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[Exalted] Infernals: Calibration
INeedNoSalt
with blood on my teethRegistered User regular
with blood on my teethRegistered User regular
Chapter 1: Calibration
Five days ago, five of the Infernal Exalted had set out from the Demon City Malfeas on a trek through the Desert Cecelyne, following orders that had come in the night to each of them.
Now they stood at the far end of their journey, in a forest that had moments ago seemed to be made of sand itself, great towering trees of sand and stone, which had just a moment ago, in the blink of an eye, come to life. But the end of their trip hadn't been so sudden and unexpected; for hours, the green glow of the Malfean sun had faded, until the sky was as it was now; empty of everything, black as far as they could see. No sun, no moon, and no stars. They'd left on the eve of Calibration, but it didn't seem that they'd missed it.
They couldn't be far from their destination ... hopefully, anyway. A Priest of Cecelyne had guided them through the desert, and if she had done well, Nexus would not be far away.
Fun fact: Finding out, roughly, where in the world you are is a Lore roll (or a Stunted roll of some other sort, if you can explain it!) Finding your way out of the forest, unless you're going with a "pick a direction and walk" approach, is a Survival check.
It's possible you'll get lost in the woods! That'll be fun, don't worry.
It's possible you'll get lost in the woods! That'll be fun, don't worry.
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There were inconveniences, however. The empty sky made navigation more difficult... well, in the sense that he couldn't bloody see very well, more than any navigational talent. Truth be told Fasara was practically lost outside the city. The woods never smelled right. They never had. Animals, trees, rocks, and the thrice-damned insects... it wasn't as if one could avoid bugs anywhere in the East, of course, but was there any need to go out here after them?
Still, being somewhere near Nexus was a plus. And he was reasonably certain they were. Unless the priest was playing some kind of a joke on them... in which case Fasara would have to remember to thank the priest properly later.
In the meantime, however, there were more important things to worry about. Like whether one of his companions had any competance with long distance travel. He eyed them each, one by one, quietly, smiling to himself, then spoke up.
"Shall we?"
This should be... entertaining, at the least. One way or another.
She was a tad disappointed that she could not attend the parties, but when Orabilis told you to do something... it generally wouldn't have been a wise idea to say no.
"Unless anyone has any objections," she told the Fiend.
EDIT: Ah. It's a difficulty 5 (Wits + Survival) daily roll, for five days to avoid going in circles. All part of the plan, thanks to my Excellency! Now if someone can get the Lore roll...
Now you're in a forest in Creation! :x
Ano looked at the forest, and sighed. "We've made it this far. Shouldn't be much further now."
She turned to the others in her group and said, "I assume one of you knows enough to tell me roughly what direction Nexus is in?"
Reminded of their present situation by the jabbering of some of the Green Princes with him, Hakun began to look around, trying to figure out where they were. Carefully checking the flora, the fauna, and especially scanning the sky (hoping for a clue in its black depths) for any hint as to where they could be.
Of course, this time she had allies. It's a shame they cannot dance. They simply cannot understand beauty. Fools.
Ah, Dancer. If only I was free, to dance with you once more. But I share your joy in this dance. Creation is much more amenable to such things than Malfeas ever was. The old days were a joy.
"Stanewald wakens. Perhaps we should begin our journey? I have... memories of this place."
A thought stirs. I danced here, once. The trees bent to dance with me, leaves changing colors with the light of the sun. From dawn to dusk, I danced. This way.
Rihanis followed what could have been a path centuries ago, taking light dancing steps across the ground as she let Stanewald, the earth, and memories guide her.
I am not possessed. Thank goodness, that would have been a terrible way to start off.
Also of note: Salty, we should discuss Dancer in Light's Motivation and Intimacies. I was going to use the stuff from DOTFA, but I realize that those may have changed considering his execution in the usurpation.
For intimacies, Dancer's got four, so I assume he'd have one pertaining to his pet I AM node, one pertaining to Stanewald, and two others that I'm not sure of.
His old motivation, 'Find the ideal dancing partner' seems a little meh the more I think about it, so I'm open to suggestions there.
DarkRed is Stanewald muttering in her imprisonment, Yellow is Dancer in Light's past memories. Feel free to speak through these, Salty. I did take two powerful personalities living in my head, after all, as well as my Unwoven Coadjutor, which I see as being DeepSkyBlue.
After a few steps, he turned back to the others. "Well? We are wasting time. Unless any of you have a better idea?"
"As long as the dancer knows the steps, she can lead all she wants."
He gave a bit of a stretch, and began to follow the others, trailing in the middle of the pack, his thoughts turning inwards for a moment. As they walked, his body blurring slightly and melting into a somewhat different form, his breathing, tread, and body language shifting into a different form. When his eyes reopened, they were brown, and his hair was dusted with a light green tint to it. His clothes were those of a laborer, and he had a near-permanent scowl, as well as a habit of spitting to his right and smacking his lips.
For the moment, at least, Fasara was Tarso, a day labororer in a forge in Nexus. His clothes were stained in Nexus snow and soot, and every so often he gave an unpleasant cough. His glances at his companions were more furtive, now, almost paranoid, but he didn't seem afraid so much as resigned. He didn't speak to them further, at least, not until they reached the city.
When he looked back up, Rihanis was already leading the way through the woods, every step part of her dance.
...
They could tell when they neared the city; the sky seemed to light up on the horizon, a glow despite the dark of the starless, moonless sky. As they drew closer, the light ceased to be just a glow, as bright explosions filled the sky, growing as the five Infernals closed on Nexus. Eventually, the forest itself came to an end, and the countryside around the city began. It was several hours walk yet before the quintet closed on the walled city.
...
Finally, they reached the city walls of Nexus, and one of the open gates into the city, one of a dozen or so. The noise coming from within the city itself was boisterous; festivities were in full swing, and the sound of explosions filled the air as fireworks burst in the sky above the city. The gate itself was wide and tall, and a mess of guards waited near it; nearly a dozen men standing around, who stood aside and waited for the five to approach. It was hard to make out much of their features in the dark, although the intermittent bursts of light from the sky served to highlight their features.
The nearest of them spoke when the five were within speaking range. "Ho there," he said. "Toll's four silver dinars a head, or you best all turn 'round now and make your way due out of here."
He didn't begrudge them the fees, though he certainly looked as though he did. With another spit he finally pressed the coins into the guard's hand, spitting a third time and growling at them.
"Thrice-damned tolls, makes it impossible to turn a profit outside the walls... You got your damned money, now get out of the way! I got important people to see." He started to mutter, shaking his head.
"Botherin' us on Calibration, too. Ain't'cha got better places to be? Damned low down y'gotta be t'guard gates on Calibration."
Muttering continually as he shouldered his way through, making a sharp motion for the others to follow, calling over his shoulder without looking.
"Hurry up already, b'fore they try t'charge you some loiterin' fee or something. Y'never know what's in the Civlities t'day."
True enough.
Following the others up to the gate, Yatta stays Fasara's hand before he pays Yatta's toll, and allows the others to go ahead a bit. "I apologize for my... companion's... behavior, my good man. Here," she says, paying her toll, then pressing an extra dinar (or whatever equivalent I happen to be carrying) into the man's hand; "enjoy a drink after you get off duty. I'm sure you don't relish guard duty on the first night of Calibration, and being treated with thoughtlessness can't make it any better." With that, Yatta walks quickly (but not too quickly, lest it be seen as unbecoming) to catch up with the others.
It wasn't often he took on menial roles, really. Occasionally... and only occasionally... he actually liked them.
It was a certain bet that once his business was done, however, he'd find something more suited to his taste.
There were seedier parts of Nexus, though -- where thugs were on the prowl for victims, day or night, calibration or not -- that they might find a room in with a little luck and good fortune.
And there was always the Firewander District, where nobody in their right mind would spend a night, that lodging would be available (perhaps for a cost greater than the few dinars for the rooms themselves.)
"I've always wanted to go to Firewander and dance for the Fae... I've heard that they enjoy dancing. We should go, once we've all done our business here."
As she continued to speak, her eyes were sharp, looking for lodgings on either side of the street as the group progressed into the seedier parts of Nexus.
She thought to herself as she quietly remembered why Firewander was so dangerous- Fae Folk. Well, who's to say she couldn't trick one of them into helping? She slowly began concocting several ideas on things that could advance her goals in the district....
So once he had found where they would be staying... and confirmed that their rooms were paid for... he quietly slipped away into the press of Nexus. Away from the slums and into the only margially less squalid Nighthammer district. He had things to do, after all, and no mention had been made of needing any help doing them.
If the more affluent districts of Nexus were boisterous and exuberant from the Calibration celebrations, then the neighborhood they found themselves in, poor and low-class, was boisterous and violent. The group passed their fair share of individuals engaged in various acts of violence, generally drunken clashes of will in the middle of the street, sometimes glimpses of more nefarious individuals waiting just out of sight down alleyways...
At their crash space, the keeper took their money and offered them keys; a single key for each room the Infernals felt they needed. He seemed to have space to spare, which was odd enough, considering the boom in population Nexus was enjoying that starless week.
Fasara left them there, in the inn (of sorts) that boasted (terrible) live music and a bar in favor of the Nighthammer District -- which was, perhaps, less threatening, but seemingly darker. Merchants and crafters worked their trades here, and the lights on in some buildings suggested they lived here, too -- but it was a night for celebration, and the storefronts were closed down, the carpenter's yards and smithies all shut down for the evening.
The only times he spoke, outside of a soft muttered stream of cursing to himself and spitting, were when he asked those he found on the streets for directions to the workshop of one "Urik the Smith".
Whether Urik was out for the night or not was irrelevant. Finding his shop, and hopefully from there finding some direction to his home (for all Fasara knew, it was attached to the place...), was all that mattered at the moment. From there, well, Fasara could wait for Urik to return and deliver his message.
The mystery of it all irritated him, but he could deal with that irritation. Being in Nexus meant that several possibilities had opened up to him, however, and he was anxious to get on with his "duties" so he could attend to his more private concerns. There were several entities in Nexus that deserved his full attention...
Ano stared at Fasara/Tarso, trying to appraise her fellow cabal member. She had been following him for a bit, trying to figure out just why he had gone off on his own. "I'll bite. Why are you here?"
Her striking appearance drew more than a few gazes, however, and the Dancing Wind loved nothing more than attention. When her dancing steps drew her to the front of the stage, she smiled, beginning her dance anew, this time for the benefit of the entire crowd.
It took mere moments for the musicians to put down their instruments and gape at her, the music forgotten in the motions of her dance. Lend me your dances, Stanewald. These mortals shall love me, adore me, and work for me.
As you command, Dancer. My grace is yours.
Unnoticed in the corners of the room and the cracks in the floorboards, dark blood bubbled up, oozing slowly as Creation responded to the presence of the demon Rihanis carried with her.
Charisma+Performance: 10d10x7 4 successes. It could be better, but with her appearance pretty much everyone should be eating -3 to their MDVs anyway.
Please note if there's any humans with Appearance 1 in the crowd, because Rihanis will suffer her Urge to kill them.
But the pleasure was, as it goes, all theirs -- Rihanis' eyes skimmed her audience and as she caught sight of some of the men and women there, with their abhorrent figures and weasly faces, a hiss welled up in the back of her head, her Unwoven Coadjutor informing her that no, this would not do.
"Gotta message from m'master fer th'smith. Got a commission fer 'im. Problem is, th'sorry bastard ain't easy t'find on Calibration. Damn festivals always gettin' inna way o'business." Fasara eyed Ato with a wary look, spat again.
"Why it's yer business I dunno. Y'been followin' me? Why?"
A few minutes passed, and the Infernal finished her dance with a flourish, bowing to the crowd and the musicians before finally settling down, forcing herself to stop dancing. Applause filled the room, the crowd rather enamored of the spectacle they had just seen, almost certainly better than any dancer the commoners had seen in their entire lives.
Witness my glory, mortals. Love me. Soon you will worship me.
She had seen her victim. The first mortal worshipper of the Dancing Wind. All Creation would follow, watching her dance, but for now, he would do. She sought him out in the crowd, a hand on his shoulder, standing closer to him than necessary, even in the press of the crowd.
"I seek a man. A cobbler, Urik Shoesmith. Seek him out, and I shall reward you with anything you desire." Her breath hot in his ear left no doubt as to the type of favors she was promising.
Then she moved on, sliding through the crowd like a ghost. One of the hideous mortals that made her skin crawl... she had to have release. They could not be allowed to live. In time, they would all die. Sooner, rather than later.
Another touch, another whisper. Even though it revolted her to approach the mortal, her purpose calmed her slightly. "Come with me." Adorjan's blessings would remove the corpses. No suspicion would lie on the beautiful dancer.
She needs to beat the value of (the crowd's manipulation+socialize, divided by two, rounded up.) Double that number means that she'll be able to confirm the intimacy of Love for Rihanis.
Reading Motivation: 12d10x7 4 Damn my dice are bad. My love for the first excellency continues to screw me over.
Personal Essence Pool: 1/12. Stunts will refresh it so I really need those bonuses.
Rihanis moves on to convince someone to find Urik the Shoesmith for her. That's a standard Manipulation+Presence roll, and she's spending her last mote on the excellency to add a single die.
Persuasion!: 8d10x7 3
That probably beats the mortal's pitiful MDV -appearance modifiers, especially if the first roll succeeded and she was targeting someone with an intimacy towards her. Good.
Then she's going to talk to one of the ugly ones, and head to her room.
After that, well, murder will take place.
Plz note stunt dice plz plz. Rihanis needs motes badly.
Of course, that in no way meant that Fasara himself intended to fail at his own work. He shrugged at Aro, then shook his head.
"I don' think that's any o' my business. M'master expects a commission outta him, and he'll get it. Y'can help me find 'im, or y'can shove off and follow somebody else. Yeah?"
In her mind, something wasn't adding up. She was told to make sure everyone was successful and 'knew their place'... but wouldn't it have helped if her masters had told her what they were trying to do?
Instead, he turned away, let her go, and continued his trek through Nighthammer. The liklihood of finding Urik himself tonight might be slim, but the chance of finding his residence, place of work, or someone who could point Fasara to him was somewhat better.
He had trouble putting aside Ano's words, however. You aren't the only one that wants to find him. Much as he understood on an intellectual level that the Yozis and their get were motivated by things the mortal mind could only barely understand, it yet never ceased to amaze him that they so often worked at odds, or failed to coordinate their efforts.
Then again, wasn't that part of why the Green Sun Princes had been given freedom of will? So that they themselves could choose to work together efficiently even when their masters hadn't thought to order them to do so...?
Still... it also meant they could work against one another even in spite of direct orders to the contrary.
Fasara glanced up at the sky, covered in the perpetual haze of soot and ash that was simply inescapable in this part of the city, and shook his head. He would give it another hour before moving on to other tactics. He never limited himself to one approach to a problem...
The Fiend moved on, then, the hiss of her coadjutor flaring in her mind as she closed on the abhorrent, beastly man she'd targeted to sate the wrath of the demon in her mind. Like the other, the man was at a lost for words; he just grinned a wide, cruel grin, showing rotted teeth with thick black plague in the spaces between, vile sickly pits in places where teeth no longer stood. He would follow Rihanis, indeed.
The crowd's overall manip+soc is a whopping 2, and Rihanis is able to spot that at least some members of the crowd really were swayed by her dance -- not all of them are Conviction 1, though, so not all of them can have an intimacy built in one scene.