• This section is for roleplays only.
    ALL interest checks/recruiting threads must go in the Recruit Here section.

    Please remember to credit artists when using works not your own.

Shadows of the Setting Sun (Main)

OOC
Here
Characters
Here
"There is no need for that," Zoya says as Afureru begins organizing her people to gather the bodies. She dismounts her horse and walks to the first of the impaled corpses, touches it, closes her eyes and with a prayer to the Unconquered Sun, lets the golden light of her animal leap from her hand to cover the mangled body and reduce it to ash.

Solemnly, she begins walking towards the next in line, and then the next.
 
The road to the shadowland was a trip the fox totem found insufferably dull, even if much of it he got to spend enjoying the relative weightlessness of his vulpine shape. Though the friction of days prior may have unsettled some, it was a relief to be on the other side of this episode so soon. Forging an understanding between the clergy of Whitewall and warriors of the north was never a feat done lightly. Yet, the implications of the conversation itself cast a haunting shadow in his thoughts. Plagues that corrupt gods and this new one that destroys mortals? Surely such wickedness required an unrepentant spirit of malice that one such as Zoya could not possess much less conceal for the length of this trip. Was this the same necromancer behind events further north here now?

***

The approach was sickening, forcing even the Fox-god to resume human shape. He cringed and coughed, repulsed by the foul scent wafting on the open-air long before much of the army suffered the weight of decay on their senses. Though the phantom fumes still savaged his own sense of smell, Toun channeled both focus and experience to soften the assault with the memories of carnage past to deceive his nose with the image of another moment. By the time he set eyes upon the defiled bodies, he'd made peace with what he expected to see, void of disappointment in such raw heartless sadism. He looked to Zoya, stepping forward to ignite the carcasses of the fallen while he sighed with relief.

His eyes turned to the ground and foliage as he raised an arm to signal a stop, a token effort to prevent too many spectators from surrounding the scene. "Hold. We should check for signs of the perpetrators before we disturb this place too much. Our priestess alone is of little consequence, but the trampling feet of a multitude is another matter."

[Full excellency to resist the smell, Stamina + Wits. I'm wanting to follow up by examining the area for signs of others who passed through or hopefully those that put on this grizzly display. 8 successes.]
 
Last edited:
Zoya, you move to each victim and release their souls from what is left of their mortal shells. The ashes billow into the wind and away, escaping their tormented fate. You know their souls have returned to the correct order of things. Someday, they will be reincarnated and the cycle will begin anew.

When you've completed your work, all that remains are stained stakes arranged on each side of the trail. That is, until you, alone, hear a voice in your head.

"Hello, Resplendent Sun," the voice says. It's has an even, soothing tone. Somewhere between male and female in pitch. "It is good to see one such as you here, in this dark place and dark time. Do not be alarmed. I, am Siruten, a local God whom you've just released from the stake. I mean—Aaaaah!" You feel a sudden throb in your mind and heart. Not quite painful. But, definitely noticeable.

Those of you—Toun—who examine the area find chaotic footprints, long drag marks where bodies were dragged—probably against their will, and blood soaked into the ground and snow. There is more, but it's difficult to find in the snow and blood.

Tyree, further down the hill, in the distance, you see a dark figure walking out of fell up the trail toward you all.


[Those who wish to find out more and piece together who or what did this, roll Perception + Investigation, difficulty 4.]
 
Last edited:
Makuro was glad to see that Zoya had cremated the corpses, but he still wasn't able to get the sight of them out of his mind. Doubting that he'd be much use to anyone right now, and seeing as they all appeared content to leave him be, he took to milling around the area, waiting for the others to decide to move on, or do something else.

[Not gonna roll. Besides my -2 penalty from the sight of the corpses, I really don't have a dice pool to be proud of here.]
Essence: 1
Personal Essence: 13/16
Peripheral Essence: 33/38

Committed Essence: 5 (Hundred Rings)

Willpower: 6
Join Battle: 7
Health Levels:
-0: [_]
-1: [_], [_]
-2: [_], [_], [_], [_], [_], [_]
-4: [_], [_], [_]
Resolve 4, Guile 4

Attacks
Hundred Rings (13 Withering, 10 Decisive, 14 Damage, Overwhelming 4)
Unarmed (14 Withering, 10 Decisive, 9 Damage, Overwhelming 1)

Actions
Rush: 7 dice
Disengage: 10 dice

Evasion 5, Parry 6
Soak/Hardness: 6/0 (Buff Jacket, +3 Soak)
 
Tyree calls out to her fellow Exalts with, "Heads up. We have company approaching."

Will try a Perception roll with an Excellency helping out. Only 3 successes
 
Aeliana, The Evervictor

As usual, paying little attention to the environment around her, Aeliana looks up as Tyree called out. Aeliana had been idly kicking snow atop the corpse ash left behind by Zoya’s incineration. The mingling of snow and ash left an interesting pattern and Aeliana was quite happy to focus on that than to think about the agony from the slow death of the impaled that still lingered in the air.

Now, with Tyree calling out, Aeliana had something to actually do.

“What was that?”

Aeliana glances this way and that. Unsure as to what Tyree was referencing.

(3 successes so that’s a fail)
 
As the disembodied voice speaking to her falls silent, Zoya opens her eyes to the immaterial and looks around for ther speaker - or what shut it up.

OOC: Per 3 + Inv 3 + Excellency 4 + stunt 2 => 5 sux.
Spending 3m for Spirit-Detecting Glance and 4m on an Investigation Excellency, both from Peripheral.
 
Zoya, you look past reality, but see no spirits or dematerialized ghosts. Just you and your companions. And the figure strolling up the trail. You're unsure where the voice could have come from.

Zoya, fueling your uncanny senses with Essence, you see more than the others in the snows surrounding the stakes In the ground. You see bone fragments from ritualistic stabbings, the drag marks and footprints take on a new shape where and how the victims were attacked, and the amount and placement of blood is from more than just these victims. Piecing it all together and from what you know having visited Marama’s Fell before, it’s clear to you now that a cannibal tribe tortured and killed the people that were on these stakes. Most likely a tribe from within the Fell itself. Esbilon Esbilon

By now, the person moving toward you all is close enough that you can make out her face. The woman approaching seems unarmed and raises both her hands as a sign of surrender. She wears the furs and face-paint of an Icewalker. Her lips are blood red. But, there is a coolness about her. Like she belongs in the ice and snow. Like she was cut from the cold. Her lithe body somehow conveys a power under the surface.

Áleifr.jpegAnd at one time, she was known as Áleifr.

She’s now close enough to speak to you all, but she keeps her distance.

“Ho, travelers,” she says with a wry smile. “I’m unarmed. I saw you on the trail and figured I’d introduce myself. See what you’re doing out here so close to the shadowland down there.” Sigrdrífa, the woman now known as Embrace of the Blackened Soul—formerly known as Áleifr—finally looks at you and says in an almost-believable tone, “Oh! Sigrdrífa! I had no idea you were with these travelers! It’s good to see you! And Toun too!” She starts moving toward you to give you a hug.

Random Word Random Word Rykon Rykon
 
Last edited:
Sigrdrífa marvels at Zoya reducing corpses to ash at a touch, and makes a mental note to stay far out of her reach when she's angry. So captivating is the spectacle she utterly fails to notice Áleifr's approach until her voice cuts through the din of soldiers milling, a tyrant lizard stomping, and the periodic *fwoosh* of bodies being reduced to ash in white hot flame. Immediately Sigrdrífa's head whips around and her eyes light up with a fire to rival those conjured by Zoya, enthusiastically returning the embrace. If Embrace of the Blackened Soul's surprise is feigned such is Sigrdrífa's own that it doesn't register. "Al-" she cuts herself off with a sigh at seeing Embrace's grimace, "Oh, fine. Em! I must be doing well for the Spirits to smile upon me so. If someone had told me travelling so far from home would be so much fun I would have done it years ago! The further I go, the more home comes with me. Toun was in Whitewall of all places! You know they have walls bigger than mountains? And enough people to make convocation look small." She relaxes her fierce embrace for a moment and leans back slightly, "But why are you so far from home? Don't your people need you? Do you want to come hunting with me?"
 
Makuro turned around at Tyree's words, wondering just who was approaching them. His eyebrows rose in an interested manner when the newly-arrived woman called out to Toun and Sigrdrífa before moving to embrace the pair, with the Night Caste happily reciprocating the gesture. Evidently there was some friendly history between all three of them.

Still, something felt off about the newcomer, and not just the fact that she was apparently able to handle herself in the wild without carrying weapons of any kind. There was something distinctly...unnatural about her, but Makuro couldn't for the life of him explain what. For the moment though, he opted to slowly approach her, letting Sigrdrífa enjoy the reunion and Toun join the two of them.

Essence: 1
Personal Essence: 13/16
Peripheral Essence: 33/38

Committed Essence: 5 (Hundred Rings)

Willpower: 6
Join Battle: 7
Health Levels:
-0: [_]
-1: [_], [_]
-2: [_], [_], [_], [_], [_], [_]
-4: [_], [_], [_]
Resolve 4, Guile 4

Attacks
Hundred Rings (13 Withering, 10 Decisive, 14 Damage, Overwhelming 4)
Unarmed (14 Withering, 10 Decisive, 9 Damage, Overwhelming 1)

Actions
Rush: 7 dice
Disengage: 10 dice

Evasion 5, Parry 6
Soak/Hardness: 6/0 (Buff Jacket, +3 Soak)
 
Through narrowed eyes, Tyree watches the newcomer. Despite her being known by the others, there is something that is striking her as . . . wrong . . . somehow. It is not a good feeling to have, and so while she does not stand in a threatening pose, the Lunar is ready to respond.

She looks over and asks, "What brings you here, out in the wilds? I hardly think that this is the best place for a reunion."
 
Afureru wasn't a fan of the shadow lands. And with every passing minute, her desire to wipe them from the face of creation grew exponentially. Sure Zoya could burn down body by body, but how many more rotted away in these lands? How many bodies would it be until the best action would be to cover the lands in cleansing fire?

But that was really neither here nor there. Afureru had really been expecting to feel nothing but hate. Anger, too. Like a great well of it that would make her want to go on a destructive rampage.

Funnily enough, that really wasn't what she felt. Ever since the gruesome welcome it was there. She was loathe to call it apprehension. She wasn't apprehensive about anything. That didn't stop the feeling. Like a firm stirring in her stomach.

The closer this stranger came, the more like a maelstrom the stirring became. Twisting and turning and spiraling into a deep abyssal pit.

To say the woman was striking was one way to put. Like Afureru was being slapped across the cheek. Not out of beauty or anything like that. Just that sinking feeling. Everything from the way she moved to the slow and deliberate way her chest rose and fell, as if each breath was choreographed. A pale skin that Afureru could almost garuntee would feel as cold as frosted marble.

Okay. That was all fine. Pretty girl, even. Could be crushed with ease if she was a threat.

But then why did her fingers tremble? Why when she gripped the reigns of her beast to stop it, that her grip became white knuckled? Why then did her heart thunder in her chest like a monster trying to break free of its cage? Why then did it take her a moment to catch her breath so she could speak?

This woman. She was wrong. And right. Incompatible and unintelligible feelings all warring like masters arguing over a student. To kill. To beckon. To flee.

That last thought took her out of he shock. A shock she hadn't realized she was in. With a shake of her head she forced the inner voices quiet, and gripped the her halberd to ease herself. Heating it up and swinging it wide as a gesture of warning.


"Not another step!" Afureru barked intimidatingly at this stranger. Whatever this woman was to Sigfrida, or any of the others. Everything was screaming that this was wrong. This was dangerous. Like a ringing in the ear so loud it could shatter glass. Toun, Sigrdrífa. They were in danger if they got close.

"Stay away from her, get back!" she shouted. No there was no threatening actions. No reason to feel this way. She could feel herself wanting to as well go in for greeting. But this was WRONG. She was... this woman was WRONG. And her own heart was going from booming to tightening to such extremes she was worried it might explode. It was all she could do to keep her breathing steady.


Light gleamed off the orichalcum of her halberd as she pointed it at the stranger. This, "Em". At Em. "You will stay back." she repeated. Making sure that it was clear that her demands would be enforced... violently.


Rykon Rykon Random Word Random Word WlfSamurai WlfSamurai
 
Sigrdrífa's shock quickly transmutes to anger as she glowers at Afureru without taking her hands off Em, "What the fuck, Afureru? I don't threaten your fr- Okay, so there was that one time with the goatherd, but he insulted Snow Leopard, and I guess there was that time with your quartermaster when he said I'd had enough, and I don't really think the priest counts, but the point is they all had it coming. If you're going to be all high and mighty just because you're on top of a tyrant lizard, I'll gladly knock you back down to earth."
 
Embrace of the Blackened Soul takes a step back from Sigrdrífa and Toun as Afureru attempts to break up their little reunion. She puts a hand on her hip and can’t help but smile her devilish smile.

”My, my,” she says sauntering away to put some distance between her and you all. “Temper, temper, little girl—“

Afureru, you’re flooded with somewhere else, someplace else, in a different time. It’s dark here. Bloody? Death. It is the pressing in of this place, constricting, that feels so right. There is pain and the sweet stench of blood. Your blood? You hear the same voice, echo, echo. “—Temper, temper, little girl. You don’t want to get in over your head now, DO YOU?” A blur. Someone’s in front of you, but your vision isn’t right. That voice—

Just as suddenly, your mind clears and you’re back with Sigrdrífa and the rest. “—You don’t want to get in over your now. The shadowland is right there. There’s some nasty things down there. Nasty. It’s not really safe, you know.“ Her smile widens. “And that’s why I walked up here. I wanted to warn whomever it was on the trail. Turned out to be you all.”

Tyree, you feel a hand slip around your upper arm. Haze is behind you. She speaks only loud enough for your to hear. “This isn’t right. Don’t take your eye off this girl. I wouldn’t be able to touch her if things got out of hand. I think only a few of you could.”
 
Temper! Temper! Woman hasn't even seen her--

And then it was as if all life just drained away. Cold inside. And slickness of warmth outside. All too familiar. All too comfortable. All too pleasant. Even the pain. It was strange, because it clearly should not have been. It nonetheless washed over her. She had heard these very words before. The memory being so vivid. She could see the darkness. Feel the agony and ecstasy. The smell so sweet could almost remember its taste on her tongue.

The memory fleeted away as quickly as it had invaded her thoughts. Leaving behind the same voice. The same words. The same tone. It should not be so resonant but it was.


It was a testament to her stunned silence that she didn't rise to Sigfrida's challenge. Of which she would have most certainly have risen too on a matter of principle. But at the moment, she was only just now remembering to breath. Even as the moment had passed, the coldness and emptiness lingered like a lovers touch.


The words were out of her mouth in response before she even had the chance to comprehend them. "I do." She said gravely to the woman. I do. That was always the answer. I always do. Wanting to get in over my head. To throw myself in so deep my only option is to swim. Or die. It was the only answer.


Finally collecting herself, she spoke to her counterpart. "Shes not your friend, Sigrdrífa. She's-" the words continuing her declaration that were just out of thought, but she didn't know what she was going to say. "I mean it Sig. This isn't a game. You need to get away from her."

Afureru straightened, bringing a leg up to get ready to move fast if she needed to.


The worst part of it all... Afureru really couldn't explain herself to Sigfrida. She didn't herself know. However much she wanted or would try to.. and she really wanted Sig to know. She was in danger.
 
The reaction of Afureru to the presence of 'Em' got a surprised look from Makuro. Evidently he wasn't the only one who felt wary around her, and Haze seemed to have similar sentiments, judging by how she approached Tyree and whispered something urgent-sounding into her ear.

He decided to make himself known to the new arrival, and see if he could get anything out of her. With Afureru continuing to act up, he shifted position so that he was stood between the two women, hoping that 'Em' would see it as an attempt on his part to discourage an attack on her.

"Please forgive my travelling companion for being a little on edge." he said to 'Em' in calm and polite Skytongue. "Our time within this region has not entirely been without danger, even before we came across this shadowland. I am Makuro, and you are...Em, is it?"

He observed her as he spoke, doubtful as she was that she had come here just to give them a friendly warning.

WlfSamurai WlfSamurai
[OOC: Going to do a Read Intentions on Embrace, to try and get some idea of what she's up to. Spending 2m Peripheral Excellence on Perception Excellency (I can't give myself more dice than I have points in the attribute), and claiming two dice from one-point stunt. I have a penalty of -2, so I have 7 dice to roll with. 5 successes.]

Essence: 1
Personal Essence: 13/16
Peripheral Essence: 31/38

Committed Essence: 5 (Hundred Rings)

Willpower: 6
Join Battle: 7
Health Levels:
-0: [_]
-1: [_], [_]
-2: [_], [_], [_], [_], [_], [_]
-4: [_], [_], [_]
Resolve 4, Guile 4

Attacks
Hundred Rings (13 Withering, 10 Decisive, 14 Damage, Overwhelming 4)
Unarmed (14 Withering, 10 Decisive, 9 Damage, Overwhelming 1)

Actions
Rush: 7 dice
Disengage: 10 dice

Evasion 5, Parry 6
Soak/Hardness: 6/0 (Buff Jacket, +3 Soak)
 
Last edited:
Hearing this, Tyree takes a step back and lowers her spear into an attack position. She says in a tone that will brook no argument, "Step back. I don't know who you are, but if you try to approach us any closer, I will consider it an attack, and will act accordingly. Who. Are. You?"
 
At Tyree's threat, Makuro sighed in a manner a Dynast would consider to be subtly theatrical - as if trying to convey that he considered it an overreaction on the Full Moon's part - and said to Em. "Please forgive my traveling companions for being a little on edge."

Essence: 1
Personal Essence: 13/16
Peripheral Essence: 31/38

Committed Essence: 5 (Hundred Rings)

Willpower: 6
Join Battle: 7
Health Levels:
-0: [_]
-1: [_], [_]
-2: [_], [_], [_], [_], [_], [_]
-4: [_], [_], [_]
Resolve 4, Guile 4

Attacks
Hundred Rings (13 Withering, 10 Decisive, 14 Damage, Overwhelming 4)
Unarmed (14 Withering, 10 Decisive, 9 Damage, Overwhelming 1)

Actions
Rush: 7 dice
Disengage: 10 dice

Evasion 5, Parry 6
Soak/Hardness: 6/0 (Buff Jacket, +3 Soak)
 
Sigrdrífa gives Makuro an appreciative nod. She gives Em a flat look, "The Fell isn't safe? You don't fucking say, A- Em. Next you're going to tell me ice is cold. If it were safe I wouldn't be going there." She crosses her arms and stands a little taller, "As for you two, you can both fuck right off. I've known Em since I was little, and you don't get to tell me who my friends are. I like you, 'Eru, but you're being really weird. Aeliana is crazy enough for all of us, I don't need you helping her."
 
Aeliana The Evervictor

Satisfied that this person was indeed real after having watched her introduction take place, Aeliana half walked, half ran on over to the gathered exalts.

“Excuse me Sigrdrífa, but if I’m being introduced to someone new, my full title should be used as not to lead anyone towards an incorrect first impression.”

Aeliana gives a little courtesy bow before taking up a heroic pose. “It’s Aeliana, The Evervictor. Or The Evervictor, Aeliana. I haven’t decided yet.”

Pausing to look at the group to judge the popular opinion of this eventful turn, Aeliana continues.

“Though now since you have been blessed with knowing my name and obviously the name of Sig here, we should all likely be granted the privledge of your name, epithets, titles and the like. Or we could go with the whole ‘who are you’ and waggle sharp things at you bit. Whichever is easier for everyone”
 
For most, the chilling sensation of a frigid shiver slithering up one's spine was common and familiar in the north. To Toun, hearing Aleifr's-- Embrace's voice invoked the borderline alien phenomenon. His ears caught the beguiling pitch, seemingly inverted as if silencing all distraction in its wake by some design or intent. Mere moments prior his attention was bound in the chains of intense sensory focus. Though the bonds lazily sloughed from his mind, the change was still jarring enough that the Foxgod doubted his senses during her brief approach.

He returned her smile and approached once understanding returned to him. "You... seem very different now than before." He caught himself speaking aloud. "I reckon I'm one to talk though." He visibly relaxed. The coat wrought of his own hair, his own fur, caught the stale breeze still failing to pierce the warmth between body and raiment. He turned to Sigrdrifa, somewhat curious that their friend's appearance seemed less a surprise to her. "Em? I thought you were past the rebellious phases of childhood already." He mocked sarcastically.

That was when he heard it. His ears twitched at the sound of knuckles popping quietly. At first, he thought it the sound of a twig breaking, but then it was followed by Afureru's call. He cast his glance up to her on her steed. Not our friend? How would she know? Aleifr's always been sort of like this. Though she seems to have lost a bit of color. He turned back to his old friend approaching. "Well, you do look like you've taken to cave-dwelling a bit. Addicted to an underground hot spring perhaps?" Again teasing her.

It was with Afureru's persistence that he inspected her intent more closely. She truly saw her as a threat. Aleifr? A threat? Never. Impossible. Yet there it was. Pain permeated her being. He drew out his vision, testing the area for the signs of spiritual activity. Nothing so far. That was expected to a degree. Weren't ghosts physical in the Fell? He pondered. His eyes took in all three of his companions. He recognized the faint light glowing from Afureru and Sigrdrifa. The longer he looked his head turned in puzzlement. There wasn't a glow for either of them by sight, he realized. Was it merely his expectation? He closed his eyes pondering just how his spiritual attunement even worked. Ah, I'm not a Sun that casts light like this. I am a moon. A full moon reflecting glory at its height. A mirror.

The warrior of the north drew in his breath in meditation on his own essence. Light of the spirit realm drew toward him and he could feel it flowing through him. The light of a glorious sky, a rising sun, and a resting sun. He exhaled and drew another breath as he opened his eyes and turned to Aleifr. He reached for his power, the vacuum of energy pulling toward his friend. What came back was grimy, dark and smelling of soil. Of death. Were he to focus on his nose he might not even discern death among death like this but there it was. Pressing against his spirit sure as his lover's light had.

He sighed, looking to everyone now on the verge of a stand-off. Well, something is wrong alright, but I'm not going to hear it at sword point like this. "Everyone settle down. Even if she was a danger, Sigi and I can handle ourselves. I appreciate the concern though, Afi I really do. Regardless, we're going to catch up one way or another. If anyone insists on spoiling a good reunion then I'll have to show you what the horizon feels like." He replied, statement punctuated with the crack of his knuckles. "Now get down here so we can start a fire and get something to eat."
 
Last edited:
Zoya looks at the newcomer with concern, but no hostility and approaches calmly. "I don't know who you are to provoke such diverse reactions," she says, "but why don't you tell us who you are and why Sigrdrifa keeps tripping over what to call you?"
 
Makuro, you watch Embrace carefully. Something about her eyes and movements tips you off to her real intentions. Drawing on Essence, you now can see all the micro changes and movements. [You beat her 3 Guile.]

It’s clear to you now that Embrace is gauging you all. Sizing you all up. She needs to know how useful you all can be to her. Or which ones are useful of the bunch of you. She hopes to walk away with that information.

Embrace smiles like a Blood-Ape bathing in gore. “Oh yes! Have no fear. Toun and Sigrdrífa will keep you safe.”

She turns to you, Aeliana. “I like you. You remind me of Sigrdrífa a bit.” She looks you up and down, like predator eyeing prey.

She refocuses on the group. “Now, don’t get all bent out of shape,” she says in her best assuring tone, attempting to keep the mocking out. “The pampered Princess here—“ she motions to you, Zoya, “—isn’t wrong. Most of you don’t know me. It’s only proper I introduce myself before you invite me to sit with you around your shi—uh—lovely fire. I’m Embrace of the Blackened Soul, former Champion of the Sabertooth tribe. I believe some of you have been set on edge by my ‘nature’. Maybe because it is the opposite of your own? A guess. Where you were had the sickening power of life breathed into you, I was bathed in the glorious cold embrace of Death and Oblivion. Toun and Sigrdrífa knew me as the girl I was before. With a different name. One that no longer has any meaning. That’s why she’s stumbling like a lame Mamoth in heat. Plus, Sigrdrífa has a thing for me.” Her dead eyes sparkle as she winks at you, Sigrdrífa. “But, enough talk of titles. Let’s sit like people, or something.”

A fire is built and places cleared for sitting. For those of you on edge, what Embrace has just said does little to ease your mind. Haze is visibly on alert. Her movements are stiff and her eyes always return to Embrace, never letting her back turn on the newcomer.

“So, why in all Creation are you here, anyway?” Embrace asks when you’re all seated—or at least near the fire. “You mentioned heading into the Fell, Sigrdrífa.”
 
Toun folded his arms with a hint of indignance at Aleifr's attitude. "You sound awfully smug for one wallowing the spirit of final defeat, Aleifr." He replied in open disdain of this facsimile of a name she'd taken up. Setting aside her name for a title like this somehow felt like a strike against her tribe, and by extension their whole way of life in the north. For what? Cuddling up to Death? Silly girl. "You're better than that."

The arctic warrior withdrew a waterskin hanging from a sash at his hip and took a drink, leveling a scrupulous gaze and serious demeanor at the void-claimed woman before him. "If you really must know, why... maggots wielding these pitiful death magicks have been meddling both in my domain and even near here. I don't suppose you or your friends are this 'Blackened One' are you? Embrace of the Blackened Soul?"
 
An Abyssal Exalt. That was the impression Makuro was getting from Embrace's words. He'd heard a little about them, but the Silver Pact's information was less than minuscule. The Solars might have recently returned to Creation, but at least they were known to have existed for millennia.

He then cocked an intrigued eyebrow at Toun's response. The Abyssal might have claimed to be an old friend of him and Sigrdrífa, but the Full Moon evidently wasn't too pleased with how she'd turned out. For the moment though, the Changing Moon remained silent and moved to stand near Toun, wanting to see if Embrace or the Night Caste reacted to what had just been said.

Essence: 1
Personal Essence: 13/16
Peripheral Essence: 31/38

Committed Essence: 5 (Hundred Rings)

Willpower: 6
Join Battle: 7
Health Levels:
-0: [_]
-1: [_], [_]
-2: [_], [_], [_], [_], [_], [_]
-4: [_], [_], [_]
Resolve 4, Guile 4

Attacks
Hundred Rings (13 Withering, 10 Decisive, 14 Damage, Overwhelming 4)
Unarmed (14 Withering, 10 Decisive, 9 Damage, Overwhelming 1)

Actions
Rush: 7 dice
Disengage: 10 dice

Evasion 5, Parry 6
Soak/Hardness: 6/0 (Buff Jacket, +3 Soak)
 

Users who are viewing this thread

Back
Top