CrownedSun/WWSessionTwo
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The Second Session (The Gathering of the Circle)
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A hard night was passed routing those Hobgoblins that had refused to retreat, reclaiming some of the town from the Wyld's Children. The Newborn Circle then found itself, exhausted, back in the Fortress Courtyard of the towns ruler, the Princess Lenore. Exhausted by their endeavors, it was here that they were approached by one of the Princesses' servants. The Princess, they were informed, had heard of their trials in the favor of her city and was granting them an audience -- upon the morrow, when they had rested in the rooms she had given them. While quite spartan as things go, the rooms were as impressive as any the small frontier town had to offer and these heroes slept the night dreaming foreign dreams of time long past.
Though, Jemas only did so after spending some time threading the floor near his door with caltrops and trip-wires.
A single guard stood outside their door, uncomfortable at having been assigned to such a task -- especially for the benefit of demons. Yet, if he was perhaps not purely motivated, there were others even more angry at the intrusion of such fell demons in their city. One of these, a veteran Archer upon the wall and a hero named Sri Raj, sought perhaps to do something about this intrusion. Throughout the dark of the night, he slowly cultviated followers into his own small Hunt -- his own words and firm drink to burn away their fears and worries, convince them to slay those whohad been given sanctuary by their hostess. Thus, in the first hours of the morning, when he had at last convinced the Guards to stand at his back the small and rather humble 'Wyld Hunt' moved through the still darkened corridors of the Fortress.
Sri Raj and the guard conversed for a bit, the Archer using trickery to get the rather trusting guard to move aside... Until, that is, the drunk soldiers came ambling up the corridor -- blithely ranting about the demons they would kill with such volume as to awaken the slumbering Barbarian and bathing Fox. The still of the morning was then, shortly, interrupted by the quick responce of a nimble Lookshy fighter and a hulking Barbarian Warrior. In the span of a few moments, the battle was over -- Forsath wincing in pain at an arrow that had lodged itself in his chest, but everyone otherwise for the best. When at last the quiet once again descended, the door to Jemas' room once again opened -- the young thief asking if everyone was safe now, recieving a bit of sarcasm in reply.
Nor was he the only one to have overheard the sounds of battles, without participating -- for on that same quiet morning, a young Diplomat from Nechara named Callandra had come as well to pledge her service to the Princess Lenore. Moving through the small passages of the castle, she came upon the gathered scene -- the unconscious or dead bodies of guards laid out on the hall, amidst three young men...one of them with the glowing symbol of the Twilight Caste upon his brow. Introductions exchanged, secrets whispered, the four decided that such a meeting could not be a coincidence and decided to go to their audience with the Princess Lenore together.
The Audience was short, and to the point. The Seventh Legion, and it's Immaculate worshipping Dragon-Blooded hosts, were coming to respond to the crys of aid that the Princess had issued. The city of Eastend would not be safe for them, soon, and they had to leave -- yet, the Princess Lenore was not without her wiles, and did manage to talk the gathered Solars into serving her even though they were forced to leave. "Find from where the Fair Folk issue forth," she told them. "Bring that information to me, and you will be rewarded handsomely."
A small taste of that reward in their hands, silver enough to wet the apetite, the four left for the city in an attempt to follow the trail of the Black Rider and his Faerie Host. Yet, before they did even leave the city, Forsath found himself set upon by Cinnae -- yelling after him, entertaining him to destroy her master and free her from slavery with his new found power. The two did argue through the entire city, the group sparing no time to talk with her and she following after. Entreaties turned into insults, into screaming matches as the young blonde whore grew increasingly frustrated -- until, in a bite of anger, Forsath grabbed the young woman up in his arms and carried her off. "Come on, then. You want to be free, then free you'll be. You won't like it."
17 wheels, he had told her, using a measure of distance common to his Tribe, that was when he would release her -- then she would be free. She relented, letting herself be carried, even as the group walked into the deepest heart of the forest. Fox and his Worg-mount followed the trail as best as he could, Forsath being a bit distracted by his load to track-properly. The going was easy, the woods well-tended to and natural seeming, and as they walk the group talked and discussed themselves a bit more. Cinnae occasionally trying to talk to Forsath, who mostly ignored her until her persistent questioning ("You going to let me down yet?", "your going to regret not killing Helmor, you know...") finally got on her nerves. While she'd cooperated so far, the massive Barbarian asking for a span of rope made her somewhat uncomfortable, and she started to struggle and attempt to break free...launching herself from Forsaths' grasp just as he had his rope and was moving to do -- whatever he had intended to do with it.
It was at this time yet fate intervened once again; Ozmathon Cahlash, chosen by Lunar mere months hence, had been driven into the East following a bit of lore he had learned about his daughter and the one who had taken her. The information proved useless and a false lead, but on his wanderings throughout the region he ran close enough to the small gathered Solars to hear their rather noisy passage -- coming up close to them just as Callandra swore Cinnae to an Eclipse-caste Oath, the golden sigils of Sunlight shining to his eyes, causing him to recognize their nature.
Thus, upon seeing the Grand Vizier of Nechara in the company of the Solars, Ozmathon trusted to his status as a retired Necharan general to protect him, and revealed his nature. Two brilliant yellow, catlike eyes shone from beneath the shadows of his brow like hypnotic mirrors. Silver tattoos traced themselves upon his flesh, lit by a gentle silver glow. He gathered what information he could on their task, and quickly offered his assistance - but only if the Solars would assist him, in finding and recovering his lost daughter. It was not long before the old general took stock of the power structure amongst the Solars, and chose one whom he thought would be best fit to instruct the trade of leadership to. Settling his horse's trot adjacent to Fox's immense riding wolf, he began to quietly offer his advice to the Zenith. And so they all rode on.
Now, only one remains.
- Onward to /WWSessionThree
