Exalted: The Second Age

  • So many newbies lately! Here is a very important PSA about one of our most vital content policies! Read it even if you are an ancient member!
Skeletons began to collapse upon Leo, surrounding him and attacking from all sides. The still unarmed giant crouched as low as his frame would allow, his head darting from side to side trying to anticipate which one of the masses would be first to break to cease fire. Eventually a skeleton behind the Solar decided he would be the one to claim Leo's head, charging at him with it's low quality scimitar raised high above it's head. The rest of the rag-tag crew acted like dominoes, gaining the brass needed to confront the enormous warrior one by one. However, having fallen victim to the weight of peer pressure, they had all sealed their own fates.

Leo allowed the original skeleton to come very close before making his. It swung it's scimitar in a downward arc, but was met half way by Leo's massive mitten. The half dull blade thudded to a stop in his palm. The Solar's eyes lite up with a deeply unsettled glow as his gaze burned a hole through the bone skull of the skeleton. He swipe low at the right leg of his adversary, gripping it in his vice-like grip. He whipped the seemingly weightless corpse around, slamming it in to the next oncoming enemy and then the next and the next. One by one Leo crushed his opponents with the now either dead or unconscious fiend. Shattered bone and discarded weapon flew in all directions turning the scene into a chaotic whirlwind of blood and vinegar.

The Solar continued his assault until there was no more to come at him. Letting it drop back down to his hip, Leo eyed his former enemy and new found flail. He did not know if it still had any of it's unnatural life left in it and had little interest in the answer. Strighkar stomped one of his oversized feet on it's head obliterating it completely. He breathed deeply, drinking in the sweet aroma of a fresh battle, greatly enjoying the refreshing change of pace.
 
The swarm of skeletons proved to be quite short-lived.

With a twirl of each of Zabasaz's daiklaves, the weapons of the skeletons on either side of him were sundered and shattered into splinters of wood and chunks of metal, and Zabasaz redirected his momentum into a strike that eliminated both of the skeletons he had parried. This went on for no longer than a minute, undead fiends coming apart all around them in a variety of brutal ways that all, in some fashion of its own, demonstrated the futility of the skeletons' assault.

The two 'ghost bandits' didn't appear interested in staying long, since at this point it was clear there was little they could do but warn any comrades or superiors of the coming of these mighty warriors.

So, they turned tail and fled.

The Sixler's rock soared after one of them, only to phase right through the coward. Completely unharmed, it was not necessarily a failed attack - as a matter of fact, as clever as Twilights tend to be, it was possible the Sixler did this with the intent of finding out if these "ghost bandits" were truly so dead as they appeared, or if this were a mere parlor trick perpetrated by some rogue necromancer and his friend.

Given that the pebble went right through the ghosts, it was clear now that these weren't just bandits. They were ghosts. And it could all add up to the Twilight. Ghosts don't interact with the realm of the living or even typically leave their tombs, so it would be strikingly odd to find these ones leading a horde of undead minions - especially since necromancy probably required corporeal components that these ghosts could not access.

This left one to wonder, then... who could be behind this?

Unfortunately, answers could not be sought, as the ghosts seemingly disappeared from their visual spectrum, rejoining the night. Zabasaz watched their retreat with his blades plunged into his final two victims, and with a vicious lashing of both weapons, they were no more. He sheathed the daiklaves and turned to his comrades, assured they, too, were at least slightly sated.

Surrounded by a mound of broken bones, the caravan could only blink in wonder at what had taken place before their eyes.

"Well, that went swimmingly, now didn't it?"

Zabasaz gave an enthusiastic arm pump.
 
The Sixler looked around at the meager damage he had inflicted. 3 skeletons down, and he may have hurt the pride of one of the ghosts. But it was a ghost, at least, this was good to know. Sho looked around for another foe, but it seemed that his allies had taken care of them. Sho was crestfallen, he hadn't killed nearly as many as they. Oh well, he thought, after all, he wasn't the group's tank, anyway. The twilight ambled over to the empty bottle he had dropped in the excitement, and retrieved it, cursing its emptiness, before turning to his friends.

"Did I really drink all this? Shit. So, I trust you lot are uninjured, then? Them enemies were really undead, if'n you were wondering."

Sho pulled a glistening bud from a pouch in one of his many pockets, placing it expertly in the small hole at the head of his club, then put his mouth to the bigger hollow in the mace's handle, speaking in a muffled tone.

"Any o' you have a light? I'm more'n willin' to share my bounty.

The man grinned, mouth still in the bong-mace.
 
Leo watch with disappointment as the apparent leaders of this assault fled with their tails between their legs. It was probably for the better as it was unlikely they pose any more of a threat than their horde had, and Leo was not in the mood to be let down again. He turned his gaze towards the other two combatants to gauge their reactions to the fleeing enemies. As Leo suspected their were both as indifferent as he about the entire situation. What they had thought would be their chance to final breathe some life back into their fighting limbs, but alas they were only greeted by a half-assed rag tag group of lackys. The giant meandored his way over to Sho and Zabasaz just as the lazier of the two was packing his versatile weapon.

Without speaking a word Leo seized the oversized pipe while pulling a wooden match from his pocket. He swiped the match across his rough cheeks igniting the slow burning flame. Touching the flame to the bud he inhaled deeply and passed it back to it's owner along with the match. "Well that turned out to be a huge waste of time. What exactly do you think those two are thinking back in the hole they ran to?"
 
"Undead, huh. Where there's undead, there is almost always a necromancer. Sounds like the Anathema* is afoot."

Zabasaz resigned to this reality. Sure, the fight wasn't particularly challenging, but at least none of the mortals got in the way. All in all it was a solid victory, and he wasn't disappointing that the battle was such a 'waste' because the way he saw it, it was just a taste of things to come. Hopefully these particular things would pose a greater challenge.

Before partaking of Sixler's narcotic bounty, however, he chanced answering Leo's question.

"If they're thinking, it's whether or not they should tell whom-so-ever sent them to send somebody stronger."

---

The following morning, there was a reasonable uproar of uncertainty among the traders in the caravan.

The driver of the caravan had decided that, in light of the attack and possibilities of future assaults in escalation of the previous, it would be necessary to plot an alternate route through the desert. Heading on the main road would surely be expected and exceedingly dangerous, and he believed based on the charts and navigational instruments that he was, indeed, organizing a shorter and more effective route. In fact, it struck him and his peers as odd that the route he was plotting wasn't the official Guild-sanctioned path to Gem. It would save them at least a half-dozen days if they committed to it.

The reason this route wasn't particularly popular, though, became clear about seven miles into the trip. In the distance, there were stationary figures, obscured by the heat radiating off of the sands before them. Scouts reported that they weren't brigands nor markers - they were natural rocks littered around the dunes, roughly the size of a large man like Leo, almost all standing upright in the sand. They were sandstone, an unusual find in that sort of shape and location, causing one to wonder if they were placed there was naturally as they so confidently portrayed.

It became clearer from where they were sourced when two and a half hours before the sun was highest in the sky, they discovered a canyon very far below sea level was blocking their route to Gem. They'd have to go through the canyon. The canyon walls were made entirely of red sandstone, so the source of the other rocks was obviously from here - perhaps an explosion send chips of it all around the outlying sands?

In any case, there was no turning back and the caravaneers possessed much confidence in their Exalted protectors and the wealthy swordsman. Passing through the canyon was quite for the first twenty minutes, until the sounds of slow-walking hooves resonated down the path. Ahead the dark silhouette of a man mounted atop a horse became visible. As he drew nearer to the caravan, his pace did not accelerate. The fear caused by his unprecedented presence caused the trip to, yet again, grind to a screeching halt.

As he drew nearer, it became a bit clearer what the man and his horse looked like. Garbed entirely in the trappings of death, the man wore a black gown covered in all manners of chains, skulls, barbs, and hooks. His face was veiled by a steel mask. His horse had a similar ensemble, with a black barding. The horse appeared black in the distance because it was covered entirely in black raiments, but up close one could see by the horse's legs and face that it was completely white.

The caravan master and his enforcers met with the man before he drew too close.

"Halt. This is a Guild-sanctioned caravan to Gem, if you have business with us, you better inform us now."

The man looked down at the man from his horse with his eyes peering through the narrow slits of the mask. It was doubtful that the eyeholes were wide enough even to see out of. After the disheartening glare had been ten seconds consistent, though, the man raised a hand from his horse's reins to remove the mask and lower his hood.

The man was strikingly pale, with white hair shaven down to the scalp and soft, almost sincere features, although his visage possessed a rather impatient demeanor about it, incapable of properly emulating the softness even with the help of his baby-blue eyes. "I don't have time to talk with lap dogs. Bring me your three Exalted guards. I will only speak with them."

*Anathema is the term that Immaculate Monks use to describe the Fair Folk from the Wyld and the exiled Solar and Lunar Exalted, alike. In this context, Zabasaz is implying that some kind of Exalted is behind the undead, which is predictable considering people from The Realm often blame all mishaps and mischief in Creation on the exiled Exalted.
 
Leo had already grown tired of the restless, boring traveling of the caravan. He was a well traveled man of course, having explored much of Creation. However, he was a lonely nomad during those times and was used to traveling alone. This of course meant that he did not approve of the speed they moved at with their great numbers. However, he did enjoy the relaxation of riding in the back of a cart compared to horseback, but this luxury only amused him for a short time. Luckily for the giant Solar, things were about to heat up.

He could feel the caravan grinding to a halt. He was furious to find out that they were once again stopping. This time however, he would not simply idle in his cart and wait to begin moving again, this time he would take the initiative. The straining wooden of the cart groaned with relief as he dismounted it and traveled to the front of the caravan. Before he could reach the helm, however, his ears caught the sound of their blockade.

" "I don't have time to talk with lap dogs. Bring me your three Exalted guards. I will only speak with them."

Leo wasted no time commenting on the brash behavior of their visitor as he was first on the scene. "You have some nerve riding up to a caravan and barking out orders. If you know what dangers are hidden in these carts you are either suicidal or insane, now which is it?"
 
Sho emerged from a covered wagon, accompanied by a few plumes of thick, acrid smoke, coughing his guts out. He looked around with red eyes, before catching the dourly dressed man in his view. He stumbled onto the sandy ground before walking over to where the few men stood. As he walked, he called out to the men. "What's all this, then? There're Exalted about? Anathema hiding amongst our ranks!? Well, that's just unforgivable, I'll show-". On this note, Sho broke down into a coughing fit, bringing his hands to his knees and doubling over with the exertion of his spasming diaphragm.
 
The pale man's gaze shifted to Leo, and all at once it became seemingly reverent. The man bowed his head respectfully, changing his tone entirely.

"Ah, you must be one of them. I apologize deeply for my inexcusable tone. These deserts can bring out uncharacteristic attitudes if one travels within them too often."

He dismounted from the pale, armored steed. It must had been some kind of reliable familiar, for it didn't require any stabling - it simply stayed put, waiting for its master to return. The man stepped toward Leo and bowed again, showing his neck as a demonstration of respect and insubordination, since the neck is typically the weakest part of the body. His raiment jangled with unseen metal as he rose from his bow. Leo could see that this man was quite tall, almost as tall as he, making him the canyon where their chance meeting took place. The man may had been pale, but his lips were surprisingly full and rosy, and had the strange tendency of forcing people to stare at them as he spoke, rather than at his blue eyes where was generally customary.

Something about this man was... pleasant. He had this uncanny, addicting sensation. Sure, homosexuality in Creation is completely normal and accepted in society (so much so that strict heterosexuality is sometimes viewed as close-minded) but it was still strikingly odd for Leo, who was (likely) a strict hererosexual, to find this man strangely attractive. He might find himself double-taking, checking for feminine characteristics, but they weren't there.

"I am known as the Abominable Ruby-tongued Usurper is the Killing Asp. You may refer to me as Aruka. I come bearing a lucrative proposition for you and your two kin, having been swayed by your stunning performance the previous night with that ghastly undead horde. I was wondering if you and your trader subordinates would erect a tent so we may have some privacy and concealment from the sun, as my pale skin is very vulnerable in these southern deserts."

Zabasaz had approached the exchange at around this time, and for some reason he felt swayed to oblige. In fact, they all did - even Leo was somehow tantalized by the prospect of this man's terms. It was like an aroma had wafted into his nostrils so alluring that he had to follow it and discover its source at all costs, only it was not a scent, but Aruka's soft voice and mild accent, his attractively rolled r's and l's and t's, and how he made his short i's sound like long e's.

Immediately, he and some of the traders deployed a tent on the grounds, and within only a couple of minutes, Aruka was pleased by their willingness to participate, and lured them into the tent.

"Come, we have much to discuss," he said to the Exalted, including Sixler if he revealed himself or expressed enough interest in Aruka's offer for the pale man to assume it was him. He beckoned in a way that was near impossible to deny.
 
Leo could think of a thousand reasons not to break off their trail and give this newcomer his audience. He had a job to do, there was no time for such a visit, and they were still not out of the dangerous territory. After all they had been attacked only the night before, this one could be working with them as well. At yet, Leo was willing to play along as he started to see the other side of things.

They had been traveling for a great deal of time with no use of his talents at all. After all, if they didn't deal with this bandit problem now things could escalate. He decided to throw his vote out, " I'll give an you audience. But be warned, I don't trust you." Leo had been feeling very different since they had encountered him. He hadn't found anything to confirm his feelings, but he stayed warry nonetheless.
 
The Sixler stood behind but near the large Solar, listening to his curt words with a dreamy smile, lids half-shut and bloodshot. Obviously this man meant no harm, otherwise he wouldn't have called out the most obviously powerful people in the entire caravan to congregate with him away from the others. If he meant to attack, it would have been a better time to do it earlier, while the Exalts were scattered. He'd be able to take the merchants and crewman as hostages or something to hold as a valuable bargaining chip. But this man instead laid his cards on the table straight-up, in an earnest supplication. These thoughts wafted through Sho's mind, coming and going as fickle as the tides of his homeland. But then a heavy fog rolled in, obscuring that tiny window of clarity, putting out the candle that was The Sixler's salience. He sidled up to Leo, attempting to throw a dark arm around the Solar's massive shoulder. Loudly, oblivious to Aruka's current presence, his voice was almost yelling.

"I think we should trust this guy. He seems a bit off, like a sex-starved old seadog, to me... But he's friendly enough. And if you think about it... he could have... Oh shit, I just had it. I can't remember now, but trust me, it made sense in my head. So we should go along with this guy. Whaddaya say, man?"
 
Zabasaz didn't say anything, figuring he'd leave the talking to Leo. He wasn't at all a leader nor a staff member of this caravan. He was just a passenger who happened to have some special talents. Leo, he assumed, was the man to rely on, considering Sixler's narcotic-induced lack of clear thought and conveyence. He'd seen how Leo conducted himself in the preceding days and could vaguely remember watching him handle a thief back when the caravan was just getting in motion.

He stepped into the tent, large enough that they could all stand inside around a table set in the middle, like a commander's tent. He took a seat at the side of the table and waited for the negotiations to begin.

Aruka led them to the table, standing at the head of it where there wasn't a seat as though he were in charge of some presentation. Well, actually that was quite the situation.

"Gentlemen, I understand that the night prior you went under attack by some dreadful undead forces who were, as I have come to understand, interested in your caravan's contents."

He turned his attention to Leo. "You made an interesting comment. You implied something in the caravan led my actions to be deemed suicidal. I find that rather interesting, as I possess here..." and he plunged his hand into a fold of his robe, "A manifest, detailing the contents of the caravan entirely." He set the paper on the table, which depicted a variety of mundane details such as which cart carried what - mostly food and wares. Interestingly, the one cart driven by a guild enforcer was marked confidential.

"I come to you three because I am fully aware from your performance and appearances that you are all Exalted. Do not fear, nobody outside of this tent can even perceive that a transaction is taking place in here. Your secrets are concealed. It is a charm, you see."

As if by Aruka's allowance, the three Exalted suddenly became acutely aware that an aura of necrotic essence was radiating around them. "Atrocity Without Witness. Mortal eyes ignore what would otherwise madden them to witness. I ask that you maintain your best civility in this dealing, as at any moment I could drop this veil and betray your secrets, and I don't want to do you fine gentlemen any harm."

"Now then, on to business. This caravan is carrying valued goods to Gem, which due to the prior two caravans being ransacked is low on food and goods. At the moment it is suffering an economic decline and an apparent epidemic of nihilism. The Merchant Kings there are losing power over their people. A shame, isn't it? That such pain is the only way to shepherd the flock for their own good to the ultimate peace. And yet, your actions will bring them respite. Such respite would complicate their healing process. I cannot allow it, so I make you an offer."

He paused, letting the information sink in, before continuing.

"Here is the deal. You leave. Walk away. Let the caravan make its own way. If it succeeds, so be it. If it is ransacked, a sad but necessary loss. As for you, I will provide the three of you with horses. I will double what the Guild has paid you. And I will reimburse you, who I understand paid to take this trip," he said to Zabasaz. "I will even give you a bit extra for your trouble. Your horses will also be fitted with a surplus of rations in their saddlebags so that you may comfortable make the trip back to Gutan. I only ask that you leave this caravan and Gem alone. Leave them both to their fate, for the greater good. That... is what you seek to uphold, right? If so, then this is a fair deal for everyone involved, wouldn't you agree?"

He held his hands out as if inviting them to agree. A flicker of necrotic essence made him appear much more reasonable in this posture, though their minds were their own to make the choice.
 
The Sixler stumbled into the tent along with everyone else, plopping himself down in a chair, swaying slightly. He felt great, but somehow, uneasy. He had had a lot to smoke and drink, after all, this was quite a reasonable sensation to have. But this particular feeling was deeper, as if he was somehow, not entirely himself. As Aruka spoke, his words made a lot of sense, the man was quite the businessman. But still Sho felt... odd. And soon his unsettledness became founded. The man spoke of charms, and at once Sho felt his nerves turning to livewires as the corrupted, necrotic essence took hold of Sho's skin. It was as if his body were on fire, and then... a cracking sensation, the tinkling of glass, and then Sho's mind shattered. His body snapped upright in the chair, in an odd tic, before slumping back.

He was elsewhere. Flashes of memories, thousands of years old, splashed through his mind, and he was living them in fast forward, a small scene here, a second there, time all accelerated to a fever pitch and flowing through his mind like some crazy drug trip. He felt a second consciousness growing inside of him, voice weak at first, and then stronger, a tiny whisper increasing in volume. A link in his mind had been forged to the souls in the cycle of Creation that housed his Exaltation, that shard of divine power passing through the mortal life cycle, bestowing greatness or renown. He could feel his past minds, his past selves, and for a few moments, he convened with them, exchanging thousands of thoughts in the space of milliseconds in some labrynthine twisted corridor of his mind. He didn't understand fully what was happening, but new thoughts, memories, emotions, were suddenly his. They came from nowhere but settled in the recesses of his mind as if they had always been there.

Aaaand.... Sho was back in the now. His crazy outburst inside his skull was all but disguised, no one else would have seen anything other than that one odd little convulsion. He felt strangely lucid, but was at attention. He listened to the rest of Aruka's words. He was incensed. Some recently-attained sense of justice boiled up inside of the normally easy-going man, and his eyes smouldered with rage. This man wanted the caravan destroyed... no, all of Gem would be taken up in this... whatever it was. He was hiding something sinister, and deep, and this would need to be uncovered.

"And what fate have you created for Gem, and this caravan? What fate would we NOT be preventing if you should have your way, what fate are you trying to steer US towards? Because as great as this sounds, and, Aruka, it does sound great... Almost, enchantingly so... anyway, as great as this sounds, It also sounds wrong. None of this sits right with me and I'm a man who sticks with his gut. And it sounds like you just want to pay us off to look the other way while you cause who knows what mayhem here in the South! I won't stand for that, sir, no I will not!"
 
And then everyone was hit by the meteor.


THE END?​
 
You must log in or register to reply here.
Top Bottom
Back