Sagas of Wayward Suns - Arc 1

[Excession]

Radiant Shine

Disgust veiled and curiosity tempered, Shine sidles over to the fellow in the ravaged hat.
"Does the body yet repose nearby? I would examine it."

 

[Sideris]

@Excession

Plume Hat squints at you through the rain. "We could ask the old man. He mentioned putting it on ice or some such..." The rain pounds harder from roiling sky.

 

[Sideris]

@Hair

Tapping into what learning and memory you have of old scrolls and manuscripts...demonic sounds right, but maybe not. It may be outside those categories as its demeanor is odd, even for Hell's own.

Its clearly fixated on light, sources thereof. Closest you can come is the name—Mul is an ancient, dead term for celestial bodies "which coveted the skies like false comets, like false suns, like carrion eaters roaming beneath Luna's blind spots."

 

[Hair]

Resonant Hammer's Descent

"The hold of this thing is... tenuous. It won't be able to put up much resistance. That fire it cast likely spent most of its power." Hammer begins to pull River away from the palanquin.

"Red, Iskandr, leave the palanquin intact, if you would. It's a fascinating piece of machinery."

 

[Chaka]

Gentle River

River grins like a madman at the putrescent being as he's dragged away, all pretence of haughty civility abandoned. "Let's see you begin with this you rot-smelling fuck! See you in your next life!"

He's laughing in a slightly worrying fashion as he's dragged clear.

 

[FuzzMonster]

Iskandr

The arrow now nocked and drawn, First Snow uncoils like a startled cat. Glancing to Red, and nodding to Ferat, Iskandr looses an arrow perfectly in line with the bed of the palanquin, to catch the thing's ribs and carry it out of the conveyance.

Big man Hammer wants the palanquin intact, no reason to deny him.

The wicked arc of the arrow carries the thing towards Red, Iskandr trusting her to respond...appropriately.

 

[Ragoza]

Red Snow

Red winks at Iskandr before she finally unleashes the Wolf's fury, sprinting into the arrow's path. She shrieks wordlessly as she rushes forward, point neatly skewering the entity's body through the lower back before shifting her centre of mass, spinning, launching the eldritch bastard into the air. Foul smelling ichor sprays as the body flies from her blade towards Ferat. Wolf's Hunger howls at the taste of blood, finally, raising it's voice to join Red's own.

"KREEE-YAAAAA!"

 

[Sarky]

Ferat:

Teamwork? I can do teamwork.

Golden Essence crackling about his form, Ferat burst into a sprint, eyes never leaving the creature, gauging distance, height. In one smooth movement he leapt from road to crate to market tent roof, to a windowsill on the second floor, pushing off again before gravity recovered from the shock. Meeting Mul Hyades' ruined form in mid air, Ferat brought a massive, jade-plated fist around and down in a blurring golden arc, punching with all the force of a thunderclap, all the burning light of the noonday sun. The righteousness of Heaven was in his strike, searing at the darkness of the monster, and his opponent shot back down to ground like a falling star, cracking the cobbles and packed dirt around him in a circle resembling the caste mark now blazing on his forehead.

He landed heavily, and as he stood, his ignited soul flaring around him, it was as if a golden bear reared up to reach the rooftops, markings of the Unconquered Sun on its fur, howling in victory towards the heavens.



[Lightning Speed, Heaven Thunder Hammer, and Zenith ability against creatures of darkness, just to make sure. Ferat don't fuck with no gribblies.]

Book-keeping

all that cost 22m, 1wp. Ferat has only 8m left in his personal pool.

 

[Sideris]

@Ragoza @Chaka @Hair @FuzzMonster @Excession @Sarky

The sky shudders red.

The storm stops. As if someone pushed the stopper of a Nexus gas lamp.

Steam rises up from around the caste-mark-crater, the creature dazedly staring skyward. "Eheheh... Such lights as y-yourselves carry still the fire..." The oft-ignored star is burning through the clouds like a brand. "Big things, small beginnings, big things, small beginnings, big things--" In an endless chant. A great teeth-sucking hiss fills the air as the rain blooms into humid fog.

Red light.envelops the city in forge glow.

And above, oh above...A great roiling sphere of fire piles away into the sky, braces it, and strange flaring hoops of red-gold light reach into the infinite. It, for this brief moment, has replaced what was once Sky and Sun and Moon and Stars. There is no end to its fire.

Such lights, says a booming voice with no more trace of child's titter, as yourselves composed of the utmost spirit, indubitable thews. Revisiting this ground has enlightened. Despite the breaking of my shell, my will is loose as it hasn't been in eons. You are not your forebears. It pulses, too bright to look at. There are no shadows for you to hide, no rocks to crawl under. This setback is patience. The Devil Stars are nothing but a tempered patience. A nearly inaudible laughter fills your ears. Grinds like chattering teeth.

We have come before. And I will come again. All will be seen.

There is nothing remotely human about this, but each of you can sense it staring directly into your souls.

And then someone pushes the button again, and its gone. The thunderheads and pouring rain return. So loud. The city remains, untouched.

The constables sit nearby atop unsteady horses looking at you and this strange, sudden fog with fear. "What the hell happened?" Plume Hat shouts above the din. "You vanquished the governor and all stared up into the sky like children seeing a kite! What-what the hell is this fog?"

 

[Chaka]

Gentle River

"Shut up. Please just stop talking." River stares stares transfixed directly up into the downpour, silently praying the rain would wash away knowledge.

We have come before. And I will come again.

You are not your forebears.

All will be seen.

A thousand thousand realities screaming themselves to death unfurling in River's battered consciousness.

Almost inaudibly, he whispers defiance at the storm.

"We've come before too. And we're waiting for you."

 

[Sarky]

Ferat:

Ferat stood staring up at the rain for a moment, possibly defiant, maybe pondering those words. Who knew?

In the end, he shrugged, shouldered his pack, and strode to the nearest guard, still lighting up the square as if the clouds and rain didn't exist.

"I'll need somewhere indoors for the night. Where's the nearest inn or hotel or whatever? Dog friendly." He sized up Shalla against the weedy pets and strays he'd seen about town.

"Extremely dog friendly."

 

[Hair]

Resonant Hammer's Descent

As Resonant Hammer looks up at the glowing star he wavers, and, suddenly, he is elsewhere, elsewhen.

Her hammer swings down on the chisel, scoring the final line in the sigil before her. She steps back and surveys her handiwork. The orichalcum skin of the Warstrider is covered in complex incantations. Incantations of nullification, of banishment, of protection from flame. She raises his hand, blowing out the dust of soulsteel clenched within, and it flows into the arcane syllables, streams of the dust following from the barrel behind her. She allows her gaze to shift past the machine of war before her, and it settles on the reason for the 'Strider. A great being of flame, black as Elsewhere, red as Mars Herself, the baleful green of the deep seas to the West. Between it's hands a fireball, slowly growing, though still too fast for Khan-Chaktla. The city was almost completely covered by the fire now, and once it was the fire would fall, and Khan-Chaktla would be no more. This was the fourth city Mul Hydras had devastated and, if her Circle had anything to say about it, the last.
She hears a soft footfall behind her, she turns as the pilot steps towards his charge. She gathers her Dawn brother in a tight hug. "It is too late for Khan-Chaktla, brother. I know you had hoped to save the city, but at least we can stop it here. Not kill it, but something almost as final." She steps back, clasps the warrior's shoulder. "Die well, my friend."
He does not reply, instead stepping towards the Warstrider. Just before he enters the mechanical beast he turns. "I'm not going to die," he quips, "have the tea on when I get back." And he's gone, but with a parting smirk that reminds him of Red.

Resonant Hammer looks at Plume Hat, his eyes dead, his face a rictus of fear. He takes a deep breath, steadying himself before replying to the panicked constable. "Your 'Governor' was anything but human. That was a true enemy of Creation. That is the reason we exist."

He blinks, and shakes his head a little. A large hand reaches up to a craggy face, as some animation returns to his features. "As for the fog, when we freed you from the being's tyranny what essence was left in its form dissipated, turning the rain into mist. Don't worry about it."

Resonant Hammer steps up beside the palanquin again and begins examining it, his giant hand impossibly gentle and dexterous as the crawl over the automaton. "Ferat," he begins, slightly distractedly, "there should be space at the guest house I keep a room at. I can show you the way once I figure out how to get this thing moving."

 

[Ragoza]

Red Snow

I think I've finally found a worthy foe. Come back any time, bastard.

She idly wipes Wolf's Hunger's blade clean as she turns to Plume Hat.

"I need your boys to do a sweep of the town, make sure no-one was injured. Looks like the town needs a new chieftan as well, Officer.... never got your name. Any suggestions?"

 

[FuzzMonster]

Iskandr

Ah. Excellent. Well, let us be fair; this thing was never going to be our friend.

Iskandr ponders for a moment. Clearly, the Anathema of a former age did not finish something off properly.

He glances over to his fellow vile demons of the stolen sun, and speaks up.

"I didn't think much of the governor's taxation policy anyway. Bit tight fisted on itinerant merchants. Did someone say lodgings and perhaps more beer?"

 

[Sideris]

@Ragoza @Hair @Sarky @FuzzMonster

"We will have to have a moot soon. This time a bit saner than the last." Plume blinks past the rain, at the palanquin. "Seemed to have a key on his...*its* body* for that thing. If you like," he says to Hammer, "I can put in word with your boarder and get rooms for the lot of you. What little we can do."

@Ragoza

He sighs, looking far older than he is. "My name is Wenceslas. The walls are in fine order, the Islanders made sure of that. The ancestors will be taking their watch soon."

@Excession

"Should I take you to see Koblyz in the morning?" Plume keeps a calming hand on his shying horse. "To see the remains?"

@Chaka

The limp remains of its avatar sit in the crater left by Ferat. One eye staring at the sky, the other shattered in a jellied mess.

 

[FuzzMonster]

Iskandr

What trace of mirth could be seen behind Iskandr's scarf fades.

"I too would like to see the body of the Immaculate, if I may."

 

[Hair]

Resonant Hammer's Descent

Resonant Hammer strides over to the crater left by the avatar, passing River, and crouches by the small thing's remains. He reaches down to search the body, before recoiling as the flesh he touches putrefies. Within seconds all that is left of Mul Hyades' corporeal form is some foul smelling liquid, quickly being diluted by the rain, and the filthy rags it wore. There, glittering, a rod of silver metal. He delicately reaches in with two fingers and plucks it from its carrion nest, quickly wiping it off on the hem of his shirt, before holding it up in front of his eyes, attempting to decipher how this thing could make the palanquin move.

 

[Excession]

Radiant Shine

"To see the body come morning is quite alright," he says, glancing at the crater where Hammer digs through deliquescent flesh. "The immediate threat controlled, I should appreciate rest."

 

[Ragoza]

Red Snow

"The Ancestors will be proud tonight. A room for the night would be greatly appreciated."

 

[Sideris]

The night passes under soothing prattle of rain on slate roofs.

Morning breaks, gutters rapidly drying, the hard coin of Sun in the sky promising an early hint of summer. The sky is clear of any cloud whatsoever. The Star remains, but only glowing fitfully, as if waking.

Plume Hat calls on the lot of you after breakfast. A haggard-looking but lively old man is with him, polishing an old and cloudy monocle. "Old Koblyz, at your service," he announces, far more exuberant than he looks.

"We're ready to take you to see the remains." Plume says, looking like he hasn't slept.

@Hair

On a minor note, the palanquin perked up like an ambitious colt when you approached with the key. For now its politely removed itself from the middle of the square to a holding of your choosing. The stables down the lane, perhaps.