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 Beware the Anathema. We know we live in an era of pain and suffering, surrounded by chaos and turmoil. How many neighbors have we lost to hunger? How many sons and daughters to disease? How many husbands and wives to war? How much have we lost since the Scarlet Empress has left us? But do not give into despair and sorrow, do not fall for their lies. Their words are honeyed, but their deeds and character are hollow and transparent. That much is obvious, the scared sutras tell us so. But it is easy to forget and tell ourselves other wise, a man dying of thirst can fool himself to believing quicksand an oasis. So it falls on us of the Immaculate Order to remind you of this. Once long ago, they ruled all of Creation. Once all nations united under a single banner. Once, their was a world filled with even more terrors and despair then our own. The Demon Kings killed their subjects for sport, unleashed pox and plague on the populace in the name of progress, and then taxed and robbed their subjected to the point of starvation and perpetual poverty while they lived in palaces made of gold and jade, filling their stomachs with too much food to hold. It was only when the Dragon Blooded, the rightful masters of Creation rose up, that our ancestors have ever knew peace or the basic dignity of life. It is no coincidence it is upon their return that we have lost so much. The only question is, was it our sin that their return or is it a divine test to prove our worthiness. In either case, the end result is the same. We must show our moral fortitude. We must oppose them all in manners and in every field. We must not be deceived. Beware the Anathema" Latest sermon of Grandmaster Mada Ermana of the Immaculate Order, Temple of the free city of Led Kamen The Scarlet Empress has been missing for over a decade, the Bull of the North has defeated, humiliated, and nearly crippled the Realm's forces in the North, and worst of all for them you, the Anathema to their detractors and the ignorant or the Solar Exalted for those who either know more or are swayed to their cause, have made their return. Kingdoms are falling, new empires prop up under the banner of the Unconquered Sun, and the Fair Folk and others are taking advantage of the instability to bring about their own goals. It is not in the nature of any of the Solar Exalted to let this stand, for whatever else you are, you are a hero. You saw the others and a city in your dreams. Led Kamen, jewel of the Northwest. On the very outskirts of the Realm, it is no longer even a satrap and just pays a small tribute every two years and let's the Immaculate Order preach and pontificate in an attempt to convert the masses, while their Goddesses and Gods are worshiped directly and their Queen Fakal bows to no one. Though for ones as hunted as yourselves this is still a little too close for comfort. A city built on the top of a mountain and the ruins of a empire lost to time, in the middle of the northwest sea, it's foundation and location make it rich in gold, gems, and trade. Until the recent turbulence it wanted little and needed even less. Even with pirates, the Bull of the North destabilizing the region, and the ever present threat of the Scarlet Empire or the Immaculate Order overthrowing their Queen and religion, it remains more stable then most places in Creation. What good or change you could make you do not know. But you do know you'll meet the others, whoever they are there and you are drawn to them. You know something important is going to go down, and that with you there...Creation itself will change.  Hey, I know it's not officially out but I thought I'd try my hand at running Exalted 3rd Edition IRC game. It would be standard character gen but I'm adding a couple of homerules. It's either STR or Dex to attack/parry You do not need to buy a merit for MA, instead using brawl/melee/archery where sensible to buy the MA charms. Maybe others as the game progresses. There's no such thing as experience points - you advance your character with bonus points. Generally, 1bp = 2xp if you need to convert on the fly for the purpose of some later rule, so the standard per-session BP reward might be 2, 3, 2, 3... (or just 3 if you're feeling generous). This is obviously going to be my first time running it and probably yours playing it, so we'll try to solve any problems as we discover them. As for what I'm looking for in a character you just Exalted in the past two years or so, and been having prophetic dreams. Otherwise don't be a creep and go hog wild. I'll be in #allunderheaven on IRC and in here if you have any questions! Time and day to be decided once a consensus pops up in the thread NutritiousSnack fucked around with this message at 04:33 on Feb 28, 2015 |
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Feb 27, 2015 23:23
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Little Mountain Singing, Opera performer and Warrior for Truth and Justice!  Character Sheet Little Mountain Singing does not often speak of his childhood, not of his mundane existence to reasonably privileged merchant parents, 'nor of the classes that bored him in his youth or the slow start to his training as a musician and entry into a Satrapy school of music. What he does talk of is the first time a fellow student was impressed by his performance, of the first time someone fell in love with his voice, and the tremendous surge of power and wonder at an audience on its feet, cheering his name. Those joys are still very much present in his life, but much has changed from his humble beginnings. While he was a talented singer, he scowls at the suggestion that it was talent alone that got him where he is. When he was growing into adulthood, he was told he had 'too little stage presence' to perform as anything but an extra, 'too little physique'. He set himself to physical improvement with a fury and a focus rarely seen, and when he returned to stage nearly half again brawnier and with a deep profound richness of speech and breath born of martial training, he quickly rose to the top of his performing class, though his teachers despaired at his near inability to read. The Dragonblooded did not debase themselves on stage, so Little Mountain's talent and dedication opened up a world of glories unknown to most other mortals. It went right to his head. It filled him with a powerful joy, or something like joy. At the very least, it quelled the strange absence in his heart, and so he pursued wealth, fame, women, and recognition with a singleminded dedication. And then one of his fellow performers Exalted as one of the Anathema, and suddenly his entire life turned upside down. He was caged, imprisoned for heresy, interrogated, tortured for 'hiding the Anathema'. There, in that hell, he found pain worse than some emotional void, and was confronted with the pain of others. All the wealth a mortal might dream of could not fill his heart, but somehow this terror and pain helped it fill itself. He became angry, furious at his mistreatment. Even if he was a bit of an rear end in a top hat, what he was enduring was still an injustice, and all his friends and fellow members of the troupe were caught in it as well. With the dedication he had placed towards his musical skills, he worked on an escape. It might have worked, if he hadn't been so unsubtle about it. It would have been a complete failure, save for the intervention of his former Troupemate. It might have still ended in disaster and death, but for one last miracle. Side by side with his former coworker, facing death in the eye, he saw death turned aside, that grim face replaced by the face of glories uncounted. The Unconquered Sun spoke to him. "There is no greater glory than to see another lifted up by your works, no greater strength than to make another strong. Go forth, spread this truth in the ways you know how, and spread my glory!" And it was so. The troop rallied under him, and together they pushed back the small squads and scant few Dragonblooded of the Realm. They fled into the wilderness, into strange and wild places, and took refuge in ancient ruins. There, within that place, Little Mountain Singing found a glorious banner on a tremendous shining pole of orichalcum, a strange stone affixed to its end. He met the lord of that place, too, an ancient guardian spirit that taught him much of how to use his power, how to channel his fury through his voice and his actions, and how to tap spiritual reserves of strength in addition to the physical. He still hungers for fame, glory, wine, women, and song, but now, at least, they are secondary to his mission. This warrior of Sound of Word and Deed will carve his legacy across Creation if he has his way. Panoply The Banner of the Sun: While Little Mountain didn't know it, the item he found in the ruins was actually a stage prop from the first age, not a war banner. It seems to have grown to enjoy being a tool of import, however, empowering his social mojo as well as his martial skill. •Gives 2 'fake' successes on Join Battle for the sake of determining initiative order in round 1 to those who can see you. •When used as part of a stunt, add one to the rating of the stunt for the purpose of dice generation only. •When enhancing a Social Influence attempt with a point of Willpower, reduce one target's Resolve by 1. Sample Evocations: Terrestrial (Combat) Message Carries Itself, Permanent: This weapon counts as a Medium Artifact weapon with the following tags: Martial Arts (Crane, Silver-Voiced Nightingale, White Reaper), Bashing, Shield Weapons-Snaring Flutter, 2m: On a successful parry, the enemy's weapon becomes entangled in the imperishable fabric of the banner. This is treated as a Disarm Gambit. If successful, the disarmed weapon may be thrown to Short Range. (Social) Mind Assailing Glory, 2m, 1wp: Activate after landing a successful decisive attack, remove levels of damage dealt to reduce their temporary willpower, with a limit up to 2 or (Essence), whichever is higher. Tornado-Herding Banner, 4m: A divine wind accompanies the Exalted's blows. Increase damage done to Battle Groups by the group's raw Size rating, not accounting for bonuses from War Charms that increase effective size. Supreme Delivery of the Divine Message, 4m: After any successful strike by the wielder, although not necessarily from this artifact, the target suffers Onslaught Penalties to their Resolve against the next Social Influence attempt. Celestial ???? Custom Initiation: Of Labor Reforged Through tremendous effort and concentration, physical practice and training becomes a moving meditation. One's chakra points are opened, ones meridians unlocked. By strengthening the body, one strengthens the breath. By strengthening the breath, one strengthens the essence. By mastery of essence, the gates of the world are opened. This initiation combines sheer physical might with intense willpower and chanted sutras, until every movement and every muscle unconsciously evokes sacred phrases, the sorcerer's entire body and mind remade into a single mystical engine. Shaping Rituals PURCHASED•By the spiritual one may master the physical. By the physical, one may master the spiritual. Once per day, the Sorcerer may attempt a feat of great physical strength, whether that be a rigorous internal kata or tremendous external exertion. Roll (STR or STA) + Occult and gain a sorcerous mote for each success, bankable until used to fuel a spell or until the ritual is redone on a later day. If the Sorcerer successfully lifts or destroys something as a Feat of Strength while furthering a Major or Defining intimacy, he may bank twice as many motes. •When the Sorcerer strikes a withering blow on a significant enemy or enemy unit, all damage done may be instead converted to sorcerous Motes that must be used by the end of the scene. •Inner Flame. The Sorcerer may take levels of bashing damage, converting them to 3 motes each, as a reflexive action. The Sorcerer may convert up to (Essence) health level this way per turn, and may inflict this damage onto any temporary health levels. New Merits: ***Body as Mind. The Sorcerer may roll Shape Sorcery actions with (STR or STA) as the base ability. ***Mental Might. The Sorcerer may add his WIT to his STR for the purposes of qualifying for Feats of Strength. This does not add dice to the actual roll. Mile'ionaha fucked around with this message at 01:32 on Mar 14, 2015 |
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Feb 28, 2015 06:34
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Incomparable Iron Seer It started, once again, with a rap on the door. Outside, a gruff-looking man in too fine of clothes for this part of town. Only him, but otherwise eerily familiar—I fumble my stylus at the thought, smearing my shirt with blood-red ink. How appropriate. I force the dark thoughts away and raise a shaking hand to the door. “It is late, sir, but what can I do for you? A message to send, perhaps?” No time for pleasantries for this one. The man breezes past the door, ignoring my offer to take his coat. “Master Xuhai, I presume? My associates and I have heard of your little…adventure, as it were. We have a proposition for you.” My blood runs cold as ice. “Pardon, sir? I’m afraid I don’t know—“ The man slips a scrap of parchment out of a pocket, revealing a certain symbol meticulously scratched upon it—a wing pierced by a spear, if you look at it sideways. I don’t, as I have seen it once before. All at once I know the man is not an associate of my fallen companions—or if he is, that they were not what they appeared to be. My mind’s eye flashes to that time: the terror and confusion; the hopeless running amidst shifting corridors of ice and obsidian; but most of all, those sad, sad eyes staring down at me. In these fractured months afterwards, I realized what that sadness was—even all that was ultimately for our sake, our protection. Some things should not be rediscovered. And with that realization came clarity. It didn’t matter what this man offered, or said, or threatened. It simply could not be. I stared at the swarthy man, who was now twirling a knife nonchalantly. Realistically, my small gifts would stand no chance against him, but I had to try. At least they can’t take me alive, not with my birds. I speak a single word, and a nearby picture explodes, the supposedly still life of a warbler surging out of the canvas with a spray of dried paint and gilded wood, and, soon enough, arterial blood. —————— Xihuai stares at the gurgling man bleeding out on his carpet, flexing his suddenly strong biceps, running his preternaturally lucid mind through hundreds of plans and possibilities. And with a start, he realizes that this is not, cannot be, the end. There will be more, and more, and if he is no longer weak then they will find someone who is. Carefully, he cleans the blood, wraps up the corpse, and sets off. By that afternoon, he is a lowly cart driver, bringing a few essentials to a nearby village. No one would dare stop him, or ask questions about whether there was a body concealed underneath the oil barrels. By that night, a courier traveling to the coast. By month’s end, a front-man for a traveling show. Not as inconspicuous as he might like, but he was never going to be such for long. And this at least gives the chance to discover evidence, to unravel all this madness. OldMidgetWillow fucked around with this message at 21:48 on Feb 28, 2015 |
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Feb 28, 2015 06:44
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Lark Dancing Within Sword's Reach Character sheet I suppose it all started when the Immaculates burned down my tavern. An Anathema had been there, you see. He'd paid for his lodging, never raised a fuss, even helped my father with that wicked magic of his; but he'd stayed for three days, and because of that, the tavern was burned, my father was hauled off never to be heard from again because he'd owned it, and my mother threw herself off a bridge on our way to the city. I can't blame her; my father was a good man, that tavern was our livelihood, and I suppose my flair for the dramatic was inherited. I nearly joined her that day, but I was more infuriated than depressed. Though it can be hard to tell the difference. That Anathema had done nothing but exist, yet here I was, alone in the world, because some Dragons thought a sparkly sign on someone's forehead meant them and anyone they glanced at deserved death. He hadn't matched any of the tales I'd heard so often. I was curious. So, naturally, I marched further into the Realm and joined the theater. I had always been a good singer and actor, though I was certainly rough when I started. Playing to a role let me forget who I had been. I shed the old country tavern life and became the Lark of the Opera - or the Phantom, or the wicked Raksha who tempts the hero. I enjoy playing villains; at times off the stage I felt like one, if only the Dragons knew what I thought of the glorious hunts they so often want portrayed. I suppose it was inevitable that I would get the brilliant idea to change a classic play to portray a pair of Anathema as the heroes of the tale, a story from the First Age. It was revolutionary; it was, I thought, very well-written and a faithful adaptation. It was never performed because Immaculates caught word of my little project and dragged me off to prison for heresy. I had at least hoped to get one show in first, I'd specially tailored the roles to my troupe. Flippancy aside, I was angry. I had been doing research in my spare time, and though Immaculate history is washed heavily in their favor, things didn't always seem to add up. I didn't think their version of the truth was actual truth. I didn't like their censorship. I hated their methods, how they harmed innocents just because of mere possibilities. And I was not going to be arrested as a heretic just as my career was getting somewhere, just when I felt that I had earned enough renown to begin to do something. I can't say which of those emotions was the catalyst, but in the prison cell that night I felt a power bloom in me, and saw Sol himself, though whether he was there with me or only in my mind, I couldn't say; I was rather overcome. He said: "Stand, my child, and shine forth into the darkness of ignorance and mistruth. Become a beacon to guide those who have lost their path, guard those who stray, and sing my glory to Creation." I didn't care much about glory at the time, but there were two words. My child. I had been no one's child since that day on the bridge. I knew then that I was Celestial - that I was Anathema. That this power felt pure and right - that I was a wicked demon centuries dead. I probably cried. But the next day I walked into the courtroom and argued them senseless until they had no choice but to let me go. Everything might have been fine, if I hadn't walked out of the courtroom and into a disaster. Whether by sheer coincidence or some quirk of fate, a Wyld Hunt inquisitor was just arriving. He took one look at me, declared me Anathema and attacked. Naturally, I defended myself, and so doing revealed my caste mark to every official in sight. I'm not sure how I escaped alive and eluded them; it was a bit of a mess of raw reflex and instinct. Unfortunately my popularity meant that nearly everyone there knew exactly who I was, even if they hadn't know about the cause for my arrest, and within days it had gone back to my troupe. Especially my costar. It seemed someone was convinced that Mountain, who often played the hero to my villain, had to have known I was Anathema. Hunting me was one thing, but when I learned of what they were doing to him, to the rest of my friends...something snapped in me. I charged straight back, figuring I might as well die rather than let them die for me, those innocents who had no idea what I had become before I became it, and found Mountain in the midst of his own coup. We might have found our deaths after all if he hadn't Exalted, as well. We made our way out, and we went north, for north was the fastest way away from the Realm and even worse disaster. I fared better than some on that journey, remembering those hardscrabble days clawing my way to the city in my youth. I felt like something was guiding me as we traveled, dreams that sometimes felt like memory, and sometimes like nothing I could name, drawing me onward. Somewhere in that wilderness, we found ruins, and while Mountain communed with spirits, I met a godling. He'd heard me singing; said there was something familiar about me. I was sure we had never met, yet I was oddly drawn to him as much as he was drawn to me. We shared talk, we shared meals, and eventually shared his bed. That was the last I saw of him; in the morning, I had only a beautiful blue sword at my side, a weapon he'd found on a battlefield somewhere. I kept it. But I would rather have kept him. Perhaps he'll find me again when he hears my name hailed from the end of this journey, when I've cast aside these Immaculate lies, found the truth behind what I am - and made my name as one of the greatest actors of this Age. Echo Cian fucked around with this message at 05:32 on Mar 2, 2015 |
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Feb 28, 2015 09:25
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Million Talents Jade Real Name: Jade Roathus Most people have a story. What I've got is a legend. Surprised? You shouldn't be. The Queen of the Iron Fist doesn't play by anybody's rules except her own. It doesn't matter where I came from. What's matters is what I did with myself. I thrashed up enough small fighting rings that they had to make room for me at the big ones. I learned from the best and beat them at their own game. I won myself a name, Million Talents Jade, because that's how much I'm worth in prizes. And once I had a name, I went for the big one. The King of the Iron Fist, the master of a tournament hosted every year in a different part of Creation, the strongest fighter in the world. Couldn't do anything else, really. If you're not the best, you're nothing, ain't that the truth? So here's how that goes. See, this god, he comes up to me after I've wiped the floor with one thug after the next, taking the trash outta the competition. He tells me he wants to pick a fight with me, the way gods love to tell people things, like a pompous jackass. Well, god or not, I don't turn down a fight. And inside the ring, once he starts gloating and telling me how he's not gonna hold back, I don't even let him finish. Bam, one in the mouth and I knock him down, but not out. Guess somebody must've been watching...because that's when I get this mark on my brow. The fight's a good one - the first real challenge I have in a very long time. Me and old Merem Rajhotep, we go ten rounds. Twenty. We lose count. But eventually I bring him down. And when I look around at the faces of the people watching...when I see them angry, confused, impressed...it starts to dawn on me that maybe this fight wasn't picked on a whim. When Nofretamon, Old Rajhotep's servant picks up his belt and offers it to me along with her service, I know it's true. I did it. I did it! Million Talents Jade, Queen of the Iron Fist! But it's not all fun and games. Oh no, couldn't be farther from that. The second I grab that belt, I start hearing the complaints. It's unfair! It's a sham! It's an Anathema and I can't be allowed to keep my life or my belt! The idiot that says that last one goes down too, but the rest have a point. The old King ran his tournament the way he liked it: let the competitors thin each other out, then take the best of them on one by one until everybody's done. This year, I was the first one. Not hard to see why all the other challengers are pissed. Maybe they'd be the champions now if I hadn't gotten first crack. The offer I give them's good enough, though. One month. I get one month to prepare myself, and then the Queen of the Iron Fist's gauntlet kicks off, year round. One champion, one title defense per challenger per year, as many challengers as can find me. That's enough for them. They pay respects, promise to find me once the month is up, and bail. That's when my month of training begins. It's long. It's hard work. More than anything else, it's strange. Nofretamon coaches me on what it means to hold the title. It's not just about fighting, it's a station, a goal that gives every warrior direction, just like the poles. If I want to hang on to the belt, I need to be prepared. As the aide of every King and Queen since the title was established, she knows what it'll take. She's surprised when I know more than she expects me to. Wasn't thinking I'd be more than just a pretty face and a strong fist. I've still got a lot to learn, but I pick it up quick. During the days I practice, travel, learn. It's the nights that stick with me, though. I see myself, but...it's not me. I'm doing things I don't remember doing. Greeting people I've never met before like old friends. Sitting on a throne in a city further up north...Led Kamen. I need to know why it's haunting me. That why we're been traveling towards it now, fighting off challengers along the way. Even though I did what I always wanted to do, my legend isn't over yet. It's only just beginning! --- Character Sheet. Transient People fucked around with this message at 23:06 on Mar 1, 2015 |
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Mar 1, 2015 06:19
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Since we're doing BP instead of XP, are we going to do Solar XP as Solar Beats, instead? When we accumulate (Party Size) Solar Beats, everyone gains one Solar BP?
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Mar 1, 2015 09:00
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Mile'ionaha posted:Since we're doing BP instead of XP, are we going to do Solar XP as Solar Beats, instead? When we accumulate (Party Size) Solar Beats, everyone gains one Solar BP? Yeah
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Mar 1, 2015 19:41
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Going to post some info flavor dump here in a little bit. Before then though, I'm liking the character sheets a lot. Math mostly adds up, but we need to discuss what times work best for everyone. I work late, late at night (Actually very early mourning) CST, so I have a lot of free time and Eurozone folks don't have to worry.
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Mar 1, 2015 22:33
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I work a pretty standard 9-5 job, EST. Tuesdays and Thursdays are best for me, althought 1st and 3rd Mondays also work. Sundays can possibly work as well, but Tuesday and Thursday work super best.
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Mar 2, 2015 05:43
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Added my bio, and any time in evening/night EST works for me.
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Mar 2, 2015 05:55
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I've got a very early schedule, EST, so anything past afternoon on weekdays is good, except for Fridays (which are pretty busy). Weekends can also work but I can't guarantee availability in advance.
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Mar 2, 2015 06:25
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I work early CST; Wednesday and Friday nights, as well as weekends, are probably easiest, though Tuesdays could work too.
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Mar 2, 2015 13:11
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So I'm guessing Tuesdays work best then? We can do it 6 CST until 9/10 CST?
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Mar 3, 2015 08:43
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Errr, anyone still here?
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Mar 6, 2015 21:02
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I think we all are, we've just been talking to you in IRC rather than here 
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Mar 7, 2015 00:19
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Said the time works in irc, and as for here, well...NutritiousSnack posted:Going to post some info flavor dump here in a little bit. ...Yes?
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Mar 7, 2015 07:56
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Echo Cian posted:...Yes? Ha, it WILL be up tonight. I was going to spread it out over a couple of nights but decided to do it in one big heap.
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Mar 8, 2015 21:07
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