[Exalted 2e] Chosen of the Second Age
Delemental
First Post
Exalted tends to lend itself to moments of dramatic tension.
I didn't follow the exact plot of the 'Tomb of Five Corners' adventure module when I wrote my story. I only used elements from that adventure for the setting, just to give myself a location and a name for the bad guy. The rest was just a convenient excuse to get everyone in the same place.
Delemental
First Post
The four Chosen stood outside the gated wall surrounding Tunato’s estate. The manor sat upon a small rise, and was dimly lit from within. They surveyed the house, mentally matching details to the sketches of the interior that Ghost had obtained.
“Besides the main doors,” he said, “there are doors on either side leading to the verandas, a second floor balcony there, and a door on the fourth floor roof to access the cisterns. All are likely to be guarded, though I would guess the roof would be the best choice – I expect the bulk of the guards are on the main floor, and of course there are no windows on the roof from which our activity can be observed.”
“Kaliel and I could provide a distraction and draw their attention,” Zanka suggested.
“Tunato’s guards are likely to be more seasoned than that,” Ghost said.
“And a distraction might draw the wrong sort of attention,” Kaliel added.
“I suggest you two remain outside the grounds, and watch for people coming and going. Tunato may be sending messengers to check on the status of his home, especially with the Gentle Art of Persuasion in his possession. And if something goes wrong, a runner may well be sent to alert the city guards, or Tunato. That runner will need to be intercepted. And should things truly go wrong, then you can cover our escape.”
“We can also enter the home if you call for help,” Kaliel said. “I believe the design of the courtyard will amplify any noise coming from the manor.”
Zanka looked through the gate, frowning. “This appears to be an Earth-aspected manse. Would not such energies serve to deaden any sound?”
“No, I am certain of this,” Kaliel insisted.*
“It seems we disagree,” Ghost said. “Rather than argue the point, let us assume that the most disadvantageous option is the truth; thus, Zanka is correct, and sound will not travel. Our cries for help will not be heard.”
“I note that you continue to say ‘our’,” Ayama noted. “Do you intend for me to accompany you? I should point out that I have no great skill in these matters.”
“Yet you are most capable of the three,” Ghost countered. “Kaliel’s armor precludes all efforts at stealth, and you are more physically capable than Zanka. And you are capable in a fight, should we need to escape. I have more than enough skill in such matters to compensate for your lack of experience.” He smiled wickedly at her. “So, shall we go and clean Tunato’s home?”
“One moment,” Kaliel said. He stepped closer to the gate and surveyed the grounds. “Do you not see it?”
“See what?” Ayama asked.
“There are no animals on the grounds.”
“So Tunato doesn’t use guard dogs,” Ghost said. “That will make this easier.”
“No, not just dogs. There are no birds, no rats, no insects.”
Ghost peered at the grounds. “Interesting. Wait here a moment.” The Night Caste Solar moved away from the house, heading down a nearby alley. He returned a few moments later holding a struggling alley cat. Ghost unceremoniously tossed the cat over the wall into Tunato’s property. The instant it landed, the cat yowled in terror, and ran as fast as it could to a tree near the wall, running across a branch and leaping over the wall. It continued running even as it landed in the street, disappearing into the night.
“So something is terrifying the animals,” Ghost said. “Perhaps a function of the manse’s power. We shall have to see if we feel that same fear.” He wore a smile of satisfaction.
“And you had to torment a cat for that?” Ayama said accusingly.
“The animal was fortunate. I was afraid that it might die horribly on Tunato’s estate, which would have made our approach more troublesome. ”
Without another word, Ghost and Ayama slipped through the gates and onto the grounds. Most of the land surrounding the house was dotted with manicured topiary and decorative trees, save for a clear area about ten feet from the manor itself. The two Solars moved swiftly toward the back of the house, as there were no windows on the main floor there. Ayama marveled at how Ghost seemed to live up to his name, flitting silently from tree to tree. He paused now and then to guide Ayama, showing her the best path to take or pointing out obstructions that might make noise.
Within a few minutes, they stood at the back of the house, looking up toward the roof four floors above.
“I have brought a rope,” Ayama said. “You can lower it when you reach the top.”
“Unnecessary,” Ghost replied. “Climb upon my back.” When she did so, Ghost took the rope and quickly fashioned a harness binding the two of them together. “Now, please control your urges and keep your hands from wandering. I must concentrate.”
Ayama smiled despite herself, for she knew Ghost’s comment was made in pure jest. Though she knew her companion certainly had an appetite for carnal pleasures, that issue had been resolved between them months ago, before they had met Kaliel and Zanka. It had been remarkably simple, she recalled; one night he had suggested they lie together, and she had politely declined, feeling as though he were simply humoring a woman who was old enough to be his mother. He had never brought the subject up with her again.
She was broken out of her reminiscence by the realization that they had just arrived at the roof. Ghost had managed to scale the outer wall free-handed, while carrying her on his back. Though he did not have Kaliel’s massive frame, Ghost was still remarkably athletic. He quickly untied the harness and coiled the rope while looking around. He inspected the cisterns atop the roof, noting that the supply pipes were too small to use for access. He then moved to the door on the roof, and after listening briefly, opened it.
The fourth floor was mostly used for storage, holding those household items required when the factor was lodging several guests. From the look of the rooms, they had not been disturbed for many months. Ghost and Ayama swiftly moved to the stairs, but were surprised when they encountered a pair of guards coming up the stairs. Neither group had heard the other approaching, and so there was a brief moment of uncertain silence. But both guards were looking at Ayama; Ghost remained unseen, as he had used Essence to mask his presence.
A pair of amber-colored boomerangs flying from out of nowhere soon established his presence. Each guard was struck, but much of the force was absorbed by the chain shirt they wore. They almost immediately dropped into martial arts stances, and one attempted to sweep Ayama’s legs while the other flung a needle at Ghost. Ayama immediately reacted, hooking a nearby pedestal with her leg and hurling it at her attacker to disrupt his attack, and then leapt over the pedestal as it flew, looking to push the guard down the stairs. But the guard kicked the flying pedestal into the air back at Ayama, spoiling her attack much as she had done for his. As she squared off against him again, Ayama realized that the guards were fighting with a style normally only taught to Terrestrial exalts; she had seen her old mentor, V’neef Odaask, practicing this style.
“Your master was impressive,” she commented. “You require more practice.”
Meanwhile Ghost, who had dodged the needle thrown at him, had leapt atop the banister and slid down, moving to cut off the guards’ retreat by getting behind them. His boomerangs flashed out again, but this time each guard was ready and avoided the razor sharp edges. Ghost realized that these guards would not be as easily dispatched as he’d believed.
The two guards switched opponents, and one threw another needle at Ghost while the other moved to grab on to Ayama. In the flickering lantern light, it was difficult for Ghost to tell which hand held the needle, only catching the glimmer in midair as if flew toward him. Ghost grabbed a nearby urn and swept it around in front of him, hoping to deflect it, but it flew past and lodged in his chest. Ghost put his hand up and withdrew the needle, which was coated in some dark substance. Ghost looked at the guard, and waggled his finger in disapproval; the needle had failed to penetrate the starmetal shirt he wore under his clothes. Ghost’s boomerang again flashed by the second guard, missing him by a wide margin. The guard smirked, and began to close on the man below him, until he heard a snap. Looking up, he saw that the returning boomerang had severed the wire holding up one of the massive portraits on the wall, which crashed down upon the hapless guard, knocking him unconscious.
A few feet away, Ayama and the guard flew at each other. The guard came in high trying to tackle the Solar, but she grabbed him in midair and slammed him into the stairs. Realizing that he could not handle these intruders, the guard shouted for help, and then started bolting down the stairs, barely evading Ayama’s grasp. Ghost tried to toss the poisoned needle at him, but it only grazed his neck without penetrating.
“Come on,” Ghost said, beckoning Ayama down the stairs. “The other guards will be here soon.”
“Wait.” Ayama looked back at the unconscious guard under the portrait. She turned back to Ghost. “How fast can you undress a man?” she asked.
۞
Kaliel saw the lantern lights inside the house start to move more quickly, converging on the south end of the house. “They are in trouble,” he declared, drawing his axe. He strode purposefully up to the door, followed by Zanka, and knocked loudly on the door. He waited for the span of two breaths, and knocked again.
“What are you doing?” Zanka asked.
“Giving them the opportunity to settle this amiably,” he said. “But it appears they will not accept my offer.”
Kaliel hefted his axe and brought it down into the heavy oak doors, slicing through the bar on the other side. He then planted a heavy boot into the two-inch thick door, sending it flying into kindling. The two guards who had clustered around the door were peppered with shards of wood. Kaliel rushed in amidst the confusion and laid into the guards with righteous fury. His axe came down between the two guards, cleanly missing both, but when they both looked down at the massive blade, he came up again, twisting it so the flat of the blade would catch them both and knock them out. However, they managed to twist away in the nick of time; a few strands of hair floated into the air as their beards were shaved down to the skin.
The guards rushed in, trying to subdue the massive armored figure in the doorway. One grabbed onto him, and was shrugged aside, while another flung one of his poisoned needles at Kaliel. The needle just managed to strike the Solar in the neck, and he felt the toxin in his blood, burning as it traversed his body. Gritting his teeth, Kaliel braced himself as an onslaught of fists and feet assailed him. He noted that his opponents were striking with far more force and skill that mere mortals, and for the first time he grew concerned.
Two floors above, Ayama and Ghost had heard the tremendous crash downstairs, and could hear that most of the guards had gone to deal with the disturbance. Some, at least, were continuing up the stairs to investigate the first cry of alarm. The two Solars stood in an unused sitting room; Ghost was dressed in the guard’s uniform, and had Ayama in a subduing grip. The real guard, still quite unconscious, had been rolled up in a carpet and shoved underneath a couch in the room.
“Bring your left arm up more,” Ayama coached Ghost. “They must think I am completely helpless.”
They saw the flash of a lantern in the hallway outside. “In here!” Ghost shouted. “I have one of them!”
The door burst open, and a guard looked at the two in the dark room. Ayama struggled a bit, as though she were trying unsuccessfully to escape the grip of the guard who had captured her. Ayama cried out, and very convincing tears rolled down her cheeks.
The guard in the door peered through the darkness at them, then straightened. “Subdue her and roll her in a rug until we can deal with her,” he growled at Ghost. “There’s trouble downstairs.” With that, the guard turned and ran down the stairs.
“Well,” Ghost said, releasing Ayama. “That was easy enough.”
“Perhaps we should go and help our companions,” Ayama said.
“No.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“I came here to rob this house,” Ghost said. “I will be the first to steal successfully from Factor Tunato. I must complete the mission. You go and help them, and I will come when I am finished, if Kaliel has not slain them all by then.”
Of course, he could not know that this task was proving far more challenging for the Auric Lion than he had thought. He had managed to push his way into the house, but was still being battered. The guards were somewhat startled when a slender, pale woman suddenly somersaulted between the intruder’s legs, lashing out with a fist at the closest guard. He managed to avoid the quick strike, and then grabbed Zanka around the midsection, pulling her up off her feet as she screamed and struggled to get loose.
With Zanka now in danger, Kaliel no longer felt the need for self-restraint. His aura began to glow with a golden light as he allowed the flows of Essence to guide his blade, effortlessly knocking aside two of the other guards blows and then following with a devastating upward slice, lifting the guard off the ground and slamming him to the floor. Scrambling to his feet, the bleeding guard ran away from the battle and fled up the stairs.
The guard ran to the second floor, and saw one of his compatriots in the hallway. “What is it?” the man asked, grabbing the wounded guard by the shoulders.
“The intruders! They are Anathema!” the guard shrieked.
The other guard smiled. “I know.”
It was then that the wounded guard noticed the poisoned needle that had been stuck in his neck.
One floor below, Zanka struggled in the other guard’s grip. And then, as three more rushed in, she seemed to relax. “Please, help me!” she pleaded with the new arrivals, tears streaming down her face. Their minds clouded by Zanka’s holy power, they responded by flinging poisoned darts at their companion. As the toxin took effect, the guard’s eyes began to unfocus, and his grip on Zanka loosened. The three guards followed this by a series of well-aimed kicks, which sent their ally to the floor in a heap. Zanka, keeping up appearances, also collapsed.
Kaliel tried to build upon Zanka’s ruse. “Tie him up! I saw him grab this woman in the street!” But despite the fact that the authority of the Chosen of the Unconquered Sun is absolute, the guards ignored Kaliel’s commands. Instead, they turned upon the man with the bright aura of the Anathema. “Stay behind us,” one of the guards growled at Zanka. “We shall protect you from this Anathema.”
Already sorely wounded, Kaliel grimaced at the thought of facing three fresh guards alone. But then he saw Ayama come down the stairs and run up to him, placing her hand upon his chest as she rushed up. Soothing power flowed into the Dawn’s body, easing the pain of his wounds. Ayama then jumped up and planted her feet into Kaliel’s chest, springboarding off his massive frame to leap over the heads of the guards. Refreshed, Kaliel hefted his weapon, then charged the closest guard, while one of the other guards tried to sweep out Ayama’s legs but missed. The third guard picked up the apparently unconscious Zanka. “I’ll get her out of here!” he shouted to his companions.
The guard facing Kaliel leapt into the air to deliver a kick to the head, but before he could reach the massive Northerner, Kaliel slapped the incoming leg aside, and then used the opening created to cleave into the man’s groin. The guard twisted just enough to avoid being bisected, but landed with a heavy thud, and quickly scrambled toward the rear door, bleeding from a gash in his inner thigh. But his escape was cut off when Ayama quickly ran up the stairs a few steps and then swung around on the railing, kicking the guard in the head and propelling him back toward Kaliel. Desperate, the wounded guard used a maneuver that sent the armored warrior to the ground.
Zanka heard the crash as Kaliel fell. “Please,” she said in feigned weakness to the guard carrying her away, “help my friend, the woman on the stairs.” The guard immediately stopped and set Zanka down. “Wait here,” he commanded, and ran back to the battle. The guard ran in just in time to see Kaliel rise and lay his opponent low by tearing off a section of the banister and crushing his skull. The guard who had been carrying Zanka started to rush in, but was dragged to the ground when the woman he had ‘rescued’ grabbed onto his neck, pulling him down while pleading to be protected. He looked up to see the older woman he was supposed to help take down his ally with a vicious kick to the midsection. The last guard, deciding that no woman, no matter how beautiful, was worth his life, stood up and ran out the front door.
Kaliel turned to pursue the fleeing guard, but stopped when he saw that the man had been stopped by a new arrival, a well-dressed man who had his hand on the guard’s chest. The guard was shivering and trembling at the man’s touch. Kaliel grabbed a small table near the door and flung it at the guard’s back. The table crashed into the guard’s skull, and a large splinter drove itself into his shoulder, but the guard remained perfectly still, not reacting to the attack. When the guard did move, it was to collapse backward. The guard looked as though he had aged a century in a few moments, and tendrils of energy drifted from the body into the hand of the well-dressed man.
The man and Kaliel faced each other for a long, silent moment. Then, snarling, the rich man leapt at Kaliel, hands extended. Kaliel spun around, his axe severing the man’s hands before coming around again and slicing him in half at the waist. The odor of rot burst from the corpse, and the body fell apart. Standing in its place was a glaring, hateful ghost, who fixed a stare on Kaliel before vanishing.
Zanka, seeing only that Kaliel was dealing with the fleeing guard, went upstairs to find Ghost. She found him inside the factor’s office, looking up at a large portrait of a noble-looking man that was marked with an engraved plaque; Tunato Kun. Without a word, he pulled on one side of the portrait, which swiveled out on hinges to reveal a barred door.
“There are likely valuables in the desk,” Ghost said to Zanka without turning, tossing an empty satchel onto the polished oak surface. “Letters of credit and the like. Gather up what you find and anything else interesting.” He set to work on the door’s lock as Zanka began opening drawers.
Ayama and Kaliel arrived in the room just as Ghost sprung the lock. They looked up at the portrait, which looked identical to the possessed man they had just slain.
“That could be bad,” Ayama said. She informed Ghost and Zanka of what had transpired outside.
“What kind of a creature was it?” Zanka asked. “A hungry ghost?”
Ayama shook her head. “This spirit had an intellect, and motivations of its own.”
“I don’t think it was a ghost,” Kaliel said, “I believe it was an air elemental, given the way it vanished in the breeze.”
“I think,” Ayama said ,choosing her words carefully, “that we must agree to disagree once again. No elemental I know can possess a body. Regardless, the body has been destroyed, and that was the body of a prominent figure.”
“Then we had best finish what we started,” Ghost said. He looked displeased, but proceeded to pull open the heavy door.
A charnel reek wafted out of the door, which opened to a set of stairs leading down into the basement. Ghost and Zanka could hear a slithering sound from some large creature below.
“Let us see what is down there,” Kaliel said.
“Be careful,” Ayama warned. “I have only eased your pain, your wounds are still present.”
“Then I will go first,” Ghost said. He silently crept down the stairs disappearing in the gloom. A few minutes later, he returned. “There is a large lizard below,” he reported. “It’s the size of a grown man, though quite gaunt. There are also about a dozen corpses down there, all surrounded by circles of salt. The bodies have had narrow strips of flesh removed from them. I believe we can say what happened to the missing servants and the previous burglars.” He looked at Zanka. “The Gentle Art of Persuasion is on the wall on the far side of the room.”
“It sounds like a tomb beast,” Ayama said. “They are popular in Sijan as grave guardians, because they will only consume living flesh, and will not touch carrion. They exude a paralyzing venom from their teeth, and usually feed by carving strips of flesh away with their narrow tongues.”
“Certainly a horrible enough death to create a hungry ghost from those bodies,” Zanka said.
“I think it sounds more like a sand-swimmer,” Kaliel commented, though he said no more about it.**
“I am not sure that we are ready to face this beast,” Ayama said. “Kaliel is wounded, and I am certain his anima was seen from quite a distance away. People could be coming to investigate as we speak.”
“We won’t get another chance at Zanka’s artifact,” Kaliel argued. “If we work together, in a coordinated attack…”
“Seven spirits below!” Ghost swore, throwing up his hands in frustration. He turned and marched down the stairs, his pace quickening even though he was moving just as silently as before. A few steps from the bottom, he made a tremendous leap across the room, sailing over the head of the tomb beast unseen. He flipped in midair as he leapt, so that when he hit the far wall his feet met the stone surface, and he was then able to spring off the wall and return to the stairs the way he came. By the time Kaliel was at the bottom of the stairs, a flame piece drawn and ready, Ghost was on his way back up, the two golden fans in his hands.
“I suggest we seal this room off again,” he said as he emerged from the darkness and handed the fans to Zanka. “We can deal with the tomb beast another day.” He shrugged. “Or, let time deal with it naturally.”
“I will not countenance letting this creature starve to death,” Ayama said. “The beast could be captured and sold to Sijan.”
“Very well,” Ghost answered. “But another day.”
Standing nearby, Kaliel noticed that Zanka was frowning. “What is the matter?”
“These fans,” she said. “They are not the Gentle Art of Persuasion.”
Everyone crowded around to look closer. They immediately saw that the fans were made of actual gold, not orichalcum, and that while quite beautiful, were not sturdy enough to be used as weapons.
“It seems our quest is not yet complete,” sighed Kaliel.
“But we should leave before others come,” Ayama reminded them. “There are no more answers here.”
“At least the night wasn’t a total loss,” Zanka said. She held up an ornately written piece of parchment. “This is an official invitation to Lady Rinalta’s reception tomorrow night for the visiting dignitaries of House Cathak of the Scarlet Empire and the Immaculate Order.” She smiled. “I do not think the factor will be able to attend.”
--------------------------------
* Kaliel, early on and continuing to this day, has an uncanny knack for botching any sort of Intelligence-based check and coming to completely the wrong conclusions. He's not dumb (average Intelligence, really), just unlucky with this particular kind of roll.
** See?
“Besides the main doors,” he said, “there are doors on either side leading to the verandas, a second floor balcony there, and a door on the fourth floor roof to access the cisterns. All are likely to be guarded, though I would guess the roof would be the best choice – I expect the bulk of the guards are on the main floor, and of course there are no windows on the roof from which our activity can be observed.”
“Kaliel and I could provide a distraction and draw their attention,” Zanka suggested.
“Tunato’s guards are likely to be more seasoned than that,” Ghost said.
“And a distraction might draw the wrong sort of attention,” Kaliel added.
“I suggest you two remain outside the grounds, and watch for people coming and going. Tunato may be sending messengers to check on the status of his home, especially with the Gentle Art of Persuasion in his possession. And if something goes wrong, a runner may well be sent to alert the city guards, or Tunato. That runner will need to be intercepted. And should things truly go wrong, then you can cover our escape.”
“We can also enter the home if you call for help,” Kaliel said. “I believe the design of the courtyard will amplify any noise coming from the manor.”
Zanka looked through the gate, frowning. “This appears to be an Earth-aspected manse. Would not such energies serve to deaden any sound?”
“No, I am certain of this,” Kaliel insisted.*
“It seems we disagree,” Ghost said. “Rather than argue the point, let us assume that the most disadvantageous option is the truth; thus, Zanka is correct, and sound will not travel. Our cries for help will not be heard.”
“I note that you continue to say ‘our’,” Ayama noted. “Do you intend for me to accompany you? I should point out that I have no great skill in these matters.”
“Yet you are most capable of the three,” Ghost countered. “Kaliel’s armor precludes all efforts at stealth, and you are more physically capable than Zanka. And you are capable in a fight, should we need to escape. I have more than enough skill in such matters to compensate for your lack of experience.” He smiled wickedly at her. “So, shall we go and clean Tunato’s home?”
“One moment,” Kaliel said. He stepped closer to the gate and surveyed the grounds. “Do you not see it?”
“See what?” Ayama asked.
“There are no animals on the grounds.”
“So Tunato doesn’t use guard dogs,” Ghost said. “That will make this easier.”
“No, not just dogs. There are no birds, no rats, no insects.”
Ghost peered at the grounds. “Interesting. Wait here a moment.” The Night Caste Solar moved away from the house, heading down a nearby alley. He returned a few moments later holding a struggling alley cat. Ghost unceremoniously tossed the cat over the wall into Tunato’s property. The instant it landed, the cat yowled in terror, and ran as fast as it could to a tree near the wall, running across a branch and leaping over the wall. It continued running even as it landed in the street, disappearing into the night.
“So something is terrifying the animals,” Ghost said. “Perhaps a function of the manse’s power. We shall have to see if we feel that same fear.” He wore a smile of satisfaction.
“And you had to torment a cat for that?” Ayama said accusingly.
“The animal was fortunate. I was afraid that it might die horribly on Tunato’s estate, which would have made our approach more troublesome. ”
Without another word, Ghost and Ayama slipped through the gates and onto the grounds. Most of the land surrounding the house was dotted with manicured topiary and decorative trees, save for a clear area about ten feet from the manor itself. The two Solars moved swiftly toward the back of the house, as there were no windows on the main floor there. Ayama marveled at how Ghost seemed to live up to his name, flitting silently from tree to tree. He paused now and then to guide Ayama, showing her the best path to take or pointing out obstructions that might make noise.
Within a few minutes, they stood at the back of the house, looking up toward the roof four floors above.
“I have brought a rope,” Ayama said. “You can lower it when you reach the top.”
“Unnecessary,” Ghost replied. “Climb upon my back.” When she did so, Ghost took the rope and quickly fashioned a harness binding the two of them together. “Now, please control your urges and keep your hands from wandering. I must concentrate.”
Ayama smiled despite herself, for she knew Ghost’s comment was made in pure jest. Though she knew her companion certainly had an appetite for carnal pleasures, that issue had been resolved between them months ago, before they had met Kaliel and Zanka. It had been remarkably simple, she recalled; one night he had suggested they lie together, and she had politely declined, feeling as though he were simply humoring a woman who was old enough to be his mother. He had never brought the subject up with her again.
She was broken out of her reminiscence by the realization that they had just arrived at the roof. Ghost had managed to scale the outer wall free-handed, while carrying her on his back. Though he did not have Kaliel’s massive frame, Ghost was still remarkably athletic. He quickly untied the harness and coiled the rope while looking around. He inspected the cisterns atop the roof, noting that the supply pipes were too small to use for access. He then moved to the door on the roof, and after listening briefly, opened it.
The fourth floor was mostly used for storage, holding those household items required when the factor was lodging several guests. From the look of the rooms, they had not been disturbed for many months. Ghost and Ayama swiftly moved to the stairs, but were surprised when they encountered a pair of guards coming up the stairs. Neither group had heard the other approaching, and so there was a brief moment of uncertain silence. But both guards were looking at Ayama; Ghost remained unseen, as he had used Essence to mask his presence.
A pair of amber-colored boomerangs flying from out of nowhere soon established his presence. Each guard was struck, but much of the force was absorbed by the chain shirt they wore. They almost immediately dropped into martial arts stances, and one attempted to sweep Ayama’s legs while the other flung a needle at Ghost. Ayama immediately reacted, hooking a nearby pedestal with her leg and hurling it at her attacker to disrupt his attack, and then leapt over the pedestal as it flew, looking to push the guard down the stairs. But the guard kicked the flying pedestal into the air back at Ayama, spoiling her attack much as she had done for his. As she squared off against him again, Ayama realized that the guards were fighting with a style normally only taught to Terrestrial exalts; she had seen her old mentor, V’neef Odaask, practicing this style.
“Your master was impressive,” she commented. “You require more practice.”
Meanwhile Ghost, who had dodged the needle thrown at him, had leapt atop the banister and slid down, moving to cut off the guards’ retreat by getting behind them. His boomerangs flashed out again, but this time each guard was ready and avoided the razor sharp edges. Ghost realized that these guards would not be as easily dispatched as he’d believed.
The two guards switched opponents, and one threw another needle at Ghost while the other moved to grab on to Ayama. In the flickering lantern light, it was difficult for Ghost to tell which hand held the needle, only catching the glimmer in midair as if flew toward him. Ghost grabbed a nearby urn and swept it around in front of him, hoping to deflect it, but it flew past and lodged in his chest. Ghost put his hand up and withdrew the needle, which was coated in some dark substance. Ghost looked at the guard, and waggled his finger in disapproval; the needle had failed to penetrate the starmetal shirt he wore under his clothes. Ghost’s boomerang again flashed by the second guard, missing him by a wide margin. The guard smirked, and began to close on the man below him, until he heard a snap. Looking up, he saw that the returning boomerang had severed the wire holding up one of the massive portraits on the wall, which crashed down upon the hapless guard, knocking him unconscious.
A few feet away, Ayama and the guard flew at each other. The guard came in high trying to tackle the Solar, but she grabbed him in midair and slammed him into the stairs. Realizing that he could not handle these intruders, the guard shouted for help, and then started bolting down the stairs, barely evading Ayama’s grasp. Ghost tried to toss the poisoned needle at him, but it only grazed his neck without penetrating.
“Come on,” Ghost said, beckoning Ayama down the stairs. “The other guards will be here soon.”
“Wait.” Ayama looked back at the unconscious guard under the portrait. She turned back to Ghost. “How fast can you undress a man?” she asked.
۞
“What are you doing?” Zanka asked.
“Giving them the opportunity to settle this amiably,” he said. “But it appears they will not accept my offer.”
Kaliel hefted his axe and brought it down into the heavy oak doors, slicing through the bar on the other side. He then planted a heavy boot into the two-inch thick door, sending it flying into kindling. The two guards who had clustered around the door were peppered with shards of wood. Kaliel rushed in amidst the confusion and laid into the guards with righteous fury. His axe came down between the two guards, cleanly missing both, but when they both looked down at the massive blade, he came up again, twisting it so the flat of the blade would catch them both and knock them out. However, they managed to twist away in the nick of time; a few strands of hair floated into the air as their beards were shaved down to the skin.
The guards rushed in, trying to subdue the massive armored figure in the doorway. One grabbed onto him, and was shrugged aside, while another flung one of his poisoned needles at Kaliel. The needle just managed to strike the Solar in the neck, and he felt the toxin in his blood, burning as it traversed his body. Gritting his teeth, Kaliel braced himself as an onslaught of fists and feet assailed him. He noted that his opponents were striking with far more force and skill that mere mortals, and for the first time he grew concerned.
Two floors above, Ayama and Ghost had heard the tremendous crash downstairs, and could hear that most of the guards had gone to deal with the disturbance. Some, at least, were continuing up the stairs to investigate the first cry of alarm. The two Solars stood in an unused sitting room; Ghost was dressed in the guard’s uniform, and had Ayama in a subduing grip. The real guard, still quite unconscious, had been rolled up in a carpet and shoved underneath a couch in the room.
“Bring your left arm up more,” Ayama coached Ghost. “They must think I am completely helpless.”
They saw the flash of a lantern in the hallway outside. “In here!” Ghost shouted. “I have one of them!”
The door burst open, and a guard looked at the two in the dark room. Ayama struggled a bit, as though she were trying unsuccessfully to escape the grip of the guard who had captured her. Ayama cried out, and very convincing tears rolled down her cheeks.
The guard in the door peered through the darkness at them, then straightened. “Subdue her and roll her in a rug until we can deal with her,” he growled at Ghost. “There’s trouble downstairs.” With that, the guard turned and ran down the stairs.
“Well,” Ghost said, releasing Ayama. “That was easy enough.”
“Perhaps we should go and help our companions,” Ayama said.
“No.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“I came here to rob this house,” Ghost said. “I will be the first to steal successfully from Factor Tunato. I must complete the mission. You go and help them, and I will come when I am finished, if Kaliel has not slain them all by then.”
Of course, he could not know that this task was proving far more challenging for the Auric Lion than he had thought. He had managed to push his way into the house, but was still being battered. The guards were somewhat startled when a slender, pale woman suddenly somersaulted between the intruder’s legs, lashing out with a fist at the closest guard. He managed to avoid the quick strike, and then grabbed Zanka around the midsection, pulling her up off her feet as she screamed and struggled to get loose.
With Zanka now in danger, Kaliel no longer felt the need for self-restraint. His aura began to glow with a golden light as he allowed the flows of Essence to guide his blade, effortlessly knocking aside two of the other guards blows and then following with a devastating upward slice, lifting the guard off the ground and slamming him to the floor. Scrambling to his feet, the bleeding guard ran away from the battle and fled up the stairs.
The guard ran to the second floor, and saw one of his compatriots in the hallway. “What is it?” the man asked, grabbing the wounded guard by the shoulders.
“The intruders! They are Anathema!” the guard shrieked.
The other guard smiled. “I know.”
It was then that the wounded guard noticed the poisoned needle that had been stuck in his neck.
One floor below, Zanka struggled in the other guard’s grip. And then, as three more rushed in, she seemed to relax. “Please, help me!” she pleaded with the new arrivals, tears streaming down her face. Their minds clouded by Zanka’s holy power, they responded by flinging poisoned darts at their companion. As the toxin took effect, the guard’s eyes began to unfocus, and his grip on Zanka loosened. The three guards followed this by a series of well-aimed kicks, which sent their ally to the floor in a heap. Zanka, keeping up appearances, also collapsed.
Kaliel tried to build upon Zanka’s ruse. “Tie him up! I saw him grab this woman in the street!” But despite the fact that the authority of the Chosen of the Unconquered Sun is absolute, the guards ignored Kaliel’s commands. Instead, they turned upon the man with the bright aura of the Anathema. “Stay behind us,” one of the guards growled at Zanka. “We shall protect you from this Anathema.”
Already sorely wounded, Kaliel grimaced at the thought of facing three fresh guards alone. But then he saw Ayama come down the stairs and run up to him, placing her hand upon his chest as she rushed up. Soothing power flowed into the Dawn’s body, easing the pain of his wounds. Ayama then jumped up and planted her feet into Kaliel’s chest, springboarding off his massive frame to leap over the heads of the guards. Refreshed, Kaliel hefted his weapon, then charged the closest guard, while one of the other guards tried to sweep out Ayama’s legs but missed. The third guard picked up the apparently unconscious Zanka. “I’ll get her out of here!” he shouted to his companions.
The guard facing Kaliel leapt into the air to deliver a kick to the head, but before he could reach the massive Northerner, Kaliel slapped the incoming leg aside, and then used the opening created to cleave into the man’s groin. The guard twisted just enough to avoid being bisected, but landed with a heavy thud, and quickly scrambled toward the rear door, bleeding from a gash in his inner thigh. But his escape was cut off when Ayama quickly ran up the stairs a few steps and then swung around on the railing, kicking the guard in the head and propelling him back toward Kaliel. Desperate, the wounded guard used a maneuver that sent the armored warrior to the ground.
Zanka heard the crash as Kaliel fell. “Please,” she said in feigned weakness to the guard carrying her away, “help my friend, the woman on the stairs.” The guard immediately stopped and set Zanka down. “Wait here,” he commanded, and ran back to the battle. The guard ran in just in time to see Kaliel rise and lay his opponent low by tearing off a section of the banister and crushing his skull. The guard who had been carrying Zanka started to rush in, but was dragged to the ground when the woman he had ‘rescued’ grabbed onto his neck, pulling him down while pleading to be protected. He looked up to see the older woman he was supposed to help take down his ally with a vicious kick to the midsection. The last guard, deciding that no woman, no matter how beautiful, was worth his life, stood up and ran out the front door.
Kaliel turned to pursue the fleeing guard, but stopped when he saw that the man had been stopped by a new arrival, a well-dressed man who had his hand on the guard’s chest. The guard was shivering and trembling at the man’s touch. Kaliel grabbed a small table near the door and flung it at the guard’s back. The table crashed into the guard’s skull, and a large splinter drove itself into his shoulder, but the guard remained perfectly still, not reacting to the attack. When the guard did move, it was to collapse backward. The guard looked as though he had aged a century in a few moments, and tendrils of energy drifted from the body into the hand of the well-dressed man.
The man and Kaliel faced each other for a long, silent moment. Then, snarling, the rich man leapt at Kaliel, hands extended. Kaliel spun around, his axe severing the man’s hands before coming around again and slicing him in half at the waist. The odor of rot burst from the corpse, and the body fell apart. Standing in its place was a glaring, hateful ghost, who fixed a stare on Kaliel before vanishing.
Zanka, seeing only that Kaliel was dealing with the fleeing guard, went upstairs to find Ghost. She found him inside the factor’s office, looking up at a large portrait of a noble-looking man that was marked with an engraved plaque; Tunato Kun. Without a word, he pulled on one side of the portrait, which swiveled out on hinges to reveal a barred door.
“There are likely valuables in the desk,” Ghost said to Zanka without turning, tossing an empty satchel onto the polished oak surface. “Letters of credit and the like. Gather up what you find and anything else interesting.” He set to work on the door’s lock as Zanka began opening drawers.
Ayama and Kaliel arrived in the room just as Ghost sprung the lock. They looked up at the portrait, which looked identical to the possessed man they had just slain.
“That could be bad,” Ayama said. She informed Ghost and Zanka of what had transpired outside.
“What kind of a creature was it?” Zanka asked. “A hungry ghost?”
Ayama shook her head. “This spirit had an intellect, and motivations of its own.”
“I don’t think it was a ghost,” Kaliel said, “I believe it was an air elemental, given the way it vanished in the breeze.”
“I think,” Ayama said ,choosing her words carefully, “that we must agree to disagree once again. No elemental I know can possess a body. Regardless, the body has been destroyed, and that was the body of a prominent figure.”
“Then we had best finish what we started,” Ghost said. He looked displeased, but proceeded to pull open the heavy door.
A charnel reek wafted out of the door, which opened to a set of stairs leading down into the basement. Ghost and Zanka could hear a slithering sound from some large creature below.
“Let us see what is down there,” Kaliel said.
“Be careful,” Ayama warned. “I have only eased your pain, your wounds are still present.”
“Then I will go first,” Ghost said. He silently crept down the stairs disappearing in the gloom. A few minutes later, he returned. “There is a large lizard below,” he reported. “It’s the size of a grown man, though quite gaunt. There are also about a dozen corpses down there, all surrounded by circles of salt. The bodies have had narrow strips of flesh removed from them. I believe we can say what happened to the missing servants and the previous burglars.” He looked at Zanka. “The Gentle Art of Persuasion is on the wall on the far side of the room.”
“It sounds like a tomb beast,” Ayama said. “They are popular in Sijan as grave guardians, because they will only consume living flesh, and will not touch carrion. They exude a paralyzing venom from their teeth, and usually feed by carving strips of flesh away with their narrow tongues.”
“Certainly a horrible enough death to create a hungry ghost from those bodies,” Zanka said.
“I think it sounds more like a sand-swimmer,” Kaliel commented, though he said no more about it.**
“I am not sure that we are ready to face this beast,” Ayama said. “Kaliel is wounded, and I am certain his anima was seen from quite a distance away. People could be coming to investigate as we speak.”
“We won’t get another chance at Zanka’s artifact,” Kaliel argued. “If we work together, in a coordinated attack…”
“Seven spirits below!” Ghost swore, throwing up his hands in frustration. He turned and marched down the stairs, his pace quickening even though he was moving just as silently as before. A few steps from the bottom, he made a tremendous leap across the room, sailing over the head of the tomb beast unseen. He flipped in midair as he leapt, so that when he hit the far wall his feet met the stone surface, and he was then able to spring off the wall and return to the stairs the way he came. By the time Kaliel was at the bottom of the stairs, a flame piece drawn and ready, Ghost was on his way back up, the two golden fans in his hands.
“I suggest we seal this room off again,” he said as he emerged from the darkness and handed the fans to Zanka. “We can deal with the tomb beast another day.” He shrugged. “Or, let time deal with it naturally.”
“I will not countenance letting this creature starve to death,” Ayama said. “The beast could be captured and sold to Sijan.”
“Very well,” Ghost answered. “But another day.”
Standing nearby, Kaliel noticed that Zanka was frowning. “What is the matter?”
“These fans,” she said. “They are not the Gentle Art of Persuasion.”
Everyone crowded around to look closer. They immediately saw that the fans were made of actual gold, not orichalcum, and that while quite beautiful, were not sturdy enough to be used as weapons.
“It seems our quest is not yet complete,” sighed Kaliel.
“But we should leave before others come,” Ayama reminded them. “There are no more answers here.”
“At least the night wasn’t a total loss,” Zanka said. She held up an ornately written piece of parchment. “This is an official invitation to Lady Rinalta’s reception tomorrow night for the visiting dignitaries of House Cathak of the Scarlet Empire and the Immaculate Order.” She smiled. “I do not think the factor will be able to attend.”
--------------------------------
* Kaliel, early on and continuing to this day, has an uncanny knack for botching any sort of Intelligence-based check and coming to completely the wrong conclusions. He's not dumb (average Intelligence, really), just unlucky with this particular kind of roll.
** See?
Delemental
First Post
The Immaculate Reception
Day broke over the city of Lynnisbrook, though only Zanka and Ayama were awake to witness the dawn. Kaliel was still resting, recuperating from his wounds, and Ghost was still asleep after a later night than the rest. They had returned to their inn from Tunato’s manor just past midnight, but Ghost had gone off after that to meet his underworld contact to deliver the promised goods from the factor’s home. He also mentioned going to find a brothel.
“I need something to take my mind off how sloppy that was,” Ghost had said, looking displeased.
“We could not have known that the artifact was not in his home,” Kaliel argued.
“That is not the problem,” Ghost sighed. “The entire job was brutish and lacked finesse. It was like trying to pick a man’s pocket using a warstrider.”
Furrows appeared on Kaliel’s brow. “I thought that you were in danger, and came to your aid.”
Ghost waved his hand in the air dismissively. “You misunderstand, my friend. I do not fault your decision, or your actions. I fault my own. It should not have been necessary for you to rescue me.”
The Nightbringer had, in fact, questioned whether he should take credit for the job at all; though he desired to build his reputation on the way to becoming Creation’s greatest thief, the butchery they’d had to commit was not the reputation he’d hoped for.
Zanka, however, had put his mind at ease. When Tunato’s death was discovered – which they reasoned would not be known immediately, since the factor had been somewhat reclusive – Zanka said would begin spreading the rumor that the infamous thief Resplendent Ghost of Midnight had robbed the factor’s manor, but in the process discovered a horrible truth; that the factor was possessed by a malignant spirit. The infamous thief had recruited help to go in and eradicate the taint of evil, but Tunato Kun had been slain in the process. The story was simple – as it was mostly true – and disconnected Ghost’s burglary from the violence done. The evidence in the basement would be more than enough to incriminate Tunato, and any who might have witnessed Kaliel’s anima igniting would attribute the strange lights to ghosts rather than Anathema. Still, Ghost had not seemed particularly pleased when he left one of his tokens atop Tunato’s desk to mark the crime as his own.
The night had passed, and in the morning there was no news about Tunato, and so the four Solars set about the task of preparing for the reception at Lady Rinalta’s manor. Ghost sat at a table, carefully altering their stolen invitation to take Tunato’s name off, and replace it with Zanka’s.
“There is a tailor’s shop, not far from Tunato’s manor,” Zanka was saying to Kaliel and Ayama. “The two of you should go there this morning and get suitable clothing.”
“I have my uniform that I wear when negotiating mercenary contracts,” Kaliel said.
“I doubt that will be sufficient,” Zanka said. “That uniform is suitable for a military person meeting other military persons to negotiate military arrangements. It will not be suitable for a formal diplomatic reception. You and I will already stand out to some degree because we are Northerners – being improperly dressed will only draw more unwanted attention.”
“What can we expect at this reception?” Ayama asked. “Do we know what the agenda of the Realm agents is?”
“We do not.” Zanka admitted. “That is why Ghost and I will spend the morning gathering just this kind of information.”
After going to the tailor and leaving him with specific instructions, as well as a good portion of Kaliel’s silver, Zanka and Ghost went on a tour of the upper-class salons and teahouses, learning all they could about the reception and the guests of honor. Within minutes, the mundane details were known – there were about a hundred guests expected, comprised of the wealthiest residents of Lynnisbrook, and there would be a dramatic reading of a scene from a old play about one of the Elemental Dragons and the mortal man she loved. They also heard several rumors about some of the alliances, dealings, and trysts that were expected to occur during the reception. Unfortunately, they quickly found that the populace knew few of the details of the reasons for the Realm’s visit. They did learn that the Immaculate representative had not yet arrived in Lynnisbrook, and it was feared that the reception might need to be postponed.
“Who else can we talk to?” Zanka asked. “Someone in this city must know more about why the Realm is here.”
“There is one person we can see,” Ghost said. “Come with me.”
They walked up to the gates surrounding Lady Rinalta’s manor, and Ghost approached the guards stationed there. “Please inform Lady Rinalta that Chuzei Tendo would like a few moments of her time.”
“Right away, sir,” the guard said. A page was summoned, and the message was sent inside. While they waited, Zanka flashed an inquiring look at Ghost.
“If Resplendent Ghost of Midnight is to become Creation’s greatest thief,” he explained quietly, “then there are times when it is inconvenient to use that name. For more public occasions, I am Chuzei Tendo, a traveling nobleman’s son from Greyfalls. It was Tendo who located the fabled Divine Gift to End Suffering and saved Lady Rinalta – thus I have some small amount of recognition here which I can leverage.”
Indeed, within a few moments Ghost and Zanka were being led through the halls of the manor. They saw preparations going on all around them for the evening reception as they made their way up to Lady Rinalta’s chambers. They were given a private audience with the lady, with only a few guards present.
“Thank you for agreeing to see me,” Ghost said. “I know you have much to do, and will not take up your time.”
Lady Rinalta, though still somewhat frail from having endured years of illness, was looking much stronger and healthier. “It is good to see you here under fully lit circumstances, Chuzei Tendo,” Lady Rinalta said.
Ghost smiled. “Lady, may I introduce you to my friend Zanka Odokari, who hails from the North.”
“And a lovely young woman she is,” Rinalta said, extending her hand. Zanka curtsied, and took the hand that was offered, clasping it briefly before sitting on a nearby divan. Rinalta looked at Ghost again. “But I don’t think that this is the only reason you have come to see me.”
“It pleases me that your mind is as sharp as ever, and that soon your body will be just as hale.” Ghost leaned forward. “I am aware that there is a reception being held here tonight for two visitors from the Scarlet Empire. I would very much like to attend - it is not often that one is able to meet citizens of the Blessed Isle.”
“I see no reason why not,” Lady Rinalta replied. She walked to a desk and pulled out an invitation, which she quickly filled out. “You are an honored guest of this nation, after all.”
“I am curious,” Zanka asked as Lady Rinalta handed the invitation to Ghost. “What has brought the Realm here? From what my friend Tendo has told me of you, you are a firm supporter of the Confederation.” She smiled politely. “Of course, I know that as the ruler of a nation, you must often have to make decisions that conflict with your personal opinions.”
“This is true,” Rinalta sighed. “It is no great secret that our own military is not large, and our treasuries are not vast enough to afford mercenaries. Despite the amount of silver that we produce, most of the wealth gets sent south by the Guild. There have been signs that there will soon be an escalation in the conflict between the Linowan Nation and Halta, and that the Bull of the North may be preparing another offensive against the Linowan.”
“Which will put pressure on the Linowan to acquire resources,” Zanka concluded. “And your own kingdom lies close enough to their borders to be a target of raids.”
“I have had an unspoken agreement with the Linowan since I came to power,” Lady Rinalta said. “Perhaps the only thing I can truly say I have provided to my people. That agreement that came close to being broken when I was afflicted with that terrible disease. I fear that another push from the Bull may be enough to end that accord. Lookshy is too far away to aid us, and their eyes are fixed upon the problems in Thorns.”
“And this is when the Empire came to you,” Ghost said.
“Indeed. House Cathak has offered to station a full dragon of their House legions here in Lagan, and the Immaculate Order has proposed using Lynnisbrook as a staging area for a permanent Wyld Hunt. Neither would be enough to prevent a full invasion, but it would be a deterrent.”
Ghost and Zanka exchanged a brief glance. A Wyld Hunt here would make life very uncomfortable for them.
“Would I be correct in assuming that you would be willing to entertain a viable alternative?” Ghost asked.
“Definitely. Do you happen to know of one?”
Ghost smiled. “Well, I did find the Divine Gift to End Suffering. Perhaps I can find a spare army laying about somewhere.”
“Will you have something ready by tonight?”
“I will do my best. After all, I would hate to see such a fine, beautiful young ruler such as yourself pressed under the thumb of the Empire. If you are going to be pressed under anyone, I would prefer it was me.”
Zanka raised her fan to hide the smile on her lips as one of the guards chuckled a little. Lady Rinalta fixed that guard with a stare.
“Report to the Master of Drills,” she told him. “Tell him you are to work upon the basics of discipline.”
As a much more subdued guard departed, Lady Rinalta returned her gaze to Ghost. “I look forward to seeing you this evening, Chuzei Tendo. I am sure you will enjoy the dramatic presentation.”
“I am looking forward to it.”
۞
The companions met at mid-day at their inn, to report on what they had learned. Ghost and Zanka relayed their experiences to Kaliel and Ayama, in particular the details of the Empire’s offer to Lagan.
“After our measurements were taken this morning,” Kaliel said, “Ayama and I went our separate ways. I went down to the docks to speak with the crew of the Cathak’s ship. Though I had hoped to learn some details about how a First Age vessel such as that one operates, the crew appear to be fairly ignorant of how it works. However, I was there when the Immaculate representative arrived.”
“Ah good,” Zanka said, “then there will be a party tonight.”
“He is an Earth Aspected Terrestrial,” Kaliel explained. “Of a size that rivals my own. He was heavily armored and bore a large tetsubo, both of white jade.”
“I thought that Immaculates did not use armor,” Ghost said.
“The Earth Dragon Style can be practiced while wearing armor, unlike most other forms of unarmed combat,” Kaliel said. “I could not catch his full name – something with ‘Ground’ in it.”
“He is known as Ground Ripple,” Zanka said, “and his companion who arrived yesterday is Cathak Ejon.”
Kaliel nodded in acceptance of the new information. “He arrived in a very small craft, with an escort of five other Immaculates. Two of them accompanied Ground Ripple to the manor, and the other three went off into the city.”
“I saw those other three,” Ayama said. “I went into the poor sections of the city, near the river, where I was teaching the people about cleanliness and doing some healing. The monks came and were doing much the same as I was – they were espousing the tenets of their faith as well, of course, but mostly seemed interested in aiding the less fortunate.”
“The important thing to consider is that the Immaculates are here, and are prepared to make Lady Rinalta an offer,” Zanka said. “How shall we respond?”
“What is the status of your forces in Chrysanthemum?” Ghost asked.
“My company consists of about a hundred troops,” Kaliel replied. “I could spare no more than seventy.”
“That is less than five hundred,” Ghost said. “Hardly a tempting offer to counter House Cathak.”
“I am more concerned about this Wyld Hunt the Immaculate is offering,” Kaliel said. “They would be within striking distance of my own city from here, and there are enough rumors that Chrysanthemum is ruled by an Anathema that it would become a target.”
“Perhaps if a portion of your soldiers could come here,” Ayama said, “and help to train the local populace as a militia. We could also attempt to negotiate with the Linowan, or even the Haltans if that is necessary. And then Lady Rinalta would be able to address the Realm’s offer from a stronger position.”
“We have much to discuss,” Zanka said, “and only a few hours remain before the reception. We will only have one chance to keep the Empire out of Lagan. Let us see what kind of offer we can make.”
Day broke over the city of Lynnisbrook, though only Zanka and Ayama were awake to witness the dawn. Kaliel was still resting, recuperating from his wounds, and Ghost was still asleep after a later night than the rest. They had returned to their inn from Tunato’s manor just past midnight, but Ghost had gone off after that to meet his underworld contact to deliver the promised goods from the factor’s home. He also mentioned going to find a brothel.
“I need something to take my mind off how sloppy that was,” Ghost had said, looking displeased.
“We could not have known that the artifact was not in his home,” Kaliel argued.
“That is not the problem,” Ghost sighed. “The entire job was brutish and lacked finesse. It was like trying to pick a man’s pocket using a warstrider.”
Furrows appeared on Kaliel’s brow. “I thought that you were in danger, and came to your aid.”
Ghost waved his hand in the air dismissively. “You misunderstand, my friend. I do not fault your decision, or your actions. I fault my own. It should not have been necessary for you to rescue me.”
The Nightbringer had, in fact, questioned whether he should take credit for the job at all; though he desired to build his reputation on the way to becoming Creation’s greatest thief, the butchery they’d had to commit was not the reputation he’d hoped for.
Zanka, however, had put his mind at ease. When Tunato’s death was discovered – which they reasoned would not be known immediately, since the factor had been somewhat reclusive – Zanka said would begin spreading the rumor that the infamous thief Resplendent Ghost of Midnight had robbed the factor’s manor, but in the process discovered a horrible truth; that the factor was possessed by a malignant spirit. The infamous thief had recruited help to go in and eradicate the taint of evil, but Tunato Kun had been slain in the process. The story was simple – as it was mostly true – and disconnected Ghost’s burglary from the violence done. The evidence in the basement would be more than enough to incriminate Tunato, and any who might have witnessed Kaliel’s anima igniting would attribute the strange lights to ghosts rather than Anathema. Still, Ghost had not seemed particularly pleased when he left one of his tokens atop Tunato’s desk to mark the crime as his own.
The night had passed, and in the morning there was no news about Tunato, and so the four Solars set about the task of preparing for the reception at Lady Rinalta’s manor. Ghost sat at a table, carefully altering their stolen invitation to take Tunato’s name off, and replace it with Zanka’s.
“There is a tailor’s shop, not far from Tunato’s manor,” Zanka was saying to Kaliel and Ayama. “The two of you should go there this morning and get suitable clothing.”
“I have my uniform that I wear when negotiating mercenary contracts,” Kaliel said.
“I doubt that will be sufficient,” Zanka said. “That uniform is suitable for a military person meeting other military persons to negotiate military arrangements. It will not be suitable for a formal diplomatic reception. You and I will already stand out to some degree because we are Northerners – being improperly dressed will only draw more unwanted attention.”
“What can we expect at this reception?” Ayama asked. “Do we know what the agenda of the Realm agents is?”
“We do not.” Zanka admitted. “That is why Ghost and I will spend the morning gathering just this kind of information.”
After going to the tailor and leaving him with specific instructions, as well as a good portion of Kaliel’s silver, Zanka and Ghost went on a tour of the upper-class salons and teahouses, learning all they could about the reception and the guests of honor. Within minutes, the mundane details were known – there were about a hundred guests expected, comprised of the wealthiest residents of Lynnisbrook, and there would be a dramatic reading of a scene from a old play about one of the Elemental Dragons and the mortal man she loved. They also heard several rumors about some of the alliances, dealings, and trysts that were expected to occur during the reception. Unfortunately, they quickly found that the populace knew few of the details of the reasons for the Realm’s visit. They did learn that the Immaculate representative had not yet arrived in Lynnisbrook, and it was feared that the reception might need to be postponed.
“Who else can we talk to?” Zanka asked. “Someone in this city must know more about why the Realm is here.”
“There is one person we can see,” Ghost said. “Come with me.”
They walked up to the gates surrounding Lady Rinalta’s manor, and Ghost approached the guards stationed there. “Please inform Lady Rinalta that Chuzei Tendo would like a few moments of her time.”
“Right away, sir,” the guard said. A page was summoned, and the message was sent inside. While they waited, Zanka flashed an inquiring look at Ghost.
“If Resplendent Ghost of Midnight is to become Creation’s greatest thief,” he explained quietly, “then there are times when it is inconvenient to use that name. For more public occasions, I am Chuzei Tendo, a traveling nobleman’s son from Greyfalls. It was Tendo who located the fabled Divine Gift to End Suffering and saved Lady Rinalta – thus I have some small amount of recognition here which I can leverage.”
Indeed, within a few moments Ghost and Zanka were being led through the halls of the manor. They saw preparations going on all around them for the evening reception as they made their way up to Lady Rinalta’s chambers. They were given a private audience with the lady, with only a few guards present.
“Thank you for agreeing to see me,” Ghost said. “I know you have much to do, and will not take up your time.”
Lady Rinalta, though still somewhat frail from having endured years of illness, was looking much stronger and healthier. “It is good to see you here under fully lit circumstances, Chuzei Tendo,” Lady Rinalta said.
Ghost smiled. “Lady, may I introduce you to my friend Zanka Odokari, who hails from the North.”
“And a lovely young woman she is,” Rinalta said, extending her hand. Zanka curtsied, and took the hand that was offered, clasping it briefly before sitting on a nearby divan. Rinalta looked at Ghost again. “But I don’t think that this is the only reason you have come to see me.”
“It pleases me that your mind is as sharp as ever, and that soon your body will be just as hale.” Ghost leaned forward. “I am aware that there is a reception being held here tonight for two visitors from the Scarlet Empire. I would very much like to attend - it is not often that one is able to meet citizens of the Blessed Isle.”
“I see no reason why not,” Lady Rinalta replied. She walked to a desk and pulled out an invitation, which she quickly filled out. “You are an honored guest of this nation, after all.”
“I am curious,” Zanka asked as Lady Rinalta handed the invitation to Ghost. “What has brought the Realm here? From what my friend Tendo has told me of you, you are a firm supporter of the Confederation.” She smiled politely. “Of course, I know that as the ruler of a nation, you must often have to make decisions that conflict with your personal opinions.”
“This is true,” Rinalta sighed. “It is no great secret that our own military is not large, and our treasuries are not vast enough to afford mercenaries. Despite the amount of silver that we produce, most of the wealth gets sent south by the Guild. There have been signs that there will soon be an escalation in the conflict between the Linowan Nation and Halta, and that the Bull of the North may be preparing another offensive against the Linowan.”
“Which will put pressure on the Linowan to acquire resources,” Zanka concluded. “And your own kingdom lies close enough to their borders to be a target of raids.”
“I have had an unspoken agreement with the Linowan since I came to power,” Lady Rinalta said. “Perhaps the only thing I can truly say I have provided to my people. That agreement that came close to being broken when I was afflicted with that terrible disease. I fear that another push from the Bull may be enough to end that accord. Lookshy is too far away to aid us, and their eyes are fixed upon the problems in Thorns.”
“And this is when the Empire came to you,” Ghost said.
“Indeed. House Cathak has offered to station a full dragon of their House legions here in Lagan, and the Immaculate Order has proposed using Lynnisbrook as a staging area for a permanent Wyld Hunt. Neither would be enough to prevent a full invasion, but it would be a deterrent.”
Ghost and Zanka exchanged a brief glance. A Wyld Hunt here would make life very uncomfortable for them.
“Would I be correct in assuming that you would be willing to entertain a viable alternative?” Ghost asked.
“Definitely. Do you happen to know of one?”
Ghost smiled. “Well, I did find the Divine Gift to End Suffering. Perhaps I can find a spare army laying about somewhere.”
“Will you have something ready by tonight?”
“I will do my best. After all, I would hate to see such a fine, beautiful young ruler such as yourself pressed under the thumb of the Empire. If you are going to be pressed under anyone, I would prefer it was me.”
Zanka raised her fan to hide the smile on her lips as one of the guards chuckled a little. Lady Rinalta fixed that guard with a stare.
“Report to the Master of Drills,” she told him. “Tell him you are to work upon the basics of discipline.”
As a much more subdued guard departed, Lady Rinalta returned her gaze to Ghost. “I look forward to seeing you this evening, Chuzei Tendo. I am sure you will enjoy the dramatic presentation.”
“I am looking forward to it.”
۞
“After our measurements were taken this morning,” Kaliel said, “Ayama and I went our separate ways. I went down to the docks to speak with the crew of the Cathak’s ship. Though I had hoped to learn some details about how a First Age vessel such as that one operates, the crew appear to be fairly ignorant of how it works. However, I was there when the Immaculate representative arrived.”
“Ah good,” Zanka said, “then there will be a party tonight.”
“He is an Earth Aspected Terrestrial,” Kaliel explained. “Of a size that rivals my own. He was heavily armored and bore a large tetsubo, both of white jade.”
“I thought that Immaculates did not use armor,” Ghost said.
“The Earth Dragon Style can be practiced while wearing armor, unlike most other forms of unarmed combat,” Kaliel said. “I could not catch his full name – something with ‘Ground’ in it.”
“He is known as Ground Ripple,” Zanka said, “and his companion who arrived yesterday is Cathak Ejon.”
Kaliel nodded in acceptance of the new information. “He arrived in a very small craft, with an escort of five other Immaculates. Two of them accompanied Ground Ripple to the manor, and the other three went off into the city.”
“I saw those other three,” Ayama said. “I went into the poor sections of the city, near the river, where I was teaching the people about cleanliness and doing some healing. The monks came and were doing much the same as I was – they were espousing the tenets of their faith as well, of course, but mostly seemed interested in aiding the less fortunate.”
“The important thing to consider is that the Immaculates are here, and are prepared to make Lady Rinalta an offer,” Zanka said. “How shall we respond?”
“What is the status of your forces in Chrysanthemum?” Ghost asked.
“My company consists of about a hundred troops,” Kaliel replied. “I could spare no more than seventy.”
“That is less than five hundred,” Ghost said. “Hardly a tempting offer to counter House Cathak.”
“I am more concerned about this Wyld Hunt the Immaculate is offering,” Kaliel said. “They would be within striking distance of my own city from here, and there are enough rumors that Chrysanthemum is ruled by an Anathema that it would become a target.”
“Perhaps if a portion of your soldiers could come here,” Ayama said, “and help to train the local populace as a militia. We could also attempt to negotiate with the Linowan, or even the Haltans if that is necessary. And then Lady Rinalta would be able to address the Realm’s offer from a stronger position.”
“We have much to discuss,” Zanka said, “and only a few hours remain before the reception. We will only have one chance to keep the Empire out of Lagan. Let us see what kind of offer we can make.”
Delemental
First Post
Nobles dressed in their finest moved about the many rooms of Lady Rinalta’s manor, socializing and conducting all manner of clandestine business, as was the norm for events such as these. Lady Silver had rarely entertained during her long illness, and so care had been taken to invite as many of Lagan’s important personages as was feasible. Thus the arrival of four more guests, whose names were relatively unknown, was hardly remarked upon.
The four Chosen split up and spent a few minutes socializing and getting a feel for the room before moving to find their targets. Ayama found the Immaculate monk Ground Ripple conversing with a local merchant, while Kaliel spotted Cathak Ejon trying to disengage herself from a local baron who was obviously quite enamored of either House Cathak or of Ejon herself. He quickly assessed Ejon’s entourage, and saw that they were nothing more than Realm soldiers that had been pressed into an appearance at a social function. Their discomfort was almost palpable.
“Make note of Ejon’s people,” Kaliel muttered to Ghost, as he and Zanka were passing by on their way to find the queen. “A lapse in discipline could prove damaging to their cause.”
Ghost nodded, and then caught up to Zanka as she entered the main hall. Lady Rinalta was near the center of the room, surrounded by courtiers and attendants. Ghost made the first move, attempting to make his way toward the queen. But unlike earlier, when he was able to use his name to get a private audience, here he was in the public eye, and under the scrutiny of those tasked to attend to Lady Rinalta, and so his efforts came to naught.
“I thought you said you were skilled at such matters,” Zanka said as Ghost circled back around.
“I am,” he said, “if it involves convincing someone to leave the party for more personal diversions. Trying to influence political policy is a less familiar role for me.”
Zanka sighed. “Allow me, then.” She began to move toward Lady Rinalta, drawing the gaze of several as she moved. She had chosen her wardrobe to impart the maximum visual impact, festooned in white and gold with tangerine and scarlet accents, which contrasted with the local style of silver and darker colors. Combined with her natural radiant visage, she came close to upstaging the queen herself – but not quite; Zanka had been careful about that.
As the Eclipse began to make her way through Lady Rinalta’s courtiers, Cathak Ejon finally made her way into the main hall, accompanied by her entourage and Kaliel, who had been silently observing the Terrestrial envoy. He had already gathered from her long conversation with the sycophant in the other room that Ejon was here to represent her own House, not the Empire, but that she was confident and secure in her success and her ability to follow through on her offer. Rather than intervene directly with the Cathak, who was now making her own foray into Lady Rinalta’s entourage, Kaliel decided he would work on the soldiers she had brought with her, hoping to instigate some sort of lapse in discipline that would reflect poorly on the quality of the troops that Ejon was planning on offering.
Zanka, however, who had also noticed Ejon making her move, was bolder in her offensive. “I have heard that the Cathak intend to offer a Dragon of troops to defend Lagan,” she said, loud enough for her voice to carry to the queen. “Not exactly what I would call a significant investment on their part, but then again, House Cathak has many interests all throughout Creation. In fact, one wonders exactly how committed they would be if something more pressing to their House were to arise in the region. Certainly, the Scarlet Empire is no longer the paragon of unity they once were.”
“But, my lady,” said the courtier to whom Zanka was nominally speaking, “would a formal treaty not obligate House Cathak keep their soldiers here, regardless of their other interests?”
“I suppose that is true,” Zanka replied, “assuming that the commander of these forces has a sense of honor greater than their loyalty to their House. But I am sure that five hundred foreign troops here will be sufficient to deter the Bull of the North – I presume the Bull will take an interest when the Immaculate Order establishes a Wyld Hunt here in the city.”
The crowds nearby murmured uncomfortably at this thought. Another courtier, one more seasoned, quickly stepped forward. “I can tell you have trained in the dramatic arts,” he said to Zanka. “We are staging a dramatic reading later this evening. I would be happy to introduce you to the performers – they would welcome the addition of such a strong and beautiful voice as yours.”
Though flattered, Zanka easily brushed aside the attempt to remove her from the scene. “I am sure that the performance will be delightful to watch,” she replied smoothly.
“Your Highness,” Cathak Ejon interjected, a hint of irritation in her voice. She had been trying unsuccessfully for some time to gain the attention of the queen, but was distracted by the fact that a group of young minor noblemen and noblewomen had suddenly taken an inordinate interest in her soldiers. Her soldiers had maintained discipline, though it had taken a few stern glances and sharp words from her. However, there was also the problem of the large Northerner who had been conversing with her men, apparently making disparaging comments about her command. She was fighting a war on several fronts, and was forced to split her attention. She glanced about the room, wondering where Ground Ripple had gone. He was supposed to be helping her, gods damn him.
At that very moment, Ground Ripple was engaged in an intense conversation with a tall, lovely young woman named Ayama, who professed to be a healer of some kind. She had approached him as he was on his way to join Cathak Ejon, and had asked him about his opinions on the strange malady that had once afflicted the ruler of this tiny little kingdom. Her own knowledge of the subject seemed far more detailed that what he had heard before, raising suspicions in him. His own line of questioning had only deepened his suspicions that this woman was more than she seemed.
“I would be very interested in knowing more about the subject of Lady Rinalta’s illness,” Ground Ripple said. “You seem an authority on the subject.”
Ayama smiled. “I only know what I have heard from others.”
“But until this moment I had not known that the disease was magical in nature. This is not a widely known fact. Your insight into the nature of this disease is impressive.”
“You flatter me,” Ayama said. “But I feel I must apologize. Far too much of this conversation has centered upon me, and in my own vanity I have allowed it to continue. But I would be most interested in hearing of your reasons fro being so far from home. What brings you to this kingdom?”
“I am really more interested in learning more about you,” Ground Ripple said.
“If you truly wish to know of me, then all you need to know is that I am a healer at heart. Everything that moves me, moves me to heal. So yes, I do know a great deal of the queen’s ailment. I know a great deal of the ailments of all Creation, all of the things that harm the people and keep them from excelling, and oppress them. And all I wish is to treat their ailments. This is the essence of compassion, I believe.”
“Your philosophy intrigues me,” the Earth Aspect said. “Perhaps we could retire to a quiet balcony to discuss this where we may have some privacy?”
“But are not such conversations meant for public ears?” Ayama countered, with a smile. “So that those around us may be inspired and enlightened by our discourse on virtue?” In truth, she merely did not want to be alone with this massive Terrestrial, and knew he would be hard-pressed to ignore an opportunity to spread his message.
Meanwhile, Zanka and Cathak Ejon had begun a hidden battle of words for the queen’s ear. Ejon had managed to curtail Kaliel and Ghost’s attempts to undermine her authority, and the Cathak soldiers were now almost eunuch-like in their ability to resist temptation. Zanka had hoped to use a lapse in discipline as an argument against allowing foreign troops into Lagan, but this was not coming to fruition. And now Ejon was beginning to build up the military history of her House and past victories against overwhelming forces, undermining her previous arguments about the offering of the Cathaks being insufficient. But then Zanka heard Ghost, speaking to a Guild merchant, remarking upon how cold and aloof the people in Ejon’s entourage seemed. In an instant, Zanka had her opening. Summoning Essence, she invested her words with power, such that they could not be ignored.
“It is one thing to speak of glory in battle,” Zanka began. “But the truth is that war is only a small part of the lives of any soldier. The rest of the time must be spent in the pursuits of life – food, companionship, pleasures of the mind and body. But I cannot help but notice as I look around that those who have come representing the Realm have been reluctant – no, resistant – to mingling with the local populace, or even conversing with them. They remain unmoved, even in light of this kingdom’s best efforts to welcome them and honor them! Such aloofness smacks heavily, if I may be so bold, of the well-known penchant for arrogance and superiority displayed by many from the Blessed Isle. It is no secret that the Empire ultimately regards the East as nothing but a renegade province, lacking both wisdom and culture. I fear that a Dragon of Realm troops would be no different than the dozen that have been brought here. They would look at everything around them and think only ‘it is better at home’. Thus they would scorn goods made in Lagan for those imported from the Isle, would refuse to associate with your citizens, whether common or noble-born, and would make every effort to separate themselves from your people. But how can soldiers truly be expected to defend a land they have no connection with? Who cannot see the greatness of its people, or its queen? Lagan deserves soldiers who will treat the defense of its lands as more than a military commission, but will have a true emotional connection with its people, who will put their heart and soul into battle, and who will ultimately represent the interests of Lagan, and not of a foreign host.”
The entire room fell silent, enraptured by Zanka’s words. Cathak Ejon, with a great effort of will, managed to clear her mind, and stepped forward to address Zanka. “You are an eloquent speaker,” she said quietly to the Crowned Sun. “Perhaps you and I could adjourn to somewhere more private?”
Zanka considered the offer of the Fire Aspect Terrestrial, and considered it more seriously than she had expected. It seemed that Ejon had Essence-charged fangs of her own when it came to social repartee. Still, she managed to ignore the Cathak’s offer, and continued with her own speech.
“Indeed, who better than the citizens of Lagan to defend their own land? Has not your own queen, Lady Rinalta, managed to ensure the peace and prosperity of this land through the strength of her word and her will, even in the face of crippling infirmity? Can her people offer up no less than this? All that is required is someone who would be willing to shape that will, to form a militia that is of Lagan and for Lagan. I have come here this evening to offer the queen and her people exactly this.” She pulled a roll of fine vellum from her bodice and presented it to Lady Rinalta. “Your Highness, this is a letter from the ruler of the city of Chrysanthemum, and the leader of the mercenary company known as the Chrysanthemum Knights. He offers to send a contingent of his Knights to Lynnisbrook for the purpose of training volunteers from your local populace. His soldiers will also assist in planning the defense of your nation, including the building of garrisons and supply depots throughout your lands. In addition, if needed my companions and I will seek an audience with the Queen of the Linowan Nation, in order to establish a formal declaration of non-aggression with Lagan.”
Lady Rinalta took the vellum and unrolled it, reading the letter silently. Of course, the letter had been written only this afternoon, penned by Ghost’s elegant hand, though the contents were exactly as Zanka had described them. She saw Cathak Ejon desperately try to get Lady Rinalta to move away for a private conversation, but the room was now filled with such a patriotic fervor that her courtiers were not allowing their queen to go anywhere.
Finally, Lady Rinalta rolled up the letter. “I am satisfied with what I have seen,” she announced loudly. “The Kingdom of Lagan shall enter into a formal alliance with the city of Chrysanthemum.”
The room erupted in cheers. Cathak Ejon, scowling, quickly turned and stalked out of the room, followed by her soldiers. In the next room, Ground Ripple had turned away from Ayama when he heard the announcement. “What?”
Ghost stepped up to Ayama as soon as the Immaculate’s back was turned. “Time to go, I believe,” he whispered.
When Ground Ripple turned again, the woman he had been speaking with was gone. Instead, he saw a furious Cathak Ejon, her eyes blazing.
۞
It was several hours before the four Chosen were allowed to depart Lady Rinalta’s estate. The representatives of the Realm, of course, had left much earlier, and from the balcony one could see the masts of Cathak Ejon’s ship as it moved out of the harbor.
They emerged into the courtyard, with a few others still milling about, still flush with their victory. But the smiles disappeared as they heard a disturbance, the sound of hoofbeats coming up the hill, approaching rapidly.
“A rider moving at such speed at this time of night in this district is not a good thing,” Ghost said.
“An attack?” Ayama ventured. “Perhaps the Cathak or the Immaculate seek vengeance?”
The horse and its rider came into view, galloping through the main gate of the estate before the guards could react.
Zanka gasped, and grasped Kaliel’s arm.
“I see him,” Kaliel growled. He raised a fist into the air. “Here!”
The rider turned his steed and rode up to the four Solars. The horse was flecked with foam, and looked as though it had been ridden nearly to death. The rider was in no better condition. All of them could now see that the man bore the heraldry of Kaliel’s own Knights of the Golden Flower.
“My lord,” the rider gasped, “our city is about to be besieged by an army of undead.”
The four Chosen split up and spent a few minutes socializing and getting a feel for the room before moving to find their targets. Ayama found the Immaculate monk Ground Ripple conversing with a local merchant, while Kaliel spotted Cathak Ejon trying to disengage herself from a local baron who was obviously quite enamored of either House Cathak or of Ejon herself. He quickly assessed Ejon’s entourage, and saw that they were nothing more than Realm soldiers that had been pressed into an appearance at a social function. Their discomfort was almost palpable.
“Make note of Ejon’s people,” Kaliel muttered to Ghost, as he and Zanka were passing by on their way to find the queen. “A lapse in discipline could prove damaging to their cause.”
Ghost nodded, and then caught up to Zanka as she entered the main hall. Lady Rinalta was near the center of the room, surrounded by courtiers and attendants. Ghost made the first move, attempting to make his way toward the queen. But unlike earlier, when he was able to use his name to get a private audience, here he was in the public eye, and under the scrutiny of those tasked to attend to Lady Rinalta, and so his efforts came to naught.
“I thought you said you were skilled at such matters,” Zanka said as Ghost circled back around.
“I am,” he said, “if it involves convincing someone to leave the party for more personal diversions. Trying to influence political policy is a less familiar role for me.”
Zanka sighed. “Allow me, then.” She began to move toward Lady Rinalta, drawing the gaze of several as she moved. She had chosen her wardrobe to impart the maximum visual impact, festooned in white and gold with tangerine and scarlet accents, which contrasted with the local style of silver and darker colors. Combined with her natural radiant visage, she came close to upstaging the queen herself – but not quite; Zanka had been careful about that.
As the Eclipse began to make her way through Lady Rinalta’s courtiers, Cathak Ejon finally made her way into the main hall, accompanied by her entourage and Kaliel, who had been silently observing the Terrestrial envoy. He had already gathered from her long conversation with the sycophant in the other room that Ejon was here to represent her own House, not the Empire, but that she was confident and secure in her success and her ability to follow through on her offer. Rather than intervene directly with the Cathak, who was now making her own foray into Lady Rinalta’s entourage, Kaliel decided he would work on the soldiers she had brought with her, hoping to instigate some sort of lapse in discipline that would reflect poorly on the quality of the troops that Ejon was planning on offering.
Zanka, however, who had also noticed Ejon making her move, was bolder in her offensive. “I have heard that the Cathak intend to offer a Dragon of troops to defend Lagan,” she said, loud enough for her voice to carry to the queen. “Not exactly what I would call a significant investment on their part, but then again, House Cathak has many interests all throughout Creation. In fact, one wonders exactly how committed they would be if something more pressing to their House were to arise in the region. Certainly, the Scarlet Empire is no longer the paragon of unity they once were.”
“But, my lady,” said the courtier to whom Zanka was nominally speaking, “would a formal treaty not obligate House Cathak keep their soldiers here, regardless of their other interests?”
“I suppose that is true,” Zanka replied, “assuming that the commander of these forces has a sense of honor greater than their loyalty to their House. But I am sure that five hundred foreign troops here will be sufficient to deter the Bull of the North – I presume the Bull will take an interest when the Immaculate Order establishes a Wyld Hunt here in the city.”
The crowds nearby murmured uncomfortably at this thought. Another courtier, one more seasoned, quickly stepped forward. “I can tell you have trained in the dramatic arts,” he said to Zanka. “We are staging a dramatic reading later this evening. I would be happy to introduce you to the performers – they would welcome the addition of such a strong and beautiful voice as yours.”
Though flattered, Zanka easily brushed aside the attempt to remove her from the scene. “I am sure that the performance will be delightful to watch,” she replied smoothly.
“Your Highness,” Cathak Ejon interjected, a hint of irritation in her voice. She had been trying unsuccessfully for some time to gain the attention of the queen, but was distracted by the fact that a group of young minor noblemen and noblewomen had suddenly taken an inordinate interest in her soldiers. Her soldiers had maintained discipline, though it had taken a few stern glances and sharp words from her. However, there was also the problem of the large Northerner who had been conversing with her men, apparently making disparaging comments about her command. She was fighting a war on several fronts, and was forced to split her attention. She glanced about the room, wondering where Ground Ripple had gone. He was supposed to be helping her, gods damn him.
At that very moment, Ground Ripple was engaged in an intense conversation with a tall, lovely young woman named Ayama, who professed to be a healer of some kind. She had approached him as he was on his way to join Cathak Ejon, and had asked him about his opinions on the strange malady that had once afflicted the ruler of this tiny little kingdom. Her own knowledge of the subject seemed far more detailed that what he had heard before, raising suspicions in him. His own line of questioning had only deepened his suspicions that this woman was more than she seemed.
“I would be very interested in knowing more about the subject of Lady Rinalta’s illness,” Ground Ripple said. “You seem an authority on the subject.”
Ayama smiled. “I only know what I have heard from others.”
“But until this moment I had not known that the disease was magical in nature. This is not a widely known fact. Your insight into the nature of this disease is impressive.”
“You flatter me,” Ayama said. “But I feel I must apologize. Far too much of this conversation has centered upon me, and in my own vanity I have allowed it to continue. But I would be most interested in hearing of your reasons fro being so far from home. What brings you to this kingdom?”
“I am really more interested in learning more about you,” Ground Ripple said.
“If you truly wish to know of me, then all you need to know is that I am a healer at heart. Everything that moves me, moves me to heal. So yes, I do know a great deal of the queen’s ailment. I know a great deal of the ailments of all Creation, all of the things that harm the people and keep them from excelling, and oppress them. And all I wish is to treat their ailments. This is the essence of compassion, I believe.”
“Your philosophy intrigues me,” the Earth Aspect said. “Perhaps we could retire to a quiet balcony to discuss this where we may have some privacy?”
“But are not such conversations meant for public ears?” Ayama countered, with a smile. “So that those around us may be inspired and enlightened by our discourse on virtue?” In truth, she merely did not want to be alone with this massive Terrestrial, and knew he would be hard-pressed to ignore an opportunity to spread his message.
Meanwhile, Zanka and Cathak Ejon had begun a hidden battle of words for the queen’s ear. Ejon had managed to curtail Kaliel and Ghost’s attempts to undermine her authority, and the Cathak soldiers were now almost eunuch-like in their ability to resist temptation. Zanka had hoped to use a lapse in discipline as an argument against allowing foreign troops into Lagan, but this was not coming to fruition. And now Ejon was beginning to build up the military history of her House and past victories against overwhelming forces, undermining her previous arguments about the offering of the Cathaks being insufficient. But then Zanka heard Ghost, speaking to a Guild merchant, remarking upon how cold and aloof the people in Ejon’s entourage seemed. In an instant, Zanka had her opening. Summoning Essence, she invested her words with power, such that they could not be ignored.
“It is one thing to speak of glory in battle,” Zanka began. “But the truth is that war is only a small part of the lives of any soldier. The rest of the time must be spent in the pursuits of life – food, companionship, pleasures of the mind and body. But I cannot help but notice as I look around that those who have come representing the Realm have been reluctant – no, resistant – to mingling with the local populace, or even conversing with them. They remain unmoved, even in light of this kingdom’s best efforts to welcome them and honor them! Such aloofness smacks heavily, if I may be so bold, of the well-known penchant for arrogance and superiority displayed by many from the Blessed Isle. It is no secret that the Empire ultimately regards the East as nothing but a renegade province, lacking both wisdom and culture. I fear that a Dragon of Realm troops would be no different than the dozen that have been brought here. They would look at everything around them and think only ‘it is better at home’. Thus they would scorn goods made in Lagan for those imported from the Isle, would refuse to associate with your citizens, whether common or noble-born, and would make every effort to separate themselves from your people. But how can soldiers truly be expected to defend a land they have no connection with? Who cannot see the greatness of its people, or its queen? Lagan deserves soldiers who will treat the defense of its lands as more than a military commission, but will have a true emotional connection with its people, who will put their heart and soul into battle, and who will ultimately represent the interests of Lagan, and not of a foreign host.”
The entire room fell silent, enraptured by Zanka’s words. Cathak Ejon, with a great effort of will, managed to clear her mind, and stepped forward to address Zanka. “You are an eloquent speaker,” she said quietly to the Crowned Sun. “Perhaps you and I could adjourn to somewhere more private?”
Zanka considered the offer of the Fire Aspect Terrestrial, and considered it more seriously than she had expected. It seemed that Ejon had Essence-charged fangs of her own when it came to social repartee. Still, she managed to ignore the Cathak’s offer, and continued with her own speech.
“Indeed, who better than the citizens of Lagan to defend their own land? Has not your own queen, Lady Rinalta, managed to ensure the peace and prosperity of this land through the strength of her word and her will, even in the face of crippling infirmity? Can her people offer up no less than this? All that is required is someone who would be willing to shape that will, to form a militia that is of Lagan and for Lagan. I have come here this evening to offer the queen and her people exactly this.” She pulled a roll of fine vellum from her bodice and presented it to Lady Rinalta. “Your Highness, this is a letter from the ruler of the city of Chrysanthemum, and the leader of the mercenary company known as the Chrysanthemum Knights. He offers to send a contingent of his Knights to Lynnisbrook for the purpose of training volunteers from your local populace. His soldiers will also assist in planning the defense of your nation, including the building of garrisons and supply depots throughout your lands. In addition, if needed my companions and I will seek an audience with the Queen of the Linowan Nation, in order to establish a formal declaration of non-aggression with Lagan.”
Lady Rinalta took the vellum and unrolled it, reading the letter silently. Of course, the letter had been written only this afternoon, penned by Ghost’s elegant hand, though the contents were exactly as Zanka had described them. She saw Cathak Ejon desperately try to get Lady Rinalta to move away for a private conversation, but the room was now filled with such a patriotic fervor that her courtiers were not allowing their queen to go anywhere.
Finally, Lady Rinalta rolled up the letter. “I am satisfied with what I have seen,” she announced loudly. “The Kingdom of Lagan shall enter into a formal alliance with the city of Chrysanthemum.”
The room erupted in cheers. Cathak Ejon, scowling, quickly turned and stalked out of the room, followed by her soldiers. In the next room, Ground Ripple had turned away from Ayama when he heard the announcement. “What?”
Ghost stepped up to Ayama as soon as the Immaculate’s back was turned. “Time to go, I believe,” he whispered.
When Ground Ripple turned again, the woman he had been speaking with was gone. Instead, he saw a furious Cathak Ejon, her eyes blazing.
۞
They emerged into the courtyard, with a few others still milling about, still flush with their victory. But the smiles disappeared as they heard a disturbance, the sound of hoofbeats coming up the hill, approaching rapidly.
“A rider moving at such speed at this time of night in this district is not a good thing,” Ghost said.
“An attack?” Ayama ventured. “Perhaps the Cathak or the Immaculate seek vengeance?”
The horse and its rider came into view, galloping through the main gate of the estate before the guards could react.
Zanka gasped, and grasped Kaliel’s arm.
“I see him,” Kaliel growled. He raised a fist into the air. “Here!”
The rider turned his steed and rode up to the four Solars. The horse was flecked with foam, and looked as though it had been ridden nearly to death. The rider was in no better condition. All of them could now see that the man bore the heraldry of Kaliel’s own Knights of the Golden Flower.
“My lord,” the rider gasped, “our city is about to be besieged by an army of undead.”
Delemental
First Post
Strange Afflictions
Kaliel and his friends sat atop their horses on a small hill, overlooking the city of Chrysanthemum and the walking dead who surrounded it.
They had ridden hard for two weeks, leaving Lynnisbrook within hours after Kaliel’s soldier had ridden up to them. From here, they could see that the city had been sealed shut for some time, probably since shortly after the scout had left to find the Auric Lion. The horde of dead, numbering perhaps a thousand all told, had gathered all around the city’s walls, staying back out of the range of bows. The majority of them were clustered in two groups, one at each gate.
“They attack at night,” the scout had told them on the way. “We drive them off, but our losses have been growing, and we have been unable to resupply the town. I was barely able to slip past them to come and find you, sir. Sergeant Brusk has organized a militia to help defend the walls, but the people are growing hungry, and desperate.”
“Where did they come from?” Ghost asked.
“From the northwest,” the scout replied. “More than that we cannot say.”
Kaliel turned to his companions. “We will need to find a way to enter the city,” he announced.
“Give me time to study the lay of the land,” Ghost said. “I can find a path. We will have to leave the horses behind.”
“Kaliel,” Ayama said, “did you not say that there is a spirit who controls the lands outside your city?”
“Yes, Blizzard That Topples the Oak.”
“Where might I find him? The presence of the walking dead in his lands is no more tolerable to him than it is to you, I am certain. Perhaps he will aid you.”
“Perhaps,” Kaliel said. “I would try that stand of pine to the southwest. He has been seen there most frequently, I am told.”
Ayama dismounted and set off on foot. After several minutes of careful searching and addressing the unseen spirits surrounding her, she was finally approached by a minor wind-spirit, who beckoned her forward. She walked into a silent clearing on a small rise, the only sound from the wind.
Then, a figure appeared. Tall and imposing, the spirit looked like one of the members of the Icewalker tribes, though wearing clothing that appeared far more urban that would be expected from either an Icewalker or an elemental spirit. Clearly, the spirit had altered his appearance since his arrival at Kaliel’s gate. Ayama bowed.
“You are Blizzard That Topples the Oak?”
“I am. What do you want?”
“My name is Ayama. I have come in regard to the many undead that now surround the city of Chrysanthemum. I suspect that their presence here is displeasing to you.”
“This goes without saying,” Blizzard rumbled. “Though nothing has happened as of yet.”
“The lord of the city intends to deal with the problem soon,” Ayama said. “I have come to see if you are willing to offer assistance to his cause.”
Blizzrd grumbled. “Who is asking?”
Ayama bowed again. “The request is mine, though I can carry your words to Kaliel. He is ultimately the one who will approve.”
“Then he is ultimately the one who must ask. I will await him here.”
Ayama returned to her companions and relayed the spirits words. Kaliel grunted in response.
“We will see how the first day’s fighting goes,” he said.
“Kaliel…” Ayama began.
“I know what you will say, Ayama,” Kaliel replied. “But I must think of the future beyond this event. Blizzard That Topples the Oak wants me to humble myself. If it is needed to save my people, I will do so. But it will not do for Blizzard to believe that he has an advantage over me.”
Ayama’s look was slightly disapproving, but she nodded. “Just remember that if you end up needing his aid later, he will make you eat that much more crow.”
“I understand.”
Ghost returned shortly thereafter, and guided the four Solars and the scout across the fields and toward the southern wall. As they approached the city, an unexpected shift in the undead horde brought them within sight of the group, but before they could be reached, the men on the walls extended long poles, allowing them to climb to safety.
The scene inside the city was bleak. The entire town carried the reek of unwashed bodies and wastes that could not be disposed. The faces of many showed the signs of mild starvation. Both Ayama and Zanka looked almost sick; the former from worry, the latter from the stink.
“Kaliel,” Ayama asked, “where would I find your quartermaster?”
Kaliel pointed at a building near the center of town, and Ayama departed. Soon, a large man came running up to Kaliel and saluted; a whispered comment from Zanka identified him as Sergeant Brusk. He and Kaliel exchanged a few words, and then made their way to the main command post in the center of town. Ghost and Zanka followed. They entered a large office, which was dominated by a sturdy looking desk that had obviously not been used in months, though it had been kept clean. A smaller desk, belonging to Brusk, was off to one side and piled with parchment.
“Roughly four weeks ago,” Brusk began, “our scouts noted a horde of walking dead coming from the northwest, and moving with some purpose toward Chrysanthemum. We secured what supplies we had and fortified the city while trying to gain intelligence on the enemy. To date we have been unable to identify any sort of command structure, though it is clear they are being guided by an intelligence – note the fact that they only attack at night, and remain out of range in the day. It is uncertain if our city was the primary target for this horde, or was merely a target of opportunity.”
“We will need to break this siege quickly,” Kaliel said. “I have need of you to the south.”
“I think everyone would appreciate that, sir,” Brusk said.
“Morale has been a concern, sergeant?” Zanka asked.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I will see what I can do for them,” Zanka said.
“What is our current field strength?” Kaliel asked.
“We can field three-quarters of the Knights,” Brusk reported. “The rest are down with injuries or illness.”
“What illness?”
Ayama walked into the room at that moment. “The illness caused by living for a month without fresh food or water,” she replied. “And the fact that some of your people are starting to eat the rats does not help matters. Your quartermaster has been trying to warn people, but he’s certain that some have grown hungry enough to do this.”
“All the more reason to end this,” Kaliel said. “Ayama, I will take you to meet with our healers. Zanka, spend some time among the people and give them hope. Ghost…”
Ghost held up his hands, smiling. “I have no talents which will aid in these matters, Kaliel, this I know. If nothing else, I will man the walls tonight and lend what aid I can.”
The attack came as soon as the sun set. The dead swarmed the walls from all sides, clambering atop each other in an attempt to enter the city. Men and women lashed out at them with swords, axes, and long hooked poles. A few unfortunates were pulled, screaming, from the walls, while others simply dropped from exhaustion as the night wore on.
The attacks ceased as the sky began to lighten, and the dead withdrew. The city’s defenders also vanished from the walls, retreating to safety. The dead shuffled about for a few minutes, and then began to shamble away, moving off toward the trees.
The horde stopped suddenly as a loud noise echoed across the cold plain. The main gates of Chrysanthemum opened for the first time in weeks. The sun blazed over the horizon as the sound of thunder filled the air – but it was not the sun whose light blazed across the fields, but that of Kaliel, whose anima unfurled like a pair of golden wings as he led his Knights in a charge toward the walking dead.
The hooves of the horses thundered as the wedge or armored warriors approached. A swarm of throwing axes preceded the Knights as they closed in, joined by a pair of amber-colored boomerangs. Thus there was already a considerable gap in the horde when the Knights crashed into it. Rotting flesh and bone flew apart as blades flashed and hooves trampled, and the wedge crashed through the mass of walking corpses and out the other side. The Knights quickly wheeled around for another charge, but the dead, recovering from the shock, quickly closed ranks and pursued. But the dead, though far more numerous, were disorganized, and could not penetrate the close ranks of Kaliel’s forces. The dead could also not withstand the attacks of Ayama, whose very touch sent them to their final rest.
Surrounded by zombies, Kaliel’s Knights dug in and simply began hacking at dead limbs, surrounded by the blazing light of multiple Solar animas rising into the sky. Zanka, who was riding near the center and shouting encouragement to the soldiers, was nonetheless looking sickened by the smell of dead, cold flesh and putrefying organs being spilled upon the cold ground. Soon the ground was slick with gore, though almost all of it was from the unliving invaders. Within a few minutes, it was the Knights who had the advantage of numbers. With the mass of the enemy dispatched, Kaliel was finally able to see the entity that commanded them; a ghost, its ravenous, hateful eyes fixed on the Dawn commander that had destroyed his army.
Wheeling around on her horse, trying to avoid getting too close to the front lines, Zanka looked back at Chrysanthemum and saw something quite unusual. The gates had been opened again, and there was a steady stream of people moving along the outer wall, heading for the river. They looked as thought they had hurriedly gathered everything they could carry with them. The stream of people was guarded by member of the town’s militia, who kept a wary eye out for any of the walking dead who had strayed from the battle.
“What is happening over there?” Zanka shouted, pointing. Ghost, following her gesture, sawed on his reins to get his horse turned around, and went galloping through an opening in the lines. He rode up to the gates.
“Corporal! What is going on here?”
“The sergeant’s ordered an evacuation of the city, sir,” the soldier said. “I don’t know why, but he said we had to get everyone to a safer location.”
“Safer than a walled city?” Ghost jumped off his horse and ran into the city, finding Sergeant Brusk at the center of town, shouting commands from a tower.
“What is happening here, Brusk?” Ghost asked.
“We need to get out of the city,” the sergeant growled. “It is no longer safe.”
Ghost looked around. “I see no breach.”
“The town was not invaded. Do you know how some of our people were eating rats?”
“I heard of that, yes,” Ghost answered.
“A few of those grew ill and died last night. Their deaths were not greatly noted, on account of those who fell defending the walls. This morning, just after the attack began, they rose again.”
“Seven Spirits Below!” Ghost exclaimed.
“They have been dealt with, but we lost a few citizens to them. There are many more who are ill, and I do not know who else will fall ill, or if this contamination will spread. So I have ordered everyone who is healthy to head for the river to make camp. The infirm and those known to have eaten rats are to remain in the city where they can be contained.”
“I will take this news to Kaliel,” Ghost said, he bolted for the gate where he had left his horse.
The Dawn Caste warrior was still in the midst of battle – though it was all but won, the dead were not wont to seek terms or surrender. The ghostly commander had tried to advance on Kaliel, but had been intercepted by Ayama, who attacked with fists blazing with Essence. Within seconds, it had dissolved into the air, destroyed.
Ghost came riding up. “Kaliel! There is trouble within the city!” He explained to everyone what had been discovered that morning.
Kaliel wheeled around. “Knights!” he shouted, “the city must be evacuated! Go and help our people to the river!” He then rode for the gate, his three companions right behind him. Kaliel and Zanka went for the command center, while Ayama and Ghost rode for the part of town where the dead had been kept during the siege.
They all met later than day, near dusk. They sat in Kaliel’s command tent, in the center of a sprawling encampment. Ayama’s face was solemn.
“I have examined the bodies that have reanimated,” she said. “And they bear signs of an unusual contagion. It is a dual affliction. The first component is a fairly typical plague, much as is spread by normal rats. But the second element, which rides upon the first like a mount, is more unusual. It is supernatural in origin, that much I can say, and it some superficial ways bears resemblance to what I have read about the Great Contagion, though with nowhere near that potency. It is this second affliction that causes the dead to rise.”
“Can it be treated?” Kaliel asked.
Ayamna shook her head. “I am not certain. First we will have to examine your people, to see how many are afflicted. I already have your healers and surgeons working on identifying those with the disease, and moving them out of the camp. So far, I estimate that perhaps a tenth of your people are afflicted. The symptoms of the plague can be treated, and life extended… but I can only cure one at a time with my gifts, and that is far too slow. I have had experience in such matters.” Ayama’s face suddenly had a haunted, pained look, one she quickly covered over. “And I must reserves some of my strength to deal with those who die; their bodies will need to be consumed by the power of the Unconquered Sun to prevent them from rising. A cure must be found… but no medicine that I know will accomplish this.”
“A tenth of my people would be nearly two thousand,” Kaliel said. “I will put the Knights at your disposal to help with moving people into the city for quarantine. Most of them did not eat rats and so should remain healthy for now.”
Ayama turned to Zanka. “I need you to talk to the people, tell them what is happening and keep them calm and cooperative.” Zanka nodded at this request.
“I will go and speak to Blizzard That Topples the Oak,” Kaliel said. “My people will need to hunt and forage heavily to replenish our supplies. And I am hoping he can help to remove the rats from the city; otherwise we will not be able to return home.”
“I will ride northwest with a few of your scouts,” Ghost said. “The dead came from that direction – it may help to know where they originated.”
There was little sleep to be had that night. While Ayama worked with the healers and Zanka spoke to the people to reassure them, Ghost was preparing to set out in the morning. Kaliel, meanwhile, walked out into the forest, to a clearing on a small rise. A figure awaited him there.
“I see you have dealt with the dead,” Blizzard That Topples the Oak said. “But why are your people encamped in my forest?”
“A plague has arisen in the city,” Kaliel said. “One with magical properties. It causes those who die from it to rise as the dead. The plague was spread by rats within the city. I have come to ask for your assistance in dealing with this plague. I would not wish it to spread beyond the city walls.”
Blizzard was silent for a moment. “I will speak to the scavenger spirits in my lands, and ask them to direct their charges to hunt within your city, rather than pick over the corpses on the battlefield. I can also have spirits guide your healers to medicinal herbs.” The spirit was silent for a moment. “And I have recently become aware of an old cache from the First Age located not far from here. I will send a guide to you in the morning.”
“Your aid is most appreciated, spirit,” Kaliel said. “I will inform my people.”
It was not until Kaliel was halfway back to the camp that he realized that Blizzard That Topples the Oak had made no threats, no demands, and offered no bargains for his services. He wondered at this for a moment, until he recalled that the spirit would have witnessed the morning’s battle, and seen him fighting alongside three Solar companions.
Kaliel smiled. The spirit was no fool.
Kaliel and his friends sat atop their horses on a small hill, overlooking the city of Chrysanthemum and the walking dead who surrounded it.
They had ridden hard for two weeks, leaving Lynnisbrook within hours after Kaliel’s soldier had ridden up to them. From here, they could see that the city had been sealed shut for some time, probably since shortly after the scout had left to find the Auric Lion. The horde of dead, numbering perhaps a thousand all told, had gathered all around the city’s walls, staying back out of the range of bows. The majority of them were clustered in two groups, one at each gate.
“They attack at night,” the scout had told them on the way. “We drive them off, but our losses have been growing, and we have been unable to resupply the town. I was barely able to slip past them to come and find you, sir. Sergeant Brusk has organized a militia to help defend the walls, but the people are growing hungry, and desperate.”
“Where did they come from?” Ghost asked.
“From the northwest,” the scout replied. “More than that we cannot say.”
Kaliel turned to his companions. “We will need to find a way to enter the city,” he announced.
“Give me time to study the lay of the land,” Ghost said. “I can find a path. We will have to leave the horses behind.”
“Kaliel,” Ayama said, “did you not say that there is a spirit who controls the lands outside your city?”
“Yes, Blizzard That Topples the Oak.”
“Where might I find him? The presence of the walking dead in his lands is no more tolerable to him than it is to you, I am certain. Perhaps he will aid you.”
“Perhaps,” Kaliel said. “I would try that stand of pine to the southwest. He has been seen there most frequently, I am told.”
Ayama dismounted and set off on foot. After several minutes of careful searching and addressing the unseen spirits surrounding her, she was finally approached by a minor wind-spirit, who beckoned her forward. She walked into a silent clearing on a small rise, the only sound from the wind.
Then, a figure appeared. Tall and imposing, the spirit looked like one of the members of the Icewalker tribes, though wearing clothing that appeared far more urban that would be expected from either an Icewalker or an elemental spirit. Clearly, the spirit had altered his appearance since his arrival at Kaliel’s gate. Ayama bowed.
“You are Blizzard That Topples the Oak?”
“I am. What do you want?”
“My name is Ayama. I have come in regard to the many undead that now surround the city of Chrysanthemum. I suspect that their presence here is displeasing to you.”
“This goes without saying,” Blizzard rumbled. “Though nothing has happened as of yet.”
“The lord of the city intends to deal with the problem soon,” Ayama said. “I have come to see if you are willing to offer assistance to his cause.”
Blizzrd grumbled. “Who is asking?”
Ayama bowed again. “The request is mine, though I can carry your words to Kaliel. He is ultimately the one who will approve.”
“Then he is ultimately the one who must ask. I will await him here.”
Ayama returned to her companions and relayed the spirits words. Kaliel grunted in response.
“We will see how the first day’s fighting goes,” he said.
“Kaliel…” Ayama began.
“I know what you will say, Ayama,” Kaliel replied. “But I must think of the future beyond this event. Blizzard That Topples the Oak wants me to humble myself. If it is needed to save my people, I will do so. But it will not do for Blizzard to believe that he has an advantage over me.”
Ayama’s look was slightly disapproving, but she nodded. “Just remember that if you end up needing his aid later, he will make you eat that much more crow.”
“I understand.”
Ghost returned shortly thereafter, and guided the four Solars and the scout across the fields and toward the southern wall. As they approached the city, an unexpected shift in the undead horde brought them within sight of the group, but before they could be reached, the men on the walls extended long poles, allowing them to climb to safety.
The scene inside the city was bleak. The entire town carried the reek of unwashed bodies and wastes that could not be disposed. The faces of many showed the signs of mild starvation. Both Ayama and Zanka looked almost sick; the former from worry, the latter from the stink.
“Kaliel,” Ayama asked, “where would I find your quartermaster?”
Kaliel pointed at a building near the center of town, and Ayama departed. Soon, a large man came running up to Kaliel and saluted; a whispered comment from Zanka identified him as Sergeant Brusk. He and Kaliel exchanged a few words, and then made their way to the main command post in the center of town. Ghost and Zanka followed. They entered a large office, which was dominated by a sturdy looking desk that had obviously not been used in months, though it had been kept clean. A smaller desk, belonging to Brusk, was off to one side and piled with parchment.
“Roughly four weeks ago,” Brusk began, “our scouts noted a horde of walking dead coming from the northwest, and moving with some purpose toward Chrysanthemum. We secured what supplies we had and fortified the city while trying to gain intelligence on the enemy. To date we have been unable to identify any sort of command structure, though it is clear they are being guided by an intelligence – note the fact that they only attack at night, and remain out of range in the day. It is uncertain if our city was the primary target for this horde, or was merely a target of opportunity.”
“We will need to break this siege quickly,” Kaliel said. “I have need of you to the south.”
“I think everyone would appreciate that, sir,” Brusk said.
“Morale has been a concern, sergeant?” Zanka asked.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I will see what I can do for them,” Zanka said.
“What is our current field strength?” Kaliel asked.
“We can field three-quarters of the Knights,” Brusk reported. “The rest are down with injuries or illness.”
“What illness?”
Ayama walked into the room at that moment. “The illness caused by living for a month without fresh food or water,” she replied. “And the fact that some of your people are starting to eat the rats does not help matters. Your quartermaster has been trying to warn people, but he’s certain that some have grown hungry enough to do this.”
“All the more reason to end this,” Kaliel said. “Ayama, I will take you to meet with our healers. Zanka, spend some time among the people and give them hope. Ghost…”
Ghost held up his hands, smiling. “I have no talents which will aid in these matters, Kaliel, this I know. If nothing else, I will man the walls tonight and lend what aid I can.”
The attack came as soon as the sun set. The dead swarmed the walls from all sides, clambering atop each other in an attempt to enter the city. Men and women lashed out at them with swords, axes, and long hooked poles. A few unfortunates were pulled, screaming, from the walls, while others simply dropped from exhaustion as the night wore on.
The attacks ceased as the sky began to lighten, and the dead withdrew. The city’s defenders also vanished from the walls, retreating to safety. The dead shuffled about for a few minutes, and then began to shamble away, moving off toward the trees.
The horde stopped suddenly as a loud noise echoed across the cold plain. The main gates of Chrysanthemum opened for the first time in weeks. The sun blazed over the horizon as the sound of thunder filled the air – but it was not the sun whose light blazed across the fields, but that of Kaliel, whose anima unfurled like a pair of golden wings as he led his Knights in a charge toward the walking dead.
The hooves of the horses thundered as the wedge or armored warriors approached. A swarm of throwing axes preceded the Knights as they closed in, joined by a pair of amber-colored boomerangs. Thus there was already a considerable gap in the horde when the Knights crashed into it. Rotting flesh and bone flew apart as blades flashed and hooves trampled, and the wedge crashed through the mass of walking corpses and out the other side. The Knights quickly wheeled around for another charge, but the dead, recovering from the shock, quickly closed ranks and pursued. But the dead, though far more numerous, were disorganized, and could not penetrate the close ranks of Kaliel’s forces. The dead could also not withstand the attacks of Ayama, whose very touch sent them to their final rest.
Surrounded by zombies, Kaliel’s Knights dug in and simply began hacking at dead limbs, surrounded by the blazing light of multiple Solar animas rising into the sky. Zanka, who was riding near the center and shouting encouragement to the soldiers, was nonetheless looking sickened by the smell of dead, cold flesh and putrefying organs being spilled upon the cold ground. Soon the ground was slick with gore, though almost all of it was from the unliving invaders. Within a few minutes, it was the Knights who had the advantage of numbers. With the mass of the enemy dispatched, Kaliel was finally able to see the entity that commanded them; a ghost, its ravenous, hateful eyes fixed on the Dawn commander that had destroyed his army.
Wheeling around on her horse, trying to avoid getting too close to the front lines, Zanka looked back at Chrysanthemum and saw something quite unusual. The gates had been opened again, and there was a steady stream of people moving along the outer wall, heading for the river. They looked as thought they had hurriedly gathered everything they could carry with them. The stream of people was guarded by member of the town’s militia, who kept a wary eye out for any of the walking dead who had strayed from the battle.
“What is happening over there?” Zanka shouted, pointing. Ghost, following her gesture, sawed on his reins to get his horse turned around, and went galloping through an opening in the lines. He rode up to the gates.
“Corporal! What is going on here?”
“The sergeant’s ordered an evacuation of the city, sir,” the soldier said. “I don’t know why, but he said we had to get everyone to a safer location.”
“Safer than a walled city?” Ghost jumped off his horse and ran into the city, finding Sergeant Brusk at the center of town, shouting commands from a tower.
“What is happening here, Brusk?” Ghost asked.
“We need to get out of the city,” the sergeant growled. “It is no longer safe.”
Ghost looked around. “I see no breach.”
“The town was not invaded. Do you know how some of our people were eating rats?”
“I heard of that, yes,” Ghost answered.
“A few of those grew ill and died last night. Their deaths were not greatly noted, on account of those who fell defending the walls. This morning, just after the attack began, they rose again.”
“Seven Spirits Below!” Ghost exclaimed.
“They have been dealt with, but we lost a few citizens to them. There are many more who are ill, and I do not know who else will fall ill, or if this contamination will spread. So I have ordered everyone who is healthy to head for the river to make camp. The infirm and those known to have eaten rats are to remain in the city where they can be contained.”
“I will take this news to Kaliel,” Ghost said, he bolted for the gate where he had left his horse.
The Dawn Caste warrior was still in the midst of battle – though it was all but won, the dead were not wont to seek terms or surrender. The ghostly commander had tried to advance on Kaliel, but had been intercepted by Ayama, who attacked with fists blazing with Essence. Within seconds, it had dissolved into the air, destroyed.
Ghost came riding up. “Kaliel! There is trouble within the city!” He explained to everyone what had been discovered that morning.
Kaliel wheeled around. “Knights!” he shouted, “the city must be evacuated! Go and help our people to the river!” He then rode for the gate, his three companions right behind him. Kaliel and Zanka went for the command center, while Ayama and Ghost rode for the part of town where the dead had been kept during the siege.
They all met later than day, near dusk. They sat in Kaliel’s command tent, in the center of a sprawling encampment. Ayama’s face was solemn.
“I have examined the bodies that have reanimated,” she said. “And they bear signs of an unusual contagion. It is a dual affliction. The first component is a fairly typical plague, much as is spread by normal rats. But the second element, which rides upon the first like a mount, is more unusual. It is supernatural in origin, that much I can say, and it some superficial ways bears resemblance to what I have read about the Great Contagion, though with nowhere near that potency. It is this second affliction that causes the dead to rise.”
“Can it be treated?” Kaliel asked.
Ayamna shook her head. “I am not certain. First we will have to examine your people, to see how many are afflicted. I already have your healers and surgeons working on identifying those with the disease, and moving them out of the camp. So far, I estimate that perhaps a tenth of your people are afflicted. The symptoms of the plague can be treated, and life extended… but I can only cure one at a time with my gifts, and that is far too slow. I have had experience in such matters.” Ayama’s face suddenly had a haunted, pained look, one she quickly covered over. “And I must reserves some of my strength to deal with those who die; their bodies will need to be consumed by the power of the Unconquered Sun to prevent them from rising. A cure must be found… but no medicine that I know will accomplish this.”
“A tenth of my people would be nearly two thousand,” Kaliel said. “I will put the Knights at your disposal to help with moving people into the city for quarantine. Most of them did not eat rats and so should remain healthy for now.”
Ayama turned to Zanka. “I need you to talk to the people, tell them what is happening and keep them calm and cooperative.” Zanka nodded at this request.
“I will go and speak to Blizzard That Topples the Oak,” Kaliel said. “My people will need to hunt and forage heavily to replenish our supplies. And I am hoping he can help to remove the rats from the city; otherwise we will not be able to return home.”
“I will ride northwest with a few of your scouts,” Ghost said. “The dead came from that direction – it may help to know where they originated.”
There was little sleep to be had that night. While Ayama worked with the healers and Zanka spoke to the people to reassure them, Ghost was preparing to set out in the morning. Kaliel, meanwhile, walked out into the forest, to a clearing on a small rise. A figure awaited him there.
“I see you have dealt with the dead,” Blizzard That Topples the Oak said. “But why are your people encamped in my forest?”
“A plague has arisen in the city,” Kaliel said. “One with magical properties. It causes those who die from it to rise as the dead. The plague was spread by rats within the city. I have come to ask for your assistance in dealing with this plague. I would not wish it to spread beyond the city walls.”
Blizzard was silent for a moment. “I will speak to the scavenger spirits in my lands, and ask them to direct their charges to hunt within your city, rather than pick over the corpses on the battlefield. I can also have spirits guide your healers to medicinal herbs.” The spirit was silent for a moment. “And I have recently become aware of an old cache from the First Age located not far from here. I will send a guide to you in the morning.”
“Your aid is most appreciated, spirit,” Kaliel said. “I will inform my people.”
It was not until Kaliel was halfway back to the camp that he realized that Blizzard That Topples the Oak had made no threats, no demands, and offered no bargains for his services. He wondered at this for a moment, until he recalled that the spirit would have witnessed the morning’s battle, and seen him fighting alongside three Solar companions.
Kaliel smiled. The spirit was no fool.
Delemental
First Post
Many hours of the night had passed before Ayama permitted herself to return to her tent for some rest. She had given directions to the herbalists and hedge witches in town, getting them to prepare reagents and gather materials, and had overseen the final examinations and quarantines. She had also personally overseen the burning of over fifty bodies. She had wanted to do more, but she felt drained, and she knew well that exhaustion could lead to errors in procedure or judgment.
She slept deeply, without dreams, which was something of a relief to her. Dealing with the plague in Chrysanthemum had brought back too many memories for her, memories of the plague in Petgrana that had claimed so many of her friends, including her husband, her daughter, and her mentor, and had nearly killed her as well. But Ayama had been saved by a miracle, by a blessing from the Unconquered Sun. This time, she feared there would be no such miracle forthcoming.
At some point, she became aware of a presence in her tent, a strong musk smell permeating the air. Opening her eyes, she came face to face with an enormous badger, the size of a pony, sitting next to her.
Slowly, Ayama sat up. The badger snuffled at her.
She drew on her reserves of Essence to give herself the power to communicate with beasts. “Greetings,” she chattered at it.
“That is not necessary,” the badger replied in the Old Tongue.
“I see. Greetings, then, badger. What may I do for you?”
“I am your guide. Blizzard That Topples the Oak sent me here.”
Ayama puzzled at this for a moment. She was not aware what need she had for a guide.
“I will wait here while you get the others,” the badger said. “Obviously, it would not do for me to walk around this camp if plain view. I do not relish the idea of being speared.”
“Of course. I will return shortly.” She rose, and exited the tent, making her way to the large command tent where Kaliel was staying. On her way there, she noted that a large black cloud seemed to have descended upon the nearby city. Looking closer, she saw that it was a great flock of raitons, hovering over Chrysanthemum .
When she arrived, the guards let her in right away to wait in the tent’s central chamber, and soon Kaliel emerged.
“Kaliel, there is a very large badger in my tent. It spoke to me, and said it had been sent by Blizzard That Topples the Oak…”
“Ah, yes, the guide.”
“You knew of this?”
“I did not have the opportunity to inform you,” Kaliel admitted. “There was too much to do, and we were both busy. But the guide has been sent to help us locate a cache from the First Age that is nearby.”
Ayama frowned. “I hardly think that this is the time to pursue such things.”
“Blizzard believes that it is possible there could be medicinal knowledge stored there,” Kaliel said. “I felt it was worth checking the possibility.”
“Very well,” Ayama said, “there is little I will be able to do today in any case. Have you informed Ghost and Zanka?”
“Not yet. Zanka is likely still in her tent, and Ghost…” Kaliel frowned.
It was some time before all four of them had gathered in Ayama’s tent. A rider had to be sent to collect Ghost, who had left with the scouts early that morning. While waiting, Ayama had gone out into the forest and killed a squirrel, bringing it back to offer their guide. When she returned, she found that the badger had dug out her tea set, and was delicately holding a cup with his long, sharp claws. He still graciously accepted Ayama’s offering.
Soon they were all crowded into the tent with the enormous badger, with Zanka pointedly trying not to look at the blood and tufts of squirrel fur on his claws.
“I am Blem Lï Lo,” the badger said. “I have been instructed by Blizzard That Topples the Oak to take you to where the cache may be.”
“May be?” Kaliel asked.
“Blizzard cannot pinpoint exactly where it is. No doubt the cache is protected by sorcery that prevents this. But I am certain it can be found quickly once we are there. I will meet you one of your miles north of the city in an hour.” With that, Blem Lï Lo burrowed into the earth and vanished into a tunnel.
The four Solars rendezvoused with their guide at the appointed time and place. They were led further north, generally following the river, and journeyed for half a day before Blem Lï Lo stopped. The trees had thinned here, replaced by rolling hills. The badger pointed out four slightly larger hills.
“The cache is located beneath one of these four mounds,” he said. “But I have no way of knowing which one is the right one, nor do I know where the entrance would be found.”
“Based on what little I understand of geomancy,” Ayama said, “if the mound to the east is the cache, the entry should face the nearby river, and be placed about halfway up the slope. The western mound would face southeast, and be close to the bottom.”
“I think I understand,” Kaliel said. “Somehow, it makes sense. The northern mound’s entry would be near the top, correct? And the southern mound’s door would face north.”
“That is correct,” Ayama nodded. “You have good instincts for these matters.”
“I assume that none of us brought shovels?” Ghost asked.
“We can fashion tools from the trees and stones,” Ayama said. “I suggest we each take a hill and begin digging. I will take the west, Zanka can take the east, Kaliel the north and Ghost the south.”
“I am afraid that I am not much good at physical labor,” Zanka said.
“Blem Lï Lo can dig for you,” Ghost said. “Wouldn’t want to get dirt under your nails, you know.”
The digging took them long into the day, and progress was slow. Only the eastern mound was excavated with any speed, with the badger-god’s claws quickly breaking up the hard soil while Zanka sat and told him stories to entertain him. As sunset neared, Zanka was startled out of the tale she told by the sound of a metallic clang deep inside the hole.
Blem Lï Lo’s snout emerged. “I think I have found it,” he said. “Tell the others.”
By the time everyone had arrived, the hole had been dug out and expanded enough to allow everyone to crawl in. At the end of the tunnel was a large metal door, covered in glyphs and carvings. Ghost moved forward, igniting his Solar aura to give him enough light to see.
“These carvings look like the Old Tongue,” Ghost said. “Ayama, can you read it?”
Ayama squeezed past Ghost to examine the door. The glyphs carved into the surface were Old Realm, but had worn away over the centuries, and some were illegible. There were also four symbols in the door, one in each corner; a flower, a monkey, a snake, and a tower of light.
“I believe it says, ‘This is … workshop of Kal…. Trespassers will be… subject? to… per? No, pen… penalties, per the … something that lends in ‘lar’ and then another word… it’s obscured, but the only thing it could be is ‘Deliberative’.”
“…lar Deliberative?” Kaliel asked. “Could it be ‘Solar Deliberative’?”
“What is that?” Ghost asked.
“I am not certain,” Ayama admitted. “And not knowing that would make it difficult to know who would be considered a ‘trespasser’.”
“But none of this tells us how to get inside,” Kaliel said. “But those symbols… is it not odd that they are similar to our own anima totems? Perhaps this workshop belonged to one of us.”
Kaliel reached forward and touched the engraving of the flower. It immediately began to glow with a soft, golden light. The other three joined him, each touching their own totemic symbol; Ghost pressed the monkey, Ayama the snake, and Zanka the pillar of light. When all four symbols were glowing, a seam suddenly appeared in the center of the door, and it swung inward silently. The passage beyond revealed stairs going down.
“It seems your theory may be correct,” Ghost said.
They followed the stairs down until they came to another door, though this one was of the more ordinary type which slid aside. They could hear the river running overhead, though there was no sign that any water had leaked through, even after centuries. Opening the door, the beheld a huge room, perhaps thirty yards on a side. The walls were lined with shelves, which held all manner of liquids and reagents. A few large books could be found here and there. In the center of the room were several cauldrons, some of which still held large quantities of boiling liquids. There were many work benches and tables lined with many alchemical items. A series of chains and pulleys were hung from the ceiling, obviously to help lift the cauldrons or other heavy objects.
On the far side of the room, perched against the wall, was an object that stood nearly twelve feet in height, nearly as tall as the room itself. The statue appeared to be made of solid copper, and depicted the lower half of a spider married to the upper body and head of a woman.
“Copper Spiders,” Zanka said. “That is one of the names given to Solars of the Twilight Caste.”
“It makes sense that this person who ran this workshop was a Twilight,” Ayama said. “They were the practitioners of such arts. Perhaps this particular Twilight was a part of a Circle with our previous incarnations, and the symbols on the door are there as a way to allow us to enter even if he or she was not present.”
“So, we may once have known this ‘Kal…’ person?” Ghost asked.
At the mention of the name Kal, the eyes on the spider statue opened, revealing a baleful glow. In a mechanical voice, it spoke.
“Four humanoids. Identify.”
“Zanka Odokari,” the Eclipse said, looking up in trepidation.
“Resplendent Ghost of Midnight.”
“Ayama.”
“Kaliel, the Auric Lion.”
“Do you have written authorization from Kal Bax?” the automaton intoned. Zanka recognized the name; among students of the occult, the name of Kal Bax was still held in reverence, even though he was an Anathema – for it was Kal Bax who had first gleaned the secrets of constructing manses.
“He is not around to do so,” Zanka said smoothly. “But we were able to open the door to this workshop without force or subterfuge, which would suggest that Kal Bax is not opposed to our presence here.”
“You are trespassers. By order of the Solar Deliberative, you must be executed.” The spider climbed down off the wall, and advanced upon them. Its two human limbs flowed like quicksilver and reshaped themselves into long, scything blades.
“This is not the kind of song I had hoped to hear,” Kaliel said, hefting his axe. Zanka moved back swiftly and took shelter behind a large table.
Ayama ran over to a shelf and grabbed a few vials. She handed them to Ghost. “Acid,” she said.
The construct scuttled forward, the copper surface rippling slightly as though it were made of liquid. It suddenly arced its abdomen over its head, balancing on its blade-arms and forelegs, and sprayed a liquid out of a spinneret in the rear that hardened upon contact with air into a web-like net. Ayama and Ghost leapt out of the way, while Kaliel began swinging his axe around in a dazzling display, spinning it in the air and cutting through the strands before they could settle on him.
Ghost ran and leapt high into the air, landing on the construct’s back and running along its abdomen, which felt almost like running across a vast mound of thick pudding. He hurled the vial of acid at the spinnerets, but the sturdy glass did not shatter against the slightly pliable surface, and dropped to the ground, unbroken. Kaliel ran up and slashed at the spidery legs, hoping to topple it, but the construct pulled its limbs back to avoid his swings, and those that did land seemed barely able to penetrate the metallic surface. The construct slashed at Kaliel with an arm-blade, impacting against his heavy armor and leaving a red gash across his shoulder where the blade anaged to slip between two plates. It then lashed out with both arms at one, aiming for both Kaliel and Ghost. Ghost dropped down into the splits and arched backward until his head touched the floor; the blade scythed across his chest, shredding his shirt but skittering off the starmetal armor he wore underneath. Kaliel, conversely, simply stood his ground, and brought his axe up at an angle and deflected the arm down to the floor, bringing the point down into the vial of acid that Ghost had thrown. The vial shattered, and the bladed arm instantly dissolved away. The construct reared back as it pulled the stump back, leaving a sizzling hole in the stone floor.
Ayama had moved off to the side of the chamber, looking for the controls to the hoisting mechanisms she could see mounted in the ceiling. She passed by a bubbling cauldron and saw that it was filled with a molten metal of some kind. “Bring it this way!” she shouted, even as she looked for the lever to release the lock on the cauldron’s cradle.
Ghost had jumped up again and was now swinging from one of the chains mounted to the ceiling. He swung around a grabbed a vial similar to the one he’d thrown before. He attempted to swing up to the ceiling to hide within one of the many dark corners there, but the chain was not as long as he had thought, leaving him short of his target and exposed. Fortunately, the spider-construct’s attention was diverted by Zanka, who had emerged from her hiding place and picked up another vial of the acid. She hurled it at the construct, and this time the vial shattered, spraying acid all over the construct’s back. Gaping holes appeared in the liquid copper armor, revealing some of the inner workings of the beast. Kaliel tried to take advantage, swinging from a chain and dropping down on the construct’s back, but a lightning-fast swipe of its remaining forelimb batted him aside. The construct advanced on Kaliel, its bladed arm flasing back and forth as the Dawn moved his weapon back and forth to deflect every swing.
A boiling, hissing noise filled the room as a pool of hot metal spread over one side of the room. Ayama stood next to the cauldron, muscles straining as she grasped the handle and pulled it over. Her anima blazed as she poured essence into her body, protecting herself from the intense heat of the cauldron’s handle and the pool of metal at her feet. The metal flowed out onto the floor in front of the construct, putting a barrier in between it and Zanka.
Another vial of acid sailed over the lake of hot metal and shattered against the construct, dissolving the majority of its metal skin and exposing most of the inner workings. An amber boomerang slammed into the construct’s abdomen, sailing through one of the holes in its armor and emerging on the other side, trailing bits of broken machinery and fluids. The huge spider staggered and lost some control of the legs on one side.
Kaliel shouted to get Ayama’s attention. “Be ready!” he called out, as he grapsed a large hook on a chain suspended from the ceiling. Nodding, Ayama ran over to the geared wheels that controlled the hoists. Kaliel ran underneath the construct and hooked the chain into the framework in the abdomen, and Ayama grasped the lever and pulled as hard as she could. The construct was pulled up off its legs and swung forward into the pool of hot metal. The legs began to melt away as soon as it dropped, and it skittered and flailed about to escape, but it was still being suspended by the chain and could not gain traction. Its blade-arm swung overhead and sliced through the chain holding it, dropping it into the metal pool but giving it the chance to scramble out, though it had lost several feet of length on each leg.
Ghost, seeing the effectiveness of Kaliel and Ayama’s combined attack, motioned for Zanka to throw the next vial of acid high. Though puzzled, she complied, arcing the vial high over the construct’s body. Ghost pulled out another boomerang, though not one of his glass weapons, and hurled in at the vial, striking it in midair and causing the acid to spray over the entire construct. Strange fluids began to leak from its body, and acrid smoke arose as the acid began to eat through structural elements of the guardian’s frame. It staggered, and then slumped to one side, spasming as cables began to fray and joints sheared off. Kaliel stepped forward, axe raised.
“Kal Bax is gone,” he said, looking into the expressionless face, now scarred with acid. “As we once were.” He brought the axe down.
It took some time to go through the contents of the workshop, though it was sped up when Ayama came upon a manifest. Several of the vials were found to contain medicinal unguents and potions, and some working notes were discovered which gave them directions for brewing a potion which Ayama felt would be able to counteract the magical plague in Chrysanthemum. Zanka found records that confirmed her suspicions – the workshop itself had indeed been a manse at one time, aspected to water, though the geomantic architecture had degraded over the centuries to the point that it no longer focused the essence as it once had. Still, it was now clear why Kal Bax had chosen this place to conduct experiments relating to all manner of liquids – including the liquid metal in which he had encased his guardian.
It was Ghost who found an ancient, leather-bound tome hidden in a secret cache. He handed it to Ayama, as it was written in the Old Tongue; upon perusal, she declared it to be a basic treatise on Celestial sorcery, detailed enough that one could learn the rudiments of the craft. This tome was carefully packed away along with many vials of medicine.
“Is everyone all right?” called a voice from outside. Blem Lï Lo’s snout poked around the corner of the door at the top of the stairs. They could see that the badger-god was straining against some unseen barrier at the entrance to the workshop.
“We are well,” Ayama called out. “We will be out soon. I apologize for not keeping you informed of what was happening.”
“From what I could hear, you were preoccupied.”
Ayama turned to the others. “We should get these medicines to the city as soon as possible.”
Ghost frowned. “We may need to wait for a while.” He pointed at the intense, bright animas surrounding both himself and Kaliel; Ghost’s had manifested with the image of a cavorting spider monkey, while Kaliel’s had flared out into brilliant, fiery wings from which a rain of golden chrysanthemums fell. “Though your people know of our true nature, Kaliel, if we emerge from this chamber our auras will be visible for leagues away. We don’t know who else might be in the area.”
“If you wish to return quickly,” Blem Lï Lo offered, “I can take you now, and your companions can return when they are able.”
“Thank you,” Ayama said. She emerged from the earthen mound, laden with books, scrolls, and vials.
“Climb upon my back, as you would a horse, but keep your head down near my shoulders. And then hold your breath for as long as you are able.” As soon as Ayama had done this, the giant badger began digging. Within moments, they were both rocketing through the soil, travelling much faster than any horse could gallop. After a few minutes, Blem Lï Lo broke through the earth, allowing Ayama to take another breath before burrowing down again. They arrived just outside the walls of the city just as the moon was rising; barely half of an hour had passed.
Ayama turned and bowed. “I thank you. Not only have you sped my return, but you have given me a most remarkable experience.”
“This is what it is to be a remarkable person,” Blem Lï Lo answered.
Weeks passed. A few dozen more people in the city died, but the cure was distributed quickly, and soon all trace of the illness had vanished. The raitons circling the city vanished, having gorged themselves on rats, and soon Kaliel was able to lead his people back into his city.
Ghost rode out with the scouts again, and it was two weeks before they returned. He told his companions of coming to a small shadowland, in the middle of nowhere, the apparent origin of the horde of dead that had attacked the city. Ghost could find no cause or reason for why this shadowland had come into being.
“There does not appear to be anything in the area which indicates any more threats will be emerging from there,” Ghost said. “Still, it may be worth investigating why this shadowland has suddenly appeared there.”
“That may have to wait,” said Kaliel.
“Why? What has happened?”
It was Zanka who answered. “While you were gone, we received an emissary… from Halta.” *
---------------------------------
* For those unfamiliar with the setting, Halta is a rather large nation in the same general region as Kaliel's city. This visit is important for two reasons; Halta has been engaged in an extended war with the Linowan Nation, which is another regional power which lies even closer to Chrysanthemum than Halta (and is also quite close to our new allies in Lagan) and more notably, Halta has recently allied itself with the forces of a known Solar general - Yurgen Kaneko, the Bull of the North.
I find myself unsure of exactly how much I should be explaining the various elements of the campaign setting. Since ENWorld is primarily a D&D-oriented site, I realized that the average reader will be less familiar with Exalted material than if I were posting this on a White Wolf forum. At the same time, I don't want to have my footnotes be as long as the story posts themselves (especially since I tend toward long story posts!).
I suppose that if any readers have questions about the setting or whatnot, they can ask and I'll answer - and I'll keep my footnotes to either explaining particularly quirky in-game events (such as Kaliel's uncanny ability to botch INT checks), or to explaining campaign elements that are critical to understanding what is going on (like knowing why Halta coming to visit is important).
She slept deeply, without dreams, which was something of a relief to her. Dealing with the plague in Chrysanthemum had brought back too many memories for her, memories of the plague in Petgrana that had claimed so many of her friends, including her husband, her daughter, and her mentor, and had nearly killed her as well. But Ayama had been saved by a miracle, by a blessing from the Unconquered Sun. This time, she feared there would be no such miracle forthcoming.
At some point, she became aware of a presence in her tent, a strong musk smell permeating the air. Opening her eyes, she came face to face with an enormous badger, the size of a pony, sitting next to her.
Slowly, Ayama sat up. The badger snuffled at her.
She drew on her reserves of Essence to give herself the power to communicate with beasts. “Greetings,” she chattered at it.
“That is not necessary,” the badger replied in the Old Tongue.
“I see. Greetings, then, badger. What may I do for you?”
“I am your guide. Blizzard That Topples the Oak sent me here.”
Ayama puzzled at this for a moment. She was not aware what need she had for a guide.
“I will wait here while you get the others,” the badger said. “Obviously, it would not do for me to walk around this camp if plain view. I do not relish the idea of being speared.”
“Of course. I will return shortly.” She rose, and exited the tent, making her way to the large command tent where Kaliel was staying. On her way there, she noted that a large black cloud seemed to have descended upon the nearby city. Looking closer, she saw that it was a great flock of raitons, hovering over Chrysanthemum .
When she arrived, the guards let her in right away to wait in the tent’s central chamber, and soon Kaliel emerged.
“Kaliel, there is a very large badger in my tent. It spoke to me, and said it had been sent by Blizzard That Topples the Oak…”
“Ah, yes, the guide.”
“You knew of this?”
“I did not have the opportunity to inform you,” Kaliel admitted. “There was too much to do, and we were both busy. But the guide has been sent to help us locate a cache from the First Age that is nearby.”
Ayama frowned. “I hardly think that this is the time to pursue such things.”
“Blizzard believes that it is possible there could be medicinal knowledge stored there,” Kaliel said. “I felt it was worth checking the possibility.”
“Very well,” Ayama said, “there is little I will be able to do today in any case. Have you informed Ghost and Zanka?”
“Not yet. Zanka is likely still in her tent, and Ghost…” Kaliel frowned.
It was some time before all four of them had gathered in Ayama’s tent. A rider had to be sent to collect Ghost, who had left with the scouts early that morning. While waiting, Ayama had gone out into the forest and killed a squirrel, bringing it back to offer their guide. When she returned, she found that the badger had dug out her tea set, and was delicately holding a cup with his long, sharp claws. He still graciously accepted Ayama’s offering.
Soon they were all crowded into the tent with the enormous badger, with Zanka pointedly trying not to look at the blood and tufts of squirrel fur on his claws.
“I am Blem Lï Lo,” the badger said. “I have been instructed by Blizzard That Topples the Oak to take you to where the cache may be.”
“May be?” Kaliel asked.
“Blizzard cannot pinpoint exactly where it is. No doubt the cache is protected by sorcery that prevents this. But I am certain it can be found quickly once we are there. I will meet you one of your miles north of the city in an hour.” With that, Blem Lï Lo burrowed into the earth and vanished into a tunnel.
The four Solars rendezvoused with their guide at the appointed time and place. They were led further north, generally following the river, and journeyed for half a day before Blem Lï Lo stopped. The trees had thinned here, replaced by rolling hills. The badger pointed out four slightly larger hills.
“The cache is located beneath one of these four mounds,” he said. “But I have no way of knowing which one is the right one, nor do I know where the entrance would be found.”
“Based on what little I understand of geomancy,” Ayama said, “if the mound to the east is the cache, the entry should face the nearby river, and be placed about halfway up the slope. The western mound would face southeast, and be close to the bottom.”
“I think I understand,” Kaliel said. “Somehow, it makes sense. The northern mound’s entry would be near the top, correct? And the southern mound’s door would face north.”
“That is correct,” Ayama nodded. “You have good instincts for these matters.”
“I assume that none of us brought shovels?” Ghost asked.
“We can fashion tools from the trees and stones,” Ayama said. “I suggest we each take a hill and begin digging. I will take the west, Zanka can take the east, Kaliel the north and Ghost the south.”
“I am afraid that I am not much good at physical labor,” Zanka said.
“Blem Lï Lo can dig for you,” Ghost said. “Wouldn’t want to get dirt under your nails, you know.”
The digging took them long into the day, and progress was slow. Only the eastern mound was excavated with any speed, with the badger-god’s claws quickly breaking up the hard soil while Zanka sat and told him stories to entertain him. As sunset neared, Zanka was startled out of the tale she told by the sound of a metallic clang deep inside the hole.
Blem Lï Lo’s snout emerged. “I think I have found it,” he said. “Tell the others.”
By the time everyone had arrived, the hole had been dug out and expanded enough to allow everyone to crawl in. At the end of the tunnel was a large metal door, covered in glyphs and carvings. Ghost moved forward, igniting his Solar aura to give him enough light to see.
“These carvings look like the Old Tongue,” Ghost said. “Ayama, can you read it?”
Ayama squeezed past Ghost to examine the door. The glyphs carved into the surface were Old Realm, but had worn away over the centuries, and some were illegible. There were also four symbols in the door, one in each corner; a flower, a monkey, a snake, and a tower of light.
“I believe it says, ‘This is … workshop of Kal…. Trespassers will be… subject? to… per? No, pen… penalties, per the … something that lends in ‘lar’ and then another word… it’s obscured, but the only thing it could be is ‘Deliberative’.”
“…lar Deliberative?” Kaliel asked. “Could it be ‘Solar Deliberative’?”
“What is that?” Ghost asked.
“I am not certain,” Ayama admitted. “And not knowing that would make it difficult to know who would be considered a ‘trespasser’.”
“But none of this tells us how to get inside,” Kaliel said. “But those symbols… is it not odd that they are similar to our own anima totems? Perhaps this workshop belonged to one of us.”
Kaliel reached forward and touched the engraving of the flower. It immediately began to glow with a soft, golden light. The other three joined him, each touching their own totemic symbol; Ghost pressed the monkey, Ayama the snake, and Zanka the pillar of light. When all four symbols were glowing, a seam suddenly appeared in the center of the door, and it swung inward silently. The passage beyond revealed stairs going down.
“It seems your theory may be correct,” Ghost said.
They followed the stairs down until they came to another door, though this one was of the more ordinary type which slid aside. They could hear the river running overhead, though there was no sign that any water had leaked through, even after centuries. Opening the door, the beheld a huge room, perhaps thirty yards on a side. The walls were lined with shelves, which held all manner of liquids and reagents. A few large books could be found here and there. In the center of the room were several cauldrons, some of which still held large quantities of boiling liquids. There were many work benches and tables lined with many alchemical items. A series of chains and pulleys were hung from the ceiling, obviously to help lift the cauldrons or other heavy objects.
On the far side of the room, perched against the wall, was an object that stood nearly twelve feet in height, nearly as tall as the room itself. The statue appeared to be made of solid copper, and depicted the lower half of a spider married to the upper body and head of a woman.
“Copper Spiders,” Zanka said. “That is one of the names given to Solars of the Twilight Caste.”
“It makes sense that this person who ran this workshop was a Twilight,” Ayama said. “They were the practitioners of such arts. Perhaps this particular Twilight was a part of a Circle with our previous incarnations, and the symbols on the door are there as a way to allow us to enter even if he or she was not present.”
“So, we may once have known this ‘Kal…’ person?” Ghost asked.
At the mention of the name Kal, the eyes on the spider statue opened, revealing a baleful glow. In a mechanical voice, it spoke.
“Four humanoids. Identify.”
“Zanka Odokari,” the Eclipse said, looking up in trepidation.
“Resplendent Ghost of Midnight.”
“Ayama.”
“Kaliel, the Auric Lion.”
“Do you have written authorization from Kal Bax?” the automaton intoned. Zanka recognized the name; among students of the occult, the name of Kal Bax was still held in reverence, even though he was an Anathema – for it was Kal Bax who had first gleaned the secrets of constructing manses.
“He is not around to do so,” Zanka said smoothly. “But we were able to open the door to this workshop without force or subterfuge, which would suggest that Kal Bax is not opposed to our presence here.”
“You are trespassers. By order of the Solar Deliberative, you must be executed.” The spider climbed down off the wall, and advanced upon them. Its two human limbs flowed like quicksilver and reshaped themselves into long, scything blades.
“This is not the kind of song I had hoped to hear,” Kaliel said, hefting his axe. Zanka moved back swiftly and took shelter behind a large table.
Ayama ran over to a shelf and grabbed a few vials. She handed them to Ghost. “Acid,” she said.
The construct scuttled forward, the copper surface rippling slightly as though it were made of liquid. It suddenly arced its abdomen over its head, balancing on its blade-arms and forelegs, and sprayed a liquid out of a spinneret in the rear that hardened upon contact with air into a web-like net. Ayama and Ghost leapt out of the way, while Kaliel began swinging his axe around in a dazzling display, spinning it in the air and cutting through the strands before they could settle on him.
Ghost ran and leapt high into the air, landing on the construct’s back and running along its abdomen, which felt almost like running across a vast mound of thick pudding. He hurled the vial of acid at the spinnerets, but the sturdy glass did not shatter against the slightly pliable surface, and dropped to the ground, unbroken. Kaliel ran up and slashed at the spidery legs, hoping to topple it, but the construct pulled its limbs back to avoid his swings, and those that did land seemed barely able to penetrate the metallic surface. The construct slashed at Kaliel with an arm-blade, impacting against his heavy armor and leaving a red gash across his shoulder where the blade anaged to slip between two plates. It then lashed out with both arms at one, aiming for both Kaliel and Ghost. Ghost dropped down into the splits and arched backward until his head touched the floor; the blade scythed across his chest, shredding his shirt but skittering off the starmetal armor he wore underneath. Kaliel, conversely, simply stood his ground, and brought his axe up at an angle and deflected the arm down to the floor, bringing the point down into the vial of acid that Ghost had thrown. The vial shattered, and the bladed arm instantly dissolved away. The construct reared back as it pulled the stump back, leaving a sizzling hole in the stone floor.
Ayama had moved off to the side of the chamber, looking for the controls to the hoisting mechanisms she could see mounted in the ceiling. She passed by a bubbling cauldron and saw that it was filled with a molten metal of some kind. “Bring it this way!” she shouted, even as she looked for the lever to release the lock on the cauldron’s cradle.
Ghost had jumped up again and was now swinging from one of the chains mounted to the ceiling. He swung around a grabbed a vial similar to the one he’d thrown before. He attempted to swing up to the ceiling to hide within one of the many dark corners there, but the chain was not as long as he had thought, leaving him short of his target and exposed. Fortunately, the spider-construct’s attention was diverted by Zanka, who had emerged from her hiding place and picked up another vial of the acid. She hurled it at the construct, and this time the vial shattered, spraying acid all over the construct’s back. Gaping holes appeared in the liquid copper armor, revealing some of the inner workings of the beast. Kaliel tried to take advantage, swinging from a chain and dropping down on the construct’s back, but a lightning-fast swipe of its remaining forelimb batted him aside. The construct advanced on Kaliel, its bladed arm flasing back and forth as the Dawn moved his weapon back and forth to deflect every swing.
A boiling, hissing noise filled the room as a pool of hot metal spread over one side of the room. Ayama stood next to the cauldron, muscles straining as she grasped the handle and pulled it over. Her anima blazed as she poured essence into her body, protecting herself from the intense heat of the cauldron’s handle and the pool of metal at her feet. The metal flowed out onto the floor in front of the construct, putting a barrier in between it and Zanka.
Another vial of acid sailed over the lake of hot metal and shattered against the construct, dissolving the majority of its metal skin and exposing most of the inner workings. An amber boomerang slammed into the construct’s abdomen, sailing through one of the holes in its armor and emerging on the other side, trailing bits of broken machinery and fluids. The huge spider staggered and lost some control of the legs on one side.
Kaliel shouted to get Ayama’s attention. “Be ready!” he called out, as he grapsed a large hook on a chain suspended from the ceiling. Nodding, Ayama ran over to the geared wheels that controlled the hoists. Kaliel ran underneath the construct and hooked the chain into the framework in the abdomen, and Ayama grasped the lever and pulled as hard as she could. The construct was pulled up off its legs and swung forward into the pool of hot metal. The legs began to melt away as soon as it dropped, and it skittered and flailed about to escape, but it was still being suspended by the chain and could not gain traction. Its blade-arm swung overhead and sliced through the chain holding it, dropping it into the metal pool but giving it the chance to scramble out, though it had lost several feet of length on each leg.
Ghost, seeing the effectiveness of Kaliel and Ayama’s combined attack, motioned for Zanka to throw the next vial of acid high. Though puzzled, she complied, arcing the vial high over the construct’s body. Ghost pulled out another boomerang, though not one of his glass weapons, and hurled in at the vial, striking it in midair and causing the acid to spray over the entire construct. Strange fluids began to leak from its body, and acrid smoke arose as the acid began to eat through structural elements of the guardian’s frame. It staggered, and then slumped to one side, spasming as cables began to fray and joints sheared off. Kaliel stepped forward, axe raised.
“Kal Bax is gone,” he said, looking into the expressionless face, now scarred with acid. “As we once were.” He brought the axe down.
It took some time to go through the contents of the workshop, though it was sped up when Ayama came upon a manifest. Several of the vials were found to contain medicinal unguents and potions, and some working notes were discovered which gave them directions for brewing a potion which Ayama felt would be able to counteract the magical plague in Chrysanthemum. Zanka found records that confirmed her suspicions – the workshop itself had indeed been a manse at one time, aspected to water, though the geomantic architecture had degraded over the centuries to the point that it no longer focused the essence as it once had. Still, it was now clear why Kal Bax had chosen this place to conduct experiments relating to all manner of liquids – including the liquid metal in which he had encased his guardian.
It was Ghost who found an ancient, leather-bound tome hidden in a secret cache. He handed it to Ayama, as it was written in the Old Tongue; upon perusal, she declared it to be a basic treatise on Celestial sorcery, detailed enough that one could learn the rudiments of the craft. This tome was carefully packed away along with many vials of medicine.
“Is everyone all right?” called a voice from outside. Blem Lï Lo’s snout poked around the corner of the door at the top of the stairs. They could see that the badger-god was straining against some unseen barrier at the entrance to the workshop.
“We are well,” Ayama called out. “We will be out soon. I apologize for not keeping you informed of what was happening.”
“From what I could hear, you were preoccupied.”
Ayama turned to the others. “We should get these medicines to the city as soon as possible.”
Ghost frowned. “We may need to wait for a while.” He pointed at the intense, bright animas surrounding both himself and Kaliel; Ghost’s had manifested with the image of a cavorting spider monkey, while Kaliel’s had flared out into brilliant, fiery wings from which a rain of golden chrysanthemums fell. “Though your people know of our true nature, Kaliel, if we emerge from this chamber our auras will be visible for leagues away. We don’t know who else might be in the area.”
“If you wish to return quickly,” Blem Lï Lo offered, “I can take you now, and your companions can return when they are able.”
“Thank you,” Ayama said. She emerged from the earthen mound, laden with books, scrolls, and vials.
“Climb upon my back, as you would a horse, but keep your head down near my shoulders. And then hold your breath for as long as you are able.” As soon as Ayama had done this, the giant badger began digging. Within moments, they were both rocketing through the soil, travelling much faster than any horse could gallop. After a few minutes, Blem Lï Lo broke through the earth, allowing Ayama to take another breath before burrowing down again. They arrived just outside the walls of the city just as the moon was rising; barely half of an hour had passed.
Ayama turned and bowed. “I thank you. Not only have you sped my return, but you have given me a most remarkable experience.”
“This is what it is to be a remarkable person,” Blem Lï Lo answered.
۞
Weeks passed. A few dozen more people in the city died, but the cure was distributed quickly, and soon all trace of the illness had vanished. The raitons circling the city vanished, having gorged themselves on rats, and soon Kaliel was able to lead his people back into his city.
Ghost rode out with the scouts again, and it was two weeks before they returned. He told his companions of coming to a small shadowland, in the middle of nowhere, the apparent origin of the horde of dead that had attacked the city. Ghost could find no cause or reason for why this shadowland had come into being.
“There does not appear to be anything in the area which indicates any more threats will be emerging from there,” Ghost said. “Still, it may be worth investigating why this shadowland has suddenly appeared there.”
“That may have to wait,” said Kaliel.
“Why? What has happened?”
It was Zanka who answered. “While you were gone, we received an emissary… from Halta.” *
---------------------------------
* For those unfamiliar with the setting, Halta is a rather large nation in the same general region as Kaliel's city. This visit is important for two reasons; Halta has been engaged in an extended war with the Linowan Nation, which is another regional power which lies even closer to Chrysanthemum than Halta (and is also quite close to our new allies in Lagan) and more notably, Halta has recently allied itself with the forces of a known Solar general - Yurgen Kaneko, the Bull of the North.
I find myself unsure of exactly how much I should be explaining the various elements of the campaign setting. Since ENWorld is primarily a D&D-oriented site, I realized that the average reader will be less familiar with Exalted material than if I were posting this on a White Wolf forum. At the same time, I don't want to have my footnotes be as long as the story posts themselves (especially since I tend toward long story posts!).
I suppose that if any readers have questions about the setting or whatnot, they can ask and I'll answer - and I'll keep my footnotes to either explaining particularly quirky in-game events (such as Kaliel's uncanny ability to botch INT checks), or to explaining campaign elements that are critical to understanding what is going on (like knowing why Halta coming to visit is important).
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Delemental
First Post
Shadow and Illumination
The arrival of the Haltan ambassador had caused quite a stir in Chrysanthemum. It was well known that Halta had allied with Yurgen Kaneko, the Bull of the North, and was currently at war with the Linowan Nation. Given that their own leader was also an Anathema, the people were understandable intrigued at being approached by this faraway kingdom. The fact that the ambassador was also a beastman was only a minor footnote; Kaliel’s people were accustomed to dealing with unusual people and events, and his race did little to influence their opinions one way or the other.
The ambassador, a snakeman named Three Certain Truths, approached Kaliel with what he termed a ‘token of good will’ from the Kingdom of Kalta; they would scale back their current offensive against the Linowans, which would in turn ease the pressure that the Linowans were placing on nearby lands. It was hoped, Three Certain Truths explained, that this would lead to future discussions between Halta and Chrysanthemum of more significant diplomatic arrangements. For his part, Kaliel played the gracious host, introducing the ambassador to his Circle as well as other officials in the town the Haltans could speak with if Kaliel was absent. After Three Certain Truths and his entourage left, Zanka noted that the snakeman had not seemed at all surprised to learn that there were four Solars in the city. They assumed that this information had been obtained by the Bull of the North, who was rumored to have access to powerful sorcery.
“If the Bull can find out that we are here,” Zanka observed, “then others can as well.”
Kaliel nodded. His own status as Anathema was no great secret; his Exaltation had been in full view of hundreds. Three factors had kept the Wyld Hunt away from Chrysanthemum’s gates so far: the city’s small size and relative isolation, the Realm’s own internal turmoil, and the greater threat presented by the Bull of the North. But while the Empire and the Immaculate Order might be able to ignore one Solar for a while, they could not ignore four.
“We should prepare to leave, then,” Kaliel stated. This news was received with glee by Ghost, who had long ago exhausted all of the diversions that the town offered, as well as those he had created for himself. Ayama was more reluctant, as there were still some recovering from the plague, but even she had to admit that they would recover just as well whether she was present or not.
“Where are we going?” Ghost asked.
“I would like to retrieve my sisters from the Tepet,” Kaliel said. Though he spoke little of the day of the betrayal that led to his Exaltation, they all knew that at the same time that his former mercenary band had been ambushed, forces from House Tepet had sacked his former home, the city of Kryptos, and carried off Kaliel’s two younger sisters. Whether the two events were related or coincidental had never been proven. Since then, Tepet’s legions had been broken by the Bull of the North, and the remainder of their armies had formed into the Vermilion Legion.
“From what I have heard,” Ghost said, “the Vermilion Legion is currently in the westernmost part of the South – in other words, as far from this corner of Creation as you can get. But if your sisters were taken as slaves, then they have probably been sold.”
“Not necessarily,” Zanka said. “Things are dire for House Tepet. Their armies have been humiliated, and they are under political attack on the Blessed Isle. Right now they are likely trying to consolidate their assets and look for any allies they can find.”
“Are you suggesting that they might try to use Kaliel’s sisters as a bargaining chip?” Ghost frowned. “I can hardly see bargaining with an Anathema to be a good idea for any Great House of the Realm.”
“They may only intend to use them as leverage to influence his actions,” Zanka replied.
“Either way,” Ghost smiled, “our best bet to find these two women is to track the Legions. They most likely sailed from Cherak; we can go there and inquire, to see if his sisters were with them when they set off.”
Ayama stepped into the conversation. “Kaliel, I would remind you that we have still not investigated the source of the zombies that descended on your town, nor the plague that followed. Ghost had tracked them to a small shadowland, had he not?”
“That is correct,” Ghost said, “a week’s ride to the northwest. The shadowland itself is only three, perhaps four miles across.”
“I would feel better knowing that no more threats to my people can emerge from this place,” Kaliel agreed. “We should ride there first.” Zanka paled a bit at this news.
“Cherak should only be a month’s ride from there,” Ghost said.
After seeing to a few last details – including sending Sergeant Brusk and half of the Knights of the Golden Flower to Lagan – the four Chosen were ready to depart. Kaliel had the foresight to secure some fetishes from Three Certain Truths that would announce them as friendly to the icewalker tribes that were allied with Yurgen Kaneko, which would aid their travels in the North.
Days later, they found themselves at the boundary of the shadowland that Ghost had found. They could all feel the sickening pull of the tainted Essence within. Ghost glanced at the early afternoon sky.
“If we wish to know more, we will have to journey inside.”
“No.” said Zanka flatly. “This is a place where the underworld has been drawn to Creation by some horrific act. I have no wish to know more.”
“I agree with Ghost,” Kaliel said. “We must try to learn what has caused this shadowland to emerge in such a remote area, and if anything inside poses a threat.”
“Do we know how long this place has existed, Kaliel?” Ayama asked.
“I cannot be certain. My people do not come out this far.”
“If you are going,” Zanka said, “you must be back before the sun touches the horizon, or else you may not come back.”
“Then we shall make our investigation quick,” said Ghost irritably, irked by Zanka’s timidity.
“Zanka,” Kaliel said, “We could use your knowledge of the occult to aid us in finding what we seek and then leaving.”
“You could use my knowledge of the occult right now to not go in at all!” she snapped back.
Ayama maneuvered her horse so it stood next to the Eclipse’s steed, and reached out to touch Zanka’s shoulder. “Zanka, if we do not try to find out what kind of threat this place still might hold, and we leave Chrysanthemum…”
“You are going to make me go with you, aren’t you?” Zanka said.
“You are Chosen by the Unconquered Sun,” Ghost said. “You are not meant to avoid problems.”
Zanka turned to Kaliel. “You are aware that this will only delay your chance to find Kassandra and Kalliope? Perhaps forever?”
“I am aware of the risk. Rescuing my sisters is important, but making sure they have a home to return to is important as well.”
They began to turn their horses and maneuver toward the boundary of the shadowland. Ghost fell back slightly and offered a bottle to Zanka. “Liquid courage,” he told her.
Physically crossing into the shadowland was no great physical challenge. Mentally, however, they found themselves assailed by morose, troublesome thoughts that plagued them and distracted them. Most of them were able to dismiss such thoughts, but Kaliel found his mind consumed with worry for his sisters, envisioning all manner of terrible fates. Thus when the four Solars reached the center of the corrupted land, he barely noticed.
They were in a large, open area, which even after several weeks still showed signs that it had once been occupied by a large horde of the walking dead. They could tell that the zombies had entered the shadowland from the north, and gathered here for a time before setting out southeast toward Chrysanthemum. It was Ayama who noticed a single set of tracks that led off to the northwest.
“Look at these,” she said, pointing as everyone gathered. “They were made by someone carrying a great weight, yet his gait suggests he was not unduly burdened. I would presume that this person is quite strong.”
“It is obvious that the zombies who gathered here were not created here,” Ghost said. “Nor would I assume their presence was the catalyst for the shadowland to exist. It seems to have been a rallying point for a pack of zombies that were heading south, and then redirected southeast. It is possible that the heavy object this individual was carrying away was brought here by the zombies.”
They followed the tracks to the northwestern edge of the shadowland, where they vanished without a trace at the very edge of the boundary.
“It appears that our quarry has ventured somewhere beyond the veil,” Ayama said.
“Then we will have to wait here until after the sun sets to follow him,” Kaliel affirmed.
“No!” Zanka protested. “We could be trapped forever in the underworld!”
“Only if we were mortal,” Ayama pointed out. “As beings that can control Essence, we are tied to Creation, and can avoid being pulled into the underworld at night. Much the same as a being tied to the underworld can avoid entering Creation at a shadowland’s edge, even in the daylight. So there is no guarantee that whoever this is crossed over at night, since it would not be unreasonable to assume that this could be a necromancer.”
Frowning, Zanka reached into a saddlebag and pulled out one of the tomes from Kal Bax’s workshop. “Now that you say that, I recall Kal Bax mentioning this very thing. He also pointed out that Solars lose their connection to Creation while in the underworld, and are cut off from the Essence. We would be diminished there.”
“It is no worse than when I was mortal,” Kaliel growled. “The Unconquered Sun did not reach down from Heaven to Exalt me so that I would choose to turn tail and run.”
“Neither did he reach down and bestow a suit of armor and a blade upon me,” Zanka retorted. She was shaking visibly.
“Let us also consider what we know,” Ghost said, “or rather, what we do not know. All we have ascertained is that this individual is strong, he or she likely has some ability to control the Essence of the underworld, and may have some power over the dead. This trail is weeks old at best, and leads through unknown and hostile territory. The Unconquered Sun did not Exalt us to run from battle, I agree, but he also did not Exalt us to rush headlong into an unknown situation that will likely lead to our deaths.” Ghost swept his arm around to encompass the Shadowland behind them. “We know that there is nothing present in this place now that will pose a threat to us or to Chrysanthemum. We also know that whatever it was that this person was carrying into the underworld, it was not your sisters. They are to be found elsewhere.”
“The attack on Chrysanthemum may have been nothing more than a diversion,” Ayama observed. “Perhaps after delivering the object they brought from the north, they were simply sent southeast toward civilized lands on a whim, to sow chaos and destruction with no clear goal. It may have even been meant to alarm nearby settlements enough that they would remain bound close to home, rather than riding out and possibly stumbling upon whatever they were planning.”
“Then perhaps,” Kaliel said, his hand resting atop the handle of his axe, “I should have an outrider sent out to trail these zombies back to their source, so that we may know at their true origins.”
Satisfied with the plan, the four Exalts exited the shadowland, and soon Ayama had made a bargain with a crow to carry a short message back to Chrysanthemum, containing Kaliel’s orders. That done, they spend the remainder of the day putting miles between themselves and the shadowland, much to Zanka’s relief.
As they rode, Ayama came up alongside the Eclipse. “You did well back there,” she said, putting her arms around Zanka’s shoulder. “It is right to be unnerved in such surroundings.” She smiled at the petite young Exalt, reminded of nights when she comforted her own beloved Dakarai. She and Zanka would have been about the same age…
The arrival of the Haltan ambassador had caused quite a stir in Chrysanthemum. It was well known that Halta had allied with Yurgen Kaneko, the Bull of the North, and was currently at war with the Linowan Nation. Given that their own leader was also an Anathema, the people were understandable intrigued at being approached by this faraway kingdom. The fact that the ambassador was also a beastman was only a minor footnote; Kaliel’s people were accustomed to dealing with unusual people and events, and his race did little to influence their opinions one way or the other.
The ambassador, a snakeman named Three Certain Truths, approached Kaliel with what he termed a ‘token of good will’ from the Kingdom of Kalta; they would scale back their current offensive against the Linowans, which would in turn ease the pressure that the Linowans were placing on nearby lands. It was hoped, Three Certain Truths explained, that this would lead to future discussions between Halta and Chrysanthemum of more significant diplomatic arrangements. For his part, Kaliel played the gracious host, introducing the ambassador to his Circle as well as other officials in the town the Haltans could speak with if Kaliel was absent. After Three Certain Truths and his entourage left, Zanka noted that the snakeman had not seemed at all surprised to learn that there were four Solars in the city. They assumed that this information had been obtained by the Bull of the North, who was rumored to have access to powerful sorcery.
“If the Bull can find out that we are here,” Zanka observed, “then others can as well.”
Kaliel nodded. His own status as Anathema was no great secret; his Exaltation had been in full view of hundreds. Three factors had kept the Wyld Hunt away from Chrysanthemum’s gates so far: the city’s small size and relative isolation, the Realm’s own internal turmoil, and the greater threat presented by the Bull of the North. But while the Empire and the Immaculate Order might be able to ignore one Solar for a while, they could not ignore four.
“We should prepare to leave, then,” Kaliel stated. This news was received with glee by Ghost, who had long ago exhausted all of the diversions that the town offered, as well as those he had created for himself. Ayama was more reluctant, as there were still some recovering from the plague, but even she had to admit that they would recover just as well whether she was present or not.
“Where are we going?” Ghost asked.
“I would like to retrieve my sisters from the Tepet,” Kaliel said. Though he spoke little of the day of the betrayal that led to his Exaltation, they all knew that at the same time that his former mercenary band had been ambushed, forces from House Tepet had sacked his former home, the city of Kryptos, and carried off Kaliel’s two younger sisters. Whether the two events were related or coincidental had never been proven. Since then, Tepet’s legions had been broken by the Bull of the North, and the remainder of their armies had formed into the Vermilion Legion.
“From what I have heard,” Ghost said, “the Vermilion Legion is currently in the westernmost part of the South – in other words, as far from this corner of Creation as you can get. But if your sisters were taken as slaves, then they have probably been sold.”
“Not necessarily,” Zanka said. “Things are dire for House Tepet. Their armies have been humiliated, and they are under political attack on the Blessed Isle. Right now they are likely trying to consolidate their assets and look for any allies they can find.”
“Are you suggesting that they might try to use Kaliel’s sisters as a bargaining chip?” Ghost frowned. “I can hardly see bargaining with an Anathema to be a good idea for any Great House of the Realm.”
“They may only intend to use them as leverage to influence his actions,” Zanka replied.
“Either way,” Ghost smiled, “our best bet to find these two women is to track the Legions. They most likely sailed from Cherak; we can go there and inquire, to see if his sisters were with them when they set off.”
Ayama stepped into the conversation. “Kaliel, I would remind you that we have still not investigated the source of the zombies that descended on your town, nor the plague that followed. Ghost had tracked them to a small shadowland, had he not?”
“That is correct,” Ghost said, “a week’s ride to the northwest. The shadowland itself is only three, perhaps four miles across.”
“I would feel better knowing that no more threats to my people can emerge from this place,” Kaliel agreed. “We should ride there first.” Zanka paled a bit at this news.
“Cherak should only be a month’s ride from there,” Ghost said.
After seeing to a few last details – including sending Sergeant Brusk and half of the Knights of the Golden Flower to Lagan – the four Chosen were ready to depart. Kaliel had the foresight to secure some fetishes from Three Certain Truths that would announce them as friendly to the icewalker tribes that were allied with Yurgen Kaneko, which would aid their travels in the North.
Days later, they found themselves at the boundary of the shadowland that Ghost had found. They could all feel the sickening pull of the tainted Essence within. Ghost glanced at the early afternoon sky.
“If we wish to know more, we will have to journey inside.”
“No.” said Zanka flatly. “This is a place where the underworld has been drawn to Creation by some horrific act. I have no wish to know more.”
“I agree with Ghost,” Kaliel said. “We must try to learn what has caused this shadowland to emerge in such a remote area, and if anything inside poses a threat.”
“Do we know how long this place has existed, Kaliel?” Ayama asked.
“I cannot be certain. My people do not come out this far.”
“If you are going,” Zanka said, “you must be back before the sun touches the horizon, or else you may not come back.”
“Then we shall make our investigation quick,” said Ghost irritably, irked by Zanka’s timidity.
“Zanka,” Kaliel said, “We could use your knowledge of the occult to aid us in finding what we seek and then leaving.”
“You could use my knowledge of the occult right now to not go in at all!” she snapped back.
Ayama maneuvered her horse so it stood next to the Eclipse’s steed, and reached out to touch Zanka’s shoulder. “Zanka, if we do not try to find out what kind of threat this place still might hold, and we leave Chrysanthemum…”
“You are going to make me go with you, aren’t you?” Zanka said.
“You are Chosen by the Unconquered Sun,” Ghost said. “You are not meant to avoid problems.”
Zanka turned to Kaliel. “You are aware that this will only delay your chance to find Kassandra and Kalliope? Perhaps forever?”
“I am aware of the risk. Rescuing my sisters is important, but making sure they have a home to return to is important as well.”
They began to turn their horses and maneuver toward the boundary of the shadowland. Ghost fell back slightly and offered a bottle to Zanka. “Liquid courage,” he told her.
Physically crossing into the shadowland was no great physical challenge. Mentally, however, they found themselves assailed by morose, troublesome thoughts that plagued them and distracted them. Most of them were able to dismiss such thoughts, but Kaliel found his mind consumed with worry for his sisters, envisioning all manner of terrible fates. Thus when the four Solars reached the center of the corrupted land, he barely noticed.
They were in a large, open area, which even after several weeks still showed signs that it had once been occupied by a large horde of the walking dead. They could tell that the zombies had entered the shadowland from the north, and gathered here for a time before setting out southeast toward Chrysanthemum. It was Ayama who noticed a single set of tracks that led off to the northwest.
“Look at these,” she said, pointing as everyone gathered. “They were made by someone carrying a great weight, yet his gait suggests he was not unduly burdened. I would presume that this person is quite strong.”
“It is obvious that the zombies who gathered here were not created here,” Ghost said. “Nor would I assume their presence was the catalyst for the shadowland to exist. It seems to have been a rallying point for a pack of zombies that were heading south, and then redirected southeast. It is possible that the heavy object this individual was carrying away was brought here by the zombies.”
They followed the tracks to the northwestern edge of the shadowland, where they vanished without a trace at the very edge of the boundary.
“It appears that our quarry has ventured somewhere beyond the veil,” Ayama said.
“Then we will have to wait here until after the sun sets to follow him,” Kaliel affirmed.
“No!” Zanka protested. “We could be trapped forever in the underworld!”
“Only if we were mortal,” Ayama pointed out. “As beings that can control Essence, we are tied to Creation, and can avoid being pulled into the underworld at night. Much the same as a being tied to the underworld can avoid entering Creation at a shadowland’s edge, even in the daylight. So there is no guarantee that whoever this is crossed over at night, since it would not be unreasonable to assume that this could be a necromancer.”
Frowning, Zanka reached into a saddlebag and pulled out one of the tomes from Kal Bax’s workshop. “Now that you say that, I recall Kal Bax mentioning this very thing. He also pointed out that Solars lose their connection to Creation while in the underworld, and are cut off from the Essence. We would be diminished there.”
“It is no worse than when I was mortal,” Kaliel growled. “The Unconquered Sun did not reach down from Heaven to Exalt me so that I would choose to turn tail and run.”
“Neither did he reach down and bestow a suit of armor and a blade upon me,” Zanka retorted. She was shaking visibly.
“Let us also consider what we know,” Ghost said, “or rather, what we do not know. All we have ascertained is that this individual is strong, he or she likely has some ability to control the Essence of the underworld, and may have some power over the dead. This trail is weeks old at best, and leads through unknown and hostile territory. The Unconquered Sun did not Exalt us to run from battle, I agree, but he also did not Exalt us to rush headlong into an unknown situation that will likely lead to our deaths.” Ghost swept his arm around to encompass the Shadowland behind them. “We know that there is nothing present in this place now that will pose a threat to us or to Chrysanthemum. We also know that whatever it was that this person was carrying into the underworld, it was not your sisters. They are to be found elsewhere.”
“The attack on Chrysanthemum may have been nothing more than a diversion,” Ayama observed. “Perhaps after delivering the object they brought from the north, they were simply sent southeast toward civilized lands on a whim, to sow chaos and destruction with no clear goal. It may have even been meant to alarm nearby settlements enough that they would remain bound close to home, rather than riding out and possibly stumbling upon whatever they were planning.”
“Then perhaps,” Kaliel said, his hand resting atop the handle of his axe, “I should have an outrider sent out to trail these zombies back to their source, so that we may know at their true origins.”
Satisfied with the plan, the four Exalts exited the shadowland, and soon Ayama had made a bargain with a crow to carry a short message back to Chrysanthemum, containing Kaliel’s orders. That done, they spend the remainder of the day putting miles between themselves and the shadowland, much to Zanka’s relief.
As they rode, Ayama came up alongside the Eclipse. “You did well back there,” she said, putting her arms around Zanka’s shoulder. “It is right to be unnerved in such surroundings.” She smiled at the petite young Exalt, reminded of nights when she comforted her own beloved Dakarai. She and Zanka would have been about the same age…
