Exalted (Series 2)

[Nigawatts]

"If they are too squeamish to help, then you tell them when Yugash reaps the benefits they will not share with those who were too cowardly to help!" Kerok slammed his chart onto the table, his emotions getting the better of him despite being surrounded by his subordinates. The populats did their best to ignore the outburst, but they were all a little on edge. The fact that for the first time in any of their lives, they stood on ground that wasn't the steel floor of a Metropolis, breathed air that wasn't filtered and recycled, and they had to deal with the frozen water that floated from the sky and piled like ash all over the base camp, was enough to make even the most stalwart citizen lose their serenity.

"Sova is still bitter about the war, they'll come around once they see how much Yugash has gained from this venture." Yevel, Celebrant of Ot, said with complete conviction. As always his calming voice put others at ease, and everyone in the area, except Kerok seemed to relax visibly. Kerok, who always saw Yevel as a rival, wanted to bite back with a scathing retort, but held back. The populat's should not see him lose his temper, it would only weaken his position. Instead he simply nodded and began to look over the other messages he got that day. A few reports from the scouts said they had found what they believed to be a settlement a few miles away from the Gate. After having to contend with a group of savages a week before, Kerok was uncertain whether or not he should allow a team to investigate. Their research told them that this world was mostly full of soulless creatures that attempted to pass as men. When he investigated the remains of the savages who had attacked his border guards, he was certain that research was correct. The people of this world seemed to run around in the hides of animals, the large creature they had found with them looked like a giant rat with an overgrown nose. It has taken a several hits from a Siege Crossbow to bring it down. The savages, while injuring a single Militant, were quickly cut down by crossbow fire. It had been a quick victory, but one that made Korak worried. If all the creatures on this world were as hostile, they would be in for fights much like this. In order to survive, he would need more firepower.

Almost as if an answer to his question, the Gate situation in the middle of the base camp lit up with reality warping energy. Purple and green lightning filled the air as the Gate activated. It was in the shape of face, covered in metal, and Korak was assured symmetrically perfect. Constructed of all the five magical metals, it wore a crown made of Orichalcum, it's skin was Moonsilver, and it's eyes Starmetal with prismatic Jade pupils. It's mouth, which now opened, was dark and ominous. It was made of Soulsteel and not even the light of the electricity could penetrate it's gloom. As the lightning picked up intensity, a lout crack of power filled the base camp with ozone, and out came a large retinue of soldiers. Their black armor and weapons contrasted greatly with the bright silver skin of the man leading them out of the Gate. In the light of the glowing orb that filled this world's ceiling, he seemed to shine like a beacon. Korak rubbed the back of his head in exasperation as he realized who it was who had exited the world of Autocthonia and joined their camp in Creation.

"Excessively Righteous Blossom, we were not expecting your arrival for another week." Korak greeted, not hiding his irritation at the situation. Project Razor had been his child, no Champion, Machine God, and certainly not Autocthon had the gumption to open the Gate. The fact that he was supposed to return to Yugash and hand over command of this expedition to Excessively Righteous Blossom of all Champions, burned him to no end. Thank goodness Yavel was staying to keep everything productive, as much as it pained him to think that.

"Duty always helps things progress smoother. General Gortch agreed to let me out of service early so that I could arrive at my new Command earlier than expected." In truth Gortch couldn't get rid of the wayward Champion faster, and Righteous Blossom had been eager to be given command of something, ANYTHING again.

"You are to return to Yugash, where I hear you will be getting a good promotion. Thank you for all your assistance. I will now bring the glory of the Machine God to this heathen world."

PART ONE
Crusaders of the Machine God

[Nigawatts]

The drums of war filled the desolate plains of Marama's Fell. Ever since he had returned to the accursed Shadowland Blackbeard, Grinning Savage of the Frozen Hallow, had been forced to listen to the war drums of Thrice-Dread Achiba. The ghost of the First Age abomination was the most powerful warlord in Marama's Fell, and those drums signified his dominance over the territory. There were several dozen tribes and gangs that called the Shadowland their home however, and thus Thrice-Dread Achiba was powerful, but not untouchable. Some of the smaller gangs had joined forces to fight against his powerful tribe. Meticulous Owl had told the upstart gangs how Thrice-Dread Achiba was all talk and wasn't strong enough to take all of them on if they combined forces. It was a terrible lie, one that was easier to swallow thanks to Owl's convincing story, enhanced by his Charms. The purpose of this ruse was simply to give Blackbeard some leg room when his forces entered Marama's Fell. With the backdrop of a gang war he was able to easily take possession of the losers holdings, get his War Ghosts entrenched, and begin the next phase of his plan.

"We seem to have some guests at the front door master." Came a quiet voice from behind him. Blackbeard turned away from the small totem shrine that made up the back wall of his new room, to see the diminutive form of Ratfink. A ghostblooded offspring of an escaped slave and an unknown ghost, Ratfink had spent most of his life in Marama's Fell. Short in stature, he barely came up to Savage's stomach, he had skin as pale as snow, and silver colored hair. His sunken face made him look like a victim of some wasting sickness, and prevented him from being a proper spy for the Deathlords. Meticulous Owl had seen some promise however, and taken him as a spy for himself in the north. When Blackbeard had been given the task of heralding the Forsaken Lion's arrival, he had inherited the small Ghostblood.

"Let me guess. The owners of this hovel have returned home?" Blackbeard asked while retrieving his weapon from the wooden post it was imbedded into. Marching outside his room he walked into the courtyard that made up most of the small fortress they had claimed. It was by no means extravagant, with wooden walls and no major buildings besides the hut Blackbeard had taken as his room. The War Ghosts were hard at work utilizing the smelter and workstations to make superior battlements, but it would take days before this place was even defensible. Blackbeard had chosen it merely for it's high ground advantage, and because it was situated on the edge of the Shadowland itself.

He walked past a few of the War Ghosts working on the walls as he climbed up to the small makeshift rampart that stood above the only gate to the fortress. When he could see over the wall he saw about a dozen forms standing outside the gate wondering why it was locked. When Blackbeard had found the fortress, it was guarded by a measly 15 men. A mixture of ghosts, ghostblooded, and even a few mortals. His War Ghosts had cut through them like butter, and had quickly taken the fortress as their own in the span of a few hours. These men must have been the survivors from the ill-planned raid on Thrice-Dread Achiba.

"Who the hell are you?! What the fuck are you doing in our ho..." He couldn't finish his statement as the spinning blade of Blackbeard cut through his mid-section. The mortal was sliced cleanly in half, his upper bodies' arms held up in surprise as his lower body flew the other direction. Red King's Lament imbedded itself into the black rocky ground with a metallic shink. The small group of War Ghosts guarding the wall took this as a que and began to fire their arrows on the other gang members who scrambled after seeing their comrade get cut down. Blackbeard lifted his hand, and the blade he was famous for returned to his hand after pulling itself free from the ground. Unfortunately before he could throw it at another gang member, they were all dead thanks to War Ghost arrows.

"Tell the men to gather up the arrows, and I want the bodies posted on the edges of our territory as markers." The Deathknight commanded after jumping back down to the courtyard. Ratfink simply nodded and waved for the War Ghosts to open the gates.

*******

"So have I proven to you that I'm not a ghost wearing my skin yet?" Blackbeard asked behind a disarming smile. Centurion Raneka simply stared at him with her strange horizontal slitted eyes. Her frog like head had never been particularly expressive, but he had seen her smile enough times to know that she was not amused. The Water Elemental had come to Whitewall under strange circumstances, but had been a trusted Guardian and leader for many years now, even before Bei-Han had lived and died. Blackbeard tried to rekindle her memories of him by retelling his time spent in her squad. She had lead him into several forays against the undead and the fair folk, and he liked to believe that despite her chilling demeanor, that they could be considered friends.

"Bei-Han died a fool and a deserter. The creature that stands before me should know that the Syndic's have no need to negotiate with Marama's Fell. The Thousand Year Pact ensures that no force, however powerful, could march against Whitewall from the Shadowland." Her deep feminine voice was not altered by her alien features, a fact that always confused Bei-Han. However, the Deathknight standing in front of the gates didn't care about any of that, and when he realized playing nice wasn't going to get him in, he decided to change his tune.

"The Thousand Year Pact isn't going to protect them forever. They have less than 200 years before it breaks. Do you really think the dangers out there are going to disappear by the time your precious truce ends? I'd think the Syndics would be forward thinking enough to..."

"Enough." From the crack in the large main gate of Whitewall, a procession of priests, Guardians, and administrators emerged. At the head of this group, one of the three Syndics strode forth, his ice clear skin shined as the sunlight reflected from his silver skeleton. As he strode out most of the guardians who had followed Raneka out to greet the Abyssal broke ranks and made room. Raneka simply moved a step to the side, her animal eyes locked onto Blackbeards form, ready to attack. For his part, Blackbeard bowed in deference and knelt before one of the rulers of Whitewall. Before his final breath he had never really met one, only seeing them in the distance during one or two of the several yearly festivals.

"We know what you are and who you serve. We do not trust the sincerity of your proposal. However, we also have not reached consensus on if we should refuse you. To prove you can be trusted, we require a task be accomplished. Several children from the surrounding territory have been abducted by the Winter Folk. This behavior is odd, and we would like to know why."

"So you are sending me out to be killed by Raksha...terrific."

"Not exactly. We will send one of our most capable agents to accompany you. He will be the judge on whether or not you are to be trusted. If you succeed in your task, you will be given your audience with us, and may present your proposal."

"Looks like I have no choice, who will you be sending on the trip with me?"

[Arthera]

"I'm afraid to say that there will be a change to the agreement." the well-dressed man said, looking down at the robin resting on his finger, as the messenger servant left the room.

Words one does not wish to hear at the last moment of a negotiation. Anya was most displeased and showed it by gripping tighter with her small clawed feet and pecking the man's finger for good measure. The man, Cluggan, winced but did not try to shake off his guest from her chosen resting spot. Both parties were used to these sudden changes when dealing with Luranume, the Lord of Auspicious Surprises, although auspicious for who but the spirit remained to be seen. Anya still disliked the small additions, the special remarks or notes changed almost every time she came to negotiate something, anything, with Luna's representative, but had to admit they had flair and always turned out well. Cluggan merely wished he was not always the one negotiating those deals with potentially dangerous parties involved.

"Please forgive me, but I merely bring word from the Master. I am told that a recent occurrence has brought forth a task more suitable to your abilities for your end of the agreement. The Lord would not change the body of the contract, but is willing to add a small shipment of supplies as a footnote, for the inconvenience of last minute changes. Should you accept of course."

If robin's could frown, Anya would currently be doing it as she mulled the news over, ruffling her feathers as she did so. Considering what she knew of current affairs in this part of the world and coming up short of what this "better use of her abilities" might be, she had to ask.

"Out with it." Anya replied in perfectly clear Skytongue, despite being in a form that cannot possibly communicate in such a fashion.

Unperturbed, Cluggan having dealt with spirits and stranger-looking beings with even stranger abilities found that a talking robin was low on the scale of surprise, he nodded. He had also dealt with Anya before on occasion, and she always came in the guise of an animal which could always talk.

"The Fell seems to have sent an envoy." he said, already expecting to be interrupted, but the bird merely cocked it's head at this and so he continued. "A new face that proves insistent. The Syndics have given him a task to prove his worth. A guardian will be sent to make certain all is done properly, you would be sent to make sure the guardian does not get harmed, exchanged or tampered with..."

So far, Anya had not too much gripe against this new arrangement. From hunting undead straying from the Fell and Wyld barbarians in certain key locations for a few years to playing wetnurse for a guardian for a few days, she seemed to be on the winning side of the exchange. Anya would already have done such hunting on her own in any event, but made certain not to mention it at the bargaining table. Except...

"And what's this task that's been given to the envoy?" She eyed the negotiator, who seemed to turn slightly green at having to explain the task, instead of quickly going to signing and agreeing.

"The envoy must...meet with the Winter Folk and discover the whereabouts of some missing children..." he said without much enthusiasm, already flinching at the expectant pain.

Anya did not vent her contained frustration on the messenger, as much as she would like to normally. This changed the essence of the deal by more than a simple concession could cover. Where it was a rather one-sided battle over an extended period of time with little chance of harm in exchange for some spirit deals, it was now a much more threatening watchdog in Fae territory sort of arrangement. There had not been any headway into those lands for decades, the truce having made sure neither side poked into the others affairs or showed up unexpectedly. That the Syndics sent a stranger to check it all out made sense, but the Guardian was going to give the trick away and ruin the whole idea the second the Fae get a whiff of him. So sending a dead stranger, with a Guardian as watchdog and her as an oversight, was the best the Syndics could come up with? Old spirits must be getting very old, or confused, to think this was making sense.

"You know I won't agree to this, Fae are something completely different than mindless strays, and in their own lands on top. Luna's servant or no, I'm not going to play nice if he keeps this up. Double the terms. If I'm to consider giving my life for this, I want to make sure that the village has those pacts going in the event I'm really gone. Any newcomers get handled by the Syndics and don't change the end, send an emissary before the time's up to offer a renewal and re-negotiation." she was pretty demanding, but wasn't done yet. "Also...I keep the concession shipment offer, and anything I happen to get while I'm keeping an eye on the poor sap going with the dead one."

Cluggan looked at the bird, a mixture of befuddlement and worry etched on his aged features. The Syndics dealing with spirits was a natural thing, but double the terms... "A moment while I convey your... counter-offer." he said with a sigh. It took some time before he got his mental reply, whatever means he was using to contact the Syndics themselves or his own superiors took time, or everyone was busy.

"To be frank, I should have foreseen the outcome before asking, but it seems Master Luranume finds your proposition... a pleasant surprise. He agrees to your terms and will make the necessary arrangements. He extends his thanks and wishes for a meeting at some later time. Long overdue, if I may say so myself, all your previous dealings have been met with such...outcomes." Cluggan rolled his eyes and already preparing the paperwork to finalize the contract.

Anya left her perch and landed on the windowsill instead, gazing outside. She saw the commotion outside the city gates and somehow had a feeling that this was what triggered the sudden change in agreement. Right place at the right time, or so it seemed. Maybe this was another one of those "Auspicious Surprises"...

[Swordsavior]

You know exactly why they sent you, Vagrant.

Really? Because I'm a little fuzzy on the details, so why don't you enlighten me, demon in my head. The scheming warlock Vagrant of paradise growled, impatiantly arguing with the demon who brought him his 'gift'. This sounds more like the work of the Fiends, not a Malefactor, why am I being brought here to Whitewall to tear it apart?

Because you weren't sent to Whitewall to tear it apart, you fool! The sand demon barked back in his mind, its voice mimicking the sound sandpaper makes when it scratches along a surface. We were sent to win it over, to enlighten it with your silver tongue and winning personality.

And? I don't see why this still isn't the job for a Fiend.

Well, think about it, the Fiends are great liars, but they would have trouble telling you the honest truth even if they wanted to. This is something you, your good looks, and your silver tongue luckily lack. With your noble charisma, you should be able to win even such a place as Whitewall to our side instead of trying to lie to them and turn everyone against each other. This is something in my experience that you've been...adept with, up until the point we turn everyone into demons like us, of course. The demon chuckled slightly, the voice continuing to grate in the ears of the fallen noble. And, if there are those who oppose our righteous goals of increasing your powers to bring back the Primordials, there is the option that you and your swords always love.

Vagrant grinned maliciously as his hand fondled the grip of one of his blades, his golden eyes scanning the inner walls underneath a cowl. It was not very hard to get into the city walls, in fact it was almost too easy if not for his warlock powers. His essence had hidden by a charm of the scheming Ebon Dragon he learned for just such an occassion, anyone who passed him by would consider him not more than a normal human for now, he even changed his bright green hair into a much more subtle brown, perhaps later he would reveal himself and his essence, but right now it was much better to scheme and plot while under the guise of a simple mortal. He sat on a simple, wooden bench as he conversed with the demon in his mind, his gaze drifting from person to person with hopes that one of them might make an action, a movement, something that may assist him in beginning their mission here in Whitewall.

Well, if I was to incite loyalty... Vagrant pondered, scratching his chin as he imagined. I might try to expand my cult here...

And how do you propose we do that?

Well, even for you, that should be extremely obvious. Vagrant chimed in, hearing a growl from the demon got Vagrant to chuckle vocally this time. He always got a kick out of pestering Sands of Scorn, keeping the wispy sand demon in annoyance with him meant the demon never felt he was in control, such, it offered him fantastic advice and was always helpful, but Vagrant always wanted it to know who was in charge of what they do. We do something to incite their favor, of course. And as you and I have found out, the scum from the Wyld frequently are seen around the city.

Both Vagrant and Sands shuddered when they mentioned the wretched Fair Folk, beasts who opposed all of creation, monsters who came from chaos to destroy what had been created by divine powers of order and unity. He hated the fair folk with every fiber of his being, they were the ultimate representation of usurpers, intending to take creation from them.

All we have to do is slaughter a few of them, drive them back from Whitewall, and we may be able to start with some followers we can work with from there. He leaned back on his bench, laying his arms out on the backrest

Brilliant plan, my lord. The demon replied heartily, impressed buy unsurprised that Vagrant was able to think up such a stepping stone so quickly for the group, maybe the taking of Whitewall wouldn't be so covered in blood after all. Then again, Vagrant was no Slayer, it wasn't likely he was going to try and physically fight his way to power in the first place. But I don't recommend we do it alone...we're going to need some help if we are going after the Raksha...

Of course, we can call on our spies for starters. Vagrant began tapping a finger on the bench. But from what I've already heard from them...we may not be the only Chosen here...

[Informatix]

"That would be me."

A cool voice responded from the ranks of guards accompanying the Syndic. At first it was hard to make out who had spoken, but then a single man emerged from the group. His coal-black hair and deep red eyes stood out against his skin, which was pale even for a northerner. Upon seeing him, there was little doubt that the man standing opposed to Blackbeard was the archer otherwise known as Scarlet Snow.

Only a very select group of people would recall another person upon seeing this face, and even then, they might find it hard to believe. His expression was focused and concentrated, even as he catalogued the Abyssal in front of him, recognizing Blackbeard's face. A number of things had changed, but the identity was unmistakable. At the same time, he was estimating the distance between them, calculating speed and offensive power of an opponent. Part of it was pure habit, but mostly, it was intentional. Size up anyone who could pose a threat, and this man certainly could, serving one of Whitewall's sworn enemies.

He was in league with the undead. An abomination, a sin against life by himself, Blackbeard was certainly not one to be trusted. If there was such a thing as someone deserving of his ire - and Snow had killed for lesser transgressions - this man was it.

Yes. He was an enemy. A lot of questions demanded to be answered, but this was not the place for asking them - and not the time to indulge his imagination. The only thing that he knew for certain was his task here, and he would see to that before dealing with anything else.

Slowly, he stepped closer to the Lion's emissary, and stopped, still several yards away. A distance he could readily draw and fire from, if it needed to be. At least twice. From this distance, there was no doubt at all about his observations.

"Death hardly suits you, Bei-Han."

For a long minute, that should be the only thing he said to the familar man in front of him. The questions bubbled and roared at the back of his head. Slowly, he reached for the massive, orichalcum powerbow resting on his back. An artifact of times thought lost, unknown to many. And a superb instrument of death in the hands of a skilled wielder. Some called Snow the best archer in the north.

The tension on the open snowscape was almost exploding. Even Raneka seemed to twitch. As he held the bow firmly in is hand, Snow started walking again, almost brushing against Blackbeard on his way foward.

"We can talk on the way. Are you waiting for anyone else to catch up?"

[Nigawatts]

"Oh too bad Kyuji! I was hoping you were getting the hang of it when you knocked Sansa down. Looks like we have ourselves another victory for Sansa, boy does she really want that prize!" Nikolas Father Winter smiled from his viewing box as his servants surrounding the arena cheered wildly from their seats. The two children lay in the center of the arena, on top of a solid sheet of ice. The girl, who could be no more then 10 stood with her boot to Kyuji's chest. The boy was covered in bruises and cuts and was panting wildly as tears flowed freely from his eyes. "Ple...s...Do...nt" was all he could choke out through his uncontrollable crying. Sansa looked at him through her long blond hair, her cool blue eyes wild and uncaring.

She had been abducted almost a year ago, and the tournament had become easier and easier over that time. She didn't see Kyuji as a friend anymore, even though they had spent much of their lives playing together in the streets of Whitewall. Kyuji had been heartbroken when she had disappeared last winter. So much so that when his father had forbidden him from visiting the shrines outside Whitewall, he had ignored the warning. The sound of his lost friend echoed on the wind, and he followed it to his capture. He had been overjoyed when he found Sansa among the other children in the Hall of Naughty Kids. Even if she was quiet, and didn't seem happy to see him, he was still happy she was alive.

Father Winter chose them to fight that morning, and at first he had hoped she would refuse like he did. She didn't, coming at him with killing intent. His father had taught him how to fight and defend himself however, and he was able to block her wild attacks. He was even able to trip her up halfway through the fight, but he refused to take the killing blow. Sansa took advantage of his reluctance, and now she stood over him with a spear made of silvery ice pointed at his chest.

"I should have come up with this tournament years ago. What's the point of having a Naughty List if there isn't punishment for being on it, eh?" Nikolas asked as his fellow Lords in the viewing box with him. Apalapachia, the lead Courtier of Nikolas' court simply put on a placating smile and took a sip of her wine cup. She had seen Nikolas go through many stages since their group first got stranded in Creation. One century he was a terrible goblin who ate those who didn't ward their houses with a special plant every winter night. Another he is a noble toymaker who leaves presents hidden in the snow surrounding Whitewall at the end of Ascending Water.

Apalapachia

" I thought the toys naughty kids find turning into charcoal was the punishment? Besides, was Kyuji truly naughty Nikolas? He did try to spare Sansa's life after all."

"Ah, but he ignored his fathers wishes to leave the city during a dangerous time! Sounds pretty naughty to me. Sansa, you may kill him now!"

"SANSA PLEASE STO-!" He was cut short by the spear jamming into his lungs. Sansa worked the spear in a way to open the chest cavity, and as the blood splattered all over the ice floor, it began melt. Kyuji's body slowly sunk into the melted ice of the arena, until he was completely submerged. His facial expression one of agony and despair. Below Sansa, the blood began to disappear, and you could clearly see his entire body encased in the ice. Further away from her, in various spots around the arena, similar bodies were locked into the ice, in various gruesome poses.

From behind Nikolas, the form of another Raksha lord appeared through the crystal ice beads that marked the doorway to the balcony. His body was covered in animal furs, and sprouting from his forehead were large elk antlers. His eyes held a twinkle that seemed to capture the mornings sunlight like golden globes of Orichalcum. A mutation he had encouraged in his body to appeal to his Solar lover. "We have visitor's at the gates, no doubt seeking the children you have abducted Nikolas." His accent, heavily accented in Haslanti, was also designed to attract his admirer.

"Lios you dandy, don't tell me it's your boyfriend knocking again. I've had enough of watching you two flirt to last a life time!" Apalapachia said while seemingly giggling at the same time.

"Unfortunately me and Rune parted on less than gracious terms, no I fear Whitewall has sent a Guardian this time, and something else." Lios responded, his look far off look seemed to hold a twinge of regret, but no Raksha could ever really feel that emotion.

"Ah, the Deathlords are finally making their move on Marama's Fell." The two Raksha looked in surprise as Nikolas seemed to already know who was arriving. "How far are they away from the gates?"

"They should be arriving in a few hours, depending on if they attempt the front gates or not." Lios answered while moving to take his seat behind the two. The other Raksha in the box looked at him inquisitively but he didn't want to interrupt Nikolas, so didn't indulge them.

"Lets not be rude, we shall have a Banquet for our two ambassadors. For the first time in centuries the parties of the Thousand Year Pact shall sit together!" He said with such exuberant enthusiasm that his servants down in the arena thought he was baiting for a cheer and erupted in applause. Ignoring them and walking out of the viewers balcony, back into the main castle, he motioned for his fellow Lords to follow him. "Apalapachia why don't you go out and greet our guests. It's been so long since you've left the Homestead." He told her with an almost pleading tone, which caused her to raise an eyebrow. She hadn't left in a long time because he had forbidden it after her frequent attempts to ignore the Pact with Whitewall. The amount of men and women she had tempted to get herself into the city was staggering, and each time the Syndics were right there to stop it.

"I'm tempted, but why should I go out just to escort a Guardian and a ghost?"

Lios peaked up at that, and quickly warped in front of the two he had been following. The two didn't seem surprised, but were a little annoyed at his abruptness and interruption. However, they quickly lost that attitude when he told them the truth of the matter.

"They aren't mortals. They're Lawbringers."

[Swordsavior]

Vagrant had begun to traverse the city, his armor and weapons cleverly concealed by cloaks and coats, making it easy to pass as a normal mortal to humans and Essence-wielders alike, in an attempt to find a good place to start gathering real connections to unite the people of this city under him. However, that task was cut short by the large procession of Guardians, Priests, and Administrators, followed by someone who could not be more obviously a Chosen of the Unconquered sun, a powerbow of glittering orichalcum slung across his shoulder.

Ah, so it looks like the spies were absolutely correct. Vagrant mused to Sands of Scorn, a chuckle passing his lips. A Lawbringer is here in Whitewall.

You realize how bad that could be if he were to intervene, lawbringers have a way of mucking up any operation they come into contact with when it comes to Princes. The demon responded. What do you propose we do about him?

Hold that thought. Vagrant cut him off. He's going with a large group to the gates...what do you think he's doing?

The demon remained silent, which Vagrant took as a sign that both of them were on the same page now. The lawbringer was not here for them, as they hadn't done anything in whitewall yet, so what was he doing here? Vagrant shadowed the large group, remaining a safe distance away, drifting from crowd to crowd of the peasants and merchants along the way as they went to the gate, Vagrant searching his mind for what could be at the gate. He suspected the lawbringer was here for the Winter Folk, like him they were simply hated by almost anyone in Creation anyhow, no matter where they came from.

But what was at the gate surprised him, even though he was correct in where they were going. There was another aside from the lawbringer, someone just as notable as the powerbow wielding man. He reeked of the dead, however, the sword and armor of screaming souls, the way he carried himself, the morbid look about him, it could be no other beast other than one of the Neverborn's chosen, an Abyssal. Vagrant could not help but raise a brow from the gate as the Sun child and Dead child conversed, albeit bitterly, about exactly what he originally suspected, the slaughtering of the wretched Raskha. He could barely believe what he was seeing, an Abyssal and Solar working as a team? Vagrant couldn't help but be surprised by even the thought of what would be mortal enemies united under this one cause. His lips slowly stretched into a wicked grin as he tailed them away from the city, slowly following the pair towards the Raksha holds. He was out of their earshot, but from what he could see about them it was not like they were at all friends in this endeavor.

Erm...my lord.... Scorn eventually spoke up as they followed the Essence-wielders after the first few hours. I may be speaking out of turn for asking you this, but why are we following these two? In the best case scenario they will die fighting Raksha and we can go back and establish a foothold in Whitewall unopposed. Why are we doing this?

Impatiently, Vagrant snapped back. Well, you're in my head, it should be clear to you exactly what I'm planning. His eyes widened, the glare of potential insanity sliding across the surface.Yes, they could impede my progress...or be the greatest asset I could ever hope to obtain.

I'm not sure I follow, milord. The demon pondered. Whatever you are planning better be worth it, I would not take two Chosen lightly.

Oh, don't worry, I know what I'm doing...

With that, a vocal snicker left his lips, and his pursuit continued, he would have to act at the most opportune moment, slowly his plan coming into motion. Soon, he would make himself known to these Chosen, but not in a way anyone would expect.

As they finally arrived at the Raksha hold, he momentarily broke off from the group. Unlike the two ambassadors, he couldn't just simply walk in the front, so he would have to find a different way. Luckily Raksha always had many entrances to their homes, being creatures of the Wyld their homes were unpredictable, but in that sense made them easily accessible to the right kind of person. He wouldn't stray too far yet, because perhaps the Lawbringers may make an opportunity to enter unnoticed, doubtful as that was. When it came to infiltration, Vagrant always knew that all options must remain open until one becomes glaringly obvious.

[Arthera]

There was no need to hurry after the duo when they left the city's entrance. Anya lounged around on the richly padded couch, in the upper conference room she was already in, letting the two men walk farther and farther, little black against the glaring white snow that could be seen from one of the opened windows. She could catch up with them easily enough, and besides, she did not wish to be seen tailing them. Watch but no interference, unless something bad happened. That was what she intended to do, and unless he was completely worthless, the Guardian that was more than a Guardian, he should be able to handle himself on his lonesome. The ghost man likely knew better than to right out kill his chaperone right after making a deal with Whitewall. If anything untoward was going to happen it would at least be well out of range of the city and likely inside the Raksha stronghold, or it's surrounding territory. Anya knew the area well, she has been around for long enough, and instinctively knew the boundaries of all claimed lands in this part of the world. Once the Guardian crossed that invisible line, Anya would start to pay attention, but until then, she really wanted to get a few more of those sun rays while on this expensive piece of furniture. She rolled around and continued to laze around some more.

Only when the envoys were but specks on the horizon, that Anya got up, stretched and nodded to herself. Time to be off. The stately room was empty of people but for herself, her earlier companion having left once the papers were signed and the contract finished. Picking up her finely engraved staff and taking a last look through her few carried belongings, a few pouches with mementos, some food and some assorted outdoors gear, Anya was satisfied she could leave and start her part of the bargain. With but a thought, Anya's features, her entire self and carried items, started to haze, like heat off a wet anvil. Her features blurred, her shape wavered. She seemed to shrink, contort and melt all at once, unbelievably fast, silently, more than simply a trick. Before one could wrap their head around what was happening, Anya had already finished, was already something entirely different than the willowy woman she had been moments before. Resting on the padded armrest, once the hazing effect faded away, stood a robin, dutifully cleaning it's feathers. Small, unassuming, brown in coloring with a russet-colored patch along the front of it's chest and neck, the Anya-robin ruffled it's feathers once before gliding to the window edge. Flapping it's wings briefly, the bird took flight into the chilly air, soaring on invisible updrafts from the bustling city below.

It was a most liberating feeling, to fly, to soar through the air while everyone else slogged through the mud and snow. Other than catnaps in the sun, flying ranked up there on things Anya loved. The breeze felt nice, the landscape zoomed by swiftly and no one could block her path, it was very liberating on a completely different level from running all out in an open field as a ground-based runner. Catching up to people walking in the snow was child's play when she flew, already she could see the two men far ahead and below, trudging through the loosely packed snow heading off the beaten paths towards the Raksha dwelling. She also noticed a third person, not part of the little expedition, following farther back, shadowing them. Clearly this was not part of the plan, or Anya would have been told to watch out for a secondary observer and to not interfere with it. She would have to keen an eye on that one, until she knew who or what it was, and what it's intentions were. In any event, Anya could keep an eye on things easily enough, perching on branches as the men walked past below, chirping to them much like all the other birds were doing, with the men none the wiser as to what she was.

When she was soaring through the sky, having let the group move well ahead of her with their "hidden" pursuer, Anya noticed something glimmer ahead, barely a hundred yards after passing the invisible Raksha territory markers. Flying towards her, Anya briefly had time to wonder what it could be before she had to fly out of it's path. Glittering in the sunlight, it seemed like a piece of jagged ice, sent flying towards her by an as yet unseen attacker. Already Anya could make out more of the shiny things with the now obvious glinting signal. Somehow, the Raksha seemed to either dislike anything flying in their area, or they had sensed her, despite the change of form and the usually impenetrable disguise. She would have to land, avoid more of those shards. There were more than enough trees to hide behind and change, and Anya made for them, diving down between dead branches and trunks until her small bird feet touched the snow. Calling up her power again, she changed form once again, shifting into something slightly bigger. Anya also modified it's color, emulating what other animals in this Wyld-tainted place seemed to have. White as snow, Anya twitched her newly formed bushy tail and sat back on small squirrel legs, looking out from behind the tree trunk she had sheltered behind. If any more of those flying ice daggers were homing in on her, in her land-based form, she would have to discount her former plan of sneaking into the Guardian's things to enter the Fortress and go with a backup plan, such as the cave mouth further away from the entrance. Of course, she would have to leave the Guardian's line of sight for some time, but then again, he was likely a big boy and didn't need his every move watched over. Right?

Without wasting more time, Anya sped, half-hopping and half running, out of cover to see how things were going to work out now...

[December 13]

"It appears they are finally making a move. This should be interesting"

It was early morning within White Wall when the commotion outside began with the appearance of one of my exalted cousins turned up. An abyssal that stalks the shadowland of Marama's fell to the south. He was a tall individual an would have been consider handsome once if it was not for the gaunt demeanor. As I sat on the veranda one of my homes within winter hold that overlooked on to the entrance of the city. A cup of tea was steaming away on the table beside me. It was one of the small pleasures that I enjoy within my time in Creation. Though this tea pales in comparison to the brew we used to have back in the First Age.

It was not long that my other cousin would turn up. A solar that prides himself on his archery. There was no denying that he was no doubt on of the best archers in the region, for now. Though with the arrogance that only a Solar Exalted can show striding forward displaying his power-bow for everyone that cared to see it. It was interesting to see that tiny second as memories of his past life showed that they knew each other.

Though I could not sit enjoying the view all day, it was time that I made my move. I had received word a few days before hand that I would be seeing one of my brothers soon. Whether or not he knew that I was present in this city was remained to be seen. It was my current job to turn them away from The Sun. An so they should for he has forsaken this land and his duties. Instead he hid away in Yu-Shan playing the games of divinity. My job had been slow to come round after all I had to turn a full city whilst being careful of the Solar that had made home in this town. A Twilight that was trying to cure an addiction from those that came from the Slave Coast. A noble goal freeing slaves twice over. Though it was a delight to fool him in my many guise.

Stepping into the darkness of my lounge shadows started for form around me before melting away. In the mirror it reveal a young woman of around twenty years of age. A God-Blooded if he cared to look deep enough into my disguise. This woman a teacher within the town, one that under my direct influence. As I went downstairs a number of men stood awaiting orders from there Mistress.

"You have your orders. By the time I come back I want to see this city ablaze."

It was a very delicate operation that I had been given. It would be far easier to take control of the city after it had faced a number of trials. An there would be nothing that my dear cousins would be able to do. After all they would dealing with a fair folk that had stolen children. Children that had been taught that freedom is the most important thing. That they must leader there own lives and if they wanted to do something they should do it.

As I stepped into the cold air once again of White Wall one of my servants brought my horse around to me. It was a solid mare that was trustworthy enough not the throw me off it when I was on its back. As I climbed on top of my black mare I road in the direction of the clinic that was in the center of the city. It was not a long journey though I was taking it at a leisurely pace after all. We were going to be catching up to them it would be better if we actually gave them time to get ahead of us.

"Doctor! Doctor! They are going after the children. They are going to the fair folk."

I moved into the clinic were I knew that the Twilight would be. He would usually be drinking tea or creating a new drafts. With a look of desperation I moved to him pleading him to follow them. That if the children had been injured they would need his skills.

[Nigawatts]

"I've been testing the effects of Naltrexone on patients willing to kick their addiction. The side effects of the drug seem to be minor compared to my other trials. Mostly just cramping and diarrhea. The time during withdrawal is still a harrowing experience. The time it takes to get over the addiction seems to only be quickened when I apply my own power to the process. Unfortunately I can not always be there for a withdrawal, another process needs to be found." He said before shoving the recorder back into his vest pocket. Making notes like this made it easier for him to come back to a certain train of thought later. Besides, it made him feel cool talking to himself like that, and the nurses always seemed to be impressed.

"Physician, you have a guest here to see you." said one of the nurses who worked at the Physician's Clinic. With a curt nod, he began to pick up his office a bit while the Nurse went to retrieve the guest. After five years in service to the city, the Physician had been given a permit to do practice. The Syndic's had granted him one of the finest buildings in all of Whitewall to create his clinic, and everything had been paid for by the city who were earnest to have his gift of healing around them. What they didn't know was that the Physician had planned for months in order to be sure that this building would be given to him. Oh there had been a few bribes here and there, and he had assured the previous owners that leaving was for the best. When the Syndics allowed him to create it at the heart of the city, they probably figured he simply wanted to be close to the Manse. On the contrary, he simply wanted a place with access to Whitewalls catacombs. The tunnels didn't connect to any exit to the city (Whitewall notorious for being completely impregnable), but it was still a maze work of tunnels where people could easily get lost...or hidden.

"You hired another cute one you old perv." Volsung said in his jovial Haslanti accent as he walked into the Physician's quarters. The nurse smiled and blushed before bowing at the two men and closing the door. It had been nearly a year since the two had seen each other, and with a soft chuckle, the Physician walked toward Volsung and clasped his large arm in the traditional Haslanti greeting. Instead of merely taking the handshake, Volsung pulled the Physician into a hearty bear hug. The 7 foot tall man, easily pulling Physician off the ground like a child. "You aren't getting off that easy friend!" Volsung bellowed with a hearty laugh, while giving the Physician a little shake before setting him down.

"I didn't want you to think I had gotten soft in the time we've been apart. Isn't the handshake the proper greeting between two Haslanti comrades?" Physician asked, while straitening up his clothes. The smile that had crept to his face upon seeing Volsung never leaving.

"Aye but we're a lot more than comrades. You are my brother, and I would do more than fight for your honor. I would lay down my life for it." Volsung said solemnly, his usually flippant tone suddenly getting serious. Physician had seen him get like that only a few times, but he knew it meant that Volsung was making an oath. While they had only known each other for a few years, the bonds of the First Age were powerful. They had become friends almost immediately, even before Volsung had come to the conclusion that they had been linked in the Age of Wonders. Back then the Physician didn't know much about that stuff, he had simply been trying to survive, a small following of rebel slaves running around the tundra, trying to survive the winter. After being harried by Slave Hunters for weeks, the Physician and his motley crew had come upon an Emerald, far on the edge of the League's territory. Volsung had been holding up there for the winter, and at first the homesteaders had wanted to refuse the Physician shelter. Volsung saw something more in the haggard slave, and helped them get settled. When the Slave Hunters finally caught up, the Physician saw the truth of why Volsung was a hero to the people of the Haslanti. He had turned into a beastman, and killed all the hunters to the last man. Afterwards, the Physician revealed himself to be a Solar, and soon the two were drinking and telling stories. The Physician had declined the chance to join the Haslanti League, much to Volsung's anger. But the two were able to patch that up, once Volsung realized that the Physician's own life quest was just as important as his own.

"How is the resistance going friend?" Volsung asked after the two had made small talk about their time apart.

"Better than I could have hoped...faster than I could have hoped. We have set several hundred slaves free in the last year. A few now stand as free citizens in this very city. Most I've sent your way, however. The Haslanti are more...accepting of new blood than the Whitewallers. There are even some that have found their way further north to Gethamane." Physcian said, while snickering at Volsung's "harumph" at the mention of Gethamane. The lunar warrior took a swig of his ale mug, and leaned closer to Physician. In a soft, but stern voice he said, "Might be better to head back to the Coast then that tomb of a city. I heard the Realm is busy fighting each other. Seems like the best time to take your success on the road. It's been awhile since I had a good fight. Find some boys that know how to swing an axe, and you back me up with some of that magic. I'll give you Serrat as a Winter's Gift."

The Physician laughed and took a swig of his drink as well. The thought had crossed his mind once or twice, but he would need a real cure for the addictions of his people before that. He knew...deep down he knew, that in reality the number of slaves freed in the last year could have been tripled. Unfortunately, more and more times the resistance would get stories of people not wanting to leave because they didn't want to miss rations. He had made sure not to allow himself to grasp for power in the resistance, but he realized that it would not survive unless he found the cure. Afterwards, he also knew that it would be up to him to make sure it got put to good use.

"I would accept your gift with all the grace of a five year old boy. Knowing my luck, the whole damn city would turn to coal the moment we set foot beyond the gates!" The two roared in laughter at that quip, and both cheered their glasses in salute to one another. As the laughter died however, Volsung looked down at his drink solemnly before looking back up at the Physician. "So, has the Recorder showed anything else about our..."

His voice was cut off by a loud slam as the door to the Physician's office burst open, and a beautiful woman walked in.

"Doctor! Doctor! They are going after the children. They are going to the fair folk."

********

She had been listening to them on the wind. The Guardian seemed to want to talk, but the dark one wasn't responding. Even from this distance she could see their faces. The younger of the two, his handsome face attempting to hold back a scowl of frustration. The other expressionless, like a corpse. She could feel them, and while the Guardian was actually fairly calm despite the lack of response he was getting form his compatriot, the dark one was a smoldering pit of anger and anxiety.

How interesting.

Her form was built to please, and had pleased many mortals and Raksha alike in the long centuries since the Crusade. Even now, at the brink of the thaw that heated up the Northern lands, it was cold near the gates of Winter's Last Breath. Apalapachia did not dress for the occasion however. Her robes were cut low and revealed much of her alien blue skin. Her white hair, was braided in the most fashionable styles that the Northern women had to offer. It benefited her more to appear a bit more martial in the militant north. A few glints of metal beneath her robes gave her the illusion of protection. Sometimes that was better than the real thing. Her feet ended in bird-like talons that seemed more fit for a harpy than a noble Raksha. Most people who thought that, didn't realize that no form truly fit the Raksha in Creation.

Approaching the pair openly, she strode sensually across the snow covered field that lead to the Jade door of the Winter Folk domain. Her feet did not sink as she walked, the two came to a stop when they spotted her. The Guardian already had an arrow knocked while the other brandished a hellishly black blade of strange designs. She looked upon that weapon with interest, but only for a second as she felt the presence of two more on the edge of the field. At first she felt threatened, but soon hid that feeling as she finally stood before the two men.

"I am Appalapachia, noble courtier of Winters Last Breath, and consort to King Nikolas. I have come here to allow you two entry. So long as you are in our sanctum, you are under the protection of my lord. He wishes to feast with the representatives of Whitewall and Marama's Fell. Please follow me."

*******

"Two damn men! This city sends two damn men to the heart of Winter's Last Breath!" Volsung shouted while throwing his mug of ale into the fire. The Physician didn't flinch, as the impact sent a loud noise echoing across the room. He simply kept his eyes on Lily. He studied her features, and as always seemed to linger on blue eyes. "Why come to me Lily? I can heal the sick, but I'm not much an adventurer." He said truthfully. Even if he had been chosen by the Unconquered Sun, that didn't change his disposition, which was far from a warriors. He tried not to remember that time he had to fight his way through a forgotten manse near Fella. The term fight he used loosely, more like run for his life as the manse's guardian elemental came to life. That had forced him to begin studying magic, as his time with the Recorder had already taught him some basic sorcery. He hated the idea of killing anything, so defensive spells were about all he learned.

"It is exactly why you should go. You may not be a warrior, but you are a healer. What could have happened to those kids? Oh god they could be hurt or worse...." She said, in a genuinely sincere tone. The Physician had met her while helping some freed slaves travel the northern road to Gethamane. They had only met a few times afterwards, but the Physician was always surprised by her appearances at the strangest of times. A simpler man would say it was fate, but the Physician knew not to put too much stock in that idea (regardless of what he had learned about the true nature of the world). There was something else at work that kept bringing her back into his life.

"Going to the Winter Folk is suicide. Those kids are already dead. You can't fight Fair Folk in their own lands, and the Winter Folk have controlled that valley since the dawn of the Second Age." Volsung said while sitting back down.

"The children might still be alive. Fair Folk don't kill people outright, it's not in their nature. If Lily is right, they sent two exalted to negotiate with the Fair Folk. Going there might disrupt such negotiations. We could do more harm than good." The Physician took a sip from his tea, and continued to look into Lily's eyes. He was searching for a reaction. "I have made up my mind to follow after them, I hope you will do the same." She said without missing a beat. Rising up for the table she gave both men a curt nod, and walked out of the clinic. Physician looked at Volsung, and simply gave him a shrug.

"You are going to die, and I'm not going to be there to save you this time." Was all Volsung said as the Physician grabbed his traveling coat, and ran after Lily.