SongsoftheAge
There is a riddle carved on a signpost in the ruins of the imperial capitol. It cannot be read close by, as not even an exalt can survive the mystic energies that rage through that site of destruction for long and only the dedication of Dynastic scholars with telescopes has been able to discover it's words.
- On a cold, burning moutain peak far beneath the ground, a delicate, lucious slip of a girl painted a circle and sign on the ceiling of the world with her crone-like hands. Into it she put a feather, a stone, a candle flame and a peice of glass. She asked no questions, and the circle answered: Possibly, where there is a Sun in the sky. She howled in dispairing exstacy and went away; The Stone sank into the heavens, the Feather became a bird and flew home, the Flame became an ash, going from cold to hot, and the glass remained, with an answer carved into it's surface. Ten thousand demons laughed at the answer, but none of them understood it, the words being far to simple for their inhuman minds to perceive properly.
There is another riddle scribed into stones at the borders of the world, often haunted by the fae - but the stones keep the wyld itself at bay for leagues around them, and even if this island of stability becomes engulfed by madness for years at a time, it allways returns. It reads:
- On a blazeing pit's bottom attop heaven, a ancient master painted the circle again on the depths of an endless abyss with his newborn infants hands, and put into it a handfull of stars, five drops of dragons blood, a blazeing light, a peice of silver, a trinket and the dream of a peice of glass. He asked it a question; The circle did not answer, and demons filled his ears with lies. The stars faded from the sky, the blazeing light was put out, the dragons blood soaked into the earth, the silver tarnished, the trinket vanished, and the glass was only a dream. Truth is a precious thing, and like all precious things, fragile. It cannot be held or known, only made.
In hundreds of augury over thousands of years, one question has often returned to those who are exalted, and it is this:
- Where will you draw your circle, and what will you do with it?
In creation there are millions of songs - some say, as many songs as there are gods. Some of those who do say also that as long as the song of something exists, it remains in the world, and that a new song allways creates a new thing, but when songs are forgotten, things cease to be. Those who claim to know truth often dispute this tale, but those who study birds tell us that the cheif duty of the songbird is to remember a song, and to pass it on, and that same duty is given to each of the gods.
Sometimes a story is only a story. And sometimes it is not.
On a certain day in a certain place in the scavenger lands, certain people were of the Exalted, and met in a certain place of no particular importance before they met there. Perhaps not all of them were exalted before that day. Perhaps they were not entirely friends. Perhaps it was only circumstance and happenstnce that lead them together.
As the God Unyami, who makes dreams of luck is said to have claimed at his execution: There is no luck in or out of the world, only upon it.
Some say we do not know what this means.
Those people who met on that day may dissagree.
The Songs of the Age will be a mixed splat exalted game for starting characters of some Destiny. You will have the potential to save - or possibly destroy - the world by your actions, as you grow.
All of creation may be out to either kill you, join you or use you: your enemies may be leigion. Those willing to be heroic may find that their allies are equally so.
It will also be a story about the people you play and the people you meet, with as much mysticism and mythology as I can pack into it. Expect to travel to the far corners of creation, fight monsterous enemies, meet - and possibly steal - wonders of the world, human and otherwise, and gather a reputation. This game will allow you to change the world, if you play your cards right. Cannonical game setting characters can be disposed, mocked, killed, or proped up to the height of gods by PC actions. In short, I plan on makeing sure we all have as much fun as possible.
Expect various brands of heroism to be rewarded in story, which is to say that being heroic will generally -not- get you shafted in the long run, and heroic plotlines will be pursued and embellished. Conversely, expect being anti-heroic to get you thrown down a mountain side or two by life before any kind of reward materializes; The path of the anti-hero is *hard*
Character Creation rules can be found under GamlainCreationRules
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