveys her troops. "You can hardly run a drill, Egret. You won't find me here again."
-:01 [Kalan] He whistles, and Zip dashes back to his whirl about his head, babbling incomprehensibly in the language of fire elementals. A legionaire shouts something coarse and it giggles.
-:02 [ST] Egret goes sprawling, her head snapping up to regard the Kalan. As her soldiers take a step uncertainly towards them, she holds up a hand.
-:03 [ST] "He's not worth it," she tells her troops. It is a major breech of Dragon-Blooded etiquette, but she is incensed enough not to care. "This one isn't worth dirtying your hands. He's lost the path of the Dragons."
-:07 [Kalan] "The path of the Dragons," Kalan says, scornfully. "You will bloody your hands with your kinsmen's blood and say �I�-" They stare at each, hatred livid in the air between them, they who had once been Sworn Brothers.
-:07 [Kalan] He turns to leave with the shreds of his dignity, Zip mumuring supportively.
-:08 [ST] He's scarcely gone a hundred paces when he bumps into a terrified house servant.  He seems to cringe away from Kalan's very touch.  The servants don't know what he's done, don't have the slightest clue, but they can sense a Dragon-Blooded shunning well enough.
-:09 [ST] "A... a message for you, Master Kalan," the servant blurts. "Sesus Nagezzar requests your presence at the Shining Gardens for the noon meal."
-:10 [Kalan] "Does he." He glances back at his cousin, lip curling. "Well, I won't disappoint him."
-:12 [ST] "Don't disappoint us either, cousin," Egret says sharply. "Malak is still sleeping off your last mistake."
-:14 [Kalan] He regards her with naked contempt, and the hundred Cathak legionaires stir uneasily. "Come Zip. Let's find more congenial company."
-----
-:18 [ST] The Shining Gardens are located atop one of the tallest buildings in the Old City, formerly an outlying watchtower of the fortress here.  A calm, relaxed atmosphere prevails, and the greenery completely hides one pavilion from another. Servants come and go silently as the wind, and the air is only disturbed by the soft cries of the peacocks that stalk through the greenery.
-:19 [ST] Sesus Nagezzar sits across from Kalan and Talek at a low, round table, sprawled across the earth like a toadstool.  Cynis Matara is also in attendance, her left arm still in a silken sling. She looks very tired.
-:24 [Talek] "Is your arm ok?"
-:24 [Kalan] Kalan sits stiffly, Cathak, it seems, to the core. He is dressed in the polished red jade of his house, every buckle in place, and he cannot quite hide his disgust for the Slug's appearance.
-:25 [ST] "It is fine," she says, a trifle distractedly. "Nothing time won't heal."
-:25 [ST] "So, I suppose you're wondering why I've summoned you here," the Slug says, picking away at a confection atop the table.
-:27 [Talek] "I had supposed you were going to send us into more life and death battles againist Anathema"
-:30 [ST] "Perhaps," Nagezzar replies, steepling his fingers. "Needless to say, the financial and ahh... genealogical damage suffered in the recent attack by the Cynis means that they are less inclined to organize the Wyld Hunt than previously stated.  Most are in favor of keeping assets here, instead of chasing rumors in the Threshold."
-:30 [ST] "I will thus be assuming a... more robust role in financially backing this Hunt."
-:30 [ST] "However, I do not believe the Cynis chose poorly when they sought to recruit you."
-:31 [ST] At this Matara bows her head, her expression unreadable.
-:33 [Kalan] Kalan's lips curl at some private joke. "Why do you assume we're eager to go?" he asks with idle curiosity, holding up a delicate slice of meat for Zip to roast.
-:34 [Talek] Talek nods
-:36 [ST] "You volunteered for the Wyld Hunt, my dear Cathak Kalan, and now you would deny the opportunity?  As for you, Talek.. you've voiced no objections to the service... your Heptagram instructors even suggested you would be well-suited to the task..." The fat man smiles. Perhaps it is supposed to be disarming.
-:37 [ST] "I cannot force you, nor would think to. But the simple reality is that if there will be a Wyld Hunt to secure the Realm's remaining holdings in the East, it will be based in the Cynis satrapy, and funded by such unsavory characters as myself. If you are unwilling to accept that..."
-:37 [ST] He nods at Kalan, and something glimmers in his eye.
-:37 [ST] "Well, there's always service to your family, isn't there?"
-:38 [Talek] "My instructors never much cared for me."
-:39 [Talek] "My attempts to study  Lunar shapeshifting were not taken well, and my tendacy to clean up my mistakes with Sesselja and mortal surgery even less so."
-:40 [Talek] "Perhaps they wish to kill me off? In any event, the East is lost already, no?"
-:41 [Kalan] Anger stirs in Kalan's eyes, but he keeps it banked. He knows. The Cathak were not as good at keeping secrets as they wished they were. "Well, what is there to go on living for here, after all," he acknowledges. "And what better way to win reknown for House Cathak." He salutes Nagezzur with a wine glass, and swallows it in a single gulp.
-:41 [Kalan] "It is only our duty."
-:41 [ST] "Parts of the East," Matara says stiffly. "We still hold our satrapy. There is still a chance-"
-:41 [ST] "Matara will be accompanying the Hunt as well," the Slug says blithely. "Her family is rather... displeased."
-:44 [Talek] Talek glances nervously at his companion. "And? Anyone else?"
-:45 [ST] "A few more offers are on the table, but have not yet been aceptaed.  You will know when you arrive in Kushan... should you choose to accept, of course."
-:46 [ST] He leans back on the pillows of his own flesh, seemingly content.
-:49 [Kalan] "Of course we will accept. We are Dragonblooded. Some of us remember what that means." He claps Talek on the shoulder. "What better way to die?"
-:51 [Talek] "You will remember that I come from a small and insignificant branch of the Mnemnon family."
-:51 [ST] "Yes, I'm sure you do," the Slug takes the casual insult with practiced aplomb.
-:52 [Talek] "If I do this thing for you, you will help me in securing a suitable spouse. If I die in your service, you will do the same for my sister."
-:52 [Talek] "And"
-:54 [Talek] He says the last with a gulp. "I will be seeking an audience with our Matriarch, Mnemnon. I will have to mention this to her, out of obligation"
-:55 [ST] "I'm sure I can find someone. I have quite the network of favors saved up, you know," the Slug leans back, sighing. "And if you think Mnemon does not know of the Hunt's resumption... well, you underestimate her, and that is folly."
-:57 [Talek] He smiles, and says with a touch of bitterness  "Auntie Mnemnon knows everything. Every Mnemnon child knows that."
-:59 [ST] "Indeed." He looks less than happy about this.
-:01 [Talek] "Nobody goes on a suicide mission for free."
-:01 [Talek] He looks to his companions. "So, when do we leave?"
-:03 [ST] "Oh, my boy, it's hardly a suicide mission... and if nothing else about me is true, know that I am a man of means, and liberal with it..." in response to Talek's question, he adds: "I have chartered a ship to sail to Kushan in two days' time, where you will receive further briefings on the situation and meet the rest of your Hunt.  I cannot promise that you will be well-supplied on the ground, so bring what articles of war you can."
-:07 [Kalan] Cathak Kalan gives him a brief, flickering salute.
-:08 [Talek] "I'm sure Auntie will have some suggestions on this front."
-----
-:18 [Talek] With great trepidation, Talek borrows one of Mnemnon Cala's servants and sends them to the Imperial Manse
-:19 [Talek] He tries to find the plainest servant he can, and drills them on the proper message
-:19 [Talek] The poor boy is scared half out of his mind, which is, as Talek wastes on time impressing upon him, half as scared as he'll be if fucks anything up
-:20 [ST] The servant returns an hour or so later, bearing a simple message. Mnemon will see Talek this evening, an hour after the late meal, in her office, for some few minutes, in honor of his recent victory over the Anathema.
-:22 [Talek] Talek dolls up and arrives percisely on time. After a long argument, he succeds on leaving Henry with his young student, who takes to the monkey instantly. Unnerving how much he had in common with that kid
-:24 [ST] Talek is ushered quickly inside, and led down winding halls full of glimmering essence sconces and elaborate chandeliers.  The odd automata trundles by on some drudge job, and once a jeweled metallic dragonfly flits by.  Silent servants dart back and forth, and guards with shock lances stand at every intersection.
-:24 [ST] At last, Talek is left by himself before the ornate, jewel-encrusted door of Mnemon's chamber.
-:24 [Talek] He knocks.
-:26 [ST] "Come in," Mnemon says, her voice low and commanding. THe door seems to open of its own accord.
-:27 [Talek] "Grandmother" he says, a bit awed in spite of all his power
-:27 [Talek] "I am honored to meet you. I hoped I might ask you a few questions?"
-:30 [ST] Mnemon turns as you enter. She is seated behind a gateway table, idly fingering the pieces, and seems to have adopted a deliberately casual air.  Her hair hangs loose, her feet are bare.  She wears a cream-colored gown inlaid with pearls, its long sleeves and modest neckline obscuring much of her flesh.
-:30 [ST] As Talek steps into the room, he catches a whiff of brimstone, the whickering of distant wings, a faint, keening cry.
-:31 [ST] THe room is full of dematerialized demons, crowding against each other so thickly that there is barely room for them to move.
-:31 [ST] Mnemon doesn't seem bothered at all.
-:31 [ST] "Greetings... Talek.  One of..." it takes her a moment. "Nehara's, are you?"
-:31 [Talek] "Uh, yes, her eldest. Her eldest Exalted"
-:32 [Talek] His poor, bitter brother.
-:34 [ST] "Heptagram... a worthy area of study. I was the greatest they had ever seen, you know." Her green eyes glitter. "I still am.  But I do not want to demean your accomplishments. Your victory over the Anathema and the rescue of the Decadence is the talk of the City. You've brought honor to your house."
-:34 [ST] "Now..." her gaze seems to grow predatory. "What would you have of me?"
-:34 [Talek] "A few questions." he asks "if you don't mind."
-:35 [ST] "My time is valuable," she says sharply (not that her tone was particularly warm to begin with), "Especially since moth- the Empress's disappearance. I have pressing duties."
-:37 [Talek] He pushes forward  unapologetically. "And I need to learn." He hesitates "Why do you keep so many bound demons about you?"
-:38 [ST] Her eyes narrow, the corner of her mouth curling up. "Utility. Protection. Pleasure. Would you care to test them?"
-:40 [Talek] "Test?"
-:41 [ST] Mnemon shrugs, her barb going unanswered, but doesn't seem to relax. "Your other questions, child."
-:42 [Talek] "You have heard, I know, of my experiments with shapechanging."
-:42 [Talek] "I know you have, some of the reports bore your handwriting. Besides, there are only four sorcerors other than myself have studied the matter in such depths."
-:44 [ST] "Yes, a little unorthodox, but for one's House, one should be prepared to test the boundaries of... propriety. Your point?"
-:44 [Talek] "Are they a path to power?  Some sorcery is more potent than other magicks - you've done things with these demons, I know, that one can not do just with Sorcery."
-:44 [Talek] "Your professional opinioin. Could they prove powerful, or are my efforts better spent elsewhere?"
-:46 [ST] "The will of the sorceror counts for much, but there may be some limitations even our Exalted forms cannot transcend... the vile sorcery of the Anathema, for example. You will have to seek the answers for yourself."
-:47 [Talek] "I do not ask if it can be done. I know it can be done. Is it worth doing?"
-:50 [ST] "Power has its price." She reaches her hand back to smooth her hair, a deliberate gesture.  The sleeve slides up her arm, revealing a complex pattern of freshly scabbed cuts and old scars. "That too, you must decide for yourself. Sometimes for others. Suppose... suppose I had been told that I could gain great power by cutting the heart from my grandchild's grandchild's chest." She stands up, taking a step towards Talek.
-:50 [ST] She is not a tall woman, yet seems somehow imposing.
-:51 [ST] "Suppose I had accepted his pathetic summons for just such a purpose. Suppose I had allowed him to come to see me, alone, deep within the Manse, where my word is law."
-:52 [ST] She steps closer, running a lacquered fingernail across Talek's chest. "Suppose I had been told I should bed him instead.  Would I do either? �Both?�"
-:52 [ST] She steps away at last, smiling.
-:52 [Talek] Talek shudders visibly
-:52 [ST] "Answer the questions you raise carefully."
-:53 [Talek] "With those demons, I suppose you could do what you like."
-:53 [Talek] "Oh, I see."
-:54 [Talek] "Problematic," he agrees with his unstated moral
-:54 [ST] "Anything else? The hour grows late."
-:56 [Talek] He shrugs. "If there is anything you think I ought to do, I hope you will tell me."
-:56 [Talek] He looks up, bold. "I was going to ask you
-:58 [Talek] "If you ever got saner. But I was afraid to ask. Now I think we never do. Isn't that interesting?"
-:59 [Talek] He stands and bows.
-:59 [ST] "Advice? Oh, plenty of people ask me for advice, but so few take it."
-:59 [ST] "Simple, Talek. Get on my good side, by any means possible, and stay there."
-:02 [Talek] "Well, you know how to find me."
-:03 [Talek] "I can not offer you gifts worth anything - but tell me when you need something."
-:03 [Talek] He bows. " I have taken up to much of your time already."
-:03 [ST] "You have," she smiles, but it doesn't take the sting out of her words. "And I will. Just see that you do it for me, as a good boy should. The servants will show you out."
-:04 [ST] The immaterial demons around her cackle softly at the edge of hearing.
-:07 [Talek] He closes the door, thanks the servants, walks out of the manse, down the hall, and sleeps soundly, shudders in horror for a minute, and then sleeps soundly, more comfortable in his madness.
-----
-:12 [Kalan] Kalan sits in his grandfather's study scratching out a letter. A neat stack of paper sits by his right hand. He sets down his pen with a sigh after he scrawls his name at the bottom. His affairs had been set in order. He could die at his family's convenience now.
-:12 [Kalan] He smiles bitterly.
-:12 [Kalan] His farewell to his wife had been cold and strained. They had never had very much to do with one another; Kalan's duties had taken him too often to the Threshold. Nevertheless, he had once imagined that given the chance, they could be friends. He'd thought of her on cold nights by the fire as his mortal soldiers moaned to one another about sweethearts at home.
-:12 [Kalan] He'd been fool enough to think he could trust her. Had wanted to trust her.
-:12 [Kalan] The soft red light of the fading day shines through the curtains , rendering the room hazy . The light gleams like blood on the edge of the swords crossed over the mantle.
-:12 [Kalan] There's a soft knock on the door. "Come," Kalan commands, his old authority returned to his voice.
-:12 [Kalan] His daughter slips in the door, all her childhood awkwardness returned to her in her father's presence. She looks very like him; the same glossy black hair and curve of the jaw, the same stubborn nose. Zip hums comfortingly by her ear.
-:12 [Kalan] She was a soldier now, Kalan supposed. He heard she even had her own Brotherhood. She still looks like little more than a child to him, dressed up in her mother's armor.
-:12 [Kalan] "I called you here to bid you farewell," Kalan says. It sounds abrupt, too cold, even to himself. He had never known what to say to her.
-:13 [ST] "Why?" she says, not meeting his gaze. "Why would you think I cared?"
-:16 [Kalan] "I am your father." Cathak Kalan's voice is steady and cool. "It doesn't matter whether you care. You will be living under the shadow of my career for the rest of your life."
-:17 [Kalan] "Besides, I wanted to ....see you again, before I left."
-:18 [ST] "Mother has told me as much... I'm all too aware of that.  And why would you want to see me?" She stares at the floor. "You knew it would be like this."
-:26 [Kalan] "Yes," says Kalan, harshy. He could not ask her for her affection, having ignored her all her life. He takes a step toward her, and reaches to take a curl of her long hair between two fingers. "Proprieties need to observed. I ...need to say goodbye. Is that so terrible?"
-:29 [Kalan] There's no softness in his voice. He says the words as coolly as always, but there's the faintest hint of a tremor on the last word. It's the closest thing to weakness she's ever seen in him.
-:29 [ST] "You've made it clear what you think of propriety," she says sharply. She doesn't back away when he touches her, but her stiff posture is almost worse. "I looked up to you. I idolized you. I wanted to be just like you. And now... I wonder if the same treachery and cowardice runs in my veins. I wish you wouldn't touch me." She is a good child: still, obedient, well-spoken.
-:30 [ST] "But I will say that parting with you is far from terrible."
-:35 [Kalan] Kalan smiles faintly at that, his hand dropping. "You are certainly her mother's daughter. You need not be ashamed of that, at least." Zip keens softly by her ear, a soft, drawn out wail.
-:36 [ST] "I hope so, father." She says stiffly. "I hope so."
-:36 [Kalan] Moved by a sudden impulse he can't explain, he takes her by the shoulders and draws her closer, planting a kiss lightly on her forehead before she can struggle away. He pretends not to notice her shudder.
-:37 [ST] "Thank you," she says with forced, rote memorization.
-:37 [Kalan] "Farewell Daughter," he tells her. "I'm not unique you know," he says suddenly, as she turns to move stiffly  to the door. "Or even unusual. Only unlucky."
-:38 [Kalan] With a strange venom, he tells her, "You'll learn that, as you climb the ladder."
-:39 [ST] "Father..." she says back over her shoulder. "Do not disgrace us against the Anathema, too."  It's the closest she will come to a positive remark, in the wake of his shame and his latest assault.
-:42 [Kalan] He watches her go, eyes burning. "Be more honorable than I was," he says at last, long after she has gone.  He collapses into a chair, and Zip coos by his ear, zipping around in imitation of a portly general they both know.
-:43 [Kalan] "Damn that woman." There had been no need to tell his daughter of his shame as well. He smiles sourly at the little elemental's antics. "Just you and me now, eh?"
-:44 [Kalan] Zip babbles something high-pitched and incomprehensible, darting around his head.
-----
-<i>ST's Notes: The first session got off to a real bang. Matara is a little different here than she would appear later, as I had no idea she would be a recurring NPC. Still, signs of her nature are clearly visible. I ran Lyta as written in the Dawn Castebook, which is effectively one hell of a nerf, but the PCs' relative ease at dealing with her was a sign that I was going to have to work to challenge them. I loved Talek's solution to the crashing airship, and the family scenes that both PCs touched upon.</i>

Difference between revisions of "DKDragons/SessionOne"

Latest revision as of 18:23, 27 June 2012

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