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Fantasy Dreams of the Second Age

Tulos is on his way to the door before the reply even comes, like he thinks he's going to just throw it open with the power lost.


"For Sol's sake, there's a Lunar out there; let them in," he announces, over the tail end of the prank. The name Duncan slows him, though. Duncan was young, and not just for a Sidereal. His eyes narrow, and instead of trying to open the door, he withdraws to the side of it.


"Hsst, Fist Tyrant," he whispers, and makes a cutting motion across his throat. He's already shifted his weight onto his toes, and lowered his stance. So much for letting them in.


"If Duncan died, and Olivia isn't with this new guy, what's our guarantee he is who he claims? "
 
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Fist Tyrant


Shaking his head he vaguely grasps that they are speaking fire tongue or some derivative of it. Shame he didn't understand a lick of it, but maybe someone else here actually did. Hearing that Duncan had gone on to a new cycle didn't surprise him as much. Seeing the two of them marching off to hold the line, he had expected it would be the last time in that form. Pyter...an usual name that more fell than rolled off the tongue. One he would become accustomed to eventually should he truly be Duncan's new form.


Glancing at Tulos, he checks a snort at the stance before it can escape. Caution was one thing but an outright assault from the get go was overly cautious right now. "Incarnae's sake, is that how you want their first impression of you to be? Large, angry man with a cudgel in your face? If they want to fight us they'd need more numbers than what they have now, Tulos. Don't start anything until they do. Proof is something we'll determine after speaking to them."


At no hurry Tyrant moves to stand by his wife, now mixed with both amused interest and a certain level of wariness. Moving his view down to meet her his expression changes from near exasperation to one filled with a mischief he never quite outgrew. Cocking an eyebrow at her, he feigns the dignified voice used during deliberative meetings. "Shall we see what the new year has in store and greet our guests, Shining Exemplar? Unfortunately I have nothing to offer them, all the excellent wines were left at the Blessed Isle estates."
 
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Those keeping watch of the three in the outer room can see that they are making good progress in getting through the rubble outside the door. They should be done clearing the way in just a few minutes, and since this Pyter seems to be holding the key to the door, you are rapidly running out of time to make plans.


Soon enough, the heavy door is pulled open and the man walks in slowly, his hands held up and away from his sword. "Greetings, my friends. It has been a long time."
 
"If they ask you to play Free Strix, they don't want to hear it and they're just heckling you. The Meru Shuffle isn't a dance but a scam so watch out for that, and what does your teacher owe me from our last meeting? Provided that you are Duncan." Quipping helpfully, Tyrant gives what is meant to be a cheery grin but probably comes out as something considerably less benign given he's a 20+ foot tall lion man with a predator's aura. The m...Pytar...travelled with a lunar so he should be used to this sort of thing anyways. "And hello to you too. Exactly how long, as my resplendent personal assistant seems to be in my other set of clothes. Something tells me it's longer than what we expected. Several somethings."
 
Pyter looks up at the imposing figure of Fist Tyrant and once more offers up a bow. "According to this letter that she left for me, there is something here about someone owing her for a dinner at Valibars, but nothing of her owing anyone here anything, other than her apologies for not being here herself. As for the Meru Shuffle, I hadn't heard about that, so I thank you for the advice. And yes, you have been down here for a little bit longer than we had anticipated by a factor of ten. The reason is quite a long story, one that I can start to relate to you when we have the time. Let me introduce my traveling companions. This is Amara Reyas, one of the Chosen of the Sun. This somewhat more burly fellow is her Lunar companion Mor'du."


As the Sidereal speaks, the bear-man is standing protectively next to the lady archer and is obviously eyeing you, but is making no sudden moves as he shoulders his weapon. In badly accented Old Realm, he says, "Greet Elder. I am Mor'du, friend. This Sun Child is mine. She Amara." He looks as if he has just expressed the limit of his knowledge of the language.


The Solar slips her bow over her shoulder as she clasps her hands in front of her chest in some sort of a salute.
 
Solistrae bows her head slightly at Pytar, a somewhat thoughtful gaze on her as she watches him. As he clears at least Tyrant's question Solistrae shakes her head slightly and then bows to each as Pytar introduces both Sun and Moon, a bonded pair apparently. Still her thoughts fall on the time that had been missed. Not one hundred and fifty, but one thousand five hundred years. It was quite a daunting number. A series of years long missed. By now even if her children had survived the chaos of the Bronze's making their families would not know of her. She sighs dismayed and places a hand to her head.


"I'm afraid to wonder," Solistrae says gently if not slightly stunned, "One thousand five hundred years..."
 
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Rine gave a quick nod to Amara and Mor'du, that could be interpreted as rude. However Rine was on the hunt for information, so civility was taking a back seat, as it often did. Turning his full attention to Pyter, he asked one, simple question: "How?"
 
Pyter lets out a deep breath. "You ask such a simple question that has such a complex answer. Let me try and walk you through what happened. Much of what I am going to tell you has been passed on to me in the form of notes left behind by Duncan and Olivia, since I was Chosen to Exalt after you came here, obviously. Other bits of this comes to me from conversations I've had with my Sifu, and from a brief meeting with my Maiden." He shifts around until he is now sitting on one of the seats in the room. "Apparently, both my past Exaltation and my old Sifu were mislead by Jupiter Herself. Olivia had intended you to Sleep for only 150 or so years; instead the devices were set by our Maiden to hold you in stasis until now, nearly 1,500 years after you lay down. I have asked Jupiter why this ruse was made, and she says that Now is the time that Creation needs its heros to rise, and nothing more. She has made it clear that is all the info on this that I will be getting. Something is coming that is out of sight of the Loom of Fate, something large enough that my Maiden has taken direct steps to intervene in the plans that were being made."


He looks around at the six of you. "I do know that my past Exaltation and his Sifu both went to their deaths in an attempt to buy you enough time to get the machinery working to keep you safe. Duncan was kept alive for some time, before he was tried by a court of his peers for treason and was executed. Olivia was not taken alive, but she made sure she was noticed. Between the two of them, they took down three of the Sidereals that were on their way to kill you before they were taken down."
 
"A pity. A senior sidereal would have been an excellent guid in this new world, but I suppose you three will have to do." Rine said. He began to turn back to the console, only to realize what he had just said. Now that he had the information he sought, civility was making it's return. "Apologies, that was unworthy. By right of the great deeds you did to earn the blessing of Exaltation, you are more than welcome to stand among us."
 
Pyter looks as if he wants to be offended, but calms down when Rine offers his apology. "No need to worry about that. You have been thrown into the deep end with a school of hungry Siaka swimming about; it is entirely natural to be a bit cranky, especially for a bunch of old timers like you." He grins to show that there is no hard feelings meant with his friendly ribbing about your age. He sobers up a bit. "I must warn you, things are . . . quite a mess up there. Much has happened to plunge Creation into a dark age." For the next hour, Pyter gives you a brief rundown about the intervening years, going into some detail on the Wyld Hunt, the Great Contagion and the subsequent Fae Invasion, the rise of the Scarlet Empress and her disappearance, and finally, the shattering of the Jade Prison that released the Exalted Shards back into Creation once more.


During this time, Pyter's two companions are sitting around quite bored with the whole affair. Neither one speaks Old Realm very well, but after some experimentation, they try Forrestspeak and Riverspeak, hoping that someone would be able to understand them besides Pyter.
 
Fist Tyrant


When it becomes apparent that no immediate threat is coming, Tyrant returns to his human form without fanfare. Shaking his head at Pyter's words it seems that the same straight laced way of speaking had been passed on if nothing else. While Pyter relates his stories of the first age's fall and major events, the smile runs away from Tyrant's face replaced with a blank mask. Wordlessly listening, he nods slowly taking in the tragedies even as their full gravity does not sink in. When Pyter finishes, Tyrant simply shakes his head and breathes out while keeping down a sneer. Nothing quite like the last minute to awaken your ace in the hole, eh Jupiter? Were it not for the fact they were still alive he might have started holding a grudge. Even so, to take away that much of their time was aggravating. Barring scarcely known methods, even the exalted were not immune to death by old age. They had quite a good deal of time to make up for.


"While I appreciate your summation of events, you have been dancing around a crucial point for some time now. Pyter, where is your former teacher's exaltation? I find it strange for her to be absent while you are here with the key. When I saw her last she held the key with her, yet here you stand with it in hand. Despite Olivia dying in battle and Duncan being executed. Please share with us."


From the corner of his eye, the tell tale signs of boredom radiated from the younger duo. While Pyter caught his breath from his tale and gathered his thoughts, Tyrant threw the duo a bone. He too knew of the long conflict with boredom when sitting through deliberative meetings.


"Greetings to you as well, Mor'du and Amara Reyas. Thank you for your patience while we have been brought up to speed." Giving a slight nod to the duo, Tyrant responds smoothly in a flowing Riverspeak with a hint of westerner accent below the surface.


"While everyone would love to come to an understanding, Old Realm is the only tongue that most of us share. In it's time, it was the official language and this is the only other tongue I picked up since my second breath. I am-" Tyrant paused briefly, still loathing his overblown name, "-Fist Tyrant Scorching Radiant Horizons, Full Moon Caste. This lovely woman is my wife, Shining Exemplar of the Stars. The mocha bomb shell is Solistrae, the Ebon Scale Blade of the Waning Moon Caste. Our taciturn technician by the terminal is Rine of the Twilight Caste. Lastly the large and silent fellow is another Full Moon, Zanto Darro the Gossamer Titan. Zanto, Shining, and myself are the only ones who speak this tongue to the best of my knowledge. Allow me to put a question to the two of you. Why do you both accompany Duncan to this worn down ruins, and come adorned for war? I have heard that much of the world is more dangerous now, but Duncan has said naught of Rathess itself."
 
Amara and Mor'du trade a glance as Tyrant speaks to the two of them, then they look over at Pyter. He nods, "Speak freely. We are all allies here, and soon to be friends, I hope."


The young Dawn caste nods. "I owe Pyter my life. As I faced a barbarian horde attacking my village with a rickety bow in hand, I took my Second Breath as a Solar. What I didn't know is that my Exaltation was anticipated by the Wyld Hunt, and just before a band of Dragon Blooded came to kill me, Pyter here showed up and was able to spirit me away from my simple farm life and into the hands of the Cult of the Illuminated and safety. It was there that I was able to learn the truth of the Anathama scourge and the lies of the Dragon Bloods. When Pyter came to me and asked for my help, how could I say no? Especially with the horrors that have now taken over this old ruin of a city, I don't know if he would have been able to survive on his own. Now, this cranky old bear and I met while at Kether Rock. We are not a bonded pair of Exalts, just good friends."


Mor'du nods in agreement. "I would not say that I am cranky, but I have learned that you are as stubborn as a mule, so I won't argue. Besides, someone has to keep her out of trouble until such time as we find the unlucky Exalt that is her Bondmate."


Amara makes a face at her friend, and he just laughs at her. Pyter takes over the conversation at this point. "After the Contagion wiped out most of Creation, dark things found their way into the city, and the ancient Dragon Kings are now ferrel beasts that roam the ruins instead of the once proud race that they used to be. Fae, the dead, and other evils now call this ruin home. When I was finally able to get to the Key, I knew that there would be many challenges that I would have to face before I could get to the stasis chamber, so I asked my friends for help, and here they are." When the subject of Olivia comes up, Pyter falls silent for a time, obviously disturbed. Then, finally, he answers.


"Her Exaltation has not been seen since the day that she fell to the blows of our 'fellow' members of the Sidereals. Even her ghost is missing, not seen either in the Underworld or in Creation. When I ask Jupiter about the loss of one of our own, all I get are cryptic answers that we have not seen the last of Olivia Deshan or her Exalted Shard, and that time will tell all. I have tried to scry for both her spirit and her Shard many times, but there is something blocking me from finding her. It feels like a ward, but much more powerful than anything short of Solar level Sorcery. Perhaps you will be able to find some answers where I cannot."
 
After having finally released himself from his stasis pod, Grifnir lethargically makes his way toward the voices. Attempting to channel his Essence through his armor and charms, he winces as his concentration slips before masking his presence. With his Daiklave unsheathed, Grifnir shakes his head vigorously trying to purge the sleepiness and blurriness from his eyes. His mind suddenly registers conversation as the Forest-Tongue and Riverspeak begin to sink in through the drowsiness. His eyes suddenly snap open, focused. "Oh man... I got wrecked by the stasis sleep...what... is going...?" Grifnir stopped as Pyter began to speak about the contagion, Grifnir sat sheathing his sword, rubbing at his eyes before eyeing the Lunar, The young Solar and Sidereal, noting the Starmetal. "Well... you three aren't Dragon-Blooded at least... Now that we're up, I assume there is some sort of plan ready now that we are awake?"
 
Solistrae listens attentively if not with a hint of dismay on her face especially at the description of Creation's state. For all the talk and bluster of the Bronze's members, she assumed they at least could keep Creation from crumbling into a dismal state. Really. It was quite the insult. Especially when Rathess itself is the home of the Fae, and other things. And the poor Dragon Kings....


Solistrae shakes back her long hair and places a hand on her hip as she nods to Grifnir, "I suspect the first order of business is tending to this city. We have no territory of our own likely after such a long time has passed. Purging the city of its Fae and whatever else would give us a seat of power to start from." She glances to the other Solars in the group.
 
"I know a few spells that will help with the reconstruction efforts. Some will take more time than others, but the results will be worth it."
 
Grifnir slammed his eyes shut for a moment his anima seeming like it wanted to burst wide open into a brilliant display before immediately snuffing itself out in a sizzle. Opening his eyes again as a pale gold color in his eyes faded back to blue, Grifnir breathed in deeply enjoying the prospect of a hunt. "I'm ready to go out and gather intel then. Time to see just what has started settling into these parts." Grifnir stood up and began scanning the surroundings wandering around pods for a moment before heading out into the woods taking it slow in case others wanted to follow.


Power Activations

All Encompassing Sorceror's Sight, Eye of the Unconquered Sun Both suppressed visually by Night Anima Power


In addition to Keen Sight Technique and Unsurpassed Sight Method in case he finds really weird goings on that could contest.


To conceal his presence once treading in potentially hostile territory Grifnir will use his armor to go invisible in addition to Easily Overlooked Presence Method.
 
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Shining was silent through their discussions. She knew from experience that people were more than willing to talk their lives away given the chance. More so when encouraged with a demure eagerness and a soft laugh. She didn’t smile, though. These conditions were beyond terrible and they’d need to leave ASAP.


Her hand slipped into Tyrant’s naturally, as she’d done thousands if not hundreds of thousands of times. Sometimes, even, for the sake of enjoying his company. Her thumb brushed across his palm softy, in such a way as to alert him to what she wanted. It moved, rubbing out the message she wanted to send her lover.


Not secure enough. Retreat is optimal.


Shining kept it short and in between squeezes. She was terrified of what was here and very much looked it. Exaltation or no, there was just some things a group of exalts couldn’t handle on their own. The solar princess glanced around at the others and bit her lip.


How to bring the others?


They seemed fairly eager to set up shop in what was effectively a giant death trap for them. She looked at her husband hopefully, waiting for him to hopefully give her an answer of how to take the others with them.
 
As Grifnir activates his various Charms, you get a read on the power level of your three guests for the first time. Amara is the weakest of them all at Essence three, Mor'du is Essence four, and Pyter is the highest at Essence six. After you do your fade from sight, you hear Amara murmur, "Oh, wow. I wish I could do that!" It helps to hammer home just how young and inexperienced this Solar Exalt is.


Out in the corridor, you come across a lovely smell of decay and rot. Whatever mechanisms that were in place to keep the stagnant water and air at bay has obviously stopped working. Every step is into ankle deep water, vermin are running about, and you feel as if you were walking through a sewer. It is quite disgusting.


The corridor that once housed the clockwork mechanisms and the other deadly traps that kept the curious at bay now shows piles of rotting bodies, many of which are not human, and you can see signs of massive combat that has taken place here. It is clear that the outer lock was not enough to keep everything at bay. At least the stasis chamber was never breached.


You can remember that you are six levels deep; how far ahead do you range in your scouting?
 
Grifnir smiles at Amara's display of youth and inexperience. "Perhaps Rine would be willing to create a duplicate of this armor for you if you ask him nicely." He replied from behind the veil of the cloaking device.


Out on the ranging, Grifnir attempts to restrain his patrol to a distance he can backtrack without a high risk of being lost, assuming the others aren't following. Judging from the glow off of Pyter and the reawakened circle this would probably be up to the entrance to the next level. without a partner more capable of navigating what seems to be a labyrinthine complex. Grifnir returns shortly after laying eyes on all paths to and from the pod station to give a status report.


Appearing visible again, Grifnir begins to trace his route on a ruined surface with his Daiklave. The blade seeming to sear his strokes into a sooty indentation. "No signs of life nearby, I checked the following areas, so no risk of discovery from these angles just yet... How are we on food stocks right now?"
 
Pyter points over towards one of the side chambers that connect off of the main room. "We anticipated the need to be able to feed an army. Food pellets, just add water and they provide a person with enough to eat for an entire day. So long as nothing has happened to the storeroom, it should still be good. Not very exciting, but it will sustain life."
 
Grifnir shuddered at the thought of living off of pellets for an extended length of time, "Well, ladies..." he looked over toward Sol, Shining, and Amara. "...gents..." he turned his gaze over Fist, Rine, Pyter, and Mor'Du. "I'd personally prefer heading up to the surface for some fresh air, water, and food. We've lingered in this stale ruin long enough. Let's go find out what else is out there and then decide whether or not this is where we make our foothold."
 
"Then let's get topside and get an assessment of the situation, then we can start making plans." Said Rine, moving forward.
 
Grifnir sheathed his weapon, looking toward his friends and the newcomers. Releasing commitment to his stealth magics entirely, he focused his attention back toward the surroundings, the Essence signatures of life forms, the trails and ripples they made through the soiled water and especially the dormant traps that once protected the stasis chamber. Processing all that he could of recent events and signs of life, Grifnir exhaled a deep breath, "Stay close, let's not split the group if we can help it. I'll make sure nothing gets the drop on us."
 
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"Haste makes waste, that one should be a common saying no matter where in creation you go." Shaking his head with a slight sigh, Tyrant shifts his gaze from the eager duo to Pyter. "Rather than you two, we have three exalts here who have already been that way. Pyter, what can you tell us of your descent to this sanctuary? I trust that you could find your way back to the top through whatever lurks in these tunnels should the need arise? Whatever additional knowledge you have of fallen Rathess will be required before we set out, not after. As most ecosystems, there should exist an order of power and territory."


Rocking back on his heels, Tyrant moved the hands to the back of his head. Moving his eyes to each person in the room, he follows with a calm tone absent of his former cheer and mirth. "More importantly, we must consider the state of this vault. In the event Rathess is not viable for immediate subjugation, we should be certain this vault remains inviolable. Then, we could return with an army if need be and reclaim our joint war cache. Either way I do not look forward to returning her and finding feral dragon kings or worse poking through what valuables we have here."
 
Grifnir scratches his head for a moment, "Maybe I'm just forgetful or bad at paying attention but... What kinda stuff did you have stored in here?" Grifnir's voice trailed as he finished his question, looking over some of his stuff almost regretful of not being able to operate openly enough for real wealth in his last century prior to stasis, then remembered his freedom to 'acquire assets' as needed. "Speaking of theft, looting, and what not... What're the odds there are any decent marks nearby? Surely there are more ruins with enough traps for there to be other caches available. Eh later...later." Grifnir mumbled, shaking his head vigorously banishing the distraction from his mind. "So... right securing our gear and intel, I saw plenty of corpses and essence lines saying some defenses are still operational at the least. As long as we clear the area out as we go and start work on maintenance we should be able to get this place on a firm lock down again. Alternatively, we can try and carry out the swag. I'll leave that decision to the people that actually have wealth."
 
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