Yep, seen that one happen. It's even better if you tie the guy up and paint a solar caste mark on his forehead, then let him go and wipe his memory. Immaculates ho!
Backgrounds
Artifact 4 (a pair of Short Daiklaves and a short Power bow)
Henchmen 3 (The Cabal)
Resources 2
Essence 3
Personal 17/17
Peripheral 28/38 (10 Attuned)
WP 7
Virtues
Compassion 1
Conviction 4
Temperance 1
Valor 3
Charms
First Archery Excellency
Second Melee Excellency
Second Stealth Excellency
Spirit-Detecting Glance
Spirit-Cutting Attack
Easily Overlooked Presence Method
Mental Invisibility Technique
Lock-Opening Touch
Shadow Over Water
Seven Shadows Evasion
"We don’t kill for money, we kill for causes. And I prefer to think of it as ‘liberating the unjust from the burden of their sins.'"
Samir, the Still Wind, is a killer. So is the Cabal, his band of sworn brothers. Samir carries the burden of being the eternal watchdog; he watches his enemies, he watches his friends, he watches everyone around him for the one misstep that will mark them for death.
Trained from birth, Samir is a killer and thief with a penchant for overdramatizing. His patron, the guild head in Chiaroscuro, hired the Cabal for a final smash and grab, to steal a pair of elaborate golden swords with the goal of acquiring two priceless treasures and the added bonus of putting down a potential rabid dog.
Destiny has a funny way of turning on you, and instead of dying that night, the Still Wind was born the moment he picked up the exquisite weapons. Realizing the double-cross, he rallied his six brothers and slew his ex-Patron’s agents one by one.
With a death mark on his head, Samir fled with his brothers into the desert. He resurfaced months later to strike a contract with Tsas Khan.
--
"I have need of assassins. You are good at your job. Good enough to escape the Guild in Chiaroscuro, and good enough to sneak into my tent without alerting one of my guards. I will pay in jade."
Samir nodded underneath his mask. "That is good. But I don't kill for money, Khan. That bow. Give it to me and my brothers will kill for your cause."
Khan grinned, pulling the golden bow off of the mantle. "This is a family heirloom. It's called Oathkeeper, each arrow is a promise."
Hey rainy what shall I roll for turning guards into pincushions.
Or should I narrate that. :P
Standard roll to hit, Dexterity+Archery+Weapon Accuracy.
If you want, you can make a flurry up to your weapon's Rate, which is 3 unless you're using a Self Bow(don't, cuz they suck. Longbow would be best for you) Each attack increases the penalty, so a two-attack flurry, the first attack is at -2 while the second is at -3, a three attack flurry goes -3/-4/-5. That's just to the attack roll, not to damage.
For damage, roll your STR plus the type of arrow you're using, minus their soak of 3L. Against these guys, broadheads(+2L) is probably the best choice.
Okay... so I went at this from the angle of the whole 'folk hero' thing and I went about it with that kind of stuff in mind.
THE LONG-ASS STORY BECAUSE APPARENTLY HORSESHOE DOES THIS KINDA SHIT WHEN HE PLAYS EXALTED
Part 1:
The night of the lands of the Govit Tribe fell slowly, its blazing heat disspating into the cool hours, before the cold set it. Among the Govit, the sky was revered as its own being, "Khokh Tenger", as it was the arbiter of their lives. It dictated all that they knew. When to awake, when to sleep. When to move north or south. Long ago, they had feared the denouncers of the sun and moon, and had almalgamated all worship into that single, ever-changing phenomenon.
As the Sun set, Tsas regarded for a moment how Khokh Tenger seemed not to be one, but many. That there were many beings within Khokh Tenger. It's stars, like an army. Its moon, like a spy or watchman. Its clouds, like wise beings. And its Sun... how like a Khan... an Emperor. It controlled everything. Even as it set as he looked behind its shoulder, it spoke to him of its power. For a moment, he held up his hand in a fist, covering its light, yet failing to extinguish the light about it.
Tsas, though still a bit young, was already an accomplished horseman and warrior, but still had much to learn. He always had aspirations of destiny. He knew that something great lay before him... and only this day had he understood. That evening (like many others) he had quietly sneaked out of his family's wool-draped Ger that housed them throughout their nomadic lives, and quietly took his horse from its tether and made for the darkness further to the southeast.
The young warrior Tsas walked into a cave, far from his village, as he had done since a young boy. It was only he who had heard the voice. It was only he who would believe. And it was only he who would bear this knowledge. Somehow he knew... it had always been meant for him.
He entered deep enought to find the ancient altar that he kept clean. It sat before a large throne made of stone. He imagined that once it must have been adorned with weapons and armor, long since plundered by those who could not understand the purpose of such thing. He drew three sticks of insence from his satchel and lit them. He poured oil and lay figs upon the copper tray. He recited the prayer he had heard in the wind.
He looked up and as in all times before (and as he had intended) there sat a figure in the throne. Old and wizened, his features tanned and wrinkled as from a hundred years in the desert, his armor made of ancient metals no longer used, the spear in his hand a timeless symbol of the tribal horsemen of the blazing South.
"King Gezar." Tsas spoke his name and bowed again.
"Rise, boy. I am glad to see that you still remember to pay proper tribute. But I was not expecting you for another four days. What has happened?"
"Something... I cannot entirely explain..."
"Tell me. Or better. Show me."
"Tsas took off his fur hat, and closed his eyes. He concentrated. He thought of his fist obscuring the sun. And then it happened. He felt the warmth on his forehead."
The cavern was faintly illuminated as a strange sigil shone from the young man's forehead. To most people of the desert, such a thing would have inspired fear of the unknown. But to the ancient War-God, King Gezar... it aroused fascination.
"I never thought I would see this, boy."
"What is it?"
"You have been Chosen. Your soul is one of a people who existed even before I was born. Tell me... when was the first time you felt like this."
"I was hunting in the steppes by myself near dawn. It was still mostly dark... and I heard the hooves behind me. They had been watching me, hiding behind the rocks before I was close enough. Ubzeqs."
"Ubzeq dogs. It is unthinkable that the Govi have not destroyed them yet. Go on, boy."
"I had only my bow. They were such a short distance away, shaking their spears and screaming. I kicked my horse and made a desperate attempt to shoot over my shoulder and..."
"And?"
"Time seemed to stop. I have never let three arrows fly faster. And all of them... all straight into the foreheads of the Ubzeq riders. As I calmed down I could feel it, the light on my forehead. And now it seems that all has changed."
"All has changed, boy. Were you not called Bagatur after this. Of course you were. Our people still know some of the old ways. I have always known there was something special about you, boy. And now... I know what that is."
"I don't."
"No matter. I can teach you the ways of war that men have forgotten. How to crush your enemy with fewer forces. To make his men willingly your own. To ride like thunder. To know the horse and falcon like note after me. To strike with the sword and fire the bow from your horse as if it were as comfortable as on your own two feet. You will learn to fight and command as I, the greatest King of the Ancient South, ever did in his time. And then... your Destiny will truly begin."
"I am not sure I understand, Great King Gezar."
"Ha. You will, boy. Come back tomorrow, and every night after. You will not just be a warrior, but a leader of them... and it will take time."
Part 2 (many years later)
"How many did you say you have under your banner?"
"Soon I shall have ten arbans. Enough to be contested by no single tribe."
"A good start. Then truly you are a Khan, are you not?"
"Yes."
"Good. But raising or capturing your own troops is not all a Khan must know. You must know the desert as though it were one of your wives. You must know its secrets, and the things about it that none others may know."
"I am well travelled now, O King Gezar. I have brought to me warriors from..."
"No! Hold your tongue until you know what you are talking about! You may be Tsas Khan, but I am the immortal King Gezar!"
Tsas Khan bowed. He had learned it was best to say nothing when chided by a superior. It was a bit odd to think that this War-God was the only superior he had left.
"Now... here, in the Far South, there are people who live here that few but beings like I may know about. Not humans nor animals. But they are as real as you or I. The very forces of nature in the desert are beings unto themselves, and there are tribes of beings that seem quite human indeed... but in reality are much more."
"Where must I start, O King?"
"You must go see the Rakzha. Perhaps you were terrified to hear tales of them told by your old mother when you were a child. But now you are a Khan. You have no fear of such things. You will march to the South. You will eat no food, drink to water, wear no armor, no saddle, no weapons. Only your horse will you nourish and water. Do you understand."
"Yes, My Lord."
"When the Rakzha sees you, he will come to you. He will know you without words. He will see not your mundane flesh but your soul. You must learn that entering in your regalia and a train of warriors will not suffice for this sort of being."
"And what do I do?"
"Speak. Listen. And learn what it is to rule the Desert. Know this, and no other Khan will stop you.
Part 3 (a short time after part 2)
Tsas Khan had forged deep into the Southern Wasteland, to the Kanum Kotan, the forbidden places beyond civilization. He had seen not man nor beast for miles in any direction. It was as though nothing lived there but the occasional shrub and sprig of grass for his horse.
He had begun walking the horse, to preserve its strength. He had given all his water to it. There had been what seemed like many miles since the last oasis. But he did not let his strength wane... he looked to the sun, and felt its warmth filling him. He would persevere... but he would not do so at the cost of Jalayir. He knew the use of his power was beginning to make it more obvious, but who was there to see such a --
"Hello."
Tsas Khan turned. Behind him, as if he had been resting there the whole time, a haughtily dressed warrior, a turban covering most of his face, sat upon a large steed... the color of which was either confusing under the desert sun, or seemed to occasionally shift.
"Hello. Have you been following me?"
"Yes, I have. You didn't notice because... let's say because I didn't want you to.
"Very well. I am Tsas Khan of the Govit." The Khan hadn't known what to expect after King Gezar's advice. He would assume this was not a trap. If it was? He would make them regret it.
"I am Hyazgar, keeper of these lands. But enough about me... your horse looks parched. My tent is nearby. Will you join me? I offer you water, food and shelter. I hope you know what that means."
The Khan nodded affirmatively, and the two of them walked in silence until they had reached the tent of Hyazgar. The strange figure had not uncovered the face behind his turban, and his somewhat inhuman shape gave some clue. A hint of blue skin and sharp bone spurs occasionally showed through. But for this strangeness, he still moved with an unearthly grace.
"There," Hyazgar finally said, pointing at some blankets draped over some rocks in the distance, near a waterhole. "Plenty of shade, plenty of water for you and your horse."
Tsas Khan gratefull entered and sat upon one of the pillows on the thick rug that lay over the rough stone. As he took water, he also took note of his surroundings. Though it was constructed much in the way that any nomadic tent would have been, there was something about it that was a bit... ostentatious. Silks, fine metals, precious stones, and the small amenities that seem like objects of great luxury in the desert.
"A fine dwelling."
"Thank you. You have come looking for me?"
"Perhaps."
"Who has sent you?"
"King Gezar."
There was a long pause. Hyazgar repositioned himself upon the cushion and leaned in, a pair of burning white slitted eyes gazing out through the darkness of his turban and cowl.
"How do you know that name?"
"I have known him since I was a boy. I am his student. He has taught me the ways of war... and because of it, I have become a great Khan."
"Hm." Hyazgar leaned back. "I also know King Gezar. I have not seen him in a hundred years or so. And you are the Khan who is spoken of upon the wind. At least now I know who told the wind. But enough of that. What do you want?"
"I understand that you have no love for the Empire."
"I spit on the Empire! You people I can live with. You know the decencies, how to pay the proper respect. You know that there is much you do not see, and you are careful not to get in our way. But this Empire, these... rrrgh! They think there is nothing more important than themselves! Do you think I like it, this deep in the desert? I have not seen King Gezar in a hundred years or more because I and my people came here to get away from the bootlickers who serve that she-demon. Her worms never stop taking. Always hungry. Always digging. Always spoiling. Spewing every kind of exrcrement imaginable into heaven and earth."
"I know... almost exactly what you mean. Every day they take more of the land that used to belong to my people. They have driven us into the wasteland, and will drive us further if they are unchecked. This is why King Gezar made me his student. This is why it is the Will of Heaven that I defeat them. This is why so many men have come to my side."
"Men... men are useful. Good warriors. Not my style, but resourceful."
"You command warriors?"
"Yes. You traveled past a great deal of them. Not that you saw them, of course. It is a wonder you found me without getting a knife between your shoulders. That is also impressive."
"I would like you and your people to come back to your old lands, Hyazgar. Together, our warriors will build, our allies will grow, and the South shall be ours again."
"You have ambition, human. And unlike others of your race... it is not blind. You believe out of knowledge, not ignorance. Otherwise Gezar would have no interest in you. Yes. I think I could like this idea."
"Will you swear an Oath of alliegance to me?"
Hyazgar unfurled his turban and cowl. Strangely enough, his face was not altogether inhuman. Really, the only thing inhuman about it was its handsomeness... and the blue tint... and a pair of strangely elongated ears. Maybe a few other things too, but it wasn't what the Khan might have expected. His voice, unobstructed by the cowl and his own masquerading, now sounded human, reasonable, and calm.
"I shall swear such an oath."
As his hand met Hyazgar's and the oath was spoken, Hyazgar smiled as his suspicions were confirmed.
"No wonder my people wouldn't attack you, Crowned Sun. Yes... we will be friends."
Part 4 (some time after that)
He had asked Hyazgar about this 'wind' that had spoken of him. The creature could do little but give him a general direction, but at least it seemed to lead him closer to home. He trekked the desert, again with no weapons or armor, beneath the unforgiving sun and over the hot sands.
During another day of travel, he had come to a fine oasis, and a grateful Jalayir bent to drink from it. The Khan gently patted the neck of the horse, and took the moment to wipe the sweat and grit from his face and neck. He took in a breath... and then the wind rose. He heard his name.
Jalayir continued to drink as Tsas continued to listen. The horse wished to stay at the oasis and enjoy a bit of coolness for a bit, but the Khan would have nothing of it. They pressed onward in direction of the speaking wind.
They walked salt flats, rocky buttes, and more, all the while making for the source of the wind. Finally, among the dunes of the sand, the wind stopped altogether.
"Great."
The Khan looked about in all directions... and there was little to be seen that was helpful at all. Perhaps some spirit had heard him talking with Hyazgar and was playing a trick on him. But... no. Something was... was the sand getting hotter?
Tsas Khan and his steed stepped back as the sand they were previously standing upon shifted... glowed with heat, and then made a small explosion. As he looked up through the haze, he could make out a figure that had enough of a form to make a shadow, but still enough to see through. The most solid part about it was the mask and turban it wore about the approximate location of its head.
"Tsas Khan."
"Yes... I've been hearing a lot of that lately."
"Tsas Khan."
"Yes. I am he who was sent by King Gezer of the Govits. I am Tsas Khan."
The figure paused. The solid bits of him still moved of course, but there was a stillness as he considered this."
"I have heard this name, Tsas Khan."
"Of course you have. This desert --"
"This desert will belong to Tsas Khan. So says King Gezar."
"So says me."
"And what is that? Just a man. I have seen its people come and go in their fleeting lives... brief as clouds, ugly as lizards. I have known King Gezar since it walked among men. Why should I believe its word alone that the one before me is to be like King Gezar?"
"You shouldn't. You should speak with me about that."
"Interesting. And if I were, how would it answer?"
"That like the King in his time, I am not content to see the people, the animals, the spirits... the very land itself subjugated by the Scarlet Empire. You say men are ugly and fleeting. What is it about this Empire that makes them otherwise? I command men... not enough to take the South yet, but I will. I have seen my people treated like insects. I wonder how you have seen your kin and their sacred places treated. Would you wish the same as I?"
"It asks me if I would see the Empire defeated?"
"I do."
"I would see more. I would see the desert swallow her and drown her in blazing sand."
"That... actually sounds better than my idea."
It is truly a warlord. Truly a Khan?
"One who will not rest until I see the lands and beings of the South free, as they always have been."
"Hm. 'Free'. A very Human idea. I have always been amused by it."
"Do you have those who follow you?"
"Oh yes. Those are many. Those who follow Nurmah do so without question."
"Good. I would make an oath to you, Nurmah. That we are allies, and that we shall see that this Empire is destroyed together. Are we agreed?"
"Oath. Yes. I have not made one in... oh, I don't rightly know how long. Amusing. Yes. It shall have my Oath."
Much as with Hyazgar, the mystery of sand and hot ashes known as Nurmah was both pleased and awed to know that the Sun had risen once more... a rise that might herald the fall of an Empire.
"It should speak to another. It is of a different kind, but similar enough. A kindred spirit. Go farther north, to the Howling Canyons. It will be easy to find. Speak the name Gore'Esun. All will be revealed."
Days later...
The Khan continued to march through the desert as instructed... with austerity, without weapons, without provisions. He made sure to tend to Jalayir's needs, but his own survival would take care of itself. As a young man he had lived for over a week in the wastelands as part of one of King Gezar's many trials. Hunger, heat, thirst... all were familiar, and for him; easily endured.
The Howling Canyons indeed revealed themselves. As he walked among them, wolves occasionally gathered at the rim-rocks above him and howled... yet did not attack. He wondered what would have happened had he not followed King Gezar's instructions. The Khan had a feeling it would not have gone well.
Finally, after some time in the canyon, a bestial looking man leaped from the rim above and landed on a large rock below him. He held a simple sword in one hand, and a spear in another. He raised his weapons and screamed, then stared down at the man with bared teeth. As Nurmah had said, there was something of a man about him... and yet, something different. Feral. Wild as his name indicated.
"You are Gore'Esun?"
"How do you know my name?"
"Nurmah of the Ashen Sands guided me to you."
"Nurmah? Bah. Always thinks he's so smart. What do you want?"
"I seek an alliance with you against the Empire."
"The Empire? Hahahahaha!"
There was a cackling of wolves, birds, and other beasts around them as Gore'Esun laughed.
"What makes you think we fear the Empire here? We have no need of them, they have no need of us. If they dare set foot in this canyon we will slaughter them."
Gore'Esun howled, and once again the beasts of the desert echoed him. There was something about them that was not beast alone... they were loyal. Like humans. This was an odd and intelligent being before him. The Khan considered this carefully.
"I'll wager you don't have the strength to fight the Empire. Too much of a coward to join me?"
"Eh? How dare you insult Gore'Esun! I'll skin you alive and you'll watch me dance in your hide!"
"I'll take that wager."
"What?"
"A contest of strength. If you win, you've proven that you're mighty enough to fight the Empire with me. If I win, you're a weakling and a coward... and I shall take your hide."
"Hah! I'll best you easily, you whelp!"
It was as the Khan had hoped. The wild Gore'Esun had taken the wager based upon the test of his strength, and had not given thought to his bargain. The two of them decided to throw boulders for the bet... a bet that Gore'Esun won easily, and without the Khan trying to lose.
"I win! I am Gore'Esun, the strongest of the desert! I fear no Empire!"
"Then you will fight? As you promised. I assume you are honorable as well."
Gore'Esun stopped to think for a moment. He first narrowed his eyebrows, and then grinned.
"You are clever as a Night-Fox. Yes. I will honor the deal. Let us fight this Empire together."
Gore'Esun spit on his palm. Tsas Khan did the same. They grasped hands.
"Then let us make the Oath with the Unconquered Sun as witness, that we fight together as brothers against the Empress and her Vassals, that we honor the pact, that we never turn upon one another nor allow our disagreements to stop us in our goal."
Tsas Khan's caste mark and the Anima of the Horse flared. Jalayir whinnied in approval in the background, and the wolves howled.
"You... you are one of the ancient Falcons. I am honored... and I am ashamed that I have not asked your name."
"I am Tsas Khan of the Govit People. And I am proud to have you bound to me by Oath."
"Return to your people... my beast-kin, even those who will walk and fight as men when needed... they will know the name of Tsas Khan, and they will honor the Pact, as in the Old Days. I am wild... but I remember that which was handed down to me. Take any food and water you may gather, and hunt the antelope here. You are welcome in the canyons."
"Thanks be to you, Gore'Esun of the Wild Desert. I will call you soon."
"I wait in anticipation, Khan of Men... and Chosen of the Sun. When you return to your people, wait for a few days. The Ravens have been telling me riddles that only now are starting to make sense. Damned Ravens, heh. I think someone is looking for you. Someone like you."
Tsas Khan led Jalayir through the canyon. He would return to his people... they would celebrate his coming and he would wait for this other... he knew from King Gezar's tales that the Chosen of the Sun were meant to stand together. He could only hope that the one who came to him would affirm this... and that more allies would be gathered in the coming days and months.
That together, they would sound the Death-Knell of the Imperial Occupation.
THE TL;DR RUNDOWN
King Gezar - no translation necessary Yes it's a statue. Chances are that only Tsas Khan knows what he really looks like.
King Gezar is a hybrid of a historycal and mythological figure from the ancient past of the South. Perhaps the man became a god, or perhaps King Gezar already was a god... people don't ask these kinds of questions in the South. He is remembered but not greatly revered... and certainly not on the personal level shared between he and Tsas Khan. Perhaps he sees a bit of a successor in Tsas, or something greater than himself that he must nurture. Though he seems patient and wise in the ways of war and many other things... I still wouldn't throw down with the dude.
Hyazgar - "Desert Dream" Not the dream with wings and giggling. The one where you wake up screaming.
A fae... thing of some kind who has taken shape in a roughly human form and embodied the desert in his own unique and (of course) over-the-top way. He might be something as powerful as a Kshatriya or Cataphract... or something lower such as a Fae-Blood. In any case, he and his vassals seem to be able to navigate the desert with relative ease, and much prefer the native folk of the desert to the ever-nearer presence of the Empire. Though vain (frikkin fae) enough to give himself a handsome appearance beneath his hood, the rest of Hyazgar's earthly form is very pragmatic and intimidating.
Nurmah - "Hot Ashes" The don't have moisturizer in his part of the Desert. Or... faces, apparently.
An elemental/god-type-thing of the desert, Nurmah has a transient domain. He has assembled himself into a sort of semi-solid swarm of ashes and sand, and leads a force of adherents who are devoted to him and do his will. Whether or not those adherents were human? The Khan didn't ask. At the time, it was more important to have allies with common goals than get picky over appearances. Nurmah doesn't have much in the way of physical fortitude to call upon himself, but I wouldn't want to be on the recieving end of what happens when he decides to release that hot ash and sand boiling about in his corporeality.
Gore'Esun - "Wild Animal" Wild Animal? Naw. He looks... cuddly.
Some sort of half- something or minor god/spirit thing. Maybe even some sort of magical beast in a human form? He does growl and howl now and again. But as we said before, the Khan isn't that prejudiced when it comes to his allies. Whatever the case, this particular ally has what seems to be a human form... a pretty imposing one as well. And it's a good thing to have him as an ally because you do not want to be on the other end of his ragin'. Gore'Esun is a beast of the desert, and considers tribes, packs, and loners to be the way of things there. He intensely hates the Empire, and was all too glad to make a pact with Tsas Khan so that he might let the vassals of the Empress feel his blades.
Hey rainy what shall I roll for turning guards into pincushions.
Or should I narrate that. :P
Standard roll to hit, Dexterity+Archery+Weapon Accuracy.
If you want, you can make a flurry up to your weapon's Rate, which is 3 unless you're using a Self Bow(don't, cuz they suck. Longbow would be best for you) Each attack increases the penalty, so a two-attack flurry, the first attack is at -2 while the second is at -3, a three attack flurry goes -3/-4/-5. That's just to the attack roll, not to damage.
For damage, roll your STR plus the type of arrow you're using, minus their soak of 3L. Against these guys, broadheads(+2L) is probably the best choice.
Crap I don't have my book with me and can't remember what my archery charms do or what my weapon accuracy is.
Also I think the Khan has a composite bow since those laminate horn and wood babies was what the mongols, turks et al rolled with.
Mmmk. Composite Bow is base Acc +0 Damage - Rate 3 Rng 250, strength cap 5. If you took it as exceptional then there's stat bonuses you can add onto that.
Yeah, the supernatural middle-eastern folk tale is something that meshes right in with Exalted. I'm going to have a lot of fun with your followers.
This Charm is a magical flurry of two or more Archery-based attacks. Each attack costs two motes, including the first, and the Exalt can buy up to (her permanent Essence + 1) attacks. This Charm lets the Solar make these attacks regardless of the weapon's Rate, without multiple action penalties, and with a DV penalty equal to the highest penalty for any one attack. Characters using Trance of Unhesitating Speed with a weapon that has a Rate less than 1 must spend four motes rather than two motes on each attack. This Charm need not be Obvious if the character does not exceed the normal Rate of the bow, but it can be Obvious at any time if the activating character desires.
So I can do up to three attacks for a cost of 6m
How many guys are there?
edit: shit then again they're mooks... a regular flurry might be fine... dammit i can't remember things raght now
Trance of Unhesitating Speed lets you make attacks equal to your permanent essence +1, with no multiple action penalties and only the standard dv penalty for attacking instead of the -3 you'd get for attacking three times. It costs 2m per attack, you can buy up to 3.
there's a half-dozen guys or so.
They are going to be very reluctant to go down the hallway if you kill a couple, though.
Samir's group of oathsworn brothers, the seven entered a blood-bound pact when the Guild turned its back on them and tried to have them put down.
Hratli the Spider
"Sometimes death comes at you with a sword, sometimes it's hiding in your wine."
Called the Spider by his brotherhood, Hratli is a master poisoner, preferring to coat his weapons in the venom of the Black Widow. He is grim and sometimes very cruel, taking great pleasure in observing the death of his victims when he can.
He is rough and craggy-faced, his skin tough and leathery from endless days spent toiling in the desert sun as a slave.
Hakim Scorpion-Tail
"Hah, yes. I will cut you into pieces and feed you to my brothers before you draw that sword, yes."
Hakim Scorpion-Tail is a wiry younger man prized for his speed and skill with a sword. Only one of the sworn brothers has been able to beat him in a formal duel, Samir himself, leading Hakim to believe he is the second-in-command. He is generally good-humored about it so the others tolerate his boasting.
Many-Faced Bakir
"Come, come, you have nothing to fear, I am a simple fruit seller!"
Rumors suggest that Many-Faced Bakir has no real face, and the Cabal makes no effort to disabuse anyone of the notion. Exceedingly plain and boring looking, Bakir lived as a court Fool in in the company of dozens of southern lords and chieftains until being sold to the Guild. He is a superb actor and able to change his entire appearance with just a few well-chosen words and a little make-up.
Abdul the Strong
"My apologies, I must now break your legs so you cannot run and alert the guards."
Abdul is big, tough, and educated. Entering the blood bond with Samir more out of curiosity than a desire to kill, he nevertheless performs his duty without question, preferring to stand around and look quietly threatening.
He is a giant of a man, nearly seven feet tall, and built like a brick house.
Rashid
"I believe you, friend, but Samir does not. Shh, shh, it will only hurt for a moment."
In the game of good cop/bad cop, Rashid is the quintessential good cop. He gets a kick out of pretending to be on the side of the mark right until he sticks the knife in their side with a hearty laugh.
Latimer of Oakleaf
"To die a slave or live as a killer? It was an easy choice, mate."
Latimer of Oakleaf is not a native of the south; captured during one of the thousands of wars raging throughout the east, he was bought and sold until finally coming to rest in the hands of the Guild. He is light-skinned and fair to look upon with a patrician's brow, and a life spent as a soldier has given him a cunning mind when it comes to matters of warfare as well as skill in many eastern weapons including short spear and shield combat.
Two swords were forged for the wedding of Daravon the Always Watchful and Nakota'maia by master artisan Carandus and gifted as a pair. Among the many gifts, these two swords were the most splendid; filigreed with moonsilver and adamant and starmetal, the orichalcum blades twinkled and reflected all light. No one understood why Carandus had gifted the two swords to Daravon, as they had never been very close.
One day, Daravon returned home to find his beloved murdered, the two blades soaked with her blood. Taking up the weapons, he named them Solemn Promises and swore to discover the killer. Daravon always kept his promises.
He did not need to look long; his search led him to Carandus' doorstep, and in the middle of the night Daravon snuck into his room, sticking the blades between his ribs.
Daravon took his hands off of the swords, his head bowed. "I have avenged you, my wife."
"She wanted to be killed," Carandus said before dying.
Oathkeeper
Forsaking his worldly possessions, all except his great golden bow, Daravon journeyed into the Underworld to seek out the shade of his beloved Nakota'maia.
"Turn back," said the shades. "You will only find great grief and ruin."
"I will not turn back, I must find her and see her and know that Carandus was lying."
He journeyed onward, ever deeper into the bowels of Hell. He passed the shade of Carandus.
"Turn back," said the shade of his former friend, "You will only find great grief and ruin."
"I will not turn back, murderer! I will speak with her and know that you are a liar."
Pressing forward, Daravon came to a grove that reminded him of the garden where Nakota'maia liked to spend afternoons. She sat on a stone bench looking sad, her stomach still cut open from her death wounds.
"Beloved, I have found you even beyond death. Carandus told a great lie even on his death bed! He murdered you and tried to cast you as the culprit."
"He was not lying to you, Daravon; I have never loved you and always loved Carandus. I did not realize it until we were wed. Carandus took my life because I did not have the courage to do it myself."
Daravon shook with rage and guilt. "I slew an innocent man whose only crime was obeying the woman he loved! I promise you that you will never walk the world, ANY world, ever again!"
The Lawgiver took an arrow in his hand. Daravon always kept his promises.
That's a really cool band of merry men, Arc, but I do have concerns that you having your own multi-talented group of adventurers would detract from the whole point of being in a solar circle - which is having to rely on others for their specialties while contributing your own.
I could see them as being situational henchmen who would show up in your personal fluff or in portions of the game focusing more on your character development, and maybe one or two of them appearing up in other situations where their presence is appropriate.
However, if they're going to be some sort of omnipresent entourage, the game stops being about the interaction between the five of us and starts being about the four of us and the cabal on the side.
The warm Kirighast evening brought out the Harborhead glowflies early in the year.
Scalelord Conlyth Gyler eased the carriage in between the rows of rosebushes of the minor estate, the syncopated tones of both hooves and wheels on cobblestones dying away as he lightly pulled back on the reins.
“Keep your pristine deserts, palatial harems I do scorn;
For my eyes are but reserved, for my man in uniform.”
“Is this you swooning, or is it… chloroform?”
“I think you should leave the poetry to me” Cathak Kailana whispered back, her leg peeking out from under her the crimson ballroom gown and wrapped around the back of Gyler’s as they shared a impassioned kiss. Her hand explored the front of his dress uniform, manicured fingers brushing over buttons and medals, while his played lightly over her the low cut of her gown, up towards the nape of her neck.
“Don’t mess up my hair” she pointedly remarked as she took a hold of his hand and the kiss ended, her eyes fluttering open. “I spent two hours getting it right.”
“I made a few more changes.” She continued, pulling him inside the door of her chateau. The cardinal dress seemed to accentuate every aspect of her movements – formal events were rare in the periphery, and this was the first time they were going to one together.
They had spent many nights together here in her uncle’s estate, almost as many as they had together in the officer’s quarters. He preferred the opulence and sybaritic privacy of the chateau; she the austerity and danger of the vacant barracks or unused briefing room.
“Those old Mark 2’s are so pedestrian.” She commented, easily undoing his belt holster in a well-practiced motion, the flame piece still in it. She snapped her fingers and a servant entered with her head bowed, placing an engraved box in on the table. “For tonight, you’re going to have the brand new version - it’s an advance order. No one else has even seen them yet.”
“Kaila,” he murmured, turning her in his arms so he could get a better look at the shiny metal sidearm, already expecting a more serious request following the generous gift. “Any other changes?”
“Well,” she softly said, “Other women are going to ask you to dance with them.”
“I knew that.” Gyler replied. “You said it was customary, and that I should. If you want me to turn them down, I will. You know I’d much rather dance with you.”
“That’s sweet, but it would be rude to turn them down. But…”
“But?”
“My sister is making a surprise visit, and plans to be there. And she’s going to ask you for a dance.”
“Oh?” he responded, a smile playing across his lips.
“And when she asks, what you need to do is look over at me across the room. I’ll have my back turned or be deep in conversation, but just hold your gaze on me for a few seconds.”
“Like this?” Gyler asked, putting an arm around Kailana and pulling her close, tilting her head up and and staring deep into her eyes, a look of bliss on his face.
“Just like that.” She responded. “And then, slowly and in the most polite and yet judgmental and comparative way you can, you turn her down.”
“You know I’ve always been good at following orders.”
That's a really cool band of merry men, Arc, but I do have concerns that you having your own multi-talented group of adventurers would detract from the whole point of being in a solar circle - which is having to rely on others for their specialties while contributing your own.
I could see them as being situational henchmen who would show up in your personal fluff or in portions of the game focusing more on your character development, and maybe one or two of them appearing up in other situations where their presence is appropriate.
However, if they're going to be some sort of omnipresent entourage, the game stops being about the interaction between the five of us and starts being about the four of us and the cabal on the side.
Oh it's always going to be about our interaction.
We're the leaders.
We run this shit.
Having interesting and colorful allies/underlings as part of our background.
Well I think that can only help, since Rainy will be the arbiter of how much they are used and she runs a damn good game.
Posts
you smell your own entrails and your last vision is a man in gray tattered rags flicking his blade clean
"I'm sorry, 'Your Excellency', but you are no longer needed. Farewell."
:^:
Or should I narrate that. :P
Motivation: To end the reign of the unjust, starting with the local Guild head
Caste: Night
Attributes
Strength ooo
Dexterity ooooo
Stamina ooo
Wits oooo
Perception ooo
Intelligence oo
Charisma oo
Appearance ooo
Manipulation oo
Abilities (* denotes favored/caste)
Archery* 3
Martial Arts* 1
Melee* 4
Linguistics 2
Ride* 2
Occult* 2
Athletics* 3
Awareness* 3
Dodge* 4
Larceny* 3
Stealth* 4
Advantages
Backgrounds
Artifact 4 (a pair of Short Daiklaves and a short Power bow)
Henchmen 3 (The Cabal)
Resources 2
Essence 3
Personal 17/17
Peripheral 28/38 (10 Attuned)
WP 7
Virtues
Compassion 1
Conviction 4
Temperance 1
Valor 3
Charms
First Archery Excellency
Second Melee Excellency
Second Stealth Excellency
Spirit-Detecting Glance
Spirit-Cutting Attack
Easily Overlooked Presence Method
Mental Invisibility Technique
Lock-Opening Touch
Shadow Over Water
Seven Shadows Evasion
"We don’t kill for money, we kill for causes. And I prefer to think of it as ‘liberating the unjust from the burden of their sins.'"
Samir, the Still Wind, is a killer. So is the Cabal, his band of sworn brothers. Samir carries the burden of being the eternal watchdog; he watches his enemies, he watches his friends, he watches everyone around him for the one misstep that will mark them for death.
Trained from birth, Samir is a killer and thief with a penchant for overdramatizing. His patron, the guild head in Chiaroscuro, hired the Cabal for a final smash and grab, to steal a pair of elaborate golden swords with the goal of acquiring two priceless treasures and the added bonus of putting down a potential rabid dog.
Destiny has a funny way of turning on you, and instead of dying that night, the Still Wind was born the moment he picked up the exquisite weapons. Realizing the double-cross, he rallied his six brothers and slew his ex-Patron’s agents one by one.
With a death mark on his head, Samir fled with his brothers into the desert. He resurfaced months later to strike a contract with Tsas Khan.
--
"I have need of assassins. You are good at your job. Good enough to escape the Guild in Chiaroscuro, and good enough to sneak into my tent without alerting one of my guards. I will pay in jade."
Samir nodded underneath his mask. "That is good. But I don't kill for money, Khan. That bow. Give it to me and my brothers will kill for your cause."
Khan grinned, pulling the golden bow off of the mantle. "This is a family heirloom. It's called Oathkeeper, each arrow is a promise."
"I know. I've held it before."
Standard roll to hit, Dexterity+Archery+Weapon Accuracy.
If you want, you can make a flurry up to your weapon's Rate, which is 3 unless you're using a Self Bow(don't, cuz they suck. Longbow would be best for you) Each attack increases the penalty, so a two-attack flurry, the first attack is at -2 while the second is at -3, a three attack flurry goes -3/-4/-5. That's just to the attack roll, not to damage.
For damage, roll your STR plus the type of arrow you're using, minus their soak of 3L. Against these guys, broadheads(+2L) is probably the best choice.
Okay... so I went at this from the angle of the whole 'folk hero' thing and I went about it with that kind of stuff in mind.
THE LONG-ASS STORY BECAUSE APPARENTLY HORSESHOE DOES THIS KINDA SHIT WHEN HE PLAYS EXALTED
As the Sun set, Tsas regarded for a moment how Khokh Tenger seemed not to be one, but many. That there were many beings within Khokh Tenger. It's stars, like an army. Its moon, like a spy or watchman. Its clouds, like wise beings. And its Sun... how like a Khan... an Emperor. It controlled everything. Even as it set as he looked behind its shoulder, it spoke to him of its power. For a moment, he held up his hand in a fist, covering its light, yet failing to extinguish the light about it.
Tsas, though still a bit young, was already an accomplished horseman and warrior, but still had much to learn. He always had aspirations of destiny. He knew that something great lay before him... and only this day had he understood. That evening (like many others) he had quietly sneaked out of his family's wool-draped Ger that housed them throughout their nomadic lives, and quietly took his horse from its tether and made for the darkness further to the southeast.
The young warrior Tsas walked into a cave, far from his village, as he had done since a young boy. It was only he who had heard the voice. It was only he who would believe. And it was only he who would bear this knowledge. Somehow he knew... it had always been meant for him.
He entered deep enought to find the ancient altar that he kept clean. It sat before a large throne made of stone. He imagined that once it must have been adorned with weapons and armor, long since plundered by those who could not understand the purpose of such thing. He drew three sticks of insence from his satchel and lit them. He poured oil and lay figs upon the copper tray. He recited the prayer he had heard in the wind.
He looked up and as in all times before (and as he had intended) there sat a figure in the throne. Old and wizened, his features tanned and wrinkled as from a hundred years in the desert, his armor made of ancient metals no longer used, the spear in his hand a timeless symbol of the tribal horsemen of the blazing South.
"King Gezar." Tsas spoke his name and bowed again.
"Rise, boy. I am glad to see that you still remember to pay proper tribute. But I was not expecting you for another four days. What has happened?"
"Something... I cannot entirely explain..."
"Tell me. Or better. Show me."
"Tsas took off his fur hat, and closed his eyes. He concentrated. He thought of his fist obscuring the sun. And then it happened. He felt the warmth on his forehead."
The cavern was faintly illuminated as a strange sigil shone from the young man's forehead. To most people of the desert, such a thing would have inspired fear of the unknown. But to the ancient War-God, King Gezar... it aroused fascination.
"I never thought I would see this, boy."
"What is it?"
"You have been Chosen. Your soul is one of a people who existed even before I was born. Tell me... when was the first time you felt like this."
"I was hunting in the steppes by myself near dawn. It was still mostly dark... and I heard the hooves behind me. They had been watching me, hiding behind the rocks before I was close enough. Ubzeqs."
"Ubzeq dogs. It is unthinkable that the Govi have not destroyed them yet. Go on, boy."
"I had only my bow. They were such a short distance away, shaking their spears and screaming. I kicked my horse and made a desperate attempt to shoot over my shoulder and..."
"And?"
"Time seemed to stop. I have never let three arrows fly faster. And all of them... all straight into the foreheads of the Ubzeq riders. As I calmed down I could feel it, the light on my forehead. And now it seems that all has changed."
"All has changed, boy. Were you not called Bagatur after this. Of course you were. Our people still know some of the old ways. I have always known there was something special about you, boy. And now... I know what that is."
"I don't."
"No matter. I can teach you the ways of war that men have forgotten. How to crush your enemy with fewer forces. To make his men willingly your own. To ride like thunder. To know the horse and falcon like note after me. To strike with the sword and fire the bow from your horse as if it were as comfortable as on your own two feet. You will learn to fight and command as I, the greatest King of the Ancient South, ever did in his time. And then... your Destiny will truly begin."
"I am not sure I understand, Great King Gezar."
"Ha. You will, boy. Come back tomorrow, and every night after. You will not just be a warrior, but a leader of them... and it will take time."
Part 2 (many years later)
"Soon I shall have ten arbans. Enough to be contested by no single tribe."
"A good start. Then truly you are a Khan, are you not?"
"Yes."
"Good. But raising or capturing your own troops is not all a Khan must know. You must know the desert as though it were one of your wives. You must know its secrets, and the things about it that none others may know."
"I am well travelled now, O King Gezar. I have brought to me warriors from..."
"No! Hold your tongue until you know what you are talking about! You may be Tsas Khan, but I am the immortal King Gezar!"
Tsas Khan bowed. He had learned it was best to say nothing when chided by a superior. It was a bit odd to think that this War-God was the only superior he had left.
"Now... here, in the Far South, there are people who live here that few but beings like I may know about. Not humans nor animals. But they are as real as you or I. The very forces of nature in the desert are beings unto themselves, and there are tribes of beings that seem quite human indeed... but in reality are much more."
"Where must I start, O King?"
"You must go see the Rakzha. Perhaps you were terrified to hear tales of them told by your old mother when you were a child. But now you are a Khan. You have no fear of such things. You will march to the South. You will eat no food, drink to water, wear no armor, no saddle, no weapons. Only your horse will you nourish and water. Do you understand."
"Yes, My Lord."
"When the Rakzha sees you, he will come to you. He will know you without words. He will see not your mundane flesh but your soul. You must learn that entering in your regalia and a train of warriors will not suffice for this sort of being."
"And what do I do?"
"Speak. Listen. And learn what it is to rule the Desert. Know this, and no other Khan will stop you.
Part 3 (a short time after part 2)
He had begun walking the horse, to preserve its strength. He had given all his water to it. There had been what seemed like many miles since the last oasis. But he did not let his strength wane... he looked to the sun, and felt its warmth filling him. He would persevere... but he would not do so at the cost of Jalayir. He knew the use of his power was beginning to make it more obvious, but who was there to see such a --
"Hello."
Tsas Khan turned. Behind him, as if he had been resting there the whole time, a haughtily dressed warrior, a turban covering most of his face, sat upon a large steed... the color of which was either confusing under the desert sun, or seemed to occasionally shift.
"Hello. Have you been following me?"
"Yes, I have. You didn't notice because... let's say because I didn't want you to.
"Very well. I am Tsas Khan of the Govit." The Khan hadn't known what to expect after King Gezar's advice. He would assume this was not a trap. If it was? He would make them regret it.
"I am Hyazgar, keeper of these lands. But enough about me... your horse looks parched. My tent is nearby. Will you join me? I offer you water, food and shelter. I hope you know what that means."
The Khan nodded affirmatively, and the two of them walked in silence until they had reached the tent of Hyazgar. The strange figure had not uncovered the face behind his turban, and his somewhat inhuman shape gave some clue. A hint of blue skin and sharp bone spurs occasionally showed through. But for this strangeness, he still moved with an unearthly grace.
"There," Hyazgar finally said, pointing at some blankets draped over some rocks in the distance, near a waterhole. "Plenty of shade, plenty of water for you and your horse."
Tsas Khan gratefull entered and sat upon one of the pillows on the thick rug that lay over the rough stone. As he took water, he also took note of his surroundings. Though it was constructed much in the way that any nomadic tent would have been, there was something about it that was a bit... ostentatious. Silks, fine metals, precious stones, and the small amenities that seem like objects of great luxury in the desert.
"A fine dwelling."
"Thank you. You have come looking for me?"
"Perhaps."
"Who has sent you?"
"King Gezar."
There was a long pause. Hyazgar repositioned himself upon the cushion and leaned in, a pair of burning white slitted eyes gazing out through the darkness of his turban and cowl.
"How do you know that name?"
"I have known him since I was a boy. I am his student. He has taught me the ways of war... and because of it, I have become a great Khan."
"Hm." Hyazgar leaned back. "I also know King Gezar. I have not seen him in a hundred years or so. And you are the Khan who is spoken of upon the wind. At least now I know who told the wind. But enough of that. What do you want?"
"I understand that you have no love for the Empire."
"I spit on the Empire! You people I can live with. You know the decencies, how to pay the proper respect. You know that there is much you do not see, and you are careful not to get in our way. But this Empire, these... rrrgh! They think there is nothing more important than themselves! Do you think I like it, this deep in the desert? I have not seen King Gezar in a hundred years or more because I and my people came here to get away from the bootlickers who serve that she-demon. Her worms never stop taking. Always hungry. Always digging. Always spoiling. Spewing every kind of exrcrement imaginable into heaven and earth."
"I know... almost exactly what you mean. Every day they take more of the land that used to belong to my people. They have driven us into the wasteland, and will drive us further if they are unchecked. This is why King Gezar made me his student. This is why it is the Will of Heaven that I defeat them. This is why so many men have come to my side."
"Men... men are useful. Good warriors. Not my style, but resourceful."
"You command warriors?"
"Yes. You traveled past a great deal of them. Not that you saw them, of course. It is a wonder you found me without getting a knife between your shoulders. That is also impressive."
"I would like you and your people to come back to your old lands, Hyazgar. Together, our warriors will build, our allies will grow, and the South shall be ours again."
"You have ambition, human. And unlike others of your race... it is not blind. You believe out of knowledge, not ignorance. Otherwise Gezar would have no interest in you. Yes. I think I could like this idea."
"Will you swear an Oath of alliegance to me?"
Hyazgar unfurled his turban and cowl. Strangely enough, his face was not altogether inhuman. Really, the only thing inhuman about it was its handsomeness... and the blue tint... and a pair of strangely elongated ears. Maybe a few other things too, but it wasn't what the Khan might have expected. His voice, unobstructed by the cowl and his own masquerading, now sounded human, reasonable, and calm.
"I shall swear such an oath."
As his hand met Hyazgar's and the oath was spoken, Hyazgar smiled as his suspicions were confirmed.
"No wonder my people wouldn't attack you, Crowned Sun. Yes... we will be friends."
Part 4 (some time after that)
During another day of travel, he had come to a fine oasis, and a grateful Jalayir bent to drink from it. The Khan gently patted the neck of the horse, and took the moment to wipe the sweat and grit from his face and neck. He took in a breath... and then the wind rose. He heard his name.
Jalayir continued to drink as Tsas continued to listen. The horse wished to stay at the oasis and enjoy a bit of coolness for a bit, but the Khan would have nothing of it. They pressed onward in direction of the speaking wind.
They walked salt flats, rocky buttes, and more, all the while making for the source of the wind. Finally, among the dunes of the sand, the wind stopped altogether.
"Great."
The Khan looked about in all directions... and there was little to be seen that was helpful at all. Perhaps some spirit had heard him talking with Hyazgar and was playing a trick on him. But... no. Something was... was the sand getting hotter?
Tsas Khan and his steed stepped back as the sand they were previously standing upon shifted... glowed with heat, and then made a small explosion. As he looked up through the haze, he could make out a figure that had enough of a form to make a shadow, but still enough to see through. The most solid part about it was the mask and turban it wore about the approximate location of its head.
"Tsas Khan."
"Yes... I've been hearing a lot of that lately."
"Tsas Khan."
"Yes. I am he who was sent by King Gezer of the Govits. I am Tsas Khan."
The figure paused. The solid bits of him still moved of course, but there was a stillness as he considered this."
"I have heard this name, Tsas Khan."
"Of course you have. This desert --"
"This desert will belong to Tsas Khan. So says King Gezar."
"So says me."
"And what is that? Just a man. I have seen its people come and go in their fleeting lives... brief as clouds, ugly as lizards. I have known King Gezar since it walked among men. Why should I believe its word alone that the one before me is to be like King Gezar?"
"You shouldn't. You should speak with me about that."
"Interesting. And if I were, how would it answer?"
"That like the King in his time, I am not content to see the people, the animals, the spirits... the very land itself subjugated by the Scarlet Empire. You say men are ugly and fleeting. What is it about this Empire that makes them otherwise? I command men... not enough to take the South yet, but I will. I have seen my people treated like insects. I wonder how you have seen your kin and their sacred places treated. Would you wish the same as I?"
"It asks me if I would see the Empire defeated?"
"I do."
"I would see more. I would see the desert swallow her and drown her in blazing sand."
"That... actually sounds better than my idea."
It is truly a warlord. Truly a Khan?
"One who will not rest until I see the lands and beings of the South free, as they always have been."
"Hm. 'Free'. A very Human idea. I have always been amused by it."
"Do you have those who follow you?"
"Oh yes. Those are many. Those who follow Nurmah do so without question."
"Good. I would make an oath to you, Nurmah. That we are allies, and that we shall see that this Empire is destroyed together. Are we agreed?"
"Oath. Yes. I have not made one in... oh, I don't rightly know how long. Amusing. Yes. It shall have my Oath."
Much as with Hyazgar, the mystery of sand and hot ashes known as Nurmah was both pleased and awed to know that the Sun had risen once more... a rise that might herald the fall of an Empire.
"It should speak to another. It is of a different kind, but similar enough. A kindred spirit. Go farther north, to the Howling Canyons. It will be easy to find. Speak the name Gore'Esun. All will be revealed."
Days later...
The Howling Canyons indeed revealed themselves. As he walked among them, wolves occasionally gathered at the rim-rocks above him and howled... yet did not attack. He wondered what would have happened had he not followed King Gezar's instructions. The Khan had a feeling it would not have gone well.
Finally, after some time in the canyon, a bestial looking man leaped from the rim above and landed on a large rock below him. He held a simple sword in one hand, and a spear in another. He raised his weapons and screamed, then stared down at the man with bared teeth. As Nurmah had said, there was something of a man about him... and yet, something different. Feral. Wild as his name indicated.
"You are Gore'Esun?"
"How do you know my name?"
"Nurmah of the Ashen Sands guided me to you."
"Nurmah? Bah. Always thinks he's so smart. What do you want?"
"I seek an alliance with you against the Empire."
"The Empire? Hahahahaha!"
There was a cackling of wolves, birds, and other beasts around them as Gore'Esun laughed.
"What makes you think we fear the Empire here? We have no need of them, they have no need of us. If they dare set foot in this canyon we will slaughter them."
Gore'Esun howled, and once again the beasts of the desert echoed him. There was something about them that was not beast alone... they were loyal. Like humans. This was an odd and intelligent being before him. The Khan considered this carefully.
"I'll wager you don't have the strength to fight the Empire. Too much of a coward to join me?"
"Eh? How dare you insult Gore'Esun! I'll skin you alive and you'll watch me dance in your hide!"
"I'll take that wager."
"What?"
"A contest of strength. If you win, you've proven that you're mighty enough to fight the Empire with me. If I win, you're a weakling and a coward... and I shall take your hide."
"Hah! I'll best you easily, you whelp!"
It was as the Khan had hoped. The wild Gore'Esun had taken the wager based upon the test of his strength, and had not given thought to his bargain. The two of them decided to throw boulders for the bet... a bet that Gore'Esun won easily, and without the Khan trying to lose.
"I win! I am Gore'Esun, the strongest of the desert! I fear no Empire!"
"Then you will fight? As you promised. I assume you are honorable as well."
Gore'Esun stopped to think for a moment. He first narrowed his eyebrows, and then grinned.
"You are clever as a Night-Fox. Yes. I will honor the deal. Let us fight this Empire together."
Gore'Esun spit on his palm. Tsas Khan did the same. They grasped hands.
"Then let us make the Oath with the Unconquered Sun as witness, that we fight together as brothers against the Empress and her Vassals, that we honor the pact, that we never turn upon one another nor allow our disagreements to stop us in our goal."
Tsas Khan's caste mark and the Anima of the Horse flared. Jalayir whinnied in approval in the background, and the wolves howled.
"You... you are one of the ancient Falcons. I am honored... and I am ashamed that I have not asked your name."
"I am Tsas Khan of the Govit People. And I am proud to have you bound to me by Oath."
"Return to your people... my beast-kin, even those who will walk and fight as men when needed... they will know the name of Tsas Khan, and they will honor the Pact, as in the Old Days. I am wild... but I remember that which was handed down to me. Take any food and water you may gather, and hunt the antelope here. You are welcome in the canyons."
"Thanks be to you, Gore'Esun of the Wild Desert. I will call you soon."
"I wait in anticipation, Khan of Men... and Chosen of the Sun. When you return to your people, wait for a few days. The Ravens have been telling me riddles that only now are starting to make sense. Damned Ravens, heh. I think someone is looking for you. Someone like you."
Tsas Khan led Jalayir through the canyon. He would return to his people... they would celebrate his coming and he would wait for this other... he knew from King Gezar's tales that the Chosen of the Sun were meant to stand together. He could only hope that the one who came to him would affirm this... and that more allies would be gathered in the coming days and months.
That together, they would sound the Death-Knell of the Imperial Occupation.
THE TL;DR RUNDOWN
King Gezar - no translation necessary
Yes it's a statue. Chances are that only Tsas Khan knows what he really looks like.
Hyazgar - "Desert Dream"
Not the dream with wings and giggling. The one where you wake up screaming.
Nurmah - "Hot Ashes"
The don't have moisturizer in his part of the Desert. Or... faces, apparently.
Gore'Esun - "Wild Animal"
Wild Animal? Naw. He looks... cuddly.
Crap I don't have my book with me and can't remember what my archery charms do or what my weapon accuracy is.
Also I think the Khan has a composite bow since those laminate horn and wood babies was what the mongols, turks et al rolled with.
I went for the crazy eastern folk story thing where the hero goes out and gets strange supernatural characters to help him.
Glad you approve.
Yeah, the supernatural middle-eastern folk tale is something that meshes right in with Exalted. I'm going to have a lot of fun with your followers.
DANGIT I CANNOT REMEMBER
So I can do up to three attacks for a cost of 6m
How many guys are there?
edit: shit then again they're mooks... a regular flurry might be fine... dammit i can't remember things raght now
there's a half-dozen guys or so.
They are going to be very reluctant to go down the hallway if you kill a couple, though.
(These guys are at DV 1, btw.)
or more than one
this first attack is apparently going to be a refreshin' course on combat
Don't forget to get your stunt bonuses when you make your attacks - describe it and then have Rain tell you how awesome you were.
hey man epicness don't just happen
i had to do some research on mongolian language and legends for that epicness
plus years of reading folk tales
(and hellboy comics)
have some respect for the cra(p)ft
if i get stunt dice someone roll them who is good at rolling dice
this also applies to the damages
later!
I need to start on something epic.
Samir's group of oathsworn brothers, the seven entered a blood-bound pact when the Guild turned its back on them and tried to have them put down.
Hratli the Spider
Called the Spider by his brotherhood, Hratli is a master poisoner, preferring to coat his weapons in the venom of the Black Widow. He is grim and sometimes very cruel, taking great pleasure in observing the death of his victims when he can.
He is rough and craggy-faced, his skin tough and leathery from endless days spent toiling in the desert sun as a slave.
Hakim Scorpion-Tail
Hakim Scorpion-Tail is a wiry younger man prized for his speed and skill with a sword. Only one of the sworn brothers has been able to beat him in a formal duel, Samir himself, leading Hakim to believe he is the second-in-command. He is generally good-humored about it so the others tolerate his boasting.
Many-Faced Bakir
Rumors suggest that Many-Faced Bakir has no real face, and the Cabal makes no effort to disabuse anyone of the notion. Exceedingly plain and boring looking, Bakir lived as a court Fool in in the company of dozens of southern lords and chieftains until being sold to the Guild. He is a superb actor and able to change his entire appearance with just a few well-chosen words and a little make-up.
Abdul the Strong
Abdul is big, tough, and educated. Entering the blood bond with Samir more out of curiosity than a desire to kill, he nevertheless performs his duty without question, preferring to stand around and look quietly threatening.
He is a giant of a man, nearly seven feet tall, and built like a brick house.
Rashid
In the game of good cop/bad cop, Rashid is the quintessential good cop. He gets a kick out of pretending to be on the side of the mark right until he sticks the knife in their side with a hearty laugh.
Latimer of Oakleaf
Latimer of Oakleaf is not a native of the south; captured during one of the thousands of wars raging throughout the east, he was bought and sold until finally coming to rest in the hands of the Guild. He is light-skinned and fair to look upon with a patrician's brow, and a life spent as a soldier has given him a cunning mind when it comes to matters of warfare as well as skill in many eastern weapons including short spear and shield combat.
One day, Daravon returned home to find his beloved murdered, the two blades soaked with her blood. Taking up the weapons, he named them Solemn Promises and swore to discover the killer. Daravon always kept his promises.
He did not need to look long; his search led him to Carandus' doorstep, and in the middle of the night Daravon snuck into his room, sticking the blades between his ribs.
Daravon took his hands off of the swords, his head bowed. "I have avenged you, my wife."
"She wanted to be killed," Carandus said before dying.
Oathkeeper
"Turn back," said the shades. "You will only find great grief and ruin."
"I will not turn back, I must find her and see her and know that Carandus was lying."
He journeyed onward, ever deeper into the bowels of Hell. He passed the shade of Carandus.
"Turn back," said the shade of his former friend, "You will only find great grief and ruin."
"I will not turn back, murderer! I will speak with her and know that you are a liar."
Pressing forward, Daravon came to a grove that reminded him of the garden where Nakota'maia liked to spend afternoons. She sat on a stone bench looking sad, her stomach still cut open from her death wounds.
"Beloved, I have found you even beyond death. Carandus told a great lie even on his death bed! He murdered you and tried to cast you as the culprit."
"He was not lying to you, Daravon; I have never loved you and always loved Carandus. I did not realize it until we were wed. Carandus took my life because I did not have the courage to do it myself."
Daravon shook with rage and guilt. "I slew an innocent man whose only crime was obeying the woman he loved! I promise you that you will never walk the world, ANY world, ever again!"
The Lawgiver took an arrow in his hand. Daravon always kept his promises.
I could see them as being situational henchmen who would show up in your personal fluff or in portions of the game focusing more on your character development, and maybe one or two of them appearing up in other situations where their presence is appropriate.
However, if they're going to be some sort of omnipresent entourage, the game stops being about the interaction between the five of us and starts being about the four of us and the cabal on the side.
The warm Kirighast evening brought out the Harborhead glowflies early in the year.
Scalelord Conlyth Gyler eased the carriage in between the rows of rosebushes of the minor estate, the syncopated tones of both hooves and wheels on cobblestones dying away as he lightly pulled back on the reins.
“Keep your pristine deserts, palatial harems I do scorn;
For my eyes are but reserved, for my man in uniform.”
“Is this you swooning, or is it… chloroform?”
“I think you should leave the poetry to me” Cathak Kailana whispered back, her leg peeking out from under her the crimson ballroom gown and wrapped around the back of Gyler’s as they shared a impassioned kiss. Her hand explored the front of his dress uniform, manicured fingers brushing over buttons and medals, while his played lightly over her the low cut of her gown, up towards the nape of her neck.
“Don’t mess up my hair” she pointedly remarked as she took a hold of his hand and the kiss ended, her eyes fluttering open. “I spent two hours getting it right.”
“I made a few more changes.” She continued, pulling him inside the door of her chateau. The cardinal dress seemed to accentuate every aspect of her movements – formal events were rare in the periphery, and this was the first time they were going to one together.
They had spent many nights together here in her uncle’s estate, almost as many as they had together in the officer’s quarters. He preferred the opulence and sybaritic privacy of the chateau; she the austerity and danger of the vacant barracks or unused briefing room.
“Those old Mark 2’s are so pedestrian.” She commented, easily undoing his belt holster in a well-practiced motion, the flame piece still in it. She snapped her fingers and a servant entered with her head bowed, placing an engraved box in on the table. “For tonight, you’re going to have the brand new version - it’s an advance order. No one else has even seen them yet.”
“Kaila,” he murmured, turning her in his arms so he could get a better look at the shiny metal sidearm, already expecting a more serious request following the generous gift. “Any other changes?”
“Well,” she softly said, “Other women are going to ask you to dance with them.”
“I knew that.” Gyler replied. “You said it was customary, and that I should. If you want me to turn them down, I will. You know I’d much rather dance with you.”
“That’s sweet, but it would be rude to turn them down. But…”
“But?”
“My sister is making a surprise visit, and plans to be there. And she’s going to ask you for a dance.”
“Oh?” he responded, a smile playing across his lips.
“And when she asks, what you need to do is look over at me across the room. I’ll have my back turned or be deep in conversation, but just hold your gaze on me for a few seconds.”
“Like this?” Gyler asked, putting an arm around Kailana and pulling her close, tilting her head up and and staring deep into her eyes, a look of bliss on his face.
“Just like that.” She responded. “And then, slowly and in the most polite and yet judgmental and comparative way you can, you turn her down.”
“You know I’ve always been good at following orders.”
“That’s why you’re my toy soldier.”
Oh it's always going to be about our interaction.
We're the leaders.
We run this shit.
Having interesting and colorful allies/underlings as part of our background.
Well I think that can only help, since Rainy will be the arbiter of how much they are used and she runs a damn good game.
Perc + Wood: 3d10x7 0
wood
is the door obviously locked?
I like that her name is Kailana.
It makes me imagine that this past lover of his was another mask of the Viridian Phoenix in Arc's game.
Oh, Tai Lee.
You little minx you, finding those who are fated to change the world.
Hahaha.
Man, she was all biding her time.
"When is this guy going to friggin' Exalt already, I need to get laid."
And get back to The Mystery of the Hard Wood Door
If Gyler doesn't want to - say - try prying it open with his sword.
The Khan could just knock.
I mean y'never know, right?
two successes