Exalted Essence: To Kill a Primordial

[Sherwood]

Voice kneels down before the Dark Lady with her head bowed low. "I live to serve, Mistress. By your leave, I will prepare for departure." She waits for the Deliverer's permission to stand, then heads for her chambers where her armor is waiting. Quicky stripping out of her dress, she directs her servant to aid her in getting back into her armor.

 

[Random Word]

"These soldiers will not know our faces, so I imagine costumes will not be necessary," the Prince answered. "And provided the Servant has not blabbed to them too much about their intended destination, we should be able to bring them here without them catching onto the ruse. That said, you may need to reassure them they have nothing to fear from this place. Wishing no disrespect to our mistress, the aesthetics of the Underworld can often be disconcerting to those new to it."

"I can be so very reassuring," the Martyr replies with a mischievous smile. As they walk she steps aside to pass behind one of the great obsidian pillars lining the hall, and when she emerges her tattoos shine golden bright beneath her linen shift in the flickering light of the braziers, mandalas of golden light form around her feet, the bright sunburst of a Zenith shines upon her brow, her eyes once blood red now a burnt gold, and her hair has become a blonde braid pinned with orichalcum clasps.

"Costumes and a set. Reassuring. Think about it," she says lightly as she heads for the main gates.

 

[jaydude]

The Prince watched the Martyr of Light depart with a shake of his head, but at the same time, he couldn't help giving a little smile at her antics.

"I fear she's starting to grow on me," he muttered, before heading out to meet with the Merchant.

 

[Crocodile]

The Merchant was humming to himself, glad to be back after that latest bit of work. Tomb raiding had its amusing moments, especially when he managed to talk the local villagers into going in first to help him find the 'great treasure' that he was seeking. It was more than enough to set off the various traps and other surprises left by the ancient builders. He looked towards the grim fortress and feels an odd relief to know his journey was over. He hated to be an errand boy at times but the Deliverer gave him plenty of autonomy to pursue his hobby of stoking conflict and strife.

I wonder if the others are back as well. I suppose the Deliverer will be pleased to see her prize. I certainly enjoyed watching the locals fight over it until most of them were dead. You'd think they'd have been more suspicious of me after the traps...

 

[Random Word]

Sometimes inspiration strikes in the most prosaic of scenes. The dull-witted shuffle of terrified mortal slaves, the clatter of their chains, the cracking whip of the ghostly overseers. Barely worth a second glance, except... well, wouldn't it be amusing? Adame truly was a terrible influence. Consider it a dress rehearsal.

While the overseers are distracted, bowing their heads to watch the passage of the great and terrible Deathknight Prince of Bloodstained Sands, the Martyr slips unnoticed in amongst the slaves. She holds a finger up to the lips of a slave, then picks the lock on their manacles and drags them into shadow, their dull-eyed compatriots barely registering anything has happened. She plunges her fangs into their neck, drinking deep of their blood and taking their form before slipping back into their place amongst the chain gang.

Now for the fun part. As the overseers' malevolent attentions turn back to the slaves and the whip comes crashing down to resume the shuffling march, the Martyr lets out a blood-curdling scream of fury and pain and explodes with brilliant golden sunlight, the sunburst blinding upon her brow. She casts off her shackles as the overseers recoil in horror, the light of day penetrating where it has dared not tread for millenia. "Rise up! Fight for your lives!" She can see the kindling spark of the will to live reignite in their once terror-bound hearts, replaced in a heartbeat with searing fury, and as one they swarm the stunned overseers, strangling or restraining them with chains or tearing their ghostly flesh with bare hands. The Martyr snatches a keyring from one of their belts and tosses it down the line. "Free yourselves and follow me!" she exhorts them onwards and sprints towards the gates, the furious cries of ghosts and the screams of recaptured slaves hot on their heels.

"They're open!" she cries in delight and desperation upon seeing the gates. Her eyes alight on the arriving Merchant astride his horse and passing through the opening gates, the only living face she's seen. "Please! Help me! These people are mad, and I think they're dead!" she implores the Merchant, eyes wild with terror and a fierce determination fed by the rush of essence fever, "I was in my village, and then there was music in the woods, and then I woke up in darkness, and oh Gods, it was horrible," she sobs, coming up short before his horse. "Then this light, and I was free, but please, help me get out of here!" she implores.

 

[Sherwood]

Now that Voice is appropriately dressed for a fight, even if it is a fake one, she adjusts the way that Soulcutter is resting on her hip and strides out of her chambers with a purpose. Time to gather up the rest of her fellow Abyssals and go 'rescue' the prisoners from their captors.

Once she gets to the lower courtyard, Voice frowns. There is a lot of commotion going on, and it doesn't sound like the normal hustle and bustle of the citadel going about its daily business. Looking around, she tries to spot the source of the chaos.

Six successes

 

[Crocodile]

The Merchant of Death watched the sudden eruption of chaos and frowned in annoyance. He gripped his Rod of Sorcery and Souls like a riding crop, having pulled it from the leather hoop he let it dangle from when he wasn't walking about with it as his cane. His expression was impassive as he regards the woman pleading at him. The internal debate was whether or not to blast her with sorcery. Of all the Deliverer's agents, he was likely the least combat capable. He relied upon his wits, words and knowledge... when not creating devices and necrotech to achieve his goals.

"Hmmm, and where will you go when you get out?" He looks back slightly, knowing this place had little for people to survive upon. He hops off his horse, tilting his head as he reaches up with his free hand to adjust his brimmed hat thoughtfully, still regarding the slave. "What will you eat? Drink? Where will you shelter?"

All the while his gripped his cane, pondering still but also willing to delay, figuring the guards would do their part shortly.

 

[Psychie]

It does not take long for the guards to respond to the escape attempt with clubs and whips, subduing the few prisoners that dared to show some initiative when the keys were tossed their way. Two large guards come up behind the 'slave' taking to the Merchant and move to roughly grab her by the arms. One says, "My apologies, Noble Exalt. This one hadn't shown this much spirit before, so this outburst was unexpected. It won't happen again, I assure you."

Sherwood

Voice sees all of this going on, with what appears to be one of the slaves rushing over to the Merchant of Death and begging him for help as two guards grab her and start to haul her backwards away from your fellow Abyssal. At the moment, there is no sign of the Martyr or the Prince, but you expect them to arrive at any moment.

 

[Random Word]

As the guards step forward to accost her and the slaves closest to her, the Martyr turns the terrible force of a burning shard of divinity upon them with a baleful glare. "You'll never touch them again!" she commands, sending the guards scattering backwards as a handful of slaves cower in the aegis of the golden bonfire raging around her.

She looks at the Merchant, bewildered, "Eat? Anything! Why should I care?" With more bravado then now-shaken certainty she scowls, "Are you going to help or simply stand in the way?"

 

[Sherwood]

Voice narrows her eyes at the sight of the glowing nimbus of energy and instinctively reaches for the hilt of her blade. Moving forward slowly, she says, "You are strong to survive in these conditions, and you are brave to stand in the heart of my Mistresses' domain and not cower in fear. But I would counsel you to caution. There are few Exalted that can stand against the might of the Neverborn, so if you plan on fighting your way out, be prepared. I suggest you stand at ease and listen to what we have to say before you act rashly."

 

[Random Word]

The Martyr feels that intoxicating frisson of fear that never gets old as the Voice threatens her. The chill that runs down her spine like the icy hand of Oblivion reaching out to inform her this heartbeat may be her last. For real this time. She would never see the Daiklave coming. Her little game will have to end soon, one way or another. "I don't want to... to hurt anyone. Just let us go," she pleads. She doesn't have to fake the shakiness in her voice.

 

[Sherwood]

Voice keeps her hand off of her sword, knowing that if this woman decides to attack, she can have the daiklave in hand in a flash. She says, "Where will you go? How will you get there? It is dangerous in the Underworld for those not trained in its ways. If you were to stay, I am sure my Mistress would wish to speak with you. Perhaps you would be able to find some answers in her counsel. My Mistress is very wise, and she can be quite generous to those she is pleased with. Why don't you come with me, and we can get you an audience with her? I will grant you safe passage. You have my word on that."

 

[Crocodile]

"Or you can say no, run out into the Underworld, which you know nothing about, and watch all those people die of starvation. After they turn to cannibalism. They always do, its not very pretty. I imagine you'll be the last one standing after you kill and eat the second to last survivor. So spirited. Rather than having food and shelter within, you can have the pain and misery of a world not built for the living." The Merchant casually gripped the reins of his horse to pull it aside, his entourage following suit.

"There's the way out. I mean Voice will probably kill you before you get out. But even if you did get past her, there is nothing out there for you. The only freedom out there is the freedom to die. Here, you never know what might happen. I'd say take the offer." The Merchant toyed with his cane, admiring the crystal sphere atop it as if this really wasn't his concern, merely offering advice.

 

[Psychie]

As everyone is talking, more guards are quietly gathering, eyeing the encounter carefully, but not moving to interfere. They are waiting to see how the encounter plays out.

 

[Random Word]

The Martyr looks suitably dismayed and falls to her knees, head between her hands. Then she abruptly snaps her head up, serene and relaxed as the disguise peels away like flayed skin. "Oh, it's such a pleasure to have you back, Merchant." She gestures dismissively at the slaves for the benefit of the guards, "You can take them."

"We're off to liberate some poor innocents from the grips of a terrible Deathknight. Would you care to join us?"

 

[Crocodile]

The Merchant looks annoyed again as he lets the tip of his soulsteel cane rest on the ground, leaning on it lightly ass he regard the Martyr. He gestures as his entourage starts to move past them towards the fortress as he remains while drumming his gloved fingers atop the crystal sphere of his cane. He didn't seem very amused by the theatrics. He wasn't one for flashy displays unless it was unveiling a weapon or project. When it came to people, he was a backroom man, whispering into the ears of officials and pulling strings as he played games of intrigue.

"I see we've gotten bored while awaiting my arrival, Martyr?" He tilts his head some as his fingers still drum on his cane. "And what's this about a liberation?"

He looks to Voice as if begging for a more clear explanation.

 

[Sherwood]

Voice rolls her eyes in disbelief. "You and your silly games. One of these days, your choice of amusements will get you into trouble." Now that the 'Solar' has been revealed to be Martyr in disguise, she relaxes, saying to the Merchant, "We have a new objective, one that involves a bit of theater. We get to go and 'rescue' a pair of outlanders from one of the Toymakers' followers, where we will bring the grateful survivors to Shaddar Logoth. Apparently, they are a part of some kind of invasion of the South from somewhere outside of Creation, and our Mistress wants some answers as to their origin." She goes on to explain how a group of these outlanders had stumbled into the Underworld and were exposed to the Great Contagion and most of these people died as a result, with only the two enduring the effects of the dread disease. "It may be that these invaders are from a place that has not been exposed to the Contagion, and the Deliverer wants to know where they come from."

 

[jaydude]

With the Martyr having had her fun, the Prince chose that moment to emerge onto the scene.

"Merchant," he said to the other man, greeting him with a short bow of his head.

 

[Crocodile]

"Thank you, Voice. Good to see you, Prince. It seems I've arrived just in time for a curious little game of intrigue. How exciting." The Merchant finally smiles some at the prospect of a scheme in the works for the Deliverer. She was a worthwhile master and he wasn't one to not do his duty. The potential for this task was exciting as well. Humans untouched by the great contagion. That alone created an entire new venue of death and mayhem he could help sow.

"Thankfully I'm already in my travel clothes. My entourage will take the Deliverer her prize she sent me off for."

 

[Psychie]

"Thankfully I'm already in my travel clothes. My entourage will take the Deliverer her prize she sent me off for."

With that comment being said, the Merchant's fellow travelers nudge their horses forward with the chest that the Deliverer wanted recovered, intent on delivering it to her as ordered.

For the rest of you, you have your horses brought out to you, saddled and ready to ride. From the directions you have been given by the Dark Lady, the Servant and the mortals with him are going to be about an hour's ride away before you will run into them.

 

[jaydude]

For his part, the Prince was just glad to be getting on with the mission now that the Martyr's shenanigans were over. Still, if nothing else, she'd at least displayed a high aptitude for deception earlier. He made a mental note to try and learn the ability she'd used, preferably one that could disguise him as a Dragon-blooded.

 

[Sherwood]

As they ride, Voice will start a conversation to work out the details of what to do when they run into the party from the Toymaker. "I would say that any mundane guards are fair game to attack, but make sure that the Servant survives. A few clashes of blades to make it look good, but nothing permanently debilitating. Perhaps we can make use of Merchant's spells to get us away from the scene by leaving our horses a short distance away then teleporting to them with our future guests in tow. Or we can leave the animals behind and go straight to Shaddar Logoth. Unless you can bring them along. I don't know how much you can transport at once."

 

[Psychie]

jaydude Random Word Crocodile

Anyone care to add a comment to Voices' idea? How do you wish to go about the masquerade of your rescue?

 

[jaydude]

As they ride, Voice will start a conversation to work out the details of what to do when they run into the party from the Toymaker. "I would say that any mundane guards are fair game to attack, but make sure that the Servant survives. A few clashes of blades to make it look good, but nothing permanently debilitating. Perhaps we can make use of Merchant's spells to get us away from the scene by leaving our horses a short distance away then teleporting to them with our future guests in tow. Or we can leave the animals behind and go straight to Shaddar Logoth. Unless you can bring them along. I don't know how much you can transport at once."

"That works for me," the Prince replied.

 

[Crocodile]

"I can bring the horses with us. So we can take care of that after we deal with this deception. I'll rely upon those of you with more combat skill for that part. I'll happily deal with what I can to support this scheme." The Merchant nods a little as he travels along and listens to the planning.