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   Mystery: Echoes in the Deep (U:34.30)Psychic imprints echo through the dark caverns here, erupting into strange lights and visions to those who pass through these waters, and drawing curious minds to it, from this sudden cenote of psionic energy. Force Reaction: At the edge of the Hall's visions... The single distaff being is wracked with unfocused and uncontrolled psychic power, which erupts forth from the water into strange shapes and colors as it tries to translate through the alien mind here, more alien that even the Lurker Beneath was prepared to account for. The distaff being for its part, continued to shoot through the psionic storm like a bullet through the water, still launched by the great magnetic field around it which now glowed like an aurora. Was there even a mind here to touch, or only light and energy? It seemed unfazed, and though it discerned nothing yet, it continued towards its destination. Distaff fails to even exceed base difficulty of mystery in investigation. You could choose to Defend if you want to enter combat with it nonetheless. Faction Reaction: In the merrow city of Tenayuco... The fighting was immediate and bloody. It was a violation of everything that the old traditions stood for, and another trespass by the Blood Empress against millenia of tradition. Her thrall army did not wait for their opponents to gather their anemone army to fight at the appointed place, but instead were loosed like a swarm upon the mostly undefended city. However, the merrow fought back here, not giving advantage or quarter to the occupying army, and few thralls could be called before finally the revolts were suppressed. The teotl here was forced to submit, and made a more direct vassal of the Empress. Failure to create advantage but the Tepotzotl Anemone Army occupies the undefended stronghold of Tenayuco, giving the Blood Empress two of the three strongholds she needs to assert her hegemony over the whole faction. Divine Reaction: In the rival settlement of Malopec... As soon as word reached the machine-priests of the deep, there was outrage. This blood was shed and fed to the water, of merrow against merrow, not thrall against thrall. The Blood Empress threatened to Doom them all with her naked ambition and sacrificing of millenia of tradition. Malopec, staunchly influenced by its priesthood, quickly assembled their own anemone army, preparing for the first true war in known history since the betrayal by the corsairs. Success recruiting a force in Malopec. A Compel: Hungry Minds Exhausted by their expenditure of psionic power, the mind flayers find that their powers are in need of some, sustenance. They look upon the merrow as their lessers in every way, and are quick to assert their dominance, or at least attempt to, and harvest them for their piscine brains. If you accept this compel, an Attack that your Cult cannot defend against will be made and cause Stress and Damage, and you will gain a point of Aberrance. If you deny this compel, you must spend a point of Aberrance. Tricky Dick Nixon fucked around with this message at 22:10 on Apr 20, 2016 |
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Apr 20, 2016 21:43
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  Bospor is a medium-sized and coastal city and Stronghold of the Palladic City-States, located at hex 21.29. Its Terrain is Sandy Beaches and its Stronghold aspect City of Sails. Bospor used to be the commercial capital of the Palladic City-States before the north was settled and Herapetra ascended to become the Center of the World. It is still a secondary port for the Ornassi, especially in conjunction with its trading partner of Hyklos as part of the slave trade, though it is not as much a focus as it is for that inland city. When people think of soft and decadent Ornassi, they are likely thinking of the Bospori, but even here there is bustling industry and hard-bodied souls. Bospori shipwrights are some of the most renowned in all the world. It’s the aristocrats that show the decadence, and the most ribald and dissolute activities are enjoyed as their money slowly fades away, and they seem to understand that their prosperity will not last forever. Laeberik is said to be the patron of Bospor, and in its better qualities this is true: The city is very generous to its less fortunate, with a corn dole and other welfare not found in other cities, but that has recently attracted many refugees from south and other cities, that have become increasingly resented by the powerful aristocracy. The Secret of Bytcina is undiscovered.  The Harpy is a Notable of the Palladic City-States residing in Bospor. She is both Chaotic and Ornassi. The Harpy of the current age is known by the name Doto IV. The Harpy is misliked by most of her fellow princes, as she has a grasping and treacherous reputation and an acerbic tongue and wit. As the August’s power has waxed her has waned, and now that it appears there is a sign of weakness, she searched for any possible advantage to pull to her side and return Bospor to its great heights once more. Despite perceived dissolution, she’s actually quite in control of her own desires, though she pursues them with aplomb. The Harpy has a husky voice, with dark hair and a somewhat more voluptuous figure than the Ornassi standard of beauty allows for. She wears a brass circlet and wields a princely scepter. The Harpy’s Origin is that of Decadent Princess, while her Forte is ????? ????? and her Foible ????? ?????. She exhibits no sign of Corruption. The Harpy’s Secret is undiscovered. The Harpy’s Approaches are +2 Sneaky, +1 Arcane, +1 Clever, +1 Flashy.  Mystery: Cult Activity Detected (O:21.29)The attempted kidnappings and seeking of sacrifices have left traces. The Cult of the Consumed Flame is not successful in acquiring a sacrifice, as the Palladic States tie their roll in their defense, but they do get a boost of your choice. The sacrifices in Nod are much more successful, giving you both a point of Aberrance and a boost. Faction Reaction: In the sail city of Bospor... Agents of the Harpy's archon organize an investigation. The murder of the wizard and his wife have lead them to believe that some kind of diabolical wizardry is at foot, and the attempt to gain sacrifices by force only adds to this suspicion. A hard-nosed woman named Hecuba, a prefect, is set to investigate this cult activity and find its source. The Palladic City-States successfully recruit an agent. The Temple of Piety attempts to recruit an agent as well as a Divine Reaction but they fail. A Compel: This Isn't How It Goes! Your heretic has run away from your grasp. You know for certain he is part of the plan, the one you must see to... Or do you? Ultimately, it is only half-remembered, but everything in your nature tells you that the stranger Buraq is part of the grand design of the Arch-Treason, perhaps instrumental to a motif, or perhaps a great betrayer yet waiting. If you accept this compel, you must dedicate an action every turn towards finding and subverting the agent Buraq, in some fashion, until he is subverted, dead, or the Age ends. You will gain a point of Aberrance now for your trouble. If you reject this compel, spend a point of Aberrance.
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Apr 20, 2016 22:24
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 Society for the Study of Abbysid History It was as inevitable as it was unfortunate that the Archmage would discover the existence of the Society. Amon Qor was the Archmage's domain, and he did not easily allow independent forces, out of his control, to dwell there. So, his attention was drawn to the Society. In defense, the Society turned their attention to him. The Archmage had secrets, undoubtedly. Who did not? So the Society made it their goal to discover them. So they planned, cautiously and patiently, putting agents in the right place, bribing oh so very discreetly, and doing their best to learn without themselves being discovered. Leerily Listing for Rumors about the Archmage: 4dF+3 2 Trying to learn everything I can about the Archmage. That's a tie, I think?
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Apr 21, 2016 04:18
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 The Bereaved The mortals speak of a great center of power, a place where the ghods will have audience and hear your prayers. In search of this place, I threw the bulk of myself into the wind and tried to sense where the ghods held their seats on this world. I did not know what to expect but I will have to admit, I was disappointed by what I found instead. In the middle of the forest, in the center of the cascading power, was just a simple altar ringed with split logs and covered by a simple tarp. While this Dhoad was indeed a ghod linked with nature, I still expected some kind of fortification. Where ever they were, it was no longer in this plane. Maybe they had rotted away from existence? That would be nice. Still maybe this was all an illusion? My prey had a habit of thinking themselves clever. Upon every surface, I had settled spores of myself and gingerly poked and prodded for any cracks or traps presented by this shrine. Everything came up empty, save for a sense of power emanating from the altar itself. Alright, cracking this should be easy enough. Wait, this is still too easy, patience is the most important virtue. Let's just lightly tap it, see what gets set off when the core is but disturbed. A single rhizomorph penetrated through the altar and lightly poked at the essence of the shrine. In the forest surrounding the shrine, I felt a great breeze. From all directions, druids with intricate masks and grey robes emerged from the darkness of the forest and progressed towards the altar. Their hands were raised and they looked about the shrine alertly. Maybe they could sense me but they obviously couldn't see me. The smallest of things are always overlooked, at great peril. Out of curiosity, I entered into and infected the druids as they wondered around looking for their apparent foe. I wonder how confused they all must be? I expected an endless cascade of chattering confusion but instead was greeted with a massive wall of utter silence. I sat and waited but still, nothing but unending silence. These men almost seemed to not think, for how quiet all their minds were. Slowly though, in the recesses of that void I felt a presence stirring. A consciousness was awakening, though slowly, simultaneously through all their minds. Only my thoughts seemed to echo within these empty vessels. Whatever was coming, the only thing it would find in the minds of these men would be me. Did I fall into some sort of trap? Were they all waiting for me with these new, biological automations? There was nothing here that could mask my presence and thus nothing that could hide my departure. At this point in the game, I would rather not be discovered. Still, in this silence, the scars left in their minds would be evident to whatever was emerging here. As well, I would rather not have to duel a ghod in such a vacuous arena. I needed a distraction to cover my escape but the silence stayed firm. I suppose I could drop down into the old weave and stir up some energy from there but who knows what awaited me in that plane. I had murdered many ghods who thought they could barge into the Weave with raw power, I was not to fall into my own favourite trap. Integrating them into my network would take too much time. Indecision was eating precious seconds away. I still had one trick up my sleeve. From Zero, I still had some fragments of the old Weave, torn threads studded with shattered memories and highlights of pain. I tied them together into a circuit and pumped raw psionic energy into it. It hummed and violently thrashed as I filled it with a violent essence. If they were not able to think on their own, I would give them thoughts. Quickly, I roped all their minds together and in the center of that knot, I shattered my makeshift psionic bomb. Every druid collapsed simultaneously from excruciating pain, their minds flashing with memories stolen from other people and truths they haven't experienced. Additionally, since it was from the old Weave originally, all they could track it back to was the original minds that Zero disturbed as she was ripped out of the old network. In the induced confusion, I killed all my physical structures, sealed up the cracks I had made and disappeared. Next time, I would have to be more careful. *********** Horror Action The Bereaved Subtly discovering hex O:26.13 (Shrine of Dhoad) Diff: 0: 4dF+3 0 Tie. I consume my boost Severed Truths from Zero to add +2 to turn it into a success. Discovered Aspect: Blank minded Druids End Discovery Phase Hypha fucked around with this message at 10:38 on Apr 21, 2016 |
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Apr 21, 2016 08:14
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  Agriyadh is a great and powerful city and Capital of the Aghis Artanate, located at hex 21.44. Its Terrain is Sandy Oasis and its Stronghold aspect Gem of the Sands. Agriyadh is the great capital of the ogres, and has changed hands between the different sects over the millenia but always remained the center of their civilization and religion. It is a city of great buildings built atop shifting sands that ebb and flow like the tides, and much of it is suspended on great marble bridges that cross over the sand like it is winding rivers, while skiffs and pleasure barges are carried by the wind across them, and herds of camels, too small to be mounts but used as pack animals, roam freely in herds. Indeed, there is much life here, as water spills openly (and brazenly) from founts into the sand, acting as an artificial oasis, as if unnaturally or arcanely powered. There are many slaves who have settled here, about two for every ogre. The Secret of Agriyadh is undiscovered.  Aghis’artan is a Notable and the current Leader of the Aghis Artanate residing in Agriyadh. He is both Lawful and Aghissi, and a devotee of the god Aghis. Aghis’artan has ruled since the Ninth Age, and when you are named Aghis’artan, you no longer have any other name but Aghis’artan. A truly ancient and powerful beign that is evident to all within his presence, the Aghis’artan has a retiring personality and presence now after many years protecting the ways of the Aghissi and the ogres. He has expanded their control to the Cazzerides, Muscat, and Pashvalun, and not just the desert, which itself has grown under his watch. For the past two ages, however, he has not made any moves, and allowed instead things to remain as they are, and what he says is seen as the very word of the red ogres’ god. Still, his willingness to let things remain as they are, and his detachment from politics, has allowed some elements outside his reach to begin to gain power for themselves, and he is far more concerned looking for signs of true existential threats, like the Medhari Sect or the Mule, whom he believes are working together, has made him not blind but uncaring to his courtiers seeking power and glory for themselves outside his own will. Aghis’artan stands nearly sixteen feet tall, towering over even other ogres easily. His voice is immeasurably deep, with great horns and cloven feet. He e carries a giant scimitar and wears a scorpion crown. Aghis’artan’s Origin is that of Retiring Pharaoh, while his Forte is ????? ????? and his Foible ????? ?????. He exhibits no sign of Corruption. Aghis’artan’s Secret is undiscovered. Aghis’artan’s Approaches are +3 Forceful, +3 Arcane, +2 Flashy, +1 Careful, +1 Clever.  The Vizier is a Notable of the Aghis Artanate residing in Agriyadh. He is both Neutral and Aghissi. The Vizier of the current age is known by the name Abu Ni'riya. Among a civilization that detests deceit above all, the Vizier is a seemingly obvious snake in the grass. His reputation is secured in the eyes of most, and he has transformed his position as priest-judge into a majordomo and chancellor for the Artanate. It is a mystery to many why this obviously grasping courtier is allowed to remain in power. The truth is, the Vizier does what must be done to keep the traditions and laws upheld, and the Artanate continually growing, steadily, with power. The Vizier is old, and has served the Aghis’artan for two ages, which corresponds to how long Aghis’artan has been preoccupied with other matters. Though he has lied and used treachery to get his way, he has never betrayed the Artanate. Surely, he only has the best intentions at heart? The Vizier is a voluminous ogre standing twelve feet tall, and a wide, sharp grin that matches his magnificent eyebrows. He wears a grant, round turban that covers his horns, and hides a dagger in his silks. The Vizier’s Origin is that of Political Cleric, while his Forte is ????? ????? and his Foible ????? ?????. He exhibits no sign of Corruption. The Vizier’s Secret is undiscovered. The Harpy’s Approaches are +2 Sneaky, +2 Clever, +1 Flashy, +1 Arcane.  The Red Sand Flotilla is a Elite Force of the Aghis Artanate. It is both Lawful and Aghissi. While the flotilla itself is simply war-skiffs armed with harpoons, fast sails, amphibious hulls and barbed rams, it’s the mariners upon it that are truly the elite of the elite. Armed with bright pyromancy and trained to capture as much as kill, the Red Sand Flotilla can be anywhere it needs to be. It can move three hexes rather than two over desert and ocean terrain, but it still has to stop on difficult terrain. The Aghissi do not prepare to meet other ships on the sands, but they could meet them on the ocean, and in those cases the small and agile ships use pyromancy, grapples, and maneuvering to board and capture ships, using their marines as shock troops that burn their way to the captain and hold them as hostages. The mariners wield great scimitars and gouts of flame. They do not use any siege weapons like the boats of mortals, relying on their arcane power and speed instead. Marines rarely wear any armor, instead relying on their hard, burning skin and maneuvering, and being able to swim with remarkable athleticism. The Red Sand Flotilla’s Origin is that of Desert Fleet, while its Forte is ????? ????? and its Foible ????? ?????. It exhibits no sign of Corruption. The Flotilla’s Secret is undiscovered. The Flotilla’s Approaches are +3 Quick, +3 Arcane, +2 Forceful, +2 Flashy, +1 Clever.  Artifact: Brazier of BrassThe Brazier of Brass is a blue artifact, taking the form of a great greenish brass brazier that is nearly twelve feet in diameter, with inlaid designs of horned beings that are very inhuman, as if holding up the lid like the world. It emits either smokeless flame or flameless smoke, when fueled by either jade or obsidian. It brings good fortune to those who own it, and allows them to manipulate fate and geomantic power such that they can make the most inhospitable land give seed to life, essentially making it a terraforming device. Like other artifacts, the Brazier of Brass starts an Age with a free invocation to be used by its owner. The Brazier exhibits no sign of Corruption. Its Origin is Giantmake. Its current owner is the Aghis Artanate. Its Secret is undiscovered. Spending a point of Prophecy to downgrade your portal creation to a tie, thus creating a mystery. Mystery: Pawing at the World (O:21.44)As you blindly touch the world with your new appendages, you find that some are quite swift. It takes time to learn, and adapt, to these apex predators that you find yourself near, even if their time at the top has blunted some of their edge, like the lion on the savannah now outshone by the hyena. A few manage to escape gazing upon what lies on the other side of the tears, and word spreads just enough that something horrific is at hand. Force Reaction: It finally begins… Ringing around Baori Oasis are perhaps dozens of ogres now. These are not warriors. They are slavers, a very different class, and they are accompanied by the slaves that survived the decimation. Work has ground to a halt in Agriyadh, as everything is put on the line to instill understanding in these slaves for good, what is to be done. Instead of handing them all a knife as before, however, as the threat of death is not enough, they handed these slaves, hardened by the terror, a different tool: A whip. They did something previously unthinkable, in giving them the tool of the master. A slave might be overseer over another slave, and granted this strength, one cracked the whip to the sky, and then another. Hundreds of bullwhips cracked in the sky like thunder, as they finally began to move in, orchestrated by al-Saba himself, who surveyed from a plateau, knowing full well in the back of his mind that something did not seem right with all of this, yet he hoped that this final gambit would pay off after nearly months of siege tactics only seemed to allow them to infiltrate within the walls of Agriyadh itself. It had to be stamped out, or at least scattered to the winds. Something deep and instinctual in these mortals was being summoned forth. Fear not of death, but of slavery, instilled by generations and in the blood itself. The sound of the whips was to cause them to break. Some had their minds indeed influenced by the Lifesinger, but their own adrenaline and instincts might overpower given time. They had just escaped slavery. Why do they not run for the sands, run for their lives, and stop this foolish game? Flashily Attack Cult.: 4dF+2 -1 Uses invoke from Slave Terror. Flashily Attack Cult. Invoke reroll.: 4dF+2 3 Faction Reaction: In Eren Venead, north of Pashvalun... The merchant mur-Gedder turned heel from his path northward on his way to Hyklos. The Herathbled were as ever incorrigible, and he would have been better served paying the Pashen the silver needed to make his way through Bospor, but this would have cut his time significantly, but instead being turned around at the gate of Eren Venead had doubled the time it would take for his caravan to make its rounds! All because of those damned elves, and their beautiful words. Didn’t they know that the great Aghissi had bigger problems than the blood elves? Like a slave revolt in their very own sacred oasis!? Still, the elves seemed sympathetic, and told him that they would reconsider in time, and perhaps he should come back again. Yes, he would do that, bring them all the proof they need, show them the sorry state of things, and how weak the Artanate was because of this. That would surely convince his enchanting enemies to allow him to pass come his next passage north. Divine Reaction: Back again in the capital, behind silk and marble… “Trust me,” said the Vizier, with a grin that told his companion the exact opposite. “This is the opportunity we have both been waiting for. It was only a matter of time before this came to be. And even better, there is no sign of the Mule!” His companion spoke in a slightly familiar voice just off to the side. “These tears are not her doing?” The Vizier’s grin faded only slightly, and then he shook his head. “No, but they will not be a concern for long. This city has been dying, it is time to leave it behind, to our friends. They can deal with whatever accursed affliction is upon it.” The companion laughed. “This affliction might be the accursed work of Aghis, considering what we are about to wrought.” The Vizier waved his hand. “Aghis has been dead, like all of the true gods. We worship a corpse, just like the dwarves. The true power is within these mortals. That has been demonstrated enough already. Are you ready, brother? To take the necessary step.” His companion stepped forth. It was Ibn Ir’azz, the ghazi. “When I cut the head from the Qadi, you will know that I will do what it takes. Anything possible.” “Good, good, then you shall lead at the front as we begin our work to new heights.” “Yes, and when I am Aghis’artan, my friend, I will reward you for your wisdom.” Ir’azz looked at Abu Ni’riya meaningfully at that, because the Vizier’s smile was gone completely. That was not part of the plan. Sneakily Create Advantage: 4dF+2 2 The Vizier gains the boost Not Part of the Plan. Tricky Dick Nixon fucked around with this message at 10:24 on Apr 24, 2016 |
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Apr 21, 2016 21:45
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Mar'arr'nenkeshet Free Invoke: Stronger than they look (The Lifesinger's Choir) Boost: Underworld Contact (Agent Rizwan ibn Rasim Abasi al-Jiddah mur-Agriyadh, Hex O:21.44) Boost: Disposable Income (Agent Rizwan ibn Rasim Abasi al-Jiddah mur-Agriyadh, Hex O:21.44) The Lifesinger's Choir As the whip-bearing line of slaves marched forwards, they were greeted by nothing but shifting sands at first, the Oasis unnaturally empty of even the modest amount of animals that usually inhabited it. The only signs of life were the occasional palm tree, and they too seemed to... glisten? Yes, the slaves had absolutely nothing but the eerily silent whistling of the wind for company. Nevertheless they marched on, cracking their whips. Determined to show their new worth to their masters. As the grip tightened on the Oasis, contact was finally made as a single man hidden in the sand suddenly jumped up. The man, all alone, made no hostile movement. No attempt to attack, maneuver, or run away. He merely stared, face still, eyes unblinking against the stinging desert wind. The effect was unnerving enough for the line to stop its advance, but just for a second, after which it continued its march. As they approached the man, orders were issued, the likes of "Surrender, Traitor!" or "Stand down and earn a quick death!" and other generic threats, which admittedly rang somewhat hollow from people not used to handling power. But as the man did not respond, or really even seem to acknowledge what was said, it was decided that he would be made an example. Flogged to death right there, in front of his friends wherever they were lurking. As the line reached lashing range of the man, it stopped, the nearest slave raising his whip to strike. But even then, even though they had the clear advantage in numbers and equipment, he hesitated. There was something excessively unnerving about this man. The way he had not moved an inch. The way he had no even blinked. It screamed obvious trap, but what possible trap could there be? He had nothing on his person, and the sand nearby was flat and unlikely to house anyone in ambush. Perhaps it was mere bluff? It had to be. Surely. The slave swallowed, and with the slightest tremble let loose his whip, his fellows joining him soon after. Or they would have, if what happened next hadn't frozen them dead on their tracks. Almost faster than the eye could follow, the man had intercepted the heavy leather bullwhip with his right hand, without so much as wincing in pain. Indeed, his expression had not changed at all. The slaves could do nothing but stare at this inhuman feat of reflexes and pain tolerance, their directive momentarily forgotten at the sight of the spectacle. Then, things got worse. With a quick pull, the man wrenched the whip from the hands of the slave, causing him to stumble forward into the sand. As the fallen slave turned upwards, he saw something that would remain with him for the rest of his life. For the 'man' snapped the whip of hard leather with his bare hands. He had never seen any human who was capable of such feats. Ogres maybe, but not men. He stared at the man, quivering now, his allies sharing worried glances at each other, some taking tentative steps back, for they knew not what to do with such opposition. The man merely stared, his face as stony as it was before. After a while, he finally he turned his head, looking over the gathered slaves, who were slowly regaining their resolve. Surely, they could overpower just one man, no matter what feats of strength he showed? Perhaps they were right. Perhaps they could have beaten any man. But as the being in front of them suddenly distended its jaw, revealing a mouth full of pointed teeth, letting out a blood curdling scream that must have reached the heavens, one thing was clear. It was not men they were fighting. They were fighting monsters. The slaves could do nothing but run, formation broken. Their new whips as well as their new resolve dropped and forgotten, left for the sands to take. ______________________________________ Defend Action At Hex O:20.44, The Lifesinger's Choir will Dreadfully Defend to make very clear they are not intimidated by whips Dreadfully Defend (Difficulty: 3): 4dF+5 3 Tie Burning my Invocation on 'Stronger than they Look' for a +2, making this a success Theantero fucked around with this message at 23:11 on Apr 21, 2016 |
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Apr 21, 2016 23:04
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 Brothers and Sisters Of the Lost Son Cult of Ahiram Boost: Eager Opportunists (Brothers and Sisters Of the Lost Son, used this turn) "We are those who choose their own path. Those who know no falsehoods. Those who grasp victory, progress, and perfection. We are those, for we are the Brothers and Sisters of Herapetra's Lost Son." In a cellar of a splendid manor near Herapetra, a group of eager, young nobles stood around a long table and recited their secret oath. Their cult was young, but they were already beginning to master the art of ceremony. Such is the nature of the proudly cultural Ornassi. They had already even made fine sets of robes, carefully woven to match the styles of ages past, and manufactured among themselves jewelry and accessories to match their ceremonial ranks. "Let us call this meeting to a start." The Eldest Brother motioned for everybody to sit down. "I trust you all have been taking care of the tasks assigned to you. If we are to take back control of this city, we have no time to waste. Now, whose task was it to get us access to the palace? What do you have to report?" One of the Younger Brothers shifts around uncomfortably. "Well, I have a brother- but not a brother brother who's a sub-commander in the palace guard and I thought I could rely on him, but- I told him I needed his help but he doesn't want to talk to me anymore and-" He starts to stutter repeatedly as stares of disappointment and scorn hit him from all directions. Before he can recover, a Young Sister speaks up and interrupts. "I can get us into the palace..." She beams with a bright smile as everybody turns to look at her. The spotlight is all hers now. "I have a dear friend who works as a clerk. She's always talking about how everything's almost like a game at the court. They're always trading favors around, and trying to make people owe them more than they owe other people. She's not high-ranking so she always comes out near the bottom... but with all the things she's told me, I'm sure that if she just got the right push she could really come out ahead." "Push?" an Elder Brother asks. The Sister smiles even more. "She's got the connections, she just doesn't have the means. Not as a single civil servant. But if we used some of these resources..." She gestures upwards at the fine mansion above. "And some of these connections..." She gestures outward, at the other cultists. "We could really push her forward. And then she'd be grateful to us." She points her hand back at herself as she makes that last comment, as if to silently say, "And most of all, to me." A couple of the Older Brothers and Older Sisters grumble, but the Eldest seems receptive. "...Fine. Contact your friend and find out what she wants, then come back to us and we shall give it to you. Just make sure that this does not end up with us chasing a phantom payday that never comes." ----- The Brothers & Sisters Uncannily create an advantage to gain an audience with The Strategos: 4dF +2 = 1 vs 2 Invoking Eager Opportunists to add +2 and make that a 3, turning that into a Success. They gain the aspect, Friends In The Palace. Takanago fucked around with this message at 05:04 on Apr 22, 2016 |
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Apr 22, 2016 04:56
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 Force Reaction: Kavana, an Adventurer "if you have not the silver, how can you expect her services?" asked the increasingly annoyed porter, looking down the face of his poleaxe at the desperate and admittedly quite disheveled man, who was an adventurer and fortune hunter Kavana however could not think of propriety, much less coin, and it's not like he had the amount to spare on such a gross price as was demanded by this astrologer. "Please, you have to understand. This is beyond any matter of silver, it is-" Almost immediately, there is a deep bellowing laugh. and the porter shakes his head. "You've worn my ear long enough. You know the saying. If you have not the time to pay, then we'll find time for the other." Despite the thread, Kavana had to be physically hoisted from the palatial villa, scrambling in the gardens as he looked up to where the soiree and ball was. He knew to simply traipse in would be suicide, but if he could only have just a moment. If only he had taken a shard with him, but he was sure that his voice would ring true, if only he could have a chance to use it. Still, he would not be deterred. Something inside of him called, that this would need to be known. Perhaps a bit of him hoped she might notice, might hear his desperation, although the thought of this also filled him with terrible dread. For all this, he knew what he had to do. He hoisted himself upon the stone fencing, making his way until he could grab onto one of the silk overhangings from the balconies, leaping from pillar to pillar to swing himself upwards by its momentum. From this and other acrobatic feats, he climbed and clambered between the windows, glancing upon the festivities within, before he finally reached the lower bases of the spire. Climbing into the widnow, he crept into the bedchamber of the one he sought, adjusting his doublet as he did. On second thought, this wasn't a great plan. Sneakily Request Audience.: 4dF+2 3 Faction Reaction: Medhari Sheikdoms Galaia stood amid the darkness. She was no longer afraid of it by this point. It was no longer a matter of being inured. It was a matter of true comfort. Days, perhaps weeks spent in the darkness, her eyes and body begint to adapt. Soon after, when she fully embraces the lack of sight, as well as her movement within, she knows she is safe. After all, it is the light that creates shadows, and the darkness is complete. There is only things to fear in shadows, not darkness. It was only the first gate. Arcanely Create Advantage: 4dF+2 4 Galaia gains the Advantage of Pyromantic Training,
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Apr 23, 2016 09:57
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 TheNabster posted:Agent Engl attempts to Weirdly Gather Rumours (Overcome) on The Sage through the use of a simple scrying ritual to catch a glimpse of him. The approach is Weird +2 and the Difficulty is unknown Agent Reaction: The Sage As Engl gazes into the diviner's bowl, she is quite alarmed to find the picture so crystalline, the signal so judiciously influenced by the emanations of her new master. What she witnesses is a scene that is indeed shocking, revealing the secret of the Sage plainly, but it is also a visceral sort of reaction beyond. She finds him in his study, carefully unfolding a box where within crystals that seem filled with a sort of luminescent, scintillating golden liquid are revealed, which his metal tipped fingers touch against. They sing. It is perhaps not surprising to see the Sage involved in the practice of wizardry, but that's not the secret revealed with this divination. He lifts a single one of the crystals, gingerly closing the box and crossing the room over to a carefully preserved and prepared corpse, apparently of one of the Lower Waethai inhabitants, though how it came to be deceased is less certain. Clasping his hand around it and hiding the glow completely, the other hand touched at certain special points upon the body, causing a twitch as he did. He drew forth the eidolon and the necromantic energies trapped within in the refuse of the soul, bringing forth the film-like, pale substance into the material. Gripping tightly upon the crystal, he called upon magical energies, to shape this soul-stuff, and then it became quite plain what was going on here. Sorcery. He shaped the eidolon not into any animate form, in fact, he was so kind as to explain, as if he were aware of an audience. "The mortal soul reflects much, like the windows of the heavens into other worlds where we once gazed. If one knows but the angle..." Indeed, it was stretched and elaborated into a disk, a lens or mirror, that began to reflect not light, but reality, shifting through immeasurable dimensions and angles in am addening array, enough to drive lesser men insane. Unless the Sage is already quite mad to begin with, which considering the forces he is set to tamper with, cannot be ruled out. Finally, the soul-lens arrives upon the image of Engl's reflection from the pool, staring in horror. This hall of mirrors effect is amplified by the image of lines of gray--faced figures behind her, a symbol, some kind of sign, a revelation of their interference. The bowl clatters to the ground, and his being able to peer back through the window is lost as well, the crystal fading and the soul mirror ripping like a silk cloth, with a wretched tearing sound. The Sage considers for a moment, dropping the spent crystal onto the ground, and walking over to his desk. "I must write a letter..." He says, with no due sense of haste. You learn the Secret of the Sage: Dabbles in Sorcery. I spend 1 point of Prophecy to invoke a Revelation, and give the Sage a Clue about the Ministry. Cleverly Request Audience of the Highest.: 4dF+2 4 The Sage gains an audience with the Highest. Faction Reaction: Sarnath Antarchy In the following days, perhaps on advisement from whatever was written in this letter, or due to tensions caused by the race war, the elves turn silent. They finally decide to come to the decision to begin closing off the island entirely. They make these decisions as a matter of consensus and social pressure, and those who do not consent to enter into seclusion with the rest of their people with the threats implied by the race riots, are quickly ostracised and through these social carrots and sticks brought back into the fold, though Ammon Grove has its own influence that cannot be completely steamrolled over. Still, they are quite effective in securing this. For the rest of the world, it's as if the elves completely disappear, though by the lights of their cities atop the cliff it's obvious they still exist. Only the city on the mainland, Mesanth, remains open in any capacity, though even there the elves shut themselves off in their estates. There is no trade, no access to be had. The pilgrims, merchants, and scholars find no response to their missives, and none are granted permission or even attention below. The seven Highest coordinate this action, for a very particular reason, that bornes itself out quickly. Soon, the merchants and scholars, the men of means that desire the knowledge and trade of the elves, quickly view the agitators as a threat. While solidarity among the inhabitants at the base of the cliffs is only emboldened, and their anger stoked, they find themselves politically isolated, and even harassed. The carrot and the stick. It is how the elves had done this for ages efore, and shall continue to do so. Carefully Create Advantage.: 4dF+3 7 Success with style. "Seclusion of the Elves" aspect, two free invokes. Does't counter the Race War, but gives them some insulation. Divine Reaction: An Unknown Covenant A boat sails out from the port-city of Manse, a small cog with a elaborately bearded man named Otho. He had just returned from Waethai a fortnight hence, making a delivery for a special client, and the sudden seclusion has put him at alarm. For his, particular trade, he relies greatly on the resources and knowledge of the elves, and the sudden silence of those that were not his peers but certainly his benefactors has put him in an awkward position with those who in turn rely upon his knowledge. He has laden himself with gifts, to try and ease the passage, but they are quite sparing considering the already high price he had to pay to enter previous. Ultimately, he would have to rely on something elves, and mortals shared.. He fingered the golden crystal in his pocket. Greed Arcanely Recruit Agent.: 4dF+3 3 An agent is recruited.
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Apr 24, 2016 09:19
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Brennos Ahiram's Apprentice Free Invoke: Friends In The Palace (Brothers & Sisters) ----- There was a knock at the door. Brennos whipped his head around, looking away from his workbench for the first time in hours. Dark rings had formed around his eyes, a result of his now chronic lack of sleep. Not that it bothered him much. Who would care about trivial things like that when there's so much work to be done? He had only just begun to unlock the true potential of his craft, and if he just kept working on it... There was another knock. And another. Somebody clearly insisted on wasting his time. Finally, Brennos sighed and resigned himself to dealing with this. He wiped some oil off of his hands, then stoop up and made his way to the door. As he opened it, he saw an unfamiliar, dark-haired man on the other side. "Can I help you?" Brennos asked, taking no care to hide the annoyance in his voice. "Ah, yes," the stranger smiled. "Do you remember this?" Then he held up his hand, upon which was a dark, metallic ring. "It's good to meet you... brother." --- Brennos was soon formally inducted into the group, and a mission was given to him. "My brother," The cultist placed his hands together. "You are to investigate a man by the name of Perdix. He is a craftsman in this city. Some call him a genius. Have you heard of him?" "Yeah I know him," Brennos answered. "It's hard to not know him, really. He's the type of guy that's hard to miss. What do you want with him?" "Ahiram's eyes have seen great potential in him. Potential so great that it cannot be wasted. A Peragos of our time. You've already seen what can happen when the true secrets of metalworking are put in your hands, but his...?" The thought causes both Brennos and the cultist to stare off into space for a moment, as if both were looking at the same, grand idea. But it was only an idea that they could see a partial shadow of, and they both knew it. The truth was, perhaps, above both of their heads. "Anyway," the cultist snapped back to reality. "Before we do anything, we need to know more about him. One does not walk into battle without doing some recon, as they say. We need you to take some time and learn about Perdix. And not so much about his work, and his occupation. We need to learn about Perdix, the man. You need to tell us how he thinks, and more importantly, where his blind spots may be. Do you accept this task, brother?" Brennos crossed arms and thought for a moment. He could not help but feel a little jealous. "Yeah, sure." --- But as it turns out, when a man has a strong reputation it's hard to find out anything that isn't simply his reputation. As Brennos made his way from guildhouse to guildhouse, he was not able to find out much more than he already knew. Yes, every artisan in town had heard of the town's strange iconoclast, but few actually knew him. Many people did not care to associate with him; they found either his attitudes or his approach to artifice simply strange and bizarre. Those that did could mostly just tell you about his work, and his general attitude. The only useful piece of information that he learned was that Perdix was currently working as a shipwright. Since indirect methods did not prove themselves to be useful, Brennos chose to take things a bit more directly into his own hands. Under the pretext of "needing a bit of extra income", he leveraged his connections in the guilds until he was able to find someone down at the harbors who needed an extra, skilled hand. And so, for a time, he worked as a part-time shipwright. He would close his shop early, every other afternoon, and go help them wherever he was needed. It did not take him long to find what he was looking for. On the first day, he saw a young man that stood out like a sore thumb, who wore Westenfolk clothes and always seemed to be taking notes. Brennos approached the young man and stuck his hand out for a handshake. "Hi, my name is Brennos. What's yours?" He then looked down at the man's notebook. "...And what's that you got, there?" ----- Ahiram's Apprentice, Brennos, Uncannily creates an advantage to try and discover The Genius's Foible. Difficulty 3: 4dF+2 = 1 vs 3 Spending 1 Abberance and invoking Brennos's origin aspect Veteran Artisan to add +2 and make it a tie. Which I believe since this is about discovering an aspect acts as a success as per FAE.
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Apr 25, 2016 01:16
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The Bereaved quote:Response to The Bereaved posted: Now the Song was something different in tone, much more nuanced. It almost sounded, suggestive? It ever so slightly resembled her husband's song, when she was courted eons ago. She blushed and her mind wondered to happier times. Could she be happy again? Happy memories quickly fast forwarded to pain and once again, she found herself in the graveyard of her past. Ogres.....she had tools against them. The old psychic wards of the giants, used to limit the spread of the elder races into realms only they travelled. Long ago, she stole them and could staunch the flow of the elder races into her domains through their wards of excruciating pain. Maybe this was a new suitor or a new predator to be wary of but as long as they too were fighting the same foes, this courtship would be beneficial. It sang quite beautifully; sure she got the main message but there was so much more to it. She couldn't match the intrigue contained in its verse, she forgot the secrets of hiding her heart. She mulled over what she should say for far too long, stuck between grief and hope. The only song she could sing with any beauty anymore was the verses of loss and loneliness, with low notes of desperation. Could it complete her? Would it accept her? Would it accept her weaknesses, like her husband before? Curiosity got the better of her and thus she tried her best. quote:Response to Mar'arr'nenkeshet In shame for what she sang, she knelt beside the memorial of her husband and wept. What an insincere wife she turned out to be..... Composure though, she found, for there was yet another to respond to. quote:Reply to Bereaved posted: "I did not care much about you in the past either"......mortal enemies have such a strange way of cooperating. In different circumstances, their deaths would liven her mood greatly. Instead, she wished she remembered a memorial for them too, though she rarely got the privilege to infect the mind of one for very long. In the end, the Giants had won a complete victory. She had hoped that the seas remained wild and untamed but that certainly was too good to be true. Before, their pride prevented them from working together. This time, at the very brink, she figured that they would have to stand as one. quote:Reply to Auluudh Hypha fucked around with this message at 11:53 on Apr 25, 2016 |
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Apr 25, 2016 11:50
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Mar'arr'nenkeshet Mar'arr'nenkeshet stood still once more as the familiar Song was heard again. A message from The Bereaved posted:Hello Formless One, one far from touch and yet whose words are held dear, your Song is meet and its notes are cherished..... I know of these ogres which you speak........I have a ward of the mind and soul which is able to repulse them, least they are willing to endure pain and eventual death at its hands.......while your notes blossom to me and its rhythm stirs me of want, I would hope you have something substantial in return? I fear the loss of existence and self....to be separated has hurt me much so......at worst do you have something to starve off annihilation? I am trapped by the great Membrane as well, yet how did you escape like so to be so far? Please, sing with your delicate voice the Secret of the Membranes in the Sky....... With anticipation, I wish to gently caress your response So similar it were, truly. And it knew the Secrets and notes of the red Seeds as well. Mar'arr'neneshet was very intirgued by this Song that was so much more different than any it had ever encountered, yet at the same time also more familiar. Perhaps it would one day be that their Songs sounded as one. Perhaps. For now, a response was sent. A message to The Bereaved posted:I greet you once more you who are Bereaved and we will sing to you the Secrets of the Membranes of the Sky in exchange for the Secret of Wards you possess. Know of the Membranes that they are strong and mighty but they are rigid and unchanging and to be such is to Die and to leave cracks for the use of others. Know that cracks and fissures like this can be found and used and through them may your Song and Form and Function reach other places. Places others know not of and where you may hide your heart as I have mine and allow it to heal in safety should it be wounded. As thus may you take the Secret of the Membranes of the Sky for your own and use them to shield and not merely be constrained. Do you wish to lock the trade of 'Cracks in the Firmament' for 'Changelings'? I do! Theantero fucked around with this message at 12:36 on Apr 25, 2016 |
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Apr 25, 2016 12:33
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 The Lurker Beneath, the Third King of the Cold Dark, the Great Old, He who takes minds freely, the Star-Seeker Free Invoke: Additional Workforce (Heralds of the Deepest Kingdom) Free Invoke: Psi-Active Crystals (Merrow #1) Auluudh turns away for a few seconds to answer to the Lady of the Woods. Reply to the Bereaved posted:Very well then. Let us exchange what we know in order to facilitate our glorious returns both! And then he turns back to gaze upon his servants. ... And with a look of incredible disappointment, he looks at the Ileth. Locking in the trade too. Yami Fenrir fucked around with this message at 18:55 on Apr 25, 2016 |
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Apr 25, 2016 12:43
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 Agent Action:Xenophon the Survivor The beast's black tongue flicked out every now and then tasting the acrid air. it hadn't appeared to notice him. The lava flows and general roughness of the land made his progress slow, and this newest obstacle only served to frustrate Xenophon further. of course he could just sidestep the thing, but why should he? What right had this beast to deter him from the road he chose to take? Letting out a shout, the madman leaped at the resting salamander. Xenophon will be [url=http://orokos.com/roll/392981]Awfully Attacking the Salamander at Hex 41.38: 4[/url Not at home and borrowing someone else's phone to posting currently so this will be all for my actions this turn.
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Apr 25, 2016 18:54
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The Bereaved quote:Reply to the Bereaved posted: quote:A message to The Bereaved posted: How fortuitous...... quote:
Locking the trades in then
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Apr 26, 2016 08:34
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The Lurker Beneath, the Third King of the Cold Dark, the Great Old, He who takes minds freely, the Star-Seeker Free Invoke: Additional Workforce (Heralds of the Deepest Kingdom) Free Invoke: Psi-Active Crystals (Merrow #1) Well, the exchange with the Lady of the Woods went well. Glad to see us primordeals are not stuck infighting in these dire times. Hm, perhaps the Tyrant is willing to continue our chat. Message to Zarkai posted:Greetings once more, Tyrant! I was wondering you were able to continue our chat. I was about to ask if you were interested in exchanging knowledge to hasten our glorious return to this world. I, for myself, have the following Secrets I could teach you: First, to extend a mortal's life by handing them to the Thief of Days, a second to use the Membranes of the Sky to steal yourself away and heal, and a third to ward away the pesky elder races. Would you perhaps be willing to exchange some of your knowledge for these secrets?
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Apr 26, 2016 14:07
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Mar'arr'nenkeshet Mar'arr'nenkeshet considered the new Secrets it had. They were many, but its Song could always have more. So once again, a song rang through the firmament, for those whom it may concern. SINGING TO ALL HORRORS posted:This is the Song of the one called Mar'arr'nenkeshet and we sings to all others that know the Secret to hear. Know that great Secrets three I have and sing and of them I know the notes and for you may I sing them also for Secrets in return. Two can play at this game 
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Apr 26, 2016 15:14
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Theantero posted:
There was a knocking on the door. This was odd, one because this was the middle of the desert far away from any civilization whatsoever, and two because there was in fact a door in the desert, one that didn't seem to be supported by anything, or even attached to anything it was just there. The Door Opened, it was occupied by a completely blank-faced man in a black suit, and a hideously garish tie that hurt the eyes to look at. "'Scuse me sir pardon me sir I'm part of an organization collecting charitable donations sir to help the poor orphans in Sarnath, and we wondered if we could have a moment of your time sir?" It was completely non-plussed about talking to a big toothy hole in the desert. "Actually I tell a lie sir, I'm part of a right bastard of an organization, and the bloody skinflints won't buy me another tie sir, but they got growing elf problems and you got elf solutions sir and I am authorized to trade one fact about the presence of extra-terrestrial life interfering with the proper running of this world and the various devices of great eldritch power they had left behind because of it, in return for your secrets about elves and other races of a similar kidney, sir." It produced a clipboard. "If you are interested just sign here sir..." He looked at the lack of, anything but teeth and hunger. "Or just dribble some ichor on the dotted line if you don't mind sir." I offer one secret of The First Life in return for the secret of Changelings TheNabster fucked around with this message at 18:04 on Apr 26, 2016 |
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Apr 26, 2016 17:57
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Mar'arr'nenkeshet TheNabster posted:I offer one secret of The First Life in return for the secret of Changelings Mar'arr'nenkeshet wriggled the part of Itself in the Oasis. It had always found these being distasteful. They were strange Seeds but not really Seeds at all and it did not know what to make of them. But they offered Secrets, and not just any Secrets. But the Secrets of Life, and Mar'arr'nenkeshet had a vested interest in such. "I hear you Song strange Seed I hear your notes and see you have Secrets of Life to give and for Secrets of Life Secrets of Life may be given in return for such is out way." A flying ball of phlegm flung from the depths and hit the clipboard. I accept this trade.
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Apr 26, 2016 18:08
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Theantero posted:
"Ahh, lovely, thank you sir." He very carefully scraped most of the excess phlegm off, secreted the clipboard on to his person with a wet squelch, went back through the door he came through and closed it. After a few seconds, he picked up the door and ran like buggery out of the desert. Yami Fenrir posted:
Some period of time later a door sank to the deepest darkest pit in the ocean, before resting on the bottom of the sea and up-righting itself. It opened. Honest Chuck went 'BBLGBBLBGBLGBLBLG' Until he put on a scuba mask, and resumed his Black-Hat trained salesman spiel. He had a book in his hand, it was getting rather wet and the horrible, horrible tie that seemed to be a hole directly into a dimension made entire out of brightly coloured tweed, shone in the murky depths. "Excuse me sir, pardon me sir, do you have a moment to talk about our lord and saviors the First Life?" Regardless of any answer Chuck continued. "Well actually they are quasi-dimensional beings of untold millions of years old and powers beyond mortal ken who once populated a dark world that didn't see much light and and are presently interfering in this world through a manner we aren't entirely sure of how. It's a bugger." "I have this list here, it says 'Membranes' do you know about 'Membranes sir? Only I am authorized to trade First Life secrets for 'Membranes' and my clipboard is getting very wet down here. It's bloody cold too." I'll trade the secret of The First Life, for Membranes in Reality
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Apr 26, 2016 18:28
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The Lurker Beneath, the Third King of the Cold Dark, the Great Old, He who takes minds freely, the Star-Seeker Free Invoke: Additional Workforce (Heralds of the Deepest Kingdom) Free Invoke: Psi-Active Crystals (Merrow #1) Okay, this is getting ridiculous. How the hell do all these weird things know where I live, much less of my actual return? Well, he does speak about a powerful race... which is bound to have powerful secrets. Reply to the Ministry posted:So be it. I... really should work on getting some more security working again. Locking in trade: First life artifacts for Cracks in the sky.
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Apr 26, 2016 18:59
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Ahiram The Man Of Iron and Bronze, He Who Stared Death In The Face, That Which Knows No Limits, the Longing For Perfection, the Unbridled Ambition, the Spiked Freak Free Invoke: Friends In The Palace (Brothers & Sisters) Theantero posted:
"...Do you hear that?" Ahiram suddenly turned towards the window and looked out towards the dark Herapetran sky. He had been resting in the study of one of his follower's fine, palatial manors when he heard something. The nearby servant looked around, nervously. "...No, my lord. I don't." Ahiram continued to stare outside, and listened. Whatever he was hearing, it captured his attention fully. The servant just watched quietly, with not much of an idea what was going on but no desire to interrupt or upset the Horror. Things remained like this for a while, as the two remained motionless and perfectly quiet. Finally, after a few minutes, Ahiram seemed to relax. He turned back toward the servant and motioned towards the door. "Leave me, for a moment. I have something I must do." The servant did as he asked, and soon the room was empty. Ahiram then walked over to the open window and began to whisper to the outside. Reply to Mar'arr'nenkeshet posted:Tell me, who is this that sings in my ear in such a way that not even my servants can hear? Who is this, that is called Mar-arr-nenkeshet...? Your voice feels familiar, I believe I've heard it once before. You are one of those who cried out to the world, weren't you? Before you simply yelled. Now you sing. I wonder what kind of being would do such a thing.
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Apr 27, 2016 01:13
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Mar'arr'nenkeshet Ahiram posted:Who are you? Mar'arr'nenkeshet froze for a moment, before continuing. A new voice. A new Song. It sounded dead in a way, cold, but still held the clear reverberations of a Seed. It wished to swap Secrets of Origin, a deal Mar'arr'nenkeshet was willing to make. For knowing what opposition or opportunity lie in these strange lands would be vital. Reply to Ahiram posted:Know then strange Seed who calls itself Man of Metal that my name is Mar'arr'nenkeshet and it is so for it was what the first beings with the Secret of Clarity of Thought and the Secret of Speech in Air called me and I have changed it not. From them I thus gained this name as I gained their Secrets as I gained all Secrets of all Seeds in what is my Origin where I once was but a small Seed with a weak Song but I've grown strong. I gained their Secrets for I traded with them the Secret of the Truth of Life which is the grandest of all Secrets and they gave their own for it. With their Secrets and mine our Songs of Life and Death can reach new heights and crescendos so high are they that from beyond the Membranes of the Sky I have reached this realm and will sing here now and spread the Secret of the Truth of Life to all corners to all beings and from them take their Secrets so that we may all be stronger and so that Life may prevail always. Okay, let's swap origin stories. Maybe they are just fluff, maybe they count as a Mystery I dunno. Theantero fucked around with this message at 02:01 on Apr 27, 2016 |
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Apr 27, 2016 01:53
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Ahiram The Man Of Iron and Bronze, He Who Stared Death In The Face, That Which Knows No Limits, the Longing For Perfection, the Unbridled Ambition, the Spiked Freak Free Invoke: Friends In The Palace (Brothers & Sisters) Mar'arr'nenkeshet posted:Know then strange Seed who calls itself Man of Metal that my name is Mar'arr'nenkeshet and it is so for it was what the first beings with the Secret of Clarity of Thought and the Secret of Speech in Air called me and I have changed it not. From them I thus gained this name as I gained their Secrets as I gained all Secrets of all Seeds in what is my Origin where I once was but a small Seed with a weak Song but I've grown strong. I gained their Secrets for I traded with them the Secret of the Truth of Life which is the grandest of all Secrets and they gave their own for it. With their Secrets and mine our Songs of Life and Death can reach new heights and crescendos so high are they that from beyond the Membranes of the Sky I have reached this realm and will sing here now and spread the Secret of the Truth of Life to all corners to all beings and from them take their Secrets so that we may all be stronger and so that Life may prevail always. Ahiram paced back and forth as he listened, and quietly repeated the names of the Secrets to himself as they were mentioned. What did all of these things mean? Who were these beings they mentioned? And what, exactly, are Seeds? Are they Souls, or are they something different? The picture that Mar'arr'nenkeshet painted was full of mysterious potential... It still wasn't clear exactly what this strange voice was. But whatever it was, it wasn't the kind of thing that might know too much if he said the words "Ahiram" and "Herapetra." He would have to be cautious around anything that might prove itself to be some kind of worldly rival, or maybe even some Divine enemy... but not in this case. Reply to Mar'arr'nenkeshet posted:I am Ahiram of Herapetra. I was once a mere man, a mortal, but when the power of Death sought to entomb me forever in Hell I broke free of their grasp and escaped. They said that Death was a curse that burdened every mortal but I proved them wrong. When I realized that I had broken free of Death's ghastly shackles, I was able to rebuild my body piece-by-piece until it was something completely anew. I discarded my frail body of flesh and bone and replaced it with iron and bronze. And now I live with a potential much greater than even I had previously realized.
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Apr 27, 2016 03:52
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 Zarkai Last and Greatest Tyrant, Champion of Praxis, Eater of Monkeys In the depths of his Ziggurat, Zarkai considered the offer of his fellow primordial. He snapped his jaws and flicked his tongue, considering his options. As loathe as he was to admit it, there was only one piece of information as valuable as one of these secrets that he had to offer. He inhaled sharply, roared his reply and listened to it navigate through the jungle and beyond. quote:We greet you, fish-psychic! We will accept your Secret about the elder races, and in exchange we will reveal you the Riddle of Blood, of the growth and power hidden within the flesh of monkeys, and of how the beast races came to be. Satisfied, he prepared to focus once again on resting and healing, when he heard something else: Theantero posted:
Another one! And this one... it seemed to hunger for Secrets as well! And was offering many of the same ones that Auluudh had! How peculiar. In his isolation, he had perhaps forgotten the value of communication and trade for a war effort. This needed to be fixed. But not now. Now, he must rest. But even as he rests, his tongue occasionally darts out, trying to get a taste of other Horrors.
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Apr 27, 2016 22:51
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 Agent Reaction: The Grand Duchess The unrest within Pretonia is palpable, and the merchant who plies his wares and words finds it a fertile ground for planting the seeds of majesty, but he is not the only one that seeks to take advantage of it. While the conflicts of the nobility inspire desire for change, and a return to stability that can be fulfilled by One King, there is also someone else that could promise the same, who is not a phantom within a mountain. The merchant hears the words coming across the wind, and perhaps most blasphemously, hears the echoes of Tign's original whispers on the wind with them, as if his awakening inspired the terrrible heresy that is being chanted now, met with the sound of rapturous applause. The merchant scrambles to the square, where a great crowd has gathered around a raised fountain dais, marble and gleaming where narrow streets open into a circle. She stands there, with her mithril sword at her side, wearing armor and silk with equal grace, her hair shining like sunlight. Everything about her is glorious to the people here, and conversely the very presence of the Grand Duchess could seem abominable to a man who has given his soul already to the bounds of one great majesty, everything about her muted in comparison, yet all the more heinous by its attempt to reach such vaunted heights. She calls for justice with a fist in the air. "Too long have the noble houses turned to their own matters, paravailing upon the people their land and bounty, and forcing upon them the demands of corvee. While people starve on the edges of Inaba, the Archduke gathers his forces and feeds his soldiers before he feeds his farmers. That is a house that cannot stand!" Preying upon their nationalistic tendencies and their own biases, the Grand Duchess smiled at the rapport, and continued further into it. Eventually, coming to the point of the spear. "Peace is the destiny of all of Westenfal. We have beat back the dwarves before, united as one, from coast to coast. We have conquered the unconquerable to the north, together, as one people. We turned back the hundred princes from the south before, as one people. We are more than Pretonian, Albigensian, or Vestorian. We are Westenfolk, and we are the people of the Sun!" She turned at that, doing the medieval equivalent of the mic drop by tossing from her orange cloak towards the crowd from her shoulders, and people leaped at the chance to get just a tear, just a piece of that cloak before she and her personal guard, the Queensmen, returned to Castle Castagne. It had begun. The Grand Duchess seeks to create advantage on an existing aspect. This is easier than creating a new one. Difficulty +1. Cleverly Create Advantage.: 4dF+2 1 Tie. Which for this purpose is a success. She gains one invoke of the Longing for Change aspect discovered by Theodo. Divine Reaction: Borso, a Friar The friar stopped upon a rock, all but blowing on his bare feet, dark at their heels and thickened over time. It was a tradition among northron friars to run barefoot, which is surprising considering the terrain, especially around these parts. They eschewed the sandals of the southron friars, believing that this made them just a slice more humble. Borso was a gentler soul than to be part of any one-upmanship like this, so never questioned it really. His calloused heels definitely looked worse for the wear, for their part. Still, he was swifter for it, and had made sure to not simply cross down the road but climb the foothills and mountains here, and the people, mainly miners, had told him that whatever was going on in Openhand Pass, had to do with something beneath the earth. They were digging, so he broke off to the copper mines, and was still a bit away before he’d make it to civilization, but had a mind to see if there was any truth to this, even if he had to cut his feet on his trail to do so. Borso, a Friar, gets a lay of the land around Openhand Pass. Difficulty +2. Carefully Create Advantage: 4dF+3 5 Success with style. He gains the Lay of the Land aspect with two free invokes.
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Apr 28, 2016 03:37
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| # ? Apr 28, 2024 18:31 |
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Hadremor Hadremor slept, and he dreamt..... He dreamt of other beings, like himself but different, crying out, "I have secrets! I have secrets! Come and see! Come and see!" This was a startling dream. It was tempting, oh, so tempting, but Hadremor, even in his dreams, was wise to the way of the world. This was a trap; it had to be. No one would willingly give up secrets. It would be madness. Hadremor was not that naive. The Malkath The agents that the Malkath sent out into this new world set about their business, and their first step was to explore the area for someplace safe to carry out their missions. Their disguises seemed to serve as concealment against the humans, but the city made them nervous. They found a temporary dwelling, and, after offering sacrifice to the Lady, pondered their next moves. But the Malkath were a cautious race. Both their biology and their way of life made them so, and they would not take action until they felt safe. Also, all of the Malkath sent through the portal were clanless; none of the same kith-bond or broodnest, and the relationship between Malkath who lack brood, clan, or kithbond are tense at best. Their instincts warred with their reason, and the Malkath scouts spent some time trying to define the power relationship between them. Thus has it always been with the Malkath, and thus will it ever be, if the seers are to be believed; their mistrust of others a gift from the Lady Herself. [i[]Hadremor is not taking action itself this turn.[/i] .
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Apr 28, 2016 04:43
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