Salroka

Exalted: Fall of Creation

"Well aren't we just a motley crew of survivors? A lawyer from a patrician family. A street urchin, no offense intended to you Cilia. An Immaculate Monk who gave up on the order. And a merchant princess who lost it all." Had they not just escaped almost certain death... TWICE... Fergus would have laughed at the prospect of being grouped up with his current associates. Not so much at the fact they were of 'lower standing' so much as that the odds were just absurd. And yet here he was, sharing stories with them as they all came to terms with their lives being turned upside down. "I suppose we should all count ourselves lucky, yes? Sure, we may have lost a lot today... but at least we have our health."

====================================================

Approximately fifteen kilometers to the east...

Cackling Harlot's Retribution was contemplating which settlement to take next. Something close but with lower population? A bit further away that would need another Soulbreaker? She could not use those thoughtlessly, after all. Yes, Mask of Winters had amassed a large number of them. That did not mean they could be used indiscriminately, however. They were still a finite resource. It was then that she decided to make camp for a short time, if only to discuss it with the undead officers who accompanied her.

"I think a few smaller towns should suffice before we cross the sea to Pangu Prefecture. After all, the shadowland made by our assault on the Imperial Ruins..." Cackling Harlot still hated referring to them as such, as she had always wanted to see the Imperial Palace when she was a girl. And now that she was finally able to, it was only to utterly destroy the place. Bittersweet, to say the least. "... will grow to be quite large. If Master Winters' calculations are accurate, far outside the radius of the Soulbreaker. Only minimal casualties will be needed to extend its reach northward."

The officers with her seemed to agree, and they began packing up their camp as Cackling Harlot took a quick bath in the river. While putting her clothes and armor back on, she noticed an odd taste in her mouth. Spitting on the ground, she found it was a small amount of blood from a recent feeding. "Ah, right. I got a bit carried away with that one. I should thank him if I ever run into him again. Though for his sake, I hope I never get that chance." She laughed for a moment, thinking how even now she was not used to feeding on people like that. Would she ever get used to it? Would she eventually grow numb to it? Would it always bother her? Questions for later. Now, she resumed her campaign to bring Mask of Winters' plan to fruition.

====================================================

The night had been kind to the four survivors of the Imperial Ruins. No bandits, dangerous animals, or undead stragglers had come across them as they slept. Fergus was a bit annoyed at having to wake up in the middle of the night to go on watch, but he knew why it was necessary. And now they had to move on. It was a very long way to Lord's Crossing, but they needed to make the trek if they wanted to mount any sort of organized defense against Mask of Winters.

"There should be a city or town to the northwest. We're not far from the Imperial River, after all. Stupid dynasts had to name everything around here Imperial this, Imperial that... dumbasses." The second half of that was unintentionally spoken aloud, but at this point Fergus didn't care. Who was going to yell at him for talking down on the Great Houses right now? No one. "We can buy some supplies, get a real meal, and maybe even secure some transportation inland. Not like I'm lacking for money to buy things for us, right?" Truly, it was a bit of a blessing that Fergus had brought some of his wealth with him to buy frivolous things after work that day.

As the four survivors put out the fire and packed their belongings for the long walk to the Imperial River, Fergus caught sight of something roughly human-shaped on the other side of the stream they camped next to. Given the day they had yesterday, he was visibly nervous. "Oi, you! Come out! We're all armed, and we're not afraid to kill you if you try anything funny!" He didn't WANT to do that, but current circumstances dictated that he place the survival of himself and associates above the survival of others.

Exalted: Fall of Creation

There is a characters tab, @Cosmic Fury.

Exalted: Fall of Creation

Cilia checked Fergus's head after his little tirade, finding a little cut, but not much else. She seemed fairly concerned, but Fergus decided against any sort of treatment. He'd done it to himself, and felt he needed to tough it out as a bit of a reminder to not be stupid. While he was being checked up on by one of the girls, it seemed like Snow was receiving similar treatment from the other. Thinking to himself "Boy, we sure are shining examples of tough manly men...", Fergus soon found his thoughts mirrored by Snow outright chastising both of their actions a bit. He wasn't wrong, of course.

"I can't really argue that, my friend. And now that I think of it, I don't think I got any of your names throughout this unbelievable day. I clearly gave mine, but I do not recall any of yours.if you gave them at any point, I apologize. Recent events have left my mind a bit... well, I've been focused on other things." Surely the others would give their names and exchange basic pleasantries for a while. Better to focus on that than to keep their attention on the tragedy they had barely avoided becoming a part of. They would no doubt have to confront what happened eventually, but now was not that time.

After a short time passed, Fergus spoke up once more. "So now I know your names, but I know nothing about who you are. I'll share a bit since I brought it up. I'm a barrister, as you know. A lawyer, of sorts. I grew up in Lord's Crossing, and am legally part of House Mnemon despite not having the family name. No exalts in my immediate family, but a few cousins and great aunts/uncles in the past have done so. I moved to the Ruins after a bit of family drama, and had called it home for a few years. And now, well... I guess I had to go back to Lord's Crossing someday. Just wish it had not been for this sort of reason, you know?" He had been planning on going back in a year or two, once he was sure things had calmed down, but now he had little choice in the matter.

It was at this point that Fergus realized how tired he was. While he would happily listen to the stories told by the others, he would do do while laying back against the rocks and staring into the night sky. "I'm listening. Don't mind me. Please, continue." It wouldn't be long before he was asleep. Unfortunately for him, he was also unfamiliar with the concept of sleeping in shifts. He'd be a bit grumpy when he woke up, but would agree to take his shift of being awake to watch out for everyone.

Hopefully the night would be uneventful.

Exalted: Fall of Creation

Of all the people to seemingly break today, Fergus did not expect it to be Snow. One of the girls, for sure. But a monk who had witnessed war before? The thought hadn't even crossed his mind. He wanted to say something, but the words were stuck in his throat and refused to come out. Instead, he walked over to Snow and put a hand on his shoulder. A hand and a sympathetic look was all he could manage before moving back to the fire and taking a seat. It almost seemed like he was looking past the fire, though. Chances were good that Snow would recognize the thousand-yard stare of someone who had no real clue how to process what had just happened. Whatever that magic was; it was enough to shake the monk to his core. Fergus was going to try and figure out what it had been. His expensive schooling had taught him a lot, but that was some time ago and he would be lucky to recall much of it at this point.

Beyond their little camp, the world had fallen deathly silent. Birds did not chirp, squirrels and other forest creatures ceased their chatter, and even bugs seemed to stop moving about and doing as they do. This eerie quiet further added to Fergus' difficulty in both processing today's events, as well as his efforts to figure out what that magic had been. All he was coming up with was "Some crazy powerful deathlord magic.", and that wasn't much help at all. He could always say that someone in Lord's Crossing would know, but that would be redundant. They were heading there anyway. Truly, Fergus was just as lost as the rest of them at this point. It was not the most comfortable feeling for someone so used to being in control, to say the least.

The only real comfort was the crackling of the fire and the warmth it provided. It wasn't all that cold, but the heat did bring a small amount of joy after the horrible experiences of this day. In a world that was likely about to be embroiled in another huge war, small comforts could make or break a person. Gritting his teeth, Fergus continued to wrack his brain as he watched the fire. Nothing came to mind. Rather than piss himself off in addition to being a wreck after fleeing the city, he decided to lie down on the rocks near the fire. Better to at least TRY to relax, right?

Perhaps one of the gods in Yu-Shan wanted to lighten the mood. Maybe Fergus himself subconsciously hoped to make the others happy. Possibly, it was just coincidence. An audible CRACK rang out through the camp as Fergus layed down a little too quickly and smacked his head on the rock he layed on. He wasn't badly hurt, thankfully. However he DID burst out into a tantrum of swearing.

"First the magistrates make me evict a damn church! Then the sodding undead ruin my city! Then they bloody vaporize everything with gods know what! And now I nearly give myself a fucking concussion?! What's next?! Is the five-metal shrike going to fly overhead and shit a rainbow made of jade scrip, orichalcum, and seafood chutney?! Son of a whore, I'm one-hundred and ten percent done with this day!" In his frustration, Fergus hurled his lucky rock over the cliff. "And NOW I've hurled my goddamn lucky rock, like a spoiled child whose been told 'no' by their parents! Fuck!"

He knew it would be back after a short time, but he was just venting his feelings after this awful day. It was likely that the others shared his general frustration, given they had been through the same things. Each of them handled it differently, and Fergus was just the one openly complaining.

Exalted: Fall of Creation

@BiffleChump

I'm terribly sorry for not responding sooner. We have kinda taken to using Discord as a sort of OOC. The goal of the characters is to somehow save what they can of Creation. It could be waging war and winning against Mask of Winters and hopefully then stemming the tide of the encroaching Wyld, Unleashing an ancient power or artifact to preserve Creation, or even joining Mask of Winters and seeing what he offers.

Of course, we could also just watch it all burn.

Feel free to hit me up in Discord. Salroka#4907

Exalted: Fall of Creation

"... ve my leave to do as you see fit until then, but i STRONGLY suggest that you do not venture inland. In any case, that was exemplary work today, my dear. I will let you know when we have prepared for the next step." Mask of Winters shook his head after ceasing his communication with Cackling Harlot. He was growing tired of constantly praising her, but it seemed to ensure she always lived up to his expectations. He would continue to pat her on the back, though it was his opinion that a deathknight should not need praise to perform their duties. Regardless, he had now fired the first shot in this war to decide the fate of the Blessed Isle. No doubt the leaders of the Isle would try to answer with similar ferocity. It was time to show them that they had no chance of matching the military might he had amassed since the previous war.

Cackling Harlot was ecstatic, as she was every time her master praised her. She was leaving the Imperial Ruins as well, moving to the n. She may have free reign for now, but all she wished to do was to stick to the plan. And so she and the forces at her command would head to the next staging point ahead of Mask of Winters. This campaign MUST succeed." she thought as she pressed onward. Her thoughts then momentarily drifted to the losses that both sides would no doubt take throughout this... war. She hated calling it that, but that would be how it was remembered. Gritting her teeth at the thoughts and shaking her head a few times, Cackling Harlot steeled herself once again. This HAD to be done. Not just for the sake of her master, but for the sake of all that was left in the world.

===============================================

Fergus initially handwaved Cilia's exclamation and said "It's not like I'm going to sue you. The dead don't pay me enough for that, you know?" in an attempt to defuse tensions with humor. But as time passed and the group moved further away from the city, he had the niggling feeling that his humor was neither well-timed nor welcome. They had just escaped a hellish situation, and he was cracking wise? Poor form, to say the least. While they trudged onward, the barrister's mind was occupied with thoughts of how to make it up to the group. His level of distraction got the better of him a few times. Stumbling over a tree root or rock, getting slapped in the face by a branch, and eating from the wrong pouch at his belt... and finding a small reddish-brown rock in his mouth rather than a handful of his snack mix.

Right. That damned rock. Every time he got rid of it, the thing came back somehow. No matter. The mishap did make Fergus chuckle and absent-mindedly say "Stupid rock. You must see something in me that I don't see in myself, huh? Otherwise you'd have scarpered ages ago." as he put it back in his pocket. He did have to admit that its presence was a small comfort, though. In a world that was once again on going to war, very little was certain. Yet some things continued on as if nothing was amiss. Even things as seemingly as insignificant as a little rock always coming back to a now nervous wreck of a Mnemon barrister.

Maybe the rock WAS lucky. Moments after Fergus finished his little chat with the inanimate object, the group happened upon a creek that flowed lazily along. It was not deep, but had no large trees nearby to impede visibility at its banks, and a steep cliff to the south that would impede attacks from that direction. All in all, a fairly secure place to rest and mend their bodies for a few hours. By now, they were a good distance from the city... so pursuit had likely tapered off. Especially if Snow had been right about seeing the Juggernaut moving away from the city and toward the sea once more. While he had no clue why that would be the case, Fergus decided to take it as a blessing. Maybe the Deathlord's army had overtaxed itself and was falling back? If so, that would give them even more time to alert the leaders in Lord's Crossing.

If only that were the case...

===============================================

The sun was setting behind the hillside to the west of the camp when it happened. Fergus was tending the small fire they had lit to ward off the chill of the approaching night. He might even have said it was a tranquil and beautiful evening, had the morning and afternoon not been so terrible and violent. But the horrors visited upon the Imperial City were not done. Barely visible now was the outskirts of the Imperial Ruins, but what now befell the city was plain to see. No. In fact, the sunset almost seemed to HIGHLIGHT it. A strange purple-black dome seemed to appear in the city. It grew... and grew.., and grew. Initially, Fergus watched it silently as if he were hypnotized. As its edge crept closer and closer to their makeshift camp, though? That was when he snapped out of it and simply fell to his knees to meet what he expected was the end.

The sound of the apparent explosion now reached their camp. It was not typical, however. It was deafeningly loud and simultaneously barely perceptible. A sound just on the edge of hearing, yet one that was impossible to ignore. Cries of agony. Pleas of mercy. Tears of anguish. The sound was all of these things, yet none of them.

Just as quickly as the dome appeared, its growth ceased. Seconds later, the sickly thing had dissipated almost entirely; leaving a strange purple hue on the visible horizon that complimented the colors of the evening sky in a hauntingly beautiful way.

Fergus rose to his feet, unsure of what he had just witnessed. Chances were good that he shared that confusion with the others, but he had to ask, even if it was to no one in particular. "By all the dragons... what was that?" He knew only three things about it for certain. One: That it could not be good, if the sound it made was anything to go by. Two: That it was probably something he could blame on the Juggernaut and its masters. Three: It was something he would never forget.

Exalted: Fall of Creation

The concensus seemed to be that the group should move on to Lord's Crossing. That said, they did need to catch their breath if they wanted to move forward. Cilia offered everyone something to drink and eat, so Fergus felt he should respond in kind. He took a couple swigs of the water and said "Thanks for that. Really hit the spot." before handing the waterskin to the next person in the group. Afterwards, he gave each person a handful of the bloodberry trail mix he kept with him at all times. "This should keep us going for a bit. Jerky and trail mix have kept a lot of travelers alive, right?" His tone of voice gave away that he had no idea and was just trying to keep morale up, but sometimes that did help.

All that aside, Fergus himself was visibly shaken. Where before he was confident and carried himself with an air of dignity; now he seemed nervous, unsure, and scared. Even as he got up to start walking again, his head hung low and he looked around several times before heading out. "Well then... let's get headed to Lord's Crossing. Better to start now than later, right?" His voice was shaky, but he was at least trying to keeo himself together. This war would be terrible, for sure. But if everyone fell apart, it would be much worse. In his mind, Fergus felt he NEEDED to stay composed. If even a representative of House Mnemon cracked under pressure, who could his new companions rely on for support when they reached the capital?

====================================================

In the Imperial Ruins, the carnage seemed to be tapering off. While the fires still burned and the undead forces continued their assault, the shelling had ceased and the Juggernaut stood motionless in the distance. Cackling Harlot stood at the ruined gate of the Imperial Manse, a mixed expression of anger and joy on her face. She had been told to assume control of the Realm Defense Grid, but there was no way to immediately access it with the Manse still a crumbling mess. That pissed her off, as she couldn't fulfill her master's orders. However, she still had a secondary objective... and it was one she could complete very easily. Calling out to a duo of ghost-blooded escorts that accompanied her, she made a few motions and directed them to the top of a mound of rubble. They complied, climbed the mound, and retrieved something from a case that Cackling Harlot had handed them. What were they doing?

====================================================

In his palace aboard the Juggernaut, Mask of Winters paced back and forth impatiently. He had heard the Imperial Manse was in ruins, but had incorrectly assumed it was "in ruins" much like the Imperial Ruins themselves. That is to say, damaged but serviceable. The Grid would not likely be easy to salvage. He would try, naturally... but that was no guarantee it would be in working order. For the time being, he would continue as planned. Issuing the go-ahead order to his trusted deathknight, Winters then gave another command to the cannon operators on Juggernaut's weapon emplacements.

The gunners fired one salvo into the air, and a quartet of yellow flares hung in the air in an arc over the Imperial Ruins. Another muted groan issued forth from the Juggernaut, and it began to slowly turn its back on the city and began to crawl back toward the coastline.

Exalted: Fall of Creation

The foursome had somehow managed to fend off the undead. Not all of them were made dead again, but they were damaged enough that pursuit became impossible. Fergus was obviously thankful for that. Surviving alone was far less likely than surviving as a group. But they were not out of the woods yet. For that, they would have to escape the city. It was not far to the northwestern foothills, and Fergus knew their odds of being safe increased dramatically once the Imperial Ruins were behind them. "Hurry! Don't stop for ANYTHING!" It was a harsh thing to say. He wished he could stop and help everyone. But reality was often cruel, and not everyone would see the end of this day.

More strange necromantic shells landed around them, bringing with them more screams and deaths. More undead warriors attacked civilians, snuffing out their previously uneventful lives. More fires burned brightly as Cackling Harlot came closer and closer to the remnants of the Realm Defense Grid. But after around an hour of running for their lives, the four survivors from the church had reached the foothills that lie to the northwest of the place they had called home. Still, they ran. Another hour of adrenaline-fueled sprinting later, and Fergus could run no further. He all but collapsed against a large rock and gasped for air.

"I can't... go any... further..." Sweat rolled down his face and neck as he squeaked out the words between heavy breaths. The group had lost their last pursuers a few kilometers back, but more distance between them was not a bad thing. "What should we d-" he took a moment to fully catch his breath before continuing. "- what should we do now? The obvious call is heading to Lord's Crossing and informing the noble houses of the attack. But that's a long trek from here. What do you all think we should do in the immediate future? Fergus had ideas of his own, but felt obligated to listen to what his new friends had to say.

Exalted: Fall of Creation

Intruiging game concept, and I admit myself tempted. It's been a while since last I played Exalted.

@BiffleChump

We'd be more than happy to have you. Now is a great time to jump in, too. The story is just starting to kick off.

Exalted: Fall of Creation

Running away was obviously a good plan, and Fergus made no objections as he followed Axley, Cilia, and Snow. That said, running away without a plan was likely just postponing the inevitable. The shells kept falling. Buildings and people continued to be consumed and destroyed. The groans of the Juggernaut grew louder and louder. Then it happened. Fergus and the unlikely trio he was now fleeing with were retreating across the city and trying to avoid the deadly bombardment, but ground forces were less easy to evade. Three warriors with sickly grey-white skin and wicked curved blades crossed their path, along with a woman in heavy armor who wielded a flaming sword.

"Not far to the remnants of the grid, General. We'll mop up around here while you get it ready for his arrival." The woman gave no verbal response, and simply ran back toward the center of the city. The three men turned their attention to Fergus and the other survivors from the church, and began their approach. Fergus, while far from a warrior himself, had received his share of combat training from House Mnemon. He drew his short blade, but was visibly trembling. This was not training. If he fouled up here, he would be dead.

"Shit shit shit! What do we do?!" cried the barrister mere seconds before the men were upon them. One took a wide swing at Fergus, who barely stepped out of the way. Rather than lose his whole arm, the sleeve of his shirt was very crudely torn and he took a small cut on his bicep. The pain was not immediate, however. Adrenaline was a hell of a drug. In retaliation, Fergus took a stab at the warrior. While his blade atually hit its mark in the foe's side, there was no blood. This caused Fergus to take another step back. Undead. That meant only one thing. Even a man who was not involved in the Scarlet War knew that undead were often a hallmark of a Deathlord. Wait. Could that mean... no. The monstrous roar. Was this going to be a repeat of what happened in Thorns?!

It may have seemed silly, but Fergus took a rock from one of his pouches and hurled it at his opponent's face. It smashed right into the undead's eye, causing him to yell out in anger and pain as the hefty rock did severe damage to his eye. "We need to leave! Now! Follow me! Please, I beg you trust me!" and with that, he fled toaward the northwest. Fergus knew he needed to tell the ruling class in Lord's Crossing about the impending invasion by the Deathlord. If they were informed of the sacking of the Imperial Ruins yet again, perhaps they might take action. But to ensure that, Fergus (and his new friends) needed to recount their tale of survival and escape to House Mnemon and the other noble houses.

They needed to survive. They needed to escape. They needed to live.