Exalted Essence: To Kill a Primordial

[Random Word]

"Voice, you speak Oblivion's wisdom, but in reverse," chides the Martyr without venom, sitting seiza, eyes closed. "The problem is we know nothing of their homeland, and precisely because we know nothing of their homeland we cannot simply present the gifts as tokens and wait for the inevitable end of all things. You of all of us ought know an active hand is essential to hastening the inevitable. These treasures are part of the final, or perhaps penultimate, step in a plan that has not yet been written. You would not deploy a siege weapon against an untested fortification in a surprise attack on an unknown foe. You would tip your hand, reveal much of your capabilities, and potentially win nothing. Precisely because we know nothing of their homeland, we must infiltrate it, patient as the grave and quieter than moonshadow. Do not have such little faith in the Prince. Our Lady Chose him for challenges just such as this. For each wound a weapon."

 

[Eonivar]

Adame, standing slightly behind the Martyr, had been silent up to this point, listening and following the plotting and mechanations.
His voice filling the area much like his bird form's cry, his force of presence seemed to fill the whole chamber.

"We complicate this plot too much. Our goal is to plant the devices in their world. We have no guarantee that if we should give the devices to them as gifts that they will take them back. We do not have much information on them. We need to know where and by what means they are entering Creation. We do not even know if their world has the same rules as Creation where such devices and such a means to spread a disease would even work. Granted not all other worlds are like Wylde, but they all have their own rules. It seems based on their story their world is overpopulated and low on resources, thus why they have made great effort to come here, there is a chance on this alone that they may not even want to return to their home world. So our first priority should be for us to find a way to get to this world so we may experience this place for ourselves, learn their rules, and make sure our devices and plans would work as intended."

 

[Sherwood]

"Then it would seem that the next course of action is to reunite our guests with their people and extend to them our friendship." Voice doesn't seem upset by the comments of her fellow Exalted; she understands that they all have their own insights that will come in very useful in getting this task accomplished.

"Once we have made contact with the invaders, we can then try to get an invitation to see their home cities as a way to learn more about them and see if our poison pill gifts will be well received and taken into the heart of their homeland."

 

[Psychie]

The young Necromancer speaks up, "Then our path is laid out ahead of us. We should make our way to Creation and make contact with the invading force with the two survivors to bring them back to their people. From that point, we can work to gain an invitation to see the land of their origin, and learn as much as we can from them in the meantime. We should prepare to leave as soon as possible."

 

[Psychie]

With plans in motion, it takes another two days for your two guests to be well enough to travel. Your group has a small escort of twenty five cavalry, and the teenage Necromancer is tasked to join your party to represent the Twisted Toymaker and his interests. She is moody and not much of a conversationalist.

Both Kiley-4 and Aaron-26 are inexperienced at riding, so things are a bit slow as they try to get used to being in the saddle.

It takes some time, but eventually you cross over once more into Creation. At the pace you are currently traveling, it will take you two days to reach territory that is under control of the Autochthonian force's

The sergeant in charge of the soldiers with you approaches Voice and asks, "Noble Exalt, would you permit me to send forth scouts to investigate our path ahead? We don't know what we are getting into, and forewarned is better than being caught by surprise."

What are the rest of you doing at this time?

 

[jaydude]

For most of the trip so far, the Prince - with his aptitude for noticing things while avoiding notice himself - had ridden ahead and served as the unofficial scout for the group, keeping them alerted to potential dangers upon their route. For the moment though, he was riding alongside the Dusk Caste. The Deliverer had told him once before that service to her didn't require him to distance himself from his fellow Abyssals.

 

[Crocodile]

The Merchant is currently spending a great deal of time talking with their guests. He wants to cheerfully extract every detail about their culture and people before they meet the invasion force. He goes so far as to playing word games with them to seemingly entertain them and teach them Creation terms while actually using it to develop a deep understanding of Autochthonian speech patterns, slang and cadence for their version of Old Realm. If he is to be the serpent in the halls of power as he loves to play, he must know the ways of the people.

It was also a fine way to make the pair trust him more. Martyr had them likely wrapped around her finger, but the Merchant wanted to just be in their orbit. To be known and so that they might vouch for him and his services as a healer. Medicine was one of his favorite ways to become known. Such acts would make the Abyssal shard scream, if not for the true purpose of such antics. The sheer amount of death he could spin once situated deeper into a society was worth tolerating healed souls. Many of those souls would be claimed by the greater chaos one could spin.

 

[Eonivar]

The giant brown and red eagle form of Adame soared high above the caravan. The Lunar kept a watchful eye over them all, circling about on the lookout for danger in any form from land and sky. He followed along above the Prince as the Abyssal was scouting ahead.

Adame had no desire to get to know these strange humans from the world beyond, in his mind they were a means to a goal and had no other significance to him. He knew the others were better adept at guiding these two and that he best served as a scout, a spy, and brute force if need be.

 

[Sherwood]

Voice looks to the man and nods. "A wise thought. Use the utmost of caution; we don't want to run afoul of the Autochthonian force. Go select your scouts and have them report in at regular intervals."

 

[Random Word]

There are times for subtlety, for hiding one's strength, for skulking in the night. Meeting a new militaristic nation state for the first time is not one of them. Strength respects strength. Kiley-4 and Aaron-26 need not learn of saddle sores, riding only for the air and novelty and the conversation of the Merchant, for war ghosts can carry a palanquin of magnificent size tirelessly and endlessly even in the inhospitable wastes of Creation. Arrayed around them are hundreds of monks and supplicants leading wagons with supplies and gifts, armour shining in the pitiless sun, banners fluttering in the breeze.

The Martyr sits seiza in perfect darkness inside one such palanquin, a fortress to ward off the baleful light of day, and meditates upon the seeds of darkness planted slowly, delicately in their guests hearts, gently watered and tended over weeks with cloying venomous words, comforting lies stripped away with a tongue sharp as the Merchant's scalpel, leaving them searching wildly for new truths to grasp tightly onto. She could hardly be so inhospitable as to fail to provide the refreshing drought of wisdom to guests with parched and bleeding lips, lost in this wasteland of Creation bereft of meaning and purpose.

 

[Psychie]

A pair of riders head off at the command of the sergeant at a gallop, and it is less than an hour before they can be seen coming back. Pulling their horses up a short distance away, the two scouts report, "We spotted two different armed groups ahead, one is a Autochthonian column, and the second is flying the banner of a mercenary company that frequently hires itself to various lords here in the south, under the command of a Dragon Blood Outcast . They are in a position to ambush the approaching Autochthonian force with superior numbers on their side, and unless I miss my bet, the mercenaries will take the field in victory, even with the war machines that the outlanders have. But if the Autochthonian force is alerted to the ambush, they will fare much better. Your orders, Noble Exalt?"

 

[Random Word]

From the depths of her meditation some part of the Martyr's mind notes the motion of her palanquin has ceased, and her consciousness rises to investigate. She descends and mounts up with the assistance of her servants, riding forward in time to catch the last of the report.

"Do not inform them. The performance is more compelling if we arrive after pitched battle is joined, when the Autochthonians are yielding to desperation and despair. Make ready the column for battle, and coordinate with the scouts to have our van cross the ridge only once things look dire. Lather the living mounts. We must appear to have been riding hard from the moment we learned of such vile banditry."